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Post by IMMACULACY lancelot TURMOIL on Oct 29, 2012 15:24:36 GMT -5
A young man trudged through the woods, breathing heavily. Sweat ran down his temple, leaving a trail of clean skin behind it in the thin film of dirt encasing his face. He whipped away the beads of precipitate collecting on his forehead. His pink hair clung to his body uncomfortably, and stubble lined his jaw. A mixture of driedblood and mud was caked onto his extremities. His clothes were torn in various places, exposing sections of his skin and open wounds. The traveler stumbled out into the open, shielding his rose eyes from the sudden bombardment of light. As soon as his eyes had adjusted, he noted the dilapidated buildings before him. A ghost town. There was no doubt. How could anyone possibly live in this dump? It was perfect. Above the everything else stood a Gothic cathedral, seemingly undisturbed from where the pink-headed man stood. He would stay there for the rest of the day and that night. Then he'd see what he could do about provisions. Right now he needed rest. His feet felt like two big blisters, and it was all he could do just to stand. He swallowed hard, and smacked his lips a couple times. Water. He hadn't had water in days. He couldn't remember how long it had been... Obviously not a good sign. Perhaps he could find some in the church. It was a long shot, but it seemed to be his best bet in this dust bowl. The worn wanderer dragged his feet along the ground before he tripped and collapsed. He struggled to stand, and then fell again. A shudder ran down his spine, and he began crawling through the dirt and dust, coughing hysterically. His throat must have been dry, because after a few fits, the ground beneath him showed droplets of blood coming from his mouth. Finally, he reached the grand doors. He sat up on his knees, and shoved them inward. They creaked open, and he pulled himself into the building, unable to move any further by the time he was halfway through the entrance. His vision pulsed - blurry, then clear, blurry, then clear. A young lady with scarlet hair came into his line of sight. Then everything went black.
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Post by FREYA ann-marie LOVELL on Oct 29, 2012 16:29:11 GMT -5
Freya lay in one of the pews with her legs crossed and flipped through one of the thousands of bibles. She had read through it many times before, but there wasn't much else for her to do. She sighed as she finished the 3rd chapter of Genesis and placed the book back with the others and sat in thought for a while. She always wondered about how the world had changed without her, or what the people who knew her thought of her now. It wasn't often that she missed someone, but lately she had been wanting to talk with another person. Oh well... even if I did meet someone they'd probably think I'm a freak... she though miserably. She sighed and closed her eyes, starting to drift off. Suddenly she heard something and jumped up. She looked around, extremely confused at the noise. Who would come into a creepy church in the middle of nowhere? Slowly she made her way down the isle, trying to convince herself that she wanted to get something from the kitchen rather than find out what the noise was. On her way, she froze as her eyes caught the man on the floor. He reminded her of herself when she first found the church. She shook her head, suddenly remembering that she needed to do something for him. She rushed into the kitchen and filled a large glass with water and winced at the few droplets that fell on her hand. She quickly went back to the man who had crawled in and dragged him away from the door and onto one of the couches in the lobby. She propped him up enough to help him drink and was horrified to realize that she wasn't sure she remembered how to interact with people. She removed some of his body heat to help cool him off and gladly welcomed the warmth into hers. She went back to the kitchen and brought out some bread for him, handing it to him as he woke up without a word.
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Post by IMMACULACY lancelot TURMOIL on Oct 29, 2012 18:19:23 GMT -5
The young man's eyes slowly opened as he felt the cool, refreshing liquid snake down his throat. Water... Water! He sat up straight, and nearly choked on his own saliva. Because, for the first time in days, he actually had saliva. His body was wracked by coughs again as the redheaded girl reentered the room. Startled, his eyes met hers, and she froze in place. He crashed to the floor, and watched the carpet become stained with specks of blood. He looked up at the frozen girl, and noticed the bread in her hand. Through his convulsions he somehow realized that she was trying to help. She was probably the one who gave him the water. The pink-haired man managed to meet her eyes once again, and allowed her to move. "Sorr-" He was cut off by his hacking. The young man forced himself to sit up against the couch. He drew in a few deep breaths, and coughed several more times before the fit subsided. A thin line of blood trickled down his chin from the corner of his mouth. "I'm-" he started, and coughed weakly before he could continue. "-s-sorry," he finished, shuddering again. "Thank you... for the water, he murmured, and eyed the bread hungrily. He didn't want to snatch it from the girl, but he was just so... hungry... He felt his mouth water, and was disgusted by it. Really, Imma! How could you be so rude?! he snapped at himself inward;y, but couldn't stop staring at that hand with the bread. That hand... It bore a power signature - invisible to the ordinary eye. The man tore his eyes from the food, and looked at the kind young lady's face. "You're... you're pyrokinetic..." he commented, and let out a a relieved breath of air. And a few coughs. "Sorry, but erm, that takes a load of my back, I think," he explained shakily. His eyes traveled back to the bread. "I don't have to explain myself much. I myself have freeze vision and power sensing. But you probably knew that," he said hoarsely. "The name's... Well, if I'm being honest, it's Immaculacy. But that's pretentious. Not my choice. I prefer Imma. Or Lancelot. That's my middle name. Lance is fine too. Any one of the three, I don't mind," he introduced himself. His stomach growled, and he blushed slightly. Imma looked down at his hands. "I'm sorry... I've been running a long time. It's not often I get to sit down, talk to someone, relax, eat, drink... You get the picture."
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Post by FREYA ann-marie LOVELL on Oct 29, 2012 20:20:05 GMT -5
Freya stared at him with wide eyes. She didn't remember much about people, but she knew staring was considered impolite but it was just so strange to see someone after so long. She handed him the bread after realizing how badly he wanted it and took a few quick steps back. She felt horrible, she knew she was looked like she didn't want him there. She honestly did, she just didn't know how to express it. "I'm sorry I-" she jumped, a little startled by the sound of her own voice. "I-I haven't seen someone in... 4 years..." She never gave much thought to how long it had been but now she was shocked at the actual number. It's fine it's just a guy... she told herself. She looked down at him as he devoured the bread and slowly sat next to him. "Um, Freya..." she said after a few moments. She looked down at her hand and created a little ball of fire as he mentioned that he knew she had pyrokinesis and looked up at him like she was asking something. She blinked slowly at him, trying to think of how she was supposed to act friendly towards someone.
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Post by IMMACULACY lancelot TURMOIL on Oct 30, 2012 8:09:17 GMT -5
Imma greedily accepted the bread, and scarfed it down, stuffing it in his mouth, and shoving it down his throat as quickly as he could. He couldn't do it fast enough. It tasted so... good... Eating it slowly would be a crime. It would seem as though he didn't like it. As though he weren't grateful. And he was. Oh, how he was grateful! He could kiss this girl right about now. He glanced over at her. Having to kiss her really wouldn't be any affliction. Lance finished the loaf, and cleared his raw throat. A bad idea. He began coughing up blood yet again. He sighed, and muttered something incoherently to himself, his head down in shame. "I'm sorry about your floor... I can clean it up later if you need." He forced himself to pick up his attitude off the floor. He wasn't being his usual friendly self. He cut himself some slack because he'd just escaped the jaws of death, and he was most likely still within their reach. But he should still do his best to be positive. This girl saved his life. He owed her. Something, he realized, he should probably say. "Thank you again. I owe you my life," he murmured genuinely. The blood drained from Imma's face. Four years of solitude? It was unspeakable. He concluded that this girl was either a mental powerhouse or a mental wreck. It didn't matter which one it was, it explained her shyness. He bit his lip. "Do you mind if I ask what such a pretty girl is doing out here in the middle of nowhere?" She really was pretty - no, that word was just about the same as calling her ugly. This girl was gorgeous. A rare beauty, like some exotic flower you find once in a lifetime, if at all. Lance felt a little silly thinking it. He wasn't used to being smitten like this, especially so soon after meeting someone. He dismissed his feelings, deciding that they'd fade away with time. He'd been on the road for quite a while. This girl, Freya, was beautiful, no doubt. But chances were he was just excited to see a friendly face. A pit settled in Lancelot's stomach. A friendly face... The last face he'd seen aside from Freya's had been his cousin's, and that had been far from friendly. Imma cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. He remembered that this was bigger than running from the cops. Royal could track him anywhere. He knew that for a fact. Now Freya would be in danger because of it, wouldn't she? Like his father. He was in danger because of Royal's orders. And he'd ended up dead. This girl had done nothing wrong. She didn't deserve to die because of him. Lance forced a smile. "I'll clear out in the morning. You don't have to worry about me bothering you much longer," he offered. He hated to leave her alone again, but it was for her own good, wasn't it? Perhaps it was a good thing that she didn't have to deal with all the death and pain that surrounded being with other humans. He wouldn't be surprised if she chose to love alone for so long.
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Post by FREYA ann-marie LOVELL on Oct 30, 2012 21:16:32 GMT -5
Freya felt like a deer in the headlights with Imma being around. Like she did know what to do but something was stopping her from carrying it out. After seeing the blood come out of his mouth, she snatched up the glass and returned seconds later with more water. She set the glass next to him and sat back down, watching him as if he was from another planet. She shook her head gently as he apologized for the blood. "It's okay... no one else see it anyway," she said quietly. She looked down, just staring at the bright red droplets and had a few flashbacks of the first time she herself came to the church. "It's nothing compared to what I did in there..." she said somewhat absently, pointing at the sanctuary. In front of all the pews was a mess of brown, her own blood from her first day. She was bleeding severely and wasn't well enough to clean out the stain by the time it set in. She blinked a little bit, returning from her past and smiled at him with a strange mix of sweetness and nervousness when he thanked her for his life. As hard as she tried she couldn't keep herself from reacting to the compliment. Her eyes widened and her face grew bring red, but a sad expression covered her face when she thought about his actual question. "They all hate me... Even if they didn't know me before I burned it down, they know me now and they hate me," she said with a little more emotion. "So I came out here, where no one can hate me because there is no one...." Her head dropped a little bit, remembering the chants of the people who chase her out of society and giving commands to their dogs to shred her. "Clear out? Morning?" she echoed, picking her head up. "B-but-but you know me and you don't hate me!" she said excitedly. "...right...?" she asked quietly. She felt like some kind of animal begging for food or a lost cat trying to get someone to take her in for the night. "Please don't leave... I might never find someone who doesn't hate me again." She moved slightly closer to him and looked up at him with huge, sad eyes. Even though she had become more talkative, she barely felt like herself, and she hated it. Interacting with someone was just what she needed to return to normal.
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Post by IMMACULACY lancelot TURMOIL on Oct 31, 2012 17:48:50 GMT -5
Imma accepted the glass with multiple thank-you's, and began chugging it with purpose. The clear, delicious liquid had vanished within a matter of seconds. He really did owe this girl so much... Judging by her reaction to his confession of his debt, it seemed to be just a couple glasses of water and a loaf of bread to her. But it was his life as well. She could have turned him out or killed him for his intrusion. Left him to die. Simple as that. There was a good chance she would be less hospitable after Lance told her about his cousin. And yet there was the bit about the blood... Like she'd been severely wounded when she got here and survived, though she had made a rather large... mess. That could mean one of two things for him; she was tougher than the average person, and wouldn't think much of being hunted and potentially killed; or she would want nothing to do with him because there would be no way she was going through something like that ever again. He hoped it was the latter, for her own good. Lancelot was the only known person to survive Royal. But more than that, the assassin was known to be particularly brutal. He liked to watch people suffer. Few people knew why. Imma knew. He was getting a bit carried away here. Maybe she hadn't been injured, and this whole thing was totally unrelated to blood. A different kind of mess, perhaps. Her distant look told Lance that probably wasn't the case. His heart ached for the girl as she told her story. Hated by everyone? That may have been a bit of an exaggeration, but still! What horrors Freya must have faced! To be rejected by everyone... Come to think of it, it wasn't much different from his own past. Something that only made matters worse when she begged him to stay. He nearly snapped at her when she asked if he hated her. "Of course I don't! Don't you ever think that! Hate is a nasty word. I rarely use it to describe my feelings toward another person," he promised her. Lancelot had to avert his gaze when she looked up at him with those adorable puppy-dog eyes. To see such a beautiful face contorted even slightly with such desperation was unbearable. She was just too cute. Too charming. He couldn't look at her when he told her "no". But... He might as well give her a choice, right? It was her life in the end. His life as well, but that had been predetermined. It was unaffected by whether or not he stayed here. But her's was. He drew in a deep breath, and let it slowly escape his lips. "You don't want me to stay here, trust me." He squeezed his eyes shut. "Remember how I told you I was running? That's because my cousin's been ordered to kill me, and I have no doubt he'd very much like to do so. He lives for the blood with which he stains his hands. If you've been here for four years, you've probably never heard of him. He's known for his reckless and particularly heinous killings. Let's just say... He's a big fan of barbed wire. He'll murder anyone who gets in his way," Imma explained. He stared Freya straight in the eye. "Including an angelic young woman like yourself." He hated not consoling her for her troubles, something he would normally do in a heartbeat, but he didn't want to get attached. More accurately, he didn't want her to get attached. That would ultimately lead to poor decisions and pain, something he did not want to inflict upon this girl.
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Post by FREYA ann-marie LOVELL on Nov 1, 2012 21:44:25 GMT -5
Freya eyed him when he claimed that he didn't hate her and concluded that he hadn't heard of what she had done since she had convinced herself long ago that anyone who knew would hate her. She closed her fists tightly, nervous that he was going to say that he'd leave. But when he told her the two options, she knew exactly which one she'd prefer. "I don't care if he comes! My whole life is just living in this church- it's not really even a life! I don't know why I didn't let them kill me, I knew I had no future after that. And then when I tried to do it myself, something just stops me every time-" She suddenly stopped and took in a quiet deep breath, realizing that she had gone far off topic. A shiver ran through her body and she knew she had to calm down or she'd freeze. "What I'm trying to say is, I don't really care about my life... And you're probably the only person I'll ever meet who doesn't hate me, and I don't wanna lose that. Whatever this guy is gonna do, I'd rather have someone to talk with and have a shorter life than live forever, alone in this old place. Besides, fire just destroys. It's chaotic, but I can control it," she said with a sad smile. She hoped he knew what he was getting at because she didn't want to really bring up the fact that she could easily kill. She didn't like doing it, but if his cousin was as bad as he said he was, it almost seemed like the right thing. Freya felt a lot more like herself than she had in years, even the years before she ran away. She hated begging like she had been but she didn't care about what little dignity she had left. Even if he did leave and tell someone that she begged, she doubted they could think any lowly of her than they already did. She blinked at him as he complimented her, not sure if she should smile or be happy. She smiled softly, hoping he'd stay with her even if it meant she would die sooner.
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Post by IMMACULACY lancelot TURMOIL on Nov 4, 2012 17:28:38 GMT -5
Imma concluded that Freya had no idea into what she was getting herself. It was one thing to be killed. It was another to be killed by Royal. Lance closed his eyes, and instantly regretted it. The mangled bodies of his cousin's victims flashed across the backs of his eyelids, strewn about a path of light that lead into a dark alley. His cousin stood between two charred bodies, smirking. Lancelot's eyes popped open. He covered his mouth, and leaned forward, tears streaming down his face. Those last six bodies... They didn't belong to his cousin. They belonged to him. He forced himself to sit up straight, and squeezed his eyes shut one more time before pulling himself together. He decided it'd be best to ignore the moment as he had countless times before. There was nothing he could do about it now. He drew in a deep breath, and let it shakily escape his lungs. He swallowed, and opened his mouth to speak. "Alright then. I'll stay. If nothing else, I'll do my best to give you a swift death. One less painful than he'll give you," he promised, and looked at the girl with sad eyes, examining hers. That last comment... Was she suggesting that she would be willing to kill Royal? Or just scare him. Inflict pain. He wasn't sure which would be better for her. Killing someone left guilt ingrained in you for the rest of your life. He knew that all too well. It sounded like Freya's hands were already stained, but adding to the death toll would just cause her more pain. There was no stopping him any other way, though. He'd been particularly relentless lately. There was no chance he was giving up now. Lance bit his lip. "I'm afraid that won't do you any good unless you're willing to kill him. I don't recommend that," he murmured, and refused to go any further. He couldn't tell whether this girl was shying away from her past or begging to hand her sins to him on a silver platter. He didn't think it was the latter, and he didn't want to push her into doing anything. He cared too much. That was his problem. He always cared too much. But Royal was at the other extreme of the spectrum. And when he looked at that, he was grateful. "Trying to get him to feel anything is like trying to scratch a steel wall with a toothpick," he uttered dejectedly, another tear trickling down his cheek. He looked away from Freya. "Do you want to talk about your past or not?" he asked finally. "If you want a shoulder to cry on, mine's right here. If not, I'm happy to make a pact with you - we don't talk about our pasts. Ever." He looked back at her, a weak smile resting on his face. "Of course, you'll be able to break it if you want."
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Post by FREYA ann-marie LOVELL on Nov 10, 2012 22:55:11 GMT -5
Freya didn't like the way he was talking- it sounded like she'd be murdered no matter how things planned out. Nothing was guaranteed in life, as she knew too well. She shifted uncomfortably. She was glad that he was going to stay but the way he put it wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear. She rested her head on her knees and shrugged a little. "I could kill him," she said as if it were no big deal. But it really wasn't for her. What was one more person added to her list of a thousand? Besides, it kind of sounded like he deserved to be burned alive the way Imma talked about him. She glanced over at him, slightly confused at why there were tears on his face. If she had said something to offend him, she didn't mean it. She was frustrated that she had lost her ability to read body language. She narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what might be concerning him. Suddenly they widened and she backed up a little. "N-n-no! What makes you th-think that I'd w-wanna talk about that?" she asked, startled. "I-I-I just- I just- I'm surprised that you ha-haven't heard about what happened- er, I mean what I did...- I don't- If you knew you'd probably hate me and you just said that you didn't and I want it to be like that!" she stammered. She nervously ran her fingers through her hair, looking around and finally covering her face with her knees. "I don't wanna talk about it I'm... fine..."
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Post by IMMACULACY lancelot TURMOIL on Nov 13, 2012 12:23:22 GMT -5
Imma swallowed, and closed his eyes as the tears began to trickle down his cheeks again. Thinking about his cousin and all of these horrid memories made it near impossible to hold them back. He chuckled a little. "I'm sorry. I never cried when I was a kid, so I tend to do it a lot now. Sometimes for no reason," he explained apologetically. Lance wiped away the tears with his dirty, wrinkled sleeve, feeling his stubble prick him gently through the thin fabric. He'd need to shave if there happened to be a razor lying about the cathedral. He hated scruff. Especially when it grew on his upper neck. He scratched the area irritably. It made him feel dirty. Like when he was on the streets. Lancelot cleared his throat, and ran his fingers through his rosie hair. A few more tears spilled out of his eyes. "I don't want you to have to kill him, but if you need to do it, do it," he told her. A sigh escaped his lungs, and he stared at one of the broken windows across from him for a moment before smiling down at his hands. "You have no idea," he murmured, and lifted his eyes to meet Freya's. "My past is no walk in the park either, so don't worry about it. I'm not going to judge you so long as you don't judge me," he promised. "But if you really don't want to talk about it, my offer still stands. I won't ever bring up the past unless you do so first." He froze suddenly, a deer in headlights. No... That can't be right! It's too soon! How in the world did he move that fast? And without my noticing! "He's here. Hide. He's come for me, so he won't be looking for you," he said stiffly, and stood, pulling a pair of deer horn knives out of the little bag he'd managed to bring with him. He placed one securely in each hand. "Here goes. Wish me luck," he uttered softly.
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Post by ROYAL quincy TURMOIL on Nov 13, 2012 12:29:33 GMT -5
A pair of azure eyes peered through the brush, glowing like fireflies. Cold and calculating, they glared at the old church. At last, they'd found their targets. Both of them. What luck! They could kill two birds with one stone. Hmmm... Maybe they would make that a bit more literal. Whatever. It didn't really matter. Just so long as the victims felt pain. The eyes slowly floated upward, revealing the body that held them. Tall, lean, and rigid, as though he could be mistaken for a tree. The eyes blinked once upon the placid face. This would be a challenge if the two were getting along. The girl had killed countless people before, so she wouldn't be afraid to attack, especially if Imma had told her anything about him. He'd already lost to his cousin once. He didn't feel like doing it again. A voice chirped in his ear. "Don't-" The eyes bubbled with irritation, and the man plucked out a minute device from his ear. He examined it for a moment before crushing it and tossing it to the ground. That's what had cause his defeat last time. He wasn't going to be stopped this time. He would complete the assignment or die trying. He had no other option, at least not in his mind. He had a reputation, a rank to hold. If these two got away again, he would slowly begin to lose his status of deadliest man on the face of the Earth. And that was no option. His cousin's abilities were a nuisance, though. There was no doubt in the assassin's mind that he knew he was here. There would be no surprises. Imma was too strategic. Funny. He was a downright idiot when it came to math, English, science, history, or any other school subject for that matter. Even lunch. But when it came to chess, he was undefeated. He was a tactical mastermind. That's why the organization wanted him - dead or alive. The cerulean-haired man vanished for a few seconds before appearing in front of his salmon-haired cousin. He pulled a small metal cylinder out of his pocket. He punched the air, and two long poles shot out each end. "Shall we get this over with?"
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Post by FREYA ann-marie LOVELL on Nov 19, 2012 22:19:09 GMT -5
Freya's eyes seemed to be attached to Imma. She didn't mean to stare, it had just been years since she had seen another person, so she couldn't help it. She didn't think she'd be so sensitive when someone brought up her past, but then again she didn't expect to see anyone ever again and assumed that anyone she did met knew about it and therefore she would not have to say anything about it. She shook her head slowly. It didn't make her feel good saying that she didn't want to tell him. It was a strange feeling- she wished he knew, but she was also glad that he didn't, and she didn't want to talk about it. He, on the other hand, seemed completely open about it, almost like he wanted to tell her but didn't want to force it on her. She jerked her head up, coming back to earth as he instructed her to hide. She ran into the sanctuary and darted under one of the pews. She knew the pews was probably the first place Royal would look but she could defend herself well and there was a nearby door so she wouldn't burn the church down. She looked out and saw the two face to face and was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling like she wanted to protect Imma. She wasn't quite sure why, but she didn't question it. It was the first person to be nice to her in years, she wasn't going to let that go without a fight. She positioned herself under the pew so that she would be able to help Imma in a second.
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