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  2. Alinta | [Word Count: 7410/5 = 1482] * [True Tier: 4] * [Group Factor: 1] = 5928 EXP Scar | [Word Count: 7410/5 = 1482] * [True Tier: 3] * [Group Factor: 1] = 4446 EXP
  3. The first thing Jack became aware of was silence. Not the strained, buzzing kind that came with pain or confusion, but a rare, peaceful quiet. His breathing no longer hitched, the ache in his limbs gone, replaced by a dull hum of exhaustion. The antidote had done its job. For the first time in what felt like forever, he could move. His fingers twitched experimentally against the sheets. They responded, slow, obedient. Then came his arms, his shoulders, his legs. It felt strange, like waking up in someone else's body after a long dream. Jack turned his head slightly, blinking thr
  4. The man curled up against her, and the warmth from the sun was long gone and replaced with the chill of night. Alinta wondered if she should have cozied up under the covers with Scar. That…would have been nice, but the two hadn’t quite gotten to that point in their relationship yet. The woman wasn’t even sure if they were still supposed to be together. She wasn’t sure how long he had sat there, silent. She thought he had fallen asleep, and had gone to carefully move, but it was then that he spoke, voice muffled as it broke the wavering silence between them. "Raven..Don’t…don't say sorry."
  5. The cold never ending A sentence that unnerved Mari, it made her cling to him tighter. A promise, through body, then through words. “Never again. I’ll ensure you will never feel such a thing again.” He held her close, and Mari soaked up that warmth with her fingers, sprawling them up and under his jacket, removing it. “You have no need to quit. Although…” A pause, unsure if they would leave. “If we ever find ourselves in the real world again, perhaps you cut back - I’d be lost without you with me.” "Jonathan..." The name spoken with absolute disgust. How he h
  6. Mari’s hand trailed down V’s back. Her lips drew close, but not quite touching to her neck. “I admit..I-” A small stumble, a struggle with her drunken motor skills. “I’m glad…I have shomeone like you to dance with.” Then, came Lancaster - not quite as she expected. Rose in his lapel, and hair slicked back- the heavy scent of whiskey permeating from him. Mari snorted as she covered her mouth. Trying not to laugh. This was the all consuming tyrant. This was the man people feared. This absolute dork who looked like he just bathed in a glass of whiskey, who had ripped a rose from its place an
  7. Feeling the warmth of her thighs across his legs, the pressure like a warm blanket that gave him an anchor. Every word he spoke she hung on, the look of interest and proof of him being heard. It wasn't a story he'd ever considered to be relevant or that he would share with anyone, especially given how far away such a world seemed. "Sometimes I remember what its like, a dream where I can't get warm. The cold never ending." He spoke finding himself back in her clutches, peeling her warmth as a fight against that memory. "But our bed has made them... scarce." He milled accepting her legs into his
  8. Her heartbeat was the first thing he noticed, steady, fragile, real. It grounded him, even as the room swayed in a haze of light and shadow. His body trembled when she lifted him, warmth spilling from her into his bones, quieting the restless ache that had refused to leave. Jack's breathing steadied against her shoulder, his hand weakly fisting into the fabric of her sleeve. The name she'd used, Scar, Jack, it all blurred together now. He wasn't sure which one of them was real. Maybe both were. Maybe neither. "Raven.." he murmured, the syllables breaking softly, more breath than soun
  9. Aeva looked down at the creature as Mari patted it, remarking that not everything was deserving of a chance. Aeva was now starting to understand the emotion she saw in the other’s gaze better with her words. She had been hurt before, and it changed her in some way or another. Aeva could never know the specifics, but Mari’s tone spoke heavily with experience. Perhaps the white-haired woman should not have been surprised, given what she had heard about this floating castle and all the darkness that came with it. “Maybe you’re right,” Aeva said in a soft tone as she kept her eyes on the cre
  10. Despite the heavy topic of discussion, Mari couldn’t help but feel wells of pride roll through her as she felt his breath hitch and pause at the entrance - how his eyes lingered on various pieces of marble, the paintings, a grand staircase. Far too extravagant and gaudy for her tastes, but for him…it felt perfect. A chuckle and a grin set her a little more at ease as he carried her to an adjacent room. A study. “Apple of your eye….” Mari mused, and as Lancaster came to sit by her she slid over him, straddling him, resting firmly in his lap. Hands running over his shoulders, resting on his
  11. His breath hitched, and Alinta felt the flutter of his lashes against her skin. She pulled away, softly - carefully and replaced her lips with a thumb, wiping remnants of the antidote away from his mouth. Would it work? Could he move again? He seemed to be able to talk more now at the very least. If he wanted her to leave, she would - at least Alinta was able to taste him one last time, even if it were tainted by the bitterness of antidote. “You’re okay…” She whispered, and Alinta wasn’t sure who she was trying to tell that to. “You’re okay…” repeating the mantra as she pressed her forehead ag
  12. Warmth. That's what reached him first. It pooled faintly against his lips, bitter, foreign, yet familiar somehow, followed by the ghost of a touch that pulled him from the dark. Jack stirred. His breath hitched as his lashes fluttered open, vision still hazy and trembling around the edges. The faintest light slipped through the curtains, breaking across the outline of someone close, her. For a moment, he didn't move. He just listened. To the quiet rhythm of their breaths mingling, the subtle rustle of fabric when she shifted slightly. It felt unreal, like the world had stilled just f
  13. Another glass of whiskey squirmed down his palette, tapped to the counter and a raise of two thumbs makes for an eighth. The boiling in his stomach had him feeling the lick of intoxication, swelled to the brim on chemical persuasions. From his jacket pocket he slips in a pair of fingers and out comes a jimmy to pop into his lips, Lancaster adjusts his mask and slides closer to make good on his promise. Pulling at the tie to loosen it a tad, a pair of pinched fingers unbutton the top most fastener. A dab of whiskey spread across his palms, he'd rake it through his hair to straighten it out and
  14. A press of her forehead into the nape of his neck gave him the fuel he needed to bound up the stairs with a bit more moxie then it was at first, providing him the strength to make the woman feel almost weightless. Vincent smiles with a flare of pride, that same cocky grin that he always had around her. One that most never would witness and yet she managed to drudge it out of him so easily. That of a man not tarnished in sin, that hid beneath a scowl or aloof stare he always wore. "Of course mi amore, you are the apple of my eye. It pleases me to call you mine, and when you grow possessive the
  15. The instant the smoke hit the air, Jack's hand moved instinctively toward his side, but there was no weapon to draw. Just the weight of old reflexes. The haze settled, and Vex was gone, his voice still echoing faintly like a cruel ghost in the clearing. Jack didn't move at first. The spot where Vex had stood still carried that faint, acrid tang of smoke and sulfur, hanging just long enough to sting back at his throat. His breath came slow, steady, deliberately so. He couldn't give into the adrenaline coursing through him. Not now. "...Papa Tybalt," he muttered, repeating the name qui
  16. 11/3/25 (Crafting Respite: 249785, Ambition: 251238, Atelier (Ext. | +2 EXP, +1 Attempt, Goblet of Truth (Tablet) | +1 CD) Roll: ID# CD: LD: Quality Count Experience Ambition Mod 1 256491 CD: 11 +1 LD: 13 Perfect - 14 (+6 Ambition) 2 256492 CD: 11
  17. Antidote acquired an hour ago. Turns out a store next door had one, apparently it wasn’t one of the most potent ones; but it would do its job. Alinta rolled it around in her hands, standing before the door to Scars room. No, she supposed it was to Jacks room. How long had she been standing there? How long had she sat in that dark alleyway and cried? Alinta wasn’t good with this sort of thing. Terrible at it really. She didn’t like facing the reality of things, it's why she spent so much time at home, so much time playing video games. Its why she didn’t reach out to many people, and that t
  18. As he sat there in his foyer, Oscar was pulled in two different directions. Torn between writing out his Last Will and Testament and throwing himself back into his work, all he could really think to do was pet his dog. Staring off into space, barely noticing the soft fur of the creature who had curled up beside him and rested his head on his lap. Oscar was a thousand miles away, mind racing at a thousand miles an hour. His movements were jerky, robotic. Simply going through the motions. It reminded him of that first Quest Boss he’d fought. That first real fight. Where it came down to the
  19. “Yeah, I know.” His double reached over and patted him on the shoulder. “But you shouldn’t worry about it. Judging from the reaction time, you got some bomb doctors looking out for you. And hey, you’ve been shot before. Shouldn’t be much worse. Just… uh. We don’t recommend any combat for a minute. At least until this all shakes out.” His double craned his neck, once more listening to a voice that Oscar couldn’t hear. He nodded along, finally hopping to his feet. “Well that’s about it for me. You just enjoy your sick tats and try not to worry about stuff too much. It’ll be fine.
  20. A long silence passed between him and his double. Suddenly, the other Oscar tilted his head to the side, perking up his ears as if he was listening to something. A smile crept onto his face and he nodded quickly. “There we go. Should be back up in… now.” A wave of relief crashed over him. His muscles - tensed from the pain in his chest - relaxed. The burning abated and he felt the strength return to his limbs. Oscar exhaled a ragged sigh of relief, pushing himself up off the floor and rolling onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling, doing his best to get his bearings. “So the
  21. “Easy there cowboy.” There was the sound of feet padding over the floor. He tried to crane his neck, to at least lay eyes on the intruder. Again, his body failed him on something so simple. Every attempt to move made that searing pain in his chest roar back with a vengeance. The intruder stepped into view. At first, all Oscar could see was his bare feet. Then, he sat down. A copy of his avatar, though there were a few differences. Dark striations marred his skin, coiling around his body. He looked like those pictures of lightning strike survivors. The electricity having followed the path
  22. His world went dark. Dark static taking over his vision - beginning at the center and bleeding outward. It felt like an eternity, but it must have only been seconds. Another warning flashed over his vision, bright and vibrant against the umbra. This one was purple. Not the warning red that he’d just been subjected to. Error detected. Recalculating. Seconds passed. Vital diagnostics initiated. Results indicate cessation of Cardiac function for 7.8 seconds. My heart stopped. Interference determined to be the result of life-saving measures - presumably via electric shock.
  23. “Attack! Oh Jack!” I gave a fake swoon. “No, no, no…” I tutted him with a single finger. What a simple boring dull minded fool. “Look at you!” With a flourish of a cape and an outstretched hand toward the man. “You’re here! You’re alive! Attack? No, no Mon Cherie! A liberation! To be free!” I twisted my palm and tilted my head, watching as perspective made it look like I was holding his face in the palm of my hand. I crushed it, then dusted it off on my vest. “Don’t accuse my dear sister of such things! She didn’t attack you! She just tried to free you from that….silly…little…pile of m
  24. The day had begun like any other. Oscar rose to greet the dawn, swinging his legs out of his bed. As his feet touched the floor, he raised his arms above his head, shaking out the doldrums from the night’s rest. Strangely, he was in a pretty good mood. Nothing was really weighing on his mind. The stress and anxiety of the Blackbook’s opening night was far behind him. Truly, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He let out a yawn, covering his face as he slowly ambled towards the door. Maybe he’d call up… someone. He could do with a day off. Some good, old-fashioned rest and relaxation.
  25. The door closed with a muted click that echoed far too loudly. The sound reverberated in Jack's skull like a gunshot, fading into silence that pressed down on him until even breathing felt like it took effort. Her scent lingered, a hint of citrus and vanilla, carried faintly by the air she left behind. It was the only proof she had been real, that she hadn't simply been another vision conjured by fever or regret. He wanted to move, to chase after her, to say something that might undo the hollow weight she'd carried in her voice. But his body wouldn't obey. The poison still clung to h
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