Dante, after kicking his boots off, slumped into a corner. Arguing with your inner demon. Literally. Although Lev didn't sound like he was losing his head. Or maybe long days stuck inside the APC had made Dante accustomed to the sheer madness of it all.

"Hope you don't mind," Dante muttered to Feenai, pulling out a smoke and fumbling for his lighter, "The monster's driving m--"

With a startled yelp, Dante dropped the lighter, which he'd been holding the wrong way and had consequently succeeded in cooking some of the skin on his thumb. He bit it, looking for all the world like some huge baby not yet out of the thumb-sucking habit, then tried again.

"It doesn't really matter," Feenai answered numbly, "if you kill yourself slowly with that, or if something comes along and kills us quickly. It just feels like all of us will die before our time." She laid her arms across the steering wheel and put her head on them, and continued waiting.

This time, Dara does shiver with Kasdeja's mental intrusion. Not at all familiar with psychic ability of any kind, she finds this first occasion more than a little unsettling, and it reminds her of some of the more disturbing creatures she had encountered along the way.

"No one's ever asked me that before. Why? What do you think I am?" She can't help the question, now findering herself as equally jittery as confused by Kasdeja's proddings and the situation in general.

Lethe stands as though fighting sleep.

Michael followed behind the pair almost silently as they got to the APC. Looking at the bodies only made him want to throw up a second time, but luckily he resisted it.
He passed Lev without even noticing that he was talking to himself and sat down inside the vehicle.
Looking at Dante smoke made him urge for a light as well. "Can I have one?" he asked him, those his mind felt elsewhere. Dropping his bag on the ground of the car, he went through his pack to see what was left: food capsules, courage capsules, the journal although it's mostly ruined, the water filter and a his gun. The regular rations had been ruined and the canteen was contaminated by wormwo-...a thought came back to him that he hadn't realized before. "Psychic aura hasn't effected me before, so what's happening to me is..." After zipping up his bag, he walked outside the car and hurled again, ignoring whether Dante pulled out a second smoke or not.

Dante had in fact fumbled out a second smoke, and was trying to light both at the same time when the stench wafted in and nearly made him choke. Dropping Michael's, he ran out, hitting his head hard on the ceiling.

Oh shit. Oh fucking shit. The same had happened to Gabe that time. He whacked Michael's back, and yelled in desperation for someone to filter water for him.

"That will have to wait," Kasdeja snaps as he walks away from Dara. "Come along, and we can talk about it all you want." He tromps off back toward the APC, his long legs bending at odd angles, seeming almost to flow and flex as he walks.

After he has gone, Shealtiel stares at Dara for a moment, then, after she makes no move to follow, says, "I do not advise refusing him. He forced forty men and women to kill themselves on a whim not long ago, all to prove some insignificant point to us. He does not take well to being denied. I do not know what he wants from you, but, I will admit freely: the more humans around us with that thing, the better."

Holding his gaze upon her for a moment longer, he eventually turns away, leaving her to follow or remain as she will.

Dara watches Shealtiel for a moment. Just as he starts to round the corner up the path, she says behing him,

"what should I do with Lethe?"

As Michael cleaned himself up for the second time that day, he felt himself sweat a cold sweat. Was it fear that drove him into his current symptoms of distress, or perhaps the unexpectedness of the chain of events. Though these thoughts ran through his head they were no longer conscious thoughts as even the apparent yelling that was next to him dulled into a silence that could almost be considered a fantasy.
Sooner than he had expected, Michael doubled over away from the sun and suffered symptoms of the last method that he had used from using onto his prisoners, wormwood-water boarding.

Lev watched Michael with amusement, cocking an eyebrow and a wry grin. He'd watched the people he grew up and fight beside die from trying to drink the unfiltered water. Wars had been fought over clean water, wars he had participated in. Had done terrible things during those wars. Awful.

He shook his head, trying to forget. With a heave he stood up, having to stop himself from banging against the top of the APC. He walked casually towards Michael, giving him a curious eye.

"You need help?"

Michael looked up at the seemingly omnipotent figure. His head was throbbing in pain and he could barely thnk. His gut feeling told him to say no to him without a second thought because he would think that Lev would be more likely to let him suffer than help him...however... Michael shook his head, as though trying to shake off the heat. "Livelihood before pride, Michael."
"Yeah, get me the water filter from my bag. I need it to clean the water in my canteen."

Lev left Michael momentarily to retrieve the bag in question. He rummaged through it, pulling out what he could only assume was the water purifier. It looked strange to him. He had seen the large ones, but portables were rare and he had seen little. Or at least, seen them operated. Sitting down in front of Michael's twisting form, he prodded it with a cautious finger.

"So um...how does it work?"

Casting a weary gaze back over his shoulder, raising his voice against the rising wind, Shealtiel calls back to the girl, "Ride him, if he's fast enough. Otherwise, leave him to this..." he spreads his arms at the wasteland around them, "lovely pasture." Leaning on his cane, he takes up once more the path in Kasdeja's wake.

Michael was quickly running out of time and patience as he grew hotter and hotter, watching Lev rummage through his bag. But by the time he found it, he had already unscrewed the canteen of wormwood. His hands shook as water spilled over the edge of the canteen, but he didn't care as he let it lean against the APC. His head pounded more and more, as he felt as though his eyes were going yellow with dehydration. In reality, they weren't, but he felt that way nonetheless. Now, with his hands free, he pressed the button on the filter, opening the top of the machine. As he reached again for the canteen, his vision skewed again, and he nearly knocked over the canteen as he picked it up. He poured the water into the machine, filling up only the top half of the machine. Closing it, the water drained down, leaving a dark, mysterious residue. Snatching the filter from Lev, he drank straight from the bottom of the machine, feeling only slightly more nourished than before.

Dante waited with some relief as Michael seemed to get better, albeit only slightly. But he's pretty sensitive to wormwood, Dante mused. Gabe's symptoms hadn't been nearly as bad; it was just other things coupled with the poison that had killed him.

Lev chuckled a bit, watching Michael wrestle with the water.

"Humans are kind of frail, aren't you?"

He stopped, face aghast at what he had said. Humans? He was human. Why would that slip out?

Because we're each other, Lev. I am you.

Lev spoke out, not even looking at Michael as he picked him up from the ground and stood him up.

"I will not be you. And you will never be me. I am human!"

You are human no longer. Your flesh holds itself together because I will it. I can weave you any way I please!"

Lev bit his bottom lip. He couldn't hold anything back from Na'lsa, he could easily read his every thought. But somehow holding his tongue still felt like restraint.

"If I would not die, I would say find another body, Demon."

Not so easy, when this body is who I am!

Lev sighed, letting it rest for now. He looked at the weakened Michael, giving him a sheepish grin.

"I promise you that my mind is not addled. I think we should be going when the others arrive."

Dara watched the two beings leave, that being the best work she could think of at the moment. She honestly wondered whether or not to just leave the entire matter behind her and continue on.

She knew often when she was being watched. Any mundane animal could pick that up with enough practice or need. He was over one hundred meters away, but she could still make out the image of his disfigured upper body rising above the rock path from which Sheal'tiel had since disappeared.

Decision unmade, she walked down the path far enough to step away from the rocks and towards the river. Lethe followed her course. She lay his reins over a jutting portion of rock. It wouldn't hold, but the horse knew the gesture. She could still see Kasdeja from her new position as he insisted still on staring. She was, perhaps, some fifty feet away from the river when she heard the soft and heavy thump.

The saddle bags were nothing she couldn't carry, and she shouldered her small rifle, needing neither Kasdeja's watching or Sheal'tiel's footsteps to make her way along what she instinctively knew would be the safest path up from the river. She arrived at a stationary vehicle and collection of people, including the two men she met a short time ago, the one having moved on to a new pain it seemed.

She looked about. "Hello."

Feenai snapped out of her self induced daze as the new woman entered the APC. Her mind is so...calming. It's nice. She slid around in the chair to greet the woman, hoping that she'd be a new companion because the calming feeling was quite wonderful. "Hi, my name is Feenai. It's nice to meet you." Feenai smiled warmly.

She looked back further and saw Michael sitting on the floor of the APC, and silently berated herself for not realizing what was going on. He looks like he's in pain but I can't read him at all. Feenai sighed inwardly and decided to drop it. He had been helped and there wasn't much else she could do for him right now.

"Since we're all here, are then any objections to continuing? I'd prefer for us to get moving, because this place feels bad." Her mind wandered over the men who had killed themselves at Kasdeja's command and shivered.

Dante had awkwardly helped Michael back into the APC and sat him down a bit roughly against the interior, then plopped down in his usual corner and closed his eyes.

"Go ahead, get us out of here. It reeks of iron." Dante sensed the slightly forced smile from Fee. At least she seemed set on moving ahead.

He considered the newcomer for a bit. Human? Hmm. ...But why the hell is it so damn hard to read her?! She definitely felt human for the most part, but...

Dante shrugged to himself. How much more screwed up could this people get, anyways?

"Where are we going?" Dara asked as she followed Feenai into the car, looking briefly at Michael -or John, as it might be. She lingered near Feenai for a moment, before taking whatever seat happened to present itself.

"To the place-shut up!-where it all began"

Lev interjected on his own sentence, appearing outwardly like he was arguing with himself. His face took a quizzical look for a moment before he rolled his eyes, deciding whatever mental struggle he was having was over.

"Eden. Fruits and things like that. I could use a fruit right now. I think apple is a fruit? I had an apple once. Was very special."

He shrugged as he smiled sheepishly, like a small child might shyly describe their fourth birthday party. His eyes landed on the woman's small rifle, taking an instant interest on whatever it may be. He pointed, trying to be polite to her.

"What make is that?"

Michael attempted to listen in, but he was definitely tired. After trying to swim his way through the currents and climb the cliff, he wouldn't even try to push himself to do anything physically straining. "But what if I tried to use my powers to strengthen myself like my parents? Or maybe if I were to modify my lungs correctly they could filter out more CO2 giving me more energy. However even if it's dangerous, I need to rest for now."

And at that thought he fell asleep, his mind open to those who wish to enter his dreams.

Shealtiel follows Dara into the APC, uncomfortably aware of Kasdeja's presence behind him. Does the Nephilim think this empty courtesy will ease over the threat of his presence among them? He studies his companions as he makes his way back to his seat, noting their varying conditions. None of them seem to be paying Kasdeja much mind.

Knowing that the abomination can read his every thought makes Shealtiel feel a certain kind of honesty of expression when it comes to addressing the group. No point in mincing words.

"Feenai, you should get us moving. We don't want to anger him... or whatever emotion it is that triggers him killing us all. Dara, he adds, strap yourself in. We have a long way to go." He is intentionally speaking around the Nephilim, refusing to so much as look in its direction.

He is not sure what he senses of Dara, and, he conjects, likely none of them are. The very fact that the Nephilim stopped them to retrieve her betrays a mystery about her nature that none of them are likely to solve any time soon.

Thinking back to the appalling massacre in the Pass, Shealtiel muses on his earlier threat to Kasdeja, wondering, not for the first time, just what will happen upon his death. The power of Sheol is so intrinsically bound up in his own spiritual being, he may lose himself utterly once that last candle-flicker of life is snuffed.

If such should be the case, he would dearly like to test the Nephilim, then. There is a certain innate arrogance to the creature that offends the stoic, abiding, passionless forces of Abaddon's realm. Not to mention, he would just like to see that one, sublime moment of shocked surprise when Kasdeja felt icy fingers closing about his heart.

Alas, though, Shealtiel planned on living for a while yet.

Feenai nodded silently and turned in the driver's seat to start the engine and get the APC moving. Letting the engine warm up a bit, she then shifted into gear and started driving.

From the roof of the APC, Dante took a quick "glance" around him. Besides below him in the vehicle, there were nearly no strong lights around. Bored and uninterested, he let his mind wander again, trying to ignore the heat that bit into his skin. Suddenly, black did not seem like such a great color to wear, although he's left his shirt in one of the corners of the APC...

He flopped back down, spread-eagle. Damn that damn nephilim-person-thing-idiot.

Lev looked around with anxious eyes. He had gone quieter and quieter over the last few days. Truth be told there was nothing wrong with him specifically. It was Na'lsa that worried him. The demon had not fed in a while, and its more base nature was beginning to show in Lev's mind. Eloquent thoughts of grandeur had devolved to mindless ramblings of hunger. But without a prospective meal of power, Na'lsa had been unable to coax himself out to manipulate his host body.

Lev knew that it was only a matter of time. Unless some poor unknown soul was sacrificed, one of his acquaintances would be another lamb culled from the lion's flock.

His eyes flicked upwards as the APC came to a stop. He stood up quickly, eager for the air outside. As he stood the rustear devour, consume fleshteardown raw materialsrebuildthefleshconsumeculltheflocktheflockmustbecu lledconsumedevourdestroyhuntkillconsumethefallencr eatethefallenforconsumationeatofthebodyfleshsotend erholyfleshconsumethefleshmurdereatconsume...

Lev reeled, hand going to the side of his head. The ramblings had gone in and out. This particular session had given him a slight headache. After regaining his bearings, he spoke.

"We have a problem. He needs to eat."

His voice was hoarse, drenched in despair and oozing a battered will. Sunken eyes revealed the sleepless nights where he had sat awake, unable to fall asleep to the ramblings of a soul driven mad with hunger. If Lev had an end, he appeared to be reaching it soon.

As Michael was roused from his sleep, he felt his stomach rumble a little, giving evidence of his hunger. Over the days of traveling (which he slept through almost entirely) he recovered from the wormwood, taking water, once in a while, by filtering it from the ocean, but his normal rations depleted and he had to switch to pills, which he was not used to. He had used 2 now, and was reluctant to use another, even as his stomach rumbled. The side effects of supplements and poisons seemed to be hurting him more so than it would hurt other people, giving him a new caution towards them.

He opened the side door to stretch out before saying, "I'm gonna go look around for something useful. Anyone feel like following?"

Feenai's mind was churning thanks to having to listen to both Na'lsa and Kasdeja's thoughts for the past few days. She felt sick by how different they were from the humans she had encountered, though she had a feeling that their thoughts were at least purer than some humans.

"I'll go with you, Michael. I've been sitting in this driver's seat too long and need to walk around some." Feenai slung the laser and her makeshift grenade bandoleer over her shoulders and slid out of the APC to follow Michael.

Shealtiel, before making any move to leave the vehicle, turns toward Kadeja and asks him, "Can you sense anything?"

The Nephilim is silent for a moment -- whether questing with his mind or simply ignoring the Servant of Sheol is anyone's guess -- before answering, "Nothing interesting." As if to emphasize his point, he moves toward an unoccupied seat, sitting down and closing his eyes. "You have an hour," he says to no one in particular.

Staring at the creature for a few seconds longer, Shealtiel nods curtly and extricates himself from his seat-belt, moving to join the others. "This was a holy place, once," he tells them. "It would be unwise, I think, to assume it's abandoned. Make sure you're all armed." To Feenai he adds with a look of concern, "How are we on fuel?"

Dante managed to catch the old man's question and wondered if the APC could run on his motorcycle fuel.

Hm? What's so interesting, that they're going into the ruins...? Dante pondered as he noticed the three outside the vehicle, letting the smoke from the cigarette waft slowly upwards and disappear.

"Good to hear," Michael said. His first thought after the Nephilim spoke was "one hour head start" but then he disregarded since he had no where better to go just yet. Looking towards the ruin, he also had other thoughts than food. Weaponry and research materials were bound to be here, considering the history. Raiders wouldn't dare to go too far, so that would be exactly where the treasures are. He walked quickly, only going slow enough so that Feenai could keep up.

Feenai looked at Shealtiel thoughtfully, not quite understanding the question at first. "We have plenty of fuel for the APC. It's a good engine and has a solar battery, so it doesn't use a lot of fuel as long as we keep moving. Us, on the other hand..." She let out an audible sigh. "All we have left are capsules. We really don't have that much water left either. If we can't at least find water here we might need to try to find that as soon as we can."

Dara emerged from the ATV somewhat cautiously, taking a look around the place as she does so. She looks as much curious about their surroundings as concerned for what might be hiding among them.

Keeping her small rifle on her shoulder, she trots to catch up to Feenai and Michael, most at ease with the woman than several of the others. Once walking next to the psychic, she asks quietly, "what does he mean by 'he'?" referring to Lev's latest comment.

Lev emerged from the APC, swathed in his ragged cloak. He stumbled for a moment before regaining his footing, summoning his strength to ignore what was happening to his other half.

He watched the three for the time being, unsure if he should follow them or not. He almost contemplated leaving altogether, lest Na'lsa go insane and force him to actually eat someone from their group. On the other hand though, he felt slightly...needed. Deciding to tag along with the group, he caught up to them as Dara had finished saying something indiscernible to him. He jutted in, trying to sound as if he wasn't affected too badly.

"So what are we supposed to find here? Are we on sightseeing adventure or should we start digging graves?"

Feenai looked at the woman trying to remember her name. "Dara...right? Lev is possessed by a demon and has been for a long time, from what I can gather." She turned to Lev. "As for your question, I'm just here to stretch my legs, so it may as well be either as far as I'm concerned." Not to mention getting away from that THING'S oppressive mind. If it could even be called a mind.

Without a word, Shealtiel struts ahead of them, then, with deliberate movements, points with his cane into the distance.

Stretching out before them among the ruins are towering shapes, scattered in seemingly no organized pattern. Crucifixes. Dozens of them. Of the few nearby, none of the victims show any sign of movement, hanging limp.

Dust swirls around them, making it difficult to see further. The old man waits for them to decide upon a course of action, unsure of what precisely is going on here, though he is beginning to suspect....

Lev looked ahead, eying the dead in front of them. From the distance he couldn't judge the decay on the bodies (if there was any to begin with), so there was no way for him to tell just how long they had been there. Still, it made him nervous. He unshouldered the Mosin-Nagant, bringing it up just in case. It seemed quiet for bodies to just be hanging there to him. He whispered to the group, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

"I say ambush. Get low, get a weapon."

"Oi!" Michael called out, trying to grab some attention. He payed little mind to the crosses as he stopped at the entrance to the staircase he was originally headed towards. He planned to enter inside in the same manner anyhow. Activating both his gun and his interdiction badge, he motioned Feenai to follow him, silently, and he moved to crouch by the doorway, but not in it. As soon as someone would be there to cover the other side, he would rush in and take out the man directly behind the wall, which he always expected to be there.

Sensing the tense auras, Dante reluctantly slid off the roof and walked towards Shealtiel and the rest of the group, still bored with the proceedings.

Pfft. These people get nervous way too easily. But still, he tried to focus and seek out any possible signs of life.

Dara snapped a surprised look in Michael's direction, shocked that the man would decide to shout like that and then take an apparently stealthy approach. Dara had survived as long as she had by being quiet and unobtrusive, and those instincts kicked in as she kept alert for any reacitons to Michael's call, her aura diminishing until is was near undetectable.