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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.
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"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.
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Several days pass in fraught succession. Little is said between the group as Kasdeja's alien presence bears down upon them. They travel eastward, several miles inland from the coast, taking to the remnants of roads when it is safe to do so, trekking across the blasted wilderness when it is not.
Eventually, they arrive at the outskirts of a ruined settlement. It's broad, decapitated pillars hearken back to a lost age, even its memory forgotten by the world, the vision of grand open-air temples and acropoli long faded into the void of history. Shealtiel informs them that they have reached the ruins of Phillipi, where Paul once preached in the wake of his master's death. Among the broken columns, small, disparate shelters can be seen, though there is no sign of movement among them. Kasdeja seems unperturbed by their stop; if anything, the Nephilim looks to be idly curious about the ruins, standing in the central aisle of the APC, gazing vacantly out the front window. What he is thinking is, as always, an impossible enigma. |
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.
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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."
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