Topic: Scarred: Seek Your Nearest Exit

CherubicMagic

Date: 2010-10-13 11:45 EST
Days... No. Weeks. Yes.

It had been weeks now since she'd had that unsettling gut deep crank, that dark feeling of something ominous creeping up and lapping at her booted heels. Lilliana had shrugged if off as her seasonal despair that the autumn was upon them and winter would soon be too, further chasing away her beloved summer sun and the energy it brought her. But no. The turning season didn't bring thick clouds of people with them that spoke in dark whispers. The turning of the season didn't bring the inexplicable, unfashionable rush of black ribbons to the throats and hair and wrists of so many of the townsfolk. No.

There were too many little coincidences piling up, too many unwelcome, familiar feelings prickling at the base of her brain with each passing day. A name kept floating to the murky surface of her thoughts, but each time that happened, the gypsy witch pushed it away. No. It couldn't be him, it was just some silly bit of her imagination that refused to rest ever since that man, that thing, had used her. There was a baby to think of that she and her family all held their breath for, there was the ritual of Samhain to think of, the city's Harvest Festival, the recent visit with Zayveon's children.... Now was not the time to let memories rise up and attack her day to day peace.

But memories didn't sail down from the sky in the form of violent explosions of light and manmade fire, and that was exactly what happened when she'd been out to market later in the night for a bit of supplies she'd been running low on during her dealings with Niamh earlier in the evening. The herbs she'd just purchased went up in a rush as the gypsy hurriedly cast a protective force about her and the merchant she'd been dealing with. The man shrieked in fear as he watched the back half of his shop disappear in a flurry of brick and building insulation through the translucent haze of the witch's magic shielding. He moved towards the edge and began to push at Lilliana's creation even as the smoke and fire licked around them; it was about to consume the whole of his building, and some vain part of the man couldn't watch it happen.

"N-no! My life! My home, my shop! P-please! I have to do something!" He was frantic, and his body pushing against the sphere she'd put around them was wearing on Lilliana's concentration. Sweat began to beat her brow as she tried to even her voice out.

"Sir, ya'... Ya' go' t'st'op. Ya' can always rebuild, please, jus' ge' away from the border like tha', yer gonna' break through an' I can'-NO!" Her pleading turned to a cry as she watched the man. He'd not heeded her warning, but pressed it; the gypsy had been explaining the danger of her shield, of it's weakness, and instead of caring and moving away, the merchant broke through and knocked them both asunder.

As Lilliana pulled herself up from the cold, hard ground, the smell of burning wood and singed hair flooded her nose. Then something worse; the smell of charred flesh. She didn't have to look to know the man was dead.

Turning her eyes away to the horror that'd befallen the city, the gypsy found her molten eyes swimming behind their lids. So much death, so much destruction, and all behind the blink of an eye. What had happened? Who could have...

That name she'd so desperately been pushing away from her mind came to the surface again; taunting, teasing. And as that one last feeble attempt of her's came to push it away, Lilliana felt it then like she hadn't felt it the past two weeks. The cold, the dark. Her shield had cut off not only the explosion from her and the merchant, but shielded her from the entire shroud that'd been slowly covering the city. It hit her full blast now, and the strength of it was enough to make her physically shiver. Panic began to climb up her spine now, though not the kind that came with thoughts of self preservation, oh no. It was the kind that came with love, the kind that came with family and friends... Brishen, Niamh, the baby.

Angel, Mira, Chase, Tag, Lirssa, Fen, Lucien, Neko... The list just didn't seem to end, in fact, her list spanned a great length of the city if she ever truly sought to put it to paper. The gypsy had befriended and touched many a soul since she'd breezed into the realm, and the thought of them ending up like the merchant, or their homes like his shop. No. That wasn't even the worst of it. The worst of it was Lilliana knew what Travanix could do, what he would do; she knew details of the mad man's mind that would scar and strike nightmares into even the strongest of men. Though she'd since purged the bulk of his poisonous influence long ago when she sought a cleansing through goddess and country, there were simply some things that could not be unseen, some thoughts that could never be purged.

"... I have t'ge' them ou'. He's t'akin' the cit'y." Her stroke of genius came in the same moment her fist closed around the chain that dangled about her neck. The timing chose to be a thing of ironic precision then, because just as Lilliana began to pull the gold key from it's warm, secure hiding place below the line of her bodice, a small contingent of those men in their gleaming armor were pouring out from a nearby alley. Turning to the ruined merchant's building, she found the door and it's artful stone frame were still intact... With a slip of that key and a quick series of steps, the witch was gone.

One in the front line of those troops nudged the man at his side and motioned towards the freestanding door, swearing he saw it close just now. Through the dead, reflective gleam of the other soldier's black visor, the troop who'd spoke up recognized his stare too late; he got a weapon butt to the side of his helmet and a harsh, corrective bark.


http://i1013.photobucket.com/albums/af255/fellea/RDI%20Thingys/you_have_the_key__by_psychohel-d30gxio.jpg

OOC Note: This is the beginning of a small 'oppositions and rescue' thread I'll be holding open for people who have characters they'd like to see away from all the chaos of the attack on Rhydin from Travanix's Scarred SL. Drop me a PM or hit me up on AIM if this is something you'd be interested in. The basic idea is Lilliana will be popping in through people's doors via her magic key. This key is magic because, well, it opens all doors, locked or no, to every and anywhere she do desires. If your character is considered a friend to my gypsy witch, I'm sure she'll be coming a'knockin' to their place of residence soon enough to check on them and make sure they don't need or want an evac. This thread is for that, or those trying to disrupt her 'evac' plan. :)

CherubicMagic

Date: 2010-10-14 19:29 EST
Despite the short distance of travel, the panic in Lilliana's throat was thick; it had her panting by the time she reached her brother's door. Trying for some kind of composure, she tried to tidy up the tumbleweed her hair had become before knocking.

Niamh had been standing by the window, her head cocked to one side as she Listened to the wind, distressed by what she was hearing, Screams of fear and pain, explosions, weaponry, and the louder, more frightening sounds of heavy artillery from somewhere above them. Something terrible was happening in the city. The knocking shocked her out of her magical trance, and she winced, gasping as she covered her ears against the louder sound so close to home.

Brishen was, to say the least, blissfully unaware of anything wrong. Niamh's behavior had sparked a bit of concern but she had shrugged off his attempts at getting anything out of her a few times, thus he decided to leave her be until she was in a more talkative mood. The knock on his door made him blink up from where he sat on the couch watching Niamh, his head canting at her curious reaction. Standing, Brishen rounded the comfortable furniture to answer the door.

The buxom's lack of patience got the better of her, so unfortunately before her brother reached the door she was opening it. The air behind her was distorted and viscous; she'd been traveling by key again, it seemed. Urgency was written all over her expression despite her best effort to maintain that air of calm. "H-hey ya' brother..." Her voice trailed as she gave her howdy-do's, up on her toes in an instant as she peeked around him, is if checking who was home. Nervous much?

"Ye get mugged or summat?" He asked, leaning back to allow her a plenty good view into the small dwelling. He then stepped back, gesturing vaguely with an arm. "Come in, what's got ye all out o' sorts?"

Clearing out her ringing ears with her little finger, Niamh turned as Brishen opened the door, moving to join him with a smile for Lilli. A smile that faded rather quickly when she saw the state of her sister-witch. "Lilli, what's wrong?" she asked, her frown rather more concerned than it might usually be. "What's happenin' up at th' city?"

"Ya' didn' hear i'?!" Panic set back in at her brother's nonchalance; how could anyone be calm? How could the whole realm not have their hackles on the rise? "There was... There's. Somethin's wrong. I's no' safe-" Her lips snapped shut at the sound of Niamh's voice. Lilliana already knew her friend, heavy with child or no, wouldn't be too pleased with the plan. But she had to be, everyone had to be, there was simply no other way.

"A lo'..." She conceded after that short, uncomfortable space of silence.

Niamh?s frown, if anything, deepened on hearing the lack of explanation. "Ye come on in an' sit down," She ordered, grasping Lilli by the sleeve and tugging. "I'll fetch y' a cup o' tea, an' ye can tell us, slow-like, what's happenin'."

Brishen meanwhile closed the door after Niamh had tugged Lilli away from it. Turning, Brishen stepped toward the archway that served as entrance into the kitchen. "I'll get it, y'two go an' sit."

"No t'ea, no t'ime." Lilliana shook her head as she extended her hands towards them both, pleading. The load had to be dropped, there was no other way to explain except to start with one word, one name. "Travanix... Travanix is back."

"And?" Brishen seemed hardly worried. Bad guys had a knack for coming back here and there, but rarely struck the same place twice. Like lightning. Niamh's face, however, went suddenly blank. There was no expression there at all; a careful calculation so as not to alarm Lilli any further. Her hands, however, clenched into fists, white-knuckled at her sides.

"What's he doing?" she asked in a low tone, as monotone as she could manage. The last time Travanix had been around, Lilli had disappeared for months on end to recover. And given how close her time was, Niamh needed Lilli around for at least another month.

"We need t'ge' away from the cit'y... An' quickly." Lilliana wouldn't tell them about the merchant, she wouldn't tell them about the mechanical fire that'd rained from the sky? She couldn?t. "There are soldiers, people have died already, don' ya' feel tha' creep tha's t'aken the st'ree's? I's dark, i's cold... He's go' his hand e'erywhere, an' the fis' is closin'." Shaking her head, she frowned towards Niamh, her eyes imploring. "I don' know wha' he's doin', no' exact'ly, bu'... I don' t'rus' i', this isn' like b'fore."

"Lilli, we can' leave, no' when there're folks who'll be needin' help," came the instant, and predictable, reply. "M' nae goin' tae abandon this place jus' b'cause some idiots've started a war. There's heroes a-plenty in Rhy'Din; it'll be o'er b'fore it really starts."

"It is sorta like outa a fairy tale, ye know." Brishen pointed out, disturbed, but not entirely worried, either. "I mean, we gots dragons an' the like all o'er the glen here an' all manners o' able folk in the city who can hold off this sorta thing."

"No! Ya' don' underst'and... No' even the ones helpin' him really know. Bu' I do, I do! I remember." Lilliana pressed, her voice hardening the more she spoke. Jabbing a finger at her skull, the witch continued. "He won' figh' the heros, he won' att'ack ou'righ'. He st'rikes a' wha' ya' hold deares', he grabs ya' by the hear' ya' didn' even think ya' had... He t'akes yer mind an' swims around like a fish in the sea. Ya' don'..." She shook her head again, teeth grinding. "Ya' don' know."

"Yer thinkin' he's after ye, are ye nae, Lilli?" Niamh asked sharply, one brow rising even as she frowned at the uncommon display of hard frustration from her friend and sister. "That he'll strike at us? We kin take care o' ourselves ..." Her eyes narrowed as she felt the edges of the reason why Lilli was here. "I dinnae need cartin' off tae safety like I was some helpless wee bairn, Lilliana McClae!" Of course, Niamh hadn't chosen the best phrasing. Immediately, Brishen turned to look down at her belly and mentally chewed on his lip. Lilliana had a wee bit of sense in her from time to time, and he was already suspecting this might have been one of those rare moments. "What are ye suggestin' we do, Lilli? E'en if we were tae go, where could we that'd be safe enough?"

"A fire st'rike crashed down on the marke'!" She hissed angrily, arms over her head before she whipped them to the window. "Ya' small the smoke, I don' know how ya' couldn' hear the explosions or feel the ground shakin'! He's no' aft'er me, bu' I don' wan' t'give him the chance t'be either.. Don' be thick. There's no shame in goin' t'ground an' rallyin' o'ers t'do the same." Jabbing the air before Niamh's belly, she shot a look to her brother, and found him contemplating the same. She had an answer for his question of course, it was obvious. She'd thought of it the moment she'd first picked up her key to get to them. "Zayveon's manor ou' in the south... I's even farther than moun' Yasou, all buried in ice an' snow."

Never mind that she was being scolded, yet again, Niamh caught on to the one thing Lilli shouldn't have mentioned to her. "Th' market?" she repeated in a quiet voice. Grey eyes lifted, wide and worried, to Brishen. "Th' old man ... he was workin' th' shop t'day ... he was on his own!" She turned, reaching to grab her cardigan and whirl back toward the door. The fullness of her pregnant belly was forgotten in the sudden panic over the old man who had taken her in and looked after her almost from the day she had arrived in Rhy'Din. "We havetae help 'em ..."

"Niamh! Wait!" Brishen yelped.

"Goddess damn yer brain! Ge' BACK here, ya' damn fool... How do ya' think I plan t'ge' ya' anywhere?" Lilliana roared at Niamh as Brishen?s arm shot out to block Niamh?s path toward the door. Molten eyes blazed as the gypsy witch fisted the key around her neck, and her brother put a hand up to grip his panicked wife?s shoulder and wheel her back around toward his sister. "If what Lilli's said is true, ye cannae go out intae the city, ye cannae help 'im."

"We cannae jus' leave 'im, Brish, please!" Niamh's eyes pleaded with her husband to help and not hinder; she even turned that expression onto Lilli. "How kin I help anyone if'n m'sent away like a thief in th' night, tae hide away an' nae help? M'pregnant, nae dyin'. Life goes on an' people get by, what makes this any diff'rent?" There were growing tears of frustration in her eyes, simply because she knew that at any moment, one of them was going to pull out the one argument she could not answer.

"I'll go ge' him, we can rebuild the damn shop if somethin' happens t' i'! I won' see another st'upid merchan' burn' t'a crisp 'cause o' their goods!" Lilliana added quickly while Brishen nodded at Niamh.

"Let Lilli use 'er key thing." He said quickly, nodding to his sister. "It's faster an' safer, but ye're nae goin'. It's too dangerous for the two o' ye. If ye're goin' anywhere it's tae Z'ev's place."

"M'nae goin' anywhere wi'out ye, Brishen Garridan, sae ye kin trim yer wick right now!" Niamh growled out at her husband, small fists settling on her hips as she frowned at Brishen.

"?An? I won' see ya' runnin' around w' yer hero shoes on when yer responsible for the babe there in yer belly, Ni. I'm no' sayin' tha' t'be unfair, b'lieve me, I know another I'm goin' t'have t'say i' t'oo t'ge' her t'come." Reeling in fire that'd licked out and fueled her temper, Lilliana released a long, tempered sigh as she began to slip the key from around her neck. Her eyes touched down on it before she smiled and looked to her brother. "Should have st'art'ed by askin' her t' t'ake care o' the o'ers I planned on fet'chin', eh? Zayveon's a healer, yeah, an' his manor ou' there is buil' fer his draconian kin, no' humans, bu'... He can' do i' by himself." Her eyes turned back to Niamh then as she chuckled. "Ya' wouldn' be bound t' a chair, nor alone. T'oo much work t'be done there."

Niamh held that frown for a long moment before Lilli's words sank in. She turned slowly to look at her sister-witch. "Yer takin' others there, tae?" she queried. "Folks who'll need helpin'?"

"I'm no' a shu' in, I've go' friends, ya' daf' lass... An' I know o' a' leas' one tha's only a few months away from deliverin' herself." Lilliana drawled slowly as she pointed towards the window where the city's glow was but a distant flicker above the dark, crispy tree line. "Tha' cit'y's full o' people tha' would rather be somewhere safe t'wat'ch their loved ones tha' can' righ'tly defend themselves. An' no' only all tha', bu' Zayveon's a figure o' prot'ect'ion fer some. Where do ya' think some o' those panicked souls are goin' t'go?" Biting her cheek, she added. "Tha' an' I jus' don' feel comfort'able bein' on the fron' line this t'ime. No' when i's him... No' Travanix."

Brishen actually rolled his eyes once his sister was done. "An? what? Ye think I was gonna send ye off so's I could stay here all by me lonesome, Niamh? M' nae a fighter, love, I can barely find m' way home some days."

"Ain' tha' the t'ruth..." Lilliana mumbled quietly.

"Shut yer hole, woman." The younger Garridan shot back.

"St'ick yer fis' in i' an' see wha' happens, st'ring bean!"

"Can't ye be serious for once?" He roared.

The expression in Niamh's eyes showed that she was, at least, considering the option given to her, barely flickering a smile at the banter between brother and sister. Her eyes turned to the Glen outside the window, staring in the direction of the city. She could see and smell the smoke now, and didn't need to Listen to know that the fighting still went on. Beneath her hand, the babe moved in her belly, and the battle was lost. She sighed softly, turning her eyes back to Lilli and Brishen. "When'd we leave?"

Squinting angrily at her younger, taller sibling, the gypsy witch ground her reply slowly. "I wouldn' be here if I couldn' be serious...Oh?" Hearing Niamh through the thick her abd Brishen had woven between them, Lilliana blinked, her expression breaking back to neutral. "Ah, now... well, as soon as ya' go' wha' ya' needed t'ge' an' we warded the house over again. Even if someone broke int' i', we could fix i', ya' know we could." She said softly.

Chewing on her lower lip, Niamh kept her eyes turned away from her husband and his sister. She didn't want them to see the upset that had risen in her at the thought of leaving. "I know," she agreed with Lilli, just as softly. "S'hard tae leave a home. An' tae think that our bairn may ne'er see the wee house it should've been born an' raised in." She shook her head, laughing bitterly. "Sae silly, tae fear fer material thin's when lives're bein' lost."

"Come on." He said, hoping to get her mind off of what might be lost by nudging her lightly toward the bedroom. "Best start gettin' what we need all t'gether real quick like so we can leave, no point in lingerin'. The house'll be here when we get back."

"He's go' a poin' lovely... Ya' know tha'. B'sides, go' t'have tha' gypsy spiri' fer a long t'ime b'fore ya' can jus' up an' leave a home w' ou' a second eye ba'." Her face split into a grin before she could help it, and while it didn't have it's normal luster, it was the first smile she'd given them since she burst in the door. The fleeting thought of how rare smiles would be until the whole mess was over triggered a latent 'oh remember' moment in the gypsy's head, however. "Ah!" Giving her forehead a smack, Lilliana laughed as she looked to Niamh once more. "Forgo' t'ment'ion tha' Zayveon's daught'ers will be there t'oo... Goddess damn the world an' how young that'll make ya' feel!"

Niamh nodded slowly, letting out a slow breath with just the barest hint of a smile for Lilli's reassurance and encouragement, and moved with Brishen's nudging toward the bedroom. In her mind, the list was already made - they could live without the luxuries of life. Clothing, the smallest of their personal effects, the barest of what they had gathered for the baby ... Silently, she moved about the bedroom, packing what amounted to a backpack for herself and filling the Moses basket with what would be needed for the baby when it came. "I ne'er was much o' a wanderer," she admitted, finally managing a decent smile for the pair with her. "But I kin bind an' tend wounds wi' th' best o' 'em."

Brishen had grabbed his jacket from where it hung by the door and shrugged into it, nodding quietly as though reassuring himself. "How old are they?" He asked curiously, mostly to try and push the conversation away from the grim news.

" 'Bou' m' age... Though I couldn' t'ell ya' jus' how old tha' makes'm. They've go' their father's blood in'em, an' i' looks like he's always had a t'ast'e fer exot'ic women. No' a homely thing among'm!" Another little bit, if anything, to get Niamh eager for the trip. Brishen and five lovely young ladies about? Oh dear.

Wrapping her shawl about herself, Niamh lifted her bag onto her shoulder and took the basket up off the floor. Her smile had a little of its usual impishness as she turned a raised brow onto Lilli. "Y' tired o' me already?" she accused lightly. "Tryin' tae pass yer brother off ontae yer lover's daughters tae get rid o' me?"

Deciding to extricate himself from the conversation, Brishen walked down the hall to hastily pack his own small bag of clothes and personal effects.

"Jus' t'ryin' t'ge' me some more lil' nieces an' nephews an' keep the good blood goin'." She remarked slyly as she sent her rotund, dark haired sister a wink.

"Ach, this 'un's nae e'en out o' th' womb yet," Niamh protested, pushing aside the horror and sadness to laugh a little at Lilli's teasing. "Dinnae be wishin' any more on me 'til we know m'nae goin' tae kill th' first!"

"If he's anythin' like 'is mother, one will be plenty tae deal with." He called back from the bedroom as he shrugged a bag over his shoulder.

"He? Y'know summat I don', Silver-Tongue?" Niamh called back, flashing Lilli a smile and a wink.

"Either one o' ya' is enough, so I'd say no matt'er who i' t'urns ou' like i's bound t'be a handful." Chuckling, Lilliana moved towards the kitchen, peeking about NIamh's various jars and canisters of tea. The earlier mention had her thinking it'd be best to bring one of their prefered brews, if only to give her a little more of a taste of the familiar while she was away.

"He, she," he shrugged as he stepped back into the room with the other two. "He's just the first thing that comes tae mind. We been o'er this."

In the main room, Niamh had paused by the end of the couch as Lilli slipped into the kitchen. Her eyes fell on her sewing box and knitting basket. They weren't essential to her survival; she had no excuse to take them with her. Pulling her hand back from where she had almost reached to touch them, she turned and offered Brishen a weak grin. "Aye, but it shows what yer hopin' fer."

"Doesnae." Brishen waved at Niamh dismissively as he reached down to grab the sewing box and the basket from the floor, turning toward the kitchen. "What're ye doin'? Quit tryin' tae steal our food!"

Turning back with a few of the more frequented looking tea containers in hand, Lilliana stuck her tongue out at her brother as she shook them out away from her body, taunting him. "Loon! I'm bringin' the t'ea tha' makes yer wife happy, shu' yer yap..." Her voice trailed as she watched Niamh's lingering look towards the sewing supplies, the body language said enough, and although her sister's expression was sad, the witch found herself laughing. "Wha's tha' look fer Ni'? Ya' look like yer ma' said ya' couldn' bring dolly t' yer visi' away from home t'grammie's. Didn' ya' hear me when I said Zayveon's home is mean' fer draconian kind? I'm sure there's room fer yer needles an' anything else ya' can think of t'bring. If ya' forge' somethin', i's as easy as gett'in' m'key an' comin' t'fet'ch i'."

The fact that her look had been noted was enough, but that those well-loved things were being brought without her even having to mention them made Niamh's smile infinitely merrier. She paused to brush a soft, grateful kiss to Brishen's cheek as Lilli spoke. "I know, I know," she shrugged. "I dinnae like th' thought o' havin' tae come back an' findin' th' place in ruins, though. M' jus' nae a gypsy at heart, an' ye both know it."

"Bah, such is war... Would ya' rather have i' be Brishen or mine's body than yer prett'y fire mant'el?" Though the words were a bit cold, it was clear from her tone that Lilliana was teasing.

"Th' way th' pair o' ye bully me about, d'ye really want th' answer tae that question?" came Niamh's sharp, but just as teasing reply.

"Uh huh... Tha's i', I'm no' t'ellin' m'lover t'show ya' where the ho' springs are. See wha' bein' cruel get's ya'?" One of those 'oh-ho-ho-ho' rises stole through her voice.

"I know she'd leave me for dead b'fore she gave up our sheets." Brishen replied absently, scratching his jaw.

"S'only b'cause yer a blanket hog," Niamh bantered back to Brishen with a soft laugh, nudging her hip to his cheekily. "An' as fer yer hot sprin's, Missy Lilli, why'd I want tae take a bath somewhere ye've been strippin' down wi' yer dragon man?"

Shuddering, he quickly shook his head. "Let's get a move on people, enough talk!"

Shaking her head, the gypsy witch threw up her arms, key dangling from her fingers as she gave another short laugh. "All righ', all righ'. More quest'ions an' answers back a' Zayveon's... Guess tha' means I'll have t'show ya' around t'oo, damn fools."

"Only if'n ye dinnae want a couple o' escape artists runnin' around," Niamh chuckled, stepping up behind Lilli. She swallowed, looking around once more. "Let's get on wi' it, b'fore I change m'mind again."

"I dun' need any showin' around. I got a sense o' direction unlike any ye' seen b'fore."

"Says th' man who cannae find his way home some nights."

The friendly bickering continued well on the trio?s way through the house, and further still on their short journey to Zayveon?s massive southern home. And truly? All the noise? Lilliana wouldn?t have it any other way, in fact, the witch saw it as a sure fire sign that perhaps this new war wouldn?t be as bad as she thought. This time? This time she was ready, her eyes were unclouded, her path was clear, and her resources were much stronger than before.

Silently, as she closed the door behind her and her family, the molten eyed witch vowed she would do all she could to keep herself, as well as others, from the destructive grasp of Lord Travanix. Her brow wilted from it?s serious, stern line as she felt that first warm, familiar rush of Zayveon?s power sweep over them.


OOC Note: Many thanks to Niamh and Brishen's players for this lovely bit of live play. <3

CherubicMagic

Date: 2010-10-23 18:26 EST
Taking up a position alongside the Red Dragon Inn's ever growing staff seemed a wise decision to the gypsy witch considering her latest plan of action, for where better a neutral hub could she find within the city's chaos in which to appear and disappear between her travels? The key was to evacuate those that needed it without alerting the random waves of soldiers and, more importantly, those most wouldn't notice; the quite ones that had been influenced and cruelly recruited by Travanix himself... Ever watchful, it wasn't long before she saw someone who looked abnormally wretched and paler than pale, a friend of Angel's and his people; Melinda Larin. She was limping heavily, her eyes all bleary and all but floating in the opium rich smoke that curled around her lips and perfumed her violet hair. Something had happened, but not a once had the tall, tall woman once mentioned to the gypsy what exactly had happened to her. Still, she was on the clock, so between drinks and chattering back and forth with Elessaria, her trainer and partner in crime for the night, Lilliana could only keep tabs on Melinda in snatches.

The Inn had filled up so quickly that it was hard to notice that even someone of Melinda's size had disappeared if one weren't paying attention. Feeling a bit more than concerned, Lilliana excused herself after she managed some quick goodbyes to the patrons at the bar, donned her short cloak, her scarf, and set out through the door after her violet eyed acquaintance. Something about the way she'd been drooping ticked all the wrong alarms in her head, and given the situation with the city as of late, as well as her own little underground safety operation, that was all the witch needed. Molten eyes poured their warmth across the streets as the witch tried to get her bearings. Tiptoeing up, hands about the fringe of her scarf, she searched through the thin, nighttime crowd for that familiar head of dark hair.

Lilli would not have much difficulty finding her. Melinda was slowed by both intoxication and injury despite the aid of Kethel and the gypsy's healing efforts. A small empty cylinder dropped along the way was evidence of her path; the spent cartridge lie not a hundred meters from the Inn, along the main road that led to the eastern bridge. Halfway across she leaned over the railing, staring into the river, smoke trailing from her lips in silence.

Even though her trek along the road from the front of the Inn, was a short one, Lilliana saw signs of Travanix's influence everywhere. It wasn't hard once someone knew what to look for, especially one with an inside glimpse of the mad man's dark, twisted mind. Shivering, the gypsy paused at the sound of glass scuffling across the stony ground. Looking down, it wasn't long before she was stooping to inspect the little cylinder, then looked back up, squinting further still until her gaze reached the dim halo around the bridge. Melinda's silhouette was unmistakable. Shifting back up to a stand, her boots weren't long in picking the quickest path to that slumped, lone figure. Slowing as she neared, the gypsy cleared her throat quietly, letting it temper down to that amiable husk most people recognized instantly. "... now wha' kind o' friend is tha' w' ou' a proper goodbye?" She teased gently.

Distant, dazed eyes slid toward the familiar form the moment she'd set foot on the bridge; there was no mistaking this one. "I did say thank you..." Her voice was weak, just as it had been when she'd departed. "...but then again, the reason I left was the noise." Unfortunately, even the sound of the river could not drown out that of the chaos throughout the city, rendering her search for solace quite fruitless. With a sigh, she gestured out toward nothing in particular. "Angel was right. This place is becoming one of the nine..."

Angel... So they were known to one another after all. Lilli's thought was a passing one, but in the same instance, one that warmed the gypsy despite the circumstances it'd come from. Shaking her head slowly, she felt her smile forming long before it ever showed. It was a reflex for her, however slight; one could never say they saw Lilliana with anything but a sweet curve to her expression, even in the most grave of times. "I won' even pret'end t'know wha' the nine is, unless yer t'alkin' the hells." Though she slowed, the gypsy had never quite stopped moving, not until she was directly beside Melinda, and she had a hand hovering near her crooked posture against the railing. "Ya' look bea' up swee'lin', i' don' t'ake a genius t'figure tha', why don' ya' le' me see ya' somewhere familiar an' quie'?"

"The hells indeed," Melinda nodded. "I..." Her head sank as she tried to gather her thoughts. "Angel sent a priority one distress call... but... I don't know what to do." Flicking the cigarette out into the distance, she sighed, frustrated. "I don't know what I can do. He told me things had gone crazy here but I never expected this. We had to run a blockade to get back... the ship's a mess... I'm a mess..." Finally, she raised her eyes back to Lilli's. "Familiar... quiet... if you have such a place, by all means. I... do not."

"Ya' don'?" Was it odd that the gypsy seemed surprised at Melinda's last bit of news and not the first grand, terrible bits? Given the state of the city and how unimaginably fast it happened, not really. Recovering the little lines of shock that'd taken over her face, Lilliana found her smile returning as she slowly pulled a small, wrought gold key from the warm cleft of her cleavage beneath the drape of her cloak. "Aye... I jus' migh'. An' I'll do ya' one bett'er t'oo, I'll give a word t'Zayveon if i's supplies or a place t'harbor yer ship ya' be needin'." The hand Lilliana had been keeping near Melinda moved closer, as if she meant to curl it around the taller woman's back and lead her away. Each motion was slow and patient, as was the tone in her accented voice.

Violet eyes followed that key, although they slipped down more than once to where she'd produced it from. "I would greatly appreciate it. It seems every one of us will need all the help we can get... especially if Angel was right... I've not seen Victor yet, but if he is truly a part of this..." This time it was easy to bring her gaze upward, and as glazed and unsteady as it was, there was a severity beyond measure. "...Mithril save us all."

"Wai'... Ya' mean. No." Looking a great degree more concerned, brows furrowed and all, Lilliana shook her head as she turned and gestured towards the nearest building; a little shoe repair shop. It's door was mostly glass with a large series of windows flanking either side. All of the glass was papered up, both the door and the windows, and where they weren't, wooden blinds had been drawn down with not even the tiniest creak to peek through; another distressing sign in itself. The shop seemed closed indefinitely, reminding her of what'd happened earlier in the week on the other side of the markets... The explosion, the fires, the rank stench of burning hair and flesh. Clucking her tongue slowly at the site, she sighed. "I've been herdin' people since the firs' explosions happened... T'ravanix is no' a man I plan on meet'in' again anyt'ime soon, an' if I can, I don' mean t'le' anyone mee' him fer a firs' t'ime either." Tapping the key to her temple once, she moved it down, readying it for the dark, unlit shop's door as they neared.

"Travanix..." The name was one she'd heard, but it had no meaning to her. "That's the man behind this?" Tensing, eyes narrowing slightly, Melinda now made sure to commit the name to memory. "You know him?" Her steps were slow, but her limp was less pronounced than it had been when she first arrived at the Red Dragon. "Is he capable of... controlling someone?" As she considered the possibility, her face screwed up into a mask of dismay. "...even a seraph?"

"For that matter... have you seen Angel? His home was empty. Has he taken refuge somewhere with Cerre?"

"Didn' e'er wan' t'know him, bu' I do..." Tucking a bit of her curls back behind an ear as they stopped before the door, Lilliana turned up to her companion with a tired look. "He's capable of quit'e a lo' more than ya' migh' think... He's a slaver, a madman. No' even good enough t'call a monst'er." Smiling sadly, Lilliana felt her throat tighten with each word. The man had left a mark no matter how deeply she cleansed. Lying her hand and the key against the firm, cool wood of the door, she gave a quick peek about, as if she expected unwanted eyes or a lurking presence.

"Angel is safe. He has returned home with Cerre." A soft, familiar voice came from behind, as the miniature form of Iris shed a runic web of invisibilty. "...and yes. Victor has been compromised... somehow. I do not know what this Travanix is using to control him, but due to their psychic link, Anyanka has succumbed to it as well." Her tone was grave, and tired. Very tired. "There are others as well. Patrols roam the city, under the command of several very powerful leaders... Victor being one of them."

Melinda was startled by the sudden arrival, but jarred more still by the dragon's words. "Mithril's blade..."

For a moment there, Lilliana's throat had gone from thick and tight to swollen with what she could only describe as her heart. "Goddess an' hells b'low don' DO tha' when the cit'y's in the condit'ion i's in!" Her tone was more a squeak and harsh whisper than anything; a scream, she'd decided in her moment of terror, would no doubt alert the wrong kind of attention. As she began to realize whom had spoken, though, the gypsy breathed a sigh of relief and managed some of her previous, even-toned voice. "... either way, news or no news, I'd planned on visit'in' Angel an' tha' woman o' his in due t'ime. M'sis is pregnan' an' wouldn' mind the cooped up company a' Zayveon's manor ou' in the south." Snorting quietly, she found herself chuckling as she added aside to Melinda. "Don' worry, I'm no' t'akin' ya' there either, tha's nowhere near quie'."

Her face was a deathmask. "Victor... he's..." Defiantly staring the dragoness down, Melinda refused to believe it. "No... he wouldn't... he would never..." but Iris cut her off with a sad shake of her head. Absently, her slow steps still followed Lilli, keeping close, as Kethel had detected a hint of magic brewing. That magic Kethel felt grew stronger with each passing second, the very air around them growing a tad warmer with each step.

Iris followed, shaking her head slowly as she spoke. "He is under that man's control, and he currently holds the market sector. The Mithrilworks has become his command center, and hundreds of Travanix's troops report to him there. I have been watching for quite some time." Her head turned to Lilli then, with an apologetic gaze. "You said... you were 'herding' people? I must apologize, I have been listening for some time. I had to ensure you too were not one of them. I had to protect Melinda."

The gypsy was gathering her thoughts back, and quite a lot of them had a clear direction or two in mind. "I' will all be righ' again, don' worry yerself like tha'. Caugh' or no' in wha'ev'er web T'ravanix has woven, the cit'y's t'oo filled w' folk t' e'er t'ruly be t'aken." Lilliana told them both sternly as she turned back to the door, key and it's dainty chain in hand as she steadied her fingers. When had they started shaking? She couldn't say. But once she realized what they were doing, the gypsy curled them inwards as she set the key into the lock with a firm thrust and a quick, purposeful turn. The firm jerk in her motions weren't from what Iris said either, oh no, in fact, she found herself respecting the dragoness more for not counting her out as an enemy. Trusting no one was the key at times; she let it show in the weight of her shoulders as they slumped slightly.

"... an' yeah. I am herdin' a folk where I find them scared an' needin' the respit'e." She added slowly as she finally tugged the door open. There was no holding or hiding the magic anymore, it stood before them all, framed by nothing but the simple wooden framework of the music shoppe.

Both stared into the portal for a moment, but did not enter just yet. "You've established a refuge? If so, there is a favor I would ask of you." Iris settled down lightly on Lilli's shoulder as she spoke. "While I wish Angel would join her, I know he will refuse, and his power has grown such that I can no longer compel him. Would you take Cerre with you?" She fluttered her wings slightly, with a small sigh. "I admit I was appalled when I discovered that she carries his child... but ...he adores her, and... she truly carries the future of an entire world. She must be protected, and that is something I cannot do. I must find a way to save Victor..." she then begrudgingly added, "...and Anyanka... from whatever has turned them."

Melinda simply stared at the portal in silence, shaken to the very core. After a moment, she found her resolve and turned to Iris. "I will help you."

Their odd looks barely phased her, she was quite used to the key's magic herself after all, not to mention people's questioning expressions when they first encountered it themselves. Reaching up, Lilliana stroked along Iris' outside flank with all the familiarity in the world. Her fingers continued up and played along the dragoness's neck near the underside of her jaw as she replied. "Aye... Tha's no' a problem. S'wha' I mean' by checkin' in on them. This lil' bi' here was a gif' from Zayveon tha's come in fairly handy e'er since the day he gave i' t'me..." The latter part of her reply was said a bit slower as she heard Melinda's spine re-strengthen itself. "No' t'nigh' ya' won' be! Yer gett'in' some res', ya' damn fool!" That tone of 'no ifs, ands, or buts' rang quite clearly in the gypsy's voice as she turned her narrowing eyes towards the much taller woman.

Before she could open her mouth to protest, Melinda was once again silenced by Iris. "Melinda. You are hurt, and you are wrecked. Rest, heal, and please... put down the needle. You cannot help me in this state... and you could very likely get yourself killed." Her tone was compassionate, but echoed Lilliana's in that she would harbor no argument. A light flutter of her wings carried her up from the gypsy's shoulder. "You could use the rest too, Lilli... as could I. I will return to Angel and Cerre, and in the morning we will contact you. Take these." In each claw she produced a small azure orb, slightly larger than a marble, and handed one to each of them.

"With these we can speak over any distance, even through shields. Melinda, you in particular will need it if we are to coordinate our efforts." A slight nuzzle of her scaly head pressed against Lilli's cheek before she turned in the air toward Angel's home to the south. "...and thank you. This means a great deal to us all."

"Aye, aye... Been under tha' man's thumb b'fore. I know wha' i's like. I know wha' i' means." Her reply was soft as she pocketed the small orb without the merest question or inspection; that could come later. Glad that Iris was backing her on her little attack on their tall companion, the gypsy crooked her finger as that slow, cheshire sweet smile began to creep across her lips again. "C'mon now... Ya' will find no quiet'er place, I promise. Jus' le' me see ya' in an' I'll leave ya' be if tha's wha' ya' wish." Looking to Iris one last time, she motioned off slowly with her chin. "Be careful, hm?"

"I will. Be safe, both of you." With that, the dragoness wrapped herself once more in the cloak of runes and vanished.

Melinda's head sank sadly. "Victor... Anya..." Something inside her wanted to rush to them, but she knew she was in no shape to do so. "...f*ck..." A hand roughly dragged back the hair that had fallen over her face, and it was then she realized how truly exhausted she was. Kethel was the only thing keeping her standing.

"Well tha's impressive. Can' say I've t'ried i' though." Lilliana smirked, her approval of Iris' method of departure. Melinda's lingering angst drew her back to the here and now, however, and made the smirk melt into something a bit more comforting. "C'mon swee' pea. Don' make me ask again, hm? I'll t'ake care o' ya' t'nigh' if tha's wha' ya' need. The household won' miss me, bu'... i' looks like ya' would." Adopting those slow motions again once the key was safely back around her neck, the gypsy moved to creep an arm around Melinda's back; her means and their direction were clear, though she felt like adding one more little piece that might entice the tired woman. "Ain' no soft'er bed either, I promise... an' if i' can hold m' fa' arse, i' can cert'ainly hold ya' w' ou' a squeak."

The touch itself was enough; Melinda practically melted, Kethel retracting from her back and midriff, leaving only the plated covering over her spine. It was a reflexive act of the symbiant, one that Melinda herself was not aware of until she felt the touch of skin. Still, she did not protest. "Thank you, Lilli..." Her voice was a tired mumble as she let herself be guided through the portal.

http://i1013.photobucket.com/albums/af255/fellea/RDI%20Thingys/Exper_Shoe_Rebuilding_by_yankeedog.jpg

OOC Note: Many thanks to those that made this little bit of play possible! :D