The stress level among Denver's Awakened population had been notably high of late - and little wonder. If Justin had known just how bad things had gotten, he would have been right there along with them. He knew enough though. Enough to make him more than a little paranoid whenever he went out into the city. Enough that he'd been spending the past few weeks hunting for danger that seemed rather disinterested in being found.
He didn't know that others had already found it. He didn't know that the reason he hadn't found a trace of the missing girl was because she'd been taken into the woods for safekeeping. More than likely the couple of people who had his number thought it best to spare him the danger and the anxiety when there wasn't much he could have done to help. No more than the rest of them, anyway.
But that didn't stop him from worrying. And worry without a proper outlet was a useless feeling. Today it had driven him, as it often did, to seek refuge from his wired nerves in Red Rocks park. Having long-since adjusted to the new elevation, he'd made a habit of coming out here to hike or climb once or twice a week. Tonight it was the former. The narrow, dusty Trading Post Trail took him along a winding pathway of beautiful stone formations and rough Colorado scrub-land. At one point earlier he'd paused to scale one of those large formations in order to get a better look at the landscape around him.
A couple of women had passed by beneath and asked if he'd be alright getting down. They were the only faces he'd seen in the past fifteen minutes. Now he was coming to an area that opened up at a fork in the trail. There was a massive boulder perched on the side of the hill before him and he paused to take it in, red dust settling on his jeans and hiking boots. He carried a small backpack with him, the contents of which consisted of a large bottle of water, a couple of granola bars, his shirt (which he'd pulled off and stashed away about ten minutes into the hike,) and a handgun. (His knife, which he never left the house without, was in his pocket.)
Justin[Not that it matters really, but he'd have a Mind Shield up because he always does, so Mind 1 diff 4 -1 (focus)]
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (4, 9) ( success x 2 )
Justin[Extending once, +1]
Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (4, 5) ( success x 2 )
Justin[Per+Awareness]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Justin[Per+Alertness, -2 diff for Acute Senses]
Dice: 6 d10 TN4 (5, 5, 5, 6, 9, 10) ( success x 6 )
TwilightDex + Stealth
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8) ( success x 2 )
Justin[Ack, I forgot to roll Nightmares]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 3, 6, 10) ( success x 2 )
TwilightJustin's observant and alert. His senses are sharper and more sure. He can smell the sun on the rocks; the cucumber melon lotion and sweat of the women who walked by his perch, high on some outcropping, and asked him if he could make it down again on his own, lingering in the air when he does clamber back down. He can hear the faint susseration of the wind through the scrub, the scrabble of some tiny clawed thing among the rocks; the distant call of a hawk he see, riding a lazy thermal somewhere in the high, clear air.
He cannot see her. He cannot hear her. Is not at all aware of her until her shadow cuts across right shoulder, and her voice sounds in his left ear.
"You did take your time getting up here."
The cold flat edge of a knife at his back; just at the level of his right kidney.
"It was worth the wait, though, Justin."
She takes in his scent with a sharp inhale; he can hear the pleasure in her voice. The note of almost rose-tinted nostalgia. All summer loss, all golden glow.
"And don't worry about me. The whole time, I entertained myself by speculating about which fork you would choose."
The edge of her smile, as sharp as that knife at his back.
Justin[-1 WP to not a: throw up and b: go into shock]
JustinHe remembered her voice. Over time the details of her face had grown dark and shadowed - a malevolent phantasm to haunt his dreams. But her voice - that he remembered. The soft, slippery tone of it still whispered sometimes on the wind when the world around him grew quiet.
And he remembered the way she felt. The sadistic, feral energy. He hadn't heard her approach. He wouldn't have. He could hear a person's heartbeat on the silent air but he could not hear the movement of a ghost. Neither had he felt her powerful presence - right up until that moment when she pressed the knife to his back and spoke. Until she allowed her impenetrable cloak to drop by speaking his name. Then he felt her - when it was too late. The nauseating force of it nearly caused him to wretch, and he clamped his jaw down with enough force that it made the hinge pop.
He froze, of course. What else does one do in that situation? For one second, two... five. While she spoke. And during that time he wasn't here. He wasn't looking out at this picturesque landscape but rather at a rough, blood-soaked cement wall. For a second he felt the pain of her knife sinking into his kidney even before she had a chance to make good on her threat. Because she had before. And he remembered. His body would remember her for as long as it lived.
If she looked, she might see the faintest twitch of a muscle in his right hand.
"Why are you here?" he finally asked. And it was a shock to find his voice even worked.
TwilightWhy are you here?
Oh, his question has her laughing; laughing low and laughing bright, her tone rich with an animal sort of affection, the feral promise of some great cat embedded in the tone. Her breath is warm on his left shoulder, she's standing that close. Leaning in to him without ever touching him, except for the edge of her blade.
The heat of her body like a halo he can feel; particularly with his exquisitely sensitive senses. The fine hairs stir in his flesh, prickle upward as the sweat from his vigorous hike and the heat of the day begins to dry on his skin.
"I missed you," there's something raw there; something rich. Her nostalgia is blooded and red and raw as the torn-apart corpse of a gazelle at the feet of a lionness. "We always had something special, you and I.
"I knew I'd find you again.
"It's Fate, Justin. We were meant to be.
"You've known that from the beginning. Haven't you."
JustinHis eyelids fluttered as they fell, lowering as if to block out the sight of something that wasn't even there. Her breath on his shoulder caused an involuntary shudder that rolled up his spine and broke against the back of his neck. This time he couldn't suppress the muscle spasm that caused his head to jerk to the side.
"I don't believe in that kind of fate." But it didn't really matter whether he believed in it or not, because she was here. Five years later, she'd somehow managed to track him all the way from Boston to Denver. The logical part of his mind might make the right connection - that her presence here had nothing to do with him. That it was just a horrible fucking coincidence. But whatever was left of his logical mind was currently being drowned out by a much more powerful and much less rational fear.
That was the thing about this kind of fear. The kind that burrowed its way into your marrow. It never really let you go, no matter how much time passed.
But there was something else flooding his system right now. Something more than fear. Adrenaline. Instinct. (Fight or Flight.) And this was who he was at the deepest level. A creature of instinct - like any Verbena.
She was standing so close. There was a knife at his back. She could kill him with a single motion of her hand. (Unless he caught her by surprise.)
[Init +6]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (5) ( fail )
TwilightInit +7
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (7) ( success x 1 )
Justin[Declare: Backwards head-butt - is there a name for that? I am clearly not a fighting person.]
TwilightDeclare: Choke hold / clinch
TwilightDice: 7 d10 TN6 (4, 4, 6, 7, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 5 )
Justin[Str+Brawl]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 5, 8, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )
TwilightDamage
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (4, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 3 )
Justin[Soak!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 5, 7, 7) ( success x 2 )
TwilightShe feels him tense his shoulders, pulling forward ever so minutely in preparation for the backwards blow he intends to deliver before he has begin the movement. And she's faster tonight. Wraps her scarred arms around his neck and cinches them closed in a choke hold that brings her body forward against his and her chin sharp against his neck, just beneath the curve of his ear; just under the joint of his jaw. He tries to break free, but she's compressing his trachea hard enough that he cannot move or she'll choke the wind out of him.
"That." The single word is sharp as a blade. Her teeth are against his ear, they compress sharply on the tenderest part. "Was unwise, Justin. Just like old times."
(She's so fucking happy that he did that. He can feel that sadistic joy coiled in her body, the potentiality rapt with the potential energy of a compressed spring.)
After the bite of her teeth into his ear, the warmth of her breath is almost soothing. And her voice folds back on itself, in a quiet, nearly reflective regret.
"I will so regret turning you over to him. But the cause is the cause."
JustinHe did not catch her by surprise, but it had been a long shot and he'd known it. He'd also counted on the fact that she wasn't likely to kill him quickly - and she hadn't. (No, that wasn't her style.)
She'd senses the spring of his muscles contracting before he'd even had a chance to do what he'd intended to do - to throw back his head and strike a rough blow to her own. Instead her arm had wrenched across his neck and squeezed. The force of it bruised his throat and forced the breath from his lungs.
Justin didn't know who the man was that she spoke of. If it even was a man. Maybe it was some awful Nephandic spirit or deity. Either way, it was clearly not someone he ever wanted to meet. Her choke-hold restricted his ability to speak, so instead he just grit his teeth and dug his fingers deeper into the scarred surface of her arm, twisting his body in an attempt to break free from the hold.
[Bruised level, no modifier - Init +6]
Dice: 1 d10 TN1 (3) ( success x 1 )
Justin[Edit: Sensed the spring of his muscles]
Twilight+7
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (4) ( fail )
TwilightStr + Brawl
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 10) ( success x 6 ) Re-rolls: 1
Justin[Str+Brawl Resiiiiiiiist!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 2, 4, 6, 7) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
TwilightDamage:
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 6, 6, 9) ( success x 3 )
Justin[Soak!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (7, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 4 )
Justin[Init +6]
Dice: 1 d10 TN1 (5) ( success x 1 )
TwilightInit +7
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (6) ( success x 1 )
TwilightStr + Brawl
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 6, 8, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 5 )
Justin[Str+Brawl - this is going to be a long night]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 3, 4, 7, 9, 9) ( success x 4 ) [WP]
TwilightDamage!
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (2, 4, 10) ( success x 1 )
Justin[Soak!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 7, 7, 8) ( success x 3 )
TwilightSTR + BRAWL
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8) ( success x 2 )
Justin[Come oooon Justin!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 5, 5, 7, 9) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
TwilightThe struggle continues for some time. She has control over him but he's resisting. He's enduring and sustaining the constant pressure of her scarred arms around his neck.
She's fucking laughing through it; he can feel the hitch of her diaphragm against his bare spine, the resonance through his chest The scrape of her teeth against his ear. She's enjoying this; not just the way he tries to resist her, twists his body around in the cage of her arms, but his resilience too.
Then he breaks free and her laughter explodes from her. From any other woman it would sound bright and silvery; but somehow from her throat the bright sound is already tarnished, the sound loops around him like an oily chain.
"You don't know how much I've missed you. We're going to have so much fun."
JustinThey matched each other for a few achingly long moments, her arm crushing his throat and his own buffering the force of her hold. And then there was a great, rough motion as he finally tore himself from her grasp. She taunted him as he broke free. Laughed at him.
But he didn't say anything back. He didn't call her an unhinged psychotic bitch or snarl or spit in her face, because she would have enjoyed it, and she would have just laughed harder. Instead he jumped away from her and spun around, puling open his bag to reach for the gun.
[Init +6 I'm so going to lose this]
Dice: 1 d10 TN1 (8) ( success x 1 )
Twilight+7 go go gadget!
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (7) ( success x 1 )
Justin[again!]
Dice: 1 d10 TN1 (3) ( success x 1 )
TwilightDice: 1 d10 TN6 (8) ( success x 1 )
Justin[Declare: Split action Shooting twice]
Twilight[Declare: disarm.]
TwilightDice: 8 d10 TN7 (3, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 7, 9) ( success x 4 )
TwilightDice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 5, 6, 6, 9) ( success x 3 )
Justin[Dex+Firearms -2 for split +2 diff - hah]
Dice: 4 d10 TN8 (1, 1, 2, 9) ( success x 1 )
Justin[Damage 4 for light pistol]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (7, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )
TwilightSOAK.
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (4, 8, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )
Justin[Second Shot -3 +1 diff]
Dice: 3 d10 TN5 (6, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Justin[Damage 4 + 2 successes]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 7) ( success x 4 )
TwilightThe struggle is brief and violent. He breaks free; she's laughing - fucking joyous - and her face, without the scars, is so lovely and so wrong. Her laughter oozes like tar sands coating a pristine beach, and the gleam in her blue eyes is like some sort of wretched, reversed flame. The spiraled, burning madness.
Dust is kicked up in their struggle. He is able to pull his gun from his pack because she's just so fucking pleased to have him again. Even if she only has him for a day, for a night, for another goddamned fight. But she has her knife, and once more she moves faster than he. Instead of going for his jugular she goes for his pistol, a kick and a blow nearly dislodges it from his hand, but he holds on and turns the weapon on her.
The pain from the first bullet has her eyes bulging, another surge of sick, wild joy from her, and he can already feel her beginning to pull inward on that thread of pain to heal the wound he's caused her, can feel the first coiling of her will nascent in the air around her.
But then the pistol is steadier. And this time, the bullet catches her in the cheek and then continues downward, exploding out of the back of her skull.
Her eyes are open with shock, her mouth sags as blood comes spurting in a great torrent from her nose. Two steps back, and the knife falls from her nerveless fingers.
Three steps back, and she falls to her knees. Then face forward on the trail.
Dead.
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