>Who are you and what do you do?

The name's Justin, and we're Truckin' (a truck driver!)

>Also, where are you? Well, besides at the gas station.

We're making a pitstop and a gas station located in an out of the way small town called Leafbay

>Are you the waiting type or the go get snacks type? Maybe you’re the ‘talk to the person at the register’ type?

Talk to person type. Always good to talk to someone during our breaks from the lonely drive to carry packages everywhere.

>>1033060
This sounds good. Snaaaacks. You loooove your beef jerky. You hardly eat anything else while driving, and you hardly ever do anything but drive.

Suggestion 2022/05/21(Sat)01:31 No. 1033070 ID: 90ff2c
File 165312187629.jpg - (181.12KB , 1200x700 , rails and the sun.jpg )

>>1033058
Who are you and what do you do?
My name's Hazel. I'm in my final year of an arts degree and I have library job going nowhere. In other words, I'm twenty-one and poor choices dead-ended my life years ago.

>Also, where are you? Well, besides at the gas station.
I've gotten out to wander to the sidewalk and look around. It's important to take in the air and keep an eye on friends, when travelling.

You are [Jack].
You have just woken up and it's 11 AM.
You currently are wearing boxers, and socks.
You are suffering from a hangover, as indicated from the massive amount of empty bottles around you.
You also see [Your Car] in this broken down apartment. It is currently halfway through the wall.

>>1033060
>>1033063
Oh I'm sorry brothers. This is a game that I am running for some friends over discord. Thank you for your interest though! That really does warm my heart.

>>1033070
What a pretty picture. Wouldn't it be nice if things were like that? Being an outsider and seeing a beautiful rising sun.

This is not that but for once it's close. Outside the roads need a bit of work. Outside it's hot without being too hot. Especially if you're used to the summer weather. Are you? Where were you born? Is your family alive?

You see a homeless man. Two. Three. Not right by but wandering or a block away. Drugs. They won't be here in the winter - too cold. Well, unless they are. Then they'll freeze.

Anyways, today is a good day! Cars roll by. It's nice and toasty, about 80 degrees. The sun is nice and bright. Honestly, if you were out in the woods today it would be down right beautiful.

There is a smoke shop across the way if such things interest you. There is a small magazine stand in the gas station to also pass your time. People get mad if you smoke AT the gas station though. Apparently small fires and gas don't get along?

Let's see where your friends are. Let’s see what their names are.

>>1033182
Hope you and your friends on discord enjoy the game, we won't interrupt.

>Who are you?

Alison Williams, a semi-well-known rockstar of somewhat high funding. Currently on a break from actually doing music thanks to the old friend known as burnout. We're probably using my car, unless someone else would have offered. Not like money is a huge issue for me at this moment.

> Also, where are you? Well, besides at the gas station?

Filling my car up for one, besides that likely trying to keep an eye on things in case anything turns... Less than pleasant. I've always been decent when it comes to violence as well as music, though my social skills incline me to be friendly to anyone I actually interact with. Even the ones who aren't my friends... Oh yeah, and trying to avoid being noticed too much, fans aren't so bad but it's annoying sometimes.

Hazel Fletcher 2022/05/22(Sun)07:46 No. 1033229 ID: 32689d
File 165323081683.jpg - (144.68KB , 2047x1308 , the distance between civilization and the barren w.jpg )

>>1033182
>Especially if you're used to the summer weather. Are you? Where were you born? Is your family alive?
Of course not. I was born way up north. My family's alive, and they're annoyingly good at staying that way. We don't talk, and for good reason, as I'd say things I'd regret, and they wouldn't because they never do feel regret, the bastards.

>There is a smoke shop across the way if such things interest you.
Smokes are good. Lots of people hate them in the car, so I'll probably have to hold back, but... I pace across the road to find them.

I wave at >>1033205 as I pass her.

"I'm getting smokes, Alison. Do you want any?"

I know she probably wouldn't want to confront the cashier, in case she was recognized. I wouldn't much like it if a flash mob of her fans started forming, either. Appearing in photos that my family might see online, in the company of an undercover rockstar, would quite possibly be the worst thing ever.

> Who are you and what do you do?

Sarah Lloyd, emancipated orphan, amputee, Law student, Gymnast, and trains in damn near every form of combat after Vampires ripped her arm off.

> Also, where are you? Well, besides at the gas station.

Presently, making sure she has a can of WD-40 for an impromptu flamethrower, getting snacks (about 5 pounds of trail mix), and a few two liters of various sodas for everyone.

And of course, as is natural for every single person, planning out an entire epic fight if something bad were to break out in the middle of the gas station.

>>1033205
Oh indeed. Stalkers are a very common commodity. More - fans seem to pop up at such inconvenient times. Apathy is the world and were one to run the numbers, really run the numbers, they would find just how unlikely some of these events really are. It’s as though fate lines up the most frustrating people for you to deal with at the most frustrating of times.

Not today though. It’s not like you’re dealing with crowds and crowds of fans to begin with but today is… something. Like a fog has cleared. The car fills up just fine. Maybe an email or a comment from a fan seems just a slight more authentic. Or maybe it is more authentic. Bots are a pain in the ass to deal with.

>>1033229

Ahhh, then the weather today should be agreeable. It’s warm without being too hot. When you make your way to it, you’ll find that the smoke shop is, well, expensive. For a smoke shop. Which doesn’t mean much. There is a TV that they’re watching in the store, going on about some wrestler that was just injured. The local news, it seems.

---------

So now we have Hazel. Now we have Alison. The group of friends is more than this, however. The group totals four. Together you're going to Mount Hood. It's going to be wonderful.

When everyone is done getting gas and snacks.

>>1033302
Oh, that’s curious indeed. After the vampires ripped your arm off, after you woke back up. After you were questioned. Who knows about this day? Who else was hurt? You would have found that trying to tell people about this a frivolous action at best and a very very dangerous one at worst. Did you see it, the stares of ‘does she know something’ when you tried to mention the supernatural events? Was it dismissed as mad ramblings?

Or is it held close to your heart? What about… revenge.

Anyways, no action today. At least not yet. They have all the snacks you want, big ‘ol bag of trail mix and plenty of soda. The man at the register looks at you through tired eyes when you ring stuff up. “Nice car.”

>>1033305
Oh she was hardly dumb enough to think that she would be believed about 'horrid fanged and clawed cannibals that could rip out a fully grown woman's throat with one swipe and drink the blood like some kind of unholy fountain'

She knew she would just come off as crazy, like the trauma was making her delusional. That's why she knew she had to get proof the next time they came for her. Of course, she always wore her heart on her sleeve, so even if she didn't come out and say it, the kinds of people who could make trouble for her definitely would know that she knew the official story of a gas explosion was a total fabrication, and she could practically feel those burning glares even then.

"Thanks" she said, her own response almost entirely automated. She was fortunate enough to not have needed to work any kind of job with a fairly hefty pay out on her parents life insurance policies double indemnity because they both died at the same time and before her 18th birthday, but she still did work as a cashier until her 18th birthday for the perspective of things, and she recognized the cold dead eyes of being on the tail end of a shift ready to just go home and die.

But, she would head outside and take a stretch to load up the duffle bag full of snacks into the car before she would take her own short walk. It was going to be a long drive out there.

Jennifer King was never the most popular person, and suffered in high school due to a combination of factors including being a nerd, not being able to afford new things, and having to help support the family by working part time at a completely ordinary used bookstore which meant she didn’t have a lot of time to go be social.
Then in college she is still kind of a square, didn’t drink or party. Did all right in her courses, solid B student.
And now she’s standing in the snack aisle, staring at the choice between stale snack cakes and expired chocolate bars.

It’s the best vacation she’s ever had.

Hazel Fletcher 2022/05/23(Mon)03:50 No. 1033311 ID: 560145
File 165330305080.jpg - (80.20KB , 850x602 , under a sky so blue can you really see the world.jpg )

>>1033303
Expensive is expensive. I hate it, but I'll hate going without more. Slapping smokes on the counter and paying for them along with the gas, I pass >>1033308 Jennifer on my way out, and spare her a smile.

"Good luck," I offer her, as she'd have a tough time finding a half-decent snack at a stop like this. "Check the prices before you buy anything, though. They're rough here."

The doors are sliding open and shut behind me as I stand on the pressure pad talking, and I take a moment to wave the receipt at Allison to let her know I'd paid.

Thanks," replies Jennifer, her voice quiet. Nothing on the shelf appeals. Everything is just a smidge too high, the marginal utility not worth it. Not when she isn't starving, not when she can wait until dinner. She has some cash saved up, from working part time jobs scheduled around her courses and being judicious with spending, enough to afford going on this trip to Mount Hood, but not enough to waste on snacks she won't like.

At least she's used to the weather, kind of. She's lived all over the Northwest, as Pops chased jobs across the area. Sometimes it seemed like no sooner than he'd get hired that the company would go out of business, forcing her and Pops and her older brother to move to another apartment in another city. Pops is in California now, something in Sacramento. Brother joined the Navy, 5 years ago. Sometimes he calls. He usually doesn't.

Done with the store, and it's terrible selection, Jennifer hustles after Hazel, still a little worried that she'll just get left behind if she doesn't. Again.

Some worries are hard to break.

>>1033307
Curious indeed. Plus, a source of frustration. This proof you seek would always have been just ever so slightly out of reach. Oh it would have made itself apparent to you - this taunting gross world that everyone is forced to ‘live’ in would have made sure of that. That final little puzzle piece though, the thing that makes everything click and gives that feeling of satisfaction. Where is it? Would you still recognize your families murderers?

Whatever that puzzle piece is - one thing you do know. It had to be fuckin vampires that killed your family. I mean, fangs? Drinking blood? Super strong? Of course vampires aren’t real. But it was totally fucking vampires.

“Yeah so like, my dad owns a dealership?” the young man behind the register adds - not very confident. Ah. He is attempting to flirt. You’ve seen this before. He is… not good at it. “If you ever like, wanna talk about cars I can give you my number?”

Outside birds chirp. It is indeed a bit of a drive to get to where you’re going.

----------------------------------

>>1033308
Then would it be safe to say that Jennier has drifted along her whole life? Sometimes it's hard to feel alive. It’s as if the world pushes you to that conclusion. Jennifer is a nerd - has she ever heard the phrase ‘Apathy is death?’. It’s a popular meme from a video game. It’s true too - everywhere you look - it’s like no one gives a shit.

Anyways, today is a good day! The expired snacks reveal fresh candy in the back, newly ordered and very sweet. Young and Smith brand chocolate. It stays good for so long and holy shit does it taste good. Everything they make tastes good and lasts a long time. Great company.

Also, Sarah just bought a shit ton of trail mix and soda so you’re at least good on that. The man at the register is trying to make a pass at her by…. Bragging about his dad and trying to give out his number to talk about cars? Hm.

Friends are awesome. It’s one of the few things that feels… right.

>>1033371

Nothing much changes from the first bit - one thing might want to be clarified. A silly thing that’s totally not important. If Jennifer is the type of person who likes to avoid ‘artificial’ tasting food she’ll find life to be… holy shit. That’s hard. Practically impossible. Even the fruit on the trees seems to have that flavor. Obviously that’s just a trick of the tongue though. Something that’s wrong with YOUR taste buds. Obviously freshly picked fruit can’t taste like it has preservatives in it. Right?

Right?

----------------------

>>1033371
Gas is paid for. The car is filled up. Smokes on hand. All things considered you have a pretty easy drive waiting for you. Sure, it’s gonna be a long drive, but something about today. There aren’t any words for it, not really. Like waking up in the morning and seeing the sun rise and feeling just right. Today just feels good.

A wonderful slow day.
------------------------

Anyways, who's driving? What kinda car is this? Let's see what kinda wheels we're working with here.

>>1033503

Jennifer isn't driving. She has her driver's liscence, sure. It comes with the symbol for "Only with vision correction" and everything.
She doesn't use it much. She only got it in the first place to qualify for more jobs, far too many have being able to drive as a requirement, just in case they need you to go somewhere and do something.

Hearing the man at the register, she can't help but stifle a laugh. She may not be (and in fact is not) that experienced with dating, but she can still recognize a terrible effort when she hears it. And recognize that as openers go, "my dad has a car dealership" isn't as big a draw as he clearly thinks it is. Well, maybe to some people it would be. Maybe. Jennifer may be willing to give the benefit of the doubt to most people, but even that is a stretch to her. Though hearing that does almost change her mind about having turned back to pick up some chocolates. She's careful not to meet the cashier's eyes, or even engage with him beyond handing over exact change.

She doesn't care about how natural flavors are. Caring about flavors is a luxury for people who have all the choices in thier food. It's less important when your choice is limited by price. And artificial flavors are part of life, and of cheap food. "Organic" and "all-natural" are just labels that drive up the price.
And if she tastes similar artificial flavorings off of fruits picked off trees or bushes, the few times she had field trips to orchards and farms? Well, she's used to it. That's life. Maybe things will taste better tomorrow. Maybe not. But the only way to find out will be to be there.

---------------------

She doesn't have her own car. Those are too expensive, though she's chipped in for gas money. It's only fair.
After she's bought a few chocolates, both for herself and to share with the group, careful to avoid engaging the cashier any more than needed, it's time to actually hurry back to the car. And to her friends. Those are the more important part. Back with Hazel, and Allison, and Sarah.
"Anyone want a chocolate?" It's polite to offer, even if everyone had the chance to buy one themselves. So she does. She nibbles on one herself.

Sarah Lloyd 2022/05/24(Tue)23:53 No. 1033520 ID: 383ea3
File 165346162283.jpg - (35.79KB , 600x400 , 2013_ford_transit-connect_cargo-minivan_cargo-van-.jpg )

>>1033503
> That final little puzzle piece though, the thing that makes everything click and gives that feeling of satisfaction.

The last piece that would make it all click would be corpses. Identifiable corpses that would blow though any cover up. Even if that's a woefully naive perspective.

But, completely ignoring the gas station attendant at this point, she put the soda into the mostly full ice chest with actual food and other drinks, and abandoning the idea of a walk while her keys were in the van, she instead opted to touch her toes for a good 30 seconds before getting into the almost too warm cloth seated brand new van.

The view wasn't great out of the back lack of windows, but it was great for how much space it had.

Hazel Fletcher 2022/05/25(Wed)01:02 No. 1033525 ID: f6de1f
File 165346572582.jpg - (104.91KB , 850x577 , scarlet downtown.jpg )

>>1033514
>"Anyone want a chocolate?"
"I'll be fine," I reply, waving a negative. I'm a sucker for chocolate, but I eat slowly, which means it'd melt in my hands and get everywhere in the summer heat.

>>1033520
"Alright, are you driving, or shall I?" I ask Sarah, before shaking my head. "Rock paper scissors, loser's driving? Let's go. On shoot. One, two, three-"

Three rounds of rock-paper-scissors draws later, I called shotgun. Shotguns shoot through rock, paper, and scissors, which means I won, and found myself sitting shotgun. I thought it might be for the best, with the car rigged up to be easier for her to drive with her arm missing. I found myself with a map out and navigating instead, adjusting my glasses as I strap in.

A gas station attendant watches people leave. The van moves on. To Mount Hood. It doesn’t take long to get there. You can only take the van so far before you need to get out and go hiking to get to any cool spots. It’s not too late and the sun is still up but you really don’t have much sunlight to go for any long hikes. Unless you feel confident in doing such a thing, of course.

So you’re all at a camping site, not too far from the van. Maybe even next to it. You’re alone all alone, which is nice. You could blare music and not bother a soul. Although you may freak out some nearby animals.

Mount Hood is off in the distance. So pretty. Trees and such. You wouldn’t guess it but one of the last sane Werewolves alive is currently being hunted by the ones he loved so dearly. By the ones he still loves. Blood drips, monsters dance. The proud warrior slinks while the jesters prance with knives behind him. That sorta thing.

The only thing that might give away that something isn’t totally right is just how quiet the animals seem to be. Birds tend to chirp, ya know? But this action is far away and you are unawares.

Anyho! What are you doing till night time? Does anyone go for a late night hike? Just setting up a little camp? How does one… go camping?

Hazel Fletcher 2022/05/26(Thu)08:03 No. 1033653 ID: 6bd08e
File 165357739225.png - (1.99MB , 2700x1920 , hot cocoa.png )

>>1033643
>What are you doing till night time? Just setting up a little camp? How does one… go camping?
Always set up camp early. Right next to the van is best, with tents we pull out of the back. Push down the pegs and poles, and clip the tents up. Forget whether the camping grounds allow gathering sticks for a fire, and regretfully pull out the smaller and more expensive burner.

Sitting in camping chairs, watching the sun go down, with a mug of hot chocolate and a smoke...

Wonderful.

>Does anyone go for a late night hike?
Not me, unless I think I see or hear something out there. I get lost pretty easily, and I'd rather stay in my chair unless there's something I know will be interesting.

>>1033653
>>1033643
> Anyho! What are you doing till night time? Does anyone go for a late night hike? Just setting up a little camp? How does one… go camping?

Well, that's always the big question isn't it. What to do in the twilight dimming of the sun. Soon, Dusk would fall, so she would just go into the storage of her car to pull out the firewood. She wasn't exactly a pro at stacking lumber into a good camp fire, but she managed, and gathered kindling from around the camp site, starting a camp fire.

"Alright... I kind of actually want to scout out where the trails actually are before it gets too dark. Stretch my legs after that drive."

She would, pointedly, stretch out tall as she started to walk to the nearest trail, really none the wiser as to the dangers she might be walking into. Though she still kept her hand on a hunting knife she had plated in silver and blessed by a local priest. After all, there were enough stories about only being able to kill a vampire with a Silvered bullet that, even if that turned out to be false, she wasn't taking chances.

Also if there were any creeps out in the dark of a non-supernatural variety, it still cut them as deep.

>>1033643
Jennifer watches the scenery from the back seat as they travel ever closer to the mountain. She's used to cities. And suburbs. This camping trip is a first. She hopes she packed the right stuff. Asks for help setting up a small tent. She got it used, but its still intact. Listens to the breeze travelling through the trees, the rustle of leaves. It's the sound of nature, as far as she's concerned.
Tent set up, sleeping bag unrolled, backpack left in the Van - it'll be safer there, she watches as the burner gets set up, then a fire pit. Helps gather sticks, once she realizes that's what's going on.

>> 1033663
"A walk sounds nice." She doesn't want to go alone. It's a bit too quiet for that, and shes read one too many horror stories of people getting lost, alone. "I'm surprised there aren't more people here." She has a flashlight and a water bottle, just in case it gets too dark, as she hurries after Sarah. "I'll help prepare dinner when we get back?", she half asks, half says to Hazel as she goes. This is more out of politeness than anything, she's a terrible cook. But she can help clean, or hand ingredients over, or watch for a pot over the fire to boil. But that's for after the walk.

Hazel Fletcher 2022/05/26(Thu)22:01 No. 1033733 ID: 79cefd
File 165362768882.png - (1.08MB , 862x1598 , optimism vs occult rating.png )

>>1033730
>"I'll help prepare dinner when we get back?", she half asks, half says to Hazel as she goes.
"I'll get started while you're out hiking," I reply with a wry smile, "But I have very important roles in the cooking process for when you get back. Skewer holder, and taste tester."

There's a chopping board in the car that's going to see use, and a shopping bag with meat and vegetables. I should be able to have everything cut up by the time the hikers come back, along with a grill stand over the fire. Watching food cook on sticks is part of the experience I'd hate for any friend to miss on a first time camping trip.

The rock star is... Not entirely quiet on the trip there, but no sense in worrying over every little detail. By the time they've shown up at the camp and it starts getting dark, she'd absently hear two of her friends ponder going out for a walk? Seems a bad time but eh, what's the worst that can happen. She'd also have gotten a shotgun from the car, for hunting reasons of course, she's no master of it but eh if a shot at decent meat comes up why not... Or if anything goes wrong.

"Well count me in, I can't say I'm expecting to get any game at the moment with how dark it is but I might get lucky. Though hmm, wonder if there's any silly urban legends about this place, it's fun thinking about that stuff sometimes~"

Well, it is to Alison at least, she's never minded the idea. Even done a bit of research into things like that over the years... Some of it ends up feeling more real than it should too, but that can't mean much right? Regardless of anything else, she's ready to see more of the forest around them.

>>1033733
So you make some food and gather some sticks. Make a fire. The Sun goes down and all is quiet. Hm, weird. There should be the sound of crickets. More time passes. It grows darker. Darker still. The fuck did everyone go? Things really aren’t adding up here. For one, your cellphone is dead. For two, your flashlight is dead. For three, your car is dead.

Things were going so wonderful. So why is everything broken? The end of a human. The end of another human. The end of a friend. There is a path there - filled with monsters that cackle like jackals, a pitch that makes ears bleed. Pain ends too, dissolving into zero. So many zeros.

Sarah is dead. Yikes. Endings. The others… no? Yes? No? You see perfect lines leading you to the corpse of a friend, swerving through trees and bushes. Sarah. Another line. It means Celestine and Luna and Jennifer is here. I mean, it’s just so obvious that the line-that-is-a-trail means that.

The third goes to Alison. The third goes straight to Hell.
-------------------------------

>>1033829
>>1033730
>>1033663

The sun is basically down. Maybe not all the way. The funny thing is: you all were just about to head back to camp. It was an uneventful walk! Even the bugs and the birds were pretty chill. With gusto or whatever your personality dictated you bested that simple little hike and got a good like at nature.

It was about the time the sun went down all the way that the laughing started. It was like a jackal. Scratching at ear drums. Electronics died. The flashlights? No. Those monsters were chasing someone. Fate and coincidence and all that rot.

It takes a bit after all the lights go out for something to happen. Something does happen though. A wind passes through. A blur. You would break your neck if you tried to turn your head following it. Then the sound of laughter. Then the pain.

Everyone is deaf now. So that sucks. Figures rush by - one reaches out in passing and a tree splinters violently, casting fragments of wood everywhere. That is more pain. More blood.

Sarahs dead. Huge ass chunk of wood. Was probably… mostly painless? I mean, no one is that lucky anymore. Who knows.

Slower figures soon follow. The cackles have already made you deaf. They prickle your skin. Make eyes bleed. Now you’re also blind. Jaws pick you up, taking you along. You are human in the jaws of a monster with very sharp teeth. They bite down hard but do not kill. It is as unpleasant as it is red.
----------------

So Jennifer King. You've been hauled only god knows how far in the mouth of some monster. You are blind and deaf now. Everything hurt. You know, cus teeth. You see the moon through darkness and blood. Feel the earth under you. No more teeth? No... no, that's just being replaced by blinding rage now.

So Alison Williams. You ever wanted to be a butterfly? You've had about the same treatment as Jennifer here. The key difference though is that you are now surrounded by a cocoon. The cocoon rests in the maw of the beast. It struggles to remove it - to you remove you. It may need to rip off its own head to breath. Quite the conundrum.

So Sarah Lloyd. You are dead. That sucks. Would you like to not be dead? Would you give up your name to not be dead? No - even better - to never die? Not until after the last living things in existence passes before you? Passes as in dies before you do. To clarify.

So Hazel Fletcher!... What 'cha doing?

Hazel Fletcher 2022/05/28(Sat)04:59 No. 1033852 ID: 2ef903
File 165373919129.png - (1.58MB , 1920x1052 , carriage ambush.png )

>>1033849
>So Hazel Fletcher!... What 'cha doing?
>Sarah is dead. You see perfect lines leading you to the corpse of a friend, swerving through trees and bushes.
>Sarah. Another line. It means Celestine and Luna and Jennifer is here.
>The third goes to Alison. The third goes straight to Hell.
Heading towards Heaven or Hell, and I'm not sure which. I feel as though something is stuck in my throat from the sheer volume of it all as I reel from the sudden influx of information. Breaking away from camp happens on reflex - my friends are dying or dead out there, and I need to help them. I'm stumbling about into the woods in the dark eve, feeling out of breath in moments, fear crawling up my throat as I trace the line with my footsteps that would lead me to their endings in time to avert them.

One was already dead. There wouldn't be much I could do for Sarah, unless the way she seemed to continue after her end meant... something. A resurrection, a zombie, a vampire, who knows - better to hope to save the living. Toward the light that meant friends, in the hopes that I could save them. In time to stop Allison's descent to hell, when paths split and I had to face a choice - in the moment, going to Hell seems a worse fate to avert than going to Heaven to be the moon.

>>1033849
Well, when people, her friends even, were absolutely in danger from whatever the hell kind of thing was going on, AND she could feel the radiant power to finally break on through right in the palm of her hands... There could be absolutely no questions about it, she was going to take that chance by the fucking throat. Even if it meant becoming something that she absolutely hated to do it.

And then she wakes up, pulling herself off of the tree shard she was impaled through the chest on, the night seeming almost painfully bright, and the small noises that nobody ever really hears almost deafening her. Her teeth had extended into almost painful fangs that felt too big for her mouth, and the blood stains on her clothes smelled surprisingly natural. It was her blood after all.

But, she can almost immediately see the trodden upon grass that... Something was running down, and she wasn't going to let them get away. And she was going to get the high ground advantage, as she leapt almost effortlessly from the ground to the trees and launched off almost as fast as a car along the delicate branches, scarcely so much as shaking them with her weight.

>>1033852
Down the set of chosen railroad tracks. Following the invisible road. Is this what hearing is to those born deaf? Like a child closing their eyes and wandering around the room blind. You know where things are so clearly but the distrust is already settling in. Chance and fate settle down.

Didn't you just know all the digits of Pi? You could have sworn... Each step removes the ethereal and replaces it with something concrete. As if reality just backspaced over a poem describing you and replaced with numbers and facts.

It's a bit of a walk to get where you're going. That's a lot of steps. There is danger but you have no need to fear it. The monsters in woods are as confused as you are. So long as you follow those memorized lines you will safely reach your friends.

Then it's gone. Chance and fate no longer swirl about you in desperation. Whatever this is, it is you now. A new sense of duty. A new sense of... just, way way too many. Deeper into the woods.

To find Alison in Hell.


-----------------------

>>1033853

'Everything is dead.' whispers the void. It only speaks the truth. 'Everything is dead.' it repeats. It says it again as it takes your name. It says it again as power godlike washes over like a cold wave. You no longer hear cackles. No. Things are dark now. Silent as the grave. Far away a wolf that is prey stares blankly as all his trinkets that honor Gaia turn to ink and splash upon the ground.

Off in the distance ravens gather. They make no noise. They do not caw. No squawks from these birds. They land and peer through trees as every holy symbol for a mile around simply melts away to shadows. Your target is not far away. In the distance - from atop the trees - you see thrashing. A group of raging beasts. Bodies hidden from view but not their actions. Trees move. Ravens circle.

Alison and Jennifer are close together. Though what exactly is going on is hidden by treetops and bushes.

-----------------------------

>>1033852

Sarah is dead. She is moving towards Alison and Jennifer.

>>1033867
Well then, if that's how it's going to be, with there being beasts a plenty down below, the being that was once Sarah will hold out her now defiled silver knife in a reverse grip and descend from the trees like a ballistic missile, a virtual thread tying her knife to the neck of the beast that captured Alison as her first target.

>>1033733
"I'll look forwards to it!" Jennifer calls back as the small group walks away from the fire, walks into the trees. She's always happy to learn more. But now is the time for a nice nature walk. Time for something peaceful.
>>1033829
"There probably are. Maybe we can go visit the visitor center, see if there are any posted there?" This assumes that there's a visitor center. There usually is, for public locations, or so she's lead to believe by what others have told her.
>>1033849
Jennifer enjoyed the walk. At first, anyway. It was nice. No mosquitos, no gnats, no annoying insects. As it got darker, well, that's why she brought a flashlight. To see in the dark, illunminate where she was walking. And she was with friends, to help not get lost.
The past tense is important there. She's not sure what happened to her flashlight. She thinks she threw it at the things chasing her, the things she didn't want to think about, the things that drove her to flee in fear as soon as the tree exploded. Or, well, try to. She didn't make it far before something, something she still didn't want to think about, had her in it's slavering mouth. Even as she struggled, or attempted to struggle, through the pain and the blinding fear and the pain, sharp pricks of teeth holding fast.
>>So Jennifer King. You've been hauled only god knows how far in the mouth of some monster. You are blind and deaf now. Everything hurt. You know, cus teeth. You see the moon through darkness and blood. Feel the earth under you. No more teeth? No... no, that's just being replaced by blinding rage now.

But now she's willing to actually see what has her. Now, she's getting angry. Fear fading away to be replaced with a certain sense of rage, and with it, clarity. Clarity that lets her ignore how her glasses have, at some point, been left behind on the forest floor, but how despite thier lack and the fall of night and the dripping of blood into her eyes she can still make out the large shape that has her trapped, hear it's breathing and the sound of travel, ears twitching as she hears it and it's friends and the whispers of the night. They tell her that these monsters deserve what's coming to them. They tell her that she's stronger than she thinks. They tell her that her stuggles haven't ended yet.
Filling with wrath, anger at these interlopers that dare ruin what would have been her best, if only by virture of being only, vacation as an adult, that would dare restrain her, chain her by teeth and claw, she stills from where she is being held, ceases her outward struggle, as she prepares for one more burst of aggression. These things won't know what hit them.

>>1033891

Leaves rustles and tree limbs snap. Like a great bolt released from a ballista or say... a rocket. It tries to meet you in the sky, furry and fanged. This is the one that made the tree burst into splinters with a grazing touch. His claws are massive and they are red with blood.

Also this thing is totally a fucking Werewolf I mean look at him. Standing on two legs. Huge wolf face. Teeth. Really damn scary looking. No doubt it think that when it finishes you it can deal with whatever is going on with the rest of his pack.

>>1033905
Rage and ferocity and a smiling moon! You are the Divine Monster. No wounds or infirmities hold you back. You could shout Sailor Moons catch phrase and it would be accurate. Next to you a giant beast silently roars as it suffocates on what appears to be a giant butterfly cocoon containing Allison. Also next to you is another beast, also blind with rage but also equally confused. You don't know this yet but it's very hard for a werewolf to be equally anything compared to its rage. Rage is always the highest, like, without fail.

He stares at you. Eyes demonic. What shape are you in?

The woman is… Herself, she’s got fiery red hair on her head, a curvy figure, and is currently wearing mostly black, has a pentagram necklace and some nice leather hiking boots. All those things are normally true and remain so at this moment. But at the same time, she is distinctly not at all herself. Her eyes now burn with a blazing demonic red light, her hands have grown claws extending from their tops which seem to have green wretched flames dancing along themselves, and there’s a feral sharp-toothed grin on her face while gazing at the beast which had tried to devour her. A shimmering barrier of mystical energy forming around herself while proclaiming proudly. “My name is Alison Williams… And I don’t know what I am right now, or what I’ve become, but I do know one thing… You just made your last mistake!” He'd likely know the feeling flowing off her as Wyrm taint, and in a terrifying strength at that. But her? No clue.

Her voice carries through the air in a sudden sing-song shout while rushing towards the best, those deadly flames bursting off Alison’s body as it desperately tries to defend itself by leaping backward. That doesn’t matter though, it’s body turns to naught but dust on the night winds, she revels in the skill and demonic might flowing through herself while a sharp laugh echoes out within the forest, vicious malice for their newfound enemies flowing from her vocal cords at the same time. Whatever she's become, it clearly fills her with joy in a dark way.

Hazel Fletcher 2022/06/01(Wed)07:45 No. 1034169 ID: 7b6b05
File 165409475040.jpg - (356.72KB , 1920x1081 , knock knock.jpg )

>>1034086
>>1034085
I burst into a clearing, following the lines of fate to my friends. Three furred creatures were attacking my friends, two of them lean and mean-looking, one of those with a mouth filled with crusty green gunk that made me think of water crustaceans, while the third was larger and more heavily muscled.

Things happened very fast after that. In the time it took me to take in the scene, a momentary glance, Sarah had leapt from the trees and cleaved the largest of the three beasts through the chest, her knife flashing silver in the moonlight, and Allison had reduced her opponent to little more than hunks of meat while Jennifer tore strips out of the last of them. The clearing was a riot of colors, violet and silver and green and bruise-blacks flaring all around.

In the midst of it all, my friends had become monsters. Sarah was pale and dead, a hunk of splintered wood through her heart, but she wasn't bleeding, and the pale silver knife in her hand carved bleeding lines in that moment. Jennifer had become something out of a horror movie between her membraned batlike wings and a face that looked concerningly like it was custom-made to rip people's heads off, given she was in the middle of doing exactly that to one of the wolves, while Allison had grown claws and picked up some glowing red eyes on her trip to Hell. Until she started bragging, it was hard for me to be sure it was even her in the way I was the others, as her fate began to warp behind her.

I had to take a moment to pause. I'd been ready to stand and fight to help my friends, but they warged out and killed everything without regard for how menacing those beasts seemed, apparently. I'd be angry at them if they'd kept this from me, but for now two of the wolf things were still up and moving, and I could still feel the future opening itself before me. I run to the fight, drawing on the creeping terror skittering up my spine to leap in with a flying kick that take the biggest of the wolves the rest of the way down. With Sarah already near-crippling the damn thing, it seemed the least I could do to join the night of violence.

"What the heck happened!?" I shout as I land, because despite all I'd seen, none of this made a lick of sense. I could only hope was that I wasn't hallucinating, and my friends hadn't been replaced with monsters - or monsters all along - about to turn around and eat me. I couldn't see my end close-by, but that didn't seem to mean much to most of the people here.

>>1034086
>> What shape are you in
The shape of ripping your face off, that’s what shape she’s in. Jennifer isn’t sure when exactly she entered that shape. There was some indeterminable point between the then, a screaming human getting dragged by a wolf-like monster, her blood dripping down its maw, and the now, with the wolf-like monster being the one to howl in pain as it’s own blood mats wetly along the short brown fur on Jennifer’s face, flesh tearing out under her teeth. It’s surprisingly delicious, but a faint taint prompts her to spit out the chunks she’s ripping out.

>>1034151
>>1034169

In the background she can hear her companions, her friends also fighting back. As she savages the savage, Her ears twitch towards the air, where she can hear the sound of slicing as what was a dead body moves, hunting the Hunter, hearing a chink of flesh go flying off to splatter on the ground, and to the side, where Allison introduces herself in song and flames and and a damp explosion, red light shining bright and melding with the silver swarm of smaller spectral bars that even now are erupting from Jenifer, casting the area immediately around her in shifting silver and shadows.

When Hazel jumped in with a flying kick to the beast that had started this, that all those long minutes ago had laughed and exploded through the trees, Jennifer let up on her attack and spit out one more chunk of flesh, just in time for the beast she had been… not eating, but you could be forgiven for thing so, fled, speeding away into the underbrush. “Good question,” she growled, “maybe we can get some answers from them.”

A play-by-play of violence. We need a starting point. We’ll start with Allison, if not for any other reason then she’s a rock star. The werewolf that held her in its jaws isn’t a werewolf anymore. It’s ash and still burning fire. The cocoon is in tatters but has held up better then the former werewolf; It’s webbing and grotesqueness slowly dissolving. The vapors smell of sulfur.

Not far away - just as afraid - is the other beast. It had Jennifer in its jaws before it was out beasted. Bested, with a chunk of flesh missing large enough to feed three lumberjacks, it runs. So afraid. It’s going to hunt you down and murder you as soon as it gets the chance. All hate and fear and a wolf’s mind - leashed and walked through Hell.

So ????. She’s met in the sky by another monster, rocketing through the sky. Like a rocket. With claws and teeth and pure fucking rage. It has a sword - its hand is a sword. Dripping and bloody and so very painful looking. It makes its move but is too slow. Its muzzle is gone now. It hits the ground with a thud. He’s going to try to run now. The other wolf is also running - on all fours. Then in an instant the beast is on two limbs and still. It’s breathing - it doesn’t seem to bleed out. The stumps contracts and twitches. This monster will be hurting even in its dreams.

The monster that fell from the sky tried to run. It really did. Hazel, however, did something. She shouldn’t be here? No, wait. She should be here. She didn’t leave the camp a few hours too late. When the monster landed she was there, ready to do the thing. Now the monster lies unconscious on the ground.

There is a lot of blood. It's just everywhere.

>>1034305
Well, standing over the twin unconscious not-corpses, one without a mouth and one without a left arm or leg, the person who was supposed to have been named Sarah would look back at everyone, her clothes shredded by the wood explosion, even if she had ripped out the chunk lodged through her heart.

"So hey, I have no idea how to deal with these." She would say, gesturing with an innocent cat-like smile at the massive fangs that were clearly way too big for her mouth, and were responsible for slurring her words in a way that I don't want to try and transcribe phonetically. "Or also with these." She would gesture to the wolf not-corpses, picking up the one who was all right with her hand.

"Also, like, does anyone know what just happened? Since like, I died. I don't think it was normal dying though, since obviously I didn't. Or that most people get a choice to not die."

Hazel Fletcher 2022/06/04(Sat)10:24 No. 1034324 ID: 32c18b
File 165436345117.jpg - (354.38KB , 1450x1169 , drow merchants mount of choice.jpg )

>>1034316
>“Good question,” Jennifer growled, “maybe we can get some answers from them.”
>"So hey, I have no idea how to deal with these." She would say, gesturing with an innocent cat-like smile at the massive fangs
>"Or also with these." She would gesture to the wolf not-corpses, picking up the one who was all right with her hand.
"We should take them back to camp, and tie them up or something," Hazel suggests, "We can lock them in the back of the van. They aren't smashing out of the back in that state. You said they were talking, Jennifer? Then we question them when they wake up, and we can fact-check whatever they say in the library, or ask the ranger to confirm it."

>"Also, like, does anyone know what just happened? Since like, I died. I don't think it was normal dying though, since obviously I didn't. Or that most people get a choice to not die."
"Not a clue. I saw it happen. You still look dead to me," Hazel confirms, walking to Sarah to check her pulse, and doubting she'd find one. "Your life ended a minute ago. Did you become a vampire or zombie while I wasn't looking, Sarah? You were supposed to destroy the vampires, not join them!"

Hazel's laugh at her own joke catches in her throat. Her memes end here. The feeling that had been crawling up her spine for the last... minute? How long had it been? She felt like she'd been running for half an hour, but that couldn't be right. She watched the sunset while preparing food and drinking hot chocolate, and the sun set barely twenty minutes ago. The feeling of wrongness was crawling up her spine, pin-sharp legs sticking down her airways.

Hazel hacks hoarsely, her hand slipping from Sarah's throat to her shoulder, and something comes out. It's bright as emeralds, iridescent, and it's many legs dance gaily in the mixed violet and bruise-black of Hazel and Sarah's mixing auras. The joins between it's legs and body look like artifice, articulated on ball-joints, and it's main body's chitin is smooth like a river-stone. It's legs, too, look less like something living and exist more akin to a puppet's. It's less than palm-sized, its stretched legs reaching perhaps from the base to the tip of the thumb. It lands on Sarah's collarbone, just above her chest.

It's a spider, and it had been in Hazel's throat.

Hazel rips her hand away from Sarah in sudden motion, flinching away from it. Hazel is silent, but her breaths come out in loud and rapid pants. She steps away in quick, stumbling steps, eyes transfixed on the dancing spider, and kneels down to jam fingers down her neck, prodding, clawing as far down as she can reach, but pulls up nothing.

"What the fuck?" She whispers hoarsely, fingers out of her throat and prodding at her neck, eyes fixed on the spider. "Kill it!"

For what it matters there is no more trouble. There are many ravens around and each wolf is stained head to toe with blood and ink. They growl and whimper while unconscious. Stacking them into a pile wouldn't be hard but these things are fucking huge. They're not gonna fit in a car. They could throw cars. You'd need like, a bus.

You have the whole night until the sun rises.

The smell of blood and bowel. Sulfur and smoke. Move past that. The smell of trees. The smell of grass and earth. Move past that. The smell of the birds and animals. Move past that.

Eyes sharpen in the darkness. The world is seen through unclouded eyes and it is a hideous thing - even under the black veil of the night. Blood stains the trees and green fires slowly flicker smaller as they consume the last of their fuel source. Look more. The tree that was sent bursting - killing the one who no longer has a name. Claw marks and splintered wood and tracks made by monsters. Look more.

Far away the Werewolf-that-was-prey licks his wounds. He smells it in the air, snout lifted, both wondering and grateful about his missing attackers. In the back of his mind he prays to the dead mother that his wound will heal properly as he makes his escape. You could find him, maybe. You know where he is - the birds give it away. From there you might find where he is going.

Like an odor being pointed out that you were unaware of. An eye floaty that finally comes into focus. How you never noticed it before - this corpse world. Nothing looks different but everything is wrong. You have seen the egg - you have peered inside - you have seen and smelled the rot. Now you are once again outside the shell.

The world goes back to looking normal. Not that anything looked different to begin with.

>>1034324


> "Your life ended a minute ago. Did you become a vampire or zombie while I wasn't looking, Sarah? You were supposed to destroy the vampires, not join them!"

"Well, like I said, there was a choice. Become immortal and get the power to strike back at things like this at the cost of my name, which by the way I am pretty sure I'm not supposed to be called Sarah anymore. But yeah, I'm not going to regret any choice I make to save people, but it's definitely not the kind of powers I would have wanted."

> Hazel hacks hoarsely, her hand slipping from Sarah's throat to her shoulder, and something comes out. It's bright as emeralds, iridescent, and it's many legs dance gaily in the mixed violet and bruise-black of Hazel and Sarah's mixing auras. The joins between it's legs and body look like artifice, articulated on ball-joints, and it's main body's chitin is smooth like a river-stone. It's legs, too, look less like something living and exist more akin to a puppet's. It's less than palm-sized, its stretched legs reaching perhaps from the base to the tip of the thumb. It lands on Sarah's collarbone, just above her chest.

"Oh shit, what?" Sarah would ask, her attention being grabbed by the emerald robot spider dancing as it landed on her. "I mean, why would I kill it. It doesn't even look like a real spider, and it's only about as big as a house spider. Maybe one of the bigger ones I've seen since I moved out here."

Rather than the requested killing of it, the person formerly known as Sarah would clean the thing off and put it on her head like a hat, completely unbothered by such a small spider.

"Anyway, I should probably go deal with the last of these things. I don't want to leave murderous animals around to murder other tourists."

Hazel Fletcher 2022/06/05(Sun)02:02 No. 1034366 ID: c1a08d
File 165441974262.jpg - (597.28KB , 2048x1491 , thats not the hat of all hats thats a chimaera.jpg )

>>1034365
>the person formerly known as Sarah would clean the thing off and put it on her head like a hat, completely unbothered by such a small spider.
"Are you crazy? It'll kill you! Look at it's teeth!" Hazel shouts, pointing with the fingers that'd been in her throat. "It'll chew through your skull and into your brains! They do that, dig into things with a little flap and then leap out at people when they get close! What if it crawls down your throat like it came out of mine...-"

Hazel is, at this point, as Sarah leaves, trailing off. Really, she was venting more than anything, but honestly worried nonetheless.

>"by the way I am pretty sure I'm not supposed to be called Sarah anymore."
"What am I supposed to call you then?" Hazel asks, leaving the bigger monster comatose behind her and skipping a few steps forward to catch up to her friend. The wolf-thing would stay that way for a day or more, easily long enough for them to deal with the last one and still drag it back to camp. She stays out of jumping range of the monster on Sarah's head and points the way to the last wolf-thing, some exotic sense like the one that'd shown her to her friends coming active to direct her towards it.

>>1034366
"You uh, do know that spiders don't have teeth, right? Like, that's why they have fangs. Anyway, I grew up with like actual 'bigger than your hands' proper spiders, so this is like a tiny little baby. Honestly, it was always really cool to find where the little burrowing spiders were, get them to jump at a paint brush or something, and then toss a little water beetle or something to them."

"But as to what to call me? I don't know, not Sarah."

>>1034370
Ravens crow as the clouds cover the moon. Its even darker now. A human could have his hand in front of his face and not be able to count his fingers. Something tells you that your name, Sarah, is no longer meant for this world. It's passed on. Utterly, truly, cast off as a price for revival and so much power. It wants to stay that way.

It takes a toll. Right now you'll find it impossible to put your fangs back in. This will last for seven days or until you use them to bring something closer to death. You're going to need a title. Something cool. Something that never really feels like a real name.

Fighting complete, Jennifer takes a moment to relax. But relaxing is hard, like this. She’s keyed up, still on the edge of violence, even though all that remains are her friends. And the rains, of course. Her instincts tell her to pay attention, to keep a close eye and ear and nose out for trouble, that there could be something more out there. Instincts that she didn’t have before.

A moment later she realizes she does, in fact, know a way to relax. In the back of her mind she knows all she had to do is twist, just like this, and moments later she’s suspended in midair, six feet off the ground, then she’s darting forwards, landing on the trunk of one of the nearby trees.

Flying was fun. Jennifer knew that before she would never have known what she was missing, but Bat-Jennifer now knows that the freedom of the air is something she’ll never willingly give up.

>>1034316

Speaking is hard, as a Bat. Almost impossible, it turns out. Jennifer can sense that where there’s a will there’s a way, but the way escapes her. So instead she swoops off the tree and in front of the walking not-dead, catching attention, ears twitching and body contorting in flight, expressing her own confusion. Sure, one of the reporters she’s talked to as part of her ‘figure out what I want out of college’ plans was always happy to tell her about rumors of the dead walking, moral panics over things going bump in the night, but those weren’t real, surely.
Somehow she also emotes this, her thoughts coming through clearly despite her diminutive form. Lassie eat your heart out.

>>1034324
And then Hazel spits a spider out. It looks delicious. Maybe Jennifer’s new bat instincts influence her more than she thought.

As it gets placed on Sarah’s head, Jennifer had to fight the urge to swoop in and eat it.
She would if it weren’t now a hat.
You don’t eat hats.
It’s rude.
And oh yeah, Hazel was asking her something, before she made the spider. Can she make more? That would save Jennifer a lot of food costs if Hazel could, assuming filling her bat-self proportionally fills her human self, her human self that she can feel lurking in the back of her mind just waiting for her to assume it again. There’s no rush though. Human, bat, or the monster she just was, they are all her.
Should probably answer the question before she gets more distracted. A straight line towards Hazel’s shoulder, then a twitch of the head and a briefly outstretched wing. The meaning is clear: those wolf things were laughing. They were enjoying themselves before they were screaming in pain.
She looks around, from her perch. Sees the ravens. Wonders how they taste. Then back at the wolf-things. She’ll probably have to turn back, to help move then. That would be the polite thing to to.
Maybe in a minute. After she gets a quick rest to catch her breath.
Flying is fun, but it’s a lot of work.

So did you know that when a werewolf is killed it reverts back to its natural state? The universe didn’t know that. Then, the universe remembered. The one that was finished off by Hazel. The one with a sword sticking out its wrist. This one doesn’t change. Nasty and worty and just very, very ugly. It’s hard to put into words just how ugly this fucker is.

Then the other one. The one missing a… paw? Two paws? Ahhh, so you see. It’s a giant wolf. Big ass fucker. Majestic looking too - for all its horror and wetness. This one looks the most natural right now. A wounded animal unconscious.

You can fit one of these monsters in the van. Who knows when they’ll wake up. It’ll be a tight fit though and these monsters reek. The worty one is worse than the wolf, but the wolf also smells like… a very dirty and bleeding and diseased wolf.

Again - It’s dark out. Very very dark. You all can glow on demand or see in the dark so it’s not that huge an issue but it’s something to keep in mind. Ravens fly around - caw caw caw. Caw.

Caw.

The next step - just so I’m not confused and everything is clear - will be…

>>1034640
>The next step - just so I’m not confused and everything is clear - will be…

>>1034363
>Far away the Werewolf-that-was-prey licks his wounds.
And we aren't far behind. I'm tracking the wolf with a sense I never had before, and wouldn't lose track of it for miles. With the delimbed wolf on Sarah's shoulder we leave the comatose sword-bearer behind to catch up to the only one of them that's still standing.

Not-Sarah and Hazel

Trees pass you by. Those passing trees become a large chunk of the forest. This will test Sarah’s strength. Either the demonic wolf proves too heavy to carry the whole way or the weight of hauling such a beast tires her out. Or nothing happens - The weight of the wolf being insignificant on her shoulders. Even with such a weight taking to the trees and moving via the forest canopy is a simple thing. It would just be… a bit bad for the branches.

Hazel. Oh you keep up just fine. The chase is not really a chase though the target does flee. Something, something, fleeing fate. It’s like, right there. The wolf fails.

You’re both upon it now. Four legged - staring at Hazel - eyes far less mad. Then to Sarah. No. Not-Sarah. It does not like Not-Sarah. The massive animal's nose twitches. It does not attack however. As if knowing the fate of the ones who were chasing him. Which if Not-Sarah managed to carry the body here then like, yeah. Yeah he knows you killed the things that were chasing him.

—----

Allison and Jennifer

So like, you’ve been, like, y’know, totally bailed on. A massive thing, so smelly, lies not too far away. It is worty. Though unconscious it hates you. If hate were a smell this is what it’d be. Though missing its muzzle the creatures still breathes - labors. Blood pushes out. Air in. Air out. A bit more blood. Breathes it does though.

If you both really tried you could fit this thing in the van and have, say, enough room for everyone to fit if they were literally touching the thing. Not very subtle. Very messy. Still doable.

Not-Sarah and Hazel

So it's a Mexican stand off between two god like creatures and a wounded werewolf. You see it in his eyes - an infinite rage. Then the wolf becomes a man. Not totally a man - but not the beast you've seen before. Far more human. Like a scary, taller version of Teen Wolf. The silence continues. It expects to die. Then.

"What the fuck ARE you??" it asks, voice gravel and bark. "What the fuck??"

Hazel Fletcher 2022/06/10(Fri)23:16 No. 1034752 ID: 0dbe5f
File 165492819274.jpg - (392.75KB , 1280x943 , this must be the work of an enemy stand.jpg )

>>1034678
>>1034732
>"What the fuck ARE you??" it asks, voice gravel and bark. "What the fuck??"
"She's a vampire, obviously," I reply sardonically, hooking a thumb over at Sarah. Her fangs sticking out made the conclusion obvious. "But she hates vampires, and most everything else that hunts people in the night as well. We left the demonhost and werebat behind to clean up."

"I'm just your average ordinary martial artist looking for trouble," I let the lie drip out my lips, violet light bleeding around me, "And I just hate finding it. Maybe you can explain who you are and what these things we cut down were hunting you for, and we might consider not cutting you down to size like we did that one on Sar-ah, sorry, my dark compatriot's shoulder?"

Mm. Wary. Mr Teen Wolf clearly thinks it's a dead man. It just can't seem to take his eyes away from the wolf the Not-Sarah is carrying.

"Vampires. Right." He practically barks. You can see it in his eyes. He plans to bolt again. For a moment. Then that look passes. Acceptance?

"That..." Then he sighs. "That is my pack. Or was. A long time ago. Before the Wyrm got a hold of them." A head shake. "This doesn't make any sense. None of this does."

When Hazel says part of Not-Sarah's name the ravens stare. Then look away. Some people need to stay dead, after all. Then...

"Thank you?" He adds. "For saving my life?"

>>1034678
Watching Sarah and Hazel rush off is a thing. And there goes spider-hat with them. Maybe with it out of sight it’ll be out of mind? Jennifer can feel the tense vibrations of worry and fear emanating from her current perch. Making a chirping noise to attract attention, she poses, flexing her wings in a way that she just knows means “While they rush off, have a plan to deal with that [corpse]?” A wolf-thing turning human means werewolves are real. That should shock her. Somehow it doesn’t. “Or that [unconscious wolf]? It probably needs to be restrained. Or coup-de-grâced. One or the other. “Hold on a moment, I’ll be back shortly.”

Launching herself back into flight, looping around to try and get a bead on the many ravens lurking around, Jennifer almost plows straight into the ground. Most of the ravens scatter, but several just caw caw caw in mocking laughter. Then Jennifer shifts mid flight, going from small big brown bat to man-sized bat-monster, and in a quick flurry of angry violence one, just one, of the ravens finds itself in trouble. And eaten. So it doesn’t really think for long. It’s delicious, and Jennifer has the feeling that if she wanted to, and weren’t glowing silver, then she could adopt the form it held as its heart beat it’s last. Without the broken wing, of course. Or the tooth marks. So not really as it is was at death. But that’s less poetic.

Landing back on the ground, done with flight for the moment, she again gestures at the human corpse and the unconscious wolf, looking Allison right in the eyes. “Want to try and load one of these in the van?” Again, it isn’t words she speaks with but body language. Which also asks to ignore the loose blood and feather, please.

>>1034837
It's easy enough to load the muzzleless werewolf into the van. It wiggle and wraggles whiles unconscious but other then that it fits in fine. Holy hell it smells. It didn't transform like the other one you saw did. That one turned into a extra large wolf when it was beat down. Before it was carried off by Sarah.

The one Allison killed is exploded. Into pink mist. With green fire.

>>1034752
>>1034370

The hairy man adds.

"This mountain is dangerous. We should speak elsewhere. There's no way this shit hasn't been noticed by something." He is tired. Needs sleep. Those wolves played with him like a cat does a mouse.

>>1034853
>>1034771
"I'm not hearing much in the way of who you are, or other explanations forthcoming. You can come with us back to the van while we head into town, but you'd be ready to start properly talking to us," I advise the wolf-man, quietly wondering what the hell we're supposed to fit even one of the full were-beasts in the van along with five people and not get blood all over everything. We'd want a second voice from the bastards, even if only to keep this one honest.

The man-wolf eyes Hazel silently and nods his head. He looks at the wolf that Sarah is carrying. Sadness. Resigned and all that lot. Hey though, at least the trek back is simple. No drama there. Wolf-Man is as quiet as can be unless asked something. He’s… semi-open with information. What is said is said because he thinks he’s dead. There are things being kept secret but also many things being said that are not.

To the van. You’re there now. Wow, fast. Okay.

That butchered wolf isn’t fitting inside the van with that giant mutant wolf fucker in there. It just can’t happen. You could get it on top of the van but well, that’s very very visible. The Wolf-Man does not like his fallen pack being held like this. He thinks they’re too dangerous. They need to be killed.

They’re corrupted, he says. By a monster of infinite pain and hatred and evil and corruption and every bad word that does and doesn’t exist. They went to a place that only bad men return from. A place both metaphorical but also very very literal called the Black Spiral Labyrinth.

Or don’t. He’ll be upset about that but, well, what the hell is he going to do about it. Honestly, the real problem is space. Get messy and have everyone squeeze around the giant mutant werewolf? Switch it out with the giant wolf monster? Bury them both and leave with some extra room in the van? Well less conspicuous that way. Although everyone is covered in blood, sooooo.

If it matters at all, for as bad as the giant wolf smells it doesn’t smell anywhere near as bad as the mutant werewolf. That fucker is just, hoho wow.

>>1035146
Okay, why are we actually keeping the soon-to-be and already-are corpses around.

"Okay, so I am pretty sure that I actually need to sleep in the back of the van. It's sun-proof, and I get the feeling that's going to be important."

The being who is not Sarah will note, still never having figured out how to retract her fangs, let alone that it was impossible for the time being.

"Double also, what exactly is dangerous about the mountain, since we should probably have noticed by now if it actually was outside of your former pack. I can hardly hear anything else other than the flock of crows.

>>1035246

A wolf-man motions to the two unconscious werewolves whom are being kept alive at the moment. That is one very clear threat. He seems convinced they won't be out long. Hazel seems a bit convinced otherwise.

"There are more like them. Out here, having 'fun.'. Where they go I have no idea but I know we can't stay here. Kill them both, end their suffering, let's get out of here."

>>1035531
"Well then, no can do. If there are more monsters here killing people and making the world a worse place, then we are going to deal with that. I know I will, and if you were packmates, you know where they sleep, so it doesn't matter if you don't know where they roam."

Her killing intent was palpable as it dripped like an inky shadow from her silver dagger, casually pointed at the werewolf as an implicit threat before she plunged it in the heart of the one without a muzzle.

Hazel Fletcher 2022/06/20(Mon)23:42 No. 1035563 ID: 14737b
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>>1035562
>"I know I will, and if you were packmates, you know where they sleep, so it doesn't matter if you don't know where they roam."
"We don't trust him to lead us anywhere right now, my dark compatriot," Hazel reminds her friend, leaning in to look at the mutant were-beast.

>her silver dagger
>she plunged it in the heart of the one without a muzzle.
"Oh God, what?! Sarah!" Hazel cries out in shock as the blood goes flying, "Executing unresisting prisoners very not-bad uncool! Warcrimes! Even if they're werewolves, you should at least pull them out of the van first if you're worried about them bleeding all over it!"

Hazel snatches the faintly-glowing jade green spider from where it's dancing on Sarah's head and slams it onto the corpse, then shudders.

"Fix this!"

There is a few seconds pause. Hazel lifts her hand, and the spider is gone from beneath it, vanished into nowhere... but the werewolf comes apart, dissolving into thousands upon thousands of spiders that send her screaming away from the vehicle, jumping onto, latching onto, and hiding behind a tree as she tries to avoid the tide of arachnids.

>>1035563
>>1035562
Jennifer doesn't have much to say about the murderous killing intent or the death threat. Or even the death. Part of that is that she's still a bat-monster, since it's still dark and there could be more out there. The werewolf, assuming that's what it is, and having heard with her little- well, not so little, but semantics- bat ears what everyone else was saying that's becoming more clear, and hey if she can be a bat - or a bird, she'll have to eat a robin at some point now, mental note made - then why not sure other people can be scary wolf-monsters. Or not so scary. They were scarier when they were blurs to the eye and not unconscious. And not dead. Which that one now is. Maybe she should have tried to stop the the ex-Sarah?

Nah.

But then Hazel grabs spider-hat. And then Hazel does something weird. Or wyrd. One or the other, or both. And then there's a horde of spiders. Pretty little things, but wow theres a lot of them and whoops time to take flight and land on top of the van. And maybe turn back into a human. "What was that, she calls down from atop the roof of the van to the tree where Hazel is cowering. She'll climb down once all the spiders are gone. Don't want to squish any accidentally.

>>1035531
"How many more? Are we talking three or four, or three or four hundred?" Jennifer doesn't want to think 'meh, we can take them,' she's taken intro to creative writing, she knows where that thought ends up. But it's good to know how much of a threat the dark vortex wolves, or whatever they were called, will be.

>>1036318

There are so many spiders. So very many spiders and they just book it. To make webs and do spider things elsewhere. Some do linger though. It's hard to explain exactly how many spiders there are. Imagine you're walking on a shag carpet and then oh no, spiders. There are way more spiders then that.

The wolf-man just watches. He almost doesn't hear Jennifer ask her question - eyes on the spiders. Just looking. Anyways, he does respond. "That's a hard question to answer. Here, though, in these mountains? Right at this moment? A dozen, maybe more."

Not a lot of info to work with. You'll get more.

--------

Time rolls by in the darkness. The 26 isn't empty exactly but damn it's late. The sudden rolling darkness and crowing ravens and all that rot has caused on accident or two. The news is gonna be a bit confused about that. You pass an empty car or two.

It's a tight fit in the van. The wolf sleeps. On the ride back the Wolf-Man settles into being just a man - pants and all. Can't be seen like that all up in the city. You have no trouble getting home. This is awesome. What's less awesome is how the Wolf-Man is very certain that the city is no safer then the mountain. It's just not where a bunch of proverbial fireworks went off.

...Proverbial? Metaphorical? Eh...

So you're at someones home. If it matters you were going to be gone for a day or two camping. So you're back early. If it matters. Wherever it is you took the Wolf and the Wolf-Man.

Anyways! Now is a good time for questions. Now is a good time to turn on the news or give your phones a look over. Or to bask in your own overwhelming power. The difference between what you were and what you are. You can practically hear Mark Hamill screaming in laughter.

Hazel Fletcher 2022/06/30(Thu)04:39 No. 1036588 ID: 1b7c33
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>>1036318
>"What was that?" she calls down from atop the roof of the van to the tree where Hazel is cowering.
"Why is it always spiders!?" Hazel shouts back, shivering in fear. She wouldn't be getting into that van without a full protective covering. Maybe two, just to be sure. She brought a bag with the tent, she could zip it up and seal the sides, right?

>>1036460
Putting the kettle on back at her house, Hazel shudders one last time at the memory. "Sorry about that. I fudging hate spiders. Coffee? Tea?" She offers the wolf-man she's settled at her dining table, before opening up the stage, "Anyone? I'd like to get a pot on before we start asking about the Vampire Agenda."

Hazel looks outside through the window into her small yard and hobby garden. Ivy is climbing up the walls. It's a pretty spot of green, but the spines did a good job fending off people trying to climb her fence, which was a real issue in this suburb and might turn handy when the wolf they'd left outside woke up. The damn thing had stopped bleeding quick, and was frankly fairly grotesque lying on the grass out there, but it'd be best to keep an eye on it until it woke up.

"I think we forgot, but do you have a name, wolf-man?" Hazel asks after a moment of thought. Her façade as a serious business scary person had fallen to shambles when the spiders happened, and returning home settled her in her skin more than she thought possible on a night like this.

“Theodore.” The Wolf-Man says. I mean, he’s just a normal human now. His gaze fixed outside the window at any movement from his apparently ex-pack mate. “And, no. I’m not thirsty.” His legs don’t seem to be tired either. The man is still standing - not knowing or really wanting to sit down. Pretty funny seeing as how the fucker is going to pass out at any moment. Gotta keep the pride up!

“Thank you for saving my life." He says, maybe for the second time. Then continues. "Who the hell are you people? What do you want from me?”

The wolf is in the yard. Tied up. In the grass. Out by the window. Do you plan on just waiting until it wakes up to interrogate it? You may want to do so in a place less… out in the open. It’s dark and all but this is still just a yard - fenced and shaded though it is.

"I'm not sure what you expect me to know about any vampires. Those bloodsuckers keep to the shadows."