logs | ♰ Before the Next Sacrifice

[If D sneaks up on Augustine in the Oakwoods, it isn't intentional. He didn't take the torch the old woman, Myrtille, offered because he can see in the dark. (Though he did consider it as a means of weaponry; there are plenty of things on the Frontier who dislike fire.)

Even wrapped from head to foot in the most ridiculous amount of cloth, even with spurs on the backs of his boots, he somehow manages to walk without making a whole lot of sound. To Augustine, it's light but still there. The plush crunch of moss underfoot, the way the ground shifts to accommodate him. The harpies, too, lingering above in the distance, chanting. And the dark, catastrophic aura following him where he goes, an inner gravity dampened by the way this place takes from them the height of their abilities.

He's not there, and then he is just there, spit out of the shadows as a silhouette and nearly invisible against the dark. His pale face is the only bright thing, floating in the nothing. But he stops a yard or so away, giving Augustine room to recognize him.]

Are you here for the lantern?

[Augustine didn’t even bother with the torch either. His unnatural eyes are better suited for the dark anyways. His sclera is completely black and the irises glow like rubies in the dark. He looks every bit like a demon right now, webbed wings and all, but his love for extravagance makes him appear less severe. While the long red coat he wears is getting a bit frayed at the edges, Augustine still looks like an aristocrat. He doesn’t really belong out here among the reeds and bushes. Not at all but Augustine already volunteered himself to the cause.

It’s difficult to sneak up on him, especially since his hearing is so acute. However, the constant heckling of harpies above distracts him. They’re too noisy for his liking, every grotesque chuckle causing him to frown in discomfort. Those pointed ears aren’t for decoration, you know? Nevertheless, the hunter manages to sneak up upon the purple dhampir fairly too easily for his liking.

That's why when D speaks, Augustine nearly draws his blade.]

Ah, I should’ve known you would come.

[He all but grumbles as he pockets the knife within his hand. It’s not much in means of defense but perfect for him to tap into his dark arts. All he needs is a meager drop of his blood to perform his special brand of sorcery.]

Yes, I am but unfortunately I find myself being accosted by vultures.

[He turns his frustration towards the harpies.]

[The twitch to draw a blade is expected and valid, so it doesn't bother D at all. He doesn't budge. There's an understanding that Augustine wouldn't attack him unnecessarily, and an understanding he can protect himself.]

Don't pay them any mind.

[Once the blade is gone, once Augustine has realized it's him, he closes the distance between them to come stand an arm's stretch away on Augustine's side. The harpies don't get a second glance from him. Though, strangely, their chattering has become more annoying to him than he thinks it usually would. This makes him a little suspicious.]

They don't have it.

[The lantern, he means. He starts walking on ahead, pace slow.]

They don't?

[He quickly falls into step with D, his gaze lingering upon the canopy above. While he's almost certain the harpies won't attack them, Augustine is hesitant to leave that to chance. He's quite aware of how dangerous they are thanks to past experience, most of which transpired in his realm. His dislike for these fiends is why the city of Hawthorne was always harpy-free.]

Well, of course not. These overgrown pigeons would've said so by now.

[A sigh escapes him as he glances towards the hunter. D is an enigma to him, a daunting one at that. Yet in the same breath, oddly familiar. Nevertheless, he's grateful for the hunter's presence. Venturing out here into the unknowns was a foolish idea but then again, Augustine honestly wanted an excuse to visit Serene. After all, it's the only part of Stygia that reminds him of home.]

That begs the question then, who stole it?

[Sometimes even on the Frontier, mutants do not attack. Monsters will, but genetically altered mutants who are sentient have their own morals, and loyalties, and desires like everyone else.

When the harpies did little more than obnoxiously call to him, he figured they did not have the lantern. They hadn't been brandishing it either.]

I don't know.

[But regardless, he keeps walking through the woods with Augustine in tow. The dark is not something he's wary of most of the time; however, here it seems to be riling up the new voice inside him. This may not bode well. It's fine...

All at once, he comes to a stop. He turns his head ever so slightly, silent, like he's listening. Faintly, a melody. His eyes shift to Augustine as if he's trying to see whether the other man hears it as well.]

[Augustine pauses briefly once he hears something in the distance. It's quiet little hum, one that would easily go unnoticed by mortal ears. He stands there for a moment in complete silence, his crimson gaze focused upon what seems to be a small clear up ahead. He nods towards the hunter before daring to find the source of that melody. Now inching behind the shadows of a nearby tree, Augustine cannot help but squint once he sees a silhouette within the darkness.]

Well, well, well... [Lets out an humored chuckle once he sees the youth seated within the clearing. It's a boy, a young man judging from the shape and scent. While they're a little too far off for him to make out their features, he can see the faint orange glow beside them.]

It seems that we have our culprit.

[He murmurs as he glances towards D again. It goes without saying that this is a little too convenient to be plausible. While Augustine wouldn't dare call himself paranoid, he does possess a healthy dose of skepticism. That's why instead of simply barging out there into the clearing, he lingers within the shadows for now.]

Edited 2022-10-07 20:48 (UTC)

[POOR AUGUSTINE. The man is valid, but D, for all this worldly ten thousand years of wisdom, is as straight-forward and somewhat wily as ever. He's really dressed for stealth, but prefers to face things head-on.

His feet lead him after Augustine in the same slow, careful way, but when Augustine moves over to take cautious cover... D continues walking. Without any hesitation, he steps right by Augustine and into the clearing. Look, he's dead. What's this punk going to do, kill him again?

But the Puck seems more amused than anything else. D has at least stopped several yards away, closer to Augustine than the young man.]

Return the lantern.

[Stealth always was his bread and butter, especially against more powerful foes. While he's unaware whether or not their quarry is a threat by any means, he's not going to leave that to chance. Just when D comes near, he whispers the following.]

It's best that we observe him. [He mentions, not at all noticing that his companion has other plans in mind.] Observe and then strike when the moment allows it.

I know better than to believe what my eyes see---?Wait!

[Augustine frantically tries to reach for D's cape in hopes of yanking him back behind the foliage but he's a second too late. A frustrated hiss escapes him as he glares daggers at the bolder dhampir from the shadows. How is it that he's the one advocating for stealth and not D? Augustine nearly lets out a swear once the youth turns to greet them with open arms. However, it doesn't seem like the boy plans on relinquishing the lantern any time soon. Not at all judging from the impish gleam within his soulless gray eyes.]

[Left Hand would like to tell Augustine this is exactly the bullshit he puts up with if he could.

It’s no surprise to D that the Puck doesn’t seem eager to give up the lantern. But he did come out and ask, for what it’s worth. D is asking nicely……… For now.

But the trickster laughs and inquires if they will indulge him. D can feel the hum of energy here, the hum around Puck. It’s manipulative. He may be straightforward, but he isn’t stupid. It’s going to be a game, he can already tell.

D turns his head slightly to glance over his collar at Augustine.]

We can try to take it.

[Unless Augustine would like to regale the Puck with their company.]

[Still mentally reeling from how quickly the hunter managed to blow their cover, he nearly misses when D calls back towards him. He lets out a tense sigh as he strolls out from the darkness, the entire time glaring daggers at D. While he doesn't doubt either of them could simply take the lantern, something tells him there's more to this energetic youth than what meets the eyes. He knows a thing or two about the Fae folk from his realm but he knows nothing about the faeries who linger here in Stygia.]

Must you be so boorish? [He questions before glancing at the child in question.] Only a ruffian would do such a thing and not expect some sort of reprisal.

[The comment certainly wins the trickster's intrigue. Puck seems overjoyed at the thought of having guests to entertain, so much that the youth encourages them to join him by the makeshift campfire nearby. The whole interaction seems innocent enough, that is until they stumble across a small camp. If the moth-eaten tents weren't warning enough of something more sinister at play here, then maybe the telltale scent of decay does. It's enough to nearly make Augustine gag.]

Goodness, what transpired here?

[He muttered as he brings a white handkerchief to his nose. What? Every proper gentleman in Voltaria has one. Stop judging.]

[Augustine gets a silent, but flat sort of glare for the accusation. His lips thin, but he doesn't argue.

The whole state of the camp is exactly why he knew he should have just made an attempt to get the lantern back initially. The furrowing of his brows makes his nose wrinkle slightly; he doesn't cover his face even though the scent is atrociously heightened. He carries no hanky for times like these...]

The forest didn't let them leave.

[Not literally maybe, but this is where they did not escape. He stands by the camp, refusing to sit, probably to keep the notion between him (and them) and the Puck as distant and unbalanced at possible. When the wind picks up, his body is mostly too covered, but his face isn't. The leaves nick him on the cheeks, drawing blood. And then, slowly, they begin to knit over, healing.

Puck decides to regale them with some fabulous tales and song. D glances at Augustine. As if he's... still... offering just wringing Puck's neck to get it over with.]

[Bloody hells, is it too late for them to try and steal the lantern back? The thought certainly crosses Augustine's mind as he regards Puck. The boy seems all too eager to regale them with his fantastical tales of adventure and love lost. It's just a shame that all of this is nothing more than a mere farce.

While Augustine dared to humor the youth by taking a seat by this makeshift fire, his companion doesn't. This is actually a blessing in disguise since the youth is distracted. It's very easy to ignore D's presence when the hunter doesn't want to be bothered. He shoots D a glance once one of those razor sharp leaves strike him. A thin little cut forms upon the top of his hand. Instead of the wound instantly closing as it should, he allows his blood to flow for the time being. It goes without saying that some sort of dark afoot here and it's not just Puck's doing.

A sigh of frustrated escapes him once the boy suddenly mentions a riddle.

"I am a word that is hardly there. Remove my start, and I'm an herbal flair. What am I?"

Why is it every time to the Fae comes out to play, there's always some asinine riddle involved? Augustine can't help but scoff. Much like D here, his patience is running thin.]

Hardly there? [He mumbles while contemplating the answer.] Hmm, I've never been good a riddles, sadly.

[He shoots D again glance, this time with a fanged smirk. It's time.]

[Hmm. The stories don't sound inspiring exactly. Eerie. Like something else may be at play. A change in the wind, the forest. Movement.

The eyes looking at Augustine narrow slightly before shifting to Puck again. The riddle takes him a moment to mull over. He wonders how quickly he could twist the Puck's neck, if he could, and get the lantern. The odds are a bit better with Augustine.

Honestly, he's more worried the Puck will do something with it if he tried. Guess that means he has to go for the lantern.

Without warning, he moves with incredible speed, hoping Augustine will understand. He goes for the lantern so long as Augustine doesn't mind dealing with Puck.]

[The second D springs for the lantern, Augustine finally makes his move.

With just a snap of his fingers a flurry of bright red chains suddenly unfurls from his hand. They slither across the dead grass like serpents before suddenly ensnaring Puck within their iron-like tendrils. The chains tighten and tighten as Puck struggles, determined to keep this mischievous youth trapped. While some people might revile such underhanded tactics, Augustine was left with little choice. Stygia’s future is in jeopardy right now and with so little fertile land left within this bleak city, it would be a shame if the Oakwoods fall.

He tightens the chains around Puck’s neck as he rises from the log, keeping the Fae from talking. The last thing they need is for this pest to mutter a spell or two. If the hunter manages to grab the lantern in time, then they’re home free.

If not, well…they’ll cross that bridge when necessary.]

[While Augustine deals with Puck, D snatches the lantern.

The woods are still alive and unwell. The woods are probably going to eat them. Something is rumbling in the depth of them, hurrying their way. He turns to face Augustine and the Puck, holding the lantern in his long fingers by his side. Quietly, he says:]

...Sparsely.

[...]

The answer to the riddle.

[Maybe answering would have merited them the lantern, but maybe not. It would have been a waste of time to take chances. The Puck distorts in Augustine's chains, then spreads away into the wind, disappearing under the chime of a laugh. D looks to Augustine.]

We need to leave.

Sparsely?

[He repeats with an bemused expression. It takes him a moment for him to realize what D meant but once he does, Augustine lets out a sound of distaste.]

Marvelous work, D. Now only if you had answered sooner--

[It would've saved him the trouble of having to distract Puck but nevertheless, it worked. However, he cannot help but growl once he realizes that the boy escaped. No matter how tightly he wove those bloody chains around the Puck, the boy still managed to escape using some form of magic to dematerialize himself. How frustrating but at least they've managed to save the lantern.]

Lead the way!

[He says as he chains he summoned suddenly burn to ash. The wound upon his hand is healed for now but Augustine is feeling a tad lightheaded now. This marks the second time he has to use such magic in this realm. He sure hopes there won't be a third time.]

[Normally, D does not mind so much when things flee he had no real interest in killing. But the Puck absconding without retribution... Strangely, it irritates him? He finds himself briefly wishing Augustine's chains, yes, had strangled the life out of the Puck.

D, a crackly voice says in his head, you feeling okay, pal? What was that?

He turns away from the putrid camp and starts back in the direction they had come. This time, his pace is slightly quicker, though he isn't running or sprinting. The sooner they return the lantern, the sooner the woods won't roll into a hungry conglomerate ready to--what?]

Keep up.

[There's no need to tell him twice since Augustine is hot on his heels. He can feel the chaotic shift of magic within the air. It's almost as if the entire forest is screaming at them now. Every shadow here feels like it's teeming with violent and malevolent energy. It's like the Oakwoods has become an entity of its own. Those annoying buzzards from earlier are nowhere to be found as a foul wind howls through the woods. Augustine turns slightly to see what chases them but all he can see before him is darkness.]

We've angered this place. [He mutters to D once he manages to catch up with the hunter.] We should've waited, who knows what we've unleashed.

[While his worries are well-placed, Augustine couldn't help but pause when a voice in the back of his mind mutters "who cares?" Something is truly amidst here and it's not just the howling winds causing it.]

It was already angry.

[But Augustine is still right, they did not help matters with their small disturbance even if it's to retrieve something needed to pull the taint of the wood away. To appease it--isn't that the way the old woman had spoken?]

We just need to return the lantern. Watch behind you.

[He doesn't trust something not to run up on their tails. His speed picks up just a little; he misses having a horse, too, on top of his sword.]

The end is ahead.

[The lantern is supposed to be that appeasement but even with this magical artifact within their possession, the Oakwoods is teeming with hatred. It dawns on Augustine while they're fleeing that the lantern alone isn't what purifies Serene. No, that's merely an accessory crafted to prevent the Restless from having to sacrifice each other to appease the evil lurking here. After all, the lantern itself was made by the very bones of Serene's original founder.]

Blood might be the only way! [He suggests over the howling cries of the woods closing in on all around them.] But to do so would only seal our demise.

[A foul thought crosses his mind, one that Augustine hesitates to whisper. It would be beneficial to just steal the lantern from, D and leave him here. That way the Oakwoods would be appeased by the hunter's sacrifice. However, Augustine is no villian and such a morbid thought sickens him to his core.

Instead, he reaches for D's arm and quickly pulls them towards the gates ahead. While D might be a little faster than Augustine on foot, he lacks the ability to fly. He glides upon the howling winds with D in tow. While he's unable to fly too far above the ground, at least they're able to somewhat ride the winds.]

[The idea of spilling some blood for the blood forest does not appeal in the slightest to D. No one else's blood, but especially not his own. It's dangerous, and he suspects his blood may be too poisonous and tainted. It would potentially make things worse.

Before he can answer over the wind, he is being lifted up into the air. Resisting would throw them both down and waste time, so he goes along with the pull then the gliding, letting Augustine lead him by the arm.

He glances over his shoulder into the depths of the woods where they had emerged. An inky pool of darkness is following, taking up the space of the dark already inside the woods itself. The tendrils reach out and grab the edge of the earth and trees like black hands, pulling it forward without disturbing the landscape. He looks ahead again, keeping the lantern held tightly in the grasp of his other hand.]

It's coming.

[But they should make it, he thinks. By a hair's breath.]

[The inky darkness that encroaches them keeps getting closer and closer like a tsunami. It's as if the evil that lurks within these woods have become solid in form. No matter how fast they run or at this point, fly, this oppressive black shadow seems determined to devour them both.

However, Augustine has other plans. He can see the light at the end of this long dark road. They're so close to freedom that he can feel it within his very bones. Every last bit of him aches in protest since it's been decades since he had to put into this level of physical endurance. Flying alone is difficult enough when you have to battle against violent winds but with a companion in tow? It's damn near impossible.

Nevertheless, the impossible is achieved the second they manage to pass through the gate. They slam through the gate with a plume of black-gray smoke trailing behind them. Augustine lets go of the hunter's arm once they're close to the ground, trusting the other dhampir to land safely with the lantern.

As for him, Augustine nearly flies into a nearby pillar before eventually coming to a halt. The darkness that chased them seems to fester by the gate like a cloud of black smoke, unable to cross the threshold.]

[At the very least, D can commend Augustine on the flight out of here. This place has dampened what they are all capable of doing, and Augustine is carrying a heavy load through the resistant winds.

Gracefully, D weights his legs down once they are out of the gate and lands on them in a small sprint until he can come to a stop. He twists to look back toward the gate, standing still with the lantern, watching the festering shadows struggle in the attempt to reach them before finally giving up.

Dicey.

He glances to Augustine, looking the man over briefly.]

Are you alright?

[The gate itself seems to groan in protest as the shadows try their best to break free but thankfully, it can’t do much other than struggle. Augustine watches as that inky void suddenly starts to recede like a malevolent black tide. The shadow slinks slowly back into the forest revealing the tranquil backdrop of Serene once more. Whatever monster lurks within these woods is still present but for now, it seems to vanish without much of a trace.]

I'm...I'm well. [He manages to gasp in between breaths.] But if we had to flee any further, we would be dead.

[Disheveled after that impromptu flight, Augustine takes a moment to right himself before approaching D. Unlike the hunter, he’s utterly exhausted and it shows. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t be so fatigued but something about the Netherworld just saps his strength dry. It’s frustrating, especially since Augustine knows he’s far stronger than this.]

Is the lantern safe?

[He questions with a hint of worry as he wipes the sweat off his brow.]

[They would maybe be dead, yeah. Not that D wouldn't try to help them, but... with how this plane is treating them, who knows. He finds it frustrating to have to not be boldly stupid in things he does.

Slowly, he brings the arm with the lantern up, holding it as one would walking down a moonlit path in the night. Even being jostled as it had, there aren't any damages.]

Thank you.

[For getting them out, he means.]

Let's find the old woman.

♰ Before the Next Sacrifice

Knock Knock Also, but On Different Wood

<3

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