The wicked die alone.

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

[Just past midnight, Thursday, August 14, day 445]
[The woods]

(Continued from here)

I still really ain't sure where we are. We been walkin' ferrat least a couple hours now, but th'clouds've covered th'moon, an'I can't judge what time't might be. Long 'nough fer th'wound'n m'should t'clot over an' m'arm t'go stiff's old leather. Ain't much else I c'n say beyond'at.

Glass'n me ain't spoken much, partly cuz we's both burnt out, partly 'cuz we wanna stay's quiet's possible. I ain't seen neither'a th'bitches since I left'em trapped'n screamin', but I ain't gonna count us 's anywhere near safe 'til we's outta th'woods 'n safe in our beds.

Pause's we cross into a clearin'. "Any idea how much further we got t'go?" I says inna whisper.


[OPEN to those from the previous scene, and others should they choose]

Comments

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"Half an hour, may be." Less if we ran, but don't think she could manage it. Not particular liking the idea myself, only imagine that if I heard a gunshot I could manage. "Care to try hiding you here, I'll go for help?"

[pirate-mystic.livejournal.com]

Goin careful now. Lost 'em a couple of times, then caught their trail again. Ain't so different from stalkin a deer, for all the dark. Quiet, quiet.

"Better get her soon," I mutter to Catherine, "or she'll be out and away. Know these woods."

[catherineknight.livejournal.com]

We have been walking for many hours. My face has swollen into a stiff mask, and the itch is near to unbearable. Reed is limping slightly, and we are both tired. But we cannot rest. We cannot, not until the witch is brought down.

"Better get her soon, or she'll be out and away. Know these woods."

"We can't let her get back to town." I murmur in return. "Who knows what she will do, especially now that she knows she's been discovered. This has to end, tonight."

...do I imagine, or can I hear movement in the bushes ahead of us?

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

"Half an hour, may be." Glass says, an'I nod. Right now, 30 minutes feels like a fuckin' eternity, but can't complain. 'm still watchin'n list'nin'....hopefully Glass knows th'woods better'n 'ey do, hopefully they's lost, hopefully th'blonde one wuz allergic t'wasp stings 'n strangled on'er own puke. But I won't count us safe 'til we's out.

"Care to try hiding you here, I'll go for help?"

Consider't, but shake m'head. "Can't risk't. Still dunno where th'fuck'ey are, an' don't wanna risk'em comin' on me again. C'n still walk, anyway; least'ey didn't shoot m'leg." I smirk. "Hey, I owe y'one, fer stickin' wit' me." Smirk again, wide, "Tell y'what, next time you 'r onna yours's cursed, it's on th'house."

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"I could," thinking it out as I speak, "try leaving this with you." Brush fingers over the woven feathers of the cloak. "Doesn't work for others--" hardly uncommon with oddities-- "but may make difference if I gave it you for the night." Not sure that'd count, but could try. Can't quite make myself offer more, not even now; it's my blood and death that made up the thing, and I'm loathe to part with it.

"Tell y'what, next time you 'r onna yours's cursed, it's on th'house."

Sniff amusement at that, and turning to watch the woods. "Would that I thought I'd never have need of that." Still, in a world with so many Wednesdays, not holding breath. "On, then."

[pirate-mystic.livejournal.com]

...That's them. Can hear 'em, almost smell 'em. How'd the two of 'em get back together? Never mind.

Both of us coming up so slow and tense, feet so careful on the wood floor. Don't want to snap a twig, flush a bird. Just like hunting, yep.

"On, then."

No time for that. Can see them, just. Shorter shadow must be the young one, so the other... 'S not a safe shot at this distance, an through the trees, so I stowed my pistol and got my longarm, trustin to the rifled bore. Come on, ol' gal. You never let me down yet.

Shot's a sharp crack in the air, smoke in m' nose an eyes like the witch's trick. Spent cartridge a white rag. She's down, yep. Can smell the blood.

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

We's laughin' some, Glass'n me, li'l bitta whistlin' past th'graveyard's we make our way home. Hopin' so hard't we's outta danger, but not willin' t'let our guards down jes' yet. An' jes' as'm op'nin' m'mouth t'ask if'n Glass heard somethin', I hear a shot an' somethin' punches deep inta m'gut.

I see Glass starin't me, 'er eyes wide 'n white'n th'black. I feel somethin' warm'n wet seepin' down under m'belt, an' m'knees've suddenly gone t'water. Fall down hard, first on m'ass, back 'gainst a tree.

"Go, Glass." I says. C'n taste blood. "Go."

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

Oh. Gut wound, not aground yet, but too far to carry and cannot stay, need to move and cannot bring myself to--

"Go."

Oh yes, I can run, though it aches and my spit's growing thick and sour in my throat. Feather and blood brings me to mist and silence, at least the trees are thickening and I'm not fearing an aimed bullet in the back; and in my mind it's more, sooner, better aim, and all of it nothing now. Lucien, Kaeli, Mab... Another, any other, and now there's nothing but the thin hope I'll find someone as can do something afore I need bury her again.

[chester-excolo.livejournal.com]

I c'n feel somethin' goin' on in the forest, it's makin' my fur all itchy but it's too far away for me to tell what it is. Gotta go look. At least it ain't rainin'.

I start to fade in but feel a weird tingly sensation, like somethin's already there in the same spot i'm, tryin' to reach. I slide to one side an' finish up almost scrunch up next to one of the bigger trees.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

Something like being buried in dust, and hold my hands up, pull free of the feeling of choking and stop to try and recover myself--

Whitest thing in the woods, think I'd have chance of catching sight of him even with another's eyes, and take a look to see that no-one I can catch sight of's coming and hunker down, pushing the cloak back. "Chester?"

[regal-vigilante.livejournal.com]

Something is wrong.

Out on my rounds I heard it- that crack far off in woods. I suppose it could just be someone out hunting- but who hunts in the middle of the night?

It takes just a moment of decision for me to head into the woods. And the second shot sets my feet running. Breaking through the underbrush as quietly as I can. Whatever's happening, I want to get there fast, but not end up in front of that gun myself.

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

At first I think it's the old pain in my chest, the one I used to wake up with. Where Syl killed me, I know now. But it's not, it's too low, like the sort of gripe I used to have in my guts when I started eating proper food at Valmont's --

I sit up. I felt the thing that happened, not long ago: across the river, where the pull from the Carnival and Management is. But it was nothing to do with me, or with Iblis, and I ignored it, even though it made my teeth ache. Things like that happen, after all.

But this. I shake my head: there's a high buzzing in my ears. And I can smell blood, too, though there's none here.

--I know that smell. Can taste it in my mouth, like I have during sex, though she always marked me more. Syl, and I'm out of bed and running before I understand, door slamming open and the stairs a long scramble. My foot hurts - both feet do, bare on the road and then on rough ground - but I don't care. Syl Syl Syl.

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

Got called out to the Whitechapel for a brawl that ended up in some cuts and one concussion, but nothing truly serious. Even stayed to have a drink with the idiots, who seemed like brothers after the blood stopped flowing.

But there's a bed, and it has my name on it and I think I shall go there. Step out of the bar and---

My hackles raise. I can hear a shot ring out across the bridge, out past the carnival and my hands tingle.

Christ. Another night in Excolo.

Without thinking, I start out at nice sprint over the bridge and head out towards the woods.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

Keep catching myself starting to stagger and then back to what I'm calling a run as it's quicker than a walk, but really... Spit to clear the taste of sour iron out of my mouth and stop a moment when I see someone coming up, from town, a little off aside...

Get a bloody good look at him and--really, well, grant there's odd times tonight and only glad they're maybe turning in favour.

"Hey," thick-throated and tired, then clear my mouth and try again. "Lucien!"

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

Dammit. I can feel the pull of someone hurt from the woods, and it's bad. As much as I want, no--- need to go help whoever it is, I have no idea what's going on and I have no weapons---

"Lucien!" Stop at the sound of my name and look around. I see a shape against the dark, and after I stare for a second, I realize who it is.

"Glass!" My voice sounds sharper and more panicked than I'd like, and I run over to her.

"Are you hurt?" No, not her, not badly enough to make my nerves scream like they are, but what the HELL is she doing out here this late at night, and.... oh god! "Where's the baby?!?! Is she okay???"

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"Are you hurt?" and call it mere discomfort, seeing as how nothing's bleeding yet. Shake my head. "Where's the baby?!?! Is she okay???"

For the love. "Surely." Probably. Dorian'll be having a fit about now, I imagine... Catch at Lucien's arm, then start back towards them. "Reed and Sir Catherine gutshot Syl, Chester went to try slow'm down." Wonder if there's anything else t'say about that. "They're both carrying guns, mind."

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

Glass looks exasperated, good. Not her and the baby's safe--

What???? Syl's been shot, there are guns and Chester...

"Guns. Gotcha. I can find them, stay safe for gods sake!!!!" I say, taking off at a blind run into the woods. Let's hope third time's not a charm for dying. I really don't want to know if I can survive a gunshot to the chest....

[catherineknight.livejournal.com]

Reed has frozen, hunched over and glowering in the grass. But the sheriff is insisting, "But when you chased her through the woods and shot her- you made yourself as much of a villan as you think she is."

"And what were we to do, leave her to go and continue to murder and wound? You knew what she was doing, and you did nothing to stop her! She serves the Devil, she causes harm to give him power, and no one in this town would stop her! We have to make a stand against the Devil before he drags this whole town into Hell! We must fight against those who would serve Satan, or it will be the doom of us all!"

There is a man now...and I knew him. The town doctor, who also came from that den of sin. And he wants to go and heal the witch, so she can continue serving their master. "Do you see? The Devil sends more of his minions to save her! Sheriff, please, this cannot be allowed to happen!" There is my gun, gleaming in the moonlight. It is only a few feet away....

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

Oh, Jesus fuck, more yellin' 'bout me'n Satan, but I don't got th'breath t'argue no more. An' now'is kid's climbin' all over me, jerkin't m'clothes. "Where is it? Where's the bullet, Syl?"

It's in m'bloody guts y'bleedin' idjit, s'what I think, but still can't seem t'get 'nough strength t'say. Ev'rythin's startin' t'go dark 'round th'edges, annit's gettin' harder t'hear what'ey're all yellin' 'bout,

Though when th'kid touches m'face, I manage t'find th'energy t'bite th'li'l fucker.

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

She bites my arm. Hard. I yelp and pull away from her, stare down. I was trying to help.

But that's Syl, isn't it.

All the shouting and the smells and the tension in the air is making me sick, muscles all tight. My jaw aches. "I need to see the wound," I tell her. "We need to stop you bleeding." I'm trying to explain. Everyone's talking at each other. I don't think she can hear me, now. And oh, Lucien's here. I can't think enough to be surprised.

"Lucien, help me." I can't fix her, I don't know how. At least I can pull her shirt up now. My fingers find the wound in the mess of blood. "If she dies," I tell the rest of them, loud over their argument, "I'll kill every one of you." I will. I will.

[regal-vigilante.livejournal.com]

The worst part is that as far as she's concerned this was still the best idea. And I know that nothing that I can say will change anyone's mind. And nothing she says will change mine.
At this point all I want to do is let their own gods sort them out, but that moment and the urge to fix the situation has passed.

Lucien's here now, and it's for the best. Maybe he can keep the boy under control. All he's doing is adding to the agitation in the area. Isn't helping Syl, and certainly isn't helping me. Don't know how much help the Doc can give her though- I don't even have to look to know she's lost so much blood.

"It doesn't matter what any of us think now," try my hardest to keep my voice calm and even- me yelling won't help anything in this situation, "Now that I'm here I can't let you hurt her."
They should know; watched me- fought me even- protecting a man I despised so he could have his trial. How can she think I'd do less for someone I don't even think is guilty?

[chester-excolo.livejournal.com]

Doc greets me with with a relieved smile and a quick scritch behind the ears and then he stands up carefully an' makes his way over to the group clustered round Syl.

Looks like their still talkin' so maybe doc'll have a chance to help her.

I make my way back to Mab, on the alert for any more people turnin' up.

[catherineknight.livejournal.com]

"It doesn't matter what any of us think now. Now that I'm here I can't let you hurt her." Cold horror coils its way into my belly. Was Reed correct? Is the sheriff in league with Satan's army? I didn't want to believe it...surely the sheriff stands for law and order in this town, and she seemed so devoted to her duty...surely it cannot be, it cannot be.

"But you will imprison her, yes? You will make sure she harms no others, and she will be executed as the murderer she is?" Even as I say these words, I am moving, so slowly it would be hard to see. Inching towards my gun. The doctor is coming, the doctor from the Carnival, here to help his colleague in evil, and I cannot let him undo all we have done tonight.

Reed sees what I am doing; she presses her hand down hard on a stick, causing it to crack like a pistol-shot in the cold air. For a split-second, the sheriff's eyes are off me, and I am lunging, seizing my gun and coming up in a roll.

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

"Lucien, help me." I nod and move closer, slowly. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife, and I don't trust Reed or the leperous knight not to snap.

"If she dies, I'll kill every one of you." Groan a bit, and runa hand through my hair. "Micah, that's not helping." I say softly, wondering if Syl knows who's crouching over her, trying real hard not to call him Tez.

Mab is trying, bless her, but Catherine is beyond reason. "But you will imprison her, yes? You will make sure she harms no others, and she will be executed as the murderer she is?" I am getting aggrivated, but I have to stay calm. "That sounds real good, let me just get her stable and we'll all go back to the---"

And then all hell breaks loose. There's a loud crack and a flurry of frantic movement. Without thinking, I dive towards Syl and Micah, hoping to blcok their bodies with mine, wishing I had a gun or knife or anything.

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

"Micah, that's not helping."

"No one's helping," I say, frustrated, "and she's bleeding --" Then sharp sound and he leaps towards us. And for a moment I forget it's Lucien and it's just someone else attacking Syl and I rise to meet him, grabbing at him to keep him off her. This body doesn't know what it's doing, and I've mostly got hold of his hair, I think.

We're both between Syl and the rest of them, though, and when I pull us down we're blocking her better. I scrabble to cover as much of her as possible, make sure no one can shoot her again. I've still got a hand locked in Lucien's hair. "Fix her." Please. Please please.