Rebuilding the Past

[Jen]

The sun cracked the horizon as Isabella crested the last hill before reaching Rivenfelde. When she'd seen it last it was a thriving war torn metropolis -- all because some man thought he could make it better. Was it really better to have seen such destruction?

With her hands on her hips, Isabella cast a glance behind her to the group below. This dune was more solid than the rest, as if there were rock underneath. She frowned a moment before looking into the valley below the ridgeline. In the distance she could see the glaring sparkle of the sea.

Rivenfelde was no more. She had expected to see something, but there was only a lake with a dense ever expanding jungle sprouting out of the sand. Bella hit her knees as she looked at what had once been a great and powerful city. Nothing. Not a soul, not a body, not a single home could be seen from this distance. There was no way to tell how deep that lake was. The Yuurei had obliterated everything, all traces of human life at least. A distant part of her mind wondered if there were repercussions of such power on the land. She would have to ask Caela to see if she could find out.

It was then that she felt Caela's presence behind her.

"It is hard to see that the city I once knew is gone. Erased from history and time without a thought."

Caela's voice sounded hollow as she watched the valley fill with light. It was so very different. Bella looked up at her daughter and nodded, sympathizing entirely.

"Its not your fault."

"I was ruling when they emerged. It feels like it was my fault."

"Some things are beyond our control, Caela. If I remember correctly you were being usurped from your throne, were giving birth, and then kidnapped for future use as a breeder by the Yuurei. No one could have seen that coming, and no one could have handled it with more grace than you have."

"At least I'm alive."

"Mother?"

The pair turned as one to look back at the slender figure of Sebilla. She was watching them with her keen silver eyes, the pupil a stark contrast to the glittering iris. Her black hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her skin was a soft tan -- she looked like a Xexorian in many respects thanks to her father.

"It wasn't your fault, Mother. I know, I've seen it. I lived it in some small way." Sebilla smiled and slid her arms around Caela's waist in a hug. She was the quiet and thoughtful child, in contrast to Trydian's often vocal and distrustful ways.

"You are a good girl." Caela smiled and kissed the top of her daughter's head and glanced back down the hill at Trydian and Vylrath. She pondered what Vylrath might think of what this city, that had meant so much to all of them, was now reduced to.

"There do not seem to be any human occupants down there. There are living things, but that is all I can sense -- not what they are." Isabella gained her feet and looked down the hill. Caela's voice was almost haunting in the quiet dawn air of the desert. The smell of fresh water was intoxicatingly mixed with the salt of the sea.

"There are animals down there. Some could be savage, we'd best go prepared." Caela pulled her daughter tighter against her body, as if in a gesture of protection.

[Vylrath]

He wanted to take a piss in the ruins.

After all, he had come to this miserable realm to destroy the inhabitants, only to be beaten by some fucking aliens.

Even though he had dramatically changed by blood, by body he was still lithe as ever. Agility had been his backup plan for survival – lack of common sense usually caused his failures. The sand dunes swept him into the past. He remembered hiding, the Yuurei trying to convert him as one of their Generals for the war.

Maybe he should’ve taken the job. He had known of their plans and had foreseen the destruction, but he failed to stop it.

Even Isabella didn’t know of him being recruited into the Yuurei ranks. The shame that came over him when he thought about it, kept him from sharing that piece of history with her.

He overheard Isabella, quietly coming up to her side with the sword in hand. “We’ve been through Hell and back and you’re worried about animals?” His body gave off a warm glow that resembled a living shadow. It curled lazily around his body. “Once they sense me, they won’t want to be around us. Trust me.” Vylrath smirked, his familiar smirk, the sword seeming to come alive in his cold hands.

Walking ahead of the women, he let them follow his darkened path. Nature seemed to react, with everything turning deathly quiet, making the place seem more like a tomb.

His once empty eyes were now ignited with a different soul. He wondered what plan Isabella had for rebuilding this dump.

He unbuttoned his pants and pissed on a single ruin, acting unaware of the fellow travelers near him. Pulling himself together, he moved forward, letting the Vuri essence rule his body and mind. Turning to look at their future Queen, she could most likely see him full of confusion. “What do you want us to do now, Bella?” It would be the first time, in a long time, that he had called her that in front of others - even if they were family.

The once ghostly ruins were now filled with the scent of piss and sweat. The scent stole away the calming moment, but his smirk hadn't vanished. If she was going to have him do a lot of the work, then he had some plans of his own that she needed to realize.

[Agony>Misery]

Wonderful.

As if the devastation of having Rivenfelde laid waste before them all over again weren't enough pain, now they had Vylrath piss everywhere. In that moment, Trydian considered him more of an unruly drunken uncle that everyone put up on holidays, before shipping his unconscious body back to whence he came. He fought the urge to hold his nose, and instead simply looked away from the others, off to the right of the crater. His mind couldn't help but drift back to the dead man, brown hair matting with blood as he used his last moments to point out to Trydian the glimmering thing. Could he have come from here? He didn't look particularly Xexorian, of course he didn't look particularly human, either, wings of ivory holding him high above the earth. He had come from this direction, and yet, what was there here to visit but holes and scavengers?

Perhaps the Thing was a Xexorian artifact, a treasure excavated from these ruins by the bloody angel. He hid his newfound excitement easily, remorse and disgust still fresh on his mind. How many people could have been here between this visit now and when....when it happened. If something so beautiful could be found in all this dirt and sand, and stale water, perhaps it was still a place worth fighting for. He stared up hopefully at his mother and grandmother as he shifted from trailing behind the group to making his way closer to the front of the group, but somehow staying mile's away from Vylrath, at the lead.

[littlebean]

Everything was gone. Perfect. A perfectly normal and healthy individual with a loving family and social life would be devastated by the ruin of the city. The world around them would be destroyed, homes burnt to the ground, loved ones killed or disappeared and this would fall nothing short of pure tragedy. With all of these things out of the picture, without people and without a home, was it really all that bad? Barclay had none of these things, and for this he was thankful, otherwise he might have been upset about what had befallen the city.

He had lost nothing, but gained everything. Barclay hadn't much of a home, no belongings and no friends. All three he found to be expendable, and the most important thing a friend could ever give to Barclay was a body, and with so many people dead, he had everything he ever needed. Death was his source of income, the more people died, the more people would need cremations and other funeral services and the more gold would line his pocket. This, all the chaos around him was nothing short of a miracle.

But in the funeral business Barclay felt that there was a certain living to dead ratio that needed to be followed. The amount of people dying needed only be equal to the amount of people living. If the amount of living people outnumbered the amount of dead people, there would simply be less funerals and less money.If the amount of deceased greatly outweighed the amount of people living, he simply didn't have any alive people left to pay him, as of deceased people couldn't really fork over cash. Yet there were other ways the dead could pay him, he just never dared to get caught "recieving payment" in public.

In regards to cash though, perhaps he could just take whatever the corpses had on them. However, payment wasn't hardly any of his concern, the cash he recieved from the death was merely a bonus to the job. The real treat, the real reason behind his occupation was the pleasure of watching the dead burn. The flames glow was inviting and it's flickering movements nothing short of tantalizing. Every aspect of a fire, no matter what it was burning was truly breathtaking, so much that still Barclay was constantly looking for excuses to burn things.

Today's object was going to be a fish he caught. Casually he breathed his flames onto the creature. He enjoyed the fire, but sadly it wouldn't last. As much as he enjoyed the sight of the fire, he didn't much like the taste of burnt fish. He could watch the fire burn another time.

[Jen]

"We wait. We need a plan before we wander into this." Bella glanced to her right and smiled at Caela. "I doubt you would disagree with me, even with this place in ruins."

Caela laughed briefly and planted another kiss on Sebilla's forehead before letting her go. She watched the raven haired girl wander over to her brother and stand close to him. They were good together, the twins. They looked out for one another, as it was meant to be. It was an odd sensation to remember her own brother, Roen, at that moment. He had wanted her dead before she was even born, with such a viral hatred that she still felt numb when she thought of him. Caela shook her blonde hair off her shoulders for a moment before looking down at Vylrath. Did he position himself below the women on purpose so that the scent of his urine would waft back to them?

"Vylrath...!" Isabella noticed his piss just a moment too late and the scent was strong. She frowned down at him for a moment, remembering the temple of Tempus so long ago that she had been given charge of. She shook her head and looked away from him and over the distant ruins engulfed in jungle, the lake an all too fresh reminder of how fragile life could be. "Put that thing away, Vylrath. The last time you did that you nearly populated half of Xexoria."

[Vylrath]

The smell that wafted to Vylrath was not piss, but of something well-cooked. The scent of something charred, rendered his hungry senses useless: he had to have that food. Obstacles were no longer obstacles, but feats accomplished by the quick. His feet moved at an awkward grace, while the sword rested at a haphazard angle across his back.

Vylrath didn’t give the women, or his son enough time to react to his rash decision. The smell of food could just be a rare hallucination due to the heat. After all, he had come from the darkness. Even though he had lived here most of his life, he had never gotten quite used to their sun.

The feverish display lasted for what seemed like hours to him, but mere minutes to his (more than likely) confused followers. He had travelled across the dune at an immense speed, mostly accomplished by unnatural creatures.

He could just see the light of the camp up ahead. It appeared to be made by an ordinary man. He stayed well hidden amongst the dune, ignoring the mass of ruins, submerged in water. Deciding to play his luck, he snuck up from behind the man, using some of the land ruins as cover.

Once he got close to the man, his sword went to the person’s neck. “DROP THE FISH!” Vylrath yelled, with no hesitation. Did I seriously just say drop the fish? He shook his head mentally and proceeded on with his idealized plan. This skirmish was most likely to cause a commotion- so he was sure that the ladies would find his whereabouts.

[littlebean]

Barclay was eating. He sat there cross legged in a sort of slouch with his fish, slowly chewing away at his delicious catch. The whole time, he sat there enjoying the ruin and the silence the chaos brought, leaving not a single soul behind. After such catastrophic destruction, the thought of survivors, let alone threatening survivors hardly even crossed his mind since he'd been so preoccupied with his fish. Yep, his fish. That's all that there was. Just him, and his fish.

Suddenly a feeling of sharp cold steel against his neck would dramatically change his relaxing situation. Apparently, he had been wrong about being alone, which now was obvious. He hadn't heard or seen the attacker come up behind him. The offenders appearance startled Barclay so much that he almost chocked on his mouthful of fish.

"AAAHKAFFKAFFHURK!!!" He yelled first, then choked for a bit. Once his airways were cleared up, he responded accordingly to the mans demand. "DROP THE FISH!" was the command, so he did what he was told. The fish was tossed aside, landing with a small thud on the dirt, what was left of it anyway. By the time his assailant had come to steal his fish, Barclay was more than halfway through his meal. All that remained was the tail, and some skin that hung off the bone. The guy could take the damn thing if he wanted.

So he waited quietly, to see what the man's next move would be. He couldn't say he didn't do what he was told, Barclay had been totally complaint. There wasn't any resistance, because until he was facing the stranger, the stranger and his sword would have the upperhand. Not until he was face to face with him could he give him a mouthful.

[Agony>Misery]

Trydian, both shocked and at the same time, not at all surprised by this current madness, stared after his father and then back to the adult females as if to ask should I stop him or help him? Oddly enough, either way was fine to him. The smell was much fainter to him, and yet it was there, and Trydian was starving after all. Coupled with that, was his previous instruction to stick with Sebilla as well as his recently amplified distaste for his father, led him to be confused but calm, and completely still.

His eyes strained to see what was going on as his eyes played between the gleaming metal in the desert, and the two men. His hand played at the hilt of a slender blade within the folds of his own garb. Fondled, more like. The sensation was strange, being willing to attack either of them at the slightest sign of approval in any of those left surrounding him.

[Jen]

"Oh for the love of..." Isabella shook her head, pressing her hands to her face for a moment as if to ask 'why me?'. She glanced briefly at Caela before looking behind her at Trydian and Sebilla. "You two come, but slower. We don't need anything happening to either of you, understand?" Isabella stared pointedly at Trydian as his gaze glazed over with whatever sort of distraction he had in mind.

"Lets go." Isabella shook off her cloak and motioned Caela to do the same. They were lighter in body than Vylrath, but slower -- less maddened by whatever force that drove the ex demon. Still, their speed was decent, their pace faster by far than a human mortal. It would take them perhaps three minutes to reach the scene by way of shifting sands and avoiding the speckling of trees and ruins that existed beyond the lake. When they arrived, Vylrath would not harm them -- and in an ironic way it almost seemed vampiric in the way they flocked to him, their undeniable maker.

"Vylrath, just what do you think you are doing? There is no fish." Bella bent down and grabbed the carcass and wiggled it in Vylrath's direction as she looked at the stranger. Isabella was beautiful in the dangerous sort of way. Long legs, gorgeous face, deadly eyes -- everything that marked her a predator. The woman behind her, however, was less threatening if only a fraction below painfully beautiful. Her blonde hair caught the light of the fire and her tantalizing midnight blue eyes with their starry silver flecks sparkled with a brilliance that breathed immortality. They both looked hungry, but they were both in far greater control than Vylrath.

"The fish, unless you desire to eat bones, is gone." The brown haired woman threw the carcass at Vylrath and turned to the blonde behind her. "I think he's going crazy." She muttered, but well within earshot of the stranger and Vylrath.

"Father is crazy, when hasn't he been?" The blonde responded, her eyes never leaving Vylrath.

"Good point." Isabella glanced at the stranger for a moment and smiled, they were in perfect view right in front of him, if a good ten feet away. "I apologize for this man's ruining your dinner. He doesn't think before he acts." Isabella glared at Vylrath then and rested her hands on her hips.

"Now that you've alerted not only this man, but the gods only know what else to our position and our appearance in this land -- what do you have to say for yourself, Vylrath? Do you want us dead before we even begin to rebuild?!" As Isabella berated the man with the sword, her voice became a little more shrill.

------

"Trydian, why is grandfather so insane?" Sebilla asked as she picked up her mother's cloak and her grandmother's. She stood on her tiptoes for a moment, shading her silver eyes with one hand so that she could see into the distance. She was a human, a mortal, and unless her brother picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, they would go the insanely slow pace of human mortals. It had often driven him crazy as they grew up. She smiled at that and looked back at her brother.

"Why are you so thoughtful of late, Brother? You don't usually think before you act. Though, you made grandmother and mother happy by trying to make nice with grandfather." Sebilla picked at the end of her braid in thought. She hadn't had any more of those scary "visions" yet, and she was always on the verge of insanity thinking that she might eventually have another. How could anyone call seeing the past, or the future for that matter, a gift?

"We should hurry, Trydian. It will take us much longer to get to them."

[Vylrath]

Kill him? He wouldn’t kill someone over a fish, but he would make the person get food for them. In a dream-like state, he removed the blade from the man’s neck, acting completely oblivious to what he had done.

“Get us some fish and you may live! By the way….I saw how you used that fire. If you want to live, you will tell me how you do it! I know it isn’t just any magic. In fact, I will let you live if you join us with that power.” He kept the sword in front of him, acting as if he would attack the man if he opposed.

Vylrath was tired of just surviving and he was tired of being whipped with the simplest of commands. It was time he lived. He let the same dark essence curl around his body, almost trying to intimidate Barclay further.


He pointed the sword toward Bella, amused by the entire event. “Furthermore, you will need to learn to bow to the Queen of Xexoria…Isabella Rivenfelde.” The fish had just smacked him across the face after his speech, his mood disheartened and annoyed. “Women…I try to get them a meal and this is what I get.”

[littlebean]

It was still too early to tell how far out of hand things would get, and still Barclay sat there in a calm and collected manner, the same way he sat before he was interrupted. It was almost as if Vylrath wasn't there at all. Really he was so irritating, Barclay was trying to pretend like he really wasn't around.

The crowd around him was growing. Not only was Barclay not alone, but the man had company. Upon hearing the voices approaching he merely sighed and rolled his eyes, but when the rest of Vylrath's company arrived his eyes took a different motion, an up and down swing over the women's bodies. To put it lightly, they were downright gorgeous. Even after his meal Barclay was still hungry, and he certainly wouldn't mind a taste of what the ladies had to offer. He decided that regardless of the women's condition and state of their health, he would like to get all three of them, and he would.

If he were to outlive them, some alone time before cremation would be all that he needed. When she spoke her voice matched her physical beauty, and her choice of words would only improve his situation. She seemed to be insulting the man, bickering back and forth as a wife and husband would. Maybe the younger bodies were the children? A cute little family all together, in a time like this. It was almost enough to break your heart.

"It's okay." Was his respond to the wife in a low flat tone, not daring to say anything that would stop the woman from scolding the man, her antics causing a smirk to faintly grow on his face.

The man, or Vylrath as the woman called him, was just as entertaining as his wife, throwing around demands at him, only to have the remains of his dinner slapped in his face. A giggle trickled out of the smile he was trying to restrain.

"Kihih..."

[Agony>Misery]

Trydian developed a frown that deepened more and more at it's corners as he surveyed what was going on. Father had lost his mind, the women didn't trust him to do his job, and his sister was bringing up the unfortunate talk that he had been a part of last night. Though it had started off well enough, it had ended as abruptly and on such terms as it usually did, frustration, confusion, and a tint of anger. Trydian watched as his mother and grandmother took off down the slope after Vylrath, and waited as Sebilla gathered their things.

He wanted to answer his sister truthfully, but he couldn't stomach it. The image of the heavily bleeding angel in the tomb of sand haunted his sight now, as he tried to pay attention to her. " I...saw something strange in the desert last night, and it's just been distracting me a bit, that's all. As for Father, I'll show him crazy. There's something I've been wanting to try out here, and now's as good a time as any. "

There was dim light from the distant fire and what light there was to be had in the very early morning. Trydian concentrated at his feet, and behind him. His ill-defined shadow seemed to become darker than the sand around it, pure black. It thickened and became three-dimensional, as he took a step toward his own head. Seeing his shadow not follow him was a sickening sensation, like the worst kind of vertigo, but he was getting more and more used to it. His pose was frozen on the ground beneath him as it had been when he took the first step. Stiff as a board, legs together, arms tucked at his side. The realization may well have struck Sebilla as to what he was thinking as he grinned a devilish grinned and yanked his sister toward him, embracing her close to his chest, as he concentrated on the slope before him. He imagined what it was he wanted to do...he would ride down on his own shadow at incredible speed.

Ha ha ha ha... The men in black were flooding his mind, and for a split second he saw the awkward plummeting of the brown-haired angel. Wind began to whip at his face, and in a panic he drew himself out of his hallucination. But it wasn't that he was imagining himself as Xavier, he was flying. As soon as he had imagined flight, his own shadow had acted like a springboard, swinging forward and launching him and his sister forward with just as awkward a trajectory as Xavier the previous night. Trydian yelled a muffled yell as he held tight to Sebilla, who held tight to their group's cloaks, which whipped him in the face. The set up and concentration it had taken to do this had allowed Caela and Bella to beat him there. Just as he managed to shake the cloak from his face, he caught a glimpse of Vylrath getting slapped in the face with a fish skeleton, and he managed laughter just before sand filled his vision.

He managed to roll over onto his back and take the brunt of the force there, to avoid Sebilla being injured. He slid a modest ten feet before he released Sebilla, pushing off her to slow her, before entering into an uncontrollable tumble that ended abruptly in a large pile of what could have been Barclay's tent, though it felt like the ruined stone that could be found nearly everywhere in this part of the area.

[Jen]

There was a yelp, a scream of panic, and a bark of laughter. Isabella looked up sharply to see two bodies flail into the sky briefly before sand exploded like a geyser. There was the muffled sound of bodies rolling across the earth and Sebilla tumbled gracefully to a halt at her mother's feet. Trydian, on the other hand, spun out of control like a fledgling hawk -- ending up in a far less graceful heap with stone, stick, and jungle vine tangled on him.

For the second time that day, in just as many minutes it felt like, Isabella pressed her hands to her face. She looked at Trydian and shook her hand, not really wanting to hear why he'd thrown himself down the hill. Caela was helping Sebilla to her feet and checking her for any bumps or broken bones, when she made sure there was nothing immediately wrong with the girl she nodded at Isabella. Bella in turn pointed at Trydian and wiggled her finger.

"Take care of your sister." Her eyes went immediately to the man, noticing for the first time his intent gaze. Heaven alone knew what he was thinking with that lewd expression. "Caela will you scout the perimeter?" The answer was a whisper of sound as the blonde took off.

"Vylrath, will you kindly quit waving your sword around like a madman and check the lake for clean water? If I'm not mistaken its not far from here." Bella looked pointedly at the fish on the ground at Vylrath's feet. "You should take your new friend, and pray he doesn't flay the flesh from your bones for being an imbecile and using manners."

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

It felt like flying, for about the span of a heartbeat. Then there was the falling, and the screaming, and the terror of the ground rushing up to meet her face.

Sebilla clung to her brother and the cloaks with all the vigor of her young sixteen year old self. She screamed and closed her eyes, burying her face in the cloaks and waiting to die. When they actually hit the ground the air was knocked out of her lungs but she was largely unhurt. She wasn't surprised, she realized, because Trydian would never let her get hurt. The thrill of the experience, however, was completely lost on her as Trydian landed with her in his arms.

Sebilla slid on her bum across the ground, landing sprawled at her mother's feet. Stunned and unable to breathe for a moment, she lay there and wondered if maybe she'd been eaten by a huge sandworm and dreamed what had just happened. After some embarrasing attention from her mother, however, she blushed and looked over at Trydian.

He looked just awful. It was as if he'd rolled in the dirt for a month and slept in the jungle too. Mother would make him bathe and he'd probably get cranky. A smile cracked the worried look on her face and she giggled. Trydian was just lucky that Mother had been worried, otherwise he'd have been whipped for sure.

It was then that she saw Barclay and she frowned. She didn't really like the way he looked at her and when her mother left, she was only capable of hiding herself partially behind her grandmother. Her eyes searched for Trydian's, the pretty silver irises pleading, almost afraid of the man sitting on the ground.

"Trydian!" Her voice was soft and young, and she was the only mortal human in the group of immortals. She was the only one in immediate danger of dying and she knew that.

[Vylrath]

He needed to be ruled by himself. It was time that he had become the King he was meant to become. If he was going to rebuild this land, these people following him, needed to know that he would inevitably rule over them. His own success would be their triumph, along with his own satisfaction. Right now, he was not satisifed with the happenings.

The stranger did not settle right with his mind. Obviously, the man had extrodinary powers that he was not letting them in on: he had seen it displayed so precariously.

Sebille, Trydian, had caught his attention. The human girl had always tugged at his mind and heart. The last human, so it seemed, was in the care of the Vuri. Her essence was so pure, that he could feel it crawl against his own skin.
He needed to do something with this pure child. Humans would not exist in his world. Vylrath could give a damn if Trydain was sought for protecting this rare gem.

Listening to Isabella, he only nodded to her barking commands. The sword was still at his side, readily usable.

“Come, friend. I mean you no harm. My insanity took over and I apologize. We have been wandering for days without any food or water. We eat the dead and the scent overcame my common sense.” How could he keep their nature from Barclay? It was obvious that they were not normal creatures.

“She was once Queen of this land…we are trying to rebuild this gutted ruin.” He motioned for Barclay to follow him toward the lake. “I’m sure we could use someone like you….if you cooperate.”

The lake created little stir in his curiousity, but now he was wondering if his tainted blood could tarnish the pure Earth. What would happen? Would it almost become as living essence? Would he feel nature itself?

“Isabella…keep Sebille hidden. We don’t know what else lurks out here since the destruction.”

Reaching the lake with Barclay, he purposely drew his sword and let it cut across his palm. The pain was naturally intense, but blood flowed at an easy rate. He wouldn’t faint from the loss, but actually be able to control his task.

[littlebean]

It still took awhile for Barclay to stand from his sitting position. The entire time he had been sitting upon their arrival, staring blanky at the ground and ignoring the company's shenanigans all together, responding only when appropriate, which was when he was spoken to. The appearance of the people falling from the sky into his tent, caught his attention, but only in a casual glance. Nothing seemed to surprise him or unsettle him, even the presence of the King and Queen hardly upset his nerves, as if he didn't give a damn, or didn't feel threatened. It was either a disturbing strong sense of confidence and sureness in his own abilities, or an equally unsettling inability to empathize with those around him and to respond to the happenings around him.

Heck maybe it was both, but he stood silently, following the so called king at his own good pace. He gave the man his time when he wasn't shouting threats at him. Following him to the lake, he was hardly interested in what he had to say, until the mention of what they are as food came to subject. The dead? What kind of dead, human, animals or otherwise? Their positions as rulers hardly interested him. There was doubt as to whether or not they really were kings and queens, their word wasn't enough. Rule over people usually needed sufficient evidence before anyone just bowed down to you, their word wasn't enough. Regardless, rebuilding the town certainly had it's benefits, aside from there being a city again it meant his money would be moving back into the city as well, so he would help him.

Before he could utter a word or inquire about the location of those dead, the man began to slice open his own hand. Finally Barclay spoke voluntarily. "Masochist?" He asked.

Offtopic: Sorry for the shittyness, working on earthquake report.