Misha stared in horror as Rose transformed but, when singer did not bolt immediately for the vast swamp surrounding them, she relaxed enough to breathe again. Being a wolf was clearly not something anyone wanted at this point yet... Rose seemed to be handling it well enough and the pretty, leggy woman who had been holding her hand seemed to take it in stride. Nonetheless, Misha moved forward quickly in case Rose might suddenly bolt.
She had barely made it three feet, though, when she paused and swayed in place. Misha wrinkled her nose. Something in the air caught her attention. Something sweet and warm and caught between the light perfume of flowers and the heavy musk of animals. She closed her eyes. Absently, her tongue slipped out to wet her lips.
Maybe she could sleep. Maybe they could all sleep. They had all been working so hard and going non-stop for so long. They all deserved a break. Misha felt her muscles relax and loosen as she stood there, simply focusing on inhaling and exhaling. She wondered if she could find Brian and Beth and convince them to join her in a snuggly, cuddly pile for a nap. Maybe Briiva or Tara or Edward or Rob or Mercy, too?
Oh, hell, anyone who wanted to join the lovely puppy pile in her head was welcome!
Suddenly, she frowned to herself. That seemed wrong. Not the concept, per se, but the timing. Misha forced herself to re-open her eyes and tried to focus on her surroundings. They were all out here to do something and it was not to take a nap. Voices cut through her mental fog. She reached out to them with growing desperation.
Misha!
Where's Misha?
Cursing volubly in Arabic, Misha shook her head to rid herself of the fog and brought her hands up to scrub over her face. That Circe was pushing things a bit too far! First her body and now trying to take over her mind? With renewed determination, she strode forward to find her friends, the ones who had called for her. The lingering confusion evaporated in the face of her annoyance. This was a bridge too far and she felt like burning it down to the ground.
While Sidney wasn’t terribly invested in putting herself in harms way, she was interested in getting this Circe chick taken care of so the lot of them could go home. She didn’t much like being turned into an animal and it left her with no qualms about taking this woman down. When the senior chosen gathered them all together to take on the estate where she was supposedly hiding, Sid had grimly armed herself and fallen in with the group, her bow held at the ready in her hand.
Moving stealthily through the woods wasn’t really one of her skills, but she picked up easily enough on the short lessons Olivia gave them. At least she wasn’t making a terrible racket at she moved, and she didn’t get separated. Everything seemed to be going more or less right until they left the trees for a field and a sudden strong smell wafted to their noses.
Sid’s wrinkled and she tugged her camisole up, pressing it over her face to muffle the weird smell. It wasn’t… bad, but… the more she breathed it, the harder it was for focus, and harder to keep moving. It made her feel… tired. Like, if she could just sit down for a bit, she’d be fine… But catching herself eyeing the greenery, Sid shook herself out of the strange feeling, her lips twisting in a grimace.
“That’s some mother ******** Oz poppy field bullshit…” She grumbled as she looked around at the others and trudged on.
Quote:
Character Name:Sidney James Brief description of character: Reluctant Chosen of Apollo, Sid is more interested in partying and making music than being a warrior. Upbeat and bright most of the time, she's also a bit selfish and unlikely to go out of her way for people she doesn't know.
Deity: Apollo Weapon: Bow (6 base damage) HP: 47 Minicert:
Posted: Thu Oct 20, 2016 7:06 pm
When he saw Beth running toward him, Brian held out his arms to Beth. It was reflex. He had to reassure himself that everyone had their friends, but really it wasn't fair to go looking for just to. Rafe had been a bear, after all. Tara had been a wolf. Briiva had been a tiger. He had his friends, though, and like it or not he was biased.
Finally Beth reached him. He allowed her to take his arm and reached over with his free hand to place it over hers. Good. Good. He patted her hand.
"I don't know." Hopefully not a cat again, because that change back had been a little stressful. He had his shirt back, though, luckily.
Beth called for Sylvia. Yes, Sylvia! Lex? He tried to pick the others out of the crowd fumbling through the grass. He touched Sylvia's arm and motioned a "come here quickly" to Lex, but who knew if it'd have any effect? Chosen were going down and turning again, and that may or may not be a bad thing. He'd thought that they were free of this all. What if they had to chase everyone down again?!
Yekaterin
ShortGreen
Mika_Yumi
little
Shaddaling
mentions!
Character Name:Brian Watterly Brief description of character: A passionate, competent leader-type with a bit of difficulty expressing the emotions he feels. Deity: Zeus Weapon: Bow (balanced ranged) HP: 47/47 Minicert:
Rob hadn't had much call for being stealthy in the past, but if ever a situation called for him to learn, this was it. He cautiously snuck with the others through the woods, not far behind Sid, whose rainbow hair stood out amongst the deep twilight of the Louisiana evening. He was very glad she was alright now and back to herself; it would have upset him deeply if they hadn't been able to turn her back into a human again.
The gathered Chosen came to the edge of the woods and saw the big manor house in the distance. A path led to it, through what appeared to be a green field. It looked harmless enough to Rob, but after everything they'd been through on this trip, he knew better.
Following the others down the path, a strange heady scent wafted around him. He couldn't identify what it was, but it reminded him of how the glass of beer that Dionysus had handed him back in the bar had tasted: intoxicating and amazing. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, taking in the scent. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to just lie down in the greenery and let it envelop him…
He shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. This was obviously some kind of trick, more of Circe's magic. He would have to be more careful, more watchful.
Character Name:Robin Attewood Brief description of character: Rob is a dreadlocked punk who's secretly a Boy Scout, a grump with a heart of gold. Pugnacious, fiercely independent and "on" all the time, he loves wine, women and song and is the biggest beer snob on the planet. Deity: Dionysus Weapon: Greatsword HP: 50
This was it: the final showdown. After weeks of an underlying panic of being turned into an animal, only to be lost and forgotten, it was time for this all to end. Thankfully, he managed to make it through without his form changing once, but that was largely due to his distrust of everyone and everything around him for the duration of his time in these backwoods. Now it was the endgame. Of course, things wouldn't be easy and it didn't take the group long to realize that it would be riddled with traps. It was time to put his military training to good use.
He moved forward onto the breach when an odor overpowered him. The smell was intoxicating, distracting in its inviting scent. He felt himself slowing down, his strides and hurdles as he moved through the pathway growing shorter and sluggish. Perhaps the battle could wait for him to rest. No.
He won't fail. This is what he trained for. He needed to keep pushing himself. He inhaled deeply and focused, refusing to let the toxins warp his brain. He pounded a fist to his chest to jolt him awake and let out a screaming battle cry as he ran forward into the clear.
[ If you roll a 10+, you fight off the urge to lie in the greenery, passing through the trap unscathed. ]
Songtao told herself it was like playing games at home with her sister. Be quiet as you can, sneak up on the other. It was hard in the dark, in a strange place. She picked her way through delicately, trying to both keep an eye on following whomever was in front of her (rainbow-haired girl, Song forgot her name, Cynthia?) and not tripping over anything simultaneously. Frankly, this area was creepy. The swamp they had camped in before was unpleasant, but now she had the heebie-jeebies. Heebie-jeebies enough to make her tired from the stress, or so she thought. She wanted a cigarette, something to keep her awake. Her feet started to drag, catching occasionally on the dense undergrowth. Just when she thought she'd trip and fall on her face for sure, she stumbled into a slight clearing, and suddenly didn't feel sleepy in the least.
She looked around, startled. So far no magic had touched her directly, but she suddenly realized that she had narrowly missed being affected by some sort of spell. And that scared her.
He normally was okay with the bayou, even liked it a bit because he liked Louisiana, but Zebulon had just about had it with these person-animals and these ridiculous teenagers and these cures and most importantly not being at home. He really wasn't as adventurous as he might have been even just ten years ago, and he was perfectly fine with that.
Unfortunately, there was a Witch Queen of Crazy Animals standing in the way of his ability to get back home, and they would have to deal with her and her mossy growths first before they could finally leave.
Zebulon sighed, following along slowly towards the back of the group, not really inclined to keep himself near the front at the moment (he didn't want to get attacked, thanks). Being towards the back kept him less occupied. It allowed him to more easily slide into slowing down, his eyes fluttering closed. He didn't really need to go home, did he? He was already there. This was Louisiana, after all. This bed was so relaxing. He could just stay here and everything would be fine--
Wait, this wasn't a bed.
His eyes flew open and he caught himself before he was fully lulled into laying in the growth. What was he doing?
Stupid Witch Queen.
Character Name:Zebulon Castaneda Brief description of character: Zebulon accompanies his even temper and clear mind with an oft-frustrating tendency to be snarky even in the most serious moments, needling people far past the point he should. Tagging along is a need for control, tempered by the fact that he does usually know what he's talking about. His normal ease seems lessened at current, though his control over himself is back now that he's removed enough from the conflict with the metal vulture.
Briiva followed behind the group, shouldering both her bag and her bow, treading with a lightness that she had not had before her brief stint as a large feline predator. She was rather glad that everything in her pack seemed to be alright, mostly her laptop. It was yet one more incident to add in to her reasoning to purchase a Toughbook in the first place. With only a slight smirk, she thought about how she could probably use the thing as a blunt weapon fairly effectively, had she the mind to.
She made sure to look up from the ground and tear herself away from her thoughts occasionally, having no desire to get caught unawares. She saw the grassy knoll, but the pleasantly lush grass seemed to hold no sway over her, at least for the time being. That could very well be chalked up to how uncomfortable Briiva's feet where, her boots had been all but destroyed and she had to resort to a backup pair that happened to be much less rugged. Nonetheless she pushed on, doing her best to take in the scenery for good ambush areas and places predators might be hiding in.
Her time as a tiger did give her an interesting perspective into the mind of a more primal predator, an experience that she had actually enjoyed quite a bit. Truth be told, she missed it a little. After all, her current small frame was hardly intimidating.
Posted: Thu Oct 20, 2016 9:42 pm
Not long after his answer to Beth, Brian felt a hand touch his other arm. He turned to see Misha standing there. She offered a lopsided smile. "Can we just take care of this and go home now?" she asked with a dramatic, plainative note in her voice.
She gave his forearm a quick squeeze but then she released him and moved to Beth's other side. She tangled fingers with the other woman before winking. "Feel like Dorothy yet?" Her voice went a bit high and overly bright. "Poppies, poppies, poppies."
Misha rolled her eyes. "Come on. Let's finish this."
If you roll a 10+, you fight off the urge to lie in the greenery, passing through the trap unscathed.
Mal would have been lying if he had said he wasn't glad to see their instructors up and around again. Olivia was like all of the truly elegant women he had ever known-- they were comfortable in whatever they were wearing, because the garment that required the most confidence was their own skin and they already had that.
It helped, a little, despite his crawling sensation that this was probably not the greatest idea.
A full frontal assault only worked if you had overwhelming numbers or superior weaponry; Mal already knew their weaponry was inferior (steel versus magic?), and he had a feeling they weren't superior numerically, either.
But he still had three cures in his pocket and Misha was a human again, everyone was human again, thankfully, so he could at least pretend not to be as unhappy about this as he was. Given a choice, well -- would killing the witch end the spell? If it would, he'd have pulled out and had someone set the whole place on fire. Drop a tree here, drop a tree there and some more fire and they could have controlled the way people spilled out of the house-- if it was even a house.
He was thinking these things, and about how the house didn't look like a house-- it looked like the rotten bones of some great beast, covered in greenery and waiting for them-- when they crossed the field of green growth. A couple of strides took him deep into it before his attention waved and he took a deep breath of --
Mal didn't know what it was. Heady, a little like a whiff of some strong liquor, only not meant to inflame but to soothe. You could fall asleep to a smell like that...
His knees weakened and the drop jolted him awake. He blinked down at the greenery with his glasses barely hanging onto the tip of his nose and forced himself to take a step forward. And another. And more, until he'd crossed the dangerous dank growth and could breathe deeply of the regularly putrid swamp air...
Lex shifted, catching movement outside their eye and turned before waving cheerfully at Beth. Welll, might as well join them. They sighed and trotted over, shifting to settled next to Beth and ooh, Hi Misha.
"Mmhm, I am all for going home." Lex shifted, and sighed. He still had cures on him if they were needed. "Everyone okay, so far?"
How Ed had managed to get himself separated from the group yet again, he wasn't sure. One moment sitting at a camp fire, the next racing through the surrounding swamp brush on the heels of a fellow chosen turned furry. It hadn't been ideal, not in the least, but it had been necessary. It wasn't as if they could just let one of their own disappear, not if there was a chance they cold change them back, somehow.
It had taken a long time to find his way back, and once he had it seemed things were taking off, again. People were mobilizing, a cure had apparently been found, and those that had been animals were once again walking around on two feet.
Not terribly pleased with the situation, but at least conscious this time around, Edward fell into line with the rest of them, following as they were lead towards the source, the culprit. Circe. Through the swamp, towards some large, old house. A plantation, by the looks of it. Over grown and wild looking.
His fellow chosen were slowing, stopping, and there was the annoyed twist of pale brows a second or two before he realized why. Or rather, found himself equally effected. The sense of purpose that had been there a moment before was gone, replaced by an air of peace and calm, and over it all, lethargy. His limbs felt heavy, his eye lids drooped, and it was a challenge just to stay on his feet, especially as his fellow chosen started to drop around him.
But they couldn't stop here, there was something they needed to do. Somewhere they were going...the house...
Ed blinked blearily, unfocused, as he caught sight of a familiar face, then another one. Misha, climbing back to her feet, struggling onward. And Asher. Chosen after chosen fighting off the blanket of magic and moving forward again. Circe. They had to get to Circe, to put a stop to all this.
Shaking off the fatigue, literally, the ex-bouncer took a step forward, then another one, following along with the others, those that were moving forward. Those that weren't changing. Changing? There were animals among them, large and small.
Moving quicker, the Ares moved through the crowd until he could reach out to lay a hand on Misha's shoulder.
Mathilda kept an eye on her surroundings, slowly following the Chosen in front of her. It was good to see everyone turned back, but just in case she had her remaining two cures on her, one in her leg holster then other in her bra. Her dagger was in her hands, and she was idly playing with it. After a bit, Mathilda scrunched her nose up at the smell surrounding her. She had been frustrated enough with this stupid swamp, but this smell was the icing on the cake.
Walking a bit behind everyone else, she felt her body sway, slowly crumpling toward the ground. She's on one knee before she knows it, and reaching for her heart. Her blanks for a second, before it catches up and realizes that something is in the air. Pushing herself off the ground, she looked at the other Chosen. No one seemed to have turned, at least those she could see, but it appeared that they were getting close. Standing up, she reaffirmed her possessions and began to move forward, one hand covering her nose. She didn't know if whatever is in the air worked through smell or taste, but for now, she would play it safe and cover her nose.
