|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sat Aug 11, 2012 5:14 pm
The witch nodded sympathetically, as she offered him a pat on his elbow. Vaguely she wondered if that little bump she had found on the top of his head were stitches, and without even really thinking about it, one hand reached up to ruffle his hair. Just maybe she'd find it again and get to ask him about it! She was a rather curious creature, after all. Unfortunately for her though, he seemed intent to otherwise question her parent's lack of approval of him. Which, to be blunt, wasn't fair because if they were being honest with each other, Belladonna's parents rarely approved of anything she did. Actually... Had she ever explained all that to Mort? Huh... "Tolerably well is much better than most of their reactions." Here Belladonna placed a hand against his chest and fixed him with a warm smile that also said he was in for a story. "You must understand, darling. My parents... Have high expectations of me. In magical families, especially witches, the youngest tends to have the most power. Each generation succeeds the next and each grows stronger with time. So even though in my family there are cousins who are younger, for Alasteir Divine (that's my Papa!), the strongest of the family is the youngest. And that's me!" Here the witch beamed a bit, excited to tell him a little bit more about her family, her life. It was a little strange, being so open like this. But it felt nice too, to be able to share all this with someone who cared. "Because of this, my parents always encouraged me to do my best and pushed me harder than either Delphinium or Hemlock. That's why I've left school so much and come back so much. I had that option. My sisters wouldn't have... They would have been forced to stay."Honestly, it meant that Belladonna was a bit spoiled. They let her have her way so long as it meant results. As of yet, there hadn't been any... Not really. "But it also meant that they had certain goals in mind for me. Because I'm supposedly the strongest, it meant that I didn't have to go into the family business. I could be my own witch. But for that, they wanted me to at least contribute and apparently my parents only think I'll make an excellent trophy wife and suppose I should marry rich." Now Belladonna's smile soured and her eyebrows quirked angrily. It wasn't fair that they assumed that of her. It wasn't fair that she at once got to be the prized daughter of the Divines, but also the one expected to be won solely for her looks. "Of course that's preposterous and something I certainly won't adhere to. Because my parents viewed me as powerful they let me get away with quite a lot. Like wearing pink and bringing home new pets and dating boys they may or may not approve of." Errr, maybe she wasn't really soothing his worries after all? Best to move on to the next subject! "They own a very popular magic store! Its a chain now, but basically our store sells potions, charms, any sort of spell casting one could think of as well as easy to complete spells! We hit it big with the Do-It-Yourself Spells that have all the magic already done, you just have to activate it!"Even though she didn't always get along with her family, even though her parents wanted different things for her, they were still her family. She still loved them and took pride in what they did. Belladonna just didn't want to be a part of it, or be expected to save the business when it certainly didn't need saving. Ol-j-man Whoops, Bells got chatty. Sorry for the WALL OF PINK. D:
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 11, 2012 5:45 pm
For some reason, hearing that "tolerably well" was better than their usual reactions didn't comfort him much either.
Mort listened intently as she explained the mechanics, never having had a deep (or even shallow) understanding of magic, let alone how that influenced the families who wielded them. It tore him on two sides: On the one, he was glad that as a zombie he never real had to worry about impressing others based on some power he might or might not have been born with; on the other, he remembered how Ramona would sometimes treat him like a pet project and never set her expectations higher than average, for she wanted her baby boils to always succeed in her eyes. In some other life, maybe this need to prove himself would have been curbed by the limitations of magic and the social pressure that came with it, stopping him from being so bold to make the same decisions he did. Or maybe it would have exacerbated his tenacious need to keep forward and brought him more doom quicker for his efforts. Mrr . . . Magic as science . . . What fantastical things could have been wrought with that mystical power . . .?
He hadn't meant to turn inward as was his wont nowadays, yet the silence might have stretched a bit too thin after her explanation as he contemplated overly much the uses of magic. Then abruptly the zomboil shook himself of his idle conjectures and hastily tried to mend the gaping hole he had accidentally left in the conversation, cursing his newfound obsession with power theoretical and otherwise. Belladonna's soured expression caught him off guard (had she noticed his trance pause?) before he mentally caught up on the conversation. "I-I, uh . . . Sounds like too much to put on shoulders," Mort agreed, not bothered by the fact that her parents' leniency had allowed the relationship to continue. "Still stand by what said while back: Powerful or not, is still person, not plaything."
Still, he was curious about her prowess. Beyond tarot readings, Mort didn't know the grasp of magic his ghoulfriend had, and if she planned on joining the fight without him worrying every minute, he had to know her level of competence. "Was wondering, though, what sort've magic d'you know?" he asked, resuming the action of teasing his fingers through her curls and adding with a nervous laugh, "Would, ah, like to know if should expect fireballs i-if make you mad."
He also remembered how she had touched upon the hidden stitch above his brow, hidden by his hair; probably had found it when he had laid in her lap earlier. Rather than ask if she was intrigued (it was easy to assume), Mort lifted a hand to the suture near his temple and, with a little knowing grin, lifted his cranial top just enough to let her glimpse the brain housed within, a green spark or two arcing across the coiled organ. The soft humming that normally emanated from him increased ever so slightly.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 11, 2012 7:35 pm
Unfortunately for Belladonna, she still hadn't fine tuned her mind reading skills, so there was no way for her to hear what all Mort was thinking. But to say she was interested, given his thoughtful expression certainly cured her own sour one and was instead replaced with something border lining concerned curiosity. After a few more moments of silence, Belladonna blinked owlishly and piped up with a small, "What about you? What's your family like?" Of course she hoped he understood she meant 'In the same regard of what they expect of you', but she wasn't sure he got that. But he was a smart boy, so she let it go. Hopefully it would give her a bit of insight as to how Ms. McNeal would feel about Belladonna. 'Of course' wasn't a very good reply. It meant so many things! Most likely it meant that 'Of course you're dating that brazen hussy, she'll date anything'. Which was not only rude to Belladonna, but horrible to Mort! It meant his own mother didn't think he was worth very much. That thought made Belladonna rather sad, but she knew it was wrong. Mort was worth so much! It could have meant 'Of course, you had her in your room and you never introduce me to ghouls!', in a positive way... But of what the witch knew, she didn't figure that one. There wasn't much more time to consider anything else as Mort reminded her of her own worth (and of which he was rewarded with a bashful, but proud smile and a small 'Thank you'), as well as questioned over her powers. "Ooohh! I know all kinds of magic! Intuitive, basic levitation, elemental, charms and hexes. Not necessarily very good at them, but I know them..." Though she didn't always attend her classes, she at least did quite a lot of studying on her own. "You don't have to worry about me lobbing fireballs at you if I'm angry. I don't much like fire to begin with, and my aim... Fluctuates." Here Belladonna's shoulders slumped visibly and she huffed a sigh that caused her bangs to momentarily lift off her forehead. "I... I am certain somewhere instead me is power... But.... I've never really activated it before. I'm a fairly adept fighter, and my magic does at least work... But... " She averted her eyes, retracted her hand to cross over her chest and almost shrink in on herself. "I've spent my life preparing my parents for the eventual disappointment that I'm not what they want me to be."But the curiosity of knowing what was on his head distracted the witch after a few moments enough that she sat up on her knees quiet excitedly. A gleeful "OOOHHHH!" excited her mouth as she leaned forward to inspect Mort's brain. With wide eyes she watched the sparks arc across his brain, too excited to even realize her bosom had collided with his neck.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 11, 2012 8:38 pm
"Well, still is growing, still has much to learn. S'not like second year means master." Thank Jack fire was not immediately in her arsenal, though; not that Mort believed he would ever get in a situation that would make her call for it, but . . . fire. Any of it in any capacity made him a touch nervous regardless of the wielder. He knew the bite of burns far too well, having been torched by both Halloweener and Hunter alike.
He had only a few seconds to ponder over the other branches of magic she knew and what they entailed before he felt the lovely but flustering pressure of the ladies against him, halting all trains of thought to a grinding halt. The humming grew louder in proportion to his growing self-consciousness, and with an imperceptible thud he shut his cranial top before his ghoulfriend got zapped by a stray bolt from the build up in energy. Steeling himself from any all-too-natural impulse, Mort gently and firmly pressed the witch back down and away to where she had been sitting, issuing a soft sigh with the moment past him. "B-Be careful," he admonished as he let go of her shoulders, feeling tingles all over from the surplus of electricity. Then he cleared his throat and moved on to what he had meant to say before the interruption of mixed feelings, hoping that as he spoke and focused on something else that his brain would calm down.
"Mrrr. You s-sorta met Mom, Ramona - er, one've 'faces' of Mom should say. Has many faces for many occasions. Had to: used to be in modeling, so had to cultivate different tactics to keep up with hard glaring light've public relations. Wasn't, ah, big name or anything, but was called for product placement s-sometimes back in day. She has stack've all volumes she's in n' then some: psych, sex, politics, teen stuff." Mort rubbed the back of his neck almost sheepishly. "Is what started me reading, actually; never really did with first mom. Had scareling books, sure, but . . . wasn't exactly little scareling by time she adopted. Had mind of ten year old. Totally adult, eh? But wanted to read all the things Mom was in, so over course of couple years I did.
"Wasn't modeling by time of adoption, 've course, is now a receptionist of fashion magazine Rogue. Think she's alright with job, but also think she misses glory days. Hasn't left her: still walks with poise n' acts like camera could be watching her, always careful with what d-does or says." He paused, pondered over a piece of information, then decided to leak it with feigned, casual indifference. "Went through bad period when I was almost twelve. What was term for it . . . "midlife crisis"? Tried flouncing herself around men, made some bad purchases, things like that. Eventually died down when realized could barely make next payment for school at time. Is probably why she's guarded n' overprotective now - out of guilt.
"Which was where receptionist job came from. After some time she decided I needed little brother, so Gregory came. N' you met him for sure," Mort said with a little grin, skipping over the fact that her reasoning behind a brother despite the seeds situation had been because she thought he was too lonely, spending so much time on the computer as he did. "N' it, ah . . . sorta panned out from there. Now she dates Zak for, what, year now? Almost." He shrugged, twiddling his thumbs. "In both families have known, never had father figure. Not sure if would like one now."
He paused here, giving his throat time to recover from speaking so much at once, and then added just a bit more in a softer tone. "Shouldn't say disappointment, Bells. So what if not what parents expected? You have goals, yes? It might not be same as theirs, but should still mean something to them."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 11, 2012 9:25 pm
That was true, but... Still. It was difficult to grow up with expectations and continually fail to meet them, no matter how little one cared about them. Belladonna still huffed another sigh, but did offer him a small smile with a nonchalant shrug. Her fascination with his brain only heightened as the humming increased, but Belladonna didn't have much more time to inspect it as he lowered her back to sitting. For a moment she was disappointed, but the chill disappearing on her chest indicated otherwise. "Sorrriiieeee...." She mumbled, her eyes downcast. Really, she couldn't do a thing properly in this relationship, now could she? Angst angst angst~ Yet story time distracted her enough that she was able to concentrate on that instead, and Belladonna nodded at all the appropriate times. It was interesting to hear about his family, especially Ms. McNeal. She sounded like someone not to mess with, but also someone without check. It was certainly a dangerous combination. And what with her modeling career, that definitely gave her the edge that Belladonna had noticed during their meeting. But had that meant that she wore a 'face' around Belladonna? She probably hated the witch in that case... But more importantly, it was vastly interesting to hear about Mort! "Is that why you're so into science and technology? Because you read so many different things?" At the mention of Rogue, Belladonna clasped her hands together and made an appreciative sound that belied how much she actually love the magazine. Maybe if she could become friends with Ramona, she could introduce her to some of the people who worked on? Help the witch get into designing? Oh, what a dream that would be! As for everything else, that was strange, but nothing the witch really wanted to question the boil over. What she really wanted to know, she also didn't want to know. Not with everything that had happened today and recently, but Hecate, she was dying to find out. What had happened with Mort and his first mother? For a moment, Belladonna bit her lip and really considered it. It couldn't hurt to ask... Actually, it probably could. He'd already experienced so much pain already, had gone through more when Belladonna disagreed with him, that it was most likely best to not even bring it up. "I've heard that its much better to have role models rather than father figures." Was what she finally settled on, accompanied with a small nod. "They're better at teaching you how to handle situations than a parent. You look up to the role model, like what they do where one's parents can sometimes teach the wrong thing. Roles models usually don't!" What were you saying, that sounded so stupid~ Blargh, this was not going well. "I think I have goals... Everyday I want to do something else. Today I want to design clothing, tomorrow I want to be a Trick or Treater, the next day I want to plan parties... It keeps changing." She confessed, her eyebrows drawn up in worry. "You're lucky... You know what you want."Hopefully part of it includes me...Ol-j-man Mort word vomit is a treat! biggrin
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 11, 2012 10:13 pm
Patting her cheek in response to the apology, Mort looked pensive for a few moments and let out an involuntary "mrrr" as he digested her other words. An image of Callista was brought to mind at the mention of "role models", tanned and with wiry arms from her years at the forge, loud rock music blaring in her ears, a hammer in one gloved hand and a red hot piece of metal in the other. This was the woman that, in his youth, had been seen about as frequently as his mother, who had coaxed him to speak up in spite of his awful speech problem and heard him out anyway. He wondered how she had spent his savings and hoped to Jack Priam hadn't gotten one damn seed.
"Have one," he said, blinking back into reality. "Callista. Should m-meet sometime. But, er . . . didn't really have male model beyond who I liked in media. More likely in books. Or games." Distant figures with lives that didn't touch his, but whose fortunes had been attractive to read about nevertheless.
Saying it aloud like that, though, it sounded pathetic. But then, what could someone with as awful social skills as him do beyond seeking the solace of fiction, where he could pretend to be someone else and somewhere else entirely? At least, that was how his scareling self had reasoned. Come to think of it, a lot of what his scareling self had done could be labeled pathetic; he didn't even put forth the effort to make friends outside his house, preferring the interweb instead. It was shocking to him, upon reviewing his time at Amityville, how fast he had made friends. It was almost bittersweet, knowing how easy it could have been.
More conjecture, more inner brooding. He really ought to stop doing that in pleasant company.
Asked about the origin of his interests, Mort shook his head a little. "Sort of. Reading about it came later. First started more as hobby between adoptions. Wasn't lot to do, so if not reading or sleeping I'd bug caretakers for o-oddjobs. Was older computer there for sign ins n' stuff that gave 'em trouble, so would help with that." Here he smiled. "Got rewarded with Gameboil color after a while. First time had video games, so could imagine number've hours spent on it; think killed battery twice. Liked them so much, e-eventually picked it apart to see how worked. Always put together again before others saw, but so many small parts made kind've mess that was hard for cleaning up. One day got caught n' yelled at - said other kids might pick up n' choke on pieces - but they never took it away; think they knew how much I liked it too. It's funny, though, because thought Gameboil was literally magic back then . . ."
The smile lingered as he recollected those ancient events of the past, blurry from time, but eventually it began to fade at her assertion. "Mrrr . . . Wouldn't say know what I want. Know what has, know what I like about what has, b-but otherwise not so sure. Can't even decide career path yet even as third year." Mort made a face. "Never was good about sticking to one thing. Worse at thinking about future. Always made excuses, or always had something happen to distract from thinking about it. Now? . . . Now have Hunters n' Horsemen to contend with. Makes things more confusing, brings level of lethargy when it comes to career goals. Now just want to survive."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 11, 2012 11:45 pm
Unaccustomed to the sudden affection, Belladonna tilted her head a bit more into his hand and waited. His continually thoughtful faces intrigued her, but not enough to question him on them. And its not like he was necessarily keeping them from her, anyways. In a few moments he answered and the witch perked up to hear about his role model. "What's Callista like?" She asked with a small bounce. Maybe it was boring to just sit around and chat about their lives, but some boring was Jack sent after such torment and anguish. "Books are fine for role models. Not everyone is lucky enough to be out in society. Even though the Divines are pretty socially known, we still keep to ourselves. I only ever had books too." Listening to his stories, the witch couldn't help but chuckle lightly. She hadn't been aware of his time in the orphanage, even though she really should have assumed that. "Were you there long?" She asked, in reference to his time "between adoptions". It was strange to ask, but it was something she figured they'd have to discuss eventually. Hopefully it wasn't too intrusive, but even if it was Mort would find the most polite response to her that still meant 'Shut up about that'. As for the future and what they wanted, a bolt of fear licked through Belladonna. He didn't stick to one thing? Oh... Did that... Just apply to hobbies? Or people too? Though she tried to keep from showing it, Belladonna still wilted a little at that and let out a small, nervous laugh. "What about science? You're really great at building, you could do something like that!" Another disconcerting laugh. "I'm sure one day you'll find something that you'll love and you'll want to stick with that for the rest of your life!" Errrr, no. Stop that. Shut up. Shut your mouth. Yet at the his mention of just surviving, she placed a hand on his arm and gave a soft squeeze. "You'll survive. You're strong and intelligent, and very brave. You'll be just fine. Plus I'll be here to help! So there's no way you won't make it out alive!"At least, that's what Belladonna always told herself. Not everyone did, so they would be lucky if the two of them made it from Amityville unscathed. It wasn't impossible, just highly unlikely.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 12, 2012 12:18 am
"Callista? She's the one who helped make Thor," Mort replied with more than a hint of pride. "Best metalworker I know. V-Very, ah, tough love sort've person who likes loud music n' being in charge, but think she has soft spot for me."
He had to stop and think about his time spent in the orphanage, his eyes lifting to count invisible numbers in the air. "Mrr . . . Spent . . . Six months? Ish?" It was a ballpark estimate as Mort hadn't really paid attention to the passage of time after a while; it had been hard to with more pressing matters on his mind, like the idea that his original mother had left him there to get a better "model", so to speak. Days had blurred together until the only distinction had been between weekday and weekend.
He opened his mouth to clarify that he knew what he was good at and was just not so sure about its application, but the strange peal in her laughs gave him pause. What was that about? Even as Bells gave his arm a comforting squeeze, Mort gave her a strange look, not so much accusing as it was a little suspicious; he'd hung around the witch long enough to identify those funny high-pitched sounds as something akin to warning bells. For what, he wasn't sure. But he was sure he hadn't imagined it.
"Hopefully," he said simply but sincerely, letting off the look as he patted her back. "Doing good job've it so far, surviving. Much easier knowing have help." Though if she had voiced the part about leaving unscathed, Mort would have pointed out how it was too late for him. He cleared his throat out, noting how dry it had gotten. "Er . . . Sorry for dominating conversation like that, Bells. N-Not used to talking so much."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 12, 2012 10:57 am
Belladonna nodded quickly at the mention of Callista, her eyes wide to know more about the people he looked up to. "What kind of metal working does she do? What is she? How did you meet her?" Normally, a pang of guilt would course through the witch, but not now. Not for this. Maybe if he spoke of another female friend who shared similar interests, or even similar experiences (Oh Hecate, what if he knew a ghoul who was always with him on the trips?), but this was something much more. This was admiration. And that wasn't threatening at all. As for his time in the orphanage, Belladonna would rather let that one drop. The silence that permeated those conversations was starting to stretch out a bit, so she figured it was best to let them be. Six months was an awfully long time, especially when one had been with a parent beforehand. The witch had never been to an orphanage, or anything close to it, so she couldn't even pretend to sympathize. Everything in her life had been cobwebs and dead roses, certainly a far cry from what Mort experienced. And given what they had spoken of oh so recently, the witch figured it was best to stop pestering her boyfriend about all the anguish and hurt feelings in his life. Sure, she wanted to shine for him and be his light... But not only had he not actually agreed to that, it wasn't as though she could shine for the things already past. They were done, completed, their cycles spent. There was absolutely no point in trying to make him feel better about something he had mostly likely forgotten. As for the look he gave her, Belladonna washed her face with an innocent smile and a shrug as though to say 'Whatever is the matter, darling dearest pumpkin of mine?'. Already she was putting too much on this relationship, already she was expecting so much. Just because the previous ones hadn't worked out didn't mean that this one would go the same. But it certainly would if she didn't ease up a little. Things weren't supposed to be so serious, so quickly. This was supposed to easy, fun and natural. Inwardly the witch gave herself a smart smack on the wrist for her actions thus far, but outwardly she only gave Mort a smile and a nod of encouragement. "Its ok! I like hearing you talk... Usually I'm the one who's blabbering on like anything, but its nice to change it up every so often!" She paused, and when she began again her voice was a little softer, a little sweeter. "I like to think it means you trust me... That you can tell me things because you want me to be a part of your life too."Ol-j-man Yaaaay~ I had to pick the ghost, because obvi. XD
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 12, 2012 11:31 am
"Used to temp at smithy n' junk collector place called Highpoint. Well, more like was page n' arrange boil," he amended with a quirk of his mouth. "Worked under satyr named Elias Priam who manned counter. Callista's a peryton - er, carnivore deer with wings - n' his wife. Works forge. Never was really busy place, yet always had something to do."
Questions, questions, questions. Not that Mort didn't mind divulging some information, but her probing upset the scraps of mystery he still wanted to keep. After all, he assumed, ghouls would get bored if they knew about every aspect of their boilfriends, however minor or seemingly inconsequential. And boredom led to passionless relationships. And passionless relationships led to break ups. He really, really didn't want to be alone in this stage of life.
Then again, Mort supposed grimly as he rubbed his right hand, he was already cultivating new secrets to keep with his work as an Initiate. Jack knew what those would lead to.
But the witch was right, he realized. He wouldn't have bothered talking so much if he didn't feel comfortable with her. "Mrrr. Intuition," he said with a warm smile in return, the dark thoughts banished to the back of his mind once more. "Serves well. In lieu of strange times n' differed opinions i-is hard to place trust, but . . . I do." And he punctuated the thought with a kiss on her brow, wary that any lower would spark sexual tension once more, keeping his forehead pressed against hers as he grinned down at Bells. "So . . . your vampire ghoul is still waiting if you're interested."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 12, 2012 12:04 pm
Silly Mort, he should speak up about what he was thinking more often that way Belladonna could tell him there is a vast difference between being bored with someone, and liking them so much that the other person wanted to know every stupid detail of their life. Maybe Belladonna wasn't quite at that stage yet, but she did want to know more about the zombie before her. He's always been a bit mysterious and shy, but now that things were getting worse... Now that life had become something far darker than either of them were prepared for... Well, Belladonna just wanted to know what could make him happy. If there were a few things she could do to help, even if they were small, she would do them without hesitation. And if were to give a certain metal worker a call to give the boil a peptalk, Belladonna would certainly keep that handy bit of information, thank you very much. A bright smile was his reward for placing his trust in her, and just as the witch was about to give him a kiss, he beat her to the punch. She let out a small squeak of delight, but looked up at him as he mentioned the lockers again. Belladonna took a deep breath and clenched her hands together. "Oh my Hecate, yes! My poor, poor Melusine..." Her sentence had begun excited, but drifted off into sadness rather quickly. With scuttling movements, the witch shifted off her bed, took two steps way then whirled around and jumped back to place on excited kiss to Mort's mouth. Then she really darted off in search of something. After a few moments of rummaging she turned up with a messenger bag all black and covered with pink ribbons, more black and a few pins. (Namely ones the purported the importance of eating vegetarian with cute minipets.) Belladonna tossed the bag onto her shoulder and turned to Mort, her eyebrows set and the tiniest smile on her face. "Lead the way, my valiant captain!"One hand reached out toward him, to lead her and give her a bit of strength in this certain to be trying time.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 12, 2012 12:36 pm
Mort watched her dart about with a grin as he slid his gloves back on; it just wouldn't do to announce his affiliation with the horsemen when it was apparent at least a select group wasn't a big fan of theirs. Truth be told, Mort wasn't sure he was either. He gave a snort of amusement at the title but, as always, took her hand when it was offered. "Right then. Would, ah, also appreciate if didn't mention mark to anyone else," he told her in a low voice as if they could be heard in Belladonna's very room, and then he led the way out.
Arel's office was found before long, and Mort pressed his ear to the door: silence. The demon was out on one errand or another. Motioning for the witch to come along, he gingerly slid the door open and entered, heading straight for the bookcase. Tempting as it was to see if the secretary had more cider around, he checked the impulse to investigate Arel's desk; plus Mort imagined he'd be far more careful about his illicit items now after it had been raided the last time students were there. With a soft grunt he pushed the bookcase open and led Belladonna down into the tunnels that made up Amityville's secret underground catacombs, eyes sharp for even a glimpse of white or gold.
Being there reminded him of just how quickly the Hunters could infiltrate their school. It put the zomboil on edge even if their visit was a short one.
As before, the tunnel deposited them into a small cavern before long whose only occupants were two long rows of lockers. Each had a student's name printed on the front below a three digit number; some were left open, others were closed but had open locks still hanging from the handle. It was then that Mort realized he didn't have something key: the combination to unlock Melusine's locker. A ghoul had had the journal with the numbers when he'd went . . . "Mrrr. You take one side, I take other?" he suggested. If they had to, he was willing to force the locker open.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 12, 2012 2:55 pm
"I figured it would be best to keep it secret." Belladonna replied softly as her fingers closed around his now gloved one, uncertain of how she felt about these particular accessories. It kind of kept their skin apart, which she didn't like one bit... But it also kept him safe from others who could use him. "If you can hardly tell me all about it, I assume you shouldn't broadcast it to the world." Here she did frown and cast her face up to his as they walked through the hall, down the stairs and out across campus. "Would you perhaps like fingerless gloves instead? Maybe something nice and leathery, but that'll keep your fingers free?" She could possibly make him some, or at least alter some for him. In any event she really just wanted the feel of his fingers on her own when they held hands. At least some small part of him touching her when they walked together. Small, but still. Belladonna couldn't help the things she wanted. The office was something the witch hadn't really seen, so her eyes were wide as she took in the sights of what it looked like. Hellma's office was much nicer, but the witch wasn't given much time to look through everything before Mort was fiddling with the bookcase. With an astonished gasp, she watched as the bookshelf swung open to revel a pathway behind it. Quick behind the zombie, Belladonna grabbed his arm and kept close, her hands a little tight around his muscle. Though she wasn't exactly frightened to be so far under the school, the witch was certainly a little... Cautious. Often times trouble found one when one went lurking around where one didn't belong, so she definitely kept her ears and eyes alert. But at the same time, there was that tiny spark of fun deep within her chest. This was an adventure! Yet just as Belladonna was starting to relax a little, the cavern suddenly bloomed before them and then there were the lockers. The sight of them made the witch cold for some reason she couldn't name, but her steps slowed as they got closer. Inside these were objects from the dead, objects of students from before, ones just like Belladonna and Mort and all her friends... All students who had tragically met a fate worse than death. And worst of all, she and another group of students had actually experienced the end of these lives. It was terrible. And that same damn cowardice rose up in her and made her mouth say something like: "W-what was in C-callie's locker?"Ugh! The statement she had wanted to ask in pure curiosity instead came out scared and stuttering. To make up for it, Belladonna took a bold step froward and nodded with purpose. It was all show, of course, but hopefully it could fool Mort. "Sure! I'll take this side! Hopefully it won't take too much to find Melusine's locker."Maybe her heightened emotions made her a bit magical, maybe it made her leak some of her FEAR into her words. Maybe that was just the key they needed, but the moment Belladonna formed the vampire ghoul's name, a locker near the end shuttered loudly before it snapped open with a metal clang. All pretense of bravery gone, Belladonna let out a terrified shriek that she cut off with a clamp of hands to her mouth. With wide eyes she whirled to Mort, suddenly silent as the grave. Bat s**t, bat s**t, bat s**t!Not making a peep, the witch stared at her boilfriend and waited for the cue that everything was all clear, that tattle-tale students or teachers or worse weren't coming for them. She wasn't going to move one bit until they made sure everything was safe... Ol-j-man Does Mort have a key? If he does, Bells wants to go deeper down and see the Altar and all that biz. If not, that's cool too. XD
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 12, 2012 3:26 pm
It bespoke Mort's edginess that, upon hearing the clang of the opened locker, one fist had already clenched and begun sporting short bursts of electrical bolts, intermittently lighting up the scowl on his face; the witch's shriek a split second later almost sent energy hurled at an invisible opponent. He didn't say anything for a good fifteen seconds or so, stiff and silent as the grave as he strained to hear any evidence that they were being closed in on. At length he decided they were in the clear, though his movements were no less hurried as he grasped Belladonna's arm and tugged her to inspect the locker. "Just hurry," he told her in a low growl as he released her, eyes darting in the direction from where they came.
They could talk about contents and whatever else about the gloves later when tons of dirt weren't separating them from above ground. Mort himself could handle the knowledge, but then again he had come from a grave; Bells, however, had appeared uncertain the further they had gone in. Either way, though, he didn't like it here. The dead were to be remembered, not ensconced away in a hidden shrine like they were an embarrassed secret the school would never release. It made even his decayed flesh raise a few goosebumps in a mixture of sympathy and trepidation.
As Bells took a look inside the vampire's locker, Mort's were attracted by a familiar glint on the floor. Squatting, he found the selfsame trap door the students had entered before, whose passageways eventually led to the frozen lake below. Curious, he grasped the handle and attempted to lift it open but met with resistance. Locked again. "Mrrr . . . Done?" Mort prompted her as he stood back up, wanting to get out of the office before someone noticed they'd gone through.AyeAvast He sadly does not have the key. D: He has the vial.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 12, 2012 5:05 pm
Though she knew it was only the locker, only that metal door opening, Belladonna still couldn't shake the fear that had gripped her. The sparks of electricity from Mort comforted her for a moment, but as they arced she could see his face and it frightened her just a little bit more. When he rushed forward and took a hold of her arm, the witch let out a tiny, traitorous whimper. It was more due to the force of his grip rather than her own fear, but he wouldn't know that and instead think her a coward. Belladonna only nodded quickly as she looked inside the locker. There wasn't much, like she figured there would be, but there was enough to warrant a visit. With quick, though gentle, hands, Belladonna reached inside and picked up three books, a small journal and something she knew by sight but which she was sure she'd have to explain to Mort: The book hat. It only took a few moments for the witch to place the objects in her bag and then ascertain that nothings else was in the locker, but when she turned around Mort was on the ground. For a moment, she was upset. She hadn't taken that long, but when noticed what he was looking at was a door, the hand that had gravitated to her hip instead turned into pointing at the door. "What's that? Where does it go?" Belladonna asked in a whisper, her eyes wide as she started at the glinting door. So badly she wanted to go through it, to see what was behind it and investigate all these mysterious. Mort had gotten to go through that door, surely. So why couldn't Belladonna? Mostly because it wouldn't open. It rattled with the strength of Mort's pull, but didn't open. Belladonna pursed her lips and considered trying to use a spell, but she figured that would do even less good. Instead she nodded softly as she took a step back to give him room to stand, then reached to take his arm, to let him lead their way back up. The witch was good the whole way back, sure to keep her mouth close and not utter a single peep. But once they had returned to Arel's office and left without incident, she tugged on the zomboil's arm in curiosity. "Is that another entrance to the Hunter's island? Do they still live on the island? Did you say you all destroyed it? What happened to the Hunters? Did you all kill any? Did you capture them?!" They had come so far from their strife, that now Belladonna was willing to return to it with a flurry of questions. What all had Mort not told her? Ol-j-man Sad trombone~ Oh well! MORE ANGST. Cause I've totes been stalking Mort in his trials. >.>;
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
