revivalproject | [OPEN] The Lore Of The Highlands

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[OPEN] The Lore Of The Highlands

WHO: Reeve Tuesti, Open
WHERE: Temba
WHAT: Shadow Hauntings
WHEN: During The Storm
WARNINGS: CW: Big, predatory dog, eyes in the darkness

I. The Cat-sìth | Early Storm Days

There wasn't much to account for the first time let himself go outside into the fog. It was actually a strange thing for him, where he hadn't noticed it the first day at all. He'd been inside, and his unique forms of magic didn't really seem to linger in his mind or awareness except when he was actively using it to reach for and control Mini. Given he'd been so busy with working on getting logs into the storage room he'd taken for himself in the Ampitheater, he'd gotten tired and just settled into a cot by the door and slept. So passed the first day of the storm. And so it was that Reeve didn't end up finding out their problem until he walked outside on the second day.

Even then it had taken a moment for him to process. Fog wasn't, in and of itself, a problem after all. Weather could be like that. It wasn't until there was a strike of crimson lightning that Reeve realized something was wrong. Even then it was mostly because the flash of lightning cast a new shadow from Reeve's body, and it was behaving weirdly.

Mostly because it was behaving. The shadow swirled and swirled until brilliant crimson eyes were staring out at him from the fog. Cat eyes. Cat eyes at the level of a dog's head. The form stepped forward, hissing, bearing teeth that were as stunningly white as the spot on its chest.

"Cat-sìth," Reeve said in shock. How could he not understand what this was with a single sight? It was a story that had shaped him as a child, what had led him to making the original Cait Sith. A fairy-cat, one that stole the souls of the dead. Which, of course, meant Reeve should be safe, provided he didn't die.

That wasn't good though. Okay, how to deal with this... Reeve was frozen in place as he thought and the shadow continued to grow. To split. To spread. And soon Reeve was being surrounded by scores of felien eyes.

"A man goes out in heavy rain with nothing to protect him from it. His hair doesn’t get wet. How does he do that?" Reeve asks. The feline creatures pause in their advance on him, instead looking at each other.

They couldn't resist riddles after all. And, with them distracted, Reeve turned and fled. Maybe he wasn't dead, maybe no one was particularly weak to the soul stealing (he hoped), but Reeve rememebered what his power was. Inspire, after all, was a soul magic. He was perhaps at too great a risk.

II. The Cù-sìth | Late Storm Days

Fairy-Cats were hardly the most threatening of the fae that stories were told of when Reeve was a child. They were so easily held back, so easily driven aside with riddles and attention and even cold temperatures. So Reeve had come to be prepared for the cats, and was more willing to go into the thick fog. It's not easy, of course, but he has the maps memorized so with carefully counted paces, he can more easily find his way in the fog. Sure, it wasn't perfect, you couldn't walk in a straight line for any distance without points of reference, but he could try.

The flash of lightning wasn't enough to make him jump, he was used to the ghostly felines arriving. The growling made him stop though. Made him freeze and look back over his shoulder. What he found made his blood go cold.

A massive, shaggy creature like a dog, but the size of a small cow. Its coat was a dark shade of green, and its bared teeth yellow against the color. The creature's eyes were a bloody crimson and shining, and as it snarled those eyes were narrowed.

The terror was too much. This creature was one Reeve knew, and was as dangerous to the living as the cat-sìth were to souls. Reeve knew the stories said the creature had a bark that was low and menacing and carried impossible distances. One bark could reach miles, even over the waters of the sea. And to hear three of them would be to die from terror of the sound alone.

"Fuck," Reeve said, and he started running. Even though there was silence behind him, that didn't keep him from running. He was too terrified to stop. the hounds were said to be silent hunters, and all he could do was run. He needed shelter and to find a way to plug his ears, and he needed it now.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Dustin glances Reeve over with a quick glare, gingerly testing his weight on his foot. He recognizes the face and knows simply through exposure that this man is on the same ship as him, but the name isn't something he payed attention to much and is, therefore, annoyingly elusive. Rhys? Reggie? Definitely an 'R' name of some sort...

Whatever, not important. "What--why?"

Not just on a ship together, but of course Reeve remembered the... rough young man from their disagreements about the wood a month prior, but that doesn't matter now.

"Cu-Sith coming. It will fell us if we let it find us."

Dustin feels like he should know that name. He should know a lot of stuff right now. But like so many other things, it sits annoyingly at the tip of his tongue.

At least the consequences for ignoring the creature are much easier to interpret. "Fuck--okay, buildings," Dustin stammers, swinging his head around. Obviously he can't see anything through the fog, but he's hoping for - expecting to get that twinge of muscle memory that tells him how to mirror his steps back. That never comes. Dustin snarls in irritation and stamps a foot. "--I don't know. I don't know! I haven't seen one in fucking--"

This would be where he gives an exact count of the minutes, but he can't remember that, either. Instead, Dustin flails his hands around his head in a wild, exasperated shrug.

And what a sharp tongue that the things sit upon. They could easily grow heart with carelessness. But for now, it was what it was, and a bit of not remembering was not a bad thing.

"This way," Reeve suggests, gesturing for the young man to follow him. It would be easier than letting the boy beat himself up.

In spite of his lack of memory and general processing, Dustin still retains his usual habits built from spending his whole remembered life with free access to his powers. Habits like, questioning everything, even when they're being actively pursued by something that wants to kill them.

"Where are we going?" the boy asks sharply, pausing in his turn towards Reeve. "You don't know where any buildings are, either."

"I have made more maps of this city than you can imagine. I know where we are now, and with care and luck, I can get us where we need be," Reeve countered.

It just... depended on luck really. It was hard to walk in a straight line when you had no visual references.

"But you--"

Dustin flinches as he notices something moving through the fog behind him. Something big. This is a swift enough kick in the pants to put aside his skepticism and make his legs start moving, feet scrabbling underneath him in the mad dash to catch up to Reeve.

The motion, of course, doesn't reach Reeve's eyes. The youth rushing up to him does make him feel a bit more nervous, which of course meant that he was going to speed up too, trying to find shelter.

"Did you see something?"

"Yes!" Dustin replies quickly, voice cracking. He doesn't stop running when he catches up to Reeve - there's no plan for where he's going or what he'll do when he gets there, except that he wants to get away as fast as possible. "What do Cu-Sith look like?"

Sometimes all you have to be is faster than the other victim, so Reeve can't begrudge the running.

"Large dog-lark creatures. This one had glowing crimson eyes."

Dustin risks a quick look over his shoulder. He can't see details through the fog, or even process the image for more clues in his mind like he normally would, but the glowing red orbs juddering in the mist is as much information as Dustin needs.

"--Yeah!" he says, panting. "Yeah, that's the one!"

"Said as if you're familiar with them?" Reeve said, his tone implying it's a question. And there, finally, a small broken down building. A place they could hide.

"As if they're right fucking behind us!" Dustin yells hoarsely.

A second later, salvation looms ahead through the fog. His immense relief is short-lived; Dustin skitters to a halt in front of the too-large door and presses himself against it, cursing furiously at how heavy it is while his feet scrabble for traction on the ground.

Oh dear, what an ass, as ever. Reeve moves to his side and throws his own shoulder into the pressing the door open. "Push harder."

They need shelter, more than anything else.

Dustin howls incoherently in frustration and fury as he firms up his back against the door. This would be the point where he'd look for other solutions - a lever or something, anything that could apply more torque than his spindly arms - but he doesn't trust his brain, dulled as it is, to find one fast enough. He barely even remembers the path they took to get here.

Thankfully, with Reeve's assistance, the door slides open just enough to give Dustin room to squeeze through, where he wraps his hands around the door's edge to pull on it from the other side. Reeve probably needs a little more room than he does and Dustin isn't about to abandon him.

Squeezing in is enough. Reeve barely gets through himself, but once he does he's happy to work on shoving it closed.

"I'll block this. See if there are other ways in. If not, we should be mostly safe."

"--On it," Dustin interjects, already scuttling away from the door. He only makes it a couple feet before tripping over something in the dark with a loud clatter and a few choice curses. The fog blocking out the sun makes the inside of these ruins much more perilous than they ought to be, and Dustin can't remember if he brought a flashlight. He takes a moment to sift through his pockets.

Naturally, the only thing he keeps on him at all times is the lighter that arrived with him from home, which will have to suffice. Dustin flicks it open, striking the flame with a gentle tick of flint that faintly illuminates the indoors in a warm, wavering light.

"How can you be so sure?" he asks, more carefully stepping around the scattered debris now that he can see it. "Will it give up after a while?"

"Truth is, I cannot be certain. I can merely be hopeful," Reeve answered. "Though stories say that beyond an aversion to flowing water and the other general weaknesses of the fae, they do not linger if there is other prey to be had. With enough time, we'll be safe."

ANd Reeve can't worry about people that he can't help.

So Reeve doesn't know exactly if hiding will get it off their trail, its purported weaknesses include creatures that probably don't exist here, and Dustin has noticed many gaps in the walls and windows of this building that would suggest it's not as defensible as they might've hoped. "Great," he grumbles, looking distinctly unenthused. That pretty much sums up his thoughts.

Still, no use in sitting around and waiting to be chewed on. Dustin moves towards what looks to be an upturned table, twice as tall as he is, and briefly considers if he could push it towards a broken side window. Probably not. "So we hope it doesn't bust in here, or finds someone else instead?" he quips. "I don't like those odds."

"They're better odds than we have elsewhere," Reeve counters as he finishes blocking the door and moves to look around for other things to block.

"It's not good enough." Dustin murmurs. He picks up a couple of broken wood planks but, without anything to nail them in with, discards them with a frustrated huff. Everything's either too big to move or too small to be useful, he thinks, gaze panning around. This would be so much easier if he was fucking smart. Stupid storm. Come on, there's gotta be something useful rattling around in there...

Flustered, Dustin starts pacing the edges of the room, mentally marking and re-marking possible entry points without doing anything about them. "Did you hear anything outside from the door?" he asks. "You think it's still out there?"

"We can only do what we can do," Reeve countered. The world had finite options for them, and they had to make the best of what they could get.

"I doubt I would hear anything if it was," Reeve admitted as he set about piling the stones in the windows. They wouldn't keep things out as well as he'd like, but to get in through there would lead the rocks to tumbling, and that would be some warning.

"Stealth predators," Dustin says, a deadpan statement rather than a question. Fantastic. He can see why Reeve is trapping the windows, which isn't a bad idea given their resources. Dustin gathers up a few of those discarded planks of wood and starts stacking them on another windowsill on the opposite side of the room. It's not ideal, but...

A raindrop splashes onto his nose. No, not a raindrop - the roof is still intact, and the storm hasn't produced any precipitation to speak of. Dustin glances up and spots an exposed pipe running along the top edge of the wall, with an old, rusted joint slowly gathering condensation.

"...You said they don't like running water?" he asks. "Are we talking a river, or...?"

"I don't know. It's just supposed to be that fairies can't cross flowing water. I don't know how much," he says, moving toward Dustin. That should be something to consider here. Could they make their own protection like this?

That's not necessarily a positive response, but as Reeve has mentioned earlier, they don't have a lot of good choices available to them anyway. Dustin turns his head a fraction, noting that Reeve has focused on the same thing he has.

"Worth a try," he shrugs. "Boost me up?"

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