𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗦𝗔𝗞𝗘𝗡 𝗖𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗟𝗘: 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝟮

☯ 𝘛𝘌𝘈𝘔 𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘞𝘓, 𝘚𝘐𝘎𝘕𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘐𝘕 . . . ✍

𝙆𝙞𝙩 » ☠ 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ❥

☢ 𝐷𝐴𝑁𝐺𝐸𝑅, 𝐷𝐴𝑁𝐺𝐸𝑅, 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝑀𝐴𝑌 ⌫

𝐺𝐸𝑇 𝑩𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑫. ➪ 𝓦𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓑𝓵𝓸𝓰 . . . ♪

𝐈 𝐍 𝐓 𝐑 𝐎 𝐃 𝐔 𝐂 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 ; 導入

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How dare these three idiots worm their way into my heart so easily. It was an astounding pleasure to write with Wolf, who kept my head up when I needed it most. I love this story we made, and can't wait to see it come to its full potential. Happy reading!

I can't wait to read everyone else's entries, this month has been fantastic. I love you all.

Remainder of Story:

[ Part Three]

𝐓 𝐀 𝐆 𝐒 ; タグ

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#Conscripto2022

𝐖 𝐎 𝐑 𝐃  𝐂 𝐎 𝐔 𝐍 𝐓 ; 単語数

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Section Count: 6,712

Full Count: 20,206

𝐓 𝐈 𝐌 𝐄  𝐓 𝐀 𝐊 𝐄 𝐍 ; 時間

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16 𝘋𝘢𝘺𝘴

𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐑 𝐀 𝐂 𝐓  𝐄 𝐑 𝐒 ; 文字

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𝙀𝙗𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙯𝙚𝙧 𝙃𝙞𝙡𝙡

𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙝

𝙄𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙞 𝘿𝙖𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞

𝐖 𝐀 𝐑 𝐍 𝐈 𝐍 𝐆 𝐒 ; 警報

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𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 | 𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 | 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 | 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝐒 𝐘 𝐍 𝐎 𝐏 𝐒 𝐈 𝐒 ; 梗概

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𝘓𝘦𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘬𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘴, 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘺... 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘰𝘥𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. 𝘌𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴; 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦.

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A look of desolate desperation paints over the strange brunette’s features, dribbles of sweat and the remainder of tears staining cheeks that had only been partly dried in a hasty wipe of a sleeve across that dirtied complexion, leaving a perplexed look upon the woman’s face, her eyes lacking the bright colors that would indicate what had happened only moments before.

Her experiences were still guarded by an unspoken vow not to allow them to leak. Even still as an abrupt expression of relentless hope dawns over the man’s face, rushing to her, Constance can only be met with confusion.

“Please, just come with me,” The human pleads, his eyes speaking a rare testament of honest virtue. “It’ll only take a minute, I need some help.” He states vaguely, though his voice carries a curious urgency, one that Constance hadn’t truly been expecting when she first saw him slow before encountering her. Of course, it would be a foolish thing, to get herself involved in someone else’s matter, especially when her own was nowhere near resolved, and yet… There was something about his panicked cries for aid that force her to break her silence.

“How can I help?” Though her voice carries a question, it almost refuses to quiver in spite of her stricken face, tear-stained eyes hidden by the blackened glass. Honestly, though, due to all that has happened so recently, she supposes that a random stranger rushing up to her and asking for aid was not at all surprising. At the very least, certainly not to the same level of watching her mother’s life fade into crystalline white. Even with the man’s clear shock and fear radiating from him, there… is not any hint of weird features.

Lucky, she considers, before promptly cursing herself for thinking such a thing. This man is clearly desperate for aid, what should it matter that he seems blessed with a lack of monsterous transformation? Shaking her head gently from side to side as if to clear her thoughts, she straightens her shoulders sternly. “I’ll…do what I can.”

Relieved to see such an answer, Ebenezer quickly nods along to her words, turning his head to look about him for a second, before leaning forward slightly. “We’ve gotta get to a police station, just–I need you as a witness, you’ll see why soon, okay?” His words came out rushed and half-unplanned, to which Constance squinted behind her sunglasses.

“Is that so?” She mumbles, awkwardly placing her hands into the pockets of her jacket, one she had donned just before leaving the scene of her home. “Well…” The woman sighs, lowering her shoulders. “If it won’t take long, then I can come with you, I guess.” Glancing down at the pocket knife in her bag, there is a certain feeling of oddly placed safety that comes with the knowledge that, if this man intends to lead her away and harm her, there is at least some method of defense, one that does not have her faced with the horrid display of statued woes.

“That’s great!” The man replies, quickly turning his body to scan the street sign that had been knocked to the ground. He supposed, for a moment, that it was best that he had these memorized, before beginning to sprint past the crosswalk, causing Constance to quickly jet after him, taking a moment to realize that when he asked for aid, he meant /immediate/ aid.

“You could’ve said something about how you were getting there.” She notes a half-attempted bitter tone in her voice, though she does not seem very surprised, hoisting her bag further up her shoulder as she begins to sprint with better weight placement to each foot. “It shouldn’t be that far, but still…” The hybrid trails, realizing that there’s no use muttering the last of her thoughts before continuing onwards.

Though part of her wishes to know a name of sorts, it does not feel best to ask such things when any soul attempting to get away from the blast could overhear. If people decide to turn to violence towards those covered in marks or furs or scales…Constance would be a fool to ever give even an inkling of thought to their minds about her human father.

Attempting to keep up with Ebenezer was not difficult by any means, especially with her limbs stretched from the previous hike, as well as providing an outlet for her mind. Something to focus on as they finally turn to the crosswalk and turn off into the street–though it was not like citizens are exactly planning on obeying law, with people growing wings, tails, and all sorts of odd body parts.

A loud car horn blares, rapidly seperating the gorgon hybrid from her thoughts, chest stilling its breath in fear as a vehicle barrels towards the two at shocking speed, enough for the woman to rush behind the brunette man and shove him forwards, taking herself in the path as well, nearly hurling each off their feet and to the sidewalk below. So… it seemed her hypothesis is correct, people truly were so selfish that, apparently, it seemed that one needed to watch the road at far higher attention.

“Sorry, I think you’d want to get to the station in one piece,” She grumbles, eyebrows furrowed at the speeding vehicle that did not seem to mind that it nearly rolled over two innocent souls, dusting off the nonexistent damage done to her jean jacket.

Nodding a sense of gratitude, Ebenezer turns his gaze back to the road before him, after instinctively turning his head backwards to see Constance’s status. “Yeah, if I right, it should be on this street, a little ways down.”

Humming her agreements, the woman raises a hand to reposition the dark lenses covering her silver-toned eyes. “They’re getting brave, then. Just outside the station, vehicular manslaughter. I don’t think that’s a great sign, but… Whatever.” Although her words lack empathy, it seems clear that she doesn’t have any qualms in continuing the journey, instead finding herself walking alongside the man now, rather than behind him. What his plan was, once they got inside, is beyond her, though it must be better than wallowing in her own self-pity and being isolated in this world of newly crumpled buildings. It was nearly a miracle that the station had not collapsed in on itself by the time they reach the doors.

The interior is pristine in the sense that a doctor’s office is pristine, almost dishonest in its portrayal of cleanliness. It seems nearly inhuman, the way things appear so organized and white in the midst of the world caving into itself, as if this one building could survive every blast that the world would have to endure, without shock or care. To some, this might come across as comforting or benevolent, but Constance can only feel the hairs on her neck begin to raise.

It seems so /lifeless/, like a mere puppet show of what lurked beneath the surface; a facade of innocence that morphed into a monster ready to swallow them whole. To be perfectly honest, the hybrid can’t tell whether or not the human entering at her side feels the same sentiment, nor is she all too ready to find out. It’s simple, really, she’ll assist him in this one instance, and once again return to exploring the streets alone as she had before meeting his gaze. There is nothing saying that she even needs to do this much, and yet, be it out of kindness or stupidity, here she is.

The woman sitting behind the desk is thinly built, with a hollowed face that seemed akin to a starved rodent, with her short yet obedient hair forming a bob haircut that seems to meticulously surround her face, as if she had worked for hours to get it to a perfect, even ratio. Her dark brown eyes grow wide and near glossy, her hands fidgeting quietly against each other below the raised portion of the desk, just barely out of sight. Her lips pull slightly backwards as if she is trying to feign her own sense of self-security, attempting to trick herself into believing that all is well.

There’s a moment of silence shared between the young adults, quietly exchanging a glance between themselves, and once again to the woman. Silently taking a step backwards, Constance clears her throat, nudging Ebenezer with one of the arms held crossed at her chest. Noticing the not-quite-subtle hint, the man straightens his shoulders and clears his throat, causing the woman to shoot her attention over to him, her look akin to a prey creature scanning the environment for predators.

“Hey, My name is Ebenezer Hill,” He begins, rushing up to the desk, once again donning that desperate anxiety across his face. “I need to report a murder–my mom–” His voice hitches as though he isn’t even quite ready to it this event’s occurrence, wavering in its strength. “My mom suffocated my brother–”

“We’re sorry,” The fretful secretary interrupts, straightening her back, widened eyes seeming almost sad, for a moment, placing her hands together to rub her fingers along her palm in an attempt to calm herself down. “There’s so much going on, we couldn’t possibly send someone out– the communications are down, and–” Finally, her hazel eyes fell onto the woman standing behind Ebenezer, a heavy gulp rising from the fear in her throat. Scales across her cheeks, dusted like patches of crystals, causing a small shake in her bones. “I’m terribly sorry, sir, please understand–”

“So you’re gonna sit and do nothing?” The man barks, fighting every urge in his body to slam his hands onto the desk separating them, anger rising against the anxiety in his soul. “That’s what the protectors are supposed to do?! Leave citizens to work it out?! A /child/ is dead!” He shouts, causing the woman to shrink away, guilty, pursing her lips as if a punished dog. “You’re not even going to hear me out!”

“Sir,” The woman whimpers below her breath, her gaze jetting between them, to a door on her side of the counter quickly opening, to reveal an officer clad in bulletproof armor, a riot shield, and a gas mask covering the majority of his face.

“Get the emergency comms ready, we’re in a state of evacuation.” He barks, to which the rodent-like woman dips her head, quickly nodding and beginning to tap her antsy fingers against her keyboard in an attempt to do what she is not at all prepared to enact. “Oh, and kid?” The officer nods to Ebenezer, the energy of his glare echoing even through the mask that shrouds his face as his voice turns cold, anger present in his tone rather than his words. “Get that thing out of here.”

Although he does not even begin to reference her physically, Constance cannot hide the boiling wish to glare from her attention, gripping her nails into her clothing in an effort to ground her, though her lips do not pull into a snarl that would have felt so freeing. “Ebenezer,” She begins in a small whisper, allowing her chest to rise in a mild attempt of rebellion despite her even voice. It occurs to the hybrid that this marks the first time that she has obtained his name, such an ordinary thing that, in the commotion, she hadn’t thought to question. “We should go.” The woman states, not allowing her head to lower, though not daring to allow her anger to cross her lips where they may see.

Clenching his fists at the officer's words, though stilling at his name on the other’s tongue, the man slowly nods along, matching gaze with the officer in a means of defiance, before sighing his anger out from his chest.  “Yeah,” he agrees, slowly, turning around to face Constance knowingly, not waiting for her approval before walking in stride to the doors they had recently crossed before. He was attempting to convey his footsteps in the seemingly calm resoluteness of the hybrid beside him, though it did not seem like he conveyed this in the same light. How strange… How could she keep such a balanced mindset? He hadn’t even been able to mention her as a  point to his statement. Truly, if she could be so calm in the face of oppression, wouldn’t that make for certain that these… ‘monsters’, they were not at all feral?

Breathing in the dusted air that seemed to hold far more energy than either shared, Constance lowered her crossed arms. “I’m sorry they didn’t listen to you.” The hybrid begins, looking up to the glittering colors about the sky. “But if an evacuation is about to sound, we wouldn’t have time to stay here anyway.” Though her words held nothing but honesty, it still seemed inconsiderate to portray it as that black and white. Even still… that was what each needed in the current moment, truth without the laying of bias. Clearing her throat, her silver gaze turns to the human, blank face hiding her registry of the situation. “My name is Constance. It would be best to stick together if we’re forced to evacuate. Though, if I’m honest,” Turning her head away, the gorgon noted the horrors of the streets around them, broken buildings and terrified occupants quickly rushing into their vehicles. “I don’t think we should leave where they tell us.”

“What does that mean?” Ebenezer questions, raising a brow in curiosity. What could she even be talking about? “Where else would we go?”

Not willing to turn around to face him, Constance closes her eyes for a moment, breathing a slow inhale and an even slower exhale, allowing her heart-shaped lenses to drift downward. “We go to the center. Don’t you think this is strange? About your…situation, and mine.” Not willing to let out much more about her mother’s fate than that, she shakes her head. “No, it doesn’t make sense. The blast, the damage in the streets, this,” She turns to face him, motioning to the dark scales peppering her cheeks. “I don’t really care if you me or if you don’t,” Constance doesn’t shift her speech, the cold apathy clear in her voice, as she continues. “However, if we’re already here, there has to be a reason.”

It made sense, sure, in a weird sense of the phrase, but… Ebenezer still can’t quite wrap his head around such an insane request. “We’re just two people here, what do you expect to happen?” He questions, taking a step closer to her.

“I want answers, it’s that simple.” She replies, adjusting the bag of necessities on her shoulder. “If you don’t want to, then leave. I’m going to drive.”

It seemed that those last words finally caused Ebenezer to it his inner defeat, shaking his head. “Guess I’m riding shotgun."

Finally, a relieved breath rushes from Constance’s lips as she nods along to his words. It’s better than being completely alone in whatever situation one could call this, easing her shoulders and leading her to begin her walk anew down the street, causing Ebenezer to jog to match her steps. Luckily, her car is still sitting in the driveway, though it seems like it was added salt in her father’s wound. It was unfortunate, but… it was necessary.  “Great, then we should be moving.”

Constance feels rather grateful, that she had at least spared her keys back into her pocket, before her small, unintentional action laid her mother to rest. The heat of remembrance forces her to flinch away, even getting near the house and being near too guilty to look at its structure. She had felt welcomed there, she had grown up within its walls…

Now, it felt like an empty shell, just like herself. She fumbles for the keys but keeps a straight-laced expression, as her new unfortunate companion waits on the other side. Really, she shouldn’t be subjecting herself to allow anyone near her, but what choice did they have, at this point, when nobody else was there to help?

Ebenezer plops himself into the opposite side as she does, but clears his throat uncomfortably, holding his hand out flat toward her, with an unsure expression. Not with fear, but something that asked whether she would even reciprocate his attempt at a formal greeting or not.

“You pick up rather quickly but you can just call me Nez.”

“…Constance.” With that, and the knowledge she had already given her name, they shake hands, even if she feels hesitant, wanting to spare him the feel of any scales or claws dragging across his skin. He doesn’t seem to mind, largely compared to the other, solidified humans, who gave looks that wished to burn her right on the spot. when she, herself, could fairly have done the same.

Finally, she turns toward the wheel, when their hands depart and her mind returns to focus, turning the key into the ignition,  listening to the familiar signals that  beep alive and double check themselves, before only the hum of the engine can be heard within its compartment. Ebenezer held his hands in his lap, before raising his question.

“What’s our ‘center’?”

Constance hadn’t, ittedly, thought of this either, but she had gained a few guesses. Ebenezer peers over at her front door with curiosity,  which in turn causes Constance to drill out of the driveway, and begin moving, clearly still a bit stiffly shaken, but keeping her head on her shoulders as if she were a trained soldier.

“Well, I’m guessing it’s where everyone isn’t headed. Instead where officers are headed.”

“Do you think the police would be attending to anything in this case? That officer did mention a state of evacuation. It’s possible even bigger guys are involved now.”

After Ebenezer confirms that Constance had no access to her phone, his gaze lingers through the slightly rolled window, for street signs that lead out of the neighborhood. She appears a little guilty, that her satchel hasn’t contained a device that he was searching for, with the addition that it seems he lost his own, somehow, along the way.

Despite that, he has his wits about him. His school bag is still hoisted loosely off his back. while dragging out a free paper, a whole map becomes accessible to them. At a stop sign, Constance feels free enough to look over at the intricate crosses and lines of green and tan landscapes. It takes her a few moments to realize that he had created the folded directions himself, with litters of notes scrawled across its thin sheets as he lays it out flat within his hands.

“Why do you have something like this with you?”

“It’s not finished yet! So I’ve been working on it gradually on campus.” Seeing the skeptical expression, he further clarifies hastily, “It’s just a hobby! Nothing creepy…”

Constance readjusts herself upright, apparently satisfied with that response, beginning to step on the gas, before he raises his hand up. With reflex, she pauses with her foot on the brake instead, jolting them in their clamped seatbelts yet Ebenezer’s eyes remain on paper.

“Let’s travel down I-90, you’ll turn left out here and if you keep forward there should be a crossroad leading into it.”

“State of evacuation, Nez, ? They’ll have the highway blocked off for sure.”

Ebenezer takes her point and juggles further with his, squinting at some of the potential routes, away from these possible barriers they could face. His finger drags along the lines, though, while Constance was patient, she feels tense at the idea of just sitting there idly.

“Alright, keep right for now.”

Slowly, she does so, leaning the car off the gas, into a slow loll, in case the male changes his mind again, without a second thought. Away from where civilization would go, is their direction. Gradually, to the driver, this means an abundance of growth,  trees that they travel past at a moderate speed. Ebenezer’s eyes are glued to the map, giving turn directions and input every so often, that fills their quiet space within the vehicle.

Constance numbs their silence down to a break, from the overwhelming events that they both had to bare themselves through, from the start of the day. In contrast to the havoc, ironically,  their drive is surrounded by a peaceful serenity that the earth manages to hold, despite the spurts of random concrete and rock upheaving out of the ground from the tremor before.

A sparse number of cars dart by on their own,  Constance’s grip on the wheel only loosens once the strangers speed away, dangerously, in the crossing direction from theirs. Constance may be completely submitting to each point and gesture, at turns that Ebenezer spotted, but feels rather nervous about putting complete trust within him. He hasn’t done anything to spark anxiety, but how the humans had been acting out around them, what else could she expect, other than terrified reactions?

Her mind turns to her mother instead, her demeanor to calm her daughter down before she got the consequences of doing so; she doesn’t hear Ebenezer call for her to pause, until the third time over when he says it a little urgently louder.

“What…?!”

“I’m sorry, it looks like we’re somewhere we’re not supposed to be…”

At first, Constance was ready to give him an earful about his carelessness. but when he points the barrier out down the hill that is blocking off one of the national park gates, she knows it wasn’t his own error. They have done exactly what they had needed to do, to get away from where everyone had been evacuated. Yet, these officials remain at a strange post, in the middle of nowhere. They don’t look like regular officers that they had seen, or met with back in the depths of their town, but plaid combat suits and gear that made them out to be militants.

Ebenezer doesn’t seem to enjoy the idea of going toward them, yet Constance swallows her unease and tracks the car forward, Despite Nez putting his hands over his head and looking stricken that they were really going through with it.

Away from their own path, however, is that of someone who is of frighteningly pure blood, rather than the mild, hybridized sort beheld by the supposed Gorgon. They, on the other hand, fully knew where they were going, and what they were heading to.

Ikari Damashi has always known their family to be a bit peculiar, with constant, strange references from their uptight, wealthy grandparents in times they still remained, and the odd way their own parents once shuffled them so quickly away from the talk of fantasy in the stead of reality. Though the section of any public library might seem dedicated to a great variety of beasts and legends, from nine-tailed foxes to vampiric dwarves, the Damashis only ever seemed interested in one /specific/ topic.

Dragons.

For as much as their parents tried everything in their power to ensure that Ikari was left with the chance to grow up in a normal, stable household, life tends to have a rather cruel manner of throwing people’s dreams in their faces. Of cursing the soothing pair with a child /born/ with the overwhelming aggression and strength of their kind, even before the world finally reached its breaking point as it has today.

Unlike the great many who panicked the moment their blinding confusion and crippling fear got the best of them, Ikari does no such thing. The scales lining on their once only scar-roughened skin feel less bothersome than they perhaps should, itching for only the first few moments that they pierced through their skin with sharp edges of crimson framing pearly centers.

It’s not even entirely clear if the first moment those diamonds of scarlet emerged on their arms were actually riddled with the agonizing sound of scales scraping fabric, of if something deep within them simply craved freedom enough to rip the arms from the long sleeves that once covered such a portion of their striking appearance.

Even the obvious growth of sharpened nails, green slit eyes that they witnessed when pushing aside a tangled mess of dark bangs and blonde back strands, or the smoke that hazzed past fanged teeth could seem to faze them successfully, with the addition of such monstrous features almost completing the rugged look ushered forth by the deep, jagged scar running up from one side of their jaw towards their eye.

There was always something lurking within their bloodline, revealed in strange habits- hoarding, love of shine, possessive behavior, beastial appetites, gruff voices, hatred of any chill… the list persists.

Only after bearing witness to the mysterious, hazy sight of a massive treelike structure do things even begin to add up, still full of more gaps in knowledge than there are holes in swiss cheese. After all, they can’t exactly be sure of any situation that they’re supposedly filled in on by a three dimensional /vision/ that took place in a musty hotel room.

Their private business of often-mundane bodyguarding mostly only picks up at clubs and bars during heavy nights, or in more serious situations when someone of higher class is willing to take their certifications into true consideration despite their petite appearance. Living between the worlds of truly fulfilling their role as a high level personal protection officer and working like a late high school kid on dark nights, the vacant temporary homes promised some peace during the day while protective tasks remained mostly at night, when the troublemakers came out to play.

It’s only natural with these factors, that Ikari might allow the vision to lead them here, to the blocked off gate, ing its open sanctuary and translucent home tree beyond its borders— if only these men would /kindly/ step out of the way.

Initially, Ikari thought of ing them on their supposed crusade to protect and evacuate citizens at every opportunity. However, it takes merely a moment for them to begin catching some rather obvious inconsistencies within their uniforms, although Ikari could it that they were hooked to the teeth in gear that outclassed their own discount combat attire they had dressed in before departing. Minus the sleeves, of course.

“You know, this whole /performance/ is a felony. If you’re here to give people trouble all dressed up as military personnel, then who knows how many years that could chalk you up to…”

Ikari tears into this one with a surprising amount of restraint for them, once they have made it clear that the crew wants nothing to do with them. Honestly, they can’t blame them. Menacing as Ikari looks now, due to the growing creature-like transformation, they’re also entirely aware of exactly what effect they tend to have on people.

It has lingered with them like a curse through all their life… This innate ability to invoke a deep seated sensation of /terror/ in others. With some, it sends them running with tails between their legs in a sense that used to be more metaphorical than it might be now, while others, like these men, tentatively shift towards the fight response rather than flight.

Following a momentary pause and a sharpening of their glare, Ikari finally finishes the notion they’d been considering this entire time. “I’m not even from this country, how is it that I know the rules better than you asshats? Are you proud of yourselves yet? Big ‘strong’ guys ready to take advantage of anyone who comes the wrong way just because you want to feel important for once in your lives? /Pathetic./”

“Whatever you are, can’t you tell, you don’t belong here anyways?!” Confidence is something perhaps intended to be a strong suit of burly men such as the one before them, yet, the wisp of a nervous lilt in his tone leaves Ikari’s eyes narrowing knowingly. “Get moving like everyone else has already, or else you’re going to get killed! People wouldn’t think twice about putting a monster down, we’re being courteous.”

That country drawl from the head man who leans against the metal hinge that lifts up and down in white and red stripes begs to differ on any real amount of respect toward Ikari’s proposal, just as much as it offers a ive threat. Ikari wouldn’t even need to prepare to retort, would it not be for the blazing, silver SUV that rolls up slowly over gravel, silencing all of them and turning their heads equally in unison toward the occupants.

The tussled, mousy brown-haired boy pokes his head out first from the enger side, a map cuffed tightly in sweaty hands and his glasses hiding his wide eyes from the light of the day.

“Uhh… hey! Is there trouble? We can through, right?”

Ikari appears a little annoyed at their arrival, though not for the reason outsiders might initially assume. It isn’t as though they were going to get anywhere /pleasant/ with these men. The guns were clear in their holsters, up until this point and one man from the guard to the right held it expectably. Not a good sign, particularly to the trained, narrowed eyes of Ikari.

Constance’s brows pinch together when nobody responds to Ebenezer’s comment and shifts uncomfortably in her seat. She mumbles over to him, keeping her eyes on the military men and the stranger who didn’t seem to exactly fit their gear quota.

“Maybe we should rush it?”

“Rush what? Us? No?!”

Ebenezer argues against it frantically in a hushed tone, quieting himself down when the man previously speaking to Ikari came tapping on Constance’s side window while the scaled being watches with arms raising to cross over their chest. She rolls it down halfway, careful not to gaze her eyes up but keeping cool about their overall approach.

“What’s the reason for the trip? Don’t you know what’s been going on? Turn back.”

The man states aggressively, peeved that he has to deal with not one but two of these monstrous beings trying to find a way out. Fed up at last, Ikari suddenly veers to the other side of the vehicle, causing Ebenezer to jump back in alarm at the impulsive lean they make within the car window.

“Mind letting me in?”

“Yes?!” Constance replies to the strange request while the man on the other side bangs on the window with the blunt of a pulled out pistol.

“Turn back, do you get the picture now?”

Things are getting hectic now, in one swift motion of action with Ikari’s demand for compliance, they decide to haphazardly drag themself into the window right over Ebenezer, who bashes his hands and his map into the ceiling. It’s almost ironic that Ikari crawled over in symbolic tune to a lizard, which wasn’t too far off from their apparent draconic origin. Only Constance was more vocal and not having fun with the new occupant.

“What the hell?!”

“Just drive.” Ikari commands, pointing ahead as they were still working themself into the back seat. The man reaches into the small slit of the window with his free hand and knocks Constance’s glasses aside, the motion angering her and flashing dangerous flared eyes in his direction.

“Screw off!” Constance challenges once their eyes meet, although the stoned hand was the first to go and chip off once she presses on the gas. The horror of what she had done pumps her adrenaline into gear just like the car upon looking into the reverse mirror at his blocked remains that crashed down, surprising the rest of the combative crew.

Ebenezer has the unfortunate opportunity to toss the stone arm out of his window in shock as Constance scrambles back for her glasses, their car crashing strongly into the gate and bursting it to filmsy pieces as tires soared across a makeshift cement road into the park.

Fumbling in her seat in an attempt to correct her position, the gorgon hybrid doesn’t dare speak about the statue of the man behind her, simply staring straight ahead as she drove, holding her eyes to the centerview at their new occupant, eyebrows furrowed and her lips slightly drawn back in a frown. “So, if you’re hijacking my vehicle, can I, at least, get your name?”

“Just call me Ikari.” The dragon huffs in return, crossing their arms once more and spreading their legs in an attempt to get comfortable after practically being flung around the vehicle as it rams into the cement barrier blocking off the entrance. It seems that was the true perk of the bulky car that her mother had given her about two years ago. A newer car might not be able to avoid crumpling against the heavy material, but hers bulldozed as if it was made of wood–save for quite a rough ride through, though Ikari seemed perfectly fine with the chaos that they had caused.

“I’m Nez, that’s Constance.” The human answers rapidly, voice faltering as he tries to get it out in the same breath, panting in the attempt. “What the fuck?” He finishes, motioning to the dragon with a raise of  his hand as if uncomfortable with the tense energy around them.

It was quite obvious that the gorgon he had met on the street didn’t seem to be happy with a dragon casually crawling over her enger and into the backseat after the military clearly didn’t wish them to go through. Yet… here they were now, on an abandoned road practically speeding down to avoid a barrage of bullets thudding against the roof of her SUV.

“Just. Drive.” Ikari’s voice lowers, a serious expression over their face causing an even deeper tension to fill the vehicle, leaving the other two to close their lips, not wishing to find out why exactly those soldiers were intimidated by them.

“We don’t get any answers?” Nez gripes, raising an eyebrow and unfurling his map once again, as if now more so annoyed than angered at their newfound guest, telling Constance to turn to the left under his breath. “Do you do this normally? Crawl into stranger’s cars and hope they’re not going to kill you?” He suggests, questioning gaze as he turns his head to face the dragon. “How do we know you won’t kill us?”

“Keep talking and I will.” They reply with a snarl, leaning up against the back of the seats. “We’re going the same way, what does it matter? It was just easier.” Disliking the amount of attention on them despite the outrageous act of hijacking a vehicle, they turn their head away from either party to focus on the window.

“...By ‘same way’, what do you mean?” Constance questions, keeping her eyes on the road and attempting to hide the fast thoughts behind her face.

“I saw a really big tree, and it felt right to come here. The fuckers had it blocked off, though, so it threw a cog into things.” They answered, “But, when you guys came, it got their eyes off of me. So,” Throwing their arms out unceremoniously, an unamused expression fills their face. “Here we are.”

With no chance to politely ask the dragon to escort themself out of the vehicle, Constance digs her nails into the steering wheel. With a simple ‘fine’ leaving her lips, she tenses her muscles for a moment, finally starting to slow her speeding race down the street to a normal rate in the knowledge that the bullets were not impacting them anymore, and if none else, there was distance between them, now.

Her mind racing at the attempt to keep up with recent events, it feels as though, for a moment, she was not piloting a vehicle, her last shred of normalcy, with two strangers whom she had met only moments before. Was this all a dream? Would she wake and find herself back in her bed, blue sheets covering her form, cocooned in her soft blankets, to a knock from her mother gently offering a late breakfast?

Would she drowsily pull herself from her comforts, lurching into the living room for the cheerful background news of whatever ‘feel good’ section happened to be playing on the news? No, not when the memory of the icy stare of her mother’s marble corpse haunts the back of her mind, as she readjusts her hold on the steering wheel, steel gaze solidifying on the road before them, when a horrid sight greets her.

A boulder of flesh lies in the cemented path, ripped clothing resting on bones of brittle wood and herb, exposed to the world as if a horrid painting by some macabre fanatic, the lifeless cage of sinew and foliage weaving into one another held its silver, glossy eyes to the penumbra of the sky above. The pale skin that had once been shrouded in a blanket of life had faded, ripped at its seams by either the flora that knitted into its meat.

With a stalk of white emerging from a gaping hole between yellowed bone and cartilage spiked through the chest of what lay in the center of the road, blooms a large cap, dark in coloration as if to contrast the pale of everything below it. Pinkish-red rope leaks from the corpse, lined with ivy that circles around their bloodied exterior, held by the jaws of a humanoid silhouette.

Constance can’t fight the hushed scream in her throat, the nearby cliff welcoming her as her hands instinctively attempt to veer away from the shadow, causing a deafening shriek to sound from the tires, quickly throwing her foot over the brake in an attempt to stabilize the vehicle as Nez’s mouth opens in horror and braces himself for impact, his hands flying for the dash and assist grip. However, the dragon in the backseat is not willing to allow the vehicle to continue its deviation from the path, their eyebrows knitting together as they move from their position of widespread legs to lunge between the seats.

Of course, they didn’t think it was selfish to take charge of the wheel, when the other option is to send the van careening off the side of a steep cliff that looms like the jaws of an awaiting beast. A flash of deep crimson echoes in Constance’s peripheral vision, causing her to instinctively dodge her head closer to the window in a moment of shock. Nez shudders a breath through closed teeth, golden eyes widened and centered on the two creatures on the other end of the car.

No thoughts can occur as scaled hands grip tightly against the leather of the steering wheel, claws digging into the material as Ikari jerks their hand to the left, reversing Constance’s lurch to the right. However, it seems clear that their movement is not quite stable as the sound of a primal scream echoes under the quickly accelerating wheels, followed by a sickening thud of wheel against marrow and a large amount of muscle, followed by a more resolute lift of the behind of the vehicle, Ikari allowing their body to shift with the impact, relaxing as the weight of the vehicle restabilizes. “Just let it happen,” They advise, concern attempting to hide itself on their scaled face.

Voice wavering as the other finally pulls back and returns to their spread position in the backseat, Constance finally sucks in a breath, quickly jerking her head to the dragon, though her face lacks the anger that one would expect from their steering wheel being stolen right under their nose. “We hit them, should we go back and see if they were okay?”

Nez shakes his head in response, finally allowing his hand to drift away from the assist grip to rest on his forehead, pushing up his glasses with his wrist in doing so. “One of them had a mushroom growing on it, and the other was eating at it, I don’t think it’s safe.”

Ikari glares out through the windshield in response, nodding slightly along to the human’s words. “The paper boy’s right.” Crossing their arms over their chest and blowing a strand of hair away from their eyes.

“Step on it, and don’t look back. We don’t have time for pity.”