✧ - rule the world

[zara3447]

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𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚊
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The world was falling apart around her, and she was so, so tired.

Thalia let her head fall back against the wall, cold concrete stairs digging into her back. Fingernails carved into the leather of the switchblade's hilt. She wished it was a bottle neck instead, something hard enough to stop the train of her thoughts, speeding towards an inevitable collision course. The sound of her heartbeat pounded low in her head, its timbre like thunder, or the rumble of Asher's laugh.

No. This illusion of privacy was no real permission to grieve, even a little. Her sister had left an hour ago, could return at any moment. If not for herself, then she had to be strong for Ames' sake. Besides, the Spiders' Second was imprisoned in the cellar, mere feet away. Unconscious, sure, but it wasn't a good enough excuse. This was not the time or the place to break down.

Don't think about him, put it out of your thoughts, banish it to the back of your mind. You cannot think about him, not now. You can't afford to cry. She found herself doing so anyways. Traitorous, traitorous body. Traitorous, traitorous mind. She couldn't get his eyes out of her head, both the crystalline blue of before, and the milky, gone pale in the seconds before his death.

Tears welled beneath closed lids, catching on fine lashes, spilling like rain. Sitting up, she wiped them away with angry swipes of her palms. The taste of dust in her mouth, drifting on an invisible wind, fine particles stirred into motion by her movements. She breathed them in like snowflakes, settling in her lungs with every inhale. Still couldn't find any air.

The singing started softly, almost hoarse, smoothing out as it rose in volume. Baring her teeth in a soundless snarl, she cursed Nyx for the hundredth time. Roughly wiping away the last traces of her wetness lingering on her cheeks, she pocketed the knife and stood. Were her eyes red? She hoped they weren't. There was nothing to be done for it, anyways.

Ten steps to the door, and with each, she shoved the emotions back down. Into the prison of her heart, where they belonged, and may they rot there a good, long while. She was a fool for letting them out once. She wouldn't be so stupid again. It was with a stone face that she entered the cellar, stance instantly settling into something loose and wary.

She took in Nyx's downturned face, the tension in their muscles, and the nearly imperceptible sway of vertigo. "Still alive, I see. I confess to some small measure of disappointment." Approaching them, she caught them by the shoulder, tilting their head up with two fingers in a light press beneath their chin. Midnight eyes surveyed the pale cast of their skin, contrasting with the stubborn set of their mouth. She offered a mirthless smile. "At least we know the antidote is effective."

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𝚔𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚎
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Kaisie wasn't usually one for uncertainty, but something made her hesitate, lingering in the shadows beneath the corner of the convenience store. A nameless fear, light yet suffocating, pressed down on her shoulders. Would Amalia run? Shoot? The daughter of Alan Graves tracking and accosting a girl while she was all alone on the street sounded alarming, even in her own head.

And beyond that, there was the small matter of what she'd come here to do. Was it going to mark her as a traitor? It left a sour taste on her tongue, little flutters of panic stirring in her chest. Yes, it was a betrayal of the Ravens. But honor dictated that she returned the life debt owed to the young Belrose sister. Her father would understand. Wouldn't he?

Well, she had come all the way out here to make her grave. She may as well go lie in it.

Before she had a chance to announce her presence, one of the kelpies made the decision for her. With a quiet yip, the pup came bounding over, sniffing at her brown boots. "Hey there, honey. You're too smart for me, huh?" Expression chagrined, Kaisie stepped out into the sunlight, hands lifted in a gesture of supplication.

"Firstly, I'd like to acknowledge that yes, this looks bad. My apologies for causing you any distress. Please give me a chance to explain." She met Amalia's gaze, brows knitted. "I swear I didn't mean to linger like a psycho stalker. I guess I wasn't brave enough to approach. But that's neither useful nor relevant. I came here for a reason."

"The Ravens are planning an attack on your base. I figured I owed you a warning in the very least."

[sataraxias]

──( NYX )──
They could’ve kept singing their lovely little song, but they didn’t remember all the words anyway, and she was right there in front of them. Their jaw clenched at the contact, but they stayed motionless with no move to attempt an attack. They were a caged animal cornered, and she the warden of their little makeshift prison.

Their brown eyes aligned firmly with hers, taking her in. Eyes rimmed by desperate red, the slight smudges of water-disturbed filth on her cheeks. Tears were harder to hide at the end of the world, when filth and dirt clung to every surface including the souls of the damned. She was trying, though, resiliently attempting to slot a mask firmly into place. But they knew something about seeing through masks.

They already knew the words they could say. A thousand cuts they could use to slice that careful mask right off, get that fragile heart pumping so loud that it blocked out all of her careful reason. They knew how desperately this quiet, fierce soul wished she could take the air out of their lungs and give it to someone far more deserving.

They considered, the quip lingering on the tip of their tongue, the ‘I know somebody that antidote didn’t work on, apparently’, but really it’d be kinder to just spit in her face, and by Nyx’s own standards that was uncouth and disgusting. Besides-- Nyx’s gaze shifted downwards to the barest peek of a black cord, just visible at her neckline. She knew her own failure. No need to call her out.

Instead, they smirked, their uninjured arm rising slowly to cup her face. A finger swiped slowly and gently at her cheek, smoothing over it in a silent - and perhaps cruel - indication to let her know they’d seen and recognised her weakness. A quietly defiant I see you to a woman who’d tried to hide behind her strong poker face.

──( AMALIA )──
Something gave her pause as she stepped outside. A figure slightly obscured in the shadows, caught by her peripherals. Instantly on edge, her knife was out again as she whirled-- but Spartan was already bounding over with a quiet yip, much to her confusion. Amalia tensed, but the voice that followed was familiar. Damn Asher’s overly friendly dog. Spartan defined trustworthy as “pet me once”. If only that was a good system.

She blinked. “Kaisie?”

The drop in her stomach as Kay said her piece was sudden and almost dizzying. She forced herself to pull in a breath and think through it. First everything that had happened with the Spiders and Asher- and now the Ravens were on their backs, too? Bad luck seemed to come in waves. She only hoped her and her sister could stay afloat through the flood. Time to tie her courage to the sticking place and ensure she didn’t fail. “If that’s true, come with me then,” she said, and her voice was cold, accusatory. Because how would those ravens even know where to find her and Tali, if not for this short, autumn haired young lady in front of her…

She lifted her chin, eyebrows raised as she stared coolly at the other girl, knife still out. Every creeper and their mother knew of Alan Graves’ lethal over protectiveness of his dearest only child. Ames didn’t want to hurt her, but if she was useful... She knew that much. The apocalypse had let coldness into her heart, but it hadn’t taken all of the warmth- and there was something about the girl that caught her attention that she couldn’t quite pinpoint. But that wasn’t relevant here.

It was her and her sister against the world. And if she had to fight for her sister, she would fight tooth and nail, claw and tail. Stars could hide their fires and let darkness shield her heart because emotions had to be pushed aside and practicality allowed to take over. She didn’t have the time to waste, but still she lingered, eyes completely focused on Kay. Fierce, but also pleading- pleading her to come willingly. Then the attention snapped away, the eye contact dropped. She just couldn’t wait. “If you’re genuine about wanting to warn me,” she said quietly, final attempt. “Be genuine about going the distance to help.”

And then she was running, calling for the two dogs to follow her as she bolted towards home.

[zara3447]

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𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚊
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Thalia met their knowing gaze, loathing and vulnerability in equal measures. The feather-light touch, gentle and mocking, a face she couldn't look away from. She wanted to lean in, wanted to someone to hold her, wanted to get her hands on a knife and make them bleed. Oh, how she truly did hate them in this moment.

Her arms fell to a loose, crossed position as she stepped away, fingers concealed between the folds of her jacket. She clutched at her sides tight enough to leave bruises. To physically restrain them from murder, or more likely, as a reminder to hold herself together. The hard line of her mouth never wavered, but her eyes betrayed her. They darted to a bite mark, and she had to drop her gaze, lest Nyx read the true extent of her weakness. She had a feeling that it was much too late, anyways.

"Are you going to try to die again, anytime soon?" She asked, in lieu of a full examination. She should have done a hands on check, especially with them visibly sporting injuries, but she didn't think her impassive mask could survive it. A quick glance informed her that while they wouldn't be comfortable, they'd keep to their feet. She'd changed the bandage around their arm just hours ago, so it would hold up fine for now. "If not, I suppose I have the dubious honor of informing you that you are officially our hostage. Congratulations. We do in fact have cake to celebrate."

Gesturing for Nyx to follow, she purposefully turned her back to them. A dare, almost, for them to try anything. Though she'd never admit it, she almost wished they would. Just so she could let out some of that pent up emotion, disguised as rage in a violent fistfight. If there was one thing she could respect from Nyx, it was their ability to take a punch. Probably a result of provoking too many from Harlow.

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𝚔𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚎
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"Amalia," Kaisie quipped back lightly at her stunned expression, "I suppose it's good to see you again, even with all things considered." The humor dropped from her expression at the blonde's next words. Go with her? Her father would kill her. Well, he'd kill her for what she'd done anyways. What did it matter if she was dead twenty times over instead of ten?

Brilliant eyes rooted her to the spot. For a second, she couldn't breathe beneath the intensity. When the words were out and the focus adverted, she let out a long breath. Even the puppy at her feet seemed to sense the gravity of the situation, sitting back and regarding her solemnly. Kaisie shook her head, not in denial, but acquiescence. Alright. She'd go the distance then. Might as well, considering how much she'd risked already by sneaking out of the Ravens' base and delivering a warning behind their backs.

Launching into a run, she followed Amalia through vaguely familiar streets, letting her mind drift. She'd tried to talk her father out of the raid, initially. Alan wasn't having any of it. "They are our antidotes, Kay. I don't care if Harlow stole them first, the Belroses are marked as thieves too by their current possession of them. I appreciate that they helped you out the other day, but we can't let this go unanswered." She wanted to point out that they'd technically stolen the antidotes too, from a bunch of dead scientists in a ruined laboratory, but it wouldn't have done her argument any good. When Alan Graves had determined his path, you'd best get out of the way. Even if you were someone he loved. Perhaps especially if you were someone he loved. Because it hurt that much more when he bodily moved you aside to bull right past on his chosen course. Learned from experience. Kaisie let a small smile creep over her lips, half fondness, half sadness.

They arrived at the warehouse in what seemed to be a blink of an eye, both of them slightly winded from the run. "Is," she hesitated a moment before the entrance, "your zombie infestation absolved?" There was no delicate way to word it, and Kaisie was trying her best not to prod too sharply at still-raw wounds. Unease slithered down her spine, coiling in her gut at the memories of her screamer encounter the last time.

Well, she'd put a lot of faith in Amalia already. In both the Belroses, really. What was a little more? She stepped inside.

[sataraxias]

──( NYX )──
The smug smirk on Nyx’s face only widened as she stepped back from him in a few desperately measured steps. They let their hand fall, sliding it into the pocket of their cargo pants. “Fret not,” they remarked, knowing well where her gaze had fallen, knowing well why it skipped away. Maybe someone else would’ve cared. Take a breath, Tali. Take a step away, because I see right through you. “I might as well be a cockroach, that’s how hardy I am.”

They remained motionless as their gaze followed her turning back, propping themselves against the wall. They imagined closing the distance, doing the job they’d come to do originally, calculating their options carefully. There certainly wasn’t a lack of them. But while they’d always been an opportunist, they’d also always preferred to play black on a chess board, and this happened to be checkers. They’d do what they’d came to do, soon. Just probably not in the cellar.

“I hope that that cake wasn’t intended to celebrate your dear brother’s speedy recovery, since… he… you know…” even though she couldn’t see, Nyx drew a finger over their neck and made a sharp sound through their teeth. “If you’re curious I can tell you exactly how it felt for him, just so you know exactly what I’ll be sparing you and your sister when I take my antidotes back.”

They followed her willingly, at a distance. Nyx paused, the expression on their flat flat even as their voice was carefully cultivated to be cheerful and infuriatingly friendly, “You know, you seem really on edge babe, try relaxing. Will it help if I offer you some congratulations on your recent hostage acquisition? Is this your first time? I feel like it is.”

They heard it- the sharp cry from above, the crisp, cold voice of the second Belrose sister from above them, and then their own First's challenge. Nyx grimaced, just barely. “And I was so looking forward to that cake.” They lunged for the weapon at her side, but steady feet failed them with the motion, weakness a lingering souvenir of injury's presence.

──( HARLOW)──
She’d shot the messenger. That’d been a thing that had happened, and it’d happened quick.

It wasn’t the fact that her idiotic Second hadn’t even appeared to have gone back to base to supply themselves with weapons or backup that had her so edge. It wasn’t the lack of communication, though that’d had her restless, too. No word - nothing - for two damn days had grated at her, but it’d been bearable. It was the fact that when word had come, it hadn’t come from them. It’d come from a quivering coward who couldn’t even look her in the eye as he spoke of a certain familiar bike abandoned at the curb of some street.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to trust her Second, it was that they had suddenly made a habit of proving themselves completely incompetent. It was the fact that her Third was gone and she ached with fury from the loss, and Alexander Tyche had only seemed to give completion of her demands for vengeance the barest amount of effort possible. It was the fact that Thalia and Amalia Belrose weren’t six feet beneath, and the fact that Nyx hadn’t put them there yet. It was the fact that apparently she had to do everything herself.

So yes. She’d seen red, and she’d shot the messenger. She’d absolutely shot the messenger from toe-to-head with a vengeance and fury that, while it couldn’t revive the damned, had sure given her relief from the building anger inside her. A vengeance and fury that had the whole gang silent around her before she’d snapped at them to “keep on with whatever the hell you idiots are doing.”

And then she’d set about an hour’s planning, picking out the party of seven that’d come with her. Getting into the warehouse had been easy enough - they’d left their bikes a street over and set up a perimeter watching the streets while her and four of her spiders had gone inside to wait.

Lo and behold, down fell the rose’s petals into her web, and the first move had been the spider’s but the second was the insolent Belrose. Her blood boiled and she willingly accepted the fight, willingly took it in stride as Amalia struggled, as her nose struck and poured crimson - but enough was enough when the pathetic audacity of the cornered sister sent her precious hat flying.

One of her spiders restrained the girl, and Harlow had her weapon out and pointed. And it’d be so, so easy, but she held herself back, whirling as her attention was directed by Ames on to the other individual she’d been too preoccupied to notice earlier. Her spiders had acted quick. Harlow’s narrowed gaze fell on the similarly restrained Kay, her lips curving in a cruel imitation of a smile. There’d long been unfinished business between them…

Soon.

Harlow turned away, facing the warehouse as her voice sang out a challenge to the woman who’d killed her Third. “Face me, Thalia!”

──( AMALIA )──
She tugged in a breath to catch air after the run, intense eyes on Kay. “Yes,” was all she said, and then she was leading the way inside before her mind dared linger on that zombie, that somebody she’d used to know. She stepped inside, and her nerves flared by the feeling of wrongness in the dark room, but bravely she continued her way in. And then a well-aimed kick sent her sprawling with a cry of surprise, a harsh tug at her hair pulling her into restrained hold. She regretted ever sheathing her knife.

There was nothing Amalia could ever say, nothing that she could scream out that would ever make her sister turn and leave her behind if she was still somewhere in the warehouse, not after the cry of alarm she’d made. Not if Amalia stood tangled in a spider’s web facing a firing squad. Hell or high water, the Belroses stood by each other- whether there was three or two, together forever because that’s what she did. So instead, she channelled it, every role she’d ever attempted to play, the resilience of characters she’d become. Every Lady Macbeth, every Desdemona, every Angelica Schuyler, every Wendy Darling, every Emma - every character of defiance and scorn in adversity…This was just another role to play, and fear had no part in it.

Amalia jutted her chin up and met the cruel green gaze of a spider queen. “It’s gone,” she said, choking out the words, letting them ring out desperately triumphant as she forced out a high laugh. “Your antidote’s gone, Harlow, six feet under like your triangle, and I smashed the vial too, you got that? You’re never, ever, getting it back.”

Nyx’s vial was around her neck, carefully hidden beneath the folds of her shirt. She felt its presence clearly - and her words wouldn’t hold up if Harlow got too close. She leaned forward with what little give she had and spat, shortly before she burst into motion with a screech that rivalled the living dead, quick reactionary movements that freed her arms and had her springing quickly for the spider queen.

Her coup de force failed, her arms soon restrained again by the death grip of another thug spider subduing her, but she noted with satisfaction the collateral, the blood pouring from the nose she’d clocked, the dumb hat that had been sent halfway across a room. She panted, lips pulled back in a scowl as she faced that pistol. Let it never be said that Amalia Belrose had arachnophobia.

Her gaze shifted, saw Kaisie restrained just like her, and the hardness on her face softened, just briefly. “Sorry,” she told the girl, and her voice carried through the warehouse space. “Turns out we’ve a new pest problem springing up.”

[zara3447]

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𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚊
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She'd been preoccupied with ignoring Nyx's jabs when the sounds of a scuffle erupted above their heads. A sharp, familiar voice rang out in challenge and Thalia's world slowed to a crawl. Only for a moment, and then everything rushed back in dizzying focus. Words tossed at her back, movement at the corner of her eye. Whirling instinctively, her hands reached up. She didn't know who was more surprised between her and Nyx when she caught them from their face-plant. Shock flashed across her face, quickly replaced by a distracted irritation. "You're lowering my already meager estimate of your intelligence, Tyche."

She wanted to rush up the stairs, get to her sister, plug Harlow full of bullets while she was at it. But she had to keep calm, remote, detached from every emotion that would make her lose her head. She breathed deep, gave herself the span of a breath to reassemble that titanium armor. Piece by visible piece, she drew everything in, letting a flawless cold facade fall in its place. Flat blues found the bitter coffee gaze of the individual still in her grasp. She slipped behind them, side pressed against the solid heat of their back. A forearm braced across their chest, the other hand lifting her pistol. Muzzle pressed to their temple, safety clicked off. "Do try to redeem yourself here, yes? Walk."

They made a measured pace, up the stairs, across the aisles, footsteps echoing in tandem on the worn concrete. Adrenaline buzzed in her veins, so strong she was shaking subtly against her hostage, but it didn't detract from the lethal intensity written on every inch of her skin. Amalia, I'm coming.

When they reached the gathering, she pulled Nyx to a standstill, eyes roving the scene. Her sister, still glaring defiantly, blonde hair a mess as she faced the pistol held by a bloody-nosed Harlow. Her signature hat, on the ground by Kaisie Graves's feet. Both of them restrained by Spiders, grim featured and armed to the teeth. Thalia turned a stony look to their queen, promise of retribution burning bright. A clash of wills between two hard faced women all too ready to spill blood. Slowly, an empty, awful smile stretched across her face, matching Harlow-s own. She'd have to be blind to not recognize it for the threat it was. Sharp, daring them all to test her edges, wanting to watch them cut themselves open on it. She inclined her head towards her enemy. "Harlow. What business?"

Harlow had her sister. Thalia had her Second. It was a stalemate, a face off, and there was no way to break it that wouldn't end in bloodshed. She just hoped it would be Spider blood, and not Belrose.

┏━━━━━━━━━┓
𝚔𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚎
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She just couldn't stop making mistakes these days it seemed. Hissing at the trap sprung upon them, she debated fighting back. Made the split second determination that it would do no good. Even her draw would not be faster than the bullet from a chamber cocked, loaded, and already pointed at her face. Rough hands dragged her further inside, bound her wrists in their iron clasp. Hot breath at her ear, a towering mountain of threat behind her. More Spiders looming off to the side, dangerous for all that they were merely goons.

Harlow's infamous hat flying off to settle at her feet had Kaisie raising her head. She settled a mute gaze on Amalia, hazel eyes dark. No accusation, just a touch of regret. Her lips twisted at the halfhearted attempt at humor all wrapped up in an apology. She didn't offer up false reassurances, knowing full well that neither of them were at fault in this situation, but it didn't matter at all.

The leader of the Spiders had long been a familiar feature in her nightmares. Even after all this time, that acid-green glare sent an instinctive shiver of cold through her. The old scar on her abdomen throbbed, hidden beneath layers of clothing. She wasn't scared. Maybe if she told herself the lie enough, it would be indistinguishable from the truth.

Her father wouldn't kill her for her stupidity, because the Spiders were going to beat him to it.

[sataraxias]

──( NYX )──
It was Nyx. They were the one more surprised by far, because that was exactly how the move they’d been intending to pull was supposed to not go. The world wasn’t granting them any grace lately, and they blamed Corey for the whole thing. Including the gun now firmly appointed as a companion to their temples. Nyx was smart enough to resign themselves to having to take a walk.

Casually, they sauntered along, knowing with every step that their happy little hostage holder wished they were moving faster. They got her there eventually, rolling their eyes as they paused to take in the scene. Their gaze drifted, accounting for the members of their own quaint murderous gang and the small raven. They pulled a small smile. There was irony to be found at Kay being held under the same roof in the same spot for the second time in a matter of days.

Their gaze moved onwards to find the blood dripping down Harlow’s face, the ruffled state of her hair with a conspicuously absent hat. “You look absolutely feral, dearest Harly,” they observed, and they couldn’t hide the crooked delight that managed to slip into the words. “You got got good. Who else agrees?”

None of the spiders were stupid enough to dare to agree with them. It was a shame. Cowards, the lot of them. They found her hat easily, perched limply by Kay’s feet. If their First had a child, it would’ve been that hat and damned if she didn’t worship it; she cherished it like she was a soccer mom named Susan and her son-hat had just scored a goal at the game.

In defence of their howling guffaw which cut across any attempts of negotiation, it was really, really funny.

──( HARLOW)──
There were three things Harlow absolutely detested. Loathed, with the entirety of her being.

One. She detested being defied. Her hat was on the ground near the feet of Kaisie Graves, knocked there by the desperate, pathetic attempts of an insolent child trying to escape the consequence of her own actions. Pest problem… Thalia Belrose may have killed her third - but Amalia’s hands were stained red too. She hadn’t forgotten the flash-bang which had summoned the hordes and contributed to the death of multiple spiders, and oh, her heart burned gleefully and cruelly for the retribution she was soon to gain.

Two. She hated being challenged. That stupid smile of the woman stood arrogantly in front of her who held her Nyx with a gun to their temples. Her grin matched the lethality of Tali’s expression. Hardened green gaze, scythe smile of a reaper demanding souls as payment for the wrongs that had been done. Blood dripped on to her lip. She wiped it with her sleeve and a sniff.

Three. She detested being laughed at. Especially by one who had completely failed her. She’d given her orders in no uncertain terms, calling for the elimination of the sisters for their wrongs. She’d even let them entertain the belief of getting their dogs. When she asked for something done, she expected it done. She hadn't gotten to where she was by giving out chances. She hadn't survived the end of the world by letting people ignore her - by letting people laugh at her failure. Her eyes connected with her foolish Second’s, a glower that warned them to shut up. Unfortunately, Nyx was the kind of person to take warning signs as friendly advice, and they only laughed harder.

Her eyes found the bandage on their arm. Briefly, she entertained the idea of treason. Was her Second working with these sisters? Was that why they’d failed to kill Thalia in an even match? Was that why they’d let themselves get captured? They’d certainly never held any fondness for Corey - and now they laughed at her, invited others to laugh at her. Was Nyx, her closest ally, working to destroy her? She couldn’t be sure now, couldn't push those creeping doubts away, and that infuriated her. Red flickered in the edges of her vision, a flood begging to be unleashed.

She moved her gaze back to Thalia. “Oh darling,” she rolled the word on her tongue sweetly with the venom of one who had worked retail and negotiated with troublesome customers; deadly, falsified calm. “Hand over the antidotes and Alexander- and maybe your sister will get to live a while longer.”

──( AMALIA )──
Amalia had implored Kay to follow, practically begged her to come the distance. What she hadn’t done was stop to consider that the distance wasn’t one Kaisie Graves should have to cross, hadn’t stopped to consider that going the distance was sometimes going too far.

For the second time in a span of days, Kay had found herself held hostage because of her. Maybe it shouldn’t have mattered to her so much. Kaisie Graves wasn’t a Belrose. She was a Raven- which logically, should’ve meant she was an enemy. It should’ve been as simple as that… Why wasn’t it?

Kay was just like her, troubles and demons of her own. Harlow inspired fear in anyone brave, but that frightened look on her face was something else. Something personal, something so deep and real and her that even the most disciplined of actors would struggle to imitate. It wasn’t just fear, either - it was a strong combination of bravery, anticipation and resolve, too. Ames could appreciate that kind of resilient determination. Something similar was probably what kept her and her sister going most days.

Amalia swallowed a lump in her throat and moved her gaze from Kay towards her sister, briefly taking in Nyx before she lifted her gaze to meet Thalia’s. Her lips curved up to manage a smile. Damsel in distress wasn't a role she typically liked to play, but she trusted her sister to be her saving grace every time.

[zara3447]

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𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚊
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For the barest instant, Thalia was tempted, oh so tempted, to pull the trigger. She wanted to feel the recoil snap against the tense lines of her body, watch the expression on the Spider Queen's face as another lieutenant died beneath her vicious, vengeful hands; it would damn them all to the same terrible end that this world was inevitably spinning towards. In another life, she'd sworn oaths to heal, to do no harm, but what use were flimsy words when lives dangled on a bloodied silk thread? Her gun hand trembled. Eagerness or forced restraint, she could no longer tell. Either way, it didn't bode well for her captive.

Her captive, who was currently laughing their fool head off, at the most inopportune moment. Nyx's body shook with the force of their chortling, and it was all she could do to brace them both steady. If she had any emotional capacity left, she would almost be concerned. As it was, she was simply torn between mild annoyance and irrational amusement at their antics.

Biting back a sigh, she leveled a steely look at Harlow. "That's not a very smart offer, Harlow. I'm sure you can come up with something better if you really tried. I'm unsure if any of your cronies ever found the balls to tell you this, but it is in fact possible to negotiate without sounding like a second rate Disney villain." One dark gold brow rose ever so slightly, the rest of her features cold as frostbite. "You'd like your dear Second back with most of his vital parts still attached. I'd like you to get your filthy inbred mutt of a thug off of Amalia. I believe we can come to a mutually satisfactory compromise."

She dared another glance around, gaze catching on Ames's for a long heartbeat. The sheer trust of her sister's expression was armor, and it was thorns. It told her, this is what you fight for, and also, this is why you cannot afford to fail. But her mind was spinning feverishly, and she still couldn't see a way that would take them both out of this situation unscathed.

The faintest sound scraped the edge of her hearing, all the more alarming for its furtive muffling. The scuff of a blundering footstep? The drag of clothing caught on some sharp edge, tearing away? The instincts that had kept her alive this long reared up, stealing her focus away from a scene she couldn't afford to be distracted from.

She caught herself too late.

┏━━━━━━━━━┓
𝚔𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚎
┖━━━━━━━━━┚

Iron fingers banded around her wrists, an immovable arm about her torso locking her midsection in place. The dark barrel of pistol muzzles stared her down like empty, unforgiving eyes. The Spider's First was a stone's throw away, radiating menace, promising a slower, crueler death than the one she'd almost given her years ago. Kaisie had barely merited a glance--in fact, Harlow had likely been looking at her hat rather than her captive--but she still shuddered beneath that brief appraisal. It was her personal hell, a scene come to life from her nightmares or memories or something in between.

Liquid, dark eyes gleamed from the shadows beneath a low shelf, barely discernable even to her keen vision. One of the dogs, creeping closer. She tried to project a warning with her gaze, not stopping to marvel at the good sense of the pups to hide when trouble sprung its web upon them all. The message must have gotten through somehow, because the eyes disappeared again moments later. She tried not to miss the shallow comfort of a kelpie's presence, and was not entirely successful.

Harlow and the other Belrose sister were sniping at each other; she forcibly tuned the exchange out. Even if Thalia succeeded in negotiating a life to save, it would not be hers. She had no allies here, only newer enemies on top of ancient ones, no matter how badly she wanted to believe that she'd made friends with Amalia at least.

It struck her then that she did not want to die, but more importantly, she did not want to go out quiet and compliant like she'd been all her life. Especially not after the spirited display of her companion, all firecracker and blazing, falling star still, despite the futility of their situation. She'd borrow some boldness from the slate-eyed Belrose sister for now, as it was unlikely that she'd live long enough to find some of her own. Inhaling a lungful of sour fear, metallic steel, and bitter gunpowder, she stared her own mortality in the face, and made her peace with it.

Exhaling, she slanted her face up to the Spider currently holding her captive. "Could I trouble you to take your hand off my chest? Unfortunately, slovenly and barbaric isn't generally my type." And she tacked on a sweet, sweet smile for good measure.

At best, her manners would confuse him enough to actually give her some space. At worst, it would catch him off guard enough that she could make a distraction, and perhaps save a life or two before she inevitably surrendered her own.

[sataraxias]

fun fact! my writing steadily gets worse the further down you go! :)

──( NYX )──
Nyx was a jack of all trades, it was true, but even so, telepathy did not number amongst one of their many talents. However, that didn’t matter. If eyes were a window to the soul, the emerald eyes that met theirs showed venomous conflict. It was not difficult to guess at Harlow’s thoughts, because they knew her. Better than anyone, better than even her family from before. There was a bond there, an intrinsic link between two survivors who’d clawed their way up from six feet deep.

Talk about forged in the fires of Mt Doom at Mordor...

She hadn’t said it out loud. She wouldn’t, because she was a predator taunting prey, but they heard her thoughts loud and clear. I gave you a second chance, Alexander, and I don’t do that for anyone. I’m not giving you a third.

They laughed, harder and harder, cutting over Harlow and Thalia’s attempts. A cackling sound that filled the room. Laughter was good. Laughter defined them as a fool and distracted from all else: the slight narrowing of gaze and the fire in their eyes as Nyx understood, the way they moved slowly against Thalia to position themselves better.

A position as precarious as they’d found themselves in, the move shouldn’t have worked, but damn if they didn’t have a knack for pathetic luck. Their laughter cut off in a split second as Nyx jerked their hand up, wrestling the gun from Tali’s grip as they curled their leg behind hers and twisted. The two of them fell at much the same time as Harlow fired, hitting the ground as the bullet whistled behind them and embedded itself firmly into the wall.

Nyx detached themselves from Thalia rather quickly, rolling to catch the gun they’d knocked from grip. Their body, still tired and strained from injury protested, but the adrenaline of yet another fight filled them as they forced it to work with them. Me or them - and the them was now their former allies.

“Buzzfeed quiz, which Disney villain are you? Bet you’re Cruella de Ville. You know, from that dog movie?” They flashed another grin at Harlow, loving the indignation on that bloodied face. They also loved the shocked stillness of their former allies, because it allowed for an escape they otherwise would not have been able to make.

Not that they were escaping. Not just yet. So much more to do. Quick calculations, quick ideas. They were not the collateral damage created by some Belrose scheme, a loss that Harlow figured that she could just take. Not after all they’d been through. They created collateral damage.

“Move,” they said, and they pulled Tali along with them as they scrambled to get behind one of the aisles of shelving. They ducked down. Their voice held the cheerful remnants of laughter, but there was a rage quivering in the depths beneath it. For one who struggled to feel emotions, she’d sure got their blood pumping hot, “I suppose I shouldn’t take that personally, eh, Harley?”

No time for her to reply. They sprung up, finger on the trigger of the .45. They let loose, a well-aimed missive finding its mark as chaos sprung into being. Bet you didn’t expect that, huh, Harlow darling? Then they were moving again, away from the Belrose sister, weaving behind the shelves to dash into and across the open space.

With a grim grin at Harlow, Nyx stole her hat. Perhaps she was shocked by the boldness of such an idiotic move, but they survived it. With a little flourish, they placed it firmly on their head and gave a tiny wave goodbye as they disappeared out the open door.

──( HARLOW)──
later, am lazy as heck atm

──( AMALIA )──
If only she could just get back to her knife, or even her gun. But the arm around her held her firm, a warning encouraging inaction. She held her chin as resolutely as she could and kept herself still, but her gaze went to Kay in her peripheral. The other girl leaned back against her own captor, with a smile as sweet as honey and words as cold as broken glass in an ice-bucket.

She puzzled those words over, finding significance in them that given the situation, her mind shouldn’t wander to. What was her type? Amalia pushed out a breath and readjusted her attention, gaze going back to Thalia. Her sister’s gaze had grown distant, distracted by something beyond her comprehension. Silently, slate blue eyes pleaded with her to return. Come back to me, Tali. I need you. She would. Of course she would. All she could do was wait.

Or perhaps she waited too long- perhaps she should’ve called out. Nyx sent themselves and her sister flying, right as a bullet whittled past them. She resisted the urge to cry out to her sister, knocked prone by the surprise of it all, but Nyx was moving and pulling Tali along.

Their words, their obnoxious voice, rang in her mind. ‘You know, from that dog movie?’

And where were their dogs? They’d certainly know if Harlow’s cronies had found them. Her merciless persecution of the Belrose family surely carried out to their pets. She could call them to her, but they could only do so much.

And then, bang. Amalia found her opportunity in the violent peace that a thug standing nearby discovered. The suddenness of the shot distracted her own goon, and she rose to the occasion with a scream of “aye aye, Captain!” that sent her precious pup flying into the action from -- shockingly close by? She wondered how she hadn’t noticed Cap before, lurking beneath the nearby shelves, but it didn’t matter. She wrenched herself free, seizing the knife at her side. She was no Wendy Darling now, held captive by the pirates in Neverland - she was one among the ranks of those ferocious pirates, fighting tooth and nail to survive.

[zara3447]

┏━━━━━━━━━┓
𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚊
┖━━━━━━━━━┚

It happened so fast, all Tali could do was brace for the fall. A gunshot cracked above their heads. They hit the ground gracelessly in a tangle of limbs, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs. An elbow crashed into her temple, sending her vision reeling. It was enough for Nyx to disentangle themselves and snatch up her fallen gun. Their taunting voice echoed from above her, and she forced herself to focus on the source of the sound.

Sucking in a ragged gasp of air, she shoved to her feet with murderous intent, only to have her forearm clasped in Nyx's firm grip and forcibly dragged with them. And then they were behind a wall of crates, and Nyx was shooting at a bulky, dreadlocked Spider. Tali couldn't fathom why. She levelled an incredulous look at the maniacally grinning brunet. "Did you hit your head too, or have you lost your mind?"

Nyx didn't bother to reply, springing out of their hiding place back into the open area. A few dramatic motions later, they were out the door, taking with them her pistol and Harlow's hat. Tali stared into the empty air behind them, pulse a drumbeat in her ears. "Alexander, I'm going to kill you."

The noises of the fighting snapped her back to her senses, yells and grunts and the scream of bullets. The scuffle was still going strong. And Nyx has taken her gun, leaving her unarmed but for her hunting knife. A dire litany of profanity started up in her head as she crept around the corner of the shelves.

A swift takedown of some unlucky Spider grunt later, Tali was once again armed and ready for a fight. Before she could throw herself back into the fray, the distant pounding of running footsteps caught her attention. A lot of them. Oh, hell.

She jammed the stolen gun into her belt and sprinted into the open space, gaze skipping right over the comically shocked and furiously pissy face of Harlow. A familiar figure with a head of golden waves slammed into a Spider, knife flashing, the dark blur of a pup at her side. A surge of emotion swelled beneath her breastbone, an odd commingling of fierce pride and dull heartache. They'd come so far, lost so much, and survived so much more. They might still die yet.

Making a beeline for her sister, she pursed her lips and whistled the three shrill blasts of the disengage signal. Company, incoming. Most likely trouble.

┏━━━━━━━━━┓
𝚔𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚎
┖━━━━━━━━━┚

Everything went from zero to sixty really damn fast.

Nyx moved, Harlow moved, and then they were all moving as the area erupted into pandemonium. Her eye was drawn to the tall, lithe form of Amalia Belrose flying at her former captor with a warcry. She was, in short, glorious. Despite the chaos, it was very, very hard for Kay not to notice her graceful limbs and the bright danger in her expression. It was a crime that the apocalypse had shattered all those silver screens before this girl could grace them.

She realized a moment later that her guard hadn't moved either, staring at the blonde bombshell with an equally captivated gaze, expression caught somewhere between awe and horror. "Looking good in leather is her superpower," Kay nodded amicably, and socked him in the face.

Ducking under the spray of blood gushing from his broken nose, she drew her guns, reveling in the feel of her darlings back in her hands. She aimed to disable, not kill, but every shot filled her with a burst of adrenaline nonetheless. Spiders went down like wheat beneath a reaper's scythe, but more stepped forward in the span of a lighting quick reload. She pushed forward relentlessly.

Until.

Like a spectre, Harlow loomed out of nowhere, towering over her. Green eyes, narrowed with hatred and wild with rage, the lower half of her face a mask of blood. The black barrel of a gun in one hand, the merciless silver of a knife in the other. Kaisie forgot how to breathe, a bolt of agony (imagined? Real?) spearing through her stomach. She was sixteen again, hand pressed to her belly, trying to keep her insides from spilling out.

She barely even felt it when the Spider Queen caught her shoulders in a vicious grip, too busy fighting against the wave of memories threatening to drown her. The demon of her past and the demon of her present, here to drag her down at last.

[sataraxias]

the song jet black heart (arrows to athens) works well to read this to i think

──( NYX )──
In chaos left behind came a fiery promise: the threat of violent peace from a very feisty blond. In another life, perhaps they’d have the empathy to care about the mess they’d made and the consequences sure to follow. But this wasn’t another world, and remorse was a pastime they’d stopped partaking in, for the most part. Their attention was instead diverted to different, more important goals.

Despite their urgency, Nyx did pause. Just out the doorway to look back to find Thalia, fingers fiddling in a mocking motion of goodbye that maybe also doubled as a promise to hold her to her word. A silent projected thought in a single gesture he didn’t even know (nor particularly care) if she’d seen: You somehow make it outta here and track me down, Thalia Belrose, you best come with a furious rage--because I got no use for nothing else.

The creak of derelict steps. They whirled and prevented the Raven getting the jump on them. Damn carrion feeders, but they’d have been surprised if Alan’s birds hadn’t shown up. They were so done with having weapons to their throat or their head. It got old quick. And thus, as he struggled with a stranger, they skipped the stairs as their exit route, instead vaulting the both of them back over the rickety railing. They hit the ground with a grunt of pain and forced themselves into action.

The now still form in front of them in its spreading crimson pool wasn’t ancient enough for robbery to be considered archaeology, but Nyx stole from him anyway. Not like he was using his weapons anymore, anyway. They also picked up Harlow’s hat again. Damn scuffle had knocked it off.

They had to leave. Preferably quickly, and preferably alive, because ravens travelled in flocks and in the book of Alan Graves’ good graces, their page had been torn out, spat on and burnt. Nyx was a competent fighter, but even he had limits - and those limits approached with every new bruise and scrape they gave themselves. Damn creeper, nomming into them.

As their opportunities so often did, their means of exit presented itself motivated by spite: the key in the ignition of Harlow’s bike.

The smoke of adrenaline and the heat of fire pumped through their veins, and with every breath Nyx took in they cursed Harlow’s betrayal. The Spider Queen had sat tall in a web built high, and their unwavering loyalty had helped foster that sense of security. But the thing about webs was that their silver threads were fickle, fragile things, and they knew every single thread in hers.

Every single fragile thread.

And the best thing about it? Word about his fall from grace couldn't spread while she was occupied in battle. They sped a path towards their former base, the foundations of a plan already formed.

──( AMALIA )──
Captain by her side and Spartan joining in to maintain her six just a few minutes later, the youngest Belrose forged a fight towards her sister at her signal. A whirlwind spirit in the middle of chaos, a hurricane bringing flood. Not just of destruction, but of struggling morals. How could she walk that line of right and wrong when the world was so cruel? Every slash of her blade… perhaps it damned her, perhaps it corrupted her beyond repair, but that moving form of her sister she struggled towards justified everything. While the walls around them quaked, while spiders poured from dark crevices and while her sister still lived, she’d take that darkness into her soul and seek redemption another day.

If they had one advantage in this fight, just a single one, it was that she and her sister knew the warehouse. This old structure had become the closest thing to home that the apocalypse could ever let them have, and she’d learnt the pathways through its depths like the lines on the palm of her hand. This old hole was no nostalgic farmhouse with the souvenirs of family hung securely on the walls and the mouth-watering smell of dinner cooking on the stove, but it’d been something to them. A place of shelter, a place of pain. Amalia almost hated that she’d miss it.

Crouched behind some old wine crates with her sister and their dogs, she caught her breath. And as she forced air into her lungs, she watched Kaisie Graves fall. Almost cried out at it too, if not for the fact their location was so unsecure. Because it was her fault, because she’d pleaded so long to convince Kay to follow her and led her into this whole mess.
But still - redemption was a luxury for another day. With guilt bubbling up, Ames nodded her head towards the back exit of the warehouse and led the way out.

──( HARLOW)──
Knife so firm in her hands. Her hair wild, a lion’s mane. Her teeth bared in a victorious, if maniac, snarl. And the terrified, pale face beneath her, the shaking form of a light she was so prepared to choke out. And then, rushed footsteps back towards her, and her wild face lifted to find them.

‘Hell, Harly, what are you doing?’ that familiar, dry voice that she appreciated and detested so much, slightly strained by their situation. ‘Waiting for her daddy to come and invite you to dinner? Move!’

And they pulled her back from that dangerous ledge, reminded her to inhale the dusty, awful air of the catacomb path and clear the red vision from her gaze. Let the water clear and her shark’s appetite retreat. She could see their precious treasure in his shirt pocket, those vials they’d fought so hard to get.

And Nyx at that point had changed from the man they’d met at the start of it all (and truth be told, so had she), but their apathy hadn’t prevented them from coming back to find her and pull her out. Corey had run, as he should’ve, but Nyx? They’d came back to make sure she came out too.

She left the girl behind, spluttering and whimpering, but she’d left Kaisie Graves alive enough to recover, and they’d won. They’d gotten the antidotes, and they’d won the battles they’d needed that day, and so, Kaisie Graves had lived.

It seemed lately Harlow had only copped a string of losses. Corey was the catalyst that had started a landslide, and she wasn’t happy. Those antidotes they’d fought so hard to get back then, captive in the possession of two sisters who deserved hell incarnate. Nyx, lost to her by their arrogance and her folly. She could feel the silence hanging around her without their irritating presence, and it didn’t take super powers to notice how her spiders walked on eggshells in her presence now that there was no sassy insolent Nyx to pull her back from her more primal, murderous instincts.

But it didn’t matter. She was in control. Her knife rested beneath the girl’s chin, pulling it up so that those green eyes had to align with her own. Her face was bloody, her hair unruly, her hat missing. Her people dead. So many casualties. A bloodbath of collosal scale.

Because if there was one victory among her losses -- it was that she had Kaisie Graves and Alan didn’t. Her lips slashed into a smile and she turned away. She found one of her guards as he stood by the door almost anxiously.

“I want Alexander found and brought before me,” she said sweetly. “[I want the weapons they had the audacity to steal from us back. And I want the Belroses found and dead. Pass the message along. And? Andrew, I want you to personally deliver a message to Alan Graves.”

She turned and slashed off a lock of Kay’s hair.