( ⚶ . the possibilities

[hell_hound]

name. Bekka Chambers
species. human
gender & orientation. female; bisexual
age in years. 18

hair. long, chocolate brown
eyes. blue
markings & scars. several scars that mar her body from her time on The Island.
scent. dark cherry - from her shampoo

[hell_hound]

Bekka had undergone significant change in the year since she saw her nemesis last. Gone was the child that had crash-landed on that dreadful island and in her place was a young woman who had tasted blood and knocked on death’s door to deliver souls personally. Well, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but Bekka Chambers had gone through things no teenager - no person - should ever have to endure. A rigged plane crash, a deserted island, a group of kids all fighting to the death for survival and the right to go home to their families; all of that and more had transpired to create the Bekka that now walked toward the empty parking garage near the edge of town that had once been promised to be transformed into a super shopping center for the residents of Lochspell. Unfortunately but unsurprisingly, it stood as a reminder that promises were broken all the time.

In the time between their encounters, Bekka had sliced off the majority of her hair. She now wore it buzzed on all sides but one and even the hair left on that side was no longer than her jawline. She’d abandoned her high-school-senior attire for open flannel shirts over tight-fitting tank tops, jeans and running shoes - perfect for fluidity in a fight and a quick getaway. Even her makeup, which she hadn’t bothered much with before - seemed sharper. Darker.

It wasn’t hard for Bekka to find Diana. The Lambo parked near the back was more than enough indication. No one else in Lochspell drove anything even remotely close to that. After a quick search of her surroundings, Bekka walked over to the passenger side, knocked on the window, and slid in once Diana had unlocked the door. At first she didn’t really want to look at her in fear that all those memories - all those emotions - she had tried hard to bury since getting back home would come surging back to the front of her mind, but if they wanted to get to the bottom of what was going on, then she would need to turn her head and look at the same pair of eyes that haunted her nightmares.

Just turn your head, Bekka, she told herself. That’s all you have to do.

Her breath left her in a rushed sigh. Hating herself and her life in general, Bekka twisted around so she could see Diana in all her glory.

Of course the witch looked perfect.

“What has your insane, psychopathic father done now?” she demanded, holding up the letter she had received in the mail just days prior.

[hell_hound]

Bekka opened her mouth to make a snarky remark, but decided against it. Now wasn’t the time for childish games no matter how much she wanted to sink to Diana’s level and beat her at it. She knew the dark-haired girl was right. The creator of Limitless - Diana’s very own father - was a cruel man. He would do exactly as he promised without hesitation. Her thoughts put the faces of her loved ones on a rotation, flipping through each of them and imagining them killed in all manner of horrible ways. Gunshot wounds, decapitation, or worse - alone on an island.

“I don’t care what you feel for Zane,” Bekka told her, “but I believe you. Trust me, I think I know what lengths your demented daddy will go to for his precious show.”

She snatched one of the tickets and flopped back against the seat to examine the paper. A part of her hoped that when she inspected it further she wouldn’t find her name on the slip, but there it was. Blocky black text on a crisp white background. Rebekka Chambers. Her hands shook, betraying the fear that was quickly growing in her stomach and threatening to make her vomit. Memories of her time on that blasted island came surging to the surface. The ghost of the gun in her hand cooled her fingers, though the gun itself was nowhere near.

“What now?” she asked, turning the full force of her sharpened gaze to Diana. “We don’t have a choice but to go. What else is there to talk about?”

[hell_hound]

Bekka hadn’t been anticipating riding to the remote airport in a lamborghini. She found herself grateful she had left her mother - and her formerly-absent FBI father - a note explaining things. Maybe they would know what to do and be able to put a stop to it all before it started. At least, that’s what the kid in her was trying to tell her. The darker, more cynical side of her that had emerged since coming home from the ordeal on the island informed her that help was probably never going to come for them and that she should resign herself to either dying in yet another plane crash or by the hands of the insane raven-haired beauty sitting to her right.

She chose an emergency exit seat on the opposite side of Diana’s aisle so she could have plenty of room to stretch and move if she desired or if necessary. It would be less likely for her to be pinned by a chair if she was here rather than anywhere else on the small, private plane.

As the plane took off, Bekka reclined in her seat.

She had no idea the chaos that awaited them, but she did know one thing. If it came down to it, she would kill anyone that stood between her and coming home.