ｒａｖｅｎｈｏｌｍ

ｆｒｅｅｄｏｍ  isn't something that's handed to you meg m. | ♀ | Former Combine Assassin CURRENT STATUS: hiding, holed up in RAVENHOLM Indie SUPERNATURAL, HALF-LIFE 2 AU. Roleplays with anyone. Crossover/Multifandom friendly. Main blog is ilaughedicriedipukedinmymouth.

[servedthewrongcause]

+heaven-clarence

[heaven-clarence]

         Boys dropping contact soon as the going got rough. Well if that wasn’t a familiar tune, Meg didn’t know what was. Soon as Crowley had nabbed her, had the boys given her a second thought? Even one? Nope. Sure, Cas had been under the influence of some angel but at least the Moose should have come. But no, he had been tramping around with some unicorn.

         Not that she could criticize him for that.

        She shook all thoughts of the boys and their stupid antic out of her head, focused more on the task at hand. No point in thinking about the Winchester’s idiocy when there was work to be done. She could give them a good solid punch later. For right now, she had zombies to take her pent up aggression out on.

        “Winchesters aren’t as loyal as some. Soon as you’re out of sight you’re out of mind. I’ve danced to that tune already. Telling the tale of it is just compelling. I’ll share it with you another time though. Something tells me our friends here won’t be as fond of hearing about the boys as you and I will.” She gestured with the angel blade towards the headcrabs.

        “Well, this looks like all sorts of fun.” She was bouncing a bit, the pre-fight adrenaline pumping her up. “And your bosses sound peachy in the extreme. If we have time we’ll take a side trip and teach them that we Meg’s aren’t to be messed with.” She cast a sidelong wink at her double, smiling on the outside but inwardly wondering.

        These bosses, who were they? It took a lot to control Meg, either of them. They did things out of loyalty, not out of subservience. What kind of bosses could take control of her mind? Oh, Meg dear had a lot of ‘splainin to do. Lots of campfire stories to tell. The two of them had some catching up to do. So, zombies, then girl talk. Didn’t sound like a bad night to her.

           Meg was impressed by the other’s skill. Sure she didn’t have her black soul, but she certainly had that demonic fire inside of her. It wasn’t every day you saw a human fight like that no matter what kind of mechanical bits she had floating around inside. ‘Impressive’ didn’t quite cover it. Astounding or incredibly sexy would be more accurate.The two, painted similarly in the blood of enemies slain couldn’t have looked more alike.

          There were some things that didn’t change from Meg to Meg.

          “Haven’t had this much fun in longer than you would believe.”

[servedthewrongcause]

     Meg could agree that it was rather nice to have someone fighting alongside her. Even if her current partner in crime was some bizarrely alternate version of herself, she was evidently apt, and a visibly formidable fighter. The last time she had fought with anyone was, well... since the Winchesters.

     Incidentally, that was also one of the last moments she spent with them before the Combine made a nasty comeback. They didn't take rebellions very lightly, especially when the rebels were once working for their side.

     That was all over and done with, though. The Winchester brothers, and Meg's former bosses were no longer part of the story -- not for the time being, at least. What mattered at the current moment was survival, namely slashing and shooting the way through a crowd of ravenous headcrab hosts.

     Kicking down a zombie that had approached, and nearly grasped her, Meg turned her head to face the duplicate, a smirk present on her face as she shot out the necrotic below her boot,

               "So glad to hear that you're enjoying yourself," the almost-human remarked, "There's nothing like a good killing-session to brighten the mood of everything."

     It satisfied her killer tendencies. All of that brainwashing and assassin training couldn't be put to waste, after all. Meg couldn't quite recall ever having sympathy for the zombies, even long before her road to what could be vaguely seen as 'redemption'.

     The evening's small crowd of Ravenholm inhabitants was decreasing fortunately quickly, The sooner they were disposed of, the sooner they could move along. Meg had to admit that she really looked forward to getting out of the terrible place. Trekking out of Ravenholm and into the surrounding world would prove difficult, but certainly worth it in the end,

               "'Tell you what," she added, aiming at another one of the necrotics as it unsteadily drew closer, "Once this little tussle with the neighbors is over, we'll get straight to story telling. If you're all ears, I'll give you the whole gist on why the planet's so lame and rotten. Does that sound like a plan?"

[servedthewrongcause]

+heaven-clarence

[heaven-clarence]

     “Celebrity? Aren’t you special?” Meg snickered at the use of the term even as she turned to face the approaching noises. It was often how she referred to herself as Crowley’s men tracked her down. They were alike in a lot of ways, the two of them.

     Amazing. That was one word for it. Amazing Meg had managed to survive her hundreds of years in Hell. Amazing that despite every moment of her torture by Alastair being ingrained into her mind, she was still mostly sane. Amazing that despite her fierce loyalties to Lucifer and his cause, she managed to team up with his brother after her god had vanished. Amazing that she had fallen in love with that brother of her god and had been willing to die for him.

     Amazing.

     The noises were getting closer, louder and rhythm-less. Meg twirled the angel blade around in her hand. The adrenaline rush that quickly proceeded a battle was rushing through her veins, setting her blood on fire. Her eyes flickered to black, an instinct that was hard to repress. It was natural to reveal their soul’s true state in anticipation of possible death. Often times it was even a warning to those stupid enough to oppose demonic forces.

     “So, the Winchesters?” She attempted to keep the whole moody light despite the sound of pounding limbs against a distant barricade. “You got those idiots here too? Not that I should criticize. I’m supposed to be allies with them. Died for them even. Too bad they’re not here. They’d adore slicing up some headcrabs as you call them.

     “Speaking of which you’ll have to tell me about these old bosses of yours later. After we get past these.” She gestured towards the stumbling bodies which had just entered their line of sight. “Aim for those, am I right?” It was sort of sickening to see the strange parasites stuck to the once human bodies. Reminded Meg a bit of the way she was a demonic parasite inside this meaty host in a way she didn’t like. “Let’s get this over with.” She growled, moving forward to the closest one.

    The angel blade, despite being a world removed from whatever power source gave it the ability to kill so well, began taking down the zombies well. It sliced straight through the disgusting pumpkin like critters, leaving her covered in their juices. She ignored the slime, moving on to take on the next ones, dropping them one at a time.

    “Having fun yet?” She called to her counterpart, who was out of eyesight at the moment. She flipped a zombie onto its back with relative ease before running the alien through. “I do love a good fight.”

[servedthewrongcause]

     With the approaching noises, Meg found her combat mode initiating; it was one of the silent features that distinguished her from complete humanity, the small implants stimulating her more aggressive physical impulses. Her pistol was once again drawn -- oh, for the sake of survival would she soon need a better weapon than this -- and held ready to fire.

     Even so, in spite of the automatic measures her body had taken for increased combat, she still kept a good hold on the social aspect of this encounter; after all, she had acquired quite an interesting new teammate.

        "Oh, they sure would. Those boys have a real habit of killing things. 'Guess I'd have to call them allies too, seeing as they've saved my ass a couple of times, and we're both going against the same thing -- mutually assured destruction, so to speak. Haven't heard from them in months, though; not even a single postcard sent toward this zombie-infested wonderland. Honestly, I'm just wounded by that."

      She gave an exaggerated pouting face before adding to her previous statement, "You lived to tell the tail of dying for them, though. That's got to be a good story."

     Even so, she couldn't help but wonder if the Winchesters and their friend had ruined the otherworldly Meg's life as well. Meg never really intended on rebelling against her military loyalty; it was all due to helping Castiel 'n friends that she'd gotten caught in the first place. Who would've known that the Combine responded so badly to disobeying regulations -- their torturous interrogations couldn't possibly be more damaging.

        "Oh, I can tell you a good, long story about my old bosses. Maybe, when I'm done, you'll have learned to hate 'em as much as I do."

     The zombies drew in as she spoke, and their arrival alerted the ex-assassin to attack. It was a small group of necrotics -- all standard behavior, standard headcrab hosts. It wouldn't be too much trouble to take down, with a little combined effort.

                   "Heads, that's right."

     It was the most sure-fire way to take them down. The former soldier fired at one of the beasts, bullets ripping clean through its head and the creature atop. She fought alongside the other, occasionally directing a curious little glance to the swordlike weapon the demon held. With little time passed, the streets of the ghost-town were painted by multitudes of blood,

        "Couldn't get more fun than this."

[servedthewrongcause]

Geographical Information: Ravenholm

   Located in the land mass that was once known as Russia, lies a small town. It's known as Ravenholm, lying just between the coastal region and City 17's canals.

  Ravenholm is infamously known as a place where no one dares to tread, due to its necrotic population. It was once a small mining town, refurbished by the resistance against the Combine. For years, the small town was bustling with free, lively human life that rebelled against Earth's extraterrestrial rulers.

  It was a wonderful little town, though it quickly became notorious for the Combine's discovery. The overwatch was quick to take action against the resistance to their tyranny, destroying the small town's inhabitants with Headcrab shelling. Many were killed in the incident itself, with remaining human survivors becoming hosts to the deployed Headcrabs. Those who did escape with their lives fled to remaining resistance bases, such as the connected Black Mesa East. This left Ravenholm a rather barren place, void of all life, save for the zombies, and those very few survivors who dared to remain.

Currently, Ravenholm is not monitored by Combine Overwatch, leaving it, ironically, one of the safer places on the map.

[servedthewrongcause]

+ transwarp--theorist

     Oh, this guy's clothing was definitely out of place. Couldn't have been a member of the resistance -- too clean looking. Combine affiliation was out of the question, noting their rather obvious uniforms. 

     The dude wasn't a zombie, either. That one didn't require any thinking about to notice.

     Still, an seemingly human individual was company, and that was just what Meg needed at a time like this.

          "Welcome to Ravenholm. Don't know why you'd come to such a terrible place, but I hope you know a thing or two about combat. It'll come in handy real soon."

[servedthewrongcause]

+ firstsonofgod

     One nice thing about Ravenholm was its low threat from the outside military world. One terrible thing about it was the increasingly high population of zombie-like alien hosts. Twas really a downfall, not to mention lonely.

     When the ex-assassin heard the soft rustling of footsteps behind her, she was quick to turn, facing the threat with pistol ready to fire --

          -- That was, until she realized that this one wasn't a necrotic. Meg slightly lowered her weapon, eying the unfamiliar man with caution,

     "...You're not a zombie. Alright, glad we've gotten that out of the way."

          "Hi."

[servedthewrongcause]

+traumatis

      Not many made the unfortunate mistake of stumbling into the abandoned old town of Ravenholm; all of its inhabitants had been long wiped off the map -- or, rather, mutated into things that couldn't vaguely be counted as citizens.

     Finding people in the town never failed to surprise the one vaguely human member of the community, with the previously mentioned factors included. Meg was suspicious, though relieved to see someone who wasn't totally zombified, and was quick to take a step closer to the woman, examining her appearance thoroughly before speaking,

        "Well, howdy. Didn't know anyone else was still alive in this hellhole -- how long have you been here?"

[servedthewrongcause]

+raisedtherighteousman

     The recognition of the stubbly face certainly got a reaction out of Meg; she hadn't been anticipating Castiel's arrival at all, especially given her current location. A ghost town infested with parasite-controlled zombies wasn't particularly a vacation spot -- if anything, it was one of the worst places to be, at any hours of the day.

              Yet, there he was: Castiel. Meg couldn't deny her intrigue.

        "Castiel," the former assassin spoke to him, pausing to glance around for immediate threats before continuing, "So good to see you. What's drawn you to Ravenholm?"

[servedthewrongcause]

+spookyscarydemon

     Meg was definitely surprised to see this familiar face -- Dean Winchester. As far as she knew him, he was a rebel against the Combine, a fighter for humanity. Him, along with his brother and another friend of his, had managed to get the ex-assassin in a ton of trouble, contributing to the status of being an ex-assassin. 

     While something did seem to be off about the eldest Winchester, strange attire included, there was no doubting Meg's interest in his appearance.

        "What made you decide to come to Ravenholm, Dean? 'Got a thing for rotting corpses?"

[servedthewrongcause]

+heaven-clarence

[heaven-clarence]

         ”It must be since all I can see of you looks like normal squishy human. No wonder those zombies want a piece of you, you’re practically delectable.” 

         So she was squishy looking on the outside but completely different on the inside. Just like good old demon Meg. This was no mere copy of Meg’s current meat suit, it was actually her, her demonic personality and all. Interesting. She was doing well in this world, better than Meg had been doing in her own. She wasn’t dead yet and technically the demon had died twice. And had opportunity to visit Hell and beyond.

         Not that this place seemed much better.

         ”Hell is one of the worst of places but there are plenty more. Hell just burns your soul black. Eventually it starts to show.” She allowed her eyes to flick to black for a moment before they regained their normal human guise. “You really want a show, you should visit Purgatory sometime.”

           This place almost seemed like some mirror of her recent escapade in the wild forest. Insane monsters coming to eat your brains and toss away the corpse. Lots of running, lots of fighting and not much else. Although here, she had an angel to watch over her. Or at least, someone who was an angel in another universe.

           ”You had me at zombies.” Meg admitted, grinning a bit. “So how did you end up in some back water old mining town fighting off zombies by yourself? Surely you didn’t start out this way. Your friends all get turned into headcrabs? Or you just trying to find a way back?”

          “Well let’s get him something to swoon over then. My life had been anything but a walk in the park from the moment I first saw the light of day. Been killed a few times, exorcised, tortured, run for years. Trust me, this’ll be nothing new.”

          Maybe she could handle it, but would her replica be able to? She didn’t have the demon’s strength. This world didn’t seem like a piece of cake and while Meg would probably survive, she couldn’t navigate it on her own. Like it or not, she needed her replica to get her back to her angel.

[servedthewrongcause]

         "Yeah, they all want a piece of this. I'm practically loved by the zombies here; might as well be a celebrity."

     Pssh. If only the damned things could recognize her (formerly) high military status. They'd respect her then, oh they would. It was a shame that they were completely mindless.

     Meg listened carefully to the other's description of Hell -- sounded like a terrible place. The former assassin had often heard chatter about it, though she never bothered looking into it. Didn't want to think about where she would go when death finally snuck up on her. The look in her own eyes quickly became one of fascination when the other's eyes changed drastically, setting into a darkened hue,

         "Consider me impressed. Demon-me's about the last person I'd expect to meet -- got to say, that's kind of amazing."

     Perhaps a human would become frightened at the idea of meeting a demon. Meg, on the other hand, was not a human, nor had she any fear. If anything, her instinctive curiosity of the outside world left her a bit amazed. Being controlled by a humanity-despising empire for twenty years had that effect on her.

        "Friends? Nah, the people were like this when I got here. I don't have much of any friends -- unless you count those idiot Winchester boys. I used to be part of a serious organization until I met them -- made the poor mistake of helping 'em out of a sticky situation and got exiled -- Ravenholm's about the farthest I could get from my old bosses."

        "-- Guess that means we'll be getting closer to them once we start this unexpected journey. Castiel and his pals are far outside of Ravenholm, and far closer to danger. It'll be worth the trip, granted we survive --"

     Her speech was cut off by a low, raspy whimpering in the near distance. And there it was. How could she forget? Meg was quick to prepare her gun,

        " -- Speaking of danger, it sounds like we've got company. If you've got any weapons on you, I suggest aiming for the pumpkin-sized parasites on their heads."

[fuzzymellow]

I couldn’t find any good sketches in my drawing book, but I did find this piece in one of my old external hard drives! I made this the very first time I played through Half-Life 2, I think. It’s not the best, but I still like it to an extent. It’s about a year old, I think. ヽ(；▽；)ノ

[weaknature]

Meg in 6.10 “Caged Heart.”

[servedthewrongcause]

+heaven-clarence

[heaven-clarence]

         ”Mechanical pieces? These zombies of yours must be pretty aggressive. Never met a Croat that could take me before. Not that they’re the same thing. Yours might be a little different.”

        So this was some sort of Hunger Games version of her? Future-y and fighting for some hopeless cause against a greater power? Well, it did sound like fun. And if there was one thing Meg knew how to do in this ‘verse or any other, it was how to fight for her cause.

        “That makes two fighters. Stole the name Meg Masters from an old meat suit. Azazel’s daughter, proud servant of my god Lucifer and fearsome demon. What’d’ya mean by sentient member?”

        Aliens? Bit out of Meg’s depth. She already had to deal with one crap-tastic world and now she had been hurtled into another? Fan-freaking-tastic. She would skin that fluffy winged Clarence the next time she saw him. In the meantime, it seemed she and her ‘ganger’ would be fighting off buckets of her ‘headcrabs’. Fun.

        “You got aliens and zombies here? Forgive me if I jump ship at the next port. How’d they get that way anyways? You guys gone and broken their heads?”

        So her feather brained unicorn had made it over. Or he had a ganger of his own. But he was here. If her Clarence would be able to fix onto anyone if this ‘verse, it would be his alternate self. Meg made a mental note to get to him as soon as possible.

          “Fits my description. He around? Need to talk to him about a bit of a personal matter. You wouldn’t mind seeing him again, would ya?”

         How did this Meg feel about her Clarence? It was certainly something worthy of investigation.

[servedthewrongcause]

      "You heard right -- Mechanical parts. Lots of 'em, though they're a bit too tiny to see."

     Mostly microchip implants; vision enhancements, and combat-related aides. All requirements of being an Assassin for the Combine; the ones who'd trained her, and the ones she was now hellbent on getting rid of. 

     She was heavily amused by the other woman's introduction of herself. Seemed to be some sort of alternate version of her, which was weird, though not entirely unheard of. Standing out the most was the fact that she presented herself as a demon.

        "Well, that's uncanny. Never thought I'd be meeting me from Hell."

     She'd read about the underworld from the books she had stolen; both worship and any sort of literature was outlawed by the Combine, though it never ended her curiosity. Never thought demons would be real, though.

      "Aliens, zombies, and a few other creepy little things. How they got to Earth is a hell of a long story -- how they're in Ravenholm alone is a shorter one; old mining town got hit with a headcrab infestation, most people fell victim to that. Headcrabs turn people into mindless, living corpses. Bundles of fun."

     Meg snickered at the idea of visiting Castiel with this replica of hers, "He'd probably freak out if he saw the both of us, or fall in love -- maybe a little of both."

     The joking remark was followed up by a more serious one, "Yeah, I could take you to him. The real question is if you're willing to take the long journey to where he is. Ain't a walk in the park, I'll tell you that right now."

[servedthewrongcause]

+ante--insaniam

                                                                "Hmm..."

     Meg hummed softly as she observed the stranger; a young lady, that was for sure -- not a resident of Ravenholm, and a bit too... not injured to fit in with the locale. Not a zombie, either, which was always a positive aspect, but... unusual. The ex-gunwoman didn't hesitate to step closer to her, instantly pointing out the most prominent noticed trait,

 "Your clothes are too clean to be from here. What brings you to this hellhole of a place?"

[servedthewrongcause]

+spent-it-on-ammo

     This approaching fellow -- he had a look to him; a look in his eye that said he'd been through some shit.      Not that Meg had any evidence to support this; she no longer had access to the Combine's database of civilians, and relied solely on intuition.

        She always was a bit curious about those who passed through Ravenholm.

     The former assassin let out a chuckle as she observed the new encounter, greeting him in a manner a bit too casual to fit the hostile surroundings,

        "Oh, man, you must've took a seriously wrong turn to end up in Ravenholm."

[servedthewrongcause]

+corpusluciferum

[bloodxbound-archive-deactivated]

                          “Ravenholm?—-“  The younger Winchester remained in his stance.

Where the hell am I? He questioned himself quietly, simultaeniously looking Meg over. No major damage. The usual cuts and scrapes.

                                “—-You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He sighed, dropping his head down. “Must’ve gotten zapped here,” Sam paused, as if to confirm what he had just said was true. “Which means you aren’t really Meg. Not my Meg anyway.”

[servedthewrongcause]

   Meg perked an eyebrow at the tall one's remark. Distressed, she observed, as well as visibly disgruntled. His statement could have indicated that he wasn't... from the area, so to speak.

       "Last time I checked, Meg was my birthname. Do what you want with that information, handsome."          An empty, sarcastic flirtation was followed by taking a few steps closer,                      "'Suppose by that logic, you're not my Sam, either."

             Her statement was cut off by a shrill, inhuman wail sounded afar.                      Oh, she would never get a break from them, would she?

   " -- Well, wherever you're from, I hope you've at least got a few combat skills. The... 'residents' in this town aren't particularly friendly."

[adamscottmilligan]

                “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and you know what this place reminds me of?” He was cut off by the approaching zombie sounding thing and he raised his gun, waiting for it to come around the corner. When he caught sight of the creature, he kept his hands steady, trying to get in the head space as one of his favorite characters and then pulled the trigger, sending a bullet straight through the zombie’s brain. “—And that headcrab definitely proved what I thought.” But was it possible? Then again, angels and demons were real, why couldn’t this be?                                                                     “Call me crazy, but—”                                            He was cut off by the sounds of a few more zombies, obviously attracted by the sound of a gunshot. So maybe that wasn’t the best idea— but he’d just found out that the world’s gone to shit, or at least this one has and he’s got not inkling of how to get home again. You gotta give the guy a break.                 “I’m not sure if we can take them with just us.”

[servedthewrongcause]

     Meg was a bit curious about what Adam had to say -- Ravenholm reminded him of something? Perhaps he'd been there before, or ...      That thought was interrupted by the sound of a gunshot, the bullet flying straight through the headcrab and its poor host. The creature fell to the ground, cries of other zombies audible nearby.

        Meg was quick to check her own weapon, making sure it had sufficient ammunition. Unfortunately, it was a little bit less than sufficient, seeing as she was still in need of making a better supply run. That could wait, though; the current situation was a bit too dire to scour for spare bullets.

   She could see them drawing closer -- the fiendish creatures that could no longer be classified human, their heads covered by the large parasites -- a group of three or four.    The ex-assassin aimed her pistol, pulling the trigger in the zombies' direction and managing to take out one of them.

                "Nah, I think we can handle this, for sure."

   As Meg spoke, the small group did seem to grow in size, a few more necrotics joining in.

 " -- On second thought, maybe not. How's the idea of running sound to you?"

[servedthewrongcause]

+clownsandrabbitfood

  The muffled yelps of a zombie could be heard -- a once-human mutation, life controlled by the painfully obvious parasitic -- followed by a gunshot. The bullet ripped clean through both the victim's head and the crablike saboteur atop it. The meaty creature fell to the ground with a thud as Meg pulled back her gun, wiping away the crimson droplets.

                       Ah, what a gruesome sight. Just another day in the life.

   When she turned from the fresh corpse, she wasn't expecting to see any familiar faces. Yet, there one was -- the face happened to belong to a certain mister Winchester, too. 

            Meg fully turned to face him, her expression becoming a bit snarky,

               "Howdy, Sam. Decided to join in on the zombie party, did you?"