#delilah 01

[liamlockhart]

Date: November 7th 2020 Time: 4:45 pm Location: August’s home

The housing options in this town aren’t exactly ideal. Living with the Bissets is something he doesn’t intend to do again and August threatened him with loitering charges if he just tried to hunker down by the river. A shame, really. That’d been his most solid plan. Not like he needs to sleep. Unfortunately, the inn hadn’t crossed his mind until he’d begrudgingly agreed to take up residence with his old friend and, apparently, someone else. Funny how these sort of things aren’t discussed. She hadn’t been brought up whatsoever, this woman who now brandishes some sort of weapon -- wait. “A... cactus.” Liam raises a brow, perhaps not as taken aback as he should be. Same shit, different day, isn't it? Increasingly bizarre with each hour spent in this town, though. Why stay? A valid question, maybe, but also one he doesn’t have time for right now what with the needles that still reside inches from his face. Not as if he wouldn't heal with haste, but really, he’d like to avoid that unpleasant sensation entirely. “That’s, uh, that’s a new one, I’ll admit.” Liam tries to bend to get a better view of his wannabe assailant, but her weapon only moves with him. Raising his palms in surrender, he nods. “Alright then. Imagine this means August didn’t inform you about his offer to let me room here. I’m about as pleased as you seem to be, I assure you. Name’s Liam.” A hand reaches out in a gesture to shake. Maybe politeness will keep him from being skewered. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t intend to stick around for long.” 

@delilahsarkissian​

[sine-nomine-ferrum-blog]

The Whaler is not having a good day.

The elevator ride to the ‘lobby’ of their strange new home had been quicker than they’d expected, but the sting of betrayal and regret gnaws at them like a swarm of plague rats, and the loss of their powers adds insult to fatal injury. Before, they could’ve gone from the deepest floor of this place to one of those strange moons they can see in the distance. Now? Elevators. Even worse, walking out in the open. 

Their surroundings are broad and flat. Most of the buildings are too small or low to the ground to provide cover, and they’re so spread out it’s nearly impossible to move from one to the other without being spotted. Not without a transversal, which they don’t have, because Daud...

They grit their teeth. In any case, the environment here doesn’t suit them, and the talking birds aren’t helping their culture shock. One of the garish, extravagant creatures had flagged them down earlier from what looked like a help stand and twittered on about this and that for what had felt like ages. And despite all its talking, the only thing the Whaler managed to get out of it was that one, there are other people trapped in this ‘Aldebaran ark;’ and two, they would not be getting their sword back. That was about all the Whaler could take before they’d slammed their fists into the wooden stand and stormed off. 

They regret it now. Keeping cool under pressure is an essential trait for an assassin, even one without a blade. Or purpose. 

Their chest aches.

It’s then, while focusing very hard on ignoring the unspeakable chasm opening up in the pit of their stomach, that they collide with something. Someone. A person, even; not one of the awful eye-burning birds dotting the place.

“My apologies.” they say, one hand raised and hovering over the other’s elbow. “I was... distracted. Forgive me.”

[nineteenlines-blog]

@phthalovoid

It's a new day for Villanelle. There are still few answers for her about where she is, and why, but scrolling through the holophone has helped her get her bearings. It's still disturbing that she was apparently kidnapped. At the same time, the beauty of her surroundings and the luxury of her new living space make it feel almost like a vacation. Not that she's letting her guard down.

The bath she had that morning was nothing short of luxurious. She's no longer bloody, and she's managed to pull a nice outfit together from the changes of clothes left for her in her room. It took some time for her to rearrange the separate pieces into something that matched better – whoever put the clothes out for her knew her style pretty well, but wasn't the best at coordinating looks. Luckily, she knows what she's doing.

It was worth the extra time in dressing, she thinks, as she wanders through the lush forest surrounding her building. She knows she looks good, and it's a pleasant day, although the sunlight feels a little disorienting in a way that can only be described as heavy. The way that the architecture is built almost seamlessly into the forest itself is pretty breathtaking.

Occasionally she passes other people, and does little more than smile at them. At one point she passes what appears to be a large bear, who greets her. She raises her eyebrows and turns around to stare at this strange creature as it leaves, but eventually shrugs it off and keeps walking.

Eventually she stops for a moment to observe an impossibly large flower. The thick feeling of the air and light around her is almost uncomfortable now, so she removes the sweater she was wearing and ties it around her waist. The blouse underneath leaves her arms bare, and instantly she feels cooler. Somewhere in the distance, a large animal screams.

Villanelle screams back, then breaks out laughing.