hatthevar | blood rains

[groundrules]

Drawn to undead creator Matthias, the party heads into Hatthevar — former wasteland of myth and superstitions, now city of ghosts.

The first log of Hatthevar spans until 31 January.

A small part of the event is open to players both in and out of the game, who can bring dead characters in the bazaar!

HATTHEVAR

---

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The party enters blood-rained Hatthevar during a daily one-hour truce between the citadel and the undead forces that assail it. At the gates is undead Lord Rathakku of the Brotherhood, keen to usurp his distracted maker Matthias; in the skies dart the forces of dead wind lord Anurr, who has no love for the Brotherhood.

Hatthevar’s ghostly champions — including enormous ghosts that consume men and floating spirits that strangle with chains — defend the grounds. Matthias neglects the war, persistently summoning spirits from various worlds and points in time to revive them.

KNOCK, KNOCK

Wispy, shadowy silhouettes closely watch the lone gate of Hatthevar. The party infiltrates at sunrise.

Characters who have died, practise necromancy or are death-touched enter freely. The living must consume Karsa’s foul potions that absorb their shadows and partly mute their powers to pass for dead. Holders of Matthias’ severed limbs or organs, or of dark mirror shards or dark water, are closely watched by the dead and perhaps pursued.

Everyone must create new names and stories covering their identity and circumstances of death. Crafty ghost sellers will try to learn your true name to capture you in slavery.

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Spend a few days acquainting Hatthevar, its constant rains, vicious gambling dens, bazaars, oracle halls, wish shops and nests of memory thieves.

Show kindness to the newly revived spirits who struggle to remember themselves and roam in the citadel’s bazaars of curiosities.

Optionally, some characters are struck by misfortune. Capture a crafty, palm-sized spirit rabbit to improve your luck… or stumble upon a larger, dark hopper to ruin it.

Most sleeping quarters are available at downtrodden inns or in lavish gambling dens, for exorbitant prices. You can’t shake the feeling of someone watching through holes in your walls.

MATTHIAS

Three days after arriving, the party receives a note from Matthias that reveals the origins of his pact with the dark water to propagate the dead in Akhuras. Matthias says he has been working to bring the spirit of his dead daughter Cosette through the beacon for revival. She materializes briefly in Hatthevar but disappears before he can find her. Retrieve Cosette, and he will surrender the party his power over the undead.

Full note

” Well, hello! Is it nippy beyond the walls? Not cold here, just… the rain. Tried wishing it away, but… waste of money, those wish shops. Not like, what is it you call it? The dark water? It’s ancient. Back in Ellethia, we thought it came from the sea. All began with a mirror shard. That, and constant pressure to race against decades of Taravast research into curing death. We got there first! That’s… my claim to fame: I wished death gone. It was work. Work ate me. Then, the dead woke up, killed everyone, and there wasn’t much of a profession left. Or of Ellethia. The dark water wants flesh, so… I’ve made it death lords and armies, and I’ve left parts of me to anchor it. In return… it gives me revival. But, look. I had a… daughter. Cosette? Blonde and eyes green and blue and like her mother’s, and only five summers old, but she thought she was so clever, kept telling her doll so. That’s all you’re left with. Memories. She died, of course. I’ve been working to resurrect her, and her spirit shows up every few days in Hatthevar. She disappears before I can find her. I’m not… good at bargaining. I’m a magical engineer, really. Tinkerer! But my time’s running short, isn’t it? Just look outside. And all I want is Cosette. You want the beacons? Have them. You can have my power whole. I’ll give it. Some of you will need to help hold the walls up, and others might want to look into the funny business in the lagoon, if it’s linked at all to Cosette, though I doubt it. But, truly. Bring me Cosette, and the deed’s done. You can have everything.”

The Merchant distrusts Matthias’ proposal, but sees potential leverage and urges the party to investigate the girl and the lagoon. From here onward, everyone heads to their assignment:

COMBAT

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Assigned: Bucky Barnes, Carol Danvers, Deimos, Emilia, Jiang Cheng, Luffy, Natasha Romanoff, Nynaeve, Stephen Strange, Wrath, Wrathion, Zoro

The first line of defence against the swarming undead, you must hold off swathes of enemies across three territories:

THE WALLS

Despairingly tall and uncomfortably narrow, overseen by Matthias’ ghostly cannibal titans, who neglect to discern between friend or foe in their broad, relentless strikes. Blood rains pour down thick and nearly blinding. From the skies, you face the frost-breathing 10-15 meter-tall wyrms of undead blizzard lord Anurr, unaffiliated with the Brotherhood. Stick together: when alone, Anurr’s winds speak to you of your deepest doubts and fears, compelling you to surrender — or to let go of restraint, briefly berserk, and attack your own.

■ Serthica survivors may call their dragons to assist. Through Jon Snow, the party can also summon the giant, but slow and poor-sighted frost dragon Irenia to help on three occasions.

THE COLD PLAINS

Just outside of Hatthevar sprawls a desert-like cold plateau, where treacherous dunes shift to swallow you whole and the bestial forces of the Brotherhood’s most capable undead general, Rathakku, hide in wait. Hard-shelled, slippery and sleek his creatures lie buried and thrust up their arm-rows of hundreds of blades that cut into the legs of passers-by, drawing them into sand.

THE UNDERPASS

A series of subterranean tunnels connects Hatthevar with the cold sand outposts. Scour the myriad of dusty, tunnels and purge it of large scorpion-human hybrids that carry multiple weapons and whose sting leave men hallucinating. Oversized serpents abound, their venom prone to paralyzing their prey. You can make or procure antidote potions from Hathevar. Matthias’ ghostly titans are closing off all tunnel entrances to Hatthevar — don’t end up sealed in on the wrong side.

! Collectively, the party must kill at least one frost wyrm, one scorpion/serpent and one sand lurker to keep all three levels safe. Turn in your threads before 28 January… or let the citadel suffer in part II.

EXECUTION

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Assigned: Five, Lockwood, Mo Ran, Vanessa, Yelena, Wen Kexing, Zhou Zishu

Your objective is to locate Matthias and secure the beacons that are currently in heavy use. Securing one or more beacons will help you get home.

■ Your best bet for intelligence are the treacherous networks of underground memory thieves and slavers, who attempt to steal your freedom or your recollections.

■ Your next option is the gang of Erkul, who ruled over local oracles and Hatthevar whole before Matthias’ arrival. Coarse, slippery but cunning, Erkul sullenly nurses his weight in wine at the gilded Sanctuary, Hatthevar’s foremost gambling den. Street sources say the establishment’s passcode each day this month is a fruit name. Erkul’s crew sell highly potent opiates.

■ Ransack some Whispering houses for information, equipment, poison or arsenal. Small, dusty, cluttered and often creaking, Whispering houses hold a wealth of dangerous artefacts, from haunting poltergeists you might accidentally release by reading out their names from tomes to flying rope that throttles you. Large dread hounds instil blood-curdling fear in anyone who looks into their eyes.

■ The five beacons of Hatthevar are only briefly active each day as Matthias makes his summons. They are guarded by swarms of colossal leonine-shadow creatures that only attack if they feel any fear in your soul (of it, or anything else), pouncing to claw and shred you apart. To claim a beacon, Karsa may provide a cold, coal-like token that must be placed in the middle of the transport dais, within inevitable sight of the shadow lions. You must wait 15 minutes in place for the token to take root. Report your conquest before 28 January!

■ Every six hours, Matthias sends ravens to check on the shadow-lions. You must either trick them, leave the lions alive or capture the ravens.

CARE

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Assigned: Allison, Eda, Hermione, Kamala, Lan Sizhui, Sanji, Winnie

Carer’s have the lion’s share of all duties — and the party’s few lingering resources. You must look after the group and the ghosts of Hatthevar: meandering, disoriented and fragile, the spirits who were freshly wrenched from death’s snare become easy prey for the Undead Brotherhood, the elements and the ghost slavers. Rescuing or attending vulnerable spirits can gain you allies.

■ comfort ghosts who recover from revival or struggle with their memories. Many are stranded in the Whispering houses or chained into servitude in the gambling dens.

■ rescue spirits from the immense slaver clan of Ras’Kalur, which tricks newly summoned, dazed spirits in the bazaars to sign away their freedom, promising someone to look after them. Ras’Kalur’s people often raid streets and shelters, forcibly dragging spirits back into their camps at the outskirts of Hatthevar.

■ barter to rent or buy abandoned taverns to give the party a resting space during their stay in Hatthevar. You may need to pay locals in favours, from helping them carry out petty acts of revenge to making up with a grudge-bearing wife or paying penance to their ancestors.

■ heal, cook and provide for combatants on the walls, taking care not to fall in the crossfire or frost wyrms or of allied but negligent 12-feet ghostly titans.

■ as the least suspicious party members, negotiate for information or supplies on behalf of the group: make friends with gambling den owners and the two-bit shady crooks who know their daily passcodes to enter, or with the regulars of the Whispering houses.

INVESTIGATION

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Assigned: Ben Hargreeves, Benedict, Caitlyn, Cal Kestis, Jon Snow, Merrin, Nami, Rin, River Song, Wei Wuxian, Wen Qing

■ You know from Matthias that, as a result of his beacon summons, the spirit of his daughter Cosette appears every fifth day in Hatthevar for a few hours at midday. Despite this, a young girl matching Matthias’ description (5-6 years of age, green-blue eyes, blonde, prone to laughter) is never seen. Matthias alerts you whenever Cosette appears.

■ Day of first appearance: Matthias feels her presence in the bazaar, where the day’s main attraction is a puppet show that draws a heavy crowd. At midday, a chime sounds, and the puppet show performs the sad story of a daughter quarrelling with her father over his absences. The daughter-puppet flees into the woods, while the puppet-father refuses to reconcile and follow her. The girl is killed by animals, and the puppet-father grieves, heartbroken. All the women or girls in the crowd, including you, find they burst into tears.

■ Day of the second appearance: Matthias senses Cosette is in the alley of Whispering Houses. You notice the typical bustle of the alley and shady movements, as discreet, embarrassed, or desperate patrons scuttle. You see no small girls but hear of three trades that took place at the Whispering Houses, carried out by different women: one bought a memory, one sold one, one had a memory replaced. Pay for a memory trade to learn more.

■ Day of the third appearance: Matthias feels Cosette near the Oracle Hall. The hour passes by the time you climb the stairs and are received. The Oracle confirms only one person has visited — a blonde woman — and says to “tell your master that an hourglass keeps track of new time, but can’t give the old one back.”

You get three clue questions/character and should communicate with fellow investigators. Please share key findings by network before 25 January!

EXPLORATION

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Assigned: America Chavez, Buggy, Connor, Elayne Trakand, Lan Wangji, Licyn, Red, Wen Ning

The river Liu neatly divides Hatthevar, its clean waters progressively darkening towards the edges of the citadel, where they pour into a vast, serene and heavily misted lagoon. Veterans sense an eerie chill from the familiar dark waters that so often accompany the undead.

Like Matthias, Karsa says a strange power sleeps at the heart of the lagoon.

■ travel by raft with a companion through the lethargy-inducing fog, as tar-like people peer up from the waters or swim below, never quite attacking you unless you fall into water. They (and the currents) try to upturn your boat.

■ Scattered lit candles drift on water as you advance. Pick one up, and you find one of the floating creatures of Hatthevar has joined your raft, carrying a rope-chain. It says it and its kind are former oracles and truth-speakers of the citadel — and urges you to speak, pledging to kill the first person who lies before you leave water.

■ Farther out, you discover four half-sunken ships that have crashed into each other over time, their decks now forming a rocky square-like structure. You can carefully navigate your raft to reach this construct, or make your way by hopping onto floating deck parts and the debris of other rafts.

■ Once aboard the square structure, you find all the decks are heavily rotten, creaking and prone to collapse. You hear a maddening, shrill scream that steals control of your now convulsing body, until you find yourself driven closer and closer to the end of a plank or a deck hole against your wishes — unless you are physically detained until the shrieking ends.Sharp-toothed mermaids swim below.

■ Reach and explore the curious ships’ graveyard, to peer into the black well in the middle of the square infrastructure.

QUESTIONS

NPC INBOX

Comments

WILDCARDS CAN GO HERE

[reparo]

[Life's a card game, gimme a prompt.]

rabbit!!!

[downswing]

( A matter of hunt and spoils and no malice, rabbits scattered each way, darting. Down streets, between their feet amid crowds, bravely gallivanting down the winding paths towards myriads of Whispering Houses. Small and savage and crafty, and all but blitzing like lightning between Lan Wangji's legs, until one catches in the folds of his silks, plump and nosing and soft, when he crouches down to rescue it between two gentle cupped hands.

He brings it up, dark beady eyes baring into his own, the rabbit nosing — shifting its whiskers each way — then finally bopping Lan Wangji's own nose and sneezing sympathetically. Lan Wangji's heart melts, possibly audibly. There is a molten rumble that exits his lungs, passably mistaken for laughter.

Hermione, behind him, he understands, wishes to meet such a rabbit for luck. Lan Wangji joined the chase for — ...academic and intellectual reasons. He kisses the rabbit's head, soundly.

Then, finally, he holds out Hermione's way, its feet and belly still wrapped in Lan Wangji's cupped hand. )

...slowly. ( He is not surrendering this rabbit unless the appropriate conditions are met and Lan Wangji is satisfied of Hermione's hospitality. ) Let him scent your hands first.

[reparo]

[It's dire when Hermione Granger attends to superstition. Her spells have been failing her, her enunciation coming out abysmally bad, and she swears it's like she's had several black cats cross in front of her or something.

She didn't mean to enlist Lan Wangji into fixing this curse, but maybe she remembered in passing that the man was fond of rabbits and figured, well, maybe he can help her catch one.

She would absolutely not want to resort to magic and accidentally summon just the skeleton, you know.

What she doesn't expect is exactly how much Wangji likes rabbits. She's standing there a bit dumbfounded, because - that was a laugh? A chuckle? Emotion?

It's still with some dumbfoundedness that she walks closer and holds her hand out, letting the rabbit sniff her fingers.]

Now that's just adorable.

[downswing]

It is courtesy. ( He corrects, because far from him to strip away the dignity of the rabbit that noses and peers, fractionally curious over Hermione's natural scent and infinitely more invested in the possibility that she might be carrying treats —

Before it pulls back, wrinkling its nose and clearly denying her the joys of its splendour, or at the very least an immediate opportunity to cuddle and bask in the rabbit's brilliance.

It must be a wretched thing, to be so transparently rejected by a bunny friend. Lan Wangji cannot possibly sympathise. )

You exude tension. ( Somehow. The rabbit tenses. ) Be at ease.

( It is a well-known fact that individuals told to not stress out will immediately shed all their stress. )

[reparo]

I exude tension?! [She asks, tensely, of the man standing in front of her. The bunny actually shivers a little, and Hermione bites back a curse, frowning down at the creature for moment before exhaling.

Deflating.] Why is it always the dangerous ones that like me? Why can't I be favoured by rabbits for a change?

[downswing]

Because — ( The most patient of all teachers, loosing his hold to form a wider circle in which the rabbit might retreat as it pulls back. ) — you exude tension.

( Has he not said so before? Does no one listen? No matter. Softer, tenderer, again: )

Think of previous, beautiful things. Of tranquility. Family.

[reparo]

[She draws in a long breath, and deliberately exhales slowly. Superstition or not, Hermione needs this curse to bugger off.

If she untenses enough for the rabbit to accept a cuddle, maybe - well, if it doesn't work, she'll have cuddled a rabbit.

Maybe she should call it a bunny. A cute, adorable bunny.

Her shoulders drop. If tension were a balloon, Hermione would be deflating it.]

[downswing]

( ...there. Better. Much better. Soft and pliant and silent, enough so that the rabbit dares to squirm up through the tunnel of Lan Wangji's hands and nose at the horizon.

At Hermione, waiting.

Lan Wangji, hereby the patron deity of bunnies old and new and shy, nods towards her hand for her to extend it. )

Only one finger. ( Do not presume against the god. )

[reparo]

[A lesser human would give the bunny the middle finger, but Hermione is superior. Relaxed. Utterly untense.

Practically loosey goosey.

She holds out one finger for the surprisingly cold nose to sniff it. And in her heart, as she holds her breath, the mantra is repeated: Like me, like me, please like me.]

brushes with death / near the bazaars

[somebadnews]

[ Not long past their arrival, and Five has already been running himself ragged, trying to keep his eyes on his family and the threats that linger in every alley, from every angle. The dangers here are the worse they've seen since Alem. Undead warlords circle while his newly-alive brother and twice-dead sister expose an uncomfortable vulnerability that needs constant vigilance, not to mention that those preying on memories hit a very sore spot with him.

He's not prepared to lose anything else.

Unfortunately, his powers have been acting off since he took Karsa's potion, so he's walking far more and traveling far slower than usual. He's near the bazaar when he spots a familiar mass of hair poking out from the shadows, and it takes only a moment of observation to figure out what got her attention. The spirit-slavers make even him uncomfortable, but Hermione has a history of springing to causes that are outside of their interests. The moment she starts to approach, he blinks over to block her path.

Of course, teleporting lands him in the middle of another puddle that he's really sure wasn't there before. It splashes loud enough to draw her attention, if she hadn't already seen the flash of light, and he quickly interrupts before she can make a comment about it. ]

You really want to make more problems for us?

[reparo]

[She hasn't been having the best of times since arriving here, but if there's one thing you can count on is that Hermione Granger will follow a mission.

There's more to caretaking than making food. There's making sure the food exists, there's making sure they have a house to sleep in, there's compromising your moral code for the sake of efficiency.

One last hurrah, carry on and keep calm.

Except she knows the spirit in chains, it's the former performer who sold them the first home in exchange for a dance, and Hermione cannot abide by this.

There's crack-thwip of teleportation, water splashing over her shoes, and the expected dry remark. Fuming, she snaps at him:]

Don't be so self-centred - there's more than one way to secure support here and besides that - this is unacceptable.

[She looks at Five for one beat, then squares her shoulders.]

So - [And she marches on, wand drawn, aimed at the wicked looking thug holding that chain.]

I'll say this once only - let them go.

[somebadnews]

[ Self-centered? He came over here to make sure she wasn't about to make a bad decision, but she's angrier than he anticipated. Which is dangerous. He's been that angry, and she's more like him than he'd prefer her to be. These people enslave souls, what does she think they can do to her? ]

Hermione — [ She doesn't even listen before she's pushing past him to confront the hefty looking man dragging the spirit along. He teleports again.

Another annoying splash of a puddle, but he's between them. The thug isn't alone, and this is a stupid plan. She's not nearly as threatening as she thinks she is with her little wand, and nobody seems intimidated. The most she's gotten is their attention, which only barely wavers to him when he blinked. If anything the slaver who looks between them shifts from confused to amused, as some of them men behind him chuckle. ]

Don't do that. [ He's talking to the thug who is now tugging on the chain to yank the spirit back. Five knows Hermione is one taunt away from using her wand and she's a lot more capable than she looks. Then to Hermione: ] I thought you were smarter than this. Come on, we don't have the time.

CW: death

[reparo]

[She's not listening, her eyes on the thug and blazing with fury at the injustice of this.]

Five, the day I don't fight this kind of injustice is the day you can assume I'm dead.

[A solid declaration, and while riding on the adrenaline of it she decides she's also done being underestimated. She aims at the thug and pulls one out of Harry's book.]

Ex-pile-armoosh - wait what?

[Spoilers: this is the first time she's tried to use a spell since arriving in Hatthevar and this is how she learns of her curse.

First try is a miss, but she's persistent - ]

Experlliarmus!

[The chain holding the performer ghost flies out of the thug's hand, and the rest happens in quick succession:

Hermione calls out Run to the prisoner, the thug decides it's fighting time, and a knife sails through the air.

Hermione fires a Diffindo, only it sounds like a 'tiffin-toe', and the knife hits - deep, sharp, and on target.

Hermione's chest is the target, and it's funny but - ah - it stings a li ]

[somebadnews]

[ Two thugs that weren't focused on Hermione edge closer to him, curious about the teleporting kid, and probably amused by the idea that they could stop any of them. He draws back with his fists clenched when he hears her shouting.

He doesn't see the knife. Not until it sails past him and buries itself in Hermione's chest.

It's a shock he hasn't felt in a long while. His mouth falls open at the sight of her crumpling to the ground like they'd just cut her strings. Dead. It was such a stupid chance encounter. Five hadn't been looking for her, maybe he wouldn't have distracted her and she'd be alive. None of this should have happened. None of this can happen, after all this time. ]

No.... no you're not.... shit.

[ Seconds slip by as they turn their heads to him, stepping closer one minute, and then suddenly stopping. Going backwards. His hands glow blue as he takes hold of time and pulls. 'Come on'.

It's a muscle he hasn't flexed in years, but he never forgot how to. Blue encircles him as he keeps rewinding and watches the knife sail backwards, and Hermione gets to her feet.

When he releases his grip on time, he's next to Hermione again on the outskirts of the bazaar, her face still full of indignant anger and ready to charge. That's until he grabs her wrist and blinks both of them out of sight. Once they come out the other side, he slams against a wall, he doesn't know where, breathing heavy and staring wide-eyed at her. His heart jackhammers in his chest, and he waves to try to keep her from sprinting off again. ]

That... was what I wanted to avoid.

[reparo]

[She hasn't been having the best of times since arriving here, but if there's one thing you can count on is that Hermione Granger will follow a mission.

There's more to caretaking than making food. There's making sure the food exists, there's making sure they have a house to sleep in, there's compromising your moral code for the sake of efficiency.

One last hurrah, carry on and keep calm.

Except she knows the spirit in chains, it's the former performer who sold them the first home in exchange for a dance, and Hermione cannot abide by this.

There's crack-thwip of teleportation, water splashing over her shoes, and suddenly she's pulled along through time and a small amount of space too - and lands in a puddle. ]

Five - what the bloody hell?

[ She whirls around, trying to find the exact spot where he's apparated them (time-travelled-them? nevermind that it's fascinating), but she notes the waxy look on Five's face and it kills (ha) her anger. ]

What's wrong - why are you being more cryptic than usual?

[somebadnews]

[ He’s still catching his breath, more than just adrenaline buzzing in his skin, but he’s able to relax some of his tension when Hermione stays put. A strangely satisfied smile flits across his face; near delirious that it worked correctly for the second time in his life. The smile fades when his gaze is stuck on the spot the knife struck. That guy knew what he was doing to have such good aim. Didn’t even hesitate, the Commission would have… ]

It’s fine. [ He shakes his head and pulls himself up from the puddle he landed in, only just becoming aware of it. He attempts to find his words as he brushes water from his sleeves. ] I undid it. You’re fine.

[reparo]

Undid what?

[The confussion is replaced by dread, but she tries to not connect dots too fast. Besides which, they're now in some other location, and wet -

She scoffs and impatiently draws her wand, aiming a drying spell at his shoes (it works) and then at hers (it doesn't work).]

What the devil?

{ the deep-recessed vision—all was blight; lamia, no longer fair, there sat a deadly white

[matermali]

[ When she can smell it in the air all around, Vanessa starts to wonder if hunger has driven her temporarily mad. The bewilderment leaves her paralyzed until the assault on her senses somewhat abates. Then, just as she moves for an exit to investigate, the door opens and the scent of blood burns at her until her throat is raw and a growl scratches its way through. Even from halfway across the room, it's overwhelming.

There's no relief when the door is shut—someone has entered seemingly drenched. Not just someone, but one of their own. Why is Miss Granger covered in blood? Vanessa might be more concerned, but it isn't the girl's. She knows the scents of all party members who have crossed her path, just as she knows the cadence of their heartbeats.

She can smell fear... This isn't that.

Unfortunately, higher thinking is not serving her very well at the moment. She has been starving ever since departing Ephes, so while she should perhaps go and ask Hermione if everything is all right, instead Vanessa disappears into the shadows to wait and follow.

Silence is second nature. Illusion is simple. Patience is torment. ]

[reparo]

[The rain is blood. She can't believe that the rain is blood.

Hermione's foray into the Gambling Dens this time is on the bloody side, though not because she's committed violence.

It's just that she was out in the rain, and her spellwork is not reliable here. She can't try a cleansing spell indoors, it might attract the wrong sort of attention so she is going to blend in.

Bloodied.

She pulls a face and wipes her eyes clean with her fingertips, which she cleans on her white shirt under her cloak. At least she had the hood up, so her hair is mostly clean and dry when she lowers it, although the dark blue is now looking rather violet.

She looks around quickly to spot someone who might lend her a handkerchief or something. An ally, hopefully.]

[matermali]

[ This ally is remaining hidden until the girl is passing nearby, but then a hand snakes out from the shadows to gently encircle her wrist while a low voice whispers from behind. ]

Miss Granger, you appear a mess.

[ Seemingly appearing out of nowhere is likely bad enough, but Vanessa is also lingering a little (a lot) too close and tucking back the girl's bloodied hair. The tickle of her breath is scarcely enough to keep her lips from brushing against the shell of Hermione's ear when speaking, where the softened rasp of her voice nearly trembles from her restraint. ]

Do you need assistance with anything?

[reparo]

[Someone (probably Wrath) once told her that she wasn't as well prepared for combat as some of the more paranoid people in their group, and they were right.

(But given that she doesn't remember who it was, she doesn't think it's necessary to tell then they were right.)]

Sweet Merlin's b - Miss Ives. Ah, yes, well - not intentionally. I've been caught in the rain here which is...blood.

[She feels an unnaturally cold breath against her ear and flinches a bit, wrestling herself out of the grip enough to turn to face Vanessa Ives. Her once roommate. (And they were once roommates.)]

I'm sure I look a treat right now.

oh my god they were roommates

[matermali]

[ Rain it may be, but it smells...human? What sort of dark magic is that, then? Something about it seems slightly off, not quite as richly-scented as what pumps through the girl's bleeding heart.

The movement of the turn is just enough for her to nearly have a taste, and the desire leaves Vanessa shuddering with the swipe of her tongue at her lower lip. Slowly, she steps so as to force Hermione backwards. ]

A mess of a treat... Let me help.

[ In the shadows and low lighting (where is her shadow?), it could be easy to miss if one isn't actually paying attention, but eyes that should be pale have drowned in an inky black, and once blue irises now bleed red. The paleness of her skin has gone nearly ashen, only paler still are the veins that web from her eyes to her temples.

In favor of bloodlust, it seems that some of her glamour has been abandoned along with all of her sense. ]

Maybe she's Victorian, maybe she's a vampire

[reparo]

[The change is so sudden it's like it melts off her bones: every inch of warmth, of humanity, gone just as Hermione's back hits a wall.

She sucks in a breath,]

Vanessa. What are you - [Come on Hermione, connect the dots quickly: she doesn't sleep, she doesn't eat, she has that unnatural glow. The woman isn't just Victorian.

But - but she looked after Hermione. In the jungle, when she'd been all but sick after her encounter with the snake god, Vanessa had looked after her.

Now she's just looking at Hermione like she's a meal.]

What's happened to you?

[matermali]

[ It's to her credit that she's even capable of speech right now, but then she isn't just any lowly vampire. For that sake, she's able to stay aware enough not to rip apart this entire building in her desperation for sustenance.

The question gives her pause, but her appearance remains with its menace. She isn't even actively aware of it, but there's a question at this point of how much she should care. ]

The blood. It's human.

[ Slowly this time, she reaches as if hoping to cup Hermione's face. ]

Let me help.

[reparo]

[Instinct finally takes over, thankfully. The same instinct that roars at her to run. She catches that wrist, her eyes narrowing.]

How would you know that it's human, Miss Ives?

[She tightens the grip, her wand in her opposite hand, firmly in her hand. Ready, even it's betrayed her over the past couple of days, if she should need to use it.]

Is it because you're a vampire?