MOD PLOT | CHAMPROVENT.

[heorte]

WHO: Teren, Ellis, Edgard, Lucien, and Vance
WHAT: Assisting with the cleansing of Champrovent and ensuring the taint doesn't spread beyond the village.
WHEN: August through Kingsway
WHERE: Champrovent
NOTES: ooc info + warnings for infection, discussion of murder, death, general unpleasantness.

Comments

[pittance]

His hands (his skin is blistering) are lifted (the man in the dining hall is screaming —) to speak when it happens. Time they laid this argument to,


rest.


Time doesn’t inch like clocks, tick after implacable tock; always one foot in front of the next. Time slows: Pools, ebbs again about the snap of a bowstring, of a dozen turning heads.

Tick. Less than a second. Tick,

— and he’s moving, behind Ellis, back thrust to block the door before he really knows the need. Vance drags it shut (scratches inside the wood), slams the bar into place. One last glimpse of the scene outside: Of small hands twitching in the dirt. A spreading stain.

Hyacinthe is the first to spy the mace, a glint that draws faded eyes after slack jaw. It casts him somehow younger. Can't have been so old to begin with: Little more than Ellis, than Vance; only hard-faced and hard living. His withered fingers twist, pull at each other with unexpressed grief. Inexpressible. Teren erupts, and the hunter shrinks, and the house is full of screams.

Already was. Time pools,

You’ve got a choice. Someone is beating at the window. They can’t make this easy, can at least make it quick.

"I’m going back there," Vance lifts his own voice, doesn’t reach for a blade. Those hands again, palms empty and drawing toward Hyacinthe. He thinks he sounds calm, but who could say? The house is screaming. The man on the table was screaming. "I'm going to take a look."

Voyeurs,

"Anyone's not too sick to travel," Or young or old or weak or, "We’ll talk. Just you and me."

He steps around the hunter — busy forcing her own courage back toward Teren, reaching to tug at her sleeve.

"Please," She confesses. "I don’t want to die like,"

A look to the door. Hyacinthe is silent. Still. Vance slips beneath his arm, and vanishes into shade.