Life & Death || Typhoon & Vorel

typhoonagentblue:

Typhoon sighed as he clicked on the keyboards in Stark Tower. Today seemed like it was going to be a boring day. He was already over halfway through his watch and not even a bank robbery had occurred. It was days like today that he missed being back at the X-Mansion where he could at least hang out with the other students close to his age. Most of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were far older than he was and it made him slightly uncomfortable hanging out with them.

Plus, being a telepath didn’t make it easy to talk to them informally anyway.

It wasn’t until he started hearing screams that made him jump did he realize he had almost fallen asleep at his watch. “Jarvis,” he asked looking around to figure out what was going on.  ”Where is that screaming coming from?”

“It appears that there are reports of the Zombie Apocalypse starting in New York City,” responded the animated hard drive that occupied the tower.

“Get me coordinates of the outbreak zone,” said Ty, attaching a mini read out visor to his earpiece, allowing Jarvis to visually send him the coordinates as he ran out of the room to take off.  ”I’m going to run containment.”  He booked it off the tower, surfboard forming in mid air as he flew off, Jarvis giving him the coordinates mid flight.

As he approached, he saw an army of zombies starting to march on the city. “My god,” he whispered to himself, staying suspended on his water board in midair for a few moments as he assessed the situation, looking for the best place to start wiping out the zombies.

Vorel was bored. Incredibly, skull-numbingly bored. In the ‘city that never sleeps’, entertainment was surprisingly hard to come by… at least for an anathema like her. Her time was spent mapping the roads and alleys, memorizing landmarks, and learning. Learning about this new age. Learning about what she missed, trapped beneath the sands.

Her evening walk led her through Central Park, to the famous Green-Wood Cemetery. Spirits milled about, caught in varying stages of death, but not many- people don’t die in graveyards. Their empty shells are deposited beneath the soil, their souls either passed on or left haunting the spot they died. Seeing the few here that she did… it was interesting. Vorel took a quick look around- she was the only person in the graveyard. Good, good.

She hooked her nails through the flesh of her jaw and tugged, pulling, ripping, unhinging the bone. Dark green energy began to glow in the empty void of her mouth, becoming a vortex, drawing in the wayward spirits.

-assaulted murdered car crash accountant college student divorced tickets to Wicked screaming-

She forced their memories down, locking them away to look through later. It was always interesting, watching their lives flash inside her mind, but right now she needed to act. Her magic thrummed inside of her, writhing, eager to release.

That’s why I’ve been so restless. I need to cast. I need to destroy. I need… I need to raise a little hell. Three thousand years can give you such a thirst for action.

Vorel walked to the center of the cemetery and knelt against the dewey grass. She bit into her wrist and tore, black blood splashing onto the ground. With one slender finger she began to draw in the liquid, chanting under her breath. Her voice became thin, hollow, raspy; the sound of dry parchment scraping against bone. The sound of a death rattle. The voice of death.

Sickly gray-green energy spread from her spellwork, creeping outward, reaching toward every grave. The network splintered and branched, dipping into the sunken ground beneath each headstone. The earth trembled as hands forced their way up, clawing through the dirt. FOur hundred and seventy-eight acres of corpses, rising at her call.

“Come along, my pets. Let’s have some fun.”

Glass and Steel || Vorel&Mia

sunshinebrightlikeadiamond:

Mia looked sheepish as the woman lowered her hand.  Handshakes were still so confusing because she’d never gotten a real answer to the question why humans shook hands. The alien had never gotten a grip on something like ‘the proper etiquette of handshakes’. It had seemed weird to her, shaking hands when she hadn’t even heard the woman.

“Oh, that’s good I think, if you’d be hearing it than I probably turned up the volume way to high” Mia stated. For some reason, she felt more awkward than normal. She grabbed her MP3 player and turned the music off, before shoving it in her pocket.

Mia smiled back at the woman. As far as she knew people didn’t actually ‘simply say hello’ without a reason. At least, they hadn’t done back on her own planet or Earth so far, but maybe it was just something rare, or something from a different culture. The Majesdane decided that she liked it, so far.

“That’s nice of you” Mia stated brightly. “I’m Mia, nice to meet you, miss?”

Vorel tried to ignore her own lack of knowledge on the technology of this age. It made her feel week, and that was something she loathed.

“My name is Vorel, and yes, it is a pleasure. I’m a little lost, I’m afraid. I’m looking for a man named James Moriarty. I was given an address, and unfortunately I’ve been unable to find it.”

She knew exactly where to go, but she’d instigated this discussion- she would see it through. Besides, there was something interesting about the woman before her. She wanted to learn more.

Two Halves || Vorel and Seb

sebymoran:

“Fuck.” Sebastian sighed long, continuing to thread fingers through his clean hair. “Holmes. Alive? No..”

Was it all really so worth it? He’s alive..but so is Holmes. The reason Jim left, together remember Boss? You’re not the monster these fakes make you out to be. A bullet, my mouth. No one is fuckin’ with you, but you’re fine I fuckin’ get it.

His eyes guided back to the beauty of Vorel.

“Don’ bother with explaining, just. Prove it t’me he’s going to be fine if I came home.”

Vorel stepped forward. “I’m going to need to…” She trailed her eyes along his body. “touch you, for this to work. You’ll need to come down to my level, darling, you’re a good foot taller than I.”

Sebastian leaned down and she pressed their foreheads together, her hands resting on his temples. She opened her connection to Jim, flaring it wide, forcing it to flow into Sebastian’s mind.

A dim warehouse. Jim, huddled against the wall. John huddled about 10 feet away. Jim’s eyes are swollen, tears on his face.

“I want him back. I just want him back.”

The Irishman’s voice is full of sorrow, of need.

“I’m so sorry.”

Vorel tapped directly into Jim’s mind.

sebsebsebSEBSEBSEBSEBIneedyouImissyoumytigertigertigerplease-

She snapped it off before it could overwhelm them, stepping back from the blonde sniper quickly.

“It started yesterday,” she said quietly. “He began calling for you in the darkness, and I… I set out to find you. And now here you are. You, Sebastian, are the only person who can help him, who can calm him. If you need proof of Holmes… well, Jim can tell you. He’s already punished him, although I can see you wanting a bit extra for all he cost you and your… boss.”

She wrapped her arms around her chest, cupping her elbows.

“Please. I’m… I’m not the sort of creature to beg. He’s hurting, deeply, and he shouldn’t have to be alone. Not now that you’re back. I know the emptiness, the hopelessness he feels. I can’t… Mine can’t be fixed, but you? You can make him whole again. You’re the missing half of his soul.”

The Witching Hour || Vorel and Andi

si-vis-amari:

“That’s where I was hoping you would come in,” Andi sighed.

“Like I said, they’re practically untouchable and I don’t have the knowledge, let alone the power, to track them. Do you know of anything we could do?

“I do know of a ritual that can track them, if I can get an item of theirs, something my spys could find them by.”

That was the thing Vorel appreciated most about the dead- there was no land where there weren’t thousands of restless spirits to tap into, to command. Her network was vast.

Two Halves || Vorel and Seb

sebymoran:

Sebastian coughed and cleared his throat, “Never die? He’s fine…” That’s all that matters, for now. 

“I can never die and you’re a..oh shit.” 

His eyes trailed the magic flowing and bright, too real. Assuming it could be fake, impossible. His pulse, the air. It couldn’t be something fake, but since she could bring him back. Raise him from hell, she could also put him slammed back into his cell.

Sebastian stepped back knowing he was unarmed. “I wouldn’t leave him, I need you to catch me up on what’s been happening. You know. You have to know. There isn’t a damn thought that I wouldn’t be up with a rifle, looking back at his brilliant face. Jim is my Boss, I serve him. But where does that lead us? Does this consider you an ally? Miss..” 

“Vorel,” she said quietly, “and yes, allies is appropriate. You two… I’ve learned a lot about you, since bringing him back. Brilliant, the work you’ve done. I admire it. I’m not…”

She licked her lips, gathering her thoughts.

“I’ve been out of the world for a while myself. Everything’s… Everything’s different, than when I was bound. Technology, continents, politics… I’m trying to get caught up myself, Mister Moran. I’m more in the dark than you are, I’m afraid. I do know that Sherlock Holmes is alive, and that Jim needs you.”

Vorel closed her eyes, testing the connection. Suffering. Screaming. Violence, violated, get away get away get away-

“He needs you badly. He’s hurting.”

Glass and Steel || Vorel&Mia

sunshinebrightlikeadiamond:

Mia wondered why people had the impression that most kills were done in the middle of the night. Maybe they are she told herself. After all, I depend on sunshine. She stretched her arms above her head and enjoyed the rays of sun on her skin after being trapped in that awful building for roughly an hour.

She had been there to report back in to the people who had hired her for a hit she’d placed earlier that day, to receive her money and to leave. They didn’t pay in cash but instead put the money in her account via various transfers, in order to remain anonymous. That suited the alien just fine, as long as they didn’t bother her later.

People filled the streets and it wasn’t hard for Mia to blend in as she started making her way to where she had parked her car, a few minutes walking from the building she had just emerged in. She was thinking about what she should do for the day. Go bother Corvin? Try new recipes?  Try to meet new people? Mia had no idea.

Mia put her earbuds in her ears and started humming along to the song she was playing. She almost reached her brightly colored car when she spotted a lady in front of a wooden bench. The lady rose, somehow alerted to her presence and said something to her. Mia pulled one bright pink earbud out of her ear again.

“Sorry, what were you saying? I had music on” she apologized with a sheepish smile, glancing at the outstretched hand. I didn’t catch her name, should I still shake her hand? Oh man, human interaction is so complicated.

It was easy to see the confusion on the woman’s features, even as quickly as it passed. No matter; half of the time, Vorel simply did not understand human reactions, so she lowered her hand and narrowed her eyes at the pink device.

“Music? I don’t hear any music…” Vorel tilted her head to the side, studying the woman before her. There was something different about her- apart from the obvious insanity.

“I simply said hello,” she said with a smile.

Glass and Steel || Open

New York City. An entire continent that didn’t exist in her time, thousands of miles of unexplored land beneath her feet. It was daunting, to say the least, and made her a little uncomfortable. There was no space in the city, no room to breath. Simply confinement.

While during the days of her reign close quarters didn’t bother her, the imprisonment had left her with a nasty taste in her mouth. She needed vast emptiness, enough room to stretch her legs and not encounter a single person. The bright lights and crowded streets here just… they were not right. Vorel felt trapped. And lost.

There were spirits everywhere; plenty of death in this city, plenty of loss. She took comfort in the twisted faces, the withered essences, the gory shades. Those, at least, were something the necromancer understood.

She was studying a particularly nasty looking suicide imprint when something drew her attention- someone staring at her, crouching in front of a wooden bench, watching it go through the motions of putting a bullet in its head. Vorel rose and turne toward the interloper.

“Lot of interesting things in this city for a visitor. I’m impressed. My name is Vorel.” She held out a delicate hand, golden gleaming with interest.

Two Halves || Vorel and Seb

sebymoran:

When Sebastian calmed, feeling his heart begin to set a beat and her voice clear and dark in his ear, he raised his brows. 

“Jim? My Boss..he’s..alive again?” 

A flash of setting, looking down towards Jim’s body bullet shot through the upper jaw and clear into the skull. Dead. Seb couldn’t take it, he was the only thing that kept him from it all. The memories, the purpose of his existence was for Jim. ”I’ll follow you then. I an always close behind.” Bullet was shot, Sebastian fell at the roof of the hospital, dead, where Jim was previously laid…

“What the fuck did you do to me. Where is he? Why?!” Sebastian threw his arms up, furious was the first emotion. 

I could feel, see and breathe, why?

“Yes, your boss is alive. I found him- the same way I found you. Well, okay, not the same way. His soul was calling out; I had to actively search for you. Not only is he alive, he’s… better. He can never die. Like you, now. Call it a… a gift.”

Still smiling, she sat down against the edge of the roof.

“What I did, Mr. Moran, is grip your soul and pull it back from hell- or whatever passes for it these days. I’m more than just a necromancer, you see. I can make people… better, when I bring them back. You’re living, you’re breathing, and you? You cannot be killed again. You feel pain, oh yes, but you will always regenerate. Do try not to leave him again. He needs you to function. He needs you to keep him focused.”

Vorel tossed her hair and placed a hand against the cement roof. Dark green energy flowed from her palm, darkening the pavement in a pattern.

“An address. He’s in…” She closed her eyes, feeling along the connection. “…New York.”