#* 𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎 / 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴𝙲𝚁𝙰𝙵𝚃 𝙻𝙸𝙴𝙳 ↠ 𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚎

[cavernovs]

WESTSIDE. 

LOCATION: Davenport Manor, Darklands. TIME: Early Evening.  CLOSED FOR: @deathbeckons​ 

It had taken time. But not nearly as much time as the world had stolen from her making her believe for years that her best friend had been lost to them. 

But she remembered the way her heart once hammered against her ribcage in a flurry of adrenaline when the explosion had left haphazard debris in its wake. And she vividly recalled the way her heart stopped dead when the sight of Mal standing atop of it, coated in a thin layer of dirt.

It was him. 

Because he hadn’t aged a day. 

A ghost of her past that had stolen the life from her in less than a second. She’d frozen, every instinct in her body howled in protest among the wreckage to be doing nothing when there were outcries in the distance, the rumble of still collapsing rubble. Kit just stared, terrified if she moved, or blinked, he’d vanish again - she couldn’t do years of grief again. 

Mal was as real as the bomb had been. And running to him, wrapping desperate arms around him had been almost primal response. Mine. In a way that was more protective, than it was possessive. Though, her wolf might have argued that. They had so much to say, or at least she did, if she could ever dare to let go of him. He was so cold. Ignoring the lingering of death had been secondary, because they were in the midst of a horrible tragedy. 

Eventually, it clicked with her. Mal was there, but it wasn’t because he lived. 

Turned out, they’d both lost wars to creatures they’d been taught to go to battle with. It had been too short, the reunion. Everything spoken in expressions, in trembling lips, in watery eyes. 

That time after, was spent tracking what had happened. All that time, she mourned. And Mal had never looked. Would you have let him find you, even if he had? She knew the answer to that too. After the exile, everything had changed. But she would be damned if she couldn’t try fight for something she thought she once lost. That was easier than admitting the resurfacing complexities of forgiving what had happened after that, of what Axel coming back meant.

It was stupid to be on the Westside, alone. In the collapsing Darklands, but she’d handled herself thus far. Even if every sense itched that she was in danger, and likely, those prowling in the shadows shared that sensation. She didn’t stop for anything, not until she ascended the manor’s steps. This was it. Answers. It wasn’t even that she much cared for them, but it was a well executed excuse if it turned out her desire to have her best friend back wasn’t met with equal want. 

Confident knuckles rapped on the front door. Izara straightened where she should, keenly alert for anyone who might try to take a bite of her when her guard might drop. She wasn’t welcome in the faction, and she could understand the hostility in the air. 

But she wasn’t there for them. 

When the door creaked open, her head lifted with intention: “Mal?”

[cavernovs]

multimuse for calamitoushq !  

izara “kit” levine * /  bio  .  muse.    wcs.    

jakoris davenport * /  bio .    muse .     wcs. 

elian maxwell * / bio .     muse .      wcs.   

[cavernovs]

LOCATION: Dynasty’s Playground; Theatre: Art of Betrayal, Act III. TIME: Late Ig. CLOSED FOR: @oftragxdy​

He’s lost his mind.

Every new revelation had Kit wondering where the man she’d once known had gone; what had once eaten away all the sweet and good of her ex-fiancé and left a rotting lunatic shell of a being. Each time the answer came back to, this world. A toxic, parasitical wasteland where nothing lived to stay whole forever.

And yet she’d still dredged through to see the performance with her friends for the very reason she shouldn’t have.

It was all fucking because of him.

She’d no explanation for the treehouse, why she still lived and breathed when Axel had promised otherwise if they ever crossed paths again. Thought dead. She’d assumed – an untrained wolf left to go rogue in a world she’d been on the other side of til her exile. Back in the clutches of what she once knew like home.

Now, simply, a memory.

She’d fall for every lie whispered from the same maniac still, she was certain. And she hated that. Even loathed that she was worried about the entity on the stage as he carelessly left balls rolling into the audience with little consideration for how enraging his actions were.

Target audience, Ax. If he was intending to rile, she would bet he were successful – and she was upset enough at his poor depiction of the wolves given she were bracketed there now. ( for over half a decade ); a part of her that had taken so long to embrace and accept. Thrown into question by Reyes scheming. Now she were afraid that he were putting together something sickeningly diabolical for his finale.

The most painful part remained to be how out of character he was being; she couldn’t predict what this Axel was capable of.

Who the hell are you now? Izara dug deep to blame him – for everything, for anything; for existing – whatever made it easier to hate him. To look at his face and feel nothing, she wished it were like that. Just for him to be another madman in Calamity like it were simply that.

It never could be.

Swallowing, she stared at the texts, a trick – she had to believe that. Had to. If not because if it were real it would be like ripping open the stitches of her heart. Not again, please. An agony she never wanted to go through for a second time; more painful than the bite that left such vivid scarring on her shoulder. A heart never healed; forever broken.

Yet, each careful step she took towards the edge of the auditorium had her senses alert for anyone noticing her diversion; her disinterest to solve Axel’s next riddle. And he’d been right – the idle few hovering a little too on edge at the doors let her through – she wasn’t sure she even knew half of those who remained under Axel’s guide anymore. But they seemed to be aware of her.

The treehouse had been different; unplanned; accidental; a moment of weakness for the both of them.

This here. now, was voluntary, she’d abided his request to meet with him after Act III and despite her wariness – and his promises, she was fool enough to trust that it would be worth it. Even if she didn’t get answers for the obscene play, she might get closure for everything he never said to her and that was something she’d get nowhere else.

The play didn’t even matter. 

Backstage was dark, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on edge – an eerie kind of silence that didn’t reflect the tens of actors Axel had put onto the front, this was a a corner of solitude – murmured into the abyss of decrepit theatre:

“Axel – ?” 

Kit felt stupid, chasing a ghost of her past with no reason or rhyme besides matters of the heart. She’d thought herself better ��� he’d forgotten her for so long that to simply dive right back into his attention had her turning on her heel to leave.

But she couldn’t be free of the theatre until it were over – he’d told her that too.

Izara paused. Looked at the same door she’d creeped in from, and shook her head – What if he hurts people out there? And she wasn’t there to help?

Her heart leapt when she heard something at her rear, and then – aged wood, burnt and an odd afternote of unwashed leather tickled her nose. Familiar. She found her voice before her heart interfered with her mind:

“Why am I here, Ax?”

[cavernovs]

👅 // A lie my muse has told yours. izara x axel

"I know, that whatever happens, it'll be okay,"

"Your cooking is not that bad,"

[ @oftragxdy ]

[cavernovs]

LOCATION: Dynasty’s Playground; Theatre: Art of Betrayal, Act II. TIME: Fuck knows tbh. Still Late? CLOSED FOR: @calcmityys​ 

It was unnecessary – as had the first act of Axel’s play. Dare it be called a piece of theatre, and not a long dragged out opportunity for him to push his distaste for them all into a tangible manifestation. Kit felt like he was as blind as she had once been – but she’d been less of a fanatic in acting out lewd theatre for shits and fucking giggles. She didn’t know what this was, or what was happening – just that she were worried, and carrying her fear in a tiny little box and burying it beneath humour and faux smiles.

“I don’t know what he’s playing at,” she murmured – troubled, a sideways look thrown at the woman to her left. Kit was perched on the backrest of a chair in the auditorium, feet on the seat so she had a slightly better position to stay aware of her surroundings. A habit she’d always had; never quite switched off. ( not without some secondary help at least. ) A constant alert that spanned from years of surviving as a mortal in a world chasing such beings, to another kind of subsistence as a wolf.

An entire rewrite of her playbook – and Axel needed a better playbill to convince them all that he’d changed his.

No target of the play seemed simply content with the lackluster scenes that painted Reyes as raving madman.

She didn’t need the extra senses to read the damn room. It would explode if they didn’t solve the puzzle given, and tragically there’d be no Act III if no creature were alive ( or civilly seated ) to watch it. Kit were already impressed enough that he’d reached the halfway mark and no scent of blood or death had stained the worn seats of the auditorium.

What a low bar that was.

She surveyed the room – found herself biting her own agitation back and continued to entertain the woman beside her: “They shouldn’t let this stir them, it’s ignorant – on both sides of the stage,”

[cavernovs]

Axel 📲 Kit

Axel: Don't worry. I'm fine.

Kit: You kept my number?

Axel: I... couldn't bring myself to delete it.

Kit: I am. And you know I was worried.

Axel: I knew that you knew me better than anyone and that you'd be worried, yes.

Kit: You're acting bizarre, Ax. I don't care what you're up to, but I didn't recognise you.

Axel: I know.

Axel: In between Act III and Act IV, I need you to come backstage.

Kit: Why?

Axel: I'm trying to keep you safe. Can you let me do that, please?

Kit: You're going to hurt people aren't you?

Kit: You tossed me out Ax, you didn't mind what happened to me then.

Axel: I know what I did. I know.

Axel: Please come backstage after Act III.

Kit: What will happen if I don't?

Axel: I can't tell you right now.

Axel: Just trust me.