#{ ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ : ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴇɪʟ } ;; crossover

[dealingwithdemonsrp]

@codebestowed sent in a meme! || “No, stop! Stay away! I said, STAY AWAY!” ( this can be from Obscura Data if you want, totally up to you OvO )

» — † — » A forgotten village, covered in snow. Alex stared down at it, and he felt Xael coil and writhe within his prison at the sight.

His home. The place in Alex's dreams. The demon hissed, scraping and clawing with a fervor to make his host turn back, but Alex firmly planted his feet and hissed a prayer under his breath. It had taken every last penny and favor he could scrabble together to get here, and he wasn't about to turn back just because of an anxious demon. Even if Alex wanted to, turning back would be nigh impossible anyway--the pass he'd cut through to get to this valley was buried under several feet of snow. A white fog had settled in, too, dense like cotton, and looking back, he could barely see the forest just beyond the village bounds anymore.

Something told him turning back now would mean wandering that mist forever.

Alex unwrapped one of the energy bars he'd brought with him, biting into the cheap, chalky brick and chewing it slowly as he took in the sights. The village was old, incredibly so, and could hardly be described as a village at all anymore save for a few rotted posts and weathered cornerstones, indicating where houses had once stood. Trees had sprouted up in the time since its abandoning, sparse, but clustered close enough together to somewhat shield the ground beneath from snowfall. No grass grew. No lichens, either. There were no signs of wildlife, either--no tracks, no cries, no marks, nothing.

It was just Alex, the moon, the snow, and the village--and whatever else lay in waiting in the old ruins. And he was just fine with that. Shoving the wrapper into his pocket as he finished the last of his energy bar, Alex stepped into the empty grounds, snow crunching beneath his boots. His breath rose in frosted mist before him, blending in with the fog that loosely clung to the surrounding air. But aside from that? It was utterly silent.

Even Xael was silent, something that Alex couldn't help but feel just a bit unnerved by. Granted, he hadn't exactly been favorable this whole trip. If anything, he had seemed more determined than ever to convince his host that this was a bad idea.

But now that they were here. . . .

Alex's foot bumped into something solid, and he looked down to see a snapped over trunk--or at least, that's what he thought it was. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was part of an old building. The lumber had long since rotted away beyond recognition, woodrot and weathering reducing it to little more than splintered bone, with stone inset strategically around it to anchor it.

Something lay discarded among the ruins, and Alex stooped down to pick up the glinting object. His fingers touched something cold and sharp, and lightning shot through his veins. Ice stabbed into his temples, chilling visions wracking his brain, and Alex cried out in pain as images invaded his mind.

A woman stood here, basket under her arm, her hips cocked to balance the load. Furs layer over a warm, woolly dress, her blonde hair braided up and away from her tattooed face. A little distance away, two children--a boy and a girl--bearing her heavy eyes and crooked nose run past, laughing as they chased each other through the square.

Another was watching them, hidden amongst the people milling about in the background, but Alex could feel his eyes. Dark, watchful, haunting--his manufactured boots and synthetic fabrics keeping him warm as snow goggles shielded his eyes set him apart from the villagers passing by and through him. In his hands was a strange device. A camera? It, too, belonged to a different time and place.

A boy appeared at the man's side, and the noise of the village became steadily louder, the people moving faster. Something was wrong. Alex covered his ears as screams and shouts in a forgotten language echoed all around him, fire scorching his bare skin where the deceased scrambled past in screeching blurs of panic. Pain cut across his back, and he stumbled forward as the man out of time and his companion turned their backs.

Another slash, followed by a cry that shook Alex to his bones, and he realized that the village was under attack. Something shot through him, driving back the source of the agony, and he stumbled after the stranger with his camera. Xael hissed in pain, low growls of discontent rumbling through Alex's core where the demon squirmed.

More spirits fled through him, more visions stabbing into his brain. The children, the children--! A little boy cried in his mother's arms as her body shielded him from the hail of arrows descending upon them. A warrior let out a vicious cry, his face a contorted vision of anger and ferocity as he charged.

Alex stumbled through the chaos assailing his senses, trying to pick out one ghostly pair of footsteps amongst many. But amidst the chaos and blurred spirits attacking from all sides, it was impossible to see anything. Where had they gone? Why wasn't it stopping? Damn it, if everything would just stop, for just a moment--!!

"No, stop! Stay away! I said, STAY AWAY!"

The voice cut through the turmoil, and for a second, the vision seemed to freeze in time. Splitting pain shot up Alex's foot, the ground hurtled up to meet him, and he shouted in pain as he hit the dirt face first. His hands went flailing wildly in front of him as he tried to break his fall, but all he managed was to further disorient himself.

"Shit!"

His hand landed on something strangely shaped and ice cold, too smooth and curved to be a tool, with ridges and an odd shape. What the . . . ? Alex raised his head and shook it, squinting at his find. An old camera lay on the ground beneath his hand, covered in a thin layer of frost. It looked . . . ancient. Relatively, anyway. Wasn't this the same camera that guy had been holding . . . ?

It took a moment to register that the onslaught of visions and spirits had stopped--but now stood before him was a boy. Alex jumped, sitting upright with a sharp inhale. What was a kid doing out here of all places? And dressed like that in this cold? And his eyes. . . . Alex's own unnatural blues widened at the sight of those red eyes, taking in the black scrawling over part of the youth's face. Another spirit. And yet . . . somehow he didn't seem entirely malevolent, unlike the ones Alex was used to.

Clutching the old camera in his hands, Alex stood up slowly and stared down at the strange boy. "Who are you?"

[dealingwithdemonsrp]

@dichotomouskey liked this post for a starter with Alex!

» — † — » "I swear to God, one more fucking Heartless, and I'm gonna scream bloody murder," Alex snarled. Black shapes and glowing yellow eyes squirmed and twitched around him, claws and fangs and weapons drawn for the kill. One particularly bright yellow bell danced around in the air and paused. Energy crackled, and the scent of ozone was the only warning Alex got before dodging a lightning bolt.

He was open, and another Heartless took the chance to jump. Black claws raked across his back with the force of a large dog, and Alex hissed. Warmth seeped into his already ruined shirt from the scratch. Two more Heartless swarmed in to attack, and Alex growled.

"Fuck off already!"

He threw his twin silver daggers at the incoming creatures, blue-black glows surrounding the blades as they flew through the air with uncanny accuracy into their targets. Puffs of smoke evaporated where the Heartless struck, and a smirk teased the corners of Alex's mouth as he felt a small rush of pride. He was stronger. Better. Above these pitiful lost souls. They were better off as feed.

Freezing spikes of onyx black erupted from the ground in a shower of frost and shadow, striking two more of the swarm, and Alex's eyes glowed, dark energy swirling around his arm. Another Heartless-from behind!--attempted to get close, but his daggers spun through the air and sliced it in two just as it closed in.

Now it was just the same yellow bell left, and it was already forming more lightning for another strike--and Alex moved too late this time. Electricity struck his leg, a shock of pain exploding across his nerves as his muscles seized and twitched, and he stumbled and fell as his leg gave out. The daggers he'd been controlling clattered to the ground uselessly, his concentration disrupted. And from the corner of his eye, Alex swore he could see more.

Weak. If he just let a little bit more in. . . .

Alex shook his head. No . . . no! He could do this without losing control! He had it! At least, that was what he wanted to believe. He needed Xael. Maybe if he just--

"I'm in control!" he seethed.

Alex hissed and scrambled back to his feet--he didn't have time to worry about that now. Shadows flared in his palms, more ice and cold freezing the moisture in the atmosphere. Obsidian icicles dripping with malicious intent, aglow with the same blue as his eyes, shot through the air. Two buried themselves in the thunder bell. A small barrage more blasted into the horde still forming.

Necrosis tingled Alex's fingertips, and he trembled as more of that sickening rush filled him with the last of the Heartless slain for now. His heart pounded, his breathing ragged, and he hissed as he gripped at his hair. That clawing . . . that scratching! He could feel Xael pressing, pushing, tearing at the edges of his consciousness, and Alex trembled and shook his head fervently. The red beads wrapped around his wrist burned into his skin.

"No, no, no. . . . I'm in control. . . . I'm in control. . . . I'm in control!!" Alex shouted. Concentrate! Concentrate. The rosary--

But before he could begin praying, he felt a shadowy presence creep into his periphery. Something stronger, something darker, something . . . human. Alex whipped around, more black ice flying from his afflicted palm towards this new arrival, one eye's sclera already beginning to blacken as those icy hues burned brighter.

"Get the hell away from me if you know what's good for you!" he snapped, anger flaring the shadows along his arm like flames. Better anger than the creeping panic he felt. Another person? Here? Now?

Let them come closer. He was starving for a proper living soul.

Alex bared his teeth and summoned his daggers, letting them hang menacingly in the air with their crackling auras as he leveled a glare at the stranger. "Last chance--piss off, or I'll make you leave!"

[dealingwithdemonsrp]

@forevermonsters sent an ask! || "The moon looks pretty tonight…" // to alex from petal

» — † — » There was something comforting about winter. Even though Alex barely had a penny to his name and no warm bed to rest his weary bones, the crisp night breeze nonetheless felt refreshing through his layered shirts and ragged jeans. Snow had already fallen that morning, and the obsidian sky with its silvery moon promised more tomorrow, if the temperature drop held.

Maybe that was why Alex liked it so much, even if the dry air left him licking his chapped and cracking lips. A blistered spot drew a hiss, and he sighed out a puff of steam, smiling as it rose and twisted in the air. Nights like this always reminded him of the first time his mother took him outside to build a snowman.

But Alex wasn't here to reminisce. He reached into his outer pocket, wrappers and paper crinkling as he rummaged around, and pulled out a piece of hard candy along with a crumpled piece of newspaper. 'Midtown Murders Continue...' read the headline as he unfurled it. In his other hand, he undid the candy wrapper before popping the bright red treat into his mouth, sugar and chili powder and a hint of watermelon melting in his mouth as he read over the article again.

'Abigail Beatty, 23, was found dead on E 19th St earlier this week. According to interviews with authorities, her death is being treated as a homicide, though the official cause of death is unknown. Sources say they suspect a possible connection with other similar deaths in the area. . . .'

Alex sighed. Four deaths, and this would make five if it was connected. All young women. All within middle Manhattan. All ruled as exsanguination with no known motive, method, or suspects. Normally, this wasn't his kind of thing and he'd just leave it to the authorities--but that was before he caught wind of the rumors.

The brunet folded up the paper clipping and tucked it back into his pocket, rolling his candy in his mouth with a loud, wet pop! as he stared up at the sky. A tuft of cloud floated past the full moon, like an errant brush stroke on the vast black canvas, and Alex sucked on his treat thoughtfully. These people were dying of blood loss, but if the rumors were to be believed, there wasn't an ounce of blood to be found anywhere near the bodies. So was it cultists, then? Draining and collecting blood for sacrifice?

No, Alex thought. Slashing throats is messy business and draining and collecting a corpse is even messier. You'd need a slaughter room of some kind for it to be efficient, and these are all out in the streets. . . .

Not to mention the absolute lack of demonic activity. If someone was collecting the blood for a ritual, there wasn't anything around to bite, and demons weren't known for being patient when they smelled a ritual in the making. And one eyewitness had said the body had been unmarred when they found it.

"The moon looks pretty tonight. . . ." A voice caught him off-guard, drawing Alex out of his thoughts, and he turned. His bright blue eyes widened with surprise to see a young woman standing nearby. Given the look of her face, she couldn't possibly be more than 20 at most, the same age as the victims he was investigating. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his battered and stained windbreaker, squinting at her curiously.

What was she doing out here? And at this hour of all times? Wasn't she aware of the current danger?

"Uh . . . yeah," Alex replied as he glanced her up and down once more, and he swallowed what remained of the candy. "Yeah, it's real pretty. Um--I'm sorry, but what are you doing out here, miss . . . ?"