Astray ~open~

[Grimwyck]

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[atrb=background,http://i1115.photobucket.com/albums/k543/DecembersChild_Volk/Deadworld/Vivian3.png] Vivian crept easily through the many tangles of thorny bushes and tight-knit tree branches, hiding in shadows as much as possible. She knew she stuck out in this place, her starkly grey fur bright against the soft gold of the forest. But it was safer this way, even if she had attracted the interest of several really annoying pixies. One sat atop her head, chattering in a valley-girl-like way. "Listen, I like you and all," Vivian began slowly, flicking the pixie tugging her tail off. "But it just won't work. Please get off my head." The pixie simply dropped down to sit on her snout, resulting in the raucous laughter of its companions. Going cross-eyed to stare it down, she growled softly. "Get back on my head, or so help me I will sneeze on you." The Brit's threat slid right off the tiny Fae and it leapt atop her head again, shouting "Mush! Mush!" and using a twig as a whip. There is no reasoning with them, you can only hope to contain them.. at least there are not more. Vivian thought. Only to be hit by another four pixies. Now they were starting to grate on her nerves. Calm, calm, she chided herself. It would be rude to wake the other Fae and demons that live here, especially since I'm only here because I got lost. Valiantly trudging on through the sea of pixies obscuring her vision, Vivian ignored the valley-girl-pixie's non-stop chatter. Her ruff raising in annoyance, she found her way onto a dirt path that no doubt led back to Nochoe Village. Just as she had hoped, many of her passengers dropped off there, fearful of ending up under the wheels of a car should they get overzealous and their new playground choose to ignore their pitiful pleas. "So, which way do you think home is?" Vivian asked the valley-girl. It giggled loudly and pointed backward. "Nope, I'm going back to my pack. You can help me find Nochoe Village if you like." With an annoyed huff, Valley-Girl drummed its heels against the point between Vivian's eyes. Flicking her tail to signify a shrug, Vivian turned left down the path, hoping to find someone that knew the way through this place. Scenting the air did no good; the golden pollen irritated her senses and clouded her already abysmal sense of direction. Valley-Girl had gone silent. "You're lost," it chided. "No, just wandering," Vivian replied, holding onto whatever pride she had left as pixies used her tail as a slide. Please tell me there's someone here that knows the way back to civilization..!

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[Castanea]

The demon's eyes narrowed as she surveyed the scene before her - or, rather, below her. A wolf wandered aimlessly down the dirt path towards Nochoe Village. Correction: a werewolf.

Corylus' just-sort-of-brown eyes idly followed the werewolf as she continued onwards, briefly flickering to the pixies still watching her from the edge of the forest.

The dragon shifted slightly in her perch upon the tallest pine tree, trying to get into a more comfortable position for her survey. She snorted softly as the werewolf froze, perking its ears up. A few minutes of silence passed before the she-wolf relaxed and continued on forwards.

Corylus stretched her neck slightly, but did not move as the werewolf moved down the bend in the path and out of her sight range. The hazel colored dragon remained in that stance for a few more moments before she relaxed her neck again, flexing her claws, a slight frown on her face and her spines bristling as a sudden chill passed over her.

Another one alive.

She'd felt it. She had just left that city down ten people (riots were oh so fun to start) but now at least five had been sparked back to life. A deep growl bubbled and simmered in the back of the brown dragon's throat.

Corylus stretched out her leathery wings and, with one powerful leap, launched herself into the air. A bit of a chill was in order.

[Grimwyck]

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[atrb=background,http://i1115.photobucket.com/albums/k543/DecembersChild_Volk/Deadworld/Vivian3.png] Vivian froze again as a loud growl passed over her head. Looking to the sky, she caught sight of the large creature that had (somehow) managed to frighten her. Valley-Girl squeaked and bolted for cover- apparently, pixies feared dragons. And speaking of dragons. Vivian had never seen one (not a real one, anyway) before, much less one so close. Mouth agape, she watched the hazel figure fly overhead, toward where Vivian thought a city was. "Ask and ye shall receive," Vivian muttered, before spinning on her hind paws and galloping after the swiftly moving dragon. However, Vivian prided herself on being the fastest werewolf in her pack, and with the surge of adrenaline the dragon had brought about, she moved even faster. The element Air was a good one, indeed. She closed in on the dragon's shadow, sprinting just below it for a moment before fatigue crept up her burning lungs. She'd just have to accept that she wasn't faster than a dragon. Yelping as she almost ran into a tree, Vivian scrambled to find the path again. Shoot, she thought, growling softly. First chance to meet a dragon and you miss it, idiot. She continued her moping until her paw hit a blacktop road. "Oh," she yipped. Peering into the sky, she could barely make out the image of the dragon. Gathering her tired muscles, she continued running after it. A fellow wolf of her pack raced to meet her, but she refused to break stride. "Alpha Harkness," he panted, "there's been reports... of an... attack... on a nearby.. city!" Vivian nodded, too tired to reply. "Should we... send a scout? It... could be... vampires." Vivian shook her head quickly, drawing a huge breath and letting her words run together. "I saw a dragon and I think it was it" she barked before sucking in another deep breath. The wolf stopped in his tracks, falling too far behind Vivian for her to hear his next comments. She hoped he'd just go home and leave it as it was. For now, she had a dragon to catch.

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[Castanea]

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[atrb=background,http://i1115.photobucket.com/albums/k543/DecembersChild_Volk/Deadworld/Corylus3.png] (The last post is illegible due to the text color. This is a re-post with legible script. - Castanea) Corylus glanced back at the sleek she-wolf as she weaved through the crisp, cool spring air. She growled slightly under her breath, veering sharply in u-turn before suddenly shooting up into the cloud cover. The hazel colored dragon whirled through the thick atmosphere, her breath growing short as she tried to place as much distance as possible between herself and the werewolf. Finally, Corylus eased down from the clouds into the lower atmosphere, her lungs screaming for oxygen and her wings hurting like hell. Or would it be heaven...? Before her loomed the city's huge gothic cathedral, its sharp spires looming above the smaller buildings surrounding it. Corylus landed roughly on the tallest of the towers, above the rose-window, her sharp claws grappling at the weathered stone as she nearly slid off of the sheer rock surface. Her dark brown eyes flickered back to the heath where a lone figure was still trotting along at a steady pace. The demon snorted at the werewolf's persistence, coughing slightly as the air came out in more of a wheeze. The cathedral's occupants had yet to notice her, a fact for which the large demon was grateful, as she shifted to a more comfortable position in which to properly catch her breath. Flexing her sore wings and gently loosing her throbbing claws from the stone of the building, she took in deep breaths and closed her eyes. Corylus reopened her just-sort-of-brown eyes, revealing their transformed sharpness, like chips of discolored ice. The dragon opened her mouth, revealing her relatively long teeth, taking in a low, low breath, much deeper than before, filling her entire body with the frigid air. And then, she breathed out. A gust of cold, water sodden wind ripped from her mouth and out about the city, pouring a chilling rain upon the unsuspecting residents, the formerly sunny day transformed to one of vast, dark clouds. Perfect for pneumonia and other such sicknesses, Corylus thought, grinning to herself. Out of the corner of her eye, the water demon saw a streak of gray. She turned her scaly head to see that the werewolf that had been tracking her earlier had picked up her pace from its former trot, now bolting towards the city at a full sprint. Corylus merely watched her, her wings curled at her sides... Either unable or unwilling to launch herself back into flight.

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[sorastro]

Tabiti reigned in Sirin, running her hand along the back of her neck. It felt stiff for some odd reason, and running her hand along it always helped (healing magic. Such a blessing.). Once her neck was no longer causing her pain, she continued, clicking her tongue to let Sirin know to continue. But she didn't move.
"Sirin, what is the matter?" asked Tabiti, running her hand along the strong neck of her mare. It was strange for Sirin to act like that. Last time she had, they had been at the Fae court and she had sensed one of those accursed spies nearby.
Sighing, the fae woman ran her hand up and down her horse's neck, whispering to Sirin in an ancient tongue. The older the tongue, the more it calmed her horse. This tongue was from the ancient times in South America, one that had died out ages ago.
She sat there for some time, before she felt a change in the air. Sirin stomped her foot, snorting and tossing her head. "Easy, liebling, easy." Sirin always responded to German the most, oddly. "But yes, something is awry."
Oh really? I'd have never guessed.
Tabiti rolled her eyes. Sometimes, Sirin projected her thoughts into her mind, and whenever she did, it seemed to be sarcastic.
"Well excuse me," she said. She let out a whistle, at a particular pitch which only the Fair Folk could hear. Several dozen pixies swarmed about her, in awe at the glamored being atop the horse. "There is something amiss in these woods," Tabiti said imperiously, ready to bully the pixies and sprites of the wood into obeying her. "What have you seen? And do not speak all at once!" Eventually, one pixie darted forward, probably decided the leader just for the moment.
"Uh..." he said. "There was this werewolf here, and she was like...cool. But then there was like, this huge dragon! And it was like-"
"Enough with you," sighed Tabiti. "Your speech grates upon my mind. Who else among you knows what had occurred?"
A small female pixie fluttered, a bit frightened, before her, constantly looking at Sirin's mouth nervously as she said, "There truly was a werewolf and a dragon. Then the weather changed so suddenly. I think it may have been the dragon. The werewolf obviously could not have done so, yes?"
"Very true. Alright, the dragon changed the weather. Though as to why, we do not know. You have been very helpful, and you have my thanks."
And with that, she clicked her tongue, and Sirin was happy to head off through the forest, to find the dragon and learn just why he or she had deigned to do so. Both Sirin and Tabiti were endlessly curious, something that had gotten them into more trouble than any other trait they shared.
There was a town nearby, they knew, so Tabiti urged Sirin to head that way, as the dragon may be preying on the people who lived there. And when a dragon decided to change the weather to do so, he or she would be staying long enough to let some catch an illness and get weak so as to be easy prey.
Or, Tabiti realized with a heavy sigh, it was playing G-d in letting them die at his or her command.
Or, Sirin volunteered he or she is a Scythe. Then they have a reason.
"Oh fine reason," sighed Tabiti. She simply was tired of the war. "Honestly, I cannot comprehend this war. Why are they trying to undo death in the first place? Death is part of life!"
Well, that is what happens when we try to keep our selves separate on purpose. We don’t understand things that others find obvious.
“Yes, even Sister Api understands better than me and she spends all day brushing her hair.” They carried on in comfortable silence, letting the rain soak their hair and (in Tabiti’s case) dress. It would do them no ill, after all. Not as a Fae and her steed.

[Castanea]

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[atrb=background,http://i1115.photobucket.com/albums/k543/DecembersChild_Volk/Deadworld/Corylus3.png] [Again with the font color! Curses! To Sorastro: PARAGRAPH BREAKS! Please. It's hell to read if you don't leave a line of space between paragraphs. - Castanea] Corylus remained atop the church's spire, restarting her breathing exercises. She closed her eyes for a little longer than a standard blink, before opening them again and looking around. She wondered if she should continue on - it wouldn't be long before the werewolf caught up to her, and she still didn't know if the she-wolf was a Scythe or working for the Fleur. At the same time she wondered if she should stay through the disease's incubation period, just to make sure her work wouldn't be tampered with again. The dragon's eyes scanned the city from her high-up perch, surveying the people caught in the torrential downpour of her making. A smile began to curl the hazel colored dragon's lips again, but then a shiver coursed down her spine, causing her lips to involuntarily curl back, revealing her dagger-like teeth. Something else was coming too. One of the Fae. She couldn't stand Fae. While they generally understood the concept of balance (unlike humans) they frolicked too much for her liking. Sure, there were a few serious ones, but those were few and far in between. They were so indecisive - they went with what benefited them, and while sometimes that worked they just couldn't seem to pick a damn side. That was why it was up to her to defend Death and actually get something done. Her eyes which had been idly staring into space while she'd been thinking of the Fae were suddenly drawn to an abrupt flash of movement in one of the alleyways. A running figure - in greyscale. Corylus launched herself off of the spire into a free-fall, spreading her wings to slow her descent once she reached the approximate height of the other buildings. The dragon steered sharply to the right, zooming toward the alleyway in an attempt to reach the specter. She veered into the alley, claws outstretched and mouth open wide, displaying her fangs, as she lunged at the spirit - Only for it to teleport away in a flash. Corylus landed roughly again, scraping her shoulder against the brick building at the back of the dead-ended alley, letting out a roar of frustration as her wings continued to throb from her depletion of magic and reckless flying. She cursed loudly in the dragon tongue - she'd seen that ghost before, and she was most certainly a member of the Fleur. The teenage female ghost with the hoodie had alerted the Fleur of her movements before, and it'd only be a matter of time before the Fleur sent someone with the revival power back to this city. "...I guess this settles it..." Corylus muttered to herself. "...I'm staying here..." Rain soaked the city as the dragon waited and the wolf ran.

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[Grimwyck]

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[atrb=background,http://i52.tinypic.com/4gi7n6.png] Vivian flicked both ears back as the rain began drumming on her head. Squinting through the foliage and the residue from a faery glamour, she continued on stubbornly, running despite her numb paws and screaming muscles. She didn't know why, but she needed to meet that dragon. Was this the feeling people got when they discovered a destiny? Maybe this was the feeling Harry Potter had when he was told he was a wizard. Dismissing these thoughts in favor of not running into the backside of a horse, Vivian slammed on her figurative brakes and spun out on the muddy ground. "J-Jeebus!" She barked loudly, standing with legs wide apart and head low. She looked up to see who the inconsiderate rider was, finding herself (sort of) face-to-face with a fiery-looking faery woman. Gaping, Vivian figured today was just going to be one of those days. The kind where somehow everything caught you off guard and left your usual stoic self in the dust to make like a large-mouth bass. "Wh-wh-wha..." The horse leaned down to look at the gaping wolf's ridiculously open maw. It snorted unhappily before going back to whatever it had been doing before. Almost directly after the horse had deemed her... whatever it had deemed her... the dragon atop the church spires shifted and called Vivian's attention to it. Do not panic, do not panic. Alphas don't panic. Happy place. Happy place. This seemed to be working until the pixie from before peeked out from behind the faery woman. It gasped cheerfully and flew animatedly over to Vivian's head, hugging her snout. "Ohmigod, I like totz though I'd never see you again! It was totally like the saddest thing EVER because you're like cool and stuff and yeah." With an overly dramatic sob, the faery clung tighter to the she-wolf's nose. "I never want to be away from like ever you again!" That turned out to be the straw that broke the camel's back. Vivian's legs gave out and she dropped unceremoniously onto her belly. Lying spread eagle, she angled her head to look tiredly at the horse and rider pair. "Hello, my name is Vivian Harkness. Might I ask who you are?" She figured if she was going to meet this many new people in one day, she might as well have names. You know, for credibility. And billing for therapy. However, at that moment, she felt it. The horrid chill she got when walking through a graveyard; that feeling of death. But fresh, and painful to her nose. It burned. She shivered violently and stared up at the hazel-colored dragon. It then clicked; why the dragon was headed toward the city, the sudden rain, the earlier reports of death. My god... that demon's a Scythe.

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[sorastro]

Tabiti stared down at the werewolf in front of her, slightly disgusted by the little creature that she had the shame to call her same basic species. She dismounted Sirin and knelt by the werewolf called Vivian Harkness. She'd have to deal with Vivian before she could deal with that rush of death from the dragon and what it meant. Where a Scythe was, there was certain to be someone from their opposing group. Not that it couldn't prove to be amusing for a time. Until it got annoying.

Sirin, on the other hand, seemed a little amused. Well, only a bit. Otherwise, extremely curious. She was too, so she completely understood. "Vivian?" Tabiti repeated, a bit pitying of the poor creature. "I am called Tabiti by some. My horse is called Sirin." She knelt by the poor creature and placed her hand upon her back, pushing healing magic into her body. "As you can obviously tell, I am one of the Fae. It would do you well to answer my questions honestly and clearly. But they can wait for the moment. You are a creature of air, and I of fire. Did you know that fire feeds of air? If there is no air, there is no fire. As a result, the fire respects the air and is grateful for it's constant supply of food and support."

That's absolutely bloody brilliant Tabiti! Let's confuse the poor werewolf from the first instant we meet her!

"Oh hush up, Sirin," sighed the Fae woman. "I'm already short on patience from Vivan's...friend and nothing is honestly stopping me from denying you sugar cubes for a week." The horse, smart as she was, understood it was no empty threat and snorted, lowering her head to graze upon the grass. Tabiti turned back to the werewolf and removed her hand, done healing her. "You have run hard and far, I'd suspect. Fast enough to leave your friend behind. He's clung onto me in the time intervening. I'm sure you're very happy to be together again at last.

"Now the dragon. You feel its power yes? Of course you can, anyone with a hint of your kind in them can. You know he or she is a Scythe. Now the question is-are you? I like to know which side I am taking by helping you."

Vivian though, seemed at a loss for words. Or just couldn't compose a reply in the short amount of time left for her to speak before the little creature fluttered in front of Tabiti's nose and snapped, "Leave her alone. She's totz tired, and stupid high Fae magic can't, like, help that!"

"Then give me a chance to 'like' help with that," snapped Tabiti right back. "Be grateful I haven't squished you. I honestly could and no one would think less of me. Father Papaeus and Mother Argimpasa have given me a genetic link to the higher court." The little pixie abruptly shut up and fluttered away. It wasn't smart to mess with genetically linked higher court members, even those who spent little time at court proper. "Are you planning on remaining in wolf form? I will not object either way. But a chosen form will help with the exhaustion. You had a few scrapes and I helped with that, but I cannot help exhaustion unless you decide on a form to take for the present."

Tabiti gave a smile she hoped was welcoming (not much practice with that sort of smile with Brother Siegmund or Sister Api, let alone with Father Papaeus or Mother Argimpasa) and untied the knot holding her skirts in front of her knees. It was a bother with full skirt on a horse, but it would be bearable searching for a dragon, considering it couldn't take too long. She instead transferred the twine to her hair and tied it away from her face. There was a bit of a silence.

"Is she like...asleep?" asked the little pixie. He seemed honestly worried, wringing his hands. Tabiti doubted it. It was likely from the pure rush of death that had struck them from the dragon. Pixies...didn't seem to register it.

"I'd think not. Ms. Harkness? Your answer?" Hopefully the werewolf was not in shock or something. Too much Fae magic too fast seemed to do that to people. And werewolves.

[Grimwyck]

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[atrb=background,http://i52.tinypic.com/4gi7n6.png] Vivian tried to force herself upward to at least attempt to look presentable in the presence of such a talented Fae. She had heard in passing of Tabiti, who was related closely to the higher Faery Court. While the Court tended to ignore the Nochoe werewolves, as alpha and in times of war, it did well to know your fellows in case of a sudden need for allies. The next thing this Tabiti did shocked the exhausted she-wolf. She had no doubt she looked pathetic; tired from trying to race a dragon, hopelessly lost in the Sol Forest, and now shocked into collapse by a strangely friendly Fae woman. But she had never in a million years thought that she would try to heal her. Fire wielders were known for their amazing abilities as healers, but was a pitiful mortal really worth her time? Apparently so. Gods, that hurts! Vivian let out a morose whimper as the Fae magic pushed through her nerves. When the initial pain ebbed away, a sore numbness coated her muscles. Green eyes wide in surprise, she flexed her front legs and pushed herself upward. She was still tired, but whatever muscles she hadn't realized she'd torn in her racing had been healed. Forcing herself to make her mouth work, she managed a hoarse "th-thank you." The wolf turned to the proud Fae with a look of sincere gratitude. Her pixie friend flew over again, hugging her ruff tightly. "I like for sure thought she had like totz hurt you or something!" Vivian rolled her eyes. Apparently, this pixie wasn't as bright as most. Or perhaps it had legitimate fear in what it said. After all, she knew, as alpha, that the lower wolves often got a sore lot in life. Maybe the same worked for pixies. Though, it sounded a smidgen far-fetched. Except that Tabiti had indeed snapped at the annoying bugger. "You've done enough," the she-alpha muttered. "Give me but a moment." She stood shakily and walked past the horse, called Sirin. Limp-trotting into the trees, she shifted into her human form with a soft groan. Shifting always hurt, even more so with high Fae magic still coursing through your veins. She looked around for one of the strategically placed rucksack stations she and her pack had put at the edge of every town. Her eyes landed on the brown backpack hanging from a tree limb and she smiled. After managing to get a button-down blouse and a pair of cargo pants from the bag, she walked shakily back to her new-found Faery companions. "Anyway. Thank you for waiting," she said in her lilting British accent. "I'm not with the dragon- well, not exactly. I was curious about it. I've never seen one; I've also never really met a high Fae," she bowed her head politely. She had seen the incredible effects of Fae healing magic and didn't relish feeling the effects of whatever other magic Tabiti had up her sleeves. "No, I'm trying to stay out of this bloody war. My loyalty is to the Formossima pack. "And as such, I felt it necessary to see what was going on in the city this dragon has stirred trouble in. Or perhaps they're trying to keep peace, but either way, it's garnered attention. I want to know what's going on and whether or not to be worried for my pack." "Woah," Valley-Girl said breathlessly. "That's like, so totally... awesome and stuff. You're like a total martyr." "I'm surprised you know such a large word." Vivian teased. Strange though it was, she was starting to find the pest a little endearing. "I'll catch up with you if you would like to continue onward. I'm afraid I'm still a tad fatigued." It was true, but she immediately felt bad for bringing it up. She didn't wish to trouble Tabiti, and the healing magic had been plenty help. She began walking at a brisk pace, wincing as her brain began shouting obscenities at her body, which was going along with this harebrained scheme.

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[sorastro]

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[atrb=background,http://i52.tinypic.com/ae65g3.png] Tabiti watched Vivian limp away, amused. "Come now, Vivian," she laughed. "You are most obviously hurt. I am curious as to why this Scythe has come to this tiny place and I helped you that you may answer. It would take too long to wait for you and I haven't much patience. Do you want help with your exhaustion or not?" Tabiti, you did manage to hurt her pretty badly with healing. Well, not hurt but... "No sarcasm?" this was directed at her horse. "You're always sarcastic." Sirin shrugged as much as a Faery steed could shrug, and trotted forward, cutting off Vivian. "I know you don't want to trouble me but it's no trouble at all. If I save my healing for those 'worthy' then who will I heal? A Faery? We can heal ourselves. Mortals are breakable but I am fond of your kind. Sirin will not let you pass without my permission, mind you." Vivian, who had been staring at the impressive mare, turned. She didn't look like she wanted to accept. "If Lady Tabiti wants to, like, heal you, it's totz better than limping like some...hobo," said Valley-Girl. Lady Tabiti? Hmm, that sounded nice. Not calling you that, though! And Sirin promptly put an end to that pleasant idea. I could help convince Vivian if you want! Well she sounded excited... "Go ahead," said Tabiti. Sirin reared and brought her hooves down hard, making Vivian jump out of the way in self-preservation. No doubt her body was furious at her for even thinking of doing such a thing. Tabiti caught her by the shoulders and poured just a drop of her energy into Vivian. That would get rid of the fatigue, but it might also make her body explode. Well, more likely the former! Amazing! You didn't kill this one! "Shut up, I'm better at this sort of thing than Brother Siegmund. He's killed many in his life from trying to help them." She knew she shouldn't be saying such things about him, but she couldn't resist rising to the bait of Sirin's sarcastic comment. "Brother?" breathed Valley-Girl. Fae siblings weren't common, especially when implied from the exact same genetic lineage. "Half-brother." The Pixie bowed his head and darted away. The longer Tabiti spent around him, the more fond of him she became. Perhaps she could petition those around her rank in the Fae Court to stop keep Pixies as pets. Poor souls...anyway. She was beginning to feel bad for snapping at him. "You needn't fear me. I wouldn't squish you, by the way. I just am a bit low on patience. Was grabbing me like that completely necessary on the ride here?" Valley-Girl blanched at the mention of his grip on the fine hair on the woman's neck while Sirin made her way there. He had thought he was being sneaky too! "I'm totz sorry!" "I told you, it's fine. Now Vivian, shall we off or do you need a moment?" She was pretty certain that she should be nice if she was going to have any help in figuring out why the dragon was there and especially after forcing Fae magic and energy into the poor mortal girl. Well, she'd survive.

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[Castanea]

Alexandra ran into the alleyway as fast as she could, vividly award that a fuming dragon was hot on her tail - determined to stop her.

"And this is why ghosts can teleport," she thought, smirking as the beast's claws sunk into the thin air where she'd been merely a moment before.

The teenaged ghost appeared exactly where she'd intended. Headquarters. Alexandra always felt a rush when walking around the vaulted cathedral, seeing the other, more experienced members of the Fleur. Even though she was only a lookout, when she was here she really felt like she was helping make a difference. She was saving countless people every day - people who would have had an unjust death, like her.

"But when are you going to get back?" a small voice in her mind asked, but Alexandra quickly shook it off. It wouldn't be much longer.

She strode, as well as a ghost could stride, into the Room. The Room was where you relayed any important messages to the higher-ups...and where you'd be called if you were premoted to a "Reviver". Anyone could become Reviver, they said, but only a chosen few would make it.

Alexandra quickly reported her sighting of that troublesome dragon Scythe, before exiting the Room.

"Wait one moment, Miss Popa," the ghost heard come from behind her. "Madam Fleur du Lis' has requested your presence for a few moments."

Alexandra froze. The Fleur du Lis'?

"I-" she began, unsure of wether she was extremely lucky, or extrememly unlucky.

"Hurry up, girl!" the vampire Reviver snapped impatiently. "The Fleur du Lis' hasn't got all day!"

Alexandra followed.