Where There's Smoke RP

Closed RP between Brigid and Erinys Draconis

Though her memories of her childhood seemed to be growing less and less clear, Abigail McCormac still remembered going to church with her family. She couldn’t even remember what denomination her family belonged to, but she did remember sermons where the pastor would pontificate at length on the nature of Hell. That memory had become increasingly bitter to her, because she was now fairly certain she understood what Hell truly was.

Hell was being left alone with your own thoughts.

She had lost track of how long she’d been left in her cell. Aside from a tray of food being periodically slid through a panel in the door, she had no evidence that there was another living soul anywhere in this facility. There was nothing for her to do but lie in the bunk and try futilely to repress the memories of all that she’d done. So many had died at her hand, and the fact that none of them had been by her own will provided little comfort. Every time she closed her eyes, whether asleep or awake, she could see their faces, and hear their screams as her powers burned them alive.

She supposed she deserved this torment. Nevertheless, when the door to her cell inexplicably slid open, she hesitated for the barest of moments before darting through it. She had no idea what was going on; the level seemed to be bereft of any guards or other prisoners. She could hear yelling, gunshots, and what sounded like explosions above her, and she made a point of not going that way; the last thing she needed was more blood on her hands.

At one point, she turned a corner only to come face-to-face with a pair of guards. The one raised his weapon, but his partner quickly grabbed his weapon and pushed it away, hissing “no, you idiot, that’s her” between clenched teeth. The two of them then just stood there and warily watched Abby as she stumbled past them. She wandered through the labyrinthine complex for what seemed like an eternity before miraculously finding herself outside, on the shores of Alcatraz Island, the lights of the city of San Francisco twinkling obliviously across the bay.

She had no idea how it was that the battered little rowboat had found itself stuck in the rocks on the shore of the island (probably some careless fisherman, though how it was not noticed by the guard boats patrolling the waters was another matter), but she wasted no time in using her desperately flagging strength to push it free and wearily begin using a tree branch to haphazardly paddle it in the direction of the city.

Dawn was peeking over the horizon when she beached the dilapidated craft in a small, deserted-looking cove on the mainland and staggered out, dropping to her back in exhaustion, her glazed, emerald eyes staring at the brightening sky. She was free; she had escaped her prison and her demonic captor, whose attention must have been dominated by whatever the ruckus back in the cell blocks had been. She had no home to run to, and no friends she could approach for help, however. The only sliver of hope she had was of a memory, a memory of a crimson-haired woman, not much older than she, who had somehow managed to resist the demon’s power and escape his clutches. If Abby could somehow find her, maybe she could help, show her how to keep the monster out of her mind. It was a long, desperate shot, but it was the only one she had.

Brigid sat cross-legged on the floor of her hotel room in San Francisco, eyes covered in purple eyeshadow, thick, black liner overtop her full and long eyelashes, her red lips hanging slightly open. Her long red hair was pulled back into a ponytail with soft curls falling to frame her face. She wore a long sleeved forest green tunic dress to her mid thigh with a brown leather belt across her hips and matching brown, suede, heeled boots. The curtains were drawn, casting the room into a false night with burning candles littered around; atop tables, the mini fridge and floor. Eyes closed, she was in trance state as she sought Him out.

For months she had hid, training, learning, strengthening herself and becoming more adept with her powers. Communicating with ancestors and the strongest of them all, she learnt to drawn upon and use the well of power within and around her. Confident in her abilities and refusing to ever cower in fear of It's presence or attentions again, she sought out the demon who had tormented her. She had followed his presence to San Francisco and found him in a prison. Casting strong protection magicks upon herself, she projected her astral form into the prison. Curious, she watched the calamity of the riot from above until her attention was drawn elsewhere.

The girl...

Brigid immediately recognized the redheaded woman running through the corridors. In her last encounter with It, he had inhabited her body. She watched her get away in amazement, the demon's attention were obviously focused elsewhere. Admiring her tenacity and determination to escape, she followed her out of the prison and onto the shores of the city. Lowering herself, she landed next to her exhausted frame and realized the great opportunity that had presented itself to her. Manifesting her projection into a visible form, she allowed for the girl to be able to communicate with and see her.

"Well, it seems I'll finally have the pleasure of getting to meet the real you."

"Well, it seems I'll finally have the pleasure of getting to meet the real you."

Abby gasped, attempting to sit up, but her exhausted body refused to respond, and she managed little more than a slight raising of her head. Oh God, I’m hallucinating… or has that thing found me again? This voice, however, sounded much different from the inhuman monster. This was definitely a female voice, and one that was somehow familiar.

Painfully trying to focus, she managed to make out the projection standing next to her prone form. When she recognized the image of the woman who had managed to override the demon’s control and escape his clutches, she could have either laugher or cried, if she’d had the energy.

“You… found me…” she managed weakly, lowering her head to the ground and closing her eyes as she fought to remain conscious.

Brigid frowned. The girl was clearly malnourished and sickly. Waving her hand, Abby began to hover slightly above the ground, ensconced in a red light. Back in the hotel room, Brigid opened her completely black covered eyes. The burning candles snuffed out all at once as a red light began to appear atop the bed. Standing, she sat on the side of the bed as Abby's frame began to appear.

"You need rest. And food. Don't worry, you're safe here." She said, wiping the brow of the young girl.

He must of ran you to the ground...

She thought as she stood and picked up the phone in the hotel room. She ordered room service as the candles began to float towards a black bag and pack themselves away. The curtains opened with a wave of Brigid's hand, allowing the morning sun to stream inside.

The sudden shift from the cold shore of the San Francisco Bay to the comfort of a hotel bed was momentarily disorienting. There was also a time that it would have been downright terrifying, but ever since Abby’s powers had awakened, she had experienced some truly weird things, so she was able to take it in stride, and even offered Brigid a weak smile.

Safe. She said I’m safe. Do I even know what that is?

“Thank you,” she finally managed, her voice hoarse and a little squeaky. “I’m Abby. We, uhh, kinda met once before, in a different hotel.”

Brigid smiled warmly at Abby as she walked over to her suitcase and unzipped it.

"So we have. My name is Brigid. I'm glad to see you were able to get away from It."Her distaste for the demon was clear in her tone of voice while referring to him. "How long have you been his puppet?" She asked as she withdrew bags with various herbs and bottles with colourful liquids, placing them on the vanity table by the wall. Returning to her suitcase, she withdrew a large, worn, black leather-bound tome and began to flip through pages near the end, looking for a potion that would help Abby regain strength. The girl needed rest, but Brigid needed answers.

Abby shuddered slightly as Brigid mentioned the demon. “I… don’t know, really. It’s been awhile… months, maybe? Your senses get so muddled when it has control.” Her gaze swept over the accoutrements that Bri was working with. “I remember that he took me to somewhere in South America. There was a war… he made me kill a lot of people.” Tears started welling up in the corners of her eyes.

Brigid stopped mixing vials and herbs as she heard the tremble in Abby's voice. Turning from the vanity, she returned to Abby's side and sat at the bed, taking her hand into her own. "No, he didn't make you do anything. He killed those people Abby, not you." She said as she stared into Abby's eyes. "And he won't be able to use you again." Her eyes shone with determination as they heard a knock on the door, signalling the arrival of the food.

Abby feebly squeezed Brigid’s hand, her sad, emerald eyes looking up into the other woman’s. “They weren’t the first ones, though. I can’t control my power; it killed my entire family.” Abby stiffened slightly, inhaling sharply as the knock sounded on the door, before remembering that Brigid has called for food.

As the scent of breakfast filled the air, Abby seemed to recover some. Though she had been fed in the prison, it hadn’t been particularly good food, and her flight from Alcatraz had sapped her energy completely. “Thank you for helping me,” she said softly, as the door was closed again. “I was afraid that, once you realized that I was connected to that thing, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”

Brigid carried a plate of eggs, bacon, taters and fruit to Abby, placing it on the end table by the bed. "He doesn't usually give people a choice when taking over their bodies. I can hardly hold that against you." She said as she returned to her vials and finished her concoction. Taking the glass of orange juice, she poured it inside and handed it to Abby. "Here, this should help a bit. You're going to need your strength. I can't keep you this close to him for too long." She said, sitting opposite of Abby. "As for you family, I'm sorry to hear that. It must have been hard to deal with. Your powers are unique. I remember hearing about them briefly when last I met with It. We can work on them though. I'm not very easy to harm with fire."

Abby listened intently as she devoured the offered food. Between that and whatever it was that Brigid had added to the juice, she was feeling much better; in fact, she was fairly confident that she’d at least be able to get up and move by her own power, again. She did her best to ignore the sick feeling that another mention of it caused her.

“I’ll do whatever you say,” she said with a nod, putting down the empty glass. It felt good, finally being able to have some say in what she did. “Whatever that was you gave me, it worked. I should be able to move, now.” She cocked her head slightly as she regarded the other woman. “So, are you some kind of wizard or something? I’m guessing that wasn’t an energy shot you put in my drink.”

Brigid studied Abby silently for a few moments.

"I want to make it clear that you do not owe me your allegiance. In fact, I won't accept it. I want to help you with your powers because I know how frightening in can be to lose control and hurt people. I want to protect you from it not only for your benefit but for mine. Taking you away from him is my taking a stance against him. Helping you benefits me as much as it has already benefitted you. You do not owe me anything for doing something that is self-serving even it also benefits you."

Brigid calmly raised herself from the edge of the bed. "Witch is also more accurate. The concoction was no more than some herbs meant to revitalize you. We'll need to move somewhere more secure now that you've been removed from his grasp. I am sure that he won't be particularly pleased. How do you feel about the east coast?" She queried as she moved to pack her things.

Abby leaned back, preserving her returning strength, as she listened to Brigid. “Well, I’m still grateful that you helped me, whatever your reasons,” she said genuinely. “You’re the first person whose self-interests don’t involve sedating me, possessing me, or using me as a human flame-thrower.”

“The East Coast sounds great,” she said with a nervous chuckle. “Sounds wonderfully not here.” Her youthful yet troubled face grew serious. “Look, I know you said I don’t owe you anything, but I want to help you. I don’t know anything about magic or demons and such, but the thing...it was super arrogant. It didn’t guard its own thoughts very carefully while it was in mine, and I’ll occasionally get little flashes of its intentions, and what it’s planning.”

Brigid kept her face composed as Abby revealed her foray into the thoughts of it."We're going to need to work on your trust a bit dear. And I'm assuming you have no forms of identification? We'll need to get that sorted out too." Brigid finished packing her herbs and potions into what appeared to be a small suitcase. Reaching under the bed, she pulled out an alternate small bag and placed it on top of the suitcase. "Sharing his mind... I can't imagine what that would have been like." She turned to face Abby, her eyes locking onto hers. "So, what is it planning?"

Abby let out a long breath as she pondered Brigid’s questions. The answer to the first one was simple, at least. “No, I’m afraid I don’t have any ID. Prior to that thing…taking me, I was kept in a bunch of hospitals. While I was possessed, well, the thing would just make people do what it wanted; I didn’t need anything.”

Abby shuddered slightly as she thought back to having the demon in her mind. She reached out and grabbed one of the pillows, hugging it to her chest and drawing her knees up as she began to hesitatingly speak. “It…wants to hurt people. It only seemed happy when it was surrounded by pain and fear such. When it took me to Venezuela, I don’t think it cared at all about what the fighting was for, or who won. It just wanted to use my powers to make people suffer.” Her voice had started to falter, and tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. “It…it was like it fed on their suffering. I could feel it, too. The people I killed…they were inside my mind as they died. They were scared, in pain…I can still see the faces of their families…it was the last thing a lot of them thought of before they…” she choked back a sob at this point, burying her face in the pillow.

Brigid's jaw clenched as she remembered the words it had uttered to her. How gleeful it seemed at the thought of using her in the same way. Her eyes looked at the poor, broken shell of a girl in front of her and was grateful she had escaped the same fate.

"Abby..." Brigid slowly walked over to her, placing her hand on her shoulder. "I know you've probably seen your fair share of horror and felt it because of that thing as well. So you know better than anyone that we need to stop it. I'm going to need you to be strong here and realize that those memories, the guilt, the pain, the suffering... They're just details, Abby. Details about it. And while you may have experienced them, you are not responsible for them. They put you, however, in a unique position. One that can enable you to assist in it's destruction." Brigid grabbed the tissues from the side table behind her and placed it in front of Abby. "Now, I'm not sure how much longer that distraction is really going to last... and I'd rather be more prepared for confrontation with it than I am now. So we really should get going. Feeling up to travel?"

Instinctively, Abby reached up and squeezed the other woman's hand as she laid it on her shoulder. Taking the proffered tissues, she dried her eyes as she considered Brigid's words. "Thank you...and I'll do whatever I can to help you." It would feel good, if entirely unfamiliar, to actually be helping someone instead of needing help, although she probably wasn;t yet out of the woods, in that regard. Nodding in answer to her benefactor's question, she slowly stood, stretching. "Yes. That potion of yours really was magical. I feel much better." Glancing down at the ruin of her clothing, she once more looked at Brigid and asked, a bit sheepishly, "umm...I don't suppose you have anything I could wear, do you? I kinda look like...well, like I just escaped from prison."