Ninth House | Official RP Thread

[idiot.exe]

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Hallways, at night — with Lenore and Vinnie’s boytoys

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Chadwick backed away, a grating, obnoxious laugh escaping his lips. “As you wish, dear,” he mocked.

The two had managed to provoke the woman to the point she’d stopped caring for manners. She’d yelled at them, cursing them out from anger and shock. Yet the reaction she was met with was not regret nor sorrow, rather just a careless laugh that undermined the importance of her words. But no matter how further they wanted to push her, after that she simply kneeled down, tuning them out.

Rolling his eyes, Bradford nudged the other’s shoulders, signaling to leave. He turned towards the woman, uttering his final words, “You should’ve asked us for help, you know. Now if you find he’s dead, you’ll be the one to blame,” he scoffed, his tone that of a child attempting to threaten another. Turning around, he placed a hand on Chadwick’s shoulder. “Come on, Chad.”

Nodding, Chadwick joined his friend and the two walked away, their footsteps echoing in the dim hallway. From the distance, faint fragments of their conversation could be heard, like “Do you think Vinnie will finally notice me?” or “Are you still mad we didn’t invite you to the weekly orgy?” Conversations kept confidential in the Umbra Coven, and for a good reason.

At a time like this Dominic could only wish he was unconscious, but his body still refused to let him rest. Slipping in and out of consciousness had made him dazed, with no sense of direction or time. But fragments of the conversation were enough to clue him in on what’s happening. While they carried him, he’d relaxed his body, steadying his breathing despite the stinging pain coming from all over. It was a torture on its own, to stay perfectly unmoving while every cell of his body wanted to cry out for help.

Now with their absence, a welcome silence filled the air. The woman’s voice was a stark contrast compared to the guys, gentle and soft like a comforting melody. Something about it felt so familiar. Cautiously, Dominic opened his eyes, two blurry images coming as one while his surroundings came to focus. He turned his eyes up to the source of the voice, but all he saw was a silhouette kneeling above him, a soft golden glow lining its shape.

Taking a sharp breath, he’d prepared to answer, but his throat tightened suddenly. His hands clenched into fists, body tensing as he coughed. Blood, residuals of the fight spilled over, a harsh reminder that it was far from over. Dominic locked eyes with the woman, bloodshot and glazed over, hoping he needed no words to convey the state he was in.

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@Caticorn ⋅𖥔⋅ Lenore Ferrell

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