The Nightmare of Hallowton(Open)

[sebastian]

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The Persian-red singing [voice] slowly
dyes your chest the same [color]
[as if

[/color]] it's an eternally yearning
swiftly dispersing...
[Melody[/color]][/size]

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Something wasn't right, that was the main thing crossing his mind as he gazed out of a window within the Hellsing Manor at the darkness of early morning. The first traces of the sunrise could be seen on the horizon, he was waiting for the clock to strike five; so that he could bring Integra her usual morning tea. But ever since Integra had turned in the night before, he'd felt a suspicious nagging at the back of his head; some anxiety that something bad was coming. It was a foreboding he couldn't ignore. He had of course, doubled how often he patrolled the estate that evening, expecting some sort of attack; but everything was silent... Eerily and unnaturally silent... And it was unnerving him. That was something which didn't happen to him often. Not to mention that episode of sudden dizziness earlier that evening, that feeling of being ill; as if he'd taken in a particularly rancid soul.



The demon jumped slightly as a grandfather clock began to announce the hour, 5 deep toned gongs. Sebastian mentally rebuked himself for being so jumpy, this was unlike him. He took the intricate silver platter from a nearby table, loaded with a cup of freshly brewed tea, a newspaper, and a cigar for his master. He would make his way upstairs to her room, nothing was out of the ordinary. But then why...? Why did he feel so horrible? It had been a week since his return from engaging that demon child, and the wound across his chest had been reduced to a mere scar; barely visible. But it hurt now... Burned rather strongly, which also concerned him; as it had stopped hurting on day 3 after the encounter. Integra hadn't been happy with his failure to end Legion; but he had protected the Resistance at least. And the mention of that Gabrielle had proved to be something Integra had wanted to know. He figured that it was that piece of information which had spared him from a backhand or two due to his failure.

The demon sighed as he reached the floor on which Integra's room was located, and he quickly made his way to the door. He raised a gloved hand to knock lightly on the door. "My lord, I bring you your morning tea and newspaper." He called softly, awaiting permission to enter.

But no such invitation came...

A chill shot up his spine. Integra was always up by now, and admitted him into her room the moment he knocked. So why was it so silent? Was she still asleep by any chance? He opened the door and entered, setting the platter on her bedside table and looking down at the figure in the bed; still tangled in blankets. But there was a problem... He heard no breathing, and he heard no heartbeat. "M... Master...?" He stammered, also unlike him, as he leaned over the bed, pulling the sheets back. He pulled his gloves from his hands, noticing that the Faustian mark on his hand looked dull and wasn't emitting its glow. Integra was cold as ice as he held the back of one trembling hand to her pale face.



Everything was slipping away from him... He could feel himself stiffening in fury, that beast within howling for blood. But there was one more test... His head dipped toward her face, silky black locks brushing against the woman's face as his lips came to be mere inches away from her. He breathed in her scent, searching for that smell of a healthy, living soul... And found no evidence of it... He straightened up again, trembling violently all over as the platter fell to the floor with a loud clang as he stood up sharply, spilling tea in all directions when his clenched fist sent it crashing to the carpet. Integra was empty. Her soul had gone. Somehow, that tantalizing soul which so intrigued and frenzied him had passed from her body overnight. Perhaps a sudden heart attack had killed her? He didn't know, and he didn't care. Already, dark clouds were rolling off his frame, tinged with green smog. It took a great deal of effort to not go into his true form right then. Due to the burning of his chest injury, he doubted it was safe to take to that form; his own soul was still too damaged.

The sound of splintering glass would shatter the cool night air as it exploded outward with the force of a small detonation in the face of his fury. He sprang through that opening, coming to land unsteadily on the immaculate grounds of the estate, his mind reeling with thoughts as he stumbled a few steps forward. A moment later, the black clad demon has sunk to his knees on the ground, his arms limp by his sides as he glared at the ground; the shadows still spreading rapidly around him. His master... Yet another one... Gone... Just like that... A savage smile began to curl his lips as his eyes began to shift colors. How amusing... Fate really was cruel and merciless. It wanted nothing more than to make him suffer. First an eternal contract with his former master... And now... Another lost soul which he had so desired...



A quake began to shift the ground as it split beneath where he was slumped, spreading out around him rapidly and splitting off into smaller cracks. Even the walls of the manor itself began to shudder and break apart as the earthquake grew. broken glass began to shower down on the well-kept grounds, bits of the magnificent building falling to pieces. He didn't care that there were lives in there, that there were freaks in the basement which would be experiencing the start of a cave-in. The building which served as the refugee quarters was already collapsing, screams would rip through the early morning as the refugees continued to swarm out of their home and fleeing across the shifting earth, many stumbling as they struggled to process what disaster was striking them now. The single lone figure on the other side of the manor remained unnoticed.



A blinding white light would suddenly spread from in front of the manor, a sphere of some unknown energy which would swallow the entire estate, manor and grounds. A massive explosion ensued, shaking the earth and air alike as the manor finally began to crumble in on itself. As the light faded, the dark figure could be seen moving toward the city itself; shadows continuing to rise around him, interlaced with that odd green aura. No longer smiling, only the eyes gleamed against the backdrop of darkness; lit up in uncontrolled fury and despair, hungry and merciless, full of a lust for bloodshed. He couldn't take to his true form though... In a distant corner of his crazed mind, he knew that. So he would vent his rage another way... This entire city was insignificant, worthless, a feeding ground for all a manner of foul beings. Now, it would become a point of entertainment for him...



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As afternoon approached, he would find himself standing in a darkened alleyway, no longer encased in the opaque shadows. He had calmed down some, but that fury was still seething in his gut as many creatures crawled before him. Fleas, ticks, mosquitoes and other insects, rats, birds, and even dogs and cats. As they traveled through the alleyway, apparently called by some unknown force, they would breath in the tainted air of that one alleyway. They shuddered in the face of those fuschia eyes, even those creatures which lacked a brain. They would be the carriers... As they traveled around the city; insects would feed and pass along the pathogens, mammals and birds would breath out that tainted air. In particular, crows had flocked into the alleyway, answering the call of their demonic superior. They they would breathe in those pathogens and have the soft feathers saturated in the tainted air. They would serve as a very useful carrier...

Then the carriers would die within a few days. Carbon Dioxide, carrying traces of the illness pollutant, which was exhaled by living or released from decaying corpses, would be taken in by plants. Plants would shrivel and die, greenery would fade entirely as the pathogen spread, turning Hallowton into a wasteland. Then as they decomposed, those tainted traces would be amplified, and breathed in by mortals. Simply touching a pet would risk a mortal being tainted as well, due to pollutant being present on fur. As animals drank from water sources, those would also become tainted. In the end, his disease would be spread by water, air, and touch... Exactly what he wanted. Even from this very alleyway, the pathogens would diffuse across the atmosphere and spread through the city; which would aid in an even faster extension of the Plague.



No, it wasn't the same as the Black Plague he had set off once before. It was an illness which would spread faster, and it was more deadly. Those infected would experience agony in their lungs or stomach first, and break out in nasty and painful boils which would burst at the slightest touch or on their own as they were filled with too much fluid. Breathing would be difficult, their chest would feel as it it were caving in on itself as their very cells began to rupture during mitosis which naturally occurred to cause scabbing of broken skin; disrupting the essential cycle. The skin would continue to be affected, at a fast rate. It was a gruesome, very painful death, which could begin a few hours to a month after exposure; depending on the strength of one's immune system. Their organs would literally collapse or dissolve as their cell structure was attacked and dissolved by the 0.17 μm (micrometers) long and 0.06 μm in diameter organisms. It would take a powerful microscope to see the highly resistant and quick working bacteria; the bacteria was was releasing to the carries. It was much like an out of control cancerous growth, all over the skin; only the growth collapsed and mutated the skin as the cells ruptured.

Finished with the start of the Plague, the vengeful demon sprang lightly up onto a roof; and glared into the now-rising sun. It was mocking him... Laughing at his loss... He swore he could see eyes on the blinding orb of light as it roared in laughter at him. But no matter... Soon... As the airborne part of his pollutant diffused and filled the atmosphere, the sun would be blocked by a thick layer of green tinged dark storm clouds; clouds which would shed acid rain with a pH of 4.2, rain tainted by the waste products and fluid which served as cytoplasm in the said bacteria. And then... He would be the one laughing. The demon sprang from roof to roof as he made his way toward the castle. There was a nice vantage point he could stand on, a tower rising above the rest of the castle. From there, he would watch as the city slowly died over the next few days. He would start to stroll through the city in a short while, act as if he were still Hellsing's butler, and try to 'lend a hand'. His reputation would protect him from suspicion of being the cause of this plague, for a while at least. Fate had made him lose everything, now he would make these unfortunate souls lose everything as well. Well... Both unfortunate, and insulting souls... Souls which weren't quality enough for him at all to satisfy his hunger...



((Posts following this one will begin a day after these events, when people start to fall ill.))

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]________________________________
In the [stillness] of the shining sky
is your [home] of return
Beyond the [darkness[/color]][/size]

Thoughts ► "That soul... That soul I so longed for..."
Feelings ► Enraged

[/size][/justify]
Where the [moon sinks[/color]][/size]
is a narrow [path[/color]] that leads you[/size]

Muse ► Great!
Tags ► Hallowton
Notes ► Anyone mortal is susceptible to getting the illness. Immortals are unaffected, but anything which can die is vulnerable; unless they have some form of protection, and some species are more susceptible than others. It depends on the physical tolerance of the species.
Music ► Si Deus Me Relinquit
Credits ► Aurion!

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]
Back to the [beginning[/color]][/size]
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[Byakko Furaribi]

Neko had long lost the ability to cry. Hours ago in this back alley she had let out her last sound, a whispered cry. Even Questas was silent as it watched its master die. Now Neko was left in her silent agony that was beginning to fade. Her hand caught on a panicked passer-bys pantleg. The figure shrieked and continued running. Neko hand wasn't the only thing that broke. Coughing a wet sounding wheeze she wept tears of red. She cried not for herself, as she felt no more pain. It was those she watched from her alley she wept for, and her blade who would now never be freed. The blade had shown some care. As she began to fade she found enough of her voice for a final request. "Sing..." And so the heartless demon blade sang a sad but beautiful melody, a song in the demons language. A song of loss and rebirth and how the end is but truly another beginning. And then the blade fell silent. In the center of a dying land, in the hand of a dead girl, Questas waited. Alone.

[Ira]

Something tainted the air. Something foul. Something devious. Something nasty and atrocious. It smelled like death coming. Smog, disgusting. Death. A wave of it through the Force. Something absolutely chilling to the bone for the healer. Wakanda placed a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes. She was not the greatest at the breath control, she could go maybe a day with it if she was careful. She did not realize it was probably too late already, but it was worth a shot. But it was always so uncomfortable to do, so unnatural.

A faint blue skin formed tightly around Wakanda's skin, even over her air ways, sealed more tightly than usual; it was needed. Holding her breath and a moments of focus, Wakanda was still. Controlling one's breath meant making everything last a long while. But if she was going to help people like she intended to do, she might last a couple of hours with the breath control. Others could last days with breath control, the most she had seen was three - crazy people.

Her chest became still, there was no more breathing. Perhaps people at first would think she was undead, but she was alive as ever. Wakanda marched on, her force aura reaching out and searching for those who needed help. And the first she came across, seemed to already be gone. One she had briefly met not too long ago.

Wakanda approached Neko, looking her over, attempting to feel if there was any hope to potentially help this one recover.

No. Nothing. She was gone. Wakanda stood over Neko for a moment before kneeling down beside her. Silent prayers she had been taught from home long ago being given, followed by one any Jedi would give; "Death, yet the Force." Again though, silent, the lack of passing air would not allow for sound to be made at all. And this much, Wakanda knew. - Something she had learned long ago when she had to put that waterproof casing of her light saber to good use.

She set to moving to collect Neko's body, at least she deserved a bit better than simply being left here. However, that sword remained there. It wouldn't be right to leave that either if it belonged to Neko, like she thought it did considering seeing her earlier with it. Carefully, Wakanda gathered up Neko's body and used the Force to pull the sword along, allowing it to hover behind her as she walked. Not like she honestly wanted to touch it right now anyway. That thing looked like a Sith would be more interested than she would be considering it looked like the exact opposite of her saber.

As she walked with the girl in her arms though, she attempted to read through her body with the Force, attempting to feel for potential causes of death which had struck the body. It was the least she could do while transporting the body to the hospital or something like that. Wherever the hospital was. Curse her not knowing this place.

[Byakko Furaribi]

Questas stirred in the blade. It had been preparing as similar blades did to sleep eternally until disturbed but that time had come early. So instead the demon blade studied who had disturbed. It recognized the girl from earlier but had neglected to pay attention to that useless conversation of his last wielder. unfortunately.

"Why do you disturb me?" It spoke to the girl in a calm quiet voice, smooth as silk and dangerous as a nested snake.

[Cap'n Failz]

He had felt it, starting a handful of days ago. A great force of rage, such that it was nearly palpable, easily making itself apparent even during a meditative trance. The curiosity of it had pulled Revan from his meditation, and he had risen to study it, but after a time dismissed it.

Then the fluctuations in lifesigns had begun later that same day. Deaths began later that night; at first the sick and the elderly, those without much time left to live as it was. He could feel the lifesigns blinking out one by one across the city, and almost at once he knew what it was. And he had taken guard against it, resorting to a number of techniques to keep himself safe -- as safe as he could, at any rate -- from the unknown disease.

A swift combination of a Protection Bubble and Breath Control would ensure he had enough air to last him for days, perhaps even weeks at a time. A single breath would sustain him for countless hours, perhaps even days, if he managed his strength, and with the clean, unpolluted air within his protection bubble, he would have several more breaths to draw upon when one finally spent itself.

So it was that he went into the city itself.

There was....an ill feeling about the city. Like a vile cloud of evil choking the purity out of the air. He was thankful for his foresight in preparing his clean air -- he would need it.

It would take steel or rot to turn away from this situation without a care. And while one might argue Revan had both in equal quantity, he would not turn away. Evil some might call him -- heartless, even -- but he was not so black-hearted he would scoff at such suffering and refuse to lend aid when he was fully capable of it.

Such was why he was now slowly pacing down the streets of Hallowton, his aid going unseen and unthanked to those whom he passed in greatest need of it. He was far from a dedicated healer, and so his aid was perhaps not as great as it might have been, but such was his lot. A warrior and leader of battle was he, and here it showed. But if all he could do was ease the passing of those too far gone to be saved....then such he would do.

And in each case, he would carefully search over the body with the Force, looking for the signs of what had caused the death to begin with. He had no hope of coming up with a cure himself. Had he had the resources of the Star Forge, he might have done so in a matter of days, but without them, it was a hopeless endeavor. But there were supposedly much greater minds than his in the fields that would be of use in such a matter as a cure here in Hallowton. Perhaps....if they did not die of the disease themselves, they would be of use in such an endeavor.

Slowly, he stood to his feet, rising from having eased the passing of dying young man. He had removed his mask, offering at the least a friendly smile in addition to the mental words of assurance that all would be fine. The harsh yellow of the Sith was in his eyes, and his skin was the deathly pale of one who had fallen deeply to the Dark Side, but his veins did not glow black with evil as most those who fell to the dark side did. He retained something of the warmth and humanity of the lightside. For a moment, he stared around the city with his face free of its mask, then shook his head sadly, turning on one heel and replacing the intimidating piece of Mandalorian iron over his face, walking away to continue his work.

As much as it pained him, the body was left where it lay. He had not the time to attend to each and every corpse left by this plague, lest he spend all day digging graves and no time searching for what actual aid he might give.

[Ira]

Who was it who spoke? Wakanda looked around until her eyes fell on the sword. Really? Really. It had looked through the Force to be a strong artifact of sorts. Now it spoke. Oh jeeze. Just her day. And here she had been the one scolding padawans for playing with potentially dangerous artifacts. Awesome. If she could offer a sigh, she would have done so. However, Wakanda remained silent. A ripple in the force though spoke for her;

'I mean no to bother you. But I simply wanted to take you with her. You were en her possesshin. I figure, et at least thing I could do for her.'

However, Wakanda paused. Something pulling her attention away. A feeling she knew rather well from her daughter. Her stomach twisted into knots immediately. The Dark Side. A user of it was near by. Curse her luck. Here she was thinking they wouldn't be here somehow. Maybe at least, they were willing to help her. Doubtful. Very doubtful considering past experiences. Extremely even.

She was torn though. She had gathered what she required from the girl, honestly, things worked on the cells, respiratory issues plagued them, the skin itself had suffered a great deal from boils, and the cells themselves had actually come under attack. All easy enough for the healer to feel through the Force. Now was just a matter of using the Force to counter act it as she did with Force Plagues. She could leave the girl behind to see if potentially this was a Sith's doing. Or to maybe somehow gain their help. But leaving the body there could make things worse. That was why they needed to be collected.

Again, if she could have, the togruta would have sighed. She hurried off with the body in her arms still. The jingle and jangle from her bracelets and anklets gave her away quite quickly as she hurried along. She turned the corner and there he stood. A figure from the past, from dark times of the Older Republic. A hero to some and nightmare to others, long thought dead and lost. Wakanda stared wide-eyed towards Darth Revan for but a moment. But finally, she found her words again through the Force.

'Are you willing to help?' It was the only thing she could think to say. honestly.

[Silver Eyes]

Looks like she picked a good time to stop drinking human blood because it was so rancid. The smell, even the thought of the taste, made Elizabeth's stomach churn in absolute disgust. It was likened to that of a good glass of milk molding, hardening and expelling that foul odor so many humans knew well. What was once a fine bouquet had been tarnished. It made her feel sick. Everywhere she went, she wore a mask to dumb down the taint, and it was tolerable for the time being.

There was something unnatural about what had descended on this town. Like a thief in the night, it came, inflicted its damage, and whisked away all manner of health in the mortal population. Elizabeth's nose wiggled behind the mask--the sudden urge to itch it came on strong, but she worried she'll feel uncomfortable again should she somehow inhale. Breathing wasn't necessary to live, but to be aware of her surroundings, it had become an obnoxious habit.

She scratched the back of her head whilst standing in the middle of the main road. This really made no sense. People were starting to drop like flies. Elizabeth had never encountered sickness before since there was an absence of it in Paradise. There were books, plenty of them, about what attacked mortal bodies, and she found them to be fascinating.

Seeing it in person was a different matter.

Not that she cared. It was mere curiosity and puzzlement that drew her out of hiding. Sparda will want her to investigate, or at least that was the assumption. But how would one go about figuring something like this out?

[Cap'n Failz]

He moved quickly, though he could not have said why. How quickly he worked had likely very little actual bearing on his course of action. He was only just now developing a clear picture of the symptoms and likely cause of death of this plague. Within another day or so, at his current pace, he might work out a way to slow or treat it, should he keep on his current pace. A few more days and he might even be able to devise a way to cure it entirely on his own. Though on his own he would be of very little use, not being able to cure it quickly enough to matter.

Plus with it still circulating any cure would be next to useless.

He slowed his pace somewhat when he sensed another presence within the Force. One that was not only not dying, but which seemed to be another user of the Force. It even seemed they were aware of him as well. And they were quite thoroughly aligned with the Light Side. A Jedi....wonderful. With any luck they would not be so self-righteous as to attack on sight as some he had met would do.

It would be a tragic to have to spill blood that might otherwise be of use.

When they came into view, he merely slowly came to a halt, looking her over. He could feel the surprise in her mind. He suspected it was due to his supposed "death", and sudden vanishing. Under his mask, he smirked mildly in amusement, but pushed it aside. The question was met with a simple response.

"That is why I am here."

[lunacat16]

It had been just a day ago when Kaworu noticed that something was wrong. Other than the short-term disasters, something had just begun to feel off about the entire town. The ominous clouds hung over the sky, bringing rain that stung the eyes and irritated the skin, if one stood out for too long. Having not known what the rain on Genesis was like, he at first had assumed that the downpour's qualities might have been typical.

But the clouds wouldn't go away, and neither would that anxious, awful worm at the back of his mind. This just wasn't right. Even the locals looked frightened by this rain; if it was a usual occurrence there would be a different response. No, there was something more involved. He did not know what it might be, or the cause, but there was something more to the climate than a chance happening.

The answer became clear the next morning. He was sitting on a stone bench when suddenly he spied a small animal out of the corner of his eye. The creature, a stray and rather mangy-looking cat, seemed to have also become aware of him, as it skittered away, presumably heading towards one of the alleys. He had followed the cat mostly out of curiosity, and concern for its well-being.

It was probably fortunate that the cat had not gotten far, for if it had gone int othe alley the taint would have been definite. Instead, Kaworu found the stray lying down right by the entrance. It wasn't breathing. Upon closer examination the mange was actually a kaleidoscope of sores and lesions. A small trickle of blood was leaking from its mouth. The Angel balked at the sight as any being with a heart would. However, this was merely a rude awakening to what had begun.

The sickness would become a less than welcome sight to him. Those that didn't have a household or a trained doctor to go to were left out on the streets. The bodies just kept piling up. In a cruel twist, many of their faces were contorted with relief; these men and women were probably glad when Death finally came for them. Of course, just as many were left with agony etched into their corpses. To them Death was unexpected and sudden.

Perhaps the instant the boy saw one of the victims coughing his AT Field went up. In a state of panic he blocked almost any particle from coming in, with the exception of oxygen, carbon dioxide, and nitrogen. By extension things of that size or smaller could pass through.He could do much more; in his descent to the core of NERV he had created a pseudo-dimension of his own by blocking out any sort of particle or wave at all. Unfortunately, keeping that up for an extende dperiod of time would only make him feel drained.

He had many doubts about whether he was truly safe from the plague. If it travelled by air, air he had been breathing for days, then the chance that he was tainted was...greater than any person would have liked. However, he was not human. If his AT Field was not deployed then it was inside him. There was a reason he had never gotten sick as a child. His body may have been that of a human, but that was all a vessel. In every other respect he was Adam, the progenitor of Angels, reborn. Any sort of infection would be delayed at the least. Destroyed? Probably not.

Alone in his thoughts, he had sat down on the stairs leading up to the entrance of a now empty building. Whoever the previous owners were, they were dead now. He honestly looked like a bit of a mess. His shirt wasn't tucked in properly, and it was partially unbuttoned. Thankfully he had an orange t-shirt under it. Stress did things to people, even Angels. He couldn't just die like this, rattling out his last breath alone and diseased! What about the people he had met? Who would help Shinji if he came here?

Although, given the plague and all, most people would not want to go near a distressed-looking person, those that tried would not get too far anyways. While Kaworu would gladly lower his Field to hel psomeone in need (for such was the way of the kind martyr), he had currently been given no reaso nto do so. At about three feet from him any person trying to get close would be stopped by the usually invisible barrier.

He would get up in a few minutes and try and survey the situation. He did want to help; unfortunately he just had no idea how. The whole situation felt doomed to him. At least before he was able to help a large population of people (the whole world, to be specific), albeit through not being o nthat world anymore. But here there was no heroic sacrifice to be done. Tha twould actually be really stupid in this situation. What could he even do?

[Ira]

A sigh of relief echoed through the Force. Wakanda closed her eyes as her shoulders relaxed slightly with the sigh. The togruta nodded her head giving a thanks being sent through the Force, the warmth of her aura returning slowly, as it had been chilled with the death which started clinging to the Force lately from this disease now plaguing them.

"Thank you, for putting all things aside for this." With only slight reluctance, she approached Revan.

"Organs collapse, literally. Cannot sustain themselves. Something envading. Hard to breathe. Boils on skin. But, I should be able to help. I just..."[/i] Her eyes fell to the girl in her arms and tossed a glance towards the sword she kept in tow with the Force. "I will leave her. The uh...quarantine needs to be made. I...think I should be fine. And you? Do you carry et? Are you able to do the healing? Or the curing?"

Slowly, Wakanda set the girl down onto the ground, carefully doing so in the most respectful and careful way one could simply leave a body there.

"I can try to fix et withen people, but I worry that as et lingers en the air, et no will help much. I have no way to clean the air."[/i]

[Saephara]

At first it was just an uncomfortable feeling inside of her, but she had paid no mind. As the day had gone by, Saephara knew that something was wrong. She carefully walked forward, away from the castle. The dress she still wore was still against her body. There was no wind in the air. All around her, the humans of Hallowton were dying quickly. Even her skin crawled at the feel of the very atmosphere of the area. It was thick and sickly feeling. It crawled across her skin, making the hairs on her body stand on end. As she clicked through the streets, she was amazed and horrified at what she saw. Children and their parents were limping through the streets, coughing into napkins spattered with blood. There were teens that had run away from home in the alleyways, seeking any way to relieve the pain. Many had boils that that come across their skin, threatening to break. Saephara shook her head sadly. This was the worst that she had seen in her life. She didn't yet have the power to save these people, her former townsfolk.

Her healing ability was continually being used throughout her own body, fighting off the worst of the damage and repairing what it could. Nonetheless, it was eventually going to kill her and she had to find out what it was that had swept across her once beloved town. Slowly but surely, she made her way towards the first place she had visited since coming back: her family's home. When she had arrived initially she had made a quick stop to place her belongings inside and park her motorcycle on the street in front of the Victorian home. Now she came back to hunt for answers. This disease that came across and killed so many so quickly was not natural. There must be something else she didn't know of...

She opened the heavy door again and a quick flash of the past returned, only to be battened back by her determination. She had a mission. Quickly she stumbled over to her bags in the corner and rummaged through them to replace her white dress and heels. A quick glance and she noticed that someone had come in and placed another bow in the corner of the room. She thought nothing of it as she pulled out a strapless white top with skinny black jeans, her second set of riding boots to go over them. When she finished, she pushed the duffel bag to the side to grab the heavy locked case hidden by her bike jacket. Pushing forth her energy, the case opened and immediately she began to rummage through the tomes of her generation.

Inside were books about her family history, books about the abilities she could eventually harness, things that were just stupid to her at the moment. After searching for several minutes, she scowled and threw them back inside. Angrily, she stood and walked around the living area. Everything in the home had been left as it was. No body wanted to enter the home of a family killed. Something about superstitions and such. Back and forth she paced and eventually she walked throughout the home and ended up in her late brother's bedroom. She looked around and simply sighed, causing her to cough slightly. Well shit, it was getting worse now... As she walked further in, she heard a change in the sound of her walk. She crouched down and tapped the wood with a fist, hearing the dull thud. Hmph. Mother and Father had hidden other documents as well? She placed her hands against the wood and snaked threads of her holy energy into the cracks of the floor to connect them. With a slight flick, the floor was sliced clean and she picked the pieces away. Below, she saw several other leather bound books but these had other images on them...images she didn't recognize. As she thumbed through one of them she found information on demons she hadn't ever heard of. As she scanned the document, she saw the words 'Great Plague.' She stopped and as she read through the article, she learned something like this had happened before. Nowhere did she see anything that helped with finding a cure for this illness.

Saephara sighed and grabbed all the books to place in her hardened case as she coughed once more. As she passed the window in the living room, a chill ran down her spine. There was a very angry entity somewhere. She placed her things inside the hardcased book safe and grabbed her jacket, additionally grabbing her motorcycle helmet as she passed the front door. She jingled her keys and tied her hair into yet another braid then pulled on her helmet. She threw her leg over the bike and used the strength in her thighs to pull the bike steady as she pulled the jacket on and kicked the stand up. The keys went in the ignition and on the bike went, roaring to life. Reveling in the purring of the bike, Sae kicked the bike from neutral to first and gave the bike some gas, taking off down the street. She had to find the source of this anger and soothe it. Her suspicion now was this....calamity was caused by a creature's sorrow and rage. She headed towards the source of the darkness: Hellsing Manor.

[Marvel Universe]

Tony was awakened from his slumber in his room of the castle by a sharp pain that hit his lungs and stomach. Gasping for air as he sat up on the side of his bed. A hand around his arc reactor as he did his very best to breathe. Noticing a boil on the back of his hand and pulling up on his sleeves to find more down the rest of his arms.

"Jarvis!"

Tony slowly got up to his feet, finding a staff that was left over in the room when he acquired it and using it as a much needed walking stick as he limped across the room. The pod where Jarvis was located coming over to his side as Stark opened up his curtains to see the green clouds outside that was blocking out the sun.

"That's a lovely view."

"It appears an epidemic has occurred over night, Master Stark."

"You think?"

Stark closed the curtains and then moved over to his work desk as Jarvis explained what he knew so far.

"Reports coming in are explaining symptoms similar to that of the Black Plague in history from our own realm. But much, much worse. Infection of the lungs is more frequent and comes with the boils and the boils found on the skin pop at the sightliest-"

While Jarvis was speaking Tony was making sure he didn't have these boils on a more sensitive area, but made the mistake of checking with his fingers through the pants and well...

"AHHHH!"

"Touch..."

[sebastian]

________________________________
The Persian-red singing [voice] slowly
dyes your chest the same [color]
[as if

[/color]] it's an eternally yearning
swiftly dispersing...
[Melody[/color]][/size]

________________________________

[/center]

How boring... This wasn't quite as fun as he'd thought it would be... It felt good to vent his rage on these unworthy souls, but it just wasn't as entertaining as he'd hoped it would be. But it was still too soon after the start of the Plague, only a few days. The crimson gaze rose to the sky, with was darkened by the eerie storm clouds, already with a trace of that poisonous green. Good... The first bout of acid rain would begin shortly, and the city's condition would be further worsened. The scent of death dominated everything right then, he could pick it up with his extra sensitive nose all too clearly as he walked through the dead-looking city. It was a smell which he was reveling in. All this suffering and pain and death... There was a certain satisfaction which came from knowing he was the one behind it all...



He made his way toward the main marketplace, where not long ago he had been picking up goods for Hellsing. But now, it was nothing like what it used to look like. The streets were filthy and full of mutilated corpses, human and animal carriers alike. He could see those who clung to life huddled in alleyways and against walls, coughing as blood trailed from their mouths. One might have thought tuberculosis, had there been fewer non-TB symptoms. Sebastian turned his head toward a small family of former Hellsing refugees who were raising their heads to see who was passing; and their eyes widened as they recognized the well-dressed man. "S... Sebastian..." He walked toward the mother who has spoken, who was trying to crawl toward his feet. He took a knee by her side, aware that anyone could be watching; so he would maintain that concerned Hellsing Butler act. "Hellsing... H.. Helped us once... Before... Can you... Help us now...?"

The butler allowed a sorrowful look to pass across his face. "I'm sorry Miss... There's nothing I can do, but I'm trying my best to find a cure..." The woman's head drooped as her eyelids fluttered; but she looked resigned now. "I kn.. Know... Hellsing will save... Hallowton... Will you.. Cremate us please? Then... We won't infect.. Others with our corpses..." Her eyes glassed over and she slumped over, limp and cold. Sebastian reached out to close her eyelids, then carefully picked her up and carried her back to her husband and two children. One child was also dead, and the father and final child were barely hanging on. The man had heard his wive's request, and smiled weakly up at the butler; non verbally agreeing with the request of cremation.



Sebastian waited with them, looking up as he saw a few figures moving around; apparently trying to aid those who were infected. They carried that same aura he had encountered from that "force-user" back when the demons had attacked Hallowton. Somewhere, he thought he could smell an angel as well... And that irritated him. They just had to interfere in everything, didn't they? Obnoxious and persistent creatures... But no matter... He ignored others as the father drew in his shuddering final breath, and the crimson gaze focused on the down dead refugee family. He rose to his feet, not bothering to brush dust from his tailcoat; and quickly had set up the burning as requested. He watched the smoke from the fire, then turned to continue walking. The fire would die on its own, and he'd made certain nothing was in reach for it to spread to buildings or to cause any sort of fire trouble.

He continued to walk down the road, sniffing the rancid air as he passed those two force-users on the other side of the road. They were surviving somehow, but that didn't matter. He was starting to feel satisfied with what had happened so far; though he made sure to hide that satisfaction beneath the mask of his act. As far as anyone knew, he was still Hellsing's butler, struggling to find a cure or some form of treatment against the plague. It wouldn't take long for any survivors to notice he wasn't affected in the slightest by the illness though... But he didn't care about that. Anyone who asked him how he was still well and plague-free would get an somewhat honest answer. That he was a demon in service to Hellsing, and illness didn't affect his kind. He paused in his steps again to kneel by yet another fallen human, checked for pulse; then sighed and closed those eyes as well. Deep inside though... He felt savagely entertained.

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]________________________________
In the [stillness] of the shining sky
is your [home] of return
Beyond the [darkness[/color]][/size]

Thoughts ► "I am still a butler..."
Feelings ► False concern, inwardly satisfied.

[/size][/justify]
Where the [moon sinks[/color]][/size]
is a narrow [path[/color]] that leads you[/size]

Muse ► Great!
Tags ► Hallowton
Notes ► None
Music ► Si Deus Me Relinquit
Credits ► Aurion!

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]
Back to the [beginning[/color]][/size]
________________________________
[/center]

[Silver Eyes]

There were others here observing the dead. Since this disease only targeted humans, it would seem she wasn't the only non-human within this city (other than Sparda and that angel who stabbed herself with an arrow). Some of them gave off a...feeling. It was difficult to describe. It's like looking at someone and somehow knowing right away that something was terribly amiss. After a brief chill raced down her spine, she briskly walked along the sidewalk to get a better look at the dead. One had been deceased for at least an hour, at least from the look of it, so she knelt down to gain a better understanding of the symptoms that plagued the body.

The boils looked painful --and pain was something she hadn't quite adjusted to yet, so she did flinch at the sight of it--, but that was all she could really assess out here. She'd have to take the body apart to really understand what was going on inside, and that little amnesia trip made her forget a good portion of her abilities. She'll figure it out later, because another non-human was right nearby doing the same thing.

From behind her curtain of short hair, she allowed her third eye to peel open on her forehead to get a good scan of his aura. Demon, and a powerful one at that. His aura was a blood red--he was angry about something, very angry, but that was all she could gather. If she continued to use this ability, she may be detected by him, or some other creature that lived within the city. With some effort, her skin covered her Third Eye, and her aura was again repressed to a less noticeable level.

"Do you know how this could have started?" In an attempt to shake off any suspicion that she was observing Sebastian, she closed the corpse's eyes, and feigned sympathy for the dead,"Maybe an attack from some enemy this city has?" She had no suspicions that he was the source.

[Byakko Furaribi]

Questas watched the two speak with one another within its domain. It took some effort to remember the conversation Neko had once had with this one, but after a few moments the sword blurted the name out loud. Wok...Wak...Wakanda? That was the name you gave my once carrier correct?" the sword asked in a voice that faintly echoed.