Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Lutetia City: Vargeras

"They're saying it's the Caer," Seri answered with a doubtful sniff. "But they say that about everything that goes bump in the night. Whoever it is, they had bombs. Lots of them, by the looks of it." There was a pause, as the werecat cast a look at Antione's trembling, hesitating a moment before continuing. "Seems like they're more interested in big targets than random ones. Here is probably safe." It was hardly the most heartening of reassurances, but hopefully it would set the other boy at least somewhat more at ease to know he wasn't likely in any imminent danger himself.

"The news is running coverage of some of it. Overheard someone's radio on my way over here." Hopping down from the railing, Seri padded across the balcony and in through Antione's door with a casual disregard for boundaries that was distinctly catlike. He paused a moment, casting his eyes around the room until they landed on a small television set atop a dresser, and nodded towards it expectantly. It wasn't like he had thumbs right now, after all.
 
Last edited:
"Bombs," Antione echoed, looking out towards the closest pillar of smoke. His mind tried to wrap around why anyone would resort to such destruction, even if it wasn't the often blamed Caer. There was plenty of violence and crime in the city but even the most ruthless werewolf packs never scarred the city so drastically. It was so indiscriminate compared to every other tragedy that struck the city, and that's what scared him the most. Specially not knowing if his sisters or mother was okay.

He was snapped out of his stupor when he saw Seri jump down from the railing from the corner of his eye. He was quick to follow the magical demifeline back into his small loft apartment.

It was a quaint abode with just enough room for Ante and his things. The bed was by far the largest piece of furniture, taking up a quarter of the living space. There wasn't many other pieces to compete with for space however, leaving the small main room easy enough to navigate, even if Seri was in human form.

It took a second for Antion to realize what Seri wanted him to do. He stepped up to the dresser and turned the small, boxy tv on. He clicked the small arrows at the bottom a few times until he was on the local news station, as over-the-air channels were all he could get in his apartment.

Absentmindedly he reached down and picked Seri up, a habit he'd formed with a few of the more friendly strays that visited him. Holding the smooth haired cat close to his chest, he sat down on the bed with his legs crossed and hunched over his friend.
 
as written by Tiko and Faithy

It hadn't taken Draaven and Aimee long to return to the med center, but with the sun up and prying eyes all around they had to maintain discretion. It wouldn't serve to get pulled over with so much heat hanging over the pack right now.

“Go on and give Ragenard a call, find out which direction they headed,” Draaven told Aimee as they pulled out onto a main street.

Aimee was thankful when they made it back to the med center and snagged a car without any issues. She wasn’t sure if they were all about to go into a trap, but figured if shit hit the fan, having an escape car could be handy. Leaning back in the seat, she slid her fingers through her hair, bouncing between being pissed at Jacques for being a turncoat and worried about the Scions killing him. Sighing heavily in an attempt to clear her mind to focus on the task at hand, Aimee nodded towards Draaven and tugged her phone out, scrolling through her contact list in order to call up Ragenard.

“None of this makes sense…” She muttered, listening to the ringing coming from her phone.

“How so?” Draaven asked while Aimee waited for Ragenard to pick up.

“Why would he go to them to give him information, but then not give them anything? Why even turn on the pack? Not only that… why bother come save me if he was already working for the Scions? I just… I wish I knew what was going through his mind.” Aimee sighed heavily, squeezing the bridge of her nose before pulling down the visor, peering at her bandaged face with a slight growl. “I want answers I’ll never get and that irks me immensely.”

"I've been gone a long time," Draaven answered. "I don't know the current state of things, but what I remember of Jacques from before, there was always bad blood there between him and the Guiscards. You and your mother meant the world to him though, and that bound him to pack even if not loyalty. I can't presume to know what drove him now ten years later, but maybe his motives were more singularly directed than betraying the pack, or you. Whatever his reasons or motives though, he was foolish to turn to the Scions."

“Why was there bad blood…? Why didn’t he just take mom and I and go if he didn’t really want to be in the pack? I don’t understand and I know it’s because I’m young and pretty naive, but.. I just don’t get it.” Aimee frowned, shutting the visor back before glancing down at her lap, the injured hand resting in it, while the other still held the phone to her ear. She still didn’t know whether or not to be pissed at her father or concerned and that bothered her. Biting on her bottom lip, she glanced over towards Draaven, head shaking a little. “He shouldn’t have hidden from me… I’m his daughter… he should have talked to me. I know I’ve spent the last few years plastered most of the time, but he still shouldn’t have kept me in the dark.”
 
Seri gave a startled meow as he was plucked from the floor, stunned enough by the unexpected gesture that he didn't think to struggle or otherwise react until he was already being hugged atop the bed. "Hey- Stop that," he stuttered after a moment, wriggling out of the other boy's grip and flouncing indignantly a few paces away on the bed. "I'm not your pet, or your cuddle-buddy," he grumbled, embarrassed.

The news station was, of course, covering the attacks. A reporter was stood not far from Valentine Park, where plumes of smoke were billowing into the air from numerous fires that were just about visible as orange glows in the distance from their vantage point. According to the reel at the bottom of the screen, attacks had hit the park, the police headquarters, the cathedral, and numerous other landmarks around the city. It seemed that most of the areas targeted were central, historically significant or otherwise prominent locations in the city. When Antione tuned in, the reporter was in the process of interviewing a harried looking woman who had apparently been in the park at the time of the attack. She was describing - somewhat hysterically - having seen monsters and vampires ravaging the crowds in the moments after the bombs had hit, fending off paladins like they were nothing.

Seri watched this uneasily, tail flicking side to side. Even he could realise that this was big. Whoever it was, they were making some sort of statement by what they were targeting. They thought they could take on the Monastic Order. And by the sounds of it, at least today, they had.

"So much for the tin-men keeping this city safe," he muttered. "Guess they really are good for nothing."
 
Antoine released his feline friend as soon as he protested, but didn't release his grip fast enough, leaving Seri to squirm out from his lap. The youth blinked with a distant stare as he watched the boy-in-cat-form jump from his lap to his own spot on the bed. "Oh, sorry..." he said with an equally distant tone in his voice, pulling his legs up against his chest.

The interview had settled somewhere in his throat before descending into the pit of his stomach. The word "monsters" hung especially heavy in his gut, with the imagery of wretched beasts and gnarled creatures in his mind's eye. The fantastical had always been a part of his life, of every Lutetians' life, but it always felt so distant. It was still distant here, but so very close at the same time. The worries, the stories, the cautionary tales; it all was supposed to happen to someone else in a dark alley, to some poor soul. Not the whole of the city.

"Yeah," he replied to Seri's remark without thinking, still entangled in his thoughts.

"I... I don't know where my sisters and mother are," he finally remarked after a few moments of silence, realizing that he'd turned down their invitation to celebrate the holiday so hastily that he had no details of their plans. He snapped out of his stupor just long enough to lean across the bed, almost laying across Seri in the process, and snatched his phone from the night stand.

He called his mother as quick as his fumbling fingers could press the screen, holding the rectangle up against his ear for a few seconds before hearing his mother's voice. "You've reached Odette Mortemer, leave a message," the voice instructed before Antoine cut it off. He quickly did the same for his two sisters, but was greeted with the same message; save for his sister Cécile who's message was just an automated voice and her number.

"What do I do," he whispered, holding his knees even tighter against his chest, staring distantly out the window towards one of the billowing pillars of smoke.
 
Last edited:
Seri bristled slightly as his personal space was invaded again by Antione leaning over him to reach his phone. This time he didn’t comment, settling for shooting the boy a warning glower and indignantly adjusting his position. As Antione made his calls, though – and catlike hearing picked up at least the gist of what he heard – he softened somewhat. He was confident the few people he would care enough about to worry for wouldn’t be anywhere near the sites of the attacks, but clearly the other boy had no such luxury.

There was a pause, as the werecat lingered over what to say. Offering comfort was hardly something he had practice in. “Neighbours?” he ventured after a moment. “Or friends. Maybe they know.” He certainly wasn’t about to suggest going out to look. Getting closer to the chaos again would be complete idiocy. He didn’t want to ask the other things that sprung to mind. Were they religious? Did they often go to the festival?

The news broadcasts were already suggesting that the death toll at the park would be horrifically high. Bombs had gone off in the middle of crowded stands, and monsters had cut into the crowds there indiscriminately. He let another pause hang for a moment. “They’re probably fine,” he offered finally, though it was obvious from his tone he knew he couldn’t say that with even the remotest surety.
 
"Yeah, they're probably fine," he echoed Seri, though his distant tone indicated his assurance in the statement was even less than his friend's. He could have done some more sleuthing, calling neighbors like the werecat had suggested after searching up points of contact for them, but the longer he thought about it the more he wrestled with that fear of knowing their fate verse the unease of not. More than anything he hated himself for not accepting his mother's invitation to join them for the holiday, instead seeking other comforts.

It was hell just sitting there, watching the skyline in flames. Even with the draining thoughts of his family running through his head he found himself fidgeting as the pair sat in silence. Eventually he couldn't take it anymore and stood up, practically storming to the small kitchenette. The alcove was caddie corner to the bed, leaving part of it obscured. Sounds of glasses clinging against glass rang out from the cupboards as Ante fished out a small wine glass followed by a bottle of brown liquid.

"You want something," he asked flatly to his uninvited guest, not even bothering to joke about saucers of milk or cans of tuna- finding his humor having faded.
 
When the silence started to stretch on, Seri lowered himself down onto the bed, flattening his ears uncomfortably. He'd nothing to say that felt appropriate, and for once the situation seemed grave enough that he didn't fill the void with something inappropriate instead. He startled slightly when Ante got to his feet, lifting his head to watch the other boy's assault on the kitchen mutely. He caught the scent of alcohol a moment before Ante produced the bottle, wrinkling his nose slightly.

A drink did seem like a potentially good idea. Seri was far from a heavy drinker - alcohol other than cheap piss had been thin on the ground in the Phantom Quarter, and unlike some of the runts and their 'neighbours', he'd never been one for drowning his sorrows, preferring to stay alert. Still, the city being in flames and the apparent resurgence of Lutetia's boogeymen seemed like it justified a little dulling of the senses.

After a short pause, he nodded. "Sure. If you don't mind," he answered, before pausing to eye the glass. He didn't feel like going through the indignity of trying to drink in this shape. But that introduced another problem. Glancing away awkwardly, Seri's tail flicked back and forth a few times before he spoke again. "Do you, er, have any spare clothes? I left mine in an alley when I shifted..."
 
The bottle had only been opened once before, with the cork screw left in, leaving Ante to simply tug on the bottle to open it. With the cork removed the sweet aroma wafted upwards before being dispersed through the rest of the kitchenette as he poured his glass. He took a sip, and then another, and another in rapid succession. He didn't feel even the mellow burn of the cognac until he tipped the glass further back and drained the small portion he'd initially poured for himself. The sudden thirst surprised him, and he fought back the urge to pour another, fuller glass before getting the other youth a set of clothes.

"Yeah, hold on," he replied, traipsing to his dresser and rummaging through the drawers. He realized he himself could stand to put some clothes on, and fished out a second shirt and shorts along with a single pair of underwear for the werecat.

"Now I can understand why you weren't big on cuddling, sitting there naked," he joked weakly as he tugged his own dark grey shirt over his head. The fabric wrapped tightly around his torso, displaying a faded rose over his heart. The shorts weren't nearly as tight, which he stepped into shortly after donning his shirt.

He stole one last look at the black cat before returning to the kitchen and giving the slinking feline some privacy to transform back. He busied himself with producing another glass and pouring two servings of the pricey brandy, his glass noticeably closer to being topped off compared to his guest's.
 
"Not big on cuddling either way," Seri mumbled, looking off at the window and flicking his tail huffily. He glanced back after a moment, noting the pile of clothes and awkwardly waiting for Antione to move back into the kitchen area. Once he was sure the other boy's back was turned, he hopped down from the bed and shifted. Unlike a werewolf's transformation, Seri's was smooth and took only moments; shadows briefly wreathed his form as he rose out of his cat shape, his body elongating and becoming humanoid once more. When the shadows cleared, he'd returned to the form of the boy Ante had met the other night. Thankfully for him, his scrawny frame was about the same size as Ante's, so the clothes fit well enough when he scrambled into them - a lot better, in fact, than most of the rags he'd worn in the phantom quarter, or the oversized hand-me-down rags the Bloodstones had lent him - although they were maybe a little too form-fitting for his liking.

Once he was dressed, he stepped over to the edge of the kitchenette, propping himself up against the wall. "Thanks," he piped up sheepishly after a moment. "For the clothes. This is why I don't usually shift while I'm out. Inconvenient... and awkward."
 
"On a positive note, now you won't have to slink around in those rags you call clothes," he teased. Propping himself against the counter Ante got a good look at the young man in clothes a bit more fashionable, or at least presentable. Their frames were similar, save for the couriers lower half and his shapely legs. Maybe not exactly the type of guy Antoine would normally pursue, but attractive never the less.

"Here," he added, breaking his gawking gaze to give Seri his glass. He didn't wait for his friend before sipping his full cup, but just as before his sips turned into long draws as he chased down the feeling and taste that should have assuaged his worries. Instead the brown fluid did nothing for him, and with a slightly trembling hand he sat the glass aside.

"Um," his gaze faltered and fell as he gathered his thoughts as best he could, "I get the feeling that even if I wanted to I couldn't get rid of you, so feel free to stay here as long as you like, and you can keep the clothes, wick knows you could use them more than me."
 
Seri shifted awkwardly under Antione’s gaze, avoiding eye contact as the other boy gave him a not-entirely-subtle once over. “They’re not rags,” he mumbled, an edge of defensiveness creeping into his tone. “Just old.” Generally, Seri didn’t give much thought to his appearance beyond keeping clean, but Ante’s attention was enough to make him self-conscious of it – at least in the moment. The scrutiny was embarrassing, as evidenced by a subtle reddening of the werecat’s cheeks, and the silence it created hung uncomfortably until Ante broke it again to hand him the glass.

“Thanks,” Seri murmured, taking it from him without looking up. While Antione quickly started to down the drink, the werecat gave it an experimental and wary sniff before sampling a small sip. His nose wrinkled slightly at the strong taste and the slight burning, but he ignored the discomfort and took another, longer drink. Nope, it was still unpleasant like that too. Hopefully it’d do its job, at least, and then he’d care less.

He glanced up as Ante set his drink aside, noting the boy’s trembling with a slight frown. “I won’t stay if you don’t want me here,” he answered with a shrug, looking off to the side with an exaggerated indifference that came across a little more like sulking. “But doesn’t seem like you’re in much of a state to be alone,” he added frankly, eyeing the bottle on the side.
 
Ante let out a sigh and a tired expression to match the other's frown as he realized how much of an ass he sounded like right then. Slouching against the counter top, he fidgeted with his bangs for a second, brushing them away from his eyes. His gaze lingered on the floor again and his bare, pale feet.

"No, no I want you to stay here," he replied, his tone much softer than before. He hated to admit that the other youth was right. Drinking was a pastime of his, but more often than not it was sociable- with only the occasional emotional breakdown. He might not have been slamming down shots, but weight of events was bearing down on him in ways he never dwelt on. He wasn't in danger of causing harm to himself, but the risk of stupid decisions was remarkably higher.

"I want you to stay here for both my sake and your's," he added, reaching out and pulling the raven haired boy into a sincere embrace- despite the werecat's earlier stance on physical affection. "And thank you, for worrying enough about me to stay."
 
Seri startled slightly as Ante pulled him into a hug, stiffening instinctively at the contact. He remained tense for a moment, fighting his default response of flinching away and wriggling out of the hug, but eventually he relaxed somewhat - though he was still obviously out of place, awkwardly bringing one hand up to pat the other boy's arm. "Uh, s'alright," he mumbled, looking off to the side to avoid focusing on how close Ante was. Stupid overly-touchy boy.

"And thanks too, I guess," he added, oozing awkwardness. "For letting me stay. I uh, appreciate it."

There was another pause, Seri's embarrassment growing as the embrace lingered. "So is the plan just drinking now?" he asked, trying to prompt them moving on from anything mushy.
 
Antoine let out a shallow chuckle and loosened his hold on the other boy as he realized how out of place the werecat felt in his hug. With hands still at Seri's shoulders he gave him a somber grin and a nod. The mood was still dourer, thoughts of Ante's family still gnawing in the back of his mind, but they were safe and that's all that mattered in the here and now.

"If the world's ending, we'll make merry, if it's not, we'll make it even merrier," he chimed. He let go of his guest and grabbed the bottle to top off their drinks, realizing he'd left his glass half full and Seri had only nursed his for the most. He elected to only dribble a little more of the fruity tasting brandy into their glasses. He weighed the bottle in his hand a moment longer before setting it down and snatching his glass in one hand and Seri's in the other to lead them both back out to the patio. If he was going to cower in fear better to get box seats for the show.
 
Seri gave a humourless snort. Making merry. He supposed it was fitting, it was genarium, after all. Not that the holiday had ever meant much to him. "Sure," he answered, giving Ante a dry look. Trailing after the other boy, he followed him out onto the balcony. The cool air bit slightly through the thin clothes, but he hardly noticed it. Smoke still billowed in the distance. He propped himself up against the railing, looking down at the alley below for a few moments. The faint sound of the TV inside mingled with strangers talking somewhere further down the road, and the sirens in the distance, making a busy backdrop to his thoughts.

It was a while before he spoke again, turning his head up from the view to give Ante a considering look. "What're they like? Your family, I mean." There was a pause, in which he awkwardly glanced away. "If you're okay talking about them, that is. Would make sense if you didn't want to, right now. But thought you might... that it might help?" He seriously didn't know what he was doing here. Trying to be nice was so much more difficult than just insulting people. Uhg.
 
Antoine took his seat catty corner from Seri, sitting against the slanted roof instead of leaning on the railing of the small balcony. Easier to sip his glass with his arms free. Again unlike Seri his attention seemed aimed downwards at his knees and the half empty glass perched on top of one of them, mulling over something by the distant expression on his face. Which lingered only a split second when his companion spoke up, drawing his gaze upwards one more.

"Yeah, they're fine, so I shouldn't have a problem right," he asked rhetorically followed by a weak chuckle. He took a drink from his glass, forcing himself to sip the tasteless fluid instead of drinking deep from the cup. It gave him a second to gather his thoughts as well.

"I mean, there's not much to say about them that can't be said for most other family members, mom's a worrier, sisters are a pain in the ass, but you gotta love them right," he paused again for a sip, before speaking again in a much more somber tone.

"My sisters are a few years older than me, they mean well most of the time but like most women all they want to do is tell you how to live your life, Abby, she's the oldest, at least grew out of that phase, but Cécile, she's a cunt, a well meaning cunt, but a cunt never the less." Idly he poured a small amount of his drink from his cup with a sigh, continuing with his monologue.

"I don't think I'd ever seen a women work as hard as my mother though, my father wasn't in the picture much, holidays and a weekend every month or so, but most of the time he was just a paycheck, so she was mother and father for us, I'm glad us brats were the more independent types, took some of the weight from her shoulders specially as we grew older."

"What about you," he asked, swirling his glass a little.
 
Seri listened to Ante talk about his family quietly, watching him and nodding along in the pretence that yes, he knew exactly what the other boy was talking about. It was same old, same old - nothing that couldn't be said about any other family. It probably wasn't the best time to mention he wasn't quite so familiar with those norms. So he didn't. He just kept nodding, and occasionally sipping at his drink. That seemed like the right thing to do, as Ante seemed content to keep the words flowing.

It took him a moment to register when one of the questions wasn't rhetorical. He blinked, looking away and down at the drink. "Me? Ah, there's not much worth talking about," he answered, shrugging. "Alley cats don't have a lot to say when it comes to family," he added with a jovial smirk. It didn't quite reach his eyes, but it was close enough to it. There was probably a metaphor in there somewhere.
 
"There's always something worth talking about," he chuckled, dipping a couple of finger tips into his drink and with a flick sprinkling the werecat. "Pretty sure you're not a hermit, so even if you don't have a family you've got to have friends, or people like family, a significant other or something; give me your life story."

He pushed off the slanted roof with one leg and took up a spot next to Seri on the railing, keeping close enough to feel the other young man's body heat. The cold air was starting to bother him so even the small source of warmth was far more enjoyable than normal, though to Seri Antoine's body felt colder than usual whenever bare arm met bare arm.

"I know how you cats work, don't make me scratch behind your ears or the small of your back, I'll get you to talk," he teased further, his weak smile widening a bit more as they sat there in the midst of a dark and deathly night- finding comfort in the small things.
 
Seri shot a glower at Ante as the other boy flicked some of his drink at him, but it quickly dissolved into a smirk and a snort. Rolling his eyes, he lapped his tongue out to lick a droplet of the drink off of his face. This time he didn't move away when Antoine joined him, the proximity not bothering him quite so much now that he was getting used to it (and having a little bit of drink in him didn't hurt). "Persistent," he mumbled, shaking his head. "Alright, fine. Closest I have to a family is the gang I hung out with in the Phantom Quarter. Went by 'the runts' - wasn't our choice of name, but it fit. The rest were wolves. Kids, mostly. Street trash like me. A woman called Cass looked out for us. Didn't always work out, but she did her best. There were a bunch of 'em. Most of them were drunks, including some of the kids."

He shrugged. "It was better than having nobody. Was that way for a while after I came to the city. Got by alright on my own, but... not sure how long that would have lasted. I was pretty young, and not very savvy."

There was a pause, and he smirked again. "And for the record, petting in this shape isn't any less weird than petting a regular human."
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top