RP:Crazy In Love... Emphasis On 'Crazy'

Summary: Tiber and Lanara continue their honeymoon but rather than have a romantic evening in a luxurious suite, they are forced to take a stroll through a graveyard and loot some caskets. They are trying to kill some time and catch their bearings, naively assuming that their drunk driver went to get help after their carriage tipped over. Somehow, the couple ends up waking the dead and they have to work together to escape with their own lives.

Part of the New Moon, New Motion Arc

(Post 1 of 2) The horses race along foreign streets, having to cut through the City of the Undead, as the carriage hopes to reach the Xalious mountain pass before nightfall. The sun is rapidly fading in the distance and the driver repeatedly keeps nodding off, as a flask drained of whiskey is upon his lap and he cannot seem to keep his eyes open. In the rear of the carriage sits the newlyweds, cuddled up and sharing steamy smooches, eager to spend a night beneath the stars at the location where the Catalian had dropped to one knee a few months prior. Without warning, one of the horses' shoes comes loose and it spooks the other three! The carriage sways wildly from side to side, jostling the driver and the passengers, before it violently tips onto its side and comes to an abrupt halt. Somehow the axle had come undone and the four horses scatter, each one heading off in a different direction, as though they sense impending doom. The drunkard stands there, uselessly holding the tattered reins, and scratching his chin. He doesn’t even bother to part the curtains and check on the couple within the carriage! With a shrug, he wanders off into the night and fades from view. Those with enhanced senses can hear his stumbling footfalls and hiccups as he aimlessly parades around Vailkrin.

(Post 2 of 2) Lanara comes to after a few moments, her big brown eyes full of fear, as she lifts a hand to rub the back of her head. Had they been in an accident? All she can recall is the stench of whiskey assaulting her senses as she wasn’t sure if the driver had bathed in the liquor or consumed too much. A few droplets of blood are smeared on Lana’s fingertips and she winces as she turns her head to the right to gaze upon her beloved, “Tiber… Baby?” Alarmed, she struggles to stand as most of their luggage landed upon them when the carriage tipped. “We were in an accident… Are you okay?” The witch wants nothing more than to rewind time so that they can go back to making out in the carriage. She was looking forward to camping in Xalious and watching the sunrise from the cliff, as it’s one of the prettiest places in the realm. Shoving the curtain to the side, she peers out and sees that they are in a graveyard. “Great.” A sign above the entrance states the city name and she scowls, “Fracking wonderful. The horses are gone, our driver has alcohol poisoning and wandered off, and we have been deposited in bloodsucker central.” A graveyard?! It’s a small upgrade from the swamp, but it’s still Lana’s most hated region in all of the realm. “Can you walk, Baby? I think we should get out… We are sitting ducks right now.” The last thing she wants is to have her blood drained on their honeymoon!

Tiber had been enwrapped in pure suave and bliss as he touches the soft curves of his wife before he flies forward on impact. His brow bone knocks against something hard with the shocking turn of events. The wagon is still, the horses are off, and the couple lay in the bed of the carriage. The lycan seethes as he gains his ground of the position of the cart. “I…” They are angled, and Lanara is coming out of a daze. “I’m… Are you okay? Babe? Babe?” Blood stains some of her hand from the back of her head, he impulsively moves forward to reach for her, but she is already moving to see what happened. “Don’t move too fast,” but she is observing the scene. Tiberius slowly moves and avoids any debris of the carriage inside as there was shattered glass on the interior due to the champagne glasses. One champagne shard is dug into his quad, but easily he plucks the bloody shard out with a grunt. “I’m fine. I can walk.” He stands with her, and when he catches a glimpse of the outside, a large frown sets on his face. “s***!” Blood dribbles over his eyelash, and easily an arm wipes away the blood on the cut for now. “That coward ran off.” Tiberius takes initiative first to get out of the carriage before turning around to help Lanara. Eyes staring at the graveyard around them. “Who the hell takes a detour to this dreaded area? We really hired some guy, didn’t we?”

Lanara has a pounding headache and a fierce wave of nausea hits her as she exits the carriage, all but falling into the arms of her husband. “I’m glad he ran off, because if I catch up to him…? He’s deader than the people in this place.” She definitely has a concussion and she’s grateful that darkness is settling so that the light doesn’t destroy her vision. Still. Being in a graveyard at night isn’t comforting. Even if she has her big, bad wolf at her side! “I’m fine…” A necessary lie. She’ll be okay in a few hours, once her rapid healing kicks in. “Are you alright?” Does he need stitches? A harsh breeze sweeps into the area as the temperature seems to drop, and with the hot and cold blending, fog descends on the already creepy graveyard. It seems that the graveyard extends for miles and miles in all directions, and Lana steps closer to Tiber as her inner wolf whines in worry. “I’m a Witch, in a place with unsettled souls… Any undeads that are lurking will be drawn to my power.” She tries to shake the worry from her bones and feigns a smile, “Hey… At least we aren’t wading through murky water with snakes, right? Why don’t we go rob some caskets to kill the time? Maybe the driver ran off to get help?”

Tiber can tell something is off with the collapse into him. “Yeah, well, I’m sure I’ll track that loser down, at some point.” Tiberius tries to observe the wound on her head before trying to get a finger under her chin to have her look at him. “You are not -fine-. But there’s not much we can do now.” He scratches his head as he looks around. “I’m, uh, fine.” His wounds would heal, and he could still walk. There would just be a sting for a while. “Undead are drawn to your magic, and you want to rob graves? You give the driver too much credit, but we should get walking to a main strip if we can sense the direction? Maybe in the process we can rob what we can from some caskets,” he smirked at his wicked little witch. “Then, once we find the main city, we won’t stick around long, but we can send some people back to gather our belongings from the carriage?”

Lanara winces again when Tiber lifts her by the chin, her irises dilated and vision a little blurry. The wound on the back of her head needs stitches, but she’d rather hang out in a graveyard with a concussion than cut a single lock of her hair. “I’ll recover.” She grabs his hand, their blood mingling, as she squints to look in each direction. “Okay… I know the Vailkrin City Graveyard is several miles long in each direction, but at some point we have to run into help… Or the exit.” Lana thinks she sees a building far off in the distance, it’s likely a maintenance shack but to her concussed mind it looks like a magnificent castle. “That wretched excuse of a woman, Larewen, I think her royal house is over there! Let’s head to the east…” She tugs him in that direction and they walk for a few minutes, mindful of any headstones and newly dug graves. For some reason, Lana’s intuition is going into overdrive in a certain spanse of land, so she stops short and drops Tiber’s hand. “I’m going to put us in a protection bubble… It will halve any magical or physical attacks.” A witch isn’t supposed to use magic when they aren’t in stellar physical or mental health, but Lana shuts her eyes and whispers a spell in Sylvan, encasing their bodies and all that’s within a six foot radius. However, as she’s standing there with her eyes closed, a skeletal hand erupts from the ground and latches onto Tiber’s waiting hand! Lanara casts a protection spell on Tiber, herself… And an undead that wishes to join their little foray through the graveyard on a moonlit night! The Catalian likely thinks that he’s holding his wife’s hand and will begin moving forward, helping to further unearth their unwanted companion! “So mote it be!” Finishing her spell, Lana drops to her feet to tie her shoes and sees that -something- seems to have dug itself from the unsettled dirt! Her eyes widen and she peers through the fog, but cannot see very far in front of her face, “Babe?” Is he a few feet ahead? Will he notice that her voice is a bit in the back? How had they gotten separated already?!

Tiber does not know much about Vailkrin, as this was not necessarily his go-to territory. Even if it was for money, Vailkrin was a red-flag for him. The city was not his cup of tea. “I have no idea who Larewen is, but why are we aiming for her house if she’s so… awful? Maybe you should let -me- make the decisions.” Lanara -did- have a concussion. Was it good to trust the woman right now? Tiberius also knows nothing of concussions and magic, so he is hoping the Goddess comes in clutch with this one. The magic takes its course and the hand comes from the earth to clutch his own. He pays no mind as he is focused on the Kelvarian’s state before he moves forward towards the direction Lanara is adamant about. Thinking that the witch is following him in hand, he pays no mind to her as he navigates the area. He has a hold on her… right? He is a few feet ahead when he hears the questioning of ‘babe’, and he turns which pulls the hand off of the undead. He looks down as he sees the witch far behind him and stares at the dangling hand in his own. “What the hell?!” He jumps before looking at the undead before trying to offer the hand back and he sticks it in the ribcage of the decaying skeleton impulsively before backing up. “Lana, what did you -do-?!”

Lanara didn’t have the heart to tell Tiber just why Larewen was at the very top of her karma list, because then he would think she still harbors feelings for her ex-fiance. She doesn’t. Eli could very well be buried in this graveyard and she wouldn’t shed a single tear. No. She would. But it would be tears of -joy- after he left her at the altar and became Larewen’s new boy-toy and a vampire. The bloodsucker had also taken Emrith from her sister, and she’s pure evil! Lana is thinking of all the reasons she hates the woman as she stomps behind Tiber, wondering where the heck he ran off to while she was tying her shoe. Had Larewen sampled another of her leftovers? Did he fall into a hole? “Babe!” Getting impatient and more nauseous with each step, Lana pauses to steady herself and a huge earthworm slowly slithers across her shoe. It looks like a baby snake! “Ahhhhh!” A scream that’s fit to wake the dead exits her lush lips and she darts, colliding against Tiber’s frame, and seeing him stick a detached hand into a decaying skeletons midsection. With blurred vision, cloaked in fog, and it being dark with nary a star in the sky… Lanara thinks that it’s an anorexic bald woman with some brittle bone disease. What the heck had she missed?! Is her head injury worse than she thinks? The pounding in her skull escalates from her scream and she sways from side to side, lifting a finger and pointing at the sickly skinny homewrecker, “He married -me- so you just back off, bit-” She swivels her attention to Tiber, “And what did -you- do, Mister?! Looks like you are quite comfy in this graveyard with your boney bimbo!” The undead plucks its hand from its ribcage and shrieks loudly, taking offense at the couple that had disturbed its unearthing. Lifting its hand in its hand, the undead swiftly approaches Tiber and aims to bash him on his head and chest. It has a thirst for flesh, though, so before long it tosses the hand and bites at the air and aims to take a chunk out of the Catalian. Lana squints, unsure of what she’s seeing, “I know he’s a thirst trap but he’s -mine- so you need to step off!”

Tiber stares flabbergasted at the undead. Lanara bumps into him and he is trying to pull back, but instead he’s pushed forward by his wife. “Lana, what the heck?!” ‘He married -me- so you just back off’ is his wife okay? Is she seeing what he is seeing? This legit skeleton? The undead chomps at the air to reach out for the Catalian and hits Tiber in the head with the skeleton hand which is quite hard, mind one. “Ow!” What was evening happening?! Tiber reaches for Lanara’s mid-section and snakes an arm around her to pick her up to get her out of harm’s way. The man would then lift his foot and donkey kick the undead in the chest. Tiber’s foot gets locked in the ribcage of the undead which gives the thing a perfect opportunity for a chomp down on his leg. He pushes all his weight down to weaken the thing and push it into the earth–crunching down on the bones before slipping his foot out. He then carries the witch at a quick pace before letting her go to check in on her head, “I thought this spell was to protect us?! Not turn into an undead snack. How hard did you hit your head? How many fingers am I holding up?” He holds up five fingers for her.

Lanara sways in place and wags her finger towards the skeleton, still thinking it’s some bald tramp in a graveyard looking to steal her man. “I’m not gonna tell you again!” She’s slurring her words and heavily concussed but she quiets down when Tiber picks her up with one arm. Lana doesn’t see the skeleton smack him in the head but she does see when her mate’s foot gets stuck in the ribcage of the monster. “Hey! I said back off you boney bimbo!” Lana starts kicking and her arms are flailing around as she’s desperately trying to aim a kick at the skeleton. Sadly, one of those tiny fists may accidentally sock Tiber in the shoulder! At last, the Catalian is freed and the bundle of bones seeps back into the dirt. “I did it. I saved you.” She did -nothing- more than aggravate the situation but in her injured mind she is the heroine. “Stop it! Cheater!” Lana’s swatting at Tiber as he looks at the back of her head and she yelps when his fingers come away coated in blood. The gash is deep and nearly scratches the base of her skull so it’s a wonder how she’s still conscious. “Put me down. The reason the spell backfired is because you replaced me with that skinny bald chick. You were holding her hand and it protected the three of us.” Lana’s eyes cross when Tiber holds his fingers up and it takes her a few minutes to guess at a number. She settles, “Two. Duh. Let’s go over to the castle.” It’s not a castle. It’s a small storage shed with bags of soil, shovels, and gardening tools. However, it’s the only sanctuary in sight.

Tiber lets out a huff as Lanara had been so squirrely in his arm. He takes a moment to rub his shoulder from her tiny might of a punch. He can feel blood trickling down his calf where the bite was, but he was focused on Lanara’s state. It was worrisome. Fingers are gentle as he prods, and he pulls back and wipes her blood on his pants. “Cheater? I just got bit by a skeleton that you conjured!” When she says he is holding up two fingers, he looks puzzled. He reaches for her cheek to scan her eyes. She clearly has a concussion. “Babe, I was holding up five. You’re not okay. Lanara, we need to find you a clinic. And we need to get out of here… Before anything else conjures.” He looks over his shoulder at a storage shed. “It’s a shed. I don’t think we have time for digging in graves. You need a doctor.”

Lanara shakes her head and fights to swallow the bile that rises in her throat. She’s nauseous and dizzy and doesn’t understand why Tiber looks so concerned. Is he upset that she beat up his boney girlfriend back there? Cradling the fist that struck Tiber’s shoulder, she winces as if it hurts, “Why are you being such a party pooper, though? You said if I married you that we could go grave digging.” Her lower lip juts out in a pout and she vehemently disagrees when he claims that he was holding up five fingers, “You can’t count, that’s all. But, I still love you! And I didn’t conjure anything. I cast a protection spell!” Before he can argue, the witch sprints off through the fog in the direction of the storage shed. It will take Tiber a bit to catch up with her, given his battered leg. Once he comes upon the witch, he will find that she’s fumbling with the padlock on the door and muttering some unsavory words in Sylvan. “It’s -not- a castle!” Lana states the obvious and turns to look at Tiber, her gaze dropping to the obvious bite mark that tore his pants, “What happened to you?” A bat swoops low and just misses their heads as it flutters off into the night and it sounds as though the graveyard is coming to life! Scratching sounds of dirt being dug meet the groans of the undead and somewhere close by a woman screams. Lana exchanges a look with Tiber and motions for him to come and pick the lock as she’s too disoriented. The shrill scream of the woman fades away as a squelching sound fills the air, as though someone is drinking her blood.

Tiber’s face drops at the resistance. A party pooper? Really? He stares at Lanara dumbfounded. “We can’t go grave digging if–” he cuts off because she is saying that she loves him and sprints off. “Lanara Issapsycho Lowell!” He puts on a stern tone, but she is quick and relentless. He runs after her and skips while he runs as his leg is in pain. Once he catches up to the elf, he leans a hand on the door of the shed and hovers over her. “You think?! I’ve been telling you these things the whole time!” When she looks at his leg, his face falls to a flat line before a bat flies over their heads. “Damnit!” He cringes and the groans throughout the graveyard grow. Dirt moves. Bats squeak. A woman in the distance shrills a scream. Fight or flight mode turns on and Tiber is booty bumping Lanara out of the way. “Move, loopy,” he is waiting for the bap on that one, but there is no time because he needs to pick a lock. He reaches for his coin pouch and slips out a lockpick that he usually carries just in case before slipping the needle in the hole of the lock. Some of the groans get louder and then there is a clink of the lock before the pad falls off. He rips the door open and shoves the Kelvarian in first before himself and closes the door and holds it tightly. He looks around, not sure what he can see. Amber eyes glow in the dark. “Can’t you do some witchy thing and fix it?” Probably a bad move. “I don’t feel protected!”

Lanara scowls at Tiber’s obvious annoyance with her antics but it’s not really her fault that things are going wrong. Their carriage overturned and they were abandoned in the middle of a graveyard in the city of the undead at night. “I have a concussion, Tiberius Canbeajerk Lowell!” Two can play at this game of insults, she thinks, before she’s pushed out of the way, “Sure… Poopy.” She may be loopy and crazy but -he- is the true party pooper! It’s supposed to be their honeymoon and this is far from romantic, but for some reason it strikes the witch as funny. Throwing back her bleeding head, she bursts into a fit of contagious giggles as she all but falls into the safety of the shed. Sitting on an overturned crate, her loud laughter continues and is sure to draw unwanted attention. Lana mistakes Tiber’s question for magic because he can’t see, rather than thinking that he wants help barring the door. She whispers an archaic spell and a ball of light rests upon her palm and illuminates the interior of the shed. “Ta-da!” She’s pretty proud of herself for being useful and doesn't notice that there is a small window at the rear of the shed. Lanara has just put a spotlight on their location. If Tiberius didn’t feel protected a moment ago, he definitely is going to feel unsafe now! “It sounds like the groans are coming closer, doesn’t it?”

Tiber leans up against the door and faces her. Was she laughing prior to? Was this funny? “Really glad you recognize that you have a concussion now rather than -believing- your husband from the start.” She is still all smiley and giggly on that crate, and he cannot help but chuckle because… they are literally hiding in a shed from undead on their honeymoon. The shed fills with laughter at the ridiculousness of it all until she shines the light with a loud ‘ta-da’. His cackle stops short, as he notices the window and he hears the hymn of the undead getting louder. “Lanara!” He whispers in a tight hush before going over to the crate to start trying to wave the ball of light away. He even blows air on it like a candle in a panicked state. “Put it out! Put it out! There’s a window!” He then remembers he had not bolted the door and he back pedals to press his back against it again in a frantic state. “We need a game plan. We run for it?” His leg was not in great shape for that, but he would have to try, right? “I don’t even know what direction we are in! There is a man on my hitlist.” The driver.

Lanara slaps her knee with one hand as she continues to cackle, while her other hand holds the bright orb. Tiber comes over to blow out the light and she shakes her head, groaning as another wave of nausea strikes. “I think I’m going to be sick…” The man races over to the door to hold it in place as something forcefully tries to push it open and gain entrance. There’s banging coming from outside all of the walls and Lana sends off the element of light, even though it’s pointless as they’ve already been spotted. The witch walks over to the tiny window and tries to see what’s going on in the graveyard, but she cannot see through the fog. The space is too small to squeeze out of, so that’s not an option. Tiber is suggesting that they make a run for it but he is limping and Lana can barely think straight, let alone offer him a shoulder to lean upon as they make their way through a sea of fog and uncertainty. “We can go down or out… But we can go up!” The witch glances up at the wood paneled ceiling, “We can loosen the boards and climb up on the roof. I can try and call Rude-Off! It’s a long shot, but he hasn’t seen me in a while so if he hears my plea, he may drop in.”

Tiber is only praying Lanara doesn’t keel over on the floor at her nausea. He knows her head is hurting and that she needs a doctor. The banging on the door pushes the Catalian, but he keeps hold on the door. She is talking of going down or out and then up? Clearly she is out of her brain… wait… Up. He looks up with the Kelvarian. The man takes the crate she was sitting on and shifts it over towards the door. It’s heavy enough as a barrier. “Quick!” The man finds an old broom. Probably to dust off the graves and he shoves the handle up to break the wood above to create a hole. “Here babe,” he would hoist her up first so she could climb out and he would follow suit by using the crate and reaching up to pull himself up on top of the roof. He looks down and sees several undead swarming the small shaq. “We’ll see if the reindeer even takes me. If not, send someone back for me. Also, we’re headed to the nearest clinic. Preferably somewhere where there are not any bloodsuckers.”

Lanara scowls when Tiber grabs hold of a broom because there’s no way that she can fly that thing in her condition. Plus, it’s coated in dirt and debris and she doesn’t want to stick it between her legs. “It’s not a magic broom-” She presses her lips together as he uses the handle to poke holes in the ceiling of the shed. Thankfully, the undead don’t really rely on their sense of hearing so it’s unlikely that any of them will clamber up towards the top of the shack. Lana smiles at Tiber when he holds her in his arms and she sways in place, as though they are two kids sharing their first dance at a school function. She has this dazed look in her eyes and is humming one of Augustus Rivers greatest hits when she realizes that they’re supposed to be escaping. “Oh!” Lana kneels on the roof and is careful of where she moves, because with her luck she’d end up falling back into the shed. The herd of undead rush towards the door and push it open, mere seconds after Tiber pulls himself to freedom. The witch pulls Tiber next to her and closes her eyes, focusing all her energy on a foul mouthed reindeer that is likely chasing after a doe or stealing oatcakes from an unsuspecting farmers barnhouse. She must make a connection, because her eyes open and she silently nods. Aside from that miniscule bit of affirmation, Lana looks up at the stars and rests her head against Tiber’s shoulder. Streaks of blood stain the fabric of his shirt and although she wants to put up a fight against going to the doctor, she knows she better. She doesn’t want their honeymoon to be cut short because of a head injury.

Tiber is giving a great questioning gaze at his injured wife. Is she swaying? She is humming to his music and he is shoving her up and out the roof. Once they are both there, he slips an arm around her to keep her steady as she stares up at the stars. His gaze falls on her… dazed, bloody, cuckoo, but he loves her and there is not much he can do as she forces the call to Rude-Off. The two linger together on top of the shed for a while. Who knows if the rude animal would appear. They are there for an hour or two. He wants to give up. Perhaps a person who tends graves would walk by, or… the driver from the carriage would come back for the wreckage? All he can hear is gnashing and groaning until a wild reindeer flies and appears and lands with a hard thud. “Get on losers, thanks for ruining my evening. What happened to her?” The reindeer looks at Tiber, “Maybe not you.” The reindeer contemplates. “Fine. Only because she’s bleeding out. Hurry up, I haven’t all day!” The last time this reindeer would do a favor for the couple. Tiber helps Lanara on and before Tiber’s even barely on, the reindeer takes off where Tiber has to catch himself and pull himself up. This was quite the evening. The reindeer heads down to the nearest clinic that was not in Vailkrin. Kelay before the couple would have their next adventure in Craughmoyle.