RP:Freedom Is Never Given, It Is Won

Summary: Lanara heads to a charity ball on the arm of Alastor Ambers, while Tiber infiltrates The Basement and frees the imprisoned test subjects that have been forced into a life of lycanthropy. Naturally, things don't go according to plan and chaos unfolds! Bjorn, the guard, has been bitten and will end up turning into the very same beast that he has been trained to protect others from. Ezra, the teenager, sustains fatal wounds and gets to see the sunlight once last time. Tiber faces off against Ambers and vengeance is finally served! The couple leads the troupe of six to Cenril, where they hope they will be safe.

Part of the Lunar Tides and Silver Linings Arc

~ Getting Ready For The Ball ~

Lanara had left the comfort of the Falling Star Inn at the break of dawn, having little to no sleep due to the events that had transpired in the last day and a half. Tiber, her twin flame, had witnessed the cruelness that went on behind the closed doors of The Basement. He had laid his hypnotic amber hues upon Alastor Ambers, the deviant behind all of the madness, the psychopath that had tortured him in his youth and inflicted the Catalian with lycanthrope. Tiber’s mood had significantly changed since walking through the halls under the guise of being a newly hired security guard, and the flashbacks had consumed his emotions. Memories that had originally been wiped clean had resurfaced as the male took in the isolated cells, the innocent test subjects, the sickening serum that would forever alter their destiny, and the lack of morality amongst the workers. Last night, after their shift, Tiber had dropped the coolness he showed the rest of the world and confided in Lanara, as he had finally connected all the missing pieces from his past. Their room had become stifled with sorrow, but the witch held the lycan close, listening to him pour his heart out and vowing to help him get vengeance on those that would dare harm the man that she loves. Promises are everything in Lana’s world, and so the two had hatched a plan on how best to confront Alastor and how to free the others that were experimented upon.

Opening the door to one of the swankiest boutiques in Venturil, Lanara walks with purpose, taking in the look and feel of every overpriced evening gown and imagining how it would look on her form. Part of their ‘plan’ included the witch accompanying Alastor to a charity event in Gualon, and although she loathes the idea of being his arm candy, she knows that she must carry on as though she is a naive employee whose main purpose in life is to please her outrageously demanding boss. “The psycho had me holding a coral snake…” She is cussing up a storm and muttering beneath her breath, which draws the attention of the shopkeep. “Coral? I -have- heard it’s all the rage this season, but unfortunately we don’t have anything in that shade at the moment.” Lana feigns a smile, irritated by the fact that it’s ridiculously early and she hadn’t had her coffee yet, and also because the saleswoman had the audacity to eavesdrop on her incessant rambling. “I will take the most expensive piece you have on the rack that is suitable for a black tie affair. Also, I will need an earring and bracelet set to match.” She would be sure to keep her hourglass pendant around her neck, as it’s the one thing she cannot do without these days, whether it goes well with her ensemble or not. A few moments later the gown is wrapped, the silver jewelry is tucked into a fancy clutch, and a pair of high heels is placed in a box. The witch doesn’t even question the cost, as one cannot put a price on sweet revenge.

A few hours later Lanara arrives in Xalious and rents the finest room at the Dragon’s Head Inn, mainly because she doesn’t want the carriage to pick her up at her true residence in Cenril, nor does she want anyone to suspect that she’s rooming with Tiber in Venturil, as it could blow their cover. Once inside of her suite, she busies herself by taking a long soak in the bathtub and shaving her legs. Next, she paints her fingernails and toenails a pale shade of pink with a white line at the tip, and she splashes perfume on her neck and wrists. Going for a smokey effect on her eyes, Lana applies a thin layer of makeup on her face, and traces her lush lips in a sangria stain. Her long hair is left to hang loose and long, though she applies some shine spray and scalding hot towels to her head so that the strands are pin straight and not a single hair is out of place. As the time arrives to put on the dress, she inhales sharply upon undoing the wrapping and runs her fingers over the fine fabric. It’s one of the most beautiful gowns she has ever seen, and it’s likely the last one she will ever wear, as she is in her final days and it’s only a matter of time before she succumbs to the curse. Clad in a form fitting burgundy evening gown that cinches at her slender waist and has a sloping back, Lanara Banks is a sight to behold. She turns this way and that, admiring the way the fabric flatters her svelte form, and she secretly wishes that it was Tiber taking her to the fundraiser tonight, rather than Ambers. The last step in preparing for the event is to step into her three inch silver heels that have swirls of glitter embroidered on the toes, and to latch the earrings and necklace about their correct place. A stiletto dagger and a tube of lipstick are tossed into the clutch, because a lady never knows when one will come in handy! Lana then takes a seat and breezes through a new leaflet that had been left behind from the last person that rented the room, as she waits for Alastor and the carriage to arrive.

Upon hearing that a carriage is awaiting her arrival, Lanara grabs her clutch, takes one last assessing glance in the mirror, and steps out from the tavern. Alastor Ambers stands before the door to their ride, extending an arm and offering assistance to the woman, as he knows how to play the part of a gentleman rather well. He doesn’t comment on Lana’s obvious beauty, nor does he reply to her smile in kind, he simply helps her into the carriage and closes the door once he is also inside. The man has never desired anything other than his work, so the woman from Kelvar is mostly ignored as the horses take off for Gualon. Once they are near the hall that’s hosting the fundraiser for the orphanage, Alastor turns to Lanara and speaks softly, “We are almost there… I expect you to remain at my side for the duration of the event, save for when I rise to give my speech. You will applaud, seem moved by my words, and you will wait for me at the base of the steps to congratulate me in front of the audience. If I am to introduce you to anyone, you are to be polite! Curtsy to the females and allow the males to kiss your hand, and smile at every child that passes your way. You are not to eat -anything- with your fingers, and you must only sip at champagne, nothing stronger. Should my brother show up, you will greet him as if meeting for the first time. I don’t care what you two do after the event, but for this evening, you are solely -my- date. If you require the ladies room, you must give me at least ten minutes notice so that I can escort you to that general area, and I will wait until you are finished.” He pauses, noting the semi-glare in those big brown doe eyes, “I’m sure you know all of these things, but this is a big night for me, and I need to know that I can trust you to behave.”

Lanara dislikes being spoken to as though she is a child, but she tries her damnedest not to appear too offended and merely nods in response to Alastor’s outrageous accusations. Did he think she was a gorilla that had escaped from the zoo and was attending her first ball?! Why did she have to be led to and from the bathroom?! How come Ambers trusted her with his ‘experiments’ in the lab, but wasn’t sure if she could be relied on at a fundraiser for kids?! Lana is seething inside as she digs her nails into her clutch, imagining how she could pull out her dagger and slit the man's throat. It nearly brings a smirk to her lips and Alastor narrows his gaze as she reassures, “We will have a lovely time and I’m sure your speech will be wonderful. I can’t wait to meet your fellow business associates.” The carriage comes to a halt and the couple exits, pausing outside so that Lanara can link her hand through the crook in Alastor’s arm, before they head inside.

The lavish affair goes off without a hitch, as Lana doesn’t have a single bite of food, and only sips at a single glass of champagne. She goes through the motions of being the doting date, and she laughs at all Alastor’s attempts at humor. The male has a negative comment about everyone in the room it seems, though when faced with that person, he shifts as rapidly as a chameleon and is suddenly introducing her to another ‘esteemed’ colleague. Lanara can hardly keep up with the dozens of faces she sees, but she makes it a point to remember a few names, because maybe Tiber would want to take out any others that were related to Alastor. One male in particular, Oswald Griffinday, asks her a lot of questions about her animal empathy and hints that he holds an interest in combining the genes of reptiles and humans. Later in the evening, Alastor gives a boring speech, but Lanara is his biggest fan as she applauds and encourages the others to give the man a standing ovation. Alastor is so pleased with her behavior that he allows her a potty break, where Lana uses the time to send a silent plea to the Goddess, as she hopes that everything's going as planned back at the facility. She refreshes her lipstick and puckers up at the mirror, “It’s showtime.”

All it took was the muttering of a few sentences in Alastor’s ear, and before she knew it, they were leaving the event much earlier than anticipated. They were on their journey back to the laboratory as she had offered to ‘donate’ some of her blood to further the crazed man's research. He’s extremely chatty about how eager he is to drain the crimson from her arm, and Lana obediently nods her head and smiles at all the right times, continuing with the facade that she’s all about ‘helping’ his noble cause to rid the lycan species from the realm. Lanara had thought she’d have difficulty in convincing Alastor to leave the party and head straight to work, but the promise of her unique powers left little room for debate. It dawns on her as they pass by the Falling Star Inn that she may not make it tonight, that all of the test subjects, Tiber, and herself could very well die going up against Ambers. Her heart beats wildly as she hopes she isn’t making a mistake in aiding Tiber, especially as just being on the same premises as Ambers had tore open old wounds. Lana’s intentions were pure from the very start, but she hates seeing him in any sort of pain, especially as she won’t be alive much longer to deal with the aftermath. Would her wolf recover emotionally from all of this? Is a pack formation even possible at this point? The witch studies Ambers from her sideline of vision, realizing that she had gone from employee to bait in a matter of an hour, and a shiver runs down her spine.

~ Getting Ready For A Brawl ~

The final evening had come. Perched on the hillside had been that familiar shadow that had stalked for days. He sat with that honey gaze; one that sunk down towards the building below. His heart palpitated deep within his chest as he sat in anticipation for the right time. The sun had to hit a certain mark of the day, and although Lanara said it would be risky to sit so close to the building, Tiberius had blocked out his girlfriend’s words. There were too many rules. Move at a certain time, make sure the guards come out alive, make sure you are careful. Why were there so many expectations for him when she was the one who concluded that Alastor Ambers had to be wiped from Lithrydelian history? Eyes trace the sun as it sets to the west to create amber skies. Time. It was time. The man, who is dressed in leather garb and that sits on the hillside, rises to his feet and strides down the hill as if he had been collecting bounties tonight. There, however, would be no coin invested in tonight’s game.

With the secrets kept from the Kelvarian witch, came a purchase in his freetime. While the witch had been busy at ‘work’, Tiberius was scoring some odds and ends for the final evening that was to come. One oddity was a bottled potion that had a vibrant green color to it--the guy who sold it to Tiber said something about a spider and floral substances with some other magical icy ingredient to make a form of explosive potion. The man keeps the bottle pressed in his palm as he approaches the two guards who are about to give Tiberius a nod before the lycan throws the bottle against one of the guard’s feet. The potion that is thrown shatters and blows--ice fragments split from the potion and a shard slices one of the guard’s hands while the guard other is swinging blindly from the icy, snow blocking his face. Not the type of explosion Tiber was hoping for, but good enough to cause a distraction. The guard with the blown hand begins to shrill as he falls to his knees in pain. “Back up, back up!” is echoed through the air and automatically Tiber is swifting himself around to place a hand over the shrilling guard’s mouth and nose to block his airway. The blind guard, however, reaches for the silver dagger in his hilt to swing his hand towards Tiber’s face. Instead of the blade scraping against Tiberius’ face, the knuckles knock Tiber right in the nose causing his nose to glow a red hue while blood oozes. With one stunned hit, Tiber drops the suffocated guard before reaching aggressively towards the blinded guard. The Catalian reaches for the guard’s hand to take the blade to stab himself… the guard is stunned enough for Tiberius to break away and swiftly move into the way of the building.

Through the dark hallways, the man sways from the blow he took to the schnoz, and with the sway, the man takes a sharp left to move away from the guard that had been straight ahead flirting with a female guard. Merging to get to The Basement laboratory had been easy, except when it came to Bjorn who was bouncing the entrance to the lab. “Ryson, hey dude! Oh--whoa, what happened to your nose?” In a beat, Bjorn is cracking skulls with the blonde before falling backwards into the wall to let Tiberius through the door. Tiber is hazy at this point from the nose busting, and the skull cracking and while he strides sideways into the lab, he finds himself leaning over a table to catch his double-vision. Droplets drip on the table until he could hear a voice, “Get up!” a female’s voice. Violet Virgwyn. “Hey, get up already!” Her voice would yell at him through the bars. Tiberius knew he did not have a lot of time for this, so he slid his body off of the table as he knocked down a couple documents. He reaches for his keys that dangle on his belt and reaches for the master key to the cells. He instantly opens Violet’s who quickly reaches for the keys herself as the teen notices the man is in a hazed state for the time being.

The edgy, silver-haired teen goes to each cell and unlocks the door, and with each opening, a lycan pops out for back-up: Celeste, Ezra, Corrine, Tybalt, and then Greyson. By the time Greyson is the last one out, two more guards are on the way--besides Bjorn. Greyson Briars watches Tiberius before he is let out of that cage, and once the man is released, he is quick-stepped to the blonde before grabbing the back of Tiber’s hair. “You better wake up -now- and get us out of here.” He would push Tiberius forward aggressively into another wall which instinctively knocks Tiber back into his senses to stare at the man with the greyish-blue, intense gaze.

Guard one: a black-haired, blue-eyed girl named Jessica aka, The Basement flirt. She comes through the door, and pulls out two silver daggers. Her face appears stern and as if she had been trained for this very day, for she was. Jessica is sliding across the waxed floor to swipe a lycan from under their feet. Of course with an arm because Alastor Ambers would want some of these lycan's alive for the takings of their new serums. The woman swipes Violet from under her feet and the teen tumbles back onto the floor. For Jessica, because of size, it was best to go for the younger ones first. “Time to put the little princess to rest.” Jessica reaches for a needle full of serum to knock the teen out. Jessica begins to jab at Violet, but then the serum that is held in the guard’s hand begins to shake as the liquid within the serum begins to bubble on the inside, and with the pulse of the liquid, the needle in a beat moves with force and sticks into Jessica’s chest. In Jessica’s peripheral, Celeste stands with a hand forward as she had been the one manipulating the liquid within the syringe. Wide-eyed, Jessica looks down at Violet who is glaring at the guard, and the teen shoves a hand up to press down the plunger. The serum is injected into Jessica’s chest, and the guard collapses limply to the floor on top of Violet. The serum had reached Jessica’s heart and had done a lot more than put her to sleep. In the meantime, Celeste moves to help Violet to her feet.

Guard two: a thicker man that comes in with a whirl in his head with a ‘what-the-hell-is-happening’ expression. A guy nicknamed “The Hammer” because of the reputation of strength the man held. The bearded man comes in with a weapon ready, for there was a goal, “The Hammer” was going to try to kill every lycan in the room. Especially for killing the hot eye-candy known as Jessica. The Hammer was getting somewhere, and he was -sure- he was close to a date with the woman before -this- happened. For a heftier man, the guard moves at great speed, and he his charging towards the nearest person which is Corrine. The man throws a fist forward to knock a blow against the woman before throwing his other hand which is now being gripped tightly by Greyson Briars. The grip from Greyson throws the guard off and the handle of his blade flies behind him to knock Greyson in the face. Although Greyson takes the back-hand, Greyson instantly jumps on the bigger guy’s back. “Ryson!” He screams at Tiberius to have the Catalian come back to reality.

‘Ryson!’ who was Ryson? Tiber, although now standing from bouncing off of the wall Greyson pushed him into, was still as he watched the events. ‘Ryson!’ is echoed again throughout the lab, and suddenly the commotion that surrounds the lab connects to Tiber’s thoughts. Greyson had been battling The Hammer while Corrine had been dodging some thrown hands her way. “It’s Tiberius!” Why does that matter, Tiber? It does not. The blonde is finally getting his bearings, and he comes up to pull Corrine away from The Hammer. A punch is thrown from The Hammer that nails Tiber in the jaw-line, but that did not phase the man because, right now, Tiber is kicking The Hammer for the guard to lose his footing. The Hammer tumbles out of the lab and into the hallway near the exit Tiberius had his eyes on. The blade from the guard is dropped and Tiberius hollers at Greyson, “Grab it!” But instead of Greyson, Corrine is already on it as she follows Greyson, Tiber, and The Hammer out the lab door. The journalist looks at The Hammer. “You smelly low life!” She shouts before shoving the dagger against The Hammer while Tiber and Greyson keep a solid hold on the large man. The dagger moves repeatedly over and over again until The Hammer lay lifeless, but this was not the end because behind Corrine had been Bjorn lunging after her from behind.

Bjorn: the man with the black hair and the hazel-green eyes. He had been taller as Tiber and Greyson had been in stature. The man was lean, and around the same age as Tiberius. Bjorn’s hands reach out and latch onto Corrine’s shoulders to pull her down backwards. “Honestly, you have been quite the ball-buster, lady!” Honestly pulling Corrine to the ground was giving the man a way to get to ‘Ryson’ because Bjorn felt betrayed by the blonde man. He thought that Tiber really wanted a tight friendship, okay? Perhaps there was a soft heart in Bjorn, but one that coated himself in humor as well. “I thought your name was Ryson!” He called across to Tiber who had been reaching to pull for a Corrine. This whole situation was a crap show. There, however, had been a loud scream from behind back in the lab...

Ezra Leoralai was the quiet one of the bunch. The one with the thoughts internal rather than expressed forward like the rest. The day Tiber first saw the teen, Ezra had been in silent misery. While in the orphanage, most passerby's admitted that Ezra had been one of a ‘lack’ of personality, but truly it was a sign of defense towards the people who came to interview him for adoption. He had been a teen. Angsty. Quiet. Just wishing to get through the orphanage and get past the false hopes of adoption. The day he had been held in captivity was the first day he had been locked in the cage of “The Basement”. The young adult had been in shock, and angry because he had been days away from being free from the orphanage. He had been seventeen, and in two days--in the moment--he would be eighteen. Released from the orphanage. The day he had been trapped, he realized something, he was not meant to live the life that he had thought out for himself. The Gods had other events planned for him, and he knew what he had to do today. At this moment Corrine was being thrown down, and he teen looked back to Violet who had been gathering Celeste and Tybalt before she made eye contact with him. Between the two, there had been an emotion of ‘know’ between them, and Violet had been about to reach out for the teen to stop him before the scream unleashed itself.

Ezra blinked and eyes began to glow in the fury he felt. Ezra knew that this was the final chapter of his life, and for the first time, Ezra was living up to the importance that he longed for. To take down the last guard--for Tiber. For Lanara. For everyone. They would all escape. Be free--whether he was there or not. It was a risk he was willing to take. The boy bolts at an endurance he never knew he would be able to inherit due to the curse he was under before throwing a blow towards the back of Bjorn’s head, and wrapping his own arms around the guard’s neck. Bjorn shook the teen, but with the abnormal strength Bjorn had been slowly losing this fight. “You little mute bastard!” He shouts as he tries to throw the boy off of him.

“Ezra, stop!” Violet calls from across the lab as she grips Tybalt’s hand closely and steadily to keep the little one safe. “Stop!”

Bjorn is able to reach, at least, for the silver dagger. The blade that catches a glimpse of candlelight's around them. The world almost goes silent with the rest of the crew when Bjorn makes the swing that is close to shred Ezra open. Ezra, however, grabs a hold of the arm before the blade pierces him and out of rage, bites into the arm flesh of Bjorn to stun the guard.

“Ahh!” Bjorn shoves his arm in Ezra’s mouth further to twist and pry his arm away. Ezra’s teeth are somehow sharp and drag across the skin to cut Bjorn open. The guard screams as he feels the saliva and venom pulse through his bloodstream. “You just bit me! You did -not- just bite me! You’re -dead- you psycho, werewolf, blood-sucker, weirdo hybrid!” The man’s face scrunches before the blade is hesitantly thrown across the teenage boy’s chest and this time, Bjorn is able to strike the boy in a deep, long slash over his abdomen before he drops his own blade. Because right now, Bjorn is feeling the venom pulsing through him and he is about to go into full, panic and pained agony. The venom would be slow, he knew. Ezra’s face, in the meantime, grows into a shocked, wide-eyed state as his stomach feels hot and wet. His stomach pulses, and immediately, the teen drops to the ground.

“No! Ezra!” Violet screams and is almost in hysterical tears from across the way. Celeste is also in a haze of panic as the three of them--Violet, Celeste, and Tybalt--run over to the teen.

“Get him out of here. He does -not- need to die in this hell-hole!” Tiberius yells at the three. “Get him outside, now! Take Tybalt too before anyone else comes! Lanara should be back soon, and she should be able to help once she reaches the hillside.” No. No she would not be able to help, for this blow had been too fatal. Tiberius Lowell knew. Ezra’s blood had been dripping everywhere, and the chemical from the silver would be now in the teenager’s bloodstream.

Violet, Celeste, and Tybalt do what they are told and are dragging Ezra by his armpits down the side hallway towards the exit of the building. Tybalt taking parts of Ezra’s shirt to press onto the bleeding as the two women move the teenager. This had to be too traumatic for the little child, but he stays strong as they drag Ezra away. Meanwhile, Bjorn is screaming in shock and pain. The shrill is blood-curdling due to the anxiety and pain that wafts from the dark-haired guard. The booming voice echoes through the laboratory, and in this moment, Tiberius knows that this was -not- good. There is a grim wave in the atmosphere. Lanara had been right, the Catalian should have made sure the guards survived.

“Get him out, now!"

~ Freedom Isn't 'Free' After All ~

Tiber :: “I don’t care! Get him out, -now-!” Was the last demand that echoed from the blonde male lycan. The plan of letting the captives go had been a messier situation than the lycan had planned. Wounds. Death. Chaos. Let the situation go to show that Tiberius always led situations in a sloppy way. In the distance, the sound of wailing could be heard. A deeper voice that appeared to be in agony. Around Tiber had been a couple of lifeless bodies from familiar guards that the disguised man had worked with. Amber eyes would watch as Greyson and Corinne held the guard Bjorn tightly to drag him out the nearby exit with the others who had escaped. Once the three were gone and the sounds disappeared with the distance, the Catalian looked down towards a lifeless face before pulling out the dagger that was used to end the guard. He then moved back through the underground halls of The Basement. An arm lifted to trace a finger across his bloodied nose after a right hook caught him in the nose. Somehow, Tiberius managed to make it out cleaner than some of the others who left the building. The man strides through the laboratory and takes a slow walk around the perimeters before taking that dagger in his hand and dipping it in the blue solution from several days prior. Feet move until he finds himself lifting himself onto a nearby work-table to sit on. He keeps his elbows on his knees and he lazily stares at the poisoned blade--that could seriously tranquilize him if he was not careful. Though, in the eyes of the beholder, rested a darker vengeance while he waited for the owner of the laboratory.

Lanara and Alastor exit the carriage as it comes to an abrupt stop before the shelter, and as the male turns to pay their driver, the witch takes in the scene that awaits them. There is so much blood just a few feet from the entrance, and she can swear she sees a hand just lying in the grass a short ways off. She swallows and takes a hesitant step forward, knowing that she has to maintain the facade of being a loyal employee just a little longer. Internally, she’s cringing, because Tiber had promised her that the staff would be free to go, and those that were to put up a fight would be either knocked out or tossed into one of the holding cells. No one was supposed to be seriously injured or killed, despite Alastor Ambers, of course. Still dressed to the nines in a floor length evening gown, a royal deep burgundy in color, and draped over her svelte form as though it had been designed solely for the witch, Lanara peers over her shoulder at Alastor once the carriage exits the premises. “I think something happened here, Doctor.” Silver heels click against the pavement as she walks alongside the male, horrified by all the gore that leads them into their workplace. “Should we split up?” Lanara knows where Tiberius is waiting, and she hopes that the test subjects didn’t overtake her lycan, because if even the slightest hair on his head was harmed, all of Venturil would taste the wrath of the witch. Without waiting, she turns on her heel, only to be painfully grabbed by the wrist and practically drug down the main corridor, “You are coming with me! We should be safe in the lab… And if one of the subjects is on the loose, you can work your little magic and disable them, right?” He is -greatly- upset that two of his guards seem to be missing, there is blood throughout the building, and he hadn’t wanted to attend the charity event in the first place! “This breach is -somehow- your fault. You will pay for this if any of my work has been tainted, in any way! But first… I want to get some samples of your blood… While you are still alive.”

Tiber twirls the handle of the dagger in his fingers until he hears the aggressiveness of the man he is waiting for. Tainted words of future threats coat his ears, and with that lazy dagger, the patient lycan slides to his feet. Should Tiber sneak attack the doctor? No… the lycan stops his impulsive thoughts. Although a rage in Tiber’s mind could get out-of-control, he decides that looking at the doctor face to face was his best option. Time ticks as the two pace through the building. Alastor Ambers was on a mission for Lanara’s blood, and normally, the Catalian would be concerned, but he knew that Ambers wanted the empath alive for the taking. Tiber knew that Alastor Ambers could be thrown off in the lab, and Lanara would be okay. She would be okay. He would have to trust his uneasy gut on this one. Once Alastor comes into the clearing, amber eyes would almost glance towards Lanara, but the faulty act he puts on stops him from looking her way. Instead, he pastes his eyes on the doctor, himself. “I’ve been waiting. How was the conference, doc? Did you drink lots of fancy champagne while you talked about all your precious orphans?” There was mockery that came from the Catalian, and his eyes kept steady on the dipped blue blade.

Lanara tries desperately to wrench her arm from Alastor’s grasp, but her attempts are futile as she’s not exactly dressed for combat, coupled with the fact that she’s on borrowed time and her strength has greatly declined over the past few weeks. “Let me go! What are you insinuating?! That -I- have something to do with ‘whatever’ is going on?!” The sick scientist doesn’t reply to the witch, as he doesn’t have all the answers, but he’s fairly certain that her recent employment is some sort of set up. First, Leopold doesn’t return from her homeland. Next, an interview is set up from that sleazeball Skitch. Then, the woman offers up the chance to spill her blood for research purposes and lures him back to work. All of those factors have led to the catastrophic events that had happened in his absence, and he cannot believe he had been so naive to believe that the pretty witch was nothing more than a bitter ex-fiance of an infamous lycan. Yet again, he had been blinded by science, hoping to further his research, and in doing so it had put him in this situation. The facility is deathly quiet, a few dead guards loiter the once sanitized environment, and there is a strange chill in the air. Alastor gives Lana a shove to the side once he enters The Basement and comes face to face with the one behind all of this madness. Tiberius Lowell. Their eyes lock and as Tiber mocks his ‘devotion’ to the orphans, Alastor crosses his arms and tries to assess if any of his studies had been disturbed. The subjects had been freed, that’s obvious, but had the serums been tampered with, or his precious notes? Alastor clenches his jaw as the time ticks by, before he gives in, “I am a man of probability and I’m guessing that your application for being a security guard had little to do with you wanting to protect my life’s work. And so, your worth to me has greatly diminished.” He shifts his gaze to Lanara, “As has yours, Miss Banks.” The little hussy had him fire his best guard and must have been plotting for months to get this far! He paces around the area, glaring at Lowell with hatred in his gaze, trying to place where he possibly could have met the male. “Fine. For the sake of entertainment, we can have a little conversation. But that probability I spoke of earlier? The odds of you two leaving here alive are less than nil! So… What do you want? Who are you?”

Tiber keeps his eyes on his own blade now. The laboratory had made it into one piece on at least one side of the room. Notes were still present. Serums were mostly still sitting on shelves. This had been one place where Tiber wanted the lot to move and get out of the building entirely. Tiber could have cared less about the serums, for he knew Alastor was not going to make it out alive. The double-sided confidence in each of these men. Although Alastor had cracked the story on Lanara Banks and her true identity to this place, the lycan still had not looked at her. Perhaps it was the level of disappointment. Promising her that he would let the guards free. He knew he could not. Too much was on the line, so… he lied to her before breaking into the place. As the doctor paces around the room, eyes slowly shift to steadily watch the man. His head does not move, only eyes. He stays in a very still position--as if he was stalking a prey. “Ah, confident in your work. Prideful.” The lycan rolls his eyes before he points the blade in odd directions. “What do -I- want? I’m glad you’re -finally- listening, Alastor, my boy,” the blade points in the man’s direction from a distance in his talkative gesture. “Afterall, you didn’t listen for… two or three years? It also appears that you -still- don’t listen. Did you have a good relationship with your mother? How broken are you?” There was a spewing of sarcasm towards the doctor as Tiberius talked. “I think you know who I am. Or you’ve become demented over the years? Maybe inhaling too many solutions in this musty old place,” the man points the tip of the blade to the ceiling and lazily twists it around in casual conversation. “I think the number… eight might ring a bell?” There was a pause as Tiber looked around the room. “Though, you appear to just be hitting the hundreds of patients. Congratulations, Doctor Ambers. I really hope you like the prize tonight for all your hard work.” Then, brows furrowed as he spit venom from his words. Alastor Ambers would know who Tiberius was because, just like Greyson Briars, Tiber was one of the tricky ones to handle when it came to lycanthrope. The teenager had a temper unlike some of the first lycans that Alastor dealt with.

Lanara had never seen this side of Tiberius and so she remains silent, but there is obvious disappointment in her gaze. The male had lied to her, and so she feels that the blood is on -her- hands. She wants to curse, to cry, to strangle Ambers with her own bare hands, but instead she stands rooted in place, feeling the guilt wash over her gussied up frame. Alastor has the audacity to smirk at Tiber’s words, for he enjoyed profiling others, and it amuses him that the ‘guard’ is blaming his need to find a cure for lycanthrope on mommy issues. However, there is a flash of pride in his gaze upon hearing that Experiment Thirteen had returned in the flesh, even if it’s by means of vengeance. “You should consider yourself lucky that you were released, your memory wiped clean of any horrors you may have gone through with the treatments, allowed to live a normal adult life.” Wryly, Alastor opens his arms and points to the spacious base of operations he has created, “Once I hit double digits the experiments were terminated after I was finished with them. But -you- became so much more, didn’t you, Thirteen?” The young male is now a full grown man, and the gears are turning in Alastor’s twisted mind. “Don’t you see? You are the reason I am so successful! My work has advanced greatly over the years, but none of it wouldn’t have gotten to this point, if it weren’t for how wonderful the serum changed you! In a sense, Thirteen, we are partners!” He chuckles and shakes his head, “I don’t understand how you managed to fool me, as I have sensors everywhere to detect a lycan’s presence, but I assume it has to do with this one?” He points to Lanara, momentarily wondering what -her- part in this story is, as he cannot recall ever having tested on anyone hailing from Kelvar. “Is she your little wolf mate, then? One of those animal activists?” As he speaks, he walks back and forth, still agitated about all that happened, though he seems to fizzle with energy at his next statement, “I have a grand idea! You can make it up to me, Thirteen! You, Lanara, and I? We will all go into business together! With both of your blood? I could probably create a cure in a matter of weeks! Isn’t that what you want? To no longer be a beast? Or perhaps you should be -thanking- me for the enhanced senses, the longer lifespan, and the immense power?” As she continues to listen to this madness, Lana clears her throat, “You want to know my part in this, you sick frack? Maybe you should ask your brother?” Painted lips curve into a sinister smile, “Leopold thought you were a fool, you know? He was the better looking, smarter, more social of the two of you… But, I’m betting you both share one thing… You will beg just like he did, before I took his life.”

Tiber smirks almost in exasperation at the man’s words. “Lucky? You ever know what it’s like to be under the full moon?” Bones snap in the man’s mind. The deformity of it all. The pain. “Normal…?” Eyes finally look towards Lanara while his hand holds up the blade that points towards Alastor, “You never told me he liked jokes, Lanara,” there was an aggressive tone to his words, but those rude words were not for her. “She just knows that people like you are disgusting with what you do.” Though, as the words of becoming a ‘team’ linger in the room. The blade lowers again, and for a small moment, there was a look in Tiber’s gaze. One of… no. Although the Catalian despised himself, there would be no hope for the other in the room if he were to cave on such an imagination. Was there a cure to lycanthrope? The question would remain unanswered as the witch makes her way into the conversation. A grin begins to form on Tiber’s wicked face that reflects Lanara’s. Tiber’s face was something unknown. Dark. Twisted. Alastor, on the other hand, falters in that moment. The smirk of amusement on his face turns into a disgusted, aggravated twitch. “You… killed Leopold? You little wench!” Alastor Ambers then moves across the room to dart for the Kelvarian elf, and instantly, the blade that Tiber had been so lazy with launches forward from his grasp to pin into Alastor’s chest. Though, of course, that would be too easy. After the blade is thrown, Tiber is on the move in his stealthy way, and the man moves in front of Lanara instantly to guard her in case Alastor pulls anything on the empath. “Lana, I love you, but you need to leave. Now. Follow the others. One of them earlier--Ezra… they need you more right now." His jaw would turn, so she could see the side of his face, and he mouths the word 'hillside'.

(Post 1 of 2) Lanara braces herself for impact as Leopold charges, ready to aim a kick at his groin, her fist towards his throat, and a sharp heel to the top of his foot. However, she needn’t prepare, because Tiber stands before her like a knight in security garb. She doesn’t swoon, nor does she leave as he orders, at least not at first. Stubborness is deeply embedded in Lana’s personality, and she feels rejection bristling at the back of her mind, as she defiantly lifts her head and glares at Tiber. The man may be a big bad wolf to others, but she sees him as her equal, and considered them to be partners. Now, he wants her to tend to the werewolves that all but -hate- her for aiding Alastor in his experiments? While he gets to enjoy all the fun back in The Basement? “No. I’m not leaving you, Babe…” She wants to stay, because sooner rather than later, Tiber will be on his own for the rest of eternity. It’s not a great loss if she perishes in the laboratory, her time is approaching, but at least they would be together. Plus, who knew the extent of Alastor’s powers?! There is an audible wail coming from the floor above, as though someone were coming back to defend their place of employment, and it’s the only thing that tears those chocolate hues away from the Catalian. “I’ll go and tend to things… Be careful.” She loves him, but she’s also peeved, so they can finish this conversation later! Lanara exits the area and tends to Bjorn, who had somehow escaped the clutch of Corrine, and she helps him back out of the facility and towards the hillside. Of course, the others aren’t all that delighted to see Lana, but she tries to explain how she is on their side. Ezra is in bad shape, and she focuses mostly on bandaging his wounds, as well as Bjorn’s. Corrine, Celeste, and Greyson are fuming at the fact that the witch is involved in any of their affairs, and they keep a close watch on her, as they bicker amongst themselves. Tybalt meekly offers Lana help, and Violet tries to shush the others, stating that they shouldn’t jump to conclusions until Tiber meets up with them.

(Post 2 of 2) Alastor had hit the ground fairly hard once the effects of the vial registered with his blood stream, though it hadn’t completely incapacitated him. Some of the tranquilizing agent had spilled as he pulled the plunger from his chest, though he is drowsy and a little disoriented as the witch and wolf converse. This rescue mission had been planned to the finest of details and he gives the couple credit, because he would expect no less from one of his greatest creations. The woman had killed his brother and it’s the driving factor that has him pushing his palms against the floor as he awkwardly sways in place. It takes him a moment to get his bearings, and he’s grateful that Lana’s fiery temper buys him a few moments to clear his head, before she exits the lab. It works in his favor as he would rather fight Patient Thirteen first, and hunt down the woman later, after he collects his work that had been set free. Plus, he plans on torturing Lanara, to find out exactly what went on with Leopold. “She’s got a temper, huh? Well. We don’t need her anyway, you and I will do fine without her around! Plus, we have a history! I truly think that we could do great things together, Thirteen! You and I…” The look of sheer hatred is evident in Tiber’s amber gaze, and Alastor realizes that the answer is a hard ‘no’ without any chance of changing his mind. “If that’s how you want to play things? Fine.” Closing his eyes for a fraction of a second, the male disappears from view, only to have teleported behind Tiber. “Boo!” A punch seeks delivery in the place where the lycans right kidney would rest, before Alastor fades into nothingness and resurfaces a few feet away. At some point he had grabbed a scalpel, and he swings wildly at Tiber, aiming to strike the male in the chest and face, “I will spill your blood and use it to further my research after you die! I will purge all werewolves from this realm! I will go down in history while you will be forgotten! I knew you were a broken child from the start, incapable of seeing a prosperous future, and so I will rid my research of such a weak test subject!” With each word comes a swish in the air, the sight of a silver scalpel, and a possible tearing of flesh, as Alastor Ambers realizes he needs to terminate Patient Thirteen.

(Post 1 of 2) Tiber finds a boiling frustration in the pit of his stomach as the witch resists his request. Although she had a point, he wanted her clear of the area. “Don’t, Lanara,” his gaze is tense, and his amber eyes reflect a soft glow as he stares at her from his side-view. His demeanor that he did not want to be defied, but he knew that there was no time to attempt to ‘put her in her place’--which normally would not be in his favor because he normally lost her battles out of love. Wailing echoes throughout the building, however, and Tiber abruptly looks up before staring at Lanara. She would know to go now, and there would be an ease when she would disappear. They were equals, but… she had already been so weak to take on the mission in the first place. When Lanara shows up to the pack, there are nothing but glares, but Ezra… along with his wounds that had been towards the gut, he had been coughing up blood. Whatever was happening with the teen lycan had been internal. Violet, the silver-haired teen would pipe up with her arms crossed against her small frame, “He got stabbed, you know. By silver. Legend has it, that’s not good for… people like us,” she makes it clear that Lanara is not trustworthy yet, but she knows there is something different about the elf before her. A lightness in the Kelvarian. In the bloodstream of Ezra, however, would be cells that were becoming poisoned… Bjorn on the other hand, would now be kept held against the ground with a hand over his mouth--struggling against Greyson and Corrine again.

(Post 2 of 2) Back at the lab, the doctor sways, and Tiber shakes his head at the pathetic attempt to swindle him again. Then again, Lanara was dying… and the only risk he could take was healing… her. Healing her with what Alastor Ambers had caused. Had the Gods been putting fate into place all this time? Was Lanara’s witchy voodoo getting to his head? “Thirteen? Bloody demented idiot doesn’t even remember my name. What? You dehumanized me in your little journal you keep? Does that make you sleep better at night?” That was a clear ‘no’ from Tiber that he would not be joining the crew. Then, in a blink, Ambers is gone from his sight. ‘Boo!’. Tiber instinctively moves, but is plunged backwards by the blow in his kidney. The man holds his side for a moment, and regains balance before the silver scalpel begins to be thrown in every direction towards him. The blade inches closer, and Tiber jumps with every ounce to get out of the way of the blade. “You’re wrong about those kids. They were teens from the start, you didn’t even give them a chance to learn that they had a future!” With every swing, there was anger that pierced Tiber’s nerves. An anger that filled his body from the words that flowed from the doctor’s mouth made his cells feel like they were separating. The blade slices against the lycan’s chest, but only tears the fabric instead of piercing the skin. In that instant, Tiberius found it hard to concentrate as the lycanthrope pulsed through his body to take over. The Catalian’s eyes glow, and a part of him begins to shift in distinct features. Bones crack, and a wolven face begins to distort Tiber’s features. Tiber finds this hard to control, and eventually limbs begin to twist into different formations. The only difference is that lycan is not just a wolf, for he only transformed part of his body. His arms had claws, his legs hand hinds, but he still had the lithe frame he normally held. The lycan roared before standing up on two legs to hover over Alastor. Claws begin to slash. Documents fly off of tables, serums clash and shatter on the ground, but Alastor moves fast through the lab. “Wicked, Thirteen. But not wicked enough,” the scalpel moves to lunge towards Tiberius again, but the lycan knocks the scalpel out of Alastor’s hands. Alastor moves to the next thing--at least to stall Tiberius for the time being. The man takes broken glass to stab the beast which gives Tiber a few jabs in his abdomen and across the side of his face. These jabs happen until Tiberius moves towards the blue solution on the table. The beast had not taken total control over Tiber yet, so claws dip into the solution before moving forth to hover and risk to slash across Alastor’s chest again, and then another on his face. This time, more tranquilizer moves through the doctor’s system causing the man to overdose. Alastor Amber sways again, slamming against shelves until he lay limp on the floor. Tiberius sways, for the solution is heavy to knock the lycan out, himself. The Catalian briskly shifts features back to his human state due to the drug in his system. “Tiberius Lowell, you asshole,” and then the man falls to the ground while the world turns black, and Tiberius falls into a deep drugged state.

(Post 1 of 2) Lanara gives a nod to Violet’s diagnosis, because she’s correct, lycan's have a serious allergy to silver, and in some cases it can be lethal. Dropping to her knees, the witch applies pressure in the correct places, mainly those in Ezra’s torso, and she knows that her attempts are futile. The light is already beginning to fade from his confused gaze, as he’s likely slipping into shock, and in moments the curtains to his life will officially close. None of this is voiced to the others, most of whom are glaring at the witch, or roughly forcing poor Bjorn to remain still and quiet. The guard is the one she should be trying to rescue, as his bites and scratches look fierce from her line of vision, though of course she needs to gently tell the others about Ezra’s rapidly deteriorating condition before she can tend to Bjorn. Nipping her lower lip, Lana lifts the bunched up shirt to take a peek and after seeing intestines, she replaces the cloth. “He’s not doing well… I’m sorry, but there isn’t anything I can do. His condition is really weak, he lost so much blood, and the silver seems to have punctured a few of his organs…” How many times had Bjorn stabbed the teen?! “You stupid bitch! This is ALL your fault! You planned this little show and now Ezra is going to DIE?! That’s it! First, I say we kill -him- for stabbing Ezra, and then we kill -her- for refusing to heal Ezra! And when that other jerk comes back…” Corrine knows to fall silent as Lanara rises to her feet, her gown coated with crimson gore, as she lunges for the journalist. It’s Greyson that steps between the women, as he extends both of his hands and gives Lana a shove so she keeps her distance, “Now is -not- the time to be arguing. I have a better plan… You all can say your goodbyes to Ezra, Lana will work on treating Guard Bjorn, and -I- will go and prepare a place to bury Ezra as I don’t know him that well. And hopefully, by then, Tiber will rejoin us and we can talk about our next step.”

(Post 2 of 2) Lanara sits lotus style on the grass, her beautiful gown ruined beyond repair, the last expensive piece of clothing that she would ever wear. The burgundy is now mingling with crimson, wrinkles are throughout the lower section of the dress, and a few chunks of fabric are missing from where she had been grabbed from an attack, or while being clutched in the throes of death. She’s not a vain elf, but she tries to focus on her own problems, the big and the small. Anything. She mainly hopes to drown out the voice of Corrine and the tearful final words that are spoken to Ezra. Lanara knows loss, and she knows it well, so she’s not surprised to find the teens already mourning the young male, as he was in a sense, their family. They all endured hardships together and even though they were confined to their own cells, they recognized when one of their own was in trouble. It’s a pack mentality, and it’s everything she could ever hope for, as that’s her parting gift to Tiber. Lowering her gaze to Bjorn’s injuries, she assesses his condition and reassuringly ruffles his hair, “You will be okay… I know it looks and feels bad, but you will recover, I promise.” She hopes he won’t reject the curse, because the books back in the apartment state that one in four people will reject the lycanthrope virus. Lana offers a faint smile, not bothering to push the man off of her, when he shifts and rests his head on her lap. Violet glances their way, Corrine is glaring at the facility, Celeste and Tybalt are each holding one of Ezra’s hands as he tries to talk to them, and Greyson is heard digging a little ways north of their location. Lanara knows in her heart that they will never accept her as one of their own, and it stings, but she also knows it’s important that they bond with Tiber. He will be their alpha, he will be the one to provide them with food and shelter, he will help them learn about life on the outside of a cage. But can he do that with Lanara in the picture? What if she rejects the change? Is he even considering turning her into one of his kind? He hadn’t even wanted her in the room a few minutes ago, and she feels a twist in her gut. Chocolate hues trail to the door of the facility as she wills her twin flame to come out the doors, she feels her heart racing as she glances again at the teens huddled around Ezra, and she feels the need to flee. “I should go. I don’t belong here.” Bjorn panics and pauses from groaning about his injuries, “Don’t. Leave. Me. And… Don’t leave him, either.” Lanara wonders how the male could guess her thoughts, but then again, being an elite soldier, he was probably trained to read facial expressions for a living. She freezes, and lifts a crimson coated finger to wipe her cheeks, which are now wet as she loses her composure. Her lips part as though she’s about to speak, but upon not knowing what to say, she remains silent.

(Post 1 of 2) Tiber :: Ezra Leoralai lies there while the rest bicker around him. The pain he had repeatedly felt began to slip away as he lay there in the grass on that hillside. Cloudy blue eyes stare wide at the trees above as he watches a few leaves blow away. The earth. It smelled of dirt, sunshine, and clean air than the must that he had been smelling in the darkness below. The rays touch his skin as he stares wide around him. In that moment, he hears Violet and her diagnosis, and in the back of his mind, he knew that he was going to pass. Internally, he never thought he would make it this far once locked away in The Basement. He remembered Celeste’s peculiar, soft face and how the first day she said that he was going to be free one day, but free was becoming a new meaning. A peaceful meaning. There had been a chill on him, but luckily the sun was there. The sun was there. And then, a pale blonde shadows the amber glow on his cheeks. Bright pale blue eyes stare into his darker grey ones. A hand forms around his own in a motherly fashion, and gentle fingertips graze his hair. “You’re brave, Ezra. Another life waits for you, a cleaner life than what you were dealt.” Ezra looks to Celeste and slowly shakes, “T-tell h-her th-thank you for letting m-me,” he coughs and blood splats cover his mouth which Celeste wipes away. “S-see the sun,” his eyes blink and his voice is very quiet, but he was clearly talking about Lanara. “I’m n-not mad. J-just, I want to sl-sleep,” he breathes out. A dying request. “I h-haven’t been a-able to for so l-long,” sleep he means. Nights terrified on what was going to happen next to him and his body. He was finally seeing hope. Peace.

(Post 2 of 2) The light had been able to crack through faintly opened eyelids. There was a heavy feeling that weighed on his head, and made his eyes feel like glue to open. The man rolls as he hears a dripping noise clash against the floor, and he watches blue drip from the side of the table. Across from his gaze, however, is a dull-like one staring into his. One that had been covered with splats of crimson. Tiber was staring into a shadowed face of death. Alastor Ambers. Arms felt like iron as he began to lift them to attempt to push himself up off the ground. It took a lot of might, for the drugs had still taken a toll on the lycan. Eventually, once he is able to stand, he is covered in the blood of his enemy. The Catalian’s head spins, and there is a clear sign that the man earned a concussion in his last raging blow. The medicine must have knocked him down, and he must have hit his skull against the tiled ground. He sways through the eerie halls of The Basement until he sees a small beacon of light which leads to the outside. Tiberius Lowell was alive. The man sways out of the building until he is able to keep his footing grounded to stare at the double-vision hill above. He takes a moment to get his surroundings before stepping forward to go for the others who wait.

Lanara is still in the same position, her rear planted on the grass, those lush lips slightly parted in awe, as Bjorn loses consciousness with his head upon her blood soaked lap. Everything seems to happen all at once then, as Greyson reappears covered in dirt, Ezra takes his final breath, and the one and only Tiberius Lowell exits the building and heads for the hill. The witch wants to leap to her feet and greet him, to smother him in her embrace and coat his cheeks in tender kisses. She also wants to slip away, run until she can’t anymore, and vanish into the darkness of the night which is soon to approach. Lana shifts Bjorn’s head, gently resting him on the grass, so that her now numb legs can move. The sun is setting in the distance, as the halo over Ezra leaves, and all of them feel a slight chill over the area. It’s time to leave, to face the new horizon, and it’s now that Lanara seems to find her ability to speak. “I know you all hate me, and I honestly don’t care, nor do I blame you. But… I didn’t do this for any of you, or for myself… Everything good that I do? I do it for him, for Tiber.” She shakily takes a deep breath, “Very soon, I will be tending to some things elsewhere and I won’t be returning. I need you all to trust Tiber, to follow his guidance, and to always look after each other. You all carry the same blood, the same nightmares, and it’s important that you stick together.” Lanara doesn’t say anything more on the matter, as she forces herself to stand and watches Tiber peering up the hill at them. Should she go to him? Would that make him look weak in front of his soon-to-be pack? Indecision racks her brain as she finds herself unable to look away from the lycan, and naturally it’s this moment that Corrine decides to erupt. “Okay. Great. Ezra is dead, the hole is dug, and Tiber took care of Ambers. Can we please kill -HER- now?! I get that she helped get us out and all that jazz, but that bitch zapped me like fifty times last week! She stabbed Greyson with an arrow! She dated Ambers’ sick brother!” The anger in her eyes hits the others like the hottest rays of the sun, as she lifts a furious finger and wags it at Lanara, “Why should we listen to -anything- she says?! How do we know that we aren’t just leaving here for an even worse hell?! I think we should kill her and go our own way.” The witch clenches her jaw, wanting very much to leave, but she refuses to budge until Tiber lets her know that he’s alright. And so, she lifts her head and carefully walks down the hill, trying her best not to slip in her high heels. Once before her lycan, she lifts a hand to brush against his cheek, “Hey… Are you okay? I was so worried about you… I didn’t think-” She doesn’t finish her sentence as the thought of the male not making it out alive is too difficult to fathom. “There’s chaos on the hill and everything I say just seems to make it worse. Ezra is dead. Bjorn lives and will likely survive the change. I think I should leave… They don’t want me near them, and I know you have a long ways to bring them.” Lana doesn’t want to split up from Tiber, but she also doesn’t want to come between the lycan and all that he worked to achieve.

Tiber stands there for beats as he stares at the group. A lifeless body that has a gentle hand of a nurturer around it along with a small child. A tall stern man trying to break the chaos. A woman with her hands set on her hips in a fit. A teen girl with her arms crossed. A jumbled, cursed man passed on the ground. Then, her. The woman comes down the hill in a luminescent glow, or maybe it was the double-vision. He could not care, nor could he care. As the witch approaches him and runs her mouth, the words flow through one ear and out the other. Even if he has a dazed gaze, a dried bloody nose, and a trickle of blood coming from the top of his head somewhere, he is still lost within her look. At the end of the day, she was safe, and although he felt the pang of disappointment with the chaos and death that had transpired, all he wanted was her. Lips lean down to kiss Lanara in a sway before he reaches for her shoulders to steady himself. “I need you,” he says slowly. “Stay.” A small, quiet command before he is reaching for her hand to lead the witch with him. “Just stay back a little, I will handle this,” for the words from Corrine were not missed. “You kill her, you’re not too far from her. Be thankful. I -made- Lanara do everything she did, so I could get close enough to kill that bastard who locked you up and experimented on you. Who brainwashed people to cause,” the man falters as he looks at the young teen who remains lifeless on the ground. Celeste is still holding the hand of the teen and whispering a silent prayer with her eyes closed. Golden eyes look at Corrine, “You have nowhere else to go, and you know Venturil guards will be all over this place. So either follow, or spend time running.” The lecture was short, brutal, and straight to the point. “Like it or not, Lanara saved your damn life even if you were prodded by needles. If you want someone to kill, try me.” In that moment, Greyson is standing next to Tiberius automatically. “Whoa, no one else needs to get killed here,” the man slowly states and then Greyson is also looking at Corrine. “Do we have to fight when we have a boy lying here like this?” The man gestures to the teen lifelessly on the ground which forces Tiberius to soften as he stares at the face of eternal sleep.

(Post 1 of 2) Lanara isn’t sure if Tiber is listening to her, as he simply stares at her face, a little bit of haze in his amber gaze. She wears a look of concern, an expression of love, and an overpriced gore covered gown, yet he still has that unmistakable look of admiration in his beautiful eyes. If she wasn’t getting death threats, she would be swooning. He has blood dripping down his face, an injured nose, and she’s fairly sure that he is suffering from a bump on the head. “Hey…” He sways a little and her arms instinctively reach out to offer support, when Tiber bends and their lips touch. Time stands still in that moment, as the couple comes to the realization that they had survived yet another ordeal. They needed each other, in times of strength, and in times of weakness. Twin flames couldn’t be extinguished once they had been ignited, and Lanara makes the decision to stay a mere second before Tiber asks her to remain at his side. “I need you, too…” She’s so small against his frame, and she casts a fearful look over her shoulder as she sees the lifeless form on the grass. She cannot help but think that -she- will be in a similar position in a matter of days, even worse, her boyfriend could have perished in The Basement. And so her voice breaks as she returns her gaze to Tiber, “I love you. I’m really glad you didn’t die in there…”

(Post 2 of 2) Their return to the group is met with a glare from Corrine, a look of indifference from Celeste and Violet, and a teary smile from the small handicapped child. Lanara gives Tiber’s hand a gentle squeeze, as him and Greyson try and make peace with Corrine. It’s obvious there isn’t any love between the witch and the writer, but for now Lana’s focus is on Tybalt. “Come here, Cutie. I have a little story I want to share with you…” She practically has to pry the boy from Ezra’s corpse, but once out of sight, he obediently takes Lana’s hand and walks over to a exspance of grass that isn’t covered in blood. They sit and the witch gently puts an arm around Tybalt, “You were such a good helper and very brave back there, I hope you know that?” She pauses as he searches her gaze for truth, “Thank you for being my assistant. We did all we could, but he’s in a better place, I promise… But! I think you have earned yourself a nickname…Have you ever heard the story about the heroic dog, Balto?” This has the boy perking up, as he isn’t used to any adults fawning over him, and fairytales are foreign. And so, Lanara keeps the boy occupied with stories about rescue missions and pound puppies, as the others lay Ezra to rest. Once the impromptu funeral is over, the pair walks over to the mound of dirt and Tybalt drops a few golden weeds they had picked onto the grave. Lana glances at Corrine, wondering if she is going to start up again, but instead the ill-mannered woman divers her gaze and speaks to Tiber. “Fine. You’re right. What’s our plan?” It seems as though the lead lycans threat had worked it’s magic.

(Post 1 of 2) Tiber longs for the witch and when she mutters that she still loves him, he falls into reassurance. “I love you, too,” he breathes out in relief. Corrine looks to fall silent, and so Tiberius takes this time to move to Ezra and give the teen a moment of silence before reaching out to assist Greyson even if the man was stumbling. He was not putting any more strain on Violet, nor Corrine--for they did their part. The whole time Celeste clutches Ezra’s hand as they walk towards the spot Greyson dug. Gently, they lay Ezra Leoralai’s body in the grave and in that moment, Celeste let’s go in a faint cry. As if a piece of her had been being lost too--as if the woman had a special ability that no one would understand. A connection to the dead around her. As they put Ezra to rest in the earth, Tiber finds his gaze on Lanara from afar as she speaks to the little boy. He stares long, and there is an ache that reaches and pulls at his stomach. The only person he had ever wanted was leaving him, so as he stares at Ezra’s body again, he closes his eyes. Even though the decision was the last resort he could ever hope for, he knew that he was selfish, and that he could not go on without not trying to save the woman he loved. Tiberius Lowell had come to a final decision internally--he would try to convince Lanara Banks to join him in the curse he inherited. The only chance she had left, for he knew he took time away from her to find another cure. The man reaches down to toss a clump of dirt on Ezra’s body. As the crowd gathers for the funeral and the witch comes near, Tiber searches for the witch’s hand as he watches Tybalt drop golden weeds on Ezra’s bed.

(Post 2 of 2) As Corrine’s words slip through his head next. He stands still before looking up at the crowd who had overheard Corrine’s words. Now all eyes had been staring at him. Him? Amber eyes glaze over each odd face in the bunch before he slowly shifts them to Lanara cautiously. Then, once he is reassured of her gaze, he would speak. “I can find a storage unit in Cenril. One close by our apartment. I think we need to lay low--Venturil guards will be looking for any type of evidence to find… us. We can find clothes, provide food, shelter. I know it will take time to trust each other, but… right now, if any of you leave, you’re going to have a hell of a time being alone running.” He scratches the side of his stubble, “And we take Bjorn too. I know what he did was unspeakable, but… if the curse takes, he’ll live in hell on his own.”

Lanara has tears brimming in her eyes as Celeste mourns over Ezra, because she knows that this fate could very well be the same for her own love story. She is dying, hopeless without a cure, and time is slipping away with every passing moment. The hourglass pendant only has a few granules of white sand in the upper portion and if one looks close enough they will see that the base carries a few scratches on the supposedly unbreakable glass. Lana isn’t one to get emotional in front of strangers, especially those that wish her dead, but she cannot help but be caught up in this moment of surreal sadness. Tiber’s hand gives her strength and she nuzzles his upper arm briefly to dry her tears, before giving it a squeeze and nodding in response to his look. It’s time for her lycan to take his place in the pack, to assert dominance, get wrapped up in leadership. This is her final parting gift to him, the only thing she ever gave him, aside from ownership of her heart. Tybalt shyly takes her other hand, and even though Corrine makes a disgusted face at the child, he isn’t easily swayed by her reaction. He’s loyal to those with good hearts, and he knows that Lana was being ‘bad’ because she had to pretend to get them to safety. A child understands what’s happening, so perhaps in time, the woman also would come to her senses. Everyone nods in agreement, Greyson is the first to thank them though, and he holds a hand out to shake both Tiber and Lanara’s. “We are indebted to you both…” Violet and Celeste cling to each other and just nod, as though they also feel the same way, and Corrine clenches her jaw and comments, “Thanks, I guess, Tiber. A storage unit isn’t exactly a palace, but I guess it will do for now…” As expected, she pretends that the witch isn’t standing right there. Lanara glances at Bjorn as the others look at him wearily, “He was only following his orders… Alastor didn’t tell us -where- he found all of you. Of course, I knew, because Tiber and I did our research and because Alastor trusted me to a point.” She speaks a little louder as Bjorn comes to, perhaps so that he can remember her words, “Those that didn’t work in the lab were told that you guys all volunteered and signed documents where you couldn’t ever leave, you gifted your body to science, and under no circumstances could the contract be voided unless by death.” Is she lying so that they will come to accept Bjorn as one of their own? Or is she telling the truth? Lana would then wait for further instructions from Tiber, before the entire group would make the journey back to Cenril.

Tiber tightens his grip around Lanara’s hand, and there was a message. A message that he was not letting go, and that he is there. Once chocolate eyes meet honey, there is a firm nod to her before he breaks forward to the rest of the crew. Greyson Briars approached the Catalian, and there was almost a reflection of himself in Greyson--except Greyson somehow had been more polite than Tiberius would ever be. Tiber feels the energy waft from Greyson. The settling trust. Now did they trust others in the pack? Well, Tiberius was thinking they would have to figure out how to gain each other’s trust in this group, for the captives were now under Tiber’s watch. A hand is outstretched and grips the man’s hand in front of him. From the clasp, there is an instant connection--an ease of knowing. Greyson Briars had been helpful, strong, and brought peace in situations. If Tiber was to trust anyone out of this group, it was the man before him. “Don’t get too sappy,” there was a smirk from Tiberius. The first smile he held in quite a while. Eyes trace Violet and Celeste who stare at the Kelvarian and the Catalian in gratitude. There was a subtle, gentle gaze from Tiber towards the two. He looks over his shoulder at Tybalt who clings to Lanara’s hand. And with Corrine, the guess of thanks is all he needs to know that she is willing to follow--for now. All eyes from the group then land on Lanara as she speaks of Bjorn, and from the words that spill from her mouth, Tiber finds trustworthiness in Lanara’s words. Even if they were faulty. “Alastor Ambers is a manipulator. Bjorn was only trapped in the madness,” he falls through to back his girlfriend up, even if he does not know the truth. “Greyson, I need you to assist Bjorn.” Pause. The man looks into the distance. “We need to leave now. The trip to Cenril will be a long trip. I know you are all tired, but we can’t stop. We need to get as far away as possible. We at least need to reach the mountains.” He looks at Lanara with a concerned gaze. “I’ll get you home. I promise.” With that, he would begin to tug the woman’s small, soft hand--first pressing the palm against his lips, and then he leads her through the small crowd of lycans for the journey back to Cenril.