Venenzio glanced up at the sky, brow furrowed. "Reconvene here within the hour. The guards are distracted but just one of them needs to happen upon the door to realize we've disappeared."
He'd set it as firmly against the hinges as it could. From the distance they were standing, it looked like everything was as it should be. But if a more deliberating eye happened to glance upwards from the padlock... he turned to examine the grounds, hidden from their view by the girth of the banyan tree. There was no way out of the house from the back. East, west, or north it was. "I'll take the west."

"I'll head north." He decided. "The traitor is our top priority, but any intel on the Lumanliscs is a close second."

A lot of books and websites that claimed to document the paranormal insisted on all kinds of equipment: EMF scanners. Temperature guns. Books and candles and flashlights, all the bells and whistles. And mirrors. Always with the mirrors. But Roo knew better.
The dark had a way of finding you. It didn't need to be led, and it certainly couldn't be leashed.
Lruia wasn't supposed to be outside; it was a new moon and night bled into the horizon, making all of it one big, black, empty void. Her father would have a paroxysm if he ever found out what she was doing, where she was going, and who had released her. If he had any strength left in his arms, he'd strangle her himself.

Electric lights rarely worked out in the all-encompassing dark, so she'd brought along a storm bottle. It was exceedingly difficult to create, but Lara had made it a point to cultivate as many as she could. The glass buzzed in Roo's hands, like it held bees rather than captive lightning. The air around it smelled sharp and heady; she didn't think she'd ever get used to that scent, but it did have the bonus of keeping her skin prickled and putting her teeth on edge. If they were really dealing with what she suspected, then she'd need to be on high alert.
There were three sides to the Hold that would need to be defended, not counting the Hold itself. Etta and Dee were manning the eastern station, accompanied by Hyquaria, who would lend a hand where she could. Lara and Tjoria were to the west. They worried her; the two were formidable, and they'd led plenty of charges on the field during the Conjunction, but against the underbelly of Altair without someone from the main branch on their side..? She just hoped that things would be quiet on her end, where Rhea and Qwikty were waiting in the mouth of the woods, so that they could join the others as soon as possible. If all defenses failed - which they wouldn't, because that simply couldn't happen - the Hold itself contained Zynfi, Krill, and Nquilla: the powerhouses of the family. It would be fine. It had withstood assaults since the beginning of Altair. It would be fine.

Roo walked through the grounds, dipping her head to greet the guards spread sparsely amidst the flowers. The new recruits were easy to spot with their pale faces and tight jaws, and they seemed to be circling around the more seasoned veterans without realizing it. It was highly unlikely that a demon would find its way to the POW camp, but if it did... well, it would be bad news for any reconciliation efforts. Could the Sangrians hold their own against one demon, let alone four or five? It was highly doubtful, but they didn't have much to worry about. She'd created the wards on the doors herself. If something was powerful enough to get in despite her efforts, then there were bigger problems at hand. Namely, the fact that she and her sisters were likely lying facedown in a grassy field somewhere.

Ven crouched with his ear at the door, listening hard for noise on the other side. he could hear the faint shuffle of footsteps, periodically passing by that enormous tree central to their rooms. It had to be a patrol.
Things were on lockdown tonight. Earlier that day, one of the Lumanliscs had come by with large locks, which she had displayed to them before stating firmly, "We've got a 7 PM curfew. No one's leaving their rooms afterwards. We'll have soldiers on the grounds keeping watch."
So much for being esteemed guests. Venenzio had known the whole thing was a farce, but he was vaguely surprised at how quickly the Lumanliscs were shedding their sheep skin. Nervous energy had echoed around the Sangrians, ebbing and flowing as the sun settled behind the distant hills. Inquisitive murmurs thrummed in the air as people voiced their doubts: what was going on? Why was there a curfew? As if any of these poor fools had more of an idea than their fellow prisoners.
The thing that piqued his interest was the carefully masked anxiety that the Lumanliscs themselves were radiating. He'd seen the doctor walking quickly, back and forth several times, between the Hold and the woods beyond their encampment. She carried opaque bottles, cloaks, and at one point she'd even led one of their unicorn-goat-creatures out through the gates. Most of the girls had dark lines under their eyes. The little blonde one that Rommer was so infatuated with had been unnaturally quiet, her eyes darting out to the horizon every few minutes. And the one Giovanni had spoken to, the one he suspected of being the defector, trailed around the grounds with a book in one hand and a blade in the other. She had poked into the Common Grounds a few times, standing at the walls beside their rooms and staring at them concentratedly, like she was discerning individual stones in the grout. She put her hands on them, traced her fingers against the wall, occasionally made a nick with her knife, and then leaned back to examine her invisible work. He'd taken a look when she'd wandered away, brow drawing together. It was just... rocks, all around. He'd placed a hand against the wall, then surreptitiously gestured Giovanni over, only for his partner to arrive at the same conclusion; it was a stone wall. Perhaps the little Lumanlisc was losing her mind, but that was too easy a conclusion to come to. There was more at work in these abominable lands than what they could see, that much was clear. The only question was, what was scaring the Lumanliscs? It was fear that blossomed around them, turning the air thick and dark and odious... although those things could also simply have stemmed from their heretical existence.
Anyhow, they were lucky to have been relegated into duos, because it made the whole act of sneaking out and around much easier than if there had been one or two outsiders in their company. He lifted his head from the door and nodded in the general direction of the world beyond. "Patrol will be back in less than three minutes. We need to slip out and lock the door behind ourselves."

A lot of books and websites that claimed to document the paranormal insisted on all kinds of equipment: EMF scanners. Temperature guns. Books and candles and flashlights, all the bells and whistles. And mirrors. Always with the mirrors. But Roo knew better.
The dark had a way of finding you. It didn't need to be led, and it certainly couldn't be leashed.
Lruia wasn't supposed to be outside; it was a new moon and night bled into the horizon, making all of it one big, black, empty void. Her father would have a paroxysm if he ever found out what she was doing, where she was going, and who had released her. If he had any strength left in his arms, he'd strangle her himself.

Electric lights rarely worked out in the all-encompassing dark, so she'd brought along a storm bottle. It was exceedingly difficult to create, but Lara had made it a point to cultivate as many as she could. The glass buzzed in Roo's hands, like it held bees rather than captive lightning. The air around it smelled sharp and heady; she didn't think she'd ever get used to that scent, but it did have the bonus of keeping her skin prickled and putting her teeth on edge. If they were really dealing with what she suspected, then she'd need to be on high alert.
There were three sides to the Hold that would need to be defended, not counting the Hold itself. Etta and Dee were manning the eastern station, accompanied by Hyquaria, who would lend a hand where she could. Lara and Tjoria were to the west. They worried her; the two were formidable, and they'd led plenty of charges on the field during the Conjunction, but against the underbelly of Altair without someone from the main branch on their side..? She just hoped that things would be quiet on her end, where Rhea and Qwikty were waiting in the mouth of the woods, so that they could join the others as soon as possible. If all defenses failed - which they wouldn't, because that simply couldn't happen - the Hold itself contained Zynfi, Krill, and Nquilla: the powerhouses of the family. It would be fine. It had withstood assaults since the beginning of Altair. It would be fine.

Roo walked through the grounds, dipping her head to greet the guards spread sparsely amidst the flowers. The new recruits were easy to spot with their pale faces and tight jaws, and they seemed to be circling around the more seasoned veterans without realizing it. It was highly unlikely that a demon would find its way to the POW camp, but if it did... well, it would be bad news for any reconciliation efforts. Could the Sangrians hold their own against one demon, let alone four or five? It was highly doubtful, but they didn't have much to worry about. She'd created the wards on the doors herself. If something was powerful enough to get in despite her efforts, then there were bigger problems at hand. Namely, the fact that she and her sisters were likely lying facedown in a grassy field somewhere.

Ven crouched with his ear at the door, listening hard for noise on the other side. he could hear the faint shuffle of footsteps, periodically passing by that enormous tree central to their rooms. It had to be a patrol.
Things were on lockdown tonight. Earlier that day, one of the Lumanliscs had come by with large locks, which she had displayed to them before stating firmly, "We've got a 7 PM curfew. No one's leaving their rooms afterwards. We'll have soldiers on the grounds keeping watch."
So much for being esteemed guests. Venenzio had known the whole thing was a farce, but he was vaguely surprised at how quickly the Lumanliscs were shedding their sheep skin. Nervous energy had echoed around the Sangrians, ebbing and flowing as the sun settled behind the distant hills. Inquisitive murmurs thrummed in the air as people voiced their doubts: what was going on? Why was there a curfew? As if any of these poor fools had more of an idea than their fellow prisoners.
The thing that piqued his interest was the carefully masked anxiety that the Lumanliscs themselves were radiating. He'd seen the doctor walking quickly, back and forth several times, between the Hold and the woods beyond their encampment. She carried opaque bottles, cloaks, and at one point she'd even led one of their unicorn-goat-creatures out through the gates. Most of the girls had dark lines under their eyes. The little blonde one that Rommer was so infatuated with had been unnaturally quiet, her eyes darting out to the horizon every few minutes. And the one Giovanni had spoken to, the one he suspected of being the defector, trailed around the grounds with a book in one hand and a blade in the other. She had poked into the Common Grounds a few times, standing at the walls beside their rooms and staring at them concentratedly, like she was discerning individual stones in the grout. She put her hands on them, traced her fingers against the wall, occasionally made a nick with her knife, and then leaned back to examine her invisible work. He'd taken a look when she'd wandered away, brow drawing together. It was just... rocks, all around. He'd placed a hand against the wall, then surreptitiously gestured Giovanni over, only for his partner to arrive at the same conclusion; it was a stone wall. Perhaps the little Lumanlisc was losing her mind, but that was too easy a conclusion to come to. There was more at work in these abominable lands than what they could see, that much was clear. The only question was, what was scaring the Lumanliscs? It was fear that blossomed around them, turning the air thick and dark and odious... although those things could also simply have stemmed from their heretical existence.
Anyhow, they were lucky to have been relegated into duos, because it made the whole act of sneaking out and around much easier than if there had been one or two outsiders in their company. He lifted his head from the door and nodded in the general direction of the world beyond. "Patrol will be back in less than three minutes. We need to slip out and lock the door behind ourselves."

"We have to be sure we make it back in time to keep our covers intact." Giovanni reminded his partner in a hushed tone. "Can't burn bridges just yet."

"Right." Ven said. "But we need to find out what's going on. Can you get through?"

"Without a hitch," he assured his partner, retrieving a knife from his boot and getting to work removing the door from its hinges.

Venenzio got started on the bottom half and soon, they were gingerly moving the door aside, settling it against the wall closest to the chain. "Go." Ven told him, kneeling back down. "I'll get the door back on and be out, but you get a head start."

"Just prop it against the frame and we'll go." He urged.

Ven pressed his lips together; he hated the idea of leaving behind evidence of their work. But Giovanni was right. It would take too long. "Fine. We should split up."