The fifth kind on RolePlayer.me - www.roleplayer.me/thefifthkind The fifth kind

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28 years old
Nome, Alaska
United States

Last Login:
May 21 2022

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Hometown:Nome, Alaska
Body type:Slim / Slender
Ethnicity:White/Caucasian
Religion:I will let you know . . .
Education:No Answer
Height:5"2'
Characters: Ashley Tyler, The Fifth Kind
Verses: The Fourth Kind, Aliens, Supernatural, Open, Frankenstein, Otherworldly
Playbys: Hayley Williams, all faces
Length: Multi Para, Novella
Genre: Ancient, Horror, Psychological, Science Fiction, Supernatural, Suspense,
Member Since:November 14, 2021





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Word of God.

May 13th 2022 - 12:04 PM


He woke with a low groan, feeling absolutely pummeled. His head was throbbing, his neck aching, nose stinging, and ankle twisted. Jesse knew he wasn’t in the truck only because of how he was laying, on his back and not hunched over the wheel. Did Ashley pull him out of the vehicle? Wouldn’t she be feeling just as shitty as he was after the crash? His eyes opened to the farmhouse again; dim, dusty and looking mostly abandoned save for the treks through the dust where he and Ashley traversed. He didn’t see her in the living room, and he slowly swung his legs over the side of the couch – feeling an intense wave of vertigo that made his peripheral darken. Still, he caught sight of something falling in graceful spins to the floor. A feather, weighed down with dried blood that caught the light in a strangely ominous gleam.

Ashley had pulled that feather from her skin, plucked it like a farmer would pluck a chicken. Jesse sighed, trying to level himself as he drew up his pant leg to assess the damage down to his ankle. He saw nothing. No bruising, no swelling, despite the signals to his brain telling him it should have been both. “What the hell…?” he muttered, carefully getting to his feet and limping away from the couch. There was a small, half-bath attached to the living room, and going in and dusting down the mirror, Jesse was met with his own reflection. He looked haggard, tired and drawn…but his nose wasn’t broken or bleeding, there was no welt on his forehead where it’d met the steering wheel. There was nothing, like he didn’t drive away at all.

Feeling his stomach churning, Jesse left the bathroom and hurried over to the window. He couldn’t say he was surprised to see his truck parked there, looking like it did just before he drove off in it with Ashley. No crash. Nothing. And while he wasn’t surprised, he did feel his stomach sink anyway, ladened with a dread he couldn’t hope to explain. He’d made a mistake. He knew that now. He should have left. And now those tall trees swaying at the edge of the field became prison bars, and the sunset became the blazing search light that would catch him should he try to sneak away in the shadows. He didn’t know how he knew leaving was, at least for now, not an option for him. It was like the very air around him shared this knowledge, malicious and stoic at once.

What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

No sooner did the thought emerge than he heard the sound above him. Some sort of cry. Was it above him? It sounded like it might be too far…outside the bounds of the house. Then what? Was it coming from the skies? Jesse laughed harshly, the sound aggressive rather than amused at all. Would it be that far outside of everything else that happened?

Grasping that anger because it was fueling him forward, Jesse stormed up the stairs, taking the flight of steps two at a time as if that noise and whoever – whatever – was making it, might disappear if he wasn’t fast enough.

At the top of the stairs, Jesse paused to look around, searching for anything that might lead him. He found it in another feather, this one not coated in blood…at least not from what he could see. Jesse walked down the hall, following a trail of intermittent feathers that brought him to a pull down attic door. Too full of adrenaline to grieve over the less than ideal location, he yanked the thread cord and unfolded the wooden stairs. They creaked and groaned with his weight, unused to anyone climbing them now.

It was dark up in the attic, the only light came from the far end where it filtered in through slitted panes. It was just enough to see a long, dangling light switch. Jesse tugged on it and the light sparked to life, though it was dim and flickering. “Goddammit,” he grumbled, hoisting himself fully into the attic and looking around. He couldn’t stand upright, and most of it was unfinished, just supporting beams between insulation that he had to carefully maneuver over.

“Where are you?” he shouted, not entirely sure who he was yelling to. Ashley? The owl? The storm? Were they all one and the same?

He still heard that faint and muffled wailing, and while he couldn’t be sure it was coming from the far end of the attic, he had no idea where else to look. He thought he saw a shape as he got closer, some dark form that was huddled there in the shadows. Now and then something about it would twitch and shift in a way that didn’t seem human.

“Ashley?”

The light that weakly shone from outside vanished with the sound of rushing wind. Jesse imagined that wind brought dark clouds with it, leaving the sky overcast again but there wasn’t any thunder or lightning. Not yet. He watched that darkness become deeper and then the single light in the attic went out. “Fuck!” he cursed, suddenly blind. It was so dark he really couldn’t see a thing, not his hand, not any details of the attic…not the dark mass he’d been approaching.

He felt something brush by him and cursed, reaching out to try and grab it but only grasping thin air. He heard footsteps running away from him, or was it the flutter of wings? He didn’t know and the sudden fear that whatever it was was going to get to the door and close it behind its departure, trapping Jesse up here, made him think of nothing else but to scramble back the way he came. He had to move slowly though, so he didn’t end up going through the ceiling, hands swiping for wood rather than insulation to know where to put his foot.

Frustrated, and though he wouldn’t admit it – frightened too, Jesse reached for Genesis again. It might make things worse, or it might remind him that he had something immensely powerful on his side. “Reveal yourself!”
Word of God.

Apr 27th 2022 - 10:11 AM


He wasn’t too sure if Ashley was ever going to open the door. Frankly, Jesse wasn’t sure what his plan was going to be if she didn’t. He couldn’t really just sit out here on the porch indefinitely. There was the practical matters of food, drink and sleep for one, and then the fact he had to continue his own journey sooner rather than later.

Then he heard the rattle of the door knob and the squeak of the hinges. Jesse glanced over his shoulder to see that shock of red hair and a bright green eye peeking from the crack. Slowly, he got to his feet but he made no move towards the door, letting her come out on her own time while he leaned against the support beam of the porch, inhaling more nicotine and feeling better for it. He even offered a smile when she joined him outside, even if he was still completely baffled and off kilter by the day’s events.

The smile faded when her voice changed. He was hearing a little girl now, but nothing about her appearance changed. Jesse stared at her, frowning somewhat. “Yeah, well…bad habit,” he admitted, not sure why the chastisement got under his skin. Maybe she was already nestled there, picking and clawing through a series of strange events and would eventually burrow into his soul. But was he right to label her with such ominous misgivings? Jesse still didn’t know if Ashley was the center of these events or just another victim of them. If the former, maybe he should have left once he was done with the truck. If the latter…how could he account for seeking redemption if he left her in that state?

“I ain’t so sure I believe that,” he admitted. Nothing about this situation was ‘fine’ and she’d been through a lot, just from what the preacher witnessed. She might not remember, but he did. He remembered her jaw, rising up into the air, like some broken doll pulled up by puppet strings. That was something that would stay in his memories forever, most likely.

So would seeing her tug an owl feather from her skin. “What the hell?” he asked again, not expecting an answer. There was no answer to this. “That’s…” the same feather, the same colors. One and the same. “Forgive me,” he muttered. To her? To God? He didn’t even know and he wasn’t sure it mattered. So long as they stayed here, weird shit was going to keep happening. And it would escalate, and escalate, and Jesse didn’t want to wait and see what that looked like.

He dropped his cigarette and moved forward. He’d spent most of his life fighting, his movements were always fluid, yet direct. Ashley might condemn him for his grabbing her and throwing her over his shoulder, but if it saved her…he’d take her anger, he’d even take her hatred. The moment he stepped off the porch with her, clouds rushed back in overhead, too fast to be natural. Thunder cracked so loudly it left a faint ringing in his ears, the rumble so pronounced he felt it in the ground like a faint earthquake. Rain came pelting down too, a rushing deluge that had them soaked through in seconds.

Jesse wrenched the truck door open and somewhat gracelessly shoved Ashley inside before he got into the driver’s seat, keys in ignition, the engine turning over, spluttering, groaning, before it roared to life. His patch job wouldn’t get them far, but probably back to town. To sanity. The wheels churned against the muddy ground, but they found enough purchase for Jesse to turn around, away from the farmhouse.

At the end of the drive, he felt more hope. They’d get out of this after all. But the minute the truck trundled onto the main road, he realized his hope was for nothing. A blinding flash illuminated the scene around them, blanching it out, making him feel like he’d gone blind. Jesse lifted a hand to shield his eyes, but the wheel he grasped in one hand turned suddenly, as if invisible hands grabbed it and wrested control from him. He couldn’t see where it was going, but he suspected it was back towards the farm. “Fuck you!” he shouted, fighting that impossible grip.

He managed to get control, the truck jerked and then came to a painful stop when its front crashed into a tree, while the preacher's head crashed into the steering wheel, all the while the light, like lightning frozen around them, continued to shine bright.
Word of God.

Apr 12th 2022 - 10:56 AM


His hand went to the door handle, expecting entry just like before. Only it wouldn’t twist in his grip this time and Jesse frowned. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,” he sighed. She locked him out. Confusing didn’t even begin to cover this exchange. Her memory of him was gone, that was pretty clearly established. How or why was a mystery. Her reactions to some of his questions he couldn’t even guess at their reasoning. Why did she look so scared? Why did she look guilty of having done something wrong before shoving him out of the house? Why did she go from insisting that he couldn’t leave, to demanding that he go?

He stood outside the door for what felt like a full minute, trying to wrap his mind around all that happened. But he couldn’t, mainly because his brain was still trying to process it all and most of it just didn’t make enough sense. He looked out across the field again, a clear view of the tree in his line of sight. There was no mistaking the fact it was perfectly fine, untouched by lightning or flame. But her voice kept coming back to him, I was inside, I was inside, making him think of when she was inside the storm, inside the lightning. Only, she was convinced she was inside the house. He felt a headache throbbing between his temples.

“Alright,” he sighed. “Alright…”

What could he do? Fix up the truck, go to town and come back here to pick her up? Would he break down the damn door to get to her? He should, something within told him that he should. That it was the right thing to do, even if it was complicated and difficult. Still, the idea of basically kidnapping Ashley wasn’t one that really appealed to him.

But did he just ignore the way her voice sounded? It wasn’t merely a repeat of the same words, a sudden mantra she seemed incapable of breaking out of. It was the nature in which it was said. Synthetic in a way that unsettled him again. “What the hell am I even dealin’ with here?” he muttered, turning his back on the front door and stepping off the porch. He made his way to the shed, forcing the door open with some effort since its hinges were rusted shut, like no one had come by here in a real long time. Yet somehow the tools that Ashley mentioned looked new. Like someone had helpfully placed them there for him.

“This is bullshit,” he growled, anger covering up the well of other emotions this place was putting him through.

He grabbed a toolbox, wiring, steel wire brushes and whatever else he might need and lugged it over to the truck. Given the strange tendencies Ashley displayed already, maybe his working out there would make her change her mind again and come outside to leave with him.

He shrugged out of his preacher’s jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt before he popped open the hood again, looking more closely at the engine now, assessing the damage. He could have been a mechanic with the amount he knew about engines. It was a skill he wanted to learn from his father, but after Jody murdered John Custer, Jesse ended up learning from the killer instead. It was hard to imagine pursuing a career in it after that. Still, it was helping him now he had some tools at his disposal. He cleaned up the area as best he could and started taking into account exactly what was damaged and what just looked bad.

Jesse paused in his work after a little while, fingers dark with grease and oil. He might just be able to salvage it enough to get away from the farm after all, but that made him look back towards the house in question. He thought he saw Ashley at the window, watching. “You’re a goddamn idiot,” he groaned, realizing that he wasn’t going to leave until he was sure she was alright. What even was alright out here?

Needing to let things settle anyway, Jesse moved back to the porch and sat on the top step, lighting up a cigarette and languidly smoking it. “I’m not gonna go until I’m sure you’re okay,” he called out, making sure his voice was loud enough it’d be heard. “I guess you could keep me locked out here, but I’d be mighty grateful if you’d consider lettin’ me back inside. Or, you can join me out here. There’s nothin’ scary out here, hell…it’s actually pretty damn nice right now.”
Word of God.

Mar 31st 2022 - 11:41 AM


“No,” he agreed. Jesse could reiterate what happened, that he found those clothes in the house and gave them to her so she wouldn’t freeze to death…considering she appeared in her wet clothes from being out in the storm. There was no point, however. He knew that Ashley wouldn’t hear him, not really, not when she was this frantic. The preacher wished he had a means to calm her down, he wished that he could use Genesis – but he couldn’t get the sight of her unhinged jaw out of his head, and he couldn’t get the shriek to stop ringing in his ears. It could happen again if he used the Word. Like she was…immune to it somehow, affected differently than anyone else. She looked human though, she sounded human. If she wasn’t…then what the hell was she?

“You weren’t,” he said sharply. “You weren’t in here when I came in, it was abandoned!”

Arguing with her probably wasn’t the best tactic right now, but Jesse didn’t know what else to do. He was completely frazzled, lost in a way that he could reconcile. How did she become so convinced that everything that happened didn’t happen? What made that switch in her mind? He recalled the sound of a thousand different voices, speaking to Genesis, or acknowledging that they knew the entity was within Jesse. It warned him to stop, stop looking for God. Was whatever that might have been responsible for Ashley’s current state? Of course, that left the big fucking question…who were they?

“What do you mean happenin’ again?” he asked, not expecting an answer but unable to contain the question regardless. What was happening again? Her memory failing her? The storm? “Ashley!” there had to be some way to snap her out of this. He had to, because there was still an ominous presence looming over the farm house, like some skulking predator that was going to devour them both if he didn’t get some understanding of it before it could lunge.

It didn’t break her out of it. Instead she rushed to scoop up the documents she knocked from his hands just moments before, shoving them at him. Jesse took them, bewildered enough to do so as if this was a normal exchange while his mind reminded him over and over again that this was insane. “Wait, but…” he took a breath. “You’ve been tellin’ me it’s too dangerous to leave this whole time!” That was with the storm though, and now the storm was gone. Evidence of its violence was gone. Jesse stared at her for a full minute before he shook his head, having reached some inward limit, he turned on his heel and went through the door.

Outside the air was chilly, touched with moisture. It smelled like wet hay and grass, distant scents of pine came wafting from the treeline. Jesse strode up to his truck and opened the door. The seats were soaked thanks to the broken window. He frowned and shoved the papers on the dash, behind the steering wheel. He noticed steam drifting lazily from under the hood, so he popped it and lifted it up.

“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” he groaned. The engine was fried, charred in some places and smoking in others. This goddamn place…

In his anger, Jesse slammed down the hood harshly and when that wasn’t enough, punched the front grill for good measure even if all he managed was to make his knuckles sting in protest. “Get ahold of yourself, for Christ’s sake,” he grumbled. He couldn’t leave Ashley here anyway. Whatever was going on with her, she needed help. Jesse didn’t know if he could get her what she needed, but it was better than ditching her here.

“There any kind of radio in the house?” he asked, making his way back to the front door. “Anyone we can call to get us out of here? Roads are shit right now, I know. But there’s got to be some way to get to town.”
Word of God.

Mar 19th 2022 - 10:35 AM


He didn’t know what to expect when she woke up. Would she unleash another horrible, inhuman sound? Would she yell about the storm? The rain? Would she be compelled to answer the question put to her under the power of Genesis? There was anticipation in the set of his shoulders, and he clung to that with all his might to chase away phantoms trying to pull him to the depths of despair that still haunted his heart. The darkness of his soul that he would never be free of.

Her eyes seemed to spark in the gloomy house, that electric green unlike any color the preacher had ever seen someone possess. There was no recognition in them, however, and Ashley seemed confused once more. Only it was worse than before, and Jesse stared down at her as she asked him to identify himself, asked why she was stuck in wet clothes again. “...What?” he asked, voice strained and eyes flaring with an indefinable emotion.

And he continued to stare at her, baffled and confused himself. How did she forget? What just happened to her? With her jaw, that sound, the hovering? The rain that seemed to be conjured strictly for her? She asked more questions, and Jesse couldn’t answer. He might have missed the fact the storm ended, might have missed that the animals returned to their nightly routines, had it not been for the audible howl of wolves that weaved through the silence of the house. He blinked, and glanced at the nearest window. The panes were no longer being lashed with rain. He didn’t hear thunder in the distance, indicating the storm had moved on. It was like it ceased to exist.

Before he was given time to really contemplate this, Ashley became more determined than ever to put distance between them. Her voice was shrill, the accusation ringing in the preacher’s ears. He stood again, hands raised to show he had no weapons as he took a step back, entirely lost as to how to proceed. “I haven’t done anythin’ to you!” he insisted. “Christ, all I did was try to help you when you came here from the storm. You…you gotta remember. We’ve been holed up in here for a while now. You told me your name, Ashley. And I told you mine, Jesse. From the south? You…you were real adamant that I stay inside while the storm was ragin’. I…” he trailed off, shaking his head.

The storm was over, and his truck may still be busted but he was willing to try walking somewhere, anywhere. Good question though, that anywhere. Town was a good distance away and it was cold. Besides, the rain could catch them again and being trapped out there in the elements was a good way to wind up dead in a ditch on the side of the road. But he was still possessed of that desire, that need, to get away from this place.

“Listen, there’s somethin’ real weird goin’ on here. I think it’s dangerous. I think it’s got a lot of potential to do a lot of harm. It’s in the owl…and from what you said before…it’s in the storm too.” Did he believe that the tempest had some kind of sentience? He didn’t know. He did not know what to believe anymore. And in his confusion, he heard a pray in the back of his mind, asking God for guidance even though he knew God could not, or would not, hear him. “You…you came from the storm,” he said again, and walked to the window so he could show her the tree the lightning struck, where he first saw her.

But the tree was fine, its charred and broken trunk restored. The scorched grass around it grown back and waving lightly in a breeze. “I don’t…” he closed his eyes, took a breath to summon any semblance of composure before he lost whatever remained. “I know what I saw.”
Word of God.

Mar 12th 2022 - 3:09 PM


I was in the storm. Out of context, one could argue it answered his question, but realistically, it didn’t answer it at all. He’d seen her, when this storm started, but they tended to her, got her that towel, the dry clothes. Now it was like she’d never been dried off at all. More incredible was the fact the drops just kept falling. Jesse glanced up at the ceiling even though he knew he wouldn’t see a leak, impossible as it was…it seemed like the rain was coming from Ashley. And though her features were the ones Jesse was getting used to, everything about her changed somehow. She no longer backed away from him like a skittish animal, seeking shelter by making herself smaller, seeking shadows. Now she looked like she was bearing down on him, and despite her shorter stature it was like her presence loomed over him.

He needed Genesis to get this under control, to force her to give answers so he could make some goddamn sense out of this. To understand how she got here, why the lightning seemed to target the preacher’s only means of escape, what the hell was happening. He felt like he was going mad. But instead of the usual, where the person may widen their eyes in surprise as the compulsion to follow the Command overrode whatever their brain was telling them, Ashley seemed to distort. Her eyes widened, sure, but they went too wide. No longer human, and looking into their depths Jesse felt like he stood on the abyss of chaos, the vastness of the Universe surrounding him and threatening to suck him into the crushing dark. He might have found relief when her mouth opened, eyes dropping to catch whatever answer she might provide, pulling his gaze from her impossible eyes, but there was no reprieve. Just that screeching that stabbed into his ears and dug in deeper, hooking into his brain and threatening to tear it apart. Jesse pressed his hands to his ears, eyes narrowed and watching her, watching her jaw seemingly detach, that inhuman bellow still roaring out of her. It was like the force of it knocked him backwards, only the door stopped him from being forced back out into the storm.

Was she floating?! Jesse thought so, thought he saw her fold back into the air before they were plunged in darkness again. The screaming stopped, he lowered his hands only to hear the name that no one was supposed to know echoing from the tv…which shouldn’t be on since power obviously had been cut. How did it? they? Know about Genesis? About God? About his search for the Almighty? Who were they to tell them to stop? That death would be the result? As downright unsettled as the preacher felt, he also felt the first stirring of anger too. “Fuck you!” he snapped. “If all this is some elaborate means to get me to quit it ain’t gonna work!”

And within Genesis reached outwards, upwards, everywhere. A mighty roar, the trumpet heralding…something. Conflict, war, victory. Jesse’s head was too messed up to make any sense out of anything right now. He felt weary, ill almost…exhausted. As the phantom voices died down and the world seemed to right itself a little more, he noticed Ashley on the floor. He wanted to leave her for a second, run outside and jump into his truck and take his chances. He wouldn’t, because he didn’t know if she was some victim in all this; a conduit for the greater forces at play. Besides, he was pretty sure that second lightning strike hit the engine directly. He’d need to take a look, and he couldn’t do so properly with how dark it was outside.

So he approached the woman and hunkered down, reaching for her shoulder and hesitating. When he turned her to her back, would her eyes still be inhuman? Would her jaw be hanging slack against her neck? How did these feathers get here? Jesse didn’t have to examine one more closely to know it belonged to the owl. And the scratches on her arm looked eerily similar to the ones Jesse suffered by said intrusive bird.

She looked like herself again, the self that Jesse was beginning to know at least. “Hey,” he said, voice strained. “Wake up. Come on, wake up. We got to get the fuck out of here, somehow. We need to.” He needed to. He needed to be somewhere that made sense, away from the warning that both frightened and angered him. “I want to get out of here.”

A plaintive edge could be heard in his voice. It was rare to hear it from him, mainly because it only came in a very specific occasion. He felt like he was locked up in the coffin again right now though. It was a hell of a lot more spacious here, but it was the same oppressive feeling. Mingled in the echo of those tv voices came his own voice, younger and hysterical let me out, let me out! the thudding of fists on wood, the rapidity of his heart. Jesse cursed under his breath, shut those feelings out, focused on his not-so-much better present.
Word of God.

Mar 6th 2022 - 9:57 AM


It wasn’t enough that the storm seemed to intensify the moment Jesse stepped outside to retrieve the documents. Nope, apparently his presence seemed to make the owl come back. Not satisfied to shriek at him, the bird instead attacked him, leaving the preacher to swat jerkily at the thing while attempting to get everything he needed at the same time. Jesse wasn’t fond of hurting animals, but he also didn’t want one of those sharp talons to lodge itself into his neck. Gathering what he needed, Jesse backed away from the truck, slamming the door shut and grimacing as water freely entered the broken window. The rain was coming down at a slant now, perfect for ruining the interior. At least the owl let up its attack though. Jesse didn’t see the bird and he didn’t waste time looking, hurrying back to the house instead.

The door opened, and Jesse was startled to see Ashley standing right there, chair abandoned in favor of…glaring at him? The preacher raised a brow, noticing that her hair was wet again, and her clothes. “What the…” he muttered, interrupted when she harshly knocked his items from his hands and to the floor. “Hey! Goddammit,” he grumbled. She didn’t seem to care, she just yelled at him. Jesse didn’t bother to scoop up the scattered papers, he was too transfixed on the mystery. “Why’re you wet again?” he asked. Would she just say she didn’t know again? Back away from him in another show of nerves and leave him puzzling about what was going on here?

“You didn’t go outside,” he continued. “You weren’t out there so how…why does it look like you followed me?”

He felt something trickling down the side of his face and brought a finger up to swipe it. He figured it would be a drop of rain water, but the liquid was red. Blood, from a scratch left by the hostile owl. The owl with the strange eyes. The woman with the strange eyes. He felt a headache brewing behind his eyes. He had to know, he had to understand, because if he didn’t…it was dangerous. There was some kind of force here, something at play that he didn’t comprehend. Without knowing, he was vulnerable, and the preacher hated that feeling. He couldn’t…he wouldn’t let himself be caught unawares. Not if he could help it.

So far, he hadn’t used Genesis directly even though the entity was riled up, like it was waiting for him to call on it. Waiting for a chance to spread proverbial wings. Yet, there was some hesitation as Jesse continued to regard Ashley. At times she seemed as lost as he was, maybe even more so. But then, there were moments where she seemed aware of things he wasn’t. She was connected to all of this…the storm, the owl, the stories surrounding the farm. Jesse was certain of that at least. He frowned slightly, not entirely sure why he felt like it was wrong to use the Word on her, and yet…knowing he was going to anyway. Because it was for the best, or the best according to him.

The preacher reached for that immeasurable source of power wrapped around his soul. He kept his gaze steadfast on her, the red of his eyes perceptible even in the gloom. Let her see, let her know something different was coming, maybe it would somehow help matters. “Tell me about the storm,” he commanded, Genesis’s voice echoing over his own. “Tell me why it isn’t safe.”
Word of God.

Feb 27th 2022 - 3:34 PM


Jesse met his fair share of strange people by now, but he would like to add Ashley towards the top of the list. She would respond to things he said in a delayed manner, creating an odd cadence to their conversation where talk circled back around in an unnatural way, but nevertheless in a way that still made sense. The preacher chalked it up to her current state; it wouldn’t be surprising to know she was confused, what with her suddenly appearing here as if from nowhere, soaked down to the skin and trapped inside by a tumultuous storm. So he didn’t ask her about it, or allude to it in any manner and focused on helping her out instead. It was cold, and running around in wet clothes was less than prudent.

When he returned it was to see her drop a box of cereal. Judging by the faded print on the box, it’d been here as long as some of the dust had. He summoned a measure of patience, her jaw was working which meant it was too late to tell her not to eat what was definitely expired food. He just smiled tightly when she mumbled around her mouthful and took the towel from him. Apparently feeling no shame, she proceeded to tug the wet clothing from her form. Jesse cleared his throat and turned to give her a sense of privacy. Or maybe it was better put to give himself privacy. The situation was bizarre enough without adding more complications to it. When she spoke, he deemed it safe to face her again and this time his smile was a little more genuine as she claimed to feel like the south.

“That’s real good,” he replied. “Seems like you’re perkin’ up a bit.”

Until that lightning rescinded what progress she made in coming out of her shell a little. She went back to looking nervous, like she was trapped. And she spoke of things that couldn’t possibly be true, making his smile fade as he shook his head in protest to her insistence she was tied to the storm. “That’s not true, it wasn’t stormin’ when I got here,” he pointed out. But she did say it was where she was that seemed to draw the storm. By her logic, it wasn’t storming on the farm when Jesse arrived because he got here first. “Why’re you referrin’ to the storm like it’s some sentient thing?” he asked, maybe more harshly than he should have. Jesse had little patience for things that felt out of his control. A storm was most definitely out of his control, he needed to understand it better, to understand what the hell was going on here. Especially when he became aware that Genesis was more active again, as if responding to Ashley’s words and now striving towards the storm - for its own sense of understanding, to find an echo of the cosmic nature Genesis possessed and had yet to find familiarity since its escape from Heaven.

The feeling was powerful, so much so that the preacher entered a sort of trance-like state. Standing stock-still, with his gaze vacant and a red sheen descending over his eyes. It was like an exchange of energy between entity and storm, inquiries made in a language Jesse could never know.

He was startled out of it by the sudden crashing of glass. Blinking rapidly a few times, Jesse made a quick look around but the windows nearby were fine, the noise came from beyond the house. His truck. “Shit,” he muttered. His brow furrowed as Ashley apologized profusely. “There’s nothin’ for you to be sorry about,” he countered. “And it ain’t possible that a storm is followin’ you around, the same storm no less, and it ain’t keepin’ you from leavin’. You weren’t here when I got here, so you left at some point, right?” Remembering he had some items in the truck that would get ruined if wet, he groaned. “I gotta go out there,” he said. “You stay inside. I’m just goin’ right to my truck, just right there,” he gestured to the window, beyond it to the vehicle.

The cigarettes could be replaced well enough, but some of the things he collected, documents from the Grail, maps from demons, citations from angels…well, he couldn’t replace those. Jesse grimaced as he headed to the door of the farm, opening it and feeling a cold blast of air immediately assault him as he stepped outside. “Fuckin’ Christ,” he grumbled, irate, as he trudged over to his truck. “If this ain’t some goddamn bullshit. You havin’ a good time?” this last directed at the dark clouds overhead, as if God Himself was directing the tempest. And yet…somehow Jesse knew it had nothing to do with the Almighty.
Word of God.

Feb 12th 2022 - 6:49 AM


If he didn’t keep reminding himself not to, Jesse was liable to fall into a slew of cussing that wouldn’t really help the situation at all, but might make him feel better to acknowledge how fucking crazy this night was turning out to be. Him shouting profanities wasn’t going to be comforting at all, however, and so he shoved that urge down, the impulse fading to the background but still waiting for a chance to burst forth. This woman was showing all the signs of growing terror, and when Jesse noticed she shied away from him, he stopped moving towards her and let her have her space. People could be incredibly close to animals when seized by fear. Jesse recalled a time in his youth, back when he was still stuck on his grandmother’s estate, when Jody took him out to see some wild horses that’d been taken into a nearby stable. While the experience was dampened somewhat by the fact he was there with his father’s killer instead of his father, Jesse had to commend Jody for his skill in which he handled things. He was a mean sonuva bitch and a heartless killer, and yet he exuded a sense of calm and peacefulness that day which had the spooked horses respond in kind. Jesse might be loath to admit how much of his skillset was taught by Jody, but this was one of those lessons put to the test; calm, patient and biding his time until this woman felt safe enough in his presence to let him help her.

“It’s alright,” he said again. “The owl don’t matter, it’s fine.” He thought that it did, somehow. But that wasn’t for her to worry about, not yet anyway. “Ashley? Hey, my name is Jesse Custer.” It didn’t escape his notice that she responded to the question posed by Genesis. How the entity managed to reach out beyond him, not needing Jesse to voice the inquiry for it to reach Ashley. At any other time, the preacher might be a touch nervous about that, but as it stood he was just glad Genesis was so present right now. The entity felt like the proverbial anchor, keeping Jesse from getting swept up in the storm. It didn’t stop the multitude of questions that continuously circled in his thoughts. Where did she come from? Had she forgotten everything? To the point where bumping her head was cause for surprise, for further confusion? And yet, she didn’t refuse his offered hand. Jesse would have stood there with it extended as long as he needed to, but he was somewhat relieved that she reached for it when she did.

He kept everything he did slow, steady, the better not to startle her even more. As reluctant as he was to remain in this house, he didn’t urge her to change her mind. She had a point, that storm was still howling and even if his truck wasn’t a piece of shit he doubted any vehicle would make it far in this. He couldn’t help the feeling that this was just the start though, and that something even bigger was coming. Her grip became tighter, her voice earnest. “Okay, we won’t go. Not into the storm.” She talked about it like it was some kind of predator, a sentient thing waiting for its chance to strike. With the way things were going…Jesse didn’t think that was impossible.

The preacher smiled with a wry kind of amusement. “I’m from the south, I was cold long before crossin’ into Alaska,” he admitted. He wasn’t sure if she’d understand he was trying to bring levity to the ominous situation, but it helped him too in any case. “I coulda sworn I saw you in the storm,” he agreed. “In the lightnin’...but things were happenin’ real fast out there so maybe I didn’t see what I think I did.” He didn’t quite believe that, and the sense of Genesis sighing deep in his soul said the entity didn’t buy it either. Christ, this was going to get stranger before it made sense. “But let’s get you somethin’ to fight off the cold.” He released her hand and took a few steps back from her. “I’m gonna find you a towel and clothes.” He nodded, as if confirming this directive with himself, before he moved further into the house. He found a staircase leading to the second floor, frowning as the steps creaked in warning. It must’ve been a long time since this farm saw any sort of maintenance. Fortunately, his foot didn’t go through the floorboards.

He found the master bedroom, it was small and cozy, overlooking the field…overlooking the tree that’d been struck and burned by the flames. Jesse moved to the attached bathroom and opened a small linen closet. There was a couple threadbare towels inside, dusty but usable. He shook it out first before returning to the bedroom to go through the dresser. There were some clothes, mens’ clothing, but it was better than nothing. He grabbed a bulky flannel shirt and a pair of corduroy overalls. Farm fashion, that was for sure. Grabbing a pair of woolly socks as well, Jesse returned to Ashley and handed over the towel. “This ain’t your first time dealin’ with a storm like this, is it?” he asked. As if the storm was listening, another flash of lighting filled the windows, followed by a loud peal of thunder.
Շђє קยקקєՇ ๓ครՇєг

Feb 6th 2022 - 11:20 PM


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Perchance to Dream

“Where will you look?”

“Where will you go?”

 

How many times had the dream encapsulated his nights? He had lost count as the dream or vision or phantasm haunted him more frequently. Truly, it seemed like he had given it to a sort of madness. Loki had difficulty believing what he was experiencing until that moment. Frustrated, he had spoken to it. Addressed the face that intrigued him and it answered back.

 

Wasn’t that proof of the woman’s existence? Instead of becoming clearer and more precise, everything became more muddled. The voice was everywhere and nowhere. The background faded from view as did the face and the god was left with a disembodied voice resounding in his mind. 

 

She teased him and continued to play a game. The game of hide and seek that had started…..when? He couldn’t recall as everything seemed intangible. 

 

“Do I exist at all?”

“Do you?”

 

It was all very bizarre. The entire encounter was obscure. At every turn were more questions. They were queries that challenged and intrigued but had no easy or clear answer. Her final question left him reeling as it began to reinforce his thought that none of this was real and perhaps he had lost his senses at some point.

 

No! This was real and she was real. The face that haunted him did so for a reason and he was determined to find her and discover why she had chosen him. What purpose did he serve? What did she want from him? Who was she? If he knew her, he couldn’t remember. Somehow in the misty dreams that swirled in his mind, something about it all felt familiar. Had she done that? Had she planted those dreams, that perception?

 

“Don’t hide. I will find you.”

 

Loki was a man of his word when he wanted to be. The trickster kept promises that benefited him usually. The benefit here: proof that he wasn’t insane. Tracking wasn’t easy but for an extremely skilled sorcerer, there were ways. Magical beings and even otherworldly beings left a signature. Each was unique as a fingerprint. 

 

“Perchance to dream….what dreams may come…”

 

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