Saving Sanctuary (senpai & Donut)

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glaizedonut

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Updates on Mondays and Fridays [GMT+11].

~Welcome to the Sanctuary~

In this age of death, a gilded fortress erects itself on broken land.
A fortress that is destined to be god's Ark,
if humankind is god and the Ark the fruit of its tireless labor,
to lift all spirits worthy of salvation to the arms of the blackened space above fair skies;
to feed its children that hunger for love and thirst for its light;
to hold its ground on sturdy soil as the earth erupts with corruption
and dies with it.


Its holy gates will welcome you with open arms
so long as you, too, open yourself to the virtues of god's True Paradise.



Please expose and surrender belongings to officials posted at the entrance.
Failure to follow orders will result in the renunciation of your application.
Insubordination will cause you to be subjected to immediate elimination.


~Welcome to the Sanctuary~


--
a senpai & glaizedonut roleplay
--​


The dry, harsh winds sent grains of dirt shooting at her bandaged face. She shielded her eyes with a large clawed hand and when the winds calmed their stirring for a short while, she looked at the worn out yellow paper that danced in the desert breeze. The words printed on it were fading, not from its age, but from the unforgiving world she crossed in years to get here. She wished she could give meaning to these characters. Her eyes glossed with a satisfaction, however, and her fangs grazed her thin white lips as they stretched into a grin as she peered past her hood at the tall blocks in the distance. Salvation never looked as promising as two sturdy, thick, hulking gates only a few hundred strides away from her. Her knees buckled with weakness as she scanned the height of the entrance. Longer than any pair of wings she had ever seen! Her own wings ached under her thin cloak and bandages, long dark feathers rustling under the torn fabric. She grimaced at the thought of these gates leading her into another wasteland of corpses, barely anything to scavenge, and once again the lack of striving civilization.

She marched on.
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She had resigned herself to this search since her discovery of the place - a few rumors in a dying city from human families who were in the business of dragging only the barest of their belongings with them out of their homeless ruts, exerting their efforts to a quest in reaching the Sanctuary before the world tore itself apart. She had been hiding herself in the shadows of fallen trees and rotting bodies - she had been in the middle of a quickly scavenged meal - when she had heard the little creatures whisper with tones she had only heard once, or twice, in her lifetime: voices full of hope, of an excitement, yet also of an urgency and desperation. When they had left in the dangerous evening, as the hungry, untamed monsters prowled about in the dead forests, she shot herself to the sky with her powerful wings, her growing wings, and flew with delicacy far above them so the human family would not think twice of shooting her, or running towards the wrong direction. She watched them as she flew, several heights above them, and would level herself slowly down to swoop in at any possible threat before they came to harm the family. As strong as she was, she had only taught herself to be a vicious killer and stop her hunger, but she was no good in direction, no good at searching for any place that sounded important.

She flinched and doubled over, trudging her bent knees deeper into the sands, and she pressed a claw lightly to her side. The family of little humans were surrounding a fire one night, a fire that attracted these colossal feral beasts with thick manes and eight piercing eyes, and were killed before she had a chance to swoop down and plunge the monsters heads into the ground. The beasts let out a shriek and by instinct she leaned over their dying forms and sank her teeth into their necks to silence these unpleasant sounds. The sounds disappeared, along with the voices of the family. She gathered what she could from their remains - organs that would stay fresh in her bag for a few days - but she devoured the corpses of the eight-eyed monsters, all the way to the bone. A strong, bubbling sensation formed in her whenever she glanced at the faces of the little humans, stuck for eternity into voiceless screams. The sensation had driven her to slaughter the monsters with a ferocity she had only experienced in her starvation. When she finished her meals, her murder, in silent prayer, she flew again through the chilly night and dropped by a group of broken houses where faint lights flashed. There she found this paper, and along her long trek and flight she found a couple pages more, with the same drawings and same strokes of lines, and where more of these papers appeared she followed like a moth to a flame that died and lit itself again.

Now she stood with an awkward, sloppy stance, clothed in a tattered gray robe in the desert afternoon, trudging towards one of the largest chunks of rock she had ever seen in her short life.

Figures cloaked in black robes - cleaner than hers, and with sharper shapes, fitting their strong, brusque movements - approached her with weapons drawn. She felt blood on her tongue and her eyes drooped low. Instead of alarm and panic, the muscles in her arms remained tight only in weariness, and the strength she built through her long journey dissipated in every weakening step. The figures, creatures with different faces, she could see from afar, scaled faces, smooth faces, incomplete faces, soon surrounded her in a circle of hazy shapes. She recognized one of them as being small and human, and she forced her eyes that threatened to close to focus themselves on the human's face, before spreading her teeth wide across her mouth. Before her vision went dark and the aching in her whole body numbed, she hoped the little man saw her practiced yet vicious-looking smile.


 
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Neglecting her homework from school was probably not the smartest idea, knowing that her mother would scold her for daydreaming again; but procrastination had the best of her. History was far from her concern at the moment, as it slowly faded into the back of her imaginative mind.

Letting the sun bask upon her porcelain skin, Venus gazed lazily at the summer sky with her doe-brown eyes, counting how many clouds that appeared today. If the brunette stared long enough, she could see it passing by in very tedious movements. But it seemed as if it never moved at all. Sparing the open atmosphere one last glance, she finally looked away, rubbing her squinted eyes when the blazing ray blurred her vision.

Venus tucked her head close into her shoulder, attempting to curl herself in a comfortable position. Just like this, she can finally sleep in peace; even if it's temporary. No more school, no more lectures, just...

"Venus!"

Great.

She crinkled her eyes, and the rest she had that was once tranquil was disturbed by the screeching call of her name.

Venus didn't bother to get up until she suddenly had a cool shade, but unfortunately it was from her apparent pissed-off mother Lyra Genesis , when her head blocked the sun. "Venus, how many times have I told you?" She hissed, "No. More. Daydreaming!"

Venus only sighed in respond and rose from the grass, patting the dust off from her skirt. "I'm sorry," She shrugged, not sounding too apologetic.

"If you were a mutant, I would've thrown you out by now," Mrs. Genesis remarked, and angrily huffed. "Have you finished your studies?"

She paused. "...Yes," Venus gave a hesitant nod.


"Not only are you dense, you are a terrible liar," The older woman crossed her arms, "You're seventeen but yet, you act like a child. Honestly, what am I going to do with you, Venus?"

It was obviously rhetorical, so the teenager let the silence fall between them.

Mrs. Genesis glared at her pointedly, until she gave up and exhaled heavily. "Goodness, it's hot out here. Come, I want you to finish your studies for history today--we've got a lot of things to do today."


"Like what?" Venus asked. She followed behind her mother's trail and swept her bangs away from her face. Few of the strands stuck to her face, sweat glistening her forehead. The only good thing about going home was to finally take a cold shower--she was growing tired of the humid weather, anyway.

"Have you forgotten?" Mrs. Genesis craned her neck a little to cast a jaded look at her daughter, "In a couple of days, we're going to celebrate our government's National Day. There's going to be a lot of important people--" She halted her steps and Venus almost bumped into her back. "You're going to be in your best behavior, whether you like it or not. Your father has a reputation to keep, and I don't want you to spoil it."

There was unspoken words, as quiet looks alone was enough. Venus wasn't exactly the brightest light bulb, but she knew that one mistake, even if it's a tiny bit, they would be damned in the higher rings. She lived in the upper section of the Sanctuary for her whole life so she doesn't know what's below; but she only heard horrid rumors. The lower rings was a place an innocent child's mother would warn about, insane mutants lurking in the dark, your worst nightmare coming true...

Venus chewed on her lips, breaking off the eye contact. "Yes, mother."

"Good."

Not from her acknowledgement, Mrs. Genesis went ahead while Venus stayed back for a moment of seconds. She clenched her fists, feeling conflicted with the debate she played around in her head. For once, Venus wanted to stand up to her mother--and tell her that she was sick of being ordered around; but at the same time, she was tired of everything and everyone. So maybe it was better to be passive, if it means they would leave you alone afterwards.

Caw, caw!

She whipped her head around, surprised from the rattling cry. Venus looked to her left, and found a crow, fixing its black feathers dotingly. It then, noticed her presence. But instead of making the same noise it did before, the bird gawked at the teen almost stupidly, and cocked its head almost constantly.

"Venus?" Her mother called out, warningly.

"Coming," Venus almost murmured, in trance of the crow's beady eyes.

But their mute exchange didn't last long, when the ebony creature flocked away, spreading its wings and soaring high above.

___________

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Venus Genesis

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Lyra Genesis
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She dreamed of shadows. Her shadow, frolicking under the dim light of some distant orb in the sky - humans call them the moon, but she'd only ever heard that once - swiftly dancing on her light feet through the thick forest that curved in on itself. Branches grew apart but coiled together in a romance not known to her, tiny and frail and fast.

Her wings were huge already but not heavy, never heavy, and she felt its power as the feathers snagged through prickly, dying twigs and black leaves fell on her blacker wings. She felt their power when she saw a clearing and lunged up, straight into the sky, so she might look at the moon more closely and savor the chill of the wind.

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"The patient's awake! Call..."

The rest of their voices disappeared as hushed tones into the background of her ears. She blinked her eyes that felt heavier than the unnatural weight on her stomach, and her heart thumped rapidly into a coming panic. One eye opened, followed by another, and her vision was flooded with harsh whiteness and organic lines sprouting from the center of her ceiling: flaxen and shining, like a fine brush circling around its smoothness, its ink molten metal. Painted on the roof had a figure outstretching its arms and wings.

She kept her eyes open and felt her pupils sharpen into slits as a human woman, petite and feeble, towered over her face. She pressed buttons on the wall above her and high-pitched noises pierced her ears. She turned her head sharply to the side and saw that her wing was tied, though very carefully and loosely, on another bed apart from her own.

A growl crawled up her throat and the woman took notice of it, visibly flinching, color draining her face as she called for some doctor. Sounded important. She closed her eyes shut and breathed deeply in, filling her chest and lungs as she coursed all her strength through her wings...but they did not thrash against the ropes and white sheets like she intended to. They didn't even flinch.

A tall man nearly made of only bones and skin, little flesh, and only a single eye on his burly head, trotted to her bedside and shoved his face against her. His thin, flat nose bumped her mask - a mask? plastic, thin, breakable, but the fact that she hadn't noticed -

"It...is a young one," He spoke with a thick deep voice and she nearly couldn't comprehend his words. "Get the snipers, if you're worried, but leave the room and I'll get her all nicely settled." Snipers? What snipers? That word sounded dangerous.

Apprehension veiled by hostility pounded on her temples. She made another attempt and her wings remained still, as if dead, and she only managed to lift her feet hard enough to break free of their ropes. She sat up and felt sharp pain on several areas on her back and shoulders, where her wings rested pale and weak, and she found herself searching for the scent of blood. None.

The human woman scrunched her nose in reluctance but sprinted out of the room anyway. The strange doctor clapped his hands and the lights became harsher, the corners of the room dimmer, and he withdrew a small blade from the pocket of his gray coat and leaned down her wing.

Her large feet, clawed and black and thick, kicked themselves to the air and it was all she could do not to wail. Instead she growled, cawed at the doctor, and her eyes felt as though they were nearly out of her sockets when the doctor finished his snipping and dusted her wing.

The ropes firmly holding her wing back before came loose and she felt blood and - and power race through its faint gray lines, and she moved and thrashed it around the wall in a transient glee.

She cocked her head at the doctor who had leaped all the way back to her other side and she could send him flying away and crack his bones against the wall with one flap of her wing. Instead she watched with an awful mix of caution and marvel as he snipped through the ropes, though thick, dusting off her wing as he went. Soon enough, her left wing felt as free as her right, and life began to pound itself through her whole being.

She clawed at her mask, breaking it before plucking it off of her face. She exhaled sharply. Her eyes focused on the doctor now, who stood with pocketed hands and a wide eye.

"The modulation in your throat is different from most brutes who growl at me and try to bite my dear head off," he began with an unblinking eye and lips into a thin line. They curled at the end. "I know you can speak."

She grit her teeth until she tasted blood. Her lips parted instinctively as she gave him a subtle show of her fangs.

"What is your name?"

"What did you do to me?"

He threw his arms in the air in a yelp and twirled around. He clapped twice, and the room was brighter but the lights were evenly placed. "I knew it could talk!"

She barked at him and slid herself off of the bed, spreading her wings straight as she hulked over his thin figure.

He made a sound in his throat that sounded like choking to her, but he responded finally with a smile. He knew how to smile too? "We saved you from dying, essentially. Thankfully you haven't thrown a monster fit yet. If you did, the snipers would have shot you straight at your head!" He gestured to the black hazy dots around the room. They blinked red in the middle. "Now, what is your name? Do you have one?"

"I died?" She folded her wings and threw herself back on the bed, and, arms folded, she leered at the doctor as she asked, "And you saved me?"

"Look at your stomach. All bound and healed. You must feel stronger too?"

She lifted the blue cloth that covered her chest and examined the thick sheet wrapped around her abdomen. "So that's what was so heavy..." She looked up at him, and crossing her legs on the bed, she smiled simply. "Gee, thanks!"

The doctor stared and she felt oddly relieving to see him blink as he did. His eyes did not leave him as he stepped slowly towards the door and pulled it open, dragging the female nurse from earlier.

He murmured something about taking notes down and the woman nodded hastily, her eyes never leaving the winged figure on the bed who continued to grin at them. The doctor grabbed his own seat and her eyes widened as he twirled on the chair, spinning as he stopped a foot from her.

"Now, please answer my questions. Do you have a name?"

"A name? ...Bren, I guess."

"And how old are you?"

"Uh..." She looked around, then at the nurse, who still watched her with worry. "A lot of? Years?"

"Where did you learn to speak?"

She shrugged. "There were always humans nearby, and I learned to listen."

The doctor's face went blank and he blinked a couple of times, most that she had seen that day, before he clasped his hands and jolted to his feet. "Congrats! You aren't under probation and won't have guns pointed at you anymore. Come, you will be fed and tested. Welcome to the Sanctuary."
 
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((Changed her hairstyle into something different!!)

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Goosebumps pimpled throughout her arms when the A/C hit her. The cooling air relieved her clammy skin and although she didn't admit it out loud, she thanked her mother for forcing her to come back home.

Lyra unbuckled her heels and pushed them aside with one of her foot. "Your father wants to talk to you."

Venus internally groaned. The first thing she wanted to do was to peel off the garments she was currently wearing and take a long shower, not speak to her dad who treats her like crap.

"What for?" Out of the blue, a maid came forward and took her mother's shawl and left quickly.

"I don't know," She brushed her shoulders and didn't bother to look back as she went on, "Maybe it's about the festival. Don't be late--" Her mom turned around the corner, and there she was gone.

Blinking, Venus was glued to her spot until she decided to go, but stopped when a different maid rushed to her side. "Miss Genesis," She addressed in a small voice, "Your mother wanted you to know that after your visit, she wants you to finish your homework."

She knows me too well.

_____

Venus never liked her father. He was a stoic man who kept to himself and always looked down on others, keeping his chin high even to his own family. And she hates to admit it, he has power over her and her mother. They both played by his rules, being the perfect "wife" and "daughter". And it's not because it was enough to avoid being a laughingstock, but it's so they would be flawless and a great example of how people should be in society. At first, Venus excused him, thinking he was just doing it for the sake of keeping her and her mother safe. But that was when she was naive and stupid, a stupid child who didn't know anything and loved her father blindly. It was when she came to the blossoming age of fifteen when she realized he did it all for his own benefits.

In the end, we're just toys to him, She thought, bitterly. A sharp pain ran through her chest, but she ignored it. He does not deserve her grief.

While Venus walked through the hallway, she studied the portraits decorating the patterned walls without giving any thought, until one caught her attention. She stopped in her tracks and eyed on it closely. It was a framed picture of her as a joyful child when she rode her very first pony, grinning with that ridiculous tooth gap of hers. Six-year old her sported a denim dress that Venus used to loved, until she had to give it away when time progressed and she grew older. She missed that sense of nostalgia.

Venus turned away, and began the long walk to her father's office.

_____



When she arrived, the office was hushed. The sound of tapping filled the room, coming from her father who eyed on the screen with intense focus.

Not sure if she should interrupt, Venus knocked on the open door cautiously to announce her presence. He did not stop his process.

"Venus," The clicking stopped. His chest heaved and he released a brief sigh. "You're here. Good."

"You wanted to see me?" She hoped he would skip the small talks. It was only going to be pointless. Venus scoped around, taking in her surroundings. She saw a shiny gold plate in front of his desk, reading Geoffrey Genesis. It was one of the ornaments she was aware her dad is proud of.

"Yes, it's about the festival," He folded his palms together, "I'm assuming you know about it, hmm?"

Venus bowed her head.

"You're going to meet a son from a close friend of mine. I was thinking you two could maybe..." He trailed off, gesturing a little.

"Become friends?" Venus finished.

"More than that, actually," The grey-haired businessman corrected. "Don't worry. He's tall, a handsome fellow, and plays golf. I think you two have a lot in common."

Venus hid her grimace, thinking otherwise.

When she didn't say anything, her father knitted his brows. "Well?"

"I'm looking forward to it," She lied. Venus pinched her sleeves.

"Wonderful. That is all." Once again, his interest took place on his computer screen. He pretended as if Venus wasn't there at all.

"...I--" She snapped her mouth shut.

"What?" He lifted a brow, peering at her tiredly.

There was a glint in her eye, but that wore off when she scanned her father's expression. He wanted her to leave.

In defeat, her shoulders hung low. "Never mind." Without saying anything else, Venus slipped out from the room.





 
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The terrain was as uneven as her breathing. She inhaled deep and heavy with each step over the mountains of rubble and limbs and dried blood, only to sputter and cough the smoke invading her lungs. She took a step and unfurled her wings to keep her balance which she lost, anyway, as her clawed foot slid down the slope of garbage, throwing her weight back down. The tiny man beside her - tiny for his age compared to her, anyway, but he was one of the humans - seemed to have very little problem navigating through the trash pile, even with the slight avalanche she caused that sent debris pulling both of them down. She watched him with sharp, keen eyes as he leaned against the giant stick he carried with his uninjured arm before taking a step to the top of the pile.

He stood there like a brave warrior and she deemed him that, too, despite his age, his shaking feet and his slouching form. He hunched over and sat down before turning his bearded, weary face to her. "You are what you are, but also what you want to be."

She found herself giggling like a little girl, and with her sheer size and the tense power in her long limbs she often forgot she really was just a little girl. "More wise things, pops?"

"They are less like riddles and more of a bunch of final advice," he snorted, and his deep, hoarse chuckle rumbled through his weak throat. "Consider it one of the last affections I'll give you."

Her brows furrowed just as he grabbed his stick and nearly whacked her on her head with it. He kept the rod there, just on her forehead, and he closed his eyes as though in a prayer. "Your name will be Bren."

"My name?" She found herself closing her eyes despite her response. "I don't need one."

"Not right now, maybe. You might. How else are you going to make friends?" He kept his eyes shut but the faint hint of a smile graced his face through the thick layer of gray hair.

With a hearty giggle, she cracked open an eye at him. "I need a name to make friends?"

"They need to call you somethin', Bren."

The silence that followed stretched beyond what she could take, and was broken when she began cackling as she repeated her name over and over.

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"Bren, was it?"

"Yes," Bren responded with a curt nod, gaze still plastered on the scene below.

The tower she was brought into immediately after her collapse was surely one of, if not the tallest buildings in the city. The place stretched out a thousand miles into a space as large as canyons, all filled with bustling life that sufficed her with a joy missing from her life. She had only heard of living civilizations from stories passed from mouth to mouth and had believed the only evidence for their existence were the rubble that littered the rest of the earth - but not this place, this haven. It breathed activity and her eyes sharpened at the sights and scents that mixed thickly in the air below.

She had the urge to jump from the balcony, let herself fall and feel the wind before snapping her wings out and letting their strength carry her over the landscape.

"Bren," the stern voice buzzed impatience in her ears. "You are going to be escorted to your residential area, now."

Bren whipped her head and nearly jumped off her feet. That is where she assumed she was living, though she couldn't fathom why she could not just fly there. She would be able to carry her escort as although she was built, she was small, and had front teeth as big as her ears. The lady kept her mouth in a tight grim line as she gestured towards the hallway stiffly. There had been too much to see. Bren's eyes lit up as she descended from the tower in a tube that let her a dashing glimpse of the world from the skies to the earth, which when they finally reached her wings bristled at the humidity and density of the air. It felt heavy in her chest and an unpleasant feeling bubbled in her arms as she kept her wings completely glued to each other.

She was, ultimately, shoved into a small booth in the middle of a busy intersection, towers sprouting from the concrete as though wanting to reach the sky, which glistened with a light Bren had now only seen. Her escort briskly opened the door for her, and the heat dissipated into the outside as the world spun. The booth elevated and Bren lost her balance, letting her wings unfurl a little to keep her balance, but she landed on her bottom anyway as the booth carried her in a straight path, farther and farther, higher and higher, until her escort's tiny face grew as small as a star in the sky.
 
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Days later....

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Long dresses never suited to Venus's taste. The cloth would always drag itself on the ground, and she'd never fail to accidentally trip herself from taking long steps when the fabric doesn't stretch. And she has to say, they're a pain in the arse. But her mom was against it when she heard of Venus's protest, claiming that she already picked out the perfect "party attire". It was a lie, most likely, since the older woman would start with Venus last after she was satisfied for her own being. But it was not anything new--whatever Venus made as her decision was going to be denied.

"Smile, Venus," Her mother gritted between her pearly teeth, elegantly waving at guests that arrived, "You look like a puppy that just got kicked."

A hot wind breezed by and blew her curly locks and it went on her face, but she easily swept them away. It was too hot to wear a long-sleeved gown, but it was too late to objectify anything now. On her mother's word, she forced a thin-lipped grin and copied her gesture by waving. There was grace, but if you know about the noble teen's situation, you could tell she was feeling very awkward. But practicing to not show her emotions concealed her issue.

There was chatter among the rich crowd and you can smell the honeydew in the air whenever a waiter comes by with a tray of sweet drinks, most of them taken because they were just that good. Around the corner, you can see a group of musicians playing various of instruments that complimented a composed piece, fiddling their bow on the strings professionally. It was a light-heart thing to hear, and she supposed that she would feel relaxed; but there was an unexplained emptiness that brought a heavy weight in her chest.

Venus tightened her grip on her drink. I'm not going to let pointless thoughts ruin my day.

She brought her cup to her lips and took a sip, the chilled liquid refreshing her throat. It wasn't simple to swallow her sorrow, but ignoring it was something she can do.

Already Mrs. Genesis left her side to converse with her Republican friends, as Venus could see in the corner of her eyes. One of them said something, leaving her mother to laugh jovially; but it echoed nothing but fake joy. Venus decided to migrate elsewhere, not having a particular spot in mind but far enough to not hear her mom.

"Excuse me."

She was almost startled by a tap on her shoulder, and she spun around to see who it was. It was a guy that looked about her age and she had to admit, he looked handsome. His gel hair was carefully groomed to the side, not a hair out of place, and whoever decided his formal outfit had a good sense in fashion. He was the definition of Prince Charming.

"Venus, I take it?" He wore a confident smirk. "Your father told me about you, and wanted us to meet."

Ah, this must be the son he mentioned about.

"Yes, I'm her," Venus nodded her head, and her earrings dangled. She tried to muster the same expression he gave, but she looked more bewildered. "And you must be...?"

"Richard," He introduced himself and offered a handshake, "Richard Sullivan. It's a pleasure to finally see you."

This was going to be a long day.


 
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It had seemed like a long dream, similar to the visions that kept her body heavy and undisturbed on the wet ground with thick sensations in her chest akin to a crushing pressure and a stream of faint voices. But the search for something lost, or perhaps something she never even had, still stuck to her gut like a burn she had refused to treat; the same hollow in her chest and in her stomach, hands with no purpose, and useless wings.

Bren's folded fingers drummed on her chest as she slumped against a warm and damp roof. Days had passed since the booth that carried her shot onto the platform in one of the cleaner structures in the area. She learned that she had been sent to the Lower Residences, which she could describe as cozy and busy, despite every inch being coated with filth and the stench of putrid innards. The people here were all what they called "mutants", like her, apparently, and truly she had yet to come across a human. She frowned at the thought of a small, weak human fumbling about in a city full of angry monsters that knew little of speaking. She would stand a chance handling them, as she was taller than even some of the giants, though no one had attacked her yet.

All they had done was ignore her, after all, unless she overstepped some sort of informal boundary out of concern or ignorance. A rather old pair had hissed at her when she tried to carry their bags for them as they panted trying to walk. She still saw them in mornings, making the same trip, with seemingly heavier bags as days ticked by.
She sighed from atop a building and hoped no one had told her on an officer in a bid to get silver coins. She still wondered about their value, and why everyone seemed determined to hag even one of them, only to give them away in exchange for food, or a service. She often studied that it was some sort of barter system, but several merchants shooed her away when she dropped candies and shiny pebbles on their stand. Her head spun with her thoughts.

From when she resided in a cave of rocks by a black ocean - for all the trees had fallen and withered with the ashes of civilization – to her search for this home the family of humans sought for, too, Bren had never felt so hollow in the heart. She swept by shops and with a flick of her wrist she could turn the food towards her to fill her easily, though she would have an outraged crowd of shopkeepers promising to lynch her. Her huge stature allowed her to sleep only on the roofs of low, small houses like these, so long as she remained as quiet as she was lonely. The nights felt cold, and despite the density of life around her, Bren was alone.

She gazed up with hazy eyes. The sun seemed bright enough to blind her, but its sheen blurred, its heat a faint warmth tickling her skin that would normally would have scorched her eyes. The wind was stiff and thick with an unnatural moisture. Bren shook her head as she pushed herself on the elbows up.

"This isn't as nice as the humans made it out to be," Bren rubbed the back of her neck as she pouted at the scene. "It's big and busy, but it's so dull."

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Her wings ached, ached for her to spread them wide and feel the power running through each feather. She let them sit folded by her back before sliding down the scales of the roof and on to the dusty streets.

At noon, when the sun stood tall and overbearing with its faint rays, the residents dozed away in makeshift cradles by lamp posts or in their tiny houses, blocking alleyways, entrances, and garbage tins. The streets were still littered with people, but mostly merchants, and often times officers who checked on them. The earth under her feet burst into specks of sand in her every step but she stopped at the whimper of a child.

She assumed it was a child, from her frail build and big twinkling eyes that shut at every pull at her cart. The child had yellow skin that melted to the grown and small, rounded spikes on her back. She struggled to pull again, landing instead on her knees as the cart slid slowly away from her. Bren trudged towards the child, who cried after the cart, with slow reluctant steps, opening her palms as she approached her.

"Do you need my help?" Bren started with a quiet voice. The child turned to her with shaking shoulders, disgruntled eyes that sharpened into slits, but responded with a whisper.

"Why are you talking to me?"

Bren found herself laughing at this while the child jumped. She coughed, and put on a gentler face. "Why wouldn't I?"

The child mumbled and had her hands, Bren figured, folding and kneading each other. Bren went behind the cart and placed her hands on the luggage - bulky, indeed, and she could smell steel underneath. Of course this child was going to have trouble. She thinned her lips at whoever made this kid pull a cart this heavy... "I'll push, you pull."

"O-okay!" The child hurried to the front of the cart and tugged right away.

The pair and the cart made their way into what Bren figured was one of the darker parts of town - the space remained empty except for a few sleeping figures sprawled around under the shade, but even the insides of houses contained no noise.

"Everyone's asleep to prepare for tonight," the child muttered weakly before raising her expectant eyes at Bren.

"Hey, I don't know why you need to look at me like that. I'm not going to eat you," Bren closed her eyes at this and smiled, leaving her vulnerable, and when she looked back the kid's eyes grew wide and twinkled. "What's happening tonight?"

The child turned around roughly and proceeded to pull the cart over in front of a rusty looking shop. "National Day. You're probably new, so you don't know about it," she whispered and turned to Bren with a small quivering to her lip. Oh no. Had Bren scared her by smiling?

"Uh...Came here a few days ago," she tried, and the child's lips spread wide across her face, revealing soft red gums. The child clapped a hand over her mouth, and after that, Bren was unable to hold her laughter.

"W...what's so funny?"

"Were you trying to smile?" Bren managed between fits of wheezing. The girl shook on her feet and glared up at Bren.

"I'm not used to it!" She huffed and balled her hands into fists by her sides. "Only humans do it, so..."

Bren found herself smiling, beaming, even, and patted the bulk on the cart. "You did fine. Want me to help you with this?"

The child chewed on the bottom of her mouth and nodded. "I'm Sybil."

Bren's eyes softened. She took hold of the largest bulk on the cart and widened her mouth to a smile at the girl again. "Bren."​
 
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Richard didn't leave by her side for almost the whole evening. It was life-draining to talk to the same guy for countless of hours, so she was relieved to see another guest whisk him away. He was annoyed but showed no sign of it, despite of the fake plastered smile. Venus blessed the stranger in her head, about to excuse herself when Richard caught her.

"You're leaving?" She assumed with the pleading expression he was giving her, he wanted her to stay and not be left alone with the obvious chatty newcomer.

"I'm sorry, there are other people that I must greet," Venus replied, sending him an apologetic look. He can be angry with her later.

Ignoring his disbelief gaze, she finally ripped the distance between them and hurried away before he can protest. She did feel guilty for leaving him be, but he was good with people, right? After all, he barely made a pause in their conversation for an hour or two, filling the silence with his raving about the government and golf. By now, she understood the whole concept on how to play the sport in just one day.


The sun was falling and night was about to come around, the sky getting darker. The fairy lights was automatically turned on, illuminating the garden. Venus escaped to the back where nobody went to, resting herself at a stone bench as she recharged. The air grown colder around her and she wished she brought a coat, but this can do.

"Venus?" The voice sounded all too familiar and the gruff was no mistakenly her dad. She doesn't turn around, knowing that if she do, disappointment would be written all over his face.

There was footsteps coming towards her way, but it stopped. "...What are you doing here? Why aren't you with Richard?"

Venus turned to face him, casting a tired glance. "He was busy," She dryly informed, now looking back at the roses in front of her. Hopefully, this conversation will end soon her father leave her be.

He didn't buy it. "He said you left him. Would you care to explain?"

Her emotions stirred and God how much she wanted to scream at his face to go away, but she pushed down the anger bubbling in her stomach. She bit her cheeks hard enough to draw blood. "I was tired," She gave him the cold shoulder, not bothering to cover herself any further. It was a poor excuse but she was too damn tired to say anything else and honestly, they've been here before and it was getting old.

"The Genesis family does not get tired," He growled and Venus almost cowered, "I expected better from you. Get up on your feet. Come on, up."

"I just want a break," She said, nearly begging for him to just stop, "Just a five minute break--is that so hard to ask? Please?"

"I'm not going to ask again, Venus. Get up."

"Dad--"

She was not prepared for this to happen when her father was quick on his feet and flew his wide palm to her face and slap! It was like getting whipped, hard and fast, the area stinging which brought tears to her eyes. Her eyeliner ran as her eyes was wide like a deer caught in headlights, the color red blooming her cheek while it did the same for her dad's hand. She slowly brought her hand to her face, unable to grasp what just happened, still seeing stars. Her mind thumped violently, and she had the strong urge to empty her contents when...

"See? Look what you made me do," He spat hotly. "Now what are you going to do? Hm? You can't go to the party like this."

Venus didn't say anything for awhile, until her arms weakly fell to her side. "You're right," She tightened her lips in a thin smile, though it passed off more as a grimace. "I can't look like this in front of all of your guests--I'll only embarrass you. So I'll just be going."

Venus rose to her feet, and her heels clicked when she walked past by her dad and shoulders brushed. And that is when she began to cry.

________

It was midnight when she left the estate. Before when she hopped on a subway train, it was embarrassing to take in all the curious stares from the people she passed by. It was suffocating almost, judgmental whispers bouncing around the garden and her skin kept crawling--no one was touching her but she felt like they were, drowning her in gossip. But it wasn't even pity, it was just another drama they can feed on.

God, do Venus hate Republicans.

Her eyes swept over the unknown territory the minute she stepped out of the train after the last stop. She did not know where she was at currently, but it was a lot better than home. Venus blew a strand out from her face, and bent down, taking off her heels so her sore feet can finally breathe.

Easy, Venus. You'll be okay. You'll be okay.

After reassuring herself, she marched on.

______
 
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Time passed in a quick-filled haze. She had entered the shop with Sybil and chucked the heavy bags of steel and glass to its dusty wooden floor, the door creaking shut behind them, before the lights flickered on and a paper roll of ash lit in a choreography of a tall, lithe creature staring down at them both. She had sucked in a drag from the long ignited ash and exhaled the dark, putrid smoke as she sauntered down the aisle between the empty tables. Sybil had greeted her with a curt bow and a scurry to the counter to retrieve a bucket and rags, and a solemn, twinkling apology in her eyes when she waved Bren goodbye. Bren made to follow when an elongated, freckled hand halted her face.

"Never seen you 'round here," The woman began with a voice colder than her skin when her hand brushed Bren's thin nose, ghostly white skin with freckles that looked like the same burnt ash from her smoke engraved into her vessels, scattering themselves in a constellation across her lithe body. She wore a black robe that fell loosely on her tall, slender form, though she only towered over Bren by a few inches.

The woman did not speak after that. Bren made to talk as she dragged the bags of steel again to follow Sybil. "Do you take care of Sybil?"

The woman stopped her then with a glare of her eyes that slowly narrowed into inquisitive slits. Bren frowned at her attempted intimidation - did she want a fight? She replied after another long drag and swayed back to the counter. "Sybil told you her name? You must be real' decent, if she did that."

Bren received the validation with a small smile and hopped to follow her light trail of white - she noticed the woman left powdery footprints that faded just as quick as they appeared - with an awkward gait to maneuver her hulking size around the constricted space between tables. The woman introduced herself as Nympha, owner of the bar, Rumland, a tribute to her old home, and left it at that before addressing Sybil to clean the drinking stations with Bren. Sybil trotted down the hall with a bucket of steaming water and cloth before beckoning Bren to the stations.

Bren had finished the task early enough to work on everything else, with Sybil frantically reminding her what not and what to do: wipe the tables but don't move them, never rearrange the glass bottles on the stations, be careful of the lights, dust the ceiling with the duster and not her wing. They had finished with Sybil panting and her spikes drooping, appearing a paler yellow, though her eyes twinkled merrily when they talked.

"Does she take care of you?" Bren asked again. The reptilian girl nodded, her scales spiking up a bit in amusement. "She keeps trying to intimidate me, but if she takes care of you, then that's okay."

The child laughed and slapped a hand on her mouth in embarrassment. "Intimidate? No, she's just like that, Bren."

Indeed she was. Her voice was shrill and rose to a breaking, cold peak when she summoned for the child. She retreated to the back where Nympha busied herself with tasks that befuddled Bren, as hard as Sybil tried to explain it.

All Bren understood was that she would be getting free food later.

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She hunched over to squeeze herself out the door and opened her arms to welcome the chilly evening air. The streets around the bar were still empty, but she could smell roasted meat and hear fanatical yodeling from far away, and the crowd of life was fast approaching their area. Bren inhaled and opened her dark wings that had begun to stiffen before tucking them behind her back again and entering the bar at the sound of her name.

Nympha had called her, not Sybil, which explained the fragile shrillness in volume, as though she walked on thin ice with her voice. "Bren. You're taking over Sybil - she needs to help me with drinks and food. Serve anyone who comes in 'ere with coin on them." Nympha's hands glided over the counter as she spread out small cups and large glasses, dancing in a tempo of fluidity around the bar as she placed tissues and paper on each desk with the precision of not knocking any seat out of place. She spoke with a husky finality before huffing - Bren assumed that was her way of being amused. "Do well and you're gettin' the better left overs."
(( blame midterms for delayed reply. D: ))
 
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The walk was unpleasant and it had the opposite effect she was hoping for; leisure. Of course, with a ragged dress and a chaotic hairstyle, she was bound to draw attention; but not like this. It wasn't like the gazes from the party, curious and nosy; but it was hatred that she felt, the heavy vibes that was uncomfortable for her to handle. She could feel people's eyes bore onto her back, and instinctively she walked faster, hugging herself closer as a way of comfort. She wore her heels again, tired of carrying them around. At first, she thought about home, this place was clearly not safe. But Venus refused to go back where her parents awaits, she will not be the frightened child they raised her to be. Although, she would be lying if she wasn't at least the slightest bit timid from the new environment. Most of them, she assumed, were mutants. They all came in different sizes, the phenotype varied as well. They were the most creatures that glowered her existence, muttering something under their breath that she couldn't make out.

Where she came from, there was mutants as well, but not this many; and absolutely not this intimidating.

Realization dawned upon her.

If she was correct...

"The lower rings," She whispered. The color on her cheeks was drained.

This was the place she was warned about for her whole entire life.

She looked around, diverting her attention from left to right, unable to focus on one area. Everywhere her glance stayed on, she had the urge to throw up, her anxious heart pounding against her chest.

Breathe, Venus. Breathe!

Venus didn't care where she was headed to anymore and found the nearest building open, then ducked inside. The bell above the door chimed, revealing her presence. She was welcomed by musky air and it stank of alcohol and sex, and she instantly grew awkward. This was a whole different world for her. This wasn't luxury, no, not the lifestyle she lived in; this was a nightmare.

Her ears picked up a whistle in the background and chills went through her spine, knowing the familiar tune.

"Wow! Well, well, look at that."


A chair scraped the wooden tile and she heard heavy footsteps coming towards her way. Venus dipped her head, staring hard at her feet, fists clenched and lips trembling.

"Aren't ya a sight for sore eyes, eh?" A coarse finger tilted her chin and she was forced to look. "Come here often, pretty lady?"

The stranger who called her was hideous, physically and mentally. His smile was twisted in an unsightly way, his teeth yellow and crooked, and although it was just a finger, she had an urge to scrub the dirt off from her body. And judging from his odor, his scent was unbearable to breathe in. He was green from heads to toe, eyes like a reptile, and his pattern was unusual and scaly.

"N-no," She squeaked, trying to shove away but this time, he grabbed both of her hands; this mutant was stronger than he looked.

"Don't go now, I ain't done with you, yet."

"Please, leave me be--"

This was a horrible decision after all--she should have listened to her parents. The lower ringer was terrible.

 
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The door chimed and steps creaked on smooth varnished floors in a pattern Bren grew quickly familiar with, an orchestra she tuned herself to with the glide of her huge feet upon wood and the careful twist and turns of her stature to squeeze into and out of table corners. Nympha demanded her name and she would chip in at the counter to be handed an armful of glass and liquor by the little but graceful Sybil. The little girl would mouth the table number or point with her yellow horned head at whichever customer with a little smile and Bren would waste no time speeding around tables with as much care as she had to practice. Broken glass, knocked drinks, spilled contents, completely wasted meals - Nympha glowered at her over the piling value of mistakes when the bar still had space to breathe in and suddenly the promise of free food dissolved. When creatures fluttered into the bar like stray dogs and moths - some of them did look quite like dogs - and the air imposed a contradiction of feelings for Bren, heavy with the weight of business, a pressure on Nympha's part, but light with the yodeling celebration of the populace, Nympha kept her criticisms to herself. She still shot Bren nasty glares, though.

Bren knew the extent of her strength and prided herself in her endurance, but the swarm of orders and inquisitive customers along with the constantly growing attention from regulars thinned her patience to a point.

She glided to a table and set down a drink without a word, then to another, balancing a filthy tray while keeping her broom strapped to her hip. She stashed the tray quickly by the sink behind Sybil who scurried over to clean it immediately. Bren felt the backs of her muscles twitch, her wings itching to spread and fly around as relief from this suffocating though enjoyable atmosphere, but she remained by the counter and in a slow pace delivered the final order for the rush. She had always wondered where her slight frame would fit in - certainly nowhere in the wild, dead plains outside this city - and it seemed like navigating the scattered seats and tables in a bar gave her build some purpose. Her slender body allowed her at least her grace, and the curious eyes of customers flattered her mutual interest.

"A bird mutant? Aren't they supposed to be in the higher rings?"

"This kid seems new. Young, too, if you know what I mean..." Bren's ears perked up at that, dying to figure their meaning, but conversations pressed on without her time to respond.

"Think she dropped by a couple days ago. Saw her by the booth - never knew this shit was mad huge!"

Smirking, scoffing, words she had not heard of before. She only felt a more intense curiosity. Tell me what I'm meant to be doing here. Tell me where here is. Tell me where I can fly right now, without apparently getting shot...

She ambled around the bustling crowd as they soon perched their attentions on somewhere else. The door chimed and steps creaked on smooth varnish, but they were sharp and not heavy, small and not slow. A familiar wisp flooded her nose and her eyes gleamed gold in a thrill she thought had vanished...

"A human..." Whispers of 'monster' and 'chaos' and 'police' rose among the crowd immediately but fell again to silence. Bren heard Nympha growl and slide further behind her counter, glass bottle cluthed by a pale, translucent hand. Sybil latched on to her ghastly form with a quiver and Bren suppressed a swelling rage, dominated instead by an excitement that quickened her heart and her breath.

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A reptilian approached the human - a small girl in fine clothes, though they looked as tattered as everyone else's, with dark hair and a figure so slight Bren would have felt sorry. And she did, even more so, when the slimy scum of a customer grabbed the girl's chin with a force that could smash her fragile bones into pieces. Bren paced towards the customer and around his table, situating herself right in front of the little human.

"Welcome, custo-"

"You fuck off, bird brain tit," the reptile growled with a grin though his eyes did not leave the girl. Bren's jaw twitched and her pupils narrowed into thin, sharp slits like knives inking her large golden eyes. Her patience gone and went - she had none for this treatment either way, and a loud growl rumbled from deep within her chest, reverberating across every surface of wood around the bar. She could feel her own challenging purr around her, buzzing a sweet song that carried a promise of blood if the reptile did not back down.

The creature, in all his sluggishness, snapped his head back up from the human girl and puffed his chest out at her, eyes rolling back to reveal moist green ones, and opening his mouth in a grin of seventy set fangs lining his mouth and his forked tongue. "I'll fuckin' cook you, you tweeting winged fuck."

Bren left her mouth in a thin, shut line, but her growl rumbled as deep as the call for blood bubbled within. "Do not touch the girl again."

She heard wood scrape on wood, glasses fall off tables, liquid sloshing and lots of whining about until her sweating skin cooled with the air her space had given. The crowd had all scurried off to the side behind a nifty barricade of tables and chairs, with Nympha having hidden Sybil in one of the rooms.

The reptilian mistook Bren's observation for innatentiveness and attempted a leap at her throat, scaled gills flaring out around his face and an extra set of teeth ready to pierce her neck -

Bren's clawed hand snapped up at the creatures neck, black, hard nails digging even into the scale to fish out rotten white blood and pus from the reptile's flesh. The creature writhed and squirmed in her grip which tightened until she could feel her finger deep within steamy, thick flesh, even as the reptile's forked tongue lined with bleeding teeth lashed at her pale skin, leaving blotches of red in its every whip.

Bren raised her free arm, wings spreading fully and back arching to prepare her force until Nympha piped in with a stern scream masking a turbulent panic: "I will feed you to slavers and sharkpigs if you do not let go of him." Her voice cracked in the last few words but when Bren cocked her head to her she was greeted with stone cold eyes and a baring of teeth. "Do not get me arrested."

Bren snapped her head back at the reptile and opened her mouth for him to get a glimpse of her own vicious fangs, and his eyes rolled back into his old white ones with rounded pupils. She dropped him in a haste but not without nearly stomping on his face as she chased him out of the bar.

Silence celebrated in its reign over the rest of the customers. Bren turned to the human girl warily after she had wiped her clawed hand against the back of her wing, and reached with delicate steps. Images of humans she had met in the past appeared as both fond and distant but dreadful memories: happy, old eyes, frightened screams, small bodies and blood, dances around a fire...

She relished in the memories as she sniffed the girl from afar before giving her the gentlest of smiles, hiding her fangs with her lips. "Hello, I'm Bren. Are you okay?"




 
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Everything went by in a flash; Venus couldn't tell what was going on but her gaze between the reptile mutant was blocked by a pair of black wings; and then she realized she was being protected, but by who?

During the whole argument, the brunette darted a nervous glance at the back of her mysterious savior's head, and tried to move closer to see the pervert's reaction, and she found out that it was anything but nice. He snarled, hissing insults that was tainting to hear and threats Venus didn't want imagine, but the person in front of her was equally on the same level, not showing a sign that she was going to back down. She didn't know how things worked in the lower rings, but she was not an idiot; things were about to get down, judging how the crowd began to back away, leaving their seats and hid by the shadows. A small, frightened gasp escaped from Venus's lips as she watched the feathered bird (She assumed, taking note of the wings) snatch the collar of the reptile and held him up in the air, choking him without mercy.

Venus then stepped in, her eyes widened in fear, "Wait---"

A scream disrupted the verbal brawl between the reptile and the bird, along with Venus who was startled by the interruption. She looked for the source of sound and it turns out to be the bar owner; or it happened to look so; because Bird backed off their hostile gesture when the bar owner shot them a warning. "I will feed you to slavers and sharkpigs if you do not let go of him." Although it wasn't directed to Venus, she flinched under the harsh words. "Do not get me arrested."

But it was for justice? The Bird didn't mean to cause a ruckus, they were only trying to help...

They dropped them anyway, and the reptile ran with their tails between their legs; and it was almost pathetic to watch them dash outside from the bar. Peace washed over, the crowds whispering in relief and went back to what they were doing. That was...quick. Venus blinked, still yet to understand the concept of how things worked in the Lower Ring. Usually by now, the cops would've been here and arrest everyone in the room.

"Hello, I'm Bren. Are you okay?" Venus jumped, still shaken from the small event. The voice came from Bird, and it wasn't the same, sinister tone they held; but genuine concern. Venus could feel herself getting relaxed; but she held up the wall once again, you can't trust anyone here.

"Bren," Venus repeated, tasting the name on her dry tongue. It was a simple name; easy to remember. Quite generic. In her city, everyone tried to make their best; naming their children as flashy as possible in order to stand out. Even the name "Venus" was too basic. She held her palms together, gripping them tightly, "I'm...I'm all right, I suppose---" The bartender gave her an eye, and Venus pretended to not notice, "You almost killed someone." Wow, Venus; way to go to state the obvious. But it was the first thing in her mind that roamed and stuck, until she expressed it through words.

Wait, I can't believe I've forgotten my manners. Hanging around here was already becoming a bad influence.

"I'm Venus. Thank you for...saving my life," She said, distractedly; unsure if she should still be talking to the stranger, though she should consider her now as an acquaintance.



 
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Bren's eyes, as soft and as warm as her beam, welcomed the girl who didn't look all that shaken up despite her torn dress, ragged hair, and the grime smudged on every other place besides her cheek. She shuffled on her feet and Bren knew of the blatant stares thrown at her all around the room so she directed the human's attention back to her with an impressive puff of her wings.

"You almost killed someone..."

It was a stated fact - out of fear or amazement, Bren wasn't sure as her only basis was the girl's breathlessness and wide, shining eyes. They were as lost as she was but the girl made an attempt for search, fingers grappling at air and feet stepping around in her slight space to get some grounding, perhaps, Bren thought. The bird wasted no breath or time moving back to give her some space. She turned her head to the barkeeper whose eyes pierced with a coolness well-acquainted with her ghostly skin, but she had retreated back to her work while Sybil hid behind her. Bren felt the tension in her shoulders dissipate as the small reptilian girl stuffed her yellow snout into the sink and stole quick glances at Bren's way. She swallowed thickly.

She snapped her head back when the human spoke and a smile graced her face once again. "I'm Venus. Thank you for..." with eyes averted here and there, her tension buzzed through her body and Bren gawked. "...saving my life."

"Venus is a nice name," was the first thing Bren could think of saying before she dared to touch the girl's arm. Her claws had retracted back into her thick feathered skin and it was only more human-like hands reaching out, hovering above flushed skin with a bump and a quick caress to direct the human further into their space. "I...don't really know what to do with you, since I got the feeling that humans aren't supposed to be here." She walked slowly and never tore her eyes away from the girl, a constant grin on her face when she spoke. "Especially pretty ones."

Bren beckoned her further with a slight gesture and whipped her head back and forth between Venus and Nympha, whose stony glare hardened as her eyes settled on Venus, raking her small stature with eyes sharper than Bren's claws would ever be. She coughed at that, and Nympha sighed before raising her head and letting the airy, scentless smoke oozing from her white body emerge as a cloud slowly enveloping Venus. Bren took a harsh step forward but Sybil piped up in the back. "She's checking for diseases. She's...a human, after all, and," Sybil had looked up at Bren until her eyes glossed and she shoved her face into the dishes piling on the sink again. "We don't know how long she's been here."

Bren's eyes softened on the little reptile's figure and hoped to get a chance to soothe her soon. The child had not spared the human a glance since she trampled in here. "We could always just ask her. She talks." Bren groaned at Nympha, but the older woman already glided back to her post behind the counter.

"She's safe. I'll contact the police when the shop's closed. I can't stand losing customers if the department ever chooses to shut this shop down for the night because some tramp ambled in like an intoxicated fool," She spat at Venus and hadn't retracted at the scowl dawning on Bren's face. "You take her upstairs and think up some story of how we can explain the situation without getting sent to god knows where..."

Bren's jaw hardened and the stubby black feathers around her neck spiked up in a momentary flare before she made to stalk upstairs to leave Nympha and her ranting with the higher rings kept on. She was still in the dark about everything, so having a human to talk to in the midst of mutants who didn't know words beyond 'shag', 'kill' and 'eat' was a fresh opportunity to get some light shed on her. Nympha would shove her off somewhere if she asked questions.

Bren halted by the corner and waited patiently for the human girl to follow her. She angled her body so her wings would flare up like a curtain to cover whatever staring Venus might endure. "Let's go, Venus."
 
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