The Divine RPG - A Hellish Pandandom

*Hal has been more than happy to talk about anything with her. The stories of her old home are fascinating- it's as though he's talking to a walking time machine. A very beautiful walking time machine. It takes a lot of effort not to make a fool of himself by falling or sinking into the muck due to a distracted, misplaced step. Something keeps pulling at his muscles too, but he assumes it's his body being unused to living in quicksand. It's painful, but nowhere near as bad as the bamboo earlier and far more easily explained so he doesn't bother to mention it.

When he follows her gaze his stomach tightens like a wire. He's used to making snap decisions but Hell doesn't forgive mistakes. He peers ahead, putting his arm protectively in front of her without realising.*

I don't know. If we keep low in the grass we'll be able to get a good look at them before they see us. They're definitely humans, aren't they?

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You would know if they were not human. *Even as she speaks she points to a very demonic looking toadish creature which is beginning to gnaw on his shoe. The body is amphibious but the eyes which slant slyly up at him are disturbingly humanoid.*

They are certainly human, the question is one of intent I am afraid. *She gingerly lays her open palms on his outstretched arm and pushes it down from in front of her. She knows she should probably be offended by the intimacy of such contact but he is her champion in this place and she has no wish to scorn his protection. With that in mind she does keep to the grass but creeps forward crouched low concentrating hard to ignore the hideous leeches as they suction to her ankles. She wishes to be close enough if not to see these shades clearly then at least to hear them.*

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*Hal allows the frog to chew on his boot; throwing it into the swamp could jeopardise their position. He sticks close and crawls alongside her out of defensiveness and curiosity.

His arm is ripped by another pain and he just manages to stifle a grunt and keep his elbow from buckling beneath him. He rocks back onto his heels and listens in on what the newcomers might be saying, while holding his arm in his lap.*

*He whispers as quietly as possible.* Be careful- don't go much further.

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*She strains to hear the conversation. The words elude her but she can hear their voices clearly enough to recognize one. Both smooth and somehow grating the tone of the woman's voice suggests she is aggravated and yet to timid to act on the obvious hostility she feels.*

Does that not sound like the peasant woman Lilah? *She leans forward to try and catch some of the conversation and even as she does feels a tearing splintering sensation shoot up her leg. She cries out in response reflexively and falls forward, the stricken limbs not wishing to support her at the moment. She manages to catch herself with Hal's help and freezes to see if the shades above have caught them evesdropping.*

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Are you all right?

*Wesley's "help the helpless" response kicked in when he heard Beauty's cry, and he responded immediately. He sees almost as immediately that Hal has caught her, and he takes a second to size Hal up. He wants instantly to like him; he gets a good vibe from him, but experience has made him mistrustful so he puts up guards, drawing back slightly and assuming a closed posture.*

You don't belong here on Five, either, do you?

*he extends his hand, wincing only slightly as the muscles pull oddly tight.*

Pryce. And you are...?

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severus-snape1.livejournal.com

*Snape catches up and studies Hal closely while giving away no hint at what he's thinking. He does note that Hal seems to have the Level One mist accompanying him, so he feels somewhat better about the possibility of his joining their group.

But he does regret running; his legs really ache now from the extra strain on top of the endless aches that have begun to plague him.*

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*Beauty does not notice the tall dark man right away. Once Hal has helped her down onto what passes for a bank she sits with her knees slightly bent and her head resting on them trying to even her breathing and fight the tears. It is not so much the pain, that at least for the moment is fleeting and sporadic though she is certain it will worsen before long. The tears are more for the centuries of wandering without hope of a familar face. For not clearly remembering the last hot and palatable meal, the last new gown, the last of anything from her own life. When she senses the new shade she looks up quickly and draws back distrustful of his polite and formal manner. Such behavior is not normal for the majority of this world's inhabitants. Even Hal's introduction gave her unease and she would probably not have warmed to him so quickly if he had not seemed to share her wariness of Lilah.

This man is traveling with Lilah which could mean she has hired him to be her guide or champion or something else. For a peasant she does not strike Beauty as being very self sufficient or good at hardship. If he has attached himself to Lilah she is not certain it speaks well of him. So she sits waiting for her champion to feel this newcomer out and trying to decide if she should follow her instincts or her innate curiousity.*

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*Hal stays crouched beside Beauty in defense, but he instantly warms up to the two men because they seem perfectly cordial. He's also a little too trusting. Seeing Lilah is a relief- he's truly glad that she's alright.

He puts on his nicest smile to speak, stands, and shakes Wesley's hand eagerly.*

Hunt. Friends call me Hal. You're right, we're not from Five. But boy are we ever glad to see some friendly faces.

*He wants to go back to Beauty to make sure that she's alright, but the hope of allegiance has to come first.*

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severus-snape1.livejournal.com

*Snape cracks his sore finger joints and cracks his neck a bit as he stands slightly behind Wesley, almost like a secret service agent. He does not smile at Hal, but on the other hand, he does not frown, either. He merely waits for Hal to acknowledge him or for Wesley to introduce him.*

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*Wes accepts Hal's handshake and immediately analyzes it: firm, confident, but not dominating or threatening. He returns it in kind.*

Pryce. Wesley. And this is my companion Snape.

*He purposely shortens his own name both out of habit, out of brevity, and out of paranoia. He never knows when someone might know his family's name and can't be certain what it might mean if they did. He looks around now for Lilah.*

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noshoesinhell8.livejournal.com

*Lilah has crept closer but is still hanging back from the group, watching warily to see which way the wind blows, or in this case, which way the swamp muck flies. She can't admit it to herself, but she's actually a little glad to see Hal. He was treating her a lot nicer than Wesley is. Beauty she's not so sure about, though. The little tramp still looks stunning draped in muck and leeches. It isnt' fair. She watches the men greet one another while appraising the sitch, and the look on her face suggests she doesn't care one way or another how things go, so long as a decision is made quickly.*

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*Beauty keeps her head resting on her knees until the tears have stopped and dried. She pulls her skirts back just enough to get at the leeches suctioned around her ankles and picks them off one by one until her ankles are angry looking and yet somehow more visually appealing than before. She rises, smoothes the gown as best she can and tries one last time to comb her damp tangled curls with her fingers.

Drawing herself to her full height she summons all the regal bearing she can muster and walks calmly over to stand slightly behind and to the right of Hal. She does not speak but waits for him to present her and if he is observant he soon realizes that with the arrival of the strangers she has slipped back into a more formal and guarded manner.*

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*Ever the gentleman, he does indeed introduce Beauty to the others.*

Mr. Pryce, Mr. Snape, this is *He decides to omit 'Her Royal Highness' in case this seems pretentious of him* Princess Beauty.

*He steps to one side to allow her to handshake or curtsey, or however princesses greet people.*

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*Beauty steps forward to take stock of these two men. The black haired black eyed man obviously has money and rank for he is clothed head to toe in the richest black attire. The other man has clothing as foreign to her as Hal's but it is not his clothing that strikes her. His bearing and attitude mark him as a man of breeding and stature though he does not strike her as being of royal blood. Perhaps a Duke or Baron. She steps forward sweeping a composed and royal but softened look on them. She inclines her head the slightest bit and in her lilting voice asks*

From where do two such distinguished gentlemen hail and what rank do you hold?

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severus-snape1.livejournal.com

*Snape nods deeply and solemnly. He decides that he does not wish to give too much information about his wizarding background, as he is not certain whether Beauty is the sort of princess to cringe and wail and point accusatory fingers at wizards and witches, or if she is the sort of princess who honors and respects them, or if she is somewhere in between. He knows he has no powers here, but that might not make a witch-burner any more tolerant.*

I am Severus Snape from Spinner's End, a scholar of many things.

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*Wesley takes in Beauty's composure and bearing and immediately marks her as genuinely titled. She appears to be medieval, French from the cut of her gown, and not terribly crazy. He really isn't certain how to behave around a princess, contemporary or medieval, so he averts his gaze and diverts the conversation.*

Neither of you are native to this level. You've escaped your levels, just as we have. How?

*He's instantly suspicious. It seems an awful lot of shades they've encountered have done just that. It doesn't seem likely that it should be all that easy to accomplish. Is it possible that they're being allowed to wander the levels for some reason?*

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*Hal answers him out of habit for assuming a dominant role in groups.*

I believe I just wandered out- as difficult as that was- but I didn't realise it was something noteworthy. Though now that you mention it, Hell does seem a bit too organised to allow that sort of thing to go on a lot.

*He stands straighter and pulls his shoulders back just imperceptibly. He's around much older men, so he's quick to try and prove that his youth isn't a hindrance.*

How did you escape?

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I needed to move on.

*He gives no more of an explanation than that before gesturing for them to follow and saying "It's possible there's safety in numbers. You are more than free to join the two of us *notably excluding Lilah* if you like.

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*He looks to Beauty before answering tentatively.*

That sounds good. What do you think, Princess?

*He gives the word 'Princess' with as much politeness and dignity as he can, so it doesn't come off as sarcasm.*

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*Beauty seems less certain than Hal, the dynamic between these two new men and Lilah does not seem particularly stable. But she has chosen Hal as her champion and so relies on his judgement. He seems to find the frightening young noble admirable and indeed he does seem to exude a sense of command.*

I believe I am ready to leave this place behind.

*She holds her hand out for him to present his arm as a proper escort. She will not have these gentles see her as anything less than her father's daughter.*

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