There was once an underground bunker, it had once been full of life.  And then they all left them to his misery.  His wife had gone into a nearby town to live alone in a hut made of brick and wood.  Not safe in his lair, underground, metal, built to withstand the end of days.  Which had never come.  Which meant it was going to come - to end all life.   But now his family was gone and he sat alone in the depths of the tunnel, going topside only to hunt food and bring in fresh stores of water.  

Topside was dangerous, every snap of a twig had his attention.  Every bird chirping in the trees.  But the odd silence of the afternoon collecting wood for added warmth and comforts was all he had in his arms.  All around him eyes flashed in the shadows.  The silence was deafening so when the growl sounded in front of him, he dropped the sticks.  They clattered to the ground as a large grey wolf leapt from the path and then there was darkness.  He hadn't even had time to scream before the snout of the wolf tore through his throat.  

Blood gushed.  His body felt cold as he lay on the dusty leaves of a harsh winter.  No one would miss him, he wondered if anyone would ever know.

The subway car was half empty. Unsurprising given the hour.

Tenzin’s knee bounced. She’d scrubbed herself clean at the safe house, but she could still scent the faint tang of blood on her skin. Little worry circled Amy Pond’s fate; she trusted Jacinda’s leadership implicitly enough to know the woman would do whatever was best. She didn’t need Tenzin for that. And it was fortunate, really, for when Silver had bitten her from the dream, Tenzin’s usual calm evaporated. She couldn’t sit still. She couldn’t stay caged in human walls.

Only there was nowhere to go.

She could almost hear the whine seeking escape from her throat. The agitation itched up her skin with the need to run, far and fast, like her legs might eat up the miles and ocean between her and her pack; to find thick fur and wet noses and home. They had been the ones to nudge her in the direction of Moscow in the first place. She had a purpose here, and meaning, even if those things had yet to become clear. Trust was easy. Following direction was easy.

But why must she do it alone?

Restless fingers found the bracelets at her wrist, instinct reaching for the Silver’s fang. But of course the memory had found new purpose. Tenzin regretted nothing of the gift; the human company was valued, and undeniably things had been easier since Jacinda. But it was not enough either. Not without the wolfdream too.

She left the city’s transport tunnels when the moon was still high, drowned out by human light and stink. Long legs roamed a route to the surface. Tenzin loped through ever quieter streets until she didn’t know where she was. Suburban lights had faded, the city smells a lighter touch. Humanity itself a lighter touch. Then she ran. Ran like brushfire chased her from the den, thoughts reaching wide and desperate and confused. Reaching out to nowhere.

Sterling dragged Risha to Moscow University library on a Saturday.  "Ster, baby, why we here?  So boring."

Sterling smiled at her best friend.  "You can go home.  But I'm staying."

Risha sighed and wrapped her friend's hands in her own and danced in circles before starting back down the path.  "Can we at least get ice-cream on the way home?"

Sterling laughed.  "Of course."  Sterling held up her wallet where her mother had given her money for just that.  "Mama gave me money."

Risha hugged her friend. "I love her better than my own."  Risha laughed.  "It's a good thing your mama and pa got you instead of some slugs like mine.  Always drinking and stealing."  Risha came from a bad neighborhood, but her brain gave her a full scholarship to Sterling's school.  Mama and Pa paid for it on their dime.  They were big wigs somewhere, but Sterling never really paid any mind.  She didn't care.

The University was huge.  They were on campus with all the cute boys playing frisbee on the lawns, or lounging in the grass or benches.  Risha and Sterling giggled as they passed a particularly cute pair of boys before bouncing up the steps of the library.  It was almost as massive as the campus was for all the rows and rows of books.

"How are we ever going to find anything in this place?" Risha whined.

"We ask of course." Sterling said matter-of-factly.  She waltzed up to the front desk and after being ignored she cleared her throat several times.  But no one bothered looking her direction.  Sterling shouted. "Excuse me." and then sheepishly looked at the people passing as they glared at her raised voice with a murmurred, "Sorry."

Sterling had given it a lot of thought over the past few weeks.  She'd written the poster several times, Risha had helped as they finally got it perfect.

The poster had a picture of her parents and brother as provided by their obituary.  Their names were written in big block letters and outline in glitter and sparkles.  Her birth name, and her birth date were given as well as well as the hospital she had been treated at.  

Not only had Sterling found out she was adopted, she had had a heart defect.  Her parents had told her she was perfect in every way, and she beleived them but she wanted to hear it herself, so she'd gone to the doctor and he told her the same thing, and so did the second opinion.  Her parents had gone with her both times in support.

Sterling held up the picture in front of herself and Risha held the camera.  "I'm looking for my birth family.  I don't know if there is any, but if you know my birth family please contact me."

It was a heart felt plea.  Sterling pushed the submit button and the video was sent to all her social media accounts - she hoped it would spread far and wide - specially to America where her family might be found.  She was born a dual citizen - though that didn't matter either way.

Sterling went about her business but the video never really left her thoughts.

Sterling (Lucy Durante) Mishina

Age: 14
Origin: Moscow
Occupation: Student

Psychological description
Sterling is a good kid.  She plays the violin in the school orchestra, is a half back on the varsity soccer team, and maintains straight As.  But she doesn't know what she wants to be when she grows up.  Sterling doesn't have many friends in school, most people call her a nerd despite her athleticism, but she doesn't much care.

Physical Description
Sterling has grey eyes, a pale complexion with a lot of freckles, and straight red hair.  She doesn't look like anyone in her family, and it wasn't until recently that she found out why - she was adopted.

Powers & Supernatural Powers
Channeler

Current Strength Level
1

Potential Strength Level
37

Channeler Experience Level - New (not yet)

Reborn god: Nephthys (Egyptian)

Biography

[[ Sterling does not know the following history ]]

Sterling was born Lucy Durante to Chadwick and Helena Durante.  Chad was brother to Bryan Durante, and he was born into an organization called The Atharim.  But when it came time for Chad too choose he forsake the life.  Killing for the sake of killing was not his thing.  He didn't bevel their dogma.  His father and brother disowned him.  It was a big scene that lead to Chad running as far as he could from his brothers - he ran all the way to Moscow.

Where he met a local girl, got married and they had two kids.  Chadwick Jr and Lucy.  CJ was three years old when his little sister was born.

But it was also that same year that the Atharim came for Helena.  Lucy was in the NICU suffering from sever heart failure and then miraculously Lucy was well.  The Atharim came, but it wasn't just any one, it was Bryan.  He'd caught wind of his brother's folly - marrying a reborn god! 

Bryan Durante killed his brother, his sister-in-law and his nephew before the heat became to hot and he had to flee back to America or risk being caught on foreign soil under murder charges.  Lucy Durante fell through the cracks of the Atharim due to her limited life span and Bryan's abrupt departure from the country.

When Lucy's parents turned up dead, she immediately became a ward of the state and put into the foster care system.

Lucy was quickly adopted by Slav and Ia Mishina and given the name Sterling because of her eyes.  Two years later Ia gave birth to a son, Vlad.  And a year after that a daughter, Ilana.

[[ The remainder Sterling knows. ]] 

Sterling looked nothing like her family and it was something she was self conscious of as she grew older.  By 14 it had become something she spoke about often.  Ia sat down with Sterling at an ice-cream shoppe.

Sterling ordered her favorite flavor - bubble gum and they sat down at a table.  Her mother was acting strange.

"Darling," Ia said to her, "You know your father and I love you very much, right?"

"Of course.  What's this about mama?"

"I don't know how to tell you this, Sterling, baby.  So I'll just come out and say it.  Your father and I adopted you when you were a baby."


"What?"  Sterling shouted drawing a discerning eye from her mother and the crowd around her.  

"We love you.  But I wanted you to know that's why you are different.  We don't know anything about your parents, only that they were American."

"What else do you know?"

The conversation was fueled by anger and hatred and Sterling stormed out of the shoppe and wandered the neighborhood for several hours before she returned home to find her favorite meal, and her family all waiting on her.  They all told Sterling they loved her, and that they understood her anger.  And they'd give her all the space she needed, but they were here for her.  

Her anger fled, she wasn't mad at her family.  They had loved her, lied to her her whole life, but they loved her.  

After dinner in her room, her father knocked.  "Sterling, I have something for you." He said quietly through the bedroom door.

"Come in." 

Her father opened the door and came in holding a sealed envelope. "This is everything we have on your birth.  The name you were given, and the names of your family and the reason you were put up for adoption.  It's not a pretty picture to paint for a teenager, but it is what it is.  We love you."  

Slav left her with the envelope and Sterling stared at it lying on her pastel colored comforter before she picked up her wallet and called her best friend Risha. If anyone would understand it would be her.

A thousand pinprick stars littered the black sky, like the world had been swallowed by the heavens. It wasn’t the first time he’d peered curiously into the between place Nimeda had showed him, and it was not the first time he had watched this one’s dreams in particular. But it was the first time he had passed the filmy threshold into them.

She sat amidst the darkness, gaze upturned to watch the constellations. Little else focused beyond formless shadow in the landscape around; just her and her nightly vigil. Auburn hair tangled against her shoulders, her palms cupped peaceful in her lap. A line pierced between her brow. She did not look down.

Sören’s gaze cast a wary net despite how little there was to see. His fingers flexed, testing his control. He was not sure of the consequences that might bite from such a breach, and Nimeda had certainly been her customary vague about the details. But desperation forced an impatient hand.

“You never used to be so hard to find.”

Her eyes swivelled and fixed, a frown pinching her lips to join the furrow of her brow. Confusion reigned for a moment before it crystallised to something vaguely annoyed. “What are you doing here?” Her accent lilted musical to foreign ears, belying the snap. She glanced into the hazy darkness as though seeking devils, but only found him.

“You haven’t been answering my calls,” he accused. His lips thinned to the displeasure of that, but truthfully it was the fountaining frustration within pushing him more than any perceived slight. His hands slunk in his pockets, gaze blinking away. Headaches plagued him frequently, burning every cognizant thought from his brain. Nimeda’s recent probing irked him too, stirring old vices to the forefront like so much irritating dust. He needed something concrete. Something tangible.

“You realise how rude this could be considered. If I had news for you, Sören, you would know.” Her thin shoulders titled into a shrug, but there was consideration in her gaze now. Too late he perceived the fly caught in the snarl of another’s web. When she stood it was to an unimpressive height, closing the distance unafraid. Starlight caught her pale skin almost to translucency. Chin angled up, she searched his gaze like she might find answers within. She would be disappointed. “What is the point of all this digging? What is the point of living forever if it’s in a ruined world?”

Sören’s jaw tightened, but he offered no answer. Truthfully he had none she had not heard a hundred times before, and of those she would accept nothing without a tiresome amount of debate. Her arms parted, unswayed by his silence. “I am the splinter of a splinter. I can’t watch all the corners of the world on my own. It would be easier if I were not alone.”

She was small, even in her dreams, and fragile as a bird cupped in a palm. The disparity had fooled him once. He stared down. Glared really. “A pointless task.”

“Because of what the soothsayer saw in the bones?”

“All things end,” he snapped. Such tired and bone-wearying philosophising was not why he had risked entry into her dream, and neither did he wish to crack the lids from secrets he had let her peer within once. She did not even deny it, and yet it was determination in her expression, not fear. Such fanciful commitment to a higher purpose. It grit his teeth in his skull, fanning the barest smoke from the fire of a temper rarely roused. He squared his shoulders. “What is the point of making a better world if I will not be here to see it.”

“I despair that you cannot answer that for yourself, Sören. If I had but a fraction of your gift, I would not be so wasteful with it.”

Nox had stayed out later than anticipated.  Nova was aching to go out and Nox mad sure to thank Thalia for a great day and told her they should do it again sometimes.  He was exactly looking to hook up but a friend that was something he needed.  Not that he didn't have those, but this was different.  His other friends wanted things from him, which included Sage - he'd always wanted the rush of information and the stranger the more Sage liked it.  Which is why he'd followed Aurora to begin with after meeting her.

After a quick run through the park with Nova Nox and the pup were back at the pet friendly rat hole he'd taken out so he'd have someplace to sleep.  He'd keep it one more night just to be safe.  At least until everything with Carmen panned out.  Which he did hope it did.  A place to stay was great.  And he'd keep looking for a job that did what he needed.  Soon as he got that situated it would be easier to look without Nova being an issue.

Nox had only been to Kallitsi once before.  And he didn't know if he should knock on the front door, or if he should go to the side.  But since Carmen didn't say Nox knocked on the front door and hoped it wasn't a bad idea.

(( while we wait ))

Sage couldn't hear the other side of the conversation, but he as soon as he was asked he smiled at his boyfriend and nodded.  He didn't say anything as he slipped into his own mind still curled up against Aiden.  It felt good to feel his warmth next to him.  Though Sage missed the ice cold of the server room, he did love to be curled up next to a warm body - and one that was very much into him and him alone was better.

The first thing Sage had to do was pull up some records on Rowan and pull several pictures for a good program to run facial recognition from.  Aiden had been hiding from his sister, but it was quick work finding out about the restaurant in Moscow.  And from there he started tracking her movements.  Sage wished for his computer, he didn't want to zone completely with Aiden.

Sage pulled him self from the flow of information and knocked on the panel between them.  "Cooper, can you get me my laptop? Stop and pull over, I need it."  He looked to Aiden.  "I don't want to completely ignore you.  But I have a search running, but it's so hard not to get pulled in."  He didn't want to be worse than an addict - he knew he was one, he exhibited withdrawal symptoms just the same.

[[continued from The City's Dark Jewel]]

Emotion squatted like a cuckoo’s child in Oriena’s chest, sparking a darkening anger the more she became aware of the violation. Even so she had refused to follow Ilya as he had directed Kasun’s unconscious body to be hauled from the pit. Worry pierced but was brutally cast aside in favour of following the direction of the hook embedded in her chest, pulling ruthlessly on the bloody strings until she pulled it fucking free, or confronted its source.

The blade of her heels impaled the stone of the Underground. She travelled down into the dingy caverns below the club, and lower still, a storm the wise recoiled from. No sunlight ever reached this deep within Moscow’s forgotten bowels. No people lingered where she finally came to pause, either. “I know you’re there,” she purred. The storm of her gaze searched the coiling shadows above her head. Cold prickled her skin, shivering her bare arms and legs. A caress of fear she embraced for fuel. Her fingers flexed, impatient.

It started like a faint smudge of light, a trick of the eye that coalesced and grew; consuming the shadow and using it to paint features. A woman’s body, garments in slow and rippling flux. Ori’s gaze burned to drink it in, recollection tightening hatred in her stomach. The hot breath of memory stirred like a desert breeze, stinging.

“An oath was made.” 

Hair swirled in undulating tendrils, a face never quite revealing itself in entirety. The twist of smirking lips; the sharp blade of a cheek bone. Ori never saw eyes. An echo of pain reared to behold the creature again, so virulent she actually checked her lip for the tang of blood. Loss tugged like a black hole caved her chest inwards. Only fury filled the void. Hers or its, she could no longer tell.

“What the fuck did you do to me?”

“An oath was made.”

Her jaw tensed, the distance between them closing. She was on the lip of something uncontrolled, railing against the bars of this unknown cage -- utterly uncaring of how ripping free might hurt her. Ori remembered well enough what she had said in the heat of possession, the creature’s grip enough to squeeze every bloody drip of life from her soul. The flame of betrayal lit from a trail gasoline, a violent burning, now sharpened with the gut wound of the queen’s loss. 

A low laugh spilled from her throat. Darkness glittered her gaze. “To help free you from your chains,” she teased. Her lip caught between her teeth, containing the smirk, but charmed by the first whisper of conspiracy her head canted.

“Lady of Sorrow, your oath is called.” A hand reached forth, sinking into Oriena’s chest like cold mist. She watched it disappear, taking another step forward in provocation. The fire raged, but Oriena thrust herself right in, indignant for the burn. Her attention rose to the creature's hidden face, and this time the curve of her smile was deranged. “And We will have vengeance.”

It gripped her, the loss of the queen's companions, each soul plucked free like fingers ripped from a hand.

“You are wanting.

You are weak.

You were always weak.”

The words stamped like a boot crushing her heart, yanking free something ancient. It rose inside her furiously, flooding her bright with power enough to consume her whole. Oh, how the world would burn.

Agony blazed equal to the joy, as the creature slipped inside.

Continued from: Sanctuary


His head pounded from inside. Like a cracked bowling ball, heavy and unsteady, he lifted his eyes and found the world blurry. Didn’t matter. He stretched outward.

..But everything fell numb. There was no wall to punch through, no barrier to breech. But something remained, a glimmer of light unattainable as grasping stars in his hands, but with all his might he tried, harder and farther than ever under Nox’s tutelage to seize it to his control. Tightness gripped his chest. Fear rising and falling like a vengeful tide. His head throbbed blood in his ears.

Minutes lost to failed attempts, he had to stop. Take a breath. Two breaths. Steady, slow. Even. Focus on the internal.  Slow the heart rate. Breathe steady. Mind calm and logical. Breathe and assess. Cold stretched under his forearms; fingers tingled with diminished blood flow. The pinch of zip ties clamped wrists to a metal chair. The same bound his ankles. More squeezed his chest.

He remembered them tying him down. Remembered flexing every muscle in his body; enlarging the circumference with which they’d tighten the restraints. Little things, like the shape of hands fists or flat, opened that constriction. Even a small amount of movement would be enough to break free.

Eyesight returned with the calm permeating his body. The room was dark; ceiling low. Concrete and cinderblock. Machinery filled an entire corner of the room; but he couldn’t tell what kind. Pipes and vents. A giant tank rotted with rust. That didn’t bode well. There was one door around which glowed a dim light, enough to realize there were few items he could use as weapon when he escaped.

His eyes roamed the corners and ceilings. Smelled the flavors of the air. Survival was the first priority. All else could be determined later. They wouldn’t kill him so long as Cayli was free. That was his only hope. She was with Natalie and Jensen. If all went according to plan, they’d disappear in the Custody.

He carried a razor blade in his boots, but given that they were already removed, he anticipated the enforcers that worked him over were trained enough to anticipate the tool. Many of the best cartels recruited from special forces of lower tier nations. Given that most of those were trained by the US in the first place, Jay wasn’t foolish enough to underestimate what he was against. He had to get free before they decided he was too comfortable sitting around waiting.

As quietly and swiftly as possible, he scooted the chair toward the rusted tank, seeking a sharp edge to shave through the ties at the wrist.