Recognize My Noise :: [ Day 4 // SB + AV ]

been told to be afraid
of everything that lives within

Flipping a good-sized rock over with the toe of her boot, Denali side eyes the mundane patch of sand beneath. Nothing. This is a strange place where anything is possible — like the soul of a living creature within a tree that bleeds and dies just the same as any human being — and Denali doesn’t know what to expect anymore. Throwing a glance over her shoulder to ensure that Lex is still occupied with investigating the corpses of the mutts they’ve killed, Denali holds her breath as if this will also silence her footsteps and pokes her head into a patch of brush... just in case. Anything could be anywhere. Nothing needs to make sense. "Gotcha!" She hisses with false triumph, but ...uh-uh. Not there.

Honestly, she’s been a good secret keeper. Her sleepless nights have given her ample time to send her freaky bird followers out with all sorts of messages, with enough time left over to creep the surrounding areas of their camps. Lex snores loudly enough that she can go pretty far and still hear if anything were disturbing the camp. Besides, the birds yell like crazy at anything that moves. Nothing to worry about... She stands on tiptoes and cranes her neck to try to catch a peek at the far side of the brush. Nope. Hopping as covertly as possible, she still can’t catch sight of anything — or anyone — moving. There’s no sign of —

Something moves in the scraggly patch of trees on top of the next hill. Denali drops into a crouch and fixes her stare at the trees, paranoia getting the best of her. The trees themselves don’t seem to be possessed like the one she just fought, but ever since she received the rose implying that she was being watched by more than just cameras, she hasn’t been able to stop turning her head at every shadow or whistling breeze. Trolley? the message asked. Bette shouldn’t know about the landship, but obviously everything that shouldn’t be possible is exactly what happens in this place and so Denali can’t resist peeking underneath another large rock. It doesn’t look as if it should be able to hide a person, but that girl already defied all kinds of logic so maybe... no. This is stupid, Denali, even for you. Just go back to Lex.

Something moves in the trees once more and the next thing Denali knows she’s holding her breath again, crawling up the hill on her hands and knees to sneak a better look. "Fucking Ripred! I knew it," she screeches when she’s finally close enough to confirm her suspicions, launching herself at Bette out of crazed relief that she’s not going out of her mind. Having wrangled the other girl into a frenzied hug, it’s only after Denali’s arms are unjustifiably wrapped around her neck that she realizes. Wait. NOPE. Uhhhh... She has most definitely gone totally out of her mind. "Stalker," she jokingly mutters, taking an awkward step back and blushing from the tip of her toes to the crown of her little freckled head. They hung out once, for maybe... an hour? That does not a hugging situation make. Not to mention that Denali nearly stabbed her in the throat by accident. "I mean..." trailing off, she tries to give a casual wave and smile, but the expression kind of melts and goes all weird, half up and half nervously jagged. "Hey."

To add insult to social injury, the earth crunches behind her and she turns to find Lex looking equal parts alarmed and confused, sword partly unsheathed in case this is the very strange beginning of a fight. "Oh! No, no, no," Denali frantically waves both hands at her ally. "Put that away. This is Bette! She’s cool. Like... superpowers cool. Like she ran right up a wall this one time," as if there have been other times, "and gravity couldn’t do anything about it. It was wild! There were knives everywhere and she just went — Zoom! Bam! Pow! — and it was, yeah, it was pretty much the coolest thing ever." That’s when Denali realizes that she’s not exactly playing things very cool herself, dies a small death of embarrassment, and falls into a pit of shame that spontaneously forms right beneath her feet. Only, the eternal damnation of hell isn’t quite ready for her yet (y’gotta kill or be killed to get out of this one, kid) and so she’s spit back out so quickly that no one even has time to notice that she completely disappeared for a moment.

Standing there in a tattered lace gown that has memories of being white, but is now more blood than fabric thanks to multiple stab wounds, Denali Lyons should look like the patron saint of badasses. The mangled flesh of her chest where she was stabbed in the heart and lived to tell the tale — insisting upon stitching it up herself — is on full display thanks to a dangerously plunging neckline. Studded leather eyepatch? Check. Enough rhinestone encrusted armor to blind her foes before they even see her butcher knives flying at them? Fuck yes she does. A custom crafted battle jacket embroidered with a lion screaming daggers from atop a mountain of skulls? Well obviously that’s happening. From her ravaged princess-turned-warlord getup to the matted braids of her hellfire hair, there’s nothing about her that should be saying I am SO overwhelmingly intimidated by you and yet it’s a wonder that she can still piece words together. "This... is... Lex." Denali flicks her gaze over to her ally, deeply jealous of her unshakable ability to remain calm and collected in any situation. "She’s... sorta... okay too." Maybe Lex had it right and Bette really is about to kill her — weirder things have certainly happened.

Fingers crossed.