theresalwayshope | 015} now look up, well the skies are black {and they're getting darker all the time}

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[When the scream rings out, Allison drops like a lead weight.

It's a sound she knows well, the banshee's howl. It's painful, it's terrible, and it's terrifying because she's helpless. She would fear a dupe, if she hadn't smelled Lydia personally, if she hadn't known her for the short time they ran together...

As it is, she can't think of anything. The scream won't allow for it.

She regains awareness in the middle of the earthquake and the dark, confused and terrified and totally without direction.

Something breaks. The dark is endless.

Then...it's over.

Blinking against the sudden light, Allison flinches at the assault of new sights and sounds. She's in a room she doesn't know...a living room space, warm and neat yet lived in.

Her nostrils flare, sorting through the scents: human (Allison), rabbit, hay. There's gun oil, lead and gunpowder (bullets), the distant smells of cosmetics and breath mints and old traces of her father's aftershave. Turning in a slow circle, she spots pictures on one wall, photos of her...and on the coffee table, she takes note of a folding combat knife sitting next to some magazines.

Reaching out, she picks it up...flicks it open, then shut again.

All clues point to this space...belonging to her somehow, but there are weapons in it.

Tucking the knife into the back of her jeans, she fumbles in her pockets, looking for her comm. Finding it, her hands shake as she flicks it on, her face filling the feed a moment later. The fear is open on her features...and those that know Allison Argent well, as well as those who met her in the arena, may note enough differences in her demeanor to determine that something's very wrong.]

Everyone in the pack, please check in...I think there's something wrong.

[Allison kills the feed, then puts her comm back in her pocket, venturing cautiously out of her cabin. The doors in the corridor are familiar, but somehow wrong...

The number on the door matches. The infirmary is just down the hall. There is no question in her mind, this is her cabin. If not for the strange doors and the absence of her old room at home behind her door, she'd have sworn this was her Barge.

But, as she goes cautiously investigating the different levels of the ship (excluding warden areas at first, because she obviously doesn't have access), she slowly comes to realize that she's not where she belongs.

This ship is not the Barge she knows.]

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[Mason, irregularly for him, is angry.

This isn't the Barge he knows, either. He wakes in an unfamiliar room, with an unfamiliar rabbit instead of his own pet.

But he spots someone he knows - someone to interrogate.

With a scowl, Mason rushes for Allison, grabbing her by the neck and hoisting her up to the wall to pin her there. In his other hand, he holds a tiny brown bunny by the scruff of its neck. The bunny wriggles, terrified out of his tiny mind, while Mason stuffs him in Allison's face]

You'd like to explain this, then?

[Allison catches his scent just before he appears. She's so off-balance that it slows her reaction time, and before she knows it she's choking, pinned to the wall and terrified with a rabbit in her face...the smell of fresh prey, and not enough breath to howl for help...

When she felt her control falter, Allison let it slip away.

She shifted in his grip, features distorting and eyes bleeding feral gold with a strangled roar. Clawed hands moved, one snatching at the tiny bunny in his hand to try and get it away from him, the other grabbing the wrist at her throat, claws sinking into skin as she tried to break his grip.

And, in lieu of that, she lashed out with one foot, ramming it against his chest as hard as she could in an effort to free herself.]

[Usually, pain isn't a factor in Mason's dealings. He's the undead - he can handle pain better than most on the Barge. He gives a laugh as Allison fights against him. In his hand, the bunny lets out a high-pitched, terrified squeal, curling up.

Except this Barge is...different.

He's not healing.

Mason blinks, looking down at his wrist that's somehow still bleeding. It's not healing. Why isn't it healing?

This is all the time he has to think before the foot comes up and he's thrown back, still with the baby bunny in his grasp]

Little bitch!

[Allison keeps hold of his wrist, flying forward with him so she lands astride his chest. Claws swipe to rake at his chest, then his arm again, trying to make him release his hold on the little creature.

Prey. Mine.

The wolf's rage swells, and as she struggles with Mason, the rage bursts free as she gets right in his face, fangs bared as she opens her mouth...

...not to howl, but to roar, a sound that shakes the doors around them, vibrates through the solid floor, and can be heard anywhere in the ship.

It's a sound she hasn't made since she first boarded as an inmate...a sound she hasn't been able to make.]

[He hits the floor on his back with a cough, eyes wide and startled. It's like he's never been a reaper before in his life: all his powers are gone, an' oh, christ, she's bearing down on him.

He shuts his eyes with a shudder, bringing up his arm to protect his face as Allison's roar rattles his teeth. Johnny, in that moment, wriggles free of his grip and hops a few steps away.

...And promptly falls over. He can only take so much excitement before his rabbit instinct is just to give up.]

[The moment the small creature flees and falls, Allison's attention is diverted as she leaps off Mason and onto the little bunny.

Prey. Kill. Feed.

As clawed fingers curl around its tiny body, lifting it off the ground, Allison feels the urge to slaughter the little creature for food rise with sudden, painful sharpness. The wolf is in control. She's terrified, she's been attacked, and every instinct is screaming at her to survive.

Glancing over her shoulder at Mason, she bares her teeth, snarls...

...and tucks the limp little rabbit against her chest.

Not food. No killing.

With a deep, shaky breath, she rises, turning to stand over the fallen reaper. She took her blows in the arena, she's been choked here in the corridor, but she feels no pain. She doesn't realize how quickly she's healing...all she sees is the threat in front of her, all she feels is the warm little life she's got cuddled against her chest.

Weak. Protect. Mine.

With an angry sneer, she turns on her heel and starts walking back towards her cabin.

A rabbit lived in there at one point. Perhaps she can take care of it until she can find somewhere safe for it to go.]

[Johnny in Allison's hands sits stiffly and motionless. He seems to believe that if he lies perfectly still, no harm will come to him.

Mason can only gape as Allison - who shouldn't even bloody HAVE powers!! - bolts away from him with his property]

015} now look up, well the skies are black {and they're getting darker all the time}

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cw; misogynism

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