PLAY THE DEVIL'S GAME // OPEN

[GABRIEL]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]He couldn't say he'd been doing better since checking on Har, but he'd been...handling it. Somewhat. Moon would probably disagree, and he wasn't precisely wrong considering the lion had found him unconscious and bleeding from his eyes. Thankfully, that hadn't happened again. Gabe gave a tree a knock, just because he really wasn't going to risk anything at this point, especially not by having a "how could it possibly be worse" attitude. That was just begging the universe to throw him miles up shit creek without a paddle, and he'd already spent a ridiculous amount of time up shit creek. Gabe could use a spa day, maybe retreat to a remote island far, far away from politics where he could sleep on the beach all day and hack up pellets in peace. Not that he expected to ever accomplish that, unless the world suddenly righted itself and people stopped being themselves. The odds of that were so low an ant couldn't limbo that bar, so for the time being, he was stuck feeling awful.

Nothing new.

Closing his eyes, the hybrid took a few deep breaths to try and clear the sudden dizziness from his head. Surprise. It didn't work. Forcing them back open, Gabe figured he would try to ignore it and walk it off -because that worked too- but the ground was suddenly an ocean's tide, and he fell flat to meet it, more sticky crimson steadily staining his face. "Mátame ya," he sighed into the dirt, closing his eyes again so he wouldn't have to watch everything continue spinning like tops, though it made the tears even less comfortable. He just needed a few minutes, then he could stand up and wash the shit off his face before anyone found him. Optimism.
[align=right][i]——INFO

[LAZARUS]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]He kept telling himself that Gabriel was fine. Perhaps it was because he had yet to experience what others had with him — the bleeding, the fainting. It wasn't that he didn't see the effects anyway, he just knew the hybrid enough to know (hope) that he would survive it. The old man could survive anything the way that a roach could. Was it bad of him to laugh about that now? Someone screwed with him enough to make him half owl, why not a little bit more? Any other day, he might have laughed. Now, the thought leaves him bitter and sick. If there was anything he could have done to shepherd him away from the mess of this place, sweep it under the rug and give him another day of being just on their own, he would have. Spitting up pellets and nipping at his ears, teaching him to read, to be less afraid and angry. The world now feels complicated and cold; the longer the days last, the more certain he becomes that he wants no part of it. Yet he stays. What's the alternative?

Whatever it is, it involves leaving behind somebody that he could never lose. The Cane Corso had kept at least one green eye on the hybrid for a while now, since the body dropped in front of him. And today, maybe because of that, Gabriel was not so lucky to stand before someone's arrival. He trailed a few curious moments after him, head low to shake off the stares he had gotten earlier. The murmurings. His worries fade at the sound of a thump, heavy paws stirring up dirt as he runs. "¡Papá! ¿Qué te ha pasado?" For a moment, Laz can't feel his body as he stands there, but when the ground turns to water underneath his feet, he manages to let it carry him. The dog's cold nose nudges his side, as gentle as he can manage. "¿Estás bien?"

[charlotte.]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"][color=black]Blood. The stench of it drifts by on the breeze. It calls out to her; a siren's song. After so long spent in isolation, far from other beings, Charlotte finds it difficult to ignore the sweet, succulent scent of fresh crimson. Slowly, like a flower of a night, muscular limbs unfurl from a curled position and raise the prolific huntress to a full standing position. A shark, she trails the alluring pheromone through an amber sea of grass. Blonde fur and pallid ginger rosettes melt into the landscape, obscuring the young female from all but the most observant of gazes. One, two, three, four. Careful, muted pawsteps announce the predator's arrival. The breeze shifts, bringing with it softly spoken voices. Voice. One laced with fear and concern. Charlotte quickens her pace.

A button black nose breaks through the vegetation, the rest of a muscular form follows suit shortly thereafter. Saliva puddles within clamped jaws, facial muscles tensed as the wildcat resist the urge to feed upon the bleeding hybrid. She sucks in a deep breath; inhalation and exhalation. And then, peace. Now relatively unfazed by the sight of that decadent crimson, the vampiress finalizes her approach.

Pale green eyes sweep over the prone hybrid, examining the wounds and taking into account his obvious exhaustion. Charlie regrets never bothering to learn how to heal beyond the basics. "What happened to him?" she asks of the cane corso who stands over the owl-cat hybrid. A grimace mars her features, and she dips her head almost apologetically. "Sorry--I mean, is there something I can do to help?" Charlotte is new here. A matter of hours prior she arrived at the border. Suffice to say that she is unsure of how to interact with the residents, especially after spending so much time as a loner. The strawberry leopard shifts her weight; at a loss for what to do. She wants to help, but she doesn't know how.

[GABRIEL]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]That carefully constructed misdirection was- well, Gabe, for once, preferred it that Laz held out for his recovery. Someone had to, and it sure as hell wasn't Gabe himself, because ever since he went to check on Har in Sunhaven, he felt...unhinged, more so than before. He kept up as fine a front as he could, but he disappeared sometimes to hide these bouts, and other times to- he couldn't remember. Another of his many problems, and he didn't want Laz caught up in any of them, even though he knew it was inevitable. Especially when he was still working on figuring out what kind of bastard framed his son for murder. Fainting and dribbling a bit of eye-blood didn't matter so much, when they were probably just signs of his own body attempting to kill him. He couldn't put that past himself, whereas Laz's situation was definitely an external problem. Some asshole was wandering around with the satisfaction of getting a few minds turned in doubt. Gabe couldn't let his problems get in the way.

He just needed a second to get up. A second too many, evidently, and his stomach twisted into knots when he heard Laz's voice. "Mijo. ¿Qué onda? Ay la llevo." Gabe hid his face in the dirt, attempting to discreetly rub away the blood with his leg, but discreet had already gone out the window. Goddammit. This was the very last outcome he'd wanted.

He rubbed a bit more, dark gaze momentarily drifting up, where he could see an unfamiliar leopard. That was even less comfortable. Someone new in town and already acquainted with Gabe's issues. Perfect. "I am fine. I just need a few minutes."

[align=right][i]——INFO