This is a cloaked and hooded figure you can't see or hear or smell or, one supposes, taste-- but you can feel its presence in the cold air and the way the world seems to shrink, turning dim and dull and grey.
This is all the pain and anguish and despair and misery you've ever felt, whispering over the pavement to sink its claws into your bright little mind and drink away your happiness.
A group of children her age, throwing up signs to ward off the Evil Eye, all in her direction.
She's lived a longer life than most girls her age.
There is blood. Grandfather's. He hangs, supported through the middle by a jagged stake of wood. He was the strongest person she knew.
She's carried this feeling. She's felt things like this. To this intensity.
"Now, I must sleep. I fear we shall not meet again. Farewell, my beloved, my beautiful vampire hunter."
But she could always put it aside before. Stuff it in a locked box in her soul, where its chill burned and gave her the energy to go out at night when no other Christian dared, to try and make it some anyone would.
But now, that box won't close, and its contents are bleeding out, and her vision is getting fuzzy and her eyes are burning. She clutches her whip.
That's what Gus thinks. Sonia thinks she's going to pursue.
And whip it good.
So she doesn't have great aim and she's weakened by trying to block out the clamor of things that she wants to forget. This is what she DOES. If she isn't fighting monsters, then she isn't anything.
Say hello, because Melly's flanking you on the left and Des is swooping in from above with its suspiciously round and wrinkly-looking mouth (seriously, JK, sometimes I wonder) open to SUCK OUT YOUR SOUL.
Oh, yeah, she is totally going to kick y- a child crying. her punch broke something. stares of hatred. Oh God. she lops the head from a man who she'd bought bread from yesterday. his skin is white, his teeth pointed. One was bad enough. she hides in the back at church, straining to listen. Now there are three around her, they are taller, older, but they still keep back, protecting themselves with the sign of the cross as they shout at her and the box isn't so much bleeding "No, Sonia. You have made me believe in your strength." he is bloody and weakened from her blows as fountaining out and she can't see anymore and she is drowning the fish men pull her into their lair. she can't breathe; she can barely fight.
She drops to her knees, clutching the whip close. She can't fight them. She can't fight. She can't.
Panic supplies details that her eyes can't see through tears: A humanish shape, though inhumanly tall. White skin. Fangs.
NO!
She's too weak to fight. But to allow this goes against everything, every single shred of flesh and bone and soul in her. She can't fight. She can't fight. But she won't allow this.
With all the strength she can muster, she reaches out with her soul and something stretches.
The world stops.
She twists out of the hideous, dead grasp, stumbling back.
The respite won't be long. Not even enough time to catch her breath.
The metal skeleton of stairs clings to one side of the tower. She runs. She's used to stairs. Dracula likes them a lot.
Her feet hit the ground- not dirt, but more stone- and she keeps running. There will be a way out. There will be a safe place.
The break ends, and she's spat back out into time. It's cold.
It's bigger than the forest. It may be bigger than Transylvania. The towers don't stop.
Neither do the... whatever sort of demons they are.
So neither does she. She cracks her whip at a few, at least fending them off. Adrenaline and blind panic are the only things keeping her going right now.
Dracula's castle is full of all sorts of horrible beasties, but that's okay because they're not horrible beasties that rip away at her will to live simply by their very existence.
Things that can physically kill her, she can deal with.
This? Not so much. Her legs give out, and she slams against a collection of long-ignored garbage cans.
Also luckily for Sonia (well, debatably), there's another transfer point due in... right... about...
...now.
FlashBANG.
"What the kriff?!"
Meet Satya niFalland, who is currently frantically trying to stop her landspeeder before it plows straight into a wall.
She manages.
Just.
The startled rush of adrenaline staves off the effect of the Dementors long enough for her to blink foolishly at the not-running-anymore Sonia, whose refuse-bound resting place is mere inches from the hovering vehicle.
"...going somewhere?" she manages.
Hey, she may be a poor Jedi student but she's still a Jedi student. Rescuing people is in the job description! Kinda sorta.
There is a girl. On some kind of FLOATING METAL THING.
OK, you know what? We're not trying to make sense of this. Nothing in front of her feels evil, and the girl looks as surprised as she does. She pushes herself up against the wall.
"ghosts... all over," she gasps out. "Gotta get away."
This is all the pain and anguish and despair and misery you've ever felt, whispering over the pavement to sink its claws into your bright little mind and drink away your happiness.
This is the Dementors of Gotham.
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She's lived a longer life than most girls her age.
There is blood. Grandfather's. He hangs, supported through the middle by a jagged stake of wood. He was the strongest person she knew.
She's carried this feeling. She's felt things like this. To this intensity.
"Now, I must sleep. I fear we shall not meet again. Farewell, my beloved, my beautiful vampire hunter."
But she could always put it aside before. Stuff it in a locked box in her soul, where its chill burned and gave her the energy to go out at night when no other Christian dared, to try and make it some anyone would.
But now, that box won't close, and its contents are bleeding out, and her vision is getting fuzzy and her eyes are burning. She clutches her whip.
Mama... Papa... Grandfather...
Holy Father...
Help me!
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Delicious morsel, yes, tasty, yes, but--
It has seen holy weapons before.
Felt them before.
And has no wish to do so again.
Back it floats, just a few feet.
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None of her family had been cursed with this gift before her- to appear mad, jumping and lunging at things that any sane man could see were not there.
"If she can see them, she must be the one who brought them!"
The icy bleeding from the box eases just enough for her to kindle her soul.
The air flickers, silvery. A chunk of her faith, in tangible form- another gift from God- whooshes out like a charging beast.
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What the hell?
All right, that's it. Gus* is just going to whirl its cloak dramatically and go find some prey that doesn't bite back.
Stupid humans and their stupid desire to survive.
*Hey, even soul-sucking fiends need names, right?
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And whip it good.
So she doesn't have great aim and she's weakened by trying to block out the clamor of things that she wants to forget. This is what she DOES. If she isn't fighting monsters, then she isn't anything.
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Fine, be that way.
Gus has friends!
Their names are Despair and Melodrama.
Say hello, because Melly's flanking you on the left and Des is swooping in from above with its suspiciously round and wrinkly-looking mouth (seriously, JK, sometimes I wonder) open to SUCK OUT YOUR SOUL.
You meanie-head.
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a child crying. her punch broke something. stares of hatred.
Oh God.
she lops the head from a man who she'd bought bread from yesterday. his skin is white, his teeth pointed.
One was bad enough.
she hides in the back at church, straining to listen.
Now there are three around her, they are taller, older, but they still keep back, protecting themselves with the sign of the cross as they shout at her and the box isn't so much bleeding "No, Sonia. You have made me believe in your strength." he is bloody and weakened from her blows as fountaining out and she can't see anymore and she is drowning the fish men pull her into their lair. she can't breathe; she can barely fight.
She drops to her knees, clutching the whip close. She can't fight them. She can't fight. She can't.
Alucard...
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cold fingers on her shoulders
her face
tilting her head up
Panic supplies details that her eyes can't see through tears: A humanish shape, though inhumanly tall. White skin. Fangs.
NO!
She's too weak to fight. But to allow this goes against everything, every single shred of flesh and bone and soul in her. She can't fight. She can't fight. But she won't allow this.
With all the strength she can muster, she reaches out with her soul and something stretches.
The world stops.
She twists out of the hideous, dead grasp, stumbling back.
The respite won't be long. Not even enough time to catch her breath.
The metal skeleton of stairs clings to one side of the tower. She runs. She's used to stairs. Dracula likes them a lot.
Her feet hit the ground- not dirt, but more stone- and she keeps running. There will be a way out. There will be a safe place.
The break ends, and she's spat back out into time. It's cold.
She keeps running.
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WHERE DID THE HUMAN GO?
...goddammit, Gus, this is all your fault.
*sulk*
*sulk*
*sulk*
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It's bigger than the forest. It may be bigger than Transylvania. The towers don't stop.
Neither do the... whatever sort of demons they are.
So neither does she. She cracks her whip at a few, at least fending them off. Adrenaline and blind panic are the only things keeping her going right now.
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Dracula's castle is full of all sorts of horrible beasties, but that's okay because they're not horrible beasties that rip away at her will to live simply by their very existence.
Things that can physically kill her, she can deal with.
This? Not so much. Her legs give out, and she slams against a collection of long-ignored garbage cans.
God... help me...
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...now.
FlashBANG.
"What the kriff?!"
Meet Satya niFalland, who is currently frantically trying to stop her landspeeder before it plows straight into a wall.
She manages.
Just.
The startled rush of adrenaline staves off the effect of the Dementors long enough for her to blink foolishly at the not-running-anymore Sonia, whose refuse-bound resting place is mere inches from the hovering vehicle.
"...going somewhere?" she manages.
Hey, she may be a poor Jedi student but she's still a Jedi student. Rescuing people is in the job description! Kinda sorta.
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There is a girl. On some kind of FLOATING METAL THING.
OK, you know what? We're not trying to make sense of this. Nothing in front of her feels evil, and the girl looks as surprised as she does. She pushes herself up against the wall.
"ghosts... all over," she gasps out. "Gotta get away."
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