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    18 Results with the "Carlos" tag


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      Discussions and Waiting

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      by Tower Curator Eva watched as Zoe left with the body of Simon. Somehow, Eva was hoping that she wasn't about to return the body to the hospital. Its condition was far from pristine. Seeing it would probably cause a lot of grief if he had anyone that cared about him. Perhaps returning his ashes would be the best course of action. Brushing his hands together to get rid of chalk dust, Devon stood from the circle. "Everything is drawn correctly," he said. "Seems a sick kid won't do. At least, not one that sick." With a…
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      Reformation

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      by Tower Curator Zoe sighed as she walked down the streets of Brakket. Eva insisted that nobody walk around alone. Which, honestly, was not poor advice at the moment. However, she needed time to think. Teleporting straight to Genoa's house wouldn't give her enough time. Or any time, really. Teleporting was near instant. Barring any sudden wards popping up, teleporting would be a perfectly viable escape from any dangerous situation. And she was keeping careful watch for any sign of a ward. A cold wind picked up,…
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      Settling In

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      by Tower Curator An earthquake tore through the prison. Potion vials rattled, dust shook free from the walls, one of the runes providing light failed. Eva snapped the treatise on necromancy shut with a barely restrained sigh. That's the fifth time in the last hour. She glanced over at Juliana, Shalise, and Devon, all of whom were glued to the window. "Any sign of them stopping for the night?" Eva asked. "I don't think I'll be able to sleep like this." "I think they're trying to kill each other." Juliana just shook…
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      Crystal Courier

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      by Tower Curator "To be fair, if she hadn't summoned a demon, Arachne and I wouldn't have known where to look. In fact, we had been heading in the wrong direction prior to her summoning." Both Genoa and Carlos turned away from their daughter to glare at Eva. Behind them, sitting in the living room chair like it was the hot seat in an interrogation room, Juliana looked up and gave Eva a slight smile. A smile that did nothing to offset the intensity of her parents' glares. Under other circumstances, Eva might have wilted…
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      Women’s Ward

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      by Tower Curator Zoe put on a light smile as she greeted her old teacher. "It is good to see you again, Genoa. Carlos." Juliana's father gave a light nod of his head. "I wish I could say the same." Genoa slid down her circular sunglasses to peer over the top. Zoe tried to maintain her smile. It felt strained and fake. She did not like the look she was getting. Understandable though it was. "A situation has arisen involving your daughter." "So I hear. Where is she?" "Juliana, along with her two…
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      Back into the Fire

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      by Tower Curator Eva tossed the now slightly damp towel over her shoulder, not caring in the slightest where it actually landed. She exited the showers completely in the nude. Arachne followed her out at her heels. Devon still sat, snoring in his chair. For a moment, she considered waking him. After glancing at the large bruise on his forehead, Eva decided he looked tired enough to leave alone. Besides, he managed to sleep through all the noise of the showers. Never had she felt so alive. She stopped and…
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      Cured

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      by Tower Curator The long hallway. Blood red walls with a black hardwood floor. A narrow carpet protected the hardwood from the sharp undersides of Eva's feet. There were no doors. No side passages. Nothing at all apart from a way forwards and a way backwards. It looked exactly as it had every other time. Eva took off at a run. And promptly got nowhere. It didn't matter which way she ran. Neither direction ever took her anywhere apart from where she was. Yet Eva ran. There had to be progress…
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      Melancholy

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      by Tower Curator It was surprising how normal everything seemed. Not seemed. Everything was normal. Just like after Halloween, people's lives went on. School went on. Learning went on. Everyone just ignored the empty table where her students usually sat. And there was nothing Zoe Baxter could do about it. The students who had come to class were not paying any sort of attention. Not surprising. Zoe was only going through the motions of her lesson. No personal touch, no emphasis or animation in her actions.…
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