entrancelogs | [CLOSED] Misery loves company;

Entry tags:

[CLOSED] Misery loves company;

Who: Rebekah Mikaelson & Hayley Marshall
Where: The tunnels/caves and beyond as they find their way out.
When: 10/6
Rating: PG
Summary: Two friends get a very chilly welcome to Wonderland.
The Story:

If only it were the first time Rebekah had found herself someplace dark and damp with no prior explanation. If she took a moment to give it some thought, she had spent a great deal more time tromping about in caves and crypts and other unseemly places over the last two or three years than she could recall having done in centuries, but as her head began to clear and she felt herself come to, it became obvious that this wasn't the time for deliberation. The cave itself was unfamiliar, rock -- or was it brick? -- seeming to reach down from all sides, like muddy rain frozen in time, but it was the fact that she was undeniably alone that caused her breath to catch in her throat.

She shouldn't have been alone. She'd been entrusted with something incredibly precious, given charge of her niece and told in so many words that she had to do whatever it took in order to keep Hope hidden and safe from harm. As a family, they had countless enemies, but lately there had been none so persistent as the witches, and finding herself someplace new with no baby in sight simply reeked of magic in the absolute worst way. She struggled to her feet, bracing her hand against the nearest wall for aid and resisting the urge to cringe when she felt herself step in a puddle that seemed to go all the way up to her ankle. Some months earlier, her greatest frustration might have been what damage the water would do to her shoes, but now there was something far more important at the forefront of her mind, a responsibility like none she'd ever been given before. She began to move forward, making every effort to keep panic from getting the better of her, even as her stomach began to tie itself into knots, vampire fortitude be damned.

"Hello?"

Her voice reverberated off the walls of the cavern, followed by the soft echo of her footsteps as she steadily advanced, gaining surety with every step until she was moving forward with long strides, purposeful. This was no time to be timid, and she was not a timid girl to begin with. Were it only her own safety at stake, she might not have called out, might have opted to stay quiet in order to keep from alerting any potential enemies to her presence, but things were different now-- Hope wasn't like her. Not yet, though Rebekah had confidence she would be a Mikaelson through and through once she'd grown. At the moment, she was helpless, and that meant time was of the absolute essence.

"I'm going to need an answer sooner rather than later!" Her voice echoed back all over again, louder this time, angry. "Whoever you are, you're going to be sorry once I've found you -- the sooner you reveal yourself, the easier this will be. I'm not known for my patience!"

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There a voice echoing nearby when she drifts awake, her head pounding and her mouth dry. Hayley gives a mumbled groan of protest as she wakes up on something hard and cold and distinctly rock-like, and it sinks in a moment after that this is not her bed. Not even somewhere familiar, although as she jolts upright and lets her gaze skim around her darkened surroundings, the effect of this strange dark place is not lost on her. It's not the first time she's woken up in someplace similar, although this time around there's a distinct lack of candles and witches in her immediate vicinity, but that doesn't mean they're not nearby.

It's all enough to put her instantly on edge, her own temper roaring to the forefront, because she's had it up to here with this witchy bullshit and she's not so easy a victim this time around. Not after what they'd done to her last time. Although the worry of how they'd not only gotten to her, but past Klaus and Elijah was niggling thought at the back of her consciousness, she pushed herself to her feet and brushed the dirt off her clothing, looking around for anything useful.

It's then the voice that had woken her comes echoing through the tunnels again and the sound of it, so achingly familiar, has her freezing in place, eyes widening in horror.

"Oh no. Oh no, no no no..." she mutters as she stumbles forward following the sound of that voice. She knew that voice, and if she was hearing it here.

No, they can't have. They wouldn't...

Who was she kidding? Of course they would. If her time in New Orleans had taught her anything, it was that the witches should never be underestimated. It's what has her calling back, her voice showing her growing desperation as she stumbles out of the chamber she woke in and into an adjoining passageway, hand braced against the strangely-textured wall for balance as she searches for the voice.

"Rebekah?!"

Hayley. Of all the people who shouldn't be wherever Rebekah was-- but if this whole thing was the result of something particularly witchy, which of course it must have been, she couldn't say she was surprised that they had found a way to take Hayley, too. After all, the witches had been circling the poor girl like a pack of vultures ever since she'd first arrived in New Orleans, all knocked up with nowhere to go.

It seemed that none of them would be getting the peace Rebekah felt they deserved anytime soon.

"Hayley! Don't move, I'm not far--"

From the sounds of it, Hayley was just a bit ahead of her, possibly even around the next bend. Her guess was close enough; it was around the bend and after a very sudden left turn that she found the honorary Mikaelson standing there propped against the wall as Rebekah herself had done while she'd regained her balance. She exhales, beyond put out, but annoyance was greatly overshadowed by something more immediate: that same worried anxiety that had been eating at her since she'd woken up.

"You're not hurt?"

First things first, and simply asking if Hayley was alright was just a touch too direct for her.

Hayley could care less about herself at the moment, especially when her gaze lands on the woman across from her. It's been weeks since she's seen Rebecca, ever since she'd come out to the bayou to say goodbye. She wished she could say seeing her now was met with relief but it couldn't be.

"I'm fine. Where are we? Where's...?"

She doesn't say her name, even now. Everyone was meant to believe her baby was dead. If, by some slim chance, the people responsible for whatever this is don't know otherwise, she's not about to enlighten them. Rebekah will know who she means. If there's anyone who understands Hayley's panic right now it would be her.

"Hell if I know."

Her answer to the first question is brusque, distracted-- they both know she would never take that stance concerning Hope, and yet neither of them seemed to be capable of saying her name. It was entirely possible that it was better that way; it was strange how the smallest things could cause already-existing panic to mount faster, and neither of them needed that right now.

If they were going to find their way out of here and find Hope, they needed to keep themselves held together-- and by 'they,' Rebekah mostly meant herself. It wouldn't do for Hayley to see her in near-hysterics, and panic wasn't going to help her solve the problem. Anger, however, would. It was a wonderful motivator.

"We need to keep moving. We can't afford to waste a minute here." She's prepared to start walking again, but hesitates, just long enough to make sure Hayley is steady on her feet. "This whole thing smells like witchcraft to me."

Hayley pushes herself to her feet, chin lifting and jaw clenching in stubborn determination at that because like hell is she going to just wait around while witches wreak havoc with her life again. Her eyes give the faintest gleam of amber for a moment as she nods and moves towards Rebekah.

"Agreed. They never seem to learn, do they?" She was so tired of dealing with witchy shit. "I suppose the next question is, which of us is more likely to find our way out of here?" she pauses, glancing around in either direction. "Everything's quiet, but maybe..."

A faint whiff of a scent, something other than dark damp stone and the musty disuse of undisturbed air. Hayley frowns, sifting through what her senses are telling her.

"I think we need to go that way."

It's a good enough lead; werewolves are better with scent than vampires aside from where blood is involved, and Rebekah is willing to trust Hayley's instincts as far as an escape plan is concerned. The trouble is knowing whether or not they should advance at all -- if Hope is here, leaving her behind isn't an option.

"Let's move." She heads in the indicated direction, trusting Hayley to keep up. "If the path splits up ahead, then so will we. Cover more ground that way, so long as we can find our way back."

Between Hayley's tracking and her own excellent hearing, she's not terribly worried about losing one another.

"Shame they didn't even have the decency to deposit us someplace dry."

The complaint is so familiar that it's almost comforting in its own way and Hayley drags in a deep breath, trying to reign in her own control, the panic knotting in her stomach, the rage. It's always present these days, it seems. Some days she's not sure she'll ever be able to control it again. But she needs to now. Needs to find out what happened to her baby, and to Rebekah, and to her - why they are here and who brought them.

But for the moment, the complain at least gives her something to focus in on, something old and familiar and here and she latches onto it like a lifeline as she strides after Rebekah, keeping up with ease.

"At least there's no mosquitoes?" she drawls, sarcasm thick in her voice, because she knows just how fond Rebekah is of the bayou that Hayley sometimes calls home. "At this point maybe they're just trying to add insult to injury."

The presence of old and petty complaints is oddly comforting, enough that if the situation were even the slightest bit different, Rebekah might have let a smile pull at the corner of her mouth. As it stands, she remains facing forward, moving with purpose, but she rubs at her left forearm idly, as if the very mention is enough to make her skin crawl all over again.

"You know, I'd always assumed they would prefer human flesh to mine. It still smarts a bit, finding I had been misinformed." She'd come out of that bayou with more bites than either Hayley or Sophie combined. Miserable place.

"They'll sorely regret doing so, if that's the case. I've little patience for games, particularly where my family is involved."

Hayley now counted among their number. She had for a long while.

Hayley still manages to give a wry chuckle at that, the faintest hint of humor slipping through for the briefest of moments, because it's something to do at the very least and her sarcasm tends to come out even more when she's upset about something. Healthy coping mechanisms for the win.

"Maybe you just tasted better."

She flicks a glance sideways at Rebekah's other statement, a quick flash, there and gone again, because it will never fail to give her pause when one of them so casually refers to her as family. They've all been doing it for months now, but it's something she will never take for granted. It's not always something she enjoys being, part of their strange broken family. But having spent so many years searching for one, it's not an inclusion she ever takes lightly.

It helps. Not a lot, because they're both still in this mess. But it does soothe some of the rage gnawing at her to know she's not doing this alone.

"Yeah," is all she drawls however, her voice dry and giving away none of her thoughts. "I remember."

Whether Hayley likes it or not, she became an honorary Mikaelson the moment Elijah brought her into their home, though it had taken the rest of them a short while to warm up to the idea. Rebekah's own hesitance had been brief; she'd made it her business to uphold Elijah's promise to protect the girl and they'd become fast friends from there, after a handful of colorful comments that included Hayley being mistaken for the help.

Past was past. Hayley had made herself a permanent fixture in their lives, regardless of whether she'd meant to.

"There are a number of situations in which having a Mikaelson's temper could be considered a boon," Rebekah tells her matter-of-factly, glancing back in her direction and offering a small, wry but somehow genuine smile as they come to a crossroads in the tunnel. "This is undoubtedly one of them. The path splits ahead -- can you catch a whiff of fresh air anywhere?"

That would imply an exit was near, at least.

She comes to a stop beside Rebekah, closing her eyes so she could focus, attuning her senses as best she could. It was trickier now, getting her focus where she needed it. She's still learning what her new senses are capable of and hasn't had a lot of time to practice yet.

Still, a moment later she turns to the left. "I think we need to go this way." She doesn't sound entirely certain, doubting her own abilities, but she'd caught a whiff of something.

Rebekah turns in that direction without question, trusting Hayley's senses despite the fact that recent changes have made them less than reliable. That bit of information, of course, is something that Klaus had neglected to mention during their last meeting. Hope had been the focus then, her safety and ensuring that she and Rebekah got out of New Orleans undetected.

She'd thought she had succeeded in that, but the current situation said otherwise.

"We'll find her," was the only response Hayley received as they continued forward, each stride long and sure-footed as Rebekah carried herself with purpose, still managing to keep panic from rising to the surface. She trusted herself to catch Hope's scent if they were closed enough; she was no werewolf, but there was no denying a vampire's link to blood of any kind.

Though she says nothing more for the moment, she reaches out and takes Hayley's hand in her own without hesitation, squeezing it. We'll find her.

Hayley looks surprised at the unexpected contact, her gaze dropping to where Rebekah's hand is curled around hers, a stutter in her movements, because she's spent months with this family and her inclusion in it will never not give her pause, even over something that should be as simple as this. But it's something she doesn't take for granted - can't, not when it means so much.

And even though the reassurance is unspoken, it's communicated all the same and Hayley gives her a faint hint of a smile, squeezing Rebekah's hand in return as she starts off down the tunnel, a stubborn lift to her chin.

She could do this.

She smiles in reply, as faint as Hayley's but just as genuine. There weren't many that the Mikaelsons took in and made family over the years, but Hayley was among their number, and Rebekah was firmly of the opinion that she was also among the best. Though her feelings for Marcel were complicated, her thoughts on Hayley were far less so. Hope bound Hayley to them, but she was fairly certain that none of them would have it any other way, all for varying reasons.

For Rebekah, it came down to the simple fact that after so many centuries of having no one but her brothers to look to as constants, she had a friend.

They continue onwards, the faintest stirring of air growing just the tiniest bit stronger, their surroundings noticeably less damp as they neared the exit. She could see now that the tunnel opened up into the outdoors; there was a fountain not far beyond the exit, as well as a garden, but it didn't look like any particular location that she'd ever come across before -- she didn't expect it to, but there was still something distinctly odd.

"Do you know this place at all? Any familiar scents?"

Hayley takes a moment to test the air around her, trying to make sense of all the scents and sights overwhelming her senses. There were so many, and all of them unfamiliar.

Wherever they were, it was a long way from New Orleans, that's for sure.

"No, she answers after a moment, turning around to study her new surroundings with a fierce frown, puzzled and unnerved. "No, nothing familiar. Everything is.... it's weird. There's things I've never smelled before. And not all of them are..." human? Does she want to risk that guess with the strange scents she's picking up. A hint of ozone here, a flash of sulfur that has her wrinkling her nose. Dog, yes, even wolf, although something subtly changed about it so not even that is wholly familiar to her.

"There's too much to make sense of, but no. I'm not getting anything familiar from it. Not from here, anyway."

She's still frowning as she takes in the house and their surroundings before glancing back to Rebekah with a worried - and apologetic - look. "Sorry. Should we split up?" She's not sure that's a good idea, but she's not sure what other options they have right now.

There are too many scents for Rebekah to make much sense of, either -- her own senses aren't as heightened as either Hayley's or her brother's might be, but there's never any telling whether their being more sensitive actually helps or hurts when there are so many to try and discern from one another.

She sighs, nodding once. "Yes, let's. We'll see what we can find, see if we can figure out where this is. I won't go far. Finding our way back to one another should be easy enough."

They were both natural hunters, after all. She prepares to veer off to their left, but pauses before looking back to Hayley over her shoulder, frowning. "Be careful?"

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[CLOSED] Misery loves company;

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