Two Souls, One Body

Log Info

Title: Two Souls, One Body
Emitter: Liv
Characters: Stephanie and Steven, Amber, Reg, Sandra
NPCs: Evelyn Prieto, Hunter, Singe, Kerry
Place: Prieto Residence, New York City
Time: 6/10/2010, mid-day
Summary: Evelyn Prieto takes an arcane interest in Stephanie (and Steven), but they aren't standing still for investigation.

Surrounded by a high stone wall, the Prieto residence is an island to itself. Willows shroud much of the view, while a hedge-maze dominates the west side. Amongst the white marble and the massive windows - some span the length of a room, others multiple stories - the architecture evokes an old-world castle through Hollywood's eyes: balconies, turrets and baroque arches. Inside, that old-world style translates into furniture and filigree, pale, bright and ornate. Everything is hard and polished, every surface showing a faint reflection. And everywhere, there is glasswork, from the immense art-sculpture chandelier to tiny paperweight orbs.

Yesterday, a (more or less) pleasant visit to New York City and the home of Evelyn Prieto turned into a hostage situation with a lot of hotheaded teenagers. Today, that situation is still in stand-off.
The fact that the mansion is suspended in a half-realm of shadow means that the light is pale, sounds are muffled, and there's no sign of animal life on the grounds. If one checks on the servants, they're wrapped in an unnatural sleep, far too deep to be awakened. Go as far as the bounding wall and the outer world is still visible, but painfully, unbearably bright and vivid … too much so to look at for more than a second.
The two guests-turned-guards have been visible, but keeping their distance for now. There's been no trace of Evelyn.

Steph and Steven are NOT happy, not one little smidge of an iota of a fraction of an erg happy. No, they're less happy than that! The last time they were kidnapped it cost them their mother, you know, the parent that actually understood them? ~GrrRRrrrRRrRrrrrr.~ Steven is growling in Stephanie's and his head. ~~Steven…enough. I can't think.~~ After a long silence, he sends a mental nod. ~Sorry, sister-mine, just pissed.~ She nods, hands wrapped about herself as she wanders the prison. ~~I think I'm going to try and probe one of the servants…back me up, okay?~~ ~!~ And then. ~Of course.~ Moving then with sudden decision, Stephanie approaches a servant. "I'd like some tea, please." She asks even as she marshalls her power, and then tries to read his mind.

The servant in question is a young woman named Alice who has been working for Evelyn Prieto for about ten months - long enough to be familiar with the routine and the lady of the house. Evelyn's standards are strict, but she's fair when the staff live up to them. She's very much the old-school style of employer where servants are glorified furniture … but the disturbing part? Alice adores Ms. Prieto, fawns on every little scrap of attention she does get from her. She overheard not one but several fits of rage and glass-throwing during the period surrounding Liv's failed assassination attempt, arrest and conviction.
And … over the past ten months, though she doesn't realize it, Alice has been put to sleep like this twice before. The mansion has shifted into shadow other times, but the girl didn't really notice.
The routine doesn't leave many places in the house itself to look. The only room that Alice hasn't been in is Evelyn's workshop off the cellar. The only other possible oddity of note is there are a few pieces of glasswork in the house that Evelyn doesn't let the servants clean. She's bitten off a few heads - metaphorically speaking - when they've even touched them.

Once the sleeping servant's mind is perused, Steph withdraws, and ponders while the girl fetches her tea. ~Let me out, sis…I have an idea.~ Stephanie peers (Mentally) at her brother, and then shakes her head. ~~No no, I think I know what you have in mind…and I don't know if that would be good at this point.~~ And then a slow smile, both hers and Stephen's forms. ~!~ ~~!~~ Together they think. ~~PERFECT.~~ Stephanie will take her tea once Alice drops it off, murmuring. "Couldn't be any further down the rabbit hole, could we." She then hangs out where she can see one of the precious glassworks. And she waits, apparently in a sullen funk, brooding…you know, being a teen. When next a servant comes to clean the area where the item is, she uses her mental illusion ability so that OOPS the cleaning will be sure so smack it off the shelf or stand it sits on, hopefully with catastrophic effect. Nice? Not one bit. Hopefully whatever is victimized will be priceless, and irreplacable.

The sleepwalking servant never blinks as she knocks the twisted blue-and-green globe off its stand by the library door, though Stephanie might feel a flash of raw terror if she's still in contact with the woman. Even if not consciously aware of what is going on, the servant may weave that particular incident into her dreams. Oddly enough, unless prodded, the servant makes no attempt to clean it up.
And it would seem Stephanie does get away with it, but before she can set up to do it again, two sets of footsteps ring down the corridor towards her. One set belongs to Hunter, who does cut an impressive figure: tall, muscular, dark-haired with those harshly mismatched eyes.
Behind him, however, is a figure Stephanie has not seen before, a short, slight creature with long dark hair surrounded by a nimbus of flame.
"Stephanie Moore," Hunter calls, his voice flat. It's more some kind of demand than a question or a greeting.

~We should morph, so we could legitimately tell Huntard to piss off.~ Steven thinks to his sister. And she finds it oh so very very tempting. Stephanie actually considers it, a faint ripple flowing over the Blaschko's lines on their shared body, but then. ~~No. That would reveal we CAN do that, keeping whatever secrets we can is crucial.~~ Grudgingly, Steven sighs but sends acceptance. Turning as her name is called, Stephanie looks to Hunter and the flame critter. "Yes?" Her tone is flat, uninterested in being cordial, and offers nothing. She's clearly doing Hunter a favor by answering at all! Which probably is familiar to the guy if Steph judges things here right. Might be interesting to see his reaction, see how close she got it.

Hunter flashes a ghoul's smile, a note of cold amusement in the expression. "Enjoying yourself?" he inquires. By his reaction, it's a good guess that his interactions with the lady of the house follow a different pattern. "Come with us. Evelyn wants to speak with you." There's just enough grating in his voice to offer a warning as to the risks of turning down the invitation.

Unlike the others Stephanie knows there is zero chance of a ransom for her, not that dad wouldn't pay — he simply CAN'T pay, not wealthy at all. The tone, and the fact she clearly misread things have her a little shaken. So, to steady herself she illusions another hopefully irreplacable and precious priceless glass thingy so that it too will hopefully be destroyed, and then rises, straightening her suit jacket, and then nods. "Oh, very much. The low light levels are very soothing, in fact there's so many dim things about that it boggles the mind." She motions to him to lead the way, not quite peremptorily, but as close as the girl can manage. Hey! She's SIXTEEN. This sort of thing isn't exactly old hat, you know? Hunter is a big scary guy, and the critter…well, hell, she doesn't know what it is. She /does/ take a chance en route though, and sees if she can scan the critter's mind.

Hunter narrows his eyes slightly, but doesn't respond to the jab. He turns on his heel and leads the way without another word.
The flame figure - as she turns, visible through the fiery haze as a dark-haired girl of unknown age - falls into step behind them. Mental contact provides her handle - Singe - and her purpose here … money, pure and simple. Apparently, she's a mercenary with a few years under her belt. There's also a strong, snapping impression of a gymnasts' background. Her head snakes about to glare at Stephanie. "Stay out of my head," she says, voice crackling.
Hunter pauses, glancing back at Stephanie again. "I suggest you don't give me a reason to hurt you," he says.

"Glad to, Singe, I can't afford your rates." Stephanie answers, and just to be a bitch she extends the illusion effect so that the Gymnast might stumble when the floor turns out to be two inches higher than it seems. All innocence and light she looks to Hunter. "Why would you bother? I don't have anything, I'm not wealthy or from a wealthy family. I'm just a kid. Yeah, big strong guy, beating up on a teenage girl, really macho. Hurting me nets you nothing, unless you're a psycho." She DOES stop probing Singe, however. She's really tempted to probe Hunter, but resists, for now. Let them think she's cowed. Steven, meanwhile, is seething…which isn't exactly helping Steph's mood.

Singe's foot catches and she does roll forward, but catches herself before she outright stumbles. "I do charity cases, too," she says.
"You're just a kid," Hunter snorts. "You expect me to believe that?" He continues walking, and that seems to be the end of it until he casts over his shoulder, "I died twenty-five years ago. Dead men find their entertainment where they can."
Hunter leads Stephanie down into the cellar and … through that barred workshop door. It turns out to be a glasscrafter's workshop, forge, bellows and all - though with only minimal evidence of work in progress. One of the room's most notable features is a floor-length mirror on one wall. One ordinary chair has been dragged into the room.
Evelyn stands, dressed as impeccably as before. She smiles as the two enter with Stephanie, a slow, spreading smile. "Please. Sit."

"They say once you pro bono, you never go back." Steph replies without missing a beat, though she can't help but snigger at the misstep…she then settles down and focuses on the next glass thing, so that her illusion will hold. A blink at the died comment. "So are you still dead, or did you somehow get better? And how did that dying thing work out for you?" A slight shiver. "I'd have to say that based on where you are…probably not so good." And then they enter the workshop and you know—some instinct makes her nervous about that mirror, and the glasscraft, and then balks a moment when asked to sit. "No thanks, been sitting all day, I'll just stand over here." She stands, unless forced, so that the mirror can't get her reflection too well. She's not even sure why it bugs her but it does, and so she balks.

"Still dead," Hunter replies in a calm voice. "My source died in a plane crash." He steps into the room and takes up a position a few paces away from Stephanie. His shoulders stiffen, and he sounds irritated as he adds, "Evelyn has been nothing but good to me."
"Oh, I'm sure that's not completely true," Evelyn says, one eyebrow lifting in amusement. (Her particular expression of that gesture is so like Liv it's perhaps weird not to see a piercing in the brow.) "As you will, but you may wish you'd gotten off your feet," she continues, advancing upon Stephanie and circling her. "You intrigue me. Do you know why?"
Without a word, Singe moves into the other corner. If Stephanie glances towards the mirror, she will notice that the reflection isn't quite right, that it shows a slightly different layout of the room. It also ripples a bit, as if it were something other than glass.

"Oh, I'm sure." ~Geez, is everyone here brainwashed into loving this bint?~ Steven asks sotto-mente. ~~Looks like, except Singe is here for the money. Prieto probably hasn't had a chance to sink her hooks in yet.~~ She then nods as Evelyn confirms what she was just thinking, and hey, Alice recalled some very not nice Evey moments, so there you go. Confirmation from multiple sources! As the wicked bitch of this nest circles her, Steph wraps her arms about herself and tries not to look at the mirror too closely, she does edge a little away from it though, darned certain that she doesn't want her reflection anywhere near the thing. "Mmm…because we're all mad here?" Through the Looking Glass, Alice…welcome to Wonderland, only not.

Hunter leans back against the wall, his posture watchful.
"That might be true," Evelyn allows with a slight smile, "but not that, no. No, observing you …" She's still circling, inspecting the girl from every angle. "One body, two souls - two shadows. Quite unique. You require extensive study." Unless Stephanie has time to duck, there's a gentle brush of her shoulder with fine lacquered nails. "No one's going to pay ransom for you, are they?"
From somewhere above, there is a muffled crash. Evelyn … doesn't even react, not turning her eyes from Stephanie.

A shuddering shift away from those nails, and then Stephanie GLARES at Evelyn Prieto, lines shimmering into blue radiance all over her body. An aside to Hunter. "Okay, maybe not 'just' a kid." She admits as her will surges across the space between her and Evelyn Prieto, will against will locking them both immobile. It is probably as surprising to the twins as it is to Dame Prieto. "No. Nobody will. As I told your dead minion over there…my father is not rich or inflential. He's an EMT, the best he could do is get you a discount on the Prosac and Valium cocktail you so clearly need." For the moment the girl is just holding Evelyn's mind in her mental grasp, and since she already knows about Steven, he speaks up and Evelyn can hear him across the forced link. ~Sister-mine, I think maybe you should invest in mind bleach — I feel filthy.~

Evelyn gasps in surprise, her head jerking back. Grey eyes flash down, and a tendril of thought slides into the link, ~No matter. You're not going anywhere.~
Hunter lunges forward, a square blow to Stephanie's back … or as it turns out, through Stephanie's back, phasing out and then in *inside* her. He wrenches free, remarkably without doing any damage. "Singe," he snaps. "Helpless kid, my …"
Singe snorts, her hand sweeping up. A gout of fire flares out to strike Stephanie on the other side, leaving painful burns and stunning the young woman.
Evelyn backs away as the grip on her mind is severs, her bearing calm. "Stand down," she says. "Or this won't be pretty." With those words, waves of despair wash over Stephanie, twisting around her. She resists, more than ably, but the intensity of it is numbing.

Beaten down, Stephanie cries out as she's phase attacked — but more from fright than actual pain, the fire however, that gets a genuine cry of anguish from the girl and drives her to one knee, her head bowed. Her head bows even more under that assault of despair from Dame Prieto — but that was a tactical error, she attacked the twins in their area of greatest strength. The will to forge on, to survive, to protect each other is beyond bone deep, it is probably even beyond the atomic level it is so ingrained in them. Two minds as one speak, a mental shout of absolute negation. ~~~NO!~~~ And then driven to the brink, they glow as bright as a magnesium flare, lambent cobalt energy writhing along their Blaschko's lines as Stephanie's form blurs, and Steven's sharpens into place with a spiritual and mental *Click*. "No." He says quietly, and then looks up as a pulse of raw telekinetic force rips out of him and savages the room. Glass explodes into a spray of deadly shrapnel, though none of the villains are harmed…the lab is trashed save for the bellows, the freaky not-mirror. And then he stands, blue energy sheathing his form, the build slightly different and a soul tuft on the end of his chin telling the tale of what just happened. Chin thrust out belligerently he looks to Evelyn. "Don't make me hurt you." ~No, go on, hurt her! Really, it's okay, bro.~ Stephanie sends.
It is ironic that the acrobatic Singe is sent reeling to the ground, unhurt, but felled all the same.

"Fascinating," Evelyn murmurs, watching the change and the destruction it wreaks with an intense gaze. She sucks in a breath of outrage at the sight of the destruction, but that hiss is the only break in her calm. The shadows cast by the bellows deepen, allowing her to sink back into their embrace. Apparently, one can become a shadow while already in a shadowy realm. "Oh, come now. Enough with the bravado. Or do you enjoy this?"
"Are you trying to hurt anyone, or just throwing a tantrum?" Hunter wonders. He grabs for her again, this time slamming into her body - literally - and coming away with blood. "Kid's tough, Evs."
Singe kips to her feet. Not joining in the speeches, but definitely in the fight, her well-aimed gouts of flame again leave the teen reeling.

"Is…ow, is that all you guys got? Sheesh, sis was right Singe probably gave up on acrobatics because she's even more fail as a villain. Hunter, hell, he's not even really alive, and you? You're like…what…Cruella DeVille bred to Maleficent might be." Steven then notes the bellows and the mirror. His mind reaches out towards the not mirror and learns it isn't truly physical, nothing there to grab…so he grabs the bellows with a surge of cobalt energy from his brow, jerking his head to the side as he hurls it at Singe — bashing it and her into the wall, and setting it on fire — and then he gestures towards Hunter and sends the burning and bent thing at him, managing to burn the phase-attacker, and utterly ruining the bellows. "Tantrum? Nah, at this point I'm just doing as much damage as I can before you all beat me down with sheer numbers." The implication — they NEED the numbers to deal with him! Grar!
Singe? Not even scratched.

"Singe and I could leave," Evelyn says in a droll voice, "but Hunter has never been known for his impulse control in conflict situations - and make no mistake, I want you whole. Even after this." A quick jerk of her head to encompass the destruction.
"Damnit, Evelyn, it's been almost two years, let it go." Yet Hunter sounds more amused than truly annoyed.
Evelyn spreads her hands, stepping forward. "I didn't want to have to do this," she says. "One doesn't like to damage the goods. However …" The shadows around Steven start to shift, reaching up for him.
While that has the young man distracted, Hunter lunges in again. It's a low blow, straight for - into - through organs, fingers vising and crushing bone, snapping a spinal disc.
The pain is enough to send Steven over the edge. As he blacks out, Evelyn's voice is the last thing he hears … not speaking, but chanting …
When Stephanie / Steven revives, everything feels very … strange.
It's not just the pain, which is nauseatingly intense - one gets the feeling Hunter twisted around in there more than strictly necessary. Stephanie is restrained on a bed and …
Steven is tied to a chair. Some force cleaved the two apart while they were unconscious, which means the bizarre sensation of looking each other … and the effects of the injuries are painfully laid out on both faces.
Evelyn stands behind the seated twin, a long-bladed knife in her hand and currently pressed casually against the back of his neck. "You decide to get cute again, this goes in. Given the intricacies of separating you two, I'm really not sure of the exact implications of that." Her voice is low, cool, clinically curious - and eminently smug. The knife slides about, stroking down Steven's cheek and leaving a slow line of blood. "How does that feel?"

Elsewhere on this Thursday afternoon, the same eerie stillness grips the manor. There was a sudden explosion of thumping and crashing from the direction of the basement a short while ago, but by the time people tried to track it, it had subsided with no apparent source.
The servants, for the record, are locked in a deep sleep, unwakeable, but going about their routines as (almost) normal.

Amber is passing through walls in the house. She doesn't really care how much damage she's done. She's returning the favor of being a bad captive houseguest to a rude hostess warden. As she passes through and hears the explosion she looks around and shouts, "HEY! Was that one of you, cause it wasn't me!" She looks around, hunting around, "Anyone of you know how to get in the basement? HELLOOOOOO?" She shouts again, "Hey these maids and butlers suck! Where'd that come from?"

At the sounds coming from a nebulous place on a floor below, Reg seeks out the other. When he finds them, he inclines is head politely. "Sounds like something's on, we should take a look." For the record, he marked where he was searching last. A nod at Amber, "Might be the basement, and I think so. Might just be down below a ways, let's look." A glance to Sandra, and he says, "Come on."

~~Don't provoke them, Steven…we'll figure it out, okay?~~ Stephanie's mind voice is projecting as much calm as she can, she's always been the strong one. A life time of habit even makes the attempt fairly successful. Stephen looks to Ms Prieto. "There's differing degrees of cute — do you mean cute like 'a puppy licking your face', or cute like a young girl wearing her mommy's wedding gown and oversized heels? Perhaps you mean cute like a Sharpei — so ugly that it edges over into cute…" And then Stephanie nods. "…how about cute like baby seal, or cute like a couple of kids shyly holding hands on their first date?" Yes, she had to get into the act. It was either that, or cry…and she won't give them the satisfaction. ~Scared, sis.~ Stephen sends softly. ~~Me too , brother-mine, but we'll figure it out, I promise.~~ Her firm response. Pain? They can deal with pain. For a while anyway.

Sandra steps into the gathering just as Reg arrives. The woman's brow arches upwards first at one of the holes Amber has left, then towards Reg. She sighs deeply, offering a nod. "It seems … my apology will have to wait," she murmurs to the young man, before tapping a finger on one of her thighs. "I /REALLY/ need to get some … things brought from home," she offers lifting a hand and stretching the jacket she wears, before taking it off. "I am not prepared as I should be." Now Sandra is murmuring aloud to herself, before she demurely bows her head to Reg and lets the 'Graecia' take the lead.

The basement area of the house is mostly dark. Evelyn's workshop is locked up again, though the door does look somewhat mangled … but there is enough silence coming from that direction to discount anything sinister going on behind that door (now). Three cross halls and a number of small utility rooms, and Kerry stands outside one of them, taking notes on a palmtop. The slight blonde woman is dressed in black-and-scarlet, too tight, too skimpy, matched with gold studs and knee-high boots. The only saving grace to the look is the fact that she does look damn good in it.
Evelyn watches Stephanie with an impassive gaze, lip quirking disdainfully at the speech. "Don't ever go into stand-up comedy," she advises in a dry voice. Her hand twists, the blade cutting into Steven's cheek. It's a slow turn, almost delicate, almost graceful, executed to draw as much as pain as possible out of that relatively small cut.

Amber frowns a little, but nods and follows Reg's lead. Her mood has been rather somber since getting stuck in the house. But this is the first time something bad has happened since being trapped in here. She moves with them to the basement. As they head into the dark and look around down there, she spies the paths and says, "Which way? Or do I tear the place up? Ohpleaseohpleaseohplease…" she says quickly with a small amount of sarcastic hope.

"I'm not—" Reg frowns as he spots the woman guarding the door. He says to the others, "Good place as any to start. Haven't seen Stephanie, so she's probably down here somewhere…" He approaches the door, and says, "We need to get in," He says. He cants his head to the side, as if listening, and frowns, saying to the others, "I hear Stephanie. Hard to make out what she's saying, though." He points a finger at the woman. "We definitely need to be let in. Out of our way. Or we'll make you move." It happens suddenly. No dramatics, this time. Pen becomes spear, and armor appears. And the spear point is held near the woman's neck. Reg's voice is hard. "Now."

Stephanie winces, and Steven bites his lip — managing for the moment not to scream, though there's no doubt that he's in pain. ~~Steven…I..I'm sorry, don't resist.~~ And that's all Stephanie says before he looks to Prieto. "I apologize, I was wrong to call you the unholy offspring of Cruella DeVille and Maleficent. You're more like Izma." And then her gaze shifts to Stephen, and a her Blaschko's lines flare, cobalt as she sends a blast of mental force into her brother's mind, and he, trusting her word doesn't resist. Indeed, he's smiling when it hits, and his lights go out. Still restrained, and glaring, Stephanie spits — though not on anyone, but close, and the act is a vulgar enough one that it will probably have more impact. "So…you can hurt us, guess what — we already knew that, you ignoramus. So your rich and powerful and have lackeys to lick your boots and do your dirty work. Guess what, we knew that too. So…why don't you just get to the point of the exercise or go away!"

Blue eyes fixate on Kerry, or rather, beyond Kerry, as if peering through the door into the room beyond. "It would be … wise to leave," she adds beyond Reg's rather … effective demonstration of power and intimidation. Not that Sandra would let Reg know even she was affected by his display. Leaning foward, Sandra puts a hand on Amber's shoulder and murmurs softly.
"I have an idea. Reg," she murmurs, watching Kerry, "There is enough room for you to teleport in ten feet directly beyond the door, and five feet to the right. Amber, as Reg moves himself, you bust down the door. If anyone is in the room beyond, we will catch them by surprise as we save our friend."

Kerry snaps upright, twirling the palmtop in her head. It disappears into her outfit … don't ask where. How is there even room for the thing with an unsightly budge? "Big spear," she says. "What are you compensating for?" She glances amongst the three, back stiffening. Warning taken and odds tabulated, it would seem. "Hey, I'm not an idiot." She's speaking slowly as she starts to back away, the tone and movement one would use around a large predator … then she slams her knuckles on the door. "Evelyn, company!" she hollers. And keeps moving back, at considerable speed.
Evelyn pauses, her hand twitching in surprise. "You know, if I had time, I'd do something to correct your pathetic sense of oration," she says. "However …" She twists her head to look at Steven, eyes narrowing further. "Interesting."

Amber hmms and watches. When the intimidation is laid down and then Kerry knocks and backs away, she says, "Sandra, I like the way you think…" Raising a fist she says, "Knock knock." She pounds on the door hard and knocks it right off the hinges. "Excuse me, I'm raising money for my scout troupe. I was hoping we could take it out of your hide," she calls into the room.

"Won't work. I can't teleport here. Not sure why," he says. Reg shrugs, "Probably because they have a ward down. It makes sense, otherwise I'd have gotten us out of here by now, it wouldn't've been hard." With this, he watches Amber knock it off the hinges, and simply steps into the room beside her.

Stefanie sees the others arrive, and then she grimaces. She can't release the KO on her brother, so she uses a different part of her brain. Each of the heroes that enters will have several mirror images of them appear…constantly shifting about, and blurring any concept of where they are. Sure, it will probably get her smacked, but at least it is SOMETHING.

"A shame, but you are right, it makes sense," offers Sandra to Reg as she lets the other two walk into the room. She stands just outside of it, glancing after Kerry, before turning to look at Evelyn with an upraised eyebrow. "Evelyn, Evelyn, Evelyn," she offers with a hint of disappointment. "Stooping to a toddler's level by throwing a temper-tantrum?" Sandra clicks her tongue and shakes her head. "Whatever happened to discussions like mature women? I've been waiting," she notes.

Evelyn quirks a brow at Amber's entering line, but remains standing behind the unconscious Steven. "Oh, I did try to have a reasonable discussion with the child, but sometimes …" She lifts a shoulder in a shrug, exhaling a theatric sigh. "You truly still want to talk?" Her tone is faintly mocking. "After seeing your colleague like this?
“But I'm afraid I can't stay to chat …" The blade flips around suddenly, spearing down into the unconscious Steven's shoulder and sending a jerk of agony flashing through both. In almost the same motion, she diffuses into shadow and drops, sliding into the ground and out of sight.

Sandra's age shines through as Evelyn melts into the ground - the Atlantean young woman rolls her eyes with a teenaged groan. "She didn't even wait for an answer. How rude," is noted. Blue eyes look towards Stephanie and Steven, and she frowns. "When did he get here? And uh … I am horrible at field medicine, but I can carry someone to a room."

Amber sneers a bit as she does that and says, "Dangit!" She looks over at the duo and points at them. "Reg, can you take care of them? I'm gonna go see if I can have a chat with that lovely guard." She looks back out into the hallway, slamming a fist into the wall with a rumble. "By the time we get back, the only thing you're gonna own around here is pile of rocks and two broken guards!" She shouts back out to the hallway.

"Shit," Reg says. His armor disappears, and he pulls off his shirt. Revealing a normal, if bony chest. No swooning, ladies, sorry. He rips the shirt into strips, and begins to apply it to the last wound, examining Steven and otherwise doing proper medical procedures. He calls, "Someone help me with him, if we can get him someplace I can have room, I can probably fix things…"

"I…NO!" Stephanie lunges against the restraints, wishing she had Steven's telekinetic ability — alas, wishes aren't being granted this eve. Well, other than Prieto going away, so one of two isn't /too/ bad. Feeling that dagger blade, feeling her brother's life slipping away, she does the only thing she can think of — she keeps him unconscious, willing it to hold for as long as possible, even as the darkness rises to claim her as well. "Help…him…" She says as she slumps in her restraints.

Amber sighs and turns back into to the room, "Gone." She looks at the duo of injured and says, "I know this isn't supposed to look like this, right?" she says gesturing to the twins. "Why don't we get them upstairs?"

"Come over here, if you can?" Reg says to Amber. "Carry them carefully? We need to get them to an open space, so I can help them…it'll be difficult, but I think I can do it."

Amber nods and says, "Yeah, it's no problem." She steps into the room and moves around to break the bonds keeping Stephen in the chair. She moves past a desk with a loose drawer. Seems like it should be empty, but there's a yellow looking notepad in the drawer. She stops and opens it up a moment, peering at the writing on it. "What's this now?" she says out loud.

"Hmm?" Reg says. "Don't know. Let's take that with us and look at it, after we get them upstairs," He observes.

Amber nods and folds it, stuffing it in the back of her jeans as she tears apart the bonds and lifts Stephen up over one shoulder, then to Stephanie's she does the same. "You know, if I didn't see them both together like this I would've sworn they were both the same person." She looks at Reg, and says, "I think I'm gonna have to really hurt this woman."

The handwriting is miniscule, filling about three pages, all dated within the last two days. The top page contains a few coldly accurate notes on Stephanie's condition and something about the nature of split souls. There's a scrawl in the corner about using "their imprint" for further experiments.
And back on the first page, the names of the five guests followed by what look like arcane formulae and a tick next to "storage in back lab."

"I agree. And I don't say that often about women," Reg says quietly, his voice hard as an anvil. Once they get them upstairs, he looks at Amber. "I can help them, but it's going to leave me in rather bad shape. Not as bad as them, though. I should recover in hours instead of weeks. You'll have to look over me, okay?"

Amber nods to Reg and says, "I'll keep you safe, Liv and Sandra will too." She frowns. "I just hope Liv won't get mad when we break her mom." With that, she makes her way through the basement and back upstairs. Hopefully without incident.

Once they get upstairs, Reg reads the notes that Amber found, and he frowns at her, "Y'see this? It looks like she is going to /copy us/. Uh. We have to stop that. Escaping won't be enough. I'm not going to have a duplicate of me walking around. If that's even possible." He's not sure it is in his case, but he could be wrong!

Amber frowns and thinks a moment. "That's what Liv was made for…she told me about it. She's not the only one, they make copies based on the shadows…we're all powered, if she did that, she might be able to use our powers." She looks at Reg and notes, "'Back lab'," pointing to the notepad. "When you get better, we go find this. And destroy it."

"Definitely," Reg says. And then he begins to chant. It takes him about an hour to do the ritual, give or take. And when he's done…well. Stephanie and Steven are fine. Merged or not. And he…well, Reg is unconscious.

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