View source for Log:Who Let the Dogs Out?

{{ Log
| cast = [[Olivia Utridge]], [[Saulot]] as ST
| summary = After thirty-four days Olivia found something akin to companionship only to have it torn from it after a night of betrayal. Now, she wants revenge. Part of [[PLot:Olivia's Crucible|Olivia's Crucible]].
| gamedate = 2018.06.28
| gamedatename = 
| subtitle = I'm not going to die here.
| location = Arcadia
| categories = Changeling
| log = Time is difficult to grasp in this place. The concept a forgotten memory from her life before. Olivia's past doesn't matter. That woman may as well have died. The same for past connections. The only thing that matters is survival. She's had to fight, to kill, just to make it to the next day. The names of those she's faced are forgotten if she's ever heard them. Pleas for mercy were ignored or seen for the traps that they were. Fourteen. Fourteen lives sacrificed in her name that ensure her survival in The Borrower's name.

The first was the hardest, but it became easier as time went by. Then it sunk in. It all made sense. Survive or die. With each kill her want to live overtakes her want to be who she was. That indignant rage snuffed out in the cold truths of arcadia. It wasn't personal. At least until she met him.

HIM. He was of a similar make as her, burning oh so bright as a beacon of hope that she wasn't alone out here. Then, in the dark of night he attacked her. Left her for dead with her throat slit and a dagger burried in her gut. But he didn't finish the job. 

After over a dozen kills to her name this one had escaped. Not just that, but he'd made a fool of her. Following him was easy enough. He left a blazing trail wherever he went, and after she recovered she was on the trail. From the forest for God knows how long until the land of the deep dark woods is no more.

She finds herself in a frozen wasteland. He didn't just have that fiery trail, but she could easily pick it up. It was all too familiar. The scent of her blood as fresh in the air as the night it was last spilled. The horizon is a barren blanket of pale Hell. Hills and valley of nothing but ice. She has to subsist on the carcasses of those unfortunate enough to die here, but it's better than the alternative of starvation. Now, as this odd blue sun sets she must begin her hunt anew for HIM.

Who knows how long it's really been? Longer than she would like, to be certain. But she's lost track of time entirely, and she has no idea how long or what's going to happen next. And at this point, she's not sure it matters; what will happen is going to happen, and she has no say in the matter.

But being betrayed by someone who had given her hope was not what she had expected. Not what she wanted. Not what she needed. Olivia had some small beacon of hope with him, that she wasn't alone, that she might be able to get through it. And then he tried to kill her, leaving her for dead. But she didn't die. And that was his mistake.

Once she manages to recover, she follows the burning trail, similar to the one she tends to leave in her wake. But this time, the trail is already there. She pauses at the edge of the frozen desert, considering for a brief moment before trudging onward. She will find him. Eventually. Whether he's already dead or not, she will find him.

Tracking used to be a difficult task. Something she could never has mustered before. This realm is an excellent teach. Its unforgiving nature and even more unforgiving residents make sure of that. FIrst its eyes to the ground, looking for markings he's left with each melted step. Next comes scents and looking for anything else. He went forward from where she started, and started booking it left. From the appearance of things he was being chased by something or some things. It's hard to say here as four heavier tracks are behind his.

Olivia can't stop the small smirk that comes to her lips. Well, something was chasing him. Not her problem. She's just going to make sure they finished the job. She follows along in the footsteps left behind, trying to match her stride with the existing prints to leave as little as possible in her own wake; she knows that some of the snow will melt under her steps. She's gotten used to that part, at least. But best not to make too many more tracks to follow if she doesn't have to.

She finds that unlike her blazing kin her steps don't make as much of an impression in the ice. His trail doesn't grow faint. Even if he tries to make himself hard to find it's too much to deny his nature. Where Olivia cleaved close to her callousness he was still an angry bastard bent on his own dominion. Minutes pass as she follows, and they soon turn to hours. As the sky begins to darken she can hear a struggle off in the distance. First, the corpse of some icy beast left to die, his body left in a similar fashion to the state she was left in.

She can hear them down the hill. The clash of metal fighting metal and the gleam of steel. He was tall, but not much more than Olivia. His opponent was a woman that towered over them both, covered head to toe in thick white fur. Barely anything close to a feminine shape remained, but that pitch of her roar and the hint of curves betray what she used to be. From where Olivia stands the other woman's claws meet the dagger of the fiery man. Near her lie several spiky protrusions of ice, likely something left in the furry woman's wake as she fought the burning man.

Olivia glances sideways at the fallen beast, studying it curiously. If it has any weapons or items of use plainly visible, she pauses briefly to scoop them up. Just in case. The corpse doesn't need them, but she does. Olivia climbs the hill and then lowers herself to the ground slightly, making herself a smaller target. Less easily seen. That's the theory, anyway. She watches the battle, letting the two of them go at each other. One of them is going to die eventually. She can take care of the rest. What would be the point in jumping into the middle of this? Whoever wins won't help her.

Amid the body she doesn't find much of anything beyond the knives left by the burning man. While the corpse is dead there's something else there. His skin is cold to the touch, and its there that it appears that the man's knives found no purchase. If Olivia's hand lingers there longer she finds that same cold overtaking her, and putting out the many fires breaking out of her skin.

The giant woman bellows her rage, taking several maddening swipes at the man. He deftly blocks each one with the easy of someone practiced with a blade. The story of him being rather helpless and hopeless was nothing more than another lie. When the woman tries to sink those claws into his chest he parries her attack, and in one flourish comes down to stab her in the neck. She clutches her throat, gurgling something indecipherable. The fiery man kicks her midsection, and after she topples over he finishes his kill with one quick slice across her throat. Once it's clear that his opponent isn't getting up he begins cleaning the blade on her fur. "That's the sad thing. You fools never had a chance."

Olivia doesn't let her hand linger. She wants nothing to do with that chill. She shakes her hand off to one side, flexing her fingers and making sure the fire flows. It isn't blood anymore; just flames. She turns her focus instead to the fight going on at the bottom of the hill, waiting. Watching. Someone will win eventually.

And, of course, it's HIM. Olivia hisses softly through her teeth, eyes narrowing a little bit as she feels some of the fury at the betrayal bubbling up. She could never stand against that. She has no skill with a blade. Also no blade. So she inches back just a touch, looking for some sort of way to ensnare him, or disarm him.

From around her there is nothing to use for trickery and subterfuge. The world around and abound is ice. Harsh, cold, unfeeling. Her fiery nature makes her an easy thing to spot as night continues to encroach upon them. The wind cuts the air, biting into exposed flesh and blowing blowing snow this way and that for the moment.

Olivia slides back from the edge of the hill, sighing quietly and rubbing her hands over her face. She looks around, weighing her options. There aren't many. There isn't a lot out here. No caves, no traps. She could run, but that's just not an option. He left her to die. He failed. She won't. Her jaw rolls slightly as she considers, eyes sliding back over towards the fallen frozen creature. This is going to hurt. A lot. Olivia reaches one hand over, pausing for just a moment longer before gritting her teeth and reaching in to pull the icy chill out for her own purposes.

It does hurt. Touching the beast's chest feels like her hand is on fire. That sensation continues as her claws sink into his chest. The sounds of his chest cavity giving way to her efforts crack and squelch under the force tearing its way through. As she reaches his heart that she feels it in her own. That sensation of pain wrapped in perverse pleasure. Plucking out his heart was an easier endeavor as hunger calls for her. She had eaten her share of oddities here, but this one called to her. Beyond survival a chance for some measure of happiness in this freezing hell.

Olivia grits her teeth, biting back the whimper of pain that comes with it. She doesn't want to expose herself. Not yet. She shudders as the pain is tangled up in some strange sensation of pleasure, pulling the creature's heart out of its chest as she exhales slowly through her lips. "I hate this fucking place," she mutters softly to herself, examining the heart in her hand for a moment before raising it to her mouth to consume it.

It goes down with a bit of pain. Not spicy, but it burns hotter than anything she has ever had in her life. After the first bite goes down it gets easier. The thing is chunky, and the beast's blood spills from her lips as she finishes that hearty meal. The lsat of it goes down and she can feel it in her chest. It burns from her center and spreads throughout every bit of her body. It could be the change in her demeanor as the days pass by or that meal, but the fires in her die down.

She can still feel it in her. A tinge of something familiar and always there. Her skin hardens further, freezing over bit by bit until her entire form is as blue as the heart she took in. The remnants of her fire can be seen in the faint, amber glow on her fingertips, her still fiery hair, and the blaze found in her gaze.

Olivia squeezes her eyes shut, exhaling a slow breath between her teeth. Not quite smoke, not quite steam. It's just... there. She flexes her fingers slowly, rolling her shoulders and getting used to the sensation of her own body. Again. Her eyes open and she looks down at her hands, now blue instead of cracked firey landscape. "Still hate this place," she says, shaking her head and slowly pushing herself up onto her feet. Now, her attention focuses on HIM. He's probably still gloating. Olivia shakes her head and begins to make her way down the hill towards him, fingers shifting slowly at her sides. She's used to summoning weapons of fire. Now? Now she's trying for a weapon of ice.

Nothing at first. Her claws are normal, and trying to recall them even with ice draws a blank. That bestial tie is gone, but something else does arise in her minds eye. Her own will overcoming that which defies her. She wrests control of it through her connection with the Wyrd grows. It begins as a pain that centers around her hands. She has to bring her palms together to center the process, and eventually she forms a dagger made of ice. Equal in temper and toughness as the blades left behind by the fiery man, although slightly smaller and much more elegant.

Olivia has no idea what she's doing. Or how she does it. She's following her instinct, forcing things to happen through sheer will. The need to survive, and what she feels she must do to achieve that goal. She hisses through her teeth as she feels the sharp pain, looking down at her hands as SOMETHING begins to happen. While it wasn't quite what she was going for, it works just as well. Daggers in hand, Olivia hefts them carefully, checking their weight and balance before focusing her gaze on the fiery man and hurling one of them in his direction before attempting to summon another. If it doesn't work, she still has one in hand.

He doesn't see it coming. He was relishing ni his last kill. As the blade cuts through the air like a literal knife he catches sight of it. He may be fast, but the human torch isn't fast enough to stop it as it impaling his left thigh. He looks up to her, eyes wide with shock. Fire drips and seeps out like hot magma, spilling down his leg as he tries to pull the blade free. He screams in pain, steam forming around his grip of the handle until he lets go. He's hobbled, but now he's as angry as Olivia. He limps toward her after turning his knife underhand, and shouts, "It's a go'er, then. You shoulda stayed dead."

"You made the mistake of not ACTUALLY killing me. So now? Now I kill you, traitor." Olivia turns slightly, standing out of arm's reach for the time being as she hurls another one of the blades at him. "I trusted you, and you tried to KILL ME! And for what?!" She narrows her eyes at him, gathering up whatever icy strength she can get to hurl it in his direction, hands raising at her sides. "What was the point? I did NOTHING to you! So NOW I will!"

The first knife hits him square in the shoulder of his off hand. The knife that was forming up in his hand drops with a feathery thud. He still has his good arm, and he's ready to lunge at her as best he can. Then another knife finds its way home in his righ arm. It hits him right below the elbow, and he can't grit through it. His leg is now stiffened and he can't truly move it, stuck there as he points his impotent rage at Olivia. "I was just doing what I had to do to survive. You can't be stupid enough to tell me you weren't doing the same this whole time, huh?"

"Uh uh," Olivia says, shaking her head as she begins to step towards him. One hand rises, a single finger wagging in his direction. "That's bullshit." She looks him over, small flames still flickering in her eyes as she pauses just out of arms' reach. "You didn't try to kill me in my sleep because you had to survive. I wasn't a threat to you. You had no need to attack me, much less try to kill me." She tilts her head to the side, hair falling around her face. "So now I AM doing what is needed to survive. You started this fight. I'm ending it." The next blade she summons is long and thin, and this time, it goes for his head.

"It's called predation. It's not my fault you thought I didn't see you as a threat, and it's not my fault you didn't see me as one." He shrugs as best he can with a bum shoulder. He's hurting, bad, and might not have a ton of time left if she doesn't take those daggers out. Luckily for him he doesn't have to worry about that. He sneers when he sees sword, "Oh it's not even that bad. It's not like you're dead. I could've easily di-" Nothing more but silence as the tip of the blade touches his skull. He screams bloody murder. Its so loud and so sonorous that she's likely gonna be enjoying this in her dreams. Eventually the pain is too much for him to suffer, and he leaves the world of the waking as he drifts off the mortal coil. Fifteen.

Olivia has no intention of reclaiming the blades. Even as he falls, they can stay right where they are. She just clucks her tongue softly and shakes her head. "You can't push your own actions onto me," she tells the corpse, nudging him with her foot. "I'm not going to die here." Right? Right. She turns to walk away, then. Away from the fallen bodies, and searching for some place to rest.
}}