[WoD] Ohhhhhhhhh Viennaaaaaaaaa (COMPLETE)

[Fiona Devlin]

:: Fiona was grinning, and bubbles rushed from her mouth as she laughed beneath the water ::

[Michele Hawkins]

I almost got away but was yanked down to a laughing Fiona ... Who's mouth was still hanging open.

What the HELL???

In my surprise, I didn't realize I puffed out the breath I was holding in and felt the rush of water enter my lungs. But I wasn't drowning. My chest compressed and expanded like I was breathing normally as if I had been doing this my entire life. I floated there in awe, watching the bubbles float away from my mouth with each exhalation. I probably had a stupid grin on my face by my excitement but I didn't forget about Fiona and her wicked sense of humor. Woman made me freak out for no reason!!!

Frothy bubbles exhaled outta my nose when I growled and took Fiona in my arms, kissing her deeply.

What an evil way of showing me that Immortals could breath underwater. No wonder she wanted to come to the pool.

[Fiona Devlin]

:: Fiona returned the kiss as they floated back up to the surface intertwined ::

[Rod Stafford]

The buildings of Vienna stood like a row of bad teeth against the pale blue sky. The stones were decayed and stained yellow. Ranks of proud emerald statues guarded gates and hung from the rooftops. The architecture was beautiful and reminded Rod of Liverpool's St. George's Hall. He'd enjoyed lunch in a busy café full of people speaking in languages he didn't understand and thus far, pointing and smiling had worked a treat.

On the European mainland, people were much more forgiving of his eccentric appearance. Rod's untended hair flew out this way and that, a style pioneered in Amsterdam according to Nick, his red shirt was speckled with white polka dots and he wore his favourite large black boots. Unfortunately, they did not go well with the tartan kilt he was wearing. He was pleased to be travelling again and smiled at everyone with whom he made eye contact. A glowing, toothy smile.

He had been staying at the hotel Le Méridien Vienna, which sat neatly in the heart of the city. For the last two hours he'd been retracing his steps, twice he went in a circle and once he walked into the town hall and asked for the keys to his room. Finally, he arrived at the right place. He slipped through a gate which was wrapped in ivy and pink flowers and strolled through the gardens towards the rear hotel entrance. He passed by a large pane of steamed glass and stopped.

Inside, two attractive young women frolicked in the water together. They laughed and splashed each other, spent lengthy periods under the shimmering water together, and even shared an intimate kiss. Mouth agape, Rod llumbered up to the window and pressed his face against it. His sweaty palms squeaked against the warm glass. Bubbles danced around the pair on the water's surface, they kissed again, their gleaming arms snaking around each other.

"My, how the times have changed." Whispered Rod, as he stared. And stared. And stared...

[Fiona Devlin]

:: Fiona's eyes blink suddenly, then focus on the voyeur as she breaks the kiss with a gasp ::

[Michele Hawkins]

The gasp startled me. It wasn't the type of gasp I was hoping for. It was more like, what the hell are you doing kinda tone. Now, maybe I was getting a little too affectionate at the edge of the pool with my wandering hands, but Fiona normally doesn't mind. Hell, usually she's the culprit.

But she was looking past me. I turned around to see what was wrong and some freak of a guy with a polka dot shirt is staring at us.

"Enjoying the show???" I splash the water against the window to get that dumb look off his face.

[Rod Stafford]

As the water slides down the inside of the window, the two women suddenly become clear to him again. They are clearly unimpressed by their audience. He steps away from the window and smiles sheepishly at them. He waves.

<CENTER></CENTER>

[Fiona Devlin]

:: Fiona rose up out of the water, memories racing as she gazed upon his face. She knew him ::

[Rod Stafford]

The snap of the leather reigns cracked throughout the forest, the rickety wooden wheels stirred into motion and the chestnut steed kicked up the first of the fallen yellow leaves. In his mother's arms, René shuddered. Behind them, a thundering of hooves fast approached and above, a grey morning sky winked through the thick trees.

"Fly, Bolas! Faster!" His father cried, cracking the reigns once more.

[Fiona Devlin]

ENGLAND: 1195 A.D.

:: Fiona was busy hunting when she heard the sounds of chase rushing her way. Breakfast hopped off down a rabbit hole and Fiona dove in the other direction as the horses thundered down the path. Sir Guy of Gisburne's men-at-arms. Who were the bastards chasing now??? ::

[Rod Stafford]

"Here, son. Hold tight onto the reigns."

René grasped the thick strap with his small hands. His mother rummaged around in a straw sack beside her. She pulled out a silver globe; green and white light bounced off its smooth surface. His father took it in his left hand, he stood up in the cart and faced their pursuers. He held his free hand aloft and spoke Enochian.

When his mother offered to assist him with reigns, René pulled them away from her and cracked the straps. They raced forward along the dirt path deep into Sherwood forest. His brow knit with focus and his hands stung with the rubbing leather. Behind them, there was an almighty snap. A huge branch suddenly fell from a tree and crashed down upon one of the riders.

"Hold on, son. Everything will be alright!"

[Fiona Devlin]

:: The horse wandered a bit from it's fallen rider, and Fiona wasted no time. She gave the soldier a quick pounce as he tried to get up, then mounted the horse and joined the chase ::

[Rod Stafford]

"Mother, I have an idea," said René, his eyes fixed on the path ahead of them.

"Empty the sack of turnips onto the road behind us."

Flustered, his mother took the sack in her trempling hands and turned around. She knealt on her wooden seat and emptied the sack over the edge of the cart. René heard the turnips thud and tumble along the path behind them. He heard a horse squeal and presumed the plan had worked. His father was still chanting, he understood one of the words: slithen.

An arrow whistled overhead and buried itself into a tree trunk with a twang. No skilled bowman would miss his target by that much, even when riding horseback. 'Slithen' was Enochian for 'arrow'.

[Fiona Devlin]

:: Fiona caught up to the last of Gisburne's men and grinned at him. He growled back, taking a swipe at her with his sword. She ducked down in the saddle, executing a half-dismount spinning kick into his ribs that unhorsed him. It was a trick she picked up from her journeys east, and he never saw it coming ::

[Rod Stafford]

"Many thanks, stranger!" cried out his father.

Curious, Rod turned to catch sight of this stranger. Suddenly, his mother cried out.

"René, the road!"

A boulder sat on the inside of the dirt path, he yanked on the leather strap but was too late to avoid it. The carriage shuddered violently. His mother screamed and dived down. She fell on top of her son and sent him reeling, still holding onto the reigns. Bolas veered off course and dragged the carriage behind him. It rumbled off the path and into a ditch at full speed. René saw his father launched out of the cart and into the air. The wooden beams attatching the carriage to the horse snapped in two and he could no longer keep hold of the straps.

The carriage wheels splintered and buckled. The cart turned upside down. René watched the world spin around him in a bright, dizzy blur as he and his mother barrelled into the thick forest underbrush.

[Fiona Devlin]

:: Fiona's mount was struck by an arrow from the second group of Gisburne's men up ahead. Another arrow peirced her body as the horse reared up, throwing her into a tree. Her neck snapped audibly as she hit the ground at an awkward angle ::

[Rod Stafford]

The stranger fell limp by his side, her eyes open and lifeless. René gasped. He heard the familiar clip-clop of hooves behind him. His mother was weeping over his father nearby. Blood weaved down the dirty creases in his face. He scrambled over to his father and pressed an ear against his chest. His heart pounded and his chest rose and fell steadily.

"Not so fast, boy," said a gruff voice from behind.

Three mounted men approached. They rode slowly off the path and into the ditch. René and his mother grabbed his fathers arms and dragged him through the grass away from the soldiers. They laughed heartily at their desperation. René tripped backwards over a piece of the broken carriage. The men laughed again and his mother whimpered.

Sat in the mud, the boy felt a great rage boil in his chest. When he tried to climb to his feet he felt something wooden beneath his hand. He grasped it and stood. Stepping over his father's body, he gauged the man closest to him and fired. The arrow from the crossbow hit him in the chest and he fell from his horse upon impact.

"You little bastard!"

The captain and the other soldier dismounted and drew their swords. René threw the crossbow at one of them and he ducked out of the way. They approached slowly, the tips of their blades gleaming. He took a deep breath, looked at his mother, then with a roar, charged at the soldiers.



"It was a brave effort, my little darling."

René looked up at his mother through one eye. The other was purple and swollen, his face was cut and heavily bruised, and his thick hair was matted with blood. She offered him a look of consolation as she was lead into the back of a cage wagon. He hopped after her; as well as his hands, his feet had also been bound together after he had kicked one of the guards in the shin.

A guard booted him in the rear and he fell inside. The cage was locked behind him and soon enough, they were on the move, being towed back towards the town. He huddled up close to his mother. Sha had stopped crying but was very pale. His father was still unconcious and the stranger's corpse had been dumped next to him.

"I wonder who she was," he mumbled.

He crawled over to the body and examined it. Her skin was still warm and soft. René ran his fingers over the jagged bump on her neck and over the arrow in her chest. He winced, and tightened his grip on the feathered arrow shaft.

"She tried to save us."

He yanked it out.

[Fiona Devlin]

:: Minutes passed after the arrow was removed, then the bones in Fiona's neck clicked, reknitting as her eyes fluttered open. She gasped, and stared wildly at Rene and his Mother where they sat ::

[Rod Stafford]

In fright, René launched himself backwards. He hit the wagon bars with a clang and there was silence aftwards while he and his mother stared at the women. He opened his mouth.

"You... how... your neck! How?"

[Fiona Devlin]

:: Fiona held a finger to her mouth as one of the men shouted at Rene ::