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John listened to her and pretended to go along while before noticing that she somehow promptly fell asleep. He bet she had some kind of wacky sleeping disorder. John sighed, buying a all day pass as they got off the bus together. He noted that they were in his home's neighborhood and that she lived close enough to be his neighbor. These thoughts could wait. For now John hurried across the streets and to his home. So much water attacks, debris here and there. Aside from the water, his house's exterior didn't seem so bad. He looked behind him to the house Eleanora had gone into, her's was damaged like his and everyone else's in this area of Coy City, except...worse. Maybe she was checking on her house's state. John's curiosity would have to wait for now. He needed to see how much was lost, so he used his house key to enter his home and immediately he began to pray that his feet wouldn't smash through the floor boards. Aside from it all being soaked, and most if not all of the place's electrical things being ruined, his home was in pretty good shape. It actually made him smile.

He moved to his backyard and glared at the crushed flowers of his mother's garden. Freaking water dumped at kid's tricycle right on them. He sighed and let it go, the flowers could be replanted. John didn't bother with his room. He did not want to go through any pain that might cause. He sniffed before heading outside onto the waterlogged streets. His phone was out in minutes while he got a hold of his mother. She was currently staying at a hotel near the stadium, usually used for out of statesmen who came for the games and splendor of Coy City. He knew where it was and asked his mother to get him a room with two beds. He had a poor unfortunate soul to take care of. His mother agreed and secured him a room with what he wished for.

His phone back in his pocket. he sighed and stared at the green soakage that was Eleanora's home. He should just leave her be. Just follow the damn rules and leave everyone be. But he felt in his heart that that would not protect him. He rubbed his eyes and straightened his posture while making the two minute trip to Eleanora's house. His eyes roamed over the disrepair and ruin that couldn't have been done by the water. It looked more like a ...hut than anything. Chipped paint, holes in the porch and even in some of the walls...Knocked out windows and a soggy looking roof. How could he and Cherno not have discussed this house's state? He looked a bit closely. Hm, in certain places it looked like ramshackle repair had been made by an inexperienced hand. Her father should not be allowed to touch or build anything. He chuckled to himself, as a guy he should at least escort her to the stadium and if she decided to, she could hang with him at the Pilton's Hotel. With a witch in his pocket, how could he lose? His plan was sure proof. His fist reached out and rapped three times on her paint chipped door.

John hated buses and swallowed the uncomfortableness of sitting on something so many asses had sat on before. He slipped off his bookbag so he could rest his back on something and turned his face so he could keep her in his main field of view. He listened to her intently, figuring that caring would he the safest way to get on an immature witch's good side. She was adorable, he gave her that. Her speech made him think she might have been crazy but he decided to go down this path and Lord willing he would see it through. And so John listened intently to her introduction and finally her deduction? Heterochromia having to do with him being special? Well as a kid it was the main reason he placed himself above everyone else, even proclaiming to be a more special Christian.

He smiled at her, glad she noticed how grand he was compared to their fellow man. "John is my name, I will respond to all forms of it except Jay. .." He paused as if still thinking about her words. He was not here to talk about him. But how should he ask a stranger for help in his task. Best to play it cool, be a part instead of apart. His head felt funny, as he spoke to this strange girl. He shook it off as stress before speaking up again to her, "I am glad you noticed how different I am from the others. But I just guessed it was my eyes being different genetically, not magically." His next look was skeptical, but not on of disbelief or anger.

He didn't know what answer he was expecting but he was sharply saddened when she simply replied to him. He blinked and settled into his stony bench to wait for the bus when two more people appeared to wait at the stop. He kept his mouth shut when he recognized Anthony as the boy he had given his number to at Lacey's when Cherno proposed his research-the-demoness idea. The witchling responded again to him, positively this time before she vanished into the bus.

He hated the feeling of making new friends, despite how good with words he was, people still made him nervous when he wasn't simply going to judge them and be on his way. Though he did frown as he payed his bus fare and made his way down the aisle. What could she possibly want with him. John's eyes turned critical, as he sat down beside her on the bus. From her characteristic umbrella to her animated movement.... She was just as eccentric as the video game kid. The only difference to John is that in this game, he believed in witches.

John began to immediately clean up his room after he switched off the TV. As he cleaned he made sure to charge his phone and sling his bookbag over his shoulder. His legs moved with adrenaline fueled nervousness, his heart was thudding in his chest. No where was safe. No one was safe. As he took one more look at the room he shut the door behind him and began to head for the front door. If he flew past anyone then he completely ignored them. Screw this, ain't nobody got time for that. Or this. He just needed to get away.

The stinging cold of the mountain air was refreshing as he took a deep breath. It helped him focus though he pulled his jacket on tighter against the chill. His jaw was clenched and his head was still but his eyes kept roving over everything infront of his vision. There was one strangely dressed but young girl at the stop. He almost cried in relief though he eyed her warily. Settling on the very edge of the bench for the bus, he checked his phone's clock and deduced that there was 10 minutes till the bus came.

Cherno was probably be dead. Madeline maybe. Who knew any more? Bellhurst was cursed. Or this group was. John slouched forward and put his in his face in his hands and tried to meditate on getting the hell away from here. Again he glanced at the young girl beside him, she looked familiar. Another Bellhurst kid? But surely not one on the list? It was time to drop the facsimile. Jesus was going on the back burner. Because John was getting tired. Most of all he was tired of losing, it was time to start winning. Epically.

He rubbed the tears that was forming on his eyes corners and turned to face the girl beside him. She was so damn familiar, Christian habits died hard and those habits helped John run through his list of heathens from Bellhurst. Witch heathen! The irony of them forming some kind of force was so yummy that John could not resist. And it would help take his mind off recent, horrid, events. "It's not every day that God and the Earth have two of their people meet like this... witch."

John stared up at the ceiling as memories of yesterday flooded his now awakened conscious. He snifflesd feeling the tears well up in his eyes. He slowly sat up and blinked them away. He checked his phone, a couple texts, lackies, which were noted but ignored. There was one from his mother. Hm. It told him to watch the News. He glanced at the TV and began to rummage in his bag for new clothes. He needed to shower first and so he did, he finger brushed his teeth and washed his face before settling onto the bed feeling refreshed. Two Bellhurst kids. Dead. Crestatia. Rule breakers or completely two unknown students who had nothing to do with them. His heart thudded in his chest. What if it was Cherno, it had been days! He spammed called Cherno's number as he rushed out his room. Someone had to know something. And he'd find them and squeeze it out of them.

John held his stomach and groan quietly as he traveled the halls back to room 347. He was stuffed. And it felt so good. He sighed in relief as he sat on his bed. Briefly he remembered what had happened there mere hours ago. He sighed again and crawled into bed. He was so drowsy, the itis was making nothing but sleep important too him. He yawned andkicked off his shoes before burrowing into the blankets and shutting his eyes for the night. Good sex. Good food. What a night.

John's teeth tore into the green skinned fruit. The pear never stood a chance. He devoured two and quickly began to use his fork for the purpose of shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth. He was cold but he took comfort in it. The place had a few spots to eat outside so after dressing himself he found a nice buffet like assortment of food and left the building entirely. As he tore into the very well done but small steak on his plate, he thought quietly to himself.

This was bad, a terrible mess. He let his guard down and Old Johnny came right back to propose a bold idea like bang buddies. He frowned and blew warm and light on his fingers. The mountains were so cold and the sky so clear it was lovely really. Almost made him forget there was a blonde vixen inside that could ruin his holier than thou reputation. He didn't know what to do, so he ate. And he thought. And he ate. And he thought some more. In the end he found two answers. Find Cherno and let him work his logical magic. Ha. Logic and magic. And find Madeline, and ensure the silence of both of them.

If God let them meet in the dark once, surely he'd let them meet again. He swallows the last bit of steak and said a quick blessing to the chef, the steak was damn good.

John watched her, she said his name. This was no ordinary familiar street tramp. This was the tramp named Madeline Moore. Ow. A spike drove through his skull as he kept his gaze on her. Eyes narrowing, not in judgement, but in anger. Her panicked movements were annoying him. Sheesh, would she calm down. If Reuben sent her to him, then he most certainly couldn't be the worse thing she slept with. On top of that. She was nude, and bouncing around, and suddenly, on the floor sobbing, and begging to not be ratted out. He ignored her and slipped on his shirt. Keeping calm because he really felt like getting a cig and just sucking it until the ash burned his mouth. Her panic was starting to kick into his mental state, but he gritted his teeth and though his eyes were wide to portray how affected he was, he still helped locate her clothing. Finally he at least found her shirt and pants. He shoved his pants on and dug around the pockets for his pack of smokes, popping one free he slowly approached her sobbing form.

John dropped to one knee about three feet away from her, ignoring her still naked form, for the moment, and tapping her skull twice with the top of his cigarette. He saw her fight with Temperance, and was observant enough to know that despite her 'job', she was solitary enough to not like or just not get used to human touch. His mind flickered back to that cold night he found her sleeping in her car again. Oh how empathy swept through him. "Jesus H. Christ, Madeline, put some clothes on. And fucking breathe." He ran a hand through his golden hair before he quoted his earlier thoughts while continuing his speech. "This isn't your first job, obviously, and God isn't an idiot. This is just too...different to be random." He wanted to shake her shoulder while she sobbed, just so she could look at him and he could know for sure she was listen. God, would she stop with the tears, it plucked his soul strings, making him feel crummy despite the consensual of it all.

"I don't always fuck girls. But when I do, I do it discreetly," he tapped her with the cigarette's tip again. Did he have that effect on girls? Sex then tears? He didn't know, but if that was the case, no sex for him, ever. "We're doing this freaking survival game crap together, why would I tell people what you do? I could give two fucks...So long as I'm getting a cut." His smile became sweet, his shoulders slouched so his demeanor didn't look as intimidating as normal while his brain whirled through the ramifications of what was happening. In truth, the brain cells in his mind were screaming abort, abort, find a different room, you shirtless shithead. But it didn't matter who they were, told on and embarrassed people in the true hopes that they'd get their crap together and stop doing the idiotic thing that they were doing. He looked at his cigarette as that thought passed through his brain fleetingly. Damn brain, sometimes you're too ironic. His sweet smile never wavered, partly because it was genuine, "Forget truces for the moment, Madeline, I'm offering friendship. And all it requires is you saying yes. This will have never happened, we will both have gained a friend." There was no love for this girl. A dash of lust maybe, John had a thing for the damaged goods, after all, but no love. In-fact, he would have left minutes ago if she hadn't started sobbing and in turn made him remember that she was going through crud before the flood happened.

"Maybe sometime soon we'll be naked in bed and swapping stories of how life decided to throw a demon into our lives." He stood up and stretched, placing the cigarette's butt in his mouth when his hands went above his head, with expertise, he kept talking with the white stick in his mouth, he had to quit again, these things would be the death of him, but that could weight until he survived, maybe. "After all, Madeline, what's a good friend without a few 'benefits'?" His left eye shut for a brief second, his clear colored eye winking at her in the way only practice winking could. John just couldn't believe people just winked and made it look as good as they did on T.V. without some help. And John winked perfectly. The only thing that was wrong with the picture aside from the words involved and the half naked people in it, was the fact that his stomach rumbled. Loudly.

Her warmth left his back immediately and he nodded his agreement to her sudden frigidity. He didn't need to see her to know she might have been upset by what he said. Disdain kicking in. He scooted to the edge of his bed and switched on the light beside his bed. Finding his shorts and tugging them on before taking out his wallet and and quickly counting out the money before handing it too her. Thirty dollars left too his name. Wonderful. He sighed at the thought of losing money, but he didn't feel as lonely so that was a pretty good consolation.

He dropped his wallet onto the floor and turned back to face the mysterious woman, his lips already mouthing a "get out" which died on his lips. She looked dreadfully familiar, to the point where he could not recover from his falter. Nearly too thin to be intact, too thin to be healthy, blonde hair, sharp features that were still cute despite being able to cut glass and a soul piercing stare that could rival his own. His memory banks dredged up the memory of John knocking on a car door and tell someone to get the hell of his property (well, the Church's). But that prideful heathen couldn't be this one. No no. The hair was too different, that's right, no one gets a hair cut while being in a game of death. So no, he couldn't have just payed Madeline for sex and therapy.

He couldn't have.

"I know that there are billions of us out there... But they're just billions of idiots! So the fact that I could tolerate them is a big deal." He spoke quickly and in a monotonous voice. The darkness making his mental images of the past few weeks very clear. So much death. So many things out of proportion. This dumb, naive, heathen. He bet she never even left the city limits unless it was for guys like him. Just one in a million who should be thankful that they have normalcy in their lives.

John clenched his eyes shut, the worse memory was being surrounded by flames. Flames on all sides, and just before the heat could become unbearable, and his clothes began to smoke...His eyes snapped open and he was able to catch the tail end if her words as her lips brushed his collarbone, sending a shiver down his spine, and not his pleasure center. "You don't have many friends, do you? Haha, having talks with the source..." his voice faltered and fell silent as she realized he was right. John was Cherno's best friend in all of Coy City. John deserved an answer at the very least, and so with a hooker's help, he resolved to get his answer from Cherno Plume.

He frowned when he felt her press into his back. He didn't expect her to touch him. He reached up and clutched his face, thinking about what to say to her. Random bull or the truth? She was a working girl of the night, he would probably never see her again. Hell, she probably lived in Brookridge so he would have a very low chance of seeing her again. He tightened his lips in thought...he did trade a technical piece of his soul with her, according to his religion.

John shifted to fit more comfortably with her mold and cleared his throat before speaking out loud. "I... don't have a lot of friends. Especially since I moved here to this state a few years ago. I made one best friend. Just one, I thought it was all I needed. But now I need him around. Crazy stuff is happening and he's ...vanished, basically." He frowned and took as much comfort as he dared from her warmth and the concealing darkness as his words slowly lost it's vibrancy on the air waves. "I just feel lonely. And I don't know what to do about it."

John's body was on some kind of auto pilot, it was like riding a bike and he had spent many times on the bike and the way to do it came back with each movement. As they worked she became more vocal and soon John had her toes curling, this by default made her much, much more amazing because it stroked his ego in more ways than one. He neared his peak and went over the mountain with her and getting the buzz he was looking for while her last words began to sink in. Money? Oh, right. He moved calmly and slowly. Feeling good like liquid heaven in his veins. "Just a moment...I have to recover." He plopped on the bed right beside her, she wouldn't leave until she got her money. "Just a few more minutes. Please."

He visibly flinched when her slightly colder hand was abruptly yanked from his grasp. He was glad she couldn't see it. The uncontrollable vulnerability he showed in moments like these. He knew what she was doing based on the soft sounds of something light enough to be clothes hitting the floor. He was softly impatient with her. His fingers reaching out into the darkness, it wasn't difficult to find her, if he squinted right and in the right direction, she was so pale he could see a blurred and faint whiteness in the dark.

Her smell wasn't repulsive and neither was her speech, that made this easier for him as--by his hands-- her clothing fell off, piece by piece. Anything that covered their skin was on the floor by the time a few quiet minutes had past. Her flesh was warm and getting warmer as his hands moved. He would not leave a lady out in the cold, so with easy effort, she was so light weight, he had her covered in his blankets and with just as much surprise to them both.

His lips met hers in a kiss a slow and languid kiss. He could feel something stir in his chest, a rush. The rush he'd been waiting for slowly began to fill his heart. His lips pressed into her more pouty ones. As more time escaped, his dominance was on full blast. She was his. He was greedy and he kept her all to himself. For a few hours, at least, he physically got somebody to care.

He could hear someone fiddling with the doorknob outside had his heart began to thud in his chest, deeper and harder, as if he were jogging or about to he murdered. His body stiffened like a board as she sat on the edge of his bed. He chastised himself for being such a baby when he'd done this before. His jumbled emotions were crying for his pack of cigarettes but he didn't touch them, this was weird enough as is. Her voice was shy and young, really young. As John sat up, however, he relaxed because there was no way a young girl could be sent to him, here of all places too, so outside of Coy City. She was probably just used to adopting this kind of voice for her work to rake in customers.

Her story didn't matter to John, it was the physical book that he wanted, not the words on the page. He forced out a yes from his throat to her question about the money. Praying the amount spent would fill up the hole he felt, if only marginally. His fingers reached out to curl around her smaller ones. With a firm grip he tugged her gently towards his end of the bed.

He was antsy again. He wanted to hit the hot springs to calm himself but he didn't want to meet or see others. His glare, his pride and joy could not be unleashed because his shame was so high that he couldn't look even the lowliest sinner in the eye. His eyes roamed the ceiling of his room. Two beds? Pfft, he wanted no one in the room, despite wanting it packed to the brim with life living humans. John sighed, as the thought of what he was about to do coiled around his lone feelings to the point where he hopped out of bed and tossed his back pack into a corner.

Moving to the lovely view to the curtained windows, he drew them closed and inspected the crack where the curtains met to ensure that there was no speck out light shining through at all. He received a buzz from his phone, a short one, alerting him that he'd gotten a text. He moved to and switched off all the lamps as he read the text he received. A certain thing was coming to his door as he spoke. He nodded at the words though no one could see him in the near total darkness.

Once the room was thoroughly darkened, he made sure that he was ready for what was going to happen. His text also mentioned leaving the door unlocked? Typical, given this situation. He shrugged. The shame he felt could be hidden deep in this darkness, while his face could hide from the undeserving heathens who would try to see him. He laughed a bit at himself as he brushed his teeth before he crawled into bed and dug into his blankets for warmth. It's funny, the biggest saint is one of the biggest sinners.

John had done this time in time before so he knew just what to do and who to talk to. He was in and out and under ten minutes. He felt bad upon exiting the apartments and heading to the bus stop down the block. At the top of the hour he took the bus to the shuttle's that went to Trembling Mountain directly. On the way there John wished he asked his mother for more money. She had given him more then the fifteen he had at the stadium, but that was nearly halfway depeleted.

Hours later John found himself dropped off infront of the shuttle station nearest Trembling Mountain. As he looked at the building built into the mountain. He nervously clutched the strap of his backpack before heading into the place with a regal arrogance, swallowing his nervous nerves as he approached the front desk and showed them his school ID kept in his wallet. They gave him directions to the rooms assigned to te high school kids and their guest. An entire floor. They must be expecting a lot of people. His eyes and mind ignored all humans, observing them like the decor in the halls. The first room he abruptly entered was empty. Blessedly empty. He closed his door behind him and face planted the bed. Groaning in a lonely remorse.

SPECIAL. MAP. ANNOUNCEMENT.

What? is now offering to add pictures to places on the map! Message him here or on Skype with the images and places already in mind.

John yawned and scratched the side of his cheek. Blearily opening his eyes and bolting upright in bed, WHERE THE HELL WAS HE!? Oh. Right. He was still at the cathedral. John needed an agenda, and fast. He could check out the hot springs today. Hmph. Maybe not, time would tell. His head felt groggy, as he slowly got out of bed, slipping into new jeans that seemed to look the same shade of blue as the old one. The sweater he wore was a simple white thing, it almost felt wintery since it had light blue snowflakes horizontally flowing across the chest and stomach areas of the shirt. Didn't matter, it was warm and long sleeved, mentally he thanked God for his current luck with clothes. He was feeling antsy however and so while calling up his mother for a ride he found himself walking outside five minutes later, with a knowing nod from Mr. Shannery and a new backpack with clothes and a bottle of water, he told his mother where to pick him up. She was pleased, and quizzed him all about it, he gave her the information, from the building's state and health, to the few financial reports he'd managed to read. After that she would pick him up in a borrowed car.

The red PT Crusier made John frown, he disliked that car, no human being on the planet had so few things that they'd need that little amount of trunk space. It was flat out dumb and John cursed the stupidity of the makers. He hugged his mother though, when she stepped out of the car, a genuine smile on his face as she teared up and gave him the once over before deciding he'd be okay on his own again. But he didn't get dropped off at Trembling Mountains, instead John convinced her to drop him off somewhere nearby Symphonia University. The school was zoomed by and his fingers drummed on his cheek as he thought about what he was going to do. He felt crummy, and this action was going to give him a great endorphin boost.

He was already forgetting about the real reason he was here, the feeling of abandonment, a dark pit in his stomach that seemed to cloak every part of his being. His croonies or Cherno usually were there too help this feeling dissolve. But they were no where to be found. He checked his phone once more as he stood on the sidewalk outside the complex. Still not a response too his message to Cherno, sent last night. He could feel his body inhaling to sigh out his loneliness, but he caught himself. John was going to get everything he needed from this one person. Slowly his mother pulled to a stop a few cars away from the building he wanted to go into. His mother had no idea what he felt, and he wanted so bad to talk to some one who wasn't insane from this damn game. But he gritted his teeth and assuaged her that he was fine, and was heading to Trembling Mountain from there with Cherno. Ha. It'd would be hilarious if the Lord brought Cherno to this Godforsaken place. Only God and Cherno could even predict the probability of that happening, he just need a familiar name to keep his mother relaxed since she would not be going to the hot springs or even dropping him off. As she spoke to him, he stared at her, but he didn't listen. Instead he fault hard to keep his eyes from producing liquid or his nose from sniffling too much. He was a sad, sad man, and he was all alone too boot.

His arms burned as he swept the dust with the broom into a dust trapper held with his right hand. He relished in the burn, it was a normal wound, it means he'd been exerting himself all day and he was alive! A live! He took in a greatful breath of air and grinned as he finally finished sweeping the segment he was assigned by Mr. Shannery. He wiped sweat from his brow without even thinking about the filthy jerms envolved and wondered briefly how Cherno was doing before his shoulder was tapped by Mr. Shannery, who cordially asked if he would like to come to a service next week. At that, John gazed up at the regal beauty that was the inside of a gaint cathedral and nodded virgirously. He was so used to small and medium sized churches of the baptist variety that he felt himself falling in love with the images he'd been reblogging all day. The very pictures he'd scoured Tumblr for was about to become his new refuge.

Good things can come from a city wide flood. Who knew?

He took a break in the kitchen of the cathedral, letting the cold water in the cup become warmer as his hand became colder. Now that he wasn't moving or cleaning something inside the building, he admired it's artwork and let his mind wander back to the conversation with his mother. A school wide invitation to the hot springs. It'd be swarming with heathens, no matter when he went in. But his friend Cherno might be there, and his mother had secured him a ride if he so choose to go. He sighed, he could just call Cherno to check up on him. But that's a bad friend thought! He shook his head and sighed, he was in a large cathedral, gathering clothes and getting cleaned would be no problem. And..those idiots weren't all bad. After all, they were born sinners, just like him. His fist clenched as he thought about how they seemed to just not be able to get together and solve at least one of their many problems. Sighing John decided to go, even if it was just to talk with Cherno, who would be receiving a text on where to meet up with him. But most importantly he asked Cherno if he needed a ride, after all, when John left the school, he kept in contact with no one but his mother.

When he left the kitchen, he winced as he stretched tiredly, he was going to be slightly sore in the morning. Glancing out the window as he prepared for bed, he prayed that they'd all make without another death.