The Forgotten Zodiac

((He does. He's very un-messed up in this one. Except that he would kill Malya and Werr if Tyler and the others got hurt, he would sacrifice his own mother to save the skin of those he considered in his 'group', and he can control heat. Except for that, he's totally normal.

Werr can flip the car if you like. James would just grab Quinn and jump through the windshield.))

James muttered something annoyed under his breath. "Stop crying, Quinn." He gave up trying to go through town and pulled back out onto the highway. He couldn't go fast enough in town to keep him happy. "I don't feel like knocking you out again."

Timothy finished eating and looked up to see what was distracting Sylas' attention. "What's wr-wrong with Malya?" He asked nervously. She looked hurt. Lotis hurt people. "L-Lotis isn't here, is h-he?"

((Even though he never put on his seatbelt?))

"I-I can't not cry! I'm scared!" Quinn wailed, somewhat angry. James was telling her to stop crying? How the heck could he expect her to do something like that in this situation?

"No," Vrach replied. "Hit with a grenade."

"Grenade?" Sylas blinked, very much confused.

"Little egg that goes boom, very dangerous at short range. I did not hear much from Werr, but apparently, there is boy named James who stole Malya's car."

"Oh dear, James? Lotis cannot be far behind..." Sylas frowned, wrapping an arm around Timothy protectively.

((Not having a seatbelt would help. He's jumping through the windshield with light all over him.))

The older boy huffed, annoyed at Quinn. She was a crybaby, and it was getting on his nerves. "Then gag yourself so your obnoxious tears will stop being noticable to me."

Timothy whimpered and pulled up against Sylas. He'd already hurt Sylas; he hoped the Iyouis never found out that he was James' little brother. James was scary. "J-James? You're s-s-sure? James is b-bad. Super b-b-bad."

((Having a seatbelt would prevent him from his head smashing into the roof when the car gets flipped, Sage.))

Quinn clenched her hands into fists, trying to stop crying. Quinn looked down at her hands, which were dripping with her own tears. She gathered the water into the palm of her hand, apparently just now remembering that she could, indeed, manipulate water. Salty as it was, tears were a form of liquid. Quinn covered her fist with the tears, forming hard, icy knuckles. She aimed a punch at James' face, having no idea what else she could do with it.

"Yes, yes, not that I care. Just so long as there is no coming back from him," Vrach grunted, checking Malya's pulse for perhaps the fourteenth time since he had brought her inside.

((Unless he uses his MAGICAL POWERS to survive.))

Quinn hit James in the face and he grunted. He reached out and grabbed her hand, then twisted, intending to hurt her wrist enough that she wouldn't try it again, then a little more. "That was a stupid idea. Never try it again, or I'll probably decide to choke you until you pass out."

Timothy looked around nervously, as if expecting James to pop out of a cupboard and eat someone. "James always c-c-comes b-back." He wrapped his arms around himself and shuddered, scooting closer to Sylas, if that was possible, for comfort. "He always comes b-back for m-m-me."

((Oh yeah. Haha.))

Quinn tried to jerk her wrist away from him, squeaking a little at the pain. "L-let go!" She practically shrieked at him, the ice falling away from her hand. She reformed it into a small, sharp spike, sending it towards James in a desperate attempt to make him let go.

"But he did not get you, he got Quinn. Why did he take Quinn?" Sylas asked, frowning.

"Don't know." Vrach grunted unhelpfully.

"Oh...well, it is okay, Timothy. I will not let him do anything to you." Sylas patted the boy on the back, smiling a little bit.

((Exactly.))

James pulled his hand back, but not quickly enough. The spike pierced into his thumb and he resisted the urge to jerk it out, knowing that would just cause it to bleed more. With the same hand, he reached out and grabbed Quinn's hand, pinning it against the seat. "I'm still not letting you go."

Timothy shrugged dejectedly. "Maybe he's g-gunna eat h-h-her to s-scare me. I dun-no. I don't kn-n-now why L-L-Lotis is so mean ei-either." Timothy looked up at Malya and Vrach and the fact that she'd been hit with a grenade finally sunk in. "Is sh-she gunna b-b-be ok-kay?"

Quinn squeaked in fear again, trying to drive the ice-spike in further. If she could just draw enough blood, she could use that against him. She could break free before they arrived at the institute, she could run for her life and...she stopped. And what? Get eaten by a bear? Die of starvation? She had nowhere to go, nowhere to run to, especially with Werr and Michael apparently being enemies...

"Poor Quinn," Sylas pouted. "Lotis is mean because he was raised to be mean. So he is mean. Yes, is Malya going to be okay?"

"I cannot tell for sure at this point. I hope it is so." Vrach sighed heavily.

James jerked this time and the car spun. At the spped he was going, distracting him from driving really wasn't safe. He breaked hard, but the only thing that prevented them from rolling was their sliding into a ditch, James' door pinned against the ground. Quinn's chance at escape was boosted by the fact that his elbow hit the 'unlock' button, practically opening the door for her.

Timothy nodded, slowly calming down. "Do you w-want breakfast? Sylas c-c-cooked it. That's wh-why it's delic-c-cious." He said this as if anything Sylas did would have to be fantastic, whether it was cooking or juggling flamethrowers.

Quinn screeched as the car slid into the ditch. She nervously opened her eyes a moment later to see what the situation was. She immediately noticed that the door was unlocked now, and she was alive and not bleeding at all or anything. She quickly unstrapped her seatbelt and pushed the door open, scrambling out into open air.

"No. I am not hungry." Vrach grunted, starting to pace.

Timothy frowned, annoyed that someone didn't want what Sylas had graciously made for them. "But S-Sylas made it." He repeated himself, making clear to Vrach who it was who had made him the breakfast. "Sylas m-m-made it."

((Quinn. Needs. To. Help. Him. He can be all, "Angels?" And she can be all, "I'm a moron."

James didn't fare nearly so well. He hadn't been strapped in, so the crash sent him banging against the door, no matter how well he had braced himself just before the crash. Something had cut his head, but he wasn't sure what. The Gifted crawled out of the car after Quinn, calling out to her indistinctly to turn around.

((She didn't walk off yet, genius.))

"Don't care," Vrach said, really and truthfully not caring who made the food. He didn't want any.

"It is okay, Timothy, mister Vrach has a lot on his mind right now..." Sylas said quietly.

Quinn looked over her shoulder at James. She, having no idea what to do, stopped for a long moment. She was barefoot, and had no idea where she was. She was hungry and cold and would probably die if she went off on her own. Figuring that living in suffering was better than dying and just letting herself do so, Quinn turned around and slowly walked back to James. Not that she had gotten very far at all.

Timothy shook his head stubbornly, but didn't say anything else. He wouldn't argue with Sylas; Sylas was good and nice and took care of him. He would do anything Sylas told him, but Vrach was clearly upset by Malya's being hurt. Otherwise, he would eat Sylas' food. Sylas' food was better than normal food. After all, it came from Sylas.

((Poor Timothy. He's so attached to Sylas. If Sylas ever gets annoyed with him, he'll probably cry himself to death.))

James was delirious by now. He'd banged the back of his head into a log in the ditch, one coated in shards of the broken window. When Quinn reached him, he looked up and all he really saw was a female figure of some sort standing over him outlined by white ((greyish sky + delusion = pure white background to angel)). "Oh... Crap. I'm dead, aren't I?" He murmured.

((Bahaha.))

Quinn drew closer and looking down at James. "Dead? You look alive to me...are you okay?" She asked quietly, stooping down to get a better look at him. His head was bleeding... "You're not okay. Where's the institute? I'll take you there, they'll take care of you..." She said.

What on earth am I doing? She screamed at herself internally.

"The institute?" He asked dreamily. "You must mean hell. I wasn't a good person, you know. If you think I'm alive, I must be dead." A high pitched giggle, ending in a gurgle, escaped his lips and he grabbed her arm around the elbow and pulled himself up, leaning on her heavily. "It's that way! We're off to die!"

Quinn stared at him for several moments before walking in the direction he indicated, putting her hand on his side opposite her, so she could hold him up better. "Er, no, it's not hell...um...well, it is, but...not for you? I mean, yes, it's hell for me, but they'll take care of you there. They'll fix your head." She said, not quite sure what else could be said. She was confusing herself, at this point.

((Bringing in Werr and Michael next post, unless there's an objection.))

((No objections.))

James reached up and touched his head, giggling again when his fingers came away bloody. "Head? I'm dead with a head! That rhymes!" They made a very interesting pair, a dying agent and a prisoner Gifted helping him down the road. "We're off to see the Wizard! The wonderful wizard of doom!" He cackled.

"Er...yeah. Something like that." Quinn just blinked, struggling to help keep James on his feet. A motorcycle quickly approached from behind; Quinn moved to the side of the road, expecting it to continue on. Instead, it swerved and screeched to a halt in front of them.

"Quinn! What..." Werr removed his helmet, frowning at the scene. His first thought was that Quinn was a traitor; here she was, helping James? Then again, if she was a traitor who had left of her own accord, it didn't make sense that she was barefoot. Her feet were bleeding, at that, and the mark on her head meant that she had been hit recently, with enough force to knock her unconscious. Maybe she was delirious? "Quinn, put him down. He's the enemy," Werr said gently, wondering how she would react.

Quinn looked from James to Werr to Michael, who was sitting in the side seater. Quinn shook her head slowly, backing up a pace. "N-no, I..." She stammered, not sure what to do or what to say. "H-he's not...well...he is, b-but...I don't..."

Michael climbed out of the side seater and rolled his eyes. "Quinn, you clearly have absolutely no idea what you're doing. Leave James here, go back to the house with Werr. I can kill him and then Werr can come back for me. You'll never have to see him again." It sounded so simple, but he doubted Quinn would agree. Even normally she'd probably have problems with killing something.

James cackled again and grabbed Quinn's arm tightly, refusing to let go. "It's the devil!" He yelled, pointing at Michael. "And he has a new assistant!" He pointed at Werr, then coughed several times, gasping for breath. "You can't have my angel. She's taking me to hell." He whispered, completely demented.

Werr sighed through his nose, hooking his helmet strap around the handlebars of the bike. He got off and took a few steps towards Quinn. "Come on, let's go. You'll be safe with me." He offered a hand to her, frowning slightly.

"No!" Quinn shrieked, stumbling back and taking James with her. "I know what I'm doing! Y-you two...I'll never be safe with you two! Y-you," She pointed at Michael. "You used to b-be a murderous serial killer, yo-you taught James everyth-thing he knows! And you!" She pointed towards Werr next. "You're a spy! How else did James know where we were? You're still working for the Institute! I'm not going with anyone here! Get off me," She started pushing James off of her, no longer caring that the boy was hurt. She was an emotional trainwreck, she was battered and bruised physically, and she was very confused mentally. At this point, she didn't care that she didn't have anywhere to go, she just knew that she needed to get away from all of these people. She'd go live at the bottom of a lake or something.