|
Gate
Jul 19, 2017 8:17:01 GMT
via mobile
Post by DodoDestroyer on Jul 19, 2017 8:17:01 GMT
(Ankari, Avalon and Kveldulf came beyond the Gate so technically, all three species are aliens.)
|
|
|
Gate
Jul 19, 2017 8:34:31 GMT
via mobile
Post by DodoDestroyer on Jul 19, 2017 8:34:31 GMT
Lucia rolls her eyes at the young boy's cocky attitude. She knows this one by his very egotistical ways, her mother had very colourful words about him and his father. "The village drunk's broken son..." She mumbles quietly under her breath. "Well I expected you to be a young, annoying brat that tries to puff out his chest. Only my assumption was correct." She says in her usual snide, then turns to the more handsome looking fellow. "Oh the fight? You mean between the insane villagers who were lusting to strap me to a stake and burn me alive? Because I know magic? And me, a woman who stays far away from the village and minds my own business, who only attacked when threatened? Yes, whoever in the world was in the right?" She throws her arms up in the air in exasperation. "But you are clearly not one of them, since you have no idea what is happening."
Lyvyne keeps her sharp eyes on the boy, who avoids looking at either her or the Kveldulf except for him rather critical glances. He instantly doesn't like them without even an exchange of words. The Witch says they're not a part of it but she doesn't fully believe it, the kid could become a part of that mob in an instant and her instincts are all waving red flags. She glances back at Desmond, her hands still holding his. She wonders if he feels that same uneasiness, perhaps he knows this one too?
|
|
Bip
New Member
Trying to ignore the fact im bored mwahahaha...no?
Posts: 14
|
Gate
Jul 19, 2017 18:37:20 GMT
Post by Bip on Jul 19, 2017 18:37:20 GMT
Cameron looked at the witch. "Tch. Well, I am glad that at least I try doing something about my life." Hinting that Lucia had no attempt to change her life. I mean all she seems to do is sit in her hut all day brewing potions! Atleast I get up and about and do stuff even how little it is! I don't sit at home and pout about my father's ways!
|
|
Bip
New Member
Trying to ignore the fact im bored mwahahaha...no?
Posts: 14
|
Gate
Jul 19, 2017 18:38:27 GMT
Post by Bip on Jul 19, 2017 18:38:27 GMT
(thanks)
|
|
|
Gate
Jul 21, 2017 15:20:13 GMT
Post by Raz on Jul 21, 2017 15:20:13 GMT
Desmond gives a light shake of his head at Lyvyne's question. While Desmond would be considered as an adult he was truly just a boy. A scared boy who'd just saw his entire world be swept out from under him. Smiling faces of friends and family that he'd known since he was a child evaporate before his eyes. These haunting faces were replaced with mauled and evicerated corpses. Very rapidly everyone he'd ever known was being torn away from him or were pushing him away. The harder he clung to them the more likely that something would take them away. Soon enough all of them will be gone and he'll be left alone in the dark with their blood on his hands. His delicate psyche was barely withstanding the trauma of his father's passing as it is. Yet the world wasn't done with him. He'd been forced to listen to more family, more friends he slaughtered in the village while he had lain there bleeding. Now he had to listen to it again. He had no choice but to listen to the screams, the gnashing teeth, the sound of flesh being rended by claws. He had been too weak to even lift his hands to cover his ears. So he listened, he listened until none could be heard from outside but the crunching of leaves and twigs as the Kveldulf returned. They had walked inside as though they were some kind of demon stepping out of a portal connected directly to hell. Their coats were now stained and matted with the blood of the villagers. Even in his weakened state he kept his eyes on the Kveldulf. Only after his treatment and a rush of vitality courses through him does he look away. Even this though is due to Lyvyne.
Again he shakes his head, the light brown hair swaying as he moves. "No, not okay." He says trying to use some of the words that she knows. "You have clan. I lose my clan." He said gesturing to the slaughter just beyond the walls. "I.." He wasn't completely certain if it had been all of them but he knew even more of his people had just been killed. A ragged heartbroken sigh escapes his lips. "You will leave me too.. You get message from Thomas and then gone. Then I'll be...alone." He had no home to go back to, no family left to speak of, no Earthly possessions of any importance. He'll truly have nothing and no one when Ly leaves. Yet something strange happens as he begins to lose himself in thought. Two men approach, one an adult and one around Desmond's age. "Who are you two?" He asks, the boy's face rang of familiarity but he couldn't place him
|
|
|
Gate
Jul 21, 2017 18:25:03 GMT
Post by Shift on Jul 21, 2017 18:25:03 GMT
Dorian listened to Cameron speak, noticing the ego straight away. As Cameron turned torwards him, Dorian responded saying, "I expected that. Many mercenaries travel through multiple villages looking for jobs". He didn't ask what kind of experiences, since he doesn't seem like the kind of person who'd give that kind of information straight away. He listened to the witch speak, first of Cameron, then him. Looks like he has quite a reputation for being cocky. He then listened to the criticism she had for his reasoning skills. Dorian looked at the boy inside the hut, who seemed a little weak. He probably came her to get healed.
"As I've said before, I'm Dorian. I'm a mercenary, as you could most likely tell. The reason I'm here is because my previous job was ambushed by bandits from a nearby rumored camp. The merchant and horse were killed, leaving me with no transportation. I decided to come to the village near here, looking to restock my supplies and possibly get another job. Then I came across the mob... and here we are!" He said, motioning around them as he spoke the last word.
|
|
|
Gate
Aug 6, 2017 14:13:03 GMT
via mobile
Post by DodoDestroyer on Aug 6, 2017 14:13:03 GMT
Lyvyne feels terrible with the pain Desmond is currently going through. He lost his father, friend betrayed him and he has no idea of his remaining family's current situation. If she leaves, then he is correct and truly alone... She has to make contact with his mother or sister, find out if they're alive and let them know that he is alive as well. Her mind goes to his mother, the kindhearted woman that took the Avalon in without so much as a second thought. She must believe that her son has fallen under the same fate as her husband. If the worst is true and his family is... Gone... She won't leave Desmond, he has nothing here left for him except her but she cannot leave the clan, so she will take him with her. They are extremely cautious of humans but open minded and once her father hears that he is the one that saved her life, they will see Desmond as an honourable man. She then thinks of the aftermath of the rebellion. The people who have died, lives that have been ruined. This whole conflict and chaos has happened because her presence, a foreign species amongst their ranks. It makes her wonder if things would be better for them if she didn't survive the crash so many months ago or simply left after being healed. Maybe lives wouldn't be needlessly lost and the peace would be kept. Her thoughts cannot be put into words. At least, words that her friend can understand. She remains silent, looking at a loss of what to do.
The Witch however, seems to know exactly what to say in this situation. She is not gentle about it. "Oh will you stop feeling so sorry for yourself?" She says, diverting her barbed tone towards the injured man. "The situation is terrible. Lives have been lost, people are recklessly running around like rabid animals. It is only a matter of time before they begin turning against one another or doing their own thing to benefit themselves, like stealing and raping." She crouches down next to Desmond close, so he can do nothing but listen to her words. Lyvyne is surprised by these harsh words and is on the verge of stepping in and stopping the verbal assault, but something is holding her back. She doesn't feel like it's her place to stop her, being as she saved two lives and they're under her roof. Again, she is at a loss. "Think very hard, Desmond. People were organised, they already seem to have leader figures and the tools and strategies to take control. Do you think this could have been done overnight? No, it was planned for awhile now and instigated by the ones who had the dangerous thought of viewing everything that isn't human as a monster. That one thought spread like wildfire to half of the villagers and are following in fear of these monsters. They stopped seeing reason once the ring leader put that seed into their minds and became like a feral pack of animals." The words aren't venomous or malicious, but telling a truth that nobody would want to hear willingly. "Think about it. This rebellion was coming inevitably, they would slaughter your Avalon and anybody who stood in their way including your family. They are not your people anymore, they haven't been for awhile and planned to betray their own. They are your enemies and those who are unsure will either turn into the same monsters are the rebels or be executed without mercy for made up reasons that they are monster lovers. You have a choice, Desmond. Continue to sulk and cry while the corruption wins, or snap out of it and help those who are truly at risk; the ones caught in the middle."
Lyvyne has had enough of this abuse. She grabs the arm of Lucia to pull her away, but quickly and aggressively shook off. "You have no need to manhandle me, Avalon! I am done with what I have to say. I have told him what he is failing or refusing to understand. What happens next is up to him." She walks away from the bed focuses her attention on the outside, alert for anymore rebels that come to see what has happened to their little strike squad.
|
|
|
Gate
Aug 6, 2017 15:33:57 GMT
Post by Raz on Aug 6, 2017 15:33:57 GMT
The sickening feeling of loss that had begun to take root in Desmond's belly began to twist itself into something new when Lucia approached. That loss transformed into a molten ball of fury. This Witch dares to sit there and lecture him like he was a child. His blood boiled in his veins and his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles had gone white. His teeth gritted together until he thought they'd break. Yet when she steps away it's like a plug being pulled from a bathtub. His rage falls away leaving him feeling numb. How could she even begin to understand what was going through his head right now? The only person she's ever lost was her mother. The only people she's ever cared for have been her mother and herself. He shook his head slowly. "You don't understand. They may have done evil things but they are still my people. I've lived my whole life among them, I can't just discard all of it instantly. I appreciate you saving my life and keeping my friend safe. But as soon as I'm able I'll be on my way. You're likely to die here when they come for you again if you don't flee soon." He puts his hand on Lyvyne's arm and shakes his head as she tries to stop her. "Don't." He sighed, "We'll set out tomorrow morning. You'll return to your clan, the wolfmen will go wherever they like, and I suppose I'll head to London."
|
|
|
Gate
Aug 6, 2017 18:13:44 GMT
via mobile
Post by DodoDestroyer on Aug 6, 2017 18:13:44 GMT
"If that is what you think, then there is nothing else to say to you. Good luck, I hear through merchants and travellers that an extremely mad and dangerous Alchemist is passing through for business. Do have fun." Lucia says sarcastically. This is her home, she will not be driven out. If that leads to her death then so be it. Being forced to leave with nothing but her skills sounds just as dangerous as this... So she puts her quiver on her back and as her bow ready. "I for one, am not running away when things get bleak. If I die, then I will die ridding the world of a few madmen." With those words, she takes her leave outside of the Hut to keep watch for anymore rebels. Her eyes say she is not stupid or crazy about her decision. Stubborn, yes. But there is another thing in there; commitment. She does not want to be driven out.
Lyvyne listens to Desmond's words with all seriousness... He will not like her answer, she has decided. "No." The single word has everybody in the small building looking at her. "Cannot leave. Thomas has dishonoured me... Dishonoured you... Dishonoured family.... Cannot leave... Until he is dead." She says with fierce determination, one that is dark. The young Avalon shows the attitude of an Avalon looking for justice. She does not want to hear Desmond's protests to this, she has decided. She leaves the Hut as well to help Lucia guard the area. She does not hold a grudge against her human friend and his decision for leaving. On the contrary, she is relieved. She knows he will be away from the conflict and no longer be harmed... She cannot bear seeing him die as well, or put him through the trauma of her dying if that is how this all ends for her.
|
|
jackygirl
Red Card
My milkshakes bring all the girls to my dungeon
Posts: 704
|
Gate
Aug 6, 2017 18:50:21 GMT
Post by jackygirl on Aug 6, 2017 18:50:21 GMT
(Sorry I fell behind Caught up now) Cliff crouched down beside the human while Claw and Fang followed the Alchemist outside, Big-Back was still asleep after being treated. The other Kvelduf were in the barn preparing their weapons and hopefully not eating the meat. "You are her pack-mate; yes, no?" He said in the broken English he'd managed to glean from One-Eye gesturing after Lyvne. "She... stay behind when human and pack meet to protect human. If human not do the same then human deserve die." He nodded and then simply walked away going into the barn. His Helldivers were checking their weapons and stretchering their bodies to prepare for the fight. He walked among them pointing out chips or bluntness. "We may have to fight our way out of this forest." He told Long-Arms who nodded. "Poorly trained and poorly equipped, no match for Kveldulf fighters no wonder the Ankari conquered their world." He grunted. "One-Eye was strong... for a non-Kveldulf maybe their true warriors are better." She shrugged and went back to sharpening her arrow heads. Claw and Fang sat a short distance from Lucia trying and failing to subtly stare at her. Technically now that Big-Back was treated they didn't need to protect her but the twins hadn't received any other orders and they certainly didn't mind watching her. "Fighter." Fang pointed out and Cliff nodded. "Healer to, good mix." They were speaking in Kveldulf assuming she wouldn't understand them. They crouched on their haunches sniffing the air in case of further attackers.
|
|
|
Gate
Aug 6, 2017 20:52:49 GMT
Post by DodoDestroyer on Aug 6, 2017 20:52:49 GMT
Lucia hasn't heard or understand much of the Kveldulf language, but just enough to understand that they're speaking about strategy by their tone. Before taking a tactical position, the Witch puts two fingers into her mouth and creates a two toned, high pitch whistle. A strange sound, but not to Lyvyne as she watches her make it. It's a calling sound... A few seconds later, a bizarre and feathered creature glides down from the trees and lands upon her shoulder, perched like a bird. It is semi-large, the size of a fully grown eagle but as a reptilian posture and structure despite the feathers cover it's body and wings on the arms of it. To a human, it looks like a Microraptor from the prehistoric age but to Lyvyne and the Kveldulf, it is a Kerboa. Nasty bird and reptile hybrids from beyond the gates. Agile and intelligent, capable of stealth and gliding with a venomous bite. By the way it responds Lucia and rubs it's neck against her own, they share a strong bond. The trills and calls it makes sound nothing like a human would hear, but the Witch seems to understand these. "I believe their will be trouble, yes. Be ready, Jesse." She tells the creature before taking out more powder and rubbing it onto the feathers of the Kerboa, it shakes and shudders until it spreads to the whole body. With one last trill, it jumps off of her shoulder and into the trees, the Witch's thoughts become known to the others as the feathered creatures gradually disappears to the naked eye. An invisibility spell.
Lyvyne watches the small Kerboa with awe. Avalon view them as a distant relative of their people. Perhaps an ancestor of sorts and share a mutual respect for one another. She shows more respect for the Witch too for taming such a stubborn and volatile creature, Kerboa usually only obey the strong willed. "Also you can stop your lustful staring, Kveldulf. I will be no mate of yours." Lucia says a bit snippy to them without looking and without another word to say, she deftly climbs into a separate tree from her pet and hides as well. Lyvyne looks up into the air, wondering if she should scout from the skies or if that is too risky... But she senses another attack will come soon, she looks to the Kveldulf. "Surprise them." She says in human with a small smile. "Stay hidden... We have advantage..."
|
|
|
Gate
Aug 6, 2017 21:28:15 GMT
Post by Shift on Aug 6, 2017 21:28:15 GMT
Dorian watched and listened, not exactly sure as to what he should do. He watched in awe as the witch called to an odd bird-reptile creature which he had never seen before, and even more as the fierce looking creature seemed friendly torwards her. They were planning defenses for another attack. "I'll help as well," he said to no one in particular, as he went to a nearby cluster of foliage, crouching down and drawing his sword silently. His form was hidden well, requiring one to inspect rather closely to find out, and by then they would've been ambushed already. He waited, peering out of the bushes to await the nearing atackers.
|
|
jackygirl
Red Card
My milkshakes bring all the girls to my dungeon
Posts: 704
|
Gate
Aug 7, 2017 14:20:09 GMT
Post by jackygirl on Aug 7, 2017 14:20:09 GMT
Claw and Fan watch the Kerboa almost as hungrily as they watch Lucia but for a different reason. Kerboa were considered delicacies among the Kveldulf if you could catch them... which was next to impossible. Fang grins. "How could we not stare at such beautiful female?" He asks in decent English. Claw smirks. "And why so quick to turn us down? You haven't even got to know us yet..." He growled softly more seductive then threatening. "If you're already taken we'd be more then willing to fight him!" Fang interjected. "Though I don't see many males around here." Claw pointed out.
|
|
|
Gate
Aug 7, 2017 14:36:00 GMT
via mobile
Post by DodoDestroyer on Aug 7, 2017 14:36:00 GMT
Lucia has to try really hard to not roll her eyes at the painful attempts of charm to woo her. She is sitting on a thick tree branch that is capable of holding double her weight and feels comfortable relaxing a little on it by leaning her back on the Base of the tree with one leg crossed over the other. Her posture is lax, but the firm grip that her slender fingers have on the bow and arrow shows she is still alert. "I know you well enough that you seek to lay with me, and you are looking to charm your way to that goal." She says with a stone cold tone, her eyes are focused ahead for any signs of disturbance.
"Yes I am a woman, so that means I must find a suitor, no?" She says sarcastically. "I don't need to rely on another to take care of me. My mother taught me that much." She then side glances the pair. "Besides, I decide when I want to have sex. Not you." She smirks just for a half second, enjoying how the two hot blooded, riled up Wolf Folk are practically drooling over her like she is mutton chops. It's amusingly pathetic really, she could tell him to jump and they will jump if it means in their head that they're getting closer towards the access of her body. She should test to see how far they will go sometime later... If they survive.
|
|
|
Gate
Aug 7, 2017 15:29:59 GMT
Post by Raz on Aug 7, 2017 15:29:59 GMT
So this is it eh? They won't leave and I can't leave without them. That only leaves me with one option. I'm going to have watch them slaughter everyone I've ever known because of Lyvyne's honor. If the rebels killed the Witch or the Kveldulf I wouldn't be bothered as bad as that sounds. But I can't let that stupid bird risk her life without me. Desmond's thoughts were black. He didn't have a choice in the matter, he had to go with them.
The door to the hut creaks open and the shambling figure of Desmond steps into view. One hand was keeping himself supported against the wooden doorframe while the other clutches the still healing wound. His face was pale and he had beads of sweat dotting his forehead. He pushed himself the doorframe and onto the damp stained ground outside. His stomach does a summersault when he sees the mangled and torn bodies of people he used to know. Their entrails scattered all over the ground like so much confetti. His eyes stare in horror but with a force of will he swallows back the bile that had threatened to coat the ground. He says nothing. His legs mechanically keep him moving towards the target of his thoughts. Briefly his eyes flick to the creature that has so completely grabbed their attention. An interesting creature, one he'd ask about at nauseum. But right now it hardly held more importance than the rock by his boot. He can feel eyes on him as he moves to stand beside Lyvyne. His voice is practically a whisper on the wind when he does speak. "I'm going with you." His eyes are a tempest of colliding emotions. Many of them painful. His eyes had glanced at the Kveldulf and the bodies and even the flying creature. But not once does he even begin to look at Lucia.
|
|
jackygirl
Red Card
My milkshakes bring all the girls to my dungeon
Posts: 704
|
Gate
Aug 29, 2017 19:45:50 GMT
Post by jackygirl on Aug 29, 2017 19:45:50 GMT
Claw and Fang chuckled. "Take care of you?" Claw asked. "Why does being female mean we would take care of you? Long-Arms has killed many enemies and is the finest hunter in the pack." "Females should fight as hard as males." Fang added with a nod of agreement. "But a pack is always helpful... for many things." He said with a grin. They whined and pouted. "Fine..." Claw sighed. "We will kill many enemies for you!" Fang barked.
In the barn Cliff had finished getting his Helldivers ready. "Spread out!" He howled. "We hold the perimeter until Big-Back can be moved!" The ten Kveldulf spread out into the surrounding forest ready and eager for battle.
|
|
|
Gate
Aug 29, 2017 20:15:34 GMT
Post by DodoDestroyer on Aug 29, 2017 20:15:34 GMT
Lyvyne smiles at her friend who has joined her, but it is a smile of concern. He is weakened from the knife wound inflicted upon him earlier and the witch mentioned that it will take time for him to recover back into full strength, even if his life is no longer on the line... and these people that will come for them were once his fellow neighbours and friends... his clan. She never thought about it until now, her mind was too focused on keeping him alive and safe... suddenly the Avalon feels a selfish guilt. The damage on his emotions must be staggering, even more so if he is going to witness this all over again... unless... Lyvyne has thought of an idea. She is unsure if it will work, but it is worth the try... for Desmond's sake.
"Talk to them... Show them... We are defending." She says to him in broken English, as clear as she can. "Too much death... No more... Must try to make peace." She explains to him. She viewed most of the village as she would her own clan. Previously, she was blinded by the rage of being treated like cattle for what she has done for them and how they dared to harm and kill those closest to her. Now, her eyes display sorrow for those that have been lost. Not all are extreme as Thomas and his most trusted lackeys. They are scared and confused. They witnessed an Avalon on their brutal side which is a very frightful thing. But Desmond is an innocent in the crossfire, just like his father was... "They are your people... Think you are dead... Show them... you are well... your family..." she is reluctant to continue... Neither of them know their fate, and mentioning it now could be too soon. She returns her a determined look. "We make peace."
"Because that doesn't sound like a death sentence." Lucia calls from the trees, rolling her eyes at their obviously stupid plan. "Look around. There's bodies that are clearly torn apart by the Kveldulf. They won't believe that you want to make peace when you are surrounded by the dead. You are basically calling yourself a pacifist with blood on your hands." She moves off of the tree branch and lands flawlessly on the grass with a bended knee. "Besides... I doubt they're coming back. They believe they driven the meta-humans away and killed me. What is left to do? I can almost promise you this group what going to head into the city after accomplishing their task here. Their equipment shows they are prepared for travel on foot. Long distance." The Witch makes very good observations and her prediction seems pretty solid. She's the type of woman to not make such a theory lightly and her word is well advised. With a whistle, her Kerboa return to her shoulder, shaking the powder off of it's feathers and disabling the invisibility. It makes a strange trill that Lucia seems to understand. "The villagers are moving out, backing up my point. Just should just rest now."
She makes her way back towards her home with the Kerboa sitting comfortably on it's perch. She looks at the injured villager, seeing the empty void inside his eyes. She feels the need to say something. "Desmond." She says rather softly while side glancing him. "For what it is worth, I am sorry for what has happened to your home." The words sound genuine, but it can never be for certain with the Witch. She is as unpredictable as they come. To further prove that, her tone suddenly becomes dry and sardonic. "Now will you quit it with the melodramatic hero act? It does not suit you, especially in such poor health." The critical snark also hints towards his wound and how it has yet to regenerate. Care for his health? Trying to snap him out of his stubbornness? Who knows...
|
|
|
Gate
Sept 20, 2017 16:01:38 GMT
Post by Raz on Sept 20, 2017 16:01:38 GMT
The young man that was Desmond stares out onto the carnage without expression. His eyes slide along the mangled corpse of a woman he had known since he had been a boy. She was older than him by about six years. She had long golden locks that made the boys of the village swoon when she looked their way. She had played with him by the stream when they were young. Desmond had thought she was cute, even had planned to ask her to be his partner for the Summer Solstice festival this year. He could remember how she used to tease him about his voice cracking when he had hit puberty. He could still picture the way that her lips would quirk when she would smile and the way that the sun would bring out her freckles. Now he was staring at her corpse. Her golden hair was dirtied with mud and blood. It had been partially torn out with bits of flesh still clinging to the clumps that were near her body. Her once beautiful face was twisted in an agonized scream that she made until her dying breathe. He could hear her screams from inside the hut as well as the sickening wet popping sound as her lower torso was torn in twain. Her bloodied intestines were streaming out of her like she had been made of straw. Under her nails was scraps of brown fur and skin. "So a Kveldulf had killed her." He thought without a twinge of emotion. He felt numb, as though all this was happening far away to someone else and he was just watching it through their eyes. Her name had been Cathy. "Goodbye Cathy." He thought before slowly looking to another corpse that held a bloody knife. "Goodbye Henry." Tom, James, Lisa, the list just goes on and on as he looks to the mangled and ruined bodies of the people he had known all his life. This was his fault he knew. Had he just left her to die, none of this would've happened. No good deed goes unpunished it would seem. It was strange, the madness of it all made him want to laugh. Here he was surrounded by familiar faces yet he was the one who was alive while they'd never see tomorrow.
When Lucia speaks Desmond doesn't make any sign of having heard her. It was as though she was speaking to an empty room. Her words merely bounced off of him without any effect. He had heard her call his name but he remained staring at the lifeless bodies of his friends and neighbors. Then she had begun to console him it seemed. Why? She had already made clear she cared not for him. What point was there in offering him false apologies after she had killed his loved ones? Did she really think that he cared about the apology of the witch who'd murdered his friends? Regardless, it did nothing to console him. Then as expected as the rising of the sun her tone switches to that of rude and sarcastic witch he had known for their brief encounter. When she ends her series of biting remarks intended to spur him into action he looks at her. As slow as a glacier moving across the tundra he turns his gaze to her. She may have expected anger or sadness or even insanity in his eyes but there's nothing. His eyes stare into her own, no, the wounded young man seems to stare through her. He doesn't say a word to the witch, merely stares at her. Then with the same emotionless gaze he turns to the hut and starts his walk in silence. His footfalls are rather loud in the quiet stillness of the clearing. He navigates through the corpses without a word. He stops momentarily to look at each of the Kveldulf. "Monsters, all of them." He concluded with a thought. His eyes lock with Cliff for just a moment and Desmond has the odd sense that he will have to kill him at some point. The pain of his wound felt like a dull ache that was one of the few things that kept him believing that all of this was even real. He turned his head back to the hut and walked inside. He walked over to the wall and sat down. His eyes focusing on an undetermined spot on the wooden floorboards.
|
|
|
Gate
Sept 21, 2017 14:20:04 GMT
via mobile
Post by DodoDestroyer on Sept 21, 2017 14:20:04 GMT
Lyvyne watches Desmond walk like a hollow back into the Hut and disappear out of sight. He... Doesn't seem like the human she called a friend anymore. He seems... Broken, empty. She can't help but feel again that maybe if he never found her in the forest those months ago, he would still have his father and everyone else would be alive and well. That overbearing guilt weighs heavily on the Avalon, her shoulders slump in depression that he didn't even glance at her. Can he not bear to look at her anymore? Is she now a monster in his eyes, just as the villagers proclaimed she was? A troubling wave of thoughts swim around in her head, making a whole mess of her mind and cannot focus on a single one of them... She feels it would be best to stay out of his sight now and keep watch as the sun begins to set, dusk taking over. The only sound that Lyvyne makes is her wings flapping against the winds that send her into the air and out of sight of anybody.
Lucia sees Desmond enter the Hut shortly after she did. Good, he listened to her for once... Though she raises an eyebrow when he stared with an empty look in his eyes just moments ago... It's as bad as she thought it would be. Then again how can she blame him? These were his people. While the Witch may have ever experienced what it is like to be a part of a community, she has observed the village from time to time to realise that is was an important thing that held everybody together. In her heart however, trying to find any sort of emotion relating to that is nigh impossible. She has never interacted with anybody but her mother for most of her life, the only feeling that could be in close relation is when her mother passed. Even then, the sorrow past quickly... Though she has reason to pursue him in this situation and using the excuse of changing his bandages into fresh ones, so she moves over to him with the supplies after a few short seconds.
She sits on her knees and wastes no time in lifting his shirt to his chest and begins to unwrap the now red bandages she applied before. The potion's effects are working just fine. The bleeding is swiftly slowing down and the wound is regenerating strands of flesh to sew itself back into what it previously once was. His psyche however, it's in severe condition. She has no experience in fixing that kind of wound... An eerie silence passes as she begins to wrap his torso. He hasn't spoken a word or even reacted to her touch on the cut, the only indication that he is still alive is the rise and fall of his breathing... Lucia normally cherishes the silence, but even this is bugging her. "Nothing to say now? I thought you had an answer to everything I would retort at you... A shame, I enjoyed our back and forth." The words never meant to sound snarky at all, but in a neutral manner and almost trying to spark a conversation out of him. However, her lack of social skills shows. Her face and tone are emotionless as she speaks which makes the statement come across as unintentionally snide.
|
|
|
Gate
Sept 21, 2017 15:50:57 GMT
Post by Raz on Sept 21, 2017 15:50:57 GMT
How long did he sit staring at the floor? He didn't know, he was barely even aware of his surroundings. Desmond had retreated into the dark recesses of his own mind, into a place where he couldn't be hurt anymore. During this time his body seemingly had gone catatonic. His eyes stared without purpose at the cracks in the floor. He simply did not wish to exist any longer in this horrible place. Vaguely he was aware of the fabric of his hunting tunic being lifted up and his wound examined. Whether it was by Lyvyne, Lucia, or a Kveldulf he did not know, nor did he care for that matter. Desmond just wanted to be left alone and whoever this was did not appear to be respecting his wishes. But what does it matter? There wasn't anything they could do to hurt him at this point that they haven't already done. A thought crossed his mind while the unknown individual examined him. "Am I going crazy?" He thought with the oddest sense of clarity. He was neither frightened or angry, emotions he should be feeling right now. All he felt was an overwhelming sense of numbness. It was as though he had been laying on ice for too long. An arm passes through his vision and begins unwrapping pink strips from his midsection. The arm was smooth and held the same peach color of his own skin. That must mean that it was Lucia who was tending to him. He rather would have wanted that it was Lyvyne instead. Lucia is cruel and greedy witch that only looks out for herself. What will it be that she wants this time? Perhaps his soul or whatever his most prized possession may be? She could have both for all that he cared. If he could go back in time for just a minute this all could've been avoided. If he had not found Lyvyne, not ran from the wolves, noticed the evil that Thomas had planned. If he could do any of that, then the people outside wouldn't be dead, his father wouldn't be dead. all of this was his fault. He blinked slowly and murmured, "maybe I'll die soon. Then I can apologize to them..." His words have no emotion to them. They're just flat, lifeless sounds of a broken man.
Lucia began to speak in that flat, even voice of hers.. He heard the words though they held no meaning to him. It was as though his comprehension of language had ceased. He could hear his father saying to him that it's important to look at people when they're talking to you. He's unsure why that memory was so prominent in his thoughts but he did as his father had once advised. Desmond looked up at her slowly. Her lips moved and more words fell out but he wasn't able to understand these words either. Instead of understanding her he felt something else begin to bubble up in him as he was brought back to reality. His brows scrunched together as his eyes examined her features as she worked. This was the woman who was going to happily let him bleed to death on her table because she didn't want to waste a healing bottle. There was a twitch in his right hand, something hot and destructive was quickly coming to the forefront of his mind. Lucia was the one who always had a biting remark directed at him and his people. The twitch in his hand had turned into a tremor and had spread to his left hand now. A dark angry voice was whispering in his ear that she and the Kveldulf delighted in killing his friends. That all their kind was bred to do was destroy the lives of others. Warmth returns to his body in the form of a comforting rage that he welcomes with open arms. The corners of his eyes begin to twitch as the trembling gets worse. "You..." The boy seethed through clenched teeth, his once empty eyes are now filled with vivid flames. His thoughts was now ablaze with the image of the Kveldulf lying in a pool of their own blood while Lucia screamed as her hut burned around her. "Killed them." He says with disbelief. "You killed them. You killed my friends." The sounds of tearing flesh and screaming villagers fill his ears while the smell of blood, piss, and rot fill his nose. For a moment she looks as though every inch of her body is dripping in the blood of his family and friends. "You killed them!" He said with rising anger. "You killed them!!!" He shouted at her now as he swings his fist at her. His right hands connects with her jaw hard enough for her to see stars. He pounced on her, slamming her down onto the floor, "YOU KILLED THEM!!!" He all but screams at her as he brings his left fist down on her face, her nose breaking on impact. Blood was starting to run down her cheek from the split skin of her nose.
|
|
|
Gate
Sept 21, 2017 16:09:21 GMT
Post by Shift on Sept 21, 2017 16:09:21 GMT
Dorian stood, silently watching the events that transpired. It seems Desmond, he recalls his name was, had lost all the life in his eyes. He looked as though he were a corpse going through the motions. He walked into the house, not making a sound to not disturb Desmond's oddly intense stare at the floor. He understood that face well, it was the face of a man who had lost many things. He bit his lip as He thought if something to say to console him, but he noticed that the witches words merely passed through him to no avail.
He stepped closer, opening his mouth to speak, before noticing the tremors in both of his hands. He closed his mouth, and took a step back, ready to do console him, before hearing his voice. He was clearly angry, that much was obvious. What he'd do next isn't. He reached his hand out for Desmond's shoulder, but stopped once he moved to punch Lucia. Dorian's face hardened as he tried to stop it, unfortunately to no avail. Desmond had acted to suddenly and unexpectedly to anticipate.
He yelled, "Stop! Desmond, think!", as he moved to grab Desmonds shoulder as he pounced on Lucia and punched her in the nose. He tried to restrain him, grabbing his shoulder and arm and pulling away from Lucia, hard enough to be difficult to get out of but not enough to cause any serious damage. "Fighting won't solve anything, so calm down!" He yelled at him, his strength and experience giving him the edge. Hopefully his words would go through to him, Lucia's injuries are bad, and more fighting won't help that.
|
|
|
Gate
Sept 21, 2017 17:29:10 GMT
via mobile
Post by DodoDestroyer on Sept 21, 2017 17:29:10 GMT
Lucia looks intently at Desmond as he speaks, accusing her of killing them. Again, he fails to understand that those who came to her doorstep signed their own death certificates. She gave them ample warning and she did not tell the Kveldulf to defend her. Hell, she actually expected to die there and then. But alas, he will not listen so that is not the point... Her thought is suddenly interrupted however, when an impact hits her Jaw. The surprise of the hit and the force within it is enough to send her kneeling position to fall to the floor. She stops her face from smacking against the wood with her elbows, hood thrown off of her head and she can taste a metallic taste where her teeth scraped and cut the inside of her cheek. Despite this, she makes no sound of pain. In fact, the feeling sends a wave of nostalgia. Her mother used to beat her the same way whenever she screwed up somehow or hell, if she dared to speak back to her when she was a little girl. While he hits hard than her, it is still the same situation. Bringing back memories of those times, neither pleasant nor unpleasant. Just... Familiar. When he pounces on top of her, she makes no attempt to resist. Her face is blank. A normal person would fight back, hold their arms in front of their face to shield themselves... Not the Witch. She is allowing him to vent his frustration on her for unknown reasons.
The second punch is more harder, causing her to wince in reflex as her head to sent the left. She feels her nose break, a warm flow of blood running down where the skin has broken through. Yet still, no sound from her. No resistence. She is enduring the pain, just like before when she was punished by her mother. She wasn't this harsh... But it still hurt as much. She should at least yelp in pain, react in some way. But that would escalate his anger wouldn't it? Give him more reason to wail on her. She then feels the weight of the angered young man lifted from her hips where he was straddling on top of her. She glances to see that the mercenary has come to her aid, pulling him away and trying to talk him down... This is slightly surreal, nobody has ever helped her out before. The act of chivalry is unknown to her. Is that what kindness is? How it feels to be protected? All these new feelings and experiences definitely carry a sense of unknown...
Lucia doesn't speak, does not make any attempt to deliver the same punishment back. By God everybody present in the area knows she could kill him with some powder and a simple thought... So what is stopping her? She should at least hurt him in return like he has done to the Witch. Instead, she just sits up and props herself on her arms. Long black hair hangs in front of her face and hiding whatever expression she is making. Blood from the wound drips from her face and onto her thigh while swallowing the metallic taste from her cut cheek down. She doesn't want to spit on the floor, it's a mess already as it is... Thinking about cleanliness over the violent man that has an intent to deal more harm. The woman is a strange one.
|
|
|
Gate
Sept 21, 2017 18:27:47 GMT
Post by Raz on Sept 21, 2017 18:27:47 GMT
The satisfaction of that first strike was only matched by the snapping sound her nose made when he hit her again. It was one of the only things he knew was perfectly right. Lucia was a monster, she deserved everything she got. Yet with his second strike he felt a pang of the emptiness inside him. Why isn't she fighting back? Why hasn't she tried to kill him?! The more she sits and takes his punishment the more furious he gets. "Fight back you fucking monster!" He snarled in the Witch's face. Spittle flys from his mouth onto her as his eyes burn with hatred. He raised his fist again and was ready to bring it down once more. Blood flecked his knuckles from the Witch's broken nose. "Fight back damn you!!" Just as he was about to bring his fist down onto her broken nose a strong arm pulls him away from the girl. This only throws him into more of a frenzy. "Let me go!" He shouts at the top of his lungs. His legs lash out at the man that was keeping him restrained. "She killed my friends, my family! She's a fucking monster!" He screams at the man holding him back. He wanted her to get up and strike him down, to release him from this hell he's found himself in and yet she does not. All she does is sit up and stare at him. This does nothing but infuriate him, "Get up for chists sakes! You were perfectly willing to kill the people outside! So why not me?!" He demands with tears filling his eyes. His voice wavers slightly as he shouts at her. "Why won't you kill me? Why can you and the fucking wolves kill my friends but not me? You've taken everything from me! So why?" Tears are starting to roll down his cheeks as his anger begins to be overwhelmed by his despair. "Why won't you kill me? Why do I have to live and suffer when everyone I love is dead?" He looked her dead in the eyes as the man held him still, "kill me." He snarls with tear drops falling from his chin.
|
|
|
Gate
Sept 21, 2017 18:57:54 GMT
via mobile
Post by DodoDestroyer on Sept 21, 2017 18:57:54 GMT
Lucia reacts to none of his words, the words of a madman fueled by rage and hatred for every cell that maintains her existence. To others in her position, his pleading for death is very tempting whether it would be out of anger or pity. Not for the Witch. It's so easy to punish somebody who would justify his actions by proving his accusations true. When somebody does nothing however, they are turning the tables. Proving them wrong in that accusation. This further angers that person. They do not want to be proven wrong when they are so committed to it. It's the only thing they hold onto. This reason however, is not why Lucia is being uresponsive. Perhaps the reason why is a mystery even to her, but no urge to kill him nor deny him his request out of sadistic means crosses her mind...
She moves her hair out of her face and behind her shoulders. Her Jaw is raw red and beginning to fill with colour of a fresh bruise. Her cheek is stained and smeared with a trail of blood leaking from the broken nose, droplets are breaking away from her chin and landing on her thigh, which is beginning to leave circles of the fluid stained on her pants. Her expression is neither angry, fearful or upset. There is nothing upon apart from a glimpse of nostalgia from her mother's punishments. Her eyes however, express pity for Desmond. Pity that he was dealt the shit end of this situation and lost himself. That he was willing to beat the Witch to death and cry out 'monster' the whole time as he did it. She even doubts he would have felt guilt for this kill. The poor boy...
She then stands carefully to her feet... And reaches a hand into her powder pouch. She withdraws it with two fingers lightly coated in the substance. For a moment, it looks as if she is about to grant him his request. But her eyes betray that it is just not the case. She then smears the powder on her broken nose and with a small thought, the cut regenerates and a faint crunch of bones realign her nose back into its former shape. There is still a phantom feeling of the pain and her Jaw hurts like hell. "Would it make you feel better to unleash your rage upon me?" She asks with no snark or jeering. Her voice is dead serious about the question. "Would it improve the situation at hand if you beat me until I stopped breathing? Change the chain of events that have just unravelled?" There is no rise of anger in her voice, but actual curiosity. "Would it bring everybody back from the dead?..." The words are chilling and not in a sinister way. She is asking the questions that would probably swimming in his head if he finished her off.
"If you think so and provides you comfort, then so be it."
|
|
|
Gate
Sept 21, 2017 20:14:58 GMT
Post by Raz on Sept 21, 2017 20:14:58 GMT
Desmond seethes in silence as the witch stands up. He straightens up in the mercenary's hold with eyes fixed on Lucia. Every fiber of his being was wishing that she'll use her magics to end his life. Not even for the reason that it would validate his hatred for her. He just wanted the pain to stop. The young man simply could not take it any longer and Lucia was his way out. Whatever pain his death might involve it will surely be better than this. His eyes follow her hand as it reaches inside of her powder. His heart was pounding in his chest as he waited for her to destroy him. Yet...she does not use on him. His heart sinks as he watches her use the powder to repair the damage that'd been done to her nose. His shoulders slouch as the strength leaves them in Demond's disappointment. "Coward." He growled beneath his breath. The hatred he felt for her crystallized in his heart, she couldn't endure even the slightest of pain that he had given her while he must live with the pain she had given him. She would not grant him even the small mercy of death, instead forcing him to continue this hellish existence. Despite his hatred for her, the fight had gone out of him. His heart felt like it was being crushed by a heavy weight as the sadness he'd kept bottled up flows over him. Tears flow freely down his cheeks as he glares at her. He wasn't going to be striking the damnable creature any time soon. "No..." He muttered, "I'd kill you a million times over if it meant bringing back even one of them." He jerked free of the mercenary's grasp but did not make a move to attack "But no matter how much I want it to be different, taking your life won't change anything." As much as he hated to admit it, she was right.
|
|
|
Gate
Sept 21, 2017 20:41:08 GMT
via mobile
Post by DodoDestroyer on Sept 21, 2017 20:41:08 GMT
If he was expecting the Witch to be joyful at being correct, he is disappointed. Lucia's face remains unchanged as she hears Desmond admit the truth that she was showing to him. There's no smugness in being right, no feeling of victory that she made him see things in her way for once. There are no winners in this slaughter. It wouldn't make a difference if she did grant him what he asked anyway. The village would still be in chaos, the residents still be dead and hope would still be fleeting. His pain would end if his life was taken, but what would it accomplish? He probably wouldn't even be reunited with his family. Pain is not something to be weakened by. It is to be endured. To learn from.
This lecture would do him no good however. She can see the burning hatred in his eyes for her. He will wish for her to be snuffed out regardless of proving her point to him. There is no word or action she could do now for him... Not while this hate exists. His only hope now is the Avalon. The one that brought him here and remained by his side since she discovered the duo. Let us hope she has the will to walk down this path with him and guide his hand. "Truly. I am sorry for your loss." These words are completely different from any other the Witch has spoken. They are real. Personified. Spoken in raw truth. There is no slither of doubt this time, this cold woman does feel Empathy, even just a little. Not a monster in human form, but a human with emotion and feeling like Desmond. What made her heart so bitter? Caused her to close off from the world and push all away? She is a walking mystery...
"You need space." It's not a question, but a statement. She leaves her own home and leaves him alone with the mercenary and injured Kveldulf. She has changed the wolf's bandages so there's no need to keep watch over him for the night. Perhaps camping out with the rest of the Wolf pack is another option. Safety in numbers and Avalon has disappeared from sight. But she also needs some time of solace as well. The brutal attack brought back a wave of memories that are difficult to process. She needs to reflect for awhile and sits with her back against a tree to the side of her home. She closes her eyes, beginning to create order within her thoughts.
|
|
|
Gate
Sept 22, 2017 18:09:33 GMT
Post by Raz on Sept 22, 2017 18:09:33 GMT
His eyes narrowed as she offered the greatest lie of all, that she was sorry. What does this wretched witch know of being sorry? She hadn't felt sorry after nearly letting him or her fellow abomination die. The sharp taste of the word abomination took him by surprise, his furry and sadness was clouding his thoughts. He had surprised himself when he thought it. Lucia and the Kveldulf were cruel and evil creatures, this was without question. But Lyvyne wasn't, she was a kind and good person. She wasn't like them. His heart hardened as he stared down Lucia. Lyvyne was nothing like this monster standing before him. His eyes were filled with a volatile mix of hatred, agony, and growing defiance. His lips formed a hard line as he refused to say anything more to the girl, or perhaps more apt, the beast before him. For she was truly not that dissimilar from the wolf demons residing outside. His eyes followed her as she walked around him and left the building. When she had left and didn't appear to be returning, he felt as though all strength had left his body. His wound was throbbing more insistently now the shock and adrenaline had finally worn off. He walked over to the corner of the room and sat down. Demond pulled in his knees and wrapped his arms around them and stared into the gathering darkness as night fell. He paid no attention the the mercenary, his thoughts were elsewhere at the moment. Dark and ruthless thoughts were on the young man's mind and little could be done to assuage his anger. Which was to be expected, he's lost everything near and dear to him and he was surrounded by the people who'd taken these things.
The night brought with it the sounds of owls and crickets. It brought with it a chill that felt familiar to the former prisoners. But with it also came something else, something peculiar that could be felt in every tavern, home, and in the very air itself throughout the British isles. This peculiar feeling was the stillness before a storm. A storm that threatened to sweep away everything in its path. Inside a a hunters cabin to the north of the abandoned village resided the residents that had not been killed by the beastly creatures that the young boy had warned them about. Thomas Mosley sat quietly on a bench staring into the flames, to most of these people he had been a friend, a hunter from the south. Now he had killed one of their number and left another to die. Thomas hadn't wanted to do either of those things but he'd been given no choice. He could not say that their deaths didn't weigh on his heart for they did. But he'd grown used to setting aside such losses. When the war was won and humanity was free once more, then he will suffer whatever punishment that his people deemed reasonable. But not until that moment. The hut was filled with not only his rebels, but women and children. Most of which had eyes red from crying over their friends and family who died protecting the village. "They were heroes...all of them." He muttered quietly. His voice was uncharacteristically soft for the gruff rebel leader. He hadn't spoken since the village, so when he spoke now the room went deathly silent. All eyes were on him at this point. Harry, Desmond's old friend is leaning against the wooden doorframe, his heart had been heavy after what had happened to Desmond. He never thought that they'd kill his father or that he could kill his best friend. Harry hadn't meant to stab him he was just trying to keep him back... The way Desmond had writhed in the Earth with blood stain in his clothes had been playing in the young man's mind on repeat since they escaped the village.
Harry looked up to his leader as Thomas rose from his seat. The older man turned and looked at the crowd of rebels and their families, even James' family was there. Not a hair on their head had been harmed and he was determined to keep it that way. Thomas spoke to his assembled revolutionaries with a steady tone, "We have believed in ourselves as Englishmen and as people. We have believed in our fellow man and we have believed in the destiny of Humanity." Thomas stood there with his hands behind his back, his eyes going over each face in the crowd. "My fiends its all there. It's all waiting, of course our revolution can be done. It depends on ourselves. But you say: "But again we're scattered individuals. Everything is against us. Government, icilium, the Ankari, all are used against us. All the great forces, all the material powers of the world. You say are against you and so they are. You're quite right to feel that way. I don't underrate them but I don't despair. And you shouldn't despair either ." He says searching the faces of those gathered. "Because you like I, have read something of history. You know something of the record and the achievements of humanity. And as dark as this hour is its not darker, it's not as dark, as some of the hours you've known in human history." His voice began to rise as his voice grew impassioned, "Small bands of men must come together in resolution, in absolute determination. Giving themselves completely and saying: "Humanity shall live!" And stand firm in the face of the menace of humanity! It's values, its civilizations, the glory of its achievements, all those things are in mortal danger. They stand firm, they'll face it, they must come together and more and more will run it to their standards and those hordes will be thrown back! Again and again and again!" He was now shouting at the crowd who were watching in completely rapt amazement. "Our species lived in triumph because the will of mankind still endured!" He paused for a moment gauging the crowd, letting them absorb this before continuing. "We've got other forces against us. Not those particular forces but the power of Ankari sympathizers, the power of those people in positions of influence, all those things are against us. And how can you stop it? My friends by an act of will. An act of humanity's will. My friends, nothing has ever been done yet in this world except by the collective action of individuals coming together in faith, in belief, in will, and resolution. Then making their collective action, building parties and popular movements to do it. And that's what we have to do in the modern world. Defeat the Ankari and rouse this will of humanity to do what has to be done. Because it is the will of humanity, the will and the will alone which is needed in everything. If the British people decided tomorrow to do it, they could come together and make a British government, they could sort the world out. Will you stand with me? Will you seek victory with me?" He beseeched the crowd before raising his arm into the air, his hand flat. "Hail victory!" He cried and the response was deafening. "HAIL VICTORY!!" They cheered back to him, men and women stood with an arm outstretched.
Harry found himself with his arm outstretched shouting along with the crowd. This was why he had chosen to fight, for the future of his people, of his very species. The rebellions roots were growing thick in those it took hold of. They carried on into the night and marched at first light. Meanwhile Desmond was doused from his slumber by the light of the sun shining on him from an open window. Guess he should go find Lyvyne.
|
|
|
Gate
Sept 24, 2017 19:35:28 GMT
Post by DodoDestroyer on Sept 24, 2017 19:35:28 GMT
Lyvyne did not sleep for the night. Avalon's waking time is a slightly longer than humans but she is still feeling the fatigue. She felt it her duty to keep a good watch over those who needed the rest, but also the burden of thoughts plaguing her mind denied her a good night's rest. She still believes this is primarily be her fault. In the waking sun, she has not strayed too far from the location of the others, just further in the wilderness to a stream of water. She perches beside it, wing tightly folded behind her back, ready to take to the air at a moment's notice. Very cautious and very paranoid from the turn of recent events. Clawed fingers stroke through the crystal clear water, scattering the tiny school of fish in all directions that were spooked by the unexpected intrusion. Despite the peaceful moment, she still wears the stern expression of solemn thought.
----
Lucia has been long since awake. She kept a slight distance from the Kveldulf's camp but close enough for protection. She does not trust those wolf twins to respect her privacy while she rests. Luckily, Jesse the Kerboa kept a good eye on her vulnerable state during the night as an added security line. The feathered beast has seen the now fresh bruise on her jaw and even more protective over her. The Kerboa are very intelligent and already worked out the culprit that caused his master harm was the young human, Desmond. Lucia knows that Jesse will now treat the man as a threat, being incredibly hostile towards him if he ever comes close, and that is only because the Witch calmed the creature's anger, else Desmond would have received an unwanted disturbance during his sleep... She is not angry at him for attacking her, but certainly not happy about it either. He is assaulting the wrong people, blinded by thoughtless rage. If he witnessed what those villagers turned raiders were about to do to her, I'm sure he would have realised those attacks were in self defence. And the boy would have been dead by now. But let him, let his rage continue. He will probably become the exact thing that destroyed his life. She is currently harvesting the small crop plot in front of her home for supplies to her potions. Jesse is perched upon her shoulder, he refuses her leave her alone no matter how much she fusses over him. So in resign, she relented. Let's hope the Kerboa does not attack Desmond on sight...
|
|
|
Gate
Sept 24, 2017 20:41:47 GMT
Post by Shift on Sept 24, 2017 20:41:47 GMT
Dorian had lied awake for some time, now. He had spent that time thinking about various things. What to do when morning comes, what the village is planning, and Desmond. Dorian worried for him, it was clear he couldn't handle the date of his family and village, and there didn't seem to be much he could do to help. Once he noticed the light streaming through an opening in his tent, he got up to get ready.
Once his apparel was in order, he left the tent, which was placed near Lucia's house. He stood for a moment, admiring the scenery without their being a mob to block his view. He walked, wanting to stretch his legs, when he noticed a figure tending to the garden. He recognized the figure as Lucia, and by the looks of it, her Kerboa as well. "Morning," he said as he moved closer, "I'm guessing the bruises are healing?". He smiled as he stood in front of her. Remembering aomething, he reached into his pocket taking out a pouch. "I figured I should give you this. It's illicium dust. I don't know if you have any need for it, but I don't have the skill to use it as well as you could, so here." He reached out to Lucia, pouch in hand
|
|
|
Gate
Sept 24, 2017 21:26:17 GMT
Post by Raz on Sept 24, 2017 21:26:17 GMT
The young villager yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. His stomach growled loudly in the empty cabin. He hadn't eaten since early yesterday morning, though there hadn't exactly been much time to worry about food considering yesterday's events. The ache in his heart still could be felt though it wasn't as insistent as it had been the day before. It was a dull ache in the pit of his gut but that was all it was for now. No longer was it all encompassing as it had been the day before. Also on the mend was his own wound. The flesh had reknitted almost entirely from what he saw after removing the bandage. The skin was red and sore but he was no longer bleeding which was the most important part. The Witch's healing potion had really done the trick. At the mere mention of her his fists clench in memory of what had happened yesterday. With a force of will he let out a breath and shook his head. He didn't want to think of the witch right now, nor his wound, or his loss. The only thing that he wanted on his mind right now was Lyvyne. Speaking of which he needed to go find her. He pushed himself up and onto his feet and walked over to the door. The old hinges creaked as the door opened up, revealing the blinding light of the early morning sun. Desmond winced and shielded his eyes from the bright light. He wore a tattered and blood stained shirt and trousers. The clothes felt rough against his skin now that they'd dried. Once his eyes have adjusted he notices the witch and the mercenary chatting by some plants. He scowls and shakes his head, he was no dealing with them this morning. The bodies of the villagers were gone, where they went he didn't want to think about. He felt the scathing glare of the Witch's pet upon him so he takes a wide berth around them. He could see the feathers of his companion just a little ways into the forest. He made his way over to her. She could hear him approaching from behind her. The familiar footfall of her human friend was practically memorized by the Avalon. Desmond sits down beside her and looks into the water with her. He does this without a word. They sit in silence for some time before he speaks up, "I'm sorry." His voice is quiet when he speaks.
|
|