Shapeshifter
Dog & Brahminy Kite
Fulsi
Delta
INVENTORY Skills Empathy, Touch
Weapons Ice Axe (x2), Hunting Knife(x2)
Items Shift Armor, Chainmail Gloves, Throat Guard, Handcuffs(x3), Stetchbook, Drawing Supplies, Indian Ink
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Post by Tarrik Rosdahl on Oct 24, 2012 13:48:11 GMT -5
He was not reassured, no matter how calm Holly seemed. "Pie?!" he babbled, talking over her as she tried to explain the situation. "Waah happened t' him? S' blood all over, Holl! HOLL!" But she was gone, getting who knows what, with the promise of a swift return. Alone on his side of the room, he hugged his knee and watched the medics try to save Py Ackerman.
The cuts he'd seen before, long down his body in stripes, now struck him as claw marks, if anything could have claws that long, or so many. Py himself never so much as twitched as they cut out diseased flesh and sewed or crafted back together what they could. It was ugly work, though he had the impression he'd seen the like before, and it only served to amplify the yawning sense of cold in his core. If he had to guess, his bet would be that the pink-haired man was going to die, and soon. He didn't want to watch, and pressed his eyes closed against frustrated, agonized tears and tried to breathe evenly, desperately hoping Holly would come back. And after far, far too long of listening to the slip and squelch of the medics work, she finally did, and wasn't alone. Their arrival was heralded by two arms like rebar hoisting him up, and he scarcely had the strength to open his eyes to see who it was. A mountain of a man was holding him, and Holly beside him. He struggled to flash her what might have been a smile before his eyes slid shut again, exhausted.
Far too soon he was jostled back to what was passing for alertness with him, and he peered about to find himself facing Holly once more, water in her hand. He wasn't sure he wanted it, and when she held it up to his mouth it was like something in his chest strung viciously tight in panic, and he smacked the cup away with a snarl. The water splashed over his knees, clear, not red like he could have sworn it was a moment earlier. "I..I." he didn't know why he'd done it, or why sick anxiety was twisting in him now like a knife. When the second cup of water was silently offered, he took it himself, and managed to choke it down. The fear coiled anew when she pulled out the knife, but this time he controlled it better, and held still while she tried to separate him from the bloody, filthy mess that used to be his shirt.
It went fairly well until she got first to his wrists, which were scabbed and leaking blood, and even with the rain the material stuck. They came free with a yank from him that Holly did not agree too, and fresh blood welled. His ribs, beneath the dirt that had managed to permeate every layer of his clothing, were dark with bruising on his side, and shallow cuts were dispersed between few deeper ones. The moment his cut sleeves were gone, he reached back to pull at fabric that remained covering his back with a frustrated grunt through his teeth, not caring that his other injuries ought to get tended. "Ow! That hurts, Holl! No not these, m'back, I c'n feel..." He wasn't actually sure what it felt like, but it wasn't good, like the sprained ankle you knew not to move. Every lift and twist of his arms only improved upon the pain, but he was beyond caring. His wrists felt better with the chafe of the fabric removed, and he wanted the damn shirt off.
----- ooc; sweetbbies a post o.o
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SHAPESHIFTER
Carna
SCOUT
INVENTORY Skills Vision, agility
Weapons Push knives, throwing knife
Items Outfit, harness, armor
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Post by Holly on Dec 10, 2012 12:38:20 GMT -5
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She could feel her scowl darkening with each revealed swath of injuries, and she did her best to control it, smoothing her expression into something neutral and clinical. Still, she couldn’t stop her lips from compressing into a thin line at the state of his wrists, alarm ringing in her chest. Those were not from some random fight. Someone had chained him.
Regulating her breathing, restraining the urge to shake him and ask him who, she pulled his arms back down from where he was reaching for his back. She pushed down the anger that roiled in her stomach, and gave herself a mental round of applause for managing such a casual tone when she spoke. “Knock it off, you’re gonna make it worse. Just let me.” Grilling him wouldn’t help, it would just distress him, so she slid around to kneel behind him and began working at the fabric. He seemed to prefer the rip-it-off-quick-like-a-bandaid method, and normally Holly would agree, but the sheer size of the sticking area concerned her.
So focused on removing the shirt without doing any more damage, it was only when she tossed it aside and sat back that she registered what she was looking at. Fury hit her like a slap to the face, her hands knotting into fists as she froze against the impulse to break things, to shift and rampage and pull the world apart. She wouldn’t just kill whoever had done this, she would destroy them. She would leave their body in pieces as a warning to whoever thought they could challenge the Carna - challenge her - this way. She would put Tain at her back, and by god, he would stay there. No more of his heroic shit, he was too damned soft to be wandering the dome alone.
Realizing that she’d lost control of her breathing, and her chest was heaving as though she’d just run a sprint, she deliberately relaxed her hands. She rested the fingertips of one of them lightly against the middle of Tain’s back, right over his spine, on one of the few unmarked pieces of skin. By some miracle, her voice didn’t shake - instead, it was cold with deadly promise. “I am going to kill whoever did this to you,” she vowed. “I’m going to rip their heart out and shove it down their ******* throat.”
He had wings branching over his shoulders, extending down his back and onto his upper arms. Wings carved into place with a hot knife.
They couldn’t possibly be from the rouges, they weren’t that fresh. Had to be someone else. Someone she would find.
Fighting for control of her emotions, Holly moved back around him, keeping a hand on his elbow so he didn’t topple, and reached for the rags with the other. Soaking one in the now-hot water, she set about swiping the bloody mud from him, carefully cleaning the injuries on his torso and arms with a patience she rarely put to use. Ignoring his back for the moment was deliberate - if she didn’t compose herself first, she’d just end up snarling incoherently. Cracking open the first aid kit, she cleaned the wounds more thoroughly with an antiseptic rinse, slathered them with antibiotic cream for good measure, then bandaged them.
Taking a breath, she moved behind him again, and froze, but this time it wasn’t the obvious signs of torture that caught her attention. There was a paw tattoo on his neck. Ducking her head back around him to check, she affirmed that there wasn’t one on his abdomen, and straightened. After staring at the back of his head for a beat, she plucked the hat off his head. Brown, not blue hair, and the world tilted under her. “Bloody hell,” she muttered.
Apparently, Tain had a brother. Not just a brother, a twin. An identical twin. Holly tried to absorb that as she went through the methodical motions of tending to the wounds on his back. That explained the whole not-afraid-of-heights thing, and the axes he was carrying around. Not to mention that he’d torn some rouge’s throat out with his teeth.
The implications were more important than the how, though. Her impulse was to hide this Graywall, to protect him. She justified it to herself by acknowledging that he’d been through a hell of a lot, recently, and obviously didn’t remember much. He was in no state to hold up against Carna interrogation. The problem was, Tain was walking around somewhere, and the entire Ring had seen her haul in an injured, incoherent ‘Tain.’ She couldn’t risk moving this Graywall, not before he had some sleep or a medic’s attention. Except the medics were busy, and wouldn’t be willing to spare time on someone who was supposed to be a medic himself. Nor was Py available to help her.
Her best hope, she decided, was to play it dumb. She would stay with the newly found Graywall through the night, and move him in the morning. Hopefully Tain didn’t show up beforehand, so she could get his brother out, and return with the actual Tain like nothing had happened. If Tain did show up, she could claim not to have realized, act shocked, and let Tain make the case for his brother’s life.
Satisfied with her decision, if still somewhat anxious, she finished up and repacked the first aid kit. She worked a damp cloth gently through the Graywall’s hair, checking for blood or fractures, then managed a smile for him. “Alright, you can lie down. Probably want to lie on your stomach, though.”
ooc; THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER words; 954
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Post by grace! on Dec 17, 2012 18:31:21 GMT -5
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Shapeshifter
Dog & Brahminy Kite
Fulsi
Delta
INVENTORY Skills Empathy, Touch
Weapons Ice Axe (x2), Hunting Knife(x2)
Items Shift Armor, Chainmail Gloves, Throat Guard, Handcuffs(x3), Stetchbook, Drawing Supplies, Indian Ink
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Post by Tarrik Rosdahl on Feb 4, 2013 1:44:03 GMT -5
It took her long enough to comply with his whining about wanting the rest of the shirt off, not that he had the best concept of time at the moment. The wet peel of charred, scabbed, and raw skin crept over him inch by patient inch, and he was squirming something vicious by the time she was done. Holly didn't say anything to him at first, which was probably a good thing, the pain by that point had his throat choked and tears forced down his face. He wouldn't have managed all that coherent of a reply if he'd tried. Thankfully by the time she had her rage under control, though he remained oblivious, his body's endorphins had gone to work once more in numbing the wreck of his back into a hot, distant haze.
Lion claws had done it, he figured or the bark, or the bull maybe. Maybe there had been more attackers he couldn't remember, and one of them was responsible for whatever was holding up Holly's attention. That did nothing to explain the vicious oath that came a moment after her fingers touched light against his spine, icy to him against his fever-hot skin. She would kill them? Confusion pulled his brows down an his mouth open in a silent 'o', and watched her come around the front of him.
Holly looked furious. Not just angry, but something deeper, and colder, and stronger. He'd always been good with faces, picking up people's emotions. Emotions, emotional control, a hallway of doors, black hair and black ink? His head rang like a bell, forcing him to scrub at an eye with the heel of his hand to make the pressure of the missing connections, evidently large ones, go away. "They're already dead," he heard himself grate out, and hazarded a peek at her work. Turned out she had his other hand, the left, cleaned and was most of the way through bandaging it. He hadn't, and didn't, feel a lick of it; but he couldn't find it in himself to care. "In the rain, me.. then you, and..." his face fell, and his mouth tasted like copper again. Obediently, he traded her his other wrist. "Dead."
With no need to elaborate, he let her work in silence. By the time she was done his second wrist and onto his chest, he was dozing in place. Some time later he was roused by his hat being stolen away, which got a low grumble of sound from him. He was pretty sure his hair didn't deserve a 'bloody hell' when compared to, say, the mess that was the rest of him. Women could be so unfair about these things, he whined in the part of his mind that he was still in contact with. So totally unfair.
Still, when she worked the cloth through his hair some time later, it was damn near worth all the quasi-torture he'd put up with in the name of medical attention. "Dunneed t'lay down, I'm already a'sleepin," he wheedled, but sank forward all the same, and stretched out carefully. There literally was no comfortable angle, everything burned when he so much as twitched, but after some wiggling he was prone. "Thanks," he grumbled into the blanket, which smelled unfamiliar. "Whaddabout you? I can't.." Can't feel my hands, can't see right, can't move, can barely breathe. It was a long list right then. She'd looked alright to him, but his vision hadn't been right in hours. Even now the corner of her he could see swam in and out of focus, and his eyes slid left and right every time he blinked. You're gonnabe 'round in the mornin.. right? A last ditch pulse of adrenaline revved him up enough to get the words out, pale eyes widening for a worried beat. He didn't recognize anyone else, and if she had to go somewhere, and he woke up and forgot again.. the thought scared him, as much as anything could through the downward press into unconsciousness he was struggling against.
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SHAPESHIFTER
Carna
SCOUT
INVENTORY Skills Vision, agility
Weapons Push knives, throwing knife
Items Outfit, harness, armor
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Post by Holly on Feb 16, 2013 21:49:28 GMT -5
[bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] She remained silent in the face of his confusion. It was best to let him remain ignorant for the moment. Telling him that he'd been tortured would confuse him further at best, or at worst, bring it all crashing back, which would distress him. As much as she wanted answers, he needed to sleep, and Holly wasn't going to jeopardize his relative calm.
He finally settled down, though not without whining about it first. Appearances aside, she could see the relation.
"I'm fine, just some bruises." About to settle beside him, she paused, eyeing his - admittedly fine - jean-clad ass. She hadn't thought to check his lower half for injuries, but considering the state of the rest of him, it was a likely case. With a sigh, she leaned over and pulled his shoes off, then slid a hand under his hip, wrestling the button open. Sitting back, she unceremoniously stripped his pants off, ignoring any exclamations. To her relief, his legs weren't nearly as bloody as his torso, mostly scrapes and bruises.
Rinsing the cloth in the still-warm water, she wiped down the injuries, and reopened the med kit to dab them with the antibiotic ointment. Satisfied, Holly pulled the blankets up around his waist. She didn't think he'd want them on his back, and he'd be warm enough without them. Returning the ointment to the case, she tucked it out of sight behind her mattress, then spread the Graywall's soaked, tattered jeans out to dry by the fire. Fuel was too precious to continue to feed the flames all night, but hopefully it would be enough that he would have dry pants for morning.
Shifting, she settled onto the bed beside him, curled close but not touching, her back to the wall, reflectively spreading a wing over him. The little campfire beside her bed would draw attention, and she didn't want people asking questions about 'Tain.'
"Sleep. I'll keep watch." Not just to watch out for the return of the actual Tain, but also to make sure this Graywall kept breathing. She didn't fancy telling Tain his brother had died on her watch. Remembering his earlier question, she added, "I'll be here when you wake up."
As the torches that lit the cavern were extinguished, and the fire burned down to embers, slowly losing the battle against the ever-present gloomy dark of the sewers, she kept her word. She dozed lightly on occasion, but one ear was always cocked toward her ringmates. Hours slipped past in darkness, but as her internal clock inched closer to dawn, the torches and fires were re-lit, and people began to stir. She remained still, allowing her charge to gather whatever strength he could.
ooc; A SHORTER POST? EGAD. words; 453
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Shapeshifter
Dog & Brahminy Kite
Fulsi
Delta
INVENTORY Skills Empathy, Touch
Weapons Ice Axe (x2), Hunting Knife(x2)
Items Shift Armor, Chainmail Gloves, Throat Guard, Handcuffs(x3), Stetchbook, Drawing Supplies, Indian Ink
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Post by Tarrik Rosdahl on Mar 1, 2013 19:01:45 GMT -5
Tarrik was usually way more excited about a girl taking off his pants, but he was so tired he couldn't manage so much as a 'mmhm, bossy.' Cold though, he was definitely cold until she got a blanket all up on him. Then he was still cold, but dryer and warming slowly. It still smelled funny, but after all day it might as well have been a feather bed in a five star hotel.
Next to him, Holly shifted to the giant whatsit that was her other half, and a tawny wing spread lazily over him. The enclosure was comforting, but more importantly he could feel the heat she threw off. Jealousy, thy name is Tarrik. A minute of careful, painful inching later, he'd managed to snug up to a much more comfortable distance; in that there wasn't any between them. Soft fur and feathers pressed lightly against his right side, and the radiating heat coaxed him to sleep faster than any drug could have.
What felt like six years later, he woke up. It happened when a tenderfoot stopped to ask Holly something, the low voices dragging him up from near-consciousnesses. It's too early for this, he thought, but what came out was "Henngennnn." Everything was one giant bruise-scab-ache, which fortunately he was well acquainted with waking up to. Deep breathes pushed a mental wall into place, corralling the pain and the urge to lay down and sleep for another age. That could come later, there was a distinct sense of urgency that had him sitting up as the tenderfoot walked away, his mess of scorched copper hair dragging against the small innermost feathers of Holly's wing.
Holly.
....Holly?!
Faster than he should have, Tarrik pushed her wing higher with one tired elbow and stared at her, owl eyed. Deer in the headlights would have been a good description. "I'm... not Tain," he muttered, in as must disbelief as realization. All was most certainly not clear, fragments and memories were hitting him like puzzle pieces as his brain scrambled for order. He lived in a city. His name was not Tain. He was a Fulsi, whatever that was. His name? No, not his name, his home. Which meant this was not his home, which meant Holly was not his.. his whatever. Friend? He was gaping slightly.
"Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit."
Should he be fleeing? Should he be fighting? And where the heck were his pants?! A dazed look around and they turned up on the floor nearby, along with the striped red and gunmetal of his ice axes. He was probably about to make a very bad decision, but he had the feeling he did that a lot. Like a cat startled into awakeness he suddenly lunged to the side, out from her wing to grab the nearest axe. It was perhaps hilariously slow, his usual, at least he was pretty sure it was his usual, reflexes smashed down to a snails pace. And a clumsy one at that, he realized as his eyes played tricks on his depth perception and his fingers jammed onto cold concrete.
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SHAPESHIFTER
Carna
SCOUT
INVENTORY Skills Vision, agility
Weapons Push knives, throwing knife
Items Outfit, harness, armor
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Post by Holly on Mar 3, 2013 23:52:17 GMT -5
[bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] There were those who had very late or very early patrol, but most of the ring’s activities, particularly the domestic ones, occurred during the day, when natural light was available.The tenderfoot she’d been working with lately had noticed she wasn’t up and moving yet, like most of the others who had morning or daytime duties, and wanted to know if she intended to go out that day. Holly had rumbled a negative, and then felt the Graywall stir below her wing. She immediately flattened her ears at the boy, who paled slightly, and hastened his retreat.
Just in time, too, as the Fulsi elbowed her wing up, and she obligingly pulled it back slightly. She blinked at his frozen expression, then grimaced at his revelation. She’d known it was a possibility this might happen, but had hoped it would at least hold off until they got out of the sewers. Graywall boggled at her, and she opened her beak to begin to explain, when suddenly he lunged gracelessly away from her.
“Calm down, you idiot, before you get us both killed!” she hissed after him. As she spoke, she stood and casually padded around to face him, putting her back to cavern and dropping her forequarters in a feline stretch. Her wings flared out somewhat in the process, shielding him from view. She straightened, then shook out her coat and feathers before sitting on the concrete to glare at the Fulsi.
“I know you’re not Tain, I realized that when I was getting you cleaned up,” she informed him, voice low. Most people were busy with their morning routine and would give Holly and her “medic” little notice, but some had sharp ears. “I don’t know your name, other than Graywall, but I assume you’re a Fulsi. I can take you back there, if you want.” She grimaced as she said it, but she wasn’t going to make him try to walk back. Who knew how far he’d get before collapsing, forgetting what he was doing, or getting attacked.
“Now just relax, okay? I’m not gonna let any of the big scary Carna hurt you.” A glance over her shoulder confirmed that breakfast was being dolled out. She shifted back to human, and walked the few paces over to the Fulsi to kneel beside him, getting him situated so he was sitting on the bed. Plucking the hat from the floor, she pulled it over his head. “Just keep that on, yeah? I’m gonna get you some food, and then we can go.” She glanced at him, and amended, “Food, pants, and then we’ll go.”
Breakfast ended up being a chewy porridge, but they’d found some dried fruit to dice and throw in, so it was better than normal. She got a serving for both herself and Graywall, plus some fresh water, and returned to her bed, handing him the bowl. For some reason she had ended up with a fork instead of a spoon, but she managed, eating quickly but steadily. When she finished, she set the bowl aside and downed some water, then declared, “Pants.” Standing again, she snatched the jeans off the floor and turned to Graywall to gesture him up.
ooc; sleeeeeps -topples- words; 537
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Shapeshifter
Dog & Brahminy Kite
Fulsi
Delta
INVENTORY Skills Empathy, Touch
Weapons Ice Axe (x2), Hunting Knife(x2)
Items Shift Armor, Chainmail Gloves, Throat Guard, Handcuffs(x3), Stetchbook, Drawing Supplies, Indian Ink
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Post by Tarrik Rosdahl on Mar 21, 2013 22:33:25 GMT -5
His pathetic scramble was cut short when Holly loomed in front of him, and he reel-flopped back onto his ass to stare some more. "I will not," he complained when she suggested he was trying to get them both killed, and his panic reformed into a pout. Adaptable, or maybe just stupid. Probably exhausted. And she was totally between him and his pants, or what was left of them.
And wait. She'd known he wasn't Tain? Tain was his brother. Like, his twin. He immediately gave her a sly, suspicious look. "You know how to tell us apart naked? You are so hot right now. ....not.. literally." An arm flailed loosely at her monster form, right brow ticked down in a mildly confused expression. "And I should totally go back there, to the.. um. Place? Yea-oi! Thas-backwards!"
He fixed his hat and people-watched while she left to find food. His inital fear, with nothing tangible to hold on to, had fizzled out. People he didn't know were walking around from one pool of firelight to another. It occurred to him that he had no idea in hell where they were. He kinda remembered falling at some point. And his head was starting to pound like a base drum, and he didn't care enough to think hard; Holly said she'd take him out, so he'd let her do the mental heavy-lifting.
She came back with food in short order, and he found himself with the interesting dilemma of being ravenous and feeling like he was going to puke. With silent effort, he choked the food down. Must have been the dog in him. He zoned out hard, because he nearly didn't hear Holly when she demanded he get his pants on. He wasn't wearing pants? Right. He felt like this was something he'd already known. "Er, right. Yeah."
Standing up sucked. Super sucked. Sucked harder than a vacuum cleaner in an infomercial. And then some. He got there, though, carefully. Getting said pants on was another feat entirely, and took both of them, a wall for balance, and certain degree of insanity to accomplish. But by gods he had his pants on again. He was looked at, deemed useless, and in short order he found himself on Holly's back. Which was fascinating, because he didn't remember getting there. She took one step and his stomach heaved dangerously, and he buckled forward with a soft keen of pain. While he had the sense to do it he reached down and took his belt, unhooked it, and lashed it under the harness as well with unsteady fingers. A sideways glance showed his axes already back on his thighs, through the loops and tied securely in place with rags from his ruined shirt. Someone was thinking further ahead than him, it seemed. "Ow, ow. ...I'm fine, just, gonna.. stay down." And he did, forehead pressed into the feathers at the nape of her neck, eyes squeezed closed. As for holding on he just looped his elbows through and grabbed onto the leather by his chin. Once she started moving again, everything became a mindless haze.
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SHAPESHIFTER
Carna
SCOUT
INVENTORY Skills Vision, agility
Weapons Push knives, throwing knife
Items Outfit, harness, armor
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Post by Holly on Mar 31, 2013 16:38:06 GMT -5
[bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] By the time they managed to get his pants on, Holly was thinking it wasn’t worth it, she should’ve just hauled him back to the city in his boxers. But it was already done, so no point griping about it now. While she gave him a moment to recover, she secured his axes back to his legs, and cleaned up some of the chaos from last night. She didn’t need people snooping through her stuff while she was gone, wondering about the severity of “Tain’s” injuries.
She considered blindfolding him, but that would draw more attention and he didn’t seem coherent enough to take note of direction, so she discarded the idea. Getting the Graywall on her back was a simple matter of shifting, and quickly turning into place to catch him when he toppled forward. Making him hold on was a different story. Twisting her head and shoulders around, she nudged his limbs into place, but there was nothing she could do to ensure his grip.
Frustrated, and thinking she would have to find someone to tie him in place, she took a step forward to do just that. His sharp whine of pain stopped her immediately, and she rumbled a concerned sound in response. Turning her head to look back at him, she saw him fumbling to loop his belt through the harness, and relaxed slightly. If nothing else, he wouldn’t plummet from the sky. He wound his forearms around the leather strap that ran across her shoulders, and while that was well and good, his toes were still dragging on the ground. Balancing somewhat oddly on three legs, Holly stretched forward with a one hind paw, then the other, and lifted his feet into their intended loops.
Straightening with a huff, she shook out her ruff of feathers. “You haven’t died on me yet, Graywall, so you can damn well make it another hour or two. Hang in there.” Taking off at a gentle lope, she breezed through the uncertain borders of firelight and darkness, keen to escape without anyone noticing the horror carved across the Fulsi’s shoulders. The tunnels themselves were still dark, except for the occasional torch, and that suited her just fine.
If nothing else, going up was certainly easier than coming down. Scaling ladders posed no problems, not when she could hook her talons over the bars. The weight on her back started to drag, particularly on the flat stretches, muscles protesting as she jogged along, but it wasn’t a long trip. Nudging open the door to the warehouse roof, she blinked as her eyes readjusted the light.
The sun had risen while they were getting Graywall dressed, but it wasn’t far from the horizon yet. Even so, the day promised to be clear and hot - a blessing for her shirtless passenger. Holly unfolded her wings and flexed them a few times, experimentally running through some easy strokes. Satisfied that nothing was going to cramp up mid-air, she crouched at the edge of the roof, then bounded out and up into the air.
Climbing for height, she leveled off a few hundred feet above the buildings, and banked west. Higher was easier flying, but after a point, the temperature dropped sharply.
The park, where all this nonsense had started, passed below them before the thermals really began to be any use. She caught one and rose a bit higher, coming into the city proper just above the tallest skyscrapers. It wouldn’t do to have people shooting at her, or throwing things, from the windows. Not, she grumbled to herself, that she knew which of the buildings the Fulsi populated.
Instead of trying to peer into the buildings, she circled, looked for a cluster of activity on the ground. She found it in an open square near the center of the Complex, where people were gathering, some of them gesticulating upwards. Holly banked into a descending series of large, lazy loops, coasting around the skyscrapers, giving the Fulsi plenty of time to see that she wasn’t acting aggressively. She came in for a slow, easy landing in the square, mindful of her passenger and the distance between her and the other shifters.
There were several weapons pointed her way, and a dozen more at hand, but she ignored them in favor of folding her wings - mostly. She pulled them in almost all the way, enough so they could glimpse the Graywall, but raised just enough to discourage him from sliding off. The situation was delicate, and she didn’t want him rushing forward just yet.
“I’m returning one of yours,” she called across the gap, voice cool.
The woman standing at the front of the group, with a longbow and tousled brown hair, appeared startled, but a flash of relief chased the surprise away. When she answered, it was with a mild expression, an eyebrow arched. “Oh?”
“Found him in the park, yesterday, getting his ass handed to him by some rogues. He’s got some amnesia - looks like he was hurt to begin with, before the rogues got to him. I thought he was his twin, so I brought him home. Realized my mistake, and so here we are.”
She pulled one wing away from her body slightly, an indication to the Graywall that it was time to go, but leaving it close enough to support him when he stood. One of the Fulsi stepped forward as if to help, but she flattened her ears at him. She was content to wait patiently, with them at a distance, until the Graywall found his feet, hands braced on her for balance. Adjusting the wing so it was behind him, tucked back into place against her side, she turned and touched the curve of her beak to his cheek in a griffin-style kiss. She left it there for a beat, then rubbed her forehead gently against him, keeping one eye on the Fulsi. The gesture was partly intended to annoy the Fulsi leader talking to her, but the other part - well, she liked this Graywall.
Walking him forward a few more paces, she paused, and gestured toward the assembled Fulsi. “Go on, then.”
ooc; LONGPOSTISLONG words; 1024 8|
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Shapeshifter
Dog & Brahminy Kite
Fulsi
Delta
INVENTORY Skills Empathy, Touch
Weapons Ice Axe (x2), Hunting Knife(x2)
Items Shift Armor, Chainmail Gloves, Throat Guard, Handcuffs(x3), Stetchbook, Drawing Supplies, Indian Ink
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Post by Tarrik Rosdahl on Apr 18, 2013 14:58:25 GMT -5
As much as he'd liked his first flight with Holly, this time was an exercise in willpower. The up and up scurry that came first left him feeling like he'd gone on six roller coasters after eating bad takeout, and then they took off. His stomach definitely stayed somewhere on the ground, and he felt his fever rise as nausea dug in deep. In fact the only reason he didn't throw up, was he passed out. By the time he woke up again, they were well past the Hospital. It was colder up high, but he couldn't feel it, even damp with sweat in the wind.
There really was nothing for it but to hold on and watch the treetops pass, then roads, then skyscrapers. A bit dimly, he felt like he knew what he was looking at, abet from the entirely wrong angle. They coasted lower, and the sensation increased. And then cracked pavement loomed, fast enough that he had to squeeze his eyes shut. But their touchdown was gentle, and there was no repeat of his previous head-over-heels landing. Drunkenly, he got his arms free, and tried to shake feeling back into them. Pins and needles exploded from elbow to fingertip, and he had to fumble with his belt several times before he finally got it free. Meanwhile Holly announced she was returning him to a group of people that had escaped his notice entirely.
"Do I look like a ditcha-AHH!" Right over he went, having entirely forgotten about the stirrups still around his feet. Her wing had caught him, but he was still fairly sideways and looking six types of fool. Some flailing later he was on his feet, panting from the hilariously minor exertion. Then he swayed in place when she bumped first his cheek, then his chest lightly. He took it as prompting to hug her head as hard as he could, which was barely anything, and mumble an exhausted, Thanks, Holl, into the feathers. And then she was shooing him off, which he obeyed with a pouting look, pale eyes moving to eye up the new group uncertainly. He didn't recognize any of them, though the way they were looking at him suggested that he ought too.
Then just one step out of place, and he fell. Not hard, just to his hands and knees. But he distinctly felt something along his upper back tear, and it was like someone cut his strings. He felt a hand on his shoulder, featherlight, and a voice, miles away calling for a stretcher. The pavement was rough over his cheek and palms, but he didn't seem to have the strength or will to move. Everything was going cold and heavy as lead, his sense of direction and gravity floating away as his eyes slid closed, his body giving in. Someone yelled that he was going into shock, and a name, repeated closer. "Tarrik, Tarrik!" That was his name, wasn't it? But then the voices faded entirely, and he sank into unconsciousness.
----- ooc; Dude, Holly you are like the worst fed-ex ever. I hope the package was insured. >3>
/FIN
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