It's No Fairytale;

[Elisabeth Ramsey]

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[atrb=background,http://usera.imagecave.com/Ravenz/sixingold/lissy2.jpg] Heat made mirages dance before her, but she resolved not to alter her course. She’d already wandered towards some paradise-looking place twice and was forced to retrace her steps back to the slightly worn path that the Fallen took from the station to the Oasis. The bucket a superior had given her swung listlessly at her side, and every now and then it slipped out of her fingers. She should’ve taken the advice he’d given her, too. Stay out of the desert now, there’s no rush, you can wait until evening. Elisabeth couldn’t keep a few bitter thoughts back as she wiped at the sweat on her face with the bottom of her blouse before unbuttoning the bottom half and tying it, exposing her soft, newly compact stomach to the sun. She’d considered completely taking it off, but the thought of such indecency made her skin crawl. Her knee-high socks were pushed down to her ankles. She’d tried taking off her socks and shoes, but the desert sands were even hotter than the air and burned her feet. This is torture, She thought, wincing as the hot bucket brushed against her leg. I promise to always listen to everything the adults say from now on if I can get the water and get back safely. I will never disobey again, not even a little bit, I promise… Her intention was to speak the words, but she couldn’t muster up the energy to. It was okay, though. She could console herself by reminding herself that God knew what she was thinking and feeling and would certainly hear her bargain. The desert began to get a bit hazy as something in the bottom of her mind pestered her about a lesson she’d had a few years ago about betting and gambling and trading with Him… Was it outlawed? What she had previously brushed off as just another trick of her mind refused to go away as she got closer. It looked like heaven; there were luscious palm trees and tall grass and a lot of water. As she neared it, it stayed put, instead of keeping to the horizon, as the rest of the mirages so infuriatingly did. Just as she began to hope that this wasn’t a mirage, that it was what she’d been sent out to find, she pitched forward and landed, tangled, in the scorching sand. She arched her back away from it immediately and pushed herself to her feet, looking around for what she tripped over. She found it almost immediately. At her feet lay a coconut. A beautiful, glorious, green, real coconut. Elisabeth could’ve cried, she was so happy. Gifted suddenly with energy, she ran (or tried to, she sort of just quickly stumbled) towards the Oasis. The bucket lay forgotten about by the coconut, as did her reason for coming to this place. Instead of fetching water and lugging it back for some of the younger Fallen, as she’d been instructed to, she went to the nearest palm tree and all but passed out beneath it, safe from the midday sun. Elisabeth didn’t know how long she’d slept. She blinked awake when she felt something touch her, looking groggily through her lashes. Something dark loomed over her, and at first she thought it was just the shadow of the tree she was under. As her eyes began to adjust to the light, though, she saw a pair of pale green eyes staring down at her. Elisabeth let out a girlish scream, rolled over once, then got part way on her feet and ran a few steps, stopping behind a bush and peering out at the man, her heart thrumming violently in her chest. She was normally not so skittish and cowardly, but her ventures within the Speakeasy had shaken her up a bit. It wasn’t surprising, as she had been chased around—in the dark—by a beast that defied all laws of creation. She blanched as she saw the wings sprouting out of the man’s back like plagued ivy, unnatural and alien and intimidating. Her mind screamed monster, but she was frozen on the spot, her voice nowhere to be found. --- words; 696 ooc; For Mourge! C: And surries, something is missing from this… -prods at- ah well. A post, at least? :’D Edit: And she didn't say a single thing o.o I can change that, if you want XD

[Sascha Stark]

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[atrb=background,http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i319/sketchedesigns/saschabg.png] The world below seemed somehow so dismal and drawn - ever since his encounter with Eris and shortly thereafter the tussle with a Virus, Casey and his unexpected kiss...the world was somehow different. There was no brilliance, no new sparkle to the world without wither of them to show such things. Eris, with her violence - yet a sorrow so deep no man could match it. Something Sascha intended to fix - certainly he would do his best - if he ever found her again. Which was not likely - he'd found out she was a Carna woman, and a higher ranked one at that. It would make visiting her next to impossible - he knew from experience and a few fading scars that the Carna did not take well to anthros who fed on them while they slept. Or anthros at all for that matter. In truth, it was surprising that she hadn't tried more fervently to slaughter him, though the shallow scratches that had pretty much healed up of their own accord still did prove she was a true Carna...which in truth frightened him a little. She hadn't even said thank you for saving her from falling, and from the Keeper. He still had the knife wounds from the savage attack, not caring to remember how violent he'd gotten. his knuckles were still bruised - not to mention his nose was running and he kept sneezing. Stupid Virus. Oh, well. At least he'd gotten some recompense out of the whole thing. The hot, searing wind buffeted against him, the sun beating down on the black expanse of his wings as he rode the thermals, saving as much energy as he could for the long flight. He was searching for some food - or, really, somebody from whom he could feed. The thought made his stomach turn - why did the Keepers have to choose him? Why did they take away his ability to digest the normal, tasty food he missed so much? Now he hungered only for blood - a thought which thoroughly disturbed him as each night the moon rose and he buried his fangs into someone's flesh, sucking the blood from their wrist or god forbid the occasional neck... He saw a small form trekking through the desert below, just a tiny speck really, his sharp vision catching the detail that she was swinging a bucket. She must be headed to the Oasis. He'd been there several times to drink at night, when it was the least guarded, but had seldom visited when the sun shone brilliantly overhead. It was much easier to get captured - he'd heard that the Fallen were friendly to Anthros, but...they wouldn't be kind to one like himself. One who stole into their rooms at night to feed from their blood...at the recurring thought his stomach growled and flipped simultaneously, a constant struggle with nausea and hunger that plagued him both day and night. Sascha sighed warily and swooped down and banked a left turn, heading away from the oasis and back towards he city; he had traveled about thirty minutes before his keen eyes latched onto a form flying a few thousand feet below him, in the distance - narrowed at first to get finite detail, they suddenly snapped open wide, glazed with fear; it was him. The Virus. Damn. Damn. He could hear the low buzzing in the distance, the hum of his insectoid wings that sent a shudder up his spine as he hovered for a few moments, massive wings straining to keep him aloft. How had it picked up his trail? Sascha had to bite down a growing sense of panic and turned on heel (well, wing) and got the hell out of there, heading the way he'd come - the oasis. The nearest place he could think of where he would be impenetrably safe from a Virus - Casey had told him that their weakness was water. Some...chemical mumbjo jumbo he'd tried to explain - Sascha managed a smile at the thought of Casey - Magic Man. Glancing behind him several times, he saw the Virus gaining ground, so he sped up and arrived at the Oasis just shy of 20 minutes to his previous 30, wings and back aching from the effort. He'd never flown for so long, and he dropped like a stone to the ground, at the last minute catching himself and landing with a soft thud on his knees, scrambling to the water's edge and preparing for the worse. He heard the Virus nearby - and his eyes caught on the small form he'd seen from above not long ago. It was just a little girl - Sascha's eyes rounded with worry and he hustled to her side, peering at her sleeping face, green eyes flickering to the skies above with worry - he leaned over her and lightly gripped her shoulder, attempting to rouse her. He watched her face intently, ensuring that she was even alive when her eyes snapped open and she screamed, rolling away from him and hiding from a bush. He understood her obvious fear, but as he watched her eyes trace along his wings, and the fear that traced into her eyes...he felt his heart plummet to his stomach, a rising shame that furrowed his brow in a soft sadness, tips of his lips forming a sorrowed frown. She didn't need to say anything for him to understand her thoughts - monster. A beast right out a nightmare... He glanced to the skies and breathed a sigh of relief - the Virus had turned tail and fled as it got a whiff of the water - and turned his sights back on the child. He waved feebly, pathetically, with a sad smile as he turned to go, sorrow and shame weighing heavily on his heart, rejected once again - by a child no less! - - - - - sorry, it gets a little repetitive/suck-y/ramble-y :c. and for the wait .-.

[Elisabeth Ramsey]

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[atrb=background,http://usera.imagecave.com/Ravenz/sixingold/lissy2.jpg] The girl stiffened even more when the man-thing looked at her, if it was possible. Her lip and fingers trembled, but her legs were poised to launch, should he step towards her. Shifting would do no good, she knew; with his wings he shouldn’t have any trouble outflying her. And then squashing her—quite literally. To her great relief, he backed off. Elisabeth took in a few shaky breaths, allowing her muscles to relax slightly. She followed his gaze up to the sky, and, seeing nothing, felt a great wave of guilt. Shame on me. I almost lost my faith in creations. She scolded herself with her thoughts, letting go of all tension completely. Just because one monstrous-looking thing was bad didn’t mean they all were. And just because she happened across a person (at least, she thought he was a person) who looked different than her was no need for alarm. She’d long since accepted that her sheltered life was worlds different than a ‘real’ life. A beast right out of a nightmare… Elisabeth started at the thought that she didn’t remember thinking. She let it go, though, without analyzing it too much. Her thoughts toward the man had been along that line, though she didn’t remember thinking anything so harsh lately. Kindness of thought wasn’t at the top of her priorities at the time, so instead she crept a step forward when his gaze had wandered, doing her best to examine him further. What was he? Now that the original moment of terror was over and it didn’t appear that he was about to go for her throat, she found herself slightly fascinated. Horrified, yes, and wishing she’d never even heard of the word ‘Menagerie,’ but interested. He had such a human face and such human characteristics, and yet he looked like some kind of demonic angel. Even his expression, which gave her a pang of something as she noticed, was very human. It was something in the sadness of his face that caused her to let her guard down a bit more… And then another thought that clearly did not originate in her mind faded in and out, like a song on a radio station that was just out of range. Something about a Virus and water. Elisabeth had heard tales of Viruses, tales which gave her little reason to think about them. They frightened her silly. Which meant… Someone else was putting these thoughts in her head. The panic had been lurking, waiting for the right moment to jump the girl. There was a sharp intake of breath from her, and she looked to the man’s face, confused and scared. He looked simply beaten and down-trodden, though, not like he was attacking her brain. She watched as he gave her a wave goodbye. She found her heart hurting for him, wondering why he seemed so… so sad. Elisabeth, still too naïve and innocent to accuse someone of such deception as to mess with her mind and then play the wounded-puppy act, watched him go, her hand automatically rising to return his wave. “Wait!” She surprised even herself as she stood up and called out to him, stretching an arm out slightly. He was simply too blue to allow. She wanted to change him like she’d never wanted to change anyone in her life (though she hadn’t really felt the desire to change anyone, to be fair). She felt bad just looking at him, watching the way he carried himself, like he wasn’t as good as everyone else… He obviously couldn’t be bad, so he must be good. And then the next thought took over her brain. Rejected once more—by a child no less! Elisabeth’s pity and empathy for him were forgotten. However delayed the thought might’ve been, it was obvious who it belonged to. “You! It’s you! I can’t believe you!” Also forgotten was his apparent ability to easily put her in her place, as things like that often were when she was angered. “You’re the one putting these thoughts in my brain! Well, Mr., please refrain from doing so, as it puts me in discomfort!” As she ended (rather lamely) she began to think about regretting yelling at the man. Oh, well. Too late now. --- words; 710 ooc; Black and white Lissy xP And sorry if it’s awful, didn’t reread o.o; XD

[Sascha Stark]

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[atrb=background,http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i319/sketchedesigns/saschabg.png] His life was a sad, pathetic thing – or so he’d been told time and time again. He was a sad, pathetic creature destined for a pitiful life full of nothing but just reward for being born who he was. He was no good – he was nothing. Nobody. The softness of his heart shamed the sternness of his jaw, the sharp, predatory edge that should shine proud and true in the depths of his eyes. His father had called him weak and useless; called him the bastard child that he should have strangled as soon as he’d emerged from the womb, before he could even utter a thin, wailing cry into a world to which he did not belong. His mother had looked upon him with a subtle terror, a lingering sorrow mingled with a hatred crafted from her own sin and shame, burdening him with a guilt that was not his to bear. And now, to see a child so frightened of what he had been turned into – something even more pitiful, more grotesque than the creature his family had made him out to be. To hear her heart hammering in desperate, bewildered fear – to feel the terror seeping from… Sascha blinked and halted in his tracks, wondering if he had imagined it. No, there it was. She had called him back – a flicker of a smile lit up his scruffy face and he turned slowly to face her. He took a few steps but pulled back when she yelled at him. “You! It’s you! I can’t believe you!” Sascha stared questioningly at her, scratching at the back of his head nervously, unsure if he’d understood her correctly. His English was still in the works though he could get through a conversation fairly well. “ Nu înţeleg...ah...I no understand what you say. I do not knowing you before now…” He closed his eyes for a moment, running through the faces he’d seen since he’d been put in here. He would remember her though – she was so young. “You’re the one putting these thoughts in my brain! Well, Mr., please refrain from doing so, as it puts me in discomfort!” at that, his eyes snapped open once again and he stepped back, surprised. What? “I am not meaning to harm you, fetita. I do not understanding what you meaning by this…thoughts. How I can put in your brain, when I am standing here? Makes none sense.” The man shook his head and raised his hands palm out by his head as if to show that he had nothing to do with it, thick brow furrowed in utter confusion. Her accusations made him nervous and wary, and he took another few steps back. He wasn’t afraid of her, but he was skittish around people in general – especially those of the female gender. The only woman he’d been comfortable around was Ecaterina…his mind clouded with sorrow, pain flashing anew as again and again her death flashed before his eyes in a flurry of blood and laughter and agony as the snow fell and was stained a sickly crimson red, the water churning into an ocean of blood and lace as her body floated on the surface, snow flecking her perfect body that drifted slowly away, farther and farther from his reach as he seemed to slip farther and farther from reality. No. Damnable hell, no! Not again! He’d gotten rid of these thoughts! He had told Casey of the tragedy, of his fiancée’s brutal murder at the hands of his brothers – he’d felt her spirit let go, felt her pain and his pain as one spread broken, beaten wings and flutter into the blinding light of what he had thought to be freedom from the memories that plagued him as if the devil himself had burrowed inside his mind and taken root. He gripped lightly at his skull, as if trying to drive the lancing agony away, eyes squeezed shut – it was only for a moment's time, a brief flash that seemed to encapsulate an entire world of hurt and pain for the broken man. It was only a moment before he remembered where he was and who it was that stood before him. “Am sorry to have scaring you. I not to meant to…” He heard it then – the snarling of some sort of beast. His eyes flashed to the sky but it was not the Virus who had returned. Sascha gulped and took a step toward the girl, more out of comfort of another human than for the sake of protecting her. He swiveled on his heel and surveyed the land around him and began a series of short, subtle clicks of his tongue, his attuned senses giving him a map of the territory that was hidden by the bushes and trees beyond – echolocation, though he didn’t know the proper term for it. All he knew is that he could see a brief, sketchy schematic of things within reach of his clicks and clacks. “There is something out there…” he whispered, his voice cracking with fear as his cowardice rang true and he began backing quickly toward the girl, before standing angling himself behind her, peeking out from behind her. “You hearing it too, da? Snarling sound…” He motioned to the other end of the oasis where the bushes extended into the water, blocking whatever creature was making the sound from view. “Not safe here. Time to be leaving, please?” - - - - - am trying to work on reply time xD I didn't re-read mine either. And might need to talk to you about editing my post but will do tomorrow!

[Elisabeth Ramsey]

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[atrb=background,http://usera.imagecave.com/Ravenz/sixingold/lissy2.jpg] She watched his eyes carefully, doing nothing about the fear and pity in hers. As they stood there in silence for a few moments, however, she found herself un-tensing despite herself. There was just something about him that reminded her so much of a teddy bear… Elisabeth bit back the longing to poke him and see if he was squishy and filled with stuffing. He probably would not appreciate that. The next time she read his thoughts, she was ready. At first she ignored them, only recognizing the foreign tinge to the memories that assured her they were hers. She steadied her gaze and stared him down as best she could, but became unnerved when she saw sadness rather than defiance there. Elisabeth took her focus off him, opening herself up to his mind, curious at what he could be thinking to inspire such a woeful look on his face. She was sorry she did. The thoughts were not quite words and not quite images, but a mixture of something in between. It was hazy, but she got the general gist of what he’d been thinking. The girl did her best to detach herself from his past, not wanting to know more. Her face was half-crumpled from the tears that wanted to come, and her heart seemed to cry at the last flicker that went from his brain to hers. “I’m not scared…” She whispered just before he spoke, quietly enough that he wouldn’t hear. It wasn’t true, either; she was still terrified, rooted to the spot. More than that, though, she was hurting. Not just for him, but for herself, at what the man’s parents had done to him when he was just a boy. The words they’d said! She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle as she thought of how his mother had looked at him. She’d never known such evil the world could show to just a child. Sure, her parents had bound her to a rock and left her to die, but they’d loved her the whole time. At least, that’s what she told herself. She was beginning to feel some doubt, but thinking this made things easier. “Nu înþeleg...ah...I no understand what you say. I do not knowing you before now…” What he said was enough of a shock to bring her out of what had turned to self-pity. Well, it wasn’t what he said so much as how he said it. He had… an accent! She’d never met someone with an accent! Elisabeth smiled slowly, almost forgetting to comprehend what he said. “It doesn’t make any sense to me either, Sir.” She put extra emphasis on the last bit, hoping he’d supply her with a name to call him. She suddenly felt horribly inferior calling everyone ‘Sir’ and ‘Ma’am.’ It seemed one step away from ‘Your Highness’ to Elisabeth. “And my name’s Elisabeth Ramsey, not fetita,” She added gently. People in this place seemed to have so many problems with her name! An unguarded Elisabeth was taken under by the next brutal set of memories. She wasn’t aware of him backing up or her own sounds of horror. The image of a dead woman floating in the ocean, covered with blood, came and would not leave. There was snow and blood and snow and blood… Elisabeth’s stomach reeled, and bile stirred in her stomach. She almost fell to her knees but stood up, still caught up in the grotesque scene before her eyes. She was aware of other thoughts bumping along, but paid them no attention. She couldn’t. Nothing was as important as this dead body, this murder, this brutality… Stop, she tried to say, but couldn’t break away long enough to talk. Oh God, she was going to go insane! She was going to drive herself mad! She had to escape, to get away! Her dragonfly self quivered and she began to go into an instinctive shift when a movement made her nearly jump out of her skin. But it was just the man, stepping towards her. She trembled and watched him, coming out of whatever sort of crazed trance she’d been in. After a few blinks she was able to steady herself, though she knew her dreams would be nightmares tonight. Something about echolocation caught and held her attention. She remembered reading about it, but her mind was too exhausted to figure out what she’d learned about it. And speaking of exhausted, she was tired! Her shoulders slumped as he moved behind her. She made no move to stop him; her energy was spent listening to him. A snarling sound? A frown played with the corners of her mouth. She didn’t remember hearing any snarling… And leaving where? Before she could turn to ask there was a loud honking of a creature in pain, followed by another snarl. Immediately the girl straightened. Something was being attacked. Elisabeth knew that the proper thing to do would be to help whatever was under attack, but she was scared and selfish and cowardly. She turned to Sascha and all but ran into his chest, pulling one of his wings around as if to hide herself. Her other hand buried itself in his shirt around his belly button and she looked over her shoulder at where the sound had been coming from. She had decided that Sascha was scary-looking, but not bad. She felt safe near him. “Yes, yes, let’s be leaving, please,” A hand slipped down his arm to grab his and she started to walk away, but the prey-creature cried out again. Guilt made her feet heavy until she eventually came to a halt. She wanted to help, but what could she do? She was just a Tenderfoot! “W-What do you think is out there?”

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words; 963
ooc; erugh xD haven’t read through (… again XD) and it ends kinda lamely. But yay a post? 8D
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[Sascha Stark]

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[atrb=background,http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i319/sketchedesigns/saschabg.png] “It doesn’t make any sense to me either, Sir.” Sir? Sascha felt himself smiling his goofy, lopsided grin at that, sharp fangs peeking out slightly. He’d never been called Sir, not one day in his life. He’d never met anyone who’d had an ounce of respect for him, except for Casey, though he still had his doubts about their friendship. Perhaps Casey was only using him for something. Sascha immediately felt guilty for the thought and his brow furrowed in shame that he had thought that about his friend. Though he barely knew the auburn haired man he held him in high regard. “Calling me Sascha, ElisabethRamsey. Please to be not calling me Sir.” He pasued, cracking a grin again. “Fetita, it mean...little girl. But you, you are not so little. Yes, yes, I will calling you Elisabeth.” Sascha clapped once and chuckled softly, happy to have made a new acquaintance that he hoped to soon call friend. But this Elisabeth, her face was a mystery to him. One moment, she seemed angry and yelled at him. The next she seemed almost to want to cry, with the tears and the quivering lip and the soft little snuffles. Sascha felt his heart break for the little girl as he saw his own pain and fear and sorrow reflected in her face, though he didn’t make the connection that she was seeing into his thoughts or that she could read his mind. He thought only she had a sadness in her that perhaps she could not escape, not unlike himself, but found it suddenly unnecessary to think on it when another snarl rang out and the younger girl turned and hid her face in his shirt, pulling one of his wings to wrap around her as protection. He looked down at her with a soft gasp of surprise at her sudden acceptance of his deformities, green eyes softening with affection as he wrapped an arm around her front, suddenly protective of her. Her stuttered words and the snarling of the beast left his heart hammering in his chest as he thought of facing whatever danger lurked out there. Why did he always find himself in situations where he was the only one to help? This girl was obviously too young to fight off whatever was out there alone, but Sascha held back the rising sense of doubt and dread in his stomach. He was no fighter, not by any means - he abhorred violence but seemed to be in a world where it was the norm. He knew now that most sought violence as an answer to their need for survival, but he still couldn’t quite bring himself to be as ruthless as many of the souls here were. Including the one harming that poor innocent little prey animal. “I do not know.” He chanced a look down at Elisabeth, only seeing the top of her quivering head. He bit at his lip nervously. “Are you scared?” He asked almost timidly, egging her into admitting her fear so that he could justify his own terror. “Do not being afraid...” He murmured, casting another fearful glance out at the oasis. "Sascha is here." There was a sudden explosion of noise - a terrible uproar, of flapping wings and loud splashes; a duck was dragging itself along the water in a mad rush, wings slapping on the water in attempts to escape the beast that loped behind it, jaws snapping just inches away. The duck continued with it’s terrified honking, the wolf just inches behind with its guttural growls and grunts. It seemed to go on for ages when in fact it was one long, painful minute of watching and waiting for the inevitable Sascha screwed his eyes shut and covered Elisabeth’s eyes with his other wing as he saw the wolf close in. He heard a loud, desperate quack that was cut off abruptly as the wolf’s teeth sank into the poor animal’s neck. The wolf noticed them, then, and Sascha grabbed Elisabeth up, tucked her under one arm and began backing away, spreading his wings in preparing for escape. The wolf’s ears laid back on its broad head, the duck dangling limply in its jaws. It backed slowly away before skirting the two, tail tucked between its legs. Clearly it’d never seen something like the strange anthro and thought best to leave well enough alone and get the hell out while it still had dinner. Sascha breathed a sigh of relief, though he still wouldn’t put Lissy down until the wolf was well out of sight and mind. "Okay, woof is gone now." He placed her down and patted her head, his mind still reeling from seeing a wolf. He prayed that it hadn’t been one of his brothers, and luckily whatever god had been listening answered it. The wolf was just a wolf, nothing more. Even so - the hulking thing had left Sascha scared and trembling. Sascha sighed and walked to the waters edge, peering at his reflection in the shallows. He was about to speak when he heard the soft cheeping of a baby animal. “You hearing that?” Sascha asked, his eyes round with worry. “Sound like it hurted. Come, come. We go look.” Sascha motioned to the girl and hurried toward the bushes not too far off that clustered around the waters edge and pushed his way through. The chirps grew louder as he parted the thick plants and ducked underneath a few branches, surprised to find a small little duckling, flipped on its back and chirping helplessly for its mother. Sascha’s breath knotted in his throat as he kneeled next to the poor duckling, cupping it gently in his hands. It flailed for a moment before tiring, soft brown eyes pleading with him, small downy chest heaving. One of its webbed feet was bloody and torn. Sascha clucked softly to it, cooing to hush its worries, cradling it gently in both hands and working his way back out to Elisabeth. “Look,” he murmured, voice cracking with sadness as he pointed to its wounded leg. “Is...is hurt.” - - - - - replytimefail ;c

[Elisabeth Ramsey]

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[atrb=background,http://usera.imagecave.com/Ravenz/sixingold/lissy2.jpg] His heartbeat was much too fast, but then she supposed hers was, too. She tensed at first when his arm went around her, but at the feeling of affection and softness (from his touch? Or thoughts?) she relaxed. Her head was beginning to throb with the effort of sorting through not just her own mind but his, and the stream of thoughts became wilder and more unpredictable. Elisabeth didn’t have enough time to be sad for him when he was surprised that someone wasn’t afraid to touch him, to hug him. He was now thinking of violent things, making her shiver. … as ruthless as many of the souls here… She stared at the ground, the sentence replaying over and over in her tired head. Surely he was mistaken; all the people she’d met were kind! Or most, anyway. Just a few Carna were out of line. It was a sign of acceptance that someone else was doing thinking for her that she didn’t question that it had come from Sascha. Her chin jerked up automatically when he spoke, her innocent blue eyes unabashedly looking into his green ones. “Are you scared? Do not be afraid.” She almost giggled at the contradicting emotions coming from him, but realized that it wouldn’t be the best way to answer the question. Still, she smiled. His last words were not as comforting as he’d meant them to be, but she did feel safer. “Yes, I’m scared. But you’re safe,” Her voice was sincere. What sane creature would attack Sascha? He had huge wings that were still a little frightening to Elisabeth, even though she’d wrapped herself in one of them. She still let out a small scream when the flurry of movement was as abruptly cut off from her vision as she saw it—he had his wing over her eyes! The effort, if it was to keep her from seeing what was happening, was in vain. She sucked in a breath as Sascha’s thoughts took dominance over her own stilled ones, showing bits and pieces of the scene playing out before them. She didn’t catch much; a wolf’s gleaming eyes, a duck’s broken-off cry, a trail of down… The shifter gave a squeak of protest when her feet were swept out from under her. The wolf was absent from her mind; instead she felt wide, powerful wings expand in preparation for a getaway. Elisabeth squirmed in his arms. She could fly, too! But she was standing back on her own two feet soon. “Okay, woof is gone now.” “Oh. Good…” She was a little dazed, blinking in the suddenly bright sun. It didn’t help that the word ‘wolf’ wouldn’t stop wandering through her head, sometimes switching out for ‘woof.’ She followed him for a few wary steps when he went to investigate the source of the cry, but the pressure in her head increased and she sat down with a groan. She had a few moments of peace when he was out of range, but the noise and intrusion was back full-blast when he returned. It was frustrating—she felt the presence of his mind, but heard less than a quarter of his thoughts. It seemed a little unfair to her; if her head was going to hurt anyway, why not let her know the rest of what he was thinking? A small quack redirected her pity. She leaned over to look at what Sascha was cupping in his hands, and fell back in horror when she did. “Omigosh, omigosh, it’s okay, you’re all right, you’ll be fine,” Elisabeth fumbled with the bottom of her blouse, untying it from where it still sat above her bellybutton (it was still tied! She blushed, but Sascha didn’t seem to have cared about her exposed stomach) and ripping off a small piece. It had a splatter of Noah’s blood on it, ironically enough. She did her best to wrap its destroyed foot up, but her fingers shook whenever it made a sound, which it did quite often. It might’ve even tried to nip her once, though it was too weak to move much. “Please don’t cry.” Déjà vu? --- words; 693 ooc; eek, sloppy post x’D

[Sascha Stark]

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[atrb=background,http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i319/sketchedesigns/saschabg.png] Sascha looked on worriedly as Elisabeth un-cinched her shirt from, though he hadn’t noticed that her midriff had been exposed and the brief flash of soft white flesh made him think of her - but no, he wouldn’t. Not right now - not...not ever again. tried to wrap the baby’s little waggling, webbed foot, sickened at the sight of the warm blood as it pooled and dripped onto his cupped hands. The little cheepy thing fought her off the best it could, in fear more than anything Sascha guessed. “Careful,” he warned when the little creature tried to escape in some kamikaze attempt to rescue itself. Though preoccupied with the injured duckling, he noticed with slight concern that his new friend se med fatigued; her face seemed slightly haggard. If he’d had a spare hand he would’ve lain it on her shoulder, in some small attempt at comfort. But the tiny little animal absorbed him again, a wave of dizziness washing over him. He pitched forward suddenly, stars flashing, his ears buzzing with a slight, distant ring. Sascha grunted as the feeling left, his breath catching in his throat as it came again, and again, seeming to rack his body in a shuddering drain. The duckling had stopped flailing, its deep brown eyes wide with shock, beak hung open in a silent chirp as warmth spread through its tiny body. Both were cast into a strange realm of subdued silence as the energy pulsed between them in an almost palpable connection. The winged man fell to his knees, thoroughly winded and feeling quite sick. The duckling, with its legs splayed stiff and frozen in the air, soft downy chest fluffed with effort. Sascha stared down in amazement at the small webbed foot. Before it had been torn and shredded and blood had poured from the wound. But now, now it was healed! Completely! There was only blood left, and quickly drying. How! He! This was!“I...I am magic maker, too?!” He gasped as he began to get his wits about him again, only to have them scattered in the breeze as he wondered at what magic he had attained. Casey! It had been Casey! His magicks, they must be...contagious. He had absorbed Casey’s magic powers! It was the only way to explain what had happened - how one minute the duckling was bleeding and the next...it wasn’t! The same thing Casey had done for his arm back in the Inn. Hm. A soft blush rose to his cheeks as he thought on Casey and the unexpected kiss. He frowned slightly, remembering the long haired man...Damian, he was called...how angry he had looked. But he looked back to Elisabeth, wide, pale green eyes shocked. “Did you seeing that, ElisabethRamsey? Is MAGIC!” He gasped, pulling on the little ducklings leg. "I am...I am MagicMan!" He plopped down on his butt in the sand, adjusting his cumbersome wings to allow it. Sascha put the baby duck in his lap, his thoughts stumbling. "We shall call him Pui." He nodded, holding the duckling in one hand and peering at it. It pecked indignantly at his nose and he pulled back, brows furrowed. "Is not nice, Pui! No bite." Maybe he didn't like his name - but it was so fitting! "Pui, it meaning the chicken. Nice name, good name, for little chickadee." Sascha held Pui out to Elisabeth and laughed as he chirped happily and jumped out of his hands right into her arms. "Pui, he liking you!" - - - - - pls shoot me