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Post by Kalas Lith'ard on Mar 12, 2010 23:34:28 GMT -5
It was dark in the forest today, just as it was yesterday and the day before. It was something this forest was famous for, after all; the darkness that covered the place like a giant blanket. Kalas did so like blankets.
It had been almost a year since she'd left this place for another one of her little adventures, and she'd almost forgotten where she lived. "Was it this way..? No, there was a different tree there, I remember..." Oh, if only she hadn't used flowers as her landmarks last time! Such transient things, and not guaranteed to leave more flowers in their wake when they died. She raised her little handmade lamp carefully, a little stick cage magically lit from within; it shone just brightly enough to show the trees around her.
Perhaps it was this way...that green patch seemed somewhat promising.
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Post by Ashton Fawkes on Mar 13, 2010 0:08:18 GMT -5
It was dark, yes, and that was part of the reason why Ashton was here to begin with (at least he thought so).
The other reason being he was lost... Right?
But really, lost was completely relative, considering he had no home to call his own, and considering that he'd actually just woken up here, the sound of footsteps stirring him from a dead sleep like one would expect the sound of thunder to do.
He jolted upright as the light hit him, a bad idea in hindsight considering he'd apparently been unconscious due to the unfortunate meeting of his forehead and a low lying branch, if the throbbing in his head was any indication. He reached his hand up, feeling for blood, and indeed there was some, a crust down the side of his face and he tasted dirt in his mouth, but his focus was on the light that shone nearby and the Fey that was illuminated by it.
There was a whisper in his head, a steadily growing static noise as the paranoia rose and then it was gone, just like that, eyes darting away from the Fey to the side as if he'd seen something, then right back to her as he pushed himself up to stand, leaning heavily against the tree (his apparent assailant), silent. Waiting.
Maybe she hadn't seen him. |
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Post by Kalas Lith'ard on Mar 13, 2010 0:20:47 GMT -5
What was this? Another fey! It wasn't very often that she'd come upon someone this deep in the forest. Was it deep? She wasn't sure, but she felt like it should be. A flash of worry crossed her face as she noticed the blood on his, and she started to come closer, but--oh, how confused she suddenly felt. Was it fear? No, not fear. Was it? The girl tensed, stiffened, feeling the urge to do just as the other was, to turn out the light and hide in the shadows and hope he hadn't seen her.
And indeed, the light was quickly snuffed out, being magical and easily taken care of; but what point was there in hiding? It was hard not to notice a fey with a light in a place like this. She took a few calming breaths, still unsettled, still tense, but slightly less so, and gave herself another moment to light the lamp again.
A step forward then. Her eyes shone a blackened yellow in the light, her expression slightly nervous as she looked once again at the stranger. "...Would you like some help?"
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Post by Ashton Fawkes on Mar 13, 2010 0:31:03 GMT -5
The sudden darkness left spots over Ashton's vision, and when after only after a few moments it was relit, it found him shifted to the side a bit, as if he'd been ready to leave. Her voice was an echo in his head and he pressed back against the bark of the tree, something indiscernible coming from his lips to which he actually responded with a harshly whispered 'SHUT UP she'llhearyou!'.
He lowered his head, enough to look at her from under a fall of unkempt and dirty blood colored hair (oh it matched the crust on the side of his face, didn't it?), but the look shifted quickly from one of fear to one of a wary sort of disdain. "The hell would I need help from you for?"
No, she can't help you because you're so HELPLESS.
He grit his teeth, and looked a wild thing as dirty fingernails dug slightly into the bark of the tree, a cornered animal as he pulled his cloak tighter about his shoulders. |
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Post by Kalas Lith'ard on Mar 13, 2010 0:49:05 GMT -5
He seemed so bothered. Worried? No, scared. And who was he talking to? An invisible companion? She couldn't bring herself to ask. A little hint of pink started to join the swirl of color in her eyes, but Kalas had already had her calming breaths and there was nothing for it but to steel herself and keep going.
The rudeness wasn't helping.
"You've got blood on you...I could offer healing or bandages if you'd like." What else would he need help from her for? Unless he was hungry. She could probably feed him if he wanted...but he seemed too....tense? Or maybe something else. Either way, he seemed like he might not accept an offer like that.
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Post by Ashton Fawkes on Mar 13, 2010 1:02:43 GMT -5
"So?" he retorted, and it was then that his wings spread open, tattered, ragged things, though he stood like an animal ready to bolt or fight, taking a slinking step off to the side as if just to see how she would react.
"I don't fuckin' know you," he nearly hissed out, eyes narrowing as he watched her through his lashes, dull green and white, "you could be with them!"
Who were they?
Maybe he didn't know either.
He did know that her hair was made of fire, though. He didn't think he should tell her. He wondered if she'd start to see it too soon (probably, or see something, they all did). |
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Post by Kalas Lith'ard on Mar 13, 2010 13:39:39 GMT -5
Poor thing, so injured, so alone, so dangerous to her psyche. She watched him move away, trying to ignore the emotions swirling underneath her already cracking shield of calm. "I'm sure I'm not with them. I'm not with anyone but myself." As if to prove this point, she looked around, her eyes finding no one else in the vicinity.
Perhaps he meant something else.
She was starting to think, though, that offering help to him was not the best idea she'd had, but she'd already done it and didn't want to back down. Maybe he was just tired, and needed a nap. Or maybe it was the pain from his wound that bothered him so much.
Though it was obvious there was something more wrong with him than that.
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Post by Ashton Fawkes on Mar 13, 2010 14:46:09 GMT -5
She seemed just too naive, an easy kill, and something clamored for attention in the back of Ashton's head but the way her hair danced was just a little too fascinating to pay it any mind. He didn't trust her still, not as far as he could throw her, and considering he wasn't exactly a warrior type that probably wouldn't have been very far at all.
"Can you see the world burn?" he hissed out, didn't realize he was using more than words and he licked his lips (dry, cracked), because the firelight was flickering in his eyes and it was crazy.
Something wrong, something right. The corners of his lips upturned, a slow stretch of an eerie grin on a bruised and bloody face. Who knew what she would see, when, where, upside down and backwards but her hair was still fire to him. |
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Post by Kalas Lith'ard on Mar 13, 2010 15:13:55 GMT -5
This was dangerous, wasn't it? She could feel something wrong, so very wrong, and the trees were starting to fall one by one, giant things creaking and crashing and hitting one another as they collapsed--
And yet here she stood, a blank expression on her face, as if her mind had left her body behind. Would she be crushed under one of these trees, standing motionless as she was? And the stranger would be crushed too, crushed by her own house in this horrible crashing mess. She stared up, up at the far away canopy of trees, could actually see a patch of blue sky where once there had been leaves, and wondered, in a scared yet detached sort of way, how long it would be before she fell herself.
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Post by Ashton Fawkes on Mar 13, 2010 15:21:59 GMT -5
Oh yes, he could see it, see it as she lifted her head that she wasn't seeing what he was. But she was seeing something, and Ashton felt a ripple, a silence flooding his mind for a moment of clarity and the whole thing stopped.
At some point her hair had gone out, had become hair again (though not before the flames had given her a mustache and he'd almost laughed out loud), and the curve of his lips dropped sharply into a frown, his good eye seeming a temporarily brighter shade, as if he'd come up out of it.
"Who are you."
It just seemed like the thing to say, not really vocalized as a question at all. |
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Post by Kalas Lith'ard on Mar 13, 2010 15:39:46 GMT -5
Oh.
The trees were back. The world was dark again, back to normal, and she was still in one piece. A few tears chose now to leak out, tears of relief perhaps, and she wiped them away with the edge of a scarf before looking at the stranger again.
Who was she, he asked? Who was he? But no, why ask? No reason to ask. Or perhaps every reason, but who was she to follow reason? "I am Kalas. Who are you?"
And that was all.
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Post by Ashton Fawkes on Mar 13, 2010 15:52:09 GMT -5
"Broken," was Ashton's answer, and he straightened, stretching those wretched tatters of wings and scratching at the crust of blood on the side of his head. She had cried, though not as much as some, but she hadn't screamed, she hadn't collapsed, and she hadn't come at him.
It must not have been too bad.
"I don't trust you," he vocalized, threw out there because he wanted her to know it, even though she was such an innocent, naive little unthreatening thing. But there were days when he didn't trust the ground he walked on, didn't trust his own reflection, so not trusting her wasn't too far a stretch. Funny though, that she had far more reason not to trust him, and he drew the hood of his cloak up over his head as if it would keep her out of it.
It was starting to waver again, so very slightly. |
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Post by Kalas Lith'ard on Mar 13, 2010 16:53:00 GMT -5
Was Broken his name? It didn't really matter, as she'd call him that until told otherwise. She wasn't sure what had happened, but the world was fixed and he was still unhappy, tainted, broken like his name described.
Was it possible to fix such a creature, with tattered wings and half a soul? How could a soul be fixed, anyway? She frowned again, face no longer blank, and looked more hurt than she should be. Or was it less hurt? Emotions were so troublesome, mixed in with her own, and she never had been able to learn what proper feelings were.
She should be scared, perhaps. Or maybe that was Broken's feelings again. Oh, but who cared how she felt right now anyway? Better not to think on that. "I haven't done anything to prove your trust. But I haven't done anything to break it, either." Don't be so stubborn, she thought, and she wasn't sure who the reprimand was directed at.
Maybe it was for both of them.
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Post by Ashton Fawkes on Mar 13, 2010 17:22:22 GMT -5
Ashton was starting to feel jittery, maybe nervous, and he watched her carefully still through the fall of his bangs. She had a point, but it wasn't on he agreed with. Why would you trust someone in the first place without a reason to?
And she seemed to think it was fine to trust someone without a reason not to.
KILL HER and the hand that had been digging into the bark of the tree behind him dropped to the knife in his belt, a gleam of metal in the light of her lamp, but he only fingered the edge, barely light enough not to get cut. His eyes seemed to go vacant, though, flickering in and out of focusyouwantit as he moved, slowly, sidestepping from where he'd leaned against the tree and taking an arched path to curve like he was going to circle her.
He wasn't sure.
Do it before she does!
"SHUT UP."
But he wasn't looking at her when he said it. |
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Post by Kalas Lith'ard on Mar 13, 2010 17:48:10 GMT -5
She started at that, multicolored eyes widening in a mixture of surprise and confusion and feelings that didn't fit. Did he mean her? Someone else? Hadn't he done this before, with a mysterious voice she couldn't hear? Perhaps that was it. But he had a knife, it seemed, and a knife in the hands of a man with half a soul was almost as dangerous as a man with a whole one. Would he hurt her? Could he hurt her? She felt the urge to back away, take at least one step behind her, but the urge was mixed with another one that wanted to move forward and hurt him before he hurt her, and it was best to stay still in situations like this, wasn't it?
She stood still, then, silent, and watched him move. He wouldn't hurt her if she didn't move, and she could keep herself from hurting him. (Not that she could hurt him anyway.)
...What sort of reasoning was this?
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