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Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy roleplaying forum! We strive for creative, free-form roleplaying, in the hopes of allowing each and every single member the power to achieve their potential.
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| Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy forum! We're always looking for new, dedicated members. Elenlond is composed of two continents: Soare and Esiria. Esiria, a land now isolated due to the efforts of the last remaining Goddess, is inaccessible to all beings and lies in the east. Soare, a continent in the west, is composed of three distinct nations: Ashoka, Soto, and Morrim. Lying between the two major continents are the Scattered Isles. Since the dissolution of the pantheon and the fall of the gods, these countries have existed in relative peace and prosperity. But how long will that peace last? Enter Elenlond; Turn the pages and tell your own tale. If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
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| Topic Started: Jul 29 2009, 07:17 PM (123 Views) | |
| Lunatryx | Jul 29 2009, 07:17 PM Post #1 |
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Hunger was a monster, ripping at her insides while she made her way down the eerily empty street. All the houses and shops were sealed up tightly, curtained windows like dead eyes watching her pass, dragging her bare feet on the tightly packed dirt of the rode while the first feeble rays of daylight began to murder the stars. The moon, moments before, had made a hasty retreat behind the horizon as if she had known of the mornings onslaught of darkness-devouring life. The sun was just rising up to kiss the horizon hello, sending flesh-red light cascading through the desolate streets of the small town. An alley cat yowled, a rooster crowed, and the dragging steps stopped. Her pale, long fingered hand rose up, shielding indigo eyes from the face of the sun even as she looked out at the horizon. The sky was turning blue, always a pleasant surprise for the slave who not only was permanently cold, but had lived in perpetual storms until just recently. She took a deep breath of the warming, dry air, and exhaled it as a sigh. Down the street she could hear the snort and scuffle of horses, waking up all frisky for a fresh day. She approached this house with her feet dragging, tired and hungry, her body was clothed in the most threadbare of rags, barely making her decent. Her pale skin was unnatural, but even more disturbing was the terrible thinness, her ribs easily counted even from a distance. Soon the people would be coming out and she would retreat like a frightened animal to hide in alleyways and lurk in shadows, her eyes glowing blue as a monster's might. She wanted to sleep, but every time her eyes closed she was hurled back into master's arms, sadistic laughter and the sort of memories you like to pretend really were nothing more than bad dreams. The swish of long coarse tails flicking flies and thundering hooves greeted her as she rested her elbows on the fence and allowed herself a moments rest, watching the long-legged beasts thunder around their corral, young gangling colts running on spindly legs beside their mothers. There were two colts, two mares and one proud stallion to oversee them all. It was a small town, so the vastness of their coral caused no trouble to all those others living around them. Smoke was starting the appear, billowing from chimneys while curtains were cast aside and windows were thrown open to welcome in the light. Lunatryx's eyes caught on the water trough one mare had frisked over to drink from, its whole long face thrust into the cool but slightly dirty water. Lunatryx licked her lips, her mouth was unbearably dry. Her stomach was assaulted by a wave of brief stomach pain from hunger and she didn't her best to ignore it, swinging her body over the fence and approaching the drinking horse slowly. The cream colored mare lifted her head to stare at Lunatryx, water dribbling from her lips and she snorted and tossed her head. Even as the horse eyed her, Lunatryx stepped closer, “I...I'm thirsty.” her voice was quiet, a broken whisper, and the horse tossed her head and neighed. Lunatryx hoped that was an 'okay' as she moved over and knelt down, her hand gripping the edge of the trough while she drank greedily from the cool water. Behind her a colt trotted up, tail swaying too and fro, flicking flies off his shiny gray coat. He nudged her back hard, making her look back. Her lips twitched, a surprisingly painful action as she smiled weakly at the youthful horse. People were starting to come of their houses, emptying chamber pots and checking on livestock. She was reluctant to leave the water but was even more reluctant to linger in such an open place. She scratched the colt behind his ears, stroking the white star on his forehead with surprisingly gentle hands. He nuzzle her bony side with his velvety nose. She lingered just a moment to enjoy the animal's company, before vaulting over the fence once more. She needed to leave, to head back into shadowed alleyways and gutter-streets the townsfolk did their best to avoid. The colt, to her surprise, stood at the fence and called for her, pawing the ground as if upset. Lunatryx looked back, hesitating as she eyed the silvery colt, his eyes beckoning her back. She shook her head no at him, sparks dancing off the fiery strands as she turned away once more and began walking towards the nearest desolate place she could see; an empty house with broken out windows just down the opposite street. Perhaps, she could sleep there, amongst rats and cobwebs, but she doubted very much anything but collapsing from exhaustion could send her into the hellish land of dreams willingly. |
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| James Ryder | Jul 31 2009, 02:45 PM Post #2 |
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They huddled together, a fifteen-year-old boy and a sixteen-year-old girl, out and away from the rest of the enslaved. Their whisperings were frantic, the two heads brought together, but not because they were plotting an escape or a coup. No, with lips locked in a passionate gesture, it was the only solitude they could find from their fellow slaves, this small, dark corner, in the middle of the night. James' hand was intwined in her greasy brown hair, her own cupping his jaw. With hormones raging and a loneliness that none should ever know, the two expressed the only love they had ever known to one another, deciding to commit to one of those most sacred and sensual acts ever devised. They broke apart for a moment, the girl's dark brown eyes shining as she stared into James' grey ones. Their breathing was heavy, desire and lust passing across flustered faces. They hadn't the slightest clue what they were doing. "I love you, James." "I..." he paused, glancing back. Most of the other slaves were asleep. "I... Love you too, Ari." Their lips locked again and, as they fell to the floor, him on top of her, they began to tug at clothing, a sense of urgency in their movements. As the throes of passion began to grip the two of them, there was a shuffling from behind. The two froze, panic passing aross their faces as they pulled back, to stare at one another. Panic became horror as lanterns suddenly shone into the room. The slavedriver and several of the household nobles marched in. Like frigthened deer the two split apart, but not before the slavedriver had grabbed the redhead by the collar of his shirt, and one noble, the Master of the Household, had grabbed the girl. The slavedriver used his free hand to force James to look at him. "What d'you think you were doin' with the girl, slave?" "N-n-nothing..." "Didn't look like nothin' to me." James swallowed. The driver's eyes glanced towards the Master's. They nodded in unison to one another before the Master declared, much to James' horror: "Execute the girl." James sat before a small grave - only about a foot by foot in size - with a small cross fashioned out of twigs. Eyes swollen and red from sobbing, all he could do was stare at the little plot of land that he'd made for her, that he'd used a spade to create and then re-filled with the dirt that had come out of it. It had been almost a week, but the following day after their declaration, he had stood and watched them beat her to death, using whatever object they could find for a weapon - willow switches, a whip, kitchen utensils, whatever had been within grasp. When the girl had finally passed out from blood loss and pain, and then had finally passed on, her breathing slowing until her heart stopped and her brain shut down, James had watched as they carried her off of the estate, was made to follow as they tossed her body into the nearest ditch. There she was left, to rot to death. He had cried in silence, for making a sound would have led to a beating of his own. "Do you see what happens when you fool around, boy?" the Master of the Estate had asked, glowering. It had taken everything James had had to nod. "I'll never forget you," he whispered quietly, standing as the driver called out to them to return to work. "I hope you remember me... Wherever you are." The werewolf had torn across the earth with a mind that was both human and animal, running for hours, gaining more and more distance on the old manor. The moon, slowly becoming a crescent moon, was to a point where he could control some of his actions, but not quite all of them. The blood lust was painfully obvious, and even his human self longed for it. Tonight he had managed to satiate that desire by raiding a farmer's cattle. Three of the large creatures had fallen, each one only partially devoured as his mind swapped from animalistic brutality to human horror. When he had had his fill he had fled, just as Dawn's rays were beginning to rise over the horizon. There was perhaps one advantage to becoming a wolf each night: James rarely, if ever, went hungry. As Dawn's fingers touched his furry head, the werewolf padded into the small town, moving quickly and quietly. It was easy not to knock things over or to make noise as he walked alongside the small fences of the houses for he lacked a tail, a strange attribute to an otherwise normal enough looking wolf. Coming upon an old building that looked exceptionally run-down and dingy, he sniffed at it, walking around it, as if to ensure that it wasn't going to collapse or disappear; he came to the conclusion that it was abandoned. It was, however, the best place, especially for a beast who could feel the beginnings of a familiar tingling beneath the skin, and without any other questions asked, he padded inside and continued up the stairs, to the second floor of the broken home. As he reached one of the abandoned bedrooms the transformation hit and, with a pained yowl, James felt the fur begin to recede from his body, felt his bones beginning to realign and reshape themselves, lean muscle becoming simply flesh. By the end of it he was curled on his side, gasping for air, his face squinched tight in pain. His grey eyes flew open, however, when the creaking sound of someone entering the house below caught his attention. Struggling to push himself up - he was physically and mentally exhausted - he froze midway, shaking. Maybe this house wasn't completely abandoned. And if not...? He didn't think he'd survive the fall out of the window. |
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| Lunatryx | Aug 2 2009, 08:36 PM Post #3 |
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The fence she walked slowly past, feet dragging, the sound of which was barely inaudible over the music of morning. Animals rising from slumber, children whining, begging stern parents for more time in bed. Lunatryx heard all this as if she were in a tunnel, somehow separate from this whole vast world, yet still privy to all that happened around her. The fence was broken, run down and missing pieces. The house itself was all peeling baby blue paint and patches of rotting wound; broken glass glittered on the ground of the front yard which was all patches of hard dirt and rough patches of brown dead grass. A single black plumed crow landed on the crumbling chimney and sang his death song, looking down on her with obsidian eyes. Her own eyes were on the ground in front of her, no longer aware of her surroundings as she walked like one in a trance. Hungry, exhausted, and desperate for sanctuary, she glanced up when she stood in front of the house, turning to face it. Two upstairs windows faced the street, broken out and dark they appeared like blank eyes gawking at the distant horizon. The front door hung on one hinge, a crooked mouth for a wonky face- had that been a wolf she'd glimpsed, passing through the gaping maw of the broken home? She thought so, glimpsing the familiar fur but frowning. It had been lacking a tail, or at least she thought it had been. She tilted her head, that split second had offered the sense of having seen a ghost, or perhaps an object of a tormented mind. Regardless, but surprisingly, she headed tentatively down the path. All her muscles were rigid, but she was right-beneath her feet the dust was marked with paw prints. What was wrong with her? Wolves killed things- did she want to die? To be undone completely into sheer nothing. What did it feel like the cease to exist? The single hinge supporting the door creaked loudly as her hands pressed the rotten door-wood and pushed. It scraped loudly against the floor, and he looked around at the cobwebs and overturned furniture. All things of value had been filched long before her chancing upon the place, nothing left but dust, glass, and fat worm-tailed rats. Dust sunshine seemed to barely make it past the windows, so that only a few feeble, dusty rays dare show her long eerie shadow on the floor. Straight in front of her a crooked staircase was sprawled up, a few steps were broken through but judging from the paw tracks of dirt across them, they could still hold the weight of a large carnivorous canine, and thus should support the frame of a starving, short female slave. She tested the theory, shaking her bangs from her eyes in a shower of sparks before venturing higher. One step creaked beneath her foot, but even as it did so a horrible sound made her clap her hands over her ears. Utter agony, the sound an animal makes while being slowly skinned alive. It was such a heart wrenching sound that she felt a literal ache in her chest- it was a familiar noise where she came from, where cruelty knew no bounds, but that only made it twice as unwelcome. She hesitated, did she really want to venture up these remaining steps? Suddenly swift, she took the last length of stairway without real thought. She did want to see this creature, whatever it was- perhaps she could help it? No, she doubted she had the guts to do such a thing, but at least she wanted to see it. One empty indigo eye, feeble fire within peered around the corner to see not a ferocious beast, but a man no better off than herself. Indigo bangs fell into her eyes as she watched, fascinated. He had flaming red hair- was he a fauxinian? No, he lacked countless other characteristics. He was trembling, the way she was even now as the beast named hunger clawed at her stomach. Below, a gust of sudden wind threw the crooked door open further, banging it into the wall. She did not know is this man-wolf- whatever he was, had seen her. Perhaps he looked past her, or through her- maybe he was blind, or, possibly, he hadn't turned his head at all. Maybe he was just a figment of her imagination. All she knew was that her eyes met with pale gray for a split second and a small gasp left her lips. She whipped around in a shower of sparks and did her best to hurry back down the stairs. Crying out, she stumbled and fell down the last half, frail body thrown down the steepness to lay in a heap with the broken glass at the bottom. She gasped, rising up with pain in her eyes as she looked at the jagged clear pieces embedded in her paper-white skin. She struggled up, looking back over her shoulder in fear that the man would be angry- perhaps this was his house, and she was intruding? Or maybe he was just as sadistic as master and needed no reason besides ones presence to thrash or beat them. (OOC: No dialogue :x sorry) |
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| James Ryder | Aug 4 2009, 10:58 AM Post #4 |
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Some sort of creature - a girl, he thought - appeared along his line of sight, causing him to freeze in place, his eyes wide. He had only a moment to study her as her indigo eyes met with his before she turned and fled, frightened of him. Had she seen the transformation? Had she seen the wolf become a man, not knowing that that wolf was extremely dangerous and liable to tear her apart if she came too close? It was a blessing, at least, that the moon was quickly returning to its new status, affording enough control over himself that he could hunt for animals instead of people. What he would have done, however, if someone had approached him as a wolf willingly he did not know - and wasn't particularly keen on finding out, either. James pulled himself into a seated position, watching the stairs, listening to the sound of her terrified flight down them. He would have been slow to stand and to look for her if he hadn't heard the sudden crash of her falling down them. Both startled and suddenly concerned, he staggered to his feet and ran for the stairs, nearly taking a tumble down them himself. He managed to retain his balance, however, as he moved down them as quickly as his frail body would allow. When he reached the last stair his arm shot out to steady himself, the other hand to his mouth. The werewolf gasped. The girl lay in a heap, staring up at him wildly, terrified. The hand that had been at his mouth reached out, slowly, as he carefully stepped onto the floor. His feet, rough and calloused, hardly felt the glass beneath them, but that didn't stop him from exercising the utmost caution. He kept his distance, however, knowing that he could frighten her at any moment. Seeing her, looking over her, glancing back at the sparks that had settled on the floor above, James knew that she was different, and in some ways he knew in what ways she was. If ever he recognized the tortured soul of a slave, it was now. He knew that he was not nearly as skittish as she was, but that he was very close to being that way; the difference here was that she didn't seem to realize that he had been branded much the same way she had. James crouched in front of her, his hand retracting to himself. He watched her, face covered in grime, body looking as though it had seen better days. Since his first true transformation he'd gained some semblance of muscle and fat on his body, but not enough to distinguish him from a slave. "Are you ok?" James asked quietly, softly, trying not to startle her. "Do you need help? You have... glass embedded in your skin." He wanted to reach out to her but he knew better. If she decided to run he wouldn't be able to stop her. As it was, it was taking all he had to stay functional and awake. |
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| Lunatryx | Aug 7 2009, 12:40 PM Post #5 |
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Pain and fear were all that was reflected in deep blue eyes. She was dizzy from hitting her head against the stairs in her fall, but even then she struggled trying to stand up to flee the potential danger. A few more slivers of wicked clear sharpness embedded themselves in her flesh, but her black blood would not catch fire until the pieces were removed. She was laying in one of very few pale patches of dusty morning sunlight, but even as he crouched beside her she managed to struggle to her feet. To her dismay he blocked her patch to the door, so instead she skittered over to hide behind an overturned table, tripping over a two-legged chair and collapsing behind it. He hugged her knees, peering around the edge and saying in a shaky, terrified voice, “I-I'm sorry, I didn't know th-this was your house- I thought it was empty s-so I just...” She trailed off, her hair falling in her face as she peeked around the edge of the table at him. He had spoken to her- in her panic she had not comprehended but not she could recall his quiet voice asking her if she needed any help, mentioning pointedly to slivers of glassed piercing her. Her eyes glowed in the dimness, crystalline blue in the darkness of the dusty and forgotten house. She set a hand on the floor, more of her face coming into view. A rat squealed as her hand touched its long worm tail and it whipped around, long yellow teeth biting her hand, making her gasp and recoil it, disappearing once more behind the broken wood as the light of a sudden brief fire appeared, making her cry out before it dissipated to show perfectly heeled skin. Quietly, her whole frame hidden from view, she asked uncertainly, “Are... are you a slave t-too?” It was still a frightening aspect, what if he turned her in for the reward that would no doubt come? As a slave she knew that where she was born there was no honor amongst her social class. In order to further ones own goals or personal safety it was considered acceptable to turn in a fellow slave, even if it meant a thrashing or potential death. Something in his pale gray eyes had seemed honest though. She picked a piece of the glass from her skin and let out a small noise as the blood caught fire. Only thirty-nine or so more shards to go. |
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| James Ryder | Aug 10 2009, 01:45 PM Post #6 |
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James watched her flee, wondering how someone could treat another creature so terribly that it fled at the sight of other people. True, he didn't like people either, but when you were the only one in the world and you had to try to make it somehow, with only the clothes on your back and the scars on your body, it was better to talk to people than it was to avoid them. Someone must have beaten this poor girl into complete submission, leaving her with nothing emotionally. Or perhaps that was a part of him speaking that had just risen, a part of him that had a little more fight to it than his personality usually allowed. In any case, he remained where he was, crouched, watching the overturned table. The werewolf flinched each time she cried out, a natural reaction to the sound of other women being beaten and, especially, the death of Ari. "This isn't my house. I don't know whose house it is," he said quietly, before she asked her question. When she did, he paused for a moment, wondering how she'd come to the conclusion that he was also a slave when she seemed so terrified of him. Surely, if they were the exact same thing, it would, if nothing else, make it easier to talk to one another, having come from the same background with the same sort of atmosphere. James didn't move towards her, however, for fear that he might frighten her. He'd never frightened another creature before - at least, not in his human form, anyway - so it was strange, to see someone so terrified of him that they were hiding, asking muffled questions from behind a barrier. "Yes..." he said finally, standing but still not moving towards her. "I was a slave, anyway..." Could he really call himself one now? James had been free for about six weeks, maybe closer to seven, and the estate he'd been on hadn't come looking for him, apparently. Like most slaves, he was as disposable as the next, and if they lost one it wasn't a big deal. That usually didn't stop them from looking, however, especially if they paid good money for that slave. For this girl to be wandering around, she must have escaped, as a freeperson usually didn't act so... skittish. That thought made him wary. If her master was looking for her and he found them both... Chances were, James would also be re-enslaved. That was the absolute last thing he wanted. "Is your master looking for you?" |
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| Lunatryx | Aug 17 2009, 02:39 PM Post #7 |
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So this wasn't his home. She felt brief relief at the knowledge she had not trespassed, and thus would not experience the punishment for doing so. The pale sunlight, feeble rays that lingered in the dust and dared warm the rotten floor fell across her features and more a moment her eyes lifted, looking outside where a patch of new, blue sky was visible. Just the sight of it was somewhat rewarding. Until she had made her escape, the sky had been nothing but turbulent grays, broken with lightening. The overturned table behind her back hid her emaciated for from view for a few moments longer before movement could be heard. One hand gripped the edge of the table, and the the other, and finally Lunatryx rose up on her knees to peer over it at the man who spoke so gently to her. His eyes were pale gray, a shade that was oddly calming to her frantic heart and pessimistic thoughts. His reply too had served at least as a mild comfort as well. So her guess was right, though lucky, as she had only guessed so because who but a slave would offer another slave help? A few shards lingered in her arm but the rest had be discarded on the floor, the wounds erased by the agonizing but cleansing flames that boiled in her black blood even as she dared rise up a little more, and then standing. Painfully thin, clothed in filthy rags that only barely served to cloth her form. He had been a slave too, he was escaped, or freed? That was a question she could not find the answer too just from looking at him. Mustering up what courage she had not spent in her escape, she moved out from behind the table, and took a few more hesitant steps towards him. It would be so much easier to run, to get past him and disappear out the door. How safe it would be to disappear back into solitary wandering, wasting away in an unfamiliar world. But here was man, who spoke softly, and seemed to mind himself in efforts to not frighten her. She had known him hardly any amount of time, but it was a worthwhile risk if it meant she might have some level of companionship, right? Solitude and dissension had kept her race enslaved. Rare friendships and lovers were made in secret, but had to be kept secret. Unfamiliar individuals had no worth to one another. You lived alone, amongst your fellows, always wary you would be sold out for any misdeed. If she could make a friend, the way normal, free people made friends, would that serve to further her understanding of what she had gained from fleeing? Another hesitant step but her in the danger zone. He was taller, thus had further reach. He could touch her now, but she could not touch him. Normal people would not notice such a thing, but Lunatryx was keenly aware. Her eyes were on the floor, but they rose a moment to meet his again for just a moment, uncertain and frightened. She had approached him the way an abused puppy might, eager for kindness but wary of all, and like one she shied away a little at the sound of his voice. The question constricted her heart, and she shook her head no quickly. It was a lie, he probably was searching for her, but he would not have left the island yet, right? She hoped that was so. If she told this stranger she was being searched for she risked being turned in, though that weakened look of his form made it seem quite possible she could escape, why risk it? Her hands were clasped together, held against her chest while her stomach growled. She seemed to have trouble meeting his eyes, looking up for only a moment or two at a time before turning her gaze back to the floor. Finally she lifted it again and said softly, his blue-streak fire colored hair falling in her indigo eyes. “My..My name is Ae...” She trailed off, and then said, just a little stronger, “M-my name is Lunatryx.” The name spoken was a rich forbidden fruit, and it made her feel a little stronger just speaking it allowed. |
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| James Ryder | Aug 21 2009, 05:41 PM Post #8 |
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He was patient as the girl slowly extracted herself from behind the table. James, from his crouched position, had come to stand. Looking her over, it wasn't difficult to empathize with her situation, the fact that she lacked shoes or even a decent piece of clothing - he too was in the same boat, with only the rags that he'd started his journey with, about five or six weeks ago. The night he'd first transformed was the night that he had lost his shoes, and since then he'd gone without. Being a former slave, where and how was he supposed to find the money to afford such things, especially in a country with feudal law? The peasants were dirt poor, the nobles dirty rich, and slaves were the scum of the earth. There really was no room for advancement. James was also aware that she wouldn't look at him - a byproduct of slavery, naturally - and that she also shook her head at his question. He frowned but didn't say anything, inclined to disbelieve her simply because they shared the same background, knowing that admitting that someone was looking for you brought the sort of dread that often led many slaves to suicide. The hunt was almost worse than being found sometimes, as being found could mean lighter terms or a mildly kinder master; being the hunted, however, could only be described as agony, for no amount of running ever seemed to amount to anything. In the end it was all futile. That was why James hoped the estate he'd come from wasn't missing him too much. "My name is James," he said quietly. That wasn't his original name - he couldn't remember what his birth name was, given to him all those years ago. He remembered the day he had arrived on Soare's shores though, and the name that he'd been given: it was burned into memory, the day where a carefree life had ended and one based around toil and monotony had begun. "You must be hungry..." he continued, clearly thinking. James wasn't hungry of course - he'd eaten a few hours ago, as a werewolf, and would likely remain satiated for a few more hours yet - but he knew she was. "Maybe we can get something to eat off someone... Come on." James made his way towards the door, motioning for her to follow. Lunatryx had regained some of her confidence, but that didn't necessarily mean that she'd actually follow him. He paused at the doorway and glanced back, to make sure she was following. Exhaustion was still omnipresent upon his mind, but there were more important things to look to. A comrade was in need. |
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| Lunatryx | Oct 17 2009, 12:09 PM Post #9 |
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It felt like an unspoken agreement passing between them even as she lied. He knew she was lying, or perhaps that was her paranoia making her imagine the disbelief in his eyes. His bright eyes glinted for just a moment, some glowing ember of life daring to rear its head behind the shield of ethereal indigo. Still she continued just a half a step closer, now not only within reach of him, but with such proximity she could touch him too, if she dared. She didn't, of course, keeping her arms and hands close to her body, every muscle tense as if prepared to flee at the first sign of hostility. The ugly white marks that covered her hardly censored body seemed to tingle, as if to remind her of the cruelty others held but for the first time Lunatryx ignored the warning. The bracer was heavy, glinting still despite the mud and blood it had been stained with, and it made her drop her arm from the defensive stance to rest beside her. The girl's head tilted when he said his name and repeated it back, “James... I-is that..?” She coughed a little, question dying in her throat. She coughed hard, a deep, hacking sound. She covered her mouth, doubling over but rose up when the fit was over. The air around her was abnormally hot, probably quite noticeable to the other slave, but still she shivered as if cold. At the mention of food she nodded her head, eyes rising to meet his for a moment, still trying to decide how much she could trust him, if at all. He turned and walked away, his bare feet kicking up a little bit of dust. Lunatryx looked around the broken house, It could have once been a wonderful place, had it not fallen to such rack and ruin, still, as she turned her eyes back to Jame's she saw he had paused in the doorway, waiting for her to follow. Food? Even in her fear of his potential betrayal (could it be considered betrayal? They had known each other a tops of ten frantic minutes) the prospect of food urged her to follow. Quickly, and quietly bare feet took rushed steps to catch up with the short head start he'd taken and then to walk with him. The return of sunlight made her blink, this usually being the time she had found herself a haven and hurled herself to the nightmares. She walked to James' right, an a half step back as she would've following a Master. This was an exhausting effort in an of itself, just forcing herself to remain in the company of another, and of a male, but also to follow him blindly. She looked around, watching the people going about their business and impulsively walking a little closer to James in her fear. He she at least knew more than these free stranger. She looked up at him again, his own form barely in better shape than her own, they shared a sense of exhaustion. “James...” She said his name in her hoarse, quiet voice, looking at his face unwaveringly for a food half a minute before her gaze dropped, “...Wh...why are you doing this? Where I c-come from..” She shook her head a little, “W-we don't h...help e-each other...” it was obviously a huge effort for her to speak, throat dry, starved and used to the silence terror and solitude brought. They neared a small market in the towns center, all the carts and stands being set up and opened for business. The bustle of the towns folk there made Lunatryx hang back, watching as the cheery populace bustled along in daily routine. There was a burst of loud uproarious laughter from cart near them that was selling wine skins, and a group of children ran past her, laughing, playing tag. She felt like she was watching all this for the first time, but vicariously, like it it was through some veil. The Markets she knew had been busy as well, full of people and the clink of coin, but she had rarely seen them unless she was being stripped naked for the crowds pleasure, and her blindfold was removed. Those days were spent kneeling with your arms bound back to the all with chains, a dirty rag in your mouth to keep you from speaking as the prospective buyers poked and prodded and violated you to their pleasure. They too had all seemed quite happy, though it was obvious that in this market there was no such cruel sport to be had. She moved again, finally, following James a bit more closely than before. |
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| James Ryder | Nov 14 2009, 06:48 PM Post #10 |
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"We don't help each other either where I come from... But out here, in the real world... People who don't live so well do what they can for each other... I think it's 'cause you really got nobody else. And besides... I'm not there anymore, so I don't care what they do or don't do." James shrugged. Although his words would seem a touch harsh, they were spoken in a very soft, gentle tone, as if he didn't have the energy to infuse them with the anger and frustration that he probably felt but didn't know how to show properly. In some ways one could have said that James had been mentally retarded several years, as he had not been taught the necessary skills or social norms that he had needed as a child, nor had he been really taught anything at all. Of course, he had a mentality that was slowly catching up the more he spent in the outside world, and there had been teachers in the compound, but when you were all slaves... There was really only so much one could do. James was just beginning to awaken parts of himself that had been in slumber since his childhood, through to his adolescence and adulthood. The parts that lagged were beginning to catch up, although it would be a long while yet before they came to resemble the mind of a twenty-five-year-old. He blinked the sunlight away, his vision returning to normal in time to see all of the vendors setting up shop. As he passed with his fellow slave in tow, he pretended to glance over the wares, although he knew that the merchants knew that he didn't have a hope in hell of buying a single object. He'd never stolen before, but as the werewolf came to the baked goods - not just bakery shops, but actual people selling fresh loaves of bread, pastries, pies, and cakes, and further up a fruits and vegetables vendor - he was sorely tempted. And, he realized, if they didn't... Well, he would starve, and so would she (though, his appetite certainly wasn't what it had been a few months ago). Glancing back at Lunatryx, and then to the merchant, he stood there, his fists clenching and unclenching. What was he supposed to do? When the woman who had baked the goods turned her back on them, he knew. James reached out and snatched a couple of loaves of bread and a few pasties before the woman happened to turn around. The moment she saw him, James reached back and grabbed Lunatryx's hand as he bolted. "Hey! Thief! Come back here!" "Run!" The merchant woman made to pursue; several people moved as if to stop them, but the werewolf managed to dodge by them, and somehow managed to pull Lunatryx out of their grasps as well. As they darted by the fruits and vegetables stand, he managed to swipe a couple of apples too, loading them into his already-full arms. Behind them an entire crowd was following in hot pursuit. If he hadn't been used to running, he probably wouldn't have been able to keep just ahead of them. James didn't even bother to look back to see how the girl was faring. Instinct took hold and he changed directions, running down an alley before moving quickly through a network of smaller roads, doubling back towards their abandoned house. Behind him he could hear the shouts of those looking for them and, despite the tightness in his chest and the pounding of blood through his ears, he kept running. When they reached the house he yanked the other slave inside and, dragging her towards her original hiding place, he pulled her down, whispering, "Get down!" A moment later a few of the people who had took to chasing them paused in the broken doorway, glancing about. "Are they in there?" one man shouted, and another responded, "No, this house is abandoned. Hasn't seen people in years - there's just some animal tracks and probably some kid's tracks. Come on... They gotta be here somewhere." And then they were gone. After a long minute of attentive listening, James breathed out a heavy sigh. Pulling off his shirt - it was probably cleaner than the floor, at any rate - he placed their small load of goods on it. It wasn't much, but it was enough. On his body, especially his back, every single scar that he had was laid out for her eyes - including the one near his neck, where the werewolf had bit him. As the adrenaline left his body and he leaned back, exhausted, James found it in himself to grin. His first truly stolen meal, and it was a good one at that. Grabbing an apple, he rubbed it against his pants and bit into it, relishing the sweet taste, the texture. Far better than gruel. "Dig in!" he laughed as he closed his eyes. No doubt this small shred of happiness would soon come to an end, but at least they had this. Finally, James glanced towards Lunatryx to gauge her reaction. "You're ok, right? I didn't... uh... I didn't scare you? Truth be told, I've never done that before. It was kind of... amazing." He couldn't think of a better word for the experience. |
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