Fireball for Hire
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Hybrid
Authored by Illyrianna.
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Post by Ruthalla Elanan on Dec 8, 2017 15:57:23 GMT
Ruth made a mental note to find the merchant who had sold her this horse. The equine she rode was nothing short of fidgety, even by her standards. Animals in general didn't like the hybrid, and that much she could understand, but this horse in particular stopped at the most dumbest and random times. Like this one, in the middle of a small patch of woods on the road through the mountains. Ruth didn't know if the equine saw something, or was simply spooked by shadows.
Regardless, it was riling the warrior's temper something fierce.
"I swear to all the holy gods above, if you don't move..." The woman growled, giving the animal a kick, still thankfully restrained as to not hurt it. The horse gave her an unhappy noise, taking a few steps forward before stopping again. Its ears swiveled nervously, listening to the hybrid as she spouted a few more empty threats, then sighed in resignation.
Looks like she was going to have to dismount and guide the bloody creature out of the woods. Again. Muttering darkly under her breath, the woman moved to get out of the saddle.
That was as far as she got, before the animal went mad with fear. Ruth didn't even have time to guess what set it off, clinging to the saddle as the horse began to buck and kick. To the veteran's credit, she held on until the spooked equine took off into the forest. A particularly badly-timed buck from it sent the hybrid's head crashing into a low-hanging branch, neatly sweeping the woman out of her saddle. Ruth hit the ground with a growl, having only enough sense to fold her wings to keep them from harms way as she rolled.
As her horse went off galloping through the woods, sowing her possessions left and right, a tree was what stopped Ruth's roll. The woods grew quiet for a few moments, until the woman stirred with a weak groan. She blinked her eyes open, then promptly gave a sulfurous curse as blood from a cut on her forehead tainted her vision.
"When I catch you..." Ruth snarled, blinking as she worked her way to her feet, leaning on the nearby tree in her half-blind state. "...I'll turn you into minced meat and make you my goddamn lunch!!" She howled and ranted on, expletives pouring for the animal with every breath she took.
Until she felt something through the ground beneath her feet. It summoned a hiss from the woman, who promptly went for the bastard sword resting between her wings. Half-unsheathing it, Ruth scowled with squinted eyes, trying to discern her surroundings. Her head still swam from the blow, but it didn't stop the woman from barking.
"Who's there? Make yourself known. Right now." She demanded, one hand upon the hilt of her sword, while the other pressed against the bark of the nearest tree for stability. Her scarlet, draconic wings twitched, lightly unfurling left and right as her mind wrongly interpreted her own orientation in the world.
Nevertheless, the woman probably screamed dangerous mercenary. Armored with hardened leather over her torso, and with steel plate cascading down her arms and legs, she was plenty prepared for trouble ahead. More than that, the wild tresses of her dark hair, now decorated with a few twigs and leaves, probably gave the woman a feral look as well. Declan
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Novelist/Farmer
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Authored by Rook.
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Post by Declan on Dec 9, 2017 8:04:10 GMT
The mountains were Declan's home. He avoided the werebeast territory that took up a good portion of it and held down his own little plot without much issue. Most assumed he was just another human. No threat. Little did they know that a dragon was in their midst. He was dressed simply as always and in clothing that appeared very warn and faded. His fingers crept over the small mushrooms that grew at the base of a massive tree. Gently coaxing them from the ground without crushing them. White ones that looked like some strange land version of coral he had seen in the sea as well as other smaller ones that resembled a lady's parasol. He placed each one gently into the whicker basket he carried as if they were tiny treasures and continued on his way.
He wasn’t far from his cabin. A ten minute walk at most. A trail ran through here, one that many travelers took and Declan would occasionally use to his benefit. Snow had fallen heavily over the past few days and it made traveling on foot a little precarious. He would easily slip and break his leg or tumble into a cavern he hadn’t even seen. And it was so that he decided to take the road.
Declan wasn’t a large man. He wasn’t overly tall and rather lean. With his long hair, scruffy beard, and simple clothing he probably looked like a hermit of sorts to the travelers he might encounter. On occasion he had welcomed those that were tired or weak to his home for a warm meal and a comfortable place to sleep for the night. But for the most part the travelers had a tendency to look right through him as if he were just another part of the forest. That worked well for him as well. It was his goal to not stand out, to not draw attention to his people. It was best if they were forgotten, if they could become just another legend told around crackling fires. It was safer for them all that way.
He could hear someone yelling, cursing, and throwing a general fit. With a raised brow he continued on until he reached the path where a woman stood. Immediately his blue eyes flicked to the wings that sprouted from her back, miniature versions of dragon wings. Not that Declan had wings but many of his kind did. "Who's there? Make yourself known. Right now." A kind smile came to his lips and he dipped his head in greeting although his knowing eyes took a moment longer to fall away from her. She had dragon blood in her, he could not only see it, but feel it. This one must be one of the hybrids. His kind weren’t known for spawning many of them but as the races mingled it was inevitable.
Once he rose back from the small bow he nodded to the cut on her brow. ”Just me. Looks like you took quite a hit.” His gaze moved to the items that were strewn haphazardly on each side of the path, the dirt that had been kicked up by panicked hooves. ”Did you lose your horse, by chance?” He spoke calmly and resituated the basket of mushrooms on his arm. All the while his pale eyes studied the curious woman.
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Fireball for Hire
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Single.
Hybrid
Authored by Illyrianna.
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Post by Ruthalla Elanan on Dec 11, 2017 16:06:17 GMT
Everything was a blur, but Ruth could distinguish someone standing there. By the sound of it, it was a man, his voice calm and friendly to her ears. Not someone looking for trouble then, which was good.
Ruth gave a grunt as he spoke, pointing out her wound. "I'm fine." The mercenary woman rumbled instantly, though still blinking in an attempt to clear her eyes. It wasn't working, and it started to bother her more than just visually. She refrained from admitting that, instead mopping at her forehead with a sleeve.
"It's just a head wound. They look worse than they are." Ruth said, releasing the hilt of her blade to let it slide back into the sheath. Scaly tail flicking to and fro like that of an annoyed feline, the woman tried stepping away from her stabilizing tree, only to regret it the instant she did. The hybrid stumbled back with a growl, unceremoniously crouching to try and lessen how much the world spun.
"That... is not a horse..." Ruth snarled in annoyance. "That is a pile of worthless flesh and bones upon hooves..." She was tempted to keep going in detailed description of what she thought of the equine, but there were more pressing matters to attend to. So, gritting her teeth, the woman restrained her temper and added "...but yes, I lost it."
Her amber gaze flicked over to the stranger, squinting as she tried once more to study him. Her expression wound up an unfriendly scowl, before she gave her attempt an exasperated sigh and moved her eyes to inspect the rest of her surroundings.
The ground was peppered with white tufts here and there, and she recognized the blur as snow. The woman promptly pointed to a sizeable pile of it.
"Get me some of that snow. And make it quick." The hybrid ordered, her tone that of a leader who wasn't used to being disobeyed.
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Novelist/Farmer
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Authored by Rook.
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Post by Declan on Dec 14, 2017 10:08:20 GMT
Declan watched the hybrid curiously. Noting how unsteady she was on her feet but also the harsh tone of her words. He imagined she had to be such a way, her hybridism being so readily evident. One of his brows rose when she said head wounds looked worse than they were. "Pretty sure its the opposite of that, actually." He commented calmly although with an obvious note of concern. She stumbled after trying to push away from the tree that anchored her. He took a half step forward to assist her then stopped himself. She wouldn't likely appreciate a helping hand.
She crouched down with an animalistic smile that despite the circumstances made him smile. She reminded him of a small bobcat he had rescued from a trap a few years earlier. Its leg had been snapped by the metal jaws but with time and bandages the wound had healed. Even when it came time to release her that cat still hated him. And more that once she had left deep claw marks in his skin, impressions of her teeth clear to his bone. Fear. Fear was what made animals afraid. He imagined this woman had met her fair share of fear. Perhaps her cold front was a way of handling it.
She snapped at him to get her some snow and Declan nodded. He knelt down and grabbed a scoopful in his hand. Still keeping his basket of mushrooms in his other one he made his way over to the hybrid whose tail was lashing around like an unhappy felines appendage. His gaze lingered briefly before his blue eyes would move to her face. "Stay still." He said calmly and without waiting for her approval he would turn his cupped hand to press the pristine white snow against her wound. Frowning when it turned pink quickly.
"My cabin is close. I could stitch this up if you would allow me too. I have some herbs there that would do wonders for the swelling too." A small smirk before he spoke again. "I also have some rum, it could help with the pain as well."
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Fireball for Hire
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Single.
Hybrid
Authored by Illyrianna.
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Post by Ruthalla Elanan on Dec 16, 2017 17:52:53 GMT
"I meant the bleeding, smartass." Ruth growled at the man, scowling at his blurry form. "The concussion's not that bad. I'll live." She added, tone annoyed.
She hated this, thoroughly. The inability to see. The blow to her head that made it difficult to stand. The overall weak and vulnerable state she was in, and if that wasn't enough, there was a stranger before her whom she couldn't even see, much less figure out whether his intentions were sincere or not. He sounded fairly kind, but that could be deceiving. After all, why would anyone want anything to do with a hybrid, much less help one?
At least he was doing as he was told, which brought a slight sigh of relief from the warrior woman. She blinked a few more times, and realized that her sight wasn't all that helpful in this situation. So as the man shifted to gather some snow, Ruth closed her eyes, focusing on her hearing alone. Footsteps resounded as he moved, with a slight creak of wicker here and there, and a whisper of clothes permeating it all. Then the sounds grew closer, making the pointy ears twitch within the wild tresses of her hair. He was getting rather close, uncomfortably so, making Ruth grow still and tense even before he told her to do so.
Amber eyes blinking open, she was greeted by a blurry vision of the stranger's face. Blue eyes peered at her, before the man told her not to move and promptly pressed the handful of snow against her forehead. Ruth winced at that, partly from surprise, and partly from the sting of her complaining wound. A moment after though, the cold of the snow sank into the swollen bump, and the fierce woman had to admit that it felt good. So much so, she stayed quiet for a few long moments, letting the man speak.
His words made her frown lightly, doubt flickering into her unfocused gaze. "No offense..." Ruth rumbled at him in response. "But why the hell are you helping me?" Her tone was still jaded, but it has lost some of its growly edge thanks to his kindness.
Not that she'd admit as much. Even though she knew that if she didn't let him help her, chances were someone else would come along, who wouldn't lament taking advantage of her in her weakened state. Such was the life of hybrids, always on alert and watching over their shoulders, even when their halfbreed natures aren't apparent. Ruth didn't even have that luxury, much to her ire.
Grunting at the stranger, Ruth moved one of her hands, careful and slow since she was so close to him. The onyx claws upon her hands were enough to spook anyone, as moving swiftly could easily be interpreted as an attack. So she was careful, as she went to grab at the half-pink snow on her forehead, all the while her other hand gestured at him in a light shoo-ing motion.
Ruth fished through a few pockets then, until she found a piece of clean cloth. She crumpled that up and pressed it against her forehead, trying to staunch the bleeding some. The woman held the snow aloft her eyes, and flickering flames began to lick at it from her will, sending watery drops down to try washing the blood away.
There wasn't nearly enough snow for that, however, and it made the woman curse. "Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me. This is ridiculous." She snarled, annoyance brimming.
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Novelist/Farmer
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Post by Declan on Dec 17, 2017 7:16:31 GMT
"Oh I have no doubt that you would survive." Declan had commented honestly when the hybrid bristled from his words. "Isn't that the thing about concussions though? You generally don't know how bad it is until you are found face down in a field by a rice patty farmer that is upset you tainted his crop?" He shrugged, a small notion that made his shoulders rise and fall carelessly. Even though he did care. The dragon often cared too much. It was an issue more often than not.
Declan had pressed the snow gently against her wound. Not reacting when the woman hissed unhappily. She relaxed just a bit, the snow obviously sucking some of the punch out of her head wound. When she did eventually speak it was words that made his brows narrow. "Because you are a hybrid you mean? Or because you are rather grumpy?" Either way a slow smile would come to his face. His blue eyes roaming over her face, she was attractive despite the scowl that seemed to be permanently etched into her flesh. "It seems like a silly question to me. I would help you because you need it. As anyone should." She reached up to take the snow then and Declan backed away. Dusting his chilled hand against his leg to get the circulation back.
He noted the claws on her hands, chucking that trait in along with the others. The woman truly had no hope to hide what she was. Even he had the protection of his human form. She was stuck in some strange middle ground although her tipped ears brought him to think she was an elven hybrid. Not a human one. Interesting indeed. He watched her curiously as the woman melted snow, snow which would barely equal a tenth of the same volume of water. She was trying to wash her wound and it was obviously not going very well. The dragon cleared his throat softly. From the way she was blinking often as if trying to clear her eyes, he could only assume she couldn't see well.
He turned to gather her things. Not saying a word to the hybrid as he zig-zagged the small trail to get an assortment of things the horse had so carelessly thrown. Once he had what he assumed to be all of it he would walk back over to the grumpy one. With one arm laden with her things he would hold the opposite hand out to her. "Here." His voice was gentle and quiet. Fingers just brushing against her knuckles but not grabbing her hand. He would let her do that if she wished too. Otherwise, he would lead her some other way. If she would even follow.
"Let's get your wound cleaned up so that you can find your beloved horse, shall we?" He waited there with fingers outstretched. Silent. Patient. Each breath of his creating small puffs in the air in front of him. His mushrooms were not as plentiful as he had hoped. But he should have known that even in early winter they would start to disappear. He didn't make any further movements to touch her or convince her. He just waited. Patient and watchful.
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Fireball for Hire
Straight.
Single.
Hybrid
Authored by Illyrianna.
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Post by Ruthalla Elanan on Dec 21, 2017 11:09:06 GMT
The stranger was an odd one, getting a raised eyebrow from the hybrid as he spoke of fields of rice and angry farmers. He wasn't sarcastic either, from what she could tell. A laugh, something incredibly rare, bubbled up out of the warrior woman. Rough and perhaps a touch morbid, though the woman couldn't help how she laughed naturally. "Sounds like you have some personal experience with it." Ruth rumbled in amusement, though she didn't argue back to his point. The hybrid had a feeling they could go back and forth on it all day, and she didn't have energy nor patience for such nonsense.
Her amusement was short-lived anyway, as the man responded to her question with his own, even going as far as to call her grumpy. Ruth gave him an irritated glare at that, her amber eyes sharp, though they didn't know exactly where to drill the angry hole. "Both." Ruth admitted with an angry growl. "Can you blame me? My horse just fucking kicked me off and scattered all my shit everywhere." She narrowed her eyes at him, pausing for a moment.
"You're one of those weird, spiritual mountain hermits, aren't you?" The woman said, a touch of judgment in her tone. Not that she'd normally look down on such people, but the man had prodded her pride. She knew she was grumpy, viciously so at times, but she couldn't just up and smile and be happy about her life. To imply that she should be, even unintentionally, was an insult.
The stranger moved away from her, and for a moment she wondered if he was about to leave her. Ruth thought relief would wash over her, but what she got were mixed feelings as she watched his blurry form move away until she could no longer distinguish him from anything else. Sighing, the hybrid moved the pink-tinted snow, what was left of it, to her forehead, roughly bundling it up in the cloth. She shifted slowly and carefully, leaning against the tree, though even that much made her feel woozy.
Ruth grumbled, just as the blurry shape of the stranger came back, carrying a lot of somethings in his arm. It was nowhere near all of her things, but if that was all the horse kicked off, then it was a miracle. The warrior squinted at the stuff, then up at the man as he offered her his hand.
Ruth was slow and reluctant to grip his arm, partly so he wouldn't be spooked by her claws, and partly due to her already wounded pride. But she did, and with a grunt pulled herself away from the tree.
It proved to be a mistake. Her head swam, and the woman continued forward, crashing into the stranger with a growl. Her wings half unfurled to try and balance her, and wound up nearly smacking the man. Ruth had them under control a moment later however, letting them settle down as she spewed a few choice colorful words for the horse.
Tail swiping in irritation, the hybrid refused to look at the man, pretending to be keenly focused on the blurry surroundings. "Sorry." She rumbled at him quietly, and it was all the acknowledgment she was willing to give of her stumble. "Name's Ruth, by the way. Let's get going." She went on after a brief pause, fully wanting to ignore her own weak state, and the fact she had to lean on him to even walk. At least she managed to keep the cloth with the snow still pressed to her head, even through her stumble.
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Novelist/Farmer
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Authored by Rook.
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Post by Declan on Dec 22, 2017 9:35:00 GMT
A small grin came to his lips, cheeks dimpling before he shook his head a bit as if saying he would prefer not to go into that story. He was pretty old after all, he was bound to get a few knocks to the skull. Especially back during the war. Being the one who tried to keep the peace was rarely a safe or peaceful endeavor. ”Perhaps, but that is a story for another time.”
He didn’t speak when Ruth angrily rambled off about having her reasons to be angry. He had already answered her and she just appeared to be letting off steam. He knew others that had to get things out and said before they exploded. The interesting hybrid wouldn’t be the first to fill his ears with complaints and grumbles. He laughed softly at the hermit comment. ”I am a little spiritual I guess, and a hermit. If the shoe fits.” His shoulders rose in a shrug of surrender. It was by no means the worst thing he had ever been called.
He had been called many things because of his desire for peace. Some felt his desire was born of cowardice. Couldn’t they see that it was so much harder to not strike out when angry? That they only added to the death toll? But he didn’t mention this. He didn’t make his dragon nature common knowledge. If a friend directly asked him he would tell them. But as it were he tried to be wary.
Declan didn’t balk when the claws hand grasped his arm. He simply averted his blue eyes and waited patiently for her to find her footing. Unfortunately she stumbled, gaining a bit of momentum rather quickly before she fell against him. Declan thrust his arms out in an attempt to catch her. Both landing on her arms that he held to try to steady her. He might be somewhat small in stature. But he was fit. He was very active, chopping and toting wood for his cabin. Doing little repairs and foraging for food. He was by no means weak. But he certainly wasn’t overly strong. His small form obviously built more for speed and agility than brute strength. Just like his dragon skin.
He didn’t reply to her apology, noting that it didn’t come easily. ”Declan.” He replied when her own name was given. The poor woman had taken quite a knock to the skull to still be this scattered. He had jerked his head back to avoid her fluttering wings, for just that brief moment revealing just how swiftly he could move. If she would allow it Declan would step to her side and pull her arm around his neck, careful to keep her claws from raking against his neck.
His other hand would settle firmly around her hip. The items he had gathered as well as his mushrooms all gathered on his moderately free arm opposite her. Declan moved in silence for several minutes. Eventual speaking in his same low, calm tone. ”You have lots of issues, don’t you? Because of your lineage?” He didn’t look at her when he spoke. But at the snowy ground ahead of them. ”Not many I encounter are quite as guarded as you…but I really don’t speak to many people anymore so perhaps that’s a poor reference.”
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Fireball for Hire
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Single.
Hybrid
Authored by Illyrianna.
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Post by Ruthalla Elanan on Dec 28, 2017 19:24:12 GMT
The man was a true, typical hermit, alright. He didn't seem to care much about her foul mouth, her insults nor general harsh demeanor. It annoyed the half dragon a touch, that she was weak and vulnerable while everything seemed to simply roll off of him.
There was certainly more to him than meets the eye. Declan, as the man called himself, was stronger than he looked, judging by the way he stopped her from toppling him over. Some of it was understandable, what with him being a hermit, but the man was just too at ease with her hybrid nature. He should be afraid of her. Or as distrustful as she is of him, if not moreso. Something, at the very least.
But he wasn't. All he wanted was to help, and it was ludicrous to her.
Ruth twitched as he stepped closer to move her one arm over his shoulders. Recognizing what he was doing, the woman grunted at the familiar motion, having experienced it numerous times during the war. She never learned to be comfortable with it, but at least she knew how to tolearte it. Almost by instinct, the woman relaxed her hand to make sure her claws were far from harming the man, whilst her wings shifted to let him wrap his arm around her without much trouble.
They moved in blessed silence. Ruth wasn't sure whether it was that, or the fresh mountain air, but after a few minutes her head began to clear a little. Her steps grew more sure, though she still leaned on Declan for support. And she still couldn't see a bloody thing, as annoying as that was.
His questions, low and calm as they were, came out of nowhere for the hybrid. The woman winced, immediate tension rattling through her form. So much so, she dug her heels into the ground to stop them both from moving, a furious snarl rippling out of her lungs. His words hit home, hard, threatening to summon countless foul memories, and with it came no small amount of rage at her past.
Ruth fixed the man with a glower, before remembering whom she was talking to. The man was a hermit, someone who likely never met anyone like her. Curiosity was just getting the better of him, she judged. He didn't seem the type to purposely prod at her feelings to do harm. Foolish and naive perhaps, but certainly not deserving of her burning anger.
So Ruth looked away from him, amber eyes blazing with anger as she took a moment to restrain herself. She spotted her own hand hovering where he held her waist, ready to rip his arm off so she could untangle herself from him. She didn't, however, though the temptation was there. Instead, the woman breathed in and out, then once more, and a third time until she felt the rage lift. And still she didn't look his way, choosing to glare at a nearby blurry form of a tree.
"Declan." Ruth started after a moment of silence. "I understand that you don't know me, and that talking to someone like me is a bit of a novelty but..." The woman sighed, giving him a glare, the anger of it dulled somewhat by her restraint. "...some questions are too fucking personal."
She looked away then, and took a step forward to signal they could move once more. "I am guarded because people can kill my kind, rob them and worse without suffering any consequences from the law. That's not having issues. It's survival. I'd be beyond foolish to trust strangers."
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