stormaktstiden | Help me testdrive

Help me testdrive

Help me testdrive

Rasmus
old World of Darkness
ota

Ragnar
old World of Darkness
ota

Elenora
old World of Darkness
ota

Lung
Dragonrider
ota

Comment to this post and either
♥ tell me whom you want to thread with and give me a prompt (words, picture, whatever) ♥
or
♥ tell me whom you want to thread with and set a scene ♥
or
♥ link me a meme (t.ex. bakerstreet) that you'd like me to pick a prompt from ♥

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The young girl was traveling while no one would miss her. She was dressed head to toe in a black cloak that was far too large for her, hiding her gender, age, and everything else about her other than the fact that she is humanoid when she appears behind him. she came to the dreams in the light when they were alone and lonely. Like called to like and their loneliness called to hers, and drew her towards them.

So she appeared behind him and waited for him to notice that he was no longer alone. He was pretty, like Draca and Lorn! She wanted to draw a picture of him for Draca.

He could have gone back inside where the others were still sleeping and discussing things, but as much as he wanted to... no. Ben needed to spend time with the Wiesengrunds. They needed to get used to one another.

And Sorrel and Burr-Burr-Chan had taken off together to look at some kind of overgrown mushroom bed to see if anything could be salvaged, so for the first time in what felt like ever he was by himself.

It was a ...strange feeling. Uncomfortably calm. He raised his head and looked around when he noticed a movement in the corner of his eye and realized that someone was standing there, their cloak fluttering in the wind.

"Hello."

Who might they be? That style of dress didn't resemble that of the monks of the monastery, or the people who lived close by.

"Hello," came the voice from within the cloak. It was not the voice of a child, but not quite an adult's voice either. It was dark and ageless, speaking of chasms and darkness and power. A haunting voice, yes, but also a haunted one. Witch's voice.

She will sound like a little girl soon, but for the moment she was speaking from the edge of an Abyss. Witch in all her dark glory, as portrayed by her 7 year old form. Buried in a black velvet cloak.

A strange voice. A curious voice, and he turned around fully to look at her.

Some kind of mythical being? She did sound like it, but he'd never met one who fancied hiding themselves in a cloak like that. But then, Stone Dwarves and their hats...

"Do you live here?"

The monks or kobolds might have mentioned this person then, but maybe not. There had been enough other stories to swap and things to speak of.

"No," that midnight voice said. "I cam because you were lonely." When she was more confidant that she wasn't going to be attacked or sent away she'd show more of who she was, but she was hiding in her own darkness for the moment.

Oh.

Lonely. Yes, that might be a word for it, though he doesn't think that he's sad, not strictly speaking, anyway, and always assumed that would go with it.

"To cheer me up?"

Edited 2016-11-24 20:27 (UTC)

"So that you do not have to be lonely any more." A hesitation, and then the voice was that of a little girl. "So that we can be friends. If you want a friend."

He huffed a laugh.

"I would never turn down someone who wants to be my friend."

He liked human children. They were less complicated than adults, he had found, showing excitement and happiness as well as other emotions more clearly and with less distance in their behaviour. He didn't know what the children were like back in Europe, as Ben had told him that him and Guinevere weren't the best examples, but perhaps they were just as easy to get along with.

"Sit with me?"

She nodded and pushed back the cloak hood as she started to walk over. She was pale and too thin, with an angular face that would be fascinating when she hit adulthood, but was just awkward on a child. Her blond hair was in the falling apart remnants of ridiculous sausage curls that indicated some care. Unlike the rest of her.

Under her eyes were dark bruised circles, her wrists when the poked out of the cloak showed bruising, her arms were almost painfully thin.

But as she got close what drew attention was her deep sapphire eyes. They looked like a thin blue covering over and endless drop into darkness and storms. They were ageless eyes, timeless eyes, dangerous eyes, not the eyes of a child, and they left one chilled as they swept over a person. She studied him with those eyes as she walked, as though she were reading him down to the marrow in his bones.

Well, she wasn't human; he could tell that much, even without the ability to feel the itch that other mythical creatures brought, too desensitized to the effect. The eyes were a good indication.

But she also didn't look well, and that concerned him. Thinner than Ben had been when they met, and Ben had been too thin. And the bruises were concerning as well. He'd seen many hurt beings over time, as all those in the area where he'd grown up would come to the place where the dragons lived to have their injuries healed - mostly animals and kobolds, but the odd other mythical being as well. As much as they didn't usually interact with the fairies, they still came for some dragon fire when they needed healing.

"What happened to your arms?"

She looked away at that question, and her words could have been formed of ice from the way the air around her chilled. "Briarwood is the pretty poison," she said, darkness flashing in the depth of her eyes.

No one escaped Briarwood, but she was going to do her best to be the first. Her hands curled into fists at her sides and she looked dark and terrible and powerful and furious... and lonely and afraid.

He wasn't sure what she meant, but by what he could tell, her words carried no death - not like the basilik's screech.

"It looks like blunt impact or like your arms got caught in rope," or similar things, "not like poison.

...I should be able to heal it, if you will let me." Perhaps she had come to him knowing that and just didn't know how to ask, and if that was the case, he wanted to make it easier on her.

She blinked a few times and the cold faded as her eyes shifted from the midnight abyss to... the light summer sky color of a child's eyes. And her expression became one of cautious delight. "You're a healer?" she asked, clapping her hands together happily.

She no longer sounded ageless and dangerous, she sounded like a happy child. "Can you teach me?" she asked, bounding over closer with all the energy and enthusiasm of a child, showing off more of how thin she was whenever her cloak and dress exposed more of an arm or leg. There were burns around her neck as well, and bruising, but those were fainter.

"No." He was too surprised by the question to add any apologies to it initially, confused by the very notion of teaching abilities to another species. Knowledge, perhaps, though it often tied closely into abilities. But healing? "It is in our fire."

"Healing fire?" she asked, sounding little kid fascinated as she finished closing the distance, her summer sky eyes blue and wide. "I'd love to learn that!"

She was bouncing on the balls of her feet now that she was otherwise still.

"It's not a thing that can be learned."

Not to his knowledge, anyway - how would someone learn a thing based on physiology and one's very nature?

"Well, can you show me anyway? Maybe I can figure it out?" she asked, little kid fascinated.

"Hold out your arm."

He will move his head over to nudge her arm if she lets him.

She nodded and held out her arm for him, bouncing a bit excited. The cloak vanished showing a small summer dress for a little kid. her arm was bruises all up and down from wrist to where the sleeve covered it above the elbow. The only rope burn was at the wrist though, the rest looked like marks from being grabbed. She didn't seem to notice how bad her arm looked, her attention was on what she could learn.

He doesn't like what he sees, at all, but nonetheless blows blue fire on her arm. It feels pleasant on the skin, tickling faintly.

"...Why were you hurt like that?"

She giggled a bit at the feel of it, watching her arm intently, to see the healing, and completely failing to acknowledge the question.

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Help me testdrive

For Lung, Jaenelle as requested.

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I shoulda tossed you Greg, lol

well

Well?

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