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Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2018 23:33:41 GMT -5
The Sea of CloudsRoxas watched his legs dangle above empyrean fathoms, absently mimicking a walking motion. A certain juvenile joy at the optical illusion of placing pock-marked skate shoes scintillating misty cloudscape was impossible to resist. The boy from a world of everlasting eventide found the radiance of Hydaelyn’s noon harsh and blindingly pale compared to the soft amber glow of home, but nevertheless uplifting despite being eye-watering. It refracted in luminous ephemeralness that uplifted the imagination to encompass paradisiacal celestial myths half-remembered. Roxas had no clue how this world, this ‘dream,’ worked, or whether gravity here bore any relation to what bound things to earth in Twilight Town. The young man craned his next back over a shoulder already reddening with sunburn under his T-shirt. He watched the precarious rope bridges that connected his floating island to other earthen fragments sway drunkenly in the breeze. The wind’s touch cooled sweat and rifled roughly though the very roots of his now thoroughly disheveled blonde hair. Roxas’ brain told him that he should be terrified, sitting on the very edge of some rock floating gods knew how many feet above … was there even ground down there? Yet, he’d always loved heights, be it the sea bluffs or sneaking up to give passerby heart-attacks when he hollered down at them from atop the Station Clocktower. All his best memories were in high places. Even the steady wind threatening to send him plummeting from his perch had the feel of an old friend. Exactly like one…in fact. “Ventus…”The word was meaningless, but it felt right. Roxas leaned back onto the sky-island’s scraggly grass and looked up into the vast blue vault, legs still dangling over the void. His fingers absently fiddled with a mithril keychain hanging from his backpack’s foremost pocket, feeling the segments one by one down to its winged sapphire terminus. Each link was an impossible memory cast in silver, delusions of other worlds like this, psychotic breaks from reality that were growing ever more frequent. Which was real…Roxas of Twilight Town, or Roxas, fleshly chaff to some dude named Sora who beat people bloody with a giant key. Seemed stupid right? But this place felt real and that place of stained glass and shadow felt realer still, like it was closer to who he was supposed be. OR more likely, those psych meds from the pharmacy weren’t working and he’d be waking up in a straightjacket any day now. A deafening roar sent Roxas’ guts right up into his throat. The following rush of displaced air slammed into him like the hand of an angered Olympian, flattening the boy against his terrestrial shelter amidst empty aether. Nauseating vertigo seeped in as his skull concussed upon what he dearly hoped was just a smooth rock. As sanguine warmth trickled down the nape of his neck, Roxas beheld death descend, clad in scarlet scales that refracted solar rays like rubies. An immense presence loomed over Roxas, membranous wings spreading shade over him like a deathly pall heralding that last plunge into thanotic darkness. Yellow slitted reptilian eyes bored down into their prey, seething, yet also strangely vacant. Dull crimson light throbbed from a blackened sigil of a stitched heart branded across the lighter scales of the draconic predator’s underbelly. There was moment between man and beast, an intimate contemplate of the Other before inevitable primality took its course. The hush was broken the raw rip on a tree trunk-like back claw shredding cargo pants and tendons into ribbons, and Roxas’ world became agony. ((OOC: a Wyvern appears))
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Post by Deleted on Mar 25, 2018 13:21:59 GMT -5
[attr="class","tgg"] [attr="class","TheGreatGatsby"] 自由自在 to be free; completely unrestrained. Bad timing she says, horrible timing she calls it. And another strike from the smirking lady of fate when she tossed the time she needed an ingredient from sea of clouds she thought she had. Turns out she accidentally gotten rid of it on a rare cleaning spree through her storage. That’s exactly where Ivonne found herself in needing a few skins from the menace known as man-eating dhamels of sea of clouds. They’re not… in a sense man eating as they’re quite fond of vegetation but the amount of aggression those territorial beast would go to protect their land is just as annoying as to say they’re fond of tearing a few stripes of flesh from unknowing adventurers. Crimson colored orbs surveyed the land below while she on the other hand was safely in the protection of the skies. Gryphons were notoriously precious when it came to dealing with the torrents surrounding the treacherous skies of sea of clouds.
Anything can happen… Anything that included a giant flying whale—Actually at that point let’s not remind the girl. The thought of dealing with that gigantic menace is enough to sour the pits of her stomach. Just like the ingrain hatred off…. The thought she had running a marathon within her mind took a pause in disbelief as her gaze circled on a sight she had… never expected to fly around the floating isles. Well she did, but NOT in this part of the isles. A wyvern. The thick scales glinting venomously within the sharp stinging rays of the mid noon sun. The winds roaming around barely soften the heated steaks being unleashed. And being so close up, the isles were in truth the first defence they have against the blinding heat. That meant… there was no mercy for them who hated the burning sting of an upcoming sunburn.
Kinda made her wish she didn’t possess a near pale complexion she unfortunately did. But were getting off topic. Where was she? Yes wyvern. The girl’s eyebrow naturally twitched, once or twice. Let it be known, anyone born within ishgardian soil has an ingrain ability to loathe scalekins. Especially… dragons. While the girl barely takes heed of this hatred she does on some account do… particularly, when it came to a pesky one known as Niddhogg. That’s a story she might as well refuse to retell. The same red colored orbs circled around the unexpected dragon, wondering what in seven hells brought it so far off from Dravania until… she noted its current prey. And it wasn’t the normal wild animals roaming about.
If two legs… bipedal…and clearly human counted as prey. The silent stare the child had on her face as she pondered just what had luck brought on her doorstep was short lived when she gave the silent to command to her beast to dive down, positioning one hand over the reins while the other already found the grip of her sword. She timed it right as her muscles tensed preparing themselves sudden move as the beast got within drop range of the strange—okay well strange creature she would not name. She leaped off her beast before literally diving her massive cleaver of a sword deep down onto the back of the wyvern without much consent of mercy towards the beast only pumping the necessary amount of power she can gleam from the abyss for the attack before roughly screwing it to bisect the creature in half before leaping off from it.
@tapir [attr="class","mizocredits"] [newclass=.mizocredits]width:90px;padding:1px;border:1px solid #969696;margin:5px;[/newclass][newclass=.mizocredits a]color: #d3f4ff;font: bold 6pt calibri; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: uppercase;[/newclass][googlefont=Muli][newclass=.TheGreatGatsby]width: 89px; height: 89px; border:1px solid #201f24;transition:.7s[/newclass][newclass=.tgg:hover .TheGreatGatsby]filter:invert(100%); -webkit-filter: invert(100%); transition:.7s;border: 1px solid #f0f0f0;[/newclass]
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Post by Deleted on Mar 25, 2018 15:12:33 GMT -5
In took Roxas a second or two realize his sudden savior was about his own age. She had a heart shaped face, with a small mouth and subdued duchess nose beneath a pair of carnelian eyes. A large bow and blossom shared berets did little to contain sandy blonde tresses that practically cascaded down both sides of her shoulders, their seeming soft strands making a contrast with riveted mail. This impression of stark bifurcation was accentuated by the piecemeal nature of her gilded armor, wrought from a dull dark metal Roxas didn’t recognize, placed at the joints and exterior sides of the limbs while leaving mostly bare portions that left her femininity … unambiguous. A scarlet train split into sections evocative of massive flower petals trailed behind her impatient movements. In her right hand, covered in an almost organic verdigris Roxas could’t tell to be a glove or the skin-tight gauntlet, was a sword nearly as long as he was tall. A mammoth thing of gilt and ebony, a curious crystal on its right side refracted sunlight into Roxas’s vision before he blinked the glare away.
Yup, meds definitely weren’t working, not at all.
Wide blue eyes peered up at the valkyrie, sole points of humanity amidst the thick black gore now caking the boy as if he’d plunged into a tar pit. Yet, it was only Roxas’ own wounds, leeching out in deep sanguinary slashes along his calves, thighs, and shattered shins, that smelled of cruor copper. The dragon lay hewn in twain on either side of him, completely bisected like Abraham’s covenantal cattle. Yet instead of the slick squamous organs one’d expect within a fleshly creature, no further carnage issued forth. Instead there was only inky smoke billowing out around him, as if the dragon had just been hollow of scales and vapor.
Agony wracked what was left of his legs, making Roxas’ breaths shallow and short as trembling muscle spasms shook him like the erratic grip of a puppeteer. White ringed his vision as insidious enervation stole strength away into the deadly lull of anemia.
“T-thank you,” he managed, barely managing to a weak sitting position as a minute of gritted teeth and shooting pain.
Another thudding displacement air brought a reflexive twitch to Roxas’ increasingly sluggish moments. A dark mass of feathers descended, and he turned at the waist.“W-watch out,” came the slurred warning, unsteady hand lifting to point at the nightmarish amalgam of quadrupedal predator and eagle that swam in his vision. “Nother one…”
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Post by Deleted on Mar 25, 2018 16:27:18 GMT -5
[attr="class","tgg"] [attr="class","TheGreatGatsby"] 自由自在 to be free; completely unrestrained. By the scholar’s waning sanity. The girl’s hushed versed cusses rang through her mind like a new year’s stampede of drunks lining the tavern for free ale. Not that the old bugger over at the drunken wench would allow the drunken pirates of limsa to drain him out of ale and home. That’s a funny, but then she remembered the one USED to be like them. A sell sword who by some grace in the rumour mill held connections to the disbanded free company aptly named ‘Company of heroes’ same group who literally if not brutally knocked on the primal Titan and Leviathan’s door step with enough balls to take the battle right on their territories.
Not that they had a choice now a days… Whichever way that accursed wheel lands they’re force to follow like a bunch of puppets being guided under the strings of a hidden puppet master. The grim thought caused her already soured mood to go rancid at the very idea of it. Unfortunately it was just a near close description to how their lives revolves within Hydaelyn. They were nothing but pawns for the gods to toy around with. Negative thoughts aside, the girl’s vermillion tinted orbs drifted towards the down body. Taking only a few quick glances to assess the amount of crimson liquid flowing from the numerous grievous injuries lining the boy’s lower half.
Just her luck as well. It was another blond, another one sharing the same age line as her. Calling him a boy now would… likely incite the old saying ‘pot to kettle’ against her. Now if he was also taller than her… then she was going to kill a bitch—
It was by sheer instinct alone, paranoia that she managed to sense the upcoming presence charging her way. His warning coming right at the same second the large bipedal monstrosity almost shoved its large claws for her back. Moving sideways prevented that unfortunately mishap from happening. Causing the girl’s lips to purse thinly into an irritated scowl. Possible the only emotion she’s shown aside from the blank mien ripped out from the face of a porcelain doll over her face. The same neutral façade that worked better on a machine rather than a delicate looking young female.
She was called a doll for a reason… she guessed that was it, though the fragile appearance of her form was the cause of too many inconveniences on her side when it came to her chosen profession. I mean really, who would trust a fragile looking doll to be able to take too much punishment as a tank. Well.. its something she’s working on. But getting skewered by some unknown creature was not going to help in that regards. Her eyes narrowed. Deep within its pits the darkness lingering behind it stirred as though forming the window down to view the depths of the abyss within her eyes. There was an eerie gleam lingering within there, just the aura she possessed practically screamed unnatural. She was in a sense unnatural. She ducked another clumsy strike from the beast, parrying it casually with the sharp end of her blade as acting as in autopilot rather than her taking notice.
Really… did she have to be obvious how she gives zero fucks what type of injury she gets? She couldn’t get anymore blunt if she tried. The bored, disinterest expression never lifted from her face before she moved out of defensive and straight into offensive. She didn’t have time for play time. The boy was bleeding, either she rushes, or he dies from bloodloss and then have to explain to the roaming knights why she suddenly need a shovel to bury a dead body. Grim yes, dark humor much? Guess playtime was over… though when did she ever have a play time? Another voiceless sigh before a sudden miasma of black energy whirled around her, red mixed in the black malevolent forces as she activated her connection with the abyss. Dark side activated check.
Now it was time to… take out the pest, not check. Well she’ll correct that momentarily. And correct it she did when she practically swerved to the other side of the beast. Using the same momentum to drive her blade to cut through the sides of the beast. Rendering the same bloodless effect it had with the first creature. Heartless really never do bleed… this was probably her second encounter with them. As interested as she was to study how they ticked, she had more pressing matters to deal with. In one quick follow up, she brought her blade straight for the creature’s head. Beheading it in the process before she allowed the corpse to disintegrate into nothing. Once she was done, she made her way briskly over to the boy’s side while checking to see if there was anything to be done or how safe it was to move him… Which… in her limited medical knowledge was going to be a bother.
@tapir [attr="class","mizocredits"] [newclass=.mizocredits]width:90px;padding:1px;border:1px solid #969696;margin:5px;[/newclass][newclass=.mizocredits a]color: #d3f4ff;font: bold 6pt calibri; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: uppercase;[/newclass][googlefont=Muli][newclass=.TheGreatGatsby]width: 89px; height: 89px; border:1px solid #201f24;transition:.7s[/newclass][newclass=.tgg:hover .TheGreatGatsby]filter:invert(100%); -webkit-filter: invert(100%); transition:.7s;border: 1px solid #f0f0f0;[/newclass]
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Post by Deleted on Mar 25, 2018 19:31:01 GMT -5
Roxas’ birth’d been different from other Nobodies, or so his increasing surreal visions would have him believe. Most like him were passionless shells, lingering corporeal ghosts of memory and matter. Even simple expressions were solely work of reflexes, the slurry of serotonin and adrenaline that were normally the kindling of emotive fire long since cooled. There was a peace in that he supposed, the dulling of mental static, a clarity of purpose. Roxas had been assured daily by the twelve souless warriors who’d raised him that their kind would never feel whole, condemned forever to a raw gnawing ache, unless they forged their own paradise from the hearts of others. But Xion and Roxas had a secret, shared in guilty glances and occasional indiscreet admissions. They could feel, hurt in ways that was more then just bodily instinct, expeirence joy greater then mere rote pantomime. How? Why? After that dream with Sora, Roxas’d started to have a theory, but still none of it really made sense. Hell, if it was even real.
But watching this chick fight, those faded memories certainly felt like reality. It was hard to really pinpoint what about her brought on the recollections, her blank expression, dull crimson gaze, completely silent mien even the heat of battle, definitely the cold brutal efficiency she beheaded things brought on uncomfortable memories of Marluxia. More then the sum of its parts, Roxas was left with the distinct impression that he’d been saved by someone kindred to himself.
Without even a word, she began surveying his wounds with a ‘all-business’ air. Blood loss was playing teasing vertigo with Roxas’ senses as he sat woozily on that piece of floating earth. The sky seemed to spinn about, above, and below him, throbbing with a rhythmic incandesce that left dark spots swimming through his vision. “Thanks, r-really I mean it.” He insisted with what firmness encroaching loss of consciousness could afford. “I’m Roxas,” he glanced down at his wounds and quickly regretted it.
“What your name?” Roxas tried to catch her eyes during the question, blood-soaked eyebrows raising in emphasis. “Are y-you…are you a Nobody too?” He reached toward the warrior’s shoulder, gripped with the instinctual need for touch that comes as life’s light grows dim.
Then came the fleeting recollection of a falling star, balmy night winds on a beach, a dying radiance seeking shelter. With a sensation of feverish heat, Roxas ignited from within.
Brilliant starfire sheathed his skin in a caressing flame. Eager tongues of pale fire danced across his whole body without burning even the hairs of his arms. The holy conflagration consumed the black ichor left by the heartless completely, ravenously even. It seethed and streaked along Roxas’ hand to where his fingers touched the young woman, merciless fluoresce raced towards her tainted flesh like wolves to blood.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 25, 2018 20:57:43 GMT -5
[attr="class","tgg"] [attr="class","TheGreatGatsby"] 自由自在 to be free; completely unrestrained. So much blood… Her cherubic lips curled into a thin line of frustration. How he wasn’t out cold from sheer bloodloss alone spoke of a stubborn spirit. But at the rate he was losing blood would likely see him six feet under if she didn’t do something and fast. Clearly he needed to be brought to the nearest healer or chirugeon. Whichever comes first she wasn’t picky in that regard anything to at least keep him away from having a tea party with the grim reaper. He can be a right bastard when it comes to letting go of souls. She cringed, at the idea. Well now that she thought about it, since when was she ever willing to save someone? Gods damned… she’ll blame Ryan for this and his attempts at trying to wake her conscience up. It doesn’t exists!
In her mind it doesn’t and the next person that disagrees will have a meet and greet with her blade to that regard she promises. The thin line on her lips only got thinner once she noted the delirious tone the boy had on his face. She guessed it was coming, blood loss and all but damn… delirium caused by the lack of blood. She was no expert medic, just enough to get her by should shit come to shit but even a newb like her knew that was a bad a sigh.
Time to find a healer? Time to definitely find a healer. She sighed in silence one hand already lifted the flap on the messenger bag she had on her. Digging through her supplies one handed was a norm for her. As long as she knew what she needed it was a matter of feeling around, memorizing the groves within the glass vials on the potions or the feel of the numerous materials or whichever crap she has in there. Ivonne rarely had troubles when it came to digging through her bag. Okay that’s a big lie. Unless were talking about materias then she should be fine right? She did neglect to send a few prayers up there to make sure she didn’t need to bury someone but oh well. Technicalities. ’Elixer would have to do, maybe a few blood replenishers tablets as well…’ The girl ran through every plausible route she can think off. Conveniently, it also meant ignoring half the babble the boy made. Including his gratitude and him asking her name.
Actually she caught the last part. It was just her decision not to humour him with one. “Sit sti—” Crimson tinted eyes veered back to his face when she saw him reached out towards her shoulder. The hell? Her brow shot up the second the boy’s hand touched her flesh. Well from shock her expression turned into utter confusion maybe a hint of actual curiosity when she spotted the light growing from his hand. From shock then the last was horror, horror from the amount of aether dancing around the boy’s form. The white light, wasn’t just normal white light. It was white magicks! Light magicks, the same spells those studying the arts of healing access. And with his touch… came the sudden pain.
The pain of having the same equivalent as having her insides burn and then sucked out, the energy she held via her connection was slowly being siphoned through. He was sucking the energy out of the abyss through her. The realization smacked at her the first time she figured it out, hence the horror and hence why she for all reasons snapped her connection shut. Closing it off abruptly nearly sent her own aether into a disarray partnered with whatever he was doing… Yeah… it was disrupting the delicate balance of the aether around them. Same balance that she could sense. Every little disruption she could sense, and like the aether it also affects her in unpleasant ways. The yelp that cried out of her throat was just as surprising as her instinctively shoving him away from her before scrambling back a few steps away from the boy. There was pain, the reason for the pained expression overriding her normal emotionless masked as she tried to stifle down the sickening way her stomachs were threatening to turn upside down. She felt… strangely light-headed. Light headed was bad, oh so very bad. But the question remained, just what the seven hells did the boy do to her?!
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Post by Deleted on Mar 27, 2018 2:05:53 GMT -5
It was weird to look down on clouds. From below they gave the impression of misty uniformity, ragged flat plains that coated the sky in the manner of slowly moving paint or cotton. Like Zeus’ numinous cattle, they traveled the sky in herds that carried shade and sleet at the winds’ whims. But plummeting through the stratosphere, Roxas realized he’d never seen them truly until now. In that moment of opening intimacy that turned acquaintance to friend, or fear to horror, cumulus, stratus, and cirrus unfurled themselves like the tumbling folds God’s wedding gown. Some towered in vaporous citadels with wispy ramparts and ethereal towers unconstrained by the laws gravity or weight. Others were broiling cauldrons who’s bowled contures seemed to issue forth other clouds in spirals that appeared like billowed smoke, heavenly alchemy hidden to the ants that toiled below their innocent seeming bases. Numerous were the thin altostratus that seemed to hang from mountainous cumulonimbus pillars like sacred shrouds hanging across the entrances of secret cathedrals to infinite azure freedom.
Into this impossibly mammoth shrine of nebulosity Roxas was cast like a bleeding stone dropping ever quicker towards Hectate’s underworld well.
One stumble back after a sharp shove and his knees giving out in a sickening sway of tattered flesh, and suddenly the ‘If I die in a dream do I wake up?’ question wasn’t seeming nearly so abstract.
Well to be fair…he did just burn a chick with his heart …somehow
The roar of wind along his ears, the sensation of defeat twinned with elations, the vertigo of falling, it all seemed so familiar there was barely room for fear.
Was that him? Had he done this before?
The moist clouds enveloped the boy in their majestic brume.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 28, 2018 20:46:32 GMT -5
[attr="class","tgg"] [attr="class","TheGreatGatsby"] 自由自在 to be free; completely unrestrained. Whoops, just whoops no comment absolutely no comment when she realized the error in disregarding how she reacts to pain she didn’t expect to come by her way. All the boy did was touch her, he just touched her. Touch didn’t equivalent to pain, but his did. Something she wanted an answer to but realized in the last minute she added a bit extra force in her bid to free herself from the shock of her connection towards mother abyss reacting badly. She had to cut it off, either risk the chance of something unfortunate happening or just deal with the faint jolt of having her insides turned upside down a few seconds. She picked the second option. But where was she? Oh yes… Rushing over to the edge while at the same time dealing with the aftershocks. Pesky things, she hated the feel of her nerves dancing to the tune of some static raising through it as though high on some energizer bunny pill.
“Shit…” Came the appropriate term to describe the unfortunate mishap she was now witnessing. Partially her fault there but ehh… TECHNICALITES. She shook the thought, already making the signal to whistle towards the creature hiding beneath the feathery clouds. Light grey feathers cut through the smoky wisp of build up air, cutting a large size hole on the cloud it rammed through once it heard the faint thrill of the call. The large gryphon let out a shrill cry of its own in response to the call. It hadn’t expected its mistress to call that early. But it wasn’t a call for him to come to her side. Another quick alteration from her normal signal had the girl’s hand pointed downwards. Those sharp golden slitted orbs belonging to the creature followed its gaze towards the falling body. Play fetch? The large avian questioned with an intellectual arched of its brow before it gave a gryphon definition of a shrug. Fetch it was, the stench of blood drifted through its sharp senses, nearly making its stomach growl as it dove after the boy. Speed verses gravity often fought each other. It gave another strong flap from its large wings to speed up its descend. Velocity and speed taking its control and in no time the creature managed to swoop down on the boy, sharp talons grabbed the boy’s shoulders gripping onto it a way it normally did when it came to prey. Not really a gentle grab, but its that or death. Easy pick there, the large beast didn’t bother looking down at its prize. It got what he was sent to fetch, so now…the bird flew right back up to where her mistress was calmly waiting by the edge.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 31, 2018 20:05:16 GMT -5
As piercing claws plucked him from a state of free-fall, Roxas’ world became a tumbling confusion of sharp sagittal pain through his shoulders, stomach churning G-forces that made the skin of stomach and skull feel like it was about to slough off, and a grim calculation that being taken back to some bird-thing’s nest to be eaten would off some chance at escape in comparison to terminal velocity. The monster’s gnarled claws, with their gnarled yellowed skin terminating in thick black claws, and shaggy pinions fluttering like downy feathers in the drafts created by the creature massive tawny wings, stood in vital organic contrast against the yawning vacuous void. Roxas felt a kinship to the mouse carried off by a hawk, one last glorious flight before a messy end of munching.
He was unceremoniously deposited in a ragged-bloodstained heap before his thus far silent combination of rescuer and tormenter. “Thank you,” offer Roxas weakly, a certain churlish instinct making the gratitude noticeably less effusive then before. The solidity of weightless stone was comforting. The presence of mystery girl was decidedly more ‘mixed’ this time around.
“Look…”, he began, trying to rise up only to his arms to longer weight-bearing. Long talon-wounds seeped through the slashed shirt-fabric on his shoulders. “you able to talk?” Soft features wrinkled into a grimace cast in anemic pallidness. “Because this quiet-touch-communication thing really isn’t workin’ for me…”
@ivonne
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Post by Deleted on Mar 31, 2018 20:46:52 GMT -5
[attr="class","tgg"] [attr="class","TheGreatGatsby"] 自由自在 to be free; completely unrestrained. To be fair…she had more reasons to be irritated and weary over what he did. She couldn’t explain what he did, or how he did it. But she knew well enough whatever it was, it was damn potent. Potent enough to affect her connection causing that recoil effect to hint her as hard as a freight train would heading on full speed. The girl grimaced, the tingling racing through her nerves barely stopped just as the memory still coiled around her mind as fresh as the second it was minted into her head.
Just… what the hell was the kid?! A powerful white mage? The thought crossed her mind. There is where things get into the impossible spectrum. Healing magics from white mages never affected her negatively. So white magic in general shouldn’t be that harmful to her, only thing there is, its that she cant wield white magic which is the trade off she got from her connection. Nothing that really bothered her. Her frown only deepened once the loud cries of her griffin came into play, shrilling as he ascended with the boy gripped within his talons. Already… she could tell the boy’s wounds just got a whole lot trickier. She sighed, mentally wondering why in seven hells was he still conscience.
The boy was dropped unceremoniously by her feet by the irritate winged beast. Another soft growl hinted to her it wasn’t exactly happy with having to play fetch with a heavy body but the child merely ran its hand around the downy feathers surrounding its neck, petting soothingly as both a reward and a way to say he did a good job. That often pacified the beast, it worked as she predicted when the growl turned into a purr as she continued to ministrations over the beast. That was until he spoke, the soft tune of his voice easily pausing her hand before she turned her attention towards him.
Oh yeah… bleeding body. This is why Ivonne wasn’t a healer or a worker in the medical field. She simply lacked the empathy for it. Still the idea of having to deal with a corpse didn’t bode well with her. “Yes I can talk…” She relented to the fact she would have to eventually talk to the boy. Still it wasn’t to notice the girl wasn’t happy doing so. Not that it ever shows, her neutral façade hardly broke when she noted the red marked of blood seeping through his shoulders. Damn…she really need to trim Zeus’ talons next time. She mentally added it as an afterthought before closing in the distance between her and the boy. “Don’t move…” She warned him again, this time pulling out a vial of thick violet tinted liquid from the bottomless bag she held on her. “Why…you haven’t passed out from blood loss… ill never know…” He did want her to talk right? She wasted no time in placing the vial in boy’s hand. “Drink that it’s a blood replenisher and remove your shirt so I can at least stop the bleeding…. On that… your leg though… I can bandage it but you might need to see a chirugeon…”
@tapir [attr="class","mizocredits"] [newclass=.mizocredits]width:90px;padding:1px;border:1px solid #969696;margin:5px;[/newclass][newclass=.mizocredits a]color: #d3f4ff;font: bold 6pt calibri; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: uppercase;[/newclass][googlefont=Muli][newclass=.TheGreatGatsby]width: 89px; height: 89px; border:1px solid #201f24;transition:.7s[/newclass][newclass=.tgg:hover .TheGreatGatsby]filter:invert(100%); -webkit-filter: invert(100%); transition:.7s;border: 1px solid #f0f0f0;[/newclass]
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Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2018 16:31:03 GMT -5
Roxas complied without a word, the process of slipping his now cruor spattered and shredded shirt over wounded shoulders feeling like a freaking marathon with strength leeching from his limbs. Finally it came free, and cool wind ran like water along bare skin. The breeze’s passage brought a chill to the clammy feverish sweat slipping down the young warrior’s sinewy frame, stringing where it met open seeping slashes. Pectorals livid with bruises rose and fell in a ragged uneven rhythm.
He downed the violet tincture, its medicinal taste eliciting a wrinkle of the nose. “Thank you,” he said in a voice both fainter and more earnest. Offering the empty vial back to her, Roxas began the even more agonizing process of unfurling his pants’ legs so…whatever her name was…could bandage them. On that note: “Hey um, what’s your name?” he inquiring, wincing at the sickeningly organic sound that came as beige canvas fabric was tugged free of where it’ congealed into place with dark ichor inside his wounds. Success proved a mistake, the wave of nausea and weakness came with renewed blood-loss bringing on a rush of darkness. Grass tinkled the skin of his bare back as he sank against the ground, numbness swiftly swallowing thought.
———————
He won't forget.
Who…Namine?
No matter how much I change his memory
Why would you…
Sora will never forget
Who’s Sora? Wait...he's ...
Roxas, we will meet again!
I know…but I …guess…I’ve been waiting so long, losing hope y’know?
Someday soon, I promise!
———————
Morning light pierced through eyelids, a steady glow reddening through thin flesh before consciousness was forced to surface. Roxas stirred, the movement bringing the tugging texture of sheets around him, the soft weight of blanks, the yielding horizontal support of a mattress. Blue eyes opened, taking in surroundings both comforting in their peaceableness but unnerving in their unfamiliarity. He was in a bed, not his though.
Roxas sat up with only the barest twinge, bringing back a wince of self sympathy, though the agony was blessedly gone. Wait…how long had it been then? Aromatic bandages covered his shoulders and looped around his otherwise bare waist, snug and faintly stained with long-dried blood. A shift of his legs revealed they were similarly ensconced.
“Where is this…?”
@ivonne
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Post by Deleted on Apr 5, 2018 19:11:23 GMT -5
[attr="class","tgg"] [attr="class","TheGreatGatsby"] 自由自在 to be free; completely unrestrained. “Oi--- don’t!—” She tried to stop him. It was obvious she did but the man was a step ahead of her. She only said to remove his shirt. Not the wounded leg, she didn’t tell him to move the cloth clinging into the dried blood like some form of macabre papier mache. She only told him the shirt so she can look at the wounds her griffin caused. What she forgot to tell the man was that griffin talons had a type of toxin in them. A numbing agent in which they use to paralyze their prey. She never removed the glands on her griffin. Crux still has his venom… meaning. More work for her, that’s just great.
“Touch the fabric already glued to your leg….” She finished but it was already too late, she noticed it first when his eyes seemed to lose focus and then his body slowly slumping backwards until the boy fell back in a dead faint. She was a second too late to catch his head before it landed with a dull thud on the hard ground. That’s… going to bruise. Or cause a bump to swell on the area the ground hit. The child sighed.
Then… then unmistakable dread chilling her the tip of her nerves. Wasn’t there a rule on… it being a bad idea to sleep when blood loss is the subject? Her gut sunk. Like someone dropped a lead ball into its pits when she ran her gaze on his body. The boy was warm to the touch, feverish due to his fragile form’s desperate attempts in keeping his body warm from the sudden chill of losing so much blood.
“Shit you idiot…” The girl hissed out, cursing her own luck at having to deal with an accident prone boy who didn’t know a damn deal on what not to do.. “Oi don’t sleep you idiot…” She tried shaking his shoulder. Delicate hands stained with the boy’s own blood due to her attempts at pressing against the bleeding wounds. He was losing too much blood… so much blood, his paling pallor and laboured breath easily hinted to the girl if she didn’t do something. Anything, then he really was going to go caput. She already did tie the worse one down. Hoping the pressure would be enough for his body to clot it close for the meantime.
“IVYYYYYYYYYYY” The call reverberated from above, reaching her sensitive ears just as quick as she recognized the owner. It brought both relief at the time it brought down a shiver straight down her spine.
-------
His soft tuned voice caused the owner of the violet eyes to peer from her attempts at trying to wake the blond haired young girl curled on her couch to return to the young boy on the bed, only for those violet eyes to widened once she caught his movement. “Hey don’t moveee, actually don’t even flinch, yeah… that would bad. Moving is bad unless you wanna bleed out like an oinker getting ready to be spit roasted.” The girl harrumphed. Brushing back her silvery tresses as it swayed along with her movement towards the boy’s bed. Silver scales covered part of the girl’s arms and the nape of her neck but more prominently were the horns on the girl’s head. Contrasting against the innocent façade of innocence the girl who looked to be around the age of a teenager. But in reality the girl was nearing her twenties. Au ras often retained their youthful appearances while young… it didn’t help that females were relatively smaller as well.
Though… in her case he might as well blame her style of chosen attire the girl. The lacy white sundress on her person certainly wasn’t helping her.
@tapir [attr="class","mizocredits"] [newclass=.mizocredits]width:90px;padding:1px;border:1px solid #969696;margin:5px;[/newclass][newclass=.mizocredits a]color: #d3f4ff;font: bold 6pt calibri; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: uppercase;[/newclass][googlefont=Muli][newclass=.TheGreatGatsby]width: 89px; height: 89px; border:1px solid #201f24;transition:.7s[/newclass][newclass=.tgg:hover .TheGreatGatsby]filter:invert(100%); -webkit-filter: invert(100%); transition:.7s;border: 1px solid #f0f0f0;[/newclass]
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Post by Deleted on Apr 12, 2018 22:16:47 GMT -5
It turned out Roxas wasn’t alone. A figured protested his temerity from a nearby couch with a flurry of emphatic euphemisms. Whelmed by both the suddenness of her proximity, and bleeding out like whatever the heck a Oinker was sounding pretty bad, Roxas yielded to his watcher’s insistence, sinking back into the bed’s softness. A uncoiling in his back thanked him for it.
Still uncertain about his circumstances, the boy warily watched the young woman’s approach and found that she resembled no nurse he’d ever occurred. In fact, sporting a mixture of pale skin, nacreous scales, and crowned with delicate horns that stood like pointed peaks down which platinum waterfalls of hair cascaded, Roxas’ companion looked somewhat like the creature who’d put him here in the first place. The Twilight Towner honestly wasn’t sure if that meant anything, but hey she seemed nice-ish enough right?
“Sorry,” he ameliorated, glancing up into violet eyes. “Hey, I’m Roxas. …thanks for looking after me,” the boy added, going a bit out on a limb. “What should I call you?"
@ivonne
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