ORIGIN - pretty (ugly before)

Booker wandered the familiar, warm earth of Eridanus, sunlight trailing over spore-filled fur - but it didn't comfort him like it used to. The itch and pull of the scarred-over burns, the useless leg that trailed after him like a badge of failure... it made him shy away from the dapples of bright, turning and wobbling into the shade of the undergrowth. This, this world of darkness and fungal growth, of decay, this was where he felt safe, welcomed. It was why he'd loved Polaris: he could hide away any time, use any of the hundreds of tiny holes in the walls to escape, to get away, to try and forget just how weak he was, at the end of the day. Doubt had begun to creep in over the past few days, as his lame leg made him incapable of travelling out to the carved tunnels, to begin his work as the Mother's scribe.

The numbat had never been one for introspection. Life moved on, and it hurt him - that was just his lot. It didn't matter, though; whenever he was hurt, it was to protect someone else, or to lead him to his next step. And he'd certainly never been one to care for his own looks, nor his scars, or any other impairment this course had inflicted upon him. No, what bothered Booker was the absolute obviousness of his failure. He hadn't been able to help Baratheon, and he hadn't been able to protect himself, either... letting out a disgusted sigh, the tiny Gembound's ears flicked back, trudging onwards, heading for the crystal clear pools of Eridanus. Perhaps some fresh water would clear his mind of this poisonous guilt - though he rather doubted it.

Trembling even from the short walk, Booker sat by the edge of the Eyes, lapping at the water for a moment, watching the ripples distort his reflection. His monocle was gone, presumably somewhere back in the impromptu camp he'd set up for Diot before the fight. His fur was matted and musty with sweat and fungus, the gem spires spiking out of his left eye socket flashing in the light, a reminder of that little gift as well. The scribe's lame leg was shrivelled and almost bare of fur, and a stripe of burn scars ran from the tip of his tail up to the small of his back.

Overall, he looked like... a survivor. But he'd only survived at the cost of others, of those he'd sworn to protect, of his friends, and, full of this roiling fear, Booker dashed at the reflection with a free paw, huffing, focusing inwards to try and shield Baratheon from the negative emotions that clouded his mind like the fog and the flame.

DAMIAN

"it's a cold, cruel, harsh reality"

Lips peeled back, exposing large and sharp fangs as the lycanthrope gave a yawn. He was bored. So bored he was slouched in his position where he sat. Nothing of excitement had been going on. Not since he sent Baratheon on his bloodlust rampage. That had been most entertaining. A wicked smirk curled across his features as amber eyes glinted with a ferocious amusement. There had been injuries strewn across the place and Damian had felt nothing but pure amusement.

Now he was left to wander around until he found the next thing to spark his amusement. Eridanus had not been his birthplace, but it called to him more just about as much as Orion did. The smell of the place was enticing, almost to the point where it was rather calming. His lurking writhin the place had unfortunately not gone unnoticed. He had been tracked down not even a day spent within the area. By a she-wolf no less. A smirk curled over his features, but his thoughts did not last as a sudden sound of movement quickly pulled his musing away.

Amber eyes peered through the foliage he had nested in. The tall ferns and grass just barely covering him. He had grown greatly since the moment he freed himself from his prison. His tail twitched as he soon spotted a very familiar little morsel. He smirked and rolled to his paws, silently lifting himself up to stand on all fours and slowly crept closer.

When he had made it just behind the little numbat he smirked and let out a rush of hot air from his nostrils. "If it isn't Bara's little snack," he purred deeply as he continued to crouch there, watching the small creature with an unwavering gaze.

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"This is how I talk!"
This is how I think!

words: Not enough :'D
tagged: @Booker
ooc: eh I'm sorry it's so shitty. Next post will be better.
muse: 5/10

Licking his paw clean of pond water, lost in thought, Booker heard nothing of the wolf's approach, gazing out across the forest with a glazed stare. Only the feel of hot breath bathing his neck woke him, and the numbat shrieked in surprise, jumping, twisting in mid-air to turn and face whatever had snuck up on him. Panting, it took the scribe a moment to lose the fearful, vacant gape - only to be replaced with a half amused, half angry glare, brow furrowed. "Damian, I pre-sume," he mumbled, shaking like a dog ridding its coat of water before settling back on his striped haunches. Booker raised an eyebrow, inspecting the older Gembound, anger fading, replaced by patient curiosity.

"Dunno 'bout the snack part, considerin'," the numbat added, wiggling the toes on his lame leg in example. "I'd probly taste like mush-rooms, actually," Booker exclaimed, gaze wandering as if caught by the thought. "But if you were wantin' to be the first to try n' eat me, that record's been taken," the scribe added with a chuckle, turning back to Damian with an oddly cheery grin. Ears twitching forward, the tiny Gembound fell silent for a moment, checking on the bond, before humming, the tune mimicking Baratheon's own bonding call.

"Bara's told me 'bout you. Thought you'd be smaller," Booker admitted, raising an eyebrow as he peered up at the... wolf? On closer inspection, he didn't seem like a wolf. Then again, Booker had no idea what he was, so he probably wasn't the best to go to for species identification. "Whatcha doin' in Eridanus, an-ee-way?"

@Damian

DAMIAN

"it's a cold, cruel, harsh reality"

A brow lifted as Booker's words reached his audtis. "Mush-room's don't sound very appealing I'm afraid. Alas, I fear you are safe from facing my fang," A wicked smirk curled across his features as he settled down to rest against his rump, crossing his legs about in front of him. A derisive snort escaped the beast as he eyed the small thing in annoyance. Other's had felt the need to assume he would be 'small' too. He wasn't even fully grown yet. As far as he was aware anyway. He shrugged the comment off and turned his gaze off towards the water.

"What ever I damn well please," Of course he was originally there to catch something tasty to eat. Booker had simply caught his attention. He had thought that Bara would have been around and that had been the original reason he had stalked towards the small rodent. Alas, that amusing dragon was no where to be seen. Then again it made sense with the shape Booker seemed to be in. He would definitely have to find Baratheon and tease him about taking his advise seriously and making Booker such a small snack thing.

"And what are you doing here...aside from staring at some water."

______________________________________

"This is how I talk!"
This is how I think!

words: Not enough :'D
tagged: @Booker
ooc: oops
muse: 5/10