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The delicate art of not being dead - Printable Version +- ORIGIN (https://origin.boreal-nights.space) +-- Forum: IC Archives (https://origin.boreal-nights.space/forumdisplay.php?fid=50) +--- Forum: Year 4 Archives (https://origin.boreal-nights.space/forumdisplay.php?fid=54) +--- Thread: The delicate art of not being dead (/showthread.php?tid=5702) Pages:
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The delicate art of not being dead - Livius - Jun 21 2018
It had been cycles since Envy had last come to Eridanus and their fur, in its new sickly-green hue, blended in quite nicely compared to how it had all those cycles ago. They'd come here on a whim seeking a change of scenery from the dull greys of Orion, and they definitely weren't dissatisfied in that endeavour. They found themselves sorely tempted to sniff at everything and start climbing the tree roots, which they did. @Pride RE: The delicate art of not being dead - Pride - Jun 21 2018 Pride was... practicing. Some of his attempts had been fantastic, and he'd been sure of success; then others had turned out to be a total disaster. Before him lay a long row of small stones, and each was coated in tree sap. The coatings were mostly fairly thin and even, though they varied somewhat. Behind him, however--that was the older pile. The reject pile. A good fifty or sixty stones lay here, some wholly thickly drenched in liquid goop, others somehow charred black, still others with cracked, damaged half-coatings. One was even--by some unknown horrific twist--half-shattered in its encasing sap cocoon. With a soft snort he nudged his latest attempt; it was a little sticky, but other than that, it was good. He'd managed a decent--even good--uniformity by now. The young deer took a few steps back, raising his long and slender neck. He was nearly fully-grown, now; a young adult stag, with the long tines atop his head that promised great and branching antlers some day. He was much larger, now, too: a good two hundred pounds, though slender. His coat was still white, and still fine and short, with no stag's mane yet to be seen--but his gaze as he looked down was quite mature and thoughtful. And pale. The irises themselves--the pupils, too--were a milky white, rather than the silver grey of before. He had to look very closely to see what he was doing, and it was the nudge of his nose that told him his work was good. It isn't perfect. But it is good, and it's consistent. It's probably the best I'll manage. Pride again blew air out through his nostrils, thoughtful, and looked over his stones. @Envy RE: The delicate art of not being dead - Livius - Jun 22 2018
Envy made it to the roots of the tree and bounded back onto the mossy ground. They raised their nose to briefly sniff, and then bounded after the scent. As the scent grew stronger, it became intertwined with another scent- bitter, earthy, and mildly unpleasant. Envy followed it, and came upon a mound of sap-covered stones which reeked of that strange substance- which Envy could now tell was tree sap. They peered past it, and saw a pale shape towering, along with a row of more sappy stones. @Pride RE: The delicate art of not being dead - Pride - Jun 22 2018 Pride heard Envy's voice--and caught their scent--far before he saw them. He turned his head, watching the vaguely-shifting, small dark blotch moving toward his stones, and tilted his head a little. He had to study them through the milky haze to get an idea of their shape, even. I can barely see enough to walk, let alone to do--this... he fretted. Was he risking too much..? "Envy? That is you, yes?" he asked in his melodic, fluting voice. "This is-... practice. I may have a way to help you, though it is risky and--I must say it--it will be difficult to perform now. My vision has been damaged," he added. His tone was aloof, but soft; he wasn't bothered, just well-spoken, as ever. He paced around to one side to give Envy full access to the stones. "I have been learning to move small drops of tree sap with my mind, then heat them, and then solidify them with cold. I was thinking that it might help at least the surface of your stone, though it won't do much for you where it contacts the flesh. A coating to protect the rest of your mouth might be useful?" Pride looked to the stones, and then to the weasel, patient, and a little concerned. He wanted to try this--he was ready, or as ready as he could be--but he was unsure about the chances. The last thing he wanted to do was make things worse. @Envy RE: The delicate art of not being dead - Livius - Jun 22 2018 Pride seemed... off. Something was different compared to last time. They opened their mouth in surprise. Pride barely recognized them! "Of course it is! How many handsome green weasels do you know?" Pride went on to describe potentially helping them- that was what these stones were for? The weasel's tongue curled In their mouth, tasting the smooth marble surface on the back of their tongue. But Pride also said that his vision had been damaged. "Hold up, hold up. One thing at a time- damaged? What do you mean, damaged?" @Pride RE: The delicate art of not being dead - Pride - Jun 22 2018 He was disappointed, a little, but he quickly disregarded that. This was Envy's risk, and he wasn't about to pressure them--they were right, really. Better to wait-... but. "I am... unsure that it will improve," he admitted quietly, "but we can wait, and find out." He stepped a little away from the stones, delicately, offering Envy a brief nuzzle of greeting before lifting his head high and looking idly around. Granted, everything was vaguely-shaped blurs of color, but his ears and nose were working, too. He had no desire to get leapt upon by a predator whilst chit-chatting. Satisfied that all was still clear, he spoke. "I was attacked, quite without reason, by another creature. A bird of some kind--I suggest you watch out for it. It is brown, with a long, black neck and a white patch on each cheek, a very jagged beak, and a strange... amalgamation, I suppose, of spines along its chest. In the ensuing fight one of my own spells hit too close and blinded me--that is my own fault, really." He shook his head lightly. "Still, I warn you to be wary. The creature was mad--ranting of philosophy and morality--but utterly immune, I'm afraid, to the 'sickness' of logic. Anyone that would try to kill a hatchling should be put down, really. It is a mad and dangerous creature. And," he added--and here, his half-blind eyes narrowed some, and he stamped one silvery hoof--"It tore free a bit of my fur. I would like to see it again, if only to take that back--or to kill it," he added. He felt no moral qualms about potentially killing Blackberry, even in cold blood, whatsoever. "Do you know where Reseda is? I wished to warn her too but I cannot travel well like this, and I don't know if she would be back in Canis. If you see the thing, avoid it; but tell me. I would like to try to kill it, this time." @Envy RE: The delicate art of not being dead - Livius - Jun 22 2018
Envy didn't know how to respond to that except with a low and unhappy grunt. What could they say? "...Maybe magic can help. Have you tried? I have magic that improves vision. Maybe something of that sort," Envy offered after a while, brightening, with uncharacteristic optimism. They remembered how they'd aided Amazon, how grateful she'd been. Surely there'd be something that they could offer Pride, too, even though it was a far cry from his usual magic. Maybe just healing would be enough. RE: The delicate art of not being dead - Pride - Jun 22 2018 Pride eyed Envy with amusement. "Yes, she did start it," he agreed. He blamed her wholeheartedly as well, and while he said he wanted to kill her--and probably wouldn't feel a thing in doing so--it wasn't really his plan, either. "The fur was taken as a prize, Envy, and as a trophy. While I congratulate you on being called King," he added, "I would also say that should you find this goose, and help me get that fur back, then this... 'Lust' would not be the only one to call you this. I cannot do it alone, not with these eyes, but anyone who did help would have my loyalty. I would go so far as to swear an oath of it. But," he added, in a tone of warning. "it is a vicious thing. I do not think it to be particularly dangerous, but it can cut with bill and talons, so do not get yourself hurt." He liked Envy well enough, and did not want them hurt, or dying, on his behalf. Not for a mere scrap of fur. But if they did manage..? Well, if they did, he would be in their debt. Obviously. "Perhaps we ought to find Reseda, if she is still in Orion? She should be warned. And you should warn 'Lust,' as well." @Envy RE: The delicate art of not being dead - Livius - Jun 22 2018
Envy's eyes widened, they felt their fast-beating heart hammer, swelling inside their ribcage. The little green weasel couldn't help but feeling a tide of excitement swell inside their chest, making them want to jump for joy. Pride's loyalty, and fealty, sworn by oath... that was something they craved. And if they were truly to lead Reseda's ragtag little team, it was a must. But they used every ounce of their acting ability to stay calm, their excitement expressed mainly in the bristling of every inch of fur on their form, and the increasing speed of their paws combing their chest. @Pride RE: The delicate art of not being dead - Pride - Jun 22 2018 Pride gave the closest thing a deer could manage to a shrug. "Well, it is your decision, I suppose." He was not feeling cunning, or coy; he wasn't even really deliberately manipulating the weasel, though certainly he was capable of doing such things without remorse. More, it was a plain offer, laid out: an exchange, with the currency of loyalty for the tradeable service of potential murder. It made him wonder, really; were there those who would kill others, merely for shiny objects, or for food? It might be an exciting and interesting life... and a useful one, for those who needed such things. "Where is Lust now?" he asked. "We can meet them now, warn them, if you wish." @Envy |