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CAVE STATUS
QUESTS/EVENTS
Autumn arrives, subdued by the caves' depths. Skittering leaves, thick fog or drifting mist, and cooler temperatures provide a crisp fall atmosphere. The spectres of Andromeda drift in and out of visibility, and pumpkins begin to spread beneath foliage shifting into hues of amber and flame. Strange whispering can be heard at the edges of empty tunnels, and the Carnival seems more boisterous than usual...
Baratheon could see the fear in his eyes and he thought it was because Booker was afraid of him now. He couldn't blame the poor little numbat. He wouldn't be afraid of a monstrous dragon? However, that little numbat just turned around and surprised him. "You are not a monster, Bara!" He blinked, surprised by the conviction in his strong but tiny voice. How was he not? The dragon gave a small, humorless laugh. "You've never seen how I am..." He said quietly. Would his opinion changed if it actually happened?
Baratheon shook his head softly. "But... It's still me..." Sure, he wasn't in control but it was still himself doing the deeds. "When I snap out... out of that haze it's still blood on my fangs... on my fur..." It was still him no matter which way it was spun. It would still be Booker's blood if it ever came down to it. Booker's blood in his mouth... He almost felt sick.
He looked away, embarrassed by Booker's words. The dragon gave a snort, sending a rush of pink smoke curling out of his nostril. "I didn't want to hurt you... I wanted to help... You were so small... so defenseless... How could I not?" It was all simple to him. He couldn't hurt something like the little numbat. Despite what he turned into when he scented blood he normally liked to help others. It was nice to give a part of yourself to better someone or something else.
His eyes started to mist over then... Not because of Bloodlust, this wasn't a red haze but one that clouded his vision and blurred everything as the tears finally pooled out. "But... sometimes..." He sniffed and clenched his fangs together as he forced out his next shaky and quiet sentence. "Sometimes... I do enjoy it... I like to fight... I like the feeling of testing my opponents... I like..." He shuddered but it wasn't a side-effect of him crying, it was one of him imaging the blood. "I like the taste of blood. That was how I... got hurt this bad... A rhino attacked me and I threw myself at her... I wanted to kill her... but I... I could feel the Bloodlust coming but... I didn't want to stop it..." His voice was hollow with the realization of how he'd wanted to end the rhino. To killer her. The only reason he hadn't was because of the black dragon taking that kill from him.
"I... I... Thank-you..." He could feel it in his heart. He was grateful for Booker's presence, grateful that he had someone who believed in him. He looked up at the little brown head with the whiskered snout peeking down at him and he smiled, tears flowing more but this time because he was happy. "I have a secret to tell you..." Even through his tears he managed a small laugh, this one happier than his first. "I don't really like to be alone... and... I love you, brother."
Jul 31 2015, 12:31 AM (This post was last modified: Aug 10 2015, 09:31 PM by Booker.)
MAGICKA LEVEL 100% RESTORED TO 100%
How could I not? The words hit Booker like a lightning bolt, and he straightened up, pointing a tiny finger at his brother. "That, right there! That's what I mean. When your disease isn't taking over, you wouldn't even think about hurting me," he said. At the talk of battle - and just how the dragon had come to be so injured - the numbat hesitated, trying to step into Baratheon's proverbial shoes. "Well... you're a hunt-er, Bara. Me 'n the mush-rooms, we're prey. It's nat-chur-all for you to like fighting. And, and! You just said she attacked you, so it's not like ya just went and hurt some random Gembound," Booker reasoned, waving his front paws about in exuberant gesticulations.
Still, hearing his own brother recount how, exactly, he'd gotten his injuries made the small Gembound's stomach flip. He could have died. He could have died, and I wouldn't have even known it, maybe not for weeks. The thought made him a bit faint, and Booker sat back with a heavy sigh, wincing when the impact sent a bright flare of pain racing up his spine, no doubt from the burns lacing their way from his back legs to his tail tip - which was wrapped firmly around Baratheon's nose horn.
"You're takin' all the blame for this... but think about it. You said yourself you can't control it, yeah? But maybe you just need help. Just... let me help you, Bara. Please?" The plea was made leaning over to peer down into a pink eye, the numbat's own eye wide and matchingly tear-filled. Booker grinned at the hint of a smile on his face, ready to keep rambling in a bid to get him to actually rest for more than a few moments, when the dragon spoke.
Booker stared. And stared. And stared some more. In fact, it was a wonder nothing living had decided to take up residence in his mouth, given that it was open in a startled o, jaw working to produce any sound. "You... you do?" The spark of awe worked its way from the numbat's eye to his face, a grin slowly forming, and he wiped at his working eye, trying to stave off the tears he knew were about to start flowing. Book barked out a matching laugh, though his was thick with tears - and, no doubt, a congested nose, from the volume of emotions being poured out here. "I-I love you too, Baratheon. 'n you don't have to be alone, any more. Ya got me! Always have, always will."
Another grin, and a twitch of long whiskers. "n' that's a promise, brother."
"Of course not... I wouldn't..." His eyes widened. Now he understood why Booker wouldn't blame him. It was him but it wasn't really him. He was a hunter, a killer when he needed to be but he wouldn't hurt his friends. That was for certain. "When you put it that way..." If the rhino hadn't attacked him he certainly wouldn't have have blasted her and thus made her bleed. The girl had started that deadly game, not him. He tried to remember if he'd ever hurt some unsuspecting gembound while not in Bloodlust. Usui could almost count but again, he'd brought prey and that had set him off. Not once had he ever wanted to just fight and kill someone outside of Bloodlust or the throes of battle. Minus, the dark one... but that was an entirely different story.
The pleas from Booker... They nearly shattered him. They made him want to break down even more than he already was. This little numbat didn't know what he was getting himself into but... He couldn't say no. He couldn't turn down that face, that voice, anything. If Booker wanted to help then he could. Bara would just try his hardest not to hurt him or give him fair warning if he felt the fever coming on. Hopefully he could keep the tiny gem out of danger and maybe... just maybe... this one could help him. After all, didn't Giggle say he would find someone to help? He certainly couldn't turn him away now.
He hated feeling weak, hated when others made him feel weak but now as he listened to the numbat's pleas. He felt a weakness inside of him but it wasn't like his sickness. It wasn't a weakness of the body that made him feel bad or dizzy or nauseated or burned him with rage because he wanted revenge. No. This was a weakness of his spirit, one that Booker brought out... This weakness was welcome unlike the other feeling. He knew that the numbat would forever be able to influence him like no other but it didn't upset him. He felt grateful for it. That someone would forever be with him in his heart... He really wouldn't ever be alone.
He didn't speak for a while, simply looked up at the numbat standing on his snout. When the numbat's mouth fell open he laughed again. "Be careful or some flies might go in there." Then, he was serious again. Smiling through the tears at his small brother. "A promise." He agreed. A low rumble came from his throat then but unlike the earlier growls it wasn't an intimidating sound. It was a soothing one and one that showed happiness from the dragon. Baratheon couldn't remember the last time he'd purred but if he had it had been a long while ago before he had even hatched. It was a rare but comforting sound coming from the dragon.
"An' you... you can help me." He felt in his heart that unlike the others who'd tried to give aid that this would be different. That this would actually yield results in some way. "Perhaps you'll be the lucky one that... can do something..." Who knew? Stranger things have happened.
Jul 31 2015, 04:45 PM (This post was last modified: Aug 10 2015, 09:32 PM by Booker.)
MAGICKA LEVEL 100% RESTORED TO 100%
Booker giggled as the purr rumbled through his big brother, ears twitching at the noise. If a sound could be a hug, this was the closest to one the numbat could get, and he crouched down, peering into one of Baratheon's eyes with a content smile. This was, in fact, the calmest he'd felt since... well. Probably since his own hatching day. It seemed the dragon had that general effect on him. Plus, he's finally realizin' that this disease isn't his fault..."'course I'll help you! No matter what." A short nod, and Booker's gaze moved to the older Gembound's wounds, a frown overtaking the soft smile. "But first we gotta take care of those wounds, before they get in-fek-ted," he murmured, trotting down the dragon's neck to settle onto his back, peering at the myriad of injuries with a wince.
The numbat scurried down his brother's back leg, stopping on the ground to look up at the dragon. "Stay here for a sec," he asked, before turning and hurrying off, burn wounds stretching and stinging with every leap and bound. Booker scouted the area around where his brother had collapsed, huffing in frustration at every empty corridor and wind-filled room. There has to be something here, he reasoned sullenly, ears twitching for the slightest sound.
post roll:
A few more minutes of this miniature patrol, and finally, a prize: a tiny clump of moss, barely visible in the dark corners of Cetus. Booker pried it off the wall carefully, clutching it in his mouth as he hurried back to Baratheon, climbing up the dragon's tail and pressing it to one of the bloodier wounds. The plant acted a bit like a sponge, helping to clear away dried and sticky blood residue and stopping the flow of any more. Book kept his front feet on it for a bit longer, grinning proudly. "I figured this out a bit ago, when I cut my paw on some rocks," he explained, holding up the appendage to show a tiny, almost invisible scar. "The moss helps stop the bleedin', and hopefully it'll ward off in-fek-tion." With a glance down at the current wound, he hurried to the next, repeating the process with a soft hum.
"You're the doctor." He didn't even try to dissuade the numbat from helping him. He could tell his brother was set in what he was going to do. Baratheon was a model patient, laying there and letting the numbat crawl all over him to examine his wounds. Baratheon simply kept tabs on him with one ear swiveling in the direction that he could feel the tiny gem moving. He could feel the other moving down his leg and then he heard his little brother tell him to stay put. The dragon snorted with amusement, "Yeah, I'll try to refrain from dancing away." His voice was dry with sarcasm.
While Booker was gone Baratheon decided to entertain himself... Well, he decided that for a few moments until he felt exhaustion pulling at him once more. He puffed a few pink smoke rings out of his nose until his eyes grew too heavy to do much more. They gradually began to close until he was asleep ad lightly snoring. This one was a dreamless sleep and didn't last long. He awoke when he felt something pressing against one of his wounds.
His skin twitched in the area that the mongoose pressed the moss to. It was a bit uncomfortable and he might have complained but he knew that Booker knew best when it came to healing wounds. Baratheon got himself injured but he knew nothing about healing himself besides licking the wounds to clean it. As it was the dragon simply turned his head part of the way around so he could fix one large pink eye on the numbat. "Hmph... who knew?" He rumbled. "I'll leave you to it..." He turned his head back around and stared ahead, puffing the pink smoke rings out of his nose again. "After you finish just promise me... you'll sleep? I can tell you're tired... and hurt..." They both were but he knew Booker was even more tired than he was letting on and far more injured than he was willing to tell. Baratheon could tell though and if push came to shove he'd rather that Booker let his own wounds alone so that the numbat could rest. Moss could help but so could sleep.
Jul 31 2015, 11:01 PM (This post was last modified: Aug 10 2015, 09:32 PM by Booker.)
MAGICKA LEVEL 100% RESTORED TO 100%
Booker frowned, but nodded, flashing Baratheon an exasperated grin. "Alright, alright, I'll sleep, big guy! As long as you do too," he offered, patting the skin next to the wound before moving on to the next, wringing the moss out over the far side of the dragon's back and returning, trotting about to each wound in reach before finally climbing back up to his brother's head, curling up between his pink horns with an exhausted sigh. "Okay," he murmured around a yawn, "may-be you were right about sleepin'."
And just like that, the numbat was out like a light - although the sleep was anything but restful. As soon as he dropped off into dreamland, images swirled into technicolor life. At first, everything was black... and then, fire. Walls of it, toppling down onto him, and Booker scrambled to flee, barely keeping ahead as the embers came again and again in waves. Then, a flash of black and green - Khloros, trapped, screaming within the ocean of fire. The numbat turned, dashing for the vision, barrelling through the flames - only to topple into the abyss, that awful roar echoing through his head.
The vision kept going, and in the waking world, the tiny Gembound's breathing sped up, feet kicking. The fire didn't let up, chasing him down into the darkness, seeking him out with a tongue of flames and burning claws. His breath came in short gasps, punctured by chest-rattling coughs, the smoke crawling down his throat and into his lungs like a some sort of monster. Keep going, keep going! The thought urged him forward - and just like that, the fire was gone, leaving Booker trembling in darkness. And then: a figure, slumped and still, the only thing illuminated in the pitch black.
Booker slowly walked towards it, hesitation making his feet stumble, and his gasps grew shallower, more panicked, the closer he got. No. Baratheon lay on the ground, still, eyes wide open, staring into the nothingness. His wounds were fresh, festering, and the heavy scent of death clogged Booker's nose. "No! No, no, no," the mumble went on, muffled as the numbat collapsed against the dragon's side, eyes wide and seeing nothingness.
He awoke with a muffled shout, blinking back tears, shivering in Baratheon's mane and clutching tightly to the strands of blue hair, panic attack still in full swing.
"Of course... I can barely keep my eyes open..." Which was the truth. It was only the constant patter of busy paws across his back that kept him awake. He waited until the numbat returned to rest between his horns then he let his body relax. "Sleepin's.... the best thing... right... now..." He yawned, long and loud, before he closed his mouth. Sleepily he smacked his teeth together. He tilted an ear inwards towards his tiny brother, checking on him and finding him breathing deeply which he was sure was a sure sign of slumber, then he allowed himself to doze off.
The dragon was out in an instant. His dreams were uninterrupted now that Booker had found him. He again fell into the darkness of a no-dream sleep that allowed his body to rest and recuperate. His body inhaled and exhaled with a deep, rumbling breaths. He slept on, unaware of the numbat's dreams. He didn't become aware until he heard the panicked screaming. Instantly Booker's voice cut through his sleep and he came awake on red alert. His teeth bared and he raised his head, a growl ripping through his throat. Was something wrong? Were they being attacked?
"Wha--? What is it?" He felt a little woozy still and his head protested how fast he raised it by setting up a steady throb in his temples but he ignored it. If he needed to fight then he would to protect Booker. "What's wrong? Danger?" He was still half asleep as he rose the rest of the way, legs shaking as they tried to keep him up. He spread out his wings to help keep balance. Satisfied, he noticed that his belly only protested a little and though the room was slightly unsteady he wasn't at risk of falling over.
He tried looking out with the pink haze of his vision but could see nothing. Confused, he sat down on his haunches and looked upwards as he tried to see up to his little numbat brother. "Booker? Are you alright?" He blinked sleep out of his eyes as he peered up with concern in his eyes. He could hear the panic, almost feel it. Had he had a bad dream? Or what was wrong?
Aug 01 2015, 01:26 PM (This post was last modified: Aug 10 2015, 09:34 PM by Booker.)
MAGICKA LEVEL 100% RESTORED TO 100%
Booker, trapped in the confines of his own mind, couldn't make his mouth move to reply, focusing on gasping for air, lungs filled with the phantom sensation of smoke. The numbat tried to loosen his grip on Baratheon's mane, sure he had to be pulling the strands of hair, but found he couldn't move his paws, either. Thoroughly frozen, the tiny Gembound waited out the attack, shivering. What is it? What's wrong? The gentle words washed over him, and he huffed out a weak laugh. Without fail, it seemed the dragon cared for the numbat first, regardless of how badly injured he was from Raheerah and the rhino.
The level of protectiveness, of affection, made the attack slowly wind down, and after a few more minutes, Booker seemed to come back to himself, immediately releasing his vice grip on the dragon's hair, mumbling apologies. "I'm s-s-sorry," he stuttered, eyes wide as they darted about, finally pinning on one of his brother's ears, staring blankly. "I... I..." Slowly, the numbat gave up on speaking, patting at the dragon's head as if to assure himself that yes, Baratheon was really there, and no, he wasn't dead in the middle of nowhere, lying wounded and alone. "Bad dream," came a low mumble, a few moments later.
The tiny Gembound shook his head, slowly getting up on all fours, grimacing at the feel of sweat hanging in a thick cape over his back, making his thin fur stick together in clumps. "G-guess it made me have n' attack," Book offered, the words drawled out and slightly empty, shock still draining him of energy. "Don't worry, 's fine. Are you feelin' any better?" Taking note of the outspread wings, the numbat slowly crawled up to sit on Baratheon's snout, clinging to his nose horn for balance, peering into confused pink eyes. "We could hunt if ya need to," he offered, determined to brush over the dream and subsequent panic attack - though if his big brother would let him was another thing entirely. The numbat offered a shaky smile, though it soon fell back into a grimace, wounds itching. Should've cleaned 'em earlier...
Baratheon could feel the increased pressure on the strands of longer fur at his blue mane. It didn't really hurt though and he was able to ignore it in favor of what the numbat was saying. "No need to be sorry." He slowly released the tension in his body, tucking his wings at his side and shaking out each of his legs as he tried to released the soreness. "Oh... I'm sorry..." The dragong pondered over what he should do about a bad dream? it wasn't something he could fight nor was it something he could chase away. "Would you... like to talk about it?" Would that make it better? Perhaps it would to explain what had terrified him in the sleeping realm.
The dragon turned his head towards the gorge, noting the water there at the bottom. "Don't worry... just a dream... Dreams can't hurt us..." They meant nothing... It's what he told himself every day. He tested his muscles, checking every part of his body. Muscles still sore but his wounds shouldn't be bleeding anymore. Headache still going on, still still churning... He wondered if he would be able to accept any meat in his gut let alone try to catch it. "I feel leagues better than before but... Not one hundred percent. I'm afraid a rabbit could give me a hard time right now." He gave a rough laugh though the
revelation left him a little bitter. Admitting weakness was a tough thing for a dragon.
"No hunting... but I could use a drink. I'm thirsty an' my mouth tastes like crap." With that he began to walk towards the water. His first few steps he nearly stumbled and fell but after a few more he steadied himself. Tail dragged along the ground and wings were slightly spread to keep him from falling.
Upon reaching the water he lowered his head and began to take huge gulps of it, scooping gallons down his thirsty maw. "Much better..." He rumbled. Then, quite on impulse he walked straight into the cool water. He shivered at the coldness but with his thick and strangely made fur it was completely tolerable. He made his way to the middle of the pool where he was able to lay down and completely soak himself with just the top of his head and eyes above the surface, just in case the numbat wanted a place to sit if he remained on his head. The cool water washing over his muscles relaxed and soothed him. He lifted his muzzle just high enough to speak and said, "Should wash yourself off here... feels niiii-iiice..." He didn't know if numbats swam but he was right here. He wouldn't let the little gem drown.
Would you... like to talk about it? The words made Book shiver, and he closed his eyes against the rush of adrenaline that followed, riding the wave out until it passed, leaving him shaken but, at least, more awake. The numbat blinked back to attention, smiling tiredly down at Baratheon, shaking his head. "I... not yet. Maybe after I feel more... awake." Another shake, as if he could get rid of the vestiges of the nightmare like a dog whips off water.
The dragon's words soothed him, and slowly, Booker relaxed, leaning back on his perch and listening with a soft smile. "Y-yeah, you're right... dreams can't hurtcha." Still, the words were unsure, as the smell of smoke still lingered in his nostrils, clogging his lungs like an insidious disease. "I just..." The tiny Gembound let out a frustrated huff. While he might not have quite as hard a time with showing weakness as his big brother, it still stung to be so out of control of his emotions, swinging back and forth between terror and comfort like a pendulum. It was just a fire. It's not like it can hurt me anymore. It's safe now. Somehow, the thought didn't help.
The feeling of being displaced, off balance, remained, and finally Booker just shrugged, letting out a tiny, exhausted laugh at Baratheon's attempted joke. "I think one of the mush-rooms could take me right now," he admitted, trying to stop from itching at the pulling wounds criss-crossing along his back. As the dragon began to move, Book clung on to his pink nose horn, wincing with every stumble. Still dizzy, or hurt enough to have balance problems... Filing the information away, the numbat scurried up to sit at the crest of his brother's head, between his main horns, watching as the world below moved by.
Then, just like that, water surrounded them - and for the first time since the fire had incinerated his home, stolen his sense of security, Booker relaxed fully, flopping over onto his side with a contented sigh. No way could the fire reach here, the numbat thought with a grin, adjusting his monocle to peer into the pool. He giggled as the rest of Baratheon was swallowed up by the liquid, leaving only his head to lounge on. At the dragon's advice, Book scurried to lean over one side of his brother's snout, pawing at the water in wonder. "I've nev-er seen so much water in one place b'fore," he murmured, voice echoing out across the surface.
With a shimmy and a determined huff, the numbat dove in, icy water at first stinging his wounds and then soothing them. Floating to the surface with a grin, he chattered, whiskers twitching. "It does feel nice," he exclaimed, paddling about in the pool and looking quite similar to a drowned rat. Still, the numbat dove and surfaced in lazy figure-eights, waiting for most of the dried blood and dead hair to wash off of his back and tail before paddling back to Baratheon, tiny paws patting at his chin. Wonder seemed to fill his working eye, as if the numbat had just discovered something amazing. "We actually made it," he mumbled, grinning. "We're okay!" A delighted laugh, and a splash of water as he dove again, noodling about in the icy pool.
![[Image: newbarachib_copy_by_solaris_meadow-dav2sw8.png]](http://orig02.deviantart.net/8ce8/f/2017/011/0/9/newbarachib_copy_by_solaris_meadow-dav2sw8.png)
