Strange Days

[edrabt]

[Closed to Cyrus]

Stuck on some backwater planet in a reality, Ethel sensed, quite displaced from that which they had come, had not been part of the original plan. Traipsing through the darkly-wooded pine forests of what was unknowingly known as "Northwestern Salvar" on a largely uncomfortable autumn morning had not been part of the aforementioned plan either, so she supposed that grousing over their current state of affairs was pretty much a lost cause, seeing as the 'original plan' had been thrown to the razor-legged gimbas(1), pretty much. For the past...several days, she had lingered among the shadows, careful to remain hidden from the occasional natives who wandered around, wearing herself out as she grasped at slippery bearings.

Why had this happened, and for god's sake, WHO sent her here?

Speculation was worthless.

It was time to focus on the nows and whens of the situation, in lieu of past events. There was still a possibility that, somehow, she could return to the Outer Veil and set things straight. Human Self stuck a spidery hand through Animal Self's ribs, netting a single flake from the scant multitude which dusted the low-hanging gray of sky. The flesh of the hand was like blue-veined ice. Yet Human Self did not shiver. She never shivered. Thus, her catch remained in solid form for, perhaps, a few seconds longer than it would have if resting on warmer skin.

"It is beautiful country," came the child's contemplative voice as she sat within the larger Animal Self, whose gears whirred with strange artificial rhythm as ruthlessly clawed feet plodded along earth solid with an early frost. The tiny words complemented the overall strangeness of the scene in its entirety; here a walking corpse threaded clumsily through the black nettles of evergreens, hide dripping off in fat, salty rolls; bones and muscle and organs plain for everyone to see, alongside various mechanical trappings. Inside its cavernous chest sat little Human Self, cross legged as ice caught in her thick chestnut locks and settled on the periwinkle folds of her jumper. Strange.

Just then, the ground collapsed beneath her -- meaning both Human Self and the carriage of Animal Self -- in a near-perfect aureole, sending her crashing a good fifteen feet down.

{1} - a type of viscious eight-legged domesticated fowl.

[Deadnight Warrior]

Through the white backdrop of the Salvar cold raced a black figure, smoke trailing the beast and its rider as they rode effortlessly through the snow. Its hooves did not pound the ground, for the Nightmare's surface was the air itself, and it ran an inch above the snow. Artume so appreciated this fine aspect of his mount.

He huddled low against his warm ally, pulling a thick hood over his black hair and keeping it there. The whipping wind stung him wherever it could, often sneaking under the hood to lash at his cheeks. The man dealt with it as well as he could, determined to make the journey to Sulgoran's Axe, where he intended to look over some of the mining and possibly take it up as a hobby. The trade had always interested him.

It was unfortunate, but Artume soon reached the part of northern Salvar where the flat ground ended and the mountains began. It was here where he needed to dismount Valhalla and dismiss him to his figurine. The man wasn't willing to walk now, knowing the sun would be down before he made it to his destination.

Luckily, he spotted a hole nearby where he could take shelter, and hopefully protect himself from the elements for the night. There was a slim chance he'd be comfortable, but it was all he had.

Moving to the hole, Artume looked inside to see a strange animal he didn't quite recognize. Still, it was in the shelter he was looking to use, and perhaps it's strange, silver fur could provide some measure of warmth if he skinned it. Drawing Dispatcher, the human went to the edge of the hole and slid down the length of it, landing hard but safely. He quickly approached the beast and raised his sword, looking to do away with it cleanly.

[edrabt]

Ethel lay still for a moment, Animal Self's single optic array buzzing frantically as it adjusted to the dim lighting present in the hole. Human Self's own sight was forsaken whenever she was with the latter, and thus the wide blue eyes remained unfocused, her brain receiving the visual information via magickal linkage. What was this...hole, so perfect in execution? A trap laid by the savage bipeds of the land? Or a simple weakness in the earth they tread?

No...not a weakness. The shape is too flawless. This has been dug recently.

Great. She was in no condition to battle whomever appeared to collect their prey, though Ethel suspected they might leave well enough alone upon spotting her in all her outlandish glory. Animal Self began to rise as, simultaneously, foot steps could be heard nearby. Something blocked the fading light for a fleeting moment. A man-ish scent was caught. Both Selves held their breath and moved not an iota.

The obvious-male-whatever-it-was slid into the cavity, landing a few feet before her, a glistening metal blade drawn and raised with murderous intent. Child Self let out an ear-piercing screech which faintly emulated the ringing of distant bells, and, acting on pure instinct, shoved her knee through the ribcage and let fly a small barrage of watermelon seeds which clattered listlessly at the man's feet.

[Deadnight Warrior]

The screech of the creature was eerily human-like, but even more so, it was loud. Artume cringed. A dozen small, black missles flew from the creature and struck his boots, but his feet were too cold to feel them. Finally he could get a closer look at the animal, which, he was shocked to realize, didn't appear to be an animal at all. It was a strange thing, half organic and half mechanical, unlike anything he'd ever witnessed.

He kept Dispatcher raised -- just in case -- and approached, his eyes skewed and his body tensed. He didn't want to kill the thing anymore, at least not until he had some sense of what it was, but he was more than ready to drive his blade through it if it showed more signs of hostility.

Looking down, Artume slowly bent and took one of the pellets into his hand. It seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place what it was. He rose again, the seed still clutched between two gloved fingers.

"Strange thing," he mumbled, awaiting some further sign of activity. His curiousity piqued, he was unsure as to what to do with it.

[edrabt]

With growing apprehension, she watched the guy bend to retrieve one of the seeds in his gloved hand.

Well of course he ain't scared of it. Just a watermelon seed afterall...

...

Damnable worthless seeds.

"Do not come...any clos-er," ordered Human Self in her young, sweetly-accented whisper of a voice, standing (more like crouched over) in the open chest, a hand extended with the palm facing outward. Maybe if she tried speaking rationally, he would slow his progress.

"You will...not gain any-thing by uti-lizing that large...glistening...slab of un-iden-ti-fied me-tal, pre-sum-ably steel. Be-sides you are trapped in this hole same as me."

The skeleton of Animal Self jangled to her full height, the equine skull swinging threateningly on the hinge of vertebrae as if about to fall clean off. Inside, the female child form swayed in accordance to the uneven movements, hand remaining out-stretched.

"Go a-head and...put it a-way," she rasped again in the halting Tradespeak, unseeing azure orbs staring in the man's general direction.

[Deadnight Warrior]

Blade raised, Artume was prepared to do away with the thing before it could throw any more surprises his way. He was too slow, however, and the next surprise was big enough to steady his hand for good. It spoke, rather well, suggesting he stop and sheath his sword. His mouth was agape for but a moment, before the man composed himself and slid his sword back into the scabbard at his hip.

Ever confident and relaxed, a disarmed Artume spoke back to the thing. "No, no. I merely came down here to escape the wind and the coming cold of night. I'm not trapped at all. You, however, are trapped, for you don't look like the kind of beast which would be capable of crawling out of here."

"I thought your hide might keep me warm, but from so close I can see you... Don't have skin at all."

He coughed, awkwardly trying to decifer the strange connection between the metallic-organic mixture of a body and the small girl who sat within its ribs. The human wasn't quite confident enough to crouch close and inspect, and wasn't sure if he wanted to, anyway.

His eyes washed over the thing again and again, until he finally gave in and asked. "What is this thing you're inside?" he wondered, assuming the girl was alive and the thing she sat in was some construct she'd created. "And, if I may be so bold, my lady, why are you inside of it?"

[Ashiakin]

Please contact me (or a regions mod) if you would like this opened.