[P] Holding Out - Printable Version +- HELOVIA || The Way to the Sun (http://helovia.com) +-- Forum: Out of Character (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: Archives (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11) +--- Thread: [P] Holding Out (/showthread.php?tid=22192) |
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Holding Out - Ashamin - 12-30-2015 A S H A M I N on his own Somehow and slowly, the haruspex was beginning to heal. Hotaru's razor cuts and electric burns still marked his flesh without mercy but he'd done what he could to keep them clean. Ashamin had known Tiamat for long enough, been healed after enough spars, to pick up a thing or two after all.
Apply these leaves to the site. Eat this for the pain. Don't lie down on the injury. Bathe often. Breathe easy. Everything is going to be alright. It really all came down to the last part: conviction that even with some blood staining your coat, your life wasn't going to end. So Ashamin walked slowly, taking the time he needed to rest on occasion and pick himself up when he started to stumble. He wore little, not able to bear the weight of his armor, and wandered alone. In the bright of day, his two companions slept soundly and safe in his cave. The painted buck hadn't had the heart to drag them out with him on this errand. And it was truly an errand. Something to keep his mind off of the pain, something to busy himself and occasionally bite down on. He and Johnny had been talking about an event for some time, so Ashamin figured that now was as good a time as any to prepare. He made his way through the meadow, nosing through dried grasses and searching for anything that could be useful and he could carry back in his sarong: shed scales, dropped feathers, still living flowers and any last straggler berries. The day was brighter than he would have liked, but at least it was quiet. At least he could live it out alone. @Volterra RE: Holding Out - Volterra - 12-30-2015
@Ashamin RE: Holding Out - Ashamin - 12-30-2015 A S H A M I N on his own The dark stallion that approached screamed this: threat. Ashamin had somehow not encountered many dragons in Helovia, and the sudden presence of two that circled and clung to this stallion so protectively put him on edge. The part of him that longed for Lochan and Rakt was the same part of him that was glad they were home safe from this possible danger. Then again, maybe Ashamin was simply being paranoid. It wasn't as if this equine had said anything unkind, wasn't as if he'd even cast Ashamin a frown. The haruspex's long tail snaked behind him through the grass uneasily, he struggled to steady his heart and helped it along with magic. He had to focus, he had to reply. So "No one," he said eventually and with the faintest of smiles, the most subtle upturn of the lips' corners. "I've found myself tangled up in a Goddess' request, taking pain from magic is my task." My sacrifice, he thought. My lie. Because though he had promised the Goddess one thing (one thing that he would give her) he had accomplished, also, another. He had hurt Thranduil, a member of his herd, for selfish reasons alone. Ashamin swallowed and exhaled, watching the faint puffs of white flit away in a cold breeze. "These," he said with a turn of his head to gesture to the healing cuts on his flank, "were a favor from a friend." It hurt more to simply call her a friend than it did to walk closer to the stallion. It hurt more than anything. Ashamin extended his cheek for the stranger to touch, shaking off the alarms going off in his head and trying to avoid the dragons' gazes. This was his greeting, this was the gesture he'd been taught. "My name is Ashamin," he offered informally, arching his neck back so his coal eyes cold find the stallion's. "Yours?" @Volterra RE: Holding Out - Volterra - 12-30-2015
RE: Holding Out - Ashamin - 12-30-2015 A S H A M I N on his own There is something about the stallion that is, to say the least, off-putting. Ashamin watches him carefully, holding his own breath and eyeing the stranger even as the greeting was reciprocated. Volterra, as he learned the other's name was, looked to be about half his age but significantly stronger and well, larger. The offer of pain coming from him, a total stranger met just moments ago, was troubling. Who would offer to hurt someone they'd just met so readily? Ashamin's tail lashed behind him when his head could not shake. It was the snake in the grass, the expression of all he had to hide. He tried to focus on the dragons, who seemed less threatening and more beautiful now that they were closer. The threat diminished further when earth rose beneath the red one and lifted him up; the antics were comical, nothing to be scared of. "It's a pleasure," Ashamin breathed absently and belatedly. Who knew if that were true; maybe this would be the worst day of his life. But the sharpening of the plateau, the sudden instrument of violence made from earth, clarified the haruspex's understanding. This stallion was offering to hurt him. This stallion was offering to hurt him with that. "Fascinating," he unconsciously let loose from under his breath. He was a haruspex, after all; dangerous as it was, magic in all of its forms would always fascinate him. He wanted to say, very kindly and with the tact that always inhabited him, no thank you. He thought wildly, you're crazy, that's a damn spike, you could kill me with that and I don't know that you wouldn't. Are you insane? Are you insane? Are you INSANE? But Ashamin simply shuddered, simply stepped further from the stallion and put forth his leg (how else could he be injured by that spike without his organs shutting down?), and shrugged his shoulders like there was nothing else to do. "Do your worst, then, Volterra." @Volterra RE: Holding Out - Volterra - 12-30-2015
@Ashamn RE: Holding Out - Ashamin - 01-04-2016 A S H A M I N on his own The dark stallion's warning, it will hurt, rang in the haruspex's mind. His leg quivered, the shadow cast beneath it became a blurred, thin line. Ashamin looked down at it, black eyes wide as he faced the fear of what was to come. Was Volterra going to kill him? Was he absolutely insane for granting a stranger permission to hurt him like this? Or was he just desperate, trying in vain to do whatever he could to write his wrongs? The Moon Goddess had given him two options, a choice. He had chosen the path of piece and promptly turned, instead, to violence. Now he would make up for it, now he would punish himself more than he had to. Hotaru's magic had left him with injuries deeper than most he'd had, ones reminiscent of the ones left by Torleik's horns. How would Volterra's earthen spike compare? And then, the terrifying question: would he even survive it, or was this masked man aiming for Ashamin's heart? With a swallow and a nod, he could only watch. His tail coiled in impatient anticipation, and then... Pain. It stuck him sharp and red like an arrow through the soul, but he could do nothing but obey its command. His teeth gnashed together and his hind legs stiffened as he relied on their support. He choked on the hurt, tried not to cry out in an attempt to seem tougher than he actually was. Then again, maybe after all this he really was stronger. His tail snapped and his black eyes locked, cold and determined, with the stallion who wielded such power. He would not ask him to stop, would not beg or plead. Instead, as the blood dripped down the rock and his leg shook with tense anticipation of painful release, he spoke two, terrible words--forced them from betwixt bicolored lips and contorted them into an unfortunate truth. "Thank you." @Volterra (Didn't say the spike went down since you didn't write it but wasn't sure. Thanks for your help!) RE: Holding Out - Volterra - 01-09-2016 No worries! <3
@Ashamin RE: Holding Out - Ashamin - 01-24-2016 A S H A M I N on his own The cheer in Volterra's voice was just as horrifying as the blood that spurted from Ashamin's leg when the giver of the wound's spike retreated. Ashamin found himself woozy, perhaps at the sight but most certainly as a result of the feeling. Even far from here the companions of the haruspex stirred in their sleep, troubled by a distant, mental scream. But Ashamin did as he had before, gritting his teeth to avoid showing the pain. The other stallion was perhaps a bit more sadistic than Ashamin felt comfortable with, but he had the grace to leave quickly, to not linger. Advice to consult a healer, perhaps a too-eerie sense of pleasure, and he was gone. The moment Volterra's body left the clearing, the Haruspex fell to the ground. He buried his face in the dirt, screaming bloody murder into the soil and a mouthful of dead grasses. Blood still fell from his leg, more painful than most spar wounds despite the composure of its happening, and Ashamin knew with certainty that he would need more than herbs to heal this injury. Consult a healer, Volterra had told him. Wise boy he was, massive idiot Ashamin was for getting so hurt in the first place. But it was for magic. It was for protection. The haruspex fed himself beautiful lies to stave off the pain, all the while wondering, all the while hoping... is it worth it? There was a certain bitterness in the pain, Ashamin found, now that it was unnecessary. Had he not completed one of the Moon Goddesses' chosen tasks, and hurt a member of his herd? Could he not return to her without this injury, before this day, and still have done as she asked? Why, he wondered as he lay crying alone in dirt stained with his own blood, did he have to pretend he was so goddamned virtuous? Consult a healer, Volterra had said. But time came and went, the sun began to set, and Ashamin did not rise. In time he would, and in time he would slowly begin to limp home. Halfway there he would meet one companion; a quarter of a way, the next. For now though, as the blood slowly dried, the haruspex simply stayed where he was. He needed some time to heal. He needed to be alone. @Volterra Done! Thanks :) |