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12-03-2014, 11:56 PM
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Gull
Trouble just grew wings... Ah, so Flamethrower has a name it seems. “I Gaucho the Wildfire, Sultan of Dragon’s Throat,” he replies evenly, unfazed by your awkward reception. Of course, none of it means anything to you—you get that Gaucho must be his name, and the fire bit makes sense, but sultan? Dragon’s Throat? They’re words as foreign to you as the stranger himself. No, wait—a memory begins to stir at the mention of this “Dragon’s Throat”…hadn’t you heard it somewhere before, somewhere— But before your mind has time to connect the trail of dots between Dalibor and Gaucho, your entire sense of reality goes to pieces. For out of the sky swoops another stranger, one who would have caught your eye with her beautiful gold–tipped wings, were she not sporting the mark of the devil upon her forehead. Yes, there, protruding wickedly from her skull, is a single pointed horn. She lands with the kind of light thud and beautiful flourish of feathers that ordinarily would have sent your heart into your throat, but you find that you can only make a strangled noise, unable to comprehend this atrocity. Blue eyes dart from wings to horn, not understanding…what—no, how…? How is this possible? You don’t know whether to loathe her or to pity her, but thankfully in that moment you cannot summon the capacity to do either. You only feel numb, nearly dumbfounded with shock. Naturally, Flamethrower—er, Gaucho, takes it all in stride. You’re barely even surprised when it becomes apparent that he knows her. Of course he does, you think, suppressing a hysterical giggle as you watch them greet each other. What’s next, will some talking seal come crawling out of the sea? Why not? And maybe then it can rain feathers and the sky will turn green! You chuckle darkly under your breath to no one in particular. You must appear like a lunatic to the pair, standing there with your feathers askew, with your wild eyes and your occasional mutter, but the mare chances a greeting anyway. “Hello,” she begins, even more casually than Gaucho, “I’m Ranjiri, who are you?” A cleverer pegasus might have lied, and a kinder one might have returned the pleasantries. But you are only Gull, and a very confused Gull at that, and thus your terse (but true) response is really all you can manage at the moment. “Gull,” you murmur numbly, still staring at her horn in horrified fascination. “I’m Gull.” "talk talk talk" |
Please do not tag Gull except for in opening posts or spars!
