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 Hunter Hunting, Amelia and Erestel


I don't understand why people think immortals are wise. If I had all the time in the world to grow up I wouldn't.



bones
Oct 29 2017, 02:05 PM / Post #: 36877 Quote



It was hard to say where they were. Much of the world looked about the same in recent months. Even though the Blight had been defeated, and no longer plagued the citizens, animals, and vegetation of Ga’leah, it still left a smoldering wasteland in place of what had once been a vast world full of life. Most of the remaining population lived at the Five Corners or Caerleon, with a few still inhabiting Xehacora. Everywhere else was still too sickly to sustain life for long. However, in this corner of what had once been Dokrayth, a few miles north of the ruins of Aeswick, life was just beginning to take hold again. Her own life, while still her own, was different now as a result of the Blight. She’d met the pirate Amelia Bonny, who had brought her - albeit a bit reluctantly - to Caerleon. Miraculously, she had not been recognized or hunted, and in fact had made herself useful in defeating the Blight. Now, she was working at the castle, something she never thought would happen. There also weren’t many bounties on her head anymore, seeing as the majority of her clientele and those who hated them were dead.

Not that Andrea didn’t run across problems. Every so often, she’d take an odd job (old habits die hard, after all), but they had been so few and far between that she couldn’t bring herself to worry about it anymore. Now, she and Amelia were out in the wastes hunting dragons, of all things. The wicked hybrid creatures still roamed, they just were no longer under the control of the would-be goddess Maleficent. Amelia was technically one of them, except Andrea had managed to bust her out of her father’s cave before he could completely hand her body over to the dragon soul. Instead, she was now an extremely powerful shapeshifter with a tail that made Andrea green with envy. Not that she ever wanted to see her father again, but couldn’t he have given her a proper tail? All she could do with hers was swat flies. There was too much equine left in her body, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

With dusk nearly upon them, Andrea stopped feeding the fire, watching as the slowly dying flames flickered lazily in the gentle breeze. The trees around them still showed little to no signs of life, but little shoots of grass and weeds were beginning to pop through the murky, damp ground. Amelia was out, probably scouting the area they would hunt next. They went out almost exclusively at night, as they both could see quite well in low light and most of the dragons were more active at night anyhow. She’d caught a couple of rabbits earlier, and while they were a bit scrawny, they appeared to have been eking out a living in the dismal place. Maybe the world would be inhabitable again sooner than she thought. Leaning back against her bag, she glanced around at their little camp. It wasn’t much, they’d strung up some furs as shelter, each with their own pack of supplies, a few bladders of water each and the little fire Andrea had been nursing for the last hour since they’d cooked their somewhat pathetic, but satisfying meal. They hadn’t seen another soul in days, and because of this, and the warmth of the fire Andrea was getting a little too comfortable. Her bow was leaning up against a tree a few yards away, and the only weapon she had on her at the moment was a dagger.

Glancing at her fingers, she saw a generous amount of dirt caked under them, and without hesitating plucked the dagger off her belt and began to gently scrape them clean. The only thing that was worse than dirty fingernails in her eyes was blood in her hair. It wasn’t because she was aware of the color clash, but she hated the feeling and the smell. First it was like putrid water. Then it was like tar, then it was just this crusty, smelly shit that attracted flies. Dirt under her fingernails felt wrong, and it looked wrong too. As she picked through each nail, she found herself wondering when the hell Amelia was going to go back, and whether or not they might come across something interesting today. With their luck, probably not.



I'm full of wisdom. I'm also full of bullshit, though, so: Caveat emptor, and suchlike.



Alistair
Oct 29 2017, 03:12 PM / Post #: 36880 Quote

Hunting Hunters At least, we're supposed to be hunting...
Amelia was less disappointed than she would ordinarily have been at the last of action for the last couple days. She'd been afraid there would be dozens, hundreds like her roaming the wastes, but since the initial excitement claiming this territory from the pair that had been circling the skies before, it seemed the rumors of a number of the hybrids trying to organize had been... exaggerated, to say the least. On the one hand, it was certainly a good thing for the sake of the world - individual dragons were destructive enough, and given the monsters the surviving humans had just handled, Amelia figured that most people had enough monster-fighting to be getting along with for a few centuries.

That was most people, of course. Not so much for her, clearly. But Amelia had always lived for the next fight, and her experience with the Blight really hadn't changed any of that about her. Not for the first time, it had brought her to reflect on the fact that she might not be completely OK in the head. Certainly the dragon coiled in the back of her mind hadn't tired of being let out to fight... maybe she'd been paired up with the right spirit after all. Which wasn't going to stop her separating as many parts of Viktor's body from the rest of him as she could manage, next time she saw him. But she supposed there were silver linings to almost everything.

But hell, walking the ruins of Dokrayth and elsewhere in the world could get depressing. She might have been a criminal, but even a pirate liked a civilization to thrive. Made it hard to steal when everything was already dead or burned to the ground. Without the fighting to break up the monotony, it was hard to avoid the crushing reality of just how bad it had gotten. And she supposed that was the problem a lot of people were having. Without the active struggle for survival to occupy the mind, plenty else could creep in. Plenty that was much less enjoyable than little things like having to worry about getting bitten and infected with a plague. At least, to Amelia's preference. She had always spent time training on a daily basis with her sword and otherwise, keeping herself sharp - with a whole new physical form to get used to that had doubled her need to do so, but even that only occupied so many hours in a day.

While she and Alexandrea had agreed it was a bad idea to actually make camp in any of the ruined towns, it didn't stop Amelia from looking through them. Their prey might not have had the same issue though - or, she had thought, there might be something else worth finding. In this case, she HAD been able to find a ruined pub... SO it was that when the pirate ambled back into the camp with her redheaded companion, she set an unopened bottle of rum down on the rock next to the other woman.

"Found presents. Not shit for entertainment though. Think it's time we give up on this wild goose chase? Doesn't seem like the fucker's are grouping up after all. Leastwise not here." She unbuckled the sword from her belt and set it down as she sat, pulling one knee up to her chest as she took a knife and began cutting away the wax seal on another bottle so she could get at the cork.




I'm not a thief. I'm just really good at acquiring things that aren't mine.



Erestel
Nov 1 2017, 12:16 PM / Post #: 36917 Quote

For the first time since the Blight, Erestel looked out into the stretch of wasteland that spread wide before her, lamenting a little over the loss of valuables that were once sold here. She had spent her first night in a shallow overhang of ruins on the outskirts of the Wastes, unconcerned whether she could keep up with the trail of her targets. She was confident that should she idle too far behind and lose their path, or if she was simply feeling lazy, that her bird form would more than make up for the task. She spent the remainder of her second day hiking through a good length of it, trailing them on four legs instead of two, and careful to remain unseen. While their fragrance permeated the air as human, another musky odor mingled with it, confusing and undermining her abilities as a tracker. It festered in back of her mind she was unable to place the particularly muted scent.

Perhaps it lent to why they were so hard to find, though she dismissed the idea rather quickly—it would have to wait for an answer until later. Once she was at a generous distance, she retreated from her predator form, her fingers tightening from the pain of change. She wasn’t sure if the pain lessened over the years, or her tolerance for shapeshifting simply increased. That had been one of the few questions no Druid, or their lore could answer.

Erestel was careful to twist and weave about the landscape to avoid disturbing the fowl overhead. The fire burned low in the distance, the red shape of it leaping up and down, flickering with every gentle gust of wind. Their camp was sparsely furnished with a few skins and other necessities, but it had no luxuries to speak of apart from the small fire. It meant they were comfortable—too comfortable.

Ensconced in shadows and brush, she took to her raven form to observe for a moment. Her sight in this form was always as off-putting as it was exceptional, but it served her purposes well enough. She drew back her arms—now wings, and wheeled into the sky. She stopped in close, flitting from tree to tree just like any bird, but keenly aware of the passing time. No one paid birds much heed, especially ones that fed on carrion, and she was glad of it as she turned back southward into the brush.

Her thoughts faded as she landed in a spot that provided cover on all sides, and her instincts took over. She wasted no time covering the trail back to the camp, but careful to keep her footfalls silent. She leapt from the shadows behind the tree nearest Andrea and into the firelight. Erestel seized the bow and stretched it level to her shoulders, notching the string with an arrow and flexing it even quicker in the direction of Andrea’s head. She took a quick step backwards, keeping from an easy arm’s reach. Erestel nodded to the sword at Amelia’s feet, and lifted her gaze to lock on the pirate.

“Throw it over, nicely. You do anything other than that, I shoot.” Erestel put as much venom in her tone as she could, but her eyes were solemn and uncompromising as stone. She expected at any moment to hear the sound of drawn steel, and she half-hoped for it. It was dull if people simply went quietly, but hoped she was not less than astute in her plans for capture.

“And you,” she nodded towards Andrea, “keep your hands where I can see them.”


Tag Bones & Alistair
...sorry it's not the greatest.



I don't understand why people think immortals are wise. If I had all the time in the world to grow up I wouldn't.



bones
Nov 5 2017, 12:20 PM / Post #: 36959 Quote



She’d been dozing off when Amelia showed up, and immediately upon her hunting partner’s arrival she sat upright, intrigued by what she had in her hand. It wasn’t until she set the bottle down that she sat up and grinned. While raiding emptied bars was not really their job description, Andrea figured that after a week of this nonsense without any luck at all, they deserved a treat. Rubbing her hands together, she leaned forward, inspecting the bottle and not bothering to try and contain her happiness. “Have I mentioned lately that you’re my favorite? Because you are.” She was so focused on the bottle of rum that she almost didn’t catch Amelia’s suggestion. It was a fair idea, though Andrea wasn’t sure where they should go next. They couldn’t have all disappeared, there had been hundreds, maybe thousands that her father created. Unless Maleficent had enchanted them all to die with her, but that seemed unlikely. Especially since Amelia was still here, although she was an incomplete project so there was no telling what she might have missed.

“Maybe we should be going farther north,” She said. “Or towards the mountains. There are less ghosts in the mountains anyways.” Andrea made a face. This was one of the most haunted areas in Ga’leah, or at least that was what the rumors. She’d seen something in her dreams the other night, and thought she caught sight of a distorted face in a puddle. Yet ghosts didn’t bother her for some reason. Sure, she woke with a start from dreams of howling spirits but after that she just carried on with her day. Maybe it was because all of her worst nightmares were alive and she couldn’t give any less of a shit about them anymore. Faces, whispers, ghostly incarnations of lost people…it didn’t bother her. However, she was very nearly alone in that belief. It was why the region was so deserted, why nobody came out here. Not to mention, many who had initially set out were no longer the same, or they didn’t come back at all. Amelia didn’t seem bothered by it either, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t ready to leave the wretched place.

She heard the sound of movement too late, and looked around just in time to see a young woman pointing her own weapon at her head. The first thought that went through her mind was: Can I survive a direct shot to the face? Answer: Probably not. Andrea was good at healing but she wasn’t that good. The second thought was how the hell had she managed to sneak up on them, the third thought was a hint of grudging admiration for her spunk in following them out here. Or finding them…or just being out here. She had no idea how long the girl had been out there. When she demanded Amelia toss her sword away, Andrea sighed, her expression irritated. She had good enough reflexes that she could block a shot aimed at her head with her hand or arm, that much she knew she could survive. Not really in the mood for dying or killing she glared at the girl.

“Oh put that away and come join us for rum before you shoot somebody’s eye out,” She said irritably. “I’ll admit, you’ve got some nerves coming out here on your own. I respect that. But that doesn’t mean we won’t kill you. What do you want, my coin purse? Pocket change?” She reached down into her bag, pulled out her coin purse and shook it in the air. Seriously, this was not what they needed right now. Why had they not been paying more attention? Why hadn’t they noticed? It was a bit pathetic, really. Perhaps they really had been convinced that nobody in their right mind would follow them out here, several days walk from the nearest civilization into the most haunted region of Ga’leah. But still…they should have seen her coming.



I'm full of wisdom. I'm also full of bullshit, though, so: Caveat emptor, and suchlike.



Alistair
Nov 12 2017, 09:40 AM / Post #: 37023 Quote

Hunting Hunters At least, we're supposed to be hunting...
"Careful now, I'm susceptible to flattery." Amelia winked at Andrea as she sat down, taking a glance around the area before she started to settle in herself.

"Less ghosts... Fucking hate ghosts. What's a lady with a sword supposed to do about ghosts? Honestly." Amelia shook her head a little bit at that scowling at the notion. She wondered if there was some kind of coating she could have put on her sword for that... who knew? Even if she changed shapes she didn't know if her dragon had any ideas for what to do with those sorts of things. She didn't reply when asked - sullen, scaly bitch. They'd come to a certain level of understanding since being trapped together in the same body, but that didn't necessarily extend to the level of friendship.

She was taking a swig of rum when the blur darted into the area, and for Amelia's part, while she went tense for a moment, she just lowered the bottle and took a drink. "What, the rum?" she asked, perhaps alarmingly casual for someone who had just been ambushed. It really had nothing to do with what she'd been turned into - Amelia had always been like that. Being put at a disadvantage only made things more fun, which was probably going to get her killed, one of these days.

Plus, it was actually pretty hard to tell what someone was nodding toward, when the other person was being nonspecific.

"If you want rum, the aggression really ain't necessary... unless ya really came here to play. Which is fine too - this place is boring as shit." She gestured with the bottle to the general area, frowning again. "Supposed to be all sorts of dragons nesting in these mountains, but turns out, it's just us two. Disappointing." She dropped the dragon bit in a somewhat ambiguous way, letting their attacker take it however she wanted. But Amelia didn't make any move at the sword, for one reason or another.

She did, however, take another swig of rum.

From a practical standpoint, the situation was pretty bad. She didn't have Andrea's cheating fae blood, and she never wore any real armor, her clothes were just tough enough to be practical and handle general scrapes, not to stop blades or arrows. Plus, she shifted forms a bit slow for a situation like this - not enough practice, really. So it really depended, in a lot of ways, on how good an archer this lady was. She hadn't brought her own bow, so it probably wasn't her favorite weapon. Wasn't Amelia's favorite, either. Really she was just attached to her sword.

"At least the day's not so boring now. What's your name, anyway? Sorry, I know, we're terrible prisoners. No respect whatsoever. It's what everyone says."



I'm not a thief. I'm just really good at acquiring things that aren't mine.



Erestel
Nov 25 2017, 02:31 AM / Post #: 37125 Quote

A mirthless smile withered from her face, and her thin eyebrows knitted together. A moment’s pregnant silence stretched as she paused, unsure, and studied the woman’s face. It quickly dawned on her she was serious, and her expression soured. Andrea’s words stirred up petulance, and she resisted letting the arrow go. Shoot an eye out, Erestel repeated internally with a glare; half tempted to actually shoot her eye out. Her jaw tightened at the discontent of being treated like a child, but settled for a huff of derision and disappointment instead.

“If you offer it up so simply, I will gladly relieve you from the heavy burden,” she responded, mouth twisting in a wry smile, and eyes lighting up. They were an unremarkable color in itself: bright amber outlined by dark brown, but it was a sharp contrast against the white curls of her hair. Her face was slender with high cheekbones, and her arms bore olive skin with long fingered hands free from most grime and calluses. She wore two short blades on her belt from which also hung a few pouches of leather. One of them was cloth and hung small and curiously heavy. Her boots looked fit for the travel, but despite the finery of her clothes they bore rips and tears. The brocade still glinted with golden details in the dusk, lending some hint to her upbringing. Beneath it, she stood short and lean under leather wrapped fur. Occasionally she would shed her clothing for rags to blend in, but she hadn’t found the need to appear so threadbare as of late. Erestel knew her clothes sometimes attracted unwanted eager looks, but for the most part, she didn’t care.

Her bemused smile said she wanted a lot more than some pocket change. Hairs pricked the back of her neck, impatient to hurry the anticipated conflict. Her instinct screamed for her to attack, and leap on them both until they bled. “I could always take you hostage quietly, but somehow, I doubt you like that option much more. Nobody ever does,” she sighed with a little disappointment, expression wilting. Erestel never wanted bloodshed if she could avoid it, but in these cases she’d learned it was near inevitable. Still, it was a nice option to have on the table.

To her, there was no nerve in coming here, and in fact, she was not bothered by the haunts in this area. As far as she was concerned, she was already used to her own, but these at least had the decency to be visible.

Erestel raised a thin brow in the direction of Amelia, shooting her an incredulous look, but piquing her humor. “Let me spare you introductions. I already know your names, and mine isn’t important.” Her lips turned up slyly, eyes flickering darkly. “Play--perhaps. Let me make you both a counter offer. How about I take your rum, gold and anything else worthwhile—and let you live?” There was a mischievousness in her expression that said she’d held back on the fine details of her deal on purpose.


Tag Bones & Alistair
...meh. I like the dialogue at least. The rest of this post can go suck it.



I don't understand why people think immortals are wise. If I had all the time in the world to grow up I wouldn't.



bones
Dec 17 2017, 06:29 PM / Post #: 37274 Quote



Well, at least she was getting on the girl’s nerves. Or at least, that’s what it seemed like. She watched as Amelia addressed her and wished she could be as suave. Mostly she was just annoyed. They were hunting dragons, they didn’t have time for being…hunting! Who hunted hunters? Seemed like a bad business plan to her. At least it wasn’t boring? She thought about this for a moment and then sighed. “I mean…you’re not wrong.” Andrea liked boring sometimes. She wanted to hang out and drink rum, maybe sing some songs if they had enough of it, though she doubted Amelia had much more than a bottle, which wasn’t enough to get her properly tossed if she drank the whole bottle herself. So odds were, their evening would have been excruciatingly boring if little miss blondie hadn’t showed up. Still, she was properly miffed.

When she didn’t seem to react to Amelia’s dragon comment, Andrea decided then and there that she was just stupid. Granted, it was also an easy thing to miss because generally people did not look at the pair of them and thing “Oh yes, those two must be dragons.” It just wasn’t really in their appearance, and technically speaking, Andrea wasn’t actually a dragon at all. Still though, this kid was about as arrogant as they came, thinking she could waltz out into the middle of nowhere and attack a couple of trained killers with nothing but a stolen bow. Of course, she never would have gotten it if Andrea had just kept track of her own damn weapons, but she honestly hadn’t expected to run into anyone other than some dragons. Which brought her back to the shred of respect she felt for this girl. Whether or not she thought she had em, she had some serious nerves.

At the girl’s proposed offer however, Andrea felt something snap inside. That little smirk…it was probably meant to set her off, and by golly it had worked like a fucking charm. Getting to her feet, she stepped over to her friend, grabbing the bottle of rum and taking a long swig. For starters, she was going to need it, but it also gave her an excuse to subtly place herself between Amelia and their (probably) soon to be attacker. Part of it was because she liked Amelia, the other was that it was nearly impossible to kill Andrea with an arrow, and if it was going for her eye, heart, or something that might actually kill her, she had the reflexes to block it with something less necessary - like her arm. Or her hand. In any case, she wanted to make damn sure this kid wasn’t about to do any lasting damage. When she was done taking a drink (which was about a quarter of the bottle), she set it down and sighed. “I don’t have any gold,” Reaching into her pocket, she grabbed a small bag loaded with silver and raised it carefully, so as not to set her off with shooting eyes out. Then, as she spoke, her lips pulled back into a snarl. “Just SILVER!” Then, she threw it at the girl’s head with every ounce of strength she had, which was quite a lot for a woman her size. Was it entirely possible that the girl would shoot her before the bag of silver made contact? Probably. But there was enough silver in that bag to give any normal person a mild concussion on impact,and if she’d moved fast enough, it might cause their assailant to lose concentration or even drop Andrea’s bow, which would mean the fight was over before it had begun.

“You’re right, I don’t want to come quietly. And I can’t imagine why anyone would want to come with a porcelain faced smug ass blondie when they could instead, snap her in half like a twig!” Her tone suggested she was not joking, but her stature spoke otherwise. Their attacker was taller than Andrea was, and while it wasn’t by much, it really didn’t seem like she had a lot of grunt to back up her claim. Sure, she had gusto, but her appearance was less than intimidating. However, there was something in her voice that suggested otherwise, a pitch that was lower than it should have been. It was subtle, but it was there. There was also a fair bit of reasoning that she was forgetting to do. Like how this girl wouldn’t have gone after them if she wasn’t damn good at her job. It was also entirely possible that she wasn’t human either, which meant that Andrea’s du cythraul card trick may not be as successful as she would like. However, she was far too angry to care just at the moment, so she stood braced for an attack, blood boiling and waiting for an excuse to transform. They hadn’t caught any dragons…she really wanted to kill something.

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