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Forgetful Days

What was left of the world was thrown into ruin and disrepair. It's up to the survivors to reestablish their nations or form new ones.

Forgetful Days

Postby Nayt on Wed Sep 03, 2008 7:44 pm

((This is continued from this thread.))

For a long while--several hours, in fact--Daniel was quiet, just sitting before the fire with his arms folded over his chest, and back leaned up against a large rock. So long as he was sitting against that uncomfortable hunk of stone, he wasn't going to go to sleep. He probably wasn't going to be walking right in the morning, either, and have a constant crick in his spine for days on end, but there were some sacrifices made for women that were completely justifiable in every way. This just happened to be one of them.

After many hours, he heard a rustling louder than others. When sleeping outside, it was just natural to hear movement out in the trees and bushes, but loud rustling? That meant something was nearby. Daniel instinctively held onto a coin, whilst glancing around, searching for the source of the sound. And when he found it . . .

"Wot the hell is . . ." Daniel mumbled as he squinted, "Is that a dog . . .?"

It seemed that way, too. The dog had a strange coat, though--multicolor? Well, that's how it looked in the light of his and Everett's campfire, at least. A smarter man would have immediately assumed that this dog with either a wolf or a stray infected with ten kinds of nasty. Daniel was not a smart young man. Or smart boy, rather. Maybe when he grew up, he'd gain some common sense.

. . . maybe.

Whistling quietly, Daniel tried to get the dog's attention--without waking Everett up, that is. "Here, boy!"
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Lemon on Thu Sep 04, 2008 6:24 pm

Well, they couldn't all be winners...

The canine tensed his muscles a little and made the crimson-licked coat vanish into that of a perfectly pure-bred golden retriever as he pranced over to Daniel, rolled over, and presented his belly to be scratched. It was the single most degrading thing a dog could do, let alone one as self-aware and experienced as he, but he'd done many things he thought he'd never be doing in his lifetime since meeting his last master. Master, of course, in terms of being a slave, not a pet. Never that; The Golden Messiah would rather chew his own balls off--Gods bless the world that he still had them--than be considered a pet. Perhaps that's where
Lemon won him over.

From the beginning, before hell broke loose and the forests burned and shadows became hungry,
Lemon treated him like a slave. A tool--and he grudgingly obliged. Obedience brought rewards of venison and beef; disobedience meant being cast out into the cold death of the world. Fuck that. His apostles were dead and gone and he had crawled to Zitrone on broken and bleeding paws. So now he was a well oiled, cared for tool that had only one purpose in life. Even though his master...
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Nayt on Thu Sep 04, 2008 6:51 pm

That was strange. Daniel could have sworn that the dog had a brighter coat than that. Fire did strange things like that, though. Colors were always distorted, always redder than they should have been. That was a decent way of explaining that change of color. Not that Daniel understood even that concept.

Must be seeing things.

Seeing the dog lay on its back, Daniel immediately concluded that this was a stray that somehow managed to survive. How long it had been since the dog had been a stray, one just couldn't tell. What Daniel could discern was that this dog was, in fact, male. If anything, that just made it easier for him to relate. Being a guy was tough, especially when women could be so damn hard to get sometimes (though, coincidentally, he didn't lump Everett into such a category; he thought she was "cute," but nothing more).

"Good boy . . ." Daniel whispered as he scratched the dog's chest and upper belly.

Though, there was a bit of a problem. He had no food. Everett might have had--no, wait. Impossible. She didn't even have any traveling pack or anything. Which snapped a question into Daniel's ever-changing thoughts: how in the bloody hell had she survived this long?

"Hmm . . . damn. I don't think we have any scraps," Daniel lamented quietly, "I'd give you some, if we did."
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Lemon on Tue Sep 16, 2008 10:54 am

He really did hate humans. As Daniel scratched, he played his part; he panted, thumped his leg, stretched as far as caninely possible, he even yipped once or twice, but it was all an act. And on top of that the bastards didn't even have food! It's not like he was out here with a pack, hunting every now and a again some nice, juicy deer--no! The Savior was alone for days on end. Hungry. Cold. Every bit the stray he played at being whenever he met a group of wanderers, but he'd always gotten at least a morsel, a nibble, a bite, something! Well, at least this one was stupid enough--he'd be easily led to town where the food was plentiful enough and always freely given.

But then there was the trouble of this girl. Sleeping, still! This minor commotion he was making on the ground ought to have at least stirred her a trifle, but like a rock she stubbornly refused to rouse. Ten days he'd been without any appreciable food source, he wasn't about to wait the night through, allowing her to get her beauty sleep. She'd probably been dreaming for hours on end, away on some imaginary island with an angelic king hosting a grand celebration--she could use a good thump on the head to bring her back to reality. But dogs can't carry clubs with which to thump and he figured the boy wouldn't much appreciate clubbing the brains out of his mate just so he could drag the body to town and claim his reward. Although... he could just eat her if said scenario were to even begin to play out. Kill two birds with one massive club.

The formerly fiery mutt rolled back onto his paws, positioned himself in the oh-so-classic "hey I gotta tell you somethin but I'm a fuckin dog pose" and gave one good, loud bark. After that he darted over to the girl and began waking her up in the most annoying, shocking way conceivable to a human being--something all animals are aware, capable of, and actually enjoy when the wakee gets angry enough. He clamped down on her shoe, dragged it off, and began licking the sole of her foot with his slobbery wet tongue.
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Mandaz on Wed Sep 17, 2008 3:41 pm

They couldn’t just let her sleep. Leave her be. Everyone deserved their rest, when would it be Everett’s turn? She had done a considerable amount of walking and worrying ever since she met Daniel, and the one time she was allowed rest it was broken, shattered. At fist she only furrowed her brow and grumbled, hopefully enough of a warning for the disturbers to cease their noise. Unfortunately fate, the canine, and Daniel seemed to all want to see just how bad of a mood she could be in when rudely and roughly roused from sleep.

Once the slobber made contact with the sole of her foot the girl’s orange eyes snapped open, as if her eyelids were once wrapped tightly with rubber. With a grunt she twisted onto her back and kicked her feet wildly before sliding back to wrap her arms around her knees. A disgusted whine then left her lips as the sensations all fell into place in her mind. It took her a minute but after the initial shock of being awakened she realize just what kind of beast had done it. A dog. A big dog. A possible predator. Everett jumped to her feet, grabbing her zweihander from the tree it leaned against and yanked the sheath off of it as quickly as possible. This dog was going to die.
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Nayt on Wed Sep 17, 2008 11:27 pm

"Whot is it?" Daniel asked when the dog obviously had something on his mind.

Go somewhere? Do something? Maybe he had a family or something, and they needed help. That would have certainly made sense. Hopefully, that family wasn't in a burning building. That, on the contrary, would have been terrible. Daniel couldn't necessarily take two burning buildings on like that. Well, maybe if the other burning building didn't have a freakin' ton of people in it. That would be nice. He'd be able to rush in, save everyone, and make a good impression on the all female dormitory that just happened to own this dog! It was perfect!

But only a delusion. A beautiful delusion, perhaps, but a delusion nonetheless--and one that was spoiled as soon as the dog acted almost out of playfulness rather than urgency.

"A-ah, um, I don't know if that's a good idea--she's had a hard toime--" Daniel remarked with little nervousness (mainly courtesy) as he moved towards the dog, intending to pet him and tug him away from Everett before he wound up waking the sleeping girl up.

He should have expected it, though. Everett had essentially freaked out, to the point that she even drew her sword and prepared to cut something up. A state of emergency was declared in Daniel's mind just a second later--a bit slow on the uptake--and before Everett could really do much of anything, he was up and about, jumping in front of her, between her and the dog. So few dogs were not rabies infested, that would've been a terrible waste!

"W-wait a sec'! He's just a regular dog, just troyin' to say hi!" Daniel announced loudly as he waved his arms frantically, trying to get Everett to stand down, before glancing back to the dog and asking--as if the dog could actually answer him, "Roight buddy?"
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Lemon on Thu Sep 18, 2008 12:00 pm

As if. The canine easily sidestepped the expected thrashing of the legs as would any animal so set on annoying a human from slumber, but he leaped backward with a yelp when she responded so violently to his innocent, playful ruse. Damn, she's a firecracker, maybe this'll be better than I thought. When the boy jumped between the mutt and the massive, looming sword, The Savior threw in his chips and played his cards. It was at the height of tension that humans tended to think more with their instincts than that wicked thing called logic, and that was really the only time a dog could expect any reasonable reaction from any human, halfwit and powderkeg nonwithstanding.

The mutt barked loudly three times after Daniel spoke his peace--really not to do anything productive, it just felt like the thing to do since there was so much action and people were yelling... he was a fucking dog, after all. He ran behind the fire, putting distance between himself and the travelers, barked with actual purpose this time, and tore off into the woods headed northeast. With any luck, they'd either be curious as to why he was running off, they'd want to kill him, or they'd want to catch him and apologize; the end result was all the same. He didn't head too far, if they entered the woods beyond the sphere of their fire they'd be able to see him, but he needed to wait to see if they followed. He was getting a little impatient--there were more subtle ways than this to lead wanderers to town--but he was hungry, damnit, and that little angry human had threatened his life. Best to be rid of them as soon as possible, but if they didn't follow him... well, he'd make sure they got there one way or another.
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Mandaz on Tue Oct 07, 2008 7:53 pm

A half dazed Everett heaved and seethed with anger as she gripped the hilt of her sword with white knuckled enthusiasm. From under ruffled bed head she glared up to Daniel, the fool who came between her and her kill, allowing the animal to get away. She stuck her sword in the dirt, glaring at the dog, and then to Daniel, neither image making her any less angry.

“Dog? That’s not a dog. Dogs are little fragile, fluffy, four legged things that yip and jump and are…kinda cute. Not that thing. It’s too big. It’s gotta be a bear or something. Don’t be dense, I might not know the human world as well as you do but I definitely know what a dog is.”

She sneered at Daniel, folding her arms while inspecting the hound from far off. Her lip curled in an unpleasant fashion as the thing grunted out its barks, as if asking for something in its native tongue that he expected these foreigners to the woods to understand. Everett raised her brow and looked at Daniel, knowing that he’d want to follow the thing to the ends of the earth if it barked at him enough.

“Oh no, I’m not being lead into the thick forest just so I can be eaten by a bear.”
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Nayt on Tue Oct 07, 2008 9:22 pm

"A . . . bear?" Daniel cocked his head to the side.

She couldn't be serious. A bear? She thought that the dog was a bear? It wasn't that large. Lower thigh height at best. Only a baby bear could boast that kind of shortness. No full grown bear, even while walking on all fours, could be that low to the ground. Besides, the dog's legs were too thin. He had a shaggy coat and all, but it didn't make his legs look thick. Even a baby bear had thick arms and thick legs. Also, bears didn't have tails. The dog had a tail--and much longer fur than a bear. Needless to say, Daniel was looking at her with an expression characterizing dumbfounded surprise.

"Everett, that's a dog." Daniel remarked flatly.

It was perhaps the only time when he could boast knowing more than someone else. Having Everett around might be much nicer than it seemed.

"Look at his tail, fur, and legs. He's got too skinny o'legs to be a bear, and too long o'fur, and a tail . . ." Daniel began, before realizing something: if Everett thought that the dog was a bear, while being blatantly wrong, there was a good chance that . . . "Have you ever seen a bear before?"
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Mandaz on Tue Oct 07, 2008 9:38 pm

“Have you ever seen a dog before?” she threw his question back at him just as flatly.

The girl moved her arms from their folded position to rest on her hips, staring up to Daniel with an equal amount of dumbfounded-ness.

“They’re like, forest beasts, right? Well he came from the forest, and he’s a beast, so why not a bear?”

Everett was starting to become frustrated. How could Daniel not see the logic of this? The thing was too big and scruffy to be a dog, and as far as she knew usually when things were of the same species they looked the same. She had only seen a few dogs, but it was enough to know what they looked like.

“Okay, so maybe not a bear, since the tail’s so long and the legs are a little thin. A lion then? He’s got like, this mane. Whatever, I’m still not chasing after it. Lions live in dens, and so do bears, you aren’t doing very well to convince me to not go back to sleep.”
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Nayt on Tue Oct 07, 2008 11:01 pm

"Have I ever--what?" Daniel was even more dumbfounded than before.

I'm pretty sure I used to own a dog. Don't remember, though. Actually, we met one back while looking for that city--some couple had a dog, then there were other dogs around . . . ! Hey! Of course I've seen a dog, before! I walk around everywhere all the freakin' time, how could I not have?

"Everett, that dog is troyin' to lead us somewhere. He looks way too groomed and fed and such to be a stray, so he's gotta have owners or summat, roight?"

This marked the one of the very few times in which Daniel had reasonably deduced anything with any success. Had he realized that, he might have felt either proud or somewhat disdainful of the fact--most likely a little of both. Nonetheless, his logic was actually spot on, and someone like Danyr, Presmodia, or Christoph would have been proud of them. If they were around . . . actually, they came to mind, and his thoughts were quickly pushed away. There were some things he didn't like thinking about--some memories he'd almost have rather forgotten. That wasn't too fair, though, and he knew that. It wasn't Danyr or Christoph's fault or anything . . .

"Eh, er, anyways!" Daniel, ignoring a person's need for personal space, reached forward and grabbed Everett's hand, "His owners must have food or money or somethin'--or a place insoide to sleep, so . . . uh, c'mon . . ."

Without giving her much say in the matter, Daniel turned around--still holding onto her hand or wrist, depending on if she tried to keep him from holding onto her--and started to walk after the dog. He obviously wanted them to follow, and for the prospect of food, shelter, or money that he could work for (for buying food, shelter, clothing, and the like later on), he insisted that they were going to follow.
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Mandaz on Fri Oct 17, 2008 10:29 pm

Though Daniel had made a very astute deduction, Everett wasn’t convinced. She looked at him flatly, trying to make her own deductions about his sanity. Who in their right mind would ever own and care for a bearlion? She was about to make this argument before Daniel grasped her wrist. At first she stared down at it, half expecting it to burn like acid for some reason. She really needed sleep. Then, when he began to tug, she quickly reached out to grab the hilt of her sword and shove it back into its sheath. She dragged behind him as he pulled her, but she still moved forward nonetheless. Deep into the dark heart of the woods.

“This is such a stupid idea. We’re going to get lost!” She yelled out to him.
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Lemon on Fri Oct 17, 2008 11:25 pm

He could hear them arguing. The kid had balls, but the mutt figured if push came to shove that woman could take him, the kid, and half the population of the Crawling Garden and pulverize them all into a mess the width and breadth of Lemon's ego. She wasn't really that far off, either; one of the cities had armored bears as guards, though he seriously doubted the intelligence of said bears and knew for a fact that they'd all been raised by humans--a fact that made them pussycats in a den of lions compared to the rest of the bear world. As far as mountain lions went... early on in the mutt's servitude to Lemon, he heard rumors around town about a lion propelled carriage being created, but he'd never seen any fruit born from that particularly interesting tree.

She was wrong though, and had nothing to worry about. He stayed only just within sight of them, making sure they couldn't get lost, and took them through the woods for a good twenty minutes. Right to the road. They'd been traveling basically parallel to it since they entered, or so he assumed if they'd traveled in a straight line from the last town, but the greater majority of people who traveled the road, through the woods, or just in this general direction were wanderers or fugitives--and he, of course, hadn't stopped to ask the duo. Number one rule of being a dog if you expect to be fed by humans: be cute. Number two rule: be useful. The first hadn't worked on the girl, but perhaps taking them to the road would make her a little warmer on the subject. Just for added measure, he stood next to the very convenient, obvious sign which would be lit up just enough for them to see by a tiny oil candle erected into the advertisement.


"INN OF 11 SAINTS: 1 MILE"
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Nayt on Sat Oct 18, 2008 2:07 am

There eventually came a point when Daniel let go of Everett's wrist. She was following him well enough, and towards the point where they got to the road, he pretty much just expected that she was going to follow him. Once they had started, what was the point of stopping? Of course, Daniel was all about the concept of holding a girl's hand, but he wasn't technically holding her hand--in fact, he was holding her wrist--and it wasn't at all fulfilling. Holding her hand would have been something along the lines of lacing his fingers between hers and walking in a somewhat lethargic, albeit romantic pace--not him dragging her along.

Once they were on the road and approaching the sign--and the dog they were following--Daniel came to a stop. Something seemed off about this sign. An extra number should have been added, and it was bothering him. A full digit just felt like it was missing. To read it in the dark of night correctly, they had to be up close, and it just bothered him even more.

Daniel, stroking his chin for a brief moment, muttered to himself, ". . . It's gotta be eleven."

It was a strange observation, possibly the complete result of sleeplessness, but Daniel was at least being observant. It just made sense, though. If one asks how many saints it takes--well, the answer is eleven. It said it right there on the sign. Eleven saints. And signs didn't lie.

Of course, if this place wasn't going to pay him to either save some reckless hobos or lug heavy stuff around (in a particularly manly fashion), then going there might wind up pointless. They were to have to make money if they were going to actually buy a room somewhere.
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Mandaz on Tue Oct 21, 2008 12:21 am

Everett’s displeased face had yet to leave her during their entire journey. Once Daniel had released her wrist she quickly tucked it under her folded arms and brooded the whole while walking. Her mussed up blonde locks twisted and tangled in the wind, and her face was scrunched in its unhappy scowl, remaining stuck to her face even as they came across the sign.

“What are you rambling on about?”

She huffed, taking a look at the sign for himself If Daniel had his way they’d be following that beast into oblivion. One mile didn’t seem that long, but she couldn’t help but notice that this was the only marker of any sort of civilization they had seen. No town sign or tuft of smoke hovering through the air. Just this solitary poster for a sort of religious inn.

“I don’t know about this. We’re pretty deep in the woods, why would there be a random inn? Maybe the lion’s leading us into a trap.”
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