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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.

Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Lemon on Fri Oct 24, 2008 8:22 pm

There was a single angry vein that attached itself to the very first mammal and persisted throughout evolution, always settling down in the forehead of those particularly susceptible to anger, stress, and impatience. The canine's personal vein pumped so furiously it threatened to split the frontal bone in two. Why did humans have to be so difficult? So ornery! Normally he'd wait them out, let curiosity get the better of them, but he was too tired and too hungry to put up with it.

Fine, fuck you guys.

He shook his fur back to its normally abnormal state with shimmering tendrils of metallic red and headed down the road, muttering aloud to himself. He couldn't speak, of course, but they'd hear every word. Flit, the pet-name given to him by
Lemon, had been transformed by extensive abuse and training. He was a four legged pyrokinetic. His master also had the foresight to mutate his brain enough so he could broadcast his thoughts, but it was limited to only those very close to him. The training had, if it were possible, also given him an even greater sense of self importance, which could partially explain his disdain for the woman who was so convinced he was what he bore no resemblance to.

Fuck this job. Fuck George. He can go find his own damn people to play savior to. I tried, I at least deserve some damn jerky. Fuckin weird ass smellin' bitch. I could be eating steak by now! Steak!! Shit! One damn mile, that's all I needed. The inn, the town, but no. No cause I'm a lion. Yeah, I mean THAT makes sense! A fucking cat can totally do this--

Fire enveloped Flit and lit up the night. A pyre several feet tall stretched upward and winked out before it could set the whole forest on fire. He continued ranting, heading toward the inn and town, but eventually he'd be out of hearing distance from the two and out of their lives all together.
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Nayt on Sat Oct 25, 2008 11:58 am

And for a brief moment, Daniel hallucinated. He thought he did, at least. Nothing could be that awesome. He had traveled worlds--multiple. worlds. for God's sake.--and the image of a dog, whose thoughts he could listen in on, angrily walking down the road with a fantastic color to his coat and flames spreading around him . . . goddamn, that was just cool as hell. It was the only thing he could think about it, too. The notion of that being awkward, unnatural, or completely insane was ignored entirely.

The thoughts of the animal, which he had also assumed to be part of a brief hallucination (or fantasy?) of what would be the most badass thing to happen at this moment (which, in actuality, wasn't an uncommon mental inquiry for Daniel) were quite literally an afterthought. And when he did recall and acknowledge them . . .

"Told you 'e wasn't a loion or bear," Daniel remarked flatly.

All canine badassery aside, the very fact that Daniel could reasonably claim--even if it were a false claim--that he had hallucinated was enough to suggest to him that traveling to this Inn of Eleven Saints was a fantastic idea. They both needed a good bit of sleep.

Not to dwell on the awesome of that dog, or Daniel's hallucination of that dog's awesome, he glanced to Everett again, asking, "Er, um, anyways, should we be headin' down the road? We'd be much better off with an actual room with beds to sleep in and all."
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Mandaz on Mon Oct 27, 2008 9:59 pm

The girl stumbled back as the dog made its bright display. She shielded her eyes, but could not hide from its booming thoughts that rang through her ears and seemed to last forever. Her mind rumbled with his angered words, making sure she’d never forget. She had obviously caused him some anger, but then again so had he. Seemed the two were doomed to not get along, at least for the time. When the dog ran off, Everett shook out her head, feeling as if it had been assaulted by a hive of hornets.

“I did not just see that…I-I did not just hear that...!” Everett was stunned to say the least, tugging on her wild locks, trying to rip the thoughts and sights from her head. This was all too much to handle so quickly. “And you want to follow that thing? It’s obviously not a normal sort of…animal...of any kind! It’ll kill us! Did you see that!?”

The girl was a little frazzled; it would take some convincing to get her to move any closer to that animal. She wasn’t really good with beasts of any sorts, and now that one had it out for her. She crossed her arms and stamped her foot in the ground, masking her fear and confusion with toughness.

“I’d rather take my chances out here in the cold, hard dirt than get burned to a crisp by some mutant dog! You go get mauled if you want, I’ll catch up with you by morning”
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Nayt on Tue Oct 28, 2008 9:46 am

Crap, she actually made sense.

He felt compelled to go there, but didn't quite understand why. Everett, on the other hand, did not, and her reason made quite a bit of sense. One would have to be dumber than Daniel to go off in that direction, and the youth acknowledged that much. It really was a risk, all things considered. Yet, he still felt drawn there. He wasn't going to ditch Everett, though--so if she could reason him out of it, then he was going to wind up staying out there.

"Well, er, wot if somethin' happens?" Daniel asked fruitlessly. "Loike--wot if a foire is started or somethin'? Who's gonna save the day if we aren't there?"

His reasoning was a bit off this time, but at least he wasn't calling a dog some sort of bear-lion. Nonetheless, it was really just an excuse. Daniel was confident now in his ability to resist a fire, even if it caused him hospitalization, but he could still do a little bit of good during such a catastrophe.

But still, an excuse was an excuse. Truth be told, it was springtime, he was shirtless, and even by the warmth of a fire, he was cold. If he could maybe work a bit at the inn or something to pay off sleeping there for a night or two, that would be grand . . .
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Mandaz on Tue Oct 28, 2008 10:51 pm

It was much too late to get into any sort of argument, although that’s all they seemed to be doing since Everett woke up. Still, Daniel seemed really interested in following the dog’s footsteps and heading towards the inn. She yawned, her adrenaline wearing off; sleep in a bed might not have been such a bad idea.

“Well. I mean if you’re really excited to walk through fire again. Then I guess there’s no helping it.”

The girl sneered, almost making fun of Daniel at this point. She wondered if the acciended had somehow turned him on to this new fetish for danger. At least a fetish for being burned. She’d have to make a mental note never to light any candles around him, lest he hurt himself.

“Alright, hero! Let’s go stop a flame throwing monster!”

Her enthusiasm returned when the prospect of cutting up the beast that had disturbed her sleep came to mind. Vengeance was often sweet and always satisfying; Everett cracked her knuckles and grinned madly at the idea. She’s start off on the path to Saints, following the burning bits of grass the monster has singed in its rage.
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Nayt on Wed Oct 29, 2008 1:17 am

"Y-yeah . . .!" Daniel cheered lazily. "Let's . . ."

. . . not and say we did.

Fending off a fire or braving through a pyrokinetic dog wasn't actually on Daniel's agenda. Sure, he fully planned to help out if people were in trouble, but really? He just wanted to sleep. That was all. Sleep in a nice, warm bed, with covers and a fireplace, or insulated rooms to keep the warmth it, or a girl in bed with him that could snuggle up to him, all warm and soft and dressed for bed . . .

The latter was reaching a bit, but hey! It was the thought that counted! And if they could only get a single room, they might wind up sharing that little mental (delusion) fantasy, or he'd wind up sleeping on the floor. That was the most likely scenario. Two beds would have been great. The more he thought about it, the better it seemed to just exclude that part of snuggling for warmth. Not that Daniel was actually going to remember this conclusion by the time they got there--in fact, he was probably going to suggest it at least once.

"Only a moile. Can't be too long, roight? We'll be snoozing in no toime." Daniel asked in the worst possible way, practically tempting fate in a what's the worst that could happen? way.
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Lemon on Thu Oct 30, 2008 2:36 pm

Flit had quelled his quiet ramblings after he'd reached about the halfway point; he was wholeheartedly looking forward to a warm bed next to the bar's hearth, and he knew that--with a big eyed, floppy-tailed beg--he'd get rabbit jerky from one of the barmaids or maybe even George himself. His quaint fantasy was shattered, however, when he caught a whiff on the wind. They were following him. He'd just spent the last goddamn hour trying to lure them the old fashioned way, but apparently there were so few brain cells between them that the fucking bandwagon had to be engulfed in flames before they'd hop on it.

But then Flit started supposing, which is usually a dangerous thing for any being to do to any length. Suspicious of the normal, funny smelling and funny acting, completely ready to charge into danger and the unknown... these fuckers were heroes! At least, they were acting like ones--maybe they really were just mentally retarded. It was a fine line. Not that it mattered, he'd get paid for bringing them in either way... but he might know a guy who knows a guy who knows a bitch who's in charge of shit that might want them. Shit. Well, ok. He had to walk into the inn with them and tell George he was the one who led them anyway, it might be a good idea to stop and see just what the fuck was going on.

By the time he came out of his musings, he was within sight of the inn. George was fairly proud of it,
Lemon had stayed there several times before Zitrone was destroyed, and he made sure it was the most inviting thing between here and oblivion. Bright torches made the red lacquered doors and polished window panes glisten in the night, and you could see and smell the smoke pluming out of the tall chimney on the third floor. The bottom floor was all cobblestone and grout on top of the wood frame beneath and the top floor--although he had wanted at several points to paint it a brilliant, offensive yellow--maintained a fresh, varnished red. It was likely the oldest standing structure in this part of Citron, but it looked as if it'd been constructed this year. Just a mile beyond the inn, the lights of the nearest town could also be seen, but there was a good reason the Inn of 11 Saints was stationed beyond those walls. Flit turned, putting the inn behind him, and waited for the adventurers to come.
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Nayt on Thu Oct 30, 2008 11:22 pm

After a bit of walking, it began to occur to Daniel that following this dog may not have been the best of ideas. Originally, he thought the devil-dog was just going to walk off or something, but after awhile, he had stopped. Right in front of the inn, sitting there, staring at them, waiting. There was a common sense node in the back of his brain, dormant for so long, threatening to wake up and command him to throw Everett over his shoulder and run the other way. That was a tempting idea, but there were no other inns! He'd have no bed to carry her to--wait, that was a completely different subject matter.

Daniel's mind usually wasn't as mixed up as it was currently. It was pretty mixed up, pretty bad, but not this mixed up. He even felt a little dizzy--tired, even. Laying down would be nice. If all went well, and he was provided a bed for promised work, he'd be asleep as soon as his body hit the mattress. A pillow was not necessary.

"oI guess we go in, then," the boy remarked awkward with a shrug of his shoulders.

Of course, he made it a point to have some distance between the dog and himself, but he still took a step inside, nonetheless. Town? Screw town. A nice, comfortable, cozy bed? That was more like it. That was his goal at the moment, and he was going to shoot for it with vigor. That didn't mean being a gentleman took a back seat, though! He held the door open for Everett, of course. A invaluable tactic that he'd not even thought of employing--it just came natural, right?
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Mandaz on Fri Oct 31, 2008 1:27 am

Everett kept a hand on the hilt of her sword once the building came into view. For once the building was in her site, so was the animal. She held her chest out and chin up, confident, ready, alert-…not very. Still, she had to remain awake, diligent, not let a bit of weakness show.

“Alright you…dog. Big mutant fire breathing dog! You’d better not try any funny stuff!”

Being so close to the thing now, and really getting a good look at it, she was amazed with how big it was. Especially compared to the dogs she was familiar with. It was almost…intimidating- no, VERY intimidating! The girl started to swallow her threats, which went down hard with a big gulp.

“I’m warning you! Uhh..D-Daniel here!” She said as she tugged on the boy’s arm. “He’s a fierce warrior! Skilled in beast slaying and fire walking both! So ha! We’re immune to your tricks!”

With a confident, if not uneasy grin, the girl stared at the beast for a moment, before she realized that Daniel had opened the door before she ruthlessly tugged him aside. Seeing an opportunity, she pushed Daniel through the open door, and then barreled in herself. Being inside a warm building made her feel safer from the wilderness and fiery beasts outside, not stopping to think that she had left toe door open.
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Lemon on Fri Oct 31, 2008 10:17 pm

A beautiful pair of breasts bounced between the kitchen and the dining hall, carrying foaming flagons and crisp, bubbling glasses of champagne--until she was so brutally interrupted and stuck down by a certain young man flung through a door. The ale erupted all over the server's very tastefully showy affair of lace and silk, soaking her to the bone and causing another fashion of eruption from the young woman's usually perfectly spherical bosom. The patrons--veterans all, drinking the night into the morning and celebrating every minute of it--at the bar and the tables, beyond the calamity, hollered their praise of the young man's brazen display of appreciation for the female form wrapped in moisture, while the barmaid herself merely blushed a fierce crimson and smiled at the the adoring customers.

A slender form, roused by the commotion, rounded the corner dressed from head to toe in an ensemble of purple, black, and gold. His metal toed and heeled shoes clicked on the wood floors as he walked, the sound a common and comforting familiarity to the regulars sipping away at the alcohol in their glasses. New faces weren't uncommon, but such dramatic arrivals were usually quarantined to the man descending upon the scene with a gleaming smile and a popping chuckle. George bent his looming visage to assist the woman in re-establishing her normally erect form by proffering his open hand.

"Noble though your intent may have been, young sir, I believe Miss Jenn is quite aware of the effect of gravity on the human frame, but I do believe you've given the gawking parrots suckling from the teat of my bar yet another night's worth of cud to chew over. I'll never be rid of them at this rate!" He jested to the young man while helping his employee to her feet.
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Nayt on Sat Nov 01, 2008 12:57 am

"O-oi, Everett, wouldn't it just be best to--" walk by very slowly and pretend like it isn't there? Daniel had whispered, though, so when Everett acted whilst he was in mid-sentence, he found himself stumbling, throttled ahead, unable to stop himself on a pair of bum, burnt, still healing legs.

He hit something. Something solid, but light. It didn't cause any pain--no more than he was already feeling, anyways. In truth, his legs, considering all the topical burns scattered on him, were hurting like crazy. His bandages probably needed changed again, too, even on his chest and arms, due to all this physical exertion--walking a fair distance, rushing a bit, and stumbling. Some ointment would've been nice. Why didn't they get any of that from the hospital? Or extra bandages? Or maybe they had. Daniel couldn't remember for sure. Damnit to hell.

No matter how disappointed he was with himself for not remembering specific details from just earlier today, stumbling like he had, and having to catch himself on a stool lest he painfully attack the ground with his rear end, it was all disregarded in the end. The end being the moment that he was able to stand up straight once again and examine his surroundings. One surrounding--one piece of environment, flesh puffed against one another and lifted so boisterously--and wet. Deliciously wet. The body was on the floor, and promptly helped up by a patron--an owner--an employer--hell, it didn't matter. Daniel's eyes were not on him, and his ears had turned off completely.

Hello, my name is Daniel Kerington. I am here to save you from a Hellhound. Miss, would you please come with me, so I may show you a flame retardant safe haven?

Thank God no one could read his mind.

"S-sorry! oI'm terribly sorry!" Daniel exclaimed as he waved his hands frantically before him, trying to look innocent. Trying. His eyes still had a central location of focus, though. "oI didn't mean'ta rush in loike that!"
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Mandaz on Sun Nov 02, 2008 8:56 pm

“Daniel!”

The girl shrieked, realizing how she had completely just bombarded into this place via his body. But no one had to know that, she was pretty sure only the dog had seen her doing so. She decided to save her face by passing the blame onto Daniel. He WAS responsible for knocking the bodacious waitress off balance, after all.

“Forgive him. He’s not right, suffered a really bad injury not too long ago, still very weak on his legs.”

For once she wasn’t lying to gain sympathy, but that would most likely come later, and at Daniel’s expense.

“We’ve been traveling an awful long way” she whimpered, attempting her best orphaned child look. “We got lost in the woods and started running from this massive bea-I mean dog! And when we saw your light, well I guess he just got too excited and burst right in! We didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Nayt on Mon Nov 03, 2008 7:20 am

Lemon: “Not at all, not at all. By all means no need to apologize so profusely when you’ve already been forgiven, my young guests.” He set the girl off toward the kitchens to renew the tray of beverages that had been destroyed in the collision. “As for the beast, miss, he’s actually a comrade of mine, but I understand that at so late an hour he may seem a bit monstrous. I’ll have him wait outside until you’re both situated and then perhaps you can start things off on a better foot in the morning, hmm? You’re quite tired, of course, and there will be plenty of time for talk after the sun has risen. I’m afraid the bedrooms which aren’t under renovation are all taken save for the wedding suite, which shouldn’t be a problem for such an adorable couple as yourself! The room is already warm with a fire and the downy mattress is the perfect thing for weary souls. I hope it will prove suitable?”

Nayto: Daniel's eye candy swiftly made her way back to the kitchen to get a new group of drinks to replace that which he spoiled. Well, that was unfortunate . . . he'd have to find some way to talk to that woman sometime, maybe get a name for the face. That would be a good idea. How to do that, though . . . that was the biggest problem. Daniel was certainly the worst schemer on the face of the earth--any attempts at this woman was bound to fail, but it was still a thought. Still something he might try if he had free time. Of course, that entire train of thought was interrupted when a "wedding suite" was mentioned. Oh God, the decisions! Daniel whipped around, facing the man, before glancing over to Everett. Should he have been apalled by the notion that they were a couple?

Should he have said All right, we'll take it! in an overly enthusiastic, fully intending a mack-honeymoon type of way, or should he have just left it up to Everett? Leave it to the woman--the least manly thing to do. Or should he have done the smart thing and ask how much? And if he could work to pay it off? Sadly, the latter was likely to never happen for him. Instead of responding at all, he looked at the floor, with Everett clear in his peripheral vision. React based on her reaction--fantastic idea.

Mandaz: Everett’s expression perked immensely when news of the comfortable bed was given to her. It was a mixed sort of emotion though. Like someone had made her a delicious ice cream sundae and added pickles instead of bananas. A good intention, but sharing a bed with Daniel wasn’t her idea of a peaceful night. He probably talked in his sleep or snored, or walked about. But the bed that was described sounded absolutely heavenly, something that just might have been worth the pain of figuring out arrangements with her counterpart. If all else failed, she could force Daniel to the floor if need be.

“But sir.” She interjected ever-so-politely. “We have no money to spare for such a grand room. And my…and Daniel here isn’t in any condition to work for it. How would we be able to get any sort of room, let alone a suite?”

She conveniently left out the fact that she was an able bodied worker, and never elaborated on what sort of relationship the two had. She didn’t want to give away too much. Though this caretaker seemed friendly enough, he was in league with that horrible hound, making her automatically suspicious of him.

Lemon: “Again, I’ll not hear another word until you two are comfortably in the throes of sleep. I must insist that you head on up to bed this minute. Third floor, last room on the left.”

The duo would find George’s words irresistibly compelling. The room in question was decadently furnished, with a suffocating amount of heart-shaped decorations adorning almost every surface. The downy, full sized, four post bed was supplemented by a lambs-wool comforter and excessively plump feather pillows. A single person could dive into this paragon of fluffy excess and never be seen from or heard from again, but for two people it provided the most romantic of playgrounds. The bathroom was private to the weeding suite but furnished only with the necessities. There was a roaring fire in the fireplace which lit the room and warmed it beautifully, but only in such a way that made things seem more intimate.

Nayto: I can't work? Daniel thought to himself.

Well, that was certainly insulting! He could totally work like this. His legs were bad, but if he was just washing dishes or something, that'd be fine. Serving customers . . . well, thay might be problematic with his condition, but every self respecting dining establishment needed someone to wash dishes for them. And that was Daniel! In fact, way back when, he and a good friend of his needed money badly enough that they worked a solid week--sixty total hours, each--of doing general diner work. Dishes, serving, seating, and the like. "O-oh--um, er, o-okay . . ." Daniel whispered as he felt rushed to go to the room. This was strange; they had no method of payment, and he was so insistant that they stay. Something was fishy about this, but Daniel was too much in need of a comfortable place to sit and/or lay down to care. After the excrutiating journey up the stairs and into the room, he found what looked to be some sort of perfect love room. A love making room, that is. He had to wonder what being up here with that barmaid would be like.

"S-so, uh, um . . . Everett?" Daniel asked as he focused on her, instead of the rest of the room--trying to gauge her reaction, of course. He certainly hoped he wasn't going to be sleeping on the floor tonight. Or, in the best case scenario, she might need someone to get warm with.

Hmmm . . .

Mandaz: The décor of the room was utterly deplorable. Everett’s upper lip rose as she took in every single sickening heart. Whoever was the designer must have had a lust for the cliché…and the tacky. Still, the bed was the most beautiful thing she had seen in ages. When Daniel would turn to gauge her reaction, he’d find her not standing next to him anymore, but face first in downy delight. The bed was a dream, a wonderful mix of delightful sensations. Softness, warmth, silkiness, it all made her want to sleep forever. She let out a large sigh of relief, relaxing into the perfect bed. All of her problems seemed to just melt away. The tackiness of the room, the danger of the beast outside, her frustration with her traveling companion, all that mattered was this bed. Daniel would see Everett in a new light. For once her face held a look of complete and utter serenity, with no scowl. It was almost frightening in itself.

Nayto: When Daniel found Everett not at his side, he glanced ahead, towards the bed--and was utterly surprised! Such a nice bed. Maybe they should have gotten baths first. That would've probably been best--Daniel hadn't bathed in quite awhile, nor had Everett. Days . . . weeks? Weeks for Everett, maybe. Who knew how long it had been since she had bathed. In the end, though, that just didn't matter. Maybe they could bathe individually in the morning or something. Well, that wasn't the most surprising thing. Moreso was the fact that Everett seemed at total peace. He couldn't disagree with that being a fantastic thing. It'd make her easier to get along with, at least--less frustrating and the sort. This also made her seem more-- "

Cute," Daniel whispered to himself.

--than before. Just like any girl a few years shy of his age, serene, happy, attractive--what wasn't there to appreciate? Daniel's remark had been under his breath and barely audible, fortunately. He limped towards the bed and lay upon his back . . . awkwardly. Well--what next? Daniel folded his arms behind his head and thought about it for a moment.

"So . . . you're not going to sleep with your sword there, are you?" Daniel asked.

When it all came down to it, and he actually was close to a girl, coming up with something to say was utterly impossible . . .

Mandaz: “Mhmm, Zweihander likes comfort as much as anybody else.”

She yawned, pulling the sheathed sword from its place at her back to hold it in her arms, hugging it like a pillow or a person. It clinked and rattled as she snuggled the worn leather, holding the dull metal beneath. The girl was capable of being affectionate, just to things she really liked. Everett hadn’t thought about bathing, or even changing out of her dirty clothes. Her top priority was sleep, and then completing her quest, and then maybe a bath. It wasn’t the most important thing on her list at the moment, and so it didn’t cross her mind. This was her philosophy even before she met Daniel. In fact, she may have looked like a completely different person underneath the layers of dirt. There was no arguing with her about it now though, for as soon as her sword was nestled against her body she was fast asleep, back turned to Daniel. It didn’t matter to her where he slept now, she was far too content and drifting of into her most lucid of dreams.

Nayto: "Y-you can't be serious . . ." Daniel sighed as he palmed his forehead.

Even he didn't treat his weapons with that amount of love and care--and they were much, much more than weapons to him. Reminders, memories, fragments of lost days--but that was a different story. Sure, they were stashed in warm places--but those were his pockets. Daniel glanced over just a moment later, only to find Everett asleep, cuddling her sheathed sword. That couldn't possibly be comfortable.

Also, it made him kind of jealous of the sword. Being in the sword's position might have been interesting; Daniel would not have minded affection like that from a girl! Dejected, he released a sigh and turned to lay on his side, his back facing Everett. He was too tired to care too much. More could be done in the morning--like suggesting the possibility of baths. Yes. Yes, that would have to do. Daniel was asleep in no time at all--it took him only a moment of shutting his eyes whilst laying upon a comfortable surface, and he was sound asleep.

Mandaz: While Everett may have had some sort of love affair with her weapon, it wasn’t anything serious. The sword just happened to be her only friend through her travels. The only one to talk to. The only thing that helped her on her journey. So much so that she had picked up strange habits like finding comfort in its rotten sheath, or pretending that it whispered her to sleep with its metal song. Creepy as it may have been, Everett wouldn’t dare part with her sword. She even had dreams about it. About it guiding her, consoling her, even taking her home. It was only a relationship she had in dreams though, during the day she never let on just how much she cared for her weapon. Daniel would wake up in a strange position.

During the night, Everett’s dream had turned violent. Violent in such a way that zweihander was dropped off the side of the bed. Desperate for her soothing security, she wrapped her arms around where she thought her sword to be. However, Daniel’s torso was not a sword, and could not contain one for any extended period of time. Still, his warm clothes and bandages felt like the tattered sheath, so she clung. And remained that way until morning, peacefully dreaming of achieving her goals with the one thing that was most important to her.

Nayto: Once upon a time, Daniel was a very troubled sleeper. He tossed, turned, punched, kicked, and threw things all about during the night. Those nights all lead to him waking up in the morning without covers, cold, partially clothed, and sprawled out in such a way that, were he laying vertical when he went to sleep, he was horizontal when he woke up. Ever since he stopped sleeping in beds, that ceased to happen. It didn't take much more than a month to break that habit, and though he may very well go right back into it again if he were sleeping in beds regularly, he slept as stationary and calm as he did when he slept outside on a dirt road or around rocks. Never moving, never stirring--just sleeping.

The youth reached his arms up and stretched his legs out as he finally began to awaken, only to feel pain scatter throughout his body as he experienced the pain of stretching out his burnt skin. If anything, that woke him up faster than a good punch to the face ever would have--and he could reasonably juxtapose those, too! He put down his arms with a grumble, only to find his forearms not folded over his stomach, but propped up by a body, one laying on top of him, arms around him, head on his chest--Everett?

Dream or nightmare-- well, I'm still male, not a nightmare. Definitely a dream. He concluded.

But how could be it be a dream? The touch felt so real! Daniel, shirtless, had nothing more than bandages on his chest and arms. He felt the soft touch of her cheek upon his skin, and the way her hair seemed to tickle his chest if he moved even a little. He could feel it all. And then, his heart started to pound hard in his chest.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Legs crossed? Okay, good.

Nonetheless, he felt it necessary to reciprocate by wrapping his arms around Everett, as well. Such was awkward, though, as he had no freakin' clue where to place his arms. Around her upper back? Both wouldn't do there! Her shoulders? No, no--definitely too high. Her lower back? Well, that sounded right. He could slide one under her body and around her lower back--the small of her back, specifically, and the other around the middle of her back. Perfect!

Th-this is . . . too . . . . . this is way too comfortable . . .

Mandaz: Through her drowsy daze, Everett felt a new, strange feeling, though not unwelcome. Her sword, or at least what she thought was her sword, returning the embrace she had given it. Gently holding her as she had held it all those night prior. Holding her with arms of a man, not of cold steel. “

mmh…zweihander..?” she mumbled, rousing from her deep and comfortable sleep.

Dream curiosity told her to look to who was holding her. Dream logic told her it was the very thing she cared for the most, given flesh instead of cutting though it. Dream emotion stained her cheeks with blush while blurry vision gave way to reality. And reality was a harsh mistress. She stared up at Daniel, who was obviously not her faithful metal companion, but more of the semi-reliable unintelligent one. Her face quickly contorted into a look of confusion, fear, and disgust once a million thoughts and conclusions pushed the pleasant dream fantasies out of her mind of good.

“You rat!” She shrieked, pushing herself out of his arms and over to the edge of the bed, nearly falling off completely. But, with cat-like reflexes (and style) she clawed and clung to the mattress, keeping her just inches from hitting the ground where her sword awaited. “I can’t believe you’d try to take advantage of me like that! And I thought I could trust you! Ugh!”

Nayto: For only a brief moment, the two of them made eye contact, and in the morning, Daniel hadn't the reflexes to realize that something was wrong when it was staring him right in the face. He was surprised as hell when she shouted at him and broke away.

Damn! Wasn't a dream!

Feeling dejected once again, Daniel retorted: "Wot--? Wot?! Take advantage of . . . oi! You were the one holdin' onto me, first! oI was just . . . y'know! oI was just keepin' you warm! And it looked loike you were cuddling me for warmth and all, so-- so--!"

It was the wittiest retort he'd ever made! A perfect white lie! He wasn't trying to keep her warm, he was trying to keep himself warm on the inside. There was nothing wrong with that--just a little white lie, one she'd never have to know of. She had cuddled him first, though. There was no doubt about that! Daniel folded his arms over his chest, shut his eyes, and moved to sit at the side of the bed.

"Cruifoy someone for being noice, whoy don't you. Jeez." It hurt a bit, but he stood up and started towards the bathroom, saying nothing more. He forgot what idea he had in mind last night, knowing only that it wasn't going to work at all now. Whatever it was.
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Nayt
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Nayt on Tue Nov 04, 2008 12:11 pm

Mandaz: Everett hoisted herself back onto the bed, only to hear Daniel’s story and look at him in disbelief. She had no words; instead she grabbed the nearest pillow and flung it at his face. And then another. In fact she’d continue to throw soft, plush objects at him until there were no more in her reach. She should have known sleeping in a place like this was a bad idea, but last night she was much too comfortable to care.

“Next time I’ll sleep on the floor. I don’t want to get your germs crawling all over me again.” she huffed childishly, folding her arms and looking away.

Nayto: Daniel was on his way to the bathroom when he was suddenly struck by a pillow, apparently used as a lethal weapon in some cultures. Everett didn't really have a strong arm, so it wasn't like she was going to knock him over, but if it occurred to him that he could lay on the guilt better if he pretended to fall over, he would've. He was poor on his feet at the moment, after all! One couldn't just start launching things at him--some consideration for his health had to be taken into mind! Oh well. Daniel felt, instead, the urge to throw them all back at her, but refrained. He actually had a good arm, even when he was injured like this. That might've stung for her. Rather than act, he sighed, and moved into the bathroom. Regardless of what she did, he had full intentions on getting a bath, and maybe coercing her to do the same. That'd make life much more bearable on the road. He wasn't the cleanliest man in the world at all, but even Daniel had his limits.

"Oi, Everett, I'm going to start up a bath, if you want to take one," Daniel called out from the bathroom, "Otherwoise, oI'm just going to take one moyself." But you might need one better than I do.

Mandaz: “That jerk.” She mumbled, sliding off of the bed to stretch.

She picked up her sword and hung the sheath at her backside again. The girl breathed a small sigh of relief; her sword was in its place, all was right with the world for now. Everett looked herself over, not really noticing any difference in her appearance, or any reason to take a bath. It had been such a long journey, she didn’t pay any attention to how filthy she was becoming, only that little by little her skin seemed much darker than it should have been. The thought didn’t cross her mind though, as she was far more interested in spiting Daniel than she was in keeping her own appearance.

“No, you’d probably clog up the drain.” She huffed, running her fingers through her hair to work out the tangles; and this was the only bit of maintenance she preformed on herself. Instead she poked around the room, waiting for him before she went back downstairs. Maybe something in this room could give her some clue as to the nature of this strange place.

Nayto: "Good think you're sleeping on the floor next toime, then. Wouldn't be roight for you to stink up another noice bed." Daniel grumbled, purposefully loud enough for her to here.

Tit for tat--his spite as a response to her spite. It worked fine enough, too. Wasn't necessarily truthful, though. Everett didn't smell all that bad at all. Maybe he was just used to the scent of an unwashed person; not many people bathed regularly during this day and age. Bathing once a week was something of a luxury, usually fit for kings and queens, not common folk like them. Not that Daniel subscribed to that belief, but still--that made it commonplace for someone to smell as bad as Everett probably did, so he didn't notice.

Nonetheless, he shut the door behind him, prepared a bath, and undressed. For a good while, Daniel was in the bathroom, indisposed. The bathtub was definitely large enough for two, and probably on purpose, given the fact that the room itself seemed as gawdy as the bedroom. Still, it was nice to soak in warm water every once and awhile. He usually forgot to do this, and it was a wonder that he remembered today. He did forget to try and lure Everett in with him, but that was all right--it would've have worked, anyways.

When Daniel opened the bathroom door again, a half an hour later, he was all but dry, wearing nothing more than the scrubs (for pants) he had on yesterday. He was going to need to get a shirt sometime, eventually--especially with how he looked. Without his bandages on, he looked much worse than before. He was clean and all, but his burns were showing. Places like the center of his chest and left shoulder were terrible--pink with splotches of red all over. It was worse on some of his fingers, though--as with the right side of his chest, and left forearm. There, his skin pigment was much lighter, with darker spots resembling an unhealthy tan, and the whole of the wounds appearing to have a leather-like texture. On his face--one cheek, on his brow, and some on his neck, he just had lighter complected skin--newer skin--with dots of pink denoting scar tissue, presumably permanent. He didn't seem to notice too much, though. It wasn't like he didn't have other scars on him. Daniel was still drying his hair as he stepped out.

"oI think oI'm going to need some new bandages," her muttered, but shrugged it off.

If he got some from George or someone else, fine. If not, it wasn't too big of a deal. They were past the point of easy infections; bandages were only going to make him easier to look at until his wounds healed and all he had were burn scars. Nonetheless, he was ready once he was out of the bathroom, all things taken care of.

Mandaz: Daniel had taken an awful long time in the bathroom. He must have been exceptionally dirty; at least that’s what Everett thought. Still, her short attention span had her buzzing all about the room while she was alone, looking through drawers and dressers. She found some strange, nearly flat wrapping in one of the drawers, about a dozen small, purple, inch by inch squares. Probably napkins or something the maids had to use. In another drawer she found a thick, black book with some strange stories inside of it, but reading didn’t really interest her at the moment.

In the dresser it looked as if the last people who inhabited the room had left strips of their clothing behind. It was strange, why leave just a few bits of lace? They looked like they could have been worn once, but there was not enough fabric to cover anything. Maybe they were in such a hurry to leave that they accidentally ripped their clothes? Or maybe the beast had mauled them, leaving only scraps of frilly bits. But then what was the use of putting them back in the dresser? This whole place was pretty confusing.

On the edge of one wall was a tall mirror, which the girl spent some time inspecting herself in. Was she really so short? Maybe it was a trick of the light. Her hair was looking a little scruffy, but she didn’t mind, warriors didn’t care about those kinds of things. Was she gaining weight? Of course not! She hadn’t even eaten anything for a while! Everett poked at her stomach a bit, wondering all these questions to herself right as Daniel emerged from the bathroom. She got another good look at those scars of his, and she felt a pang of sadness and regret again.

“I hope…you heal completely” she muttered, so low than Daniel wouldn’t have been able to pick out words, just guttural sounds. There were good intentions though; Everett would have felt extremely guilty had Daniel received any permanent scarring from their ordeal.

“There are some scraps of cloth in the dresser, you could wrap those around the smaller wounds!” she suggested. “Maybe there’s a shop around somewhere, we can try to buy you new bandages.”

Nayto: Those thirty minutes seemed good enough to cool Everett down. When he was out of the bathroom, she was acting sane and dealwithable once again. Were all women like that? Daniel couldn't remember times that he traveled with a woman (or girl, in Everett's case) for any length, or had casual moments that allowed him to see how crazy they could've been. Oh well. Hopefully they all weren't as moody as she was! That would make having a significant other an extraordinarily difficult process, even after the difficulty of courting one. He couldn't really get past that step, though--but no matter! That was a completely unrelated problem of his. He heard her muttering and tried to listen, but failed. Her next statement was audible enough, though.

"Wot? Really?" Daniel moved to the dresser and opened the top drawer to investigate. Then the next drawer, then the next drawer-- holy hell, was that leather? Why was there this leather strap with a ball on--

Ohhhh.

These . . . definitely weren't going to suffice as fawx bandages. They'd definitely be nice to see on some other female--maybe Everett, too, when she wasn't being crazy, but no. No, that wasn't going to happen.

"Eh . . . heh, oI think these are more than just scraps of clothes. Moight be better on you than me," Daniel tried not to talk about that too much, though. "A-anyways, oI'll just ask the guy downstairs for some work to make a bit of cash for buying some new clothes and bandages. God knows we need some."

They weren't far from a town, after all. There was certainly going to be a market there, selling clothes and all the like. Finding bandages would be easy enough, too. In fact, George probably had some on hand that he might be willing to lend out if Daniel washed dishes or something. He'd just have to ask.

Mandaz: She didn’t want to spend too much time on the topic of the strange strips of cloth in the dresser, though confusion hit when Daniel suggested that she would be more suited for them. Maybe because she was smaller? Was he making fun of her height? Her brow furrowed as she crossed her arms and looked away, tapping her foot impatiently. Here she was, trying to be nice, and he just had to co and make fun of her. Still, there was no use fighting about it now. It seemed as if they’d been arguing since they woke up, maybe it was up to Everett to show a little responsibility and stop fighting before it started. Maybe.

“Well, let’s go downstairs and see if the nice owner will help us out then. Though, I gotta say, I don’t really like asking people for too much. We don’t want to be in anyone’s debt for too long.”

Nayto: "Yeah, seriously," Daniel replied.

Being in someone's debt was a pain in the ass. He knew what it was like to be strung along just because he owed someone something. If he could work off the price of the room, and then get some spending money, that'd be great. Then, he'd owe George nothing but gratitude, and they could be on their way.

"oI'm going to try and get some work from the guy, too. oI mean--think about it. This room probably costs quoite a bit for just one noight, so if oI work a little bit for 'im, the room will be paid off, and the bandages if he's got some to loan out, and we can just be on our merry way," Daniel spoke his plan as he approached the door, inevitably opened it up and holding it open for Everett. "After you."

It's just a gentleman's rule: ladies first.

The sooner they were downstairs, looking for ways to pay off what they probably owed the guy, the better off they were going to be.

Mandaz: Everett eyed him suspiciously. Why was he holding the door for her? It wasn’t like they were in any sort of formal setting. Weren’t they just fighting too? Oh well, she’d have to figure out Daniel’s schemes later. As long as he didn’t do anything funny behind her back, holding the door was a nice gesture.

“You think they have a job for invalids?” She questioned.

It wasn’t really meant to be offensive to him, though it may have come out that way. It was more of a way to ask if he felt up to working while being so injured, and she doubted that there would be a job for him here that didn’t require hard labor. The girl would step outside without another word, silently saying goodbye to one of the most comfortable beds she had ever slept in.

Nayto: That was one hell of a blow to the pride. He was an invalid, now? Daniel felt that one deep down on the inside, like a knife to the liver. He was even tempted to proclaim a righteous ouch, but refrained for the good of everyone. Sarcasm probably wouldn't be received too well; Everett might have even thought he was being serious.

"Not . . . oI'm not an invalid," Daniel muttered, "Besoides, how much does a guy have to move to wash dishes? They hand me a dirty mug, I clean it for them. Simple, roight?"

That was what he was hoping for, at least. As they made their way down the stairs and back to the bar, he could only hope that it'd be that simple. Any other man might have been weary, but Daniel could actually be hopeful. He was either too naive or too dense to consider the possibility that repaying the debt might involve some degree of danger.

Lemon: And in the bar, Daniel would find the man he was looking for. Even more gaudily dressed than the night before, he had changed out of his pajamas and into a suit of fine gold silk. The golden fedora was sitting next to his rump on the bar if only because including it in the ensemble would make it too expensive for normal humans to truly partake of and comprehend. George was sitting on the bar, his spindly legs crossed and resting on a bar stool as he watched his maids clean up the mess left by the drunkards the night before.

Five scantly clad women--though more modest than the night before by perhaps a thread or two--dove headfirst into their work of scrubbing the bar area to a shimmering glow. Soapy water sloshed about and the girls were soaked in sweat, but despite the grime, they seemed to be enjoying themselves and were still perfectly composed. George was obviously enjoying himself as much as the girls, but he turned his head casually when Daniel entered the room and motioned for him and Everett to have a seat with him on the bar.

“Afraid the old coots had a little too much spirit last night and trashed the place--though I admit it’s not an uncommon occurrence. How’d you fine folks sleep?”

Mandaz: The spectacle of the women dirty and wet, racing around the bar went practically unnoticed by Everett. She instead sat next to the finely dressed owner, more entranced by his outstanding duds than anything. He was dressed to fine for a bar like this. Maybe he had to go to some special occasion later? But then why risk getting the threads dirty in this place? It wasn’t something she’d dwell on for too long; to each his own.” Very well sir.” She answered, nodding her head a little.

“It was really generous of you to allow us that fine room. But how could we ever pay you back for something like that? We’re just poor children, not a cent to our name. And Daniel here is injured, as I said last night. We couldn’t just stay in such a nice room without doing something for you.”

Oh yes they could. In fact, Everett was hoping that her false charm would be enough to get them off scott free, maybe with a little bonus, considering how Daniel was now showing off his terrible wounds.

Nayto: It went without saying that the female employees of the bar had Daniel's full attention once they were downstairs. The owner's question was purely an afterthought, and to any observant fellow--which was obviously not Everett, Daniel was almost as bad as some of the drunks, always glancing, staring, and thinking once such luxuries were in view. It took Everett to get him to stop staring, though, as she hoisted herself up to sit upon the bar. Only then was he able to check the owner's attire, and find himself oddly jealous.

Damn, that's a fine suit.

He wasn't all about it like some were, but nice clothes were still pleasant to wear. Daniel hoisted himself up onto the bar, as well, finding it a bit odd, but enjoying the perspective it provided him. He could see down the maids' shirts this way. Fantastic. He sat next to Everett, and found his idle watching of the cleaning women interrupted when he started to catch on to Everett's deceptions. She talked so sweet and respectful, but he knew that she could be as moody and bratty as they came. Did George think the same? Surely he had been around much longer than Daniel, allowing him the opportunity to realize these kinds of things. He figured that Everett had a plan, though--so, rather than asking up front for a job, he let her do the talking. If the debt wasn't going to be cleared out of the kindness of the owner's heart, then he'd have to ask about getting a job there for a little bit.

Lemon: George waved his hand derisively. “Why, little miss I must confess myself absolutely shocked by the thought. I’d never ask you to pay me for the room, and between you and me I’m richer than god’s shoeshine anyway--wouldn‘t know what to do with the extra cash! Though, I must admit that when I insisted you take my most lovely of rooms, I had an ulterior motive. I need a package run into town, you see, but my beautiful inn requires every ounce of my attention! This has been a conundrum most foul that has plagued me for several nights, but then you arrive like little angels in the night! Perhaps you’d allow me to enlist your services?”
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Re: Forgetful Days

Postby Mandaz on Fri Nov 07, 2008 1:43 am

A Catch. Everett knew there was a catch. There was always a catch. Things so perfect didn’t just fall into your lap without being dropped by a devil. She tried not to sneer, not to laugh when he referred to them as angels, and also tried to act as surprised as she could muster. But honestly, going against her nature was starting to wear on her nerves.

“A package? For us to deliver? Sir, would you trust us with something so personal?”

The whole tone she used left a bad taste in her mouth. She wondered if the innkeeper didn’t have this planned all along. Sending his hound out to fetch two unsuspecting children and bring them here to be his slaves. If he was so rich, why not just send the package by post? Surely some message service must have existed here in these woods. There was an inn, after all, why not the other comforts of a city life?

“I’d be honored. We’d be honored! It’s a small price to pay for the kindness you’ve shown us. Isn’t that right, Daniel?”
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