Expatriate Darkleer (
aim_exorable) wrote in
vatheon2012-03-21 11:45 pm
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Entry tags:
8 ♐ Wandering hopes attacked by worries
Who: Expatriate Darkleer, Marquise Spinneret Mindfang, and Summoner (eventually)
Where: Up to the island
When: Backdated before his network post
Style: action
Status: Closed
[This is frustrating. Maddening. Dural can't find anything from the air, and their search in the forest has proved fruitless. It turns out that the last time he tracked down Summoner, the rebel learned from his mistake.]
[That's what he hopes is happening. Just another trigger that's got him in a bother and panicked, running on no sleep and little food.]
[Not his blood smeared against a wall somewhere. Not like-]
[Darkleer has to take a deep breath and close his eyes so he can think. A do-as-he-pleases, winged rebel... where would he go to hide? Not deeper into the city...]
[Dural on his shoulder, he makes his way to the elevator.]
Where: Up to the island
When: Backdated before his network post
Style: action
Status: Closed
[This is frustrating. Maddening. Dural can't find anything from the air, and their search in the forest has proved fruitless. It turns out that the last time he tracked down Summoner, the rebel learned from his mistake.]
[That's what he hopes is happening. Just another trigger that's got him in a bother and panicked, running on no sleep and little food.]
[Not his blood smeared against a wall somewhere. Not like-]
[Darkleer has to take a deep breath and close his eyes so he can think. A do-as-he-pleases, winged rebel... where would he go to hide? Not deeper into the city...]
[Dural on his shoulder, he makes his way to the elevator.]
no subject
Careful, now, don't want to interrupt my concentration.
[ Mindfang stares into the cueball, the mirth in her expression fading, her seven-pupiled eye focusing in on it intensely. Finally she looks up, tossing it back in her sylladex. ]
Lighthouse. Let's go.
no subject
[The lighthouse, then. He doesn't waste any time in making his way to the tall structure.]
should summoner come in after this?
I'll take the top and go down, you go from the bottom up. See you when we catch up to him.
Sounds good. Vou?
[UGH!]
[Still, he quickly goes in through the door at the base and finds himself scowling at the disrepair of the building.]
Works for me.
[He's crouched near a darker center of the old lighthouse, in the maintenance room at the tip top that's hidden nicely from the large windows. Sobbing, sure, he sobs, sobs for the fucking terrible feeling it is to watch your own body fall apart. Every movement shakes what's left of either of his wings. They're folded behind him, blanketing the floor. The back sections completely shredded off by now, in slits and cuts around the floor, painting it with intricate angular shapes. Lysunder's eyes are closed, legs crossed under him, butterfly style as he clutches pieces of his wings in his hands and can barely see them as he weeps over them, hands and wing pieces getting drops of orange on them here and there.]
[Shock's a funny thing, shock's the only reason he's not smart enough to just focus on this being normal, something that should happen. Being the only troll with wings it's really the best advantage, he knows shit about how they should work, even with his extensive knowledge about winged beasts. He's not a bat, a bird, and insect, and his mind isn't in a place to try and figure out what's happening, Lysunder's mind is just entangled in his loss, wanting it to just not be happening.]
no subject
Is he crying?
This is awkward. Really awkward and she should just sit here and wait for Darkleer. Being who she is, though, she just swallows nervously, texts Darkleer's SFC to let him know she found the Summoner, and then walks in. Her boots click-clack on the floor, and then she's leaning down next to him. ]
...Wow. You look awful. [ She reaches out to touch his back, then thinks better of it, withdrawing her hand again. ] Uh. Molting, I guess? Or did someone beat the shit out of you.
[ Darkleer is going to freak. ]
no subject
[Even with his glasses in place, the look on Darkleer's face couldn't be more thick with concern. Something creaks as his hands fist tighter and he immediately begins to walk over.]
Lysunder?
no subject
Leave! [His voice is strained, obviously harsh from his crying and it comes out like a growling beast wanting to speak the words of man with barely managing some sense of understanding.]
[And then again he's rushed with another presence, another smell, this even more recently familiar and his eyebrows furrow, quickly putting his hands up to cover his face, snarling. His fangs grind and he shakes his head, wings barely moving only to quickly stop, feeling more pieces fall to the floor.]
Tink, now isn't, the time.
Both of y-y-you, just leave me alone, don't... look at me.
no subject
She straightens up, backing away but not leaving the room. Then she glances to Darkleer. His matesprit, his show, right? ]
no subject
Who did this to you?
[His voice is low and dark, and more of his teeth are bared, all wild beast himself.]
I will tear their heart out and make them eat it for doing this to you.
no subject
DON'T-!
[He shrieks, removing a short lance from his sylladex and holding it up fast to Darkleer's neck but not striking, just keeping a defensive position. His chest is rising and falling noticeably as he takes deep breathes, teeth clenched tight and clear for either of them to see.]
No one, touched me, NO ONE WI-WILL!
[All his movements only seemed to shake more of his wings off, that's why he had been keeping so still, as if to save them from molting off his back anymore. And not this fight instinct is making him go mad, terrified of having anymore of his appendages damaged even know it's futile to stop it.]
no subject
[Whatever this is, it's either natural or an accident. No one else was involved. This wasn't something meant to strike at him in particular and meant to be a painful jab, and this wasn't something that was just the cruel manner of people and nature, stealing away something he loved and treasured. This isn't a letter left in an empty hive. This isn't a bloodied quadrant-ring he has to unwillingly remove.]
[Darkleer nearly sags in relief and presses lightly against the lance held to his throat, as if it doesn't matter that he was nearly struck.]
Oh thank god. [His eyes slip shut. AS hard as he can, he tries to regain a calm breathing pattern and cool the frenzy that had been starting in his mind.]
Lysunder. Calm down. It's only me.
MF jumping in again when she feels the need... or?