Post by Joliette Thorne on Apr 20, 2008 5:37:08 GMT -5
--Summit--
Ascending toward mountain’s summit, the magnificent views afforded adventurers below are lost to a veil of hanging clouds, a thick mist obscuring all but the immediate surrounds. The air is chill, damp and thin, the adventurer might find warm clothing and slower movements an advantage. The journey toward the very peak is oddly much simpler than any in the land below, the path almost completely preserved as though now and then it might still be tended. A smaller path, noticeable only in the slight wear of rock that speaks of a millennia of feet passing over it, leads toward a jutting platform to the west of the peak-trail.
Tenebrae was in a position not too different to the one in which Arysel had found her last time, though her state was considerably declined. Having survived the horrors of the journey here by sea in a small yacht stolen from the docks of Cenril, and the subsequent struggle through swamp and forest to this pinnacle, the vampiress was bedraggled and dirty, and more than exhausted. Her mental state at time of departure was such that she had not thought of bringing provisions, only what she'd had on her person -- even her pack had been left at the Corpse in her haste. What little nourishment she'd managed was gleaned from the swart Pygmies that skulked in the great forests below. They were hard to catch and unappetising, and she’d only fed on them to keep her body moving. Now, at the summit, Tene was sitting on a large, flat rock, tattered cloak scrunched by her side, and a longsword in her hands. She turned it this way and that in the harsh light, its reflection searing her vision to a white blindness for long moments, leaving spots of darkness in its wake. The sun itself was starting to burn her skin quite badly, but she was hardly in any frame of mind to care. It wasn't like she would be suffering sunburn tomorrow.
Arysel 's shadow, if it were to be noticed at all, would briefly cover the figure on the peak. Strong beats of snowy wings brings the Avian closer to the mountain in a slow circling decent. Ary's sharp eyesight had caught the familiar figure, and remembering her from the day or so before, Arysel had to wonder why the woman was out in the sun. After all, she'd been anxious to get out of it before. The acrid scent of almost charred flesh drifted up on the drafts caused by the moving see below. Battling the natural penchant for such drafts to carry the woman higher, Ary eventually descends. Instinctively she'd spread a magnificent wing to cover the vampiress, shading her from the brutal sun, "Tenebrae? Why are you out here?" Concern and curiosity laced through the alto tones.
Tenebrae wouldn't see the approaching shadow as a familiar form at all -- not only was she half-blind and moreso half-mad, but had not so many winged acquaintances that she would be expecting anyone. Nor, indeed, did her isolated position lend itself to friendly faces wandering by. So, as the winged woman descended, the vampiress assumed the looming darkness some vast bird of prey and her centuries-honed instincts for survival gripped her fingers to the sword, the weapon half-raised before it dawned on her what she was here for, and let the thing drop back to her lap. Whatever talons or razor beak were coming, she was prepared for them and readied herself for the inevitable by lowering her head, exposing the vulnerable nape of her neck. Easier than sword or sun, by far; it had not the shame of the act she'd contemplated. The shadow deepened, cooling a little the agony of her skin, and the creature landed. Yet no rip of flesh, nor cruel claw came; instead, only a gentle, familiar voice. Tene glanced sharply up, but could not make out Arysel's features at all. Haloed by the sun, with snow-hued wings-- she wondered for a moment whether she'd already died, and this was some merciful angel come to take her to her love. Not that she deserved an angel... The fancy faded, as she tried to pull her mind back to the here and now. This angel had a name... What was it again? Her voice was cracked and hoarse as she spoke it, "A..ary?"
Arysel simply nods, actually quite relieved the blade had been dropped as she takes the last few steps closer. Both wings meet above to block the majority of the sun, shielding the hurt and broken soul before her, "Yes, it's Ary. Tene, what are you doing out here? The sun will kill you."
Which was half of the whole idea, really. But she wasn't going to announce that fact. Instead, Tenebrae pondered how she might firstly encourage the avian to leave, and secondly, to not alert anyone to her position. But her razor-keen mind, already bruised and battered, was now suffering the deprivation of sleep, food and water, as well as the violent heat of the relentless sun. Struggling to find a plan, she failed and sighed. She had not even the strength in her to summon anger, and drive the woman off. Tene simply looked up again, blinking, her features beset with filth and resignation, and said, "I.. was looking for the gods. I got lost. Now I just want to die."
Arysel lets a resigned sigh flow past her lips. Looking at the distance from this small island to the mainland, the avian ponders if she should merely fly Tenebrae home. Maybe, if she could get the taciturn woman into a safe place til the sun set, she could go to her tavern and fetch help. As it was, Arysel didn't feel comfortable leaving her alone for any period of time. Her wings would have to do as shelter for now. "You don't really want to die. What would happen to your clan, or the tavern. I'd planned to audition for you in hopes of playing there. Now, I can't do that if you're dead, can I?" Ary's voice was soft, and she added a bit of a sing-song quality to it. Injecting a few calming notes even as her fingers strummed the lyre that hung innocently at her waist.
Tenebrae shuddered, even though the chill mist usually settled on this high ground had long since lifted in the noontime heat, for whatever time it might do so. Scrunching her eyes hard, as though that would somehow instantly cure her sun-blindness, she would open them to only a slightly more recognisable blur. "I have left the clan. It, and the pub, are in good hands." She hoped. The sweet tones ringing from Arysel's lyre, combined with the avian's gentle voice, however, did gentle the tremors that shivered her skin. "I wanted..." She shook her head. "I --want-- to be at peace. To stop the hurt."
Arysel keeps the soft notes playing, nodding in quiet understanding, "The Gods will give you that peace, all in good time. Until then, there are things here you need to accomplish." A hand is held in invitation, one that offered a bit of peace for the moment, some respite from the hurting. "Let me take you home. Let those who love you care for you." The tone changes now, the lyre humming softly, sleepily, suggesting the sweetest of dreams should one close their eyes.
Tenebrae was falling under the avian's soothing spell, her shaking body lulled, her mind questioning her dire intent, right up to the moment where loved ones were mentioned. Whatever spark of hope might have kindled in her icy and abyssal heart was quenched, her features setting to a stubborn mien that those who knew her well had come to dread. "I know no love. My love is dead." With these few words, spoken curtly, she gripped her sword harder; more a symbol of her replenished resolve than any threat to Arysel. "Everything I wanted to do is being done. And the gods..." her laugh was short, bitter, more of a crow's bark. "They hate me so. I wanted to go see them. Make them give him back..." Wincing, she shifted the topic abruptly. "I will not go. And if you go to tell them where I am, they will find only my corpse."
Arysel merely shrugs and settles down next to her, "Well, no one should die alone then. Though, I'd have to wonder, would your love want to see you do this to yourself?" The shade is kept though, the sun beating down upon her pale skin, not as harshly as it does to Tenebrae, but it's leaving it's mark upon her as well. Ignoring the discomfort, she looks out to the undulating sea. "I've a feeling he maybe wouldn't."
Arysel may as well have struck the vampire with a slap to her cheek, and Tene might have reddened as much, had she the blood in her to raise it. Where her sharp and hair-trigger temper might ordinarily be sparked, she had not the energy to raise that, either. So she looked out to sea, instead, and shook her head. "That he would not." The rogue's features shimmered in her mind-- or was it on the distant sea? she couldn't tell-- and she blinked and blinked, to banish them. When she spoke next, her voice was very small. “He’d tell me I was being an idiot, most likely."
Arysel, nodding sagely, merely waits. A heart beat or two passes before again she speaks, "Let me know when you're ready to go home." An image of her own shimmers on the haze created by the sun trying to dry up the ocean. The cerulean waves crash below, the sound muffled by distance but there, matching the beat that thrummed in her own head. Constantly the music was there. In the wind, in the ground, telling it's secrets. "I will fly you back. It should be quite the experience."
Home. Was there such a thing, anymore? Every house was just four walls, every land merely a stretch of dirt. There was no joy left, in any of it. But a twinge of self-consciousness, that ineffable pride, perhaps, had Tenebrae unwilling to seem so weak in front of such goodness. "Aye." Her eyes had lost their black spots, for the most part, and she glanced sidelong to Arysel. "Just... I need some time. Please, don't tell them where I am?" Her look would be a pleading one, her need for solitude greater than vanity or pride, or any of her prodigal sins.
Arysel nods. She'd not tell them where she was for the simple fact that, strange as it seemed, Arysel felt a sort of protectiveness towards Tenebrae and had no intention of leaving, or at the very least going far. "They'll not learn it from me. Are you hungry?"
Tenebrae was beyond hunger, to the point of starvation in fact. But the woman's question was only an aside to the current one-- of how, exactly, Arysel had coerced Tene out of her death-wish. The vampiress couldn't help admiring her companion's skill. Akin to her own, but put to a kinder use. "I haven't... eaten. In a long time." She raised one dirt-besmirched and sun-ravaged hand, as if to ward the avian off. "Don't wake my hunger.." Arysel was the only blooded creature in reach, after all, but Tene didn’t want to say so out loud, hoping the other would put two and two together.
Arysel darts a stormy grey gaze to the vampire. A twist of her lips renders the warning a moot point. "Your hunger is the least of my worries, M'lady. I was just wondering if it would be safe to carry you to the hut down there so I can rest my wings and you can get out of the sun and heal." If truth be told, Arysel would probably have given a bit of her life for this creature if she'd asked. " I could fly to the mainland and bring you back something if you'd like." This last was said with a bit of reluctance. As unpredictable as Tene seemed to be, Ary'd not like to return to a corpse that didn't move, or a pile of ashes.
Tenebrae studied Arysel's face doubtfully. She knew only too well how the vampire in her took over when her body was depleted. "But then", she said to herself, aloud "if I am having these thoughts, I am not so irrational as all that? Am I?" It may have eluded her that talking to herself wasn't the most hale-minded of things to be doing, and hence her nodding acquiescence. "Alright." Tene doubted the slender female had the strength to carry her downhill, let alone over a wide sea. But she'd humour Ary, for her care, and not without a little self-preserving wish to see whether she might end up dropped into an ocean one of these days.
Arysel let the woman talk it out before standing. Muscles used for flight would be put to a much different purpose today, unless..."Alright..you want to go back, or alright take you to the hut?" A smile hovers around her lips. Turning her head, Ary gauges the distance from the mountain top to the hut her keen eyesight had spotted while aloft.
"The hut would be fine." As it stood, Tene really couldn't see any going back, but at least she was snapped from that terrible act of staring into the void. "Thanks."
Arysel nods and humms softly, a tune that was light and airy, it would wrap around the vampire, rendering her light enough to carry if she couldn't walk, "Can you walk if I shade you? Or would you rather I carry you?"
Tenebrae struggled to her feet, but legs that had been crossed too long, and exposed to the harshest of light for hours, would not support even her own slender weight, not even with the airy spell she didn't know was occurring. "Uh.." Grappling a craggy rock to one side of the pair, she would give Arysel a half-smile that cracked her charred lips to bleeding. "Carry me?"
-- Sheer Cliff--
However you came here, via the tunnels below or having made repairs to the broken bridge, it’d be best to watch your step-- the pathway drops away in great waterfall of granite to splash far below in the sea of green that melts into one of blue beyond a thin band of gold. Depending on the weather and hour of the day, the view here can be quite impressive as the body of the island lies naked and pure to the eye. Of course, due to the altitude and exposure, the wind here is bitter and violent, threatening to pluck the flippant or frail from the shelf like a withered leaf from a sagging bough. The path itself is deadly and whimsical, streaking across the side of the mountain running east-west, then north-south (or the opposite if travelling from the summit to the jungle); footing is doubtful, the ledge merely a foot and a half wide, and the thin hairs of stone are liable to subsidence.
Arysel crouches down next to the vampire and winds an arm around her shoulders, another beneath her knees and lifts her, much like she would have a child. With the tips of her wings held aloft, providing yet as much shade as possible, Arysel begins the track down, careful not to stumble on loose stones.
Tenebrae couldn't have spoken, just now, even were she not so utterly worn out. The avian's obvious strength was ... well, inhuman. But she recalled Demont, and his carrying off of a certain very fat town official as though the man were a mere child. Tene closed her damaged eyes, as they passed out of the day's glare into the blessed cool of the shade.
Arysel slows now, edging her way down the ledge. The tap-tap-tapping of her toe finds solid perch before even a step is made. It didn't worry her too much should they fall, after all. Ary could fly. It was Tenebrae's reaction should something like that happen that truly worried the avian.
Tenebrae would apologise later, if she remembered, for the way she buried her raw-skinned face hard into Arysel's shoulder. Not out of any fear of the height, or the ginger way the avian stepped, or even the prospect of being suddenly airborne, she told herself, but to shield what was left of her tender skin from the biting winds that threatened to buffet them over the edge. She'd stay that way until they were clear of the cliff-face.
--Broken Bridge--
The undergrowth breaks out as the land breaks away to a deep gorge lined by clumps of weed and creeper, where small shelves jut out into the chasm. Numerous trees towards the edge of the drop reach out across the gorge towards their comrades in similar pose, mirrored on the opposite side of the expanse, their roots snaking over the stone that quickly explains its grim facade where soil has lost right of passage. It would appear, however, that the chasm was bridged by creatures intelligent enough to carry out the task, thick scaffolds of wood at either end supporting four thick cables of vine that sag slightly over the endlessness of darkness below. The width of an ogre's bicep, they are certainly sturdy enough to support the weight of all but the most excessive creatures, though the entire structure is raped of ingenuity by the state of disrepair it has been allowed to fall into. Whether those that had seen to its upkeep were now long dead and devoured by the island or had simply moved so far inland they had no need to venture to the beach cannot be known. Regardless, the bridge would be excessively difficult to traverse in current condition, a vast void of the planks that lie lashed atop the bottom vine-twins making it useless for convenient travel.
Arysel gently shifts the clinging weight of Tenebrae to get a better look at the bridge. Whispering into her ear, Ary says just as gently, "We may have to do a little hop over this. If you have to, hold as tightly as you need to."
"H...hop?" Tene made the mistake of looking down. Shortly after, her face was once more buried in the avian's shoulder. Her assent came as little more than a squeak. "Alright."
Arysel biting back the bubble of laughter that threatened, Arysel crouches, bunching thigh and calf muscles in readiness for the brief leap over the bridge. Springing forth, her grip tightens and those wings flap with great bursts of power, sailing them over the gap and safely onto the other side. "We're across, M'lady." Glancing back over her shoulder, Ary was rather glad that the woman hadn't looked midflight, considering her reaction to the gorge.
Tenebrae 's fingers would no doubt have left some sort of imprint on Arysel's skin that may even be visible on the morrow. But she hadn't looked, and so the horrors of falling would remain the stuff of her secret nightmares for now. "Oh... very good." Unclutching her grip, so far as to venture no further discomfort to her benefactor, Tene cleared her throat a little. "Might do to tuck those wings away. Forest gets dense as we go."
--Jungle Trail--
The sky is swallowed by a thick sheet of green, the boughs a brown thread stitching the seams together, and the temperature by day soars, by night still considerably warmer than in exposed areas. Beneath the impressive canopy towering above, a rich and esoteric accumulation of life flourishes abundantly; the exotic blossoms of giant flowers coaxing huge and alien insects to deviate from their lazy, or erratic, flights to die within veiled chambers of corrosive bile; loud and colourful birds screaming to one another in shrill notifications across the lattice of heavy vines that threads between the high branches of the trees; large shadows breaking the living-stillness of the undergrowth as foreign beasts hunt within their territory. By night, the jungle is just as alive with the symphony of moonlight or rain, the rattling mating calls of huge beetles harmonising the deep booms of those from large mammals or even reptiles. A hazardous, deadly terrain, death could lie in a single brush against a thorn; a single drop from a toxic vine onto the scalp; the teeth and claws of deadly beast and bird. Though in death, one might find solace in the knowledge their carcass would further the life of the place, armies of insects and nauseating walking-fungi making sure no scrap is wasted beneath the great green eyelid of the world.
Folding her wings down her back, Arysel moves with simple grace amongst the trees. It was rather difficult to hide the shudder, the rise of panic as the sky was cut off and the trees closed in. Biting her lip instead, Arysel pushes aside the phobia and pushes forward. Grey eyes wide as they dart back and forth, searching out anything that might pose a danger to the woman and her charge.
The forest indeed closed about the women like a great green fist, though room enough between the vasty tree-girths and drapings of vines that it wouldn't be too hard to avoid the various dangers Tene would point out as they travelled to the hut below. It was better, by day-- the chitinous giants that scavenged here for food, the great jungle-cats and ghastly ambulant fungi were all nightwalkers by habit, lessening at least that part of the risk. Still, there was need for caution, and sharp eyes, and she has only the former and would rely on Arysel for the latter. And so they went, uneventfully, until... There was nothing wrong with Tenebrae's ears. A soft crackle sounded, too regular in cadence for a beast's feet. She squeezed the avian's shoulder, whispering in a voice as quiet as mice, "Pygmies." For the first time, the vampiress would truly regret making a meal of their stoic little chieftain, as well as the fact that this race happened to be quite diurnal. And should Arysel glance about to the trees, she might glimpse the glitter of beady eyes, or the slight motion of a blowdart finding its aim.
Arysel was glad to have good hearing. A puff of air, harshly blown to carry the insidious projectile in their direction was warning enough. It didn't miss her entirely, no, it would find a notch to be taken out of a carelessly flung wing, the upper edge would be stained red with the flow of avian blood. Hissing softly with the pain, Arysel darts behind a rather massive tree and lays Tenebrae on the ground. The dappled sunlight muted by the haze of moisture the hovered on the jungle floor. Hopefully that would be enough to protect the vampiress, "I take it they aren't friends of yours." Arysel blinks, her vision blurring and takes a moment to wonder what had been on that dart as she shakes her head to clear it.
Tenebrae shook her head, frowning at the pinking stain on one wing, the white of feathers diluting blood welling from the small wound. "Not really, no." Her brow furrowed deeply. Those darts were used for hunting, not deadly weapons in themselves, but laced with various poisons designed to stun prey out of the taller branches, letting gravity deal the killing blow. "We must get out of here, and quickly." She caught Arysel's slight shake of head, and struggled upward, despite the skin that stretched and split, and the agony of her joints. "I can walk. It's as far down as back up." There was no way she'd let the other take wing, not with whatever-it-was in her bloodstream. Downhill it would be. "We need a distraction...." But even as she spoke, it was as though the gods saw fit to grant her the slightest bit of good fortune, a voluminous roar sounding from down the trail scattering the swart little hunters like leaves in a wind. She'd have said something, then, perhaps enquired as to how the avian was feeling, but there was another roar. And it too, was familiar.
Arysel snaps her eyes open, fighting through the haze to listen to the muffled sound of Tenebrae’s voice. Light glints off golden tresses as she staggers to her feet, trying to think of a distraction with her drug hazed mind. Leaden limbs shuffled forward, intent on following the vampire. Leaves fluttered out of the trees from the resounding roar that came. "Hurry, that sounds big. Just, run, and don't worry about me. I'll be right behind you." Well, she'd at least try to keep that promise as she pushed forward, moving her feet as fast as they would go over the uneven ground. Stumbling a few times only to miraculously catch herself. The wing though, ached constantly with each pounding beat of her heart.
Tenebrae was too slow to stop the drugged avian's scramble for freedom, at least for those first few steps. But even with her skin peeling in strips with the exertion of the dash, blood seeping steadily from the cracks and char there, she was a vampire and thus quicker than most two-legged creatures when it came to motion on the ground. A sun-injured arm shot out, a hand caught Arysel firmly by the arm. "It's alright! Stop, it's alright!"
Tene turned back toward the trail, and shouted, "GOMRAK!"
"Wait, it's alright, Ary. It's just Gomrak. The uh.." Tene smiled to the avian, meekly. "Cannibal orc."
Arysel stops with the instant grab from Tenebrae. It takes a moment for the woman's words to sink in. Glassy eyes stare incredulously, "A cannibal orc? He's going to help?" Confusion reigned in her tone, matching the furrow of a brow.
Tenebrae nodded, keeping her grip for now. "He's only after eating other orcs.. and not entirely by choice." She might explain the shipwreck story the green-skin had told her, another day. "And the odd Pygmy. He's not that bad, otherwise." Arysel might have found reason to disagree, as with a violent crash the creature himself appeared, half as wide at the shoulder as one of the great trees and with a face that had obviously come out the worst in a shark-fight. "Gomrak!" Tene wanted the orc to be very sure he knew it was her. "Some help?" She stepped between the avian and the newcomer, her gaze tilted upward to the massive seafarer. The orc himself scowled down-- less from any ire than this being the sole expression his scarred face might hold -- and grunted a series of guttural words. Tenebrae, apparently no stranger to orcish, turned back toward Arysel and said, "That's his hut down there. Let him carry you. You won't make it, in your state."
Arysel was not entirely sure how it had happened that her rescue attempt had been so turned around, but was grateful nonetheless to be carried by the orc. Even as she nodded her agreement, she'd voice that concern, "What about you?" Swaying, she'd have fallen except for the hold that Tenebrae had on her. It was difficult to disguise the near buckling of her knees as anything other as she raises a hand to catch herself with the trunk of the nearest tree.
The orc would answer her question for her, silently, as Arysel herself was scooped up in one thick arm, care taken not to crush a wing, and Tene under the other. The vampiress' face was dangling beside the seafarer's belt, where hung the giant conch Gomrak had used to frighten the Pygmies away. A concerned glance was thrown to Arysel, but the woman's face was obscured by a fall of golden hair that swayed in time with the big humanoid's steps. They were making rapid progress now. Tene hoped the orc had something left in the washed-up medicine chest she‘d found, to help the drugged avian and her own burns that were starting to throb now, a steady, agonising pulse.
Arysel lets her eyes close with the hypnotic pace the orc kept. Curling into the cradling arm, she'd simply let sleep overtake her. The injured wing twitching every now and again with the steady throb that matched the beat of her heart, Arysel’s breathing kept a slow, steady rhythm.
-- Whalebone Hut--
At the end of the trail lies another coarse beach; a small, natural clearing containing a large and oddly-constructed hut. Under frond-woven outer walls, the hut is seen to have been fashioned from the ribcage of a long-dead whale. Scattered about almost randomly are trunks, bits of lumber and broken barrels, other sundry items that make it clear these are the remains of a shipwreck. Circling the hut is a grisly spectacle – seven bamboo poles, to the top of which are affixed seven half-fleshed orcish skulls, thick with flies and corpse-beetles. By the cold remains of a fire lie cracked and roasted bones – also orcish. The whole scene reeks of vile savagery. The question is no longer whether the island is occupied, but rather occupied by what, and how many?
Once Gomrak had reached the grisly bone-shack he called home and ducked his height under the low door frame, Tenebrae was lain down carefully on a rough bunk constructed of flotsam leavings. The remainder of a ship's deck for a base, the bed was arranged hastily via the nudging of one huge, leathery foot. The blankets he shoved on top were rough and torn, and not too clean, nor comfortable on charred flesh. Arysel was a different matter-- he'd glance to Tene, pausing. She chewed gently on her sore lower lip, wondering how, indeed, a woman with wings slept. Finally, she directed that the limp form be lain on her stomach in the tightly-strung hammock that was Gomrak's own resting-place. The orc told her, in his garbled tongue, that the poison was likely to wear off in sleep, but Tene's own wounds would need a salve, for which he must go and collect berries. With that, he scuffed away over the sands, leaving Tene to stare at the avian's sleeping form. This is what it was to be friends with Tenebrae, she wanted to say, as she settled down into the lumpy bed. Danger, and blood. Death shifting shape with every corner turned. If Leo had never met her, maybe...
And then she too, had fallen to a slumber almost as deep as Arysel's own, mercifully dreamless.
Arysel shifted restlessly in her sleep, tucking a hand under a pale cheek. The wings were folded against her body as she turned, wincing in slumber, onto her side and drawing up her knees. Soft, even breathing greeted the quiet from the women.
-- Next Day--
Arysel eases into the hut crafted so cleverly. The clanking of bottles could be heard in the satchel attached to her waist, and, with a wince, Arysel clamps her hand down on the noisy glass. It wouldn't do to wake Tenebrae just yet. The woman needed some sort of sleep, rest, after the ordeal. Though, most things were a bit fuzzy still.
Tenebrae was dreaming of a ship, magnificent of sail, with mahogany decks. Vast black sails billowed in the wind, obscuring her vision of the ship's wheel. Someone was at it.... someone was sailing Eternity again... she couldn't see him, but for a brief glimpse of untidy blond hair...and then the ship's bell sounded, once, twice. Tene blinked her eyes open, but stayed silent a long moment, mind reeling as it adjusted from one reality to the next. "Leo?" She could never fully see him in her dreams, not since he went missing. She propped up to one elbow, ignoring the rip of peeling skin that lay in shreds over every inch of exposed flesh, a glance cast upward to Arysel. "Ello, pet. You better, then?"
Arysel glances up from setting the three bottles she'd managed to procure on the floor next to Tene. Looking back at the injured wing, tinted a light pink at the crest, she'd offer a wry smile and shrug, "I feel alright. I guess I didn't move fast enough, eh?" Gesturing to the three bottles, Arysel would nod, "I went and got these for you. I have to know. What is it with people managing to speak into ones head?" The last was tossed out rather casually as she backed away. There was no telling how hungry the vampire was, and Arysel wanted to be ready to get more of those bottles if they were needed.
Tenebrae grinned, looking about for signs of Gomrak, and found only the sweet-smelling pot of salve beside her makeshift bedding and a large, half-gnawed femur left beside the entrance. Orcs were not known for their housekeeping, at the best of times. She'd smile at Ary's words. "Gotta be quick, to avoid the darts. Pygmies're buggers to hunt, I can tell you." The bottles were examined; realising what they were, she'd drag herself fully upright, manners forgone as she snatched on up, hastily uncorked it with her teeth and guzzled half down in hardly more time than it took the avian to ask her question. "Thanks." was all she'd manage to gasp out before the rest was drunk, as quickly. At least partially quenched, already reaching for the next bottle she quelled the savage hunger that possessed her mind and considered what Ary had asked. "Telepathy. Some have it, most do not. It's a power, to speak without speaking. Mind to mind." Another cork was pulled, spit out. More wine. "I have it. Don't like using it..." She shuddered a little. "Opens you up to the other mind, see? Sometimes it makes a more permanent link..."
Arysel politely turns away as she drinks, wandering about the hut, again fighting to keep the rising panic concealed, "Then, it seems a lot have this gift. My mind has been spoken to quite often lately. It's a bit disconcerting to say the least." Reminding herself repeatedly that the walls really weren't moving, Arysel nonetheless inches closer to the entrance. "Is this something one can learn?"
Tenebrae slugged down the last bottle, her eyes gleaming in the semi-dark. An errant trickle was wiped from her chin with the crook of a finger, and she'd study Ary intently all the while. The woman seemed quite perturbed. "I'd say you've already got it in spades." She nodded, were Arysel to look at all incredulous. "Have to, to be hearing everyone like that." The bottle was set beside the other empties, a slight chagrin crossing the vampire's features as she did so. Looking back to the avian, she frowned. "So, it's less a matter of learning it than controlling it. You can shut the others out. I'd have gone mad long ago, if I hadn't figured out how."
Arysel frowns, the corners of her mouth turned down sharply as she looks at Tenebrae, "I've never heard others speaking in my head until I came here. I'm not all together sure I like it." Here, she'd think, pausing a moment, "Well, except for a couple of them." Standing now, next to the crude doorway, Ary relaxes. Having an avenue of escape, even if it was just in her head, calmed her greatly. The walls had stopped shrinking and again, there was air to be had. And in fact it was drawn deeply into her lungs and expelled slowly. "Are you ready to leave yet?"
Tenebrae chewed her lip. "Strange..." She wondered whether others of Arysel's kind had mind-speak, and how it was that the woman was so sensitive here. Her stomach growled. "We shall figure it out. If you like, I will teach you how to use.. or develop this skill. Even if just to stop the noise." She'd leave the option hanging, for now. The avian's obvious discomfort within the hut had her brow knit again. But she'd only reply to Ary's last question, "No, pet. I'm not going back." She added, hastily, "And don't worry, I'm not doing anything to... you know. But my people are best off without me, I think. My company..." She'd nod toward the injured wing. "I'm not what you'd call blessed with luck." Indeed, all her luck had vanished, as though he'd never been. "So I'll be staying here."
Arysel blinks..and blinks again. It was unbelievable, the arrogance of this woman. To think her people could do without her. "Tenebrae, my injury was my own fault. Not yours. How do you know your people are better?" Huffing a breath, forgetting for a moment the panic as she pushed away from the door. "Luck..what is this luck? It's what you make it. By choices." Why was she antagonizing this woman, someone Ary hoped to work for. Biting her lip, and her tongue, she turns away. The quivering of her wings really the only sign of the anger she kept bottled up. When they finally calmed, smooth and unruffled as usual, Arysel would turn. Calm grey the order of the day for the eyes that sought out Tenebrae, "You don't know how lucky you are to have people that need you. To have ..felt that kind of devotion from even one person. And you will throw it away."
Tenebrae had long ago blanked her ability to perceive every thought cast her way, but she had a centuries-old predator's skill at picking up the most minute signals cast by the body, as to what the subject -- or victim -- of her scrutiny was thinking. Dismay would spread across Tene's features, even before the avian's words confirmed her anger. That she would so ruffle this gentle spirit was only further proof of the vampiress' cursedness, in her own mind. Once more, Ary might see that adamantine cast of stubbornness tighten her companion's jaw. "There's always more to things than meets the eye." She paused, swallowed the grit in her tone. "Look, I come with baggage. Dangerous stuff, harmful. I have to..." She had just decided. "Deal with that, before I think about coming back. I just need some time." A tiny smile, intended to be reassuring.
Arysel snorts out a laugh, "M'lady, you are lucky, more than you think. But if I can't change your mind, what say I bring someone who might? I could hang out at your tavern and act the mad woman, demanding someone who is in charge come and drag your stubborn self out of here." Shaking her head, Arysel merely takes her place by the safety of the door once more, sliding down to sit with her back against the wall. "No, no I won't do that. I promised that I'd not tell a soul you were here, and I won't. I've never broken a promise. I won't start now, even if it would be for your own good." Leaning her head back, Ary closes her eyes with a soft sigh. "Well, you're stuck with me then I suppose. Who else is going to bring you sustenance. Of course, you could always take what you needed from me if you'd like. Something I am rather glad you haven't done yet."
Tenebrae's expression would shift from genial, at the other woman's humour, to abruptly chilly. "I will not feed from you." Hardwired in her now was the demand of her spirit to deny her hungering flesh the blood of friends. She softened a little, then. "Though, I thankyou for the offer. But I have the Pygmies. Gomrak will hunt them for me until I am stronger." A small wince. "I'm immune to their monkey-poison, mostly. But..." She managed another smile. "If you could see your way to bringing me a bottle now and then, I'd be very grateful." More for the company than the blood, really. "And thanks, for not telling anyone where I am."
Arysel cracks open an eye, just enough so her sight wasn’t blurred by the lashes that swept over her checks, "Well, if you are ever in need, the offer stands." Looking towards the already empty bottles, a nod is given, "How many? Those little runts can't be very appetizing and at least you can be comfortable while you heal." Emotionally, as well as physically, Ary thinks to herself. "As for not telling, well, no one has asked. Of course, I am perfect to keep this secret, yes? No one knows I know you, nor that you know me. I'm just the strange avian singer who buys blood wine for an imaginary friend."
Tenebrae snickered softly. "No-one would notice yet another eccentric in the lands.." She thought about the offer of bottles, her pride already flaring. "Just three, when you come to visit." Her lips pursed a moment. "I have no gold here to pay you with. But I will find something for recompense." She gave Ary a stern look that would forbid argument on that point, which softened somewhat on the realisation: "You look tired, pet."
Arysel clears her throat and pushes away the new bit of music that was tempting her play again. " Three bottles. I can do that, with no worries about repayment. I just ask for the chance to audition for you when you decide to go back." Tired..maybe, it seemed Arysel always felt tired these days. Of course, finding somewhere to sleep was a different story. "Maybe a little. I don't sleep well. Not when there are so many songs clamouring to be heard."
Tenebrae's eyed widened a little, with interest. "Music... in your mind? Like the voices?" That was a new one on her. "And consider yourself auditioned and hired, pet. See Isen or Terra if you'd like work..." She frowned. "Of course you'd have to audition all over, they can't know..." Things were so complex. She really had no intention of returning to the pub. Tene couldn't help looking exasperated. But amused, with it. The avian was a wily one, indeed.
Arysel merely smiles an enigmatic smile. "I will only audition for you. I met Isen and don't think I'd like to audition for him. He is one who makes me uneasy." Waving a hand languidly, she'd answer the first questions now, "No, not like the voices. The music is always there, a symphony just waiting to come to life. To be heard."
Tenebrae grinned at the mention of Isen, rolling her eyes minutely at Ary's stubbornness-- quite on par with her own, it seemed. The latter comment had her sitting up now, sheets of healing skin flaking from her limbs, the process speeded somewhat by rest and replenishment. "So... You hear music, all the time? Like, how, exactly?" She'd glance to the lyre. "Is this what you play, on your... thing there?"
Arysel nods, "Mmhmm. I hear it, in my head. I can sometimes see the notes dancing behind my eyes if I concentrate." A hand strays to the instrument, patting the lyre lovingly before caressing the hushed strings. " I've had this since I was a child. I have never been apart from my lyre. I made it. I put blood, sweat and tears into making it perfect." Taking it from the loop, Ary leans forward, handing the beloved instrument to the woman, letting her inspect the workmanship. Every mark of the chisel was visible from the crafting of the frame. The deeper crimson of the cherry stain would be where the chisel had slipped, nicking small fingers. The scares were still there, though faded and covered with the calluses of long hours playing. "Music is everywhere if you listen. It's on the wind, in the earth, the crash of waves and the minutest sounds from the tiniest creature. I hear it all."
Tenebrae was slightly taken aback to be allowed to hold the instrument, so precious to its maker. Perfect indeed. Though Tene had no knowledge of lyres or how they were made, she could hear its perfection in the clear, sweet notes it sang when touched, and how the balance of it, in much the same way as an exceptional weapon, seemed to make it a natural extension of her hand. The bloodstains did not go unnoticed. Yes, much like a weapon. They needed to be blooded, too, to come to life. "It's lovely." She felt her words to be the grossest understatement. "You are blessed, to hear such beauty around you." Tenebrae offered the lyre back, with infinite care.
Arysel smiles rather proudly and takes back the lyre, settling it once more upon her hip. "I like to think so. It's amazing, the power a song can have. The right combination of notes can bring about the most unexpected results. Everything from tears of sorrow, laughter, joy, even love. Memories too can be brought forth with a song. Something you hadn't thought you knew perhaps, or a memory long buried and brought out again like a long lost friend to warm and cheer you."
Or to rend your soul apart, was Tene's extension of the avian's words. The very idea of having her memories raised like long-dead, monstrous corpses made her shiver. "Well, that's wonderful!" The cheery tone might mask her discomfort, none of it showing in her face. "Quite the skill you have there." She changed the topic. "So... do all of your kind have this ability? I don't recall Demont being particularly musical, but I'd hazard a guess that he's not the most typical of your race, being how he is."
Arysel , for the first time becomes nearly still. Clearing her throat a few more times, she'd drop her otherwise forthright gaze to the ground, "No. Not all of my people are musically gifted. And M'lord Demont is very much not like any of us." Something soft and warm creeps into her voice, something that hints at deeper feelings. Feelings that Ary would never admit to herself out loud anyway. "No, he's definitely not like anyone I have ever met."
Tenebrae's peridot-hued eyes narrowed slightly, the avian's body betraying feelings as surely as anything a thought-reader could discern. But thoughts expressed in the body alone are things deeply hidden, either by will or denial. Whichever case this was, Tene had just gained the knowledge that Demont was very special indeed to this woman. She'd keep that to herself, of course, and grin. "Me, neither. Strange bird he is." Pink fingers, bright with new skin as yet to pale, were pressed over her lips, the vampiress' eyes twinkling. "Oh. I didn't mean to sound insulting to your people or anyth..." Her apology would be cut short, by sound of heavy steps approaching. Tene glanced to the rustic doorway in time to see Gomrak's great, scarred head enter, the orc almost bent double to gain entrance to his makeshift home. Under one arm lolled the body of a Pygmy. The tiny man was stirring faintly, and as he groaned a row teeth filed to points flashed white.
"Food." The orc's voice boomed through the confined space as he threw the captive to Tene's feet. Arysel was given a red-eyed glace and a nod before the massive man backed out again. In the ensuing silence, Tenebrae would look at the victim and then to Arysel. Not a pretty sight, watching a vampire feed from a, living source. Particularly one she didn't much care for. "Uh... please... don't think I'm being rude." She bit her lip. "Again."
Arysel would politely avert her gaze, "No, I'm not insulted. Birds are beautiful creatures. I think they almost enjoying flying as much as I do." The distinctive sound of the vampire feeding doesn't quite make her squirm, but nearly. A few furtive glances are cast from the corner of her eye, checking occasionally, subtly, to discern when the vampire was done. " I thought about trying to make one my pet, but it didn't seem right to hinder such freedom."
Tenebrae would turn away a bit, the body dragged with her, sparing Arysel the worst of it as she chewed at the throat and drained the small being of its vitality. It didn't take long. Soon the husk was dropped to the floor, the vampiress covering it with one of the rough blankets from her bed, for the time being. Licking her lips, eyes still bright with a predatorily sheen, she'd look again to Ary. "Bird, you say?" She thought of the few parrots she'd made acquaintance with, and her lip curled in disgust. "Can't say I blame you for not wanting one. Having a familiar does make time less lonely, though." She thought of Maladroit fondly, wondered how the hideous little goblin was holding up without her. He'd have been free of their bond, on her death. Tene would make sure to needle him with the knowledge of how close he'd come to liberty. "Even if they can be troublesome at times." A hand was raised, to cover a yawn.
Arysel turns at the sound of a body thumping onto the floor, "Maybe five bottles instead of three." A bland look is passed over the corpse..of the pygmy that is. It was hard to feel bad about a people who had tried to kill you.
Tenebrae was sated, pain fading steadily as her body went to work repairing the sun-damage and other injuries sustained on her gruelling journey. Snuggling under the coarse cloth of a blanket, she nodded sleepily. "Five... " Ice-green eyes would close, then, the vampiress' form taking on a serenity that would be troubled only later, under a dreamed moon, where mismatched eyes would glow from out the shadows, green and feral orange.
Arysel takes note of the stillness that comes over Tenebrae. Pushing with her feet, she'd stand, making a hasty exit from the small, tiny hut. Taking great, huge gulps of the heavy, salted air, Arysel spreads out her wings to stretch them before taking flight. Back to that city of rubble and grey dust.
Ascending toward mountain’s summit, the magnificent views afforded adventurers below are lost to a veil of hanging clouds, a thick mist obscuring all but the immediate surrounds. The air is chill, damp and thin, the adventurer might find warm clothing and slower movements an advantage. The journey toward the very peak is oddly much simpler than any in the land below, the path almost completely preserved as though now and then it might still be tended. A smaller path, noticeable only in the slight wear of rock that speaks of a millennia of feet passing over it, leads toward a jutting platform to the west of the peak-trail.
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Tenebrae was in a position not too different to the one in which Arysel had found her last time, though her state was considerably declined. Having survived the horrors of the journey here by sea in a small yacht stolen from the docks of Cenril, and the subsequent struggle through swamp and forest to this pinnacle, the vampiress was bedraggled and dirty, and more than exhausted. Her mental state at time of departure was such that she had not thought of bringing provisions, only what she'd had on her person -- even her pack had been left at the Corpse in her haste. What little nourishment she'd managed was gleaned from the swart Pygmies that skulked in the great forests below. They were hard to catch and unappetising, and she’d only fed on them to keep her body moving. Now, at the summit, Tene was sitting on a large, flat rock, tattered cloak scrunched by her side, and a longsword in her hands. She turned it this way and that in the harsh light, its reflection searing her vision to a white blindness for long moments, leaving spots of darkness in its wake. The sun itself was starting to burn her skin quite badly, but she was hardly in any frame of mind to care. It wasn't like she would be suffering sunburn tomorrow.
Arysel 's shadow, if it were to be noticed at all, would briefly cover the figure on the peak. Strong beats of snowy wings brings the Avian closer to the mountain in a slow circling decent. Ary's sharp eyesight had caught the familiar figure, and remembering her from the day or so before, Arysel had to wonder why the woman was out in the sun. After all, she'd been anxious to get out of it before. The acrid scent of almost charred flesh drifted up on the drafts caused by the moving see below. Battling the natural penchant for such drafts to carry the woman higher, Ary eventually descends. Instinctively she'd spread a magnificent wing to cover the vampiress, shading her from the brutal sun, "Tenebrae? Why are you out here?" Concern and curiosity laced through the alto tones.
Tenebrae wouldn't see the approaching shadow as a familiar form at all -- not only was she half-blind and moreso half-mad, but had not so many winged acquaintances that she would be expecting anyone. Nor, indeed, did her isolated position lend itself to friendly faces wandering by. So, as the winged woman descended, the vampiress assumed the looming darkness some vast bird of prey and her centuries-honed instincts for survival gripped her fingers to the sword, the weapon half-raised before it dawned on her what she was here for, and let the thing drop back to her lap. Whatever talons or razor beak were coming, she was prepared for them and readied herself for the inevitable by lowering her head, exposing the vulnerable nape of her neck. Easier than sword or sun, by far; it had not the shame of the act she'd contemplated. The shadow deepened, cooling a little the agony of her skin, and the creature landed. Yet no rip of flesh, nor cruel claw came; instead, only a gentle, familiar voice. Tene glanced sharply up, but could not make out Arysel's features at all. Haloed by the sun, with snow-hued wings-- she wondered for a moment whether she'd already died, and this was some merciful angel come to take her to her love. Not that she deserved an angel... The fancy faded, as she tried to pull her mind back to the here and now. This angel had a name... What was it again? Her voice was cracked and hoarse as she spoke it, "A..ary?"
Arysel simply nods, actually quite relieved the blade had been dropped as she takes the last few steps closer. Both wings meet above to block the majority of the sun, shielding the hurt and broken soul before her, "Yes, it's Ary. Tene, what are you doing out here? The sun will kill you."
Which was half of the whole idea, really. But she wasn't going to announce that fact. Instead, Tenebrae pondered how she might firstly encourage the avian to leave, and secondly, to not alert anyone to her position. But her razor-keen mind, already bruised and battered, was now suffering the deprivation of sleep, food and water, as well as the violent heat of the relentless sun. Struggling to find a plan, she failed and sighed. She had not even the strength in her to summon anger, and drive the woman off. Tene simply looked up again, blinking, her features beset with filth and resignation, and said, "I.. was looking for the gods. I got lost. Now I just want to die."
Arysel lets a resigned sigh flow past her lips. Looking at the distance from this small island to the mainland, the avian ponders if she should merely fly Tenebrae home. Maybe, if she could get the taciturn woman into a safe place til the sun set, she could go to her tavern and fetch help. As it was, Arysel didn't feel comfortable leaving her alone for any period of time. Her wings would have to do as shelter for now. "You don't really want to die. What would happen to your clan, or the tavern. I'd planned to audition for you in hopes of playing there. Now, I can't do that if you're dead, can I?" Ary's voice was soft, and she added a bit of a sing-song quality to it. Injecting a few calming notes even as her fingers strummed the lyre that hung innocently at her waist.
Tenebrae shuddered, even though the chill mist usually settled on this high ground had long since lifted in the noontime heat, for whatever time it might do so. Scrunching her eyes hard, as though that would somehow instantly cure her sun-blindness, she would open them to only a slightly more recognisable blur. "I have left the clan. It, and the pub, are in good hands." She hoped. The sweet tones ringing from Arysel's lyre, combined with the avian's gentle voice, however, did gentle the tremors that shivered her skin. "I wanted..." She shook her head. "I --want-- to be at peace. To stop the hurt."
Arysel keeps the soft notes playing, nodding in quiet understanding, "The Gods will give you that peace, all in good time. Until then, there are things here you need to accomplish." A hand is held in invitation, one that offered a bit of peace for the moment, some respite from the hurting. "Let me take you home. Let those who love you care for you." The tone changes now, the lyre humming softly, sleepily, suggesting the sweetest of dreams should one close their eyes.
Tenebrae was falling under the avian's soothing spell, her shaking body lulled, her mind questioning her dire intent, right up to the moment where loved ones were mentioned. Whatever spark of hope might have kindled in her icy and abyssal heart was quenched, her features setting to a stubborn mien that those who knew her well had come to dread. "I know no love. My love is dead." With these few words, spoken curtly, she gripped her sword harder; more a symbol of her replenished resolve than any threat to Arysel. "Everything I wanted to do is being done. And the gods..." her laugh was short, bitter, more of a crow's bark. "They hate me so. I wanted to go see them. Make them give him back..." Wincing, she shifted the topic abruptly. "I will not go. And if you go to tell them where I am, they will find only my corpse."
Arysel merely shrugs and settles down next to her, "Well, no one should die alone then. Though, I'd have to wonder, would your love want to see you do this to yourself?" The shade is kept though, the sun beating down upon her pale skin, not as harshly as it does to Tenebrae, but it's leaving it's mark upon her as well. Ignoring the discomfort, she looks out to the undulating sea. "I've a feeling he maybe wouldn't."
Arysel may as well have struck the vampire with a slap to her cheek, and Tene might have reddened as much, had she the blood in her to raise it. Where her sharp and hair-trigger temper might ordinarily be sparked, she had not the energy to raise that, either. So she looked out to sea, instead, and shook her head. "That he would not." The rogue's features shimmered in her mind-- or was it on the distant sea? she couldn't tell-- and she blinked and blinked, to banish them. When she spoke next, her voice was very small. “He’d tell me I was being an idiot, most likely."
Arysel, nodding sagely, merely waits. A heart beat or two passes before again she speaks, "Let me know when you're ready to go home." An image of her own shimmers on the haze created by the sun trying to dry up the ocean. The cerulean waves crash below, the sound muffled by distance but there, matching the beat that thrummed in her own head. Constantly the music was there. In the wind, in the ground, telling it's secrets. "I will fly you back. It should be quite the experience."
Home. Was there such a thing, anymore? Every house was just four walls, every land merely a stretch of dirt. There was no joy left, in any of it. But a twinge of self-consciousness, that ineffable pride, perhaps, had Tenebrae unwilling to seem so weak in front of such goodness. "Aye." Her eyes had lost their black spots, for the most part, and she glanced sidelong to Arysel. "Just... I need some time. Please, don't tell them where I am?" Her look would be a pleading one, her need for solitude greater than vanity or pride, or any of her prodigal sins.
Arysel nods. She'd not tell them where she was for the simple fact that, strange as it seemed, Arysel felt a sort of protectiveness towards Tenebrae and had no intention of leaving, or at the very least going far. "They'll not learn it from me. Are you hungry?"
Tenebrae was beyond hunger, to the point of starvation in fact. But the woman's question was only an aside to the current one-- of how, exactly, Arysel had coerced Tene out of her death-wish. The vampiress couldn't help admiring her companion's skill. Akin to her own, but put to a kinder use. "I haven't... eaten. In a long time." She raised one dirt-besmirched and sun-ravaged hand, as if to ward the avian off. "Don't wake my hunger.." Arysel was the only blooded creature in reach, after all, but Tene didn’t want to say so out loud, hoping the other would put two and two together.
Arysel darts a stormy grey gaze to the vampire. A twist of her lips renders the warning a moot point. "Your hunger is the least of my worries, M'lady. I was just wondering if it would be safe to carry you to the hut down there so I can rest my wings and you can get out of the sun and heal." If truth be told, Arysel would probably have given a bit of her life for this creature if she'd asked. " I could fly to the mainland and bring you back something if you'd like." This last was said with a bit of reluctance. As unpredictable as Tene seemed to be, Ary'd not like to return to a corpse that didn't move, or a pile of ashes.
Tenebrae studied Arysel's face doubtfully. She knew only too well how the vampire in her took over when her body was depleted. "But then", she said to herself, aloud "if I am having these thoughts, I am not so irrational as all that? Am I?" It may have eluded her that talking to herself wasn't the most hale-minded of things to be doing, and hence her nodding acquiescence. "Alright." Tene doubted the slender female had the strength to carry her downhill, let alone over a wide sea. But she'd humour Ary, for her care, and not without a little self-preserving wish to see whether she might end up dropped into an ocean one of these days.
Arysel let the woman talk it out before standing. Muscles used for flight would be put to a much different purpose today, unless..."Alright..you want to go back, or alright take you to the hut?" A smile hovers around her lips. Turning her head, Ary gauges the distance from the mountain top to the hut her keen eyesight had spotted while aloft.
"The hut would be fine." As it stood, Tene really couldn't see any going back, but at least she was snapped from that terrible act of staring into the void. "Thanks."
Arysel nods and humms softly, a tune that was light and airy, it would wrap around the vampire, rendering her light enough to carry if she couldn't walk, "Can you walk if I shade you? Or would you rather I carry you?"
Tenebrae struggled to her feet, but legs that had been crossed too long, and exposed to the harshest of light for hours, would not support even her own slender weight, not even with the airy spell she didn't know was occurring. "Uh.." Grappling a craggy rock to one side of the pair, she would give Arysel a half-smile that cracked her charred lips to bleeding. "Carry me?"
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-- Sheer Cliff--
However you came here, via the tunnels below or having made repairs to the broken bridge, it’d be best to watch your step-- the pathway drops away in great waterfall of granite to splash far below in the sea of green that melts into one of blue beyond a thin band of gold. Depending on the weather and hour of the day, the view here can be quite impressive as the body of the island lies naked and pure to the eye. Of course, due to the altitude and exposure, the wind here is bitter and violent, threatening to pluck the flippant or frail from the shelf like a withered leaf from a sagging bough. The path itself is deadly and whimsical, streaking across the side of the mountain running east-west, then north-south (or the opposite if travelling from the summit to the jungle); footing is doubtful, the ledge merely a foot and a half wide, and the thin hairs of stone are liable to subsidence.
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Arysel crouches down next to the vampire and winds an arm around her shoulders, another beneath her knees and lifts her, much like she would have a child. With the tips of her wings held aloft, providing yet as much shade as possible, Arysel begins the track down, careful not to stumble on loose stones.
Tenebrae couldn't have spoken, just now, even were she not so utterly worn out. The avian's obvious strength was ... well, inhuman. But she recalled Demont, and his carrying off of a certain very fat town official as though the man were a mere child. Tene closed her damaged eyes, as they passed out of the day's glare into the blessed cool of the shade.
Arysel slows now, edging her way down the ledge. The tap-tap-tapping of her toe finds solid perch before even a step is made. It didn't worry her too much should they fall, after all. Ary could fly. It was Tenebrae's reaction should something like that happen that truly worried the avian.
Tenebrae would apologise later, if she remembered, for the way she buried her raw-skinned face hard into Arysel's shoulder. Not out of any fear of the height, or the ginger way the avian stepped, or even the prospect of being suddenly airborne, she told herself, but to shield what was left of her tender skin from the biting winds that threatened to buffet them over the edge. She'd stay that way until they were clear of the cliff-face.
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--Broken Bridge--
The undergrowth breaks out as the land breaks away to a deep gorge lined by clumps of weed and creeper, where small shelves jut out into the chasm. Numerous trees towards the edge of the drop reach out across the gorge towards their comrades in similar pose, mirrored on the opposite side of the expanse, their roots snaking over the stone that quickly explains its grim facade where soil has lost right of passage. It would appear, however, that the chasm was bridged by creatures intelligent enough to carry out the task, thick scaffolds of wood at either end supporting four thick cables of vine that sag slightly over the endlessness of darkness below. The width of an ogre's bicep, they are certainly sturdy enough to support the weight of all but the most excessive creatures, though the entire structure is raped of ingenuity by the state of disrepair it has been allowed to fall into. Whether those that had seen to its upkeep were now long dead and devoured by the island or had simply moved so far inland they had no need to venture to the beach cannot be known. Regardless, the bridge would be excessively difficult to traverse in current condition, a vast void of the planks that lie lashed atop the bottom vine-twins making it useless for convenient travel.
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Arysel gently shifts the clinging weight of Tenebrae to get a better look at the bridge. Whispering into her ear, Ary says just as gently, "We may have to do a little hop over this. If you have to, hold as tightly as you need to."
"H...hop?" Tene made the mistake of looking down. Shortly after, her face was once more buried in the avian's shoulder. Her assent came as little more than a squeak. "Alright."
Arysel biting back the bubble of laughter that threatened, Arysel crouches, bunching thigh and calf muscles in readiness for the brief leap over the bridge. Springing forth, her grip tightens and those wings flap with great bursts of power, sailing them over the gap and safely onto the other side. "We're across, M'lady." Glancing back over her shoulder, Ary was rather glad that the woman hadn't looked midflight, considering her reaction to the gorge.
Tenebrae 's fingers would no doubt have left some sort of imprint on Arysel's skin that may even be visible on the morrow. But she hadn't looked, and so the horrors of falling would remain the stuff of her secret nightmares for now. "Oh... very good." Unclutching her grip, so far as to venture no further discomfort to her benefactor, Tene cleared her throat a little. "Might do to tuck those wings away. Forest gets dense as we go."
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--Jungle Trail--
The sky is swallowed by a thick sheet of green, the boughs a brown thread stitching the seams together, and the temperature by day soars, by night still considerably warmer than in exposed areas. Beneath the impressive canopy towering above, a rich and esoteric accumulation of life flourishes abundantly; the exotic blossoms of giant flowers coaxing huge and alien insects to deviate from their lazy, or erratic, flights to die within veiled chambers of corrosive bile; loud and colourful birds screaming to one another in shrill notifications across the lattice of heavy vines that threads between the high branches of the trees; large shadows breaking the living-stillness of the undergrowth as foreign beasts hunt within their territory. By night, the jungle is just as alive with the symphony of moonlight or rain, the rattling mating calls of huge beetles harmonising the deep booms of those from large mammals or even reptiles. A hazardous, deadly terrain, death could lie in a single brush against a thorn; a single drop from a toxic vine onto the scalp; the teeth and claws of deadly beast and bird. Though in death, one might find solace in the knowledge their carcass would further the life of the place, armies of insects and nauseating walking-fungi making sure no scrap is wasted beneath the great green eyelid of the world.
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Folding her wings down her back, Arysel moves with simple grace amongst the trees. It was rather difficult to hide the shudder, the rise of panic as the sky was cut off and the trees closed in. Biting her lip instead, Arysel pushes aside the phobia and pushes forward. Grey eyes wide as they dart back and forth, searching out anything that might pose a danger to the woman and her charge.
The forest indeed closed about the women like a great green fist, though room enough between the vasty tree-girths and drapings of vines that it wouldn't be too hard to avoid the various dangers Tene would point out as they travelled to the hut below. It was better, by day-- the chitinous giants that scavenged here for food, the great jungle-cats and ghastly ambulant fungi were all nightwalkers by habit, lessening at least that part of the risk. Still, there was need for caution, and sharp eyes, and she has only the former and would rely on Arysel for the latter. And so they went, uneventfully, until... There was nothing wrong with Tenebrae's ears. A soft crackle sounded, too regular in cadence for a beast's feet. She squeezed the avian's shoulder, whispering in a voice as quiet as mice, "Pygmies." For the first time, the vampiress would truly regret making a meal of their stoic little chieftain, as well as the fact that this race happened to be quite diurnal. And should Arysel glance about to the trees, she might glimpse the glitter of beady eyes, or the slight motion of a blowdart finding its aim.
Arysel was glad to have good hearing. A puff of air, harshly blown to carry the insidious projectile in their direction was warning enough. It didn't miss her entirely, no, it would find a notch to be taken out of a carelessly flung wing, the upper edge would be stained red with the flow of avian blood. Hissing softly with the pain, Arysel darts behind a rather massive tree and lays Tenebrae on the ground. The dappled sunlight muted by the haze of moisture the hovered on the jungle floor. Hopefully that would be enough to protect the vampiress, "I take it they aren't friends of yours." Arysel blinks, her vision blurring and takes a moment to wonder what had been on that dart as she shakes her head to clear it.
Tenebrae shook her head, frowning at the pinking stain on one wing, the white of feathers diluting blood welling from the small wound. "Not really, no." Her brow furrowed deeply. Those darts were used for hunting, not deadly weapons in themselves, but laced with various poisons designed to stun prey out of the taller branches, letting gravity deal the killing blow. "We must get out of here, and quickly." She caught Arysel's slight shake of head, and struggled upward, despite the skin that stretched and split, and the agony of her joints. "I can walk. It's as far down as back up." There was no way she'd let the other take wing, not with whatever-it-was in her bloodstream. Downhill it would be. "We need a distraction...." But even as she spoke, it was as though the gods saw fit to grant her the slightest bit of good fortune, a voluminous roar sounding from down the trail scattering the swart little hunters like leaves in a wind. She'd have said something, then, perhaps enquired as to how the avian was feeling, but there was another roar. And it too, was familiar.
Arysel snaps her eyes open, fighting through the haze to listen to the muffled sound of Tenebrae’s voice. Light glints off golden tresses as she staggers to her feet, trying to think of a distraction with her drug hazed mind. Leaden limbs shuffled forward, intent on following the vampire. Leaves fluttered out of the trees from the resounding roar that came. "Hurry, that sounds big. Just, run, and don't worry about me. I'll be right behind you." Well, she'd at least try to keep that promise as she pushed forward, moving her feet as fast as they would go over the uneven ground. Stumbling a few times only to miraculously catch herself. The wing though, ached constantly with each pounding beat of her heart.
Tenebrae was too slow to stop the drugged avian's scramble for freedom, at least for those first few steps. But even with her skin peeling in strips with the exertion of the dash, blood seeping steadily from the cracks and char there, she was a vampire and thus quicker than most two-legged creatures when it came to motion on the ground. A sun-injured arm shot out, a hand caught Arysel firmly by the arm. "It's alright! Stop, it's alright!"
Tene turned back toward the trail, and shouted, "GOMRAK!"
"Wait, it's alright, Ary. It's just Gomrak. The uh.." Tene smiled to the avian, meekly. "Cannibal orc."
Arysel stops with the instant grab from Tenebrae. It takes a moment for the woman's words to sink in. Glassy eyes stare incredulously, "A cannibal orc? He's going to help?" Confusion reigned in her tone, matching the furrow of a brow.
Tenebrae nodded, keeping her grip for now. "He's only after eating other orcs.. and not entirely by choice." She might explain the shipwreck story the green-skin had told her, another day. "And the odd Pygmy. He's not that bad, otherwise." Arysel might have found reason to disagree, as with a violent crash the creature himself appeared, half as wide at the shoulder as one of the great trees and with a face that had obviously come out the worst in a shark-fight. "Gomrak!" Tene wanted the orc to be very sure he knew it was her. "Some help?" She stepped between the avian and the newcomer, her gaze tilted upward to the massive seafarer. The orc himself scowled down-- less from any ire than this being the sole expression his scarred face might hold -- and grunted a series of guttural words. Tenebrae, apparently no stranger to orcish, turned back toward Arysel and said, "That's his hut down there. Let him carry you. You won't make it, in your state."
Arysel was not entirely sure how it had happened that her rescue attempt had been so turned around, but was grateful nonetheless to be carried by the orc. Even as she nodded her agreement, she'd voice that concern, "What about you?" Swaying, she'd have fallen except for the hold that Tenebrae had on her. It was difficult to disguise the near buckling of her knees as anything other as she raises a hand to catch herself with the trunk of the nearest tree.
The orc would answer her question for her, silently, as Arysel herself was scooped up in one thick arm, care taken not to crush a wing, and Tene under the other. The vampiress' face was dangling beside the seafarer's belt, where hung the giant conch Gomrak had used to frighten the Pygmies away. A concerned glance was thrown to Arysel, but the woman's face was obscured by a fall of golden hair that swayed in time with the big humanoid's steps. They were making rapid progress now. Tene hoped the orc had something left in the washed-up medicine chest she‘d found, to help the drugged avian and her own burns that were starting to throb now, a steady, agonising pulse.
Arysel lets her eyes close with the hypnotic pace the orc kept. Curling into the cradling arm, she'd simply let sleep overtake her. The injured wing twitching every now and again with the steady throb that matched the beat of her heart, Arysel’s breathing kept a slow, steady rhythm.
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-- Whalebone Hut--
At the end of the trail lies another coarse beach; a small, natural clearing containing a large and oddly-constructed hut. Under frond-woven outer walls, the hut is seen to have been fashioned from the ribcage of a long-dead whale. Scattered about almost randomly are trunks, bits of lumber and broken barrels, other sundry items that make it clear these are the remains of a shipwreck. Circling the hut is a grisly spectacle – seven bamboo poles, to the top of which are affixed seven half-fleshed orcish skulls, thick with flies and corpse-beetles. By the cold remains of a fire lie cracked and roasted bones – also orcish. The whole scene reeks of vile savagery. The question is no longer whether the island is occupied, but rather occupied by what, and how many?
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Once Gomrak had reached the grisly bone-shack he called home and ducked his height under the low door frame, Tenebrae was lain down carefully on a rough bunk constructed of flotsam leavings. The remainder of a ship's deck for a base, the bed was arranged hastily via the nudging of one huge, leathery foot. The blankets he shoved on top were rough and torn, and not too clean, nor comfortable on charred flesh. Arysel was a different matter-- he'd glance to Tene, pausing. She chewed gently on her sore lower lip, wondering how, indeed, a woman with wings slept. Finally, she directed that the limp form be lain on her stomach in the tightly-strung hammock that was Gomrak's own resting-place. The orc told her, in his garbled tongue, that the poison was likely to wear off in sleep, but Tene's own wounds would need a salve, for which he must go and collect berries. With that, he scuffed away over the sands, leaving Tene to stare at the avian's sleeping form. This is what it was to be friends with Tenebrae, she wanted to say, as she settled down into the lumpy bed. Danger, and blood. Death shifting shape with every corner turned. If Leo had never met her, maybe...
And then she too, had fallen to a slumber almost as deep as Arysel's own, mercifully dreamless.
Arysel shifted restlessly in her sleep, tucking a hand under a pale cheek. The wings were folded against her body as she turned, wincing in slumber, onto her side and drawing up her knees. Soft, even breathing greeted the quiet from the women.
-- Next Day--
Arysel eases into the hut crafted so cleverly. The clanking of bottles could be heard in the satchel attached to her waist, and, with a wince, Arysel clamps her hand down on the noisy glass. It wouldn't do to wake Tenebrae just yet. The woman needed some sort of sleep, rest, after the ordeal. Though, most things were a bit fuzzy still.
Tenebrae was dreaming of a ship, magnificent of sail, with mahogany decks. Vast black sails billowed in the wind, obscuring her vision of the ship's wheel. Someone was at it.... someone was sailing Eternity again... she couldn't see him, but for a brief glimpse of untidy blond hair...and then the ship's bell sounded, once, twice. Tene blinked her eyes open, but stayed silent a long moment, mind reeling as it adjusted from one reality to the next. "Leo?" She could never fully see him in her dreams, not since he went missing. She propped up to one elbow, ignoring the rip of peeling skin that lay in shreds over every inch of exposed flesh, a glance cast upward to Arysel. "Ello, pet. You better, then?"
Arysel glances up from setting the three bottles she'd managed to procure on the floor next to Tene. Looking back at the injured wing, tinted a light pink at the crest, she'd offer a wry smile and shrug, "I feel alright. I guess I didn't move fast enough, eh?" Gesturing to the three bottles, Arysel would nod, "I went and got these for you. I have to know. What is it with people managing to speak into ones head?" The last was tossed out rather casually as she backed away. There was no telling how hungry the vampire was, and Arysel wanted to be ready to get more of those bottles if they were needed.
Tenebrae grinned, looking about for signs of Gomrak, and found only the sweet-smelling pot of salve beside her makeshift bedding and a large, half-gnawed femur left beside the entrance. Orcs were not known for their housekeeping, at the best of times. She'd smile at Ary's words. "Gotta be quick, to avoid the darts. Pygmies're buggers to hunt, I can tell you." The bottles were examined; realising what they were, she'd drag herself fully upright, manners forgone as she snatched on up, hastily uncorked it with her teeth and guzzled half down in hardly more time than it took the avian to ask her question. "Thanks." was all she'd manage to gasp out before the rest was drunk, as quickly. At least partially quenched, already reaching for the next bottle she quelled the savage hunger that possessed her mind and considered what Ary had asked. "Telepathy. Some have it, most do not. It's a power, to speak without speaking. Mind to mind." Another cork was pulled, spit out. More wine. "I have it. Don't like using it..." She shuddered a little. "Opens you up to the other mind, see? Sometimes it makes a more permanent link..."
Arysel politely turns away as she drinks, wandering about the hut, again fighting to keep the rising panic concealed, "Then, it seems a lot have this gift. My mind has been spoken to quite often lately. It's a bit disconcerting to say the least." Reminding herself repeatedly that the walls really weren't moving, Arysel nonetheless inches closer to the entrance. "Is this something one can learn?"
Tenebrae slugged down the last bottle, her eyes gleaming in the semi-dark. An errant trickle was wiped from her chin with the crook of a finger, and she'd study Ary intently all the while. The woman seemed quite perturbed. "I'd say you've already got it in spades." She nodded, were Arysel to look at all incredulous. "Have to, to be hearing everyone like that." The bottle was set beside the other empties, a slight chagrin crossing the vampire's features as she did so. Looking back to the avian, she frowned. "So, it's less a matter of learning it than controlling it. You can shut the others out. I'd have gone mad long ago, if I hadn't figured out how."
Arysel frowns, the corners of her mouth turned down sharply as she looks at Tenebrae, "I've never heard others speaking in my head until I came here. I'm not all together sure I like it." Here, she'd think, pausing a moment, "Well, except for a couple of them." Standing now, next to the crude doorway, Ary relaxes. Having an avenue of escape, even if it was just in her head, calmed her greatly. The walls had stopped shrinking and again, there was air to be had. And in fact it was drawn deeply into her lungs and expelled slowly. "Are you ready to leave yet?"
Tenebrae chewed her lip. "Strange..." She wondered whether others of Arysel's kind had mind-speak, and how it was that the woman was so sensitive here. Her stomach growled. "We shall figure it out. If you like, I will teach you how to use.. or develop this skill. Even if just to stop the noise." She'd leave the option hanging, for now. The avian's obvious discomfort within the hut had her brow knit again. But she'd only reply to Ary's last question, "No, pet. I'm not going back." She added, hastily, "And don't worry, I'm not doing anything to... you know. But my people are best off without me, I think. My company..." She'd nod toward the injured wing. "I'm not what you'd call blessed with luck." Indeed, all her luck had vanished, as though he'd never been. "So I'll be staying here."
Arysel blinks..and blinks again. It was unbelievable, the arrogance of this woman. To think her people could do without her. "Tenebrae, my injury was my own fault. Not yours. How do you know your people are better?" Huffing a breath, forgetting for a moment the panic as she pushed away from the door. "Luck..what is this luck? It's what you make it. By choices." Why was she antagonizing this woman, someone Ary hoped to work for. Biting her lip, and her tongue, she turns away. The quivering of her wings really the only sign of the anger she kept bottled up. When they finally calmed, smooth and unruffled as usual, Arysel would turn. Calm grey the order of the day for the eyes that sought out Tenebrae, "You don't know how lucky you are to have people that need you. To have ..felt that kind of devotion from even one person. And you will throw it away."
Tenebrae had long ago blanked her ability to perceive every thought cast her way, but she had a centuries-old predator's skill at picking up the most minute signals cast by the body, as to what the subject -- or victim -- of her scrutiny was thinking. Dismay would spread across Tene's features, even before the avian's words confirmed her anger. That she would so ruffle this gentle spirit was only further proof of the vampiress' cursedness, in her own mind. Once more, Ary might see that adamantine cast of stubbornness tighten her companion's jaw. "There's always more to things than meets the eye." She paused, swallowed the grit in her tone. "Look, I come with baggage. Dangerous stuff, harmful. I have to..." She had just decided. "Deal with that, before I think about coming back. I just need some time." A tiny smile, intended to be reassuring.
Arysel snorts out a laugh, "M'lady, you are lucky, more than you think. But if I can't change your mind, what say I bring someone who might? I could hang out at your tavern and act the mad woman, demanding someone who is in charge come and drag your stubborn self out of here." Shaking her head, Arysel merely takes her place by the safety of the door once more, sliding down to sit with her back against the wall. "No, no I won't do that. I promised that I'd not tell a soul you were here, and I won't. I've never broken a promise. I won't start now, even if it would be for your own good." Leaning her head back, Ary closes her eyes with a soft sigh. "Well, you're stuck with me then I suppose. Who else is going to bring you sustenance. Of course, you could always take what you needed from me if you'd like. Something I am rather glad you haven't done yet."
Tenebrae's expression would shift from genial, at the other woman's humour, to abruptly chilly. "I will not feed from you." Hardwired in her now was the demand of her spirit to deny her hungering flesh the blood of friends. She softened a little, then. "Though, I thankyou for the offer. But I have the Pygmies. Gomrak will hunt them for me until I am stronger." A small wince. "I'm immune to their monkey-poison, mostly. But..." She managed another smile. "If you could see your way to bringing me a bottle now and then, I'd be very grateful." More for the company than the blood, really. "And thanks, for not telling anyone where I am."
Arysel cracks open an eye, just enough so her sight wasn’t blurred by the lashes that swept over her checks, "Well, if you are ever in need, the offer stands." Looking towards the already empty bottles, a nod is given, "How many? Those little runts can't be very appetizing and at least you can be comfortable while you heal." Emotionally, as well as physically, Ary thinks to herself. "As for not telling, well, no one has asked. Of course, I am perfect to keep this secret, yes? No one knows I know you, nor that you know me. I'm just the strange avian singer who buys blood wine for an imaginary friend."
Tenebrae snickered softly. "No-one would notice yet another eccentric in the lands.." She thought about the offer of bottles, her pride already flaring. "Just three, when you come to visit." Her lips pursed a moment. "I have no gold here to pay you with. But I will find something for recompense." She gave Ary a stern look that would forbid argument on that point, which softened somewhat on the realisation: "You look tired, pet."
Arysel clears her throat and pushes away the new bit of music that was tempting her play again. " Three bottles. I can do that, with no worries about repayment. I just ask for the chance to audition for you when you decide to go back." Tired..maybe, it seemed Arysel always felt tired these days. Of course, finding somewhere to sleep was a different story. "Maybe a little. I don't sleep well. Not when there are so many songs clamouring to be heard."
Tenebrae's eyed widened a little, with interest. "Music... in your mind? Like the voices?" That was a new one on her. "And consider yourself auditioned and hired, pet. See Isen or Terra if you'd like work..." She frowned. "Of course you'd have to audition all over, they can't know..." Things were so complex. She really had no intention of returning to the pub. Tene couldn't help looking exasperated. But amused, with it. The avian was a wily one, indeed.
Arysel merely smiles an enigmatic smile. "I will only audition for you. I met Isen and don't think I'd like to audition for him. He is one who makes me uneasy." Waving a hand languidly, she'd answer the first questions now, "No, not like the voices. The music is always there, a symphony just waiting to come to life. To be heard."
Tenebrae grinned at the mention of Isen, rolling her eyes minutely at Ary's stubbornness-- quite on par with her own, it seemed. The latter comment had her sitting up now, sheets of healing skin flaking from her limbs, the process speeded somewhat by rest and replenishment. "So... You hear music, all the time? Like, how, exactly?" She'd glance to the lyre. "Is this what you play, on your... thing there?"
Arysel nods, "Mmhmm. I hear it, in my head. I can sometimes see the notes dancing behind my eyes if I concentrate." A hand strays to the instrument, patting the lyre lovingly before caressing the hushed strings. " I've had this since I was a child. I have never been apart from my lyre. I made it. I put blood, sweat and tears into making it perfect." Taking it from the loop, Ary leans forward, handing the beloved instrument to the woman, letting her inspect the workmanship. Every mark of the chisel was visible from the crafting of the frame. The deeper crimson of the cherry stain would be where the chisel had slipped, nicking small fingers. The scares were still there, though faded and covered with the calluses of long hours playing. "Music is everywhere if you listen. It's on the wind, in the earth, the crash of waves and the minutest sounds from the tiniest creature. I hear it all."
Tenebrae was slightly taken aback to be allowed to hold the instrument, so precious to its maker. Perfect indeed. Though Tene had no knowledge of lyres or how they were made, she could hear its perfection in the clear, sweet notes it sang when touched, and how the balance of it, in much the same way as an exceptional weapon, seemed to make it a natural extension of her hand. The bloodstains did not go unnoticed. Yes, much like a weapon. They needed to be blooded, too, to come to life. "It's lovely." She felt her words to be the grossest understatement. "You are blessed, to hear such beauty around you." Tenebrae offered the lyre back, with infinite care.
Arysel smiles rather proudly and takes back the lyre, settling it once more upon her hip. "I like to think so. It's amazing, the power a song can have. The right combination of notes can bring about the most unexpected results. Everything from tears of sorrow, laughter, joy, even love. Memories too can be brought forth with a song. Something you hadn't thought you knew perhaps, or a memory long buried and brought out again like a long lost friend to warm and cheer you."
Or to rend your soul apart, was Tene's extension of the avian's words. The very idea of having her memories raised like long-dead, monstrous corpses made her shiver. "Well, that's wonderful!" The cheery tone might mask her discomfort, none of it showing in her face. "Quite the skill you have there." She changed the topic. "So... do all of your kind have this ability? I don't recall Demont being particularly musical, but I'd hazard a guess that he's not the most typical of your race, being how he is."
Arysel , for the first time becomes nearly still. Clearing her throat a few more times, she'd drop her otherwise forthright gaze to the ground, "No. Not all of my people are musically gifted. And M'lord Demont is very much not like any of us." Something soft and warm creeps into her voice, something that hints at deeper feelings. Feelings that Ary would never admit to herself out loud anyway. "No, he's definitely not like anyone I have ever met."
Tenebrae's peridot-hued eyes narrowed slightly, the avian's body betraying feelings as surely as anything a thought-reader could discern. But thoughts expressed in the body alone are things deeply hidden, either by will or denial. Whichever case this was, Tene had just gained the knowledge that Demont was very special indeed to this woman. She'd keep that to herself, of course, and grin. "Me, neither. Strange bird he is." Pink fingers, bright with new skin as yet to pale, were pressed over her lips, the vampiress' eyes twinkling. "Oh. I didn't mean to sound insulting to your people or anyth..." Her apology would be cut short, by sound of heavy steps approaching. Tene glanced to the rustic doorway in time to see Gomrak's great, scarred head enter, the orc almost bent double to gain entrance to his makeshift home. Under one arm lolled the body of a Pygmy. The tiny man was stirring faintly, and as he groaned a row teeth filed to points flashed white.
"Food." The orc's voice boomed through the confined space as he threw the captive to Tene's feet. Arysel was given a red-eyed glace and a nod before the massive man backed out again. In the ensuing silence, Tenebrae would look at the victim and then to Arysel. Not a pretty sight, watching a vampire feed from a, living source. Particularly one she didn't much care for. "Uh... please... don't think I'm being rude." She bit her lip. "Again."
Arysel would politely avert her gaze, "No, I'm not insulted. Birds are beautiful creatures. I think they almost enjoying flying as much as I do." The distinctive sound of the vampire feeding doesn't quite make her squirm, but nearly. A few furtive glances are cast from the corner of her eye, checking occasionally, subtly, to discern when the vampire was done. " I thought about trying to make one my pet, but it didn't seem right to hinder such freedom."
Tenebrae would turn away a bit, the body dragged with her, sparing Arysel the worst of it as she chewed at the throat and drained the small being of its vitality. It didn't take long. Soon the husk was dropped to the floor, the vampiress covering it with one of the rough blankets from her bed, for the time being. Licking her lips, eyes still bright with a predatorily sheen, she'd look again to Ary. "Bird, you say?" She thought of the few parrots she'd made acquaintance with, and her lip curled in disgust. "Can't say I blame you for not wanting one. Having a familiar does make time less lonely, though." She thought of Maladroit fondly, wondered how the hideous little goblin was holding up without her. He'd have been free of their bond, on her death. Tene would make sure to needle him with the knowledge of how close he'd come to liberty. "Even if they can be troublesome at times." A hand was raised, to cover a yawn.
Arysel turns at the sound of a body thumping onto the floor, "Maybe five bottles instead of three." A bland look is passed over the corpse..of the pygmy that is. It was hard to feel bad about a people who had tried to kill you.
Tenebrae was sated, pain fading steadily as her body went to work repairing the sun-damage and other injuries sustained on her gruelling journey. Snuggling under the coarse cloth of a blanket, she nodded sleepily. "Five... " Ice-green eyes would close, then, the vampiress' form taking on a serenity that would be troubled only later, under a dreamed moon, where mismatched eyes would glow from out the shadows, green and feral orange.
Arysel takes note of the stillness that comes over Tenebrae. Pushing with her feet, she'd stand, making a hasty exit from the small, tiny hut. Taking great, huge gulps of the heavy, salted air, Arysel spreads out her wings to stretch them before taking flight. Back to that city of rubble and grey dust.