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 Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2009 8:56 am
"Rise and shine, Shamáki." It was damp. And cold. The chilly air woke the gypsy abruptly, and when he opened his eyes he could tell the room should have been shrouded in darkness. It should have been, at least to any average human mortal. But as his sight adjusted, Shami's black pupils slowly dissipated into the magenta rimming them, causing his indigo irises to stand out against the now-magenta pupils. He suddenly realized he could see rather sufficiently for the lack of light in the room. He knew that a genuine dark elf, living underground as they did, would have been able to see perfectly well. While his sight wasn't more than a few feet radius, but it was better than nothing. Despite his contempt toward the elven race, being a quarter elvish did have its advantages. Even if they were the advantages of a drow.
"Unh...my head..." It felt as if someone had hung him upside down for hours and the blood was still rushing back into the rest of his body. Putting his hand up to rub his throbbing temples, the young man took notice of the thick, heavy iron shackles that were attached to his wrists. Staring at them a moment in disbelief, he let his hand drop, leaning his head back against what he thought he felt was a slightly slimy wall. Not that prisoners were usually given the best prisons. "Great. I don't even remember getting caught," he thought out loud. But instinctively he put a hand to his mouth when he heard the clinking of chains in the cell next to him and remembered he thought he'd heard voices earlier. So, he wasn't alone after all.
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Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2009 9:21 am
Knowing the gypsy would have found it suspicious if his fellow prisoner was free of the shackles that bound him, Shadow quickly phased his free hands back through the manacles before solidifying them once more. With his ghost-type abilities allowing him to take on the illusion of his human self, the haunter-morph pretended to be testing the strength of the chains when Shami looked over.
"Finally. You've been out for so long, I thought you might have been dead," the boy of 16 commented. "You were already here when I arrived, so I wouldn't know. Sorry." The gypsy seemed older somehow, definatly taller, but Shadow knew his body was still almost as young as his was. Then again, if what he'd suspected was true about Shami, then it was to be expected. The medieval ages usually addressed teenagers as adults. No one had lived much longer after.
Did his eyes just change? That was really odd. And here Shadow had come to think that scientific experimention was the only thing that could change humans. Shamaki certainly didn't seem much more out of the ordinary, except for his dark purple hair of course, but it was almost certain he knew nothing of science. The Dark Ages had likely been named with reference to the darkness of ignorance, after all. Being kept in the dark was something Shadow was quite familiar with, and he thought it might have been cruel to try and enlighten the gypsy with more than he was prepared to know. At the moment he had enough to deal with mentally. They all did.
"You're not 'magical' too, are you?" the street kid asked, his coat and dark jeans tattered and dirty from much travel and wear. It wasn't hard to tell they were the only garments he had owned for a very, very long time. "Your eyes just changed color. They're sorta...glowing in the dark. Pink-reddish."
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Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2009 9:50 am
"You'd know something about being dead, wouldn't you, Darrow?" Puck couldn't help interjecting, grinning at the scowl he earned from the Native American boy. It was amusing to see the irritation and impatience of a hundred-year-old man on the adolescent young features of a 16-year old kid. But Shawn knew better than to feed the fairy's amusement and returned his attention to Shami, doing his best to ignore Puck.
Oh well, it was worth a try, the white-haired being decided with a smile, watching the ghost commence his little game of playing human with the gypsy. He was pretty good at it too. Puck had been betting he wouldn't have remembered to put his shackled back on.
If only he too could have so easily slipped them on and off. He knew the mass of iron links that bound him was so obvious in comparison to the single-chain manacles of the other two that Shami was sure to ask about him. Or at least suspect him of some dangerous, unspeakable crime. Might as well try to be friendly. The poor gypsy theif was sure to be horrified once he got a full grasp of where he was and who he was with. Likely why Shadow was trying to pretend for Shami's sake.
He couldn't shapeshift, not with iron chains constricting him so tight he could hardly move. But at least as helpless as he was, there was less reason for him to cause fear or suspicion. "Heh...so what're you in for, Oro? Charming another villiage girl? 'Borrowing' food from the market?" By what he'd said, Puck guessed Shami assumed he was in some medieval village's jail cell for criminals and rogues.
"He's not all that magical, actually," he spoke in reply to Shawn's question. "Just a genetic trait inherited from the blood of an underground race. They're actually resistant to magic, and their eyes turn red when they see in the dark," he explained. "But only his pupils turned magenta because he's only a fourth elf." Oops. Had he said too much?
"At least that's what all the Wanted posters mentioned. Ow!"
The fairy felt himself propelled forward to bang his head against iron bars. it had been happening quite frequently as of late, actually. So frequently, in fact, that Shadow had taken pity on him and stopped adding to his pain. Now whoever had been calling his name had to have been on the outside. Their voices were faint and must have been scattered, because he had been flung every which way already by the invisible force that empowered his true name.
"Ow! Lord! How often are they going to keep doing that?!" Still, he thought. At least I know they're looking for me...I just wish they'd hurry up.
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