|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sat Oct 12, 2013 10:08 pm
The tournament was drawing to a close, skies still threatening a storm on a whim, wind rustling the grass in small bursts. On its own, the competition had been largely uneventful for Mimsy - she had not fought past the first round, and the greatest amount of effort she had put forth thus far had gone towards figuring out how to comfort and encourage another human being. It was harder than it looked. When her attention had not been claimed by the more pressing matters that were physically in front of her, she had been carefully working through the problem of Lucky, who was making his position very clear. If he wanted to push, she could shove back. That much was simple, but determining the best timing, best place, best things to say... this was the more serious competition, and losing this game did not present itself with the same appeal that losing the tournament had. She needed to be prepared, and put every extra second into piecing together the best way to approach this. As expected, he was not far from the grounds of the tournament when she found him. He was alone, to her benefit, and she tried to retain her composure as she stomped through the windswept grass towards him. "Good afternoon, Szczeosny," she greeted him, patting his shoulder. "Has the wind taken your scarf? You should be more careful! Then again, you always were the clumsiest member of our family - I should not have expected anything else." It was difficult, but she smiled, and it was filled with clenched teeth and bitterness. "Ah, I digress...I was curious: did you have something that you wanted to ask me?" She stood stiffly, but purposely patient, allowing him time to save himself.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Oct 12, 2013 11:48 pm
Lucky had gone out of his way to be alone, choosing a spot he had expected few people to bother passing by when the tournament was so much more interesting. He was scribbling furiously in a notebook, pausing every so often to offer a silent reply in a conversation only he could hear. It was why he did not hear Mimsy approach, even as she trampled her way through the grass to touch him on the shoulder. She was using his name, his real name. She never used his real name. He practically jumped, and when he looked up he felt he had good reason to do so anyway.
< Don't give her the satisfaction, > Song advised with the barest hint of a growl in her otherwise level voice.
At her slightly too-friendly observation, Lucky reflexively reached up toward his neck, where there was no scarf to grasp. In his distraction, he'd almost forgotten; he'd given it away much earlier in the day. To-
Oh.
He felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. He couldn't stop himself from flashing a knowing look in her direction. She knew.
Lucky set down the notebook and pen gently in the grass, as if to make a show of taking his time. He didn't like the way she was standing over him. His thoughts moved in a rush to pull the meaning from her words, and then deftly avoid it. Begging for her permission was the coward's way out. He refused to see himself as a coward. Not as long as Song encouraged him otherwise.
"Oh, nothing important." He was glancing up at her with a patient smile, but it was fake, much like hers. Little hints, cracks in the illusion here and there of something off behind his eyes, and at the corners of his mouth; the look of a rabbit or a deer as a predator approached. He remained still. "Did you enjoy the tournament?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Nothing Yet rolled 2 10-sided dice:
8, 1
Total: 9 (2-20)
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Oct 13, 2013 11:39 pm
Nothing important.The smile twitched and faltered, and Mimsy tightened her fists in irritation, taking one deep breath before she opened her mouth to respond to him. It did nothing to hide the frustration in her voice. "It was enjoyable to spectate. Robert did fairly well - but you know that, don't you?" She extended the fingers of her left hand and closed them around her summoned weapon, knuckles already white against the grip. "I thought that I made myself clear. This was not a victory for you. This is outside the bounds of our game. Why are you so persistently involving yourself with him? I explained. I offered you an option that you declined. I assumed that would be the end of it." He had proved her wrong, and she despised admitting as much. It sickened her to think that she had so easily allowed him to do so. "Get up," she commanded, roughly tapping his chin up with the tip of her sword. "Or don't. This is the last option that I will present to you, but you are welcome to very literally take this sitting down, if you prefer." HP: 50 DMG: 3
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Molten Tigrex rolled 2 10-sided dice:
2, 10
Total: 12 (2-20)
|
Posted: Sun Oct 13, 2013 11:41 pm
"I am not using him as guinea pig, if that is vhat you imply." He seemed content with his logic. "You say yourself there is no - vhat you call it? - oh, yes 'affectionate involvement'. So, I am free to talk to him. Any vay I choose to. If it is such problem maybe you should keep him in a containment room like other research specimens."
It took every bit of self-control he had to resist summoning Song the moment he saw Svensyl appear in her hand. Even now she was begging, pleading to sink her teeth into the twisted monster standing before him. He saw two images overlaid into one, conflicting, cancelling each other out. A friend and an enemy. A dangerous combination to overlook. But he wasn't going to let himself worry like Song did.
Because Mimsy wasn't really going to --
It was a moment of willful weakness. In shock, his fingers found themselves clasped around the organic warp of a horn handle before he could so much as blink.
Mimsy's blade made a distinct crackling sensation against his fear shield. If he had been normal, the tip of her sword would easily have pierced his jugular. He grimaced, breaking the shoddy illusion of his own pleasantness. This wasn't what he wanted.
At her threat, he finally rose to his feet, if only to spare himself the humiliation of not even fighting back. The runes on Song flared unusually bright, icy blue in Mimsy's presence. Lucky ran a hand along the length of the sawblade, as if trying to calm his weapon. They dimmed, just barely, at the touch of his fingers. He sounded... sad. Or maybe just confused. "This is not like you..."
Out of options, he whirled Song in a slashing motion.
DMG: 6
CHARGE: 1/3
HP: 47/50
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Nothing Yet rolled 2 10-sided dice:
2, 10
Total: 12 (2-20)
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 14, 2013 12:50 am
It was impossible for Mimsy to avoid rolling her eyes at his feeble attempts to dissuade her.
"Really, Lucky. We are both scientists. I stated that you could ask me if you wished to be involved - this is involvement. I know that you are intelligent enough to be aware of that. I am far too intelligent to believe your bullshit. Any application of stimulus can cause a shift in the results. Thus, you are not allowed to talk to him without asking. You are never allowed to talk to him 'any way you choose to' without consulting the abstract for this project. This is an extremely crucial experiment, not an...I'm not..."
She wanted to use her own fingers to tear through his shield until there was flesh and blood beneath her fingernails, but he proved that he accepted her challenge by attacking first. Song was swung towards her, and she tried to prevent her from touching her; but Svensyl was much smaller now, and adjustments had not yet been made to this newfound lack of support. The teeth of the saw grazed the shield on her arm, and she scowled at her as she swung back, as if she could somehow see it.
"I assure you, if I could keep him in containment, away from people who are so incredibly determined to skew my results, I would," she scoffed, stance guarded. "There are two significant problems with that, however: the current lack of power makes that a troublesome task, and I am not attempting to study Stockholm syndrome or any of its variants."
Svensyl was lowered to her side, and she watched him with a shaky stare.
"And you are not the Lucky that I remember. We have either lost or found ourselves somewhere between those two points. But you will always be my brother. Surely you can also find comfort in that." Could he? She smiled her crooked smile and waited.
HP: 44
DMG: 6
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Molten Tigrex rolled 2 10-sided dice:
4, 10
Total: 14 (2-20)
|
Posted: Mon Oct 14, 2013 12:52 am
"Not vhat?" Mimsy's blade slashed an arc of disruption through his shield, sending him backward step by step with every stab and strike. Even as he fought, he gained no ground, his every movement precision over aggression. Song seemed exhilarated by the fight in every way Lucky wasn't, whispering for him to strike harder, cut deeper, and show her that she had no authority to tell him what to do. For one long moment everything felt incredibly distant; her hunger for violence translated to him in the form of empty eyes and a small, guttural growl in place of words as he struck next.
"Could have fooled me," he mumbled, bringing the sawblade up to cross over his chest.
But maybe the fight was over already. She stopped, and so did he, cautiously. She appealed to him and he wavered, and the wendigo picked up on it instantly. The saw lowered a little in midair, and then another notch, and another. Song's voice, calm and comforting, became sharp, like so many knives being dragged through the continuity of his thoughts. Ignore her It was hard to imagine Mimsy that b***h could feel that way when she had been so quick to draw her weapon against him do not be fooled but maybe it was a good sign, maybe it was a sign she cared remember what she did if not about him, then at the very least someone else or did you forget It was a start but after all you've seen, I refuse to let you be so weak Maybe they had both changed listen to me maybe both for the better I'm warning you or at the very least not entirely for the worse she'll hurt you again, and you'll be sorry Missing the sight of her wicked smile, he closed his eyes for one long moment and pressed his fingers to his temple as if assuaging a headache liar liar liar LIAR LIAR LIAR-- but he sounded sincere. "Of course."
DMG: 8
CHARGE: 2/3
HP: 41/50
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Nothing Yet rolled 2 10-sided dice:
10, 6
Total: 16 (2-20)
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 14, 2013 1:41 am
"Good." There was enough surprise in Mimsy's voice to be evident through just one word. That was not the answer she anticipated, but this was far better than being right. Just this once. "I hoped so. We are better together than apart."
Distance gave Song plenty of room to play with.
So she took it away, if only in the literal sense, stepping as close to him as she could safely manage. Her eyes met his, and there was a panic beyond the chill, her gaze flickering with unsteady denial. She couldn't let his accusations and implications go so easily, after they'd attached themselves to the greatest point of doubt. They gnawed at her skin and stung where they broke the surface.
"Why?" It sounded as if she was having trouble speaking. "You maintain that I must have feelings for him, while I maintain that this is strictly scientific. You know me. Which of the two is more characteristic of my behavior?"
She took a step back, glancing at the hand that held the bonesaw.
"If you truly know something, can see something that I cannot, why will you not explain it? Why do you try to hold it above me instead? That is indicative of a cruelty that none of your previous actions displayed. Unless--"
Svensyl was lifted again, and she tried to strike the wrist that bore the weight of his weapon, hoping to knock her away from him. Recollections of shattering Balthazar's existence resurfaced with a wistful longing.
"You are better than that," she hissed. "You are capable of much more. You shouldn't have to resort to such simple tactics, especially considering the circumstances. You do not have to turn low-hanging fruit into a dangling carrot."
Her eyes narrowed.
"And you know it."
HP: 36
DMG: 10
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Molten Tigrex rolled 2 10-sided dice:
5, 9
Total: 14 (2-20)
|
Posted: Mon Oct 14, 2013 2:47 am
It seemed too good to be true. That was the first sign something was wrong. But it was human nature to question it, if only for a moment. That maybe he'd been so afraid for nothing.
Horror crept up his spine, pushed him back another step. The Mimsy he'd delighted in tormenting was cruel and vicious herself. Everything down to the fear in her eyes now sent the opposite message. How long had he been wrong about her? For the first time in a long time, he felt clarity returning to his eyes, but removed from his thoughts. Anger was one thing, anger he could work with, but disappointment was something else entirely. "I - I do not-"
Mimsy slammed the blade into his wrist and for one too-long moment he braced himself for injury. The sharp edge moved through him like water, flaring invisibly through the weakening fear shield. She hadn't disarmed him, but he nearly dropped his weapon in surprise anyway, parrying weakly before he pulled back into a defensive position.
< Unbelievable. Pull yourself together, Szczeosny, > Song snapped, her patience wearing thin as she watched and hungered. If she didn't do something fast, all of her delicate handiwork would crumple like so much paper. She simply couldn't allow it... It was time to take drastic measures. Mimsy wasn't the only one with a hunter on a short leash. < There's no point in repeating myself if you're not going to listen to me when it matters - but we'll discuss this later. As usual, I have to do everything myself. Shh, shh. I'll handle this, darling. Don't ask questions, don't think, don't give her any chance to poison you further; just tell her this for me... >
"You're right. I am capable of so much more."
There was something off about the way he was talking. No inflection, no variation in tone.
"You're afraid," the hopeless monotone continued, in direct contrast to his expression of worry. Slow, hollow, an echo of something unheard, like he was reading from a script without comprehending the meaning of what he was saying. Translating her words for Lucky first would only slow this process down, she reassured him. He didn't need to know. And, weakly, he seemed to accept her reasoning. It absolved him of responsibility. "You're afraid it's only an experiment after all, for him. That if you let go even for a moment, he'll break free of your grasp forever. He'll find someone else, smarter, or prettier, or kinder than you could ever hope to be. Maybe he kept that scarf for more than friendship. Maybe he's only been pretending out of pity for you, the girl with the heart of ice that finally thawed too late. Look at you; the possibility of losing him makes you so angry, you can hardly think. It's why you're here now, isn't it?"
"Did you really believe no one would notice? The intricacies of the heart are kind of my specialty, Mimsy. And you can fool yourself all you like, but you can't hide this kind of desperation from your own brother." Song's bluff had already been called; there was no point in hiding her involvement. If anything, she should be flattered that her opponent acknowledged her. But as far as Song cared, Mimsy could dig her ugly little claws into anyone else on this island; this hunter belonged to Song. "Even he can read you like an open book."
Satisfied, the wendigo went silent in his head, leaving him alone to deal with the aftermath of his moment of cowardice.
DMG: 8
CHARGE: 3/3
HP: 31/50
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Nothing Yet rolled 8 4-sided dice:
4, 4, 3, 1, 1, 1, 3, 2
Total: 19 (8-32)
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 14, 2013 8:59 pm
It was strange to hear Lucky admit that he agreed with her, and Mimsy found herself surprised by him for a second time. Why would he have opted to question the legitimacy of her claims if he believed that? She took a step back, face streaked with confusion--
Then she knew.
She was now miserably aware of the fact that she could no longer tell where Lucky ended and Song began, especially when the words came out of his mouth, spoken in his own voice, albeit more listless than usual. It was hard to believe that he didn't believe this things, because it was ultimately his choice to make them heard, and no contrast of statements to expressions could sway her from thinking otherwise. Actions never spoke louder than words.
Another step backwards found her on shaky footing, limbs aching with weakness, fingers fighting to remain curled around her weapon.
"No," she spat, head held high. This was her victory to claim, not Song's, not Lucky's. "I am not afraid. I am well aware that his affection is legitimate, even if mine is not. I have seen how far he will go to prove that he cares. I know that I am in no danger of losing him in the middle of this. I know because..."
s**t.
Because for one year, she watched and waited and recorded useful information. She formed a list of candidates and narrowed them down, one by one, until the most viable remained. She carefully performed preliminary tests to confirm that her assessment was correct.
All to be sure that she had found someone who wouldn't leave her.
A strangled sound of disbelief broke the silence that should have been filled with more of her confident explanations. But Song - or Lucky - was right, even if the timing of the claim was off. She may not have been concerned about the possibility of those events now, but she certainly had been. It made it easy to settle into that worry again, now that she'd been reminded.
"This is not your specialty." Svensyl's eyes were glowing brightly as she pointed the weapon towards him, steadfast and accusatory. "You have no understanding of what is happening, no knowledge of scientific processes, no grounds to say those things. This is not desperation."
Svensyl eagerly hummed an unrecognizable tune in anticipation. She didn't keep him waiting, and halted her argument to lunge forward and strike and slash and stab until the charge wore down and her her body felt weary in protests. Her breaths were drawn rapid and ragged as she pulled the sword away again, stopping only to allow herself a brief moment of recovery.
"Maybe you did notice. Maybe you can read me." She jabbed at his chest with the end of the sword. "I don't doubt your ability to observe or analyze. But she is not my brother. She is the envious little parasite that has to settle for easy victories."
She looked from his eyes, to his weapon, then back again.
"That is indicative of cowardice. I am not afraid, because one way or another, I will fight, and I will win. In case you felt differently, I feel the need to notify you: I will not be an easy victory."
There was enough anger in her eyes to hide the lack of conviction that she felt, fortunately. She could concede a victory to Lucky, but would never allow herself to give Song the satisfaction of knowing she had won.
HP: 28
DMG: 15
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Molten Tigrex rolled 2 10-sided dice:
9, 5
Total: 14 (2-20)
|
Posted: Mon Oct 14, 2013 9:20 pm
Whatever Song had told him to say had certainly had an effect.
"I understand enough-" The emphasis had returned to his voice after its brief departure. Lucky looked and sounded more like himself. He looked wistful now. Whatever he had thought he had seen in her eyes, heard in her voice, was gone again. Just the ghost of a memory of a time and a place they couldn't return to. Maybe she could flip it on and off like a lightswitch. Maybe Song had been right. Maybe it had all been a ploy to get him to revert back to how he'd been before. It had almost worked. But only because he had made a mistake. He should have known better. He knew what she was, what she was capable of. Now he remembered her convincing him to abandon his loyalty for knowledge, the price of which was a feeling of distrust he could never quite shake and a permanent brand on the back of his right hand. She was plunging Svensyl through his chest in the midst of a battle, radiating insanity. She was laughing and covered in Clerise's blood as she turned to him in the midst of a crisis. He'd been willing to overlook it all in the hope that she had changed. How naive.
< Parasite? > Song sounded vaguely annoyed at the insinuation. But unlike even moments ago, she seemed to be in a far better mood. She had gotten exactly what she wanted. The wendigo seemed relatively uninterested in pushing any more buttons and simply flickered her runes at Mimsy's glare as if winking back.
Lucky was still reeling from the speed of her attacks as she drew away again. The hand that held Song was visibly shaking. He could lay down his weapon now and let her win, but if he'd planned to lose so easily he could have done so from the start. She was right. He was better than that. He needed to beat her at her own game. The hunter stood his ground.
Song made a curious noise. < Are you going to let her talk to you that way, darling? >
"If this is about vhat I think, I have no interest of that kind in Robert," Lucky coughed as she prodded him. His eyes followed her movements carefully as she made a blatant hint toward his weapon, offering little if any meaningful reaction to the gesture save to look away sharply by the second time she met his gaze. It was far too late to choose differently. "He is useful tool in many vays, but he is... not my type."
"Ah, I vould not expect anything less from you." A distant, empty half-smile returned to his face as he hefted Song for another strike.
DMG: 8
CHARGE: 3/3
HP: 16/50
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Nothing Yet rolled 2 10-sided dice:
9, 6
Total: 15 (2-20)
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 15, 2013 2:10 am
"What?" Mimsy's voice was hoarse, and she nearly dropped her weapon in the wake of her attempt to parry, fumbling to keep it in her hand. "No, I...no."
That was not what she'd said, was it? She nudged her glasses up to rub at her eyes, feeling feverish as she tried to remember her words, skin hot and prickling with goosebumps. Maybe he really had noticed something on his own. Or maybe it was an attempt at attacking the same point of weakness from a different angle.
"This is about your failure to ask me before involving yourself with him again. I am not well-versed in friendship, but I am still aware your actions towards him are not actions between friends." She cleared her throat and adjusted her grip. "I...this is not the result of any concern that you would take him. This is the result of the concern that you are purposely interfering with my results."
Something shifted in her eyes, and she shook her head.
"I don't know why I am explaining this again. You know this." She lashed out through Svensyl, aiming for the hand that held Song again. "I cannot be tricked or confused into admitting something that I don't believe."
HP: 20
DMG: 9
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Molten Tigrex rolled 2 4-sided dice:
3, 2
Total: 5 (2-8)
|
Posted: Tue Oct 15, 2013 2:52 am
Interesting.
He hadn't been a hundred percent sure that was the case, but he was a good deal more now than before. Jealousy, really? And here he thought Robert saw all of his comments as a joke. This wasn't working; maybe he needed a new approach. He definitely needed to practice more, preferably with people who weren't also Mimsy's secret science project boyfriend.
Mimsy's flustering gave him time to idly run a finger along the tips of the jagged teeth of his sawblade one by one as if testing for sharpness. It helped to conserve his energy now, any chance he didn't explicitly have to move. His chest rose and fell more heavily than usual; his strength wasn't going to last much longer at this rate. Lucky's face was a little more than a blank mask now. He didn't look like he was enjoying himself, but he didn't seem sorry either. His pale green eyes darted between his weapon and the minute details of Mimsy's discomfort, filing it away for future consideration. Song's response was merely to begin glowing brightly, and call into existence a whirling, faintly blue cyclone around herself, releasing her charge. There was only one thing that could be said to her accusation over the rules of her little 'experiment'--
"I cannot interfere with the results of a research I do not even know the purpose of. I am afraid I can only speculate." He hefted his weapon to support most of Song on one shoulder. The faintest trace of humor had returned to his expression, at the idea that all this time he'd been killing two birds with one stone and didn't even know how expertly he'd aimed. "So, give me good reason to ask."
CHARGE: 0/3 using THE EYE (-3 instead of -6 for 2 rounds)
HP: 7/50
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Nothing Yet rolled 2 10-sided dice:
1, 1
Total: 2 (2-20)
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 15, 2013 3:08 am
"Now you are just speaking in fallacies again," Mimsy growled, clenching her free hand into a frustrated fist. One deep breath later, she was still just as irritated; as she glowered towards him, the faint, misty shape of a crown flickered into existence on top of her head. It was the same crown that showed itself to him during one of their previous spars, but it seemed a little more transparent this time. She still didn't seem to notice. "That is entirely untrue. I suppose that you cannot purposely interfere with any specific intent, but you can absolutely interfere - though I am still hesitant to claim that you did not purposely interfere, after the now numerous occasions that I warned against it." The more she argued, the more she felt as if he were just trying to bother her. She was doing a very bad job of preventing him from noticing how annoyed she was, if that were the case. "I am not going to pitch this project to you," she sneered. This was not a meeting before a grant committee. The offer she'd extended was meant to do him a favor, not the other way around, as much as he was getting in her way by refusing to accept. "The good reason to ask, however, should have been that I requested for you to ask me before involving yourself. I now see that I made a mistake by not creating a rule for this; clearly you have no qualms with pushing the boundaries on anything that is not laid out in black and white." But at the core of this was science, in some capacity at least, and she did enjoy talking about her work. In case there was any legitimate interest, she could push the olive branch across the table, and smack his hand away if she changed her mind. "If you agree to use the information that I share with you about this experiment to avoid disruption instead of causing it, then I will elaborate past simply defining it as an experiment. Surely that is fair. You understand the tremendous risk that I would be taking if I detailed all of the information without your agreement, and the vulnerabilities that it would provide you with." Though her steady stance and the occasional twitch of her fingers seemed to indicate that she was like a coiled snake at the moment, she kept Svensyl at her side, refraining from making any movements until he replied. The edges of the crown began to blend into the edges of reality, as if it were sinking back into nonexistence. HP: 20 DMG: 0, crown of anarchy activated @ doubles roll
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Molten Tigrex rolled 2 10-sided dice:
6, 4
Total: 10 (2-20)
|
Posted: Sun Oct 20, 2013 12:48 pm
He closed his eyes for a moment and drew in a breath for a heavy sigh.
"You are not the only one to have plans," he cut in, though he couldn't hide the amusement in his voice. For him, the challenge was not to get caught - and until she could successfully pin something on him, he was winning. In his own mind, anyway. "And you are the one who made game of this in first place trying to chase me away every time I so much as look in his direction. I vill stop vhen... vhen you..."
Whatever else he had to say died away before he had the chance to antagonize her further. Mimsy kept talking, but Lucky had stopped listening somewhere halfway through. Which was a shame, because it was far more likely he would have said yes to her offer this time for curiosity's sake alone. He was staring silently at something just above her head, with an expression that morphed from apprehensive to downright dangerous when whatever it was up there persisted in existing.
"KURWA," he cursed sharpy, entirely in Polish. He stumbled back a step and gestured at the crown with a careless wave of the saw, which inadvertently sent ripples of icy wind biting into Mimsy's shield. "Vhy do you have that still? "
As if in preparation for something, he gripped Song's handle with both hands. There wasn't enough energy left in him to do more than posture now, like a small creature puffing itself up. His wild accusation was in direct opposition to the calm demeanor he'd been trying to maintain. He was afraid. "You are doing this on purpose!"
DMG: 7 (-3 not -6)
HP: 7/50
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Nothing Yet rolled 2 10-sided dice:
8, 10
Total: 18 (2-20)
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 21, 2013 1:55 am
"Why do I have what?" There were equal parts annoyance and skepticism in Mimsy's inquiry, a flash of paranoia in her eyes. She had hardly moved her hand to summon the presence of the Book of Destruction, and the hand was still empty. How had he known? More importantly, why did he suddenly protest the artifact existing in her possession? But he wasn't looking at her hand, she realized. The stare and the direction of the gesticulating seemed to indicate something on or around her head. There was no inexplicable weight atop her hair, and the curious fingers that crept upward to investigate found nothing. Then it was a look of disbelief that found Lucky - was he really resorting to this type of trickery? They were almost two decades two old to play the 'made you look' game. It was his eyes that prevented her from scolding him for taking another stupidly easy route: they looked truly fearful. It was the look that betrayed him, that removed any possibility for her to fear him. She could never be afraid of something that was so afraid of her. The shift was slow and subtle as she tilted Svensyl towards her. His blade was not particularly reflective, but it was enough to see the faint, but visible outline of something above her head. She tried not to look panicked as she stared at the shape. A crown? An incredible amount of things made sense now. "There is nothing there," she lied, belatedly countering his lack of honesty weeks ago, and motioned towards the sword she was using as a mirror to ensure he could understand her certainty. "Are you feeling unwell?" Her eyes widened, then softened to pity. "Oh. Oh, Lucky. She is distorting your mind." She held her palm flat beside her, and deftly tucked the book that materialized there under her arm. Sparring did not hold the same refined muscle memory that carrying books did. "It will be okay. Perhaps...we can eliminate it." With the book still firmly held against her, she moved to strike - first Song, then his hands again, pulling back when Svensyl felt the shield begin to weaken. "Don't worry. I can help you," she assured him, though the attempt to strike his temple with the blunt end of her weapon seemed to indicate otherwise. Her methods of assistance were more than a little bit unorthodox. HP: 13 DMG: 13, book used
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
