Welcome to Gaia! ::

Character: Detraeus
Stage: Expert
Luck: 82
Creature: Eowyn Cah x 7, Rhamidon Loner x 5, Urshund Tunneler x 8
Success Rate: 6 - 100

Win x 20: 85 x 7 = 595 + (87 x 5) = 1030 + (95 x 8 ) = 1,790/2 = 895

Total: 895exp, levels to 105 with 25/105exp left over, +27 stat points to distribute

Word Count Required: 6,000+
Final Word Count: 11,518

“Casseth.” Detraeus frowned, thumbing at the neck of his canteen as he debated how to word himself. “You…like people…”

It was mid-evening in the direct aftermath of one of his practice sessions with Casseth. After working up the nerve, he had promised himself he would seek Cas’ council about Araceli and his gift to her. The more he lead up to it, however, the less prepared he felt for any variety of conversation on the subject, even with Casseth. The desert heat seemed only to edge on his anxiety, but the words were already out of his mouth, so he held the rest of his breath and awaited the inevitable.

“Mm. And you…have been with girls, too…? Recently…and they like you.” Detraeus frowned. This was a terrible idea. Already, he sounded like an idiot.

Detraeus flushed, heat creeping up to his eartips as he fidgeted, using the cap of his canteen as an excuse to distract his fingers. Brow furrowed, he scuffed his boot over the dirt. “I…bought a thing…something. For someone. But I don’t…it’s not…I haven’t—I’ve not showed anyone yet. And I don’t…what if…?” He huffed, rubbing at one of his burning ears. “I’ve never…given anyone…anything. Ever…”

Detraeus opened his mouth, debating several times before notching his head and standing up off the rock he’d been perched on and motioning for Casseth to follow. The walk wasn’t terribly far, and Detraeus hadn’t felt comfortable bringing his purchase out to see the sun previously regardless. After making it into to the dingier section of town to the complex where Detraeus still stayed and up the flight of steps to his room, he took Casseth in, and brought out the weapon. As he handed it over and Cas took it his hands, Detraeus explained himself.

“It’s a wind boomerang, cut for air currents to drive it and light for the same purpose…” He hesitated, though by now, surely it was obvious who he intended it for. “Araceli only sometimes keeps a single small dagger on her person. I know that for a dovaa, their clan is as close to them as my bow to me, but it seemed…lacking.” He frowned, pulse picking up at the prospect of actually trying to present her with it. “Is it a foolish thought…? Perhaps I should not have presumed…”

Detraeus felt a strange bubble of warmth in his chest at the words, but swallowed it down, and nodded, taking the weapon back. Though he had not the words to say it, Casseth’s encouragement was appreciated, and he knew, since he had gone to the effort of ordering and purchasing it — and because he genuinely believed Araceli would be better protected for it — he had to summon the will to present it to her. So it happened that, some two days later, when she did arrive for a practice session, he lingered after they had finished their practice, waiting until he had some space in only her company before approaching her.

He managed, after several clumsy beginnings, to convince her to follow him to his home. With no viable way of wrapping or hiding it, he hadn’t wanted to simply tote it along with him, and wanted to present it to her privately, so keeping it at home seemed the best viable option. As they approached his section of the town, however, she edged notably closer to him, an action which confused him, until he noticed the looks they were garnering. Given that it was a notably more slum-like corner of Taliuma — and heavily laced with oblivionite bloodlines — he supposed in retrospect it was no wonder Ara prompted stares. A pretty, pale, well-enough-off pureblood dovaa, walking beside an obliv?

He snorted, and lengthened his strides, tail coiling behind her — passively protective — and wings spreading slightly wider to cast both of them in their shadow. It wasn’t until they were nearing in on his living complex, fortunately, that they started attracting actual noise. A whistle at first. Then, several fleeting, crude remarks. Then, mere feet from the front door to his building:

“How much did she cost, that one? I bet I can double his price, dragon girl, if you give me the first go…you can even give ‘im sloppy seconds if y—”

Detraeus snarled and leapt, blade drawn, inches from the man who’d spoke.

“Oi—woah, woah, woah!”

“Detraeus.”

Detraeus froze at Araceli’s voice, still poised, the other man’s hand on his hilt.

“That’s right, boy,” the man sneered. “Listen to your little whore. Maybe if she isn’t already carrying one, you can put a hybrid mutt in her belly—”

Detraeus spat, the saliva blotting half on the man’s boot and half on the earth. The aggravator lunged. Shhlink was the sound of his opponent’s blade coming from its sheath. But the movement was aborted and the sound drowned a second later under the crack and groan of Detraeus’ short-sword hilt against the man’s solar plexus. By the time his body hit earth, Detraeus had his foot on the man’s weapon and blade tip to his throat, tail lashing behind him.

“Stay.”

The man sneered, one hand to his gut but lips still curled back. Mostly obliv, but part dovaa, if the smattering of light on his cheeks was scales. When he opened his mouth, Detraeus nicked at him, drawing blood and a yelped snarl instead of words. Detraeus stepped back, re-sheathing his blade and immediately ushering Ara inside.

“Come.”

The tension in his posture did not relax until he had her indoors, up the stairs, and closed within the safety of his room. It didn’t occur to him, until he had her there, to think twice about how relatively pitiful his living quarters must look to her, despite the rigid cleanliness. He shoved the thought away.

Detraeus’ face heated, a new sort of tension edging in in place of the previous sort as his pulse picked up. He swallowed, gripping his fists and releasing them to ease tension before rubbing at his ear. “I…” He released a breath, and grit his teeth before moving for the weapon, removing it from behind the narrow shelf upon which he kept his writing and reading utensils and pulling back the cloth he’d covered it with to keep the dust off before holding it out her. It took half the concentration in him just to keep his fingers from shaking. “It’s…always best to have more than one plan,” he said.

“A ‘wind boomerang’,” Detraeus said as he nodded. “The blade is obsidian. Much of it’s wood is hollowed out with tunnels designed for your magic to manipulate it, though the wood and blade are reinforced for strength so that despite its light weight, it should withstand great force, should you push it to its limits. The moonstones will glow at night, should you decide to activate them, and the engravings are minor protective runes…”