|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Nov 29, 2010 11:39 am
↪ ｒ ｏ ｌ ｅ ｐ ｌ ａ ｙBargaining For More
Shati is approached at night by a kind lord and his eerie "familiar".
Aside from the initial business proposal, she learns that she is the keeper of a Plague.
Yizhaq explains what that entails to some extent, and then heads home to his family.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Nov 29, 2010 11:40 am
↪ ｒ ｏ ｌ ｅ ｐ ｌ ａ ｙNo Need To Be Nervous
Shati finds herself in the company of a strange young woman from Sherygoed and her nasty flower Plague.
All but Claudia seem to enjoy lunch, and an invitation is offered for a later social call.
Felicity is given a small amount of product for free.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Nov 29, 2010 11:42 am
↪ ｓ ｏ ｌ ｏ Shati tilted her head up toward the treetops, watching for any sign of life. A bird stirred and caught her attention for the briefest of moments, but she soon returned to her vigil. The young woman stood with the useless bits of pear from this day's work; nobody wanted stems and cores or bruised bits of fruit. Nobody, that was, except for her... what should she call him now? The bat had been a welcome guest for quite some time now, keeping her crops clean of insects when there was a need. Given the days and weeks, the young farmer had actually grown fond of the creature and made a habit of visiting it out in the field. It was still a bat, of course, but the promise of its transformation made her wonder. Lord Yizhaq had warned her that it should be given a name, but what kind of name did you give a fantastical creature of disease?
Apparently the bat had noticed Shati as she was lost in thought, as she blinked and found it just before her, dangling expectantly. She had never thought before that something was different about this beast, but now she noticed its bizarre coloration and darkened features. It watched her with glowing eyes wide and shifted slightly on its branch.
"Hello, little one," the farmer said, offering the pear's core and reaching out to scratch the bat's head. It did not blatantly enjoy or deny the gesture, but reached out to try and grab the core. In response, Shati pulled back the large piece and offered out a bruised section, which the bat gladly took and ate with his neck craned up into his thumbs. She watched the creature smack its food, looking for all the world like a tamed dog unsure of how to handle its food. Still it allowed her to pet it, and it looked up to her.
Did it recognize her, she wondered? Previously she had thought the bat viewed her only as a warm body and a possible obstacle, perhaps a food vendor. Now she dwelled on the expression on its canid face and the sparkle in its eyes. Maybe it knew her. Maybe it knew more than she could ever know. It was impossible to tell, and would be until that bat sprouted legs and spoke to her. Another shudder ran down her spine.
A name. No child was born without a name from Panymium to Yirui. Although a Plague was not quite a child or a human at all, it seemed improper to welcome one without something to call it. It might hate its name, it might change it at will or deny one at all, but the Lord had been right. The bat needed a name.
Again the bat looked to Shati, its eyes innocent and trusting. She couldn't help but smile down at it. Did it know what a smile was? Her fingers danced along its head, scratching behind its ears and straying to its neck. What did you name a wild creature? "Bat" wouldn't be at all proper, and back in Uque there had been no names for the free creatures: even the domesticated animals had only nicknames. A nickname was based on actions and appearance, and considering the weight of naming a child, a nickname would simply have to do.
'Cute fly-eating beast' was tempting, but not particularly appropriate, and 'Rubbish' wouldn't work if she wanted to raise the Plague in a loving manner. Shati looked the bat over, observing what she could from backward feet to the tips of his ears. He looked distinctly like some kind of canid animal, a dog or a coyote perhaps. Little dog, little coyote, little wolf...?
"Fillin?" she suddenly asked. The bat was initially startled, and seemed to hug himself as his head snapped to the farmer. He had finished his fruit, though, and he stretched his wings out as far as they could go. His little fingers reached for what Shati knew had to be the pear core, but he ended up grasping her hand in his, and her smile grew. She would take that as acceptance, thank you very much.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Nov 29, 2010 11:43 am
↪ ｒ ｏ ｌ ｅ ｐ ｌ ａ ｙPhysics
Shati bumps into an attractive, but very awkward young man also from Sherygoed.
They chat for a while, and Seymour's strangely smoking kiseru is a topic of much interest.
A purchase is made for his trip back home, and the pair part ways with shared contact information.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Nov 29, 2010 11:46 am
↪ ｓ ｏ ｌ ｏ Things changed when you knew you were to become the guardian of a Plague. Suddenly, all of Shati's concern had turned to the bat in her back yard. She had begun to hang fruit and stale bread from the tree just outside her home, trying to keep the bat, Fillin, close and safe. She spent time with him every night, sure to call him by name and talk to him like a person even though she wasn't sure if he was wholly intelligent yet. For a time she had considered inviting him to live inside, but what wild animal wanted to hang from the bureau instead of a branch? Outside Fillin stayed, and he seemed to rather enjoy becoming a chubby, pampered bat.
Shati had been worried when the riots began, although she had been pleasantly distant for all but one instance. She had been caught amidst the mob, jostled and nearly assaulted as the waves moved around her. Her cart had been overturned, and she had escaped after tumbling with bruises on her arms and legs. Business began to reply upon the outskirts of the cities and the businesses she regularly sold to. The angry mobs had thinned and grown infrequent, but the time spent in political unrest made Shati believe that the world was changing. From what Yizhaq had said to her, being a Grimm was an important and dangerous job for the average person. An alliance needed to be struck with one of the factions dedicated to fixing society and curing the Plague. A decision had to be made.
The mages and the scientists were both options in Shati's mind. Lord Yizhaq had been a mage, and he was a charming and intelligent man, but he had also stated that mages were not generally accepted in society. That could be a terrible blow to business. They had their own magical beliefs as well, while the farmer had been raised with much different herbal medicine and spiritualism. The scientists were much more clinical and medical, and it seemed as if their desire to impress upon society was more limited to the Plague itself. Still, she thought perhaps her tribal medicine could help shed new light on their medical practices, and she found that their headquarters were located much closer to her homestead.
In the end, she'd decided to make a trip to Gadu. Shati planned to leave in the morning and be back that evening, and she was confident that Fillin would be safe in the yard with the food she had left and the blanket she had piled between the sturdy branches of his home. She packed for a day and found a traveling merchant headed in that direction, sitting in the back of his horse-drawn cart. As he passed Gadu, she slid off the back and thanked him for the ride, heading into the city on foot.
Shati felt desperately misplaced in the big city, even though she had traveled through and sold product in cities nearly its size. She felt out of place in her peasant garb with her worn bag, and with the people milling around her, totally comfortable in what was to her completely unfamiliar territory. The young woman found herself desperately lost and turned-around within a half hour of entering the city, and feeling helpless she turned to the nearest stranger for assistance.
"Excuse me, milord! Milord, could you help me please?" She raised her hand in the crowd and took a few steps toward him, and he turned to her. He seemed to be a business type, much less likely to rob her and mislead her in directing her... hopefully. " I am looking for the base of operations for the Council of Sciences. Would you be able to direct me?
For what seemed like a very long moment, the man raised his head and squinted against the sun out toward the city. Shati thought that he may just be ignoring her until he turned again, unsmiling but apparently willing to help.
"Go four blocks that way, and take a left," he explained, "You should be able to see it from there. It's a large stone structure with a domed roof. You won't miss it."
"Thank you, milord!" Shati exhaled, grinning with relief as she gave the man a little bow and began away, "Thank you very much!
She may have seemed a little over-zealous, but she would have preferred anger over being lost for another hour. The young woman walked swiftly through the city, clearly determined, and was relieved to find the businessman's directions completely accurate. The headquarters loomed in the distance, far enough to not look horrible intimidating, but close enough to be admired for its architecture. It was precisely what one hoped a base of operations would look like: large, respectable, and clean. She reached the front doors within minutes and stared up at the stone edifice. Now she was wholly intimidated. The building looked more like a university, the likes of which she had never been within, than any kind of base. The people within seemed somehow higher-class to her, not necessarily financially more gifted, but of a higher caliber than a young foreign farmer. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside.
There was a young woman who seemed to be there to assist visitors, at least she sat behind a well-carved desk. Shati approached her with a hesitant smile, and the receptionist spoke.
"How can I help you today?"
"Actually," Shati began carefully, "I was wondering what steps once would have to go through to become a member of the Council of Sciences.."
"It's quite simple. If you give us directions to your home, we will send a messenger to you to give you further instruction."
Shati was a bit taken-aback by the process. She remembered Seymour saying that he was on a mission for the scientists, but was not yet a member. Perhaps that was what they planned to do with her. She thanked the other woman, gave a description of and directions to her farm, and thanked her again before heading out to find a way back home. She would walk if she had to, but she would rather be able to sit and think on the day's events.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 03, 2011 11:32 am
↪ ｍ ｉ ｓ ｓ ｉ ｏ ｎ
ｐａｒｔ ｏｎｅ Just a few days ago we received word that one of our more esteemed professors, Sylestre Vonai, had lost track of his assistant, the Student Shiloh Esmour. There are no clues as to his attackers or if he merely had a bout of insanity and fled his home, however this is a very inconvenient turn of events as Mr. Esmour was working on something Professor Vonai stated to be "ground breaking". This experiment is very important to us, as well as any documentation, and must be returned as soon as possible! We are asking this of you, Ms. Shati Pac, as we feel it will be a good judge of skill and prudence. We ask that you go to Mr. Esmour's home in Imisus (Gadu to be precise) and retrieve the experiment in question. Step lightly, for though his home is now barren, you may hear tiny footfalls. Please handle it with care, Professor Vonai tells us it is rather... lively. It is best that a Grimm, one of immunity to the Death, take up this task.
It seemed an oddly important task to wager on a new candidate. If the experiment was of grave importance, shouldn't they have sent an old salt, someone who would know what to do and do it well? On the other hand, though, what better test of skill and loyalty than to send them somewhere important, but not necessarily life-or-death?
Shati peered down at the address scrawled hastily across a scrap of paper, and then looked to the house it had brought her to. It was nothing she would expect for a professor's assistant. This was the home of an average man on an average salary, not a mansion for a scholar. It was reassuring to see that the scientists were normal people to, or as normal as this house suggested. It looked and felt like it had just been abandoned, that someone had gotten the idea and walked out the front door without a second thought. The whole place felt empty... or at least devoid of life. There was something else there too, something less scientific and less explainable. The little house felt haunted.
The young farmer shot a hesitant glance up and down the street. Those mulling about her paid no heed, and Shati scolded herself for being paranoid. In a city so large, why would anyone care whose home she entered? She started up the creaking steps, fishing around in her apron for the key the messenger had provided and approached the door. To her surprise, the lock was broken and the door swung open without much force. Shati led with her shoulder as she pushed into the house, feeling deeply like she wasn't allowed inside.
What had once been a reasonable abode had become utter destruction. Lamps were shattered, spilling oil to the floor, and furniture was completely upended. All of the drawers in the kitchen had been raided, and a good portion of the china was lying in shards on every available surface. Someone had broken in since the Council's investigation, Shati was certain. There was no way to miss the force that had blown through here. There was still a job to do here, though, mess or not. The young woman began in the parlor, searching every drawer and every cushion for what could be considered important. Hands empty, she continued to the kitchen to find nothing of interest, save an expired mouse that had apparently been partially mutilated. Her mood greatly dampened, Shati started up the stairs toward the second level.
The strangeness she had been expecting suddenly began.
For every stair Shati took, there was a pattering sound like rats in the wall. When she stopped, it stopped. There were legends that spoke of beasts matching a hunter step by step until it was too late. Unhappily, Shati felt distinctly like one of those hunters. Still, she had a mission to complete if she wanted to become a member of the Council. Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she jogged up the rest of the stairway, hoping that whatever was watching her would be startled away. The door at the top of the stairs was mostly closed, although sunlight filtered in through a small crack and painted a stretch of the hallway bright yellow. A bit paranoid, Shati nudged the door open with her foot first.
Ha-ha!
"OH!" Shati yelped, drawing her foot back so hard that she nearly took a tumble. She inspected her boot to find that something had bitten clean through, straight to the flesh to leave a stinging little wound. Rather than be frightened, the farmer was suddenly angry. Stupid rats! Stupid experiments! She threw the door open wide and stomped in with both feet, trying to make as much noise as she possibly could.
She felt quite silly when she saw what stared up at her from the floor.
A little Plague stood in the center of the room, dressed all in oranges and reds with a tall leafy hat. In its hand it held a golden sword, not bloodied but likely the cause of the scratch Shati had sustained. The little Plague lifted his sword, clearly challenging Shati, and his glowing eyes narrowed. She just lunged at it, and growled when it scampered away to hide. If this was what having a Plague was all about, she could definitely do without. Still, it seemed to be gone for the time being and she could focus on her work.
This attic space had been less destroyed by the robbers, and Shati could guess why. Some equipment had been spilled or shattered; mysterious fluid leaked into books and papers and had stained and wrinkled them. Still books were stacked in neat rows and columns, and the open closet was virtually untouched. This was the Plague's domain, Shati reasoned. It wasn't about to let a gang of punks rob it. She carefully tip-toed her way to the main desk, collecting any papers that seemed at all relevant to science. Why had the Council not taken these themselves, she wondered? Perhaps they were useless after all, but it was better to be safe than sorry. One particular note left coffee-stained on the floor began 'the Plague has been reaction well to--'. Shati sighed. She had been sent here to collect the Plague, hadn't she? Where had the little beast gone, though? It had run, and she hadn't care where at the time, but it appeared she wasn't going to be able to leave until she found it.
Shati leaned over slowly, knowing that the Plague was probably watching from some hidden perch or hidey-hole. From the desk she grabbed a beaker and returned to the center of the room, doing a little circle as she scanned the walls.
"What are you, afraid?" she provoked, watching for any hints of movement, "Come back out here, let us see how strong you really are. You didn't touch me, not a scratch, and I bet you couldn't stop the others from stealing your master's things. All of this is mine now. So come, are you going to stop me?"
The sound the Plague made as it burst from the lower shelf in the closet was half pathetic and half terrifying. It was a little yell, barely louder than a mewling kitten, but it heralded a little sword raised high and glinting in the sun. It rushed at the intruder and began hacking at her ankles in an attempt to get her to leave.
"LITTLE WRETCH!" Shati yelped, angered further by the pain, as she kicked the Plague halfway across the room. She lunged after it, beaker above her head, but missed completely as it rolled out of the way. She did, however, capture the creature within the glass before it was able to get up and run for the closet again. With a laugh of triumph, Shati pinned the beaker under her foot and reached for a notebook on the desk. She carefully slid it under the Plague, and although it shouted muffled protests, she placed it in her bag with the documents and lashed it closed.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 03, 2011 1:16 pm
↪ ｍ ｉ ｓ ｓ ｉ ｏ ｎ
ｐａｒｔ ｔｗｏ To its credit, the Plague fought tooth and nail to escape. Shati had considered just carrying it in the beaker to the base, but she couldn't imagine how many people would want to cause trouble. It had managed twice now to escape from beneath the beaker and make its way to the lip of the bag to try and climb free. Both times it had been thwarted. On the second occurrence, Shati had rolled up the top of the bag and put it under her arm to resist further attempts. It was clear that she would have none of this.
For a time there was frantic pushing and stabbing at the roll of fabric, which accomplished next to nothing. Thwarted, the Plague concocted another plan of escape. Horrible ripping sounds met Shati's ears as a golden blade sliced through the bottom of her bag, trying to slice a hole large enough to slip right through. Unfortunately for the little beastie, its captor caught wise and rolled the entire bag up on itself and pushed it against her side. Of course, she was met with a series of little slices and scratches when the Plague, now lacking any real method of escape tried to cause as much damage as it could from within its prison. Shati began to jog, wanting to be rid of this burden as soon as she possibly could.
The receptionist, if that was indeed what she was, gave the young woman a bit of a queer look as she jogged into the headquarters. Shati gave her name and mentioned her appointment, though, and a boy of low rank led her back through the astounding corridors to a man sitting behind a heavy wooden desk.
"Hello, I am Shati Pac," she introduced herself, reaching out to shake the hand the man offered, "I believe that I have aquired the experiment from Mr. Esmour."
"Did you?" the scholar asked, pushing his glasses to the bridge of his nose, "Let us have a look, then."
As the man reached for her bag, Shati only clutched it more tightly to her. The Plague had been mostly obedient for the past few minutes, and she feared that loosing it on the base could cost her membership.
"Oh, don't be shy, come on now."
Shati tentatively held out her bag, letting it unroll and open on the desk. The Plague rustled and crawled from the open lip, standing and offering a great flourish and a bow to the scholar. Shreds of paper followed him, and Shati imagined that the files must be worse for the wear.
"Yes, yes, very good," the scholar smiled, "If you'll come with me, we can complete the paperwork required for your membership." Shati smiled broadly back and began to follow the man further into the building. It wasn't until she looked down did she realize the bloodied footprints she was leaving.
"Could we perhaps detour at the nearest first aid station?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Mar 26, 2011 5:31 pm
↪ ｍ ｅ ｔ ａ : ｃ ｒ ｅ ｄ ｅ ｎ ｃ ｅ
ｃｈａｌｌｅｎｇｅ ｏｎｅ A crow has nestled incessantly nearby you, wherever you may be, and clutched within its beak is a frail roll of parchment wrapped around ever so carefully in black ribbon. The crow is gleaming a seeping black, as if it was tainted by the Death, and around it is the aura of careful whispers. You reach for it, though you might not know why, exactly, and you unravel the contents of the parchment and, in that instance, you hear--
"Grimm,"
In a hushed voice, the parchment, whose inked words also glow with an uneasy black, whispers to you this:
"Shati Pac,
Such a lovely little farm you have, Ms. Pac... did you know that the House has the ability to control the Plague?
If you didn't, here's some news for you. It'd be such a shame to rid of your animals, but what other choice do we have? To ask you politely for your Plague?
Ah, wait, perhaps we can."
After it whispers to you, the crow's brittle wings flutter as it disappears into the sky, and the parchment unravels in your hands and melts into a mess of delicate black ribbon.
Shati gasped, watching the shreds of blackened parchment flutter between her fingers. The crow, she had no doubt, was somehow enchanted or perhaps a Plague in and of itself. Who had sent it? Who was this "we" that had been so bold as to threaten her, and then not taken credit for said threat? She glanced once back out to the field where the cows and sheep grazed, and nothing seemed amiss. She looked finally to the embers that had once been parchment and made a soft, helpless noise.
"What is it?" a voice asked, so close and so quiet as to make Shati jump. Fillin was hanging from the branch just above his Grimm's head, lacking backward feet but not out of the habit. He grabbed the bark and released his knees, dropping to Shati's shoulder on a little huff of air. He had seen the parchment disintegrate and glared rather hideously at the crow, but it was all for naught. He had not heard what it said, nor read what it delivered.
"Someone is threatening us," Shati explained, looking to the Caedos that now stood on her shoulder and held himself steady with her head, "Can the plague spread to animals?" Even as she spoke, she felt she may know the answer. People would be much more afraid to be outside if animals carried the disease, and Fillin, he himself had been a beast before becoming a Plague. His manner often smacked of his fuzzier form. The Caedos chose to not respond, apparently more interested at the mess on the ground. When he spoke, it started Shati again.
"Threaten them back."
"We can't," the woman responded, "I don't know who it was." Whoever it was, though, they certainly sounded powerful. Who could control the plague? Who was willing to launch such serious threats for the possession of a mysterious creature? With the riots coming again to the streets of Imisus, and unrest becoming the norm, it certainly seemed as if someone was taking advantage of the times. The council had been sending her messages as well, with the Councilor gone and the catacombs the target of attack. She was frightened just to live, and the state of the streets had prevented her income for an uncomfortably long time. Savings would only last so long, even with supplies on emergency status.
You could not just up and leave a farm, especially one so well-stocked as this. Shati had built herself a place to live, grown crops and raised animals, and made herself a stable and pleasant existence outside the city. Nobody could take this away from her, not directly or by frightening her into abandoning it. Steps had to be taken. Spirits help her if she was attacked, but there was only so much a girl could do without ending up on the streets begging for bread. Shati turned again to her animals, serene without the threat of kidnapping or slaughter.
Calculated risks had to be taken. Before night fell, the farmer arrived in Chestering, Fillin nestled safely in her blouse. Her intent was to find a member of the Imperial Guard and enter a plea for protection not of herself, but of her livestock. Where they would be boarded she didn't know, but you couldn't travel with the amount of creatures Shati owned. She had to escape, and she had to protect her assets; already it was killing her to imagine leaving her grown and growing crops. Would she return home to find the farm razed to the ground? Her biggest worries were more immediate; the protection of herself and of Fillin, who was clearly a target, and of her livelihood.
Why would they want her farm, they asked? Food was not a problem at the current point in time, and if it were then the cattle would certainly become targets. She was not in the city, at the heart of the riots, but a steady distance away and more or less safe. Without knowing who had threatened her, they could not help. Without being privy to her Grimm status and the nature of the threat, which she could not prove, there was nothing they could do.
Shati could barely keep herself under control as she traveled home. To have your world crumbling so suddenly around you was a shock to the mind. She had to leave, though. Animals were easy to slaughter, and her home was not locked so tight that a group of men couldn't come in and take Fillin. She worried as well for what they might do to her.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 27, 2011 12:27 pm
↪ ｍ ｅ ｔ ａ : ｃ ｒ ｅ ｄ ｅ ｎ ｃ ｅ
ｃｈａｌｌｅｎｇｅ ｔｗｏ The Council had sent pleas for help, but the travel to Auvinus would be perilous. She was but a student, and her research was not yet impactful, but she would save what she could. The documents and substances she had been working with were piled into a bag, and she pulled a chair over the entrance to her catacombs. Hopefully whatever attacks came would not rise from beneath the floorboards.
Deciding that her livestock had better chances roaming while she escaped than locked away, she spread back-stock of feed for them and removed the fencing into the fields orchard. Let the animals take what they could, it was sure to rot on the vine.
An invitation had been extended to her when the riots had begun, and she had arrived with a delivery and no recipients. She was reassured in knowing that good people came from Shyregoed. The Grimms she had met and the man with the mysterious kiseru, they had all hailed from the cold land. If it were not for abandoning her livelihood, she would have been more willing. She packed several bags and went into town the next morning, finding her first ride within hours. Shaking, eyes wet, she hopped into the back of a horse-drawn carriage with myriad other citizens running from the turmoil. It would be a week or more before she arrived at her destination.
Travel was difficult, not physically but emotionally. Shati cried often and felt somewhat alienated from her very local companions. Fillin did not make things any easier, often trying to loot their possessions as they slept. Food was fair, considering the farmer had packed a good deal, and there had been enough savings to keep from worrying about funds, but this was not home. This was not the place that Shati had chosen and built for herself. Had the cows escaped? Were the chickens laying? Was the house being looted or vandalized? Every time she thought of it she wept, and it was fairly often.
Fillin rested in the bag Shati had taken with her into the carriage, often frustrated and irritated that he had to stay hidden so often. He ate the food left for him and looked through the various documents, found himself the most comfortable sleeping positions and emerging at night when everyone was asleep, everyone but his Grimm. He worried, in his own way, for her safety. He had never seen her this upset before, let alone crying. He chose to not mention it. She certainly knew herself that things were not quite right. He would just wait, then, until they got to the Lord's estate. He was interested to see other Plagues while he was able to speak.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Mar 29, 2011 11:01 am
↪ ｍ ｅ ｔ ａ : ｃ ｒ ｅ ｄ ｅ ｎ ｃ ｅ
ｔｈｅ ｓｔａｒｔ The first stop at a guard post had been a lucky draw. Fillin was not able to escape in time, and had been caught napping in Shati's shoulder bag. The farmer had hurriedly produced her identification as a member of the Council of Sciences and, as an afterthought, her sophomoric research papers. The look on the guard's face worried her. After all, any cultist (and she knew now who was likely behind the threats) could obtain falsified records. It took her whispering to the guard that she was escaping Imisus to a friend's estate in Shyregoed, and to tearfully explain that she had left her whole life behind before he, being an apparently merciful man, allowed her to continue passage. Now, of course, her companions knew of her status, and anyone listening... well, she may be in a patch of deeper trouble.
The second stop became a near-miss when Fillin huddled in the corner of said back and closed his eyes. Apparently his clothing was dark enough and the guard lazy enough that he was not caught.
From then on, considering the rest of Shati's traveling companions now knew of her Grimm status, any time a guard station was approached, Fillin would grudgingly slip up Shati's skirts and cling to the inner lining. The feeling of alienation from her fellow travelers was compounded now, but at least jail time wasn't to be added to either the Plague or its Grimm's already hectic schedule.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 02, 2011 10:48 am
↪ ｍ ｅ ｔ ａ : ｃ ｒ ｅ ｄ ｅ ｎ ｃ ｅ
ｏｐｐｏｓａｂｌｅ ｆｉｎｇｅｒｓ/ｒｏｕｔｉｎｅ Finally. Finally with her feet on solid ground, Shati could feel some semblance of safety. This particular township seemed calmed somehow, perhaps by Lord Yizhaq's own doing. The current riots were nothing compared to what she had seen in Imisus, and hopefully could get no worse in her time here. She would be seeking the lord's guidance for certain, for although he was just a man he seemed a wise and well-lived one. Would it ever be safe to return to Imusus? Indeed, what remained of her homestead at all?
As she walked she barely noticed the ever-present crows; her awareness of them had dulled in her long travel. She did not even see the elderly woman rush to her until the wretch had a hand firmly wrapped around her apron.
"Excuse me!" Shati yelped, half actually apologizing but mostly just taken aback. She yanked back, dislodging Fillin from his perch in her bosom and sending him tumbling into the air.
"She's one of them!" the old crone shouted, "She's one of them!"
Suddenly, there was a rush of action. A mob that had simply been yelling, thrumming with intensity, was now barreling forth toward her, tearing at her clothes and trying to grasp the Plague now clinging desperately to his Grimm's hair.
"GET OFF OF ME, YOU AWFUL BEASTS!" she shrieked, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks, "JUST LEAVE ME BE!"
The soft farm girl had gone somewhere to hide. The woman that rose up then was Shati Pac, the daughter of a hunter and a woman with fingers worked to the bones, a child raised in a different land who had struck out on her own to create a livelihood for herself amidst an entirely new society. She struck out with her fists and feet, kicking and punching and biting whatever bit of flesh she could get her hands on. Some people relented, others kept on. Fillin shrieked like the damned, doing whatever he could himself to keep the peasants' grubby little hands off of him. Just as a man had hid by the leg, tugging mercilessly, a strong voice rose above the din.
"Cease what you are doing! Everyone, everyone, clear a path!" It may have been the authoritative tone or the spear he carried, but the rioters mostly listened to the approaching guards. Shati was able to escape and clutched her Plague to her bosom, panting desperately and bruised.
"Go on, go!" the guard yelled, shooing the commoners like so many vermin, "It is none of your business here!" Shati sighed, eyes still streaming as she clutched Fillin to her breast.
"Thank you," she said softly, knowing well what might have befallen her if the attack had continued, "Thank you, sir."
"Are you alright, ma'am?" the guard asked, and for the moment he seemed truly concerned. When Shati nodded, he stood from his bent position and nodded, "What are you doing here in Shyregoed?"
"I am a member of the Council of Sciences. I was forced out of my home and away from the riots... I've come to stay with Lord Yizhaq while things... while they quiet down."
"Your plight may be greatly lessened were you not in possession of a Plague," the guard said, but seemed slightly startled when Shati's eyes turned to ice, "Perhaps you should relinquish it to the Imperial Guard and have it transported to the Council for safety."
"I have come all this way," Shati began, visibly growing more upset by the moment, "To protect him, and to protect myself. I have traveled more than a week, to come here, to be safe beneath someone I know I can trust, and I know now I cannot trust unfamiliar folk. Now you... you may cajole and wheedle as much as you like, but nobody is going to remove my Plague from me. He is all I have now. It would, however, be very kind of you to lead me to the estate." The guard nodded and turned on his heel, beginning to walk down the road. Shati followed, exercising a whit of trust as she knew the location of the lord's estate and seemed to be heading towards it. Fillin, meanwhile, was rather proud of his strong-headed Grimm.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 06, 2011 11:12 am
↪ ｍ ｅ ｔ ａ : ｃ ｒ ｅ ｄ ｅ ｎ ｃ ｅ
ｌｏｖｅｌｙ ｃｏｒｐｓｅ It was impossible to keep a Plague completely contained, once they had reached a stage with opposable thumbs. Although Shati had closed the window before falling into restless sleep, Fillin had just as easily climbed to the sill and opened it again. He was going stir-crazy, pent up in this glorified shack, with so many people and Plagues to get on his nerves. Someone in this town had to have something worth stealing, some coin perhaps or a bit of fresh fruit. With everyone hiding within the estate walls, it should be easier to escape with something in the dead of night.
There were barely any sounds safe the gentle puffs of wind FIllin kept himself from crashing to the street with. He stuck to the shadows, running under the eves of abandoned houses and through dark corridors. Some windows were deliberately left unlocked and some were broken in the political turmoil. Either way, he chewed a bit of stale bread while wandering more casually down the street.
Of course, voices stopped him.
They were not voices he recognized, nor particularly friendly-sounding ones. He could see human shapes a ways down the road, and they were either facing him directly or in the opposite direction. Considering what they said, he thought it must have been the former.
"What's that?" the first voice asked.
"It looks like eyes," the second replied, and a single footstep echoed between the buildings.
"Eyes?"
Fillin took a hesitant step back. With the way he had been treated in recent memory, that didn't sound like a good thing. In a moment he turned tail and ran, sprinting as fast as he could away from the pair in the darkness. The sound of tiny footsteps must have alerted them, for they soon gave chase. It wasn't hard to catch up to something only a few inches tall, and soon Fillin felt strong hands around his waist. He shrieked and clawed, biting the flesh as best he could.
"I've got it!" his captor shouted, "Ow!" There was an expression of pain, but no relenting in the grip. Fillin began to struggle, trying to pull his thin body out the old-fashioned way. He hadn't expected to suddenly find himself bathed in blackness as he was placed into some container or bag one of his attackers held. He shrieked again, heaving himself against the sturdy inside walls and not at all hearing the others as they spoke. He had to escape, had to get back to Shati, had to-- aha!
A thin ribbon of stars told him where the hasp of the basket laid. His hands reached up, feeling if it was something he could manage from within. A thin strip of leather was tied around a wooden dowel, and given a moment's searching he found the end of the string.
"Now, now! We're going to take good care of you!" one of his captors said, and he pulled right back into the basket. They were watching him? That would make it more difficult to escape for certain, but not necessarily impossible. The bottom of the structure would be hard to break. He saw the hasp as his only hope.
Who knew how long it took? Hours, perhaps, before the leather strap showed slack. Fillin panicked briefly, not wanting his captor to feel the weight change within and clung to the clasp. He steeled himself for his stealthy escape and--
shhht!
A little puff of air jettisoned the Plague from the basket as it fell open, and gave him a few seconds' head start down a dark alleyway. His attackers were close behind, but their search would come up fruitless. Fillin sat inside a building behind a broken window sill, eyes closed hard against the dark.
It was morning again before Fillin felt safe enough to travel home. He found he couldn't fit a fleshy pink arm through the hole from which he had entered. He kicked down the door the slipped into the darkness, grateful that the streets seemed mostly empty. He made his way back to the estate and ran to his room, where his Grimm just screamed. His tried to squeal in response, but the sound came out broken.
"Who are you?!" Shati cried, "Get out!"
"It's Fillin!" he defended, holding up his hands.
"You are most certainly not!"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 16, 2011 12:40 pm
↪ ｒ ｏ ｌ ｅ ｐ ｌ ａ ｙAn Unusual Circumstance
Shati approaches Lord Yizhaq with a man who claims to be human Fillin.
The situation is explained as best one can.
Fillin is again allowed to stay in his and his Grimm's shared quarters.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 16, 2011 12:42 pm
↪ ｍ ｅ ｔ ａ : ｃ ｒ ｅ ｄ ｅ ｎ ｃ ｅ
ｄｒｙ ｓｐｉｎｅ It was time. To have somewhere to run had been helpful in a time of need, but what of Imisus? What of her home, of her life outside of this terrible trouble? The summons from the Dean had been the kick she needed to get back to where she belonged. She had thanked Lord Yizhaq for his help, as excessive as it had been, and left to find herself a carriage to bring her home. She was dreading what she would come to find.
Rather than turn toward the farm, though, she headed for Gadu. It seemed that things had calmed in Imisus, for the Dean to be calling for assistance cleaning up instead of help beating back the swarms back from the headquarters. She had not been able to come back for the last call, she had not been strong enough and not at all ready to focus on other people entirely. This go-around, she felt it was the proper time to confront her life outside of riots and crows. As a student, it was her job to serve the Dean.
Originally Shati had been assigned to filing and recovery. She followed men through the tunnels and organized what could be found. This was tedious work, though, and she felt like a secretary. It took some doing, but finally the farmer strong-armed her way into the grunt-work. She was as tall as any man, as strong as any man, and could easily help reset beams and clear out rubble from the tunnels that had been destroyed. She felt like she was helping much more to barrel her way through the destruction.
Fillin mostly stayed back and kept company with the scientists, spying and raiding the kitchen. He was long since back to his normal size, and found it didn't matter much to him what happened in the realm of Grimms. He could not be destroyed so easily, although his issue with the cultists had taught him to be more careful.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 16, 2011 12:44 pm
↪ ｍ ｅ ｔ ａ : ｃ ｒ ｅ ｄ ｅ ｎ ｃ ｅ
ａ ｊｏｂ ｗｅｌｌ ｄｏｎｅ
They caught her as she carried a bettered trunk on one shoulder, prepared to continue working for the Council as they required. Filling perched on a corner of said trunk, watching the officer who approached before Shati even saw him. The man was clad in official gear, and he offered a hand as he approached.
"Miss Shati Pac?"
"Yes..." Shati responded carefully, putting the trunk down to shake the man's hand. "How can I help you?"
"I've come direct from King Fang yo update you on the status of your home and family."
Thank the spirits, Shati thought, that she had no family in Imisus to worry about. Had there been others, she doubtlessly would not have been able to leave the region in the first place. Who knew what would happen then? Of course, on the other side, this was a moment that she was regretting. She would not admit it to herself, but the farmer had spent her days procrastinating, putting off finding what damage had been done to a home and business she had built from the ground-up. It had to come, though, better sooner than later, and she nodded for the officer to continue.
"Your home was one of those raided, Miss," he said, "I can't speak for as many animals as you had, but with a broken fence there is doubt that hey all remain. Your crops have been damaged, and your home partially destroyed." Well, he certainly wasn't one to mince words, was he? He showed no emotion as Shati's face twisted into a horrible grimace, nor as tears rimmed her eyes. She sighed and wiped the dampness away, shaking her head.
"Should you need any help, Miss..."
"I must get my affairs sorted here, and then will be returning to my homestead. Unless a carriage is to be offered, I'm afraid there is nothing anyone can do."
The officer nodded and gave Shati only a few reassuring words before leaving her to, presumably, give someone else horrible news. The farmer collapsed to the trunk just beside Fillin and sighed, putting her face in her hands.
"It will be alright," he assured his Grimm, certain that it would be. What all had they gone through, and to let a little destruction get in their way? He was, however, privately glad that they had left when they did. Shati remained silent, wallowing for the time being in dread and mourning.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
