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Miss Chief aka Uke rolled 5 100-sided dice:
26, 51, 3, 65, 76
Total: 221 (5-500)
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 Posted: Sat Jan 09, 2016 11:35 am
 Character: Malikai
Stage: Expert
Luck: 37
Creature: Vispirii Soldier x 35
Success Rate: 31 - 100
Win x 26: 1,170exp
Loss x 9: 203exp
Total: 1,373exp, Levels to 60 with 50/60 exp left over, +90 stat points to distribute, +30 Oozing Poison Gland
Word Count Required: 10,500+
Final Word Count: 10,527
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Posted: Sat Jan 09, 2016 1:40 pm
Malikai had always felt a certain affinity for hastars. Beasts in general, he supposed—at least those of tamed varieties—but hastars in particular. For all their size, they were often skittish creatures, loyal and dutiful but nervous and in need of frequent reassurances and a careful hand, which he considered to be a relatable nature. He remembered to this day his first attempts at riding one—an experience so long past now, it felt almost more like a distant dream than a memory. He shook his head, dusting the thought away for the time being and patting his hand down the neck of the hastar before him instead as he turned his focus to the present.
Just over two weeks had passed since his excursion into Tukyere’s center-city garden with Naarhiji. Despite the impending threat of an altercation between himself and the boy’s uncle at the time, though—or at least what had felt like a threat of such a thing—the brothel owner had not approached him since, and on the two occasions where he had found his way to the establishment to engage in more routine ‘business’ ventures with Naarhiji, the older man had either not been present or simply not made himself seen. Malikai had since dismissed the night’s interaction as a misunderstanding on his part of the man’s actual level of displeasure with him, and a likely fluke.
He had spent the time in between waiting for a proper opportunity for, and implementing, the setup for the current occasion: two hastars, his for the evening, bridaled and rubbed down in preparation for a ride. It didn’t seem as though it would likely be a strenuous ride by any means. Naarhiji didn’t seem the sort who would be fond of such a thing even if he were an experienced rider—which he purportedly was not. But that didn’t mean they oughtn’t be prepared.
It was mid-afternoon, the sun hovering at perhaps the three quarter mark above the skyline, one notch down from high noon. The season, though, leant just enough of a chiller note to the air that it was not blisteringly hot as it might otherwise have been, and the wind blew in warm gusts over the sand. Malikai tried not to fidget.
Overall, it was a ridiculous idea.
Other than having been mildly intoxicated at the time—and having very little to lose, he supposed—it seemed a fairly preposterous thing to ask a prostitute out anywhere in anything even resembling a ‘date’-esque atmosphere. Then again, after a moonlit walk in a garden, few things toed closer to the line, and Naarhiji never had requested payment for that night. Yet, despite having asked again to reaffirm Naar’s interest and then informing the younger man of where and when they could meet in order to best avoid hassle, Malik still found himself concerned that a last minute change of heart would come into play.
Naarhiji would realize how silly it was, how genuinely out of line this portion of Malik’s invitation was, and how far beyond standard practice. A brush of his fingers to his chin—and the ‘surprise’ that kept coming on such occasions when he was reminded by the smooth skin there that he had indeed shaved—made his cheeks warm, and he grunted, dropping his hand back to his side.
He wasn’t actually sure what he was doing, or where he thought he was leading himself, but perhaps—perhaps it didn’t really matter so much. He did enjoy the time with Naarhiji, after all, and surely, for however long it lasted, there was nothing wrong with that, ‘standards’ be damned.
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Posted: Mon Jan 11, 2016 4:29 pm
There was certainly no denying the peculiarness of the situation. Even if he’d gone out with a client before, it wasn’t quite the same as going out with Malikai. He’d never distinctly dated, well, anyone. Not that he expressly thought he was ‘dating’ Malik, either. It just seemed like this is what it would feel like if he was. And this was the type of thing they’d do if they were. It was less ‘dating’ and more like an experimental toe-dip into doing something he would’ve done if he hadn’t left Soudul. Akin to going to a new place or trying a new food.
Yum, dating. Tastes like leklan.
Naarhiji groaned softly and shook his head. This was idiotic. There was too much thought going into it when there didn’t need to be. What did he care one way or the other if the night- day, it was afternoon- day turned out less exciting than either of them would’ve liked? He threaded fingers through his hair, lightly weaving his wavy tendrils into a loose braid over his shoulder. That was fortunately, if not disappointingly, the extent of his primping preparations. Outdoor activities didn’t seem to merit much by way of makeup or loose-fitting, practically nonexistent clothes. He glanced at himself in the full-length mirror hung by his closet.
Absolutely ridiculous.
This was not how he was supposed to look. It certainly wasn’t how he was used to looking. Boring. Flat. Normal. Like everyone else. And now, because he found the whole thing aesthetically displeasing- grumpy. No. It wouldn’t do. Naar decided he didn’t rightly care what was customary for the outdoors. If he wanted to dust glitter in his hair, clip tiny gem studs to his earlobes, and wear one bracelet (even if it couldn’t be seen past the sleeves of his coat), he was going to. And that would just have to be that.
Better, Naar decided, even if it still felt abnormal and odd. But then, the whole thing was, wasn’t it? Everything he did with Malikai was ‘abnormal and odd,’ because Malikai was an ‘abnormal and odd’ person. He didn’t need to question it farther than that.
He made to snap the lid of his jewelry box shut, but before the action met its conclusion, Naar’s gaze flicked over a piece that generally went ignored. Wearing a tiara to bed was just asking for his hair to be caught up and tangled and pulled in the many intricate twisting angles the metals and gems offered. It wasn’t large or heavy or particularly thick, though it was still more ostentatious than was usually necessary. He tapped his finger to the top of it and couldn’t help but recall the garden. Again. Because that time did have a way of leaping to the forefront of his memories sporadically and without regard for anyone else he happened to be with at the time. “You c’n be th’ loveliest of all the princesses in th’ stories you read about…”
If nothing else, Malik would surely find it humorous.
Naar huffed, settled the bejeweled tiara atop his head, and hopped quickly from the room. He’d surely spent enough time on his appearance by now, and he really didn’t want to make an already peculiar situation even more awkward by making Malikai wait.
Not that he expected the older Orderite to not wait for him. Still, it felt like he couldn’t walk quick enough to where he was told they’d meet.
“Malikai!” He called, upon seeing the other man standing and waiting for him. And really, he shouldn’t have been surprised to see the hastars already there, waiting with him. Naar approached more cautiously from that point, not feeling especially confident with his familiarity (or lack thereof) with most animals. At least they seemed plenty tame- plenty tolerant- as Naar stepped up to the other man’s side. “I feel like I don’t need to know the exact details of how you came into the possession of two hastars, but am I at least right to assume they aren’t yours?”
Not that it made any difference one way or the other, he supposed. Malikai would surely (hopefully) have a great many things tell tell him about the beast’s soon enough.
Instead he stepped in, perching up and forward to lay a light peck of a kiss to Malik’s lips. And it wasn’t until contact and lack of abrasive, rough hairs scratching back at him, that Naar stilled, leaned back, and blinked. “You… shaved. It’s-” ’Odd. You don’t even look like the same person.’ But the corners of his mouth threatened to tug up anyway. “Nice. You look very nice. Like a respectable knight.” Grinning, he tipped forward and kissed him again.
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Posted: Mon Jan 11, 2016 7:25 pm
Malikai wouldn’t have said he was worried—not truly worried, in any case. For better or for worse, he did expect that Naarhiji would show up. Certainly, he trusted that he wouldn’t say he would, and then not. It didn’t seem, in his experience, to be the way the younger man operated. If he didn’t want a thing, he would have said so.
Still, in the minimal waiting period, a certain amount of anxiousness came with the unknown, expecting, hoping, and anticipating.
Then, Naarhiji came into view. The quiet period of metaphorically ‘bated breath’ ended. Malikai beamed in spite of himself. Immediately after, he cleared his throat, flushing as though abashed at quite how instinctively his body had responded.
“I—ah…” He blinked. Yes, of course: the hastars. His attention flit then, for a moment, to Naarhiji again, taking in the barest edge of caution added to his approach the nearer he got to them, and Malikai’s smile eased into something softer and more subtly encouraging. “Aye, well, they’re not mine, mine, no. I ‘ave an old beauty o’ my own back at home, but these…” He took a step towards Naarhiji, laying the tips of his fingers loosely at the younger man’s hip—supportive, he hoped, “…are Keno, and Abdullah.” He gestured as he identified them.
They were warhorses, technically, but of the stock generally used for moving troops and goods, not carrying them into battle. Regardless, it made for a steady temperament: used to all variety of riders and burdens, and not easily startled. Bred to be prepared for most anything, and solid. Naarhiji, Malikai figured, did not need to know the full extent of their uses, but would benefit, at least, from a little background.
“The darker one, Keno, is male, just a bit older ‘n Abdu is, and they’re used t’ all sorts o’ folk on their back. So, so long as y’ don’ hurt ‘em, you’re not likely t’ surprise ‘em. Very strong, too. I got leave t’ use ‘em for the evenin’ and…” Malikai paused at the kiss, a flush creeping back up his cheeks in spite of himself.
It shouldn’t have surprised him. Didn’t really, and yet—well, he supposed he hadn’t known what to expect, and had tried not to assume. There was, though, something ridiculously pleasing about the fact that Naarhiji took well to the shave. The commentary did spurn him to take a second look at Naarhiji’s choice of attire, though, inviting comment, and his gaze took in the ‘unique’ outfit so far as Naarhiji was concerned: practical boots, pants, top, a bracelet there, a simple braid, and—
Malikai’s lips twitched, amusement warming in his expression. He almost, but managed not to laugh, coughing instead on a quiet sound in his throat. His look remained genuine and friendly. “I’ll take it,” he said at length, “tha’ this…” He brushed fingers up just along Naarhiji’s hair, near to the base of the tiara, “…is your highness’ royal crown?” Still smiling, he took up Naarhiji’s hand, lifting his fingers and touching a kiss to the tips—for that was how regality was treated, was it not? “Y’ look very much th’ part, an’ lovely as always, princess. I’ll help you up, mm?”
It was, in a peculiar way, genuinely refreshing, Malik thought, to see the younger man in ‘normal’ clothes. As flattering as his more typical attire was, the practical dress leant something more real to the situation in a way hard to define succinctly. But, he decided privately, he liked it.
“I know y’ said you’d never ridden one on your own a’fore, an’ if you’d rather, we can still ride just th’ one together. But if you’re up for it, I think you’ll find y’ have a bit more fun an’ freedom if you’re guidin’ your own beast.” Malikai stepped up beside Abdullah as he spoke, glancing to Naarhiji and offering a hand again. “Ready?”
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Posted: Mon Jan 18, 2016 10:47 am
Naar fidgeted restlessly, notching toward Malikai’s touch as the other man named off his beasts and assured him they weren’t easily spooked. He really did want to believe it. There was no reason he shouldn’t. Malik knew more about them and would certainly never knowingly lie to him. Yet Naar found it difficult not to be wary of anything taller and heavier than him, with larger and sharper teeth. He reached a hand out slowly, hesitantly toward Keno as Malik introduced him. But when the haster whickered and dipped forward to sniff, Naar decided better of it and edged away. He couldn’t stop himself from muttering, “I expect they probably aren’t used to carrying Oblivionites...”
Not that a hastar would know or care about the difference, presumably, despite Naarhiji’s hesitation toward war-bred beasts. They didn’t rightly look any more imposing than the one he’d ridden with Kaylinth. The adventure would likely not be very much different with Malik as a companion instead. He hoped.
His attention flicked quickly back up to said companion at the choke of a sound Malik made. Smiling. Amused? He definitely looked amused while Naar faced this very-real looming crisis of guiding a predatory animal while they went- He didn’t rightly know where they were going or what they hoped to achieve in such a locale. No matter.
He huffed, and his hands were immediately on his hips. “You might as well go on and laugh,” he informed Malikai flippantly, tossing a hand into the air in mock irritation. But Naar relaxed a second later, tipping his head slightly into the brush of the other man’s fingers and humming softly. “I’d hoped you would, after all. I only wore it for you. I don’t really think I’m much of anyone else’s ‘princess.’” A sigh slipped out of him, and he skimmed his fingers against Malik’s now-smooth cheek after the initial brush of a kiss to his fingers. “Silly man,” he scoffed playfully.
From there, he didn’t have much choice but to shift his focus back to the hastars. ‘Wary’ felt like an extremely subdued word for what he was actually feeling, but for the most part, he trusted Malik’s judgement. He followed the other man up to Abdullah’s side, and at sensing no immediate agitation from the creature, decided he’d probably be fine. He’d seen people ride. It didn’t look all that hard, and if they were used to all manner of riders that didn’t know what they were doing, anyway- He nodded. “Yes,” Naar decided after a moment. “I’ll give it a try. But you’re not going to run off or make them do anything- Well, anything, are you? Because so help me, Malikai, if you do anything weird or unsavory or if I get hurt or lost or if you leave my sight and storm off like some dumb hero, I won’t ever speak to you again. I swear.”
With his piece said, Naar allowed himself to be helped up onto the haster’s back. There might have been some fumbling and clamoring to right himself, and the flurry of movement made him all the more antsy that the creature wouldn’t take well to it. Besides what sounded suspiciously like a scoff and a shift of her weight, Abdullah didn’t seem fazed. Naar plucked at her reigns in such a way that he’d seen others do, and tossed a glance back at Malik. “If there’s some all-problem-solving abort tactic, I should like to know it.”
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Posted: Mon Jan 18, 2016 12:31 pm
‘I only wore it for you.’
As fast as the words left Naarhiji’s mouth, any ridiculousness associated with the tiara dissipated, leaving only the highest of compliments in its wake. Malikai’s ears warmed accordingly. There was something particular, too, about being assured that there was no one else to whom Naarhiji was a ‘princess’ — which seemed counter-intuitive, given his profession and general mannerisms — but Malikai was not about to argue. Instead, he focused on the task at hand, amusement returning for altogether different reasons as Naarhiji ‘threatened’ him, should he try anything weird or unsavory.
“No funny business,” he agreed. “No droppin’ you, no leavin’ you lost in the gardens, and no—” He paused there as he helped to hoist Naar up, “—ridin’ off into the sunset or a sandstorm without you, or you’ll never forgive me and see to it that all fond things in my life cease t’ be. I think I got it.” Patting the hastar’s flank as Naarhiji situated himself—and then Naarhiji’s rear once, because he could—Malikai moved off to the other beast. After bracing one hand near its saddle and giving an initial test pull to see that it was indeed secure, he fit a foot up into the stirrup, let his wings unfold from his back, and hefted.
One powerful beat of them only aided in the hard-earned fluidity of the motion, now well practiced, and a moment later, he was settled as he spared Naarhiji a glance. “So far as ‘abort’ tactics are concerned, ahh…” He glanced out over the rolling sands beyond the city limits as he took up the reins, thoughtful. “Well, in th’ instance I feel the real need for it, I suppose I’d fly up an’ out o’ the way, but…” His gaze moved back to Naarhiji as he tucked his wings in behind himself. ‘Flying’ didn’t seem to be on the young oblivionite’s list of options. “I figure with you, we’ll just have t’ see to it that y’ feel no need to abort, mm? It’ll be fine, I promise.”
With that, he gave a small shift and tap of his reins, nudging the hastar into action while glancing to make sure that Naarhiji, too, had successfully gotten underway. Satisfied that he had, his attention split between the road forward — After making it out of the city, where did they want to go? — and his company. What was a safe topic of conversation, weather aside?
“I don’ think I’ve ever seen you in a full pair o’ trousers,” he said. “They look good on you…” After a fleeting glance, again, to Naarhiji’s tiara, he added: “How’ve things been goin’ in your, ah…kingdom, since my last visit? I got th’ sense your uncle wasn’t ‘special fond o’ me last I saw ‘im…or does ‘e seem t’ make a habit o’ glarin’ sour like at all his customers an’ I’ve just been missin’ out ‘til now?”
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Posted: Mon Jan 18, 2016 3:33 pm
From atop his hastar, Naar shot the other man a look; brows raised, eyes widened, lips pinched together. “You don’t really think there’ll be a sandsto- Heeey!” He griped as he shifted about in the saddle, reaching back to swat blindly at Malik’s arm and tugging at the reins as he did. Abdullah took a step back, and Naar’s fumbling turned immediately to a pursed glower. It was not the time or place for unannounced butt-pats. To be fair, there wasn’t anything wrong with the action, insomuch that Naar was already uncomfortable from where he was and much of anything unannounced wouldn’t do him any favors.
He groaned softly and turned his focus ahead again, relaxing his grip as much as he dared. “I don’t think I have the power to ruin all ‘fond things in your life,’” Naar grumbled as he watched Malik mount. And that process didn’t seem to take half the time it had taken him. There was certainly less fearful scrabbling at the saddle, hastar’s mane, and anything else that dared to come into contact with his fingers.
The quick stab of annoyance that came from a cripple making any physical activity look that smooth was promptly washed away by something that felt suspiciously like guilt. Guilt at wanting to see some form of struggle occur, for no reason besides that he wasn’t completely at ease himself. He swallowed and reached a hand up to smooth down the back of his hair, tangling fingers into his braid and tugging it over his shoulder. “...And I wouldn’t if I could. Sandstorm or no.”
Not that Malikai was doing much of anything to spare his feelings. Naar’s lids narrowed on the other man. No abort tactics. Of course not. Why would anyone make such a thing? It wasn’t as if they were customarily being led into battle or anything of the sort. Oh, wait- He huffed, scooted forward, gave a little knick of his toe to the hastar’s side, and a flick of reigns to encourage her after her companion. Either something worked or she was used to trailing just a couple paces in Keno’s wake. Naar couldn’t say for sure, but he suspected the latter.
He decided he didn’t want to know how often Malikai had been forced to use escape tactics.
And the change of topic was welcome, if not as equally unpleasant. “No,” Naar admitted slowly, glancing in Malik’s direction before focusing on the reins in his hands. “I feel fairly confident in saying he isn’t particularly thrilled by your repeated patronage. And as much as I’d like to say, ‘just hazarding a guess,’ that wouldn’t be entirely truthful, either.”
There was another round of fidgeting, not all directly attributed to his lack of familiarity riding haster-back. “He said he didn’t like me going anywhere with you. He doesn’t like it when we leave the brothel. Not that it matters.” He shot the last words crossly, and perched a bit straighter as he did. He had dignity or some such like that. He wasn’t about to act the child who would listen to anything his guardian said.
Not that he ever had.
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Posted: Tue Jan 19, 2016 10:11 am
“No,” Malikai answered, expression warm with amusement. “I don’ expect there’ll be a sandstorm…an’ I do appreciate you’d spare me a life of anguish even if y’ had the power to inflict it.” As they moved forward, however, and Naarhiji took to the subject change and answered him, a frown edged into place, his suspicions confirmed: Remalus had a particular, defined distaste for him specifically.
It was, if he were truly honest with himself, fair to some degree, he supposed.
He was not behaving as was generally considered appropriate for brothels. He likely shouldn’t have asked Naarhiji out anywhere to begin with—not even the gardens, when he had. It wasn’t his place, and he knew — even if Naarhiji was welcoming of it — that he was toeing the line and pushing the extent of what could be passed off as reasonable. And yet, he found himself of a mind not to care as much as he ought.
Inappropriate and presumptuous on his own part or no, he still held to his opinion that the brothel owner had laid the groundwork—he had let his brother’s child take up unsavory profession right under his very nose. Thus, even if his actions weren’t appropriate in terms of generally accepted ‘appropriate’ behavior towards whores, there was nothing he was doing that ought to fairly be considered worse than Naarhiji would get in terms of treatment from other men. Quite the opposite, even. And the more he came to know Naarhiji and care for his well-being, the less fond he became of his uncle’s ‘parenting’ choices.
“Aye…” Hazarding a glance towards Naarhiji, the corner of Malik’s lip edged back up, and the set of his shoulders relaxed in spite of himself. Naarhiji had shown up. He did continue to agree to their various excursions and detours from more common and appropriate interactions. In the end, that mattered a good deal more than the disfavor of one more older oblivionite whose opinions he cared decidedly less about. “It doesn’t look as though you figure it matters a great lot. And I don’ suppose I have much reason t’ care either…so long as I don’ offend his sensibilities enough t’ where he sees fit not t’ let me back in…” As they moved out of the immediate city limits and into more open terrain, Malikai eyed the open desert, and then looked again to his company, his smile spreading into something closer to a grin. “What’s th’ fastest you’ve ever ridden?”
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Posted: Tue Jan 19, 2016 12:09 pm
They actually weren’t terribly horrible creatures, whether he was riding alone or not. He’d even say Abdullah was kind of pretty when her teeth weren’t facing him. What with that long, dark mane that Naar was just almost brave enough to shift his attention to and touch, and the slow, easy ripple of her strides. But no, he kept his hands on the reins (for all the good it did him) and his gaze trained on Malikai’s back. He still expected there was more to the ride than easy desert strolling.
He made a soft, hissing noise that was just as likely to be carried off by the wind as it was to reach his companion’s ears at Malik’s commentary. “I’m not even sure it’d matter too much if he didn’t let you back in,” Naarhiji scoffed. “If you still wanted to see me, you could just ask. It’s not like I’ve said ‘no,’ yet.” All the more reason not to if it pissed someone off. The more pressing concern would be if Naar couldn’t go out.
Not that the younger man could fathom a way this would be enforced, outside of verbal warnings. And as such, it hardly merited mentioning.
Instead he gave what he hoped was an encouraging tug and soft ’tsktsktsk’ sound to encourage his mount closer up to the other man’s side, enough to survey the lands ahead as Malik tossed him an all-too-discomforting grin. “Probably about a slow trot,” Naar responded warily, shooting the man a look from narrowed lids. Obviously, if Malik’s smile was any indication, that wasn’t enough. Naarhiji huffed and groaned softly. “Go on, then,” he griped, flicking his fingers ahead of him. “Might as well get it over with.”
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Posted: Tue Jan 19, 2016 1:23 pm
Malikai spared Naarhiji a glance, startled in spite of himself. Perhaps it shouldn’t have surprised him. Naarhiji was right, of course. He hadn’t said ‘no’ once yet, including to their current excursion which was well beyond even ‘pushing’ the limits of normal. Yet, he was. Surprised, and far more pleased than he had any right to be.
“Of course I would want t’ see you,” he answered at length, quieter and probably only just audible over the desert gusts. “I think tha’…” ‘…seeing you is the best thing happening to me at the moment.’ Malikai hesitated, letting the thought turn over several times before amending the actual words used to: “I’ve grown to fond of doin’ so t’ give it up real easy.”
His expression relaxed, though, at the end and the topic shift. Naarhiji’s combined expression and body language told him all he needed to know about the younger man’s initial opinion of the idea of running the beasts—but that was alright. New things came with occasional trepidation, but he hadn’t known anyone yet who was truly adverse to and unfond of riding a hastar into a full run. Few things compared.
“Y’ don’ need t’ be nervous,” he said, encouraging his mount into a gradually faster pace. “Y’ ease into it, gettin’ ‘er used t’ pickin’ up her pace an’ gettin’ accustomed yourself t’ the feel of it, an’ then…when y’ feel you can…”
Malikai lead by example.
First a slow trot, then a little push so that beneath him, Keno’s muscles rippled, body flexing forward and picking up the pace. ‘One, two, three, four…’ In the span of a handful of seconds, the hastar was in a full, driving gallop over the sands, and at his back, Malikai’s wings hooked up and then beat down, like oars in wind, driving them on. Though his pulse sped with the rush of it, however, and he realized he had not ridden a hastar to speed for the thrill of it alone in — years? — neither did not want to leave Naarhiji in his wake. So he managed his pace, tossing a glance to see how the younger man was faring.
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Posted: Wed Jan 20, 2016 9:16 am
By the time Abdullah trotted up to Keno’s side, Naar felt just barely over the cusp of being brave enough to reach out and touch his fingers to Malikai’s arm. Not what he was aiming for, of course, but tugging on his hair or ear or much of anything seemed bound to lead to unsatisfactory results. He settled for what he had, and shot his companion a quick, hopefully reassuring smile. “Regardless, it’s not something worth worrying over,” he retorted offhandedly.
It was not precisely something that could be said for speeding across waves of shifting sand, despite Malik’s assurances that he ‘didn’t need to be nervous.’ Naar whined softly as the other man goaded his haster into a quick trot, a canter, and a full gallop. Needless to say, Naarhiji was less enthusiastic about the whole practice. He muttered off a quick encouragement, pinched his knees in, and flicked at Abdu’s reins.
‘Uncomfortable’ was the first word that came to mind when his hastar’s pace hit above an average walk. There was an awful lot of bump, shift, and bounce that Naar found distinctly unpleasant and could only wonder why anyone deemed this an acceptable mode of travel. Perhaps all that extra cushion on Malikai’s figure protected him from any great discomfort.
Abdullah was apparently very eager to keep pace with Keno. On a normal day, maybe Naar wouldn’t have minded. He didn’t exactly want to lose or be left behind or left alone with this mostly unfamiliar beast.
As it stood, the great amount of jostling had managed to disentangle his foot from the stirrups, and when he shifted to perch forward and adjust his seating, his body wasn’t quite prepared for the lack of support off to his left side. Naarhiji yelped, fingers clawing at reins and mane and saddle and anything else as he weight swayed over. He yanked on Abdu’s reigns as he tipped, and was rewarded with a staggered step and sharp toss of her head that only served to rip Naar harder from the saddle and land him in a short spray of erupted sand.
He’d never appreciated the desert as much as he did now.
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Posted: Wed Jan 20, 2016 11:11 am
Malikai was not distinctly good at a great many things. Or certainly not to the extent that he would consider his proficiency to rise to the level of a ‘talent.’ Riding was no exception. He was, however, very practiced at it, comfortable with it, and good enough that it felt natural and easy. It had been some time since he’d gone riding with anyone who couldn’t or hadn’t had the practice, and in retrospect, he perhaps shouldn’t have pushed for a run. Naarhiji would likely be sore enough from endeavor as it was. That thought, though, came too late.
Malikai got far enough to appreciate that Naarhiji was at least attempting to keep up, and not even doing poorly at that. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, though — to give Naarhiji respect and pleasant surprise for pushing outside his comfort zone — then things took their downward turn. In a very literal sense, in Naarhiji’s case.
Malikai had just begun to slow his pace and just looked as the fumble began, continued, and ended with a miffed hastar and a soft thhwwwp of Naarhiji’s body hitting sand. His first genuine reaction was concern, a stutter-throb of his pulse beating to his chest as he slowed his own beast down with a, “Wooahhh, shhhhhh-tshhh-tshhh…” and guided Keno into a turn to trot back up beside Naarhiji. A quick glance though, combined with having witnessed the manner of the fall, convinced Malik almost immediately that nothing had gone seriously wrong. Just a novice mistake, and a clean fall onto forgiving terrain. The set of his shoulders relaxed, and something that teased the limits of definitely-not-smiling edged into his expression.
“My apologies, highness,” he said, clearing his throat and dismounting with a flick and stretch of his wings behind him as his boots hit sand. “I shouldn’t ‘ave suggested we gallop just yet, as it does seem you might could have done well with a bit more time gettin’ accustomed t’ this variety of ridin’. Was my fault, mm?” Coming up at his company’s side, he offered a hand. His eyes, though, still found time to trail down Naarhiji’s prone form, from tousled green hair in the sand down to his boots. “If it’s any comfort, y’ still make a sight to appreciate on your back like tha’. You’re alright, aye?”
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Posted: Wed Jan 20, 2016 2:08 pm
’It could’ve been worse,’ Naarhiji’s mind reasoned immediately after the initial burst of distraught horror as he hit the ground. Despite it being an uncomfortable landing to say the least (one that ripped any lingering shred of oxygen from his lungs and turned the edges of his vision to fog), the drop wasn’t particularly high, the ground wasn’t particularly hard, and later he’d realize that he wasn’t particularly hurt.
Later, but not now.
In the moment, he was all but positive he’d broken his shoulder, and his hip, and his spine, and he couldn’t breathe, which was probably the most immediate cause for alarm. Never mind the whispering fear lurking in the back of his thoughts that he was about to be stepped on because he was laying on the ground next to an unhappy hastar. But he wasn’t dead. ‘It could’ve been worse.’
A stuttered gasp of sound slipped from Naar’s lips as he tried to regain normal function of his body. And directly on its heels came the most pitiful string of chopped whimpers. He choked, flopped to his side, and pressed himself up onto his hands and knees. There was a moment of fearful limb twitching and body shuffling, just to be sure that he still could despite the blossoming pain and heat and mental insistence that he shouldn’t. Fine, not broken. Satisfied that he wasn’t deathly injured, a new, unbidden, and entirely unwanted emotion lept into the fray: complete and utter embarrassment.
What kind of idiot just dropped straight into the desert sands from a slow run? Naar sucked his bottom lip between his teeth to keep it from trembling as he glared at Malikai. “Don’t,” He smacked the other man’s hand away, “touch me. Don’t laugh at me.” He swept the brunt of the sandy grains from his pants and shirt, then stood, glowering first at the ground, then back to Malikai, then off in the direction from which they’d come. They couldn’t have traveled that far.
Swallowing, Naar wrapped his arms around himself and took his first very unhappy, stiff steps. “I’m going home.”
He made it perhaps all of ten feet before he pulled his gaze from the sand and back to the distance ahead. As well as a wavering black dot in the sky. Probably a hallucination or a trick of his likely-still-confused vision. It seemed purposeless, unimportant, and completely harmless. A trick of the light. He took another few steps. Whatever it was in that flowy, rhythmic circling ceased in that moment. Its course shifted. The dot took actual shape. It obtained color. But the rapidity with which it increased in size was what Naar found most alarming. Naarhiji stilled. “Malikai?” He tossed the name over his shoulder.
A bug, it was definitely a bug. Flying at him. With some awakened sense of purpose. He was decidedly less excited about this than he was about returning to the hastar. Naar turned on his heel and skittered backward. “Malikai!”
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Posted: Wed Jan 20, 2016 3:36 pm
Malikai winced.
Of course, seeing Naarhiji move was a good start. He’d been sure the boy hadn’t hurt himself — not from the way he fell, at the speed they’d been going, onto soft sand — but there had still been a splinter of concern there. Falling from a moving beast was not comfortable under any circumstances, and there was ample room for damage. Still. Naarhiji was moving, was speaking and he—did not look pleased. About anything. He did not sound pleased either, and the small bubble of amusement at the situation popped, guilt needling its way back in and a tight knot of concern bunching with it.
“Naarhiji—sorry,” he blurted. “‘M sorry, I won’t—” He brought his hand back to himself. “I wasn’t laughin’, I—I was glad you weren’t hurt fair bad as you could ‘ave been. It’ll be a long ways t’ go without-!”
But Naarhiji had already started pacing off, and Malik released a stiff breath, still frowning. More things lingered on his mind to say. ‘I’m sorry.’ Again. A hundred times. ‘We can ride back together if you please, and I’ll make sure you don’t fall off.’ ‘It will be faster if you get back on the hastar.’ All of these and more were there to say, and he almost certainly would have voiced at least one, if not all of them over the course of time it would have taken to lead both hastars back and trail alongside his company to assure himself that the boy didn’t hurt himself.
None of that happened, however, because before Naarhiji even called for him, Malik’s attention caught on something in the distance. Naarhiji’s head was down, but in front of him—far in front and circling out from one of the rocky earthen stacks of the desert—was something else entirely.
Vispirii.
The realization came paired with Naarhiji’s first tentative call, such that by the time the second one came — higher pitched, louder, far more insistent and paired with a skittered run towards him — Malikai was already moving, spitting a swear beneath his breath and touching a hand to the hilt of his blade. Ever present, thank the goddess. His hand made it to Naarhiji’s side, eyes on the approaching company.
What was the best way to handle this?
He drew a breath. “Alright, ‘m goin’ to need you t’ stay behind me, stay out o’ th’ way o’ them an’ me, but near enough I c’n see you—by the hastars, a’right? An’ if you get a chance—” ‘—run and ride them out to safety.’ Already, though, the mounting buzz of the oncoming hoard made it harder to be heard, and given Naarhiji’s relative proficiency at riding hastars, this was the worst possible time to have a potential mistake made when out of his range of protection.
So, he left that as it was, spread his wings as he stepped in front of Naarhiji, and drew his blade.
One, two, three, four…
Too many.
Malikai let his blade’s tip touch to the sand, outstretched at his side as he waited. One second. Two. As soon as the first of them were in range, driving down, he beat his wings, lifting off, up, and driving his weapon into the first of the swarm. He’d never been fond of bugs.
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Posted: Fri Jan 22, 2016 7:46 am
What?
Naarhiji’s attention swiveled up to Malik’s face as soon as soon as the man started speaking. Speaking purely unnecessary and dangerous nonsense. Because to Naar, it sounded suspiciously like he was planning to stay, hold his ground, and fight a bunch of large, buzzing, fluttering, poisonous bugs. But surely he was reading the situation wrong. They had two hastar, an open desert to escape to, and no one else was around to be injured. Just the two of them. Maybe he could’ve expected as much if there was a village that needed protection, or a little old lady trapped under a rock that needed saving. But as it stood, there was no point in staying at the risk of-
“No, Malikai,” Naarhiji whimpered, pressing to the older man’s chest and pushing encouragingly, hopefully backward. It probably wasn’t the time or place to argue with him, since Malik damn well looked as though his mind was made up, but the impending threat of violence only served to add a higher pitch to Naar’s voice and a desperate urgency to his shoving. “We don’t need to stay. You’re going to get hurt! There’s a bunch of them and one of you, and nothing to be gained, so- Don’t-!” He yipped, reaching and clinging to the back of Malik’s shirt as he stepped away and in front of Naar.
For all the handful of seconds that passed between those words and the next, Naar found limited success in his shoving and complaining. “You have to listen to your princess- I’m warning you-! You better not- Malikai!” There was a ruffle of wings that nudged him back, followed by a harsher snap of wind and rush of sand blustering against his legs that signaled Malikai’s departure.
“You big idiot!” Naar screeched. Followed by a long, high, infuriatedly frustrated scream.
“Fine. Fine! Stupid man!” He huffed and whipped around, scurrying back to the hastar and spitting obscenities all the way. “Dummy! You better be careful, then! Reckless, careless, doofus!” His gaze flicked up warily to their mounts as he reached for Abdu’s reigns. She wickered, tossed her head, and pawed at the sand. Agitated. Naar whimpered. Maybe they were used to carrying all kinds of things and being around a great many types of people. Neither seemed pleased to be bared down upon by a swarm of insects. They fidgeted. And it made Naar all the more nervous about tangling his fingers in their reins.
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