Novruz, 128PW
“What?” Soneya looked at Martha incredulously. “You want me to what?”
“Now, don’t be difficult, Soneya. It’s only a small errand I need you to run, nothing more.” The elderly woman said, slightly exasperated at having to explain herself to the thirteen year old. If it wasn’t a favour she was doing the girl’s parents to keep her occupied, she wouldn’t have bothered with the girl. She was completely and utterly hopeless. Scatterbrained, always headaches and lost in her own little world, a world that barely coincided with the world actually surrounding her. Not that Martha was going to tell this to Soneya’s parents, after all the crazy Puradynes might just be Martha’s means to work herself up a tiny bit in the social hierarchy. It was a small hope, but it was a hope nonetheless.
“But it’s starting to be dark out, and it will be dark by the time I return. This is on the other side of the district and we’re in full Novruz festivities! What if I get robbed? What if...?!”
“Enough now, Soneya!” Martha said, raising her voice as she placed her hands on her hips. “Run the errand please, will you? It is not that difficult. Nothing will happen to you. I’m sure nobody will even pay attention to you as they will all be too busy enjoying themselves to pay attention to a little girl such as yourself. Now go!” She ushered the girl out of the door, placing a small bag of bishani into Soneya’s hand as she did so and then practically slamming the door in the girl’s face.
What else could she do? It wasn’t what she wanted, but she also knew that there was no way around it. If her parents got wind of her not doing what she was supposed to, there would be hell to pay. In that respect, she almost feared her parents, although she also knew that they only wanted the best for her. The sooner she learned to stay committed to the things she did, the better for her. It was a valuable lesson for life and she wasn’t about to throw that away.
So it was that Soneya found herself in the middle of the Novruz festivities, slightly scared, slightly grumpy and with a headache slowly starting to creep up on her due to crowds and noise, heading towards her destination, unsure if the person she was looking for was even going to be home at this time of day, especially during Novruz times. But Martha said the merchant was going to be there, thus Soneya hoped for the best and continued on her way without letting herself be too distracted by the sights Marn had at the ready to lure her away from her errand.
Collide
-
Qamra Kalara
- Outsider
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Fri Jul 19, 2013 12:54 am
- Name: aka Bishi
- Race: Mutt
Re: Collide
The orders had been specific. Excruciatingly specific. Qamra had glared at the woman who'd droned on with the dos and don'ts of her "condition", all the while returning Qamra's sullen expression with one of steely resolve. Qamra recognized the expression. She'd seen doctores who didn't hold so fierce a command. Those were men and women whose sole purpose in life was to train others how to kill, and what's more, find honor and glory in it. A little doctor who spent all her time saving lives and making boo-boos go away shouldn't have perfected such a menacing look, but there it was, matching Qamra pound for pound of intensity.
Too bad it didn't scare Qamra off her intent to sneak out as soon as she was able. She slipped her tongue along the sharp edges of her teeth, breathing heavily through her mouth as had been the common thing for her. Qamra had never been able to fully close her jaws together; the mish-mash of teeth that openly declared her dubious racial heritage prevented that. But still, she could breath through her nose if she chose -- until the condition that had landed her in the little dump of a town because road dust apparently was too much for her lungs to take. As if she was so weak.
Almost a year since she'd been dumped in the pitstop of a town, and according to the doctors she'd be there a few more. Words had been tossed around. Words like 'extensive damage' and 'life threatening illnesses'. Qamra didn't feel like an invalid on the brink of death, but according to her supposed saviors if she'd taken a single step out of the city without receiving medical attention she would have dropped dead from some "infection" to her lungs or something like that. If she hadn't been raised to respect the opinion of doctors and to listen to their instructions before going out onto the sands once more, she would have knocked their heads together and strode free. As it was, she'd watched the caravan leave without her.
She'd lost muscle tone. She'd lost fat she couldn't afford to lose. She was tall and skinny, a look that did not suit her in even the slightest bit, and her face was a haggard mess of pallid skin and deep circles. The doctor's claimed it was due to her body finally being allowed to expel toxins, and that it would get worse before it got better. She was sure they were lying sons of bitches who were fleecing her for every penny. Martialis, the bastard, had told her not to come back until she was fully recovered.
The accoutrements of her festivity get-up were banned from her. She had been dressed in dumpy invalid clothes that hung off her like she was some jinky scarecrow, her hair cut (something about it being dirty and impossible to wash out), and her jewelry confiscated, but it didn't matter. She knew there was a holiday going to start. The bedmates who'd come and gone couldn't shut up about it. Plans had started to form in her head once she'd gotten that first bit of news, and the lectures from the doctors had started shortly after. She was wasting away. Did they expect her to die in seclusion without a proper drink and conversation to see her way out? Fuck them.
An opportunity presented itself after dusk, when some group of idiots came in loudly talking about a scuffle or some such; normally violence would perk up her interest but right then she had things to do. Hospital objects were all traumatized by their long years of service to blood and death, which left her little recourse in getting their help. Stupid things. Still, she made it out more or less intact with more or less her ego where it should be.
Smells assaulted her when she hit the street. It wasn't that proper food was denied her in the hospital, but they had some funny idea about what was proper for her "recovery". Qamra had seen enough and lived enough to know that sometimes you had to enjoy what you had in front of you, and she wasn't about to forget it in favor of some trumped up stranger's idea of proper recovery, whether the idiot was a doctor or not.
Smoke. The smell of it, the feel of it, the awareness of it was the first thing to stand separate from the salivating smell of freshly cooked food. The city had something against fire, because they lit up their streets with electricity, of all things. Waste of perfectly good money, really, but it wasn't her money and it wasn't like she intended to become a resident. For this festival getup, though, they were burning torches, and that was something Qamra could get behind. She stopped in an eddy of foot traffic, reveling in the feeling of people bumping and brushing against her. Some time in the last decade or two she'd gotten soft. The edgy aloofness that ruled the personal space of a gladiator had been replaced with some city sucker who couldn't get enough of the push and shove, of the possibility that the next one might be a blade or a crushing blow. She'd gone soft in the favor of city excitement, even if the city in question was a little piece of shit in the grand scheme of things.
But the people were nothing compared to the greasy black smoke. She slowed and turned her face up to it, pulling back her lips to reveal the hideous, jagged mess of her teeth in a shameless grin. "Hullo," she said, uncaring of the people around her. "Nice to meet you."
Too bad it didn't scare Qamra off her intent to sneak out as soon as she was able. She slipped her tongue along the sharp edges of her teeth, breathing heavily through her mouth as had been the common thing for her. Qamra had never been able to fully close her jaws together; the mish-mash of teeth that openly declared her dubious racial heritage prevented that. But still, she could breath through her nose if she chose -- until the condition that had landed her in the little dump of a town because road dust apparently was too much for her lungs to take. As if she was so weak.
Almost a year since she'd been dumped in the pitstop of a town, and according to the doctors she'd be there a few more. Words had been tossed around. Words like 'extensive damage' and 'life threatening illnesses'. Qamra didn't feel like an invalid on the brink of death, but according to her supposed saviors if she'd taken a single step out of the city without receiving medical attention she would have dropped dead from some "infection" to her lungs or something like that. If she hadn't been raised to respect the opinion of doctors and to listen to their instructions before going out onto the sands once more, she would have knocked their heads together and strode free. As it was, she'd watched the caravan leave without her.
She'd lost muscle tone. She'd lost fat she couldn't afford to lose. She was tall and skinny, a look that did not suit her in even the slightest bit, and her face was a haggard mess of pallid skin and deep circles. The doctor's claimed it was due to her body finally being allowed to expel toxins, and that it would get worse before it got better. She was sure they were lying sons of bitches who were fleecing her for every penny. Martialis, the bastard, had told her not to come back until she was fully recovered.
The accoutrements of her festivity get-up were banned from her. She had been dressed in dumpy invalid clothes that hung off her like she was some jinky scarecrow, her hair cut (something about it being dirty and impossible to wash out), and her jewelry confiscated, but it didn't matter. She knew there was a holiday going to start. The bedmates who'd come and gone couldn't shut up about it. Plans had started to form in her head once she'd gotten that first bit of news, and the lectures from the doctors had started shortly after. She was wasting away. Did they expect her to die in seclusion without a proper drink and conversation to see her way out? Fuck them.
An opportunity presented itself after dusk, when some group of idiots came in loudly talking about a scuffle or some such; normally violence would perk up her interest but right then she had things to do. Hospital objects were all traumatized by their long years of service to blood and death, which left her little recourse in getting their help. Stupid things. Still, she made it out more or less intact with more or less her ego where it should be.
Smells assaulted her when she hit the street. It wasn't that proper food was denied her in the hospital, but they had some funny idea about what was proper for her "recovery". Qamra had seen enough and lived enough to know that sometimes you had to enjoy what you had in front of you, and she wasn't about to forget it in favor of some trumped up stranger's idea of proper recovery, whether the idiot was a doctor or not.
Smoke. The smell of it, the feel of it, the awareness of it was the first thing to stand separate from the salivating smell of freshly cooked food. The city had something against fire, because they lit up their streets with electricity, of all things. Waste of perfectly good money, really, but it wasn't her money and it wasn't like she intended to become a resident. For this festival getup, though, they were burning torches, and that was something Qamra could get behind. She stopped in an eddy of foot traffic, reveling in the feeling of people bumping and brushing against her. Some time in the last decade or two she'd gotten soft. The edgy aloofness that ruled the personal space of a gladiator had been replaced with some city sucker who couldn't get enough of the push and shove, of the possibility that the next one might be a blade or a crushing blow. She'd gone soft in the favor of city excitement, even if the city in question was a little piece of shit in the grand scheme of things.
But the people were nothing compared to the greasy black smoke. She slowed and turned her face up to it, pulling back her lips to reveal the hideous, jagged mess of her teeth in a shameless grin. "Hullo," she said, uncaring of the people around her. "Nice to meet you."
Re: Collide
The distractions were just… well… there quite simply were too many for Soneya to ignore. After all, she was still a rather young girl and the colourful and bright way the city centre had been decorated in celebration of Novruz was quite simply too appealing not to spend some time staring at it. Soneya stopped in her tracks in the middle of her path, without consideration of who might bump into her or not. A few curses sounded behind her as she did this, but she didn’t care. Her head was bent backwards as she stared up into the torch light, taking in the many lanterns and flickering lights hung all over the streets. It was a fantastic view!
When she lowered her head again, she still remained where she was, ignoring the fact that people were bumping into her and simply took in the view, the mish mash of smells and sounds. Her nose couldn’t quite make distinctions anymore between the various dishes that were being prepared but it all smelled wonderfully delicious and Soneya suddenly wished she was a few years older to be able to properly enjoy this holiday.
Alas, she did have an errand to run and there was no way around it. Martha would surely not be pleased if Soneya didn’t return soon-ish. Certainly, the woman wouldn’t mind waiting a bit longer, knowing that the young girl would take her time to have a look around, despite her fear of being robbed, abducted or whatnot. One could never be sure with all the magic users who were in Marn, even though magic wasn’t even allowed. Soneya couldn’t quite understand why these people didn’t just go away.
The mix of people out on the streets was even more fascinating than everything else combined. There were tall and tiny people, fat and skinny and there were the most intriguing looking creatures Soneya had ever seen, some of which she was sure weren’t even human. It was utterly fascinating and the girl would have liked to investigate a little but alas, she would have been way to scared to even get close to any of them. What if their weirdness – sometimes even ugliness – meant that they were magic users? Then she would most certainly be in danger, and that she could not afford to be. No, no. Better play it safe.
The more her thoughts lingered on the fact that there might be shapeshifters and illegal magicians roaming through the city, perfectly disguised by the ongoings of the festivities, Soneya began to feel the throb of her headache increased and a slight panic twisting her stomach into knots.
All of a sudden, the people bumping into her took on a more menacing feel and she started sweating, something that rarely happened to her. The feel of her clothes beginning to stick to her back and her hair began to plaster itself against her neck and her face as well. Instantly disliking this, Soneya frantically tried to get her head into a ponytail to keep it out of the way and ease her discomfort a little.
Not paying attention where she was stepping for a moment, Soneya felt someone’s elbow connect with her back and she stumbled forwards into someone else. This someone was just standing there, staring up into the smoke-polluted air. The girl’s eyes grew wide as she saw the – woman? it was hard to tell with the clothing and the very short hair – horribly toothy smile. “S- sorry!” she stuttered and immediately took a few steps back only to have someone bump into her and propel her two steps forward again, closer to… whoever this was. Had they been talking to themselves?!
When she lowered her head again, she still remained where she was, ignoring the fact that people were bumping into her and simply took in the view, the mish mash of smells and sounds. Her nose couldn’t quite make distinctions anymore between the various dishes that were being prepared but it all smelled wonderfully delicious and Soneya suddenly wished she was a few years older to be able to properly enjoy this holiday.
Alas, she did have an errand to run and there was no way around it. Martha would surely not be pleased if Soneya didn’t return soon-ish. Certainly, the woman wouldn’t mind waiting a bit longer, knowing that the young girl would take her time to have a look around, despite her fear of being robbed, abducted or whatnot. One could never be sure with all the magic users who were in Marn, even though magic wasn’t even allowed. Soneya couldn’t quite understand why these people didn’t just go away.
The mix of people out on the streets was even more fascinating than everything else combined. There were tall and tiny people, fat and skinny and there were the most intriguing looking creatures Soneya had ever seen, some of which she was sure weren’t even human. It was utterly fascinating and the girl would have liked to investigate a little but alas, she would have been way to scared to even get close to any of them. What if their weirdness – sometimes even ugliness – meant that they were magic users? Then she would most certainly be in danger, and that she could not afford to be. No, no. Better play it safe.
The more her thoughts lingered on the fact that there might be shapeshifters and illegal magicians roaming through the city, perfectly disguised by the ongoings of the festivities, Soneya began to feel the throb of her headache increased and a slight panic twisting her stomach into knots.
All of a sudden, the people bumping into her took on a more menacing feel and she started sweating, something that rarely happened to her. The feel of her clothes beginning to stick to her back and her hair began to plaster itself against her neck and her face as well. Instantly disliking this, Soneya frantically tried to get her head into a ponytail to keep it out of the way and ease her discomfort a little.
Not paying attention where she was stepping for a moment, Soneya felt someone’s elbow connect with her back and she stumbled forwards into someone else. This someone was just standing there, staring up into the smoke-polluted air. The girl’s eyes grew wide as she saw the – woman? it was hard to tell with the clothing and the very short hair – horribly toothy smile. “S- sorry!” she stuttered and immediately took a few steps back only to have someone bump into her and propel her two steps forward again, closer to… whoever this was. Had they been talking to themselves?!
-
Qamra Kalara
- Outsider
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Fri Jul 19, 2013 12:54 am
- Name: aka Bishi
- Race: Mutt
Re: Collide
The smoke was barely coherent, such was its apathy. Qamra wasn't surprised; in a town that denied everything but the physically apparent as being true, it only made sense that the remaining spirits had withdrawn and did not want to be roused. What was left to them? There was no spirituality in Marn, just as there had been a leavetaking of sense. Ahh, but old Bishi knew better, yes she did. Concentration was key. She breathed in the smoke, tasted its essence, and drew it towards her with tiny, gentle tugs.
She knew the rules. Beyond the iron band the doctors had put on her breathing, Marn had its head so far up its ass that it actively looked down on magic of any sort. Qamra had lived long enough to know the value of breaking the rules. A government did not have to be right. Certainly, to her mind, it was far from honorable.
She wriggled her toes over the bare ground, setting her stance to send her awareness into and around her. The spirit of the city was like a graveyard. Bones and rot, the remnants of bodies who had once lived their own lives. But even bones could burn, even --
Someone bumped into her. That wasn't in itself surprising. It was the size. For a moment, Qamra felt some hope that there were dwarves or gnomes in the city (she'd only seen elves and humans, though that didn't mean much considering she'd spent the vast majority of her time in a secluded hospital wing), but as she looked down she saw that it was just a puny human. No, it was a juvenile human. A little weakling, by the looks of her, all skin and bones and no muscle to swing a proper weapon. Changer's balls, she probably didn't even have a proper grip.
Qamra reached out casually, and snatched the girl's arm to drag her closer. The girl had said something, but in the clamor and buzz of the festival Qamra hadn't heard it. Or, if she had, she hadn't picked it up -- Qamra didn't care a whit about what a little human brat in the city had to say. "You. Take me to a tavern. No, the best tavern!"
Qamra's own voice was loud, loud enough by far to be heard over their surrounding neighbors. It was a blend of unidentifiable accents, all mushed together from years of distant travels, made unique by the effect her jutting lower jaw and small tusks had on her speech. Kids were always easiest to coerce into doing things. A shame Tabnit had grown out of the habit last time she'd been around, though Vitor had always been a good, docile boy. Unless you pissed him off.
She turned the girl so that she was pointing away from Qamra, and then leaned down to talk into her ear. She put some growl into her voice. "Now go."
Qamra collared her hand around the back of the girl's neck, feeling quite proud of herself for securing a runner.
She knew the rules. Beyond the iron band the doctors had put on her breathing, Marn had its head so far up its ass that it actively looked down on magic of any sort. Qamra had lived long enough to know the value of breaking the rules. A government did not have to be right. Certainly, to her mind, it was far from honorable.
She wriggled her toes over the bare ground, setting her stance to send her awareness into and around her. The spirit of the city was like a graveyard. Bones and rot, the remnants of bodies who had once lived their own lives. But even bones could burn, even --
Someone bumped into her. That wasn't in itself surprising. It was the size. For a moment, Qamra felt some hope that there were dwarves or gnomes in the city (she'd only seen elves and humans, though that didn't mean much considering she'd spent the vast majority of her time in a secluded hospital wing), but as she looked down she saw that it was just a puny human. No, it was a juvenile human. A little weakling, by the looks of her, all skin and bones and no muscle to swing a proper weapon. Changer's balls, she probably didn't even have a proper grip.
Qamra reached out casually, and snatched the girl's arm to drag her closer. The girl had said something, but in the clamor and buzz of the festival Qamra hadn't heard it. Or, if she had, she hadn't picked it up -- Qamra didn't care a whit about what a little human brat in the city had to say. "You. Take me to a tavern. No, the best tavern!"
Qamra's own voice was loud, loud enough by far to be heard over their surrounding neighbors. It was a blend of unidentifiable accents, all mushed together from years of distant travels, made unique by the effect her jutting lower jaw and small tusks had on her speech. Kids were always easiest to coerce into doing things. A shame Tabnit had grown out of the habit last time she'd been around, though Vitor had always been a good, docile boy. Unless you pissed him off.
She turned the girl so that she was pointing away from Qamra, and then leaned down to talk into her ear. She put some growl into her voice. "Now go."
Qamra collared her hand around the back of the girl's neck, feeling quite proud of herself for securing a runner.
Re: Collide
For a brief moment, Soneya was so completely and utterly stunned by the behaviour of the person she had bumped into that she didn’t know what to do when the latter suddenly dragged her towards them to take a closer look. Seemingly, the apology had not reached their ears either. And then, by the love of all that was mighty – what was that face? The tusks were almost shoved into the girl’s face when something was growled that she didn’t quite understand. Tavern? Something?
Before she knew what was happening to her, she had been shoved away again, ordered to move without having an idea of where it was she was supposed to be going, but without any clear thoughts in her mind and paralysed by fear of what would happen if she didn’t do as she was asked, Soneya started walking, desperately trying to ignore the feeling of a hand curled around her neck, though she couldn’t disguise the initial shudder that was running down her spine.
But where to? Where was it that she was supposed to be going? How was she supposed to know which tavern the stranger wanted to visit? She was only thirteen! Why was this happening to her? She knew something bad would happen, she had even told Martha! But the woman had refused to listen to her, waving off her comments as her being difficult. Now look at this mess!
Soneya was starting to get more and more worked up. Sweat was pouring down her spine by now and the hair which had managed to escape her attempt at making a ponytail before being bumped into was still lingering against her neck, literally plastered against it now, completely drenched. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes looked panicked, but she set one foot before the other as she was supposed to.
Still unsure of where to go.
Of course, this had to happen. Of course it had to. Her parents had always warned her that anything non-human was inherently evil. And what would this thing be if not something non-human? With those teeth... What was this stranger? From the sound of the voice she had thought to be able to deduct that it was a woman, but she wasn’t quite sure – how could she not even be sure?! How was this possible?
Why was this happening to her? Why? What had she done? She was not going to let herself be treated like that! Her parents had taught her better! Of course, her grandfather had always said that everyone deserved a chance, no matter which background they came from. But how could she give someone a chance when she was being manhandled like this? What did this person want from her? Why was she so rude?
Abruptly, Soneya stopped dead in her tracks, refusing to take another step until she got an answer. “Who are you? What do you want from me?” she asked, as she slowly turned around, not quite daring to lift her eyes towards the woman’s face. It had all sounded heroic in her head, but the truth of the matter was that Soneya was afraid, very afraid.
Before she knew what was happening to her, she had been shoved away again, ordered to move without having an idea of where it was she was supposed to be going, but without any clear thoughts in her mind and paralysed by fear of what would happen if she didn’t do as she was asked, Soneya started walking, desperately trying to ignore the feeling of a hand curled around her neck, though she couldn’t disguise the initial shudder that was running down her spine.
But where to? Where was it that she was supposed to be going? How was she supposed to know which tavern the stranger wanted to visit? She was only thirteen! Why was this happening to her? She knew something bad would happen, she had even told Martha! But the woman had refused to listen to her, waving off her comments as her being difficult. Now look at this mess!
Soneya was starting to get more and more worked up. Sweat was pouring down her spine by now and the hair which had managed to escape her attempt at making a ponytail before being bumped into was still lingering against her neck, literally plastered against it now, completely drenched. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes looked panicked, but she set one foot before the other as she was supposed to.
Still unsure of where to go.
Of course, this had to happen. Of course it had to. Her parents had always warned her that anything non-human was inherently evil. And what would this thing be if not something non-human? With those teeth... What was this stranger? From the sound of the voice she had thought to be able to deduct that it was a woman, but she wasn’t quite sure – how could she not even be sure?! How was this possible?
Why was this happening to her? Why? What had she done? She was not going to let herself be treated like that! Her parents had taught her better! Of course, her grandfather had always said that everyone deserved a chance, no matter which background they came from. But how could she give someone a chance when she was being manhandled like this? What did this person want from her? Why was she so rude?
Abruptly, Soneya stopped dead in her tracks, refusing to take another step until she got an answer. “Who are you? What do you want from me?” she asked, as she slowly turned around, not quite daring to lift her eyes towards the woman’s face. It had all sounded heroic in her head, but the truth of the matter was that Soneya was afraid, very afraid.
-
Qamra Kalara
- Outsider
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Fri Jul 19, 2013 12:54 am
- Name: aka Bishi
- Race: Mutt
Re: Collide
The girl was clearly not used to doing much form of exercising. Qamra could tell this by the amount of fluid rubbing against her palm from the back of the girl's neck. The season hadn't even truly started to warm up (Quijas wasn't ever so imperfectly cold), and the crowd was not throwing off enough heat to warrant so much sweat. Qamra wasn't in such wonderful a position herself, being considered a cripple unable to move on her own two feet, but at least she had an excuse. A thirteen year old should have been trained in endurance for long enough that such a small stroll should not tire.
Marn was incredibly backwards, and it was disgusting.
Then the girl turned on her. Qamra was beginning to feel the strain of the walk on her lungs. Soneya's words were greeted by a prolonged fit of coughing. Qamra bent over a little, the muscle of her stomach bunching under the fat she'd gained while sitting on her ass so much, and finally managed to produce the mucous from her lungs. She spat it out onto the ground, hitting some passerby's leg and spattering Soneya's calf with some of the excess saliva.
Disatisfied, Qamra snorted and hawked up another globule of mucous, spitting this one in a much straighter line down to the ground, where it splattered and was promptly stepped on. Ahhh, crowds. Home to any number of body fluids, including -- yes, Qamra saw it over there -- a man pissing right off the side of the street. By the night's end she was sure there would be at least one poor woman or two doing the ol' squat and release.
Thus amused, she turned her attention back down to Soneya. Her hand had shifted off the girl's neck and down to her shoulder. She gave her a little shake, lips turning down and curving oddly around her pronounced teeth. "Are you stupid, girl? Did I pick a retard or are you just hard of hearing? Booze. Good booze. I don't drink shitty brackish water some of you people try to pass for alcohol. Now, chitling, was that too hard for you to understand or should I speak louder and slower?"
As Qamra was speaking she caught someone looking at her midway through her lecture. She rolled her shoulders back and glared, folding her lips in a wolfish smile that revealed her teeth. Once she'd ascertained the offending person had gotten far enough way to no longer be a problem, she looked back down at the girl.
She gave her another shake, just for good measure.
Marn was incredibly backwards, and it was disgusting.
Then the girl turned on her. Qamra was beginning to feel the strain of the walk on her lungs. Soneya's words were greeted by a prolonged fit of coughing. Qamra bent over a little, the muscle of her stomach bunching under the fat she'd gained while sitting on her ass so much, and finally managed to produce the mucous from her lungs. She spat it out onto the ground, hitting some passerby's leg and spattering Soneya's calf with some of the excess saliva.
Disatisfied, Qamra snorted and hawked up another globule of mucous, spitting this one in a much straighter line down to the ground, where it splattered and was promptly stepped on. Ahhh, crowds. Home to any number of body fluids, including -- yes, Qamra saw it over there -- a man pissing right off the side of the street. By the night's end she was sure there would be at least one poor woman or two doing the ol' squat and release.
Thus amused, she turned her attention back down to Soneya. Her hand had shifted off the girl's neck and down to her shoulder. She gave her a little shake, lips turning down and curving oddly around her pronounced teeth. "Are you stupid, girl? Did I pick a retard or are you just hard of hearing? Booze. Good booze. I don't drink shitty brackish water some of you people try to pass for alcohol. Now, chitling, was that too hard for you to understand or should I speak louder and slower?"
As Qamra was speaking she caught someone looking at her midway through her lecture. She rolled her shoulders back and glared, folding her lips in a wolfish smile that revealed her teeth. Once she'd ascertained the offending person had gotten far enough way to no longer be a problem, she looked back down at the girl.
She gave her another shake, just for good measure.
Re: Collide
Eww! Ewww! Ewwww! Ewwwwwww!
This woman was incredibly disgusting in the way she acted! How could she just spit this onto the ground, onto people?! On her? And still her hand was lingering on her shoulder as well. Why on earth did she feel the need to keep body contact? It was...
Soneya’s mind was racing and her thoughts were quite simply starting to be too incoherent to even follow. A splitting headache was the result and for a moment, Soneya wasn’t even capable of paying attention to whatever it was this woman wanted of her. She only wanted to get out of there, out of the crowds, out of the noise and the flickering lights everywhere. And most of all, she wanted to get away from this woman!
“No! I’m not a retard!” the girl replied indignantly, almost feeling surprised at herself for being so quick about her response, though she instantly recoiled from her own courage, fearing what it might lead to. There was no telling what this woman might do to her if she kept refusing her. After all, she was already being rather rude now and she had barely had the chance to do anything wrong.
“You should really do something about that cough of yours,” she couldn’t help but say though once her confusion cleared a bit and the headache allowed her to think straight for a few moments. “I don’t know where to get any good booze. I do not drink.” Or maybe she wasn’t thinking clear yet after all as the words just came out at random without any clear direction as to how certain things are supposed to fit together to make even the littlest sense.
Taking a step backwards in an attempt to shrug the woman’s hand off of her shoulder, Soneya took a wrong step and, with arms flailing, trying to grab at anything she could her fingers on, was sent flying into a passing man with his hands full of drinks.
This woman was incredibly disgusting in the way she acted! How could she just spit this onto the ground, onto people?! On her? And still her hand was lingering on her shoulder as well. Why on earth did she feel the need to keep body contact? It was...
Soneya’s mind was racing and her thoughts were quite simply starting to be too incoherent to even follow. A splitting headache was the result and for a moment, Soneya wasn’t even capable of paying attention to whatever it was this woman wanted of her. She only wanted to get out of there, out of the crowds, out of the noise and the flickering lights everywhere. And most of all, she wanted to get away from this woman!
“No! I’m not a retard!” the girl replied indignantly, almost feeling surprised at herself for being so quick about her response, though she instantly recoiled from her own courage, fearing what it might lead to. There was no telling what this woman might do to her if she kept refusing her. After all, she was already being rather rude now and she had barely had the chance to do anything wrong.
“You should really do something about that cough of yours,” she couldn’t help but say though once her confusion cleared a bit and the headache allowed her to think straight for a few moments. “I don’t know where to get any good booze. I do not drink.” Or maybe she wasn’t thinking clear yet after all as the words just came out at random without any clear direction as to how certain things are supposed to fit together to make even the littlest sense.
Taking a step backwards in an attempt to shrug the woman’s hand off of her shoulder, Soneya took a wrong step and, with arms flailing, trying to grab at anything she could her fingers on, was sent flying into a passing man with his hands full of drinks.
-
Qamra Kalara
- Outsider
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Fri Jul 19, 2013 12:54 am
- Name: aka Bishi
- Race: Mutt
Re: Collide
Qamra's lips twisted into a careful smirk around her sharp teeth and her protruding, small tusks. Children were so simple, so incredibly helpless against the rest of the world. It usually made her want to punish them for their vulnerability, prove to them that they were puny and helpless. That was how she'd gotten strong. It was, in her opinion, the only way to ensure they didn't turn into feeble adults.
The girl had some spit to her though. It only served to amuse Qamra all the more as the girl tried to step away, step backwards and out of reach. Ahh, the prey's attempt to flee. It was the weakling's only defense, really. That and her flapping tongue. Perhaps if Qamra cut a bit of it off the girl would realize that all she succeeded in was making herself sound like a twit. None of that was Qamra's problem.
"Look," she told the smoke, eyes lifting away from the girl as she spotted someone behind her.
Qamra let go.
"Look at these craven simpletons!"
The girl went stumbling back into a man. Alcohol went everywhere, accompanied by cries of dismay and Qamra's laughter. Soon enough it turned into another fit of coughing, but she was over it in a few seconds. It did nothing to curb the hilarity of the situation, nor Qamra's joy in it. A dully curious curl of smoke drifted closer to the situation, holding itself together with a touch of Qamra's faith as it parsed her words. Marn was a death trap for spiritual existence. The sooner Qamra escaped it, the better.
She took two steps forward, heedless of the darkening mood in the flow of traffic around her. Women's voices rose in a shrill melody as they cried complaint over the state of their fancy festival garments (or, Qamra assumed, this counted as fancy for them. It was nothing to the great Eyropan cities she'd spent years in, but what could one say of backwaters?). Men's voices lowered into threatening growls as they rumbled dissent at their own sense of trespass. One in particular, the one who had been carrying the alcohol, had turned a vivid shade of red. He was quite wet, and while Qamra could and did mourn the source of that wetness, she wasn't about to let the focal point of the show escape such perfect attention.
She bent and hauled the girl to her feet by an arm, and thrust her out towards the man with a grin that put all of her teeth on display. Question was, would the man be distracted by Qamra's distinctly inhuman appearance, or would he vent anger on the girl? Would the knot of people turn into a mob, or disperse on the general current of happiness that forgave so much on festival nights?
No matter what happened, Qamra knew it was destined to be fun.
The girl had some spit to her though. It only served to amuse Qamra all the more as the girl tried to step away, step backwards and out of reach. Ahh, the prey's attempt to flee. It was the weakling's only defense, really. That and her flapping tongue. Perhaps if Qamra cut a bit of it off the girl would realize that all she succeeded in was making herself sound like a twit. None of that was Qamra's problem.
"Look," she told the smoke, eyes lifting away from the girl as she spotted someone behind her.
Qamra let go.
"Look at these craven simpletons!"
The girl went stumbling back into a man. Alcohol went everywhere, accompanied by cries of dismay and Qamra's laughter. Soon enough it turned into another fit of coughing, but she was over it in a few seconds. It did nothing to curb the hilarity of the situation, nor Qamra's joy in it. A dully curious curl of smoke drifted closer to the situation, holding itself together with a touch of Qamra's faith as it parsed her words. Marn was a death trap for spiritual existence. The sooner Qamra escaped it, the better.
She took two steps forward, heedless of the darkening mood in the flow of traffic around her. Women's voices rose in a shrill melody as they cried complaint over the state of their fancy festival garments (or, Qamra assumed, this counted as fancy for them. It was nothing to the great Eyropan cities she'd spent years in, but what could one say of backwaters?). Men's voices lowered into threatening growls as they rumbled dissent at their own sense of trespass. One in particular, the one who had been carrying the alcohol, had turned a vivid shade of red. He was quite wet, and while Qamra could and did mourn the source of that wetness, she wasn't about to let the focal point of the show escape such perfect attention.
She bent and hauled the girl to her feet by an arm, and thrust her out towards the man with a grin that put all of her teeth on display. Question was, would the man be distracted by Qamra's distinctly inhuman appearance, or would he vent anger on the girl? Would the knot of people turn into a mob, or disperse on the general current of happiness that forgave so much on festival nights?
No matter what happened, Qamra knew it was destined to be fun.
Re: Collide
When the woman suddenly began talking to thin air – or was she actually talking to the smoke? It was curling rather oddly, unlike it usually was – Soneya couldn’t help but remember a story her grandfather used to tell her when she was little about a snake conjurer, who by talking or singing to them could make them dance and move in every way he wanted them to, apparently conversing with them through movements and music. It was very odd and the story had scared her though she had like hearing it nevertheless; it had seemed so innocently magical at the time. But of course magic was a bad thing. That she had definitely learned and understood very well in the meantime. If it weren’t for the existence of magic, her grandfather would still be alive.
Instinctively and without even realising it, Soneya again backed away, crawling backwards on the floor, using her hand and feet while scrubbing along her backside. She ignored the fact that her clothes were getting incredibly dirty and wet, and she also ignored the angry man she had bumped into. There were more people to come, she was sure, as long as she didn’t back herself up into a wall and managed to get herself cornered. She needed to turn and run. Run!
But there were too many people paying attention to the commotion now, and Soneya was starting to panic. The man was yelling at her, though she didn’t understand what he was saying. Indignant women with slightly wet clothing were chittering away like pissed off rattle snakes and the woman in front of her… She was the one Soneya was most afraid of. Being yelled at and insulted, she was used to it. Marn wasn’t always the nicest place, especially not with regards to children who didn’t pay attention to where they were going, or were in their way for one reason or another and it had happened to Soneya.
It didn’t matter to her though, not now. She wanted to get out of there. She needed to get out of there! With every heartbeat, she could feel the rapid pounding of her heart and it was starting to make her hyperventilate. Every thought of having an errand to run had blown off into the winds and was completely forgotten.
Before she could get up however, she was helped up. Cringing away from the woman’s sudden proximity and her surprisingly strong grip, Soneya felt herself trapped, and then thrust towards the angry man she had caused to spill all his alcohol. She didn’t understand anything about men in general but spill their drinks or food, then people could well go ballistic. His already red face turned an even darker shade when he was presented with the cause of his distress and Soneya didn’t know where to shrink away to. There was no escape. The man and a few more frustrated people were all staring her down and she was in a tight hold of the woman she had initially tried to escape from. She really should just stop bumping into people. Maybe she should just hole up at home and never go out again; that way she could be sure not to step on anyone’s toes anymore.
“You little wench! Look what you have done!” The man went off on a monologue which include more swear words and insults than anything else but it seemed to at least make him feel a little better about having lost his alcohol. He was in the midst of a particularly flowery sentence when he seemed to freeze. Soneya didn’t have to guess what he had just noticed and why he looked like he had just seen a ghost. The man stammered a little, vainly trying to regain his composure and his train of thought before stopping completely. Instead he was now staring open-mouthed with more and more people falling silent as they wondered, or some even noticed, why the man in question had fallen silent so abruptly.
Soneya would have loved to use the opportunity to slip away from the situation but alas, she was still in the woman’s firm grip and there was nothing she could do about it. She wriggled a little, but to no avail. It only served to pinch her own skin. She was pretty sure her arms would be bluer than her darkest clothes by the next day. “Let me go,” she hissed, but the words came out in a rather low voice and she wasn’t sure the woman had even heard her. Then again, most of the attention was away from her now and she didn’t want to make herself noticed again. It was better their attention was on the strange woman, though it didn’t help that said woman was refusing to let her go.
As much as she tried to figure out a way to get out of this, Soneya didn’t see an escape. She had never been able to break handholds, even less so when they were this tight. Nor did she know how she could persuade either of these people to help her, especially now that they had all decided that the whole alcohol spilling fiasco was her fault. Added to this was the fact that the stranger was now offering her up on a silver platter, even though they were shocked by her appearance. But how long would that last before the mob, or at least the man she’d bumped in to, would actually regain composure and tear her to shreds?
From the corner of her eyes, she could still see the smoke column hovering nearby and it sent a shiver down her spine. Better not think of it. Better not realise that this bit of smoke was in no way behaving like it was supposed to. Another shiver crept down her back when the thought of magic hit her. The stranger was so… well… strange that Soneya couldn’t shake the feeling that there had to be something magical about the woman as well. Though she couldn’t fathom why the woman wouldn’t then use her magic to cure her cough – or do something about those teeth of hers for that matter.
Oddly, Soneya felt a little bad for having had that thought but she wasn’t lingering on it. The man was shifting his gaze to hers again and she sensed that no good could come of it. Struggling a little more again, she realised for the umpteenth time that she wasn’t going to get herself free, thus she tried her best to make a show of folding in on herself and disappearing into thin air.
If only it could work like it was told in the stories…
Then again, she didn’t believe in magic, nor did she want anything to do with it. It was just stories her grandfather had made up. There was nothing to it. Nothing romantic or beautiful anyway. No good could come of magic, or the use thereof. Though the narrations had told a different story altogether…
Instinctively and without even realising it, Soneya again backed away, crawling backwards on the floor, using her hand and feet while scrubbing along her backside. She ignored the fact that her clothes were getting incredibly dirty and wet, and she also ignored the angry man she had bumped into. There were more people to come, she was sure, as long as she didn’t back herself up into a wall and managed to get herself cornered. She needed to turn and run. Run!
But there were too many people paying attention to the commotion now, and Soneya was starting to panic. The man was yelling at her, though she didn’t understand what he was saying. Indignant women with slightly wet clothing were chittering away like pissed off rattle snakes and the woman in front of her… She was the one Soneya was most afraid of. Being yelled at and insulted, she was used to it. Marn wasn’t always the nicest place, especially not with regards to children who didn’t pay attention to where they were going, or were in their way for one reason or another and it had happened to Soneya.
It didn’t matter to her though, not now. She wanted to get out of there. She needed to get out of there! With every heartbeat, she could feel the rapid pounding of her heart and it was starting to make her hyperventilate. Every thought of having an errand to run had blown off into the winds and was completely forgotten.
Before she could get up however, she was helped up. Cringing away from the woman’s sudden proximity and her surprisingly strong grip, Soneya felt herself trapped, and then thrust towards the angry man she had caused to spill all his alcohol. She didn’t understand anything about men in general but spill their drinks or food, then people could well go ballistic. His already red face turned an even darker shade when he was presented with the cause of his distress and Soneya didn’t know where to shrink away to. There was no escape. The man and a few more frustrated people were all staring her down and she was in a tight hold of the woman she had initially tried to escape from. She really should just stop bumping into people. Maybe she should just hole up at home and never go out again; that way she could be sure not to step on anyone’s toes anymore.
“You little wench! Look what you have done!” The man went off on a monologue which include more swear words and insults than anything else but it seemed to at least make him feel a little better about having lost his alcohol. He was in the midst of a particularly flowery sentence when he seemed to freeze. Soneya didn’t have to guess what he had just noticed and why he looked like he had just seen a ghost. The man stammered a little, vainly trying to regain his composure and his train of thought before stopping completely. Instead he was now staring open-mouthed with more and more people falling silent as they wondered, or some even noticed, why the man in question had fallen silent so abruptly.
Soneya would have loved to use the opportunity to slip away from the situation but alas, she was still in the woman’s firm grip and there was nothing she could do about it. She wriggled a little, but to no avail. It only served to pinch her own skin. She was pretty sure her arms would be bluer than her darkest clothes by the next day. “Let me go,” she hissed, but the words came out in a rather low voice and she wasn’t sure the woman had even heard her. Then again, most of the attention was away from her now and she didn’t want to make herself noticed again. It was better their attention was on the strange woman, though it didn’t help that said woman was refusing to let her go.
As much as she tried to figure out a way to get out of this, Soneya didn’t see an escape. She had never been able to break handholds, even less so when they were this tight. Nor did she know how she could persuade either of these people to help her, especially now that they had all decided that the whole alcohol spilling fiasco was her fault. Added to this was the fact that the stranger was now offering her up on a silver platter, even though they were shocked by her appearance. But how long would that last before the mob, or at least the man she’d bumped in to, would actually regain composure and tear her to shreds?
From the corner of her eyes, she could still see the smoke column hovering nearby and it sent a shiver down her spine. Better not think of it. Better not realise that this bit of smoke was in no way behaving like it was supposed to. Another shiver crept down her back when the thought of magic hit her. The stranger was so… well… strange that Soneya couldn’t shake the feeling that there had to be something magical about the woman as well. Though she couldn’t fathom why the woman wouldn’t then use her magic to cure her cough – or do something about those teeth of hers for that matter.
Oddly, Soneya felt a little bad for having had that thought but she wasn’t lingering on it. The man was shifting his gaze to hers again and she sensed that no good could come of it. Struggling a little more again, she realised for the umpteenth time that she wasn’t going to get herself free, thus she tried her best to make a show of folding in on herself and disappearing into thin air.
If only it could work like it was told in the stories…
Then again, she didn’t believe in magic, nor did she want anything to do with it. It was just stories her grandfather had made up. There was nothing to it. Nothing romantic or beautiful anyway. No good could come of magic, or the use thereof. Though the narrations had told a different story altogether…
-
Qamra Kalara
- Outsider
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Fri Jul 19, 2013 12:54 am
- Name: aka Bishi
- Race: Mutt
Re: Collide
That was incredibly pedestrian. No wonder the man's clothes were in such a strong lull they were almost mute, having given up on the world around them to retreat into themselves. Qamra didn't blame them. She rolled her eyes several times during the man's diatribe, though she did notice them begin to notice her own fabulosity in return. Such a simple, boring people.
Qamra watched the man, her eyes a little wide as she put her free hand on the girl's shoulder and bent in, closer and closer. She could feel the drowsy spirits around them, the tendrils of living smoke that were drawn to her awakened state and the small beam of alertness she aimed at them. They were yet too incoherent for her to use them, or ask much of them at all, but she had their slow attention. That was surely better than anything else at the moment, girl or man or the small blockade they presented to the rest of the foot traffic.
"Should we run?" Qamra whispered into the girl's ear even as she grinned at the man.
Louder, she said, "It's a festival, innit? Shouldn't you be out getting drunk -- ohhh, but this little girl took your drinks right away from you. Well girl, pay the man what he's owed. Go on now."
Qamra flexed her fingers, giving the girl a little shake. She could see some of the women hanging on to their indecision, their doubt of whose side needed taking up, who needed their henpecking gossip-tongued harpy threats most. They were meaningless harridans, puffs of air whose spirits would be the most useless of all. They mattered not at all to her ricocheting interest, and she ignored their whispers as she focused whole on the man. His face was an interesting color, but he wasn't doing anything worthwhile. He needed more prodding. Qamra flexed her fingers, giving the girl a small shake.
The smoke was waking up. Three distinct sources (two of them intermingled together; pitch and something else, burned from a torch, likely, while the other was oil) had taken some sort of interest, and she opened herself up to them.
"What do you say?" She asked the spirits of cedar, pitch and oil, "Shall we play a game?"
She was looking right at the man as she said it.
Qamra watched the man, her eyes a little wide as she put her free hand on the girl's shoulder and bent in, closer and closer. She could feel the drowsy spirits around them, the tendrils of living smoke that were drawn to her awakened state and the small beam of alertness she aimed at them. They were yet too incoherent for her to use them, or ask much of them at all, but she had their slow attention. That was surely better than anything else at the moment, girl or man or the small blockade they presented to the rest of the foot traffic.
"Should we run?" Qamra whispered into the girl's ear even as she grinned at the man.
Louder, she said, "It's a festival, innit? Shouldn't you be out getting drunk -- ohhh, but this little girl took your drinks right away from you. Well girl, pay the man what he's owed. Go on now."
Qamra flexed her fingers, giving the girl a little shake. She could see some of the women hanging on to their indecision, their doubt of whose side needed taking up, who needed their henpecking gossip-tongued harpy threats most. They were meaningless harridans, puffs of air whose spirits would be the most useless of all. They mattered not at all to her ricocheting interest, and she ignored their whispers as she focused whole on the man. His face was an interesting color, but he wasn't doing anything worthwhile. He needed more prodding. Qamra flexed her fingers, giving the girl a small shake.
The smoke was waking up. Three distinct sources (two of them intermingled together; pitch and something else, burned from a torch, likely, while the other was oil) had taken some sort of interest, and she opened herself up to them.
"What do you say?" She asked the spirits of cedar, pitch and oil, "Shall we play a game?"
She was looking right at the man as she said it.
Re: Collide
What? Run? YES!
Soneya wanted nothing more than to run, run far away from this situation, get out of everyone’s hair and have everyone out of her way! Yes, yes, yes!
But wait.
No!
She didn’t want to run with her. That could only have even more negative consequences. Running with the stranger would not get her away from the woman, even if it did get her away from the crowd surrounding her, far too closely now, in her scared opinion.
Her fear turned into outrage, then panic when the woman suggested she should pay the man for the spilled drinks. But she had no money! She was only a little girl! How was she ever going to get out of this again? Already the man was smirking, obviously satisfied by the suggestion that had been made, despite his visible reluctance to have anything to do with her prisoner. Whyyyyy? Why was this happening to her? She was a good girl. She had always been obedient, well mostly. She had never done anything forbidden. Why would she have to suffer through this? She hadn’t done anything!
“But I didn’t do anything!” she finally cried out as her voice found its way from her head to her mouth, but that was all she managed to say before she broke down again, tears stinging her eyes, but she refused to cry before this bunch. No, she may be helpless and she may be in a bit of a pickle, but she wasn’t going to cry!
Soneya felt sick. And she wanted nothing more than to awaken from this nightmare, though she knew that the sad truth was that this was real. Her headache had turned into a fullblown migraine with the noises around her making her feel as if needles were being pricked into her skull every time something was even louder or more high-pitched than the rest – which was quite often; it was a festival after all as the woman had so rightly stated.
The man’s face turned into a mix of surprise, suspicion and eagerness. He certainly wanted to hear what kind of game the woman had in mind, and he most certainly wanted compensation for the good money he had spent on the drinks now soaking into peoples’ clothing and the no longer dusty ground. Some of the women began to step away, realising that they were not going to gain anything by standing around and ranting about their wet dresses. More was to be gained elsewhere, thus they went off in search of a new playground. Some stuck around however, interested in seeing what was going to happen next, the cause for their previous frustration completely forgotten as they now watched, mesmerised, what was taking place before their curious eyes.
Soneya recoiled into herself again, trying to ignore it all. It was just too confusing, too painful, too scary. She couldn’t deal with it, she couldn’t handle it, nor did she want to. She felt like throwing up, all colour having left her already fairly pale face as she fought against the rising nausea.
Soneya wanted nothing more than to run, run far away from this situation, get out of everyone’s hair and have everyone out of her way! Yes, yes, yes!
But wait.
No!
She didn’t want to run with her. That could only have even more negative consequences. Running with the stranger would not get her away from the woman, even if it did get her away from the crowd surrounding her, far too closely now, in her scared opinion.
Her fear turned into outrage, then panic when the woman suggested she should pay the man for the spilled drinks. But she had no money! She was only a little girl! How was she ever going to get out of this again? Already the man was smirking, obviously satisfied by the suggestion that had been made, despite his visible reluctance to have anything to do with her prisoner. Whyyyyy? Why was this happening to her? She was a good girl. She had always been obedient, well mostly. She had never done anything forbidden. Why would she have to suffer through this? She hadn’t done anything!
“But I didn’t do anything!” she finally cried out as her voice found its way from her head to her mouth, but that was all she managed to say before she broke down again, tears stinging her eyes, but she refused to cry before this bunch. No, she may be helpless and she may be in a bit of a pickle, but she wasn’t going to cry!
Soneya felt sick. And she wanted nothing more than to awaken from this nightmare, though she knew that the sad truth was that this was real. Her headache had turned into a fullblown migraine with the noises around her making her feel as if needles were being pricked into her skull every time something was even louder or more high-pitched than the rest – which was quite often; it was a festival after all as the woman had so rightly stated.
The man’s face turned into a mix of surprise, suspicion and eagerness. He certainly wanted to hear what kind of game the woman had in mind, and he most certainly wanted compensation for the good money he had spent on the drinks now soaking into peoples’ clothing and the no longer dusty ground. Some of the women began to step away, realising that they were not going to gain anything by standing around and ranting about their wet dresses. More was to be gained elsewhere, thus they went off in search of a new playground. Some stuck around however, interested in seeing what was going to happen next, the cause for their previous frustration completely forgotten as they now watched, mesmerised, what was taking place before their curious eyes.
Soneya recoiled into herself again, trying to ignore it all. It was just too confusing, too painful, too scary. She couldn’t deal with it, she couldn’t handle it, nor did she want to. She felt like throwing up, all colour having left her already fairly pale face as she fought against the rising nausea.
-
Qamra Kalara
- Outsider
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Fri Jul 19, 2013 12:54 am
- Name: aka Bishi
- Race: Mutt
Re: Collide
The smoke was interested, if in a muted, dull sort of way. It was unused to holding its form. It had expected to chase oblivion the same way the stupid man-child before her chased pussy and drink. Here was no warrior society, no warren of beasts who earned their way by being the strongest, the best. They were fat and ordinary, scarred by hard work and low expectations. The smoke was used to being dismissed. It had no magic to succor. It had no one to whisper to its base form to remind it of what it was, what it could be. It had lost part of itself, and that gave Qamra no small amount of ammunition to be piqued about.
A game then, a game.
"Go then," she told the smoke, ignoring the look on the man's face and the bleating sheep between her fingers. "Cloud the sight, burn the lungs. Then find me."
She tightened her fingers where they rested on the girl, knowing the tender and delicate flesh beneath her would bruise. She didn't care. She didn't care at all.
"Come 'n' get her then!"
The smoke was divided. The cedar responded almost instantly, diving for the man's eyes. Pitch had almost always been stubborn to command or plea, especially when Qamra had never met it before, and it hung down low, undecided. The oil was fairly eager to please, and it twined around the man's eyes. He cried out.
Qamra wasted no time. She let go of the girl's shoulder, skimmed her hand down to her waist, and bent at the knees. She tossed the girl over her shoulder much as she would have any thing that didn't have a mind or a will of its own. Far as she was concerned, the only thing worth its will and spirit was the cedar; the rest was young chaff too full of itself and without any sort of discipline at all to be worth the time of day. People included.
Howling laughter, Qamra began to run through the streets. Oh, she knew she'd have to stop for the curling coughing fits that even then were starting to tremble deep in her lungs, but she didn't care. She hadn't had so much fun since the time she'd burned half of Martialis' lumber shipment in the most glorious bonfire ever seen this side of Vitalis -- which, as it so happened, had been a few months before her imprisonment in Marn's not-so-hospitable hospital. True, the man she ran from now was more of an excuse and less of a challenge (even weaponless and half dead from the so-called illness the doctors kept trying to caution her over, she could still take him), but that wasn't the point.
Point was, there was a festival to enjoy, a captive to torment, and copious amounts of alcohol to be had.
Just as soon as she could find it.
By the time she had to stop she was a few streets away from where she'd left the belabored man, and her lungs had seized up good in a coughing fit the likes of which she'd not had for a full year, give or take some months. The girl had been slung down against a building -- them out of the flow of traffic in a narrow alley, just in far enough to escape being trod on -- with Qamra crouched over her. One hand was planted near the girl's head on the wall, with the other wrapped tight around her shoulder as she bent near double with the coughing. They were close enough that it might look like a lover's assignation or some sort of robbery gone sideways, which was enough to ensure no casual merry-maker would be bothering them.
A game then, a game.
"Go then," she told the smoke, ignoring the look on the man's face and the bleating sheep between her fingers. "Cloud the sight, burn the lungs. Then find me."
She tightened her fingers where they rested on the girl, knowing the tender and delicate flesh beneath her would bruise. She didn't care. She didn't care at all.
"Come 'n' get her then!"
The smoke was divided. The cedar responded almost instantly, diving for the man's eyes. Pitch had almost always been stubborn to command or plea, especially when Qamra had never met it before, and it hung down low, undecided. The oil was fairly eager to please, and it twined around the man's eyes. He cried out.
Qamra wasted no time. She let go of the girl's shoulder, skimmed her hand down to her waist, and bent at the knees. She tossed the girl over her shoulder much as she would have any thing that didn't have a mind or a will of its own. Far as she was concerned, the only thing worth its will and spirit was the cedar; the rest was young chaff too full of itself and without any sort of discipline at all to be worth the time of day. People included.
Howling laughter, Qamra began to run through the streets. Oh, she knew she'd have to stop for the curling coughing fits that even then were starting to tremble deep in her lungs, but she didn't care. She hadn't had so much fun since the time she'd burned half of Martialis' lumber shipment in the most glorious bonfire ever seen this side of Vitalis -- which, as it so happened, had been a few months before her imprisonment in Marn's not-so-hospitable hospital. True, the man she ran from now was more of an excuse and less of a challenge (even weaponless and half dead from the so-called illness the doctors kept trying to caution her over, she could still take him), but that wasn't the point.
Point was, there was a festival to enjoy, a captive to torment, and copious amounts of alcohol to be had.
Just as soon as she could find it.
By the time she had to stop she was a few streets away from where she'd left the belabored man, and her lungs had seized up good in a coughing fit the likes of which she'd not had for a full year, give or take some months. The girl had been slung down against a building -- them out of the flow of traffic in a narrow alley, just in far enough to escape being trod on -- with Qamra crouched over her. One hand was planted near the girl's head on the wall, with the other wrapped tight around her shoulder as she bent near double with the coughing. They were close enough that it might look like a lover's assignation or some sort of robbery gone sideways, which was enough to ensure no casual merry-maker would be bothering them.
Re: Collide
The smoke was intoxicating and made Soneya feel even worse, but she didn’t quite understand what was going on. Why was the woman talking to thin air? Or to the smoke even? It was all just too odd and the little girl was convinced that the woman was insane. It would explain her rudeness and her behaviour in general.
But when the smoke columns suddenly reacted to her words, Soneya’s eyes clouded with refusal to see what she was really seeing. It couldn’t be happening. Surely, it was all just an illusion. A very well-played trick. Wasn’t it?
Before she even knew what was happening to her, she had already been thrown over a shoulder and was being bumpily carried through the streets of Marn. At first, she was too stunned to comprehend, but then she started kicking and screaming, surprised by the incredible strength the wiry, short woman continued to display. “Put me down!”
Her screaming and kicking remained futile however. The woman didn’t let go and nobody else seemed to care even just a bit. “Let me go! Where are you taking me? Let me gooooo!” Where were the guards when you needed them?! Where was civic duty when it was required? Did nobody care that a girl was carried off against her will?
A coughing fit came soon, although not quite soon enough, shaking Soneya to the bone but she refused to be nice or feel sorry for the woman. Not after this, not after what she had just done. And Soneya really did not want to think about what might still happen to her. Instead, she tried to coil away, but it was impossible the way the woman was standing in front of her and keeping a grip on her. Besides, her head was swimming from their little jog, not to mention the hit she had taken as she had been slumped against the wall. She was dizzy, appalled and her stomach cramped up in convulsion in quicker and quicker succession. Vainly, she tried to push at the woman, but she was so weak, it didn’t look or probably feel like anything more than a lame pat on the shoulder, which from the outside could be interpreted as something else entirely.
“Oh…!” The rest of her exclamation, which could possibly have been a warning for the woman to get away, was lost as the dinner she had had earlier came out again. Soneya’s head came away from the wall, as she quickly bent forwards to vomit, ignoring the fact that she might not only hit the woman’s feet but herself in her hurry to bend over and get it all out.
Shaking like a leaf, Soneya retched a few more times but it seemed as though her stomach had been emptied completely. She still felt nauseous and felt as though there had to be something else she could get out but there was nothing more than raw bile, which made her feel even worse. After a moment longer, she slumped back against the wall, her eyes closing in exhaustion. Her whole body was cramped up and her head felt like it was going to explode at any second. Plus, she desperately wanted some water to rinse her mouth.
But when the smoke columns suddenly reacted to her words, Soneya’s eyes clouded with refusal to see what she was really seeing. It couldn’t be happening. Surely, it was all just an illusion. A very well-played trick. Wasn’t it?
Before she even knew what was happening to her, she had already been thrown over a shoulder and was being bumpily carried through the streets of Marn. At first, she was too stunned to comprehend, but then she started kicking and screaming, surprised by the incredible strength the wiry, short woman continued to display. “Put me down!”
Her screaming and kicking remained futile however. The woman didn’t let go and nobody else seemed to care even just a bit. “Let me go! Where are you taking me? Let me gooooo!” Where were the guards when you needed them?! Where was civic duty when it was required? Did nobody care that a girl was carried off against her will?
A coughing fit came soon, although not quite soon enough, shaking Soneya to the bone but she refused to be nice or feel sorry for the woman. Not after this, not after what she had just done. And Soneya really did not want to think about what might still happen to her. Instead, she tried to coil away, but it was impossible the way the woman was standing in front of her and keeping a grip on her. Besides, her head was swimming from their little jog, not to mention the hit she had taken as she had been slumped against the wall. She was dizzy, appalled and her stomach cramped up in convulsion in quicker and quicker succession. Vainly, she tried to push at the woman, but she was so weak, it didn’t look or probably feel like anything more than a lame pat on the shoulder, which from the outside could be interpreted as something else entirely.
“Oh…!” The rest of her exclamation, which could possibly have been a warning for the woman to get away, was lost as the dinner she had had earlier came out again. Soneya’s head came away from the wall, as she quickly bent forwards to vomit, ignoring the fact that she might not only hit the woman’s feet but herself in her hurry to bend over and get it all out.
Shaking like a leaf, Soneya retched a few more times but it seemed as though her stomach had been emptied completely. She still felt nauseous and felt as though there had to be something else she could get out but there was nothing more than raw bile, which made her feel even worse. After a moment longer, she slumped back against the wall, her eyes closing in exhaustion. Her whole body was cramped up and her head felt like it was going to explode at any second. Plus, she desperately wanted some water to rinse her mouth.
-
Qamra Kalara
- Outsider
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Fri Jul 19, 2013 12:54 am
- Name: aka Bishi
- Race: Mutt
Re: Collide
Suddenly, vomit. Qamra finished her coughing fit in time to inhale the raw stench of it right down into her own stomach. She'd dealt with enough stink in various form to not have her stomach surge up out of her mouth in return, but her body still reacted. Her stomach curled in revulsion, and her own expression shifted to match her disgust when she looked down to find vomit pooling on her feet and spattered up her legs. The girl was visibly shaking. Qamra's lip curled, and she took a step back.
The smoke found her shortly after, vivid and alive from its stunts. Cedar and oil, interested in her, circled. It was so new, so freshly awakened. She could feel the age of those spirits creeping up her back, but even so they viewed the world with the innocence of the young. How long until they burned up?
The girl at her feet was no longer so fun, not with her stinking and wet with her own vomit.
"Lookit what you've done there, fen-sucked filth! Couldn't hold it in? Like a babe, you are, belching down your mum's back, agh!" Qamra took another step back, lifting her feet to shake off the vomit one at a time. It was slung in Soneya's direction. The smoke drifted low to take in what was happening.
The smoke found her shortly after, vivid and alive from its stunts. Cedar and oil, interested in her, circled. It was so new, so freshly awakened. She could feel the age of those spirits creeping up her back, but even so they viewed the world with the innocence of the young. How long until they burned up?
The girl at her feet was no longer so fun, not with her stinking and wet with her own vomit.
"Lookit what you've done there, fen-sucked filth! Couldn't hold it in? Like a babe, you are, belching down your mum's back, agh!" Qamra took another step back, lifting her feet to shake off the vomit one at a time. It was slung in Soneya's direction. The smoke drifted low to take in what was happening.
Re: Collide
The smoke…
At first, Soneya didn’t quite comprehend. Where did the smoke come from? There was no chimney near, nor a fire or anything else that could possibly provide any grounds for smoke.
And then she saw the way the smoke seemed to be almost hugging the strange woman who had kidnapped her and who was now looking at her in disgust. Something snapped.
Soneya wanted to scream but the sound remained locked in her throat, almost making her choke. Her eyes grew huge as her heart began to beat frantically. She wanted to get away, wished herself away but her wishes weren’t heard. Nobody who passed by even bothered to check on them, preferring to keep their noses away from dark alleys for fear of what could befall them. Gathering her feet under her, the girl curled herself tightly into a ball.
The woman was right. She was a little baby. Nothing she could do would be enough to get away from the woman. Nothing she could do would be enough to understand what was going on. Why was there smoke? Why was it moving? Why was it there?
Magic is evil. No matter in which form it is used, magic will always corrupt those who come in contact with it.
Her mother’s voice echoed in her head, the same sentence repeating over and over again. Soneya put her hands over her ears as though the motion would shut out the phrase dancing around in her head but it didn’t help. Silent tears were now streaming down her face as she was rocking herself back and forth in an attempt to forget what was happening.
Magic.
She had to get away. She had already been in its presence for too long. Was she already corrupted? Had the magic already affected her? Would her parents stop loving her now?
At first, Soneya didn’t quite comprehend. Where did the smoke come from? There was no chimney near, nor a fire or anything else that could possibly provide any grounds for smoke.
And then she saw the way the smoke seemed to be almost hugging the strange woman who had kidnapped her and who was now looking at her in disgust. Something snapped.
Soneya wanted to scream but the sound remained locked in her throat, almost making her choke. Her eyes grew huge as her heart began to beat frantically. She wanted to get away, wished herself away but her wishes weren’t heard. Nobody who passed by even bothered to check on them, preferring to keep their noses away from dark alleys for fear of what could befall them. Gathering her feet under her, the girl curled herself tightly into a ball.
The woman was right. She was a little baby. Nothing she could do would be enough to get away from the woman. Nothing she could do would be enough to understand what was going on. Why was there smoke? Why was it moving? Why was it there?
Magic is evil. No matter in which form it is used, magic will always corrupt those who come in contact with it.
Her mother’s voice echoed in her head, the same sentence repeating over and over again. Soneya put her hands over her ears as though the motion would shut out the phrase dancing around in her head but it didn’t help. Silent tears were now streaming down her face as she was rocking herself back and forth in an attempt to forget what was happening.
Magic.
She had to get away. She had already been in its presence for too long. Was she already corrupted? Had the magic already affected her? Would her parents stop loving her now?