[woods | open to all | multiple threads]

[no_onebetter]

First, she blinked. Then, she pinched herself. Finally, she simply stared upward at the unfamiliar canopy looking down upon her.

"...splendid!" Lute shaded her eyes with a hand and laughed aloud. Splendid? More like...like...marvelous! Unheard of! No one had ever thrust themselves through a cosmic wormhole - at least, no one who'd ever bothered to

Comments

[whatoncewashers]

When someone calls a name that isn't yours, the best course of action is just ignore it and continue walking. Unfortunately, Flynn was at that stage of 'I can only walk around this camp so many times before boredom overtakes me and I must scream' when he would probably walk towards someone shouting 'I WILL KILL THE NEXT PERSON I SEE' just for a change of pace. At least the kingdom was always exciting. Life in the mysterious wood far from everything he knew and was familiar to him was... Okay, it was mostly just freaky. Being threatened by brigands would bring familiarity back to it

[no_onebetter]

There was something black and shiny on the ground next to her. Lute was in the middle of bending down to pick it up when a mysterious man hailed her - and in a matter that was hardly worthy of a gentleman. Honestly, here she was, in an unknown forest, and the only thing he saw fit to tell her was his name? And that hair: how improper!

Now, what did all of her etiquette books say to do when confronted by such ruffians? Ah, yes - faint. She'd always found fault with that particular set of instructions, especially because it just didn't seem...practical. Case in point: Artur was not around to catch her.

Ergo, it was probably best to stick with the next best option: threaten emasculation.

Lute straightened up and whirled to face the stranger, spell book already open. "Good day to you too, sir," she said with as much venom as she could muster, backing away warily. "If you have any foul intentions, I suggest you direct them elsewhere..." And now to deliver the metaphorical punch! Lute thrust an accusatory finger forward, sparking bright

[whatoncewashers]

.....Okay, seriously. Why did all these women want to hurt him? THIS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE. Next case of action- don't flirt, be ruggedly charming, and... Helpful or something.

Flynn threw his hands up and backed away. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. There's no need for violence. I have... No foul intentions, whatsoever. I was just passing through, and couldn't help but notice you... Yelling."

He arched his eyebrows, giving her the full weight of his brown eyes. See these puppy eyes? Could these possibly be the puppy eyes of someone who would harm... A crazy teenage girl?

[no_onebetter]

Lute's eyes narrowed. Puppy eyes had no effect on her, not after those countless dolts in the village had tried them on her in some fumbling attempt at courtship. "Be as it may, I don't believe I was yelling for you." And if this brute even dared to pretend he might in some way resemble Artur...perhaps she ought to hit his face as well for his audacity.

"Unless..." The finger was hesitantly retracted, and Lute pressed it thoughtfully to her lips. "Unless..." Her eyes lit up as her demeanor took a complete turnaround. "...you're meant to be my escort! A-ha! Yes, of course only I, with my spectacular intelligence, could have deduced that. I--" She stopped mid-sentence and took a long look at him. "You're a rather sorry escort, aren't you? And I have to say, you need to work on your welcoming skills." Lute sighed dramatically. "I suppose I'll simply have to make do with what's available for the time being..."

She eyed Flynn haughtily. "Now. Introduce yourself again, sir. Properly."

[notalighieri]

A girl's voice calling for 'Arthur' wasn't what he was looking for when he was running through the dense trees, but it was worth checking out.

If Dante had learnt anything the last few weeks it was that he couldn't count on trouble finding him in this place with anywhere near the same predictable accuracy as back home. For as much as he was known to be able to sit on a chair for hours upon hours being a lazy bum, there was a limit to even his near zen-like patience. It was with grumbling annoyance he had accepted to fall back on old and long since abandoned practices of regular survival tactics. Anything to stave off that cabin fever. Damn forest. Seriously.

Slowing his pace to a walk he cleared the trees and looked at the girl. New girl, no less. Unless she was a local.

"Lost?"

Hello there. 6'3" lean guy with white hair, shirtless and dressed in leather pants, here.

[no_onebetter]

Starting a little bit more than a proper young lady ought to, Lute faced the source of the strange voice, intending to fully give him a piece of her mind and perhaps her magic for startling her.

This was until she caught sight of his hair.

There were some things that Lute was well-accustomed to seeing: books, teapots, Artur, her grandmother, village boys, and so forth. This list sadly did not include young men with white hair. White hair was usually reserved for older members of society whose hair had lost its pigmentation due to the unfortunate effects of aging. Having it, therefore, implied that either one was ridiculously good at getting old (which was known to occur, but this man's appearance suggested that his aging process bordered on the absurd) or that one did some curious things to one's hair, the likes of which had never been seen in Tellius. Lute was inclined to believe the latter, but either way, she was mildly fascinated

[notalighieri]

... Dante just offered the girl a flat stare. It wasn't as if he wasn't used to people asking that question but -talk about weird conversational starter for someone appearing lost in the wood. If she was lost, that is.

Whatever.

"It is, curtains match the drapes an' everything. What can I say, babe... I was blessed with exotic beauty at birth." The last bit was delivered with a coy and confident smirk.

[no_onebetter]

Interior decorating had no correlation to the color of one's hair, but then, perhaps he simply didn't understand how it had come to be that way and therefore was offering some sort of strange tangent as consolation. As she wasn't exactly an avid student of the art of decorating one's house, it seemed the best course of action to ignore the stranger's terrible attempts at diverting her attention or whatever he intended and carry on in her observations.

Lute nodded slowly. "I see. Beauty is a rather objective, unreliable standard in my opinion, but if there is no other explanation, I suppose I can only accept it for now." By 'for now' she meant, 'until I've conducted the proper research on you'.

She frowned and tilted her head slightly to the side. "Also, my name is Lute, not Babe. But you wouldn't have known that until now."