Comments | daisychainrpg: Missing: one Pawn

lastofvaldemar in daisychainrpg

Missing: one Pawn

Mar 09, 2009 20:52

Characters: Vanyel Ashkevron, open
Content: Vanyel's blurry introduction to Manhattan
Location: the ruined visage of the New York Palace Hotel, across from the cathedral
Time of day: Daytime, likely early afternoon
Warnings: none

( A nest of steel, as from a bird of massive size )

loz, vanyel ashkevron, sora

Comments 44

loz_wolf March 12 2009, 06:56:47 UTC

Loz had decided to go out a bit - not really going anywhere, just wandering with an eye toward scavenging, today. The bag over his shoulder hung at an odd angle, half-full of things he'd found: a few bottles of "sparkling white wine", batteries, a working cigarette lighter, some dvds with interesting-looking covers, and a packaged dog-robot-thing that was supposed to light up and move around when you played music through it. Naminé might like that last one, he'd thought.

He'd wanted to get back by dark - didn't really want to deal with crab-things more than he had to today - so he was on his way back, when he ran across the corpse on the sidewalk.

He saw it in time to not actually step on it. He stopped a few feet away, tilting his head, and considered simply stepping over it - the crabs seemed to take care of a lot of such mess here. It crossed his mind to make sure that it wasn't someone he knew, though, and to wonder what had killed it ( ... )

lastofvaldemar March 12 2009, 20:56:44 UTC

Vanyel pried his eyes open to the view of a boot. It blurred and ran sideways, but was clear enough that he followed the ankle upwards, turning his head ever-so-slightly towards the killing brightness of the sky. His breathing was ragged with pain and weariness as he forced his vision to focus, finding Loz's face with some difficulty. He swallowed, and that hurt too, throat protesting against membranes that felt as dry as hot sand, but it was purely physical and it was enough to bring his mind away from that blur-edged place of half consciousness.

"Help," He whispered hoarsely, the hair that had fallen across his face bowing slightly under the soft breath, "Please, I don't know what..."

The thought slipped away, saturnine and uncooperative. What little he could see of Manhattan was blurred by weakness and pain, overlaid with the bone-weariness that only comes when one is completely drained to the dregs. It was a wonder his heart was still beating as he tried falteringly to watch Loz's expression.

loz_wolf March 13 2009, 05:09:44 UTC

Loz frowned down at the guy. He was on his way back; Yazoo and Naminé would wonder where he was if he didn't get back around sunset. On the other hand, the guy was gonna be frozen crab food if he stayed out here like this, and that'd be a mess. And he was so addled he was probably new, too. Loz certainly hadn't seen him before, but that didn't mean much ( ... )

lastofvaldemar March 13 2009, 05:26:18 UTC

He tried to shake his head, but stopped, grimacing, when that rocking motion spun the word around him.

"Foot," he remembered slowly, the sensation of blood freezing in his left boot during the battle. A slow testing flex of toes found no greater agony than that injury should have caused. It had not been a serious injury, he remembered thinking, remembered remembering that it seemed less serious than it should have. If not for his all-consuming weariness, for the backlash shock and the drain of healing, he might have been able to limp with it. As it stood, simply dragging himself out here had reopened the wound and it was bleeding sluggishly red again through the blue-brown of frozen blood that already caked his boot.

"Back-lash...sickness...I can heal, take time," He hissed is gasping breaths, letting eyes fall closed with the effort of concentration. His rescuer seemed young, but silver hair gave the lie. There was only one kind of person Vanyel knew of with silver hair and the face of youth; a mage, "...with rest. Too cold."

Thread 44