Old April 24, 2016, 07:41 PM   #1 (permalink)
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Rose [Narim Ruins] Lost in a Moment

Timestamp: Spring of Era XXIII

An Aslanite by the name of Samir Raygan,
His Axes though were the objective at hand,
A warrior, carving his way through the Sherian,
This?
T’was just a little bit different,
When compared to the other Tasks,
Primarily due to the whole, being quite unlikely, quite indeed, to attempt using the Imperium’s own hierarchy against itself for Her Love’s agenda. And that t’was fiiiiine!
Humming away happily,
In her own manner, Éclair was dressed for War,
For all that, well, actually murdering the other potential Champions in the face? Not the Task!
Never mind that,
Well, Éclair had picked up a number of dubious habits,
Be it from her Lamian Handmaiden Friends, and Miss Noe? There, she hadn’t quite gone to such extreme’s as the Esh’lahier’s incredibly pretty and ornamental Maid dress. That would have been utterly silly within the Sherian!
No, Éclair was simply garbed in her Crimson Tea Gown,
The white stockings and black shoes with their elevated heel, and of course, the Red Hooded Cloak that matched the Dress! No, when on a Mission for Her Mister Jorel? Paid to be wearing his Gifts!
A red ribbon tying her hair back into a ponytail,
And Pain au Chocolat clasped in hand as Éclair but paused,
A momentary respite as she took off her Star of Aeternia before giving it a good Spin-Spin! Time to check for directioning!

OOC;
Secrets :

Items of Note Carried;
Mister Jorel’s Crimson Tea Dress: Super Pretty!
Diamond Earrings: Enchanted with ‘Suggestion’/Mysticism.
Golden Choker: Enchanted with ‘Absorb’/Mysticism.
Staff of Arcana: Pain au Chocolat
Mister Jorel’s Engagement Ring
x1 Healing Potion
Misc Silver & Gold bangles, rings, additional earrings.

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Old April 29, 2016, 03:41 PM   #2 (permalink)
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A girl in a red hood all on her lonesome who looked to be heading southward into the depths of the Sherian? That wasn't a sight seen every brightening - not recently, anyway, and possibly even not ever - in this part of the world. Éclair stood out like an ostrich in Arakmat; the grizzled imperial guardsmen out on patrol - the first humanoids she encountered since crossing the border, and that had been some time ago - gave her wide-eyed stares and one of them called out: "You know where you're going, girl? Ain't just wolves you'll find, if you head out this way much longer!"

There were four of them; they'd reigned in their mounts a bit to look at the girl resting by the side of the road as if they really were in Arakmat and this was one of those fabled, fevered mirages. Armed to the teeth but rather shoddily dressed, they looked like they'd seen a battle or three in their day, though never something like this. Even the horses, who had the same general air about them as their riders (that is, world-worn and battle-hardened), gave the disguised draconess sidelong glances.
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Old April 30, 2016, 05:34 AM   #3 (permalink)
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“Hrm?”
Talky-Talk,
People. Probably better company than Havina-Matata, or Creepy Kaith, and certainly the Draconess that had been posing as ‘Catherine de Lylles’ before Éclair had ran into her in the Southern Refugee Camp. No, for all that Éclair tended to find Chitter-Chatter Annoying?
Some brightenings,
The Voices in her head just needed to be drowned out a little,
Head tilting to the side,
There was only a puzzled look,
A lock of coffee-brown hair popped between the cherry red lips to nibble upon, the ends split and ragged from the decade-old habit. No, had no fear of the Big Bad Wolf. Quite the opposite in fact given her relationship with Mister Spade the Were-Uvak…but, well… some things were best left not explained,
Certainly not to Guarding Guards!
“I know.” Éclair eventually managed,
Her voice laced most thoroughly with a Lauryllian accent,
Betraying far too much time within the regions around High Peak and Frigid River; though now, there was the occasional clip that denoted time spent within the lands that had once been Enamoria. Melissa Maarkan’s accent? Oh so contagious!
”Definitely,
Positively not lost. Never.
But if you know a Mister Raygan, it would save me ever so much trouble?”
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Old May 10, 2016, 06:29 AM   #4 (permalink)
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The guards exchanged puzzled glances. Éclair's demeanour had gotten even more naive and girly - if that were possible - and clashed mightily with her words, when they came.

"Are you sure..." tried one guard doubtfully, opting rather to think that the girl had gotten completely confused as to her whereabouts than to take her statement at face value, as he well might have had Éclair been brawnier, more capable looking, more - well - male.

Another guard was diverted by the mention of Sir Raygan, however: "Sir Raygan - the knight?" He repeated in surprise; "Why, that crazy bastard - sorry, miss - who hunts undead and keeps sending up reports on how many he's killed? As if he'll ever kill 'em all." The guard snorted ungraciously. "If you're looking for him, I'd start with the worst place in Sherian - and there are a lot of those...." the guard looked hard at Éclair, the gleefully sadistic grin on his face suggesting that he was considering all the many ways a young girl in a red cape could get slaughtered (and worse) in one of those places.

"Haven't had a report from him in a while, though," said a third guard, frowning at his companion. "Not since that last one from the old Narim Castellum... you'd best not go there, miss," he advised Éclair. "Your Sir Raygan is as likely to be dead as not, anyway. What with the undead, and the orc bands roaming nearby, and the other... stuff." All four looked at Éclair, evidently expecting her to run away screaming or some such (or at least come to her senses and ask them for help getting back to civilization). None of them seemed in the least inclined to accept Éclair's assurances that she knew what she was doing.
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Old May 17, 2016, 10:36 PM   #5 (permalink)
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Patient!
Had to be!
Never mind the distracted, swaying from side to side as she nibbled upon the coffee-brown tresses that were proving to be quite ragged and split at the ends.
Guarding Guards,
Outside Her Anna-Sweetheart?
They could be so dreadfully trying upon one’s patience!
”Positive.”
Had fought her way out of Vers,
Once the Undead had taken over,
Going right back in? Oh so not a problem for the Necromancer!
Crazy? Aslanite?
The information though seemed all too promising,
Only to have a puzzled look, “Undead are dead… you don’t kill something already dead…” this was, t’was just Common Sense!
Guarding Guards,
Sigh!
“Oh that’s fine,
Well and truly.” Would make life easier,
Oh so much easier if the Knight was already dead. Then just had to loot the axes! But well, that too might be a problem if someone else had wandered off with them. No, each was Problematic!
No running, no screaming,
Just a quizzical, “So… which way is Narim Castellum?”
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Old May 23, 2016, 10:46 AM   #6 (permalink)
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Well, they'd tried. Short of taking the young miss into protective custody - for her own sake, of course - there wasn't much else the guards could do... was there? The guards exchanged uncomfortable glances at Éclair's question. Nobody wanted to be the one to send the girl to her death (because that much seemed certain), and a few of them - notably the one who'd regaled her with tales of Sir Raygan's exploits - seemed downright disappointed at her continued good cheer.

"Hem. It's, well, it's that way," one of the guards gave a vague, reluctant wave in the general direction in which Éclair had been headed toward anyway, and then got to what seemed like a much more important point to him, even if to the impartial observer it may have appeared rather redundant: "Are you sure you know what you're getting into, miss...? Wouldn't you rather come back to camp with us, rest the night, and then... decide what you want to do in the morning?" He tried to make himself sound convincing, though in the event, and with the stares of the other guards behind him all trained on Éclair, it just came out vaguely sleazy.

Nope, they really, really couldn't let go of it.
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Old June 5, 2016, 10:46 PM   #7 (permalink)
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The only Dead Necromancer,
Was, (t’was!) a Dumb Necromancer.
Hadn’t gotten quite this far because of being Insensible.
Lies.
Blatant Lies.
Oh so many Lies.
Not that Éclair had much fear of the Sherian,
Not when she’d been living within Vers during much of the Rebellion,
And had had to well, find her own means of working her way through the Undead and other Refugees.
Vague directions?
Totally acceptable! Beaming happily,
Head tilting to the side, there was a flick of coffee-brown tresses before once again, Éclair claimed a much gnawed upon lock to nibble upon.
StAre.
Had spent so many Era’s,
Most deliberately trying to avoid unwanted attention,
That such was only for Her Mister Jorel and well, a decade had passed and much had Changed. All things did given enough time, such was His way.
”Sure enough,
Thanking you!” Éclair confirmed,
A flash of a dimpled smile. “But if you’re Interested, I certainly wouldn’t mind a bodyguard… or four?”
Sleazy? Meh!
Perhaps, but Éclair had done worse in His Name.
Aeternia below, one only needed to look at the escapes the Toy had resulted in to Understand that she’d been dragged into his spiral of depravities rather than it being the other way around. Not that anyone seemed to believe her there, t’was a shame! But to bring Souls to Her Mister Jorel, there was very little that Éclair wouldn't do either if and when push came to shove,
”I can’t really pay much,
But I’d be ever, ever so appreciative!”
She added, a light touch of the Suggestion laced earrings,
A light touch of her fingertips against the low bodice of the crimson tea dress she wore,
"It's incredibly Important,
That I reach Mister Raygan and, well, y'know!"
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Old June 10, 2016, 08:24 AM   #8 (permalink)
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The guards glanced at each other at the girl's offer.

"Waiting for us back at camp," one of them grunted to his mates.

"Feth, Mack, this won't take long..."

"Maybe, maybe not."

"And leave her alone out here?"

"Made her bed, needs to sleep in it."

"Could see what Mad Ray is up to... bet the Sarge wouldn't mind that."

"He'd mind getting our balls on a platter from the orcs, though,"

"Feth, I'd mind that."

"All right then."

They'd argued in somewhat lowered voices, ignoring Éclair for a moment before all pros and cons were, it appeared, exhausted and they turned back to look at the problem in the red cape.

The gist of the conversation hadn't sounded promising, but with a bit of a nudge... common guardsmen weren't really known for their mental capacities, after all.

"Right, then, Georg and Vance are going to escort you. Mack and I need to get back to Breecetoun and make our report." The guard who'd done most of the talking thus far announced.

Mack didn't seem particularly happy about this, but Vance - the sleazy one - gave Éclair a leer and Georg, who seemed to be the youngest, didn't seem to mind terribly either.

So that was that: two of the guards went on their way, two stayed with Éclair. Vance patted the front of his saddle: "Want a ride, girl?... Wouldn't mind knowing your name, either, seeing as we're going to be spending some time you your.. ah.. company."
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Old June 17, 2016, 12:58 AM   #9 (permalink)
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Lots of Talky-Talk,
Most of which, ultimately?
Éclair deemed entirely irrelevant.
Little of it would help her get to the Aslanite’s Axes,
Little of it would allow for anything that might promote Change and Corruption,
But still Éclair smiled cheerfully,
All dimples and joy as she waited for the Guarding Guards to come to a resolution.
Content.
Lots of colourful language!
Pros and Cons that, well, Éclair? Hardly concerned one way or the other. Their presence one that would make life easier or harder, and either way? Mister Jorel Protected!
”Oh! Niftiness!”
Not that Éclair knew… oh,
CReeperEr & Youth. Well, unlikely then that Malüm would need to work too heavily on the first, and the latter? One way to find out! A flash of white teeth at the pair,
”You your?”
An arched brow, the somewhat,
Well, perhaps a little addled grin softening with mischief,
A wave at the departing Guarding Guards,
“But thanking you, I did mean it. Most helpful!” she added,
Nodding her head and unbuttoning the Crimson Cloak; folding it all up, rolling it all up to add to the Basket! “Clairé from Vers.” Came the response and taking ready advantage over the offer of not having to deal with the whole Walking thing,
Bonus!
And trouble being trouble,
“So how long do you think it’ll take to reach,
To find Sir Raygan? Your friends seemed to think it’d be a bit of time, ya?”
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Old June 25, 2016, 12:23 PM   #10 (permalink)
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Vance's grin grew as Éclair took off the scarlet cloak and he pulled her up onto the horse behind him. "Keep as tight a hold of me as you need, Clairé." He winked at her, though the gesture definitely was not of the "cheery" variety - more of the "lascivious" variety.

He set the animal in motion with a good kick, which meant that Éclair pretty much had to do as he'd asked or risk simply slipping off the horse's rump. Riding double certainly saved her from walking, but it wasn't the most comfortable experience ever, either - definitely not like riding in Melissa's carriage or anything like that! It was also, let it be noted, rather less pleasing to the olfactory senses, unless of course one liked the strong smell of horse mixed with unwashed male.

As for how long it was going to take them to find Sir Raygan...? Vance shrugged. "Isn't too far to the Castellum, it's what's between here and there that makes it as interesting as a trip down the Umblat. Ever seen a real orc up close and personal? I have."

Vance, as Éclair would realize relatively quickly (if she hadn't already) was something of a braggart. And that tendency only became exacerbated the longer they rode forward. The other guard Georg, on the other hand, kept relatively quiet, though he kept shooting glances at Vance that got less and less pleasant, and glances at 'Clairé' that got less and less disinterested, too.

Sometime in mid-afternoon they came across the remnants of an old campsite that Vance quickly identified as orcish, though on somewhat dubious grounds, as Georg was rather quick to point out. Their bickering lasted for a good few candle marks, up until the sun was beginning to sink low on the horizon and it was time to make camp.

Éclair found herself - and her thighs, in particular - inconveniently sore. 'Inconveniently,' that is, because over their meagre meal over a low fire ("don't need to draw any more attention than necessary out here," Georg explained,) it became increasingly evident that both Vance and Georg wanted to, shall we say, 'protect' Clairé of Vers from the elements overnight (among other things). And, increasingly, neither was willing to back down.

The atmosphere around the flickering fire had become thick and tense, and Éclair... Éclair felt a niggling desire within herself to resolve it.
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Old June 26, 2016, 12:22 AM   #11 (permalink)
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Between Vance’s Creepering,
And Éclair’s own cheerful, if not deranged smile?
They might even have balanced out somewhat into a semblance of normalcy,
But probably not.
T’was on a Mission,
And ensuring that she obtained the Axes of,
One apparently psychotic Samir Raygan the Aslanite?
No, there really wasn’t all that much cause to be anyone other than herself and see where Mister Jorel led her. A couple extra Guarding Guards might have been better, given the whole, Psychotic Aslanite… but well, Éclair as she clambered up behind Vance and wrapped her arms around the Guarding Guard? No, best to simply see where things went and deal with Problems then and there!
Such as, as she was caught,
Between the Unwashed and Horsey Smell,
And an almost depressing amount of Talky-Talk from Vance?
Éclair just sighed and closed her eyes, a peaceful smile as she rested her cheek against the Guarding Guard’s back and only occasionally sent a somewhat more mischievous grin towards Georg whenever she caught the younger Guard looking their way,
Orc?
“That must have been terrifying…” Éclair ventured,
Trying not to laugh, not when, all told? Definitely no fear of Orcs.
That for better or worse, within the Ex’s own escapades and what he’d dragged Éclair into?
One Hazudar T. Badass had become a part of the young Jorelite’s increasingly sordid past.
Mostly though,
Éclair kept quiet and listened,
Amused in her own way as the brightening unfolded,
And that, as ever, trouble simply seemed to follow behind the young Jorelite.
That, as the encampment was claimed,
Of dealing with the side effects of travel, nursing a little life back into her sore legs,
It’d been Era’s since she’d really gone riding. Not when Melissa-Doll’s Carriage or Anna-Sweetheart’s Cart was far more useful. But t’was an existence, and it was, t’was a little better than having sore feet.
The Cold on the other hand,
That? That Éclair could well do without.
Gnawing idly upon a lock of coffee-brown hair, the Talky-Talk,
Well, both involving Éclair and yet curiously also resulting in Georg and Vance seemingly ignoring the Jorelite’s own say in matters. Curious and amusing, as Discord simply Happened. Really, well and truly not Understanding as she nibbled upon the strands of hair,
She’d done worse.
When the LeToy Incident was the Baseline for Bad,
She’d found the limits of what was acceptable in Scary or Pretty, and well? While Éclair very, very much preferred Dolls to Toys ever since the Iori-Ex? Pliable Meat-Shields for the whole, Psychotic Aslanite?
No, Éclair just smiled,
Dark eyes all but obscured by thick lashes as instead her focus was upon the pathetically small fire,
No, Samir Raygan and the Axes was, t’was,
All that really mattered. And when she’d been tasked with Conversion for the Dollhouse? Éclair just smiled.
Fingertips idly plucking at the dark red buttons of the Red Tea Dress as a resolution really was, t’was ever so simple.
“Soooo…
Bedtime?” Éclair ventured, head tilting to the side,
Her attention finally drifting away from the fire and towards Vance and Georg alike,
The temptation to bring about a resolution one caught between warring over wanting nothing more than to watch the Discord unfold, and simply wanting to throw Guarding Guards at an Aslanite Hero for much the same effect.
”If you would give your promise to serve My Mister Gentleman,”
Words once again reinforced with the hint of Suggestion as Éclair smiled sweetly,
An expression that bordered upon innocent tranquility even as her fingers kept dropping buttons to reveal more pale skin than not, “And shall all three of us get a little cosier? It’s the least I can do reward such gallant Knights now for braving the Sherian, and it is quite cold… just a little promise, and I would be most welcome for your ‘protection’ until we find Sir Raygan?”
Tomorrow would be a different set of issues,
But when in doubt? The Dollhouse required Souls.
Miss Tiyribi might have gone to lengths to make her a 'Lady',
But, well, as the top of Éclair's Crimson Tea Gown bunched about her hips?
That particular challenge was proving difficult given the Aeternian's own sense of morality.
"Promise?"
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Old July 9, 2016, 08:25 PM   #12 (permalink)
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The thought of bedtime - not just thought, but so openly expressed - for a brief moment seemed only to exacerbate the tension that had fallen over the little camp. Vance's hand had inched dangerously close to where he'd dropped his eating knife in the past few minutes. Discord successfully sowed!

But what exactly would Éclair reap from it?

The suggestion, coupled with the very different, but perhaps no less potent, suggestion, shifted the dynamic all at once. Frankly, it was doubtful whether either guard concerned themselves overmuch with "Clairé's" mention of a certain Mister Gentleman, especially seeing as that Gentleman - whoever he was - was clearly not there (not in a way that counted, anyway). If one were to ask either of them about it later, they probably would respond with a blank "Mister Gentleman who?" and then proceed to grin a bit foolishly in the knowledge that there had most certainly not been any gentlemen present that evening. Or night.

Still, agreement was agreement, even if one didn't quite understand what one was agreeing to. In the end, everyone got what they wanted - for now at least - even if it meant that Éclair wasn't getting any breaks. But what's a bit more soreness - or a lot of soreness - for a good cause! Never mind that something in the back of her mind niggled with the thought that was wrong. That this wasn't good. That she was guilty...

Never mind, too, that it became evident fairly early on that sharing wasn't a lesson neither guard seemed to have learned terribly well, and that Éclair had to deal with the consequences of that.

Still, on the bright side, they ended up staying awake a lot longer as a result, which meant that they all became aware at the same time when something bellowed deeply from the wood off to the right and something swished and thunked right next to Éclair. Georg, who'd been under the covers on that side of her, let out a howl that wasn't quite drowned out by the sudden war-whoops that sounded from around the clearing's edge. The horses screamed.

The fire had died into embers by now, and there wasn't enough light to make out anything in the surrounding darkness. But the sounds were unmistakeable: orcs! And the unfortunate trio was prey.
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Old July 10, 2016, 12:12 AM   #13 (permalink)
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Subtle was for other people.
And when, Éclair was under no delusions (Kay, maybe some),
That Her Love, had been quite firm about the Worshippers - not Corpses thing? Well, it had made for a dreadfully limited means of converting New Faithful without certain sacrifices having to be made,
Not least of which,
As Georg and Vance rather,
Dispensed with Courtesies and there was the corresponding yelp of surprise as events escalated in a manner oh so different from the one that Vance the Knife-Happy had been deliberating.
She’d regret it come morning.
Éclair always did. The Three-Faced God ensured,
That niggling unease and uncertainty that ironically only ensured that the Jorelite’s headspace was that much more chaotic,
The faint smile of mischief,
As her gaze caught the light of the fire,
Only to crawl over to where Vance and Georg had been a little too...tense,
Regrets would be had, but for now? Agreements were far too Important when the Dollhouse needed more Souls!
"Accord."
Was all that Éclair said as they shared the sheepish look,
A simple Understanding as she quietly began to undress Georg and Vance without so much as a word,
Curious and methodical, caring far more with ensuring that she kept her Word in spite of the growing wrongness,
That ran in strict counter to the growth to be encouraged as she alternated between providing Vance and Georg with some incentive to put aside their differences,
As the evening wore on,
Into the night, and Éclair was coming to realise,
That a brightening tomorrow on a horse was going to be even less fun as Playtime…?
Sharing really was a lesson that probably should have been learned given the Guarding Guards ages, but oh well!

~!

Candlemarks whiled away,
The fire all but dead, and everything going to Aeternia in a picnic basket!
Orcs! Umm.
Not exactly a Problem,
Just. Éclair didn’t think, that they’d be,
Quite up for partaking of the same detour that she’d offered Vance and Georg,
No, highly improbable, that those Greenskins within the Sherian would be anywhere near as Courteous or Fun or Interesting as one Hazudar T Badass. T’was a shame, but well, such was, t’was life! Bad Timing all round.
”Oh don’t you dare die.” Éclair cursed in frustration,
The back of her hand habitually wiping at her mouth as Vance's release really had,
Had quite tragic timing all round,
As Georg was seemingly having a bad time of things given the howling (and really, given Georg's intimacy with her derrière? If anyone should have been voicing complaints it t'was her, rather hoping that it wasn’t, t’wasn’t fatal. That would be awkward for precisely two reasons that the young woman could think of.
The whole Meat-Shields Thing? Éclair rather wanted that to be when it came time to deal with a certain Samir Raygan, not Orcs! Too Soon! Had a set of Aslanite Axes to claim!
No, as much as Éclair positively thrived on Chaos and Discord?
She’d also much rather not have an angry Orcish war party descending upon her when sandwiched between two Guarding Guards. Which, all in all? Not how Éclair wanted to go out! Nope!
Upside?
Harder to be hit when surrounded by Toys so!
Which did at least make,
For a few choice curses within the Lamian tongue,
The slithering syllables both reassuring and appropriate to the situation as Éclair,
Unleashed a Cripple +1 into the immediate environment. Trying to K.O. anything and everything that was nearby and not within actual physical contact with the Jorelite.
Who’d have thought it,
Perhaps Vance the Braggart was,
T’was actually correct about it being an Orcish camp!
Éclair? Just a little impressed by that, even if she still wished the pair didn't smell quite so much like horses.
Dolls really were oh so much better.
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Old July 27, 2016, 07:58 PM   #14 (permalink)
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If their little camp hadn't already descended into outright chaos, maybe Vance or Georg would have had the presence of mind to be startled at the sibilant sounds their partner in red had just been uttering; as it was, Éclair's proficiency in Lamia remained unremarked upon.

Georg, howling, was fumbling about for his sword; Vance managed to get to a crouch and leap to his sword, providing Éclair with a nice visual of an extremely hairy, unfortunately pale bottom in the process. It made an excellent target, too, one that the orcs surely wouldn't have minded aiming at... maybe Éclair's crippling would help with that?

There were lots of grunts and howls and crunches now coming from the surrounding line of trees, too, and from beyond Vance's behind the girl could see a large shadow roll forward onto the ground. But maybe Éclair had missed something, because there was another whistle of arrows, one of which stuck Vance right in the target-area while another sailed just over his head. She could see the trajectory of the missiles now that they were hitting right in front of her: they were coming from above, from up in the trees. Vance's howls now joined those of Georg and the orcs, though at least he'd managed to reach his sword.

And while the orcs were down, they weren't out, either. The shadow Éclair might note past Vance was grunting and trying to scramble to his feet in a bid to continue his rushing attack - albeit kind of awkwardly. Likely as not, the others were trying to do the same. Orcs were dumb: at the end of the day they were likelier to understand an axe to the face rather than a sudden onslaught of crippling hurt that came out of "nowhere". It was one of their many "charms", no doubt.
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Old August 23, 2016, 11:56 PM   #15 (permalink)
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This really was,
T’was just an absolute mess!
Inconsiderate was, t’was what it was!
T’was!
Had an Aslanite to deal with,
And here now, had to deal with the ever so rude presence,
Of far too many Orcs meddling with Negotiations & Potential Mooks for the Dollhouse!
Seriously,
Already knew, that neither,
Would ever fit the criteria for Specials,
But just as true, Éclair had rather hoped they’d serve as meat shields in the interim,
But in the here and now?
There, Éclair was in her element,
Even if such included a rolling of her eyes, and a deft little weave of Entropy to at least purge the hairy derrière to the metaphorical baby’s bottom smoothness. Dolls, truly preferable! And when dealing with the alternative, well, a Satyr and a Were-Uvak had far more appeal in the Scary department than either Guarding Guard,
One problem down surely!
Which meant the whole, Orcs dilemma.
Nose wrinkling, a flick of her hand to brush aside the coffee-brown tresses as she really, just didn’t want to deal with this. Not really. T’wasn’t Georg & Vance onerous enough?! Ohwell!
Namely, Arrows were Bad.
Had a target?
Had a direction? Had, well,
A most severe allergy to the whole, Dying thing. No, the only Dead Necromancer was a Dumb Necromancer, and really, the notion of having to explain to the Trash Collector God that there’d been a horrible mistake wasn’t really high on the Jorelite’s agenda for New & Interesting Things to Experience!
Tree’s and Arrows!
Lots of wood which made for a blast of Defoliate,
Striving to bring the flora to nothingness and the wooden components of the weapons too,
And, well,
With a grump and a grumble,
Dragging herself out of the rumpled bedding,
Run, Run, Running Away?
Perhaps admittedly time to cut her losses,
But one problem at a time! Firstly? Don’t get shot!
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