RE: The Battle Majestic (Round 4 - Magpie Skies)
08-16-2016, 04:24 AM
Eryntse was tangled up in the Red Monster's luxuriant beard, giggling. She would've dearly loved to play the wildest game of pattycake these Skies had ever seen with the creature, but she was a princess and princesses weren't supposed to have anything upwards of two boring hands. Jacob was fending off a blueglass orb, plated and shuttered like the business end of a hermit crab after store hours had concluded. It was either trying to be friendly or trying to eat his sword, and neither were appreciated when he had a Blitz to subdue. "Just because they helped us with the dragon, doesn't mean these things are-" - he had to pause here to nudge away the Hermit Crorb - "safe."
Sen waved an airy claw as they relaxed atop Big Red, overwhelmingly leg like a particularly green baby heron. "Her name's Coquelicot," Sen said to Eryntse, like that served as any explanation. “She’s chill, and the rest would quite suffice if you could send them home with that hole-sword of yours.”
“Unless one of these creatures had - oof - a past life as an espresso machine, that’s beyond my immediate capabilities,” said the knight, closing a portal in the wall once it stopped expelling rubble. He grabbed Blitz more-or-less gently by the ankle, and got to dragging him out. “Me and this guy - and that, uh, princess in the goatee there, we’ve got a more immediate problem.”
Jacob frowned. “You as well, if you’re actually the you I’m thinking of. On that though, my curiosity will just have to wait.”
Sen quit baring his teeth for a goddamn second, which almost managed to convey a serious expression. “You’re talking about the fight. Our fight.”
“Noooooooo please don’t fight,” wheedled Eryntse. Sen snorted, clattered down the Red Queenbeast’s flank, getting right into Eryntse’s personal space and a faceful of queenbeard for his trouble.
“Who said anything about fighting?” sneered the fruit. “Wasn’t me, and totally wasn’t that shortstack with the sword there going in to finish the job he started.”
“Can we go back to you not talking?”
“H-hey! Leave Blitz alone!”
Eryntse scuttled over, quite firmly planting herself in front of Blitz. There was rather more of her than Jacob could quite take in, even under all the ribbons and tulle, something unnerving that bade the mercenary unclench his sword-hilt. “Fine. You can take care of him, but that means take care of him. If he gets up and murders me, it’s on you.”
Blitz summarily babysat, Jacob batted a few beastly admirers aside and picked his way around Midnight’s corpse, to where Violet was standing vigil with a gang of gelatinous mauve urchins. One cradled in her arms whipped out a pseudopod, tapping her on the shoulder plap-plap. She turned around.
“Oh. Hello.”
The creature slipped from her grip, resuming Violet’s place in the circle around Steven. Another coughed up her sword into a waiting hand. “Brave hero from afar-”
“Please, let’s not do that.”
Violet sighed with relief. “Yeah, ok. I was definitely not planning to speak on behalf of the entire Skies when I woke up this morning. I’m sure Jonquil or Pearl could provide, if they think to leave the tower at some point. Seriously though, thank you for your help. My queendom isn’t far from here if there’s anything you need, although I suppose I don’t know how long you’ll be-”
“On that note - and thank you, I’ll fervently pray for five goddamn minutes where I can take you up on that - I was actually here to check up on him.”
Violet gripped her sword a little tighter. “Steven? Why?”
The merc thought long and hard about a delicate way to broach the subject. “He is dead, right?”
“Um, yes?” The queen, aggrieved, looked Jacob up and down, gesturing at his own dragonproof equipment as she went. “I don’t know if you noticed but he threw himself at Midnight with no armor, no weapon, he didn’t even have his gloves and seriously what is your problem?” She pointed an accusing finger at the broadsword, which Jacob had been leaning on to keep his hands free. “You know that’s bad for the point, right?”
“It’s a magic sword,” Jacob somehow refrained from saying. Instead:
“My problem. If Steven’s dead, may he rest in peace, then you and I shouldn’t be having this-” Jacob stopped, turned, scanned the cacophonous gathering; Sen froze mid-skulk and took a very sudden interest in the dragon corpse he was sneaking around. “-conversation. Which, actually, could we continue it somewhere private?”
“If I might interrupt-”
Jacob whirled around faster than Violet could react, his sword upon a cleaving arc for her head. Sruix, standing in the blind spot behind her, blocked the blade with a raised hand.
There was a tense moment where nobody moved, other than the beastly crowd (making enough collective noise that none of the three heard Sen go “oooooooooooooooh shit.”) “Are you here,” asked Jacob, leaning into his sword (however ineffectual) “to gloat, patronise, or explain?”
“The last one, I’m hoping. The former is more the purview of the man I’m here to warn you about.”
“And the second?”
Sruix shrugged. “Eh, we take turns on that one.”
Sen waved an airy claw as they relaxed atop Big Red, overwhelmingly leg like a particularly green baby heron. "Her name's Coquelicot," Sen said to Eryntse, like that served as any explanation. “She’s chill, and the rest would quite suffice if you could send them home with that hole-sword of yours.”
“Unless one of these creatures had - oof - a past life as an espresso machine, that’s beyond my immediate capabilities,” said the knight, closing a portal in the wall once it stopped expelling rubble. He grabbed Blitz more-or-less gently by the ankle, and got to dragging him out. “Me and this guy - and that, uh, princess in the goatee there, we’ve got a more immediate problem.”
Jacob frowned. “You as well, if you’re actually the you I’m thinking of. On that though, my curiosity will just have to wait.”
Sen quit baring his teeth for a goddamn second, which almost managed to convey a serious expression. “You’re talking about the fight. Our fight.”
“Noooooooo please don’t fight,” wheedled Eryntse. Sen snorted, clattered down the Red Queenbeast’s flank, getting right into Eryntse’s personal space and a faceful of queenbeard for his trouble.
“Who said anything about fighting?” sneered the fruit. “Wasn’t me, and totally wasn’t that shortstack with the sword there going in to finish the job he started.”
“Can we go back to you not talking?”
“H-hey! Leave Blitz alone!”
Eryntse scuttled over, quite firmly planting herself in front of Blitz. There was rather more of her than Jacob could quite take in, even under all the ribbons and tulle, something unnerving that bade the mercenary unclench his sword-hilt. “Fine. You can take care of him, but that means take care of him. If he gets up and murders me, it’s on you.”
Blitz summarily babysat, Jacob batted a few beastly admirers aside and picked his way around Midnight’s corpse, to where Violet was standing vigil with a gang of gelatinous mauve urchins. One cradled in her arms whipped out a pseudopod, tapping her on the shoulder plap-plap. She turned around.
“Oh. Hello.”
The creature slipped from her grip, resuming Violet’s place in the circle around Steven. Another coughed up her sword into a waiting hand. “Brave hero from afar-”
“Please, let’s not do that.”
Violet sighed with relief. “Yeah, ok. I was definitely not planning to speak on behalf of the entire Skies when I woke up this morning. I’m sure Jonquil or Pearl could provide, if they think to leave the tower at some point. Seriously though, thank you for your help. My queendom isn’t far from here if there’s anything you need, although I suppose I don’t know how long you’ll be-”
“On that note - and thank you, I’ll fervently pray for five goddamn minutes where I can take you up on that - I was actually here to check up on him.”
Violet gripped her sword a little tighter. “Steven? Why?”
The merc thought long and hard about a delicate way to broach the subject. “He is dead, right?”
“Um, yes?” The queen, aggrieved, looked Jacob up and down, gesturing at his own dragonproof equipment as she went. “I don’t know if you noticed but he threw himself at Midnight with no armor, no weapon, he didn’t even have his gloves and seriously what is your problem?” She pointed an accusing finger at the broadsword, which Jacob had been leaning on to keep his hands free. “You know that’s bad for the point, right?”
“It’s a magic sword,” Jacob somehow refrained from saying. Instead:
“My problem. If Steven’s dead, may he rest in peace, then you and I shouldn’t be having this-” Jacob stopped, turned, scanned the cacophonous gathering; Sen froze mid-skulk and took a very sudden interest in the dragon corpse he was sneaking around. “-conversation. Which, actually, could we continue it somewhere private?”
“If I might interrupt-”
Jacob whirled around faster than Violet could react, his sword upon a cleaving arc for her head. Sruix, standing in the blind spot behind her, blocked the blade with a raised hand.
There was a tense moment where nobody moved, other than the beastly crowd (making enough collective noise that none of the three heard Sen go “oooooooooooooooh shit.”) “Are you here,” asked Jacob, leaning into his sword (however ineffectual) “to gloat, patronise, or explain?”
“The last one, I’m hoping. The former is more the purview of the man I’m here to warn you about.”
“And the second?”
Sruix shrugged. “Eh, we take turns on that one.”
peace to the unsung peace to the martyrs | i'm johnny rotten appleseed
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow