Re: Intense Struggle! (Round 3 - The Wasteland)
06-16-2010, 02:42 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by SleepingOrange.
Clara had appeared in the lee of a crumbling stone wall on being transported to the wasteland. Free of the mist's insidious effects, her knees had buckled and she'd gladly sunk against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and hands over her face. Her memories of the past hours were being disobedient, refusing to line up in a cogent order, and muddled beside. It was as she was picking through apparently-faulty recollections and trying to figure out what had happened in that swamp that she heard "Oh don't worry guys. I'm fine. Nothing wrong with me. Just decided to take a little nap in the middle of the desert."
The nun looked up and opened her eyes; with a slight lurch she pushed herself off the wall and moved towards the prone nymph. "Sorry love, I think I may be a little out of it." She extended a hand to help her up, and it was promptly slapped away; Aph rolled forward and sprang back up to her usual hovering, glaring at Clara. "Oh, well don't let my death intrude on your little moment, love. I'll try to do it more quietly next time so you aren't bothered." The old woman's face, which had already shifted from its usual warm, smiling countenance to a haggard grin, flickered to hurt for a moment. "Aph, I'm sorry I-"
A pair of fuchsia hands collided with Clara's chest, sending the surprised nun sprawling; her stick tumbled away and her large holy book thudded open to a random page. Hand-illuminated scrollwork proclaimed And so in the course of events was The Prodigal found and by the eyes of... before a hot breeze scattered too much sand across the page to read further.
Aph looked down at the woman she had once loved, had once seen so full of kindness and strength, and saw nothing but a simpering old bag in a stupid hat. Realizing that she had wasted so much of herself on such a pathetic person was infuriating, and the hangdog look Clara was giving her now served only to reinforce the idea that the so-called nun was nothing but a doddering waste of space. She spit on the shifting sand, not even bothering to waste another syllable on someone so worthless. She turned and hovered away, effecting a an indignant stalk despite not moving her legs.
Clara pushed herself up into a sitting position with the heels of her hands; it was harder than she'd expected on the sand. As she watched Aph move away, confused and more than a little hurt, she idly picked up her book and shook the sand out of it. She dropped it into her lap, where it bounced open to another page. took her across the river and laid her there. He closed her eyes and laid her arms by her sides and said in a voice like thunder... Beginnings and Ends Three... Not particularly relevant to the situation at hand, but Clara had always felt using holy writ for fortune-telling was a little silly, especially when there was perfectly good magic for that purpose. After a couple of false starts, she got to her feet, and went to pick her stick back up.
The nymph was not sure where she was going; the important point was that she get away from the old bat and make sure it was obvious she was doing so. Still, directionless anger can take one only so far, and it wasn't long before Aph drew flush with Aegis and D'neya; as she saw the little girl, her skin prickled with annoyance again. Not ten seconds out of that damned mire and the little bitch was already ignoring Aph in favor of the musclebound lunkhead in the gaunlets. "Hey!"
Leaning on her stick and shielding her mouth and nose with her wimple (breathing or not, nobody wants sand in their nose), Clara had been watching Aph, wondering how the nymph planned to follow lashing out against and spitting on her. It was too far to judge expression and the hovering blob of pink that was Aph was mostly turned away anyway, but going by body language and the tone of that "Hey!", she was about to start another confrontation. It was... bizarre. Clara couldn't help wondering if this was some kind of necromantic backlash just becoming apparent after the mishap in the abandoned base. It bore watching. "Weird, innit?"
Clara turned around to see a cloud of mist, nearly invisible in the shadow of the wall, congealing into the gray form of Larus; he leaned against the weathered brick, face impassive and hands in his pockets. "Almost like she's a different person." Clara stared for a moment, one eyebrow cocked, then widened her eyes and brought a hand to her mouth. "You don't think...?"
Clara had appeared in the lee of a crumbling stone wall on being transported to the wasteland. Free of the mist's insidious effects, her knees had buckled and she'd gladly sunk against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and hands over her face. Her memories of the past hours were being disobedient, refusing to line up in a cogent order, and muddled beside. It was as she was picking through apparently-faulty recollections and trying to figure out what had happened in that swamp that she heard "Oh don't worry guys. I'm fine. Nothing wrong with me. Just decided to take a little nap in the middle of the desert."
The nun looked up and opened her eyes; with a slight lurch she pushed herself off the wall and moved towards the prone nymph. "Sorry love, I think I may be a little out of it." She extended a hand to help her up, and it was promptly slapped away; Aph rolled forward and sprang back up to her usual hovering, glaring at Clara. "Oh, well don't let my death intrude on your little moment, love. I'll try to do it more quietly next time so you aren't bothered." The old woman's face, which had already shifted from its usual warm, smiling countenance to a haggard grin, flickered to hurt for a moment. "Aph, I'm sorry I-"
A pair of fuchsia hands collided with Clara's chest, sending the surprised nun sprawling; her stick tumbled away and her large holy book thudded open to a random page. Hand-illuminated scrollwork proclaimed And so in the course of events was The Prodigal found and by the eyes of... before a hot breeze scattered too much sand across the page to read further.
Aph looked down at the woman she had once loved, had once seen so full of kindness and strength, and saw nothing but a simpering old bag in a stupid hat. Realizing that she had wasted so much of herself on such a pathetic person was infuriating, and the hangdog look Clara was giving her now served only to reinforce the idea that the so-called nun was nothing but a doddering waste of space. She spit on the shifting sand, not even bothering to waste another syllable on someone so worthless. She turned and hovered away, effecting a an indignant stalk despite not moving her legs.
Clara pushed herself up into a sitting position with the heels of her hands; it was harder than she'd expected on the sand. As she watched Aph move away, confused and more than a little hurt, she idly picked up her book and shook the sand out of it. She dropped it into her lap, where it bounced open to another page. took her across the river and laid her there. He closed her eyes and laid her arms by her sides and said in a voice like thunder... Beginnings and Ends Three... Not particularly relevant to the situation at hand, but Clara had always felt using holy writ for fortune-telling was a little silly, especially when there was perfectly good magic for that purpose. After a couple of false starts, she got to her feet, and went to pick her stick back up.
The nymph was not sure where she was going; the important point was that she get away from the old bat and make sure it was obvious she was doing so. Still, directionless anger can take one only so far, and it wasn't long before Aph drew flush with Aegis and D'neya; as she saw the little girl, her skin prickled with annoyance again. Not ten seconds out of that damned mire and the little bitch was already ignoring Aph in favor of the musclebound lunkhead in the gaunlets. "Hey!"
Leaning on her stick and shielding her mouth and nose with her wimple (breathing or not, nobody wants sand in their nose), Clara had been watching Aph, wondering how the nymph planned to follow lashing out against and spitting on her. It was too far to judge expression and the hovering blob of pink that was Aph was mostly turned away anyway, but going by body language and the tone of that "Hey!", she was about to start another confrontation. It was... bizarre. Clara couldn't help wondering if this was some kind of necromantic backlash just becoming apparent after the mishap in the abandoned base. It bore watching. "Weird, innit?"
Clara turned around to see a cloud of mist, nearly invisible in the shadow of the wall, congealing into the gray form of Larus; he leaned against the weathered brick, face impassive and hands in his pockets. "Almost like she's a different person." Clara stared for a moment, one eyebrow cocked, then widened her eyes and brought a hand to her mouth. "You don't think...?"