1. Welcome to Umbra Roleplaying! We are an 18+ multi-genre roleplaying and writing community open to writers of all types. Sign up today to have access to our forums and join our other talented members!

    After signing up, be sure to check your spam folder for our confirmation email. Due to the nature of most email servers' filters, emails from Umbra are often incorrectly marked as spam. Don't forget to check your spam folder and mark our emails as safe so you can continue to receive emails and notifications from your new roleplaying home!

 FxF  Fantasy  Romance  Erotic {Fated or Foolish} (Oracle + Atlas)

Discussion in 'Roleplay Haven' started by Oracle, Aug 31, 2019.

  1. Oracle

    Oracle Super Asian Member

    Joined:
    Aug 22, 2019
    Messages:
    34
    Likes Received:
    78
    Local Time:
    2:15 AM
    As tired as she was, Shea kept herself alert and focused as they boarded the cabin. The long, lightly-built craft was spelled to be even lighter and she could almost taste the magic as they shuffled toward their seats. She began to take stock of the fellow passengers when Cy spoke, her attention immediately drawn to the agent's rougher voice and tone. "Of course," she answered, swiftly slipping into her seat. Once Cy sat Shea reached over to take her hand, squeezing tight as she watched the other passengers file on past them.

    "There must be a stop on the way to Istanbul," she murmured as a trio of pale green humanoids shuffled past, long stalks covered in leaves sprouting from their scalps and intricately branded padded masks covering their mouths. She looked away from the line and to Cy, leaning slightly forward to catch her gaze. "Don't tell me you're anxious about," she began but paused. Shea hated to be called out on her insecurities, especially in public. She could afford Cy the same consideration. "Anxious about meeting my family?" she continued, opting for an easier alternative.

    Before Cy could respond a hulking woman with skin the tone of algae stomped past, glaring at Shea through small black eyes set over a wide mouth full of pointed, oversized teeth. Shea glared right back, though she forced herself to stop when the prasine lady was too far back to see without turning in her seat. "Well, we're definitely making a stop on the way," she growled as she sank down in her seat, glowering at the tray in front of her. "They aren't supposed to come anywhere near the homeland. Whatever. It's fine! It's fine." She looked at Cy. "It's fine," she said a third time, proving that it was not fine.

    The hatch was shut and secured, and the flight attendants dispersed along the plane to their individual stations. Their section had a slender serpentine fellow with slitted eyes and blade-shaped strands of hair slicked back flat along his narrow head. "Hello everyone, my name is Ssssssstanley, and I will be your attendant for today'sssss flight. We welcome you today on our flight from Bosssston to Isssstanbul with a ssssstopover in Lissssbon. If you will turn your attention to the front of the plane, I will now review the ssssafety manual and procsssssseduressssss."

    Outside a bored elf climbed into his padded, sheltered saddle atop a gigantic bird. "Gwon, Wingy," he encouraged boredly, flicking the guide straps toward the waiting cabin as the boarding tube slid back. A pair of winged folk fixed straps to the hardpoints all around the cabin, then attached them in a neat and careful order to a T-shaped grip. The huge roc trundled toward it, massive head turning and twisting as it approached the device. It was a procedure the big bird knew well, had trained and carried out dozens of times. The elf plucked at his headset, turning it on and tuning in to the local air traffic. "Tower, this's Manny, flyin' outta gate 9A w'Wingy the Roc. Flight plan filed unner, uh... shit, hol' up, tower, I jus' had the number, o'er..."

    "Manny, this is tower, uuuuuhhhh... yeah, we got your plan here, looks like... looks like you're, ah, good to go. Light headwind comin' in over the Atlantic, make sure you get good altitude before you begin glide, over."

    "Tower, Manny, copy that. Blue skies'n'high tides to ye, o'er'n'aught."

    Shea looked out through the window as the cabin first shifted slightly, and then lifted entirely off of the ground, swaying slightly at first as the huge bird lifted it and began to ascend. Her hand tightened in Cyanea's. She had never flown Roclite before, but now she knew she likely would not do so again. "So tell me about the most interesting place you've gone," she said quickly, turning her attention to Cy and hoping to distract the obviously nervous agent from the rocking cabin. "Your job must take you to all kinds of fascinating locales, right? Do you have a favorite?"
     
  2. Atlas

    Atlas That's just, like, your opinion, man. Member

    Joined:
    Aug 31, 2019
    Messages:
    18
    Likes Received:
    10
    Local Time:
    2:15 AM
    Cy’s aerial anxieties were forgotten about momentarily as Shea tried--and failed--to convince herself that everyone was indeed fine. A flicker of a smirk crossed the agents face as the half-fae shuffled in her seat. Had Shea wings, Cy was sure she would see them trembling right about now as the hulking woman with the greenish skin and sharp teeth stomped past.

    “You know, when I was a little girl, my grandmother used to say all kinds of things about mermaids,” Cyanea began, reclining back in her seat as best she could (not all that well). Her head pressed back on her seat as she awkwardly shifted her legs to the side in a weak attempt to stretch them out toward the aisle. “‘Sparkling half-tail hussies,’ she liked to call them. I never quite understood why she disliked them so much until I actually met one. Beryl was nice enough, but goddess all she could talk about was how the sea salt gave her such luxurious, shimmering skin.”

    The take off procedures were underway. All passengers had settled into their seats and the RocLite staff had begun to outline safety instructions they all had heard a hundred times before. As the ginormous bird shifted, shifting the passengers with him, Cyanea felt her heart beat forcefully in her chest. She felt her companion’s hand press against hers, and a rush as cool as spring water seemed to flow from Shea’s fingertips through Cy’s skin.

    “Being an MCAB agent is about twenty percent exciting, legendary adventures, and eighty percent paperwork,” she replied, smiling wanly. “Sometimes that paperwork can be pretty spicy, though.”

    As they jolted into the air, Cyanea could feel her stomach begin to turn. If this had been a true vacation, perhaps she would have appealed to Shea for a cruise, instead.

    “There was this one case, however,” she began slowly, closing her eyes as the roc found clumsily discovered its balance in the air. Was this particular creature new to the job?

    “I had been specifically assigned to the case due to its nature,” she explained, shaking away her reservations with a flick of the head. “It was reported that a small collection of sirens were holding gatherings in a secluded swampland area down south. Typically, friendly gatherings aren’t something MCAB worries about all that much, but this report coincided with numerous other reports of mysterious disappearances of a number of locals in the area.

    “Because I’m the only agent this side of Mykonos who can speak Sireni fluently, I was asked to investigate. So I head down there and start asking around for information, not unlike what I did with you. I receive various conflicting reports about a handful of locals disappearing. All of them males of various species, which according to all the stereotypes points directly to sirens.

    “So after interviewing about twenty ‘witnesses,’ I tread through the swamplands to where these sirens are said to make their home. The entire landscape for miles around is dark, dank, brimming with life but all if it hidden amongst shadows.

    “I finally reach this coven of sirens, if you will. The leader is this woman with large glassy eyes the color of algae, not unlike your friend there,” Cy added cheekily, slyly gesturing to the woman Shea had glared at only a few moments before.

    “Somethin’ from the cart, dearie?”

    “Hm?” Cyanea turned her attention from Shea, redirecting onto a wizened old woman hunched over a snack cart. The woman smiled at her with teeth too white and pristine for someone of such an advanced age, her body squeezed into a crisp white RocLite steward uniform. A bouquet of colorful feathers adorned the collar of the old woman’s blouse.

    “A snack? Something to drink?”

    “Oh, a Mer-la-Cola would suffice. Shea, anything for you?” Cy asked, taking the cold can the steward handed over.
     
  3. Oracle

    Oracle Super Asian Member

    Joined:
    Aug 22, 2019
    Messages:
    34
    Likes Received:
    78
    Local Time:
    2:15 AM
    Shea hung on to every word as tightly as she could. It was an interesting story, to be sure. She wanted to know how it ended. What the sirens had done with the men whom they had lured into the swamp. She did her best to keep her eyes open but the moment the attendant rattled up with her cart of snacks all awareness began to fade. She closed her eyes, only for a second! she told herself. Almost before she finished the thought she was asleep, her head sinking down to rest on Cy's shoulder.

    A commercial played on the television against the wall. Come on down to Selkie Sam's for the best deal in automotion! Humanoid? Finned? Tentacles? Claws? Whatever your make, we have a model for you! At Selkie Sam's! Her mother stood at the window, looking outside through the blinds. She was young again, whole like she had never been after the botched rite. A word rippled through air thick enough to see, the vibrations radiating out from molecule to molecule. Her mother turned toward her and outside the window a deep cave opened up wide. In the middle of the cave a geyser sat brimming with light wrapped fast in shadow. Her mother's mouth opened. Attention, passengers. Attention, passengers. Her head smacked against the wall--

    "Due to unforeseen weather conditions we are initiating an emergency landing,"
    Stanley was explaining from his seat at the front of the cabin, the theatrical hissing abandoned. The plane was shaking violently, and Shea clutched at the arms of her seat as awareness trickled in around the throb in her head.

    She looked over at Cyanea, blinking rapidly. "How long was I asleep!? What's going on??" She looked instead to the window and outside, but all she could see was swirling sand.

    "Please strap in and prepare for landing," Stanley said nervously. "We'll be setting down, um... somewhere in Africa. Thank you for flying RocLite Air, and--"

    "Never gorram doin' so again!" a passenger snarled, and Stanley opted to let the sentiment stand.

    "Fuck," Shea muttered, and reached over to take the agent's hand as they continued to shake and rock through the air. "It's going to be okay," she said more loudly, squeezing her companion's hand. "They design these things to drop safely, you know--bottom-weighted, padded and shockproof. We'll be fine. We'll be fine--"

    She was still trying to assert how fine they would be when the entire cabin lurched violently sideways and flipped, spinning upside down and then over again. Doors sprang open and luggage rained out into the cabin from the overhead bays, and Shea heard herself utter a brief scream before her own luggage smacked into her torso and winded her. The cabin rolled another three-quarters of the way over, suspending them at the highest spot for a gut-wrenching moment - Shea's bag flew down and she saw it collide with another passenger's head - before the tubular structure groaned and rocked back down, coming to a halt at only a slight angle.

    Shea coughed, rubbing at her own bruised torso, peering again through the window. Sand was still battering the glass but she thought she could see land, too. It had better be land, she told herself. "See?" she managed to croak to Cy. "We're fine. Just... fine."
     
    • Like Like x 1
  4. Atlas

    Atlas That's just, like, your opinion, man. Member

    Joined:
    Aug 31, 2019
    Messages:
    18
    Likes Received:
    10
    Local Time:
    2:15 AM
    A slumbering fae resting against her shoulder wasn’t something Cy was intimately acquainted with, but she found it not at all unpleasant. Waving the RocLite attendant away, Cyanea heaved a deep sigh of… relief? Contentment? No, surely neither of those (her fingers were tap, tap, tapping against the too-short armrest separating her and Shea’s seats too rapidly to reflect any all-encompassing sense of ease). But… something. Something soothing and enjoyable, even if the edges of such feelings were fuzzy and difficult for Cy to fully grasp.

    She allowed Shea to sleep without interruption. Imagining what torment the fae had suffered in less than twenty-four hours, Cy could easily believe it had been too long since Shea had received the opportunity to rest. They were in for a long, dull flight. Might as well pass the hours away with a trip to dreamland.

    Before too long, Cy felt herself slipping into her own hazy rest, fingers loosely wrapped around an empty cup of Mer-la-Cola. Cy’s eyelashes fluttered gently as she napped, chin resting against the soft blond hair atop Shea’s head. Though sirens never fully slept--they shared a similar biological characteristic with the unremarkable dolphin, brains remaining half “on” to keep them alive in the dangerous swamps and oceans while the other half slept--Cyanea had inherited the ability to rest more thoroughly with only a moderate awareness of her surroundings.

    It was due to this awareness that Cyanea awoke moments before the pilot’s panicked announcement sounded through the cabin, the scales along her body tensing against her confining clothing as if preparing for defense.

    Her companion was jolted awake by the commotion, immediately attempting to find words to soothe. Cyanea’s fingers instinctively responded to Shea’s comforting squeeze, though any miniscule amount of comfort she might have found was snatched away from her tenuous grasp as the roc began to plummet through the air. Bony limbs tumbled over one another as luggage, loose trinkets, and a few unbuckled passengers crashed across the aisles. Incoherent yells bounced back and forth, surrounding Cy on all directions.

    It all came to a violent halt as the roc plowed into the… sand? A dusty khaki cloud seemed to surround the cabin. Passengers groaned and cried out as disheveled attendants attempted to corral everyone’s attention to commence emergency exit procedures. Cy’s eyes were wide, her pale face tinged with a sickly green hue.

    “Yeah, we’re fine,” she muttered, unfastening her safety belt with a quick snap of her hand. “You all right?” she asked, quickly scanning Shea for any obvious injuries. “Come on, we need to get out of here and figure out what in the seven hells just happened.”

    Among the chaos, Cy recovered her backpack, did what she could to assist Shea in finding her own lost belongings. Passengers leapt down from the cabin’s exit with the aid of a particularly bulky orc-ish looking creature to catch them before they hit the ground. Cy waved away such assistance, instead preferring to fall from the cabin and sink into the sand beneath.

    She turned, holding out her long arms to help Shea. “Looks like we’ve landed in a desert,” she said with a heavy sigh. “Because what do fish people love more than anything? Deserts.”
     
    • Love Love x 1
  5. Oracle

    Oracle Super Asian Member

    Joined:
    Aug 22, 2019
    Messages:
    34
    Likes Received:
    78
    Local Time:
    2:15 AM
    Shea was moderately sure that she had a broken rib or two. Bruised at the very least. She shifted where she sat, flexing her torso, but the pain didn't stab or jolt. "I think I'm good," she answered. The other passengers were stirring slowly, the shock of the crash landing clearly still reverbrating through them. One of the naga's coils were twitching in a way Shae found distinctly disturbing and it took her a long moment to stop staring. Fortune had it that her luggage hadn't flown too far away from her impacted side, and she scooped it up before following the agent down to the emergency exit.

    "Well. I'm sure it's not the worst-case scenario. Not yet, anyway." She let the agent help her down, hopping lightly into her arms. She was much lighter than she looked, and her flats stayed on top of the sand rather than sinking into it. "I bet the roc just got exhausted by the desert heat. Once it's rested, maybe had a nice cool drink--" She rounded the cabin pod midsentence and stopped talking. The giant bird was a few hundred feet away, laying at an angle that made it horribly apparent how very severely dead the big bird was. Its elven handler was nowhere in sight--perhaps because the bird's head was buried so deep in the sand. "Oh," she said softly, feeling distinctly queasy.

    She turned away from the gruesome sight and stepped back into the shade of the pod as more passengers hopped down into the sand and heat. "Okay. Or not." Shea reached down into her pocket to retrieve her phone and swore in elvish. The screen was shattered and dark. The crash had been a bit more violent than she had initially thought. "Okay," she said again, huffing out a long sigh. "Okay, well. There has to be something, right? In situations like this there's always something. I bet there's a compass on the pod. Some kind of emergency kit for situations like this."

    A dull burning sort of feeling that had nothing to do with the brutal desert heat settled low in her gut. She tried to calm herself down, tried to think, but it was like everything she had ever learned about anything had disappeared completely from her head. Here she was in the middle of gods-only-knew-where with a fish person, a giant dead bird, and fifty-odd other strangers. They would be lucky to survive the day, let alone get a stupid compass. "Oh, we're fucked," she said softly, sitting down in the sand heavily. "We're so completely fucked."

    The phone hit the sand and Shea opened her luggage. "This was stupid," she told Cy as she dug out a spare shirt, a white-yellow-red plaid piece. She began to fix it over her head, covering her hair and ears and tying the sleeves down. "This was SO incredibly fucking stupid! I'm sorry, really, I - I have no idea what I was thinking. Just... fly out! Right? I'm an idiot, and I dragged you along with me." She stood and threw her hands up, staring at the agent with eyes that began to fill with tears. "I'm sorry for this. Really." She turned and gestured at the dead bird on the other side of the pod. "But to be fair who the shit could have guessed that any of this would happen!?"
     
    • Love Love x 1
  6. Atlas

    Atlas That's just, like, your opinion, man. Member

    Joined:
    Aug 31, 2019
    Messages:
    18
    Likes Received:
    10
    Local Time:
    2:15 AM
    Bright, round eyes watched intently as Shea crumbled beneath the weight of her various tragedies. Cyanea shook her head as the half-fae began to berate and insult herself, apologizing profusely for things that were very much not her fault. “Hey, no, no, you’re not going to speak about yourself that way,” Cy said, reaching for the other woman’s wrist. “You’re scared and exhausted, and you have every right to feel like that, but we have other things to think about right now. Calling yourself stupid isn’t helping anyone, and as far as I know it isn’t true anyway.”

    She offered her companion a soft smile and patted her affectionately. The motion was intended to be comforting, though Cy couldn’t help but feel somewhat awkward as her large hand capped Shea’s delicate shoulder. “Ahem,” she sounded, clearing her throat, looking away at the cluster of survivors and strew about luggage. She spotted her backpack among the piles and moved to grab it, taking a page from Shea’s book and finding a thin shirt to wrap about her head like a scarf.

    “Aside from paperwork, the next most time-consuming aspect of my job is investigation,” Cy explained. “What better time to investigate than now? There’s a whole group of people here who have no idea what the deep hell is going on, just like us. Maybe if we put our heads together we can figure out a plan. No one is ever fully alone,” she added thoughtfully.

    Cyanea approached the small gathering of passengers. Each one looked just about how Cy and Shea felt. Bruises were already forming on a number of individuals. Some stood with dried blood caked to various parts of their bodies, others stood doubled over in pain due to some internal injury. Cy sighed, rubbing at what she was sure was (at least) a sprained left wrist. Her cramped position in the pod seemed to have somewhat helped her during the chaos. She couldn’t feel any other injuries, though perhaps the adrenaline simply hadn’t left her body yet, acting as a mask for a variety of aches and pains she’d feel once the excitement of the crash subsided.

    “Does anyone know what happened here?” she called out, voice rising in a strange, sing-song manner above the panicked chatter. Although Cyanea didn’t seem to be speaking any more loudly than usual, somehow her voice carried above the rest, brushing all other noises gently away until all eyes were on her and Shea. “Better yet, does anyone know where we are? Our location must have been tracked prior to the crash. We’ll need to form some kind of plan to get us all to civilization safely, so if anyone has any information that could help us, now is the time to speak up.”
     
    • Love Love x 1
  7. Oracle

    Oracle Super Asian Member

    Joined:
    Aug 22, 2019
    Messages:
    34
    Likes Received:
    78
    Local Time:
    2:15 AM
    One hand touched her wrist and then her shoulder. Shea swallowed thickly at the feeling; not unpleasant, but surprising. Even here in the middle of what was very definitely a catastrophic emergency Cy was not only calm, but cool. In this instance, physically cool. Her hands were several degrees lower than what Shea would expect them to be. And in all honesty incredibly comforting. Shea somewhat liked how Cy's large hand felt on her much smaller shoulder. It countered the burning panic that was on the very edge of consuming her and she nodded, forced herself to breathe, to think more rationally.


    There was something incredibly calming about the agent's voice. She took another deep breath and watched as the other woman dug into her own luggage and tied off the shirt around her head. The scales on her cheeks and forehead--they looked dry already, the desert heat working rapidly. "Not fully alone," she agreed, "but maybe mutually lost." She knelt down with her own bag and dug out a small container of lotion. It wasn't much, and she had no idea if it would even agree with her companion's skin and scales, but it was something.

    Before she could bring it up Cy had turned away to address the others. Again, her voice struck Shea as distinct, though she couldn't place precisely why. She watched as people calmed and eyes turned to face them both, and the inkling of an idea began to work its way into Shea's mind.

    One of the flight attendants, the slender serpentine man, shook his head, clutching a bloody towel to the side of his scalp. "I think the pilot fell assssleep... he sssssaid sssssomething about weather right before we went down."

    "Fell asleep!?" a rather rotund human woman with a bleach-blonde bobcut shrieked. "What kind of service is this?? I was told RocLite is reliable, comfortable, and quick!" She began to look for someone to complain to, and the majority of beings around her stepped widely away.

    Others began to speak up, claiming they had seen the sandstorm that brought them down, others that the sky had been clear, and as the disagreements began to spread into outright argument a single pale green figure stepped forward. She was tall and broadly built, wearing a faded 'BLUE OYSTER CULT' tee with a ring of merfolk surrounding a gigantic blue oyster rendered in cracked imprint. Her hair was a deep red-brown and tied back into a bun at the rear of her head, and her jaw was thrust forward to allow more room for two large tusklike teeth that curled up a few inches along either cheek. She held out a map to Cy, very nearly able to make level eye contact. "I did some rudimentary mapping based on how long we were airborn and our apparent heading," she explained, not bothering to glance at Shea as the much shorter woman glowered up at her.
     
    • Love Love x 1
  8. Atlas

    Atlas That's just, like, your opinion, man. Member

    Joined:
    Aug 31, 2019
    Messages:
    18
    Likes Received:
    10
    Local Time:
    2:15 AM
    As to be expected, few people had much information about where they were or what had happened just prior to their roc plummeting through the sky and into the sand. A few bits and pieces shoved together, none of them enough to create a coherent picture. Cy frowned, tapping a long, delicate finger against her chin as she thought, only jolted back into the present as another approached, holding out a scrap of paper.

    “Oh, interesting,” she replied, eyes quickly glancing over the woman’s Blue Oyster Cult shirt--a favorite among her mother’s family--and took the offered map. Cy took a moment to analyze the scribblings and make sense of them.

    “Assuming all this is correct, we’ve landed somewhere… in the northeastern Sahara?” She groaned, dropping her hand to her side and glancing at the vast swaths of orange sand that seemed to stretch for miles in every direction. “Well, that is certainly not ideal. Though it would explain this heat.” Her skin was already beginning to feel tight. Her kind was not made for this.

    She turned away from the group, looking to Shea. “Of all the things I could have predicted to impede our journey, this wasn’t one of them. Although I’m guessing it should have been. Never again.” She paused, glancing over at the sad roc’s corpse as wind whipped up sand and loose feathers. A part of her ached for the poor beast’s lost life, but another felt oddly vindicated. Airtravel was a nightmare. Nothing but trains and cruises from here on out.

    “Perhaps this is a silly question, but does anyone have any methods of communicating with anyone outside of here?” she asked, her voice taking on that mysterious sing-song quality once again. “Electronically or magically?” Despite her time with MCAB and general knowledge of skills attributed to a variety of species, one could never be entirely sure how such skills manifested in each individual. In water, sirens had the ability of communicating with one another over long distances. Their voices didn’t carry quite the same way over shifting sands.

    “It’s possible the roc was being tracked as well. Its lack of vital signs might have alerted air traffic control,” she muttered to herself. As her eyes settled on Shea once more, a gentle grin crossed her face. “Is that… is that for me?” she asked, pointing to the lotion in Shea’s hand.
     
    • Love Love x 1
  9. Oracle

    Oracle Super Asian Member

    Joined:
    Aug 22, 2019
    Messages:
    34
    Likes Received:
    78
    Local Time:
    2:15 AM
    "Someone was monitoring the bird, at the very least. RocLite's always been central to extreme controversy over their use of the rocs--they're considered an at-risk species, thanks to poaching and, well." The orc woman paused and glanced over at the corpse. "They aren't exactly smart for their size. Sort of like pigeons the size of office buildings."

    The others fell silent at the sound of Cy's voice once again, even the squawking human woman, and a chorus of negative responses floated back her way. In a place this remote cellphones had no coverage. A skinny human male raised one hand uncertainly. "If there were still water I could probably scry my cousin, but... I don't know if that would even help. He's in data management, but we studied for the NEWT exam together when we were teenagers, so we learned some magical stuff. Mostly for looking at people."

    "Oh, my god," another human sighed. "Nobody cares about how you learned to try and spy on people, dude."

    "That wasn't why!" the skinny man protested loudly, and everyone began to mutter that it was probably exactly why.

    Shea blinked when addressed directly, and glanced down at the bottle, then lifted it up. "Yeah. Your, um. Those scales on your cheeks are looking really dry already. I don't know if this lotion will even help, honestly, it's not formulated for scales or anything. It's actually for fairly delicate skin, since I'm so pale, and I guess paleness is an indication of delicacy. Speaking of I probably need to cover everything up as much as I can. I didn't pack any sunblock. Why would I? Because I didn't plan ahead, is why not, at least."

    It settled in that she was babbling and she cut herself off. The panic had subsided, but the residual anxiety was having a hard time being shaken properly off. She held out the lotion and once it was taken she turned to fish another pair of shirts out of her suitcase and proceeded to tie one by the sleeves across her torso and under one arm, leaving the rest of the garment to drape down her arm and shoulder and back. She did the same with the other, forming a sort of makeshift pastel poncho under her hood. "My arms are already red," she whispered in soft horror. "I so pale."

    "I think I saw a river before we began to go down," the orc woman said, once there was a lapse in the general conversation. "In a desert, water means life. We should head due west, straight from here, until we hit the river. Then we can follow it to a settlement, likely upstream." She glanced at the halfling as she whispered about her own skin, then back to the more competent of the two. "We could also risk sitting put. Someone'll come sooner or later to figure out what happened to the roc and the flight, but I wouldn't be optimistic about the response time."
     
    • Love Love x 1
  10. Atlas

    Atlas That's just, like, your opinion, man. Member

    Joined:
    Aug 31, 2019
    Messages:
    18
    Likes Received:
    10
    Local Time:
    2:15 AM
    Cyanea accepted the offered lotion with a tiny smile. It wasn’t formulated for scales, sure, but anything that would help keep some moisture in her face was welcome. She couldn’t help but chuckle quietly to herself as Shea wallowed in the existential horror of her pale skin, though if asked for her own opinion Cy would have offered nothing but compliments for Shea’s delicate complexion. She found it quite beautiful, far more appealing than her own sickly-looking skin with its dry patches of sea green.

    Lotion applied, Cyanea’s attention was occupied once again by the informative orc woman. The possibility of a river was good news. Rivers led to oceans. Perhaps, if she were lucky, she may be able to communicate with something if they were able to reach the running water.

    “I don’t believe sitting and waiting here is an option,” Cyanea replied, shaking her head. She looked over the gathered group once more. No one, from what she could gather, aside from perhaps the naga, would be remotely used to this kind of weather. Even if their species offered them some kind of affinity for the heat, no one had been prepared to endure such extreme conditions. It was either make an effort and maybe die trying, or make none and absolutely succumb to the elements.

    “Everyone! I believe it is in our best interests to move forward!” Cyanea called, voice rising high above any whispers and mutterings that may have arisen. “Leave anything that isn’t absolutely essential,” she instructed, glad that she had packed nothing more than a well-stuffed backpack for the trip. “If we’re lucky, we can hopefully send a recovery team later on, or RocLite will, but material possessions are not as important as your own life, so do not be stubborn. Be smart.”

    Assigning tasks was relatively smooth after that. Cyanea designated a trio to comb through the wreckage and see if they could recover any water or snacks that managed to withstand the crash. Another to help those who needed mobility assistance, though it was discovered quickly that not everyone was in a state to even make the trek. Some would need to be left behind with little more than some water, a few packets of snacks, and hope.

    “How are you handling all this?” Cyanea asked Shea, having nudged her aside as the group finished up their preparations. “Never in a thousand years would I have predicted something like this. And that poor roc…” she muttered, shaking her head.

    She turned back toward Shea, taking the other woman’s hands in her own. “Don’t worry, we’re going to get to that tree no matter what,” she said firmly.
     
    • Love Love x 1
  11. Oracle

    Oracle Super Asian Member

    Joined:
    Aug 22, 2019
    Messages:
    34
    Likes Received:
    78
    Local Time:
    2:15 AM
    They responded quickly to Cyanea's leadership, moving to get their belongings and try to organize. There was a fair share of muttering and murmuring, but the severity of the situation was enough for most of them to batten down and get to work. One of the naga attendants came around with a satchel full of salvaged water and snacks, and handed Shea a bottle of 'mana potion' Gatorade. She scowled after him, still bent over her suitcase, as he slithered away. "Hey! This isn't hydrating! The sugar completely counteracts the water content!"


    The orc woman glanced up from her own incredibly large pack. "Actually, that's a common misconception. Any beverage is hydrating to some extent--except for alcohol. But either way, aren't you fae types fond of sugar? You have no reason to complain."

    Shae bristled, and was halfway through concocting a scathing retort when Cy pulled her aside. She glared at the orc woman for a moment longer--was she smirking--before she forced herself to pay attention to the much taller, much prettier agent. "How am I--oh. Well. Who COULD predict this? Right? I don't know any seers or, or, or soothsayers, or prophets, but y'know, I'm sure that if I had called any and asked them 'what's going to happen in the next three days' none of them would have told me my mom would die, or that I'd be going back to my dad's home, or that the roc would just--just die--or that I'd be doing any of it with--wi--w--"

    She trailed off when Cy took her hands, her eyes going large and round as she gazed up at the agent. It was incredibly strange to experience--something about the taller woman set her entirely at ease. She had experienced it before, at least twice now, but it was no less mesmerizing for all that. She squeezed her hands tightly back, registered her lips moving, mouthed something back without actually speaking. It took a moment for it to fully sink in, but Shea nodded quickly when it did. "The tree. Right. Of course we will. One way or another." Shea closed her mouth, opened it, closed it again. "Just. Stay close to me. I wanna make sure this heat doesn't... doesn't mess you up too badly." She indicated the travel-size Gatorade. "I have hydration if you need it. Though. I don't think smearing this on your face would work out too well."

    Of the eighty-eight passengers that had fit in the capsule, seventy-nine were still alive. Of those seventy-nine, sixty-two were fit to travel. Of those sixty-two, maybe five were suited to travel through the desert. To Shea's incredible annoyance, the knowledgeable orc woman proved to be one of them. Her dark green skin seemed unaffected by the heat or sun, and she marched upright with her enormous backpack slung over her shoulders. Her only concession to the environment was a veil across her nose and mouth to keep the sand out and her breath in. She had introduced herself to Cyanea as Trini, short for Tr'nishosh'algotholga'i.

    Shea didn't like Trini.

    She wished she had brought her umbrella as she glanced back and saw a few of the stragglers clustered under one. But then, who would have ever guessed at the need for it? Especially in this context? She sipped at her Gatorade intermittently, angry at both the fact that the sugar did taste especially sweet to her tongue and the fact that it actually kept her hydrated. As much as one could maintain hydration in the desert.

    The walk would remain as one of the most difficult things Shea had ever done. She abandoned her glamour only a few hours in, shedding what minor magic she indulged in to conserve as much energy as possible. The Gatorade was gone far sooner than she would have expected, and so was the bottle of hot water after that. She kept herself close to Cyanea, eyeing the scales on her face frequently. If it wasn't so important to keep every drop of water she could, she'd have engaged the agent in conversation to help pass the time, or at least to distract her from what had to be an utterly miserable hike.

    She had no idea how long it had been by the time the ground firmed up underfoot from the softer, rolling sand. Another thirty minutes--at least it felt that way to Shea--passed before they topped a small rise and found themselves on the bank of an enormous river. Shea felt herself gasp when she saw it. The opposite bank had to be at least half a mile away, if not more. She heard Trini calling for the others to hurry up, but Shea ignored the orc and put an arm around Cy's waist, hurrying her forward. "Come here," she said as she hurried the agent to the water. It looked clear and clean to her--she wasn't about to drink it, obviously, but it was enough.

    She'd brought two bags along from her suitcase; her travel purse, packed full of makeup (one does not simply spend Fenty money and then leave it in the desert, thank you) and another satchel she'd salvaged from the crash (nobody had claimed it, and the only things in it had been a few pairs of pants and shirts (she tried not to think of why it was unclaimed)). She reached into the satchel and dug out a spare shirt, which she immediately soaked in the river water and passed up to Cy. "Put this over your face and your head," she ordered, pushing it into the agent's hands. The scales weren't looking very healthy at this point, at least not to Shea. She pulled off her own headwrap and dunked it, then put it back in place, shivering as droplets of cool water soaked into her shirt and ran down her back.

    On either side people were rushing to the water, some of them leaping in fully clothed, others bending down at the edge to suck down mouthfuls of the clear fluid. Shea soaked her two other 'poncho' shirts before devoting her full attention to Cy. "Are you feeling any better? Maybe you should jump in, too. It couldn't do any harm."

    Trini approached, looking grim, her green skin coated in water and her makeshift mask soaked wet. "Bad news--it looks like we lost a lot of people on that walk. I can only count thirty, maybe forty heads in this group. We--"

    "Would you give us ten minutes to just. Breathe, please?" Shea interrupted, glaring at the orc. The green woman looked briefly surprised--either at Shea's much more alien look, or at her tone--but shrugged and pointed.

    "There's a village across the river, I'm pretty sure. I'm going to try and establish contact. Take your time recovering--with the river we should be way better off in terms of survival." She turned to march away along the riverside, toward what did indeed look like a village. If Shea wasn't mistaken, a boat was already paddling toward the knot of exhausted survivors.

    The halfling shook her head and put her focus back on Cy. Shea looked fairly different than she had before--without any trace of glamour it was fairly obvious she had fae lineage. Her ears were more sharply pointed, and her eyes were deeply angled on her face. Her cheekbones were high and delicate, and her hair was more of a shimmering platinum-white than the blonde she maintained. The color of her eyes--a deep, rich violet--was almost the only thing that stayed entirely the same, aside from her slightly sunburnt paper-pale skin. "Yeah. You definitely need a dunk. Or a soak. Come on, back to the water with you."
     

Share This Page

  1. This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
    By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.
    Dismiss Notice