Lady Takanuva
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Posts posted by Lady Takanuva
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IC: Karoru, Ga-Wahi, outside the Great Takea.
The two spent a while working to locate Zyla's companion. Searching, combing… however, eventually it was decided the two would part ways. Giving the dashi's shoulder an encouraging squeeze before departing, Karoru set off back toward the harbor, looking to see if any more ships had arrived.
To her surprise, one had. But it was a very different make to Kentoku craft.
Its cutting prow was emblazoned with the tendrils of some deep-sea leviathan, its sides lined with… metal gunwales? There was no conceivable way this ship had hailed from the Archipelago. More than likely, this was a Mata Nuian craft.
Striding forward, Karoru approached a small knot of figures at the docks near the ship.
One of the group, a fast-talking green-and-black armored figure with a willowy frame and enough weaponry to level a small island, caught her eye. The woman was carrying more metal than one of the royalty. How different things truly were here.
Clearing her throat slightly, the freelance warrior stepped up to the walking arsenal.
"Um… excuse me, marm. Is this ship… yours? Y-your group's, I mean. Well, I suppose it could be yours, come to that. I… erm…"
Letting out a sigh, Karoru's formal accent dropped for something far less "refined." She disliked the stuffiness of Kentoku formality more and more these days, and the Mata Nuians seemed far less inclined to mind her normal speech anyhow.
"...sorry. Let me introduce myself. My name is Karoru, of…"
memories flooding back, hands threatening to start shaking.
"...my own employ. Tell me… could you use another blade? I mean…" she corrected, looking at the medium-sized arsenal festooning the figure. If she fell off the ship she'd sink right to the bottom, and need to walk her way home.
"...that is, another warrior, for your crew?"
Karoru didn't know why she asked the question. Something in the way the Daijuno treated her like she was some sort of elitist snob…
She avoided looking at her ornate crystal armor, maintained to the point of sparkling despite bearing more battering than any royal house would allow.
…how she had ground down the area on each shoulder where the clan's crest had been snapped off of the crystal until the marring was barely noticeable. She had been left with the armor, ostensibly, to "prove we are not as murderous as you," but it was clear by this point the intent had been to make her feel like a pariah.
It had begun to work. But… maybe Karoru could change that. Maybe, like many Menti her age, she might find better prospects at sea. The idea of being on a ship brought back recent anxieties. But this was a far larger battleship rather than an overcrowded refugee vessel.
All this shot through Karoru's mind as she spoke, and by the time the words had finished leaving her mouth she had resolved to join up with this crew no matter what they asked of her.
OOC: @Snelly
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IC: Raika, Abandoned Oki village
The wraith stalked, silently, through the hurriedly abandoned streets. Doors hung open, wards and talismans hanging from eaves or door frames twisted in the breeze.
Something soft brushed against Raika's foot. Recoiling, they looked to see it was a half-soaked doll made of linen cloth and stuffed with soft plant fibers. They gazed at it for a moment, before lifting the trinket and gently setting it on the porch of the closest house, where it would be visible to a visitor but protected from the worst of the elements.
Abandoned. The word was the only sound besides wind and the faint lapping of waves echoing across the settlement. Half-disembowelled lives, possessions spilling and strewn like innards from a slaughtered animal, and in some ways just as painful to behold.
Raika instinctively clutched at the carving hidden in their scarf as they proceeded through the settlement. They found a few odds and ends, pocketing what they could at first and then, taking a discarded satchel and carefully emptying the contents once more at the entrypoint of the nearest home, began filling it with what they deemed useful.
A small bolt of linen for use under a ceremonial outfit, which might make useful bandages. Strips of cured, dried fish that inexplicably had remained safe from scavenging rahi. Flint, a small bundle of tinder strips wrapped in oilcloth. A small pot of meat preserved in salt. A petit, purple jadestone pendant carved into the symbol of Zuto Nui, found half-submerged in a puddle and polished clean on their cloak.
The smoke was traced, cautiously, back to the remnants of what had once been a smokehouse. There was no salvageable food in the ashes, but one or two small jadestone skinning knives Raika added to their pack.
By the time they reached the near-looted armory Raika had settled into a sort of numb trance. Numbed as much as possible to the quiet, peaceful carnage of abandoned lives and livelihoods. It reminded her too much of combing through the ashes of her home, scrabbling for anything to salvage. The miserable realization that the discarded kanohi once belonging to her best friend would be too heavy to carry…
Inside were several cracked or half-useful swords. Raika looted through until she managed to find, hidden behind what appeared to be an official's table, a smoke-darkened crystal blade that was not too much longer than her own daggers.
Strapping the wakizashi's sheath to a loop on her pack, Raika searched aimlessly until they came back upon the other two party members. The whole event took somewhere around thirty or forty minutes, but when they drew close they felt as though a lifetime had passed.
For a moment, they considered sitting, just listening to the two, to see if they were perhaps planning to betray them. But something inside of them rebelled at this notion. Something small, like a crawling plant sprouting from a crack in a flagstone. Raika had to resist the urge to stamp this alien new growth back into the pavement of their mind.
.:Not much there,:. they reported, shifting the satchel to show to the others as they faded into perception. .:Ahri, the blade is yours, if you want it.:. Nearly everything was in the satchel, save for the small trinket now hanging around their neck. They would carry a fragment of this place with them, because they knew now that a part of them would stay here. Sorting through the detritus, and wondering what the village had been like before its violent uprooting.
.:I did not see anybody, either. No bodies. Looks like a clean evacuation.:.
Not clean. But would the others understand the quiet tragedy of the precious trinkets thrown to the sides of the road, or spilling from shelves or doorways?
The idea that the answer might be "no" terrified them so much they kept it to themself. In the confines of their memories Raika held a silent vigil, in their own privative way.
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IC: Raika, Oki shoreline
Raika nodded, then focused their mind.
They held an image of themself there, clear as can be through the bias of one's own eyes. Slowly, they blurred that image, bending focus away from it. The concept of the figure growing hazy, they triggered their kanohi and completely faded from perception.
To the Wraith's travelling companions, were they to look back, it might seem that there was never was never a third member to their party.
.:Affirmative.:. clipped Raika, a little more confident now that their shaking body was hidden by their cloak. .:Ahri, if you can work a loop of something around the blade's trigger, it will remain heated. And please try not to twist or shear it, that could expose the heatstone core and definitely cause a fire.:.
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TW: Mentions of trauma response
IC: Raika, Oki shoreline
The Menti drew their remaining dagger and tried to control the manic pounding of their heartlight. Suddenly the scent of burning in the air felt choking and oppressive. Raika's hands shook visibly.
They shook their head slightly, willing their eyes to focus as adrenaline poured into their system.
It's not real, the Menti told themself. It's not on fire it's just a campsite like we were just at. .:It's not real, they aren't dead, it's going t-:.
Raika froze, falling behind a few steps as they realized that in their panic, they had momentarily slipped into ideatalk.
They kicked themself mentally. Still off-guard after that serpent's attack. Babbling like a child. Fools get friends killed, Raika.-
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IC: Raika, Oki Refugee Camp
When Raika saw what Yuna was using, they immediately felt a knot rise in their throat. As the sash was tied tight, Raika felt at their neck to the scarf, their only vanity.
Oh, VERY nice. And now she's used that because you were too scared to show a few scars. Because you didn't want them to ask where they came from.
Raika accepted the lance carefully, cheeks flushed with shame and odd gratitude. .:I… y-you…:. They stared at the binding intently, not meeting Yuna's gaze.
.:Th…thank you. I'm sorr- I… thank you. I'll make sure you get your sash back in one piece.:.
Their hands shook slightly as guilty conscience continued tearing at their insides.
She probably did it for Ahri. Just being polite offering for you to use it. Why would someone want to help you anyway?All you've done is panic and hold the others back.
More gingerly this time, Raika weighed the spear in their hand, finding the new center of balance Once they had, they held out the weapon between themself and Ahri.
.:H-here you are, then. You'll probably get some good leverage with this.:.
Their dagger and their staff. That was a steep blow, but… Ahri would be safe. Raika wondered what it would be like to have a friend who would sacrifice something like Yuna just had.
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IC: Raika, Oki Refugee Camp
Raika looked at the two weapons, then to Yuna. They bit back the acidic remark that rose in their throat at the suggestion that Raika could not look after themself.
The wraith stowed their daggers, folded the staff under their arm, began to unwind the linen strips from their wrist absentmindedly for a few seconds, then went rigid. They tasted bile from sheer anxiety and shot Yuna another hurried glance. Handing the staff over, they then reluctantly drew the dagger and held it out, handle first.
.: Going to need some better wrappings than thes. Besides, my hands would get caught in the ends of the sleeve.:.
It was a feeble lie, Raika knew. But they also figured Yuna was not in a position to start questioning alibis at the moment.
A shameful feeling squirmed through Raika's gut as they thought this. They nearly shook their head. No. Not suspicion. They needed to trust her.
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IC: Raika, Oki refugee camp.
The slight warrior looked at Ahri's improvised stave with admiration, shifting their shoulders and self-consciously feeling for the halves of their own bo staff to clunk against their back.
A small battle raged in their mind for a few moments, before the Wraith deftly drew one of their daggers.
They paused, glancing at the ill-maintained yet still razor-sharp protocrystal dagger. Half the heatstone core sat snug in the blade's warm grip, the other half warming the spine of the knife. When squeezed, the trigger brought the two shards of stone together, superheating the weapon in a matter of seconds. Effective if you wanted to cut through armor.
Or to fake the wound of a Soulsword.
Nausea roiled in Raika's throat as they looked at the Wraith's dagger. It wouldn't do to offer anyway. It was too short to be a proper sword.
A coward's weapon.
Unslinging the halves of her bo, Raika deftly screwed them together and, more deftly that the daggers, gave the staff a quick, affectionate twirl, and held it out towards Ahri.
It was a decent thing. In fact, decent was hardly the word. It was beautiful sea-blue crystal, etched with flowing waves on one side and partially set with turquoise hills the other, though some of the set stones seemed to have fallen out or cracked with use. Save one area, that seemed to have had its stones gouged deliberately out. It looked like it had once been quite an expensive tool, but now bore the hallmarks of use and longevity.
.:Just until we find you a sword, okay? That bamboo trick was cool, but we meet one of those… demons… you'll want good Kentoku crystal in your hands, trust me.:.
Scarlet colored their cheeks as they weighed the weapon in their hand. Were they… really going to just loan this to a person they just met? It was… one of the few bits of home they still had….
Looking pointedly away, they added .:If you don't give it back when you do find one I'll knock your mask off with it once I take it back:.
OOC:
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IC: Raika, Oki Refugee Camp
Something akin to a mixture of admiration and burning jealousy settled in Raika's gut as they watched Ahri expertly wield his mindarm abilities. That's what a Menti looks like they told themself, a sour taste rising in their throat. That's what this village needs. Not a sneak thief.
Searching for anywhere else to look but at Ahri, cheeks crimson beneath their mask with shame, they noticed Yuna's discomfort. A combination of genuine concern and selfish desire to change the subject before Ahri asked them to demonstrate their own abilities led them to respond immediately to Yuna.
The wiry Dasaka nodded their head. .:Yes, that sounds like a good idea. Those boats will probably be essential soon. It's been… a long time, but I have helped repair a boat or two before.:.
Once. When they were small. They'd gotten hot tar on their hands and needed to soak them in the water until the burning subsided…
The crafts' owner had said that the blobbily caulked boards were a good job, but a week later Raika noticed the boards were sanded and recaulked with rope and fresh pine resin. It was then they realised that the Saihoko had been humoring her clan's firstborn, and not actually grateful for their help.
Raika shook their head, trying to dispel the image of the smiling face and the reset boards. They may not be any good, but they were a nobody now. Maybe someone could help them learn, properly this time. Maybe they could actually help someone.
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IC: Raika, Oki Refugee Camp
Raika almost jumped as Ahri's hand rested on their shoulder, but forced themself to calm down. It… it was reassuring, in an odd way.
Well, they thought, looking back to Yuna, that certainly WAS a nifty power.Even just as a distraction.
But… Raika knew how to downplay an ability. And Yuna was starting to become uncomfortable it seemed.
A small seed of worry was forming in Raika's mind. The tired wanderer was excited to have a friend with new abilities they could ask about.
But the Wraith, the parts of her who traced their paranoid birth to years of political espionage, brought a worrying possibility to the table:
If Yuna was hiding a secret… how dangerous would it be when it came out? They could hide very effectively, but perhaps there was some part of this water technique that could be used to reveal their footsteps, or to ward their entrance? If her mind was strong enough to hurl a bolt of water and stun a serpent, what would happen if that power was focused on someone's throat?
Their heartlight beat a panicked tattoo beneath their scarf, and they fought the instinct to grab onto their blades.
Aaaaaaaaah…. They wanted to trust Yuna, they wanted to trust Ahri, but… secrets, secrets everywhere. Raika felt as though they were sitting upon a powder keg. And, if pasts did eventually come out… theirs might just be enough to set the lot ablaze.
Looking down at their feet, they said .:I understand. A lot happened in the moment. Not to draw attention away, but what do we do now? Yuna, surely you must know a few of the people around here. Is there someone we could go to to find out what we can do to help?:.
Privately, to Ahri, they added .:You are welcome to weigh in. After all, the two of us are acting with full memories. I fully understand if you wish to move on, and I p…. I p-promise I'll accompany you if you choose to leave.:.
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IC: Raika, Oki Refugee Camp
As soon as Yuna mentioned having faced one of the serpents, a subtle but clear difference came over Raika. A little bit of focus returned to their eyes as they turned to the fisherwoman.
.:You… you faced one? You fought it off? Are…:. They trailed off, then added in a softer tone inside of her head, .:are you okay? I just… they're terrifying. I know what it's like to face one. If… if you need to talk… or h...h-help…:.
Raika's cheeks were flushed with panicked emotion. It was the most open they had been with anyone in recent memory. And… they felt the idea of rising panic at being alone again. No. They'd done the solitary thing, and… already, they could feel that this felt more… right? Besides, Yuna had saved them, and found a way to fight another with… water? Maybe it was a Mindarm trick, though the ability to conjure more than a splash would take considerable skill. Yuna certainly seemed to have a feel for the water.
They fought back a tiny pang of jealousy. Their cloaking ability was more a gimmick than being able to manipulate a physical object. But they mentally shook themself. No. They needed to be there. For their friend.
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IC: Raika, Oki refugee camp
Raika shook themselves from their poisonous musings.
.:'m not sure. I've been a little isolated of late.:.
The wanderer yawned, disconcertingly carrying on their running mental dialogue even as they did so.
.:Here is… what I can remember, though. I've faced two of these creatures. They looked like… well, like serpents that had grown legs, with these blades crests along their spines. One was a sickly pale green, and its blood stank like sweet poison when it did bleed. The other…..:.
It was a solid thirty seconds before Raika spoke again.
.:It was red. Bright red, like a boiled shellfish. Its spines looked like flames or tendrils. It…:. They gulped. .:...It made me see things. Things that weren't there. Things from my memories. I… saw the thing's face open… :.
Here they paused, even longer. How could they describe the nightmarish sight? That… thing's carapace splitting, the hideous, roiling mass of flesh? The green one had been too dangerously corrosive to peel and study, and… by the time the red one had finished, all Raika could do was run. And run.
It had taken every scrap of will they had not to dive into the ocean when they reached the shore of Oki. Just to swim and swim until arms turned to lead and their lungs filled with seawater and they drifted down, down, perhaps to whatever ****** had spawned these things.
Their hands trembled slightly, and while their visor hid most of their expression, Raika's glowing eyes were twisted in relived fear as they spoke to their companions.
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IC: Raika, Oki Refugee Camp
The wanderer cursed inwardly. They needed to either get their tells under control or stay invisible more often. Shivering like a child, what kind of imposing figure were they now? Even as they considered the answer, they saw the worried expression on Ahri's face superimposed on hisnface the day the Wraith had returned from the kill. Could they really, truly trust that face?
Bad dream, they signed shakily but legibly, still not trusting their ideatalk. That… they made a pair of gestures that roughly translated to 'serpent-thing,' did something to my mind.
They kicked themselves. Imbecile. Now he thinks you're a mewling coward as well as a useless fighter.
Should have seen the other guy they added halfheartedly, too humiliated to meet Ahri or Yuna's gaze.
Yuna. Zuto Nui, that's right. She'd think the two were conspiring or something.
The Dasaka's face was unscruitable beneath their mask's visor as they composed their thoughts.
.:Bad Dream.:. they said, forcing a smile through their visor. .:But i-it's over now...:.
Was it, though? Those memories were all still real. They were still a murderous… well, they deserved this torment, all things said. Probably for the best they reasoned darkly, stewing in the poisons of involuntary insomnia.-
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IC: Raika, Oki refugee camp
. . .
Brush snapped and twigs clawed as the Dasaka tumbled and staggered through the undergrowth. Cut twigs smoldered and the smell of burnt sap followed them as their daggers, clutched in a death grip, heedlessly cleaved through the greenery.
It was all for naught.
They stumbled slightly, then it was all around them. The trees had given way to the smoldering remnants of their home village.
They choked as smoke filled their lungs. Tripping on the arm of a fallen Dashi, they twisted onto their back and scrabbled for their dropped weapon.
It loomed over them. Firelight glinted off of oily red, metallic armor. The smell of fire and ash and charred organic tissue flowed around Raika until the tormented Dasaka felt ready to vomit. Two slitted, smoldering eyes stared back at them.
Raika scrabbled for their blades, but the further they reached, the further their weapons were from grasp.
The thing's face opened, and the Wraith's ears filled with a piercing Dasakan scream…
. . .
Raika bolted upright, their throat clenched tight in terror. with trembling hands, they felt the ground around them. Not grass. Tarpaulin.
The smell of a fire was in their nostrils, but a simple wood fire and not the charnel bonfire of their nightmare.
It hadn't been one the last time. But that time they had managed to fumble upon the still-heated blade.
They had plunged the blade into the thing's open faceplate. And then done so again. And again. And again. And again…
They had not stopped until the façade of their village had dissipated. Until the creature's armor was punched through in multiple places. Until the reek of burned Dasaka was replaced with the acrid, burning tang of the creature's tissue.
Slowly rising to their feet, the still-trembling figure made their way, wordlessly, to Ahri and Yuna. They gestured noncommittaly in lieu of actual speech. They feared that if they opened their mind now, all that Ahri would hear was screaming.
(OOC: @Keeper of Kraata @The UltimoScorp, )
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IC: Lainai. Sometimes, dinner bites back.
The Mystix opened their jaws and let out a hollow noise like a ghostly woodwind instrument. The howl sounded something like the song of a whale in the pitch of a gukko's call.
Lainai pulled their wing membranes close shut to protect them from harm, sealing them in an added layer of ice. Then, as the Muaka charged, they lept to meet it.
Talons locked with claws as the two apex predators fought for survival: the Muaka for escape, Launai for desperately-needed nutrition.
There was no malice in the dragon's attack. This was no show of force, or a trophy kill. This was a matter of food, and survival. The luxury of allowing such a worthy opponent to survive would have to wait for a less desperate occasion.
The dragon's needlelike teeth, searing cold, bristled as the wyrm bit again and again at the leathery neck folds of the feline rahi's neck. If they could find purchase past the cat's thick fur and strategic armor plates, the battle would be over quickly, and they could spare the beast any more suffering.
Even as their struggle continued, Lainai was consciously exhaling frost at every available junction. But their breath was already warming, and the Mystix felt a feverish heat growing in their muscles. They were starving, and their strength would not hold out forever.
With one more cetacean howl, the dragon kicked up and dragged with her hindlegs raking the talons along the cat's exposed underbelly as they bit deep into the Muaka's windpipe.
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IC: Lainai, dinnertime!
The frost Mystix was starting to feel weariness leach into her bones. She was hungry, gnawingly so, and still no sign of any food on this blasted landscape.
Until she heard the roar. Something that resonated in their bones, and set the teeth on edge.
They smiled and, shaking hoar frost from their wings, launched herself from the mountainside towards the sound of a fresh meal.
* * *
The group of Matoran received an unexpected surprise as a lanky, spiky figure of ice and metal scraped to a halt to the left of the Muaka from them. Lainai regarded the group momentarily, but determined they seemed to have no interest or claim to the felid before them.
To Kregero, Savrehn and Atamai, it would feel as if the last gasp of heat had leached from the air around them.
Lainai's violet eyes glared hungrily at the Muaka. Their lip curled up, crackling through the shell of ice. When they spoke, their voice was melodious and hollow, like the howl of blizzard wind over a distant peak.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhh, at last. Thank you for the meal, friend Muaka."
She opened her faintly luminous maw, and breathed out a lethal stream of liquid gasses and freezing air towards the cat, meaning to freeze the beast where it stood.
hello there!
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IC: Lainai
Sheet ice and powdery rime cracked and clattered to the floor as every last gasp of heat drained from the small chamber.
Lainai's rest had been unexpectedly long. The injuries from their...dispute… had taken time to heal.
Their violet-tinged nostrils flared. Fire on the winds. Not just the smog of the fire mountain. Something… else.
Ice-cold liquid coursed through their veins as the Mystix placed a claw on the barrier to their frosty enclave. They allowed some of the heat to return to their ice then, levelling their shoulder, they easily smashed through into the rest of the nest.
Needle-like scales and armored plates alike rustled as they moved. As moisture condenses from the air, their pale-blue and violet form took on a pale white sheen from the rime that crawled across them.
By the time sunlight once more shone off of Alcaraung's form, they had once more achieved a coating of crystalline ice, adding to her imposing majesty.
Cryonic fog wisping from her jaws, Lainai spread their wings and stretched for the first time in countless months. They were hungry, and solitude-weary.
Turning their attention to their surroundings, the frost drake made her way amongst the slopes of Ihu, seeing what the day would bring. Perhaps a fresh Muaka cat, or some similar meal. If they were lucky.
And if not? Well, Lainai would find something else, if need be. She was nothing if not resourceful...
OOC: To any in Ihu who wish to befrend a dragon, Lainai the Rimed is open for interaction!
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IC: Karoru
The Dasaka immediately rested a mailed hand on Zyla's shoulder to steady her.
"Easy there, miss. I've got you. We'll get you fed and somewhere to rest a while, I promise."
She looked down, smiling, the wings and frills of her iridescent Kakama glinting pale blue in the sunlight.
"Name's Karoru. A Lady Daijuno sent me lookin' for you. She said you were friends."
After a pause, she said "If that's true, I'll happily bring you to her. But if she's lying, lemme know. I'll get you something to eat and find you a berth. If she asks where I was, I'll say there was no sign of ya. I know getting in with nobby types can be a bit dangerous at times." another pause. "...an' I've been taken for a ride before. I may not always be the quickest, but I'll not let someone else suffer for it."
OOC: @Void Emissary
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IC: Raika, Oki Refugee Camp
Raika was momentarily irritated at Ahri's words. This was quickly followed by a massive wave of gut-twisting shame that they fought to tamp down. Of course they should help out. Normally their prerogative as a lone wanderer was to stay well away from any emergency where they could be cornered or identified.
But they were here now, and visible. The people here had welcomed the group without question. A stark contrast to the cold, proud faces that had slammed the door on a starving figure years ago. These people weren't like that. The class borders were being crushed under the weight of onslaught. Perhaps a few of the more haughty would be humbled by it.
Also, a small, selfish voice spoke in their head, there are probably healers here. Maybe one of them would know about feverleaf.
That cemented things. Raika would help as much as they could, weary and battered as they felt. The warm food in their stomach felt like it had added to their exhaustion somehow. They had to fight to keep their eyes open.
::You're right,:: they said, struggling to ignore the wave of bone-deep weariness that was creeping through them as they unsteadily lifted themselves to their feet. ::We've been fed and taken in. It would be poor courtesy to not try and help where we could...::
They fumbled slightly, and collapsed back into a sitting position. The Dasaka's eyes blazed dangerously from behind the visor of their mask (still off-kilter, as in their exhaustion they had momentarily forgotten to re-adjust it), and their mouth was a hard line. What was visible of their speckled face below the base of their mask was now a deep, ruddy violet from a more extreme blush. Had hauling the fish really taken that much out of them?
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IC: Raika, Oki Refugee Camp
Raika looked ominously at the soup. It looked delicious. It smelled delicious. It would probably be delicious too. But they'd already eaten something today, right?
Raika's stomach growled plaintively, and the petit rogue let out a likewise tiny sigh.
Carefully they adjusted their mask, until just enough of their face was free to drink the broth.
The mouth that was revealed was set in an indigo face, decorated with a spattering of pale violet freckles. Hesitantly, they lifted the bowl to their lips.
It was a simple fish stew. But Raika, while many things, was no cook. This was the best food they had eaten in some time, surprisingly enough.
::It's nice:: they said, to nobody in particular. Then, wincing, they added ::I should have thanked then for making us the food.::
As Raika "talked", their lips never moved save to gulp down warm broth. But there were tiny tightenings and shifts, as though they were making expressions as they did communicate.
As the tiny figure tucked into the stew, a ruddy blush crept across their face from the warmth of the broth. They looked… content. As though the food was having some impact on the recalcitrant Dasaka.
They caught themselves as they were about to yawn, and visibly shook themselves.
It would seem that, as Raika had spent most of their life invisible, they had never learned how to hide their tells as effectively as some others might have.
OOC:
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IC: Karoru
The sellsword soulsword had worked her way through a good deal of the crowd. Her pace had been substantially slowed by those who required her assistance.
As such, she nearly didn't realize the Dashi she had approached might be the fabled Zyla until she processed the Volitak upon their face.
"Marm! I am looking for a Zyla. Might-"
Her voice cut off when she saw the state the bedraggled Dashi was in.
Dropping the well-practiced accent Karoru used when speaking to nobs, she lapsed into the more rustic accent of her youth.
"Hey, Miss. You… are you okay? Do you need help? Can I get you anything?"
Oh, the poor dear. She's all bones and armor. The little thing needs a good meal in her after a trip that long.
OOC: @Void Emissary
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IC: Raika, Oki Refugee Camp
Boyfriend?
The joke sat oddly with Raika. Was that why they cared so much to make sure Ahri stayed safe? Their only previous experience had been childhood infatuation.
But…
Something else was eating at them. Raika realized that as the two walked they kept catching themselves gazing at the woman standing beside them. When they realized this their cheeks burned ruddy violet behind their mask. Their heartlight was flashing slightly erratically beneath their scarf.
Ahh curse it, why had she had to make that joke and stir up these feelings! Raika hadn't slept in over two days, they didn't have the energy to cope with this.
::Not my boyfriend.:: they managed to eke out past the tumult in their mind. ::Just… a friend. And a new one at that.::
Pause, then with a slight edge of anxiety ::I… d-don't… Can… in your village, did….::
Cursing inwardly, they lapsed into silence. What were they doing? Had it really been that long since they had talked to someone that they so readily revealed their secrets like that? This wasn't an internal monologue, these words had consequences.
Idiot.
::...nevermind. You're right, we can talk once we're back with Ahri.::
Raika strode back over to sit next to the amnesiac Soulsword, trying their hardest not to stare enraptured at the way the sunlight flowed across Yuna's azure armor. They almost missed that Ahri had woken up.
::Hey there,:: they said, concern evident in their voice. ::You okay big guy?::
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IC: Raika
Raika felt an odd twist in their gut. She'd lost her village too. And strong as she was, Yuna was far more a Menti than scrawny Raika.
::I do, in fact. My village was very small, mostly agrarian with a warrior tradition. A newer offshoot of one of the larger clans, never managed to remember which. Only those with promise received Menti training. Or Firstborn.::
Like me. ::I… I lost my clan. Some time ago. There was a raid, and I… w-wasn't able to help.::
You ran, you ran, you RAN! COWARD! MURDERER! YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED THERE! YOU SHOULD HAVE FOUGHT!
There was a pause, then softly Raika said ::Are you okay? After everything. It's… hard doesn't cut it. Do… you need to talk?::
It was like silverwing butterflies were flitting about their stomach. They didn't like conversation at the best of times, but… after she had gone out of her way to help them both, the idea of leaving Yuna to stew on her own seemed unacceptable.
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IC: Raika
::Not me,:: the wiry Menti said as they set down the net of fish, trying to hide the fact that their whole body was shaking with the effort. ::Born talentless. Just a knack for getting in trouble.::
A slightly longer pause. Raika knew they shouldn't say what they were thinking. But something about the dasaka speaking to them had stirred an uncomfortable feeling inside of their stomach, soured as it was by their own poisons. They couldn't piece together what it was, but shame was wrapping around their innards like hot protocrystal. They were tearing themselves down in front of someone who had just met them, and seemed to not actively hate them.
Well, it wasn't their fault if she was too stupid to see that Raika was trouble. But the barbed comment stuck on their metaphorical tongue. They couldn't even form the thought to send across to Yuna.
Coward. It'll make it worse when she sees you for what you are.
::Sounds like you have a few talents though. Probably actually know what you're doing.:: Unlike me. ::Sorry, just… most Menti I've seen are too proud to get their hands dirty doing actual work. I guess… I'm just curious.:: Oh, like you're one to talk, sticklegs. ::Sorry if that's too personal. I don't get to talk to people much.:: Usually I just sell them out to the highest bidder.
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Le oops
BZPRPG - Ga-Wahi
in Bionicle RPG
Posted · Edited by Lady Takanuva
IC: Karoru, Ga-Koro docks
Karoru was caught off-guard at the warrior's…complement? The cracks in her formal front deepened even as her cheeks flushed a ruddy violet, just discernible through the crystal of her Kakama.
"S-skyra Daring." She could not help but smile. "It's a nice name for an adventurer.
People usually addressed Karoru with either worried deference or the disdain an exiled warrior merited in the Archipelago. Being spoken to like an equal was… refreshingly nice.
It was a few moments before Karoru realized she was staring (almost gazing come to that) at the woman before her. She glanced away anxiously. The Menti was unsure of Mata Nui's stance on same-gender attraction, but felt that regardless she should at least try to make a… reasonable first impression.
Besides, she'd never make any friends if she started falling head-over-heels to every Mata Nuian to give her the time of day. Or this one.
She was staring again.
Conjuring a small gobbet of psionic fire in her left palm that she then began to twist and shape like a string of worry beads, Karoru swallowed back the wave of anxiety threatening to render her speechless.
"Yes, you s… th-that sounds lovely!" she overcorrected, crushing the tiny stress ball nearly flat in her palm. "Show me the way. um… please."
OOC: @Snelly @Krayzikk @otter