Riven Wight

Melodramatic Deities and an Ageless Taste for Pizza

Though Odin graciously shifted to allow her access to her side of the booth, Anora’s focus remained on Pahn, his movements gaining the blue man barely half a glance.
But then, a pulse of Pahn’s rage flooded over her as his face morphed supernaturally in anger. Despite the short moment of familiarity that flashed through her at the expression and harrowing, indistinct voices that impossibly left his mouth, a primeval fear overpowered the weaker concept and shadow of betrayal that accompanied it. Flashes of purple mist and golden electricity sparked around her at the emotion as she stumbled back to put space between herself and Pahn, the bursts of energy exploding like miniature fireworks. She shouted in surprise when she tripped over the gorgon’s discarded chair.
Anora fell to the floor, the chair tangled with her legs. She quickly propped herself up with her hands behind her, her fearful expression trained on Pahn. Though his show of fury had disappeared nearly as quickly as it had come, the feelings that had accompanied it remained. He was an ancient predator, and to him, she would be little better then newborn prey. Heart pounding in her chest, she could not help but glance toward the exit, checking the clear shot to an escape route she was suddenly certain she would not make if he actually wanted to stop her.
She did a double take when she saw the confusion Odin had turned to her, before the giant man looked to Pahn. Had Odin somehow not seen Pahn’s display, or was he so accustomed to such a thing that it was little more than a normal occurrence to him?
She did not have time to dwell on the question before her brain registered that Pahn had said she was right.
“Wait, what?” she breathed as he continued, shocked he had actually agreed with her after that.
She squinted at him slightly, taking in his lack of composure and struggle for words. Is that… guilt? she wondered.
When he stood, she got to her own feet as quickly as she could, ignoring the mild soreness in her back from the fall. She straightened her shirt to the gentle clinking of the chains attached to the garment, then set the chair right, glaring at it as she shoved it beneath its proper table, before following the men toward the door. She glanced up at Odin, forgetting exactly how tall he was when standing, then turned her wary gaze to Pahn as they headed to the door, keeping a bit of distance between them and her.
“So… to the Underworld, then?” she asked slowly, a cautious tone in her voice. “And who is it you think’s behind all this, anyway?” She stopped when Pahn paused in the doorway and turned to look at the restaurant. She stepped slightly aside and glanced back, wondering what, exactly, this place meant to him to warrant such a loving look.
Anora remained silent until they were all outside. The summery, mid-day heat felt a bit hotter after being inside the air-conditioned establishment, but not unbearably so, even to her, dressed in black as she was. As they went, she glanced uncertainly between Odin and the few people passing by on the street and sidewalk, worried about what kind of reaction they might have to seeing a gargantuan man with blue skin treading casually down the road.
Wonder how they'd deal with S.W.A.T., she wondered, worried more for the sake of the authorities than Pahn or Odin. They seemed quite capable of handling themselves against a bunch of puny, human-made weaponry. Or the military… Or Area 51.
But, oddly, no one paid him any attention, as if he was invisible to the rest of the world. Which, she had to admit, would not be entirely surprising. After all, Odin and his like had remained little more than the inspiration for Greek and Norse myths for many a year.
Anora's attention went once more to Pahn. She hesitated before reiterating her last question, licking her lips uncertainly, her lower one catching for a moment between her teeth.
“Do you think the man… woman… whatever you mentioned earlier,” she began warily, fearing even an indirect mention of the name he had given earlier might cause another, similar scene as in the eatery. If that was the case, though, it would explain the seemingly random injection of Prephlin into their conversation. “Had something to do with all this?”

To Cure a Curse

Rayadell’s attention snapped to the elk as he approached, her grip on the staff shifting as she straightened and took an instinctive step away from the great, antlered beast.
When Calanon answered, her head turned back to him before her eyes followed. Her chin rose slightly as he got to his feet, before she offered him a small, quick nod. She took another step back when he knelt, then jumped onto a tree branch hanging above them. She cocked an eyebrow, wondering for only a moment whether he was showing off, or simply had had the urge to jump.
“I’ve left a bit of wood behind.” She nodded toward the direction she had hunted for firewood as Brogach trotted to the other side of the fire. “I’ll return shortly.”
She turned and headed back into the forest, pausing to cast Calanon a last, quick glance before weaving between the trees.
Not wanting to risk remaining in Calanon’s line of sight in case she had not alerted him to her race, Rayadell went a bit deeper into the woods than she thought necessary, leaving her pile of wood well behind her. Once in the privacy of the shedding trees, some pines mixed in and adding shades of moon-drenched green, she cast a wary glance around her, leaned her staff on a tree, then unhooked her cloak. Though sure the tree spirit had followed her, she removed the garment.
She suppressed a relieved groan as she stretched her wings out behind her, the appendages thankful for the chance to stretch and scaly tail curling and straightening in contentment. She quickly unhooked her narrow pack, then reluctantly wrapped her wings around herself so they would create less of a bulge at her back, yet still remain hidden beneath the cloak.
She sighed sadly as she readjusted the cloak around her shoulders, missing the days when such precautions were unnecessary. But those days were long dead, buried beside the people she once loved.
She shook her head with a snort, then went to retrieve the wood, her steps quickened by frustration at herself for letting the thought seep into her mind. With her pack draped over her elbow, staff tucked under an arm, and the wood in her arms, she returned to their campsite.
As she passed, she cast another quick glance to the trees, looking for Calanon, dumped her armful of wood in the pile she had already brought, and knelt on the ground beside the fire. Laying her staff beside her, she dropped her pack on the ground to use as a pillow and laid down on her side, carefully keeping the cloak drawn around her like a blanket.
Rayadell closed her eyes, and listened, her sensitive hearing picking up on even the gentlest of rustles. Though the chilly woods may have looked nigh deserted to the untrained eye, the night was very much active. The braver crickets that dared venture into these colder parts chirped softly, their songs odes to summery nights. Night birds rustled through the trees and gave their haunting calls, while a few owls hooted nearby, posing their repetitive questions to each other in a loop. A wolf howled in the distance, another answering its call.
Ever so slowly, she dared let herself drift into a light sleep, any noise louder than the usual music of the night stirring her back into awareness.

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Heh. Let me know when you update it? Otherwise I might miss that it’s been edited.

Well, still fluffy, anyway. ^.^ Will do! Like I’ve said, if you get any ideas or anything, just say something! I’m 100% sure it won’t become a chore. I found a collection of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland on the Kindle for free, so started reading some of Alice in Wonderland (though admittedly found myself skipping paragraphs of dialogue at a time). Did you know that the Tweedles don’t show up until Through the Looking Glass? I didn't. Shows how much I know about classic literature, huh?

Glad you found a place for Sting! Oh, nice about Captain America’s shield. Hmm. Think attaching some kind of string to it using glue (hot glue, or some other glue that might hold, but wouldn’t damage it) and hanging the string on a hook?

Compounds are nice because once you pull the string back, it sort of locks into place and takes some of the weight off so you’re not constantly pulling back the poundage of the bow, where your normal, “bare-bone” ones usually have you constantly pulling that weight back. Lets you get in more shots before tiring out. Thanks for letting me share the information! I hope you get the chance to try archery again, only with a bow suited for your current strength. Archery uses some odd, usually neglected muscles. A lot of people have to start off with low poundage, then work their way up.

Exercising is good for the soul... once your muscles stop feeling like Jell-O. xD Really? Wow, that’s quite the winter! I was just always too lazy. Heh. Decided about sixteen months ago I was tired of it, and started working toward getting in a shape that wasn't a circle.

Oh, and for a warning (in case you do not see my status), things keep coming up, so my posting keeps getting delayed. Figures. xD If it isn’t one thing, it’s another! As Neil Gaimen so wisely wrote, “… events were cowards: they didn’t occur singly, but instead they would run in packs and leap out… all at once.”

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Elayra rolled her eyes at Ghent’s claims of his abilities, none of which he had demonstrated thus far, and laughed at the concept of him adding a sense of “stability.”
Wonderland’s going to eat him alive, she thought with a snort.
She frowned and gave a displeased shake of her head when, despite his earlier claims, he tripped over one of the legs of a table.
“You forgot to add ‘poised’ to your list,” she taunted, her smirk returning.
She gave yet another roll of her eyes at Ghent’s excuse for tripping.
“Pretty sure they’re in the same places,” she said condescendingly as, at last, he joined her, and the two of them headed back out to the street. With the shield above them, only a few stray raindrops splattered against them, most blown by the gentle breeze that occasionally wove its way through the park.
When he answered her question, she nodded in recognition of coffee. “It’s not the easiest thing to find anymore, but we have coffee in Wonderland. It even has a similar description. Don't make it quite right, and it can pack one heck of a punch.”
Elayra returned his stare with an irate, questioning sideways look, her brows twitching upward.
“Why? You want some?”
She snorted. “No, you featherless dodo. Like I said, the portal’s by a place called ‘Hava Java.’ I was merely curious.”
Elayra stopped as they reached where the park’s road met a larger street, the shield hovering above them stopping with her. Her back stiffened, and her hand went to the quiver of arrows, ready to pull one out as she glanced down either side of the new, open road, her fingers gently brushing the blue fletching. A car sped by on the opposite side of the street, sending a spray of water up around it from the stream of rainwater flowing beside the curb.
“Which way?” she asked Ghent, looking to him once the car had passed, the driver hidden behind tinted windows.

Of Science and Magic

Good on the last part there, because things keep coming up to keep me busy. *Sigh.* That's always how it happens, though, I suppose: if it isn't one thing, it's another!

Of Science and Magic

Zane gave a yelp when Bryce nudged into him on his way forward. He snapped slightly at him, then turned to make chase, but stopped to look to Thea with a whine and pawing at the ground.
Thea, with a smile that echoed in her eyes, swirled back around with a twirl of her skirts, and hurried after Byrce. Though she knew she could not keep up with the speed of a wolf, she ran, just as eager to leave the castle behind her as her friend seemed to be. Zane kept a steady pace between them, trying to split his focus between the wolf ahead of him and the girl behind.
Hidden among a rather dense gathering of shrubs, face shrouded in shadow by the hood of a cloak, a pair of eyes watched the trio race toward their “secret” passage. With everything from the figure’s form to the neigh imperceptible beat of its heart masked by a small device in the figure’s gloved hand, the gentle whoosh of a contented sigh went unnoticed. With a smug air, the figure stood from its crouch once the three were out of sight, and turned back toward the castle.
Thea reached the passage last.
Ivy clung to the castle’s outer wall stretching to either side of her. The vines hung in a sheet from about half-way up the massive structure, where the stones took on a smooth texture preventing the plant--and any invading forces--from finding any footing. Near where one side of the wall met the other, Zane waited impatiently for her.
She gave him a quick rub between his ears, got on her knees, and pushed part of the ivy aside. A tunnel not much larger than she was on hands-and-knees waited beyond, the vines untouched for years. She crawled through it as quickly as she could, Zane at her heels. The vines fell back into place behind them, casting the already dim tunnel into near complete darkness.
It did not take long to reach the other side, which was guarded by an illusion to make the entrance look as solid as the rest of the wall.
Thea emerged on the other side where her friend waited. Now covered in dirt and a couple spider webs Byrce’s fur had not cleared away, she stood. Wasting no time in attempting to brush herself off, she looked to where her friend waited as Zane exited the tunnel. She smiled lightly at his posture, a posture he always took when they were out together. A posture of high-alert she had seen Zane take on many occasions. Except, of course, for the grin Byrce wore that only a werewolf could give.
She eyed him suspiciously for a short moment, wondering what laid behind the lupine grin, then glanced toward the east where the river waited.
“Last one to the river’s a skinned lizard!” she shouted over her shoulder as she raced off toward the water.
Zane gave a bark in surprise when she suddenly took off through the dense trees surrounding this part of the castle, and hurried after her.

Deleted

Izzy bumped into the glass as she finished wiping up the spilled juice at Blake’s revelation of his and Zach’s plan. Once Zach put something in Blake’s head, it was all but set in stone. Knowing the inevitable, stubborn consequences of arguing against it, she took a breath, grabbed her glass, and turned to face him.
“The back-burner, huh?” She leaned leisurely on the island and crossed one foot over the other. She regarded him thoughtfully as she took a drink of the orange juice as if genuinely contemplating the brilliance of their suicidal plan, biding herself a couple seconds to think.
“In that case,” she began after a moment, trying to keep her voice and expression sincere, “you two are geniuses! Count me in. I mean, three’s better than two. If this sensei’s as good as they say he is--and landed a job as one--I doubt a ‘drunken fistfight’ would put him in the hospital, and not his attacker. The so-called drunk would have to be one heck of a fighter to best someone like that. Maybe the world’s best.”
She paused to take a thoughtful sip of her juice, not looking directly at Blake. “Wonder what kinds of weapons the guy has,” she mused, hoping the prospect of him being better armed might scare Blake off. “Probably armed to the teeth, if he knows what he's doing. Think he'd have a gun or two? Knives? Throwing stars? Ooh!” Her eyes flicked back to her brother. “Maybe he has some of those fist-knife-things, like a real-life Wolverine.” She made a slicing motion through the air with her empty fist, putting her entire body into the motion. “Could be where--Laurence, right?--got the idea to call him a werewolf. Anyway. With me there, if he beats you and Zach into a bloody pulp, there’ll still be someone around to call 911. Well, unless he jumps me, too.” She shrugged. “I’ll put a note somewhere to put something nice on our gravestones. Maybe something like, ‘The Caldwell Siblings:’” she moved a hand through the air in front of her as if reading from a giant gravestone. “‘Strong of heart, but not of body. Rest in peace.’”
Izzy chugged the rest of her juice, and gave Blake as excited of a grin as she could muster. “So, when were we planning on going?”

Of Science and Magic

@Arista

Same! :-D

Fun fact, in case you didn’t know: there is a difference between a village, town, and city, both historically and even modernly. A village often consisted mainly of houses and farmers, and, if I remember right, didn’t have their own market, making it a farming and living community. A town was larger than a village, and would usually have a market where those from a village could go to sell their wares, but were still small. A city was, well, a city. The largest of the three, they would have the most commodities and largest population, with a good-sized market. Nowadays, I think it’s mostly just size-related. A kingdom, which is a term for the entirety of a land ruled and protected by a kingship, consisted of various of each, with a “royal city” where the rulers resided.

Okay, sorry for the info-dump, especially if you already knew all that. xD Also, I apologize for making you wait. I usually try to get at least a post in a day (or two) depending on how many RPs have replies, and how lengthy of a response they require, but I’ve been a bit busier than usual lately, and then of course the internet went out yesterday... or, uh, the day before yesterday now.

Of Science and Magic

Thea watched Byrce stir, waiting patiently. She drew her legs toward her chest and rested her chin on her knees, smiling as the werewolf yawned. She had always found his race fascinating, being part animal and part human, a mix neither magic nor science--before the latter became banned--had found a reason for. To have the ability to shift between wolf and man was one desire she could not deny having from time to time, to be capable of running through the forests among animals as one of them, instead of the intruders humankind had become.
Zane returned Byrce’s greeting first with his own bark, his front half crouched and his rump in the air, bushy tail wagging slightly.
“Hello to you, too.” She grinned and let out a little squeak when Byrce’s wet, chilly nose tapped her cheek. Her face wrinkled in amusement, she straightened her legs and returned the gesture, rubbing the tip of her nose against his fur before he repeated the greeting with Zane.
Despite the drastic size difference between the two, Zane bravely nipped at at the larger wolf playfully, Thea just thankful Zane had warmed up enough to Byrce to apparently enjoy his company. That was a day she had feared would never happen.
Thea leaned back on her hands as Byrce sat, taking in his body language and understanding his silent question in a way only a true friend could.
“Hmm.” She leaned her head back slightly as Byrce sneezed and shook himself. Her tongue played with her inner cheek in thought for a short moment. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of being cooped up.” She glanced toward the direction of the front gates of the castle, contemplating walking the market. But she was easily recognized in the undoubtedly crowded area, and she had no desire to go through the trouble of concealing her identity so the king would not discover her disobedience. That was one reprimand she would rather avoid. “I’d say going into the city’s out. It’s market day. And Father doesn’t want me leaving the castle right now.” She rolled her eyes. “Thinks those Scientists from the rumors might still be lurking about.”
She paused, and glanced toward their secret escape, well-hidden near the castle walls. There was a river not far from the castle. It flowed about a mile away from the city, and connected Altreiah to the neighboring kingdoms to both the east and the west.
“We haven’t followed the river very far east into the forest yet,” she suggested, her expression perking up at the idea. “Lots to explore, places to get wet before the water freezes for the winter…”
She stood, and took a couple steps toward their exit route, Zane ever by her side. “How’s that sound to you?” She twirled back around to look to Byrce, waiting for his answer.

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Elayra looked Ghent over, making sure he was unscathed as he gawked at the black marks the magic had left. For a short moment, she thought he may have been frozen in place, but then he spoke.
“That,” Elayra answered Ghent’s quiet question as she came to a full stand, her expression unchanging, “was apparently what happens when people neglect a world’s magic for too long. It’s more excitable, even when you don't command it right.”
Her brows rose and her smile faltered when Ghent squinted at her. Had he hurt himself? Lost some of his vision in the aftermath of the spell-gone-wrong? But then he smiled, and she did not take him as someone who would be happy about going partially blind.
She snorted once he finished speaking, but something going right for once had lightened her mood enough for her grin to turn into a condescending smirk instead of a scowl. Not bothering to go around the picnic table, she stepped nimbly onto the seat, and climbed over the table to the other side.
She hopped down to the concrete, now trying to think of the last time anything had warranted a true smile. She shrugged, bushing the rather dismal thought aside. “That you used magic, of course. I mean, at least you’re not completely useless,” her smirk widened, and she looked approvingly at a deep, smoldering indentation in the table she had hid behind. She nodded to it. “I’d call that impressive, considering it was supposed to make a shield.”
Her attention snapped to her bow, her expression turning to a worried frown. “I swear, though,” she stepped to and snatched the weapon up, running a hand down its limbs as she inspected it, “if you’ve damaged this…” Her finger paused on a new black mark in the wood. She brought it closer to her face, scratched at it, then nodded, deeming it nothing more than a superficial mark.
“Consider yourself lucky.” She twirled the bow slightly, and held it beside her. She raised her other hand, palm toward the ceiling, and muttered the focus word as she swept her hand slightly to the side, further aiding in directing the magic. Another shield shimmered into existence above her, only this time it was wide enough for two people to walk comfortably beneath.
“We going, or what?” She jerked her head toward the rain-drenched streets, and headed out into the morning downpour. “By the way,” she looked to Ghent, waiting impatiently, if necessary, for him to follow, “what is a ‘java,’ anyway?”