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Post by Zelda <SS> on Nov 26, 2012 21:30:50 GMT -5
The young Skyloft knight Zelda had awoken earlier that day, some time around noon or so, with nothing but a small forest, a river and wide plains of nothing all around. Her first thought, aside from wondering how the hell she'd gone from Skyloft to being somewhere completely alien and why her head felt like it was splitting open, was that she would need a camp site to weather the night. Then she could worry about where she was and attempt to figure out where a nearby town or city might be. She was also briefly worried about her best friend... but she quickly shoved off that concern. Link could take care of himself; she didn't need to worry over him that much.
And with such thoughts in mind, she immediately set to putting up a nicely sized green tent and making a moderately sized fire pit. Conveniently, she'd been checking over her exploration kit for wandering the surface below Skyloft when whatever had happened, happened. Unfortunately, it seemed she was out of matches, and the one she did have was wet from an odd monster deciding it would attack her with water. A quick arrow from her bow sent it running off, but now she had no way of lighting a fire. Perhaps the worse thing was the fact that the sun was setting quickly now, and the sky had already turned a purple shade.
Maybe she should have collected her firewood at a quicker pace instead of taking in the scenery so much. "Ugh... Now what do I do?" Zelda asked no one in particular, crossing her arms and scowling at the neatly arranged branch pieces in the fire pit. And then she remembered... "Ugh, Hylia I'm stupid..." she muttered to herself, giving a wave of her hand and sending a small wave of fire in to the wood. In a few moments, the fire had built itself up... and a fairly tall man bumbled in to her camp. She couldn't help but stare in surprise at whoever it was, and after a second she remembered her manners. "Uh... Hi?" |
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Post by Rainier N. "Oz" Schiffer on Nov 26, 2012 23:34:31 GMT -5
The only thing he could really be thankful for was the lack of the chill, biting wind that he had been raised to endure - the wind whose creeping fingers swept through jackets and clothes and bit at exposed flesh, stealing breath and words. But in fact, Oz might have missed that wind, the semblance of home that belonged in the bottom of his heart.
Not that he would ever state so, however, gritting his teeth together in a half-smile half-grimace as he beat his way through more brush with one of his knives - not quite a machete, but it would do for the moment. The smile was becoming strained, and he only kept it on for fear of encountering someone else... perhaps a vain fear, but he figured the odd feeling was more than an acceptable price to pay for the amount of protection the expression lent him.
Especially now. In this day and age, one may never know when they might next stumble upon some individual who wished, for some reason, to kill them. So, the bright smile was somewhat of a shield against any possible fellow forest-travelers... if any stumbled upon his route, he thought wryly, grumbling slightly as a sharp bough caught his dark travel cloak and almost tore the fabric.
"Blasted foliage," he groaned, hacking at the outcropping branch viciously. The blade sank into the wood about an inch and a half, stopping dead at the center of the cylindrical growth - throwing his entire weight backwards, it took several yanks for Oz to get the thing free again, cursing himself for losing his temper.
Shoving shoulder-first through the branches and other brush, the blonde man stumbled onto a small clearing; the scent of fire reached his nose, and he looked up suddenly, plastering another smile on his face. The one blue eye of his that showed, the one not covered by the half-blindfold, glinted in the light of the fire as he peered at the young blonde woman, hand half-raised as if waving at the flames.
His neck prickled. The pupil hidden under the blindfold itched painfully; the smell of magic in the air was almost palpable. Unfeeling, the pleasant expression fell and shattered to pieces on the grass under his boots.
The curse that dropped from his lips, unbidden, was under his breath and inaudible to all but those with the keenest hearing (or perhaps pointed ears). "Witch," the young man hissed - turned on one heel - and strode off to the left, skirting around the campfire and giving a wide berth to the young woman.
A slight prickle of familiarity nagged at him, but he brushed it away, drawing his cloak tighter around himself as he (calmly) fled the area.
WORDS! 470
STATUS! donnee
TAGS! hi zelda!
NOTES! excuse him he has no manners
INSPIRATION! derp
CREDITS! Template By arro @ Caution!
LYRICS! Mr Brightside by The Killers
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Post by Zelda <SS> on Dec 9, 2012 13:42:49 GMT -5
Zelda just blinked at the man's response to her. What on earth had just happened? And then it registered that he called her a witch, and that got her up on her feet. Except he was already gone. But she didn't care all that much, she was up and yelling after him. "Hey, who are you calling a witch?! Get back here!" she called, but he was probably already out of earshot. Zelda glared in the direction the man had disappeared for a few more moments before turning to go back to her camp fire. And stepping on something.
Some kind of blindfold, it looked like. Maybe she could use it for something. Zelda picked up the strip of cloth and sat down in front of her camp fire, happy to have gotten the site set up before the sun set. She couldn't help but wonder who that strange man had been, and why he felt the need to insult her for no reason. Why would you call someone a witch just by seeing them at a camp site in a forest? That was just rude. After a minute or so of fuming, her thoughts turned to her good old best friend Link.
Was he okay? Well, she was sure he was okay if nothing else. Where was he? She had been with him when she blacked out, before she woke up here. Some kind of teleportation spell? Demise? A case of severe bad luck? She wasn't really worried about him, so to speak. He killed what was basically a god and saved her, he could handle whatever this place had to throw at him. Even with that in her mind, Zelda couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. This place felt totally unfamiliar. It didn't have that smell the woods on the surface had when she was down there. It didn't have the creatures that had lived there...
Zelda shook her head and pulled her bag next to her to check her supplies. Hopefully she had enough to make it to a city or a town nearby; she didn't think she had enough arrows to sit here and wait on Link to catch up. And who knew, maybe her rupees were worth more than whatever currency was used in this world? That would be nice. |
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Post by Rainier N. "Oz" Schiffer on Dec 9, 2012 15:13:59 GMT -5
It was as he shoved a springy branch particularly vehemently that he paused mid-step, coming to a sudden realization. Due to that pause, the branch had plenty of time to launch backwards and strike him across the face, a mottled twig drawing blood above his eyebrow.
Oz cursed, but barely felt the impact, instead squaring his shoulders and turning around slowly.
Both of his eyes were visible. The fabric that had obscured his "bad" eye was gone... and if he knew karma well enough, he knew exactly where it could be found.
"Absolutely fantastic," he said to himself dryly, wiping the blood pooling on his eyebrow away with a thumb.
Retracing his footsteps through the woods wasn't hard; he had not gone far, and the irrepressible irritation that filled his veins whenever he caught the scent of magic had caused him to take his displeasure out on more than a few branches. It looked less like a man had passed through than a rampaging baby behemoth.
With each step, his posture became stiffer, muscles singing with tension. The smell of wood-smoke began to become apparent; he was getting close, very close, as he was upwind from the campsite anyway.
A last copse of trees and he was back in the firelit ring, frowning severely at the blonde girl as he tried to soothe his wounded pride. A few moments and then you can be gone, he tried to calm himself by thinking. It had little effect.
"Excuse me, miss," he said fake-politely, the words coming out of his mouth rather stilted. His prejudice ran deep, indeed. "I believe I... left something of mine in your possession. Mayhaps I could recover it, and soon be out of your sight?"
His lips were pursed together in a thin line, shoulders square, posture quivering - waiting for a single sign of aggression from the seemingly-harmless young woman.
He knew better.
WORDS! 330
STATUS! finished!
TAGS! you!
NOTES! still mannerless and ready for a fight. jeez, calm down, oz.
INSPIRATION! ruined hometown [aggressive mix] - xiii-2 ost
CREDITS! Template By arro @ Caution!
LYRICS! Mr Brightside by The Killers
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