Strange Places, Strange People [Dor]

[Rorugir]

Rorugir shrugged, a number of futile words expressed on one simple twitch. "I don't know where she went." He said, his voice distant and detached as though the isur strove to avoid the subject matter. His eyes started forward, not concentrated on Dor or anything else. He seemed to be trying very hard not to think of the bird he helped escape. "She just...left. To one of your Ups, I'd say. And no, I've never seen one before." Here, curiosity was mingled with well-worn caution, two disparate parts of Rorugir struggling to decide the words that escaped his frozen lips. "I've never even heard a place described in such a way." A beat of silence, just like the countless beats beforehand in which silent thoughts had gone unsaid. Rorugir wanted to shiver in the wind, which had grown harsh, but he did not. He sat erect and very motionless. "This seems like good flying weather, Dor." He said, subconsciously. "But I've never flown before. Is this kind of wind good for flying?" A sideways glance followed the query, trying to glimpse into the bird's mind. But it was futile, for differences in the most different of people could never be reconciled so easily. It was only them Rorugir noticed Dor had given him a bit of breathing room. For that, he was thankful. The increased distance gave him space to concentrate himself and realign his emotions back into the shield which they had been before Dor's verbal spear had breached them. "Who are you, Dor?..." He murmured softly, not even speaking to the kelvic at all. "...A strange one, just like me. Birds of a feather..."

[Dor]

The bird girl was silent for a little while. Contemplation created the angles of her expression, the swell of her bottom lip being drawn between her teeth. She tilted her head against the pull of the wind, causing it to buffet at the collar of her jacket, at flyaway tangles of hair. "I use the word Up because that's what this place was to me," she made attempt to illustrate the pages of her story, hen pecked and tattered as they were. "I had never seen it before, but I knew where it was. It became a direction. It is a direction. My direction." Limbs collapsed, restoring themselves in the next moment. The motion sent her in a half crawl, half walk, awkward as the rest of her in this unsuited skin to go digging about the adjacent flowerbed. She was looking for the rock. "This kind of wind is super fantastic for flying," she asserted. A stone shot through with malachite was turned over in her fingers when she sat back on her heels in the grass. She tossed it over her shoulder in the next while, dismissing it for use in her Great Arm Experimentation. "I can do cartwheels in this wind. You would like flying. It's far, far better than walking." Walking was not her forte. Of course, he was already a first hand witness of that. "I already told you," she twisted around, peering at the Isur over the rise of a shoulder. "I'm Dor." A smirk threatened the line of a lush mouth. There was a longer name, a full name, but it went unmentioned. She had given it to no one in all her life, and knew it only to have been spoken twice and by separate mouths. "You think I'm strange?" Eyebrows drew together and she hefted up a rock the size of a child's fist. It was likely the one Rorugir himself had indicated earlier. It was turning over and over in her hands, examined thoroughly from all angles, before she kneed back around to scoot back to him.

[Rorugir]

Rorugir did not look at Dor, simply bit his lip and stared at his thumb in some wayward feeling. "From the way you talk about it, Up is more than a direction." he mused half to himself. "An ideal, a dream, something to strive to. That's what it's become." For the first time, Rorugir looked at Dor, and gave her a self-deprecating sort of smile. "That's what I got out of it, at least." Rorugir made some sort of questioning noise as Dor darted off, but it quickly gave way to a raised eyebrow and a twitch of the lips as he realized her intent. He watched her as she worked, not saying a word until she returned, rock in hand. Only then did he respond to her assertion. "Sounds fun...I wish I could fly." The feeling of vertigo he had experienced when he had looked down Tenten Peak returned to him suddenly, making him cringe. "On second thought, maybe not." he amended. Rorugir laughed at her response to his musings, but it was a wan sound. Not as hearty as the laughs he had made earlier. "Of course, how could I forget..." he apologized ruefully, mouth twisted in a smirk similar to Dor's own." Forgive me, my feathery little friend. I didn't mean to say you were anything but 'Dor'." The smirk settled into a smile, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. Something akin to frustration lingered there. "Strange...not the term I would use to describe you. Unique, that's what you are. And everyone wants to be unique, don't they?" Rorugir asked, rhetorically. "'Tis not a bad thing, nor a good thing. It's only what you make of it." The philosophical expression gave way to a lighter grin as Dor grew even closer. "Well, what are you waiting for? Swing away." Rorugir prodded with a chuckle. He helpfully extended his grey-stained left arm for her. As he waited for the blow, he spoke yet again. "Maybe after this I'll hit you with a rock." A touch of a smirk followed his words.

[Dor]

"But I already made it, didn't it?" What was becoming a familiar confusion splashed across her face as she sat back on her heels, weighing the rock in one hand. Dark eyes darted from the Isur's arm to his face and back to his arm again, hopefully not trying to decide on a target. "If you say I'm unique -- whatever that is," and here she made a pft sound, a hint of spittle behind it as if she was hacking out a feather. "Then I guess I am. What is it? If not strange. I --" Maybe after this I'll hit you with a rock. The bird girl went still within the din of footsteps through the plaza and the clapping hands of cloudscapes coming upon the aerial reefs of all Lhavit's soaringly defiant peaks. Her eyes flew back to his face. Then they narrowed. "Dare you," she determined and pulled back her arm before delivering a fist full of rock to his bicep.

[Rorugir]

"Unique is more general," the isur mused, arm twinkling in the dimming light. "It's used to describe anything not...ordinary. While strange, now strange, that has more negative..." he searched for the word, his limited knowledge of Common failing him, "...connections." Rorugir grimaced at the lackluster word, but it was the best he could do. Another glance was cast. Another question left unsaid. Instead, he continued onwards: "Take it from me, Dor, unique is good. No matter what anyone might tell you." The smile he wore was rendered brittle by the pain in his words. But any reprisal on his face fell through once the hard rock met rock hard skin. It broke over his god-touched arm, with only a few threads of pain making their way beyond the silver black sheen. Even with all her strength behind the rock, Rorugir barely felt it - something he knew well before the fact. And now, humored mischief made him give way to an ingenuous expression. "So, when are you going to hit me, again?" Rorugir asked as he yawned luxuriously. And then, an eyebrow raised and a surprised expression feigned realization; "Oh...I guess you just did. Kinda weak, don't you think?" He leaned over to pick the remainder of the stone from Dor's hand. "Now then..." Rorugir's eyes were gleaming in the dry smile that was claiming the contours of his face- "...it's my turn."

[Dor]

The bird's jaw dropped with clear amazement when the Isur yawned and failed to flinch, failed to so much as hiss in a quick intake of breath. Sharp eyes searched his face for evidence of pain, of injury, and found nothing that had been their previous, older wounds than any she could have possibly just trespassed upon him with a rock. "I will cut you," she did not cry out so much as she half spat, half laughed as if this was a combination of battle and game. "Don't hit me with that rock, Rorugir," she went on while rolling backwards, palms slapping to the ground in an awkward crab walk to place a yard or two of defensive space between them. "I will totally cut you. Seriously. Rocks hurt."

[Rorugir]

The line of his own mouth trembled, wavered, and finally broke into a full out grin. The hand with the rock clasped in it dropped to his side.

“I won't hit you.” Rorugir said wryly. “I have to wonder, though. What exactly would you cut me with? You seem a bit empty-handed, girl.” His eyes brewed with a merriment that had not been present a moment before.

Some stray thought drew Rorugir's attention. Something pressing gleamed from his eyes, and he frowned for a moment. Another something, close to regret, passed off his face and he turned back to face his erstwhile companion once more.

“Thank you, Dor,” Ror said simply, the shuffling of rough cloth accompanied by the unfolding of his frame. He began to dust the debris of the rock off even as he spoke. “This has certainly been a most...enlightening talk.” His lips quirked one last time. “I need to leave now...I have matters elsewhere to attend to. But I hope to run into you again, soon.” The smile on his face spoke only sincerity, any other emotion that might have shone through covered by a veil of silver veined skin.

He offered a hand to Dor again. This time it spoke not of a good first meeting, but for the reaffirmation of a friendship that had just been born. This time it spoke of a promise for the future, of a camaraderie found in the strangest of people in the strangest of places.

Hope, the hand ultimately said.

OoCAlright, I think its time we wrapped this up. One more post from you, maybe, or we can end it here if you want. I had great fun with this. Of course, we'll need to find some other mod to grade it for us. Got anyone in mind?