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[Fallon]

18th Autumn 514 AV

Fallon groaned, loudly. Her gloved palm pressed across her eyes, the firm pinch onto the bridge of her nose. There was only a small squeeze, the dipping into a low hiss as the certain pain throbbed here - pressured and building - before she could hold it no more. The fingers shifted away from the tenderness, the slick residue running down from her nostrils. It throbbed, aching as she gave only a flick of the hand and gave the spray of droplets. Her head ached, she could barely smell the alcohol past the overpowering scent of blood. Cheeks gave a puff, her eyes slitting down into narrows as she tried to gather some bearings as to what dingy back alley she was now in. She barely remembered staggering out of the back of Tall Johnny's - her new and latest haunt in her self-proclaimed exile.

A low pant, she let the back of her head press against the wall. The rest of her did not take long to simply slide down it, the rise and fall as the body simply whined and complained over its hurts. It would be safe to establish in the last few days leading up to the present, that Sunberth had well and truly turned to hai. The momentary calm that once held the streets was disrupted by the loud thunderclap of 'Sea-men' and their pet snakes making their presence known within the city. In response, the locals - dim-witted as they were and unwilling to educate themselves - reacted only as they did best, pure, thoughtless violence. And in response, Fallon was left to either fight for her life once moment, or crawl into the belly of whatever drink was at hand.

Or, on this occasion, mix both sides together into a drunken brawl. There was a shake of the head, a glance to the dying light of day and the hues that make up the spectrum of colours in the sky. Reds, blues, the filters of purples that seemed to swirl together, and then finally the inky blackness of night itself. Another groan, the muttering of a curse under her breath as she tried to find the strength to rise through her groggy mind. Muscles rebelled and so, with further spitting and cussing, she simply allowed herself to take the momentary pause and promptly remained at her new found perch on the floor.

Nausea gave a rest within her stomach, an in an attempt to still it she simply forced her gaze to stare upon it - even if it did seem to sway from either side. Cheeks gave a puff, her skin sapped and paling as she tried to focus her gaze onto something more substantial. In response there was only a sickened groan followed by another string of low, mumbled curses to bash against her ego. A pure, self reprimand, "Petching useless. Stupid. Stupid. Filth you are. Petching, useless, filth."

[Elyra]

It seemed Elyra's luck had finally turned. One minute, no signs of movement in this new alleyway-the next, a flash of grey fur that darted from one end of the path that could be generously considered a road towards another. With no hesitation, she sped after the small mouse that would become her first meal of the day. A tiny squeak from the direction of the rodent was echoed by a predatory growl from the young Kelvic's own mouth as the pair dashed along in the dirt. Hungry orbs of ice blue focused intently on their target. She felt powerful. Unstoppable...

...well, maybe except for that.

"That" was a solid wall straight ahead of her, plain as day now that she stared straight at it. She had perhaps ticks to stop or change course before she would slam straight into it. Her plan of action combined both those solutions-slowing down, she angled towards the open end of the alley. Head trauma was something Elyra couldn't afford. She feared losing control of herself and accidentally reverting shapes. An unconscious and unclothed young woman lying in an alley wasn't exactly a common occurrence and would most likely raise a question or two upon awakening. Thankfully, instead of colliding straight on with the wall, her shoulder bashed it. The sudden change of momentum brought her to a halt. She would hurt in the morning, but her head would be fine.

Distracted by the relief of not maiming herself, she failed to notice the other party in the alleyway-at least until she heard the mumbling of a self-deprecative string of curses. Chocolate ears flicked back in a brief display of annoyance, followed by the cat's attention immediately going towards the slumped figure who'd uttered them. A woman, guessed Elyra, by the tone of her voice, though her position and clothing made it hard to tell for sure. She seemed ill in some way, possibly hurt, and definitely upset with something. The Kelvic's mind twinged with pity as she looked at this woman. She knows nothing of who I am. It couldn't possibly hurt to attempt to comfort her, she reasoned. On that mental note, she sat on her haunches, tilted her head, and let out a soft "mew!" Should the woman prove receptive to a strange cat, then Elyra would approach her slowly and nuzzle her leg. If she seemed at all offput, she would slink away from the alley, but keep an eye on the woman.

[Fallon]

"Filth. Shyke. Petching..." There was a gentle tap of the back of the head as she cursed, a rhythm to her ridiculing mantra. And with every venomous spit the tapping gradually grew firmer - almost as if to counteract the strong throbbing pain that hovered across her still. Her brow creased into a line, her eyes forming down into fine narrows as she attempted to focus and work through the mental fog that was consuming. Not that they served long as a barrier. The lids screwed up tightly, and Fallon simply held her head tightly in her hands - there was little else she could do until she brought herself out of the throws of this momentary dip within the mental darkness.

A suck in the air, a bite down onto her lip as she pushed the world around her out and away. Ears twitched, straining as the pulse gave a stir, the throat vibrating a quivering moan as she ate her words and finally let them settle within the pit of her stomach. Everything stiffened, the grim mask wavering and then settling down into one of neutrality as she finally grasped upon a more stable mental plateau. A juddered exhale, her shoulders slumped and hesitantly the eyes cracked open to turn to the narrow alleyway. She was still within the dingy depths of the city, the aches ever there and patient. Her hands peeled away, falling to her side as her eyes simply turned to the left.

It was the meowing however that made her turn her gaze sweeping across to the right. Her head rolled then, the eyes narrowing down as she felt the pricking of bruising begin to form across the bridge of her nose. There was a small wince as eyes strained to take the shape into focus. White - no - creamed, with dirt. Or was it dirt? She could not tell in the light. Lips parted, a gentle stretch of the jaw as she mused over what it was exactly she was looking at.

"Oh. A cat," she sighed, surrendering the working accent she wore as Bitzer for the natural, rolling lilt. She let her gaze roll away, thankful for the momentary distraction from other things. Cheeks gave a puff, the sea-green orbs looking onto the wall opposite her. Lips pulled up into a struggled curl, a small wince as her face seemed to resist. She gave a poor imitation of a meow back, a stifled laugh and a peer back, "What do you want whiskers? Petch me, talking to a cat. Madness." She shook her head, and let her eyes close shut for a moment, enjoying the momentary inkiness of it all, "No food here kitty. Nothing here for you but a stupid human... Bloody, stupid human." Sniffing, she took in the low stench of Sunberth, a flash of teeth as she gave a grasp for normality, or something she could grasp onto, "Shouldn't hang around humans. Petching broken lot they are. Pure but quick to taint. Don't get filthy because of them now."

[Elyra]

Seafoam pierced slate as the woman realized that she was not as alone in the alley as she'd thought she was before. The hint of a smile crossed her lips accompanied by the sigh of observations even she could've made. "Mraow!" chirped the cat indignantly-though she meant "of course I'm a cat! Are you blind?", she lacked the necessary vocal equipment to speak in terms that she would understand. Blinking, Elyra slowly approached her new alleymate, and lowered herself onto the ground to lay next to her. The cat's tail would twitch if she was petted, but she would gladly tolerate the feeling.

This woman who she laid next to smelled of many things, the most overpowering of which was alcohol. Elyra herself had never drank before-she preferred refreshing water to anything else, especially if the mere scent of the alternative beverage burned the nose. She was aware of its intoxicating effects, since most everyone in Sunberth either had a taste for it or a strong desire to drink themselves into a state where nothing they did seemed to matter. There was no ill will present in the Kelvic's mind towards those who chose such means of dealing with their problems, only pity and a lingering wish to help them.

She found the woman's attempt at a replying meow to be adorable, and appreciated the effort put into it, no matter that she'd just let loose a string of nonsense from her mouth. Stretching out soft brown paws and closing her eyes, the feline repeated the human's meow, doing her best to imitate the tone of her voice. Elyra rested her chin on her paws and looked up at the woman, idly flicking her tail against the ground and her leg.

It was saddening to hear her negative comments about humans. Surely they can't be all that bad. Oh, it's easy to make them think they're getting what they want, but does simplemindedness directly relate to how much anyone or anything deserves to be alive? Slightly confused by the path her thoughts were taking, the cat blinked-long and hard-and rubbed her head against the woman's leg.

Only then did she pick up the smell of something truly unwelcome on her newly found pillow. A dog, maybe? A wolf? She wasn't entirely sure what creature exactly produced the offending smell. Flattening her ears, Elyra cautiously continued to sniff the woman. What was that smell?

[Fallon]

The cat did as most cats did, meowed stared and confirmed its territory in the loosest sense of the word. The bruised gaze cracked open to look back briefly, taking the moment to simply observe the furry creature, before turning away once more. Nothing would be gained, it was not exactly like it could communicate back. Still, it gave its swaggering trot over, the flick of the tail as it sprawled next to her. She barely registered it in honesty, her mind was still ensnared with various thoughts and caught within its darkened realm. There was an inhale, a wince as her nose throbbed angrily in response and gave the firm snorting sound of what could only be described as blood.

Grimacing she gave a gently stroked her nose, tentatively working out how much damage had occurred and then she let the arm slump down once more. Energy, strength, she had to conserve it for when she made a move again - or if trouble came her way like it undoubtedly would . Releasing a hiss she brought the cloak up around her against the air, her gaze looking across to the wall once more. The cat stretched and pressed, the noticeable rub that made. Her form shifted away then, a small lean as she shuffled to escape the brief contact.

"Don't touch now whiskers," she mumbled, her gaze sweeping and turning so it went to the mouth of the alley. Just beyond the people continued their movements, the world ticked on by whilst the silent observer simply took to listening and watching, "Don't touch..." It was still hard to resist herself though, so easy it would have been to simply reached the gloved hand down. Her green-blue orbs looked upon the sticky residue that smothered her finger tips, and in response she shuddered and withdrew them. No, no touching.

Still, the sniffing was something new that made her bring her attention back down to the feline, "Oi, what you- You sniffing me?" She frowned at that, not quite sure how to take the turning situation. Though once more it did serve as a gentle distraction, "Probably alcohol. Or blood. Kind of gets over you in a bar fight." Fallon massaged at her ribs, another wince as the cat continued, "Stop it whiskers, stop." She sucked in the air, her head throbbing as she stared down firmly to the cat, her finger extended to a point. With a creased brow she spoke firmly - or tried to at least, it dipped into little more than a sigh towards the end, "Don't sniff. Stop. Stop it. Just... probably Alcohol. Or... never mind."

Fallon allowed herself to slip into defeat, the back of her head tapping once more against the alleyway wall. The cool surface greeted her, the low snort escaping as she shook her head. Her voice dipped into that of a whisper, "I don't even know anymore. Do what you want. Always got told you can never make a cat do things, their own masters and all that..."

[Elyra]

Whiskers. That was a new nickname for the Kelvic. Names slung her way often included 'mongrel' and 'pest', though the most memorable of those had been the man who stepped on her tail. Before he could react, her claws raked his leg and she hissed in self-defense. Though he had backed off, his retreating words insinuated she was the reincarnation of his long-dead mother. But being called whiskers held no negative connotations. She did, after all, possess a set of them.

At the woman's request, she gave up sniffing at the canine scent on her. The Kelvic had assumed her fresh injuries were from a wolf attack, though that theory had just been proven wrong. But then there was a finger, extended in her face. Normally this would have earned the offending digit a bite, but the woman was hurt already and Elyra had no intention of wounding her further. This she sniffed as well, finding the scent of blood and of alcohol, and an idea. Cats, as a sign of caring, would often clean the coats of other felines. While this woman was not a feline-nor was Elyra a true cat-she seemed to need comfort. Alcohol was a human source of comfort, but it was not a living thing and provided the consumer with more problems the next morning than they'd started out with the night before. The feline did the reasonable thing and licked the gloved finger in front of her.

While her shape was that of a cat's, it was almost impossible for her to verbally communicate with humans. She had very limited tools at her disposal. But she wanted to convey to her alleymate that no harm was intended, and to do this, she would have to do more than lick and sniff at her.

So she curled up on the ground in between the wall and the woman, extending a paw out to rest her chin on. Elyra closed her eyes and purred quietly, indicating that she was content in her current position. As long as she didn't move, her eyes would remain shut and she would continue with her purring.

[Fallon]

There was a slight element of surprise when the cat stopped, her brow forced into rising as she tried to understand why it obeyed such words. It did not look trained or looked after, so how it managed to understand things was beyond her. Clicking as the cat gave its snuffling, she simply sighed and let the creature do as it wished. Even as it proceeded to give a gentle lick and press, the woman simply let the rest of her form go limp and simply resided in the world. It was bizarre, and in response it left the back of her mind niggling over what exactly was going on. Lips pursed into a line, a narrow as the rumbling purr simply escaped into the air and filled it.

Stillness and simple companionship, the calm as the city lived and thrummed on around them. There was a sniff, the mind lingering as the hollowness settled within and left her innards simply craving. It was not a physical pain as such - though she did have enough of that already with the way her face and head was throbbing - but an internal one. Comfort, holding and the embrace, but that opportunity was gone now and so she was left to writhe and suffer. It was well deserved, she had decided, the fault did land solely on her shoulders and prove her incompetence quite clearly - now more than ever. And so, the internal wounding was left raw and to fester. Nothing more, nothing less.

Regardless however, the cat still had not made much of a move and took to simply curling up next to her and the purring continued - loud as it was. Fallon sighed, her brow raising as she tried to figure the situation out, only to find herself grasping at nothing and left floundering with what exactly to do. It still fluttered for an answer, even as she considered making once more that bridge and petting the creature - and then paused to look upon her gloves. Stained, horrid, impure, they were quickly withdrawn and placed upon her lap, out the way and reducing the risk of touch. She shrugged into her cloak, hugging her sides as she tasted the air and sunk into her musing. That was at least until another voice sounded out.

"Well, well, well... what do we have here?" Her gaze lifted, the distinctly male voice prickling at her senses. There was a turn of the head to the mouth of the alleyway, the once neutral expression twisting and turning into a scowl. Lips peeled back, the beginning of a snarl sliding out between her teeth as she glared. He continued, a low laugh escaping out, "So here's the Red Wolf, stuck in the gutter like some petching whore. Serves you to get put in pl-"
"Shut up Vagik," her voice focused, straining as she coughed and cleared it out to take on the rougher tones she used for working. The accent of Bitzer. Eyes turned and burned, a gentle clinking of her form as she pushed herself up to her feet despite the rebellion of her muscles. Her hand gently shimmered round behind her under the folds, the attention shifting now from cat to the potential threat that was before her. The fingers managed to stroke the hilt of the kukri, the void dipping and loosing the previous warmth rapidly, "What do you want?"

[Elyra]

The feline leapt to her feet at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, ears flicked straight back and eyes narrowed. At least now she had a name to associate with her alleymate's face, even if that name was canine in origin. Perhaps that was the source of the smell on her. Perhaps this Red Wolf was indeed a wolf, a Kelvic like the cat who'd just laid next to her. Elyra possessed no means of confirming or denying her theory in her current form, but if the pair met again, then she would attempt to discern where the name came from. If all went well, then the young Kelvic would be able to figure out the source of the faint smell of wolf.

Her voice roughened, rasping with an accent Elyra wouldn't have guessed she possessed. With the growl of her voice came the hiss of a cat in a poor attempt to intimidate this intruder upon the alley. He was a stranger to her, but apparently an enemy of the Wolf. Fur raised on end and tail accompanied it, ears flattened and teeth bared. These were the mechanisms available to make her seem larger and more confident than she truly was, and the feline took full advantage of them.

It was only then the Kelvic realized what she was doing. Leaping to the defense of a stranger she'd just met while an even more unfamiliar man hurled insults at her would not have happened if she'd taken her human form. Though she couldn't guess at the man's motivation to spit vulgarities out at the woman, she realized that the body of a house cat gave her an anonymity that allowed her to act as she wished without consequences or recognition to the human body she occasionally occupied. Had insults been flung her way, Elyra would greatly appreciate the support of a stranger-no matter if that stranger was an animal.

And so Whiskers took up her mantle next to the Red Wolf, hoping to appear confident in herself. Slate eyes bored into the unwelcome assailant, daring him to turn his attention towards her. What did he want, indeed?

[Fallon]

Fallon's eyes burned, a weigh up of shape as the stranger continued his stare down. Lips parted briefly, a flash of white within the shadow of her features as she begun the slow process of standing up. Legs gave a wobble, her gaze continuing to rise as she met the other, the lids narrowing into a line as she focused herself. Besides her the cat was animated, fur bushed out and the tail raised - it reminded her partially of Orvin's behaviour. Animal instinct to a potential new threat, the body still deciding up on whether a fight or flight response was the best course of action.

There was the quietest click as she begun the process of drawing the kukri, half sheathed beneath the folds. A step forward, her entire form gave a slight stagger, the head shaking away the sluggishness that seemed to come with it. A flex of fingers, a small tilt of the head to one side, the shoulders rolling off the momentary stiffness gained from sitting down upon the cold floor. Joints gave a popping crack, the strange sense of relief coming from it. Lips peeled back, a flash of white teeth as she stared down the stranger.

"What a sorry sight you are," He gave a spit, followed by a sneer, "Where's your wolf? Where's your red? Stupid, with a dang cat. You really sunk, eh?" There was his own step forward, swaggering almost in his gait. He popped his own knuckles, "Can't last without your spider eh? Your little web spinner. So weak, you are pathetic." Her jaw clench, the low growl reverberating up from her stomach, "Gonna petch you up, gonna-"
"You here for just threat shouting?" Her tone grew cool, the chin rising as she watched him come closer. His knuckles came up, ready to be used as she continued to speak, "Or did you have an itch that needs to be scratched? I don't have all day."
"Not what I've been hearing," there was that sneer again, more vicious than before in its mannerisms. Hairs rose, lips peeling back into a snarl, "Heard you been skulking, tail between your legs likes some little coward. And you know what I like to do to cowards?" Fallon's jaw cracked, "Give them a good beating when they're down so they stay down."

In reality there was really no will power to fight, there was no want for anything other to be left alone with her thoughts. So when the fist finally came flying forward, she let it collide with her gut, the air escaping as a second came round and in response sending her slumping down the wall. Cheeks puffed, her fingers still around the hilt as the third and final hit sent her onto her back. There was a blink up to the shadow of the man above her, a look of displeasure on his face. He gave a spit and a grunt as he begun to pace off, "Gods, you really are pathetic. Don't even fight back.... waste of my petching time. So much for being a red wolf."

[Avarice]

Greetings! Salutations! Hello! *insert all other greetings in ze world*

I am Avarice, your lovely AS of Sunberth; and I am here to inform you that there is something wonderful coming your way...A Grade! Yes. You've finished a thread and it was wonderful so below you'll find your hard-earned XP and Lores. Any questions? PM me! (Don't be shy, I don't bite...I promise!) Also, please be sure to edit your post in the request thread to reflect your having received a grade!

 

Fallon

XP

• Meditation +1
• Endurance +3

LORES

• Beating Myself Up...Through Getting Beaten Up
• Shutting it All Out
• Humans are Broken Creatures
• Cats Do As They Please
• "Whiskers", the Cat
• Conserving What Little Strength Remains
• So Much for Being the Red Wolf...

MISCELLANEOUS

• N/A

 

Elyra

In light of your departure, your grade has been withheld. In the event of your return, simply shoot me a PM and I'll award your XP and Lore.

Yours Truly,
- Avarice <3