My New Pathetic Life (Bran)

by **Drusilla** on February 17th, 2016, 5:29 am

75th of Winter 515AV

Drusilla had been out once again shopping. She had begun hoarding items she deemed necessary for her soon to be family. An unpleasant chuckle escaped her lips. She was terrifying! A danger! A threat! That was until merchants saw she had Kina to spend, then all was fine and dandy. Drusilla shook her head, petching two faced people.... With a heavy sigh and purchases in hand she headed 'home'. Today's items were bolts of cloth to continue making clothes for her coming children. Within the past few days it had been a large basket that had barely fit through the door, a baby sling, an acceptable wash basin ( as she doubted the newborns would be well behaved enough to be taken to the bathhouse) and finally a thick winter blanket.

To most it was just a random array of items, but Dru saw things differently than others. The huge basket was perfect for a bassinet with the handle on top. She could easily sew fabric over one end over the handle to keep the sun out and the blanket would line the bottom giving the twins something soft to sleep on. Drusilla was quite impressed by her own ingenuity.

Almost to her house a sudden sense of dread came over her. What would she find this time? Someone had delighted at tossing rocks through her windows, shattering them. The third time time this happened, Drusilla had simply gotten all the windows boarded up. It didn't matter she could see in low light anyway.

Sometimes she'd find insults or threats carved on the outside of her house and small dead animals were often left on her doorstep. And while it was an act done in fear and hatred, Drusilla happily accepted their poor knowledge of her race and took the snacks they left to eat later.

So far with her experiences here in Lhavit... Drusilla hated it..Well, less the city itself and more the people who lived here. She missed Wind Reach, that was her home nowhere else. Had it not been for her pregnancy and the well being of her children... Drusilla would of never left. Perhaps when they were older and skilled they could return... With a twinge of homesickness pulling at her heart Drusilla arrived 'home' and began looking for signs of damage. After a thorough search she found nothing more than a beheaded squirrel. Picking up the poor creature the Symenestra unlocked the door and headed inside away from Lhavit and into the dark. She had sewing to do.

by **Brandon Blackwing** on February 19th, 2016, 7:24 pm

Brandon had thought it was about time he'd pay Dru a visit. Not only because he hadn't seen her in more than seventy days, but also because he wanted to drop off his old shirt. That, and he wanted to check on her, of course. So the bat made his way through Lhavit's streets, going up and down the tiers, not really sure if he was looking forward to this or not. Dru had a tendency to put words in his mouth he hadn't said, and pasted emotions onto him he didn't feel. Or, more accurately, she assumed way too many things about him, usually being far from the truth. He sighed.

As he strolled through the last couple alleys, closing in on the Spider's residence, a subtle change in the scent of the air put the bat on guard. It was not something he was used to smelling within these parts of the city, not something so fresh... It was the subtle hint of roses' fragrance, the aroma Dira had faintly smelled off. Something here had been touched by her, and recently. Something had died here... or had been brought to these alleyways. Either way, it probably didn't mean anything good. The Kelvic broke into a sprint, being too close to Dru's house to be not worried.

There was no need to run for long, as he only turned to corners and found himself in the right alley, a small house with boarded-up windows immediately catching his eye. Not just because of the wooden barriers, but because of the group of teens standing around, one placing a dead rodent on the doorstep. All of them chuckled, and Brandon was somewhat relieved that it was just that. He doubted Dru would even mind, however, then one of them told the rest it was time to execute the rest of the plan as well. The teens nodded, one of them placing a couple cans on the ground, the others fishing up hammers and wedges from their pockets.

One of them opened one of the cans, and the smell wafted towards the Kelvic, a smell he instantly recognized as paint. The vandals started working on the boards then, pulling out nails with their hammers, and Brandon approached, not quite happy with what they were planning. He grabbed one by his collar before they noticed he was there, pulling him over his outstretched leg, flooring the boy. “Care to explain what exactly you boys are doing here?” he smiled falsely, “I am very interested.” He let his gaze sweep over all five of them, staring into their eyes menacingly.

Whether one of them was just extremely stupid, or just a plain old rebel forged by puberty, Brandon did not know, but the boy did explain with great pride and a hint of excitement that they were pulling off the blockade the spider had placed in front of her windows, so they could throw cans of paint inside. He even dared to top it all off with a challenging “Got a problem with that?” while staring down on the bat, standing at least one foot taller. His with was a little less impressive though, as were the amount of muscle on his arms -and possibly his whole body. “A problem? Well, yes, Beanstalk, as a matter of fact I do.” He shifted his position slightly, sliding his legs subtly into a fighting stance, though he kept his upper body relaxed. There were five of them, five boys who were not even a challenge. The one he'd floored earlier was already back on his feet, sending dirty glares his way. “You see, the woman who lives here happens to be a close friend of mine. And I don't take it well when people make her life just that little harder!”

For a couple ticks his words drifted through the air as if they were puffs of breath, slowly fading away into the cold winter air. Brandon used that time to analyze the teens who stood in a small circle around him, searching for the most brutish-looking of them all. He found one, a guy who was a head shorter than Beanstalk, but at least trice as wide. It'd become the figure of a guy who did a lot of heavy lifting, the teen would grow into a bulky man, but for now, he was just a boy.

When it became clear the boys had dismissed the Kelvic's words, their muscles tensing as their spokesperson and possible leader Beanstalk gave a yell, Brandon charged towards the most brawny-looking boy, crossing the distance within half a tick. His fist was already traveling towards the boy's head, fueled by both the muscles of his arm, but also those of his legs and back. His hips and torso generated rotational force on top of that, making for a punch that was bound to deal some serious damage. His fist hit the boy squarely in the jaw just below his ear before he even had time to react, and as Brandon turned around to deal with the other four, the big teen collapsed like a sack of potatoes, knocked out cold. The sight of it appeared to diminish the morale of the boys, but the Kelvic decided to add a little more fear to make them run off.

“Begone!” he snarled, reaching under his cloak to draw a dagger, unveiling it with a flourish. “Or the continuation of this won't be pretty!” Two of them ran off immediately, leaving two others behind, who were looking not all that confident now that their forces had been cut in half. There was a moment of hesitation, and then they scattered too, leaving their unconscious friend behind. He woke up a chime or so later, greeted by Brandon's not-so-friendly face as the bat was nailing the loosened boards back in place. “Get the petch out of here! And you'd better not be trying to pull any of this shyke again!” He didn't even have to be told. The bat sighed, glancing around, then conjuring his lockpicks out of his pouch and into his hand. Positioning himself so that it'd be hard to see what exactly he was doing -in case someone happened to exit their house in the alley- he started to pick the lock, having it open in a dozen ticks.

To prevent the teens -or someone else- to use the cans of paint in the near future, Brandon brought them inside, stepping over the dead rodent left on the doorstep. Dru could also redecorate if she wanted too; going from the sight of Turrin's aerie, that was a hobby of hers. He sat himself down in a chair after having locked the door behind him, making himself comfortable. And then he waited until the door opened again, and the Spider stepped inside.

“Good day Dru,” he smiled, genuinely this time. “How have you been doing?”

Credit goes to Engghaen

by **Drusilla** on February 20th, 2016, 1:11 pm

Hearing Brandon's voice behind her didn't startle her the least bit. It sounded like he was in a good mood. What to do? "Hey, I hope you weren't here waiting in the dark for too long. Just put on a smile. Had I known you were stopping by I'd of picked up...." Her mind drew a blank. "Something...... something in the food category." She nodded to herself. She was doing her best to stall having to look at Brandon.

It wasn't that she didn't want to see him, it was quite the opposite honestly. But for him to see her like...this... Her eyes looked around for something to focus on, "Why.. did you... bring paint?" Here befuddlement turned to a saddened tone. "You didn't bring this, did you? That's why there wasn't anything defaced outside... You caught them in the act." The Symenestra sighed tiredly and placed the cloth bolts on her table and then took a seat on the chest next to Brandon. After giving the dead rodent she held a good look over Drusilla bore her fangs and bit it. She stayed frozen in place for a few ticks before pulling away and placing the rodent beside her waiting for it to fester and bloat. "They'll be back I hate to say and if not the ones you spooked others will." She finally turned and looked at Brandon.He seems well. "Even worse if they find where you live you'll be a target too. And with your... line of work that's the last thing you need."

Drusilla chose her words carefully. This was the first time she was regarding him as a thief and not a teacher. She looked away from him and checked the now bloated tree rat. Deeming it ready she picked it up and dug her fangs in it and stayed like that for some ticks. Had it been anyone but Brandon, she'd not of eaten in front of them. Soon she was finished, "Tree rats... not my favori-" Drusilla stopped and held a hand over one side of her stomach. "Why must you do this? The other doesn't!" The word's were directed at her stomach. Then a thought and she spoke to Brandon, "Hey, put your hand here, this one's kicking again. You can feel it... If you want to... Also I have something to tell you. I wanted to tell you that day in Wind Reach, but you just said your peace and waltzed out." After a deep breath she looked the bat dead in the eyes, "You're the father of a pair of twins. Congrats, your pre-mating season mating was a triumph. Way to go you!" For the first time in a long time the Symenestra smiled and laughed.

"That's why I came here, for them. I did it because Yasi-hood starts at age eight. For you that's like.... forever. But for us... It's so young! They'd be taken from me and put with all the Inarta children. They'd get teased and picked on. Then they'd get put in the work force, hopefully as chiets...." Drusilla's tone changed, "But what if I had stayed and one of these two if not both were girls? The things they'd have to do.." Her tone grew more angry than worried as she spoke, " I refuse to let some entitled man have at my daughter, your daughter just because a bird likes him! And there would be nothing she could do about it."

"As for how I'm doing, take a look around. This is my new life. My pathetic new life. I live in a house with all the windows boarded up because someone was throwing rocks through them, death treats are written on the outside of my house, dead things are left at my doorstep.... If they do this to me... What will they try and do to my children? How am I doing? Brandon, I'm terrified for not only my life but for these two who aren't even born yet."

by **Brandon Blackwing** on February 22nd, 2016, 9:33 pm

Brandon shrugged at the spider’s words, laying the side of his foot on his knee of his other leg. “I don’t mind the dark,” the bat spoke, his ability to see in the dark not being much better than that of any ordinary human, but still enough of a boon to aid him discern shapes and forms in the low light of Dru’s flat. It didn’t really matter all that much however, sight wasn’t his primary sense anyway; Brandon depended quite a lot on smell and hearing. So too could he determine –even without actually managing to catch the spider’s expression or anything else except her silhouette- that she was not quite doing as well as he’d hoped.

Not that he was an optimist, but he’d thought that the citizens would cease their nonsense after the first half of the season. Apparently, they had not. It was taking a toll on her, he knew, adding even more stress and problems on top of her pregnancy. She sounded weary, her voice was laced thick with exhaustion, even if she kept her head high and played the tough girl. Dru was a strong woman, but still, there were weights too heavy even for a strong person.

“Look, Dru. What I do is my business. If I decide to spook the brats giving you a hard time, than that’s my decision. If they come for me, then that’s my problem… and theirs.” His voice gained a dangerous tone as he spoke the last words, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Perhaps in Wind Reach Dru had not noticed, or hadn’t wanted to, or maybe Brandon hadn’t shown this side all that often, but he was on his home turf now. The dangerous side came out far more often. Just as soon as it had appeared though, it vanished again, a smile taking its place.

The spider started eating then, and Brandon just sat back and watched, or rather listened as the Symenestra consumed the liquefied guts of the dead rodent. At least she was eating healthy, and not somewhat starved as she’d been in Wind Reach. Good. That was something. She finished her meal then, complaining to … her stomach? Ah, the child growing in her was moving, it seemed, and she wanted him to feel it too. Well then, to humor her, he’d do as she wanted him too. He got up out of his seat, and placed his hand on her side. Dru babbled about his performance at the end of last summer, and the bat felt a slight kick or punch against his palm. Perhaps I should get Dru to have those two –or at least this one- to train in martial arts. That was a great punch. Palm strike. Whatever.

Brandon removed his hand then, falling back into his chair, once more placing his foot on his knee. “You’re starting to see things from my point of view,” he remarked, as smirk playing around his lips. “Couldn’t agree with you more on that. Just because they get chosen by a bird doesn’t make them worthy of anything.” He snorted. And then, as Dru continued on, he sighed. “Right. Want me to do something about it?” Sure, it would take a while if he did it himself, but the effect would probably be significant. And perhaps things would only get worse. He pinched his brow. “Dru, try and get the Okomo on your side. If they like you, the citizens of Lhavit should stop their … pranks. Give the Okomo some apples or so, get one to follow you if you go out. It’ll be a shield of sorts.”

Now that was a better idea. “Show the people you treat the Okomo well, and show them that they like you back. They should stop being asshats then.” And if they didn’t, he could always pull some strings and get the Shinya on her guard. Surely Alses still had some influence? Besides, Zintila probably didn’t like her “civilized” citizens acting like barbarians. But that wasn’t why he was here. “Either way, here’s a little gift –apart from the paint then, I mean,” he joked, pulling his coat and then the old shirt off, throwing the latter in a lazy arch at the Symenestra. “I believe I still owed that to you.”

Credit goes to Engghaen

by **Drusilla** on March 8th, 2016, 5:10 am

Drusilla gave a sigh, "Of course you don't mind the dark... You're a bat... and nocturnal. Or did you forget that?" She rolled her eyes but for some reason Brandon's comment made her smirk. "Saying that you don't mind the dark is like saying bats fly or some other very obvious statement."

With a bit of effort Drusilla made it to her feet, taking the discarded shirt with her. She looked over the shirt while she listened to Brandon, "The Okomo? You mean the big goats? Honestly, after my first encounter with one... Sure, it saved my life. But, I find them kind of scary. I mean, they're big and I'm fragile. What if I get trampled?" They were like horses armed with sharp horns. She paused thinking over everything. "But, I'll have to do it."

She took the shirt and laid it flat on the table, and after a brief search found her scissors. "I didn't want to bother you with my problems. Besides, after you said that to me in Wind Reach I couldn't help but get the feeling that if I came here you wanted nothing to do with me. 'Do what you please, but whatever comes of it is not my responsibility'." She quoted the bat's words. They still rang clear in her head. She didn't care if her voice sounded hurt, in all truth those words had stung more than anyone could of fathomed. She went quiet as she cut the sides of the shirt, separating the back from the front. "Hmm...Perhaps two smaller bats instead of the original large one... That way I don't have to worry about if they're sharing. Growing up in Kalinor the twins were always fighting over toys or anything really..."

She looked over at Brandon, who was shirtless. "I'll see if I have something for you to wear home. I don't want you to catch your death of the cold. Maybe my wraps will work? I don't know how far away you live from here." Drusilla moved to the trunk and rummaged through it eventually pulling the Symenestra undergarments from it. "Here," She offered them to the bat, "They're clean and if you're just wrapping your upper torso they should be enough. Umm, sorry about the color.." Drusilla's wraps were a pretty lavender. "They're not the most manly...color. Let me know if you need help putting them on. Just because you lived in Kalinor I can't imagine you did as my people did."

No, his mother had hated her kind. There was no way that Brandon had ever worn them or knew how to wrap them. But the returned to the shirt on the table none the less. If he wanted help he'd ask, or so Drusilla told herself making chalk shapes on the cloth in front of her.

Closed My New Pathetic Life (Bran)