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Post by Nikita Lancashire on Jun 13, 2013 13:55:13 GMT -5
The sun shone clearly in the cloudless blue sky while the wind whispered through the leaves on the branches of the old trees that made up the forest – a perfect day that would make any person smile. Well, maybe any person OTHER than the Banshee girl that stood on a sturdy branch, leaning against the tree trunk of her chosen tree looking at the rays of sunlight that filtered through the canopy to give the forest a magical appearance along with the fact that it was just buzzing with magical energy. Changelings often danced with stolen children in these very woods... but Nikita had never seen such a thing. Not that she would have cared in the slightest. If she had been born a Changeling she might have never met her foster brother... and then once she had gotten bored of the humans who had raised her she would have simply left without a single care.
BUT Nikita was a Banshee... raised by humans... whom she had loved as her own parents. Nikita couldn't remember her birth parents, the memory was so faded now that it was impossible to see the faces. The only parents she remembered with clarity were her foster parents... before they had died. The Banshee shook her head, willing herself not to dwell on that moment in the past... her white blonde curls of hair swaying in the motion as they rested down her back, nestled between her two large white feathery wings. It was the humans that had named her, since she had been so small when they found her that she didn't even know what name she might have been called by her Banshee parents.
Nikita looked back into the depths of the woods again, trying to loose herself into the magic that buzzed with the trees... hoping it would drown out the constant stream of deaths she could sense from near and far. She was so sensitive to it that Nikita had become perceptive to it, almost predictive... not to the fine line where she could look at a person and predict exactly when they would die, but she could sense deaths that were weeks away, and even where those deaths would occur. It was one reason her brother had become successful as a healer, aside from his natural talent for it... but he had a perceptive sister that acted as a guide. Jon had an advantage over death itself.
Jon was tied up with one of his patients, so Nikita had flown away to this forest to try and take a moment of peace for herself. This was the way she liked things... quiet... and left alone. Quietly Nikita sat down on the branch that she had chosen and allowed the forest to lull her into a silent, almost meditative state. Had she allowed it, Nikita might have even fallen asleep. However, Nikita was broken from her lulled state of meditation by a noise below on the forest floor. Quietly she turned her attention towards it and away from the forest itself, searching for what had disturbed her peace.
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Post by Dedrallow Omen on Jun 19, 2013 12:54:39 GMT -5
What exactly was he doing here? Dedrallow’s eyes peered through the forest as those thoughts pushed down on his mind. This was a place that he had once called home, a long time ago. Things were different though, he didn’t hold any special feelings toward this place, and in fact it was quite the opposite. He would rather never return to the place where he was born and spent many years living in ignorance bliss. But, he was a different person then he was, no one would even recognize him anymore. He turned his head and looked at his loyal companion Rouge who was happily trotting next to him, her eyes flickering every which way, this was the place she was born as well, but things were different for her.
“One, two, three, four…” Dedrallow began to count to himself, as he made his way through the forest, counting the different times he passed the same type of plant. It was just something he did. Counting, naming things, whatever it is Dedrallow did it. Rouge, seemingly used to his eccentric behavior, completely ignored this. Dedrallow turned his head once he counted to twenty when he thought he sensed something. He paused and looked around. He didn’t see anything…but he could feel that there was someone here.
“Rouge…” Dedrallow warned his companion, for she was one to go investigate and get her nose into trouble. Rouge turned and looked at him, realizing that he was serious she remained still. However having a short attention span when she spotted a bird picking at the bottom of the forest she quickly rushed toward it, barking loudly. Dedrallow hissed under his breath and quickly went after her. “Rouge, shut up.” He warned her when he reached her. Rouge happily wagged her tail, her tongue sticking out. Now his presence must have been noticed all thanks to Rouge. He looked around, but he still did not see anything.
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Post by Nikita Lancashire on Jun 19, 2013 13:51:05 GMT -5
The white banshee watched the dog curiously as it chased after the bird. She liked animals, her own owl, Luna, was back with Jon's horse, probably sleeping in the rafters of the stable, ready to fly and seek out Nikita if there was trouble or Jon was simply ready to continue on to the next patient that needed his healing techniques. Or Luna would simply join her company if she was board enough to do so and wanted attention. The owl always wanted attention... when she wasn't sleeping ofcourse. Suffice to say, Nikita was better with animals than she was with people. The only person she was good with was Jon... however, he knew how to cope around her by now. Growing up together had certainly aided in that aspect.
As soon as Nikita saw the man her eyes narrowed and her wing feathers rustled in agitation, standing up to flit from her chosen tree to another one as the stranger's gaze shifted, she landed in the new tree lightly, hidden behind the trunk from the man's sight. She shifted hiding places again, flying down from the canopy when his line of sight shifted, allowing her to flying quietly to the forest floor and take cover behind yet another tree. Here Nikita glanced around the trunk, studying the stranger... trying to judge whether he was a potential threat or someone that she could simply ignore. The existence of weapons would play a big part in her judgement.
But her attention was once more drawn to the canine companion, Rogue as he had addressed it. There was something bizarre about the creature. There was something unusual about the man too, Nikita could sense it... but she couldn't quite work out what it was. The fingers of her left hand itched at the hilt of one of her twin daggers, contemplating whether to use the daggers or her sword. If only she had kept her shield with her... but flying with a shield strapped to your back is near impossible.
A flash of white flitted through the trees as a familiar snowy owl flew towards Nikita and the newcomers, landing on the forest floor, searching for any scraps that might interest its taste, hoping along the ground, either failing to notice the dog that seemed to have a penchant for chasing flying creatures, or not caring about them. The one thing about Luna that irritated Nikita, was the fact that the bird was no where near as paranoid of people as her mistress would like. “Luna”, the banshee mouthed, silently begging it to fly away and not give her away.
The snowy owl did quite the opposite.
Luna turned her head towards the less than audible call of its name before hopping along towards Nikita. The banshee groaned, tucking her own snowy white wings underneath her blue cloak to hide them before stepping out into the open and picking the owl up to have it perched on her forearm. Unlike other hunting bird enthusiasts, Nikita didn't wear any gloves to protect the skin of her hands and arms; her reasoning being that she had wings as well, who was going to protect themselves from her if she decided to attack.
The banshee placed her spare hand on the hilt of her longsword, but she kept her wings hidden. The one thing she had learned from being her brothers body guard for so long was that you never revealed all your cards at once. You left some things to the imagination and only revealed the rest when you needed an advantage over your foe. And Nikita certainly didn't fail to notice that for the time being at least, she was standing behind the stranger, nor did she break the silence.
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Post by Dedrallow Omen on Jun 19, 2013 14:20:16 GMT -5
“Rouge, do you like getting yourself in trouble?” Dedrallow sighed as he walked a few steps toward her. He was still hesitant, however, although he couldn’t exactly pin point it, he knew that someone was here. He turned his head to the sides, and yet he didn’t see anyone. He was beginning to wander if it was his imagination. He turned and watched as Rouge shifted into a black raven and flew to his shoulder. Dedrallow reached out and patted the birds head. Being a shifter, she was always shifting into different creatures – but those were her two main ones that she liked to stick too. He sighed as he continued taking a few steps, slowly at first, scanning the area.
He quickly turned around when he heard something. Standing behind him was a woman holding an owl. So that is what he was sensing this whole time. He took a deep breath of relief as he crossed his arms. She seemed hesitant about him…but it wasn’t as if he was sneaking up behind her! If anyone should be on edge it should be him, which he sort of was anyway. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked at her closely. He hadn’t seen her here before (but he was a wanderer, he traveled everywhere so it wasn’t like he ran into the same people twice)
“Young banshee…what do you wish of me?” He asked her in a slow tone. Dedrallow wasn’t dumb (even if people assumed he was) he had been alive for over six hundred years and in that time you can easily pick out the slight differences between each species, so it was not hard for him to narrow down to the fact that the woman was a banshee. Rouge let out a loud cawing down as she jumped down onto the ground and shifted into a black cat and began to sniff around the area. Dedrallow didn’t even look down at her.
“Sneaking up on someone is quite rude, you know,” he said in a rude tone. He was not one to play games and he wasn’t in the best of moods right now (he wanted to get out of this forest and out of this place as quickly as he could) and he didn’t have time to worry about little banshees getting their undergarments tied in a knot sneaking up behind him and causing him trouble. He had much better things he could be doing.
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Post by Nikita Lancashire on Jun 19, 2013 15:44:03 GMT -5
Nikita narrowed her eyes as the stranger addressed her as a young banshee. In her own mind she was older than her years, the fun of her youth but a distant memory due to the need to 'grow up'. She even almost squawked indignantly at being accused of sneaking up on him. She studied him for a while longer, tightening the grip of her sword. She could see for herself now that the man had two daggers and a sword himself, matching her weapons in perfect irony. For a moment she even allowed herself to wonder if their skills were perfectly matched. “I wasn't sneaking...” she shot back in an equally rude tone of voice that he had addressed her with, glaring at him. “I was here first for your information”.
Luna hooted at the raven that was sitting on the man's shoulder. Nikita wondered where the dog had wandered off to before the raven shifted into the form of a sleek black cat. What on earth was that thing? First a dog, then a raven and now it was a cat? Nikita had met Changelings in the past, but never a shape-shifting animal before. Changelings were fairly common, as all species of the Fae were – Sidhe, Changeling or Banshee... none of the Fae kind surprised her anymore. But this shape-shifting creature had her on edge, more so than it's master. Her attention was drawn to it, making a mental note to keep Luna out of it's reach when possible, contemplating sending the owl away completely.
“Why are you here changeling?”
Yes, she knew his species too. Nikita had met enough of his kind in the past to know the subtleties that defined them from the rest of Fae kind. While changelings could manipulate their own physical appearances to look like carbon copies of humans if they so desired, to another fae they were relatively easy to spot. Besides, as a Banshee Nikita could tell who was immortal and who was not, and this man was no mortal. As far as she could tell he was old, very old – as often the case with changelings, looks were often deceiving. His outward appearance did not match what she could sense of him.
Nikita walked further away from the tree line into the open ring that the pair had found themselves in, her feet making no sound as they touched the ground. Years of practice had trained her to step lightly. Sneaking... what had given him that idea? If she had been sneaking up on him, then she would have a blade to his throat by now, not standing in plain sight where he could see her, sizing him up as an opponent if he did turn out to be a threat.
And what was up with that damned cat? What in seven hells was it going to be next... a goat? Nikita found her gaze flickering between the changeling and the shifting beast. The man was no where nearly as unnerving as his... pet? Even with his foul attitude and accusations Nikita was not bothered by him... just irritated that her solace had been invaded by two literally shifty characters. The banshee sent Luna off to perch in the branches of a tree, placing her now free hand on one of her daggers, ready to draw both dagger and sword if the need arose.
When her gaze flickered back to the shape-shifting beast Nikita found herself tied between curiosity and wariness. What on earth was it? She had never seen such a thing before. Before she could bite her tongue to prevent it, she found herself blurting out the words, “What in seven hells is that creature?”
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Post by Dedrallow Omen on Jun 19, 2013 21:44:47 GMT -5
“So because you were here first, you suddenly know own the forest?” Dedrallow said rather harshly as he folded his arms. He was just minding his own business, yes he did sense someone else was here, but he wasn’t actively searching for them (just keeping a close eye out) he didn’t like her smart attitude about the fact that she was there first and that she wasn’t sneaking up at him. Whether it was true or not, he wasn’t buying it. “I am here because this is where I am.” He answered her question with a shrug of his shoulders. He didn’t care that she pointed that he was a changeling; he never tried to hide that from anyone. It was who he was. There was nothing he could do to change that. He shifted his weight, feeling the weight of his sword that he had swung across his back, he didn’t even think about pulling it out though.
“Rouge?” He asked her giving her questing look as he turned his attention to Rouge who (by now shifted back into a dog) was sitting right next to him, looking back and forth between as they spoke. She was an extraordinary creature, there was nothing like her in the whole world, but it was because of a heavy cost and because of that blood on his hands, he would do everything he could to protect her. He turned and looked up to the woman. He thought she had some nerve to act like that then throw questions his way about Rouge.
“She is a shape-shifter like me,” he told her simply because it was the truth, “she is like a changeling, just in animal form.” He said, not saying anything further than that. His tone was still a little edgy, because he was still trying to figure out exactly what she wanted from him. He knew that she was just shocked at Rouge, a lot of people have questioned him about her, but everything about her…it was almost as if she could attack any second. Dedrallow stayed on his guard as he watched her.
“That is all she is,” Dedrallow spoke once again as he glanced at Rouge who seemingly understanding what he was saying nodded her head happily, “now do you have any more questions…or what?” he asked her with a raise brow.
((OOC: and then Rouge shifted into a goat and Dedrallow began to sing "I'm sexy and I know it" Bahaha!!!  ))
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Post by Nikita Lancashire on Jun 20, 2013 9:04:38 GMT -5
“I was merely pointing out that I wasn't sneaking up on you... or anyone....” she shot back to another of his harsh remarks. Did this guy know how to be polite? Or was he simply being rude because he had some ill thought idea of her stalking him? Not that there was any reason for her to be stalking him through the forest... it wasn't as if he was that interesting, regardless of being a stranger. He had no gold or valuables that she wanted – and she wasn't a thief. No, Nikita would happily see this man go on his way and leave her alone.... just the way she wanted it. But at the same time Nikita was not prepared to turn her back on this fellow... he seemed just as dangerous as she could be. Turning your back on a dangerous man was not a good idea.
Her attention was drawn to Rogue once again, once more in the form of a dog, sitting happily at the side of Nikita's assumed foe. Such a loyal creature, this shapeshifter. A changeling, but in creature form? How.... unusual. “Extraordinary....” she muttered beneath her breath, walking forward to get a closer look at the creature. Nikita unhooked her sword from her belt before crouching down, bringing herself to relative eye level with the shifting beast. “I've never seen anything like her...”
Nikita found her wariness being replaced by curiosity. She was still uneasy about the fact that it could change its form like a man could change his clothes. Even a changeling could change their face in the same fashion. A handy ability for a life of immortality. Some would consider such a trick as a luxury, compared to a lifetime with a single face.
The owl, Luna took that moment to swoop down from the tree and make a mockery of her mistress by landing on Nikita's head. “Confound it Luna!” she swore, lifting her hands to remove the bird from her head. “Don't make me regret owning you”. The cocked her head sideways and hooted. “Hoo?”
“You”.
“Hoo?”
“You!” It took a moment for Nikita to realise what was happening. “Merciful gods, I'm arguing with a bird...” Nikita swapped Luna to rest on her shoulder, picking up her sword, narrowing her eyes at Dedrallow once more.
The banshee almost smirked as she read into the gaze that he was regarding her with: he was wary of her, of her readiness to attack. And a raised eyebrow because she had asked questions. It wasn't as if asking questions was likely to get her killed. She stood at five-eight... he looked to be about five-ten... not that much taller than her. Nikita thought that she could hold her own against him... if required.
“Are you scared of me?” she taunted, morbidly curious on how much it would take for the changeling to crack his calm composure. She could use a fight.... keep her skills sharp. “You should be”.
Nikita didn't like changelings all that much. Didn't like any person all that much. But changelings... she thought of them as the world's greatest liars. A lifetime of changing faces made them great liars. That made them troublesome... in Nikita's opinion. One of her hands still itched on the hilt of a dagger. She had sharpened her daggers that morning... she could have shaved the wings from a fly if she had so desired. Nikita looked down at Rogue again. “She's very loyal to you, isn't she?”
The banshee looked back over her shoulder as another sound drew her attention.
“I'm not the worst thing in these woods...” she muttered quietly, her distraction taking her back to her hatred of bandits and sell-swords that would ransack a village without hesitation or second thought. Her own childhood home had been attacked by the likes of them. She didn't care who they were, but if she ever came face to face with a bandit, Nikita would not hesitate in slitting their throat. Even if they weren't responsible for sacking her village, she would still take her justice upon them. When she heard what she thought was the sound of loud male voices and the clash of steel against steel, Nikita was up in the branches of a tree within seconds, her white wings flaring out to lift her weight into the air quickly. There she watched, waiting to see whatever it might be...
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Post by Dedrallow Omen on Jun 20, 2013 11:11:11 GMT -5
Dedrallow still wasn’t sure what to think about this strange woman. He didn’t really buy it when she didn’t say she was sneaking up at him, but he decided to let it go, otherwise it would only cause more trouble. Despite popular belief, Dedrallow didn’t really go to pick out a fight, he would rather just be on his way, and he was too old to be dragged into these unnecessary hissy fits. When he was younger, now that was a different story that is when he was the changeling of the stories. Sneaking into the beds of children’s and snatching them away, why did they do that? Each changeling had their own reasons. Dedrallow turned and looked at Rouge – his reasons was simple enough, but he more important stuff to do then stealing children in the dead of night and switching places with them. He snapped his head out of his own thoughts when she spoke highly of Rouge.
“Nor has anyone else,” Dedrallow said as he turned and looked back down at Rouge, who was happily sniffing at the lady, wanting any attention she could receive. He had been with her for so long; she was much more than a simple ‘pet’ – more than anyone could possibly know. Dedrallow shifted his weight as he ran his fingers through his hair. He chuckled a small laugh when she began to argue with her pet owl, shaking his head, thinking that she couldn’t possibly be all that bad…well maybe. He gave her a curious look though when she mentioned if he was scared of her and that she should be. He thought that was a very odd thing for her to say. Was he wary of her? Yes. But by no means was he scared of her. “I have fought things way before you were born, young banshee,” he reminded her of his age, “I don’t wish to pick fights though…and nor do I wish to do battle with you….but I have had six hundred years’ worth of training.” He told her with a sly smile.
“She is,” Dedrallow said in a softer tone now, “she never leaves my side. I will protect her with my life.” He mentioned. No one could understand how important Rouge was to him; they probably thought he was crazy, which he wasn’t crazy! He would swear up and down to that. She was much more than just his best friend. He snorted when she mentioned there were worse things in this forest, which was true, but he wasn’t worried about any of them. “I was born here,” he told her, “I am not afraid what lies within these woods, I can take care of them no problem,” he told her with a quick nod of his head.
However just as quickly as he thought that, he too sensed and heard something. He straightens up as he looked around. He reached over and grabbed the hilt of his sword. He didn’t like the sense that was overflowing the forest. Whoever was here…was probably up to no good. He had a good sixth sense about if someone was near. “Dedrallow senses someone…or something…” he whispered to himself as he saw that the banshee had flown up into the trees. He did not worry about her though. He was more worried about Rouge – even though she was more than capable of defending herself. He squeezed the hilt of his sword as he waited…wondering who it could be? Then he saw something in the distance.
“They are coming,” he said to himself and to the banshee.
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Post by Nikita Lancashire on Jun 21, 2013 8:22:08 GMT -5
Nikita glanced down at Dedrallow. “They are here...” she corrected quietly before returning her gaze to the enemy, drawing her two daggers – one in each hand. The enemy consisted on four men on horse back, their swords or axes clashing against the meagre defence of their hunted. Two people, young girls, ran on foot trying to outrun the horses... clutching a dagger or sword that was awkward in their grasp; their necks bound in metal collars. “Slaves...” the woman whispered as she watched the two escapee's try to flee. She despised the idea of slavery.
Nikita crouched low on the branches, resting her knuckles against the wood, narrowing her eyes as she plotted which of these slaver traders she would strike. Slavery was forbidden in this kingdom... she would know, she had been born here. There were two kinds of people that Nikita despised without question: bandits or sell-swords and slave traders. Nikita stood up in the tree when she had picked her marks – the two at the back of the group.
Quickly the banshee moved to the right point for her to strike, jumping down between the horses to pull both men out of their saddles to the ground. She rolled away from the pair with her wings flared out behind her. “Winged witch!” one of the men spat at her, earning a dagger to his heart... thrown from Nikita's left hand. Nikita walked dead on towards her second target, murderous intent lighting up her eyes. She hated slaver traders! Her second foe had managed to regain his feet in order to turn and face her, his own sword raised.... he took the first strike, with the banshee ducking the blade, her wings barely missing.
“Stupid man!” she hissed, blocking another of his strikes with her remaining dagger... back-flipping away with a flap of her wings to retrieve her remaining dagger from the dead man's chest. “Picking on little girls!”
In the moment that she had wretched the dagger from the corpse Nikita had been distracted, her attention was drawn back to the slave trader at the sound of a scream.... a girl's scream. The slaver had managed to grab one of the fleeing children and now red stained the her clothing... blood flowing from where the bastard had opened her neck. Shaking, Nikita's mind flashed back to the bloodstained walls of her girlhood home.... flickers of memory flashing in her vision before she went cold... enraged.
A bone chilling wailing scream ripped its way from the banshee's throat – a keen. She keened for the death of the child before flying at the man... her fighting form becoming sloppy so that she was easily thrown aside, rolling as she landed. Looking up she saw a canine face. “Rogue...” Nikita halted herself from reaching out to stroke the animal's head before regaining her feet in time to block another blow from her opponents sword with a dagger, the longer blade glancing off the short steel. The next blow knocked her to the ground once more, her daggers crossed to trap a downward stroke. At this angle Nikita actually struggled to regain what ground she had lost... barely keeping the point of the blade above her face. She was immortal, but a sword to her pretty face would not be a good start to the day.
And her sword? Was up in that bloody tree!
“Seven hells!”
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Post by Dedrallow Omen on Jun 21, 2013 9:16:20 GMT -5
Dedrallow turned and spotted the four men on horses and the two slave girls running for their lives. No sympathy flashed before him and he made no movement when he spotted the girls. However the banshee seemed royally ticked off at the sight, but he couldn’t really comprehend why. Was it because for some reason slavery was banned from this land? Other than that Dedrallow couldn’t think of any other reason, after all slavery was part of human nature, since the dawn of he days there has always been slaves – what was so wrong with that? He watched as she began to attack the men, he just stood back and watched. Secretly if the men had asked him his help in fetching the girls, he would have followed along with it. He watched as she fought merciless, he could say he was impressed with her strength; this was apparently something very important to her.
He could tell soon that she was attacking because she despised slavery, when she yelled at the men in behalf of the escaped girls. He tilted his head to the side, he never seen someone this outright against slavery, must were neutral on the whole thing. However, he still stood there in silence as he watched her fight her hardest. He then turned his head when he heard the scream of the child scream. He saw blood everywhere as she fell down in cold blood. Everyone died. It released them from their lives. Instead of feeling pity for the creature – Dedrallow felt a sense of jealousy – that is something that he was denied when he was born a changeling. Suddenly the banshee let out a blood curling shriek for the death of the girl. Dedrallow was used to banshee’s hollers so it didn’t bother him much. What did piss him off was the fact that suddenly she lost concentration and was getting beat up pretty badly.
Rouge made her way over the fallen banshee, glaring at the men and began to growl at them. Dedrallow took a few steps forward. “I lost some respect for you,” he said as he narrowed his eyes, “why are you letting a death bring you down? Because some girl died! You can’t let that get in your way…otherwise you’ll be shaming yourself.” Dedrallow groaned as he rolled his eyes at her. He reached behind and pulled out his sword out of its sheath and stepped out in front of her. If she was not going to battle, then he would show her how it’s done. They jumped forward, but he was quicker than them. They were messily humans, while Dedrallow was a powerful changeling, they stood no chance. Dedrallow used his sword to knock one of them out, before lowering it and piercing his heart with it. He turned back to look at the banshee.
“Are you just going to stand there? Or are you going to fight?” He asked her as he slammed his knife on another. He didn’t like to fight and he didn’t know why he felt so compelled to help the banshee, but now that he was part of it, might as well finish it until the deed was done. Dedrallow wasn’t afraid of fights, even if he wasn’t one to just jump in like this. He was sort of pissed off at her for backing down at a time like this. If she really cared for that young girl, then she should be fighting twice as hard. He watched as Rouge shifted into a huge wolf, fangs bearing, as she growled loudly. If she wasn’t going to do anything then he supposed that this was all up to him. He would keep fighting, nothing would bring him down.
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Post by Nikita Lancashire on Jun 21, 2013 11:29:06 GMT -5
The banshee hissed at the changeling as he started criticizing her for the fact that her opponents had gotten the upper hand. It wasn't exactly like he had stepped out of his own way to assist her.... she had been aware of him having dropped his own guard when the slave traders arrived. So he didn't care that these men were making money off the lives of people? Fine. True that slavery was a “fact of life”, but these were not just children or girls... or slaves... that she was defending and fighting to save, but people. PEOPLE! The reason why Nikita hated slavery and sell-swords was the fact that they traded in the lives of people... for what? Coins. They profited on stomping all over the lives of people, without a care in the world. To people like that it didn't matter if they were selling them into slavery or killing them... as long as coins found a way into their pockets.
“Does it look like I'm bloody standing?!” she shot back at the changeling sarcastically before finally pushing the sword at her face to the side so it slammed into the dirt rather than her face. When the trader adjusted his stance for another strike she rolled backwards onto her hands, finishing with another back flip so that she was standing on her own two feet once more. From the command a whistle, the owl soared into the tree and retrieved the sword that was still strung up in its branches, dropping it above Nikita's head. The banshee sheathed her daggers half a second before catching the longsword by the hilt, unsheathing it and meeting the slave trader head on.
Blow for blow, swords clashed as she pushed him back step by step until the tree trunks behind his back were too close together for him to move any further. It was the moment Nikita had waited for, knocking the sword out of his hand and swung her sword with slicing stroke level with his neck. She turned her back to him before glancing over her shoulder... watching as his head rolled from his shoulders before the rest of the body fell to the ground.
Breathing heavily Nikita searched for the second girl that the traders had been chasing. One was already dead... was one still alive? Nikita found her soon enough... not far away with an axe lodged in her back. Closing her eyes Nikita threw her sword down in rage and defeat.... two children had been killed, and for what? Because they ran away from a potential lifetime of slavery? Nikita would have run away from a life like that. No way would she allowed someone to profit from her life and her misery. Nikita pitied the girls. They had a slim chance of freedom from the start.... it was either back to the slave yards, or death. At least there were no masters in the grave.
The banshee rounded on the changeling with an angry glare. “Some girl?!” she hissed. “She was but a child! Both of them were just children. Their lives owned by someone other than themselves. Do you think I care what respect I held in your mind?! You roll your eyes at me because I keen for them. I am a Banshee! Banshee's keen for the dead.... I can sense death, and even deaths that are yet to pass. It is my nature.... and those men profit off the lives of others, they didn't care who or why.... just for the gold coins. Same with sell-swords and bandits.... none of them care...”
Nikita had to stop her rant to calm herself for a moment, walking away to collect her sword and fasten it to her belt again. An old man had once told her that “all men must die”.... but Nikita felt that all people should be able to choose how they live before they die. She looked between the two slave girls. “They didn't deserve this... any of this. They would have had names...” she muttered, mostly to herself. If she had left herself, she would have even cried for them. But Nikita doesn't cry! Not any more. Nikita didn't like adults... but she had a soft heart for children and animals. Innocence, really..... that was what Nikita was jealous of, because she had lost her innocence long ago.
Nikita turned to look at Rogue, crouching down to look at the shapeshifter that was now a wolf. “Thankyou Rogue...” she said softly, holding out a hand for the beast if it wanted a stroke (or attention of some form). “You're a brave one. Thankyou for growling when you did...” She liked Rogue.... much more than her master. While criticizing her while a sword was to her face was one way to spur her one to win her own battle, it would have been easier to simply push the attacker aside. “It's probably a good thing there aren't many like you Rogue... then you wouldn't be so special...”
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Post by Dedrallow Omen on Jun 21, 2013 13:49:18 GMT -5
Dedrallow ignored her as he continued to fight. Sure, that might have been an asshole move, but he knew that she could do it on her own. If you started leaning on other people for help, then what would happen when you were left all alone? What would she do if he had not been here? The same thing she just did. Whether not she wanted to think of that way, it was necessary to count on yourself first and furthermost. He honestly believed he did the right thing. He continued to fight, as he took down another man. It was all about number one. No matter how many so called ‘friends’ you had in this world, you were by yourself. There was no one you could truly count for, but yourself. It seemed that this young banshee had a lot to learn and it was best she learned this lesson sooner rather than later.
“Yes, just some girl,” Dedrallow placed his weapon back in his sheath as he made his way over to her, as she knelt by Rouge “many more children will die today, some babes that barley got a breath of air. IT IS LIFE! You are a young, you have not seen death as much as I have. Some die at an old age, some die when they are young, and some never get the privilege to death.” He yelled at her, not necessarily in an angry or mean tone. He just didn’t understand her. It wasn’t even someone that she knew, he would understand if he had known those girls. He knew that she was a banshee and that all banshees felt sorrow toward the death and he understood that much, but the way she acted, it was far more than just because of who she was. Dedrallow remained silent when she went on that they didn’t deserve this and that they would have had names. He turned and looked toward the still bodies. He still felt as if death was better than any life they would have known.
Rouge wagged her tail happily and reached up and licked the banshee’s face happily. Rouge liked her very much and Rouge although stood by Dedrallow’s side, she couldn’t understand why the two of them just couldn’t get along. Dedrallow watched as she praised Rouge with her specialness and she was glad that there wasn’t more like her. That was the truth. Rouge really was a special creature…an image flashed through his mind of a small girl smiling happily, laughing eyes and long dark hair. He shook his head and took a few steps back. He looked away and turned and looked back at the death girls. He stood there and stared at them for a long time, many thoughts ran in his mind, and he zoned out what seemed like forever, but it was only probably for a couple of minutes. He then turned and looked back over to her.
“At least they are in a better place now,” he told her in a much smoother tone now, “they don’t have to suffer anymore….you can at last be thankful for that right?” He tried to find the right words to say. For some reason he sort of understood her point of view. But, at least he didn’t want her to hate him or anything like that. There must be something else they could do. He turned and looked at her. “At least if you want…you could give them a proper burial…if that would help any…” he waited for several seconds for her response before he took a few steps back. It would be easy enough. The ground was soft and would be easy to dig through and Rouge would be there to help her drag the bodies into the holes. This is all that he could do for her.
“Take your time,” he told her and gave her a small smile before he went behind a tree and took all his clothes off and shifted into a large shovel. Rouge (who had followed him) dragged the shovel over to the banshee and barked at her, wanting her to have a better opinion of her friend. She barked again happily as she walked over to the perfect spot to have a small burial for the girls whose lives were snuffed out.
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Post by Nikita Lancashire on Jun 22, 2013 9:30:21 GMT -5
The banshee hissed at the changeling again, drawing a dagger... contemplating whether to stab him in the throat or not, simply just to shut him up. She knew that an immortal couldn't die – she was on herself... he was lecturing someone that knew as well as he did about the rules of Life and Death. “Shut up!” Nikita finally snapped, glaring at him. “I know perfectly well, as you do. But I was not much older than those girls when my parents were slaughtered by men like those ones. All men must die... but they should be able to choose how to live first!”
Nikita backed away from Rogue and her master, the hand around her dagger curling tighter until her knuckles turned white, turned around she hurled the dagger at a tree instead of this stranger. She liked the shifting animal, Rogue, but this man was an annoyance.... on one hand she wanted to kill him (ignoring the immortality factor), but on the other she didn't want to make Rogue suffer as she had. But there was no way Nikita would consider anyone her friend... friends were a distraction. Friends made you mourn when they died, and made Banshee's keen for them. Nikita would not keen for friends any more.
Practically ignoring Dedrallow, Nikita walked to the dead slave girls, removing the axe from the back of one and then set about removing the collars from their necks, throwing the metal loops aside. She even closed their eyes before standing up to walk away. She was going to leave this place completely, she had a brother to protect, and death to keep away from knocking on his own door.
Jon was mortal... Nikita was immortal, and she was the only thing standing between him and death for now. That was her choice.... her task.... her life. Nikita couldn't die, but she'd give a fighting effort for the chance for her brother to grow old and die in a peaceful way of his own choosing. Surely it would leave her alone in the world afterwards.... Jon would be gone, Luna would be gone... Nikita would be the last of their family.
“At least they are in a better place now.... they don’t have to suffer anymore….you can at last be thankful for that right?”
Nikita halted in her departure, and sighed. “I once found a slave... his body beaten and his spirit broken... chained to a post and left to die. He had tied to escape his masters... so they had left him as a warning to other slaves. When I found him I tried to free him and give him water. Do you know what he said to me?” Nikita turned to look at Dedrallow before her her gaze fell on Rogue. “He said 'let me die'. There are no masters in the grave....”
“At least if you want…you could give them a proper burial…if that would help any…”
“It's better than leaving them to rot...” she responded simply, removing her weapons. When she noticed that one of her daggers was missing she remembered that had thrown it at a tree, where it was still lodged in the trunk. Retrieving it she placed it back in the sheath and placed it with the others. When Rogue brought her a shovel Nikita nodded silently, not thinking that the object was the creature's master. Nikita watched the animal bark at her, leading her to a good spot where the earth was soft enough to give the girls a burial.
Nikita picked up the shovel and began to dig, and before long she struck roots. Tree roots... spreading out from an old tree. Nikita traced the roots and dug around them... a plan forming in her mind. When two holes were deep enough Nikita studied her work; in some symbolic sense the girls would be protected by the embrace of the tree roots. The banshee stepped down into each hole and took each girl into her arms before resting them gently in the bottom of the graves, nestled amongst the roots. After climbing out Nikita pushed the dirt back into the holes.
Then she actually did walk away... she picked up her weapons and walked further into the woods away from the dead slave traders and the graves on the slave girls. She didn't want to stay around the dead bodies any longer than she had to be, but she was still in sight when she dropped her weapons again and sat down with her back against a tree. She didn't want to be reminded of her past anymore... didn't want to think about death or the evils of humanity. Nikita didn't even want to be reminded of immortality.
Luna flew down to look at Rogue, twisting her head this way and that before hooting quietly. Then hopped a couple of times before taking wing to fly over to Nikita where the banshee girl was sitting on the ground. Hooting again Luna landed and hopped onto Nikita's knee, rather than her head this time. Nikita stroked the birds feathers lightly before finally relaxing once more. The banshee didn't like fighting all that much, but she had to.... she needed to. But she needed to relax more.
Fishing into a pocket Nikita extracted a scrap of preserved meat... it was smoked, like jerky. She ripped off a piece for Luna to occupy herself with before whistling to Rogue, showing a piece of jerky in her hand, a silent question of whether the hound wanted some or not. Nikita definitely liked Rogue, Rogue was friendly... Dedrallow left a lot to be desired, but granted, the burial had been a good idea. She'd give him that much credit.
He was still an ass though.
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Post by Dedrallow Omen on Jun 29, 2013 6:57:44 GMT -5
Rouge watched Nikita work silently. She understood everything that was going around her. She wished that Nikita would think better of Dedrallow, but she knew how he could be. When she had finished she watched as Nikita walked away. Rouge turned and looked at Luna and tilted her head to the side, what would it be like a simple animal, like a bird in the sky or a fish in the sea? Would that be a better life? Than to know the feelings of others and the memories that haunt from the past? Rouge twisted her head when she smelt jerky and quickly made her way over to Nikita happily and gobbled up the peace of jerky. She licked her hand lovingly and wagged her tail. She liked Nikita, she was nice. Rouge turned and looked at the shovel, she could feel his presence. She barked at Nikita before she grabbed the shovel in her fangs and dragged it back to the tree, so that Dedrallow could change back and put back on his clothes. He bent down and petted her head lovingly, if only Nikita knew what she knew, and then she wouldn’t hate him so much.
Dedrallow thanked Rouge before he made his way over to where the banshee was sitting. He stood there silently for several moments. Some intense moments had happened since their first encounter. He wasn’t quite sure what to say. He turned and looked back at the grave that she had tenderly made for the girls that where no longer part of this world. Was that so heavy on her heart? Yes, she was a banshee, all death affected them…but this was something more…Dedrallow could sense that much, but he couldn’t exactly pin point it. Whatever it was, slaves must weight heavy on her heart, for her to care this much (even though the grave idea was his). He turned back and looked at her. “You did a good job,” he said, “at least now they can rest in peace….” He mumbled, not wanting to say the wrong things, and starting another stupid fight. He was too drained.
He turned and looked at Rouge, who nudged his hand. He knew that she wanted him to say more. She had grown attached to Nikita, and she often stayed by his side, she wasn’t one to get close to others that easily. He shifted his weight. He wasn’t a sentimental guy, so he wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to say in order to comfort this distraught and down casted banshee. He knew he had to say something; after all she probably hated him. He didn’t hate her….and plus Rouge liked her. He turned and watched her, what seemed like an eternity. Until he finally spoke, “I’m sorry….” He spoke those words in a soft voice, he wasn’t one to admit that he was wrong, he was very stubborn, “I’m sorry…I really am sorry…” He wasn’t exactly sure what to say to her, what could he say to comfort her? He couldn’t think of anything…this was the best that he could do. He really didn’t have a good way with words, even more so when he was trying to comfort someone.
“I shouldn’t have acted like that….so I’m sorry…” with that he remained silent and turned away from her, feeling as if there was nothing more he could say. He turned and looked at Rouge who nodded her head approvingly.
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Post by Nikita Lancashire on Jun 29, 2013 12:08:14 GMT -5
Nikita ruffled Rogue across the ears when the hound accepted the jerky before the beast ran off the return the shovel to wherever she had found it. How had a dog found a shovel in a forest in the first place? She wasn't able to think on it too much when Dedrallow appeared again. She ignored him while he stood there staring at her, tearing off pieces of jerky for herself and Luna. It wasn't much, but Nikita hadn't eaten anything that day... she needed the sustenance that it provided. Besides, jerky had the added benefit that it wouldn't go off so easily while she traveled... she always had a few pieces in her pocket when she needed a quick fix. And a few extra pieces for Luna or other critters she came across.
Then there it was... “I'm sorry”.
Nikita lifted her eyes, looking up at him through her lashes. Her hair was falling about her face in tangles with bits of leaves and bark stuck within the curls... but she didn't care. She'd had worse... much worse. Even Luna watched the changeling as he stumbled through his apologies, but at the end of all the owl was no more enlightened than Nikita was at what Dedrallow was apologising for. Nikita glanced at Rogue, hoping the shape-shifter might give her some sort of clue. Though, she did notice that the dog was approving of what apology had been giving. Perhaps this changeling had never had to be sorry for anything before? Nikita thought that might be the case.
“And what are you sorry for?” she questioned at his back when he turned around. The banshee stood up. “Are you sorry that I failed to save those girls? Or perhaps that they died? Or maybe because as slaves those girls didn't own their lives... rather that someone else owned them?”
Nikita knew very well that she was hitting this stranger with many moral questions... but she didn't care. Sometimes these questions had to be asked. “Do even care that people profit from buying and selling the lives of people? Or are you heartless?”
Nikita looked at Rogue for a long moment before sighing. “With a friend such as Rogue, I wouldn't have picked you for being completely heartless. If you protect her with your life...” she commented off hand. “The same way I would protect Luna.... or my brother....”
Nikita's gaze softened for a moment before she remembered where she was and her eyes hardened again, before she realised she had mentioned her brother. “That's nothing you need to know”.
The banshee picked up her belt with her daggers and fastened it around her waist. “And to to think, I had been contemplating whether you were a threat or not”, she left the statement at that, Nikita didn't know if she had been proven right or wrong about this changeling. She had been wrong about Rogue, very wrong.
“I shouldn’t have acted like that”.
Nikita narrowed her eyes as she looked at Dedrallow. “What kind person stands there and watches while someone has a sword pointed at their face?” she shot at him, shaking her head in wonder at why he had even done it in the first place. “I won't degrade myself by playing the 'I'm a girl' card, but the fact remains.... what kind of person? Oh that's right. AN ASSHOLE!”
Yes, she had shouted at him. She had insulted him... flat out insulted him. But Nikita didn't care... she didn't care about anyone other than her brother, she didn't even care about herself anymore. While Dedrallow considered “number 1” to be himself, for Nikita it was her brother. No one else, not even her. Besides, what was he going to do if he took offence.... kill her?
She sat back down again with a huff, gnawing on a piece of jerky while she fished around in another pocket on the inside of her cloak, withdrawing a tough skin flask that should have been used for water, but instead it held a strong variety of alcohol instead, from which Nikita drank heavily. Yep, Nikita was an alcoholic. No one could really work out if her anger was a result of her alcoholism, or if she was an alcoholic because of her tormented life which had inevitably created anger. Maybe it was both. Either way, Nikita drank most of the time, and was still in fighting form (most of the time). But there had been times when she was drunk before a fight... that day had been interesting.
The banshee looked away from the changeling as she let the alcohol flow into her system, allowing it to dull her mind and surroundings somewhat. It even blocked off some of the death screams that were ringing in her brain. Damn this death sense! She didn't want to argue with Dedrallow... almost didn't even want to be around him if it wasn't for Rogue. She couldn't be bothered anymore. The changeling wasn't leaving... what did he want? He had no reason to be still standing there.... unless, Rogue?
“How'd you come across her anyhow?” she asked. “Rogue, I mean. It's not like you can walk into a market and just buy a shape-shifting dog”.
Nikita offered another piece of jerky to Rogue, well she wasn't about to offer it to Dedrallow any time soon.
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