RP:Breathing Air Into the Flames

From HollowWiki

Part of the An Ascending Dryad Arc




Grassy Knoll

Dyzz is at the Grassy Knoll, where she expected to see Madigan. She is looking about for her, shielding her eyes from the sun. Hopefully some clouds will cover that up soon. A bonsai tree and her axe are strapped to warpiggy, which she rides on.


Grondo sat next to Dyzz. He didn't know why she had to drag him over here, but he was still excited.


Madigan had not expected to find Dyzz here but she wasn't surprised either to cross paths with her. She smiles at the little blue as she approaches and pokes the pig's belly with her bare foot in an affectionate hello. She looks over to the goblin sat beside Dyzz. The dryad points to him and looks at Dyzz questioningly. Who's that? her body gestures.


Dyzz blinks at the goblin, then back at Madi. "Is muju tribe now. Is Dyzz response ability, Dyzz'll takes care of him." She clambered down from warpiggy, and fell on her rump. She got back up, and took the bonsai tree out of its strap, planted in a rough looking left shoe. She brought it, and set it on the ground. "There, now you's gots some sun, you noisy bastard." She looked like she wanted to kick the miniscule, well tended tree, but she didn't. The ent shrugged. "Could be better sun, you blue devil." Dyzz grinded her teeth, and some audibly broke. They'd just reform, though, soul shattering as the sound was. Anyway. "Madi! Dyzz is looked all over for you. Spirits is tellin me you comin this way. How's you?"


Grondo smiled and clapped. His metal arm gashing the other. But he was numb from all his bashing he had taken earlier. "Spirits Madi? Huh?" He just slumped back and scratched his head, "I'm confused.."


Madigan scrunches her eyebrows together in confusion. She looks over to the goblin and nods in agreement. She didn't have any visions of this meeting. "Why was I coming to you?" She wonders if Dyzz's words have anything to do with her upcoming journey to Craughmoyle. The fire ward, still neatly folded and safely placed in her bag, comes to mind for a brief moment, but only the memory of it and nothing more. She internally grins, ecstatic at the thought of that tattoo. Another thought comes to her, "Do you have gold flecks?" she adds after her first question, the two unrelated as far as Madigan is concerned. Dyzz is likely to have gold powder in her possession. It'd be good for Madigan to get some for when she meets a tattooist. Expectant eyes watch the little blue, her first question already forgotten.


Dyzz blinks. "Dyzz been playing in the mines, and miners gives her stuffs like that to chew on. Dyzz can, ya know, makes little pieces from the yellow rocks." She pulls out the chunks of gold she had acquired from a magical pouch, and starts setting them on the ground.


Grondo stares patiently at the unfolding events.


Merrien walks across the plains, well outside of the small town that she just departed. She stops short when she sees the gathering group and wonders what such a large group of people are doing standing about the plains. She decides to mosey around the outskirts of the group. Maybe it's a party. How wonderful!


Dyzz sees Merrien approach out of the corner of her eye, but her focus is on Madi right now.


Madigan stares at the gold chunks and waits for Dyzz's next move. When nothing happens, Madigan looks up at the little blue and says, "Flecks are tiny pieces. Like powder. Do you have gold powder?" She had never before thought Dyzz to be dense, but she suddenly finds herself wondering...


Grondo saw the newcomer and stood up. "Who's dat?" He shouted as he ran towards her like a guerilla.


Dyzz looks up, and blinks. "Oh, yeah, Dyzz can do that!" She takes one of the chunks, and pops it into her mouth, chewing. Her teeth mostly lose the battle, but she starts drooling little flecks, and catches them in her hand. "Wik dis?" She holds out the drool to Madi. Sure enough, there are flecks of gold in it.


Dyzz briefly notices Grondo out of the corner of her eye and yells, "Sit don o widle bashturd!"


Grondo sat down immediately. "yeash chief," he grumbled as he looked at the ground. He started moping. "But I wanna hack down da fingy in da distance!!"


Merrien's eyes widen as the goblin makes a run before he is called off by a smaller looking woman. Merrien feels rather odd about this motley assortment of characters and her curiosity prevents her from taking her leave just yet. What were they all doing here? An open field seems a rather odd place to do anything but have a pic-nic. Maybe that's what was going on, a lovely day in the plains for friends...but no one had a basket either...hmm..most perplexing.


Madigan watched the goblin stand up and charge at someone in the distance. As soon as he sat still at his chief's command, Madigan returned her attention to the little blue. Suddenly, she's gritting her teeth and cringing at the imagined pain Dyzz is putting herself through. "Don't hurt yourself! I can find them somewhere else."


Dyzz looks up. "It don't hurt none!" By now, the gold was mostly grinded down. She spit it out, taking out a cloth to lay it on to let the drool dry in the sun. "Whadja needs these for anywho?" She looks on at Madigan curiously.


Madigan, with a quick glance over her shoulder at the newcomer, looks into her bag for the folded piece of paper. "A fire ward," she says as she unfolds the paper and holds it up for Dyzz to see but out of reach so the little blue doesn't grab at it. She likes her friend dearly, but Dyzz is very much like a baby to Madigan, and for that reason alone, Madigan wouldn't want Dyzz to touch the paper. She absolutely needs it to stay as intact as it is else she might explode when it's tattooed onto her like the Queen had warned.


Dyzz looked at the drawing, curiously. "Is a nice ward. All arcane and such. Not stuff Dyzz knows good. Dyzz's fire wards is simpler, but they works best! Anyway, whatcha gon do wid it? Can Dyzz draw it down to look at laters?"


Grondo idly waits for orders...


Madigan tells her, "I need it tattooed onto me, that way I know the fire ward will last as long as I do and will still work in my other forms. I need it soon. Do you know any tattoo artists? I need a really skilled one, though. If a single line is just out of place, I could get killed upon its activation." Madigan frowns at the idea - it's the only downside to this fire ward, but it's the worst possible downside of anything.


Merrien tilts her head to the side and wonders what exactly a fire ward is. It certainly does not sound like any pic-nic food that she'd ever heard of, that's for sure. Everyone knows you can't eat gold. Well, then again, the people in this lad -are- rather strange. Maybe she should try to eat one of her gold pieces. Merrien subtly reaches into her pocket and tries with stealth to bite down on the gold piece as she had seen Dyzz doing. This attempt is met with not a modicum of success as now her teeth hurt and there is a nasty taste in her mouth. Most curious creatures these are...


Dyzz stares at her. For a long time. Then, she bursts out laughing. She clenches her sides, rolling with laughter. "Dyzz... Dyzz is makes good tattoos! Dyzz is has none cuz her skin just eats em, but she do em for tribe when gobbies wanna remember war victories. Dyzz can do it." She pulls out a poisoned needle that she kept hidden, a hollow one. She licked the end off, and blew the rest of the poison out one end, licking it off and repeating to get it clean. She then cast a weird incantation, and pricked herself with the needle. The needle filled with her blood. "Ah! So that's what the flecks is for, huh?" She then dabbed the needle on the cloth of golden flecks, using her minor blood magic to draw the flecks throughout her blood. "Dyzz is changed her blood, so's it can be ink. Dyzz can make the ward, she can do it perfect. Dyzz is done tattoos, carved woods and stones, and can copy anyfing." She nodded, quite sure of her skill. "Well, if you wants Dyzz to does it, Dyzz will."


Grondo stared in awe as the shaman of his new-found tribe did things he never even heard of in fairytales. He walked up to Dyzz. "Wowz youz good chief! Can you teach me??"


Dyzz doesn't even look as she punches Grondo, like the Hulk punching Thor. Only there was a hill right there. Where he could fall down. A lot.


Grondo tumbled down the hill wailing for a few minutes before he finally clambered to the top. "Waz dat for chief?" He fell to his rump and started to chew on a bronze bolt as he worked on a new brain for the shredder, the last brain had cost him an arm.


Without a word, Madigan lays the paper onto the ground and places rocks on each of its corners to hold it to the ground in case a wind blows by. She removes her bag from across her chest and strips off her corset and skirt, revealing a completely naked form. As the goblin gets clocked in the face and starts to roll downhill, the dryad stuffs the clothes into her bag and kneels in front of Dyzz with her back turned to her. She pays little mind to the goblin, though. Madigan silently indicates the entire area that is part of her back and side of torso, her fingers trailing down to her butt cheek. The idea is that the phoenix motif will cover the right half of her back and all the skin of her torso beneath her right arm. "I'm trusting you, Dyzz..." Madigan says somberly, an unusual tone for the dryad to speak with. "You gotta press hard to make sure you're not only marking my skin but carving into my bark, okay?" She bites her lip, fear and anticipation bubbling up in her stomach. If she had bile, she'd throw up right now.


Dyzz looks down, brushing her fingers over Madigan's back, her butt, her arm. Feeling her bones, her bark, her skin. Everything. Pressing lightly here and there, making fast and accurate judgments. As unpredictable and foolish as the troblin was, she was a master artisan, and upon seeing her work, there was no denying it. Her eyes nigh bulged, as she took in minor details most artists would never notice. She looked over the tattoo, an image forming in her mind of what Madigan wanted, of the proportions inherent in adapting the flat piece to her body, and the necessary adaptations to preserve its mystical significance... to keep it from being altered from paper to skin. The needle traced skin, where fingers had, then, it poked. And again. And again. First slowly, tentatively, making sure that the ink entered properly, that it got deep enough. She manipulated the blood in the needle by way of the minor blood magic, and soon, was going at a pace that could not be kept up with by human eyes. She poked again, and again, with the unnatural speed and precision with which she did hair. Her features changed, her body seeming to shrivel somewhat, her bones setting into place where they were, and muscles adapting. Her body gave more blood to her brain, focusing her entire being on performing this singular task. To absolute perfection. The needle hummed as quickly as it went, stopping now and then to draw more blood from Dyzz, and to be infused with golden flecks. She did not blink often, and she did not look away. The tattoo was already there, in her mind. She just traced it without any margin for error.


Grondo would stare in awe, but if he did he knew that after Dyzz was done he would be kicked in the face...or worse. So he too worked on something, it seemed like a pile of scrap at first but as he worked on it it looked like a metal brain. He stopped after a while and attached the metal hand to a small steam-punk generator of which he used to zap it. The brain buzzed to life in a series of ticks and buzzes. Yep, he was oblivious to everything else, he didn't even breath.


Madigan had her eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of pain as Dyzz poked her flesh with her fingers, inspecting what she needed. The needle pricked painfully the first few times, but as Dyzz's blood bled into her skin and permanently marked itself upon the dryad's flesh, it worked into the area and nullified the pain. Her eyes open wide, jungle green orbs staring at the ground in disbelief. She wondered what all else Dyzz's blood was going to do to her if it cancelled out any pain. Madigan considers testing her ability to feel pain in other parts of her body to see if it's a full-body change, and for a moment, she wonders if it's only temporary, but she decides to remain unmoving for the time being as Dyzz works with concentration at the phoenix motif. To an outsider, Madigan is frozen in time, immovable in space, but she is neither. Oak trees are very still in nature, save for the ruffling of their leaves in the wind and the smaller branches that decorate the edges of the tree's crown. At over a hundred years of age, Madigan is well-versed in the art of stillness.


Dyzz worked diligently, and with supernatural speed, but even still the sheer intricacy of the ward demanded time and attention. It would take several hours to copy it down in perfection. She copied her ritual of filling the needle, and did not speak, did not break her eyes away for anything, visibly wilting away as she worked, looking gaunt and hollow as she expended massive quantities of energy keeping up this pace and such. Over the course of the hours, that is. A few hours later... she would finally stop tapping her needle against skin, her hand still trembling slightly, now 'built' for the task it had finally accomplished. She simply stared at it, then took out some herbs and a poultice, shaky and weak, but still focused, and began cleaning, disinfecting, and pressing her back. It would heal marvelously well. The blood would do wonders for the magic of the ward, as a catalyst for the energies it harnessed. It would also preserve the piece well, letting it heal back in place should it become damaged, or scarred... by virtue of her blood adapting to Madigan's own body and staying alive, in her skin. The tattoo, it was literally alive.


Madigan lifts her head after a short while of the absence of Dyzz's touch. Her eyes focus on the woman still in the distance. How much time had passed? Madigan turns toward Dyzz, shocked at how emaciated Dyzz looks. She wraps her arms around her friend, worried for her. She looks out to the stranger again, wondering how long she'd been there. Was she going to approach them? The dryad is sure the stranger means them no harm, otherwise she would've attacked already. It was a brief thought, though, as her attention returns to Dyzz, stroking the little blue affectionately.


Dyzz needs to eat! So, Dyzz uses a backup, shakily opening a pouch of hers that contains... something that was alive when she put it in there. Oh well. She upends it next to them, spilling out a majestic moose. Or, a once majestic moose. Then, she did the nasty, and the moose's body was no more. Yea, those pouches were handy. She was glad she appropriated them. Upon eating, her body swelled back to its normal form, and her butt and boobs grew a little. She'd need to workout, now.


Madigan was starting to sing a healing spell that would help Dyzz regain a lot of her form back but gets cut off as Dyzz reaches for her bag and reveals a dead moose from within. The dryad raises an eyebrow at the sight of Dyzz devouring an entire moose. Wow.


Grondo gasped, ran up to Dyzz, and started worshipping her. "All hail da chief!" he repeated. And he DID expect a kick so he already put on his tightly knit chainmail.


Dyzz walked over to Grondo, pushed him down, and sat on him. "Dyzz just need to rest for a wee bit, and she be all good! Dyzz makes it just like on the sheet. Dyzz ain't got a mirror or nuttin to helps you look at it, though." The bonsai ent turned, twisting it's trunk, to peek at the dryad's tattoo. "I've seen better." He then turns back to the sun. What a butthole.


Shien has been lingering in the area for quite a while, allowing his wounds to heal. He lies against a tree eating biscuits and killing time. His garb disguised him as a vagrant, as did his filth. From a ways away, he heard singing. Perplexed, he stood and started hobbling over. His hobble completed the ruse, though it was unintentional. His belly wound was asymmetrical and gave him an uneven gait, and he cradled the stitches so as not to tear them. Over his shoulder he carried a sack of what appeared to be everything he owned over his hunched back. "Anything to spare for the less fortunate?" Shien moves with a sturdy stick in hand to use as a cane.


Madigan glances at the bonsai ent, finding it a curious little thing. She crawls toward it and stares at it for a while, green eyes concentrated and perplexed by the tiny tree's existence. It looks like a fully grown... miniature tree...? Lifting her arm and turning her head, she inspects the tattoo herself, the skin surrounding it swollen and red from the needle biting into it. Maybe she hadn't felt any pain, but her skin was still affected greatly by the needlework. The tattoo seems to quietly hum at her. She's tempted to poke it. Instead, she drops her right arm and pinches her left arm to test the pain theory. Better to distract herself from the desire to smudge the work by poking it. She really didn't want to explode... Ouch. Yeah, she still feels pain. A voice calls out to the bunch of them and she looks up at the vagabond.


Grondo notices that Dyzz sat of the extender button so the chainmail retracted...and he felt the full force of the troblin's backside! A few cracks could be heard as his ribs gave way. As zealous as he was though he grabbed a metal bolt and flung it at the ent, it wouldn't snap him, it would just hit the boot and tip the jerk over. "ok......chief........can...." deep breath, ".....you.....get...off..." A few more snaps and he passed out. The wonders of air-deprivation.


Dyzz watched the boot fall over, and the ent go ballistic. He started yelling, and cursing, and Dyzz farted, then stood up to go sit somewhere more comfy. And there... there was Shien! She ran up to him, and smiled. "Heya Shien! Hey, haven't you healed up yet? Does you needs some medicines?"


Grondo crawled away slowly, hoping Dyzz wouldn't come back. "whyyyyy whyyyy!!" he thought as he crawled away in an attempt to keep the rest of his rib-cage in one piece.


The tree ent looks up at the Dryad. "You! Brainless child of a misbegotten forest, stand me this instant! I've need of the warm sun on my leaves!"


Merrien exits west.


Madigan stares down at the tree ent. If she ate like the little blue, she would've tried farting on the ent, but alas, she lacks the gas to release onto the fallen-over ent. She chooses to ignore him and instead looks at her tattoo again, her arm lifted over her head. The rawness of her flesh is suddenly gone, her skin smooth, its usually warm hue returned. A toothy smile spreads across her lips as her eyes take in the contrast of dark red against her sunkissed flesh. The tattoo seems to radiate against her skin, the fine lines tingling against her back. She could feel its energy swimming through the lines of blood-ink. It was astonishing.


Shien was fervently trying not to be discovered, lest he go home empty handed without anybody's money. Who wants that? "Um, Miss, I'm afraid you have me confused for someone else…" He holds out his shaking hand for some misled generosity.


Grondo continued to crawl away from Dyzz; freedom is very sweet when it means that a big blue troblin is no longer on you.


Dyzz looked at Dyzz like he was stupid. She just watched him and picked her nose, the chunks of gold still lying over in the grass. Dyzz was flat out confused, though the disguise did nothing to fool her. She knew his smell.


Dyzz ignores Grondo, but if he gets too far away, she'll likely punish him.


And he did go too far. Far enough to get lost from sight.


Madigan glances at the vagabond once more and pays him no mind as she stands, grabs her bag and the tattoo sketch, and pats Dyzz on her head without a word as she starts to run off to show the Queen of Frostmaw the final product of her design. She suddenly stops in her tracks and turns around to give Dyzz an appreciative kiss and then off she goes again, butt naked through the town. Oh lord.


Dyzz is jealous! She strips all her clothes off, and chases after Madigan! Weeeeee!