RP:Taking a Break

From HollowWiki

Desert Oasis

Istvan had decided that wandering about in the deep deep desert was a rather futile method of catching scorpions and it'd be much better to try and find them where there was water. As such, he'd relocated to this oasis, or at least the area around it. Here there was much more life--dragonflies aplenty, tarantulas feasting on lizards feasting on the dragonflies... and, he hoped, scorpions feasting on the tarantulas. He'd returned to his previous hunting method--wait, half-buried in the sand, eyes just barely open, peering out at the world just in front of him. He'd slowed his body processes way down, too, so time sped past before him--though not to the point where tracking a scorpion would be impossible. It did, however, make sitting completely motionless much easier. 


Sometimes a girl just needs a break. Give a girl a break! So while munching on a stick of wafer and chocolate, our sweet kitten wanders through the desert. This heat is nothing compared to that of the rainforests back home. This is a dry heat and she has a sunhat! How is a desert some sort of vacation spot, you ask? Well just look at this oasis! The feline pauses to take in the pretty little island of lushery and smiles, sucking the chocolate from her fingers. Yes. Yes this shall do nicely. Short little sundress laps at her thighs in the desert breeze as she wanders over to the water’s edge. Why I do believe you do deserve a little swim, kitten. Hat and bag are piled there in the grass before she dips a furry toe into the water. 


Sometimes girls who just need a break walk right past your hiding spot without noticing you. And it really figures--Istvan was hiding in the sand. In an effort to avoid getting sand in his shirt, he'd left it hanging in a palm tree. He'd left his pants on, however, for fairly obvious reasons. So of course on your next encounter with this woman, you're going to, once more, be in Taylor Lautner mode. I promise he's usually more dressed than this. Oh, the cruel twists of timing. Anyhow, Istvan Lautner decided that laying there watching the woman would be rather rude, because she'd discover him eventually and be all "How long were you sitting there?!" And that's a situation that, while funny, would be most tactful to avoid. Bringing his bodily functions back up to normal speed, he cleared his throat and stood up, brushing the sand off of himself. "Good day, señorita Daisy," he said, bowing lightly. 


Daisy decides the water is just right for this kind of place. Maybe even a little chilly for the area it is in. There is probably a cold spring bubbling underneath or something. Little bit of Frostmaw all the way out here, perhaps? What? Don’t act like you don’t explain stuff with ‘cause magic’ and people just ‘aaaah, okay!’ and move on. Well. Just like Lautner elves don’t want to get sand in their shirts, kitten flowers don’t want to get their dresses wet! Up to her knees in the water, she reaches to pull the dress over her head. But then there is a voice! Señorita! Ooooh. She stops and turns her head to look over her shoulder. “Istvan. Are you stalking me?” She laughs, dropping the hem of her dress cause no one wants to see a fat little kitten in the nude. Of course she is teasing him with her jest. “How are you?” 


Istvan had been prepared to turn away to protect her modesty--though if he'd honestly been asked, he wouldn't have been averse to joining her in the water. He shook his head at the suggestion of stalking with a laugh--expressionless though it might have been, poor guy unable to make faces--and responded to the question by stepping forward towards the water. "I'm well. Hunting scorpions. I require one or two for a potion I wish to create." He shrugged. "No luck so far, but I hope that the potion will help restore function to my face, among other things." He gestured to her. "I like the dress. What brings you out here?" 


Daisy swishes her paws through the folds of her green sundress then backs more into the water. Who cares if the dress gets wet anyway? It will dry quickly in this desert air anyway. “You should join me.” She kicks the water at Istvan with a little giggle before backing further up to her waist. So refreshing! And the water is so clear too. Like someone windex’d the surface. “Restore...” She pauses, looking his face over. He does have a nice face. That doesn’t move so much. “Scorpions paralyze, you know. Who gave you the recipe?” 


Istvan entered the water with her--since she was still wearing her dress, he'd continue to wear the pants. He moved easily onto the water, out to her depth. "Actually, only some scorpions paralyze. Others cause the nervous system to work so hard that it shorts out. The recipe says that a properly diluted mixture of this scorpion's venom can increase reaction time, strength, and possibly even heal paralyzed tissue." Istvan shrugged. "At least, that's the plan." He twitched one corner of his mouth a little. "Also, just for the record," and then sent a splash her direction, to make up for the kick she'd sent earlier. 


Daisy squeals with laughter as she turns her head away from the kicked splash, holding up both paws in defense as if she hadn’t planned on completely dunking herself under the water anyway. That is just what you’re supposed to do! What fun is it if you just stand there and blink at the other person while they splash you? No fun! Boring fun! And boring fun is the worst kind of fun! This is fun fun and by golly are they gonna have a good time! Too bad she isn’t some sort of water mage. That doesn’t matter. She likes being a druid anyway. “Are you experienced with potions?” Maybe you should introduce him to Hector, kitten. “Because I know a dryad that is.” Leaning backwards, she uses her arms to stay above water while kicksplashing at the elf. Ha! 


Istvan made a see-sawing motion with his hand--he was sorta experienced--right before dropping completely under the water to avoid being kicksplashed. He then attempted to use his newfound underwater stealthiness to slink up closer to the woman--then bursting out of the water right next to her with a large area splash. "Really? What's her name; I'd like to meet her," he answered, after the sound of the water had died away. Of course Istvan was capable of fun! Just because his face doesn't move and because his teaching methods usually involve beating the living daylights out of his students didn't mean he didn't know how to have fun. He then put his arms into a defensive position, to protect against any splashes or potential slaps for coming too close. (Although, considering the eskimo-kissing that had been done on their previous adventure, perhaps merely within area-splashing range wasn't too close at all.) 


Daisy would warn you once and then send something organically sharp through your throat if you got too close without her permission. But she likes Istvan and their fun amuses her. You’d think with all the fighting and war and death and destruction that happens around these lands that something like this, something light-hearted and sweet, would be hard to come by. You would think. Daisy seems to attract smiles and the child hidden deep down inside most of the residents. The druid takes a face full of water, laughs, wipes it off, and then full body leaps at Istvan. “Her name is Hector.” She fully intends on pouncing and dunking the elf. 


Istvan was pounced and dunked quite handily--the water slowed his reactions and he wasn't able to get out of the way in time. As such, he went DAOUWGHN. Completely by reflex--without even thinking about it--his first reaction was to try and latch onto her body with his arms and pull her under with him, twisting in mid-fall so that they'd both be able to surface after the dunk with no major difficulty. Should this prove successful, he'd swim out a little deeper, to where he couldn't touch the bottom, and tread water. "Hector, señorita? Interesting name." He'd only heard that particular name used for males before now. 


Daisy is sure to take a deep breath before going under. When you pounce in water, there is always the possibility that you are going to go under! Clever elves are clever and the pair doesn’t drown! Every once in awhile, Daisy gets comments about liking water so much. You know. Being a feline and all. To these she just smiles without making comments about how inappropriate it is to bathe as felines do all the time and just shrugs. “Mhmm!” The druid stays close to Istvan with silent promises to behave while they are so deep. If he can’t touch the bottom, you know she can’t! “Hector is very good with potions. And Potions loves her.” Of course, the elf won’t hear the uppercase P there in the stygian unicorn’s name. But the comment makes sense all the same. 


Istvan kept a watchful eye on her--he figured she could swim well enough, but if for whatever reason she'd happen to need support, he'd offer it immediately. He tilted his head lightly to one side, deciphering the second sentence in his head. Eventually he decided that it was a reiteration of the first sentence. "I shall have to meet with her, then," he said, twitching the corner of his mouth again in an attempt to smile. Then a thought occurred to him. "Señorita, do you know how to dance?" It was just a random thought that popped into his mind, but while they were out here having fun, he might as well ask. 


Daisy is quite the swimmer, as Istvan will soon see! She easily drifts laps around the elf and his watchful eye. “Good! I will send a messenger so she will know you are coming.” A deep breath is taken and down she goes. Leaving her eyes open, the kitten has a peek at what might be habitating in these waters. Clear as it is, she can see right to the other side! Finding nothing exciting, she resurfaces in time for that random thought. “What? Oh! I do.” Careful, kitten. This elf could be a spy. 


Istvan nodded, and was about to express his appreciation for the offer to send a messenger when she vanished, dropping below the surface. Tactfully, of course, he waited for her to resurface before he put his next thought out there, and was glad when she answered positively. He knew how to dance as well, and so maybe sometime... "Oh, lovely. I'm rather fluent in several forms of dance myself," he said. "Perhaps sometime we could go dancing together, if you would like." He used this opportunity to then take a large breath of air and go under the water himself, looking around for anything of interest, taking care to not look in Daisy's direction to preserve modesty. 


Daisy’s dress is something of a wonder. Not only does it not get tangled up in her legs while she swims (it helps the hem hits her about mid thigh), but it also remains in such a fashion that keeps her bits properly covered! You could only hope for such a dress in your closet! Leaning back, she floats a bit while he dives beneath the water. Does she want to dance with the elf? He certainly does seem nice enough. After their first adventure, she is pretty sure he wouldn’t just throw her into danger and take off running. Oh come now. Everyone knows the dangers of dancing! She smiles, confident he would save her again. “Yes. I would,” she answers as soon as he pops back up. 


Istvan would probably actually want such a dress if it was a little longer--the freedom of such a garment would be great for mobility and confuse the heck out of his enemies. But he wasn't about to start cross-dressing today. Not yet. He smiled and rubbed his hands together at the answer. "Splendid!" he said. "I shall start looking for an opportunity. Formal, or non-formal?" Such things did of course matter--going to a waltz that you thought was a breakdance party could be embarrassing, and vice versa. 


Daisy is quite fond of any form of dancing! Especially with a partner who is equally light on their feet. No doubt she will dance with most of Hollow before she dies and then probably the rest after! So her answer doesn’t come as a surprise to anyone, except for maybe Istvan since he doesn’t know the kitten so well. “Your choice.” Why not let the elf choose the medium he is best at? A stroke of her arm pulls her back towards shore. “Do you want help with your scorpions?” 


Istvan contemplated which form of dancing he preferred long enough for her to start swimming back toward shore. He turned his attention back to her at her question and shrugged with a twitch-smile (one of which needs to be added to his above post because the narrator has a tendency to forget Istvan's facial paresis). He was a patient sort and could easily wait on the scorpions to just show up, but help was always appreciated. "I can handle it myself if you don't wish to help, señorita, but I would appreciate whatever aid you wish to bring me." That's what I just said! Istvan received a bop from a narratorial squeaky hammer, likely eliciting confusion and laughter from the audience. 


Daisy stretches out once she is out of the water and rings out her dress a bit. Of course she will help with the scorpions! She wouldn’t have offered if she wasn’t going to. It is also a good thing Istvan says the things he is thinking. This kitten is no mind reader! “Do you need the whole scorpion or just the venom?” Her body spasms in one of those full-body, need to be dry, feline shakes that aren’t as violent as when a dog does it, but still sprays water everywhere. “And how many?” 


Istvan waited in the water for a moment as she was getting out--he suspected there might be one of those drying-off shakes and waited for her to finish before stepping out of the water himself. He didn't bother drying off--he figured the desert would do that to him soon enough anyways--and looked thoughtfully at the ground in places he thought would be likely. "Preferably the whole scorpion, in case the potion ends up being temporary." (and also in case he wanted to train it/them and use it/them as [a] pet(s).) "And I shouldn't need any more than two or three. One might even be enough." He nodded. "Easier to store, too, if we just have one." 


Daisy plops herself down in the sand, determined to let that desert sun do its job and dry out her dress. “Two might be nice.” Especially if you’re into scorpions and breeding and oh gosh, baby scorpions are so cute! Probably because they are so small. Just another reason (besides Daisy’s existence) that small things are usually cute. She rolls to her belly and stretches an arm out in the sand above her head. Two claws from her other paw slowly walk along the sand in front of her nose. “Do you have something to keep them in?” A soft hum vibrates in her throat. Yes, you know that purr. 


Istvan did, in fact, have something to keep them in, though he didn't really expect to do any scorpion breeding. Although if he did, he'd need to find a place to keep the colony. Maybe he'd build a scorpion house or something if he discovered them having babies. And then he'd go out and get more scorpions and do some selective breeding and make super scorpions! And then--the narrator interrupts this fantasy with the announcement that Istvan walked over to his jacket, also hanging in the tree, and withdrew a pair of glass jars with perforated lids from large pockets on the insides, then returned them to Daisy. He then laid down in the sand next to her, mostly so that he could feel the purr through the sand. Some part of his mind registered that he shouldn't let it affect him too much--for the same reason one doesn't drink too much--and kept that part of his mind on high alert, monitoring himself for possible side effects. The rest of him, though, decided to just relax and enjoy the sound. 


Daisy closes her eyes as she rolls and shifts and adjusts so her back is against Istvan’s chest. He’ll feel the purring deep in the pit of his stomach. Not because she is so close, but because that is just what happens when the druid emits that magical comfort. A paw smooths the sand down in front of her face so the jars can be placed open and on their sides just there. “Patience,” she whispers, but they really don’t have to wait very long at all. As if walking pincer in pincer, a pair of scorpions scuttle over the sand, curious about what all the noise is about. 


Istvan wasn't sure whether to put an arm around her or not--she didn't seem to mind it before, though one didn't want to make assumptions with this sort of thing--still, it did seem like the natural thing to do when someone sits back-to-chest with you. He was in the middle of this argument--was, in fact, about to ask her if it would be alright--when along came the pair of scorpions, walking right up towards them. Istvan's eyes widened for a moment, impressed. He remained quiet and still, letting Daisy do her thing--he didn't want to frighten off the scorpions and possibly mess up the encounter. 


Daisy opens her eyes with a smile when the tiny pitter of tiny scorpion feet pat on the sand. Yes, they’ll do just nicely. Reaching back, she laces her fingers with Istvan’s so that held pawhands can be placed on her belly. Paws and hands should be held when spooning. It is the silverware thing to do! The purring thickens through air and flesh, exciting the scorpions into a dance. They move closer then back then closer again, confused and curious and wanting and scared all at the same time. Pincers snap and pinch at each other on their way to the other pair in the sand. One of the scorpions darts into a jar right away and settles down, claiming this land for the scorpions of the east! The other scorpion tramples its way over to just in front of the feline’s nose, stinger at the ready. “Shh,” she coos. “Go on then.” The scorpion kicks at the sand like some sort of bull before darting into the other jar. 


Istvan was quite glad that she'd reached for his hand, and as he watched the scorpions just dart into the jars he gave her paw a little squeeze--then reached around with his other hand for the lids, wherever they'd gotten off to. This motion might end up bringing his arm underneath her head, and if she decided to use it as a pillow while he attempted to affix the lids on the jars, he wouldn't mind. And of course he would feed them--small lizards and other prey animals were abundant in Kelay and fairly simple to catch. Following putting the lids on the jars, he'd offer a twitch-smile to the back of her head. "Many thanks, señorita Daisy," he said quietly. "I am now in your debt. If there is ever something I can do for you, you have but to ask." 


Daisy nuzzles into that arm then looks up at Istvan. More like she shoves her nose into the curve of his neck, really. Either way, she smiles. “You already are doing something, Istvan. You’re taking me dancing.”