RP:The Almost Something's
Summary: Another person witnesses Irenic’s awkward and painful shift.
Spring of Vitality
The contrast here - for the present, in comparison to what lay before - is stunning. No longer does the stark, barren landscape lie void of life. Now the works of the denizens of the forest and the powers of the Pixie Druids have restored it to the full glory it deserves. A thick carpet of grass lies underfoot, moss and shrubbery making it soft and spongy. You almost feel tempted to remove your shoes if only to run through this lush blanket of greenery as no thorns or briars are visible, but decide against it as unsure who may come across you. This small patch of forest harbours a new feature than before, a glistening pool encircled by trees. The harsh destruction wrecked from the fires split the very earth here but the final effect has been far from detrimental. From the very ground has sprung a clear spring, filling the small crevice with its natural fluids as if the blood of the earth. Walking slowly over to the waters edge, you spot several tiny creatures flitting on ethereal wings about the radiant water, water Nymphs that guard this haven of life and nourishment with their Druidic magic. You cautiously lower a hand to scoop up some of the blessed water, the Nymphs paying little attention as you mean them little harm and upon drinking it down you feel a sudden rush of vitality. It's truly a wondrous act of nature and once again showing its unwillingness to give up. To your north, east and west lay the other patches of new forest whilst the southern route leads to the Old Forest.
Irenic has made himself comfortable in the natural spring in washing away dirt a blood from some animal probably. Being washed up he slicks his hair back with the water and comes to rest stark naked on the edge of the spring in allowing his tattooed legs to dangle in the water still. Honestly there was no point in covering up as he has no member to hide anymore - seeing as Larewen cut it off, but he doesn't seem concerned about it. Mismatched eyes stare down into the pools after flicking a Nymph off his broad shoulder and he remembers now why he stopped coming here. Anyone approaching the bare Avian from behind would notice two ugly red welts where his wings used to connect to his back. He takes this alone moment to take inventory of some new bruises or scars he earned from his nighttime hunt as tawny hands smooth over the ripples his muscles make upon his torso.
Sabrina was alone for the most part, though in the forest a Druid was never truly alone. She meant to come to the spring for a good cleaning as hygiene was on the top of her list of important endeavors but seeing as it was already occupied maybe an announcement of some sort was in order. “Annoying buggers, aye?” She blinks, did those words just exit her word-hole? Anyways. She had come up on his front and for obvious reasons her eyes take focus on his lack of instrument. She points, almost says something, and then looks away. She could have sworn at some point he had something there long ago. Best not to rile him up about it. As he inventories his bruises she begins taking off her boots, and then her pants, to dangle legs with him. Relatively quiet about the whole thing until she sits, she asks. “Still having problems with the Common?” She is nowhere near as bare as him, even when the coat comes off the Elfess is sitting, essentially, in swimming gear. The gloves are laid to rest next to her growing pile and the bow that is neatly laid next to it.
Irenic glanced up at what he thinks is a stranger and even though his clothes are folded neatly (too neatly) next to him, he still negates concealing himself. “Oui,” he agrees about the annoying Nymphs as some odd feeling of deja vu came over him. He caught her glance down, but didn't care as he reached over to flip open the ledger which was next to his things. It was his way of keeping track of things. Oh yeah, this one is Sabrina… That's right. “Uh, Oui,” to her question of him speaking common and then he mentions without question that his owner made it so he had no distractions, “C'est pour aucune distraction,” in his usual flat tone even though the romance of the language cushions his gruff timbre. A few of the nymphs get payback on the team effort of lifting up his book and holding it over the water. Abandoning his spot next to her he slips into the water again in turning his finely toned arse for her to see (on accident) and snatching his book back.
Sabrina is smiling, a rare thing these days indeed, but watching the full grown erm…male? In the buff, snatching that dangling tomb she can’t help but think he should have expected it. His arse, on the other hand, finely toned or not was not something someone in her profession was particularly coy over. While most women would be blushed and flustered it took far deeper things to stir Sabrina’s intimate attention. She remains on the shore for now. “You can bribe them with sweets but they still have to feel like they got the better of you.” And as if to prove her point a cookie is procured from her bag and seems to magic its way to the brush nearby. She wouldn’t miss it, she never even ate them. The Avian would likely realize that with a surplus of steal able snacks they otherwise left her belongings alone.
Irenic was caught in the Nymphs little trap as one was dangling from one of the small hoop earrings on the outer part of his elongated ear while another was jabbing at the soft spot where his wings used to be, “ack! Petite gueule!” He called it some unsavory name before they flew off after Sabrina’s cookie. The muscles of his arms tense in order to try and pull free the little prick a nymph left in his back to no avail. He made his way back to his seat from before and felt the Nymph that was on his earring still swinging about, but doesn't care anymore. He mentions he would squish them all if he wanted to, “Je pourrais écraser toutes ces petites piqûres.” Luckily they can't understand him. He turns those mismatched eyes down to Sabrina while assuming she came to rinse off and asks if he should leave her so she can have some privacy, “Dois-je partir?”
Sabrina shakes her head. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” A memory stolen from him, most likely. She reaches up to the Nymph at his ear, it mutters a trilogy of tiny hums and gurgles before surrendering itself to nine-second nap in her hand and fluttering away. The one at his back nestles in the hair-cove at the back of her neck and would not be heard from for some time. She enters the water only enough so she could still stand and not drown. She still had an aversion from it. “Likewise, if you want privacy I can just as soon leave too. I am currently partial to my company.” And her top is shed, tossed among the other items in a slosh. A quartet of sexless tarts cover their mouths and giggle with noises announcing her disregard for the male eyes present with oohs and aahs and finger points, to which she answers with a wish of water in their general direction. Of course, she missed. The water was her shield now, but it wasn’t like Irenic would be disturbed by her actions. He was so very different as of late and she concluded he was also no threat with little to no sexual prowess.
Irenic isn't entirely bummed he doesn't remember (at least visibly), but he does look just slightly confused before he remembered their last run in…. That's right, they were a thing or something. “Oh? Je me soucie de partager avec moi ce temps-là?” He asks her to share with him on what that time was like. Maybe it will jog his memory, but she was taking her clothes off and most men would be gentlemen and avert their gaze while few pervs would ogle her form. He did sort of neither as his facial expression didn't change, he gave a once over before those mismatched eyes rest back on her face to continue their conversation as if she were still clothed. He didn't realize he was a threat beforehand either because he can still quite easily get chicks without it. In leaning back on the palms of his hands he glanced up while a silent worry that he can't exactly see through the thickness of the trees to keep track of the sun.
Sabrina continues wading about, his actions confirming her intuition and she was comfortable with that. “It wasn’t really that long. I saw a really good guy in you, and you… well, you were still hung up on someone else. I don’t compete.” She never had a need to, but moreso it was unfair to the opposing party for reasons she was not ready to get into just yet. “We slept together once, no sex.” She grins at him stupidly. “You can be quite the gentleman when you need to be.” Or, it was a very convincing show. The tiny Nymph emerges, it's sleeping place becoming quite wet as the water came above her shoulders now. It ‘tsk’s’ at her and joins the cookie thieves in the bushes nearby. They would be running out of snacks soon, and maybe that meant it was time to clear out. She leans back, giving one full dunk of her head to drown the black tresses and draw them away from her face. There would be no real cleaning in this moment but it was enough to refresh herself from the damp afternoon. It was breaking on evening, that much she could feel and the fireflies had come out to play. Darkness was soon approaching. She exits the water and claims her things, wringing out her hair before attempting to slide a tight black top over her wet skin to cover flesh that appeared to catch a small goose-bump filled chill upon exit. She gathers her things and leans over him, her hand coming to rest just above the red welts at his back before placing a kiss on his temple. “You need to find what makes you happy.” Its what she wanted from him in the beginning, the reason she left so easily. Mostly, she figures any life without her in it is best for all parties considered.
Irenic accepted her kiss by not flinching away from her advance. He stands as his body was mostly dried now to put on clothes and he continues to look down at her as she barely comes to the height of his chest. A short dark chuckle given at her last sentiment before he tells her this is what got him killed in the first place and then cursed him secondly, “C'est ce qui m'a fait tuer et c'est aussi moi qui ai été maudit.” He slips on black slacks and positions his boots in a way to get them ready while fumbling with his shirt. Mentioning he's just never been a good guy and he isn't supposed to find happiness and that is why he's cursed, it's a curse of love, “Je ne suis pas censé être heureux parce que je n'ai jamais été un bon gars. C'est une malédiction d'amour.” He dropped his shirt, “merde!” He exclaims while clutching his chest and breathing heavy while taking a few steps back from Sabrina in caution… The day went on too late and he was changing back into a bird again and it's painful which is obvious in his face. Long slender fingers nestle in his own hair and clutches it tightly as it feels he's being split in half. He's reduced to falling on his knees while groaning and growling in attempts not to scream or yell as he didn't want to draw attention to them. This was guy who had his left eye pulled out and replaced with another and even his thing removed all conscious during, but this hurts worse than anything in all his hundred + years. There were sickening flesh tearing and bone crunching sounds when wings sprouted from those sore spots and then grew feathers. After a moment of this, if she remained, he would look up at her with large birdlike eyes (still mismatched) and through a large golden colored beak he spoke common, “See? Something like this doesn't happen to the good guys…” he looked exhausted as those massive and shiny ivory wigs droop low against him. If she didn't pick up on her favorite scent earlier it was intensified now.
Sabrina watched in horror as a Lycan-style shift throws him painfully into bird form. She doesn’t want to touch him immediately as she figures this process is enough to deal with, without being fussed with. When it is complete she remembers to breathe, it had been some time since she witnessed any shifts first hand and still she didn’t have the correct method of reacting favorably. Instead, she throws her arms around his middle, surrendering her own items to tumble to the floor. “Bad things happen to all sorts of people. Don’t let anyone tell you that you are not a good guy.” She kind of stood there, half naked and awkwardly embracing him, that he would find her view was left unaltered. He was still the same person in there and… oh? “You do speak common now?” It was a really crappy addition to a curse, if it made it so he could only communicate readily in this freakishly huge bird form. He looked exhausted, and effortlessly she bled into him pieces of her, a loan of sorts, so at least he didn't feel as worn as he looked.
Irenic eventually rose upon talons for feet and is a little stunned by her sudden embrace which fills him with the feeling of deja vu once more. She would find the torso area of his body still had that tattooed tawny skin and it would be warm while he was speechless for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. Why won’t anyone believe him? Yeah, he isn’t some sociopath that is mean to everyone, but he’s done some messed up stuff. Should he go into detail? Is that what it takes? After a second or so he finally, awkwardly, pats the top of her head gently with a downy feathered hand and his other arm half wraps around her shoulders. His eyes spot little goose bumps forming on her and the velvety wings act on their own to also envelop her in their hug to try and warm her, but he sort of bats them back while forcing the massives to fold tightly to his athletic frame. “E-” he clears his throat as he was compelled to call her ‘elf’ for the briefest of seconds (odd) while gently pulling himself from her, “Sabrina. No one has actually told me that. I tried to be one of the good guys… For Quizzical,” he sort of scoffs as he remembers his brief time as a royal guard for Queen Josleen. “It’s because of this here,” a black clawed finger points out a covered up mark which was branded on his left pectoral where his heart is. “This means ‘monstre’ which was given to me by-” his explanation was cut short as he felt how warm the mark was as if it just ‘activated’ something and then it all made sense. Sabrina would still be standing close enough to see past the tattoo cover up job and that it was in the shape of some sort of crest. His explanation sort of lost, “the orphanage I grew.up.in…” It was them, they did this to him. Had he really not loved anyone truly all this time?
Sabrina frowns, but she is also inspecting the wound maybe a little too intently. "It is always the duty of the cruel to brand those they cannot rule." She looks up at him, taking a step away, but still facing the creation before her. "We've all done bad things, doesn't make us monsters." She gestures to his current state. "You look the part though. So which is the real you?" He looked to be suffering something of an ogre's curse, one way by day and night another... something along the context of a prince and frog tale. "The prince or the frog?" a grin, maybe that was too harsh. "I'm sorry... I haven't been sleeping." It was no excuse. What she said was well into heartless. "I still stand by what I said, You were a good guy, you are a good guy. You can always prove me wrong by harming me now if you're dead set on it." He may or may not remember how acute her regeneration was. Sure, it would hurt, but he would have to be particularly malicious to snuff her out. The thoughts of Quizzical were not as far off as he may have suspected. The Healer regretted not being able to save him, and had she chosen necromancy over healing she might have succeeded. He wasn't -that- dead. Maybe if she tried harder. She is relatively quiet. "He was.... I didn't know him. But a bad guy doesn't -try- for anyone." She couldn't convince him, any more than any other had been trying to convince her she was worth more than a commonplace tool, to be disposed of. Chances are she was less gifted with words than others had been for her. In other words, there wasn't a lot she could convince him of.
Irenic would smirk if he could at the cute little rhyme she made. “Do you need me to list of examples? I can, but you would have to suffer through witnessing another shift as it would take us till sunrise.” His usual gravely guffaw came from his beak at her jab as he didn’t take offense. Usually he’s in a prickly mood right after a shift due to exhaustion, but he was oddly feeling fine at the moment. “I don’t know what I am as far as the curse. It has to do with love and probably something involving the one a fell for or whatever, but something happened.” His large eyes narrow as if trying to remember, “but I went and erased her from my mind, thinking it might lift the curse, so I don’t even remember what happened… I’m just stuck like this.” He takes a bold step forward at her taunt, “you also might change your opinion if you ever have something I want or stand in my way of it.” His head tilts slightly just like the twitch of a bird as he boldly steps even closer in bringing their bodies to nearly touch once more, “so… Do you have something I want?” He raised the downy feathered hand and would usually creepily caress a hand down her cheek, but a glance to his gross black taloned hand and he recoils. He’s not nearly as confident in this form for he feels hideous and only wants to hide, but he stays there beaming his mismatched gaze down at her to see who breaks away first… Sort of like a game of chicken.
Sabrina is not impressed with his returned use of real words. He talked a lot more in this form. "Cursed for loving Artia?" she pfft's. "That is kind of a curse in itself, innit?" Her eyes close in instant regret. That was rude. Artia was not the same as she used to be, at least, not so far a Sabrina could tell. She really needed to get out of the habit of ripping on her. "I'm sorry, that's not fair." She finds a boulder or a stump to lean/sit on, over there. Crossing her arms over her chest she comes to a clear realization. "So, you need to get the vampire to love you, maybe one of those 'true love's kiss' deals" And she really put up the finger quotes for that one. If the witch was the reason for his current state, she would obviously be the one to reverse it. He steps forward, and she is already sitting or standing and otherwise unmoving. She leans back though, bracing tiny self under his towering presence and looking up all wide-eyed like what-the-hell? His hand is not something to flinch over, clearly not natural, but it was his general presence of impending birdoom. When he recoils her brows knit together. That was more offputting than the birdsuit; loss of confidence. So far from the 'him' that she knew. Before he can withdraw fully she reaches out and snatches his fuzz-mitten. A twitch as she recalls she isn't wearing gloves. There is enough layer of downy feather to prevent an insight but if he squeezed a little harder there might be some fleshy contact in their grips. "I liked you better before. But its your mouth, not your body as to why." She'd release him. "You get mean when you're put on the spot. That hasn't changed.'
Irenic didn't slip away from her grasp even though there was a tinge of pain he never felt before coming from her touch, but it didn't affect him and it wouldn't come close to the pain he endures every day. He allowed an awkward pause between them as he meanders his nearly seven foot tall self back over to his neatly folded clothes. Picking up a cloak as he miraculously folds his wings around himself like a cape before swinging the cloak over his feathery form. “It wasn't her. The vampire is not happy about it either,” little does he know that all it would have taken was his love to accept him in his bird form, but him and Valrae went and messed that up. “I've had the memories of whoever caused this erased. Probably for good reason,” seeing her kiss Hudson caused enough pain probably. “Artia is working on putting another curse on me to cancel out my current one… Well, try to anyway.” It probably sounds like a suicide mission. “Apparently her and I did kiss recently, but it was only because my mind gets out of whack when I look more human. The odd thing is, I don't even remember the time right before I died- or almost died. I made sure to tell the person not to grant me those memories back since it's what got me ‘killed’... I wonder what else I've done under that influence.” He didn't want to dwell on it, maybe he even left a chicken at Sabrina’s - who knows!
Sabrina knew the story, at least, the version she got from Artia when she was mourning. "Probably." She agrees, she herself had contemplated the very same idea. Unfortunately one needed to be dead or dying for the hex to take and she was reaching a difficult point being unable to attain said condition. "The fledgling?" She seems surprised by this, Artia was only changed two months ago, she should be near rabid still. "Was this before or after the shift, because.." She shakes her head, Artia probably too precautions before electing to go through with this to limit her feral state. She was human, not stupid....debatable if there was really a difference there. "I' just saying, maybe instead of countering it, try to resolve it. Often times these hexes are like riddles." Poorly executed riddles. Sabsy was just jealous because she sucked at them, being figurative and all, in her literal world. She laughs. "I beg your pardon, Sir. You have never been anywhere near Human." It was a compliment, really. She left the chicken bits out, mostly because Ara had been torn asunder and rebuilt since then so the issue of mucking up the house was rather moot.
Irenic gives the subtlest of shrugs under wing and cloak before pulling the hood of his cloak up over his hideousness, “about that… ‘Resolving it’ is tied to love and that… Just seems unobtainable at the moment. I don’t just meet someone and instantly adore them,” He just doesn’t move fast enough for those in his circle, “maybe my mast- Lady Dragana can grace me for the third time and rid me of this.” His tone seemed darker and rougher as his usual self was nestling quite nicely, “but I am not sure how much longer my mind can take this, Sabrina.” There was still a lot she didn’t know about him, like the fact that he is well read and even needs to wear glasses to study. If he couldn’t be found training he would be in a library. The fact he hates vampires and not because of some stupid old Avian thing, but because his parents were murdered. Or the fact he donates a lot of money and time to the orphanage even though Quizzical is no longer with them. “Just know that, whenever you see me next time I did not forget you on purpose…”
Sabrina smiles. "You didn't forget, just misplaced a memory. If you can find the Book of Ara there might be something in it that can help you. It helped me with some memory magic, before it tried to kill me with it." She doesn't seem to mind his growing grumpy state either, as usual, she took people as they came. No matter what feathered and monstrous form they took. "There are a lot of different kinds of love, Irenic. Don't resort to seeking out the romantic kind, it will only land you in deeper shit."
Irenic picked up the abandoned shirt and tucked it away before picking up the boots as well, but he wasn’t going to be putting those on. “I can tell you do not believe that. The more you keep saying things like that, you know deep down that it’s only making you more desirable to others because they will want to prove you wrong… Until the moment you let them. Romantic love is what did this because it is the deepest, you feel it in your bones.” He gives a sort of grumble, “I understand you are a healer, but you cannot fix everyone and know, even though there is a wall around you, that you don’t need fixing either.” He felt a sort of shiver up his spine as he had another deja vu moment here with her. He never tried to fix her, he didn’t desire to pry into her past and he wasn’t about changing her either, back when they were almost something. When they were almost something he was just trying to be there for her, a rock, something solid she could count on… But he could still be that as a friend. He glances over his shoulder so something shifting in the woods and he remembers he was on the hunt for food to donate to the orphanage in Gualon. “I’ll be seeing you, Sabrina,” he takes a few steps back before turning in order to make his way to depart, but not in such a hurry that she couldn’t catch up to him and have a last word or something.
She takes a step towards him as something catches his eye but it was too far and too dark with elven eyes to make out. She knew she didn't need fixing, didn't she? hat did he even mean by the first part, the point was to draw a clean line in the sand. She was just not available like that, there was a time, yes. Not anymore. So she keeps telling herself. "Aye" she concedes. She knew the feeling, more than once. Always one sided and one hundred percent unquantifyable. "Don't be a stranger, okay?" Don't be a stranger? that was the -most- ' Mom on a porch' thing she had ever said. And there was a witness. Her cheeks flush. Best she keep her yapper shut now, else risk sounding human next.