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metamorphosis2012-01-25 10:01 pm
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2012-01-25 10:01 pm
Entry tags:
296;
Title: fen grind ahrk meyz fundein
Characters: Spada Belforma, Luca Milda
Rating: G
31/365. Skyrim might be getting to me a little.
“Can you stand?” The voice comes from above him, worried and edged with fear. He opens his eyes slowly, squinting against the light, and something – no, someone, stands in front of it. They're a dark silhouette with the edges outlined; he can make out silver hair and mud-covered clothing through his narrowed eyes and he groans, swatting away the figure when it comes closer to try and help him.
“If you let me!” He grits his teeth and pushes himself to his knees, his body aching and burning in pain. “Damn, man, I feel like I got hit by a train.”
“Of sorts,” is the-- the boy's quick reply, yeah, a boy, now that he can see him. Wary green eyes watch him as he stands, and he rolls his shoulders as he waits for an explanation. The boy fidgets a little before he continues, hesitance gripping every word. “Um, you were hit by a carriage, I think. I mean, um, there's not much else to hit you out here, right?” He laughs a little, nervous and awkward, and shuts right up when it falls flat; a moment later he's shrugging off his jacket and holding it out. “Um, I'm Luca. Luca Milda. You were kind of sinking in the mud – I'll wager a guess that that's because of the rains we've been having – so I pulled you out and, um... I hope you're feeling better, sir.”
“It ain't sir. The name's Spada Belforma, all right?” Spada stretches a little and Luca nods fervently, squeezing his hands together. He kneels down while the boy shifts on his feet, tense and wondering if he should leave, just to pick up his hat and brush it off, putting it back on as he straightens out and works past the sting of mud in his wounds. “You any good with bandages?”
Luca jumps when he's addresses and hesitates before he gives half a nod; Spada motions him over and he goes, helping Spada out of his shirt and frowning a little at old scars. Spada scowls and pushes his wandering hands away from them - “They're old, forget 'em.” - and he looks at the new scratches instead, running his fingers near them; they're cold and feel just right against the inflamed skin, but Luca won't let him push against them. The latter pulls a jar of cream from a pack laying nearby, and Spada moans a little when Luca rubs it on his back. It's cold and numbing; he doesn't even feel the needle dipping through his skin, although he sees Luca put it away along with a roll of string and retrieve bandages instead. Those go on next, around his middle and his shoulder, and he moves his right arm a little to make sure it's still usable. Nothing's broken, or so he assumes from the lack-of splint, and he dresses himself back up once Luca moves away and goes back to fidgeting near his pack. He's well-dressed, and off in the distance Spada can see a city.
“You come from there?” Luca looks confused for a moment before Spada motions towards it with a jerk of his head and he nods back. “What's the name of it?”
“Um... Regnum. That's the capital.”
Spada feels confusion rise up in him for a moment – hadn't he been closer to the sea? – and nods slowly. He takes a quick glance around for his swords and finds them carefully wrapped in a large cloth, cleaner than the rest of him, and figures it must be Luca's doing. He puts them in their places, rests his hands on the hilts comfortably, and puts all his weight on his right foot nonchalantly. He inspects Luca carefully – fair skin, fine clothes under all that mud; he had to be a noble of some sort, Spada decides, from the look of him.
“What's a kid like you doin' out here? Figured your type would be more of the 'sittin' around readin' books' variety instead of adventurin' outside.”
Luca's eyes slide away from his and watch the sun inch closer and closer to the horizon instead. “I love books, but... I kind of wanted to see the world for myself...”
Spada shrugs – that's a noble enough idea for a guy like him, he supposes. He doesn't even pause after Luca's answer; he just holds out his hand and waves it up and down a little until Luca takes it and gives it a weak, nervous shake. He doesn't let go, although he can feel Luca trying to politely pull his hand away from the tight grasp, and Spada tugs him closer.
“You wanna travel with me?”
Luca blinks, evidently not expecting the question, but gives a shy nod along with a query of his own: “Why?”
“I could use the company,” is the easy-going reply and Spada lets go of his hand, tilting his head east. “Let's go while we still got light. We'll camp at dusk and I'll take first watch. You good with that?”
Luca doesn't even get the chance to agree or disagree, really; Spada starts down the road and he has to hurry to catch up, following nearly at his heels.
Characters: Spada Belforma, Luca Milda
Rating: G
31/365. Skyrim might be getting to me a little.
“Can you stand?” The voice comes from above him, worried and edged with fear. He opens his eyes slowly, squinting against the light, and something – no, someone, stands in front of it. They're a dark silhouette with the edges outlined; he can make out silver hair and mud-covered clothing through his narrowed eyes and he groans, swatting away the figure when it comes closer to try and help him.
“If you let me!” He grits his teeth and pushes himself to his knees, his body aching and burning in pain. “Damn, man, I feel like I got hit by a train.”
“Of sorts,” is the-- the boy's quick reply, yeah, a boy, now that he can see him. Wary green eyes watch him as he stands, and he rolls his shoulders as he waits for an explanation. The boy fidgets a little before he continues, hesitance gripping every word. “Um, you were hit by a carriage, I think. I mean, um, there's not much else to hit you out here, right?” He laughs a little, nervous and awkward, and shuts right up when it falls flat; a moment later he's shrugging off his jacket and holding it out. “Um, I'm Luca. Luca Milda. You were kind of sinking in the mud – I'll wager a guess that that's because of the rains we've been having – so I pulled you out and, um... I hope you're feeling better, sir.”
“It ain't sir. The name's Spada Belforma, all right?” Spada stretches a little and Luca nods fervently, squeezing his hands together. He kneels down while the boy shifts on his feet, tense and wondering if he should leave, just to pick up his hat and brush it off, putting it back on as he straightens out and works past the sting of mud in his wounds. “You any good with bandages?”
Luca jumps when he's addresses and hesitates before he gives half a nod; Spada motions him over and he goes, helping Spada out of his shirt and frowning a little at old scars. Spada scowls and pushes his wandering hands away from them - “They're old, forget 'em.” - and he looks at the new scratches instead, running his fingers near them; they're cold and feel just right against the inflamed skin, but Luca won't let him push against them. The latter pulls a jar of cream from a pack laying nearby, and Spada moans a little when Luca rubs it on his back. It's cold and numbing; he doesn't even feel the needle dipping through his skin, although he sees Luca put it away along with a roll of string and retrieve bandages instead. Those go on next, around his middle and his shoulder, and he moves his right arm a little to make sure it's still usable. Nothing's broken, or so he assumes from the lack-of splint, and he dresses himself back up once Luca moves away and goes back to fidgeting near his pack. He's well-dressed, and off in the distance Spada can see a city.
“You come from there?” Luca looks confused for a moment before Spada motions towards it with a jerk of his head and he nods back. “What's the name of it?”
“Um... Regnum. That's the capital.”
Spada feels confusion rise up in him for a moment – hadn't he been closer to the sea? – and nods slowly. He takes a quick glance around for his swords and finds them carefully wrapped in a large cloth, cleaner than the rest of him, and figures it must be Luca's doing. He puts them in their places, rests his hands on the hilts comfortably, and puts all his weight on his right foot nonchalantly. He inspects Luca carefully – fair skin, fine clothes under all that mud; he had to be a noble of some sort, Spada decides, from the look of him.
“What's a kid like you doin' out here? Figured your type would be more of the 'sittin' around readin' books' variety instead of adventurin' outside.”
Luca's eyes slide away from his and watch the sun inch closer and closer to the horizon instead. “I love books, but... I kind of wanted to see the world for myself...”
Spada shrugs – that's a noble enough idea for a guy like him, he supposes. He doesn't even pause after Luca's answer; he just holds out his hand and waves it up and down a little until Luca takes it and gives it a weak, nervous shake. He doesn't let go, although he can feel Luca trying to politely pull his hand away from the tight grasp, and Spada tugs him closer.
“You wanna travel with me?”
Luca blinks, evidently not expecting the question, but gives a shy nod along with a query of his own: “Why?”
“I could use the company,” is the easy-going reply and Spada lets go of his hand, tilting his head east. “Let's go while we still got light. We'll camp at dusk and I'll take first watch. You good with that?”
Luca doesn't even get the chance to agree or disagree, really; Spada starts down the road and he has to hurry to catch up, following nearly at his heels.