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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Feb 25, 2019 23:24:46 GMT
It was raining heavily as if the sky was trying to scrub the city streets clean of its grime and filth. He was running as fast as he could in the older part of town, drug dealers and prostitutes forced indoors to avoid being soaked to the bone. It wasn’t hard to spot him, even if the storm washed away any signs of where he had been. The only problem was it also washed away all of the traces of the one pursuing him.
How quickly things had shifted from good to horribly, horribly wrong. He had found the woman waiting in an alleyway, waiting for the rain to subside before venturing out beyond the overhang, her bag within easy reach. It was routine, or so it had looked… he had whipped out a knife, went for the bag, she pulled it back, so he cut her arm. Usually, that was enough… if he had done it to a human instead of the demon that suddenly burst forth.
He hadn’t stayed long enough to see the entire transformation, only saw the flash in her eyes as the pupils turned into golden slits, and an unearthly growling hiss chased him away. But he knew he was being followed; fearful glances over his shoulder revealed the dark figure, incredibly huge and impossibly fast, only paces away, flitting between the shadows. At first finding a woman alone in a storm, with absolutely no witnesses, had seemed too perfect. Now he knew that it had been. There was no one he could call to for help, no one to try and intervene or even simply distract the monster. He looked over his shoulder again, and for a brief moment he thought he might have escaped; there was nothing there.
From the side something powerful hit him, sending him flying into another alleyway, and off of the main streets. The blow sent him almost all the way to the dead end, almost ten feet away, more than enough to knock the wind out of him. He got to his hands and knees, coughing up blood. His eyes went up to the dark shape that now filled the end space, feeling his heart skip several beats from fear. The top half of what he could see was human, or humanoid as it was as covered with the dark scales as the writhing, huge coils that dominated the space, slithering forward to start coiling around him. He tried to scramble back, but the coils were faster, pinning his arms and legs in place even as he felt himself lifted off the ground. The figure moved forward, the golden eyes glittering in the light, the lightning flashing to show a face that wasn’t completely different from the face he had tried to attack before.
“You chossssse wrong target, filth,” came the slow, lingering, and terrifyingly hungry hiss, but he wasn’t able to wail or beg for mercy. The coils were already so tight he couldn’t breathe… and just as he felt them tighten once more, he thought he saw the woman’s jaw unhinge, revealing the sharp fangs and forked tongue before the world went red.
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Her hand slammed the desk, interrupting the man before pointedly jabbing her finger into the wooden surface.
“I want second opinion! This police brutality!”
Captain George Adams narrowed his eyes at the woman, his mustache framing his pursed lips as he sat behind his desk, fuming at her words rather than being intimidated. “Bringing you in for questioning about yet ANOTHER missing person found near YOUR office is NOT police brutality,” he countered, his voice managing to remain level despite the obvious anger behind it. “McGraw might have taught you a lot, but he certainly did NOT teach you what all of his cute little sayings actually meant.” She pouted, straightening up to her full, broad-shouldered height before pacing the space, not making the police captain any happier. “Look, you’ve helped bring down the crime rate, I admit that. You’ve also proven to be very good at tracking down… our sorts when they cause a problem,” he spoke softly, a very different take on his usually booming voice, but it was obvious why his voice would become hushed. “And yes, I consider you part of my job, to protect our existence from the rest of the world. But it’s exceedingly difficult to help you when you keep ‘disappearing’ people!”
“I never eat someone who not deserve it!” she spat back, having not slowed in her pacing of the office. At least, until that moment; the curl in her lip momentarily became a leer, moving back to the desk to gently place her hands on it, leaning over on it until the man in his chair was practically against the wall leaning back. His own eyes flashed green, but not in anger; the texture of his skin had changed momentarily, caught off guard by her venomous tone. Ironically, her words made him settle, resuming his anger and his human disguise.
“Your fur shows, satyr.”
“You’re still a snake bitch,” he growled back once he had regained his voice, fuming that she had scared him so badly - especially since she wasn’t even trying to. “We’ve got butchers and hunters who work hard to supply enough food for even the hungriest and pickiest of us. You risk exposing us every time your hunger gets out of control.” She pulled back with an angry hiss, resuming her pacing. Adams watched her for a minute, eyes narrowing. Then, he let out a sigh, an actual look of sympathy crossing his features.
“Look. I know what McGraw meant to you… taking you in, helping you find your feet… tail, whatever, and got you established within our community. He was a great man, even if he did manage to throw numerous wrenches into our operations even after he found out about us. But… it’s been three years. And in our world,” he emphasized, earning a look of surprise from the woman, “We can’t survive alone. Not even Scythians.” He managed to bite back the fact that there was a reason her kind were almost extinct in time, given that being lone wolves wasn’t the main reason they were so greatly feared and thus hunted. “You need us. That’s not a crime. You don’t think I haven’t heard that you’re not picking up your meals? That you’re reclusive until you’re on a case?”
“You pry, goat.”
The irritated snarl only earned a smile, knowing he had gotten her in turn. “You are many things, Tiamat, but what you are not is subtle. You come in like a sledgehammer at the best of times. Now, it’s been a week since that mugger was reported missing by his buddies, so you are NOT going straight back to your office, but to Don’s to pick up your food. Alright?” Tiamat folded her arms stiffly across her chest, to Adams’ relief given how irritable she was looking - and how much his instinct was telling him to hide. “You act like baby sitter,” she growled, eyes flashing golden at his retort of, “Then stop acting like a baby and accept some help.”
She fumed for a few moments but decided that the burn in her stomach was of a more pressing nature. Turning and opening the door of the office, she paused as Adams called out to her one last time. “And stay away from muggers!” She scoffed, slamming the door behind her. The young man at the front desk nearly jumped out of his skin, always on edge when the private investigator was brought in. “G-good day, Miss Theo,” he called out, flashing a brief attempt at a winning smile, Tiamat forcing herself to return at least a vaguely friendly one in kind. He was only human, after all, and didn’t deserve her venom in the same way his boss did.
Walking outside into the cool, crisp autumn air, with the sun setting on the distant horizon behind the tall buildings that made up the middle part of the city, she began walking. At first she walked towards her office, directly because of Adams’ instructions… but she finally turned a corner and began making her way towards the meat market Dan owned. Pulling the large, worn leather trench coat closer around her, black hair teased by the cold wind as if mocking her cold blood, she moved forward, following the familiar smells of the street. She’d been to the police station often enough to know those streets… but as she was about to cross over the bridge, a new scent caught her attention. And it sparked her hunger enough to make her stomach emit a growl, rather than simply burn.
Instinctively she followed the scent, but managed to restrain her pace at a walk rather than bursting into a run, her dark eyes roaming as she sought out the source of that smell…
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Post by Kelathi on Feb 28, 2019 23:21:20 GMT
Anyone else probably would have noticed the signs of being followed, but that required a certain kind of perception not yet possessed by the woman being pursued. To say that she was naive to the ways of this world would be pretty accurate, but she had been learning, a little bit more every day, slowly but surely. She was finally beginning to feel that she was making progress. She had been prepared for this moment all her life, unwittingly, by the books her father had gifted her. However, books, she had learnt quickly, could only take you so far. Actually living here, and being amongst people, was the only way one could truly learn how to do so, and it had been a bumpy ride.
And it was only about to get bumpier,- today would certainly be a steep learning curve.
The man was in his 40s, a self-proclaimed comic-book connoisseur and a peruser of online conspiracy theory forums. At a glance, he seemed your average middle-aged nerd. Do a little digging, and you would see that he had a pretty sizeable wrap-sheet, a trend of stalking and intimidation charges as well as restraining orders filed against him, and a medical history that practically screamed ‘paranoia’ above all else. He had been watching her for weeks, obsessing over every detail of her, from her petite form to her pixie-like features. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help himself. Just like many before her, she had transfixed him, and by that point onward, he was trapped. He knew he was falling back into the 'bad way'. If he carried on like this, it would be the whole charade all over again, with law suits and his mother crying in the stand, telling the jury that he 'had always been such a good boy' as a child. Back home, sketches of this woman littered the walls of his tiny room. The curve of her mouth, the brightness of her blue eyes and the shade of her blonde hair, he knew it all, so there was no need for photographs when he could draw her without needing to think. She had invaded his private thoughts every moment of the day, and at night, he could not even escape her in his dreams. And then, there had been that night… that night where he had seen her for what she truly was, and he had realised that not only must he act, that it was okay to act, because it was in the best interests of the people. He had felt like a vigilante then, not a stalker. A vigilante about to deliver divine retribution. It had empowered him.
And now he had her, nowhere for her to run, and nowhere for her to fly. She had realised too late that she hadn’t entered this building alone. If she had known and understood the meaning of the phrase, ‘curiosity killed the cat’, she would have wholeheartedly agreed as to its aptness to this situation. The abandoned building, looming so high above the others had seemed to call to her, and at the time it had seemed only natural that she should satisfy her curiosity. These humans were clever, insightful; she wanted to see what treasures such a place might hold, abandoned as they were by time. A piece of history, just sitting there and waiting to be explored.
He had made his presence known only as she had stepped into a small room, an ancient office with a thin layer of dust covering the few, bulky computers, too aged to even be useful to looters. Scattered stationary on scattered desks, with long discarded papers and small notebooks littering the floor, dry sheathes open and curling like the wings of long-dead moths.
Her hand had come up instinctually, taking the brunt of the slash rather than her face. But now she was cornered, stuck in a room of an abandoned building with a mad man holding a knife. There was a desk between them, and she had whipped up a chair, holding it with the legs pointing towards him, like a circus showman trying to tame a lion.
“Get away from me!” she growled, trying to put force into her words, to not let her voice waver with the fear bubbling inside of her, her heart thudding so hard in her chest that it was beginning to hurt. She jabbed the legs of the chair towards him in a way she hoped was threatening, the blood of her hand running down the plastic and looking startlingly bright against the bold backdrop of blue, like dripping paint. The aggressive motion seemed to give him pause, at least for the moment, the blade still clutched tightly in his hand. Or, she reasoned, it could just be that he was taking a moment to recover from the damage she had inflicted. He was breathing hard, and on his arm were clear scratch marks, as well as a pretty sizeable wound that could only have been inflicted by teeth… gifts, of course, from her. He hadn’t expected her to fight like a wild-cat, which turned out to be much to her advantage. She had even managed to momentarily separate him from the knife, the blade clattering to the floor with a pained howl from him as her teeth clamped onto his arm. But as she pulled away and raced to the door, he had caught up quickly with a lumbering speed that belied his form, grabbing her and swinging her forcefully aside and into a nearby table, she, losing her footing and finding herself skidding across it, crashing heavily onto the floor on the other side. The few seconds of dizziness had given him time to scramble back to the knife and block her exit for the second time.
“Demon! Succubus!” he spat at her, she, only really understanding the meaning of one of those words. He seemed very angry with her, and she had no idea why. “I’ve seen you.” He snarled, as if he had heard her internal question, spittle firing from his mouth in his fury, like a crazed animal unfairly denied a meal. “I’ve seen you and I know what you are. You’re a demon, and you don’t belong here!” Well, at least that explained the ‘why’. She had been warned of people like him, which was why she had tried to be a secretive as possible when it came to revealing her true form. Evidently, she hadn’t been as careful as she had thought.
He struck forward then, with a speed quite at odds to his appearance, and she squealed in response, panic causing her to opt to throw the chair at him, and immediately regretting this decision, as she was now left with no defence except the easily surmountable table.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Feb 28, 2019 23:42:26 GMT
The farther she got from the main streets, the faster her pace became, the burn beginning to spread throughout her torso. Oh, how she longed to change! Her slithering speed was lightning compared to this human form, and she’d be there by now! As it was, she kept her head - and her human guise - as she went into the building, now hearing the sounds of the struggle. This perked her ears as a private investigator rather than a predator.
Well. Rather than JUST as a predator.
Tracking by sound, scent and heat, it didn’t take long for her to find the pair, hearing the man’s voice as she walked down the hallway. Her lip was already curled with disgust at the human by the time she got to the door, her hand snaking out and grabbing one of his wrists as he tried to advance on the woman.
Her grip alone made him cry out, fingers long enough to squeeze his wrist all the way around. What seemed to startle him the most, however, was the simple fact that she lifted her arm up, neatly tugging his feet off the ground by over a foot.
While she maintained her human guise, a deep hiss escaped her as she looked down at the man, her lip curled and revealing some of her fangs. “You think her demon?” she asked, with the sort of deep purr that sent a mixed signal, both of which ran up the spine.
“You haven’t met me yet.”
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Post by Kelathi on Mar 22, 2019 22:26:07 GMT
She was saved! Although not by an angel. No, it would do this woman a disservice to reduce her to an angel, with their puffy white wings and straight halos. From her blazing eyes and striking presence, she had to be a Valkyrie, come to thwart evil and strike down the wicked. Any halo she might have would be crooked. With a strength that seemed at odds to her appearance, she easily lifted the man from the ground, he, sputtering and biting his tongue in shock. His immediate reaction had been to drop the knife, his hands flying to hers and immediately trying to loosen the vice-like grip. “D-d-d-d-demon!” he managed to spit out, and it was almost pitiful the way his face had drained of all colour, now pasty-white, his eyes locking on the woman’s fangs. Clearly, having the upper hand had made him brave before, his conviction helping to spur him on. Now he had lost said upper hand, he was reduced to nothing more than a whipering, quivering mess. In his eyes, if the first woman had been a demon, this lady must surely be Satan themselves.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Mar 23, 2019 1:43:41 GMT
Tiamat merely laughed at the man’s repeat of the meaningless word, but the hunger gnawing at her already was only sparked the longer she stood there and it began to creep into her voice. She’d been ignoring the scent of blood in the pursuit of information, but she could smell it on the human… smell it on the girl… the knife… it filled her nostrils, and it was beginning to cloud her judgement. She began to feel constricted in her human skin, itched to shed it and change, to feast…
You need us.
Captain Adams’ voice cut through her hunger, recalling his concerns and near threats should she eat another human. Her hiss began to shift into a growl, her anger at the restrictions of her situation now focused solely upon the hapless, stupid human. Her hand tightened on his wrist, but pulled him closer to her, letting her eyes shift back to their golden slits, eyeing him coldly. “I see you again, you never see light of day,” she hissed, then threw him towards the doorframe, not caring about the sound he made as he flew. He was too terrified of the shift in her gaze to have any words left, scrambling through the door and believing something divine must have protected him against something that truly had to come from Hell itself.
With her back to the other, Tiamat tried to settle herself. The smell of blood on top of her already burning hunger was ready to drive her insane, which for any Scythian was a very short trip. At least, according to others…
Finally, she turned to see the small figure she had saved, unable to change her eyes back just yet, with the pattern of her scales beginning to make themselves known across her cheekbones. She almost looked weak, the way she watched the small bird, lidded eyes full of hunger, her lip twitching.
“Aaaaaaagh!” she suddenly growled, and swiped at a desk on the other side of the room to the bird, sending it crashing into the far wall. “Don… I must find… food,” she began talking to herself, almost like a mantra to hold onto. No, no she couldn’t eat another creature of magic… the fact she hadn’t eaten one yet proved to those in the community that she could be trusted at least that far. And since she had let the human go, she had to find her food. Don had her meals, she had to find him.
Before she turned on the little bird.
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Post by Kelathi on Apr 6, 2019 21:11:07 GMT
Unfortunately, the woman not only had no idea what was going on, but she did not even possess an inkling. What she did next was a testament to her personality, to the fact that her naivety in such things and dealings with such people was pretty much unrivalled. Instead of being afraid or wary of the woman, which she probably should be considering how she had handled the man, and how that same woman was now looking at her with eyes ablaze with hunger… the injured woman actually took a step forwards, eyes bright with awe. “Thank you for saving me!” she breathed, looking upon her rescuer with wide-eyed reverence.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Apr 8, 2019 14:25:16 GMT
It took Tiamat a few moments to realize that she was being spoken to, turning enough to look at the little bird. There was one thing that saved her life in that moment, with the blood dripping down her hand and assaulting the predator’s nose. In her life, she had seen many expressions from those around her, from fear to concern, anger, hate, pity, confusion, panic, pride, even lust on very brief occasions before usually turning back into fear.
But never reverence.
Tiamat didn’t know what to make of such a look, and it tempered her hunger, even if only for now. Even McGraw had watched her with wary eyes when she had saved him from some mobsters - although there it made sense, given that she saved him by eating his two attackers. Plus, they gave her indigestion.
It was his eyes that had shown pride as she grew into a private investigator, felt sorrow at her lonely life, and smiled at her unusual interests. He trusted her, but he never revered her.
With another moment of uncharacteristic weakness, Tiamat found herself sinking into a chair that had been left from the human’s attack, her hand gripping the blue plastic and cracking it as she tried to steady herself. The bird’s blood was exacerbating her hunger, but she didn’t dare offer to bind it up for fear of taking a bite in the middle of it. She finally did dare to look back up at the bird, forcing herself to not eye the bloodied hand.
“Food,” she finally murmured, somehow managing to control the scales on her face again, letting them smooth out into skin. If she could pretend the blood wasn’t there, she could pretend she wasn’t so hungry. Perhaps it would work… it had to work, as her next words cried a desperate plea to the delicate figure before her.
“Help me… get food…”
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Post by Kelathi on Apr 24, 2019 21:16:02 GMT
At the utterance of ‘food’, the woman tipped her head to the side slightly as she slowly interpreted the stranger’s meaning. It was such a strange request, and seemed misplaced considering the events that had just occurred, that it took her a moment to catch on. As the stranger elaborated further, the woman, still a little confused at the timing of the strange request, seemed to snap to attention anyhow. “Oh! Right. Okay, wait here!” and then she was gone, racing from the room.
She soon returned, however, peeking her head round the doorway with an apologetic, slightly perplexed look on her face. “I’m sorry… what kind of food do you eat?” It might have seemed an odd request, but the stranger had given her a task, and she wanted to make sure she got it right. To ensure that she did so, she needed more information.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Apr 25, 2019 1:35:51 GMT
The bird was too fast, as realization of what Tiamat was asking for dawned on her and she immediately took flight. Her hand had followed the bird, grasping at air before falling back to her side, her other arm wrapped about her stomach as if the pressure would alleviate her hunger.
It didn’t take long for the little bird to return, too eager in her rush to take any notes. Tiamat eyed her carefully, forcing her hunger to not fixate on her delicate form, the brittle bones…
No, she had to focus. The other was too quick to be too vague in explaining her need. She needed Don. “I need you… to help me… get to Don,” she explained, her words slow more out of desperate focus rather than how she viewed the woman. “He has my food.”
The need for aid became visible again as she stood, arm still pushing into her stomach. Her body only swayed for a moment as she stood, but as scales once more flickered into life about her features, the sway became recognizable. Not the sway of one too weak to stand or walk. It was like a snake, waiting to strike, and a trick of the light almost suggested that it wasn’t legs supporting her, but some massive form, coiling, writhing… but then it was gone, and she stood on her legs firmly, biting her lip as she closed her eyes, forcing the scales to recede.
She was beginning to regret letting the human go. If she had eaten him, it would have been the end of this maddening hunger. But she stepped forward towards the bird, her step heavy, not the slink of a predator. She couldn’t let it become that, or the bird was dead. She was too eager to help, too wide-eyed, too naive to recognize the Scythian hunger.
Of course, few could recognize it from previous sightings; it usually meant you were dinner.
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Post by Kelathi on Jul 14, 2019 21:50:17 GMT
She watched in awe as the woman’s form seemed to shudder before her, one minute human, and the next… something scaly but not quite discernible. And yet, incredibly, fear still didn’t pass her features, clearly unaware that it was probably fear that she should be feeling. All she could see was her protector, her Valkyrie, asking for help. Why should she be fearful?
“Of course!” She announced, shaking her head slightly as if in an attempt to get herself to focus, as she had been momentarily hypnotized by the way scales had begun to ripple over the woman’s face, disappearing just as quickly as they had appeared. She strode forwards without hesitation, taking one of the woman’s arms and hooking it across her shoulders. “Lean on me, tell me where to go.” She was small, she was fragile… but her face was set with determination, ready to help the woman in any way she could, her own injury entirely forgotten in the face of something that was far more important to her right now.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jul 28, 2019 18:41:56 GMT
Tiamat seemed subdued by the little bird’s unwavering desire to help her rescuer, but she was still bleeding, driving the predator’s nose crazy. So instead she accepted the help, as unusual as it was for a harpy to help a serpent. The support helped her step, and they were soon on their way, Tiamat focusing on usually one-word instructions and directions.
Fortunately, it was across the river and down a few blocks to Don’s shop, as Tiamat wasn’t sure how much longer she could take having the bloodied hand so tantalizingly close. The front of the shop was small, the Scythian actually having to duck a little to get through the door, but rather than stand at the counter and wait to be served, the employees all straightened up at her presence and ushered her into the back, where her step finally grew steady enough on its own to pull away from the harpy, her hunger aiding her speed. The employees at the front looked relieved as they passed, while the three in the back all seemed to tense and withdraw to the side. Tiamat might be trusted enough to be helped, but that didn’t lessen the danger she presented when hungry… and only they had seen her hungry and lived to tell the tale.
Don himself was a massive man, broad in every direction down to the thick beard that came down to partially cover his chest. He was the only one who didn’t back away from Tiamat, but of course he’d known her the longest of them all. Instead of looking afraid, he tutted at her, earning a deep throated hiss that only made him glad he had the cart between them, rather than tensing.
“Have at,” he said in a gruff but friendly voice, pushing the cart of carved up meat into Tiamat’s grasping hands. Even as she began to eat, the shadow of scales flowing over her visible skin, he came around, still careful but not cautious, to the bird who had accompanied her in, looking surprised at her presence. “How do you- oh, that looks like it hurts,” he began initially in greeting, going for her hand to shake but spotting the injury. “Let’s go take care of that, leave her to eat in peace,” he said, glancing over at the cart. Even Don, with so must trust in the Scythian, paled a little upon seeing her true form now coiled around the cart, the metal bars creaking as she distractedly tightened her grip, wolfing down whole cuts with an unhinged jaw. No one could bear to watch her eat, but they knew that once she was sated, she was safe.
Provided one didn’t provoke her.
So as the other staff continued to work on the other side of the massive warehouse hidden by the tiny front shop, Don directed the girl into his office, pulling out a first aid kit.
“I’m impressed,” he began as he cleaned the wound, “That you were able to survive Tiamat with this.” His tone showed genuine surprise, which was not surprising given how the Scythian was devouring a whole cow. “How exactly did you two meet?”
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Post by Kelathi on Jul 28, 2019 19:38:38 GMT
The little bird was relieved when the woman made clear that they had arrived, for what plagued her had only seemed to have gotten worse as they walked. She could only privately question how hunger could cause such a response, but she could clearly see that there was more to her rescuer than what initially met the eye, and she was patient and emphatic enough to see that this was not the time for questions. She was mystified, though, to find that as they entered the shop, the workers seemed to pull back rather than leap forwards to assist. The woman she aided seemed to accept this as a given, pulling away and heading to a back room. So the blonde woman followed, no less concerned but now also nonplussed. They received the same reception in the back room, only one man, and a bear of a man at that, seeming calm in the face of what was happening. Whatever was happening.
The woman attacked the raw meat like a crazed beast, the bird’s eyes merely widening as she watched the frenzied feed. As she began to shift before her eyes… the little bird finally began to understand why people had treated her with such wariness. Even so, strangely enough, she did not back away, and it wasn’t so much fear on her face rather than shock.
The man commanded her attention for a moment with his greeting, and she’d dragged her eyes away to fix him, instead, with her open, light-blue gaze. Offering her own hand to meet his had been what had alerted him to her wound, and with one last glance over her shoulder, she’d followed him into the other room, as trusting as a lamb. She stood in his office looking lost and unsure of what to do, her gaze poring over the interior, but lingering on the books on the shelf with interest. At his words, she’d looked at him with renewed surprise, clearly still not understanding the gravity of the situation, eyes wide and honest as she asked, “What do you mean?” But at his second question, she didn’t wait for a response to her first before answering, her eyes lighting up as she recalled how the woman had helped her, and eager to share with this stranger and sing her praises. “She saved me! This… awful man attacked me, and she came to my rescue.” A small, fond smile slipped onto her lips, and as he motioned for her hand, she appeared to come back to the present, offering it quickly. “Oh, thank you! It’s very kind of you to help me.”
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jul 28, 2019 20:09:02 GMT
Don simply stared at first at the woman’s response, but it was not because of what she said, but rather how she said it. Most who the Scythian had helped were shaken at best, or - in one very unfortunate case - nearly died from fright. The awe and affection in the young woman’s voice… was rather the opposite of the usual response.
Rather than argue she should be more frightened, however, he chuckled after a moment, returning to the task at hand. If she had survived Tiamat’s hunger with a freely bleeding injury, she was about as untouchable as one could be.
“Well, you must be new to town,” Don continued, smiling at her open thanks. “We take care of our own here, no matter the type. We help out where we can, and take care of one another as we can. That’s how Tiamat lives with us; she protects us, and we make sure she doesn’t go hungry.”
When she actually remembers to come get her food, he thought with a bit of a laugh, although not wholly in good humor.
“There!” he announced happily once the bandage was in place, salved to both heal the injury quickly and to disguise its scent. “Now, we can do this proper,” he added with a wink, holding out his hand as he had originally. “The name’s Don, I’m the local butcher for our people. If you ever need meat, just let me know, alright?”
A heartbeat after the harpy had introduced herself, and the door to the office opened, a slightly panicked worker coming in and nervously shuffling. “Eh, b-boss? She just opened the case for the-the pack,” he stuttered, less from fear of his employer rather than fear of watching the predator going for more than just the one cart. Don blinked in surprise, but shook his head and laughed. “Well… that’s fine. We keep having to redistribute her portions anyway, so we’ll just shift them again. Keep the front a little less stocked this week, get the pack their order and get another to send to Tiamat.”
The look of relief at not having to tell the Scythian she was eating another’s order was obvious, nodding and thanking Don for his instructions. And his lucky stars.
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Post by Kelathi on Jul 28, 2019 20:27:55 GMT
Her expression had lit up in interest at Don’s words. They take care of their own? Did he know what she was? And there were others? Until today, the little bird had not known of anyone like her. Except for a family she assumed to be out there somewhere, and some cryptic words in an old, dusty book, she had thought she must be the only one. Her smile only widened at hearing that Tiamat acted as protector here too, it made sense after the way the woman had saved her. As for Don, after the caring way he had bandaged her up, the positive light he had spoken of Tiamat in and then the friendly wink- the little bird had taken to him pretty instantly. She had nodded at his comment, more out of an eagerness to please rather than any intention of taking him up on the raw meat offer, and had only just introduced herself as Elisabel when someone had interrupted them. The conversation that followed went above her head but she didn’t really mind, she was still reeling over the possibility that there were many others out there that were like herself and Tiamat. As the man pulled back out, looking relieved for some reason, Elisabel turned back to Don. “So… she’ll be okay now, then? Tiamat?” as she questioned, she fiddled with the bandage on her hand distractedly. The woman was the reason she'd come here, after all, and although she would clearly be looked after here, Elisabel was still anxious to see her before she left.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jul 29, 2019 1:02:20 GMT
For Don to guess that Elisabel was one of their own was easy enough; Tiamat’s nose never lied, and she knew better than to bring a human to the shop. Besides, he’d been around longer than most, and could tell when someone wasn’t human.
“Oh, Tiamat’s a tough one,” he replied to her anxious question, although his hand did gently bat her good hand away with a quick, fatherly, “Enough of that now,” as soon as she began fiddling with her bandages.
Standing, he began rearranging the pillows on the daybed lining the wall of his office, continuing to explain. “Nah, she’ll be fine, but if she’s eating that much she’ll be wanting to sleep after. Lot to digest, after all,” he said, finishing the set up for Tiamat and motioning for Elisabel to follow him back out.
Tiamat, meanwhile, was already finishing the second cart of food, her movements growing slower and, just as predicted, sleepy. She turned to face Don and Elisabel, the chunks of hair now understandably turned into long, leathery scales, her features still recognizable but covered in dark scales, offsetting her bright golden eyes sharply. Even Don, as much of a mountain as he was, seemed a little small as Tiamat came close, proving that in spite of her impressive size as a human, as a Scythian she was even bigger. Her eyes remained focused on the little bird, as if fascinated by the fact that she wasn’t running away, rather than watching Don’s careful study of her movements towards such a delicate little creature.
“Get enough?” Don asked, getting the predator’s attention, a lazy blink as she looked over. “Yesssssss… thank you,” she rumbled softly, gaze dropping for a moment. It was always a bit embarrassing, to be reminded by Don about the provided food and the great care the community offered her. All he offered in response was a smile, tossing his head back towards the office. “The bed’s set up. Go sleep. And then take your food home with you,” he added sternly, once more in a fatherly tone, but it was telling how Tiamat merely nodded and slithered towards the office, her bulk disappearing remarkably fast into the room.
“Come on, Elisabel, let’s get you some food too,” Don said, not even waiting to watch Tiamat disappear into his office. It was a good thing he wouldn’t have to deal with the paperwork in there for a while; only once had someone tried to get past Tiamat while she was sleeping. No one ever risked it again. Don brought Elisabel into a large kitchen area, where vegetables were stowed in large bins ready for preparation and seasonings, pans and utensils lined the walls. Several staff members were in the process of cooking food, omelets and fried rice primarily, as some combinations were… beyond description.
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