⛧ Aʟʟᴇɴ "ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴘʀɪᴇsᴛ" Wᴀʟᴋᴇʀ ★ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
likethelight) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
usir2019-03-13 07:37 am
likethelight) wrote in usir2019-03-13 07:37 am
[open] I woke up this morning dead
Character(s): Allen Walker + you!
Status: Open
Location(s): Various, within a few days of travel of Krimnos for the majority of the month
Date(s) Various, not including time during the Einjar expedition
About: Catch-all for Allen during March, primarily exploration threads. (He will potentially be accidentally stumbling into the Shrine Egg, almost literally.) Character info is here, he forever has a lot of Weird. More prompts to be added as the need arises, and PM/msg me always for a custom one or surprise me with a wildcard!
Warnings: None atm.
TDM Continuations
⛧ Potion Seller Flashback
[ This is actually the worst. He hadn't even been on his own a week and this happens, ugh.
Rising to his feet somewhat unsteadily, there's a slender boy with white hair who's very carefully wrapped from head to toe in a durable black leather coat and cloak with silver trim, dark leather gloves and well-worn tall boots. There's no badge or insignia of any kind, but it's a purposeful enough sort of appearance it looks like he should be bearing one—or be bearing more obvious weaponry, as he would almost look to be dressed like a mercenary.
Or at least he would if he didn't look far too young, or have such an open expression with wide silver eyes... Or be wobbling like a teenager experiencing his first hangover. (Hint: he sort of is.) ]
Aaah, Master always warned about this sort of thing... I think I'm going to be sick. [ He sounds halfway between lamenting this fact and griping about, gripping the side of the tree he's leaned against somewhat tenuously. With a green sort of pallor to his already very pale complexion. Ugh. If only his head would stop pounding... is this what being hungover is like?? Who would do this to themselves??
He blinks however though, some of the haze and nausea clearing from his expression as he realizes someone else is there too. Immediately sharpened—but softening to concern as he realizes they're also struggling somewhat woozily to stand. Ah?
The boy reaches out a gloved hand, though he makes no move to actually touch you yet, hesitating just shy of your shoulder. ] Hey—
[ His countenance is in sharp contrast to the bright red mark he has slashed through the left side of his face however, as the hood of his cloak has fallen. Like a scar that refused to ever heal, or a tattoo that was scoured deep into flesh—which seems more likely, as his hair only just barely covers an inverted pentagram on his forehead. ]
Excuse me, are you alright?
⛧ Awakening
[ This is... well, bad doesn't even begin to cover it. Every hair on the back of his neck is standing straight-up with the wrongness of everything. Even his stomach roiled and he felt sick at patting himself down and realizing I'm alive, but... that was... but I remember...
That was 'death'.
And waking up in a crimson and black tunic he knows he's never worn in his entire life, a child tied to no nation in particular, didn't really help the wrongness of it. And so he is almost grateful when he hears the howl of wolves—dire wolves and he knows the difference—as it snaps him from his thoughts, and realizes he is entirely without anything to help him fight them. And that he needs to move. Now.
He can feel sick and worry about what's happened later.
Coming upon the dead knights though—four knights, two horses, large tracks.. shit, focus.. It's obviously an ambush, and not from other men but some monster or animal. Would that be from ogre? Troll? Except the prints seem too large... Focus, damnit. It couldn't have anything to do with him, could it? And there's nothing he do about the men (drops to kneel besides them, biting his lip when he sees no sign of breath or life), but the horses... ]
Shhh, shhh— [ Brows drawn together and a hand outstretched, he tries to calm himself enough to sound soothing as he reaches for the reins. They're rolling their eyes in obvious terror as he approaches though, and he gives a very faint sort of laugh as he hesitates then, hands held up in reassurance.
It's far more painful to listen to than it is humorous in any way though, and a very fragile sort of thing as he talks to the horses in a very gentle, normal-seeming tone. ]
It's okay, see? [ It's anything but okay, but he continues on amicably as if they were human and he weren't fracturing. ] I won't hurt you.
But if you don't calm down, that thing might come back. And then I don't know if I could save you like this. Or myself, either. [ Gentle and feathery, like his guts are all twisted up but he's going to paste a smile on anyway, as he reaches for the reins again as the horses seem to be settling even if they still stamp their hooves nervously. ]
I'm sorry I couldn't help them, either... Any of them. [ He's murmuring to himself as much as the horses now, as he works at loosening the knots. ] That must have been scary, wasn't it?
Witnessing that... [ It's... faraway though, and he trails off as his gaze becomes a little distant.
But the knot loosens finally underneath his hands—the right one which is human, and the left which is blood red and plated, leathery and inhuman with long black nails. And the horses rear as a blood-curdling roar echoes through the valley, the ground trembling under heavy lumbering footsteps. ]
⛧ Arkoda's Awakening (Krimnos, post-Einjar)
[ One can either sit around and mope forever over things they can't begin to understand, or... they can move on. Or at least keep moving forward until something makes sense. And especially when there's gold involved, well...
All mental suffering can just go on hold when there's gold to be earned, alright. He may have been given a new lease on life, but you see he's still very broke and would like to eat. And eating is expensive when you have an appetite like his.
Therefore, friend, you have found yourself facing off against one white-haired wisp of a boy in one of the Krimnos tournaments of unarmed combat. And he is smiling at you with the cheeriest expression, all the while cracking his gloved knuckles quite loudly and with gusto. It's absolutely not cheeky. Or menacing.
The golden grifflet on his shoulder, meanwhile, puffs itself up and spreads its wings quite menacingly. Which means it only accomplishes in looking further adorable and just a bit too much into it, as it's about the size of a hamster. ]
Please, the first move is yours. ♥ [ It's so politely merry as he cocks his head to the side—and the grifflet follows suit, its tail lashing madly, and... playfully?Bring it, bro. ]
⛧ Exploration (A Forest, shortly after arriving/before March 8th/Einjar)
[ The forest has been getting increasingly darker for some time, feeling like early morning twilight even at midday. Deep moss and lichen that's claimed much of the rock and ground, creeping upwards on the trees as well. It feels ancient--peaceful, honestly. Or it could feel that way.
As it is, the impression of dimming light doesn't make terribly much sense, as Allen is also pretty sure he's been going in circles for a while. None of this feels familiar anymore. It's the same land and yet.. it isn't... It's irritating. And he bites back on a grumble under his breath as he pushes a branch out of the way, only to feel a tug at his cloak that makes him pause.
Tim's regarding him with wide, expectant golden eyes as he tugs again with his beak and flutters back, trying to pull him aside. He blinks. ]
? [ Ah. ] You want me to go this way...? [ It lands on his shoulder and fluffs up in response, clearly proud Allen was able to finally figure this out.
Well that sure is... ... unexpected? But--reassuring, too. That would be really helpful, actually! And he finds himself a little disarmed by the idea, and takes a step through the underbrush in the grifflet's--Tim's--indicated direction.
Sadly his boot finds only moss underfoot, and absolutely no purchase.
As he has found a ravine.
Or rather the steep slope leading down into one.
The echoing yelp as he drops out of sight in a breakneck uncontrolled slide towards the bottom is far less dignified than he would hope and can be heard for quite some distance. ]
Status: Open
Location(s): Various, within a few days of travel of Krimnos for the majority of the month
Date(s) Various, not including time during the Einjar expedition
About: Catch-all for Allen during March, primarily exploration threads. (He will potentially be accidentally stumbling into the Shrine Egg, almost literally.) Character info is here, he forever has a lot of Weird. More prompts to be added as the need arises, and PM/msg me always for a custom one or surprise me with a wildcard!
Warnings: None atm.
TDM Continuations
⛧ Potion Seller Flashback
[ This is actually the worst. He hadn't even been on his own a week and this happens, ugh.
Rising to his feet somewhat unsteadily, there's a slender boy with white hair who's very carefully wrapped from head to toe in a durable black leather coat and cloak with silver trim, dark leather gloves and well-worn tall boots. There's no badge or insignia of any kind, but it's a purposeful enough sort of appearance it looks like he should be bearing one—or be bearing more obvious weaponry, as he would almost look to be dressed like a mercenary.
Or at least he would if he didn't look far too young, or have such an open expression with wide silver eyes... Or be wobbling like a teenager experiencing his first hangover. (Hint: he sort of is.) ]
Aaah, Master always warned about this sort of thing... I think I'm going to be sick. [ He sounds halfway between lamenting this fact and griping about, gripping the side of the tree he's leaned against somewhat tenuously. With a green sort of pallor to his already very pale complexion. Ugh. If only his head would stop pounding... is this what being hungover is like?? Who would do this to themselves??
He blinks however though, some of the haze and nausea clearing from his expression as he realizes someone else is there too. Immediately sharpened—but softening to concern as he realizes they're also struggling somewhat woozily to stand. Ah?
The boy reaches out a gloved hand, though he makes no move to actually touch you yet, hesitating just shy of your shoulder. ] Hey—
[ His countenance is in sharp contrast to the bright red mark he has slashed through the left side of his face however, as the hood of his cloak has fallen. Like a scar that refused to ever heal, or a tattoo that was scoured deep into flesh—which seems more likely, as his hair only just barely covers an inverted pentagram on his forehead. ]
Excuse me, are you alright?
⛧ Awakening
[ This is... well, bad doesn't even begin to cover it. Every hair on the back of his neck is standing straight-up with the wrongness of everything. Even his stomach roiled and he felt sick at patting himself down and realizing I'm alive, but... that was... but I remember...
That was 'death'.
And waking up in a crimson and black tunic he knows he's never worn in his entire life, a child tied to no nation in particular, didn't really help the wrongness of it. And so he is almost grateful when he hears the howl of wolves—dire wolves and he knows the difference—as it snaps him from his thoughts, and realizes he is entirely without anything to help him fight them. And that he needs to move. Now.
He can feel sick and worry about what's happened later.
Coming upon the dead knights though—four knights, two horses, large tracks.. shit, focus.. It's obviously an ambush, and not from other men but some monster or animal. Would that be from ogre? Troll? Except the prints seem too large... Focus, damnit. It couldn't have anything to do with him, could it? And there's nothing he do about the men (drops to kneel besides them, biting his lip when he sees no sign of breath or life), but the horses... ]
Shhh, shhh— [ Brows drawn together and a hand outstretched, he tries to calm himself enough to sound soothing as he reaches for the reins. They're rolling their eyes in obvious terror as he approaches though, and he gives a very faint sort of laugh as he hesitates then, hands held up in reassurance.
It's far more painful to listen to than it is humorous in any way though, and a very fragile sort of thing as he talks to the horses in a very gentle, normal-seeming tone. ]
It's okay, see? [ It's anything but okay, but he continues on amicably as if they were human and he weren't fracturing. ] I won't hurt you.
But if you don't calm down, that thing might come back. And then I don't know if I could save you like this. Or myself, either. [ Gentle and feathery, like his guts are all twisted up but he's going to paste a smile on anyway, as he reaches for the reins again as the horses seem to be settling even if they still stamp their hooves nervously. ]
I'm sorry I couldn't help them, either... Any of them. [ He's murmuring to himself as much as the horses now, as he works at loosening the knots. ] That must have been scary, wasn't it?
Witnessing that... [ It's... faraway though, and he trails off as his gaze becomes a little distant.
But the knot loosens finally underneath his hands—the right one which is human, and the left which is blood red and plated, leathery and inhuman with long black nails. And the horses rear as a blood-curdling roar echoes through the valley, the ground trembling under heavy lumbering footsteps. ]
⛧ Arkoda's Awakening (Krimnos, post-Einjar)
[ One can either sit around and mope forever over things they can't begin to understand, or... they can move on. Or at least keep moving forward until something makes sense. And especially when there's gold involved, well...
All mental suffering can just go on hold when there's gold to be earned, alright. He may have been given a new lease on life, but you see he's still very broke and would like to eat. And eating is expensive when you have an appetite like his.
Therefore, friend, you have found yourself facing off against one white-haired wisp of a boy in one of the Krimnos tournaments of unarmed combat. And he is smiling at you with the cheeriest expression, all the while cracking his gloved knuckles quite loudly and with gusto. It's absolutely not cheeky. Or menacing.
The golden grifflet on his shoulder, meanwhile, puffs itself up and spreads its wings quite menacingly. Which means it only accomplishes in looking further adorable and just a bit too much into it, as it's about the size of a hamster. ]
Please, the first move is yours. ♥ [ It's so politely merry as he cocks his head to the side—and the grifflet follows suit, its tail lashing madly, and... playfully?
⛧ Exploration (A Forest, shortly after arriving/before March 8th/Einjar)
[ The forest has been getting increasingly darker for some time, feeling like early morning twilight even at midday. Deep moss and lichen that's claimed much of the rock and ground, creeping upwards on the trees as well. It feels ancient--peaceful, honestly. Or it could feel that way.
As it is, the impression of dimming light doesn't make terribly much sense, as Allen is also pretty sure he's been going in circles for a while. None of this feels familiar anymore. It's the same land and yet.. it isn't... It's irritating. And he bites back on a grumble under his breath as he pushes a branch out of the way, only to feel a tug at his cloak that makes him pause.
Tim's regarding him with wide, expectant golden eyes as he tugs again with his beak and flutters back, trying to pull him aside. He blinks. ]
? [ Ah. ] You want me to go this way...? [ It lands on his shoulder and fluffs up in response, clearly proud Allen was able to finally figure this out.
Well that sure is... ... unexpected? But--reassuring, too. That would be really helpful, actually! And he finds himself a little disarmed by the idea, and takes a step through the underbrush in the grifflet's--Tim's--indicated direction.
Sadly his boot finds only moss underfoot, and absolutely no purchase.
As he has found a ravine.
Or rather the steep slope leading down into one.
The echoing yelp as he drops out of sight in a breakneck uncontrolled slide towards the bottom is far less dignified than he would hope and can be heard for quite some distance. ]
2/2
"You haven't left running yet." He finds that rather hard to believe though. ]
It's fine. [ He says it more softly and lightly, with an almost serene sort of gentleness about him, eyes forward and giving her hand a very small sort of squeeze. Like he means to be reassuring.
He also tugs her lightly to follow him as he steps around what looks like a treacherously soft patch of mud. Like it's quite natural for him to do so with the utmost sort of reflexive politeness. ]
I wouldn't call you a "damsel" anyway.
no subject
[Yes, this may or may not be a jab at a certain someone who may have spoken those exact words to her. After berating her over being uncivilized. Her smile may turn weaker at the thought. It was funny the way she could consider that particular memory to be "fond" compare to the rest.
She will continue to follow him as her step and balance begins to improve. The more they walked, the better she was beginning to feel. It was amazing how a little bit of fresh air could make a real difference. The mud, the plants, and water were all very helpful. If only she could just dance and sing, then she would be able to create a proper link to the area. Hear its voices, thoughts, and feelings. Those were always comforting aspects of nature, she found. It was surprising they haven't encounter any of the creatures living in the area yet. But for now, she was okay with not finding any of that when she had someone near.
Which had her interest.
He was reactive with his emotions and yet he seemed to be the type to go straight to the point unless she hits an emotional nerve. Was it that? Well, whatever the case, she did find him to be reassuring. He was gentle. With a pretty face, scar and all, and...he simply didn't feel like a noble even though his way of speaking is a little similar. At least, he isn't using his words to tactfully insult her.
A growing smile will appear, realizing he didn't consider her to be damsel. He was being truthful.]
Right! Because a damsel is someone a hero actually wants to rescue.
[Which she was not. She didn't fit any of the requirements for it. The thought was comforting. Just like, she'll notice the way he was avoiding the soft patches of mud.]
So you don't have to go through so much trouble for me. I'm actually a bumpkin instead of a city girl! Once I feel better, I promise to carry you! I mean, if I run, we should be able to reach a nearby landmark to help us find our way in no time!
[After all she was a tiefling, who are known for their speed and adaption to the wild, and she was no different, no matter if she has been living in the city for a couple of months now.]
no subject
You don't have to carry me... [ To his credit his step only faltered for a moment, and his tone is far more reminiscent of please do not. She also misunderstood what he meant by 'damsel'. He meant she didn't seem the type to swoon and need protection. She's obviously very independent!! Offering to carry him when he's not even injured... why.
It's a point not worth belaboring though, so he will let it slide. Even if it does rub him the wrong way a little that she took the implication so naturally that he wouldn't care enough. ]
To be honest I'm usually in the wilds. It isn't anything I'm that unused to. [ Small huff. He's still a bit stung that she would think he needs to be carried, and he continues to maneuver through the hip-deep reeds. ]
My master and I were always traveling.
no subject
[It wasn't asked in a doubtful nor questioning tone, but more in a excited response! He was a traveler. With a master instead of a relative. She couldn't help wonder about that detail but she will hold her tongue for once in her life. Everyone had a story, so it was best not to pry or else the conversation would be closed off.
Instead, Nike will chuckle, after realizing...]
It's no wonder.... ['you got pale'.] You don't strike me as a bonafide son of a noble or merchant nor as someone without any experience neither. You feel mature for your age. [A pause.] With the way you tried to act all professional and stern earlier, it made me wonder... [Was that a relieved expression crossing her face? It may be as she began to slowly piece a better picture of Allen.]
But I'm glad! How many places have you been to? Any fun or interesting things you look forward to finding when arriving to a new town or out in the wilderness?
no subject
Any fun or interesting things...? His gaze drifts back to the path ahead. Not that there is one. ]
More places than I could count, really.. [ He stops for a moment, seeming to try and get his bearings in the open marsh, before he gives her a small tug and sets off again in a slightly different direction. ] We were traveling for about six years. Some places we'd stay longer than others though.
[ He speaks gently, but seems to brush by that point a little quickly. Although that may also be as he seems brighten suddenly. ]
My favorite thing though is always all the different foods!
[ Did he just perk up? Yes, yes he did. ]
no subject
E-Eh?
[THAT WAS UNEXPECTED! His response to her question. The subject matter. Since, did he seriously say what she thinks he just said?! A beaming smile will appear as she leans in a little closer. Just a tad bit! As her tail begins to lift up and shake.]
Don't just leave me in suspense like this! It's rude. [Not really, but...] You have to tell me more about it! What was the most delicious meal you ever had in one of your adventures?