Remnants of the Earth
EDANITH => The Frontier => Topic started by: Tally on September 23, 2012, 01:19:40 am
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Lyric trudged through the red desert with an elaborately designed holy sword in one hand and a can of soda in the other.
Apparently soda was just sugar and chemicals and wouldn't actually hydrate you, but whatever. He had water, too, in the rucksack on his back, and he'd been sure to lather sunscreen over his exposed skin. He was so pale he was sure to burn to a red, leathery crisp without it. Beyond that, he wasn't much prepared for desert travel. All he wore was faded jeans and a white t-shirt proclaiming for some band he'd never heard of.
He'd definitely stand out if anyone saw him. The frontier had a way of roughing you up, and he hadn't been here long enough for it to touch him. His short, blonde hair had the look of a stylists's care about it, and his skin was unblemished, soft. All told, he wasn't looking forward to contending with the scarcity of modern amenities out here.
Still, he'd heard rumors. It seemed he was never more than a whisper away from some web of corruption, but that wasn't enough. There was plenty of it in Haviah, say, but little of it that would fall to his strengths.
Specifically, he was looking for corruption that could be vanquished with the blade of a sword.
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The calf and its mother were probably long gone, lost to the elements or taken by a thief, but Bailey set out into the desert anyway just on the off chance that they weren't. Foolish things. They couldn't have gotten far, though; she could see their tracks in the soil and thanked the powers that be that a wind hadn't kicked up to smooth them over.
Wide-brimmed hat pulled low to shade her eyes and hair tucked up under it, Bailey kicked her horse into a trot. She hadn't brought much with her, as there was no need; they wouldn't be going far. Just enough to last her an hour or two, some snacks and a canteen, a pistol in case things went sour, rope for the cattle.
Just your standard search and recovery mission.
She'd just crested a hill, leaving the ranch out of sight, when she saw a shape in the distance and realized she wasn't alone.
Her eyes narrowed and wariness crept in, but she kept on her path. It was leading her in his direction--it was a man, upon closer inspection--but there was no reason to suspect him off the bat, though the closer she got, the more detail she saw, and the...stranger he appeared.
What in the world...?
She hadn't been able to tell what he was holding back there, but now she saw it was a sword, though that was so bizarre she had to guess it was fake. And the guy looked like he'd stepped out of a fashion magazine. He certainly put her to shame; when she tucked in her hair, many folk mistook her for a guy before she opened her mouth and sometimes even after.
What an odd duck.
"Hey!" she called when she was close enough to be heard. "Hey, what're ya doin' out here?"
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When a rider appeared in his past, Lyric kept right on walking. Heaven sent him tasks, and his job was to deal with them, not avoid them.
His grip tightened on the sword as they drew closer, just in case, and didn't relax even with the woman's greeting. Chances were she was just a local, but there wasn't any telling these things until the fangs came out. There was that pistol at her hip.
Lyric waited until they were a little close so he wouldn't have to yell. He stopped and took a swig from the warm soda. It was getting flat. "I 'unno."
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Bailey's brow creased, and she reached up to wipe some sweat from it. That was a new one. "You...ya don't know?"
She drew her horse to a stop several yards away, though she had to be a little firmer than usual; for some reason, Maple didn't want to stop, and she stared at the man with her head up and ears raised, like his shirt was stuffed with apples. "Well, you oughta figure it out, knucklehead. You're gonna get killed out here."
It wasn't unusual to encounter the odd wayward traveler, lost out among the red earth and wandering aimlessly to a slow death by dehydration. She'd found some here and there, taken them to the ranch, watered them, helped them get their bearings. It was tough as hell out here. She felt for them.
But that sword, and his weird behavior...
You had to be careful. The government had a fun little tendency to dump undesirables out into what they considered "the middle of nowhere". Never knew when one of those lost idiots was one of them.
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Lyric dropped the sword. It disintegrated into light before it hit the ground. This here was a decent person, not anything he'd need a blade against. Not yet.
"Eh, well, y'know. Quests and all that. I sort of know. But kind of the whole point of these things is the finding out."
He tilted his head, squinting in the sun. Number one on his list of items to acquire for continued desert travel? Sunglasses.
"Maybe you're the one I'm here to help. What are you searching for?"
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Yep. Crazy. Completely off his rocker--or suffering the effects of heatstroke, at least, and no doubt dehydrated if he was surviving off pop. All that, plus a magic sword or something to top it all off.
Ooookay!
Bailey scratched her head. "Er, actually, I don't know about this quest business, but..." Aw, hell, what was she doing, trying to reason with someone who was clearly delusional? She shook her head and nudged Maple closer, and the mare eagerly complied. "Listen, mister, why don't we getcha outta the sun and into--"
Wait.
She stopped, drew Maple to a stop, and the mare pawed the ground in irritation. "Hey, hold up. What makes ya think I'm lookin' for anything?" How could he know that?
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Lyric started walking when she nudged the horse forward. Only, when she stopped, he kept going to close the distance.
"What? I wouldn't be very good at my job if I couldn't recognize someone in need. Besides, everyone's looking for something. It's the safest bet to make no matter where you are."
He gave the horse a pat on the nose when he reached them, and the animal lit up like the red district after dark, trying to prance about him and getting all frollicky.
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"Hey! Whoa! Easy, girl!" And now even Maple had lost it, ignoring her commands so she could prance around the guy in a half circle before she got her under control again, and Bailey began to wonder if maybe she was the mad one here, if maybe she was the one suffering heatstroke and just didn't know it. Entirely possible.
Maple settled down, but the mare still couldn't get enough of him, nosing at his clothes and lipping at his hair.
"Ha, good one. I'll give ya that. Well, if ya really wanna know, I'm lookin' for some cattle." She gave a wry smile. "Reckon that ain't as...deep an answer as ya was lookin' for, but there it is. A heifer and her calf." She shrugged. "Not a very epic quest, eh?"
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"Great!" He made sure to give the horse some attention as he looked out at the desert. He looked out at it as if he had the slightest clue where to start.
"Goodness is an absolute. Anyway, yeah...I don't actually know how to track things or navigate in the wilderness at all, and I'm actually pretty lost, so...lead the way!"
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Bailey rolled her eyes skyward and sighed through her nose. Yep. One of them had heatstroke and she wasn't sure who it was. In any case, whatever wariness she'd felt toward him was swiftly dissipating. This guy was clueless, and she wasn't sure he was clever enough to just be acting. Hell, he probably didn't even know how to use that sword, magic or not.
Besides, Maple sure seemed to dig him. She didn't want to leave him alone.
"Right. Here, why don'tcha get on. It'll be faster," she said, and offered her hand. Hopefully Maple would leave him alone long enough to make that possible. "What'd ya do before ya lost yourself out here, anyway? Roll around in honey or something? I've never seen her act like that."
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"Yes! I would love to!" Thank Heaven. He would have trudged on foot through the desert with her in search of those stupid cattle, but now he didn't have to! His sore feet and shaking legs could use a rest.
He stowed the empty soda can in his rucksack before mounting up. "No, animals just like me. What happened to your cows?"
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Once he'd settled in behind her, Bailey flicked the reins to get Maple moving. They were not, however, heading after the cows; Bailey turned them around and set them on a course straight for the ranch. Once he was settled in and seen to, and Maple rested, she'd head out again. There wouldn't be much point in it, but she didn't want to say she'd just given up. If there was a chance, she was gonna take it.
"There was a windstorm earlier. It spooked 'em, I guess, before we could get 'em all inside, and the rest's history. At this point, their chances are slim. Ain't much water out there, and what doesn't like beef?" She jerked a thumb behind her, pointing to her saddlebag.
"There's a canteen in there, by the way. Hydrate yourself."
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I don't like beef, he thought. Actually, he'd never had it. He avoided eating animal flesh—old habits.
"Ah. I don't have any power over the weather, unfortunately. Too earthly a thing, y'know?"
He didn't feel thirsty really, but she was the desert expert, not him, so he pulled the canteen out and took a generous swig. Over her shoulder, some distance away, structures loomed in the sand-swept air. "Isn't that where you live?"
They'd doubled back, following the trail she'd taken to get here.
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"What a shame." Bailey was glad her back was to him, because he couldn't see her face. Too...earthly? What, did he think he'd be able to manipulate it if it wasn't? What did that even mean? But she just nodded and made agreeable noises at him. Poor, dumb kid. She hoped his brain wasn't too fried.
"Yup," she confirmed, and once they reached the hill's summit, she nudged Maple into a swift trot down the hill, eager to get back. It was fortunate she hadn't gone very far before she'd run into him; Maple wouldn't have been able to safely carry two people very far in the heat.
"Now keep drinkin', but slowly. Little sips. Almost there, then we'll getcha all checked out, make sure everything's right, so hang tight back there, hear?"
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"Sure, whatever you say." He did as he was told and took another swig, though not a particularly little or slow one. She seemed to think he was more dehydrated than he really was. He hadn't actually been out there that long, only a couple of hours.
"What about your cows, though?"
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"What about 'em?" Bailey answered. They were close now, swiftly approaching the gates, and Bailey reined Maple in and swung down off her so she could get them open.
She took Maple by the reins so she could walk them inside and latch the gate behind them. "I'll search for 'em once we getcha inside and taken care of. Ain't much else to be done. Unless, of course, ya got some 'non-earthly' powers that'll help in that area."
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Yeah, he couldn't lie to himself. It was pretty nice riding this horse while she got down and lead it into the ranch. He hadn't realized how beat down he was. Hadn't let himself think about it because, until she showed up, he'd had no choice but to keep walking.
"Mm...nah. Nothing good for finding cows. I don't think I can help much beyond moral support. Oh!" He snapped his fingers. "I could lay a blessing on you and your horse. There's that."
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Bailey was rather proud of herself for keeping a neutral expression. Whatever heatstroke delusions he had, she was no professional or anything, but she'd heard some sorta psychobabble stuff before about how shattering someone's reality or whatever could cause like...mental breaks or something. So probably best to just play along until he had some rest, got hydrated, and came to his senses.
"A blessin'," she repeated, and then just shrugged. "Uh, sure. That's somethin'. What'll it do, exactly?"
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"Increases your luck basically. Makes random chance lean in your favor."
The dusty old ranch looked marginally more comfortable than the dusty old desert. Here, too, everything was covered in red. He would be so grateful to get out of the sun for awhile.
"You live here by yourself?"
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Oh boy.
Maybe it was mean, playing along like this, but she had to see this.
"Naw. Be awfully hard to run a ranch solo, don'tcha think? Even without the outlaw scum skulkin' about. Got some hired help. They're around," she said with a wave of her hand. She lead the way to the stables and hitched Maple up. Walking around to her side, she held a hand out to him; prissy city kid like him would be likely to fall off the horse.
"Anyway, 'bout this blessin', whatcha gotta do? I don't wantcha over-extertin' yourself, now."
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Even with her help, he sort of half climbed, half tumbled down off the horse. Sitting for awhile had made the fatigue creep up on him even moreso.
"I would just have to pray over you." After a beat he added more, in case it wasn't obvious yet. "I'm a priest."
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Bailey held onto him for a second longer than she needed to, that last proclamation freezing her with the sheer ridiculousness of it all. She swept her eyes over him, up and down and back, noting the crazy sword, the fancy city clothes.
"A priest," she said, and nodded once. "Of course you're a priest." With a light laugh, she added with a shake of her head, "Shall I get some water for ya to bless, Father?"
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Right. Of course he was a priest. What else would he be, right? This was a lot less irritating when he wore vestments and he didn't have to go around explaining himself all the time.
"I dunno," he said, leaning against the horse once he was off it. It was so much harder to stay upright after having sat down. "Do you even need holy water? It's got pretty specific applications."
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Of course he missed the sarcasm there.
"Golly, I dunno. I ain't the priest here," Bailey said, no longer even trying to make sense of anything. May as well play along--at the very least, she was getting a good story out of this. "So I wouldn't know all the applications and such, or what it's for, or if I need it."
She motioned for him to follow. "Now, for all this blessin' stuff, I don't gotta be like all religious or anything for it to work, do I?"
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He was beginning to think this woman wasn't taking him seriously.
"Uh huh. Given you're hunting cows and not demons, it probably wouldn't do you any good."
Lyric stumbled into motion after her. "No, just me. I'm interceding to Heaven on your behalf."
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Bailey paused and gave Lyric an odd look. "That's...very kind of ya," she said, and swallowed against the laugh that wanted to bubble up.
"While you're busy advocatin' or whatever, make sure to put a good word in for me, eh? For savin' your skinny hide. Us heathens need all the help we can get, you know."
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"Oh, I know. I've taken confession. Where are we going, and why aren't we there yet?"
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It took every ounce of self control not to roll her eyes right out of her head. "Don't they teach ya priestly types patience? Anyhow, we're headin' indoors 'fore ya keel over."
It wasn't a long walk to the farm house, and she broke ahead of him so she could head up the steps and open it up for him. "There. Weren't so bad, was it?"
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"They teach it, but I didn't learn it very well. Obviously."
Passing from the brilliant daylight into a dim interior blinded him with sun spots. He blinked and couldn't see much of anything in there just yet. "You sure you'll be all right out there alone?"
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Hravart had already made himself at home in his lovely wonderful niece's farm house, comfortably lounging on the couch, pants discarded already as was only natural when one makes themself at home. He felt no need to get up from his comfortable spot when he heard what could only be Bailey returning, made no motion to cover his light grey cotton boxers.
"Hey Bails I am gunna crash here tonight, ok babe?" He said stretching out more and closing his eyes.
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Bailey flashed him a look, one eyebrow raised and lip curled in an amused smile. "Me? Boy, I live here. I think I'm a heck of a lot more suited for this than--"
She froze as she stepped inside and caught sight of him, crashed out on her couch and practically naked! A bright blush rose to her cheeks and, with a small squawk, she slapped a hand over her guest's eyes.
"The heck ya doin'?! Put some gosh-darned clothes on, will ya! Jeez! Oh gosh, I'm so sorry, my uncle, he's...boy, this is embarrassin'..."
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Lyric caught a glimpse of someone else in the room, someone on the sofa, before the woman clapped a hand over his eyes.
"Uh...what's going on? Your uncle's not wearing clothes? Is he hot?"
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"No he's not hot!" Bailey snapped, hand still over the crazy kid's eyes. "He's my uncle! Don't be gross, mister holy warrior! Ain'tcha s'pposed to have purer thoughts than that?"
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"No, I paid penance for all my vices when I died the last time—look, it's involved, okay? Can I look yet?"
Could be she was wrong after all. Could be she only said he wasn't hot because he was a blood relation.
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"The last time ya--what?"
Bailey rubbed her head. Either the sun had really boiled his egg, or maybe he was just...genuinely... kind of crazy. She wasn't sure which anymore.
With an exasperated groan, she put her free hand on his arm, keeping her other hand over his eyes, and turned him around. "Just put some clothes on, will ya?" she told her uncle before she steered the stranger toward the kitchen. It was only then that she took her hand away.
"The heck was that all about?"
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Hravart had to admit, the back and forth between Bailey and this stranger was quite amusing. Highly amusing. He did however resent that Bailey could not bring herself to admit that he was exceptionally hot. Perhaps she was looking to keep this man all to herself? Tsk tsk. She needed to learn how to share! Begrudgingly he put on his tight black t-shirt and stepped over his jeans on the way into the kitchen. "Bailey you shouldn't lie about a man's undeniable sex appeal. Also why haven't you introduced us yet? I know you were raised better than this."
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The woman moved him...somewhere? A moment later he could see again and found himself in a kitchen.
"Uhh, shouldn't I be asking you that? He's your uncle—"
With his back turned, he heard rather than saw the man enter the kitchen behind him. He stayed obediently where he was and didn't turn to look, just in case she decided to blind him again. "Should I, um, stare at the ceiling, or...?"
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Bailey whirled around at the sound of Hravart's voice, and was relieved to see he had the decency to at least put on a shirt. No pants, still. Classy. "No, you're, uh...you're fine now. Good enough," she said, and scowled at her uncle.
"Uncle, no offense, but I ain't interested in discussin' your sex appeal. Now ya wanna explain yourself here? What's the big idea, crashin' on my couch without warnin'? Half naked at that!"
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Hravart grinned at Bailey "Come on baby girl you know I'm the hottest uncle you got. Besides Bails I'm broke and got no where to go, you gunna send your favorite uncle out into the wilderness? I brought you some cows sweetie so let me stay ok?"
He looked over at the strange guy with his back to him. "You still haven't introduced me to your cute friend..."
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Lyric spun, grinning, curious now who he was about to meet.
The uncle wasn't bad to look at, and Lyric didn't bother hiding that he was looking either. The guy called him cute so he figured it was an okay boundary to step over.
"I haven't introduced myself yet, actually. I'm Lyric." He extended a hand to the uncle. "Your niece found me in the desert."
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Bailey held up both hands as though to stave off her uncle's ramble. "Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. I ain't tossin' ya out, but ya gotta behave. My roof, my rules. And rule one is pants are a thing ya wear."
As soon as they'd made their introductions, she took her uncle by the arm and pulled him away. "Great, now you're acquainted! Lyric--wait, Lyric? Your name's Lyric? What kinda name's that?" It popped out before she realized how rude that was, and her face reddened. "Er, never mind! Alright, so we're all friends now. Now Uncle, for the love of all things, put on some pants!"
Anything to get those two separated.
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Hravart shook the other's hand. "Lyric huh? What a pretty name. I bet you make lovely music in bed." He said still wearing that cheeky grin. "Yer lucky Bailey here found ya, there are plenty of bandits in the desert who would have robbed ya blind or worse out there. Hell I probably would have had my way with you alrea-"
The last little inconsequential bit of his sentence was cut off by Bailey pulling him away. "Bails, boxers count as pants just fine. Besides are you implying dresses or skirts are prohibited? What a shame, and here I was hoping our fashionable new friend could get ya to dress more feminine."
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Lyric laughed, a little caught by surprise, and that happened with enough infrequency he the appreciated the opportunity to enjoy it. This guy did not know the meaning of the word subtle did he?
"Wait, bandits?"
Well, shit. He had been going to ask if maybe Hravart needed some help getting into his pants, but then the heralds of wickedness just had to trumpet their presence and he had to get all serious. "Where? You're not going out there where they might be?"
Bailey still had to go look for her cattle. He really thought he'd gotten out of that one, but maybe he should go along anyway?
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Bailey could have shriveled right up in mortification. This was why she didn't have guests when her uncle was around. She sank her face into her hand.
"I am so sorry ya had to hear that. I promise he's not actually a sexual predator, even if he certainly talks like one," she said, leveling a glare at Hravart. "And I promise he's not really a ragin' misogynist even if he has some real weird ideas about what a frontierswoman workin' with stinkin' dirty cattle should be wearin'." Another pointed glower.
She gave him a shove toward the guest bedroom. "Now put on some pants, skirts, dress, whatever! Somethin' where nothin's in danger of flappin' on out."
And then, turning to Lyric, she let out a long-suffering sigh. "Of course I'm goin' out where they might be."
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Hravart was unceremoniously shoved in the direction of the guest room and grumbled about it but he finally obliged his niece by putting on some skin tight jeans with suspenders just to give her the added protection of his pants not falling down and bits flopping out. Though, his bits were particularly nice to look at. Also suspenders looked sexy. He returned moments later though.
"Whoa whoa why is everyone suddenly in a rush to leave me? Do I need to take my pants back off to get you two ta stay?"
Lyric seemed preoccupied with the idea of bandits and well 90% of the time Hravart just didn't understand Bailey at all.
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Lyric smiled, looking between the two of them. They were certainly family, no mistaking that. He could have guessed it even if Bailey hadn't told him.
By the time Hravart joined them again, Lyric had already decided what he should do.
"Don't worry, I'm not fit to go anywhere. Well, good luck Bailey!"
Of course he intended to go after her as soon as she left. This was way easier than arguing with her about it, though.
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"NO!" Bailey said, wheeling around on Hravart. "Keep. Them. On. Also, you're comin' with me. I don't trust ya alone with him."
She was a little surprised at how easily Lyric agreed to stay put after all his fussing, but maybe now he was out of the sun, he was finally coming to his senses. She motioned toward the kitchen.
"Help yourself, Lyric. There's tea in the fridge. Snacks. Bread and sandwich stuff. Plenty of things to munch on. Feel free to kick back on the couch and take a nap or somethin', alright? We'll be back shortly, so stay out of trouble."
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Naturally, Lyric didn't stay behind. He tracked Bailey from a good distance away. Which wasn't to say he knew anything about tracking, or about being stealthy, but he kept her mostly in sight and tried to make sure he didn't put his silhouette against the horizon.
Eh, even if she saw him, so what?
It wasn't until they'd been out there an hour that things began to get interesting. They were in some kind of...rock shard forest. Jacket spears of stone jutted up out of the otherwise flat landscape, obscuring the far distance and giving him a chance to get closer to her without being seen...or so he hoped.
Getting seen by Bailey wasn't his worry, though. No, that would be the cloud of dust kicking up in a line not far away from them. Something was moving over there, moving toward Bailey, and the rocks obscured any line of sight he might get of whatever it was.
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Unfortunately, Bailey was completely unaware of the thing coming toward her. She was on horseback and her back was turned to it, upwind of the disturbance so the dust blew away from her, rather than toward her.
And she had no reason right then to glance behind her, for she'd caught sight of her missing cow as it grazed lazily on the scraps of some dead plant.
With a sigh and a shake of her head, Bailey trotted her horse toward it and prepared her lasso, ready to toss it over the cow's head, as right behind her, just out of her sight, the thing broke through the ground.
It was the cracking of earth that made her turn--
Only to come face to face with a beast with too many legs and snapping pincers, translucent green liquid dripping from its gaping maw.
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Hravart had veered off from Bailey as they figured it was faster and more efficient if they covered more ground, but when he saw the dust cloud heading Bailey's way he made haste to her side, galloping past Lyric who he had realized awhile ago had been following them.
Fuck. He halted his horse a bit behind Bailey and aimed his pistol at the beast. "Get down!" He shouted at his niece.
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Get down she did.
Or rather, she was thrown down.
Her horse let out a whinny of panic and reared, and Bailey was so struck by the horror of it all that she didn't have the time or sense to hold on until it was too late. With a startled cry, she tumbled from the saddle as the horse bolted and had one brief, panicked thought of, Oh please don't let my foot get caught in the stirrups.
It didn't, and she landed with a thud on her back, gasping in shock and pain--and then horror when she realized just how bloody close she was to that monster.