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Whatever Happens, Happens [M][Draco]

Started by Lowen Thorn, April 18, 2018, 04:25:21 PM

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Lowen Thorn

@Draconian

Amaya hung midair for what felt like a lifetime. He had no control over his body as he fell to his likely death, surrounded by broken shards of glass. Being pierced through the shoulder with a blade and then flung out of a second story window will do that to you. But damn! He was so close this time. And now he was going to... die? It was like watching a bad dream he would never wake up from. Just dropping, falling, floating. How did this happen?

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EARLIER
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"And so was the legend of Amaya Midgar: ex-gang member, fearsome bounter hunter, and... cat whisperer."

The bounty hunter sat idly in the shadows of a closed off alley, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, but this damn cat. Where did it even come from? Just hopped in his lap at a critical time of concentration just to give him an itchy nose. Despite his obvious distaste, his new feline "friend" didn't stop giving nuzzles and love that Amaya didn't deserve.

"Come on, little guy," he said in a whisper. "You'll blow my cover."

Meow.

"You don't say," he responded quietly as he watched the outer footsteps in the streets ahead of him. It had been some time since the man has been in Serendipity, and word on the streets is that his old gang had taken up residence in Selevea, with one old comrade typically patrolling this area.

Meow!

"I don't really like you either, but there's no need to get an attitude. Wait," he stopped, shaking his head. "Why am I talking to a ca-"

Chomp.

Son of a-. The cat bit him. He actually bit him!

"Out of here you little shit!" he scowled, shoving him away.

The cat darted down the alley and back into the open, slipping through the legs of someone who turned heel at the sound of Amaya's scolding voice.

"Well, if it isn't..."

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PRESENT
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'Oh yeah, the cat. Then what?'

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EARLIER
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Amaya was in the second floor of an old abandoned building, lit only by the glimmer of daylight pouring through the windows. He was surrounded by several men, his old gang, and had already taken a rather severe beating up to that point when another man, the obvious ring leader, stepped forward.

"Been a long time, Rune. You look like shit," Amaya said, a grin almost sneaking onto his face until it was met with the opposing man's fist. Being knocked a little off balance, the bounty hunter spit blood from his mouth and took a moment before glaring back at his old comrade. "That was a little uncalled for.. and here I was expecting a hug and a pint of ale."

"Save the theatrics," Rune cut in sharply.

He was a taller man, even taller than Amaya - standing a few inches over him. His long silver hair fell down below his shoulders and around his pale face. He looked tired, but that was just the look of a man drained from the power quest of his own self-absorbed version of justice. He wore all black and carried a long, skinny masamune sword - similar to the one the bounty hunter sometimes used.

"You were doing fine hiding away in that little swamp of yours in Thanatos," Rune began, lifting his weapon. "You should have stayed there. What did you hope to accomplish by coming back?"

"Oh, I'd never forgive myself if I didn't visit my old frie-"

He was interrupted again with another punch, this time to the stomach from another member of Rune's gang.

"Bastard," Amaya grimaced.

"Tell me then, friend. Have you come back to die?"

"You can only kill a man so many times, Rune."

"Then stay dead this time!"

Without hesitation, Rune drove his sword through the bounty hunter, and shortly after released him with a firm kick to the chest.

Shit. He was going to die. He was so shocked by the piercing of the blade that he did not feel the glass as he broke through it on his way out.

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PRESENT
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'Oh yeah. So that's how. Well, whatever happens, happens.'

Amaya was knocked out cold the moment his body hit the ground.

Draconian

It had started out as a nice late afternoon stroll. Doeshe trailed behind her like a puppy.

Sharlee had recently returned from a bout of merchanting. An occupation born of boredom rather than necessity. A lovely elven looking woman, Sharlee was average height, long purple hair, rosy skin and brilliant purple eyes. Hardly anything unusual for a place like Serendipity but in her fine silks from travels and various outfits picked up from lands afar, Sharlee still managed to stand out. Tired and sore from her travels Sharlee was wandering to unwind and get used to the city again, she always missed it when she was gone.

Wanderlust always got the better of her and there was always another adventure waiting around the corner.

Which was true everywhere apparently.

There on the ground, a man.

"Oh, Kia," Sharlee said, voice hushed and breathy. Was he dead? Surely he was dead. Drunk?

"Doeshe," She said softly, looking at the lumbering boy who meandered forward to huff at the hair of the injured person before he glanced over his shoulder and blinked at her with his big doe eyes.  Sharlee rushed forward, hands out, moving to the strangers face to cup his cheeks, pressing against his neck to look for a pulse. Her hands pushed his shirt aside and gasped when she saw the wound, frowned at the glass and looked up to the window. Just what had gone on?

"I need you to wake up," Sharlee said, moving a hand to his cheek. She was no mage. No healer. "Sir?" She pat his cheek gently while Doeshe nudged his nose against the strangers leg, "Sir, wake up."


Lowen Thorn

The Brotherhood never came to collect Amaya's body after they tossed him out of the window. No normal man could survive what they just put him through, much less that fall, and they were satisfied enough to disperse shortly after.

But Amaya was not a normal man. He was stubborn and hard-headed to a fault, and he wouldn't go down that easily. There could be no way of knowing how long he laid out on the cobbled-stone road, and he probably would've been there indefinitely until he heard something, slipping him out of unconsciousness.

It was a woman's voice, and he could feel hands on his face. Not only that, but-

Meow.

That damn cat was back! Probably there to get the last laugh at ol' Amaya since the last time they parted ways.

He tried to open his eyes, but couldn't, and a weak breath escaped his lips. His head hurt too much. His body hurt too much. Everything hurt too much and everything felt broken. He made a low growl as  he strained to move, and blinding white sprawled across his vision as his lids slowly slid up.

Finally, the blur settled, and he saw the woman hovering over him.

"Oh my gods," he muttered in a graveled whisper. "I've died and gone to the heavens." He tried for a smile, and almost a laugh, but a wince overtook his face quickly as pain rippled throughout every muscle in his body. His eyes trailed down, and that's where he saw the little dragon nudging at his legs, giving him a scare.

"Shit. Never mind, I'm in hell. That makes more sense."


Draconian

"Don't move just yet!" Sharlee said quickly, hands on his shoulders.

"Doeshe won't hurt you," she said quickly, waving her hand so the dragon would back off. Doeshe wasn't a tiny dragon, well, perhaps he was tiny for a dragon. Still a baby, the size of a pony. He was white in colour and scale and had two unassuming horns on his head and two big floppy ears. Sweet innocent blue eyes that looked from Sharlee to the wounded man curiously. He leaned forward to nudge with his nose again but Sharlee shoo'd him away.

"Can you move at all?" She said, lifting her head and looking up and around because maybe someone was nearby to finish this all off. Last thing the little elven woman wanted was for all this to go worse and for her to get killed too. "I can't lift you onto Doeshe and I fear I can't help you if you're caught by the guards," Sharlee moved more so she was kneeling, hands on the man's shoulders, "I can tend to you at home but all we have to do is get you onto Doeshe."

It would be a lie if she said she wasn't curious about what happened and wanted to know more. The only way to do that was to shuffle the poor injured man into her home and hire doctors to tend to him. Stupid but... Maybe she could help. "I just need to get you upright and then Doeshe can do the rest. It'll hurt, but this is better than being put in jail."

Lowen Thorn

"Jail?"

The man moved to sit upright, but a jolt of pain shot through his back and he collapsed back down to his previous position. He sighed and closed his eyes, his face in a grimace and his natural sun-bitten tone rather pale. "Why would I go to jail?" he asked softly, almost slipping back into unconsciousness as the sun bared down on his face.

His mind raced in chaos, and the feeling in his limbs mirrored it. He opened his eyes once again to look on the woman. He wasn't going to refuse the kindness of stranger, especially since she seemed intent on getting him off the streets and back to good health, but damn it all if that didn't seem impossible.

"I think I can do it," he finally managed to say, his fist and teeth clenching as he pushed himself through agony and to an upright position.

After what felt like a lifetime of internal struggle, he was sitting up, panting and eyes darting around. No sign of Rune and the others, just the woman and her dragon, and...

Meow.

The little cat from earlier purred at his feet, nuzzling at the tip of his boot.

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