Post by Lady on Jun 2, 2010 13:37:32 GMT -5
//Profiles, because I can: 1 2 \\
A roar sounded from somewhere in the vast grayness and chesnut ears immediately pricked towards the sounds. What kinds of beasts were hiding out here, behind the remains of buildings and piles of debris? The owner of the ears pranced nervously in place at the thought, swinging his rump around and bumping his companion who stumbled forward, fluttering her wings to regain her balance.
“Watch it,” Karson said, her irritated voice slightly muffled by the gas mask she was wearing. “If you make me fall into this toxic shit I’ll rip you a new one.” The horse she called her partner pinned his ears back and frowned.
“Well forgive me for being nervous,” he said, “I usually try to avoid desolate wastelands where things that could eat me for lunch live.” The horse, a wiry gelding by the name of Gus, was wearing a gas mask as well, though his was a bit more oddly fashioned. It had been specially made to cover his entire muzzle, making it much wider and rounder than your standard gas mask. It was fastened to his head like a halter, looping around his ears and under his throatlatch. The mask gave him quite a comical look, like a war zone Mr. Ed.
“If you’re so nervous, why don’t you leave?” Karson asked, unstrapping her collapsible shovel from the pack on her back and walking a few feet to her right. Gus snorted, amused.
“And leave you here alone?” he scoffed, “What will you do if some beasty comes to eat you? Flutter away like a pixie?” He laughed and Karson extended her shovel, turning on her heel to smack him on the chest with it. He backed up and snorted at her, but she only smiled. Their relationship was a strange one, filled with fights and disagreement, but they both trusted each other with their lives.
Karson took off her gloves and knelt to the ground, hovering her hands above the ash. She could feel something under there, but she wasn’t sure if it was exactly what she was looking for. Nearly everything in the Wastes gave off magical vibes since they were all covered in toxic magic and had been for fifty years, but some gave off stronger signals than others. What she was feeling now was stronger than the vibes she’d been getting all day, leading her to think that she’d found what she’d come here for.
“You know what, Gus?” she said vaguely, putting her gloves back on and standing up, “I might have walked in this very place before the bomb.” She planted her shovel in the soft ash, scooping it up and depositing it away from her hole.
“Oh stop reminiscing and dig,” Gus said with an impatient tone, “We’ll be here all day if we sift through all your memories of this place.”
“I know,” she snapped, tossing a shovelful of ash over her shoulder at him. He dodged and snorted angrily at her again. “I was just thinking aloud.” He was right though; she had roughly 196 packed in her head, even though she only looked nineteen. Many years of that 196 had been spent in Errare, even though her family lived in Caedere. Errare had been a nice vacation spot for the family of three. Well not anymore. Now it was a home for vagrants and treasure hunters, a place where anyone with a noble background would never step foot on. Karson couldn’t blame them, it was a dingy wasteland with only bad memories and twisted creatures that had barely survived the bomb.
A barely perceptible clink from her shovel pulled her from her thoughts and she bent down, sifting through the ash with her gloved hands. What she pulled out made her smile behind her gas mask and dust it off excitedly. It was a human bone, most likely a part of a femur, scratched and grooved from the teeth of some monster that had chewed on it. The bone was loaded with magical capabilities, most of which were malicious. Poisoning, minor hex charms, you name it and bones from the Grey Wastes could do it. She’d had several witches come into her shop and ask for them lately.
“Well I found one,” she said, walking over to Gus and putting the bone in a bag attached to his circingle, “Now all I need is about ten more.” After closing the bag, she went back to digging, finding several more bones and shards. When half an hour had passes she planted her shovel in the ground and leaned against it, beginning to feel the strain of digging in her muscles. Her knee length breeches and tall boots were covered in the fine grit, and she could feel it in her short, dark hair.
“Can we go now?” Gus asked for perhaps the fiftieth time. The horse absolutely hated the Wastes. Karson, on the other hand, loved them. They were chock full of sellable things; hell, take a handful of ash and some human will buy it to curse an enemy.
“Hang on,” she said, picking up her shovel again, “I’m getting some bigger vibes.” She dug until she found the source of the magic waves, and it was big indeed. She turned, still crouched, toward Gus.
“Oh beautiful,” he said flatly, “You found a skull.” Karson only smiled. A human skull would sell for a fortune in her store!
“Jackpot,” she murmured as she knelt on the ground, holding the skull into the dim sun to examine it better.
A roar sounded from somewhere in the vast grayness and chesnut ears immediately pricked towards the sounds. What kinds of beasts were hiding out here, behind the remains of buildings and piles of debris? The owner of the ears pranced nervously in place at the thought, swinging his rump around and bumping his companion who stumbled forward, fluttering her wings to regain her balance.
“Watch it,” Karson said, her irritated voice slightly muffled by the gas mask she was wearing. “If you make me fall into this toxic shit I’ll rip you a new one.” The horse she called her partner pinned his ears back and frowned.
“Well forgive me for being nervous,” he said, “I usually try to avoid desolate wastelands where things that could eat me for lunch live.” The horse, a wiry gelding by the name of Gus, was wearing a gas mask as well, though his was a bit more oddly fashioned. It had been specially made to cover his entire muzzle, making it much wider and rounder than your standard gas mask. It was fastened to his head like a halter, looping around his ears and under his throatlatch. The mask gave him quite a comical look, like a war zone Mr. Ed.
“If you’re so nervous, why don’t you leave?” Karson asked, unstrapping her collapsible shovel from the pack on her back and walking a few feet to her right. Gus snorted, amused.
“And leave you here alone?” he scoffed, “What will you do if some beasty comes to eat you? Flutter away like a pixie?” He laughed and Karson extended her shovel, turning on her heel to smack him on the chest with it. He backed up and snorted at her, but she only smiled. Their relationship was a strange one, filled with fights and disagreement, but they both trusted each other with their lives.
Karson took off her gloves and knelt to the ground, hovering her hands above the ash. She could feel something under there, but she wasn’t sure if it was exactly what she was looking for. Nearly everything in the Wastes gave off magical vibes since they were all covered in toxic magic and had been for fifty years, but some gave off stronger signals than others. What she was feeling now was stronger than the vibes she’d been getting all day, leading her to think that she’d found what she’d come here for.
“You know what, Gus?” she said vaguely, putting her gloves back on and standing up, “I might have walked in this very place before the bomb.” She planted her shovel in the soft ash, scooping it up and depositing it away from her hole.
“Oh stop reminiscing and dig,” Gus said with an impatient tone, “We’ll be here all day if we sift through all your memories of this place.”
“I know,” she snapped, tossing a shovelful of ash over her shoulder at him. He dodged and snorted angrily at her again. “I was just thinking aloud.” He was right though; she had roughly 196 packed in her head, even though she only looked nineteen. Many years of that 196 had been spent in Errare, even though her family lived in Caedere. Errare had been a nice vacation spot for the family of three. Well not anymore. Now it was a home for vagrants and treasure hunters, a place where anyone with a noble background would never step foot on. Karson couldn’t blame them, it was a dingy wasteland with only bad memories and twisted creatures that had barely survived the bomb.
A barely perceptible clink from her shovel pulled her from her thoughts and she bent down, sifting through the ash with her gloved hands. What she pulled out made her smile behind her gas mask and dust it off excitedly. It was a human bone, most likely a part of a femur, scratched and grooved from the teeth of some monster that had chewed on it. The bone was loaded with magical capabilities, most of which were malicious. Poisoning, minor hex charms, you name it and bones from the Grey Wastes could do it. She’d had several witches come into her shop and ask for them lately.
“Well I found one,” she said, walking over to Gus and putting the bone in a bag attached to his circingle, “Now all I need is about ten more.” After closing the bag, she went back to digging, finding several more bones and shards. When half an hour had passes she planted her shovel in the ground and leaned against it, beginning to feel the strain of digging in her muscles. Her knee length breeches and tall boots were covered in the fine grit, and she could feel it in her short, dark hair.
“Can we go now?” Gus asked for perhaps the fiftieth time. The horse absolutely hated the Wastes. Karson, on the other hand, loved them. They were chock full of sellable things; hell, take a handful of ash and some human will buy it to curse an enemy.
“Hang on,” she said, picking up her shovel again, “I’m getting some bigger vibes.” She dug until she found the source of the magic waves, and it was big indeed. She turned, still crouched, toward Gus.
“Oh beautiful,” he said flatly, “You found a skull.” Karson only smiled. A human skull would sell for a fortune in her store!
“Jackpot,” she murmured as she knelt on the ground, holding the skull into the dim sun to examine it better.