There's dog crap on my shoe! >:[

Ykesha of Lynn · 01-27-2011, 03:11 AM

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Word count 1022 - 10 points

Ykesha’s unnerve was overwhelming. The lass had never been brave. When she was a child a scrape on the knee was enough to dissolve her to tears; insects had always been bizarre and terrifying. Even though Ykesha, her amnesia redefining her entire character, remembered nothing of this former lack of courage, she still was hunkered by the weight of her current fear. She could smell the infection the building emitted. The sounds which filtered through the walls like floating spirits of fog and smoke were unnatural. The fae’s ears often twitched at these, flicking forward and back with concern and worry. She was unaware of what lie ahead, and had little desire to find out. Yet she had already pledged herself to this stranger, to Niro, and though she was not a woman of courage she was a woman of obedience. If his bird had taken flight into Hades Ykesha still would have saddled up and followed. What a well trained monkey she’d turned out to be.

Still, crouched amongst the remains of the human society, Ykesha felt little drive to stand and advance down the darkened hall. Her spirits were not lifted by the light Niro now clutched in his fist--although she had to admit the lad was genus for crafting the torch from nothing. She surveyed him, her mind calculating the chances to small luperci had of navigating the unknown, of locating a bird whose dark hues would blend with the rusty, sour-iron of the building they found themselves in. Her heart became disquieted and in this pessimism the white woman turned her worried face back to the ground splattered with remnants of the long dead former occupants. For an office building, the place showed incredible signs of struggle. Ykesha’s white eyes danced along the broken marble floors, collecting the evidence of past conflicts. Two knives lay bent and chipped amongst the rotting papers; one had embedded itself in the side of a filing cabinet. A broken wine bottle with menacing edges lay near that and Ykesha had the distinct impression that at one time this innocent object had been harnessed as a weapon. She deftly reached out to it and turned the green bottle with her uninjured hand’s fingertips. The label was washed over with something dark and wet--either water or a human’s blood.

What had happened here?

Ykesha tried to imagine a world pitched so dramatically in chaos. The people who hid out in this office building had probably come here for records. She couldn’t read the hieroglyphic print the humans wrote in but the number of filing cabinets suggested to her that this had once been a firm responsible for taxes or property management. When the delicate bridge that held society together buckled from the weight of thousands of persons stampeding in panic, many had obviously fought in this very space for the documents now strewn like ants across the floor. Ykesha’s white eyes narrowed as she took in the value of the crumpled sheets underfoot. Why fight for the proof of ownership to land the government no longer held? Only a fool fights for a castle while it burns down around him. The fae wanted to shake her head but found the action improper, perhaps, inhuman. Although she hadn’t come across any skeletons, she was sure several people were killed in this space - most likely their remains had been drug away by shrunken and withering scavengers by now - and although their actions deserved mocking, it seemed an unfit task to perform. The brindled body instead took to further looting the floor-space, dexterous nails lightly picking up all manner of interesting objects in hope for a tool against the unknown which she was about to travel. The dull glint of something beneath an upturned desk satisfied this need rather efficiently.

Originally the small flash of silver caught the fae off guard. She paused, fingers still resting against the twisted metal drawer she’d been filing through. Her bright eyes fell on the sweet grey color, licking over it with curious consideration. It was a gun, large and abrasive in shape. Its sheen was dull from disuse but its location beneath a desk had kept it from gathering dust. The effect was strange. The weapon’s silver body seemed to glow with the low intensity of the ocean. The woman saw waves roll across its hoary body, saw silver fish flash like mirrors as they circled beneath the surface. Ykesha became entranced, bold eyes staring unblinkingly at the smooth, lethal structure as though afraid it would bolt like a mouse if she stole her glance away. The moments of her fascination seemed to stretch into minutes, and with silence and reluctant desire, the fae stretched out her wounded hand to gently wrap around the gun where it lay unused across the floor. Her arm shook unnaturally. With a delicacy known only to mothers who cradle their precious children, the fae steadily drew the gun from its years of rest. Ykesha’s lungs drew tight as she withdrew her hand, now firmly grasped about the metal handle, to her breast. She nestled it there, her prize against the darkness, although there seemed to radiate a certain darkness from the machine she’d claimed amongst the wreckage.

Still, Ykesha found little desire to put the gun down.

With legs stiff from kneeling the brindled lass stood and turned her face to look at Niro. His torch blazed brilliantly against the rust of his background. The bright orange illuminated the youth of his face and the sharp emerald of his confident eyes. Ykesha felt comforted in this; if her zeal failed at least Niro’s seemed endless. “Let’s go, then,” her weak voice cooed as the cold weapon chilled her sternum beneath her fur. Mindful of the shattered glass underfoot, the woman moved closer to him, her eyes distant and worried over the upcoming task. Yet whether her mind wandered farther down the hallway or continued to circle the room the two luperci now stood in, she felt herself drawn back to the pistol clutched within her chilled fingers.

I’m up to my neck.

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