Rhapsody and Fiachra (AIM session)
Rhapsody awakens. She is naked. There is great pain. The flesh of her stomach is only partially knitted together. Bright blood leaks from the seams where once her body was nearly seperated in halves. Her toes and legs tingle. Breathing hurts.
The rough ground on which she lays is uneven. She can feel twigs and sharp object poking into her shoulders and neck. The smell of green forest leaks into her conscious and birds chirp somewhere nearby. She lies in a small clearing near a trickling stream. Majestic oaks and other broad leafed trees block out most of the setting sun.
Rhapsody raises her head to look around to get a sense of where she's at, as well as listening for anyone else that may be around.
She gets the sense that she's deep in the wilderness. There's no sounds but the quiet of nature, no background hum of man that comes even in a large park. Though she's not in feral form her senses are still sharp. She smells the lingering traces of Him and a stronger odor from a nearby tree. A marking. He isn't present.
Rhapsody moves to a sitting position, as much out of stubbornness as testing to see where her healing is at and what her body will handle.
It's agony. She nearly reaches a sitting position before the world spins and she sinks back to the earth, falling into darkness.
When she wakes again its too the orange glow of a small fire. The pain is still there but not quite as severe. Her bones ache fiercely. Turning her head she sees the young teen from the pool sitting close by, roasting a large chunk of spitted flesh over the fire. The firelight reflects from her inhuman eyes. She's dirty and naked too, though it doesn't seem to bother her in the least.
Rhapsody raises her head again, having the look of irritation that felines are well known for. She tries sitting up again.
This time she manages it, though there's still ample pain. The girl turns her head at the motion and smiles, but does nothing else.
"There a reason we're out here, or did you decide a change a scenery would be nice?"
Fiachra flips the meat causing red juice to dribble and drip into the flames. "The unpleasant aroma of man." She said man like others might say garbage. "It offended me."
"And I'm still alive, why?"
"Do you crave the alternative?"
"I neither crave it nor fear it... call it curiosity..." she smirks.
A slight tilting of her head, like she's giving your comment some thought, then. "You are hungry. I believe your stomach is healed enough, you should eat." She profers the meat, only barely cooked, toward Rhapsody. Upon smelling the blooded flesh Rhapsody realizes that her pain was masking a hunger. She suddenly wonders how long she was unconscious for.
Rhapsody does have a stubborn pride about her, but she is also practical. She takes the meat and does start to eat it so her body has fuel to pump up her healing. "You didn't answer my question," she notes.
"I answer what questions I wish, when I wish." Fiachra smiles as she/he/it? says this. Where before the voice had been one to match the teen form now it sounds deeper, a bit more throaty and monstrous.
The change seems to mildly upset the Atlantean Lord. "Why those fools chose an immature female I will never know." These words are also spoken in the deep voice. "I will answer you though. I kept you alive for company. After thousands of years of solitude I chose not to endure any more of it."
"And just perhaps because I didn't wish to take any more lives..."
"Oh no? You certainly seemed to get off on it."
"To... get off on it. Ah yes, an expression this host did know." Fiachra smiles. "Is not the baby joyous in its birth, though it causes those around him blood, pain and hardship? It was not their deaths that I revelled in Rhapsody but my rebirth. I am thankful to those that died so that I might live again."
Rhapsody finishes eating, "So you are equating yourself to a child that didn't know better at the time. Interesting how you Atlantean lords give the same spiel..."
Fiachra tenses for a moment. "You are... familiar with we Atlanteans?"
"Familiar enough to be irritated."
"How came you and your band to the place of my rebirth?"
Though Fiachra still looks the girl, the voice and presence comes across as extremely masculine, as if the girl is but a delicate shell that might peel away from the beast at any moment. His question is asked casually but Rhapsody senses an intense interest in her answer.
Rhapsody tries to shift to tiger form, mostly to be more comfortable and to heal faster. Either way, by voice or by thought, she answers, "The rebirthing event seems to have garndered attention, in the way of the sacrifices that were called and clues left. Considering the general consensus of 'whatever causes that much death in its wake for a rebirth is not a good thing', there were plans made of stopping it. which, evidently, did not happen."
Fiachra shakes his head as Rhaps attempts the change. "I have suppressed your beast for the time being. I somehow thought you might be better company in your weaker form. Besides, even with the meat, you are very weak. You would have died had I not already shared my power to sustain you."
At her words he replied. "Evidently."
"Tell me, what other Atlantean Lords have you met?"
"Chereshe."
The light in Fiachra's eyes intensifies, as if drawing the flame within them. He hisses, "Alithel mog'hras uin Chereshe!"
"He sent you against me?"
"Again, with the whole: considering the general consensus of 'whatever causes that much death in its wake for a rebirth is not a good thing', we were teaming up to stop that from happening as you seem to have a bad rep... compounded by the killings that were being investigated. Then again, Chereshe is a manipulative little bastard."
"Yes, that he is, though it ill suits you to speak with such direspect of your betters. The fact that you were not taken in by his manipulations tells me that he has not been summoned long."
"Right, when I meet my 'betters', I'll give them their due respect, as I did to the Elk Brother."
Fiachra seems lost in thought before continuing. "However long our... relationship lasts, remember that I will not play manipulative games with you Rhapsody Avendi. I am power uncorrupted by morality or mercy. I am the perfection of flesh, the epitomy of the supremecy of the beast." The body stands as Fiachra continues to speak, slowly shedding layers of skin like a snake. "I am Fiachra, beholden to but one and you would do well to call me friend..."
The change is something like a feral's, only smoother. Instead of the beast that wrecked such destruction on Rhapsody and the others at the asylum a graceful man stands before the fire when the metemorphosis is complete. As she watches Fiachra's hair grows long and silver. He is perfectly muscled and stands seven feet tall.
Rhapsody nods once, "At this point, I'm close to just walking away and letting you Atlanteans have each other..."
Fiachra, in his new, still naked, Atlantean form stalks around the fire. He seems more full of himself now, more confident even. To Rhapsody's last comment he replies, "You remind me of myself ages ago. For that fact alone I wish walking away was still an option for you Rhapsody Avendi."
He stops at her feet. The fact that both are naked should be awkward, but both are so comfortable and unaware of the fact that it isn't.
"I am still willing to help you find him you know..."
Rhapsody smiles, though it's not a friendly expression as much as it is a showing of teeth. "I'm more true to my beast side.... I'm a solitary hunter in this."
"You don't wish to be beholden to me is more the truth." He turns and walks to the edge of the firelight. "Tell me more of your dealings with Chereshe."
Several sets of glowing eyes reflect the light of the fire in the shadows beyond the clearing. Coyotes perhaps.
"I do not like being beholden to anyone." She glances at the eyes passively. "Evidently he is also impressed with my band's innovation in finding him."
"Chereshe is a schemer. Why destroy an enemy when you can make them an ally? He was always the subtle one. Tell me, how did he come to be summoned?"
"I imagine similiar to you: Artifact, sacrifice, vessel, and the ritual."
"Yes, but not the book-" Here he looks as if he just remembered it. -"The book! Your allies back in the man city have it. Ah well, it will have to be retrieved. In due time." He takes a step toward the darkness and the animals scatter without a sound. He grins and turns back. "Who summoned him? With what artifact?"
"Still rather fuzzy on who summoned him and 'twas some sort of pyramid that I recall seeing."
He nods. "What do your people know of the Baal? of my culture and people?
You realize that you are extremely thirsty as well. Your mouth is dry.
"Nothing...." She looks around for water.
There's the trickling stream about ten paces away.
"Nothing at all? But surely you jest. Our great people, who traversed the planes of existence have been forgotten by all?"
Rhapsody starts to move towards the water. "I do not jest. Atlantis is a myth to this world now."
He shakes his head and watches your pained attempt to reach the water with mild interest. "And what of the gifted in your society? Who rules your petty cities?"
Rhapsody doesn't ask for help, nor does she expect it. "Magic is disbelieved. Gifted and those touched by the supernatural are also myths to the mundane people of the world."
Fiachra stands. "Hard to believe, but then there are many things in this time that are hard to believe. I am still hungry. I'll get us more food. You rest."
The words seem to register in a feral part of Rhapsody's brain. She finds that she can't resist them and is growing tired. He smiles as if he can feel her struggling to disobey his words. She falls asleep as he transforms into great beast and stalks out of the camp.
Some time later she awakens to the cold. It is still dark, though it feels closer to dawn. The fire has long since burnt out. Her belly pains her but not nearly like it did before.
There's no sign of Fiachra.
Rhapsody lies quietly for awhile before sitting up. She attempts a change and finds she is still unable to transform. Another few minutes and she stumbles to her feet. The pain is worse but it doesn't prevent her from a shuffling walk. Naked and alone, she heads off into the dense forest. At least attempting to escape.
She finds an animal trail and makes a little better time, though she quickly begins to tire. Maybe two hours after journey started she's circumventing a wide patch of briars when she hears a terrible roar from the direction she came from. Fiachra must have noticed she was gone.
The fear inspired by that roar gives her a surge of energy and she was moving down the trail with more speed now. She was surprised when she felt the tingle of the change. Maybe distance or time has loosened Fiachra's power over her. A few limping strides and she is a beautiful tiger loping through the pine and broad leafed forest. Two miles further on and she's completely healed of the mortal wound that hampered her.
There are more roars a little closer and she takes off with more speed. literally gliding through the heavy undergrowth. Moving down a stream and over a patch of bare rock seems to help as Fiachra's roars grow more distant. The forest canopy is so thick that she's guessing he can't fly to catch her, for fear of losing her scent trail.
Several hours later, exhausted and sore, the tiger stumbles through a heavy shrub and lands on a paved road. Picking a direction at random she moves off along the side of the highway, ducking into the bushes when cars go by. Another half hour of this finds her at a out of the way gas station and general store. A pickup in the parking lot looks rather inviting and she's barely conscious, having used up all and more of her energy.
She transforms, climbs into the back and pulls an old tarp and a wooden crate of supplies over her and passes out.
When she wakes its to the sound of traffic. She peeks over the edge and finds that she's at the end of a small line of cars waiting at a traffic light. Making her sore muscles work, she heaves herself over the side and heads down an alley.
Twenty minutes later she's in a phone booth calling Sherri's number. It's raining. She's in a small town north of Northport on the Canadian border. She's naked and fingering a deep scar across her belly that travels almost all the way around her. She thinks with some humor that at least it'll be covered by her underwear.
"Hi, Sherri, its me. Yeah, I'm okay, Can you come get me?"
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