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Offline Shades of Gray

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Grey Feathers
« on: May 28, 2009, 11:46:32 AM »
Along a narrow deer's path, down a steep slope and just after the earth began to level out was a clearing. Leaves from over the years in a variation of decay provided a soft blanket to cover the ground, but the rains weighed them down and softened their bodies so that very little wrestled if stepped upon. In the center of this clearing sat the Roman Tree, the oldest in the forest, said to have existed just as long as the lost Empire had, and now it's gnarled roots ran so deep it was thought that the tree itself gave life to the forest. Her wide, bandy arms stretched far and wide, twisting and weaving through the air as if mimicking a long forgotten dancer. It's leaves were rich in color, the wood hard as stone, and not a scratch made by the hands of man seemed to mar it's beauty.

But the animals and the wind left this clearing alone. Birds twittered nearby but flew over the Roman tree to land on the firs on the other side of the clearing. Deers walked around the opening to get to the other side, and even the moles and burrowing creatures didn't stray close. Time moved on, but everything within stopped in anticipation, sensing things with instincts as old as the trees.

A wind picked up; wrestling and kicking at the fallen leaves on the clearing's floor. The branches and twigs up high in the forest surrounfing didn't so much as shiver, even as the wind increased, causing leaves to cyclone and lift. Like butterflies they undulated and wrythed, bundling closer and closer together until the great Roman moaned. Wood popped and the great arms began to move, one lowering towards the earth, the other twisting and stretching out like a hand for the surface. The groan rose higher this time, the deep bass rumbling in the chests of the animals near by before they were sent bolting in either direction. Quicker still the leaves began to whip in the air, tearing at each other until they were nothing but dust, and finally, as if the tree itself had gave off a great sigh, the wind shifted, and the broken leaves were taken to the West, drifting away like falling ash.

A thump disturbed the silence of the forest, followed quickly by a coughing gag as the old magics burned through a body no longer accustomed to such things. With tearing eyes, burning veins and a nausia that threatened to turn her insides backwards, the shape shifted on the ground, and heaved black icore from the dark magics that brought her here.


The world had a fuzzy haze around everything; her mind struggled to make sense of something as simple as a rock or leaf simply lying there before her. The smallest of shifts brough vertigo wheeling through her world, and unable to steady herself, Marion stumbled on hands and knees before crashing back onto her stomach in the middle of the forest. The deep rumbling of the tree was much like a preditorial cat, not quite pleased with the violator in her land but it was even less pleased with the dark taint that covered her. Like an oil, black and sleek it clung to her skin, suffocating the woman's lungs as she stumbled forward, blind and numb, searching for clean air. The tree stretched again, feeling pitty as it's long limb tapped the woman, possitioning her in the right directions. She squeaked and gagged still, releasing more of the vile black ichor until she reached the end of the clearing.

The slope, from here, continued down at a sharp angle. Marion hadn't time to brace herself, and her current state of mind was numb confusion, leaving her body to run on instincts alone. In an ungraceful heap she rolled down the base of the hill, where it tossed her into the wide mouth of a creek that was as cold as ice. The shock helped to clear her mind, and gasping from where her head had slipped under, she found it easier now to breathe. The water cleansed the black magic from her skin, like paint it began to bead off and follow the flow of the stream until it dissapeared from sight. Marion was coughing again, but breathing easier, and all signs of the witches' taint that brought her here washed away in the flow of the Roman's water.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Offline Firefly23

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #1 on: June 02, 2009, 01:37:00 PM »
The peace of the forest was violently disrupted by the whooping and hollering of a band of six men, racing through the trees.  They were closely pursued by an additional five men, three having managed to keep their mounts, while the other two staggered behind on foot.  Here, the trees grew together so closely, those on horseback were almost more inconvenienced than those on foot.  Those ahead, still making quite the racket, wove in and out of the trees, sometimes doubling back to throw rocks or fire arrows at their pursuers.  While clearly not seeking to kill their pursuers, they were acheving their goal of antagonizing them into continued chase.  Otherwise, the guards likely wouldn't have been foolish enough to chase the men into territory that they were clearly more familiar with.

All six of the "prey" were wearing loose, rough-woven cotton garments in shades of green and brown, helping them blend into their surroundings.  It made watching them something of an optical illusion; one moment they were here, the next they were there.  It took little effort to lead the guards into circles.  One man, with motled brown hair and wearing a felted green hat, let out a loud whoop before leaping down from the branches of a tree onto the back of a confused and frustrated stallion.  The added weight, not to mention the sudden arrival of said weight, panicked the horse, and he reared back, throwing both riders off into the brush.  The young man who had leapt onto the horse skittered forward, tackling the guard, who was taken by surprise.  He didn't have time to reach for his knife, and so had to resort to wrestling through the thick loam. 

A ring had been formed around them, the men in green keeping the guards from entering the battle to save their compatriot.  It was over within moments, when the man with the hat rolled off of the guard, snatched up his fallen hat, and took off into the shadows, throwing taunts over his shoulder.

Something in this action seemed to be a signal, for all of a sudden, the forest fell quiet, and the men in green faded into the shadows, leaving the guards exhausted and confused.  There was no sign of the men they had been chasing; the birds were silent, waiting for an indeterminant period of time before cautiously beginning their song again.  Looking to each other for guidance, finally, the man kneeling in the leaves and bleeding from a shallow cut in his forehead spat a long, angry curse before rising and motioning for the guards to follow.

From their positions in the surrounding trees, the men sputtered quietly, waiting until they could no longer see the guards before bursting into full, raucus laughter.  They rolled out of the trees, gathering around their friend, Robin.  All of them were beaming, sweating profusely as they congratulated each other on their success.  After a few moments, Robin finally raised his hands, quietly the celebration.  "Yes, yes, a fine job, gentlemen.  And a not unfortunate take on those men, either."  He patted a fat purse hanging from his belt, clearly enjoying the clinking sound it made as it moved.  "But we must return, now, before the womenfolk begin to fret."

"They're already fretting, Robin, and you know it," said a deep bass.  Turning, Robin smiled up at Little John, patting him on the shoulder.

"All the more reason to hurry, then, friend.  Come, let us return and see what may be had for dinner."  Together they set off to the west, the man taking the rear checking behind to ensure they were not being followed.

The sounds of the creek off to their left drew the men in that direction, hoping for a quick wash before returning home.  Just before the creek came into view, there was a sharp whistle from the man in the rear. Instantly, all of the men ducked back, hiding behind trees.  Unfortunately, Robin was too slow, and their tracker, one of the guards, spotted him, and headed straight for him.  Cursing, Robin stepped out to meet him, whistling sharply to indicate and instant disbersal of the men, directing them home.  Crouching down, Robin caught the man about the middle as he ran towards him, grunting as the force drove him backwards and down the hill.

Together, they rolled over and over, finally bouncing down into the creek.  Robin crashed into something with more give than a rock, but less than a mud bank, and the guard flew over his head, landing with a hard splat onto a mud covered rock.  Dazed and confused, Robin rolled over to find himself staring down at the back of a woman's head.  "Good God!" he shouted, scooting away into the river.  The sounds of stirring behind him brought his attention back to a somewhat more pressing matter, and Robin quickly drew his knife, pointing it at the guard's eye.  "Hold still, you.  I've no patience for you now.  Make one move, and you won't make another.  Do we have an understanding?"

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Offline Shades of Gray

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #2 on: June 02, 2009, 08:15:26 PM »
Marion didn't remember much; just the sickening pull that started in her guts, and twisted until she felt as if her innards had been turned to mush by a hand far too large for her body. She remembered vertigo, which still effected her now, and a cold prickling at her skin while she collapsed towards the ground... and kept falling. She should have hit the ground; there should have been a hard thump as she crashed into hardwood. Jason Black, her partner in crime, should have still been shouting for '911' as he pushed off his swivel chair from his corner of the station. There should have been everything different from what she was experiencing now.

Confused, Marion pushed herself gasping from the water, blinking heavy drops from her lashes, and scanned the blurry, tilting scene of a stream before her. What? The water was cold, sending a shiver through her body but made her situation all the more real. Panic flashed through her mind, but instead of reaching hysterics she sucked in a deep breath of air; and turning to see a blur of green and brown flash before her; was plunged into the icy cold again. All the air she held was rushed from her lungs, causing bubbles to whip out and tickle her face, racing towards the surface that wasn't too far from the top of her hear. The icy cold with the mix of fading pain from her guts, mixed with the bolder hurt of no oxygen kept her from thrashing around like a fish on shore. The urge to reach the surface was still there, and this time she pushed with her numbing legs, towards the rocky edge of the creek that offered a short distance away from the fighting men; and a moment to brace herself, trying to suck in air.

It hurt; her body worked against her. She yelled with her mind, demanding her lungs to work while her chest heaved for air that stung along her throat and deep in her chest. It would have been clear that her eyes were watering, had she not been soaked, but slowly it got easier. Slowly, she was able to gasp and heave while watching with utter confusion as one man pulled a knife; not something too uncommon in California, and the other, wearing... armor? square off with the man with a heavy accent. She consintrated on holding her gut, as if doing such a thing made the pain and breathing easier to tollerate. Just a little longer... then she might have wits about her, enough to form words to communicate with. Such as "what the hell is going on"?
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Offline Firefly23

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #3 on: June 04, 2009, 12:29:01 PM »
Once convinced that the guard understood and wasn't going to disobey, Robin glanced at the woman, still keeping half an eye on the guard who was panting and dripping.  "Milady, are you quite all right?"  Still holding his knife, Robin moved to her side, gently lifting her from the stream and setting her upright on the bank.  "You look as though you met some amount of distress."  He sat back on his heels so as not to crowd her, and took a moment to assess just what he had tossed, unintentionally, into the creek.  She looked...odd.  Out of place.  And why on earth was she wearing men's breeches?  This young woman didn't look like the women on the run he'd seen before, and she wasn't wearing nearly enough.  Even though he was dripping wet, Robin couldn't help but be a gentleman.  He removed his sopping cloak and draped it across her shoulders, hoping the warmth from his exertions transferred to the fabric.

Hearing the guard stir, Robin briefly excused himself and hopped over to the other bank, sitting on the man's chest.  "Did you not hear me the first time?  Don't.  Move."

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Offline Shades of Gray

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #4 on: June 04, 2009, 01:04:16 PM »
I've fallen into some sort of...Cosplay. She knew it sounded incredible, unlikely, but while Marion was led out of the stream to sit on the bank by a very real man, it was the only thing she could think of. Was this some sort of sick prank? Confusion pulled at her eyes, shock numbing Robin's words so they seemed muted and distant, as if he were vocalizing under water and at a great distance. "I... I did." Didn't she? She wasn't so certain, and that confussion rang clearly in her breathy voice. He settled his cloak around her shoulders, a heavy weight due to the water still beading down the wool.

Cosplay? Her eyes narrowed, struggling to focuss on the texture of the cloak. It wasn't perfectly smirth, there was shade, bits of run in the thread where it must have been snagged on shrub and bramble. A few small holes here and there to show good use, some having been patches already. Too damn nice for a Cosplay... wasn't it? She checked her head with careful fingers, but came away with water instead of blood. The light streaming through the thick trees didn't hurt her eyes... all of that ruled out a head injury. Narrowing her eyes again, she wiggled her toes defiantly, watching the man with the had sit on the guard's back, and somewhere in the back of her mind found humor in how he had handled that. Impulses told her to laugh, she settled instead with a blink. A movie... a prank. Somehow Ashton Kutcher drugged me, and now threw me on the set of a movie. The bastard... Punk'd... that's it. It had to be....
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Offline Firefly23

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #5 on: June 05, 2009, 10:28:44 AM »
There was a grunt from beneath Robin, followed by a muttered curse.  Clearly intent on moving, and potentially causing harm to Robin and the lady here with them, the guard tried to grab hold of Robin with his legs.  Having none of it, Robin leaned forward and drove the knife point through the guard's neck.  He squirmed like a stuck fish, gurgling as blood mixed with oxygen and bubbled out of his throat.  Dissatisfied, Robin twisted the knife sharply, and the squirming stopped.  He twitched one last time and fell still. 

Robin continued to sit on his chest, staring at the man's paling face and the blood that drained down into the creek, forming a little trail in the cool, clear water.  Once certain the man was dead, Robin removed the blade from his throat, wiping it clean with some distaste on the man's pants.  "I told you to not move," he said quietly, almost apologetically.  Shaking his head, Robin sheathed the knife and moved back over to the mystery woman.  "Now, miss, can you...oh, dear, we should not keep you so near to this place.  Come, come with me, you shall be cared for."  Strong hands lifted her to her feet, helping to steady her.  Unsure of her ability to stay up on her own two feet, Robin made a snap decision and lifted her off the ground, cradling her like a child.  His wool cloak was doing a fairly efficient job of keeping in her body heat, but he shifted nimbly to move the cloak from between them so she was closer to his own body.  "Don't worry, miss, we'll have you cleaned up and warmed up straight away.  We can figure out what's wrong with you in no time."

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Offline Shades of Gray

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #6 on: June 05, 2009, 04:45:27 PM »
All thoughts of a horrible tv series being turned into a reality vanished the moment the knife went into the guard's neck. That wasn't fake; it wasn't a collapsible blade that slid into the sheath. There weren't packets of falseblood hidden in a pouch or anything make believe in that clarifying moment. Marion felt the blood drain out of her face as if it were the same stuff drifting with the current of the creak. It was a good thing she had been sitting; she was a radio talkshow host. She couldn't watch "Scream" because of the blood, and now she could smell the sharp copper mingling in the air she felt sick. He just killed a man. Her mind calmly reasoned. You live in LA... you've seen the horrible car accidents, you watched and reported the news. You were there when they shot that movie star at the Poco club... It wasn't new... but Marion hated blood.

"You..." She stumbled out, finding the air thickening in her throat as she tried to speak something reasonable. What the hell was she supposed to say? Instincts wanted her to say the obvious, 'You just killed a man.' but she hadn't even managed to get half of that sentence out. The man was standing again, speaking to her, and now his heavily accented voice was more clear; no longer at a great distance, but it felt as if they were both still underwater. She could make out the words this time. Come with him, he said, she would be cared for, seen too... She was on her feet before she could blink, and a protesting squeak broke from her throat as he lifted her into his arms with a graceful ease that spoke of a life made of hard working, rather than trophy muscles at a gym. Long and lean, not thick and bulky where they restricted graceful movements. Thankfully the man was warm; they were both soaked through, but feeling the heat of another person kept what questionable sanity she had left, anchor down onto him. See... he's real. Her mind proudly worked out. You're not crazy. She could argue with that... but her own advice to people were not to argue with themselves; that's what made you crazy in the first place. "W-Wait.." She pressed a palm to his chest as he moved towards his destination. She felt his heart beating, and that seemed to clear away some of that fog. "Who are you? Whats... what's going on? No jokes..."
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Offline Firefly23

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #7 on: June 05, 2009, 11:01:54 PM »
Her babbling causing Robin some distress, he picked up the pace, trotting through the woods.  Many years of practice kept the movements smooth as he moved up and down along the rough terrain.  The trees began to blur together a bit as he wove through them, moving deeper into the woods, following the creek.  Hush now, it'll be all right.  Hush."  She seemed rather insistent, so Robin took a moment to glance down at her.  Eyes as green as the trees in the sunlight, filled with compassionate strength smiled down at her.  "My name is Robin.  Now hush, before you distract me more and I run into a tree."  On that note, he looked up and ducked beneath a sudden branch.  "See?"  A charming smile lit his face as he focused on weaving through the thickening forest.

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Offline Shades of Gray

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #8 on: June 05, 2009, 11:52:32 PM »
Marion gave another investigative wiggle of her toes. They were in working order still, she was certain that she'd be able to walk just fine. A little shakey at first... but she figured she had every right to be. Yet did she really need to be carried off like some small child... or a purse dog? She had working legs, she ran marathons for charity several times a year... Her pace wasn't nearly as graceful as his, how could it when she was used to running on paved roads, and he with nothing but fauna below his boots? Or maybe the annoyance of being treated like some brittle thing was simply an outlet for the mass confusion of being... where ever here was. "Robin..." She tried the name out, frowning softly. It wasn't a common name, not for a man anyways. Not any more.

He had told her to hush... it wasn't easy. Marion had...questions. And a lot of them, all building up inside until they jumbled together and lost meaning. Where should she start first? Did he have a better idea on what the hell was happening? Everything was loosing vertigo, it was all gaining back the real edge of truth. But that only let to more questions. She settled on one. "Why are you running?"
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Offline Firefly23

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #9 on: June 06, 2009, 12:29:30 AM »
It was a decent question.  He smiled and slowed his pace a little.  "I am running so we can get you help sooner, rather than later."   He did like the way she said his name; carefully, gently, as though she was holding something fragile.  "Now, will you please keep quiet?  I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea."

Robin slowed even more as the trees grew especially thick.  After a few more steps, he stopped, lowering the young woman to the ground, helping her stand on her own two feet.  Here, the sunlight came through only in patches, spotlighting unique aspects of the deep forest.  Crossing his lips with his finger, Robin turned away, threw his head back, and cawed like a raven.  There was a pause before the call of a nightengale came back, clear and bright.  Again, that charming smile brightened his rough features as he offered her his arm.  "Milady?"
« Last Edit: June 08, 2009, 02:27:46 PM by FortunesCrookedSmile »

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Offline Shades of Gray

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #10 on: June 06, 2009, 12:08:14 PM »
Marion couldn't help the frown, it had a will of it's own and currently her mind was too distracted trying to make sense of everything around her to put up an effort to keep it at bay. Just what did he think she needed help with? That question caused her mind to go reeling in every direction, so many responces at once made her head ache. "But..." She kept her mouth shut after that. Hell.... maybe he knew what was going on? Maybe Robin knew she wasn't supposed to be...here... and he had an idea on what to do? Really, Marion... be calm about this, be rational. Didn't she just watch this Robin kill another man? There was that.... and remembering it caused a tingle to race up the back of her neck and into her scalp. What the hell was going on?

They were slowing then, and finally stopped. Once able to plant her feet firmly on the ground she felt a little better. She didn't wobble as much as she had expected, and thankfully the rest of the sickening clench she founf her body covered with was begining to release. She didn't feel normal; the drugs perhaps? Constantly she felt on the vurge of releasing her guts but it wasn't so much that her muscles were clenching, just that sickening hot haze over her limbs. It was getting better, but getting better alowed her to become more aware of it, and now she was distracted to a point that she hadn't been paying attention. She blinked, looking up as Robin called out, and shortly an answer returned to their ears. Guess they don't have cell phones... But what confused her the most was the offer of his arm. Marion blinked, dumbfounded, eyes lifting from the limb, to those earthy green hues, and then back before it really registered what she was supposed to do. It was a little awkward for her; she hadn't ever visited any galla or event the needed such manners before, and it wasn't very common to see. But after the hesitation she lifted a hand, setting it on the offered limb, and tried not to blush. To distract herself, she corrected him and introduced herself. "Ah... Marion."
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Offline Firefly23

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #11 on: June 06, 2009, 05:28:50 PM »
Robin smiled, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow and pulling it close to his body.  "Marion...Marion..."  He said it slowly, savoring the syllables.  "Lovely name.  Come along then, they'll be waiting for us."  He started off slowly, making sure she could keep up, and not fall face first into the thick, loamy ground.  It would be soft, but rather dirty.  And she looked as though she had already had enough for the day; another bath might not improve her mood, since it would be about as cold as the creek she had fallen into.  

Turning his eyes forward, watching for the camp, Robin firmly shoved aside his considerations for where she had come from; it would take far too much time to figure out at this very moment, and he knew he would need several before any conclusions could be drawn.  Perhaps Little John would have suggestions...or perhaps the priest...he was unsure.  At any rate, this young woman was in need of assistance, and significantly more approporiate clothing, and he could provide it.  No gentleman would do any less.

The trees had grown quite thick here, but there was a clear, though small, trail that led through them.  After several moments of walking in the quiet, they broke through the thicket, and trees were much more spaced out.  They stood at the top of a hill that sloped down into a shallow bowl, filled with ancient oak trees.  Nestled between the trees were dozens of small thatched huts, smoke curling cozily out of small chimneys.  Off to the left, the creek they had followed had widened, and dropped down a fairly steep cliff as a small waterfall that filled a small pool before following the creek bed out of sight.  At the bottom of the hill, a gathering of men, casually armed and chatting, waited for Robin and their guest for the evening.  "Welcome to my home, miss Marion."
« Last Edit: June 08, 2009, 02:27:25 PM by FortunesCrookedSmile »

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Offline Shades of Gray

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #12 on: June 07, 2009, 11:59:59 AM »
What were you expecting? Was any of this for real? Had she fallen into a comatose and the results was this...bizare dream? She's read about it before; people thinking they've lived second, whole lives after a hard hit to the head, finding themselves waking up later in the hospital. Could she settle on an opinion yet? Marion was getting tired of these switch-backs on her decisions. First it was a prank, then it wasn't, and how could this possibly be some Hollywood set with the wide, open sky above them, and the forever stretch of trees in every direction? She felt as if she had been plunged in the ocean, and all of this green made her feel... small. The last time you were in a forest like this was when you were a child....remember? Oregon... but it wasn't quite like this. This is older, untouched. It was beautiful, but alien, and her eyes wouldn't stop sweeping across the impossibly tall trees and unfamiliar worls around her. Which was was North? She hadn't the faintest clue what direction they were even moving, and that was... peculiar. Not comforting, but she wasn't going to let herself freak out.

Not if she can help it...

She allowed herself to get distracted, picking out the several dozen thatch homes tucked in here and there and tried to find the differences between them so that one was able to tell the other apart. From this distance it wasn't easy, and perhaps that was intended? But, now there was a possible new problem. You don't know where you are. You don't know which direction to go... and you're in the middle of the woods with strange men who could slit your throat just as easily as this man had done to the other. Why aren't you freaking out? She really should be... but there wasn't heavy oppression or danger to ber character weighing down on her from Robin. Not yet anyways. "Uhh... thanks. Where are we?"
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Offline Firefly23

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #13 on: June 08, 2009, 11:24:57 AM »
"Well, now, if I was to tell you that, m'lady, we may have to kill you.".  He winked and started to lead her down the hill.  They took it slowly, since he could tell she was still a bit unsteady on her feet, though he wasn't sure whether or not that was due to shock, or an unfamiliarity with this type of ground.  Fortunately, they reached the bottom with no incident.

At the bottom, a group of men stood waiting.  A large, beefy man with dirty blond hair and bright blue eyes beamed down at Robin and his companion.  "Glad to see you made it safe, there, Robin.  We was gettin' concerned.  The hell happened to you?"  He raised one brow and shot Robin a look of deep concern.

"Robert decided he just had to follow us back, but then didn't follow my instructions."  Robin shrugged and looked at the other men gathered.  "Glad to see you made it back safe.  No other followers then?"  The men shook their heads, still keeping their eyes on Marion.  For the moment, Robin ignored them.  "Good.  Well, I appreciate the welcoming committee, but we are fine now, gentlemen, thank you.  I am sure your women could use some assistance with the fires now."  While he spoke in a casual lilt, there was no question they had just been dismissed, and then men knew it. 

Well, most of them.  The large man stayed, eyeing Robin dubiously.  "You didn't honestly think that would work on me, now did you?"

Robin sighed and shook his head.  "No, Little John, I didn't.  But I can be hopeful."

"So.  Are you going to introduce me to your guest?  Or do I have to rely on her to say something first?"  Little John turned his kind, though large, look over to her.  He looked her over from head to toe, still smiling sweetly, but glancing once at Robin and quirking his brow slightly.

"This is Marion.  She seems to have run across some trouble, and I thought it be best we assist her, rather than leave her to the clutches of Nottingham.  Don't you?"  Again, a casual tone, but there was no room for argument.

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Offline Shades of Gray

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #14 on: June 08, 2009, 12:59:23 PM »
Wink or not, that was unsettling. The question was more general than what she voiced. Was she... still in California? Oregon perhaps? Maybe she was remembering the woods she grew up in as a kid; they had seemed so much taller than they were now. Maybe she did hit her head, and this was some phsycosis or... something? Then why was it lucid? Why was she able to use her senses and make coherent thoughts? Marion was starting to get a headache.... Luckily the troupe at the bottom of the hill was distraction enough, speaking up in greeting to Robin. More accents, more strangers, more questions. She settled with keeping silent and simply watched the exchange, hoping to learn something.

Here was something curious. Was there a tension for alfa possition or simple distrust? Marion didn't feel any muscles in Robin's arm flex in distaste as the large man spoke his opinions aloud, but she didn't feel any easy shifting in the man's possition either; a cock of his hip, a shifting of weight on his feet. Marion's vibrant sapphire blues shifted from Robin to 'Little John'. And the moment the name came out she felt herself frowning. Robin? Little John? What the hell is this? The names were familiar, and it was buzzing at the back of her mind like an insect. This was familiar, and that familiar swell caused her breathing to quicken with certainty. Well that was something! Something familiar at last, she didn't know what just yet, but that gave her hope. Marion was almost smiling, though her thoughts had been so loud in her mind she had missed his comment about Nottingham. It didn't matter, she was further comfortable, and felt herself begin to relax.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Offline Firefly23

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #15 on: June 08, 2009, 01:41:28 PM »
Feeling her arms relax just a bit under his hand, Robin smiled over at her.  "Marion, we best see what we can do about finding you some..."  He paused, unsure of which word might be best, given the circumstances, and her odd dress.  "...warmer clothes.  You must be frozen."  Looking up at Little John, Robin narrowed his eyes, indicating silence was preferred before leading her into camp.

"Robin!  Robin!"  A young woman, standing outside one of the nearest huts, waved her hand enthusiastically at the trio, nearly jumping up and down.  She wore a faded brown skirt with a pale yellow bodice over the top, her shirt cut low enough that one might be concerned for her modesty any moment.  Long brown hair was pulled back into a braid that nearly reached her behind, a few stained ribbons woven in for a touch of vanity.  Smiling, Robin steered Marion towards her.  "Ah, Martha, lovely.  Just the woman I wanted to see.  I would like to introduce you to Marion.  She's had a rough day, and could use a dry set of clothes.  Do you think you may have something she could borrow?"   His barrage of words kept the young woman from speaking again before he had passed Marion off to her, smiling at her briefly.  "Don't worry, Marion, Martha is a wonderful woman.  She and her mother will take good care of you.  When she's cleaned up, please come find me, Martha, would you?"  Before she could even open her mouth, Robin and turned and pulled Little John after him, his haste clear.  "God, that woman," he muttered as they rounded the corner, heading for the main fire pit in the center of camp.

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Offline Shades of Gray

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #16 on: June 08, 2009, 02:28:27 PM »
"Uh... wait." It would have been nice to have been able to get out a full sentence at least once. Marion was tired of stumbling around, if that be physically or verbally, probably coming off as some slack-witted fool. A simpleton. But that's how she felt, even with that burning sense of familiarity she had felt before. It was all but useless now, stumbling after Martha with her arm in her hand as the woman clucked like a hen, talking nonsence as far as Marion could figure out. Aren't you a lucky lass, being rescued by Robin? Had she been in any danger? Marion hadn't known where she was but the fight had stumbled upon her, not the other way around. She opened her mouth to speak, to tell someone what was going on, but quickly Martha moved, more like a hawk than a chicken now, stripping the cloak off of the woman's shoulders to let it drop with a heavy wet slap on the floor.

"Poor thing, soaked to the bone! What happened to you?"

"I.. I fell in a creek." The woman tisked and with a grunt Marion found herself being forcefully stripped as if she didn't know how to do it herself. She couldn't help blushing, she was a fully grown woman, she knew how to get her own clothes on and off, but there was no protesting with the woman, who spoke on, ignoring Marion's objections. "Funny clothes you've got here. And a funny accent, too. You from the North then?" Another splat as the shirt was tossed and Marion had to gently push the woman away so she'd get her pants off herself. "No... No I'm from California... uh...That's the West? I'm not really... sure where I'm at. I got sort of.. mixed around." It was weak, but it was the truth. Fighting out of the wet jeans, Marion stood in her undergarments, almost shivering while Martha began to pluck out some spare clothes.

A brown linnen skirt, much like Martha's was tossed to Marion, as well as a pale blue bodice that looked somewhat complicated to squeeze into. But it was dry... Marion sighed, and began to dress.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Offline Firefly23

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #17 on: June 08, 2009, 02:40:25 PM »
As Martha bustled around Marion like a hen, there was a loud bang when the front door was flung open and smacked the opposite wall.  A large woman bustled into the room, wearing a smattering of brightly colored, but very well worn, skirts closed the door behind her.  "Gracious, these young men have no respect anymore," she muttered.  Her eyes stayed on the knitting in her hands, her fingers working feverishly to try and untangle whatever mess had been made.  "Just mindin' my own business, these young...young...beasts!...come rushing past, knock me off my stump, knitting in the dust!  No sense of propriety, no respect for-goodness gracious, Martha, have you no sense?!"  Her tirade interrupted by an unfortunate step into a pile of sopping clothes, the woman bent down and collected the denim, holding it up for inspection.  "Well, if these aren't the oddest breeches I've seen in all my days.  Where in heaven-oh my."  Finally, she noticed Marion, standing shivering in nothing but a skirt, clutching the pale blue bodice in her hands.  "Oh, you poor thing.  Martha, get the poor child a blanket before she freezes to death!"  The knitting catastrophe forgotten momentarily, the older woman grabbed a tea kettle, hanging it over the cheerily burning fire.  "These odd things didn't come off you, now did they, dearie?  You'd be nigh on nekked in these.  Completely inappropriate."  She distractedly tossed the jeans onto the hearth to have them dry.  "Maybe one of the men will find use for those.  Heaven knows what, but boys will be boys.  Oh, Martha, you have her that one?  Gracious, she won't fit in that if you add a whole new panel.  Have her wear that purple one.  You know, your new one."  Her rambling continued, but muted as she dug around the small kitchen space with the crude cupboards, hunting for some tea, or as much as could be gathered from the tea cup set on the counter, and a few more mutters.

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Offline Shades of Gray

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #18 on: June 11, 2009, 12:20:59 AM »
She was a little more that overwhelmed at the entrance of the new woman. Martha jumped at the clatter of the door, covering her chest with the blue shift with wide startled eyes before she realised that this woman must also live here, and there was no harm coming. Like a storm cloud rolling in, the woman made a path. She spoke quickly and loudly, giving no pause or break for Martha to make any further comment; but the younger woman seemed used to this arangement, and simply sighed quietly before scuffling around and doing as she instructed. Marion blinked, then had no choice but to give up the blue shift for the purple one, which Martha offered without so much as a word.

Somehow she managed to get into it; it was still complicated, or so it felt, the woman was used to simplicity. Jeans, trendy but basic tshirts and such tanktops. Sweaters... good god she loved hoodies. Now dressed, and feeling... a little more respectable and comfortable, Marion self conciously brushed at her skirts, and wove her fingers through her hair. Even wet now, with the strange humidity it wouldn't curl, the chocolate locks were straight and had every intention of remaining that way. "So this... Robin. Who is he exactly? Seemed like an...interesting fellow."
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Offline Firefly23

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #19 on: June 11, 2009, 10:15:10 AM »
"You don't know who Robin is?  Good gracious child, you must live under a log.  Well, I guess you could say the same thing about us, but we do live with the man, so I guess living under a log isn't quite the right term.  In a nunery?  Yes, that'd be about right.  After all, nuns wouldn't be at all interested in a man near as charming as our Robin, now would they?"  The older woman continued her stream of commentary as she bustled around the hut, deftly avoiding knocking anything onto the floor, despite the width of her behind and the narrowness of the space.  After checking the tea, she turned back to Marion and gave her a once over.  "Good gracious, dearie, that bodice is just hanging off you.  We must get that tightened.  Come here."  She crossed the room and spun Marion around so she was facing the door.  The laces, which had been well tightened for being done by someone as confused and scared as Marion clearly was, were given several strong yanks.  Bracing Marion with a hand between her shoulderblades, the woman yanked a couple more times, yammering on the whole time.  "Robin, my gracious, what can you say about such a man?  He's brave, he's strong, he's a skilled fighter, oh is he skilled with a bow!  All the local villages just love him!  But then, he's done such wonderful things for everyone here.  Since that evil, evil Sherrif took over, nothing has been the same.  The King left, and now, uff, it's such a mess!  But Robin is doing such a wonderful, wonderful job helping everyone!  The poor man, Robin, he's just been so abused by the Sherrif.  Calling him such horrible names, Robin of the Hood.  Gracious, it's just tragic!  All right, my dear, let me look at you.  Ah, much better!"  The tightening of the bodice had done exactly what it was supposed to; lift and separate.  Placing her hands on her wide hips, the woman nodded.  "Now, about that tea."  She turned and returned to the fire, checking the water and pouring out a mug of tea.

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Offline Shades of Gray

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #20 on: June 11, 2009, 10:52:44 AM »
She didn't know what she had done to deserve this torture device. The thick woman wadled towards her with every intention of mashing up her organs, and before Marion could do anything more than studder out some protests, she was whipped around and left to the mercy of the larger woman's hands. Grunting, mied with the sound of ribon drawing against little eye hooks mingled in the room, until Marion's eyes felt like watering and taking a full breathe seemed mostly impossible. But apparently that meant pretty, and when the lady was through, still clucking, the young woman began to pay more attention to her words.

Sounded like a regular fan club... but sherrif? What Podunk town am I in? And was she on the side she- thoughts stopped. For a moment everything went blank before Marion felt her jaw drop and her heart skip several beats. Did the room just swoon, or had she simply shifted to better see the larger woman. "Wait..." Her eyes narrowed, trying focuss on the subject and make sure she had heard that right. "Wait a moment. Robin. As in, Robin Hood?" Hearing herself say it out loud definately made the room spin. Marion reached out, grabbing a flimsy chair and sat down before she made a fool of herself. "No no... that' can't be right."
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Offline Firefly23

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #21 on: June 12, 2009, 09:56:55 AM »
"Good gracious, child, what on earth do you mean, it can't be?  Who else could it be?  Do you know of another Robin?"  Turning back to Marion, the woman blinked at her suddenly sitting.  "Goodness, you must be tired.  Here, have some tea."  She pushed the mug of tea into Marion's hands, turning to her daughter.  "Martha, dear, go let Robin know that his dear guest will be resting here until dinner.  She's lookin' a bit peaky."  She grabbed a chair and pulled it up next to Marion, settling her large bulk on it.  The wood creaked ominously, but held as she leaned in towards Marion.  "Now, child, what's causin' you such distress?  You look like I may have just killed your pet."

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Offline Shades of Gray

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #22 on: June 12, 2009, 11:42:28 AM »
Marion wasn't really listening any more. Sound droned out, until once again it felt as if the woman was speaking under water, distorted and deeper than her vocals really were. The room was spinning, even as she gripped the arm of the chair to fight it's tug and she felt very ill; too hot and cold all at once. "I don't feel good." She muttered to herself, speaking aloud just for the sanity of hearing her own voice even while she pressed her face into the palms of her hand. The spinning was still there in the dark behind her lashes, but it wasn't so bad now. The world tilted, she braced her feet against the ground, but didn't fall over and let gravity take care of the rest. The spinning isn't real, Marion. Those gray dots fluttering behind your eyes, are. Passing out won't be healthy.

She tucked her head down, between her legs and breathed. Slowly in, slowly out, even as her chest screamed and encouraged her to take gasping gulps to satisfy her hammering pulse. "I'm... a long... long way from home.." Her voice cracked with emotion,  her throat tingled and tightened until she was forced to swallow a few times, but she didn't cry. Crying would have felt nice; but it wouldn't make sense of anything.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Offline Firefly23

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #23 on: June 12, 2009, 01:33:23 PM »
"Well, now, that's not so bad a thing.  We can always get you back home, dearie.  No need to fret."  A heavy hand settled gently on Marion's back, stroking slowly.  "Come one, dearie, let's have you lie down, hm?  You look not so good, and maybe a bit of a rest before dinner would do you some good."

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Offline Shades of Gray

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Re: Grey Feathers
« Reply #24 on: June 12, 2009, 07:43:06 PM »
Back home? How? It wasn't just up the hill to the nearest airport and back to California... not if what was happening was real. Her throat tightened until talking became impossible, breathing became a challenge, and it was all Marion had not to break out into helpless, pathetic sobs. Look on the good side... Robin Hood was a good man. At least the Sheriff didn't find you... It wasn't very comforting to think of, but at least it seemed logical enough. She couldn't make any sound choices in this state, the woman was right, sleep had a seductive pull that she wouldn't mind indulging in right then. She was tired, but in a level deeper than what she had known before. Maybe it was because of...however she got here? So Marion nodded to the woman, rising to numbly move over to the bed before sitting on the edge of it, and pulled her feet up. Who knows... maybe sleep would bring her back home?
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

 

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