Thread: [Other] Modern Mythology [RP]
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Old 03-31-2013, 04:04 PM
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Default Re: Modern Mythology [RP]

Tiel’crec
Thunderphoenix; Pro-Secrecy
Somewhere in New York, USA
ARPers: Winter


Tiel was in pain. He had grown accustomed to it over the past week, but growing accustomed to it didn’t solve his problem. He was growing tired of his raven form; it was so much smaller, much more confining, and so… weak when compared to his other forms. It had been nearly two weeks since his judgment had lapsed and he had allowed himself to be caught flying in a storm. He didn’t even have time to land and transform into his true form before the storm began tossing him around mercilessly. How ironic that he, a creature of lightning and wind, would be given so much trouble by a storm.

Tiel shook his head to clear his thoughts. Reflecting on the irony of his situation wouldn’t help him; it would only cause him to waste time. Gingerly, he moved his injured right wing to test the pain. The pain didn’t appreciate the test and sent back a harshly worded message to his brain. He winced. His wing had been impaled by a branch during the storm. Fortunately, he had managed to get the branch out, but the wound had refused to close, and in recent days a constant burning pain had begun radiating the wound, accompanied by a rank smell. He feared infection, and he was becoming desperate. He needed his wing healed, and fast, before it forced him to regress into egg form. He wanted to avoid that drain on his life force if at all possible.

The past few days, whenever he hadn’t been searching for food, Tiel had been on the lookout for anyone who looked like they might be kind enough to heal his wing instead of put him out of his misery. So far, he hadn’t had any luck, and the current day wasn’t looking much better. Earlier today, the old woman feeding pigeons shooed him away, calling him a nasty bird. Even now, his feathers ruffled at the insult. The only nasty birds there were the pigeons she was feeding!

Once again, Tiel shook his head to clear his mind. He feared the injury, along with his weakness and current lack of food, would soon have him in a state of delirium. Tiel needed help before that happened. He needed to look around and be aware to identify a new person who might help him. Slowly, awkwardly, he ascended the tree whose bottom branches he was perched in. It was difficult work, hopping from one branch to another, using the occasional flap of his wings when absolutely necessary. Eventually, he reached the highest point he could, and he puffed up with pride for being able to do the simple task. He tried to take time to enjoy the little victories.

After about an hour, Tiel’s victory was even rewarded. His attention had begun to wane, and by now he was so delirious, he had almost missed it. Beneath his perch, a human woman hurried by with what appeared to be another human over her shoulder. Tiel wasn’t certain, but it appeared the woman that was thrown over the other’s shoulder was injured. Now, he didn’t understand much about human society, but he was quite certain that when they were hurt they could quickly call in aid if they remained in the same spot. The only reasons humans didn’t use these services were if they had committed a crime or… or if they were not human. Therefore, perhaps they were going to some supernatural healer! Proud of himself that he had come to this conclusion, even if it was rather irrational, he let out a loud squawk. He looked down for his quarry to begin following them, and he was alarmed to see that they were no longer there. With a worried and frantic cry, Tiel launched from the branch, gliding unsteadily with his injured wing. He couldn’t lose them, not now! However, try as he might, he was unable to keep his own weight in the air, and he dropped, and there was a loud crash as he plummeted into a bush beneath the tree.

As he slowly awoke, Tiel became aware that he now had pain in his left wing, not just his right one. It felt broken, or at the very least dislocated. Not only had he injured himself in his enthusiasm to receive healing, which he noted as more irony, he had lost his quarry. Tiel tried to let out a furious shriek, angry at himself, but it came out as only a weak croak. He needed that help now more than ever. After he had time to collect his thoughts, he carefully began untangling himself from the bush he had landed in. As he finished untangling himself, he thought he heard a sound. Cautiously, Tiel stuck his head out of the bush, looking around at where he had landed. He was rewarded with the sight of one of the females he had been following before, the carrier, walking away from a building. The one carried was not with her, so perhaps there was a healer here after all!

He waited until he was sure the carrier had left. Then, with a resurgence of new hope along with an unhealthy dose weakness induced crazy, Tiel began hopping away from his bush, hopefully towards someone who could help. If he had been thinking clearly, he may have been more cautious, taking the time to wonder why the supposed healer here would help him at all, but he was too desperate to care. He had already made it to the door before he realized his issue. How was he to open it? Grumbling as well as a raven could, Tiel turned from the door, looking for a way into the building. He found none, but he did spot something else, a window. If he could just get up to the window and tap on it a few times, perhaps he would be heard. The only problem: he’d have to fly up there on two injured wings. If he could have grit his teeth, he would have. The determination showed in his bright yellow eyes.

On the fifth try, Tiel finally made it to the window. Exhausted from trying, with much squawking and complaining, he managed to lift himself high enough. With a loud thunk, he slammed into the window, and then slid back to the ground, exhausted and in pain. If he could be smiling as he fell into unconsciousness, he would have been. He had made a noise. That meant help was coming. Or so he hoped.


Raisoren Driike
Dragon; Pro-secrecy
Chicago.
ARPer’s: Drago, Kinda Cobalt


Rise mumbled and grumbled his way down the alley. He was in a furious mood. Earlier some pathetic human had almost hit him with a car, and he had more than a few choice words to say to the driver. He wasn’t quite as peeved as he was earlier though, he had already practiced a little stress relief. He chuckled slightly at the memory of the vermin’s face when it walked out of its workplace to a burning car. But Rise was still furious and a drink at his favorite, nonhuman bar would do the trick. He was glad he had found it when he came to Chicago, he didn’t have to deal with any of those humans, just were-this and vampire that. They were still annoying, but not nearly as much as the vanilla humans. He kicked at a can in the alley and grinned cheekily as it hit the fae bouncer in the face before he quickly ducked into the bar.

As he walked into the bar, he received quite a few looks from the patrons as he walked in. The majority of those who looked glared at him, victims of past pranks who didn’t have very good senses of humor. A few of them perked up a bit, watching his every move so they could get a few laughs out of his jokes as well. He ignored them. What did he care what this rabble thought; he was just here to blow off some steam and to have a few good laughs. He walked up to bar and sat down as far away from other customers as he could.

Rise managed to pick up the last few words the bartender said over the phone before coming over to serve him. Something about Edward coming tonight. He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. The name Edward sounded familiar. Suddenly, he broke into a fit of obnoxious laughter, remembering the prank he had pulled on Edward. The look on Edward’s face as Rise explained that he had “missed the dartboard” when he had hit Edward’s shoulder with a throwing knife was priceless!

“So can I get you a drink, or are you going to sit there laughing like a madman for the rest of the evening?” Rise opened his eyes and glared at the bartender for interrupting his memory.

“Just get me the regular.” Rise said with mischief in his eyes.

“You don’t have a regular. You get something different every time you come here!” The ifrit grunted.

“I said get me the regular.” He grinned an impish little grin, a pointed tooth showing through. The bartender grumbled something under his breath, poured Rise a drink, and then walked off before Rise had the chance to complain that it wasn’t the right type. Rise shrugged, he’d just have to complain later. He turned his attention to the rest of the bar. Perhaps there would be something new tonight.

Sadly there wasn’t too much new tonight. In one corner, the regular dart game was surprisingly abandoned. Beside the battered normal dartboard, there was a crudely carved wooden dartboard. It was reserved for more dangerous items than darts, such as Rise’s own throwing knives, and it was well-used, often having to be replaced when it became uneven from all the nicks it sustained. In another corner, the regular card game was in full swing. He had been told that sometimes it didn’t involve gambling, but he had yet to see a game played where there wasn’t something of value at stake.

Then, there was movement from somewhere else along the bar, and the second he caught sight of what was doing the moving, his eyes narrowed. It looked to be… a dragon. No, he mustn’t jump to conclusions; it was merely some sort of humanoid reptile. But then there were the wings. He shook his head. There shouldn’t be another dragon, not here, not now, why would there be? He had almost convinced himself that this beast was not a dragon. But then it breathed flame.

As Rise watched the dragon stare at the movement of its own hand, he smirked. In his head, he narrated to himself. ‘And here we have the great, noble, majestic beast known as the dragon. Can you see its grace and poise, its intelligence as it stands there, fully aware and in control?’ He chuckled at his own narration. He had forgotten how much he disliked dragons. He might even like humans better! He slipped into thought, and unwanted the memory of his last encounter with a dragon slipped into his thoughts. He subconsciously rubbed the side of his neck, rubbing the scars that didn’t appear in his human form. He remembered the great claws crashing down. The intense pain in his neck. The elder dragon recoiling as Rise’s blood came into contact with the dragon’s scales.

Rise’s eyes snapped open, and he snarled. He didn’t want to linger on such memories. But something stuck out from his memory. The other dragon seemed hurt from his blood, but that didn’t make sense, the heat shouldn’t affect another dragon. Unless… his blood was more than just hot. He smirked cruelly; he even had a perfect test subject standing just a few feet away! It was a perfect opportunity to test his theory.

Rise looked down at his drink, he hadn’t had a drop yet, so it would work. Underneath the bar, out of sight, he took one of his knives and held it up to his wrist. He winced as he made a small cut, but soon the blood began leaking out at a steady enough rate. He pulled the drink underneath the bar and let some of his blood trickle in, the alcohol almost boiling as it was heated by his blood. Then, he set the drink back on the bar, tinted red, and he called over the bartender.

He slipped a sizeable amount of cash to the tender. “Mind helping me with my latest prank?” Rise motioned down at the drink. “Give this to that lizard-lady over there. I promise it won’t kill her.” He grinned. The bartender gave him a skeptical look, and Rise sighed, slipping over more cash until the bartender complied. “Just say that someone bet you she wouldn’t be able to drink the whole thing, or whatever you like, as long as she’ll drink it.” The bartender nodded, he understood. As the bartender walked over to the overgrown lizard, Rise chuckled, the cruel, mischievous look in his eyes fully aflame. This would be enjoyable, no matter how it turned out.

(Pretty sure I proofread it, but if there’s some sort of error, someone let me know.)
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