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AN: dancing away from Z and company to meet some of the other cast - we'll rejoin Z et al shortly. Little character excerpts
Zarkan/Amod
Zarkan rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, applying a little extra pressure as he dragged his knuckles from corner to corner of his right eye. If it wasn't one issue, it was another and he really craved some down time. The skirmishes on the borders of their territory was starting to wear on him - and he wasn't even one of the ones fighting. Oh, sure, he wanted to be out there on the field of battle, taking on the mutants just as much as the next able-bodied male, but.. It just was the able-bodied part that was keeping him from seeing any action. He let out a wearied sigh and reached for his rosewood staff. Damn it, where had it gotten to now..?
"Lose something?" a familiar male voice rang out before the figure approached, embracing him from behind.
Zarkan relaxed into his lover's arms. "Just my staff," he said. "But if you're here, I don't need it."
Amod merely hm'ed in response, not quite eager to move. His hawk-sharp eyes glanced about and he nodded slightly. He pulled free, ignoring the muted protest of the movement from his lover and made his way over to where he saw the staff. "Give it here," he said quietly.
The dog whined quietly, looking so sad and so put out at having to give back his chew toy.
"Give it here," Amod commanded again. Honestly, the dog had a pile of toys to choose from - why he kept pick Zarkan's staff was beyond him.
The dog just gave a small puppy sigh and reluctantly gave up the staff.
Amod wrinkled his nose at the dog slobber and sighed. He made his way back over to Zarkan. "Well, lover, looks like that mutt of your uncle's was trying to make it a chew toy. Again."
Zarkan groaned. "As if I needed an excuse to not like that dog," he said. He took a nearby cloth and wiped the staff before using it to stand up. "Thank you for getting it back. Again."
"Not a problem," Amod said, wrapping an arm around Zarkan's waist and walking with him to the main chamber. He didn't mind supporting Zarkan - after all, it partially was his fault.. If he had been six seconds quicker, Zarkan would have been fine. He wouldn't need the cane. He would have...
"You're beating yourself up again," Zarkan said quietly, noticing the odd tenseness to Amod's grip.
"Sorry," Amod said. "But your uncle did say I had a healthy guilt complex.."
-
Miriam, Orak
Miriam curled up in one of the comfortable plush chairs in her uncle's private library, a book of forgotten lore held tightly in her hands. She always enjoyed doing research - and her uncle had one of the largest libraries outside of the city. She set the book down, resting it for a moment, so she could pick up a delicate china cup. She sipped the contents slowly, savouring the taste of a well-made cup of coffee. She continued to hold the cup as she adjusted the book in her free hand. Oh, that looked interesting, she thought as she devoured the information on the page - wondering if it had been possible for that creature to have existed. Surely there were remains of it somewhere. Perhaps, one day, she'd convince her uncle to let her do a proper investigation into that mountain that overlooked their home. If there were to be remains anywhere, surely Alayas was a good a source as any. After all, they hadn't done a proper investigation into that region in *years*. She glanced up when she heard the familiar sound of her uncle clearing his throat. "Yes, Uncle?" she asked, her eyes locking on his.
"You missed the call to dinner. Again," Orak said with a wearied sigh. He loved his niece to death but she really needed to stop missing meals because she got engrossed in some musty tome.
Miriam winced a little. "Sorry, Uncle. I was just reading this book on the last exploration into Alayas," she said.
Orak gave a tiny mental groan. Of all the locations his beloved niece had to be interested in - it would be that mountain from hell. "Miri, we've been over this countless times.."
-
Cifex
Cifex shifted in his position, trying to find a comfortable spot in his perch. So far, he had been undetected by any of those strange creatures that were employed by Dread Wing, but he wasn't about to tempt fate. He'd change his location soon - just to get a fresh perspective on the terrain. Hopefully, as soon as this mission was complete, he'd be allowed some much needed down time. It had been quite some time since he had been in the golden city and he found himself longing to walk those streets again.
He shifted again, trying desperate to get comfortable. Didn't seem like that was going to be likely. Ah, finally, something other than grass (if you could call what he was looking at grass) growing. The fingers of his left hand reached up and touched the implant on the side of his temple, augmenting his vision a thousand fold. Bingo. There was Dread. Now, who was it that he was talking to?
-
Ilona, Nora
Ilona settled down in one of the plush chairs in her father's sitting room, an embroidery hoop in her hand. Her pale eyes were focused on her work, anything to keep her hands and mind occupied. A tiny sigh escaped her as she set the hoop aside and she rose from her chair, moving to stand near the window. She peered out into the darkness, watching, waiting for something. A tiny sigh escaped her again, and her left hand reached for the heart necklace she wore. A soft blush stained her cheeks as she thought about the man who had given it to her, her childhood friend and sweetheart, Zhane.
"Thinking about the prince again?" came a female voice from behind Ilona.
Ilona whipped around, left hand resting on her breast as if to steady her heart. "Nora," she breathed out. "You scared me."
Nora chuckled. "Sorry. So, daydreaming about your prince again?" she asked as she moved to stand next to the young noble.
"Hmm," Ilona murmured. "I worry about him, Nora."
"Prince Z'neth is a capable man, you shouldn't."
Ilona chose not to answer that, letting the silence hang. Yes, Z'neth was a capable man - a brave warrior, a compassionate leader, but there was this sadness that hung over him. It worried her that he was taking more then he should - heavy was the crown not quite yet on his head.
Nora just stood there, unsure what to say. Maybe Ilona was right - and that there was some reason to worry..? No. She had faith in Prince Z'neth and the rest of the Pendragon family.
Zarkan/Amod
Zarkan rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, applying a little extra pressure as he dragged his knuckles from corner to corner of his right eye. If it wasn't one issue, it was another and he really craved some down time. The skirmishes on the borders of their territory was starting to wear on him - and he wasn't even one of the ones fighting. Oh, sure, he wanted to be out there on the field of battle, taking on the mutants just as much as the next able-bodied male, but.. It just was the able-bodied part that was keeping him from seeing any action. He let out a wearied sigh and reached for his rosewood staff. Damn it, where had it gotten to now..?
"Lose something?" a familiar male voice rang out before the figure approached, embracing him from behind.
Zarkan relaxed into his lover's arms. "Just my staff," he said. "But if you're here, I don't need it."
Amod merely hm'ed in response, not quite eager to move. His hawk-sharp eyes glanced about and he nodded slightly. He pulled free, ignoring the muted protest of the movement from his lover and made his way over to where he saw the staff. "Give it here," he said quietly.
The dog whined quietly, looking so sad and so put out at having to give back his chew toy.
"Give it here," Amod commanded again. Honestly, the dog had a pile of toys to choose from - why he kept pick Zarkan's staff was beyond him.
The dog just gave a small puppy sigh and reluctantly gave up the staff.
Amod wrinkled his nose at the dog slobber and sighed. He made his way back over to Zarkan. "Well, lover, looks like that mutt of your uncle's was trying to make it a chew toy. Again."
Zarkan groaned. "As if I needed an excuse to not like that dog," he said. He took a nearby cloth and wiped the staff before using it to stand up. "Thank you for getting it back. Again."
"Not a problem," Amod said, wrapping an arm around Zarkan's waist and walking with him to the main chamber. He didn't mind supporting Zarkan - after all, it partially was his fault.. If he had been six seconds quicker, Zarkan would have been fine. He wouldn't need the cane. He would have...
"You're beating yourself up again," Zarkan said quietly, noticing the odd tenseness to Amod's grip.
"Sorry," Amod said. "But your uncle did say I had a healthy guilt complex.."
-
Miriam, Orak
Miriam curled up in one of the comfortable plush chairs in her uncle's private library, a book of forgotten lore held tightly in her hands. She always enjoyed doing research - and her uncle had one of the largest libraries outside of the city. She set the book down, resting it for a moment, so she could pick up a delicate china cup. She sipped the contents slowly, savouring the taste of a well-made cup of coffee. She continued to hold the cup as she adjusted the book in her free hand. Oh, that looked interesting, she thought as she devoured the information on the page - wondering if it had been possible for that creature to have existed. Surely there were remains of it somewhere. Perhaps, one day, she'd convince her uncle to let her do a proper investigation into that mountain that overlooked their home. If there were to be remains anywhere, surely Alayas was a good a source as any. After all, they hadn't done a proper investigation into that region in *years*. She glanced up when she heard the familiar sound of her uncle clearing his throat. "Yes, Uncle?" she asked, her eyes locking on his.
"You missed the call to dinner. Again," Orak said with a wearied sigh. He loved his niece to death but she really needed to stop missing meals because she got engrossed in some musty tome.
Miriam winced a little. "Sorry, Uncle. I was just reading this book on the last exploration into Alayas," she said.
Orak gave a tiny mental groan. Of all the locations his beloved niece had to be interested in - it would be that mountain from hell. "Miri, we've been over this countless times.."
-
Cifex
Cifex shifted in his position, trying to find a comfortable spot in his perch. So far, he had been undetected by any of those strange creatures that were employed by Dread Wing, but he wasn't about to tempt fate. He'd change his location soon - just to get a fresh perspective on the terrain. Hopefully, as soon as this mission was complete, he'd be allowed some much needed down time. It had been quite some time since he had been in the golden city and he found himself longing to walk those streets again.
He shifted again, trying desperate to get comfortable. Didn't seem like that was going to be likely. Ah, finally, something other than grass (if you could call what he was looking at grass) growing. The fingers of his left hand reached up and touched the implant on the side of his temple, augmenting his vision a thousand fold. Bingo. There was Dread. Now, who was it that he was talking to?
-
Ilona, Nora
Ilona settled down in one of the plush chairs in her father's sitting room, an embroidery hoop in her hand. Her pale eyes were focused on her work, anything to keep her hands and mind occupied. A tiny sigh escaped her as she set the hoop aside and she rose from her chair, moving to stand near the window. She peered out into the darkness, watching, waiting for something. A tiny sigh escaped her again, and her left hand reached for the heart necklace she wore. A soft blush stained her cheeks as she thought about the man who had given it to her, her childhood friend and sweetheart, Zhane.
"Thinking about the prince again?" came a female voice from behind Ilona.
Ilona whipped around, left hand resting on her breast as if to steady her heart. "Nora," she breathed out. "You scared me."
Nora chuckled. "Sorry. So, daydreaming about your prince again?" she asked as she moved to stand next to the young noble.
"Hmm," Ilona murmured. "I worry about him, Nora."
"Prince Z'neth is a capable man, you shouldn't."
Ilona chose not to answer that, letting the silence hang. Yes, Z'neth was a capable man - a brave warrior, a compassionate leader, but there was this sadness that hung over him. It worried her that he was taking more then he should - heavy was the crown not quite yet on his head.
Nora just stood there, unsure what to say. Maybe Ilona was right - and that there was some reason to worry..? No. She had faith in Prince Z'neth and the rest of the Pendragon family.
