Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Tigers and Ravens [1x1]

"Well.." He shrugged. "I have at least another 100 years of servitude owed.. I originally pledged 50. But when that came and went I wanted more, so I pledged 100.. then... a lover of mine was dying. So.. I pledged.. 100 years.. for him to make her a lesser demon of sorts. A familiar, basically, so that she could stay alive longer. Then stupid bitch, once she recovered, took my money and ran." He scowled and ran a hand through his hair. "But that's how those things go, making deals with the devil and all that. So once my years are up, then I'll worry about salvation and rest. If I get tired of waiting, I can always piss off an angel and get them to obliterate my soul." He smirked grimly.

"Genetic altering? Is that what gave you..." He gestured at the tail that was hopefully still swinging behind him. "Beastie there? Genetic fuckery?" Imagining one person being able to level an entire city sent chills down his spine. Only the very highest tiers of angels and demonic princes could do that as far as he had known. He himself did well to level a two story house. And he had to had help from things like, you know, wrecking balls and explosives. "Sounds like quite the lovely time to grow up." He said bitterly. "Sounds almost like The War. Pets...?" He furrowed his brow as he counted. "Uh. A wolf, a cat, a sugar glider, a dragon hatchling... and one angry russian, Sergei Dashkov." He laughed at his own little joke. "Why do you ask?"

Hramn hmmed quietly. "Sounds almost like what happened to me, minus the hell element to it. I owed a friend a favour, and that was how I got into the spy business on his recommendation." At least what he was saying then, didn't matter now; his life before the Age was simply fragmented. "It went from owing a favour, to helping his boss, to actual employment." By the time he realised that he was in too deep, he had no choice but to remain - he had not had the skills or metaphorical balls to try.

He nodded. "Partially. We had advanced enough then that we could make people live twice as long, remove terminal illnesses and give them minor enhancements. Of course, that was only if they could afford it. What I went through was part of a super-soldier programme. Beastie..." His tail flicked a few times, although whether that was him or the creature doing it was another matter. "...was an accident on their behalf. His kind are... ancient. Rarely recorded. Even a nuclear bunker and a six-foot thick steel safe couldn't hold one back for more than a century or two at the most.

A brow rose then. "Dare I ask about the Russian?"

"Some shit isn't it?" He laughed and gave a shrug of his shoulders. "Can't win for losing, am I right? There are some assholes in this world. Well I can't say much, I used to be one of the most horrible. A spy, eh? That always seemed like a romantic job to me... idealistic and fun you know, when I was a kid." A laugh and a shrug. "But then again I also thought being a police man would be cool, so I could beat up bad guys... funny how things change huh?" He glanced upward towards the trees towards the sun. "What time do you figure it is? "

"Sounds like a bitch... did it hurt? Or do you remember? The.. enhancements or whatever it was they did to you? And him?" Another jab to the tail. "I know transforming isn't fun for me, does it effect you at all? And.. crazy as it sounds.. I like having a tail. It's fucking awesome isn't it? Just swaying back there and whacking people across the head with it.. man I love my tail. Mine has spikes so I can slice people's legs at the calves." He chuckled and then ended it with a ferocious coughing fit into his elbow until it was wet.

"Sergei? He's my newest slave of sorts." He laughed. "He used to come around a lot and piss the both of us off but I kinda liked him.. he's cute and adorable to me. So I offered him food and shelter and a bed if he became my slave and bathed regularly and he said okay. So he'd god a dog bed in the corner. I collared him and he does pretty much anything I say with some coaxing, as without me, he's homeless and starving. Gay in denial too, those are always fun to exploit."

Hramn chuckled. "I was a historian at first, believe it or not." Very hard to believe now, but he had been a lecturer and published at the height of his career. "Let's just say that finding out dirty little secrets in people's cupboards was a hobby that got out of hand." He paused, then looked up as well. "Getting on to near six I'd say." The bonus of the island being tropical was that they probably had until seven before it actually got properly dark, unlike in his home where it turned dark anywhere between five and six. "We'll keep going for half an hour, then make camp."

He paused, then shook his head. "I don't remember much of the actual process, but I can't remember any pain. The only painful transformation I've had was when Dussander infected me." By accident of couse. "But it didn't work. My genetic code is locked; it's already been fucked with, and can't be added to or changed." The creature didn't count, that was more like an infection of his body rather than his dna - if it so wished, it could take another host. "I transformed partway into some sort of... rat-crow-man thing, then reverted back. Left a mess of blood, tail, fur and feathers all over his bed at the time." He winced, shuddered then shook off the feeling. That had only happened once. "Hasn't happened since, but this might be why." He tapped one of his temples.

A snicker followed. "Have you been doing the deed yet and got interrupted by one of your pets? That's always a first."

"A historian? That sounds boring." HE furrowed his nose in disgust. "What did you do.. sit around and read books all day? Good god I feel exhausted just thinking about it. Though.." He made a gagging face. "I did work on a farm for a while.. as an... artificial inseminator." He shuddered. "I quit after a week and moved back to the city to try and find a job again. I couldn't eat beef for about five years after that." Thinking back on it now conjured up some frightening images and made him gag. Idly, he wiped his hand across his forehead and checked the wounds on his chest. "I need some water to clean this, unless you'd like to volunteer to lick me clean." He winked.

"Rat-crow. That sounds like a poorly funded sci-fi horror movie." He laughed put then waved a hand at him. "Not meaning that offensively of course. I have no doubts that it was a horrific experience.. but so that means you are normally... a crow? Are you a were? I suppose that would explain the name. Wenn eine Taube zu assoziieren mit Krähen beginnt seine Federn weiß bleiben, aber sein Herz wächst schwarz." He mused, giving a shrug of his shoulders and picked at his teeth. "I forget you don't speak German. 'When a dove begins to associate with crows its feathers remain white but its heart grows black. ' is what I said. And half an hour sounds good to me."

To the question he laughed. "Oh yes. There's nothing like getting intimate then suddenly feeling a cold nose on your ass. Or worse, recently the hatchling decided my nipples made good chew toys. Always fun. Then Sergei used to LOVE to come in and interrupt us.. so now every time he purposefully tries to delay us I make him join." he mused.

Hramn grinned slightly. "I suppose it was the thrill of finding something new, or the possiblity of it, with every page turn. Questions that had not gone answered for centuries, mysteries being pieced together over time as we put the puzzle pieces into place." He grimaced at Shojah's job however. "You win with that one."

He shook his head. "Not quite. I was originally human, but they put the genetics of a crow shifter - known as a Corax - into me. They are born into the world of shapechanging. I gained claws.." He raised one of his hands and waggled his fingertips as though to demonstrate. "Better eyesight, heightened senses and eidetic memory." He smirked. "The feathers of the Corax were originally white, so far as legend goes, but they grew black when Crow flew too close to the sun." He was, despite those tidbits, not going to mention that he was not just allergic to silver, but to gold as well.

He winced. "A dragon nipped your nipples? That's an easy way to get a free piercing."

"Sounds boring if you ask me, but then again I never really cared for books... And No, I enver want to win any kind of award for that job. It's something I had managed to drown in alcohol until now." And speaking of alcohol made his hand go immediately for the flask on his hip, and he took a quick gulp from it and ran the back of his hand across his mouth. "That kind of stuff doesn't interest me. The only reason I would care about the past was if it helped me make money in the future. But to each his own."

"Ah, I thought the claws were from the beast." He nodded, observing them with interest. "Sounds akin to uuh.. oh what was.. Icarus, that old story if you know it... So.. don't like fire?" He jested and held out his hand, snapping his fingers to call a flame to his fingertips, and waved it in front of his face. In doing so however, the movement blew out the pathetic flame almost instantly. "Heheheh. Stupid power isn't much good for anything other than lighting cigars." He shrugged.

"They already were." He grinned. "Don't wear them often since these tunics and my old suits were kind of tight.. tended to pinch." He explained. "Oh lord, I have more piercings in my body than I do bullet holes, and that's saying something.. they became popular a few years back and I did have.. a large amount. I decided they looked gross adn were too much of a hassle though so most of them grew back, or I've died since then. Piercings don't come back in the next body and whatnot.

Hramn eyed the flask, and scowled. He very nearly swiped it clean out of the demon's hands. But, given the circumstances, a little bit of tipple would not do any harm, and would not significantly accelerate the disease already rotting away the demon's liver. "I suppose, after I was employed by the military, I found that the past helped me to repeat mistakes that we have made before." He had even somehow managed to get permission to go rooting through the archives, which had allowed him to make a few subtle suggestions to change tactics.

He shook his head. "The beast makes them sharper, but I've always had them." He gave a slight, lopsided grin then for a moment. "Icarus and his father, who in their bid to escape from imprisonment, made themselves wings made from candlewax and feathers collected. They worked, and flew. Only Icarus, in his arrogance, flew too high. The heat of the sun melted the wax in his feathers, and he plummeted into the sea, only to drown." Smartass, one could have distinctly heard the subtle smugness in his voice as he effortlessly reeled it off.

He arched an eyebrow up. "Don't tell me you pierced your..." His eyes flicked down. Then he paused, cocked his head, then looked towards the sky. "We should find somewhere to make camp. By the time we have made a few structures, got a fire going and gotten some food, it'll be dark."

He shrugged. "Different strokes for different folks. Then again, I have the good fortune of being able to come back and revise my tactics if trying them out in the battlefield doesn't work the first time." He chuckled. "People learn by doing, not reading." He argued, and that was his honest opinion on the subject.

"I know that." He scoffed. "What I am saying is this: both had wings and were scorched by the sun, signifying pride in Icarus's case and evil temptation in the way of your Corax was it? Something like that.. dear lord I feel like I'm back in school, stop that." He flicked a hand at him in feign irritation. "This is literature class all over again! Allusion, symbolism.. bah, stupid stuff."

"I did, at one point, multiple times." He laughed and rolled his eyes. "If it could be pierced most likely I did so at least once.. I once had.. what is caleld a Jacob's ladder. Thinking back on it, it was a god awful thing and much more pain than it was worth and just.. disgusting. I have no idea why I thought it would be good. Where do you suggest we stay? Find some rocks to bed under in case it rains?"

Hramn cringed, and his one leg almost came up a little as well to try and shield his genital area subconsciously. The thought of piercing there just once was disgusting enough, ever mind to make a ladder. "The hell possessed you to do that?"

He shook his head. "A few trees stacked together into a half-mood shape for the door, a hollow for the fire to go in and the back end stacked with branches, then padded out with leaves. That'll act as an insulator for the fire." Someone had quite likely watched a little too much Ray Mears during his years on Earth...

Shojah saw him cringe and laughed, shaking his head at himself. "Oh lord.. at the time I thought it wsa sexy and would perhaps.. add a little spark to the bedroom. Quickly found out that was NOT the case." He grimaced and gave a painful shudder. "Painful to get, cumbersome to remove, prone to infection, hard to clean.." Probably more information than Hramn had wanted to hear. "Just not worth it in the least. And then if you took them all out.. it just looked..." He shook his head, not wanting to go into details. "And healing.. just... uuugh."

HE stopped and looked around their area in survey with a grunt, nodding at his instruction. "Alright, I'll go see if I can't uproot some small trees." He grinned, flexing his arms. "And you find a good place to set up camp, and I'll be back. Keep an ear out in case I lose your scent and start hollering." He nodded, tapping his nose before taking once last look around before heading towards the trees unless stopped. "Will any kind of tree do? What if I find some old dead ones?" He called over his shoulder.

Hramn, give him some credit, managed to endure about a minute of Shojah's talk about willingly mangling his own penis. Finally... "Look, I get it, it was a bad choice, alright?" It was enough to make him feel like his own genitals were tucking themselves up closer to his body and behind his kidneys out of sheer fear.

He shook his head. "No, old dead ones would be useless. Any branches that have fallen off through the wind is fine, but not ones that are rotting. They won't do for firewood either, they'd produce too much smoke." He then began to walk off, to search for a spot. Finally he found a small thicket, after kicking down a particularly stubborn thorn and gorse bush - that alone would deter some predators. He began to scrape out a hollow for the fire, using his claws to do so.

He demon would bellow loudly over his shoulder in laughter at hramns disgust. He had experienced it firsthand and would never do THAT again. He had grown up a lot in he past few decades! "Oh I should tell you about the time my tongue ring got infected by giving oral sex to a cheap whore in..." his voice trailed off as he went walking off into he woods.

He didn't roam far, he didn't want to be lost, so he stayed within hearing distance of Hramn as much as he could. He spotted a palm tree that was a few. Feet taller than himself and rolled up his sleeves. Hramn had said trees, right? So he tackled the tree with enough force to start to uproot it, ripping open his recently clotted wounds and knockimg him flat on his ass. On e he recovered from his daze, he got up and pushed the tree until veins pulsed on his arms and he had uprooted it. After resting, he carried it back to Hramn, already sweatin again.

Hramn still unfortunately heard the oral comment, and gave a look of very clear disgust. "Why didn't you pay out a little more for a decent one?" He had no issues with anyone specializing in that[/u] profession, but it made some sense at least to go to more reputable ones rather than ones that barely split the pocket.

By the time Shojah would get back to the camp, Hramn would have gotten some of the framework of the shelter done; a half moon shape, with a hollow before it into where he had started to gather a pile of wood for the fire. He'd also dragged over some mosses and so on, enough ready to make a lining of sorts to give them warmth between their bodies and the colder ground.

Shojah came back with the tree and frowned, throwing it to the ground. "Well damn." He commented. "Did you need me for anything at all?" He chuckled and wiped his brow. "Do you need another fucking tree or did you just send me off to be rid of me, he grinned. "Here, when you're ready to light the fire," He snapped his fingers, conjuring up another tiny, feeble flame. "I can do that. What else do we need for the night?" He asked, looking over the shelter with a nod, placing his hand on his hips before hacking into his shoulder. "I can take the watch, for the whole night." He offered. "I don't need to sleep very often.. and I just slept recently." Pointedly leaving out how long he could go without sleep. Hra didn't need to know that.

Hramn smirked slightly. "Get a few more of the leafier branches..." He pointed towards a few piles here and there where they had naturally fallen. "... they'll make good insulation.". Then he properly eyed the literal tree that the demon had brought. "Not quite that big." Tree to Hramn was something that a single (mortal) man could still manouvere about and carry without damaging himself. "We need to double-layer the back, to make sure no gaps at all are present, with the leafier branches. The moss on the ground will also keep us off the dirt, which'll provide a layer of heat." He paused, then left briefly.. grabbing a few gloved handfuls of something nearby.

"I know it's not cold yet, but even with the fire, we'll need something in case. These are nettles." Yes, the stinging sort, hence the gloves. "What you do is, you crush them up, then rub them on your body. The stinging and prickling sensation, warms you up!"