| Welcome to Sekkai Fractures. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Murphy's Law; For Alix! | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 16 2017, 07:36 PM (295 Views) | |
| SemperMemor | Jan 16 2017, 07:36 PM Post #1 |
|
Majestic Space Duck
![]()
|
“M-maybe a little to the left?” A deft hand tugged on the collar piece. It was stifling. The fabric and pinfeathers sewn into it scratched at his skin, but the man begrudged the enormous creature that hovered behind him. He looked down as he fretted with the rest of the elaborate, multi-layered robes, his tongue wedged into the corner of his mouth with concentration. His eyes flicked occasionally to the mirror opposite him as he smoothed a crease. An enormous lilac eye obscured the room behind him. So close and so large, it was easy to see the darker strands of violet that stretched from lid to black pupil. When their gaze met, the darkness narrowed. “S-sorry,” the dragon muttered. Makani frowned, but didn’t lift his head. “Don’t be, dear. It’s fine.” “I only mean, it would have been easier for you to do this with both hands.” “It’s fine.” It really wasn’t, but he stilled his tongue. Makani pulled one last time at his stiff collar. It would be a long trip. His last wish would be to argue at the start of it and let the poor creature stew in his own guilt with no chance to privately gout the discourse. Lumiere’s whispers could by no means be considered secretive. He stepped away from the mirror and went out to double-check the supplies fitted to Lumiere’s saddle. Both he and the dragon were dressed to the nine’s; Makani’s own garments embroidered heavily with sun motifs and gilded feathers. It was gaudy, but it was duty. He struggled to move with any remote sense of freedom. With a grunt, he reached up to pull down the side-saddle and fumbled to count the contents. Soon, the room was filled with mumbled words as he mentally checked supplies off. The golden creature beside him sunk to the floor. Skin sagged along his elongated belly. His wings drooped. His feathers had lost their luster and prismatic shine. Obesity hadn’t prolonged his decline to emaciation. Rather; it had hindered him. A week past the immediate and definitive ration cuts, the dragon had taken gravely ill. The mucous lining of his mouth turned a ghastly yellow. His body grew weak, despondent, and moribund. The mobilization of such massive quantities of fat in lieu of a proper diet led the medics to believe that he was succumbing to something they called “fatty liver.” It hadn’t made much sense to Makani, but at the time nothing really had. Pumping the dragon with sweets, simple sugars, and medically-sanctioned ration increases had saved his life. He returned to health, slowly, and the extra food was gradually weaned away. He grew sick of sweets after his recovery. “Alright, well...we’ll go down to the fields and wait for them there. I sent the bird off with the message for five o’ clock, but I won’t be opposed to leaving earlier if they can manage it. We should be off as soon as possible,” he said. Makani quickly passed through the room to blow out the remainder of his lanterns before beginning the long, and rather awkward, process of mounting his dragon’s saddle. He tried his best not to let Lumiere see his frustration with the straps. “There was something off about Lady Navarre’s penmanship,” he deflected. “It doesn’t bode well, dear.” “Mmm,” the dragon replied. The resonance of his voice carried up through Makani’s legs. Lumiere picked his muzzle up off the floor. The sinuous length of neck bobbed with the weight of his head. The dragon glanced at Makani briefly, then toward the opened canvas flap along the far wall. The little figure seated at base of his neck felt heavier than it ought to. He padded toward the door, stretched his wings, and gently let himself fall into a sloped glide. The sun had not yet reached the horizon, but Lumiere’s flight wasn’t too terrible a replacement. Where nutrition had failed to keep his scales in lustered, vibrant prime, the surging element in the core of his body could not really be hampered. Faint light pressed through the cracks in his sullen, friable armor. It didn’t look particularly comfortable. It brightened as they passed through the deep shadow of the Academy’s western side. He glided down to the fields with as much grace as Makani had scaled his shoulders. His aim was off; too much weight he didn’t need to account for threw his calculations askew. “Ack! S-sorry, sorry! Hang on,” he yelped. He threw his head back to watch his rider brace himself. Muscle memory still served. He skidded hard, tail and neck rolling as his feet dug in and kicked up crunchy, frosted grass and hard loam. “Ouch,” he whined. When his momentum stilled, the dragon picked up his forelimb and shook the ankle. “D-didn’t mean to do that.” |
![]() |
|
|
|
Jan 20 2017, 09:19 PM Post #2 |
![]()
Loves characters who write themselves
|
It was time, then. The woman who glanced back at her reflection in the mirror tucked one last pin into place, securing the mass of dark curls that normally framed her face against the base of her neck. Against the backdrop of stiff fabric and immaculate apparel, gloved hands moved to secure a long row of buttons into place. Over the course of the intervening months Alix’s discomfort with the image of her smartly dressed self had slowly faded. At first the stark ensemble had seemed ill-suited for her, not because of an improper fit, but because it was too commanding, too full of authority for someone so conscious of themselves and their actions. It seemed like a charade, a pretense of confidence that she upheld to mask the roiling mire of unease that always lurked beneath the surface. Even now, as her hands fell against her sides, she could feel her fingers curl reflexively into fists as the knot in her stomach tightened. The events of the past few weeks had done little in the way of mollifying her, but the rider sternly reminded herself that there would be time for that once this business was taken care of. Right now, she had a job to do. “Are you ready Ammit?” she asked, turning. Behind her, the leonine female stirred like a stone gargoyle. Stiffness riddled the Earth’s movements, rendering the protest of her joints audible as she gathered her massive paws underneath her. Like so many others of her grand stature, weeks without adequate nutrients had quickly taken its toll. What little fat Ammit had born was quickly consumed, and the lean muscle that had been so characteristic of her form was well on its way towards atrophy. It pained her rider to no end to see her dragon reduced to such a state. All her life Alix had viewed Ammit as a paragon of strength, an indomitable soul given flesh and life. To have her brought low by such a simple yet insidious chain of events seemed beyond cruel. In concern for her health Alix had tried to convince Ammit to stay, but the Earth would have none of it. This was their first major assignment since their change of career, and come hell or high water she would be there to see it. “Yes.” She replied. The Earth was careful as she maneuvered herself in position of the exit tunnel, mindful of the fact that too swift a movement could bring on a bout of lightheadedness. “Alright, let me find something for Makani’s phoenix and then we can be off.” Heading over to her desk, the rider lifted the top off of a small metal tin. Normally, she reserved the strips of dried sardine inside for the gryphons she used, but she couldn’t think of any reason why a phoenix might refuse the same treat. She aimed a toss in Tesla’s general direction before replacing the lid and pulling her heavier coat off the back of her chair. Slipping it on, she found the will to coax a smile onto her face as she approached Ammit. A loving pat was offered in reassurance as she began the ascent to her dragon’s neck. In the light of their quarters the female’s mane flaxen mane was dulled, all hint of its usual luster gone. A few loose strands even floated to the ground before Alix managed to strap herself in. It was a grim reminder as to how no part of the female’s body was free from the machinations wrought by the Taint. Briefly, a small part of her wondered if open war would be a better alternative to this prolonged suffering. Surely the swiftness with which the battlefield killed must be, in some ways, kinder? Even before the thought passed the rider felt a shiver cascade down her back. Her eyes screwed shut as she shook her head in disapproval. No. War was horrible and life-ruining no matter the circumstance. She of all people should have known that, given what she’d lost. In an attempt to distance herself from the morbid notion, the rider let it be known that she was ready to leave. “The message said that they would meet us in the fields,” she informed. The dragoness rose to her feet laboriously, her initial gait lumbering as she tried to gather up her vastly diminished strength. Once outside the pre-dawn light washed over them like a fog. All around the hands of winter had lent their touch, frosting the grass and freezing the air that left their lungs. For Ammit, the chilly nip in the air was an almost welcome relief. The snap of cold had banished the lingering drowsiness she felt, leaving an awareness that she tried desperately to cling to. Sleep had long since become evasive, and the Earth couldn’t remember the last time she felt fully rested. No matter what she did the same lethargy sunk into her bones, over and over and over again. Exhaling deeply, Ammit plodded over towards where the Celestial had landed. Even with his deteriorated physical state Lumiere still shined like a beacon. As they came closer the female could feel the deep ruts in the earth where he had arrested his speed. Flight must be getting difficult for him then. Even though she rarely made use of her own wings a dreadful ache had settled in her shoulders nonetheless. She could only imagine how any breed besides an Earth must feel. “Good morning Makani, Lumiere,” Ammit greeted as she came alongside the pair. “We are ready.” |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Dense Jungle · Next Topic » |

Player Guide
News Portal
Members
Calender
Gold Shop






5:40 PM Jul 10