![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
NaNoWriMo 2011 Day #21
Words In This Update - 2517
Total Words So Far - 47638
I can only wish now I had been a bit quicker to answer her when she said this. My bottom lip curled over my teeth and my ears stood straight up, body tense, eyes unmoving as they focused on that muzzle. I had a few options. Take the shot gracefully, probably dying. Yeah, no forever. Jerk about and take the shot in a place that I had only wished I died instead. No to that either. What if she missed and hit Lock, instead? She could already be dying, I'd have to be even more daft and insane than I usually am to want to bring that about. That was out of the question most of all. There was a chance I could tackle her and throw her shot off course. No, not enough time. Open my powder horn and toss a bunch in her face and disarm her? Too intricate. There had to be some heroic miracle that I came up with, otherwise I wouldn't be here now, right?
Eh, not exactly. I hate to be a joy kill, but this whole final battle type deal kind of came to the biggest anti climax I'd seen in a long while. Before I could answer with any witticisms as my final words, because let's face it, if I was dying I'd make sure whatever I said last went on my grave, a familiar sound filled the air and a figure landed on top of Yukina's head.
Oh dammit, Mimi, you've ruined my moment of triumph! None of us could see that coming, all staring at each other, entirely in disbelief, almost as if we had to call a truce just to laugh at the absurdness of this situation. Though, to be fair, it may have been just the dumb luck I needed, as she hissed and roared, sinking her claws into Yukina's eyes. Looks like she was the one who couldn't see that one coming most of all. Claws covered in cat piss and sand grains had to be the worst possible thing to rake through your eyes, making Yukina cry out and shake, losing her gun after firing it straight into the air, unable to cock it back before dropping it to the ground in front of her. I raced out to grab it, taking aim, needing a minute to get it in place and placing it on my shoulder. Bastardized dragonkin technology was always the worst to handle, being a disgusting mix of what us elves forged and what dwarves made, hobbled together after being stolen from us. Not to mention it was much bigger, feeling usually like firing a cannon off of yourself. The recoil is a right fucking bitch and it's a damn shame they take such wonderful guns we've made and turned them into monsters such as this. Dragonic improvements, my tight asshole.
But yes, I had only the one shot, and only a second to make my choice where to put it. I aimed for where it'd hurt her most; right where the wing and back meet as she turned her back to me trying to shake the cat off. It would take care of both her flying and fighting capabilities for now, as well as remind her who's on top of the food chain. Chances are it'd hurt like a son of a bitch, too. Serves her right. One second past and I pulled the trigger, watching the spot I aimed for explode in a spray of blood, scale, tissue, and bone splinters. Jackpot! Wait, I thought I didn't gamble. Oh well. Either way, she screeched out, blinded and her wing clipped, collapsing to the ground and hissing over and over as her body squirmed and jerked in pain. After a bit, she stopped moving, going on to just pant and pass out, my awesome having overwhelmed her. I can't think of a more perfect way to be taken down, pride and all. Well, I didn't get my witty one liner, but I'm sure I can sneak one into the history books and make myself sound good. They could use the quote to have kids recite in schools to embolden them for whatever fantastic academic journey they're about to take a part of, especially if it's something amazing and reckless like what I do.
I also just took the gun and retreated a few steps back towards Lock, tearing my cape off and wrapping her wound in it. I don't know if I should have gotten the bullet out first, I was panicking, I think I'm excused. That cold, sticky, empty feeling had not yet gone away, and my gun shook as I tried to keep it aimed just in case on Yukina. I know I'd not reloaded it, but perhaps the clicking of the trigger and such would keep her nervous and down. In my defense, there were more important things to worry about, too. Like saving my damn girlfriend. Why did she have to go and play hero? That was my job, and now if this had a depressing end, it'd have been all my fault, and there's no way I could own up to it. On the plus side, it'd be so tragic nobody else would dream of making me own up to it, either. I suppose these things balance out in the end.
Terrible thoughts, self. Gross. I can't believe I'd be that selfish at this time, but if you were me in this situation, would you blame me? No? Yeah, that's what I thought. Keep it that way, if you know what's good for you, scholars. You'll find yourself living a lot longer if you keep your nose out of my ass and other peoples' dirty business. Brown nosing and rubber necking only both get you so far; there's a point where all you're eating and sniffing is elf shit and all you hear is how tasty it supposed is. Let's not be that guy, shall we? Especially not the guy no doubt pleasuring themselves to that passage just now, having found a rare instance of his shit kink in his research. Note to that guy, I hate you and everything you stand for. I hope you die of some new bacterial infection and they name it after you. Preferable an infection a bright shade of green. Or bluish, to match all the ducats people will make treating others with it after you so thoughtfully die for us and let us study your filth disease.
I sent Mimi back to the wagons, commanding her to tell everyone we'd downed all the enemy fighters and to send medical assistance right away. All I could do was hold Lock close, gun and arms tucked tight around her. For the first time in I don't know how long, I began sobbing. Tears painted my face sticky and red, snot bubbling down me and past my chin, even. All of it soaking Lock's shoulder. She wasn't awake. Her breathing was slow. Or maybe it was just me thinking it was. Time felt distorted then. Maybe it was the stress of this whole damn mess, maybe it was how my body felt, maybe it was the fact I was too worthless to protect her, but the tears just would not stop coming. If it hadn't been for her trying to raid, none of this would have happened. Then again, she was probably only looking for a decent meal. It was my fault I gunned her down. My fault I tortured her and saw her as nothing more than a beast, trying to off me. Trying to ruin my dream.
But without her, I would not be here right now, my dream having been made more of a reality than I could have possibly done on my own. Maybe it's nobody's fault. Maybe, if I had to blame someone to relieve the tremendous amount of guilt that now weighed on me, it'd be Laeshann, for allowing this to happen in the first place. Chances are, this was a destined meeting, and everything that played out just now was supposed to from the get go. Sorry, Laeshann, your tits may be snowy and exuberant and whatnot, saving my life and giving me another chance albeit not without telling me off rudely, yadda yadda, but that's not quite enough to make up for what you have put us all through these past couple of weeks. You better make this worth our while, that's all I have to say, or I'm coming up there myself in my plane and socking you in the nose without a single ounce of regret to my being.
When I saw Mimi coming back on the horizon, two figures were following her. Oh, wouldn't you know it, it was Kattu and Icilina, carrying large packs full of who the fuck knows what kind of drugs and instruments and magical herbal bullshits that they looked absolutely miniscule as people in comparison. I mean, Icilina is pretty short as is, but you'd think she was an ant about to be squashed. Somehow, of course she was just fine. They pulled out some sheets, spread them out, got plenty of bandages and cleaners out, and pulled me gently off of Lock, Icilina offering herself to be hugged instead. She probably thought of that as her grand noble sacrifice in my story, but I'm sorry to say that being cute doesn't quite cut it when I'm not even sure people around me are going to live or what. If anyone deserved to live, it was Lock, for helping me fly higher than I'd ever dreamed. You probably thought that was a sex metaphor. Pervert. Kattu got her on and began to take care of her as I watched, sobbing quietly. After what felt like forever but what I was assured to be only a brief moment in time, they got her cleaned and stabilized, asking me to help carry her back to the wagons. I nodded, taking the gun with me, putting Icilina in the downed plane so nobody got smart and tried to take it, because who would even want to keep her? Worst prize ever.
So I sit outside my wagon now. The dragons we downed in the desert either retreated on their own or with the help of each other, or in the case of Yukina, Kattu numbed her up and brought her back in to be recaptured and questioned on just how she escaped. She could make a useful worker like Lock was for us, forever tied to her sister being far more gorgeous than her. Lock's been given an okay prognosis, so long as she sleeps tonight and gets plenty of booze. I actually asked if Kattu prescribed her to drink massively upon waking, and maybe said some kind of medicine's name instead, or perhaps even juice, bot no, she said booze, citing it will numb the physical and mental pain of this best of all. She's probably fucking with us and just trying to get her and I to fuck again to fuel her little stories, but after bulging that left eye of hers at me again, I'm in no position whatsoever to argue that. Booze it was, and I was told it would only be for Lock. I was to abstain. Not that that's hard, lemonade will forever be a superior choice, but the way she said it concerned me. Also, she had me piss into a jug and taken into her wagon for observation, stating she wanted to determine the cause of my vomiting earlier. Whatever. She can do what she wants with it, even drink it, as weird as that would be, just so long as she didn't sell it to start making a profit off of the fame I had now ensured myself and not giving me a pay cut. I demand ducats!
I'd also spoken to Ikka when we got back, her tone only a bit less bemused than usual as I gave my report and began to write this amazingly long entry. Congratulations and whatnot, she said. I suppose you fancy yourself a hero now, she said. I suppose this means we have to recognize your deeds in saving us and reward you accordingly, she said. I'll have to sit on it overnight or so, enjoying the vintage that you promised to help see that I live to drink and come up with your reward, do come back by morning, she said. How professional. How curt. How boring. I just saved her old, cranky, yet still strangely wrinkle free ass, and all she could muster was a half sincere smile. Note to self, this tribe ain't worth shit saving, unless I get to look cool doing it.
At least they had the courtesy to have dinner ready for me when I got back. I was entirely too starving, and chugged maybe several gallons worth of lemonade. From puking to packing it in, all in one day, how exciting. I hope my gut doesn't turn me in to the biology police and try to kick me over and keep me down for this. It can shut up for all I care. Dreams are exhausting and far too hunger making and sleepy inducing to bring to reality. So I got sauce smears on my diary. Whatever. Just means you future scholars can come taste and share the dinner of a real hero. Eat up, or you aren't getting a shred of lamia cocoa beans and all their derivatives entail for dessert.
I think it's time to call it a night. I'm exhausted. My wrists hurt like a pair of bitches who lost their britches. We'll haul the plane back later. Icilina has dedicated herself to sitting in it all night and keeping invaders away with her magical creepy little girl cooties. The most special kind of cootie. I guess Lock will start her grain and fruit alcohol diet then, as will I get the results of mystery piss test of the new century. I still think she's going to chug it or something for some bizarre spirit journey. If her breath doesn't reek like a toilet when I wake up, I'll be surprised.
Time to go curl up next to my lover and just keep her warm. You all can walk me when I'm not half dead. Could be a few hours, could be a few days. All I know is that is what this hero desires most. No legendary hero treasures for me to inherit and pass on to you prodding assholes. Who needs a sword after you beat all the badguys, anyways? I could have used that when I was battling them! So fucking eat it, chumps. You're welcome to seconds; there's plenty more where that came from.
-Basira Nejem
Midnight of the fifteenth going on to the sixteenth day of the third week of spring in the year 367 which is how many feastings upon of my slit the tribe fucking owes me at this point at the very least
Total Words So Far - 47638
I can only wish now I had been a bit quicker to answer her when she said this. My bottom lip curled over my teeth and my ears stood straight up, body tense, eyes unmoving as they focused on that muzzle. I had a few options. Take the shot gracefully, probably dying. Yeah, no forever. Jerk about and take the shot in a place that I had only wished I died instead. No to that either. What if she missed and hit Lock, instead? She could already be dying, I'd have to be even more daft and insane than I usually am to want to bring that about. That was out of the question most of all. There was a chance I could tackle her and throw her shot off course. No, not enough time. Open my powder horn and toss a bunch in her face and disarm her? Too intricate. There had to be some heroic miracle that I came up with, otherwise I wouldn't be here now, right?
Eh, not exactly. I hate to be a joy kill, but this whole final battle type deal kind of came to the biggest anti climax I'd seen in a long while. Before I could answer with any witticisms as my final words, because let's face it, if I was dying I'd make sure whatever I said last went on my grave, a familiar sound filled the air and a figure landed on top of Yukina's head.
Oh dammit, Mimi, you've ruined my moment of triumph! None of us could see that coming, all staring at each other, entirely in disbelief, almost as if we had to call a truce just to laugh at the absurdness of this situation. Though, to be fair, it may have been just the dumb luck I needed, as she hissed and roared, sinking her claws into Yukina's eyes. Looks like she was the one who couldn't see that one coming most of all. Claws covered in cat piss and sand grains had to be the worst possible thing to rake through your eyes, making Yukina cry out and shake, losing her gun after firing it straight into the air, unable to cock it back before dropping it to the ground in front of her. I raced out to grab it, taking aim, needing a minute to get it in place and placing it on my shoulder. Bastardized dragonkin technology was always the worst to handle, being a disgusting mix of what us elves forged and what dwarves made, hobbled together after being stolen from us. Not to mention it was much bigger, feeling usually like firing a cannon off of yourself. The recoil is a right fucking bitch and it's a damn shame they take such wonderful guns we've made and turned them into monsters such as this. Dragonic improvements, my tight asshole.
But yes, I had only the one shot, and only a second to make my choice where to put it. I aimed for where it'd hurt her most; right where the wing and back meet as she turned her back to me trying to shake the cat off. It would take care of both her flying and fighting capabilities for now, as well as remind her who's on top of the food chain. Chances are it'd hurt like a son of a bitch, too. Serves her right. One second past and I pulled the trigger, watching the spot I aimed for explode in a spray of blood, scale, tissue, and bone splinters. Jackpot! Wait, I thought I didn't gamble. Oh well. Either way, she screeched out, blinded and her wing clipped, collapsing to the ground and hissing over and over as her body squirmed and jerked in pain. After a bit, she stopped moving, going on to just pant and pass out, my awesome having overwhelmed her. I can't think of a more perfect way to be taken down, pride and all. Well, I didn't get my witty one liner, but I'm sure I can sneak one into the history books and make myself sound good. They could use the quote to have kids recite in schools to embolden them for whatever fantastic academic journey they're about to take a part of, especially if it's something amazing and reckless like what I do.
I also just took the gun and retreated a few steps back towards Lock, tearing my cape off and wrapping her wound in it. I don't know if I should have gotten the bullet out first, I was panicking, I think I'm excused. That cold, sticky, empty feeling had not yet gone away, and my gun shook as I tried to keep it aimed just in case on Yukina. I know I'd not reloaded it, but perhaps the clicking of the trigger and such would keep her nervous and down. In my defense, there were more important things to worry about, too. Like saving my damn girlfriend. Why did she have to go and play hero? That was my job, and now if this had a depressing end, it'd have been all my fault, and there's no way I could own up to it. On the plus side, it'd be so tragic nobody else would dream of making me own up to it, either. I suppose these things balance out in the end.
Terrible thoughts, self. Gross. I can't believe I'd be that selfish at this time, but if you were me in this situation, would you blame me? No? Yeah, that's what I thought. Keep it that way, if you know what's good for you, scholars. You'll find yourself living a lot longer if you keep your nose out of my ass and other peoples' dirty business. Brown nosing and rubber necking only both get you so far; there's a point where all you're eating and sniffing is elf shit and all you hear is how tasty it supposed is. Let's not be that guy, shall we? Especially not the guy no doubt pleasuring themselves to that passage just now, having found a rare instance of his shit kink in his research. Note to that guy, I hate you and everything you stand for. I hope you die of some new bacterial infection and they name it after you. Preferable an infection a bright shade of green. Or bluish, to match all the ducats people will make treating others with it after you so thoughtfully die for us and let us study your filth disease.
I sent Mimi back to the wagons, commanding her to tell everyone we'd downed all the enemy fighters and to send medical assistance right away. All I could do was hold Lock close, gun and arms tucked tight around her. For the first time in I don't know how long, I began sobbing. Tears painted my face sticky and red, snot bubbling down me and past my chin, even. All of it soaking Lock's shoulder. She wasn't awake. Her breathing was slow. Or maybe it was just me thinking it was. Time felt distorted then. Maybe it was the stress of this whole damn mess, maybe it was how my body felt, maybe it was the fact I was too worthless to protect her, but the tears just would not stop coming. If it hadn't been for her trying to raid, none of this would have happened. Then again, she was probably only looking for a decent meal. It was my fault I gunned her down. My fault I tortured her and saw her as nothing more than a beast, trying to off me. Trying to ruin my dream.
But without her, I would not be here right now, my dream having been made more of a reality than I could have possibly done on my own. Maybe it's nobody's fault. Maybe, if I had to blame someone to relieve the tremendous amount of guilt that now weighed on me, it'd be Laeshann, for allowing this to happen in the first place. Chances are, this was a destined meeting, and everything that played out just now was supposed to from the get go. Sorry, Laeshann, your tits may be snowy and exuberant and whatnot, saving my life and giving me another chance albeit not without telling me off rudely, yadda yadda, but that's not quite enough to make up for what you have put us all through these past couple of weeks. You better make this worth our while, that's all I have to say, or I'm coming up there myself in my plane and socking you in the nose without a single ounce of regret to my being.
When I saw Mimi coming back on the horizon, two figures were following her. Oh, wouldn't you know it, it was Kattu and Icilina, carrying large packs full of who the fuck knows what kind of drugs and instruments and magical herbal bullshits that they looked absolutely miniscule as people in comparison. I mean, Icilina is pretty short as is, but you'd think she was an ant about to be squashed. Somehow, of course she was just fine. They pulled out some sheets, spread them out, got plenty of bandages and cleaners out, and pulled me gently off of Lock, Icilina offering herself to be hugged instead. She probably thought of that as her grand noble sacrifice in my story, but I'm sorry to say that being cute doesn't quite cut it when I'm not even sure people around me are going to live or what. If anyone deserved to live, it was Lock, for helping me fly higher than I'd ever dreamed. You probably thought that was a sex metaphor. Pervert. Kattu got her on and began to take care of her as I watched, sobbing quietly. After what felt like forever but what I was assured to be only a brief moment in time, they got her cleaned and stabilized, asking me to help carry her back to the wagons. I nodded, taking the gun with me, putting Icilina in the downed plane so nobody got smart and tried to take it, because who would even want to keep her? Worst prize ever.
So I sit outside my wagon now. The dragons we downed in the desert either retreated on their own or with the help of each other, or in the case of Yukina, Kattu numbed her up and brought her back in to be recaptured and questioned on just how she escaped. She could make a useful worker like Lock was for us, forever tied to her sister being far more gorgeous than her. Lock's been given an okay prognosis, so long as she sleeps tonight and gets plenty of booze. I actually asked if Kattu prescribed her to drink massively upon waking, and maybe said some kind of medicine's name instead, or perhaps even juice, bot no, she said booze, citing it will numb the physical and mental pain of this best of all. She's probably fucking with us and just trying to get her and I to fuck again to fuel her little stories, but after bulging that left eye of hers at me again, I'm in no position whatsoever to argue that. Booze it was, and I was told it would only be for Lock. I was to abstain. Not that that's hard, lemonade will forever be a superior choice, but the way she said it concerned me. Also, she had me piss into a jug and taken into her wagon for observation, stating she wanted to determine the cause of my vomiting earlier. Whatever. She can do what she wants with it, even drink it, as weird as that would be, just so long as she didn't sell it to start making a profit off of the fame I had now ensured myself and not giving me a pay cut. I demand ducats!
I'd also spoken to Ikka when we got back, her tone only a bit less bemused than usual as I gave my report and began to write this amazingly long entry. Congratulations and whatnot, she said. I suppose you fancy yourself a hero now, she said. I suppose this means we have to recognize your deeds in saving us and reward you accordingly, she said. I'll have to sit on it overnight or so, enjoying the vintage that you promised to help see that I live to drink and come up with your reward, do come back by morning, she said. How professional. How curt. How boring. I just saved her old, cranky, yet still strangely wrinkle free ass, and all she could muster was a half sincere smile. Note to self, this tribe ain't worth shit saving, unless I get to look cool doing it.
At least they had the courtesy to have dinner ready for me when I got back. I was entirely too starving, and chugged maybe several gallons worth of lemonade. From puking to packing it in, all in one day, how exciting. I hope my gut doesn't turn me in to the biology police and try to kick me over and keep me down for this. It can shut up for all I care. Dreams are exhausting and far too hunger making and sleepy inducing to bring to reality. So I got sauce smears on my diary. Whatever. Just means you future scholars can come taste and share the dinner of a real hero. Eat up, or you aren't getting a shred of lamia cocoa beans and all their derivatives entail for dessert.
I think it's time to call it a night. I'm exhausted. My wrists hurt like a pair of bitches who lost their britches. We'll haul the plane back later. Icilina has dedicated herself to sitting in it all night and keeping invaders away with her magical creepy little girl cooties. The most special kind of cootie. I guess Lock will start her grain and fruit alcohol diet then, as will I get the results of mystery piss test of the new century. I still think she's going to chug it or something for some bizarre spirit journey. If her breath doesn't reek like a toilet when I wake up, I'll be surprised.
Time to go curl up next to my lover and just keep her warm. You all can walk me when I'm not half dead. Could be a few hours, could be a few days. All I know is that is what this hero desires most. No legendary hero treasures for me to inherit and pass on to you prodding assholes. Who needs a sword after you beat all the badguys, anyways? I could have used that when I was battling them! So fucking eat it, chumps. You're welcome to seconds; there's plenty more where that came from.
-Basira Nejem
Midnight of the fifteenth going on to the sixteenth day of the third week of spring in the year 367 which is how many feastings upon of my slit the tribe fucking owes me at this point at the very least