blood sweat tear

[imeanforever]

He's moving her to a different court to see if it'll improve her attitude. She's allowed to fly. It's been a long, long time since she was allowed to -

She is only allowed to fly to her destination, not anywhere else. She notices that she is not where she should be, that she cannot progress to where she was told to go, and she careens out of control when her wings won't flap anymore, and she crashes.

---

with Miles (kappa)

with Minus (kappa)

Comments

[thisvorlunatic]

The person she crashes into emits a slightly terrified yelp. He freezes for a moment in confusion and alarm, then scrambles away and turns to stare at her.



This does not help much with the confusion and alarm.



Apart from the unhappy mortal, her surroundings consist of a bit of clear ground next to a pleasant-looking if oddly-architected house. There is a lake visible in the middle distance, with a forest next to it; the forest curves around the house but doesn't come close, in a way that suggests it has been encouraged to leave the house plenty of room.

[imeanforever]

The crashed fairy can't yelp. Or exclaim in pain; she was allowed to fix her wings for the flight but she's still got broken fingers and a black eye. She cannot take off again; she could probably run away from the mortal, but she does not, it seems, have to; she scoots away from the heap of mortal and sits, cradling her injured hand and watching him.

[thisvorlunatic]

He calms down over the course of a few seconds spent watching her; then he sits up and performs a quick, practiced sequence of movements that seem designed to check himself for damage. Flex shoulders and digits and limbs, twist torso back and forth, press on feet with hands. When that few seconds are over, he regards her with a mix of concern and curiosity and ventures a cautious: "Hello?"

[imeanforever]

Silent sigh.

[thisvorlunatic]

She fell on him and he isn't injured. She can't weigh more than thirty pounds. And—are those wings? They appear to be. To all appearances, a fairy has just fallen out of thin air. An injured and not especially happy-looking fairy.

Well, out of the range of possible responses to that, he thinks he'll go with...

"Um, do you need help?"

[imeanforever]

Blink.

[thisvorlunatic]

That looked deliberate. Communicative.

"I'm going to interpret that as a yes." He considers available resources. "In the realm of things I can get you quickly: food? Water? Painkillers?"

[imeanforever]

Blink. Blink. Blink.

[thisvorlunatic]

"I will fetch those things. Feel free to follow me if you can and would like to."

He goes into the house.

[imeanforever]

She isn't usually allowed to go wherever she wants, but she can in fact follow him right now. She does.

[thisvorlunatic]

A couple of turns through the very mortal house, and they arrive in a very mortal kitchen, where her very mortal guide (who is a little shorter than she is - aren't mortals supposed to be large?) fills a glass with water and leaves it on the counter while he fetches a box of pastries out of a cupboard. (The kitchen is definitely built for people larger than this particular mortal.)

[imeanforever]

The fairy waits.

[thisvorlunatic]

He extracts a pastry from the box and offers it to her with a thoughtful frown.

[eversomuchfun]

The location where she crashed is a grassy area populated primarily by a semi-regular arrangement of small stone monuments adorned with impenetrable mortal inscriptions such as SOPHRONISBE ALPERT 1908-1941. There are also occasional trees, and larger stone buildings between those.

Just outside the entrance of one such building close by, a... mortal, let's go with mortal... leans against a stone pillar and observes her with a skeptical expression.

[imeanforever]

She looks at him. She can't really do anything else, can she.

[eversomuchfun]

"Good morning," says the mortal. (It is night.)

[imeanforever]

Okay, she can also look up at the sky. Which is dark.

[eversomuchfun]

"Is there a particular reason you're in front of my crypt?"

[imeanforever]

Yeah, but she can't tell you because you're not a member of her master's court who fits the criteria for someone whose direct questions she has to answer, dude.

[eversomuchfun]

"Oh, so it's like that, is it?"

[imeanforever]

So it's like what?

[eversomuchfun]

He sighs.

"Are you, by any chance, in need of assistance."

[imeanforever]

Blink.

[eversomuchfun]

"Was that a yes?"

[imeanforever]

Blink.