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Private My smile as real as a hyenas

Discussion in 'Centria' started by Magiano, Apr 21, 2019.

  1. Magiano

    Magiano Young Elites
    Musical Magpie

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    25th April
    @The Governor

    Things had taken quite a turn south and if he was admitting that, it was really bad. Ground shaking bad. Trees tried to eat me bad. Attacked by vicious beasts bad. The latter being why he now had a nasty wound on his side, three parallel lines of claw marks stretching onto his back, deep and hurting. Of course he had cleaned it and put bandages on, but he needed... rest. And maybe someone to do stitches.
    But not in this place where magic was running crazy. And not around Robin either, he still hadn't forgotten how worried she'd been the last time. No, it was time for a region change. The countryside of Centria seemed best – recluse enough that people wouldn't know him, farmers less likely to ask questions, fields and barns providing food and a place to sleep even if one wouldn't ask. The decision made the boy had headed over, glad for the convenient magic doors allowing people to travel fast between the cities. Walking around wounded wasn't fun.
    After quite some time wandering through the landscape, trying to find a good place to stay, following a path chosen after seeing an illusion-worker walking it down, interested in this magic for its usefulness, he came across a meadow with cows, some houses in the background – but those didn't interest him. Cows generally were friendly. The stall they had against bad weather was enough for him, the fence no hindrance for him. Carefully he laid his violin case down first, wincing as he loosened the straps of his knapsack. Hopefully no one would come by until the morning.
     
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  2. The Governor

    The Governor The Walking Dead
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    Philip pulled up on the side of the dirt road, killing the engine with a wrench of his hand. He stepped out the Dodge Ram, his forearm resting on the butt of his holstered gun. Not that he expected problems. It was more of a habit.

    Butcher and Adrienne spilled out after him, Raul the German Shepherd leaping out the truck bed with a bright yip. The Governor’s ranchers hefted out a large bale of hay, carryin’ it between ‘em towards the cowshed.

    Philip hefted up a smaller bundle in one hand, leading the way, Raul circling around ‘em, sniffing at the grass and weeds. He must’ve caught a stranger’s scent ‘cos he jerked rigid, ears shooting up ramrod straight. The German Shepherd curled his dark lips in a silent snarl, then loped off into the cowshed.

    Did they have a trepasser on their land?

    The Governor swapped grim, icy scowls with his fellow two-natured folk, before dropping the bale of hay and drawing his silver plated Beretta.
     
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  3. Magiano

    Magiano Young Elites
    Musical Magpie

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    The sound of an engine had him snap out of the daze he had dropped in, likely from the injuries and exhaustion. He knew it was too late to run away, wouldn't he get far with his wounds anyway. So he got ready to defend himself and his precious instrument, pulling the threads of the magic he could access together. There wasn't much, just that illusion worker he'd seen earlier and his scimitars were a last resort, fighting when wounded a problem anyway.
    So instead he used the illusion, shifting his appearance into that of an hyena, cowering in the corner over his few belongings, giving of a low rumble as a warning, hoping it'd keep the dog at bay. The illusion flickered often to how he really looked, a teen or young man in dirtied clothes keeping low, hand pressed against his side where blood had seeped into his clothes through the bandages. Ready to dash and run every moment, mainly scared and a bit desperate. There was no danger coming from him, all he wanted a place to recover.
     
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  4. The Governor

    The Governor The Walking Dead
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    Raul started up barking and howling inside the cowshed, provoking the Governor into charging on in with his two ranch hands. He expected to find a couple bandits tryin’ to steal one of their cows, or even mixing goddamn poison in their water or feed. They hated shifters so much, nothin’ was beneath ‘em. What Philip discovered instead had him jerking to a stop.

    A hyena was crouched in a corner over a bunch of junk, its form sometimes flickering away to reveal a battered young man, clothes covered in dirt and blood. Who the hell? A pity the Governor hadn’t brought Diego along with him, ‘cos he had a similar talent. This guy was new to the ranch. Philip made sure to commit everyone’s face and name to memory.

    “S’awright, Raul,” he called off the dog, holstering his gun.

    He’d give the boy the benefit of the doubt since he was injured and part of the two-natured folk. It was hard not to speculate on how he’d got in this condition. Maybe he’d been on his way to the ranch, hoping to bag himself a home and job, when the anti-shifter crowd had attacked him.

    “Who beat you half to death, son?” the Governor asked him. “Was it humans?”
     
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  5. Magiano

    Magiano Young Elites
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    Of course the dog got followed by people, they rarely walked around on their own on such a territory. At least no one was outright charging at him, his scimitars fearsome looking weapons but the boy despite skill hesitant to use it with no reason. Especially when he could barely hold himself upright. Infection, maybe. Wouldn't be the first time and with the mess of scars on his back constantly spouting open spots he almost always run at the risk of one.
    “Oh, no, I'm not one but the hate isn't that obvious here...” he murmured, dropping the illusion because it took too much of his focus to maintain the magic. “Fairies, the wayward folk, nasty little critters were it, over in the magic lands... figured they might have a grudge, so it's safest here.” The weapons got lowered back to the ground too. “Not going to make trouble, just need a place for the night... I'll be on my tomorrow, I promise” A weak one, given how he'd curled up on the ground, only hagging his few belongings, most important the violin case, close, the other hand still loosely pressed on the wound. Magiano knew better than to ask for much from someone who'd just found him unasked on private property.
     
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  6. The Governor

    The Governor The Walking Dead
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    Fairies?” Butcher boomed out at the injured man, his chortles bouncing harshly in the cowshed. “You’re teking the piss! What kind of pansy gets beaten up by fooking fairies?”

    The Governor turned to glare at his ranch hand, who fell silent, scowling down at his steel-toe boots. Philip had learned the hard way that you didn’t underestimate members of the supernatural community, no matter how small. But that wasn’t why he’d glared at him. He’d glared ‘cos he hadn’t instructed him to speak, hadn’t instructed him to insult a potential ally. Moron.

    “We got a healer back at the ranch,” the Governor tilted his head to study hyena boy. “Private rooms, clean comfy beds, hot square meals. We’ll take you back there in the truck right now… Just as long as you surrender your weapons. I hope you can understand that we gotta take precautions.”

    Butcher and Adrienne took a couple steps towards the wounded young man, Raul wrinkling his dark snout. The three of ‘em were ready to act depending on how he responded to the Governor’s invitation. If it was badly, well… Now… Guess they’d better put this stranger outta his misery…
     
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  7. Magiano

    Magiano Young Elites
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    Magiano almost snorted at the harsh words. There was more than one kind of fairies and especially here one shouldn't assume anything. “You try holding yourself against a forest of the old ones” he snapped back, having some pride in his fighting skill. It was anything but bad, there simply wasn't so much to do against whole hordes of powerful magic beings set out to hurt and kill. Lucky he even got out, thanks to his own magic. And anyway was it none of their business how exactly he came to the wounds.
    At the offer he blinked up at the leader, holding his gaze with unnatural golden, slitted eyes, wavering just a little bit. A healer sounded great. Heck, everything that was a bit more than a cow-occupied barn sounded like a dream and who was he to turn a free meal down? The boy nodded, sliding the scimitars across the ground to them and then proceeded to scramble up and drop a dozen other knives hidden under his clothes or in the backpack on the pile. Better to take precautions, right? Standing, though swaying, he only hugged the music case close. “You're not touching my violin.” Admittedly he might need some help with his backpack, barely able to carry himself.
     
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  8. The Governor

    The Governor The Walking Dead
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    If Philip’d had any doubts, those golden slitted pupils would’ve proven the stranger was a part of the shifter community. Looking upon ‘em made his one good eye feel hot, dry, scratchy.

    He blinked away the sensation, his lips twitching a little at the sight of the weapons raining down into the thick straw. The Governor almost expected him to pull a big machine gun or grenade launcher out his back pocket next. Hyena boy must’ve shed half his body weight.

    Poker-faced and silent, Butcher and Adrienne collected up the weapons, practically juggling with ‘em. Philip was glad he’d brought the pick-up truck.

    “You can keep the violin,” he agreed, his voice steady and vaguely friendly. The stranger had been agreeable up to this point. “Long as you open the case first. Show us the contents.”

    The Governor made a go on gesture with his arms, dropping ‘em to his sides with a slap. Maybe he’d watched too many movies about the Mafia. Men wearing immaculate black suits, trilby hats, unlatching violin cases and pulling out Tommy guns in a bright white spray of bullets.
     
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  9. Magiano

    Magiano Young Elites
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    The guess that his belongings made up half his weight wasn't even that far from true, endless wandering, dangers and more than one day spend hungry leaving its mark. Enough to have others underestimating him, but being hurt and all didn't help that. At least he got to keep his instrument, music was a big deal in keeping him... stable. Happy. Comfortable. Magiano wasn't hiding anything, so there was no issue showing that it really was a violin.
    It only meant sitting back down again, unable to work it one-handed and with the wound at his side influencing his movements too much. Not to mention that the scars on his back restricted what he could do even at the best of times. So he opened the case, careful taking out the delicate and well-cared for violin, the bow, turning everything upside down to prove there wasn't anything hidden inside either. “Good now?” He wasn't sure he'd manage to get up again. Once, maybe, to walk somewhere hopefully not too far away to crash for sure.
     
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