Gretel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
haventkilledusyet) wrote2013-03-04 05:47 pm
haventkilledusyet) wrote2013-03-04 05:47 pm
Entry tags:
1st Fight - [ action ]
[Another New Feather season, another flood of confused new residents. Unfortunately, Gretel has no idea how routine this is for the village. She, actually, knows very little of anything at present. She only knows not to stop moving, to keep going. If she stops to rest now, she won't get up, and it's cold enough that she knows to fear exposure. She hasn't lived this long just to be killed by the cold.
Her body shows signs of the ordeal she's obviously been put through since her arrival. Dressed in only the New Feather gown, there is no hiding the abuse of the elements. Her skin is red from the chill she's fighting, and there are scratches on her legs and hands as well as blood on her bare feet, fresh against the well-worn scars on her body. She's walked all day, crossed the field after waking alone and barely dressed and fought her way through the branches of the forest, guided by a few tall buildings that served as the promise of civilization. Faint traces of vomit cling to her lips and the back of her hand despite an earlier attempt to clean it off. The cause is likely the patch of feathers missing from her left wing.
The fountain glitters in the light of the moon, and Gretel uses it as a focus. Walking all day is nothing new, but she's barely dressed -- especially for this weather -- and has an untreated wound. Or, at least, that's what the damage to the unwanted growth on her back feels like. She has resisted the allure of every source of water, too worried she might slump over and never be found. But the buildings all around her, even dark as they might be right now, promise traffic come morning.
Gretel's throat burns as she drops to her knees and cups her hands to bring water to her mouth. She's shouted herself hoarse as she's walked all day, and now the fatigue is setting in. She's not sure she can even get up any time soon without some help.]
(Two requests for Gretel's first Luceti encounter: please no magic users or non-humans. Either would provoke a very violent reaction, and I'd prefer to avoid that for this thread. Thanks.)
Her body shows signs of the ordeal she's obviously been put through since her arrival. Dressed in only the New Feather gown, there is no hiding the abuse of the elements. Her skin is red from the chill she's fighting, and there are scratches on her legs and hands as well as blood on her bare feet, fresh against the well-worn scars on her body. She's walked all day, crossed the field after waking alone and barely dressed and fought her way through the branches of the forest, guided by a few tall buildings that served as the promise of civilization. Faint traces of vomit cling to her lips and the back of her hand despite an earlier attempt to clean it off. The cause is likely the patch of feathers missing from her left wing.
The fountain glitters in the light of the moon, and Gretel uses it as a focus. Walking all day is nothing new, but she's barely dressed -- especially for this weather -- and has an untreated wound. Or, at least, that's what the damage to the unwanted growth on her back feels like. She has resisted the allure of every source of water, too worried she might slump over and never be found. But the buildings all around her, even dark as they might be right now, promise traffic come morning.
Gretel's throat burns as she drops to her knees and cups her hands to bring water to her mouth. She's shouted herself hoarse as she's walked all day, and now the fatigue is setting in. She's not sure she can even get up any time soon without some help.]
(Two requests for Gretel's first Luceti encounter: please no magic users or non-humans. Either would provoke a very violent reaction, and I'd prefer to avoid that for this thread. Thanks.)
no subject
Excuse me, Miss! Are you alright?
no subject
[She tries to brace her hand against the fountain to push herself to her feet, but her grip won't hold, and her legs won't move, so she gives up quickly.
Even so, there's one thought on her mind.]
Where's [not that she can sound very forceful, but she tries] my brother?
no subject
I am sorry, but I do not know you or of any brother you may have. But, if no one has told you yet... I must tell you that you have been brought into a whole different world entirely.
no subject
But she knows one thing: her brother isn't here. That means...]
I... have to find him.
[After screaming all day, it hurts to talk. It hurts to move, and she can feel the wings -- especially the one missing so many feathers -- pressed against her back, as if trying to escape their own pain by melding back into her flesh through the thin shift.]
no subject
no subject
[She knows that much, knows that ailment too well. Because bloodloss is common in their field. Broken bones, cracked ribs, pulled or torn muscles, dislocations. Common injuries, she can diagnose.
But she does let him hold her arm, leaning into the hold to try and push herself to her feet again.]