A Pixie's Plight (Nivanswrywyllian, Alice Falling)

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Nivansrywyllian, Aug 9, 2014.

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  1. In a daze, he flew. Through the night, and into the next day he flew. Bone-tired, his strength began to fail. The faerie mounds were far behind, and he was lost. The sky overhead was dark, and tumultuous. It promised a torrential downpour, and lightning besides. Everything seemed to have grown larger over the last few hours of travel. The trees, and the grass. Even the creatures of the forest. He needed to find shelter.

    He came to a great, manmade structure, and sought entry. The windows were all enormous, but more importantly, they were closed. The door was impossibly large, and the handle was nearly as big around as he was tall. He flew to the top of the house, to find a chimney. It was dark, and it was coated with soot, but it was exactly the way in that he needed. Down the chute he went, tumbling more than flying, until he came out into a hearth, cold for the summer. There were seats for giants around the fireplace, and he wanted to be nowhere near them when their owners returned.

    On he traveled, through strange and mysterious rooms filled with strange contraptions. His consciousness was fading, as he flew towards a door that was mostly closed, looking for shelter both from the storm, and the giants who owned this particular shelter. His wings gave one last, exhausted flap, and he tumbled out of the sky. This would be his end, he knew. He was falling. Something impossibly large, and soft crashed into him, and his awareness went out.

    He had landed in somebody's bed. On somebody's pillow, to be exact, not three inches away from somebody's sleeping face. He was small, small enough to sit easily in someone's upturned palm, He wore soft, supple leathers on his legs, and his tiny feet were bare. At his waist, he wore a bronze sword, nearly the size of a pin. His back sported a pair of diaphanous wings, somewhere between those of a butterfly, and a dragonfly, and a mop of wild red hair hung shaggy around his tiny head. He was covered in soot, and he had a tiny arrow-shaft sticking out of his shoulder. The pixie was in a bad way.
     
  2. She had a long day, an incredibly long day. The neighbors dog wouldn't stop barking at 6 in the morning so she had to get up out of bed, she stumbled to find clean clothes and ran out of breakfast food. She went to work early and left work late, dealing with all kinds of people at the care facility she worked at. She loved her job but recently she had been to exhausted and to down to care about anything. She was miserable, stuck in this impossible rut. A grey cloud loomed over her head but still she managed to smile, even if she felt like slowly her eyes were sinking into the back of her skull.

    When she had gotten home she had fallen right into bed, covering herself up with her thick blankets. She loved the warmth of them, even in the hot summer. She never slept well without two blankets, even if she was burning up under the covers.

    She thought she would have slept the entire night soundlessly, but near the middle of the night she slightly stirred. Dazily opening her eyes she thought she saw something fall next to her face, but it was so tiny it could have been just a light reflection. She let out a tiny sigh as she blinked her eyes a bit more open, the neighbor dog was barking again. Probably at some squirrel! She could never get sleep with this dog barking, it always made her more away.

    As she breathed slowly her eyes opened more and more and suddenly she thought she had gone crazy! Was that actually something next to her? She sat up a bit in bed and scooped up a tiny little creature with red hair as crazy as her own morning hair and dirty as if it was playing around in soot. Whatever it was had wings and... Was that an arrow shaft in it's shoulder? Wait? Did this little thing have a shoulder? It almost looked like a miniature human with a few adjustments.

    She sat up straight in bed and rested her back against her pillow and bed board, holding the small creature very delicately in her hands, "Am I dreaming?" She said in a small whisper, "This has to be a dream." She pulled her hands and the creature closer to her face, confused at what she was seeing in front of her.
     
  3. He was first made aware of his situation when giant hands jostled him. Gentle or not, it hurt to be moved. Pain was radiating out of his shoulder in waves, and his head was fuzzy for the toxins that the damnable brownies had dipped their arrowheads in. His wings gave a halfhearted flutter, and his hand drifted to the sword at his waist. He wasn't going to die without a blade in his hand.

    He had a hard time focusing on his great opponent, who was cupping her hands around him, most probably to squish him. He grimaced, and tried to draw the sword from it's sheath, but his muscles felt too watery to respond with sufficient force. He blinked his blurry eyes, and tried to draw the image of his captor into focus. It was difficult, as the giant was bringing him to her face. He was surprised to find that his captor was a woman.

    Well, if his arms wouldn't work, at least he could deliver some colorful insults before his end. "I thought you giants were uglier." He said, his words slurred with the effects of the arrow's poison. Strange, that didn't seem insulting at all. Unless perhaps giants considered their ugliness a status symbol.

    Little feet scrambled against palms, trying to scoot the pixie backwards, away from the face. Did she have teeth like daggers? Would it be like being stabbed a thousand times? Or maybe her teeth were flat, for grinding, and he'd be crushed like wheat in a mill. Suddenly, it didn't seem all that important, one way or another. His time had come. "Go on then." His voice was lilting, musical, and quiet, though not at all high-pitched as pixies tended to be portrayed. Despite the soot, he was lovely, in the way of creatures of the fae, inhumanly so. "Finish me. I've served well, and I'll not scream, or beg."
     
  4. She inhaled quickly, a sharp gasp, as the small creature started to speak. Her deep blue eyes grew wide as she stared down at the little red hair mess. She marveled at the beauty of the small creature, perhaps that was the one reason why she had not dropped him quite yet. "Oh, darling," Taking her right hand she pushed back the very blonde hair she had so she could get a better look at the small creature.

    Cupping the creature now in both hands she held him closer to her eyes to get a better look, "You can talk? And you don't think I'm ugly?" She laughed a tiny bit, a small giggle escaping through her thin pale pink lips. The girl had always thought she wasn't pretty compared to others. She had naturally blonde hair that curled and tangled in every direction and she had a vibrant splash of freckles across her nose and her cheeks. She was thin but pale she never tanned but burned to a crisp.

    "I'm not really a giant. Though I guess to you I am, huh?" She asked the small creature, tilting her head to the side. She noticed the small arrow sticking out of his shoulder and it clicked that it could be hurting him. Though the draw of his sword made her question what his intentions were. He gave up rather quickly too, oh how fun it would be to see him fight her with that little sword!

    "Can I help you? I don't really want to harm you or finish you as you said. Though I bet you would make an excellent meal," She joked and let out a wider smile but realized quickly that joking probably wasn't the best thing, after all, whatever this creature was wasn't familiar with humans so it was foolish to think he might understand human jokes, "I feel like I should be worried you are talking to me, I suppose I am dreaming. I don't mean to actually eat you. Besides, you can't actually eat in dreams now can you?"
     
  5. The pixie glowered up at the woman, hostility plain on his face. He tensed as her hands drew up close to her eyes. He squirmed over onto a hip, and got a knee beneath himself on the unstable surface of the girl's upturned palms. "You must be dreaming." Insisted the faerie, his head still thick with the venom. "And folks don't need food in dreams, so don't you go gobblin' me up, no matter how tasty I look. It wouldn't do you any good."

    He glanced down at the broken shaft sticking from his shoulder. "If you're of a mind to help, and not chew me, you can help me get this thrice-damned arrow out of my shoulder. And don't pull it!" He added quickly, to dissuade any immediate action. "It's barbed. It needs to go through the other side. And don't prick yourself on it. It's poisoned." Of course, he didn't know whether or not a creature so large as she was would even feel the effects of the poison.

    Letting go of the blade's handle, he tried to gain his feet in the girl's palms. He couldn't very well take off from his knees. "Why are you so difficult to stand on?" He demanded, accusatory.
     
  6. She stared at the creature and couldn't help but feel very sorry for the poor guy. He didn't seem well and from what he said he must be poisoned! She tried not to move her hands around to much so she could hold him still and not injure him anymore then he currently was.

    "Sorry, I can't imagine the palm of my hands would be easy to stand on-" Her voice trailed off, the softness of her voice was not only because it was morning but because she is generally a quiet person. She started to think, if she was going to help him she was going to need her hands to push the shaft out. That meant she needed to put him down somewhere, but the bed is squishy and would not be any more easy to stand on then her own hands. Looking around the room she remembered she was reading a hard bound book, a psychology book, just the other day. And it was still sitting a top of her night stand. "Hold one second." She put him down next to her on her bed and reached over to grab the orange book.

    She was going to need him up to her eye sight to be able to help him, so she pulled up her knees close to her and put the book on top. Creating a nice little platform. Once she was settled she picked up the small creature again and put him a top of the book, "Here you go. This should be easier. Now. I need to push it through, you said? That means I need you to sit perfectly still." She spoke softly but sternly, and added in, "And if you want my help I would appreciate if you talked me nicer. I am helping you, after all."
     
  7. The pixie was a surly sort of fellow by nature, much the opposite of the oft-depicted sprites of modern mythology. He tried to maintain his balance as the giant woman hefted and moved him about, but ended up dropping to his bottom all over again. Finally, -to make it easier on himself- he just kept as still as possible. When the girl came back with a giant, orange platform, and set it atop her upturned knees, the pixie's brows rose.

    Did she keep this for conference with pixies? His suspicion spiked again, and he quieted. He stayed as still as stone when she lifted him to the book, and he finally gained his feet on the surface of the book, though his stance looked unsteady.

    He let his wings stretch, and they fanned out to either side of him in their opalescent grace, before folding together compactly along his spine.

    "Perhaps I was a bit snippy. I apologize. Where am I?" By his tone, he wasn't terribly sorry, in truth. He was however, absent the hostility he'd been using before.
     
  8. She watched his wings in awe the beauty of them. If she was in a dream, it sure was a vivid and pretty dream. She didn't worry to much about the idea of being poisoned either, because it was a dream, right? Nothing could kill her in a dream.

    She moved hair to the right side of her head and tucked back her long bangs to get a better view of him. She pulled him up a bit closer but pulling up her knees a bit more. She decided to push the shaft through while talking to him, hoping it would distract him from any pain or discomfort. Her mother used to hold her hand and talk to her about life while she went and got shots at the doctor, it always helped her.

    "You are in my house, which is in the middle of a small town," She started to push the shaft through but continued to talk, "we are a close community though. And we have a lot of trees and nature. It's pretty and we all know each other here." She pushed it through all the way and smiled, her finger barely pricked on the shaft. It kind of hurt and it worried her, most dreams didn't actually hurt.

    "Well. Is that alright? What else can I do for you?" She asked him.
     
  9. The pixie gritted his teeth as he felt the giant's fingers touch the broken shaft of the barbed arrow. It hurt. His head swam, and his stomach lurched in queasiness brought on partially by the poison, and partially by the pain. The giant was speaking to him again, and his legs began to buckle. The arrow was out.

    Drained by the pain of the extraction, the pixie sank slowly to his rump on the platform that the girl had provided. Blood began to trickle from the freshly open wound in his shoulder, staining the pixie's flesh, and the lovely wings between his shoulders. Too, it left a smear on the book where it landed. "I... I am in your debt, giant. Burn that arrow. Poison. For now, I need... I need to sleep."

    The pixie slumped to the side, and sprawled across the surface of the book, still bleeding.
     
  10. She let out a gasp as the blood smeared across the book, her eyes grew wide and fear slowly seeped in for the small creature. She didn't know how to bandage something so small and she didn't know how much blood loss was actually significant for a creature this size.

    As he fell to the side she noticed he was still bleeding. Carefully she put the book down with the creature on her bed and got up. Walking carefully across the carpeted floor and out her room she made an immediate left into the bathroom. She found some ear cleaners, a roll of toilet paper, band aids, and a small pair of scissors. She wanted to help stop the bleeding but wasn't quite sure what she could use.

    Getting back into her bed she pulled the book back up and gently onto her knees, "Okay, little one. I am going to try to help you. I know you want to sleep but I think we should clean you up." She pulled on the white roll of soft toilet paper and ripped off only a small pinch, twirling it around in her fingers she wadded it up into a small ball. She moved the small creature gently so she could see his shoulder and press down on the wound with the toilet paper. She thought maybe she could cut the band aids to be small enough to go onto his shoulder, but wasn't sure how much pressure that would give to the wound.

    "Hey. You have to let me help you. Does sleeping help you? Or will you bleed out or something?" She asked him almost in a whisper, her voice full of concern.
     
  11. The pixie must have passed out for a time, and when he regained consciousness, he couldn't quite tell how long he'd been out. The giant girl was speaking to him, and pressing something against his open wound. It was soft, he knew, but it did nothing to assuage the intense throbbing of the wound in his shoulder. She was asking him questions. His brows furrowed, as he tried to make sense of the words coming out of her great mouth.

    "Bleed?" He asked, confused. Was he bleeding? He must have been. He'd had an arrow in him. Woozily, he looked down to his shoulder. The arrow shaft was gone. When had that happened? Damned Brownies.

    Back up to the giant he looked, and grimaced with the pain of pressure on his wound. His vision was growing fuzzy. The girl wasn't going to be getting a whole lot of direction from the injured faerie, whose eyes were sagging with fatigue once again. It wasn't long before he was unconscious all over again, although the pressure on his shoulder seemed to have slowed the bleeding.
     
  12. "No no no!" She had hardly gotten one word out of him when he was gone again. "I, uh, don't know how to help you." She wasn't sure if it was possible to get rid of his pain, or even if slowing the bleeding was helping at all. Maybe all he did need was some rest and he would be better, but she couldn't let him bleed out. And she herself was growing weary by the minute, the dream must be changing sometime soon. After all, dreams did go through a cycle.

    She let go of the toilet paper, now with some blood on it, and put it down on her bedside. This sure was one real vibrant and real dream. She had decided to maybe bandage up the little guy. Picking up the small scissors and band aids she started to cut them up into long thin strips. This way she could wrap them around his shoulder, giving both sides some pressure. She picked him up very carefully and began to put different strips of band aid onto him. After about two band aids had been cut and put onto him she finally felt more comfortable with it. Hopefully that would hold some pressure.

    It wouldn't take away his pain though and she felt bad for the look he had in his eyes when they began to droop and he lost consciousness. She let out a sigh and decided to make him a nice little bed next to her. Putting the book down, with him still on top, she pulled out one of her smaller pillows from behind her back. Setting it on the far side of the bed, so she wouldn't roll on top of him, (funny how well thought out she could be in a dream). She then got up once again and went to a linen closet beside the wash room she had been in earlier. She found a small rag that was very soft, one made for rubbing faces, and returned back to her bed.

    She picked up the small creature and put him on top of the pillow and then put the wash rag over him, creating him a nice little bed of his own.

    As she got underneath her covers, after she put away the orange book, she couldn't help but stare at the little guy and wonder how this all could be a dream.
     
  13. The pixie was out for another long stretch. The first thing that he became aware of again, was tightness across his skin. The next thing that came to mind was pain. It wasn't severe, but it was still intensely unpleasant. Softness followed, and the awareness that he was beneath some great, fuzzy blanket. Open came his pretty, green eyes one by one. The giant's At first he didn't know what he was looking at, before the world resolved itself in clarity.

    He was laying on his back, and his wings were trapped beneath him. He sat up slowly, and the throbbing in his shoulder redoubled. Gritting his teeth, he lifted a hand to check at the tightness, only to find some strange, thick bandage wrapping the wound, and the better part of his chest. A quick flex proved that the giantess had not bound his wings, for which he was grateful.

    Still covered in soot, the pixie got to his feet unsteadily. He gave his wings an experimental flutter. They didn't seem to be damaged, so he took to the air.

    Or rather, he tried to. Watery muscles carried him all of a foot across what appeared to be a giant bed, before he crash-landed on a semi-firm lump which appeared to be rising and falling. The giantess, most likely. The pixie lay there in a daze for a moment, before sitting up again. He was getting slowly better, but he was still weak.

    "Goat loving milksops," He cursed to himself, "If I can't take wing soon, I'll go mad." It was strange to hear vulgarities from such a musical voice.
     
  14. She was only half asleep when she felt him fall onto her chest, which raised and fell in her slow breathing. Slowly opening her eyes she was stunned, not only by the odd words coming out of the creature's mouth, but by the fact her dream hadn't changed yet. He was still here. Maybe this was a sign she hadn't finished was she was supposed to do in this dream.

    She grabbed him gently with her hands, rolled over on her back, and sat up. Cupping him gently once more in her hands she stared at him, "Goat loving milksops? You sure speak strangely." Her blue eyes blinked a few times to wipe away the tiredness, "I think you need to rest. You can't expect to make a full recovery right way. You were just hurt very badly. I think? I honestly don't understand what is happening," She thought about it for a second and then cocked her head and stared at him before saying, "What exactly happened?" Maybe to make this dream end she needed to know the whole story and fix it. Yes. That's what it must be.
     
  15. The pixie squawked in surprise when the giantess shifted beneath him, and hands rose around him to lift him once again. Rather than making a fool of himself, and trying to stand in her palms again, the little man crossed his legs and made himself comfortable on his rump.

    "I suppose I should explain what I can." He acknowledged, although a rumble in his stomach gave him pause. "D'you have any bread? And salt?" He asked. "I could eat a horse. A small horse, anyway. A sea-horse." He cleared his throat.

    "What about a name? Do you have a name?" (Short!)
     
  16. She couldn't help but image a small creature like him eating a sea horse, she laughed at her own thought of this.

    Seeing as it was night and her roommates might wake if she wasn't quiet while in kitchen she was hesitant to go and get him food, at least if she was to take him with her. She chewed on her bottom lip in thought. Oh wait! This was a dream! Hopefully this meant they wouldn't wake? Or dream version them wouldn't wake up, right?

    Holding him in her hands she got out of bed and made her way to the kitchen with him. She went do the hallway and turned to her right where a wide open kitchen and eating area were. She put him on the counter next to a loaf of bread where she began to cut it, "Oh, I guess I never introduced myself. I am Eliza, and no that isn't short for anything," Most people thought her real name was Elizabeth or some longer version, but her name was simply Eliza and that was all. It occurred to her the creature may not even understand that comment though, "Oh, but you wouldn't get that. So forget it. I'm just Eliza. What exactly is your name?" She put some bread down in front of him and pulled out the salt shaker. She wasn't sure how the little guy was going to be able to use it seeing as it was about the same size as himself.
     
  17. The pixie licked his lips, and eyed the bread as it was cut. He wasn't sure if the giants of this realm observed the customs of the fae, but at the very least, he could get himself fed by them. He took to his feet carefully, and moved to pick up the chunk of bread between his hands. He took an almost comically large bite out of it. Over to the salt-shaker, he meandered, although he eyed the metal top on it warily.

    "Well, for starters, I was off mindin' my own business, playing keepaway with a selkie, when out of nowhere, a band of brownies shows up, and armed to the teeth besides. Would've been safe were I at home, but I can hardly be faulted for frolickin' when my feet get to itchin'. Well, with hardly a 'how d'you do', they pulled bronze, and said that all undecided fae must declare. They were wearin' Summer colors though, so it was hardly a question as to what they'd do if I decided to 'declare' incorrectly."

    He still hadn't touched the salt-shaker. "D'you suppose there's any iron in that metal?" He asked, distractedly.
     
  18. She laughed at the small creature as he took a bite of the bread, maybe she should have cut it into smaller bits.

    She was excited that he was going to share his story with her too but she stared blankly at the creature while he talked. Brownies? Selkie? What exactly was he doing that got him into trouble? She barely understand what he was saying, what she managed to get out of his story was the ideas at the end. He was an 'undeclared' fae and these other faes, or brownies, wanted him to be apart of them. Or something like that? Maybe she was shifting dreams now because nothing was making sense.

    "Iron? Um, I don't know. It's just metal to me." She shrugged her shoulders. Changing subjects she spoke, "So is there a war going on or something?"
     
  19. The pixie narrowed his eyes at the salt shaker. "You may call me Kipli," Said the fae, approaching the salt-shaker. He selected an errant grain of salt resting on the cap, and took it in hand. He then proceeded to eat the grain without so much as another word. "I accept your offer of the Obligation of Guest and Host. I will raise no blade, nor magic against you or yours while I remain beneath your roof, and I shall lend myself in your defense, should trouble come to visit while I remain. Everything I see, and hear within your walls will be sealed to my mind alone, until such a time as you give me implicit permission otherwise."

    Kipli sat himself down on the counter, and let out a sigh. "Yes, I suppose there must be a war on. Or rather, if there isn't, there'll be one soon." He paused, contemplatively. "I don't suppose you're a faerie. You'd know of war by now if you were. Where am I? Which territory does your home reside in?" If he was lucky, he could ride out the war here, claiming guestright for as long as the woman would allow him.
     
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