Where I Belong

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by WesteriaVale, Jan 24, 2014.

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  1. Elan didn't anticipate today be any different than his last 8035, give or take a few hundred. The day had started off normal enough. He took his vehicle to work. He talked with his friends. He went out by himself to dinner, then he didn't make it home. One moment he was sure he made a pit stop on the side of the road because his car was making noises. The next thing he knew the ground seemed to slide out from under him. Then when he woke up, for he must have either passed out or fallen asleep, he was tied up and being stared at by what he could only assume were people. Though they were like no people he had seen but for the general shape. They were normal in height and build, but not skin color and the obvious lack of horns and markings.

    There were about five men. All of them looking down at Elan like he was the scum of the earth. None of them were very happy. Elan listened to them as they put their heads together and talked. He could only hear snippets of the conversation. What he could hear didn't make him very comfortable. They talked about his horns that curled over his head before coming back to his temples. They pointed out his grey-ish black skin color and his amber eyes. They pointed out his markings, natural tattoos that were all over his body, that moved. They called him a demon and judging from their tone, that couldn't be a good thing.

    Elan at first hadn't panicked. It was weird and he didn't like it, yes, but his wasn't quite sure it was actually happening. It wasn't until one of the men suggested killing him because he was a demon that he panicked. He wasn't a demon, but he wasn't going to stick around and point it out when they were going to try and stick a pointy knife in him. The "demon" easily snapped the roped and escaped out of a really dingy and old fashioned barn.

    When Elan stepped outside he stopped despite the men inside yelling. It was like he had stepped into the twilight zone. Or the medieval ages. But he didn't have time to gawk. Elan made a break for it. One of the men tossed a rock at him, but it only grazed his shoulder. Elan stumbled around a house and into a woman who screamed bloody murder.

    Elan got the hint rather quickly. Real or not, everyone here didn't like him. It was obvious it was because of how he looked, compared to their strange, pale, and androgynous looks. Elan quickly put together, as the woman's husband came out of the house with a wicked looking shovel, that staying here and looking for safety was a sure way to get killed.

    The "demon" made a break for the fields surrounding the small, quaint, and really archaic farm village. He stumbled a bit over the plants and rocky ground. When someone rose from the ground in front of him, he tripped over them and ended up sprawled on the ground with a curse.

    "Sorry." Elan said as he scrambled back to his feet.
  2. Lyda ran a hand through the tangled hair atop of her head and she grunted in annoyance as she tried to find her brush amongst the many books scattered across her desk. Finally finding one, she gritted her teeth as she ran it roughly through her creamy blonde hair, yanking at the knots until they came free as she scrambled through her room and pulled out a simple pale yellow dress she wore quite a lot. The material was comfortable and obviously well worn, but she didn't care what it looked like. Pulling the dress on and trying to brush her hair at the same time was an awkward feat, but she got it done. Tying a bow at the back of her dress with the white piece of material that wrapped around her middle. Running the brush through her hair one last time before she braided it back and tied it off with a white ribbon.

    Today was like any other day. She had no plans and no one to see. Huffing slightly, she pulled on her shoes - simple shoes similar to flats - before she walked outside, where she was greeted by a deep, menacing sounding bark. She looked over at the large, scruffy, wiry haired Irish Wolfhound as he bounded over to her. She gave a light smile and scratched him under his chin. "Hello Sam," she said lightly and the dog wagged his tail so fast she could barely see it and his whole butt shook from side to side. Chuckling, she walking into the tree line and found a field where she laid down and just stared at the sky. There were perks living away from the town and in the quiet of the trees. She was never bothered by anyone.

    Looking over at Sam who frolicked through the long grass, chasing a butterfly, she grinned and stayed there for a good half hour before she finally started to push herself to her feet. However, a sound of someone running came to her ears and she looked around. However, before she could stand or locate the source, she was knocked to the ground and she heard someone else hit the ground. She slowly pushed herself to her feet as the person apologised and she looked at him.

    What she saw was nothing like she had ever expected. He had greyish coloured skin and horns upon his head. He had amber eyes and markings that seemed to move. A gasp escaped Lyda's lips and a hand move to cover her mouth as she stared at whatever it was standing in front of her. However, being the bookworm that she was, curiosity quickly got the better of her and she stepped towards him, hand reaching up, hand shaking from fear, and she touched one of his horns. "What are you?" she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. She was scared, but she was curious of this beast. she wanted to know what he was.
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