Fun time.

[Laughing Man]

The sky was a lurid lavender. The clouds, deep rich purple and hues of grey, parted and clustered rapidly then moved off in random directions, like a cascade of puffy creatures running from a predator. The grassy field was a vivd gold, endless with stalks of wheat swaying gently as the pressure changes shoved wind over the sea of stalks gently.

The young Half Elf sat up, eyes adjusting to the harsh, black sun above as it spread its light gently over the serene view. The wind was warm and soft on Minh's face, his black hair fluttered in the wind. Wait. Hair? Yes. He had hair... It was flowing freely, long and loose, and straight, jet black. The sensation of the weight on his usually blad head was odd. It was nice, though and brought a smile to the Harlequin's lips. He was naked, though. No onger clad in his patterned outfit, but he was naked, bare of even his tattoos which normally covered his limbs and body entirely.

The young Half Elf turned and stared quietly. The moon rose next to the sun, then they came closer. As they did, the moon opened, splitting outward like a blooming flower with only four petals. The four petals came into clearer view, and two ovals appeared on the top and bottom, then the moon shaped itself into a greyish moth and night started to play over the land. On the right side was night, soft and gently, bathed in the moon's pale light, and on the left was the Sun's light, harsh and yellow, cutting down. In the middle stood Minh, between both worlds.

The sun responded to the Moon's form change by shifting, blackness spreading outward like an amorphous splatter of blood before congealing into the shape of a man. But the man had wings, claws, and a twisted grin against his jet-black shape. It reminded Minh of something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. The Half Elf sat down in the field and stared as the two forms approached each other. On the left side, the sun side, the fields began to catch aflame and screams of tortured souls echoed across the realm. On the right, the forest creatures, bears and pumas, and even fae assembled in a long line. Suddenly, from the left, an army of ghoulish terrors burst forward from the burning fields, brandishing hellish-looking weapons and rusty dagger, pitchforks, and swords. They seemed incorporeal, both sides, as they charged each other.

In the sky, the moth and demon man swirled and dove, flickered around each other and every now and then clashed, spreading sparks and embers down over the fields as their respective sides clashed below with Minh sitting in the middle, watching.

Suddenly, Minh felt the weight of a sword in his hand, and he looked at it, then glanced up in time to jump away from a swipe of a large, crudely-built cleaver swinging from one of the hellish creature's fist. It felled stalks of wheat, sizzling where it touched and catching some stalks alight. The beast recovered as Minh rounded back, and raised the silvery blade to block the blow, but was shoved back by the sheer weight and force of the two-handed cleaver's swing. The weapon fell away from his hands, and he seemed to move slowly. But he didn't jump for it.

The beast stood over him and screamed in a guttural, menacing hiss of sharpened teeth,

"Pick up the sword!" it roared. Minh's eyes were wide with fear, he swallowed bile and shook his head,

"No. I will not." He said when his voice found itself,

"Then you will die!" He roared with inhuman laughter, raising the cleaver. The sword was within arm's reach, Minh knew he could lift the blade and block it with little to no effort, and so he did. The weapon came easy to him, blade swinging up to slice the beast's arm at the elbow, ichor and blackish blood spilled over the Half Elf and with another slash, the creature fell back.

Blood flowed freely from the fresh wounds and dripped from the blade's edge. Minh turned to walk toward the night side, leaving the creature to its fate. Then he heard coughing, and a weak voice,

"Minh." It said his name. But the voice was feminine, soft. He turned as fears rose like mountains in the pit of his stomach. The curved saber clattered to the wheat as Minh was shocked with horror: on the ground lay Sylvia, covered in blood, missing her right arm and clearly dying. She coughed again, blood pooling around her lips as she struggled to stay alive. The Half Elf rushed to her side and fell, leaning over her as hot tears flowed down his cheeks unbidden. The world ceased to exist around them, and as he scooped his arms under the prone form of Sylvia, he prayed to Desna,

"Please, spare her life, and I shall never raise another edge to anything for as long as I draw breath, please, Goddess of the Travels, of the roads and of the night, spare this innocent." his voice came out in coughs and sobs and the body disappeared into the air. Minh stood up once more as a bright, harsh light bit into his retinas, he knew from experience that he was waking now. This was how it always ended. Off in the distance, the only star in the sky was solid red, like the color of blood and war. He didn't know what it was, but it wasn't a star. It was a planet. Which, he would learn another time. For now, the red light filtered brightly until it covered everything and he was awake once more.

Waking up on the ground of the small, wooden house brought the pain of his wounds into full kilter. His chest throbbed and stung, his minor scratches and bruises added to the agonizing sensation of being alive, and for a while he merely breathed.

It was only when he realized someone was standing over him that the Half Elf raised his head to peer forth, and he realized he was staring at feet,

"Wh-" He tried to talk, but stopped as pain erupted from his chest wound. The Harlequin laid his head back down,

"Who is it..?" His voice surprised him, weak and beaten, tired. It reflected how he felt. His muscles were strained and heavy, his arms wouldn't move, and his entire body was aching and flaring with pain. He was stuck to lay there, suffering for now, at the mercy of whomever it was over him...

[boomdeboom]

He didn't respond to her call, and so she could only wait for him to wake. From the way his eyes twitched under his eyelids, she could only assume that he was having some sort of nightmare or perhaps a powerful dream. Who was to know. She pondered what sort of dream he was having as she waited. This distracted her from the dire situation, even if it was only for a few moments as her thoughts went away once Minh had opened his eyes.

She felt happy and relieved at first, seeing that he was indeed alive, but from the sound of his voice, which made him seem so vulnerable, her happiness went away and was replaced by her worry. In reaction to her worry, more tears appeared and began to drip down her chin. This realization that she had made him like this, so weak, hit her hard once again and almost made her sob again, but she refused to break down. Spying his wound, which was bleeding at an alarming rate, the last thing he needed was a blubbering useless girl. She was determined to help him, although in her current state, she wondered how much she could actually help him.

Because she was crying and holding back sobs, her throat closed up again, making it so she couldn't speak once more, so his question went unanswered as she picked herself off the ground and began to look around. Unsure as to how one would close a wound, she was left dumbstruck for a while until she remembered the rubbing alcohol that Minh had used earlier. And the water. She would copy what Minh did. And so, with a plan, she made her way outside into the rain, found the bucket which was half way full of rainwater and the rubbing alcohol, although it only had a small bit left. But it would be better then nothing. With these in hand, she slowly trudged in the rain, careful not to slip on the now muddy village road.

Once inside, she bent beside Minh again, although she winced from the pain which shot up her legs. Leaning forward to catch her breath, she pushed back her dripping hair which was sticking to her face. She would need a good long bath in a river after all of this. Looking towards his wound, she hesitated for a moment before she ripped apart the knot which was tied around the wound and some of his clothing which was preventing her from fully accessing the wound. Once everything was taken away, she saw how bad it truly was. It was a heavy wound, bleeding heavily, especially since the knot which had held back the blood was gone. She had to move quickly. Swallowing, she reached for a cloth beside her and washed it in the rain water before applying it to the wound and wiping away most of the blood. She had no idea whether this was the right way or not to properly clean a wound, but she only hoped it was. Once she had wiped away most of the blood, she cleaned the cloth again and applied the remaining bit of the rubbing alcohol on it. Coughing to loosen her throat, she spoke slowly, trying not to let a sob break free.

"T-This is g-going to h-hurt M-Minh. . .just b-bare with me. . ."

[Laughing Man]

Hearing was always the first thing to come back. When waking up from unconsciousness, or slumber. It was always the sense of hearing that reared its head first, like a groundhog on look-out to make sure one was not in danger after the vulnerable process of recovery. And so it was Minh's hearing that picked up the sounds of sobbing.

Sobbing? Why is someone crying? It sounded feminine. Sylvia? He could have no way of knowing, his mind ran too rapidly to cover the pain, and his body twitched and throbbed further. The young Half Elf whimpered ever so slightly as the form seemed to retreat into the sound of rain and water. Had she left him? It was probably for the best. He wouldn't be able to look at her after what he'd done to the young woman anyway.

Minh sat for a moments of pure pain and mental anguish, beating himself up and saying that perhaps it was best she left. It still didn't do anything to quell the sinking feeling in his stomach that he'd lost his only friend, but he could deal with that if it meant she survived.

So it was to his surprise when the footsteps came ambling back in toward him. He wanted his mouth to move, to scream at her to leave, but then she started touching his wrappings. Pain shot up through his chest and he winced, letting another whimper roll from his throat. His chest was entirely tattood in the same fashion as his face and neck, indeed the entire thing was connected over his entire body. Looping, soft curvs that were accented with harsh edges, painted in ethereal dusts which glowed oddly in the moonlight. But there was none here, and so they stayed their dull, pale color.

The young Half Elf barely registered what Sylvia was saying to him, but as his leather Harlequin outfit was ripped away, and his pain-and-exhaustion-addled mind pieced together what just took place, he realized she was about to apply rubbing alcohol, and braced for it.

[boomdeboom]

Not expecting a reply, she allowed a few seconds of hopefully him bracing himself, because with a wound like this, she knew that it would hurt like hell once the cloth met with it. Of course, it could already be hurting quite a bit, so maybe it would make no difference. She hoped so, as the whimpers which made their way from his throat made her think twice of what she was doing and this could be clearly seen in her expression and her shaking hands. But in the end, she reasoned with herself and decided that even if he were to scream and curse at her, it would be for the best, since he did the same to her. So, inhaling and exhaling slowly, she pressed the cloth to the wound, trying to block out any sound he may or may have not made as she did so. And so after what seemed like a fair amount of time, she took away the cloth and began to clean around the wound. Again, she had no idea what she was doing, so could only hope for the best.

After cleaning around the wound a few times, she took back the cloth and threw it into the bucket, causing the water to splash onto her, but she didn't notice. Since the stench of the blood and rotting flesh began to make her feel ill, she focused on the tattoos which were etched all over Minh's chest, following the curves and turns they made. It distracted her enough so that she no longer felt as ill as before and so could begin to bandage the wound without the fear that she would puke all over it. Which, because it was an open wound, would not be good. At all. Puke and blood usually didn't go well together. Reaching down to her clothing, which by now was pretty much in shreds, she tore off a large long piece, cringing as she realized that she was pretty much naked but put the thought aside as her nakedness was the last thing she needed to worry about, and placed it on the wound, lifting Minh a small bit so she could wrap it around him, and then tied it in a tight knot. Once tied, she flopped onto the ground, letting out a loud sigh. She was exhausted, so exhausted that even the pain didn't bother her as much as before.

[Laughing Man]

He screamed and bit his lip until it bled. He didn't curse, or throw anger about. He was too tired for that. But he screamed. The sound came instinctually as the cloth first touched his wound, sending a sharp, stinging pain through his senses.

His sharp teeth plunged into Minh's lower lip, red welling up from the point and sliding down his chin slowly. The pain throbbed, but dulled itself as his natural endorphins washed over the Half Elf's senses. Time stretched on, and Minh's eyes were wide with the pain, his body was aching, and he merely fell back to the ground, breathing lightly. His skin was more and more pale at this point, due to the blood loss, which further accented the tattoos.

By the time she was done, he had slipped back into half-consciousness, eyes barely open and unfocused, sounds came in odd, thunderous washes of mangled white. Minh felt his body lifted a bit, which caused his senses to sharpen slightly from the pain, but then as he realized she was tying a knot around his wound, he let out a bit of air and fell back to the floor without a fight.

Eyes rolling around, unable to focus on anything until he heard a thump. It was the sound of Sylvia collapsing once more. His hazel-golden eyes followed the sound, focusing onto her and for a moment he watched, then blinked and shut his eyes, letting out a small, sharp cry. She was almost naked...

The harlequin sputtered,

"S-sorry..." He started, his voice still weak and frail,

"I d-didn't know you... Were... N-not clothed." His face didn't flush red, due to the lack of blood, but he could feel the heat under his cheeks and he even started to painfully chuckle, very weak and lightly.

[boomdeboom]

Once she was on the floor, her mind began to relax a bit, because she had done what she could. It may have been a terrible job, but she knew that if anything were to happen, she tried her best. No use worrying over it now, it was fate's turn.

With her mind in a daze, until she heard a sound coming from Minh, something like a cry, although it didn't pierce through her as his other screams of pain did. This one seemed to be one of. . . .surprise? Shock? Embarrassment? Puzzled until she raised herself and heard his words, even though she was in a bad state, her face went a cherry red and she wrapped her working wing around herself to hide her bare body. Snickering, wincing as it hurt to do so, she said in a teasing voice.

"Pervert." Continuing to laugh softly, she then raised herself, grabbing the bucket. Making her way to a tap, she turned it on and began to fill the bucket with water. Her throat was beginning to become dry again, she couldn't imagine what his was like. Once the bucket was full enough, she took the bucket away and then filled her hands with water. She watched as the blood from her hands began to mix with the water, causing it to become a dirty red. It caused her stomach to turn so suddenly that her hands flew up to her mouth to prevent any of the substance which had come up to not come out, but in was no use, and so she began to retch into the sink, her now shaking hands clenching her stomach. Suspicious chunks of meat floated in the water once she had finished, and once again the thought of what she had done a few hours ago came to mind. And, as every other time, tears began to run down her face, but to try and make them stop, she splashed her face with a handful of water.

She stayed at the sink for a few more moments, letting the water drip from her face, and then when she felt ready she turned back to Minh, the bucket now in hand. Rubbing at her eyes, which were still watery with tears, she began to laugh at herself. Sitting down beside him, her wing still tightly wrapped around her, she lifted the bucket up, tilting her head towards it as she asked, her voice cracking as she spoke.

"Thirsty?"

[Laughing Man]

All he could do was close his eyes and turn away, hoping to at least give her some privacy. Still, a weak smile hung itself on his lips, and as he chuckled lightly, it became apparent that his mouth was dry. Bone dry. Even his tongue and throat. That couldn't be good.

His mouth hung open or a moment, trying to taste the air, but it fell closed as he heard Sylvia retching neasrby. Worry struck across his features again, and the young Half Elf tried to peer at her, but then turned away again at the sight of her mostly-naked body. This was quite a spot. Minh opened his mouth to ask,

"...." His voice came out in low whispers, dry and scratchy. It seemed his last few laughs had exhausted what he had left to speak with. Time stretched on and he was fighting between looking around toward her to see if Sylvia was alright, despite her current state of clothing, or just waiting for her.

Eventually his worry won out, and he reasoned it was more important to make sure she was okay. His head shifted once more and he opened one eye lightly, slowly, he was just going to check and make sure she was alright.

Of course, it was to his surprise that she was right there next to him, holding a bucket of water and asking if he was thirsty. Slowly he smiled, trying to nod against his body's advice. This caused the aching, biting sensation in his muscles to spike, and so he stopped, hoping she understood that, yes. He REALLY wanted some water right now.

[boomdeboom]

Since he had nodded, even if it was only a tiny movement, she assumed that he had meant yes. So, leaning forward with the bucket, wincing because the heavy bucket hurt her arms, she placed it just on his lip and then said, getting the sense of deja vu.

"Drink it slowly, last thing you need is to burst into a fit of coughs or something. . ." Though her voice was still rough, she could still speak rather well, which was a surprise to her but she didn't argue against it, since being mute annoyed the heck out of her. Slowly putting the bucket upwards so that the water ran into his hopefully open mouth, she waited until he had a mouthful before she placed it down by her side, waiting until he had finished before she asked if he wanted more.

As she waited, she couldn't help but once again apologize, and since he was practically mute it was the best time without him giving some sort of excuse for her not to apologize. And so looking down, letting her hair cover her face, she said.

"I'm sorry Minh. I-I'm really sorry. . .if it wasn't for me you wouldn't be lying here. . .I understand if you like hate me or something, w-wouldn't blame you. What sort of friend am I huh? Practically killing you. . ." Sighing, pushing back her hair behind her ears, she closed her eyes as she said once more.

"Sorry." After she said what she needed to, she raised the bucket and took a few mouthfuls of water, since giving that speech had made her throat dry again. Then she raised the bucket, pointing to it to see if he wanted more.

[Laughing Man]

Frustration washed over him at being reduced to this. He couldn't move well, he couldn't stand. His mouth barely moved, and was bone dry. His entire body was aching, bleeding in some places, and now he couldn't even drink on his own.

Minh was forced to accept the water, taking only a bit in and holding it in his mouth. He was weak, and some of it poured down over his cheeks, but he allowed some down little by littlle. He was determined not to make any more of a fool of himself. He let his head fall back to the floor as another wave of pain washed over him and he shuddered from it. His eyes shut tight, as if trying to block out the pain, and he let them stay closed.

It was then that Sylvia decided to start blathering about how sorry she was for something she hadn't done. He grew irritated, but couldn't muster the strength to say something. His mouth was still dried out, but at least he felt a bit better.

"I'm sorry Minh. I-I'm really sorry. . .if it wasn't for me you wouldn't be lying here. . .I understand if you like hate me or something, w-wouldn't blame you. What sort of friend am I huh? Practically killing you. . ."

That brought him to the edge, and since he couldn't speak, he struggled to raise his left arm, reaching it toward her face. His blood-stained fingers sought her lips, to stop her from talking, was his intention. Whether he made it or not, he would shake his head slowly at her comments, eyes soft and sad, at the frustration of his position.


After Sylvia took her drink, he would nod slowly, asking for more water.

[boomdeboom]

Seeing his hand raise towards her and the way in which his fingers placed themselves on her cheek, she assumed that they were meant for her lips or something. At the sight of his slight failure, she couldn't help but laugh, although it was weak as she looked away from his gaze, feeling guilt whell up in her. But seeing from the corner of her eye his head nod, she turned towards him again, although she avoided his gaze. Focusing on giving him more water, she brought up the bucket towards his lips as she did before and gave him which she thought of as another mouthful before she placed it back on the ground again.

Looking outside the open door, she was surprised to see that the sun was beginning to set and was casting long shadows in the street. And it was still raining. Luckily it washed pretty much all of the blood that was splattered on the walls and ground, so she didn't feel as queasy when she looked outside. However, with the rain pelting down, she felt herself shiver as the cold began to set in and so brought in her legs as far as she could without hurting too much. Wrapping her wing tightly around her, burying her arms in the warmth and protection of the feathers, she laid on the ground, staring outside. Then, although her voice came out a bit mumbled because her mouth was under her wing, she said.

"If you want more water, just move your hand or something. I'll see it." Returning to looking outside as the raindrops fell onto the muddy ground, she felt very vulnerable. If anyone were to find them, they were pretty much screwed if it was an enemy. She began to shiver at this thought and so pushed it out of her mind, listening to the rain to calm herself.

[Laughing Man]

Minh struggled, his vision blurring before his hand fell back to the side, hitting the floor with a wet plop. He took the offered sip of water and a few more, then let his head fall back down. His muscles were still screaming at his wounded form, and his old ankle wounds reared their ugly heads. There was nothing he could do but lay there in agony.

The only saving grace the Harlequin counted on for his mentaility was that he was apparently hiding it well enough. At least Sylvia was smiling and laughing a bit. That was good.

He shut his eyes tight as she moved away, another wave of pain flashing through him before he returned his face to normal. He coud at least not worry her with how bad the pain actually was. He would just lay there in pain, listening to the rain and watching the shadows on the walls. There wasn't much else to do. Nor much else he COULD do.

[boomdeboom]

Glancing over at Minh since she had begun to get bored at looking at the rain, she saw all the wounds on his body which would take a long time to get rid of, and would probably leave scars. And yet, he said not a word, besides the yelps he let out when she cleaned his wound. Most of his wound looked quite painful, so why didn't he at least make a whimper? Of course she wasn't one to talk, since she was usually reluctant to show any sign of her being hurt. But his wounds did look rather bad, and she was getting a little bit of doubt in her mind whether or not she had cleaned the wound properly. She knew if the wound was infected, it would be very bad.

Curling her toes back and forward, she began to realize that she wouldn't be able to care for Minh. He was still hurt, and she wasn't able to do anything about it. She wasn't even sure if he had broken anything and even if he did she wouldn't be able to mend it. Perhaps it would be best if she left him at a village somewhere. Just settle him on the ground, make a noise to cause a villager to come out and then take him somewhere where he could be treated. The more she thought about this, the more she thought of it as a good idea. Of course it would be a pain to get there, since she would have to wait until her broken wing had mended so that she could fly and it would hurt like hell. But staying here, where it was damp and cold and dirty, wouldn't be wise. So, sounding out her decision, she said, not sure if Minh would hear it or not since she couldn't tell if he had fallen asleep.

"I-I think it's best if I leave you at some village nearby. . .your wounds are pretty bad. . .I'll fly you somewhere once my wing has healed. . ." Then a thought came into her head. Would she see him again? She knew she wouldn't be able to enter the village, since there were posters for her capture in pretty much every village, especially ones that had a hospital since they were usually the biggest, so she would have to leave him. Of course, having already caused this much pain to him, it would probably be best if she did disappear and never see him again, it would be one less thing that would kill him. Though the thought of never seeing him again did sadden her.

[Laughing Man]

Minh struggled for consciousness, but that had faded. He was in a restless, pain-addled limbo between full sleep and waking up now. He wan't sure what she was saying, but he knew Sylvia was saying something.

The hell is going on..?

The world was a broken puzzle, like a picture that had been snipped into chunks and was missing some of those chunks. He swore there was a buzzing, at the edge of his hearing, and faces looming over him. But he couldn't entirely sure. His body felt like a wet rag was laid on top of it. Like his skin wasn't his anymore, and he was simply existing from where his eyes could view the world.

For a while, Minh lay near-motionless. Almost in a coma. He hoped Sylvia would go to bed soon, so he didn't have to watch her being so sad and bored. He was unaware of any plans she had been coming up with.

[boomdeboom]

When she didn't hear a reply from him, she couldn't help but laugh at herself. Of course he wouldn't reply, he was in pain. She didn't even know if he was awake right now. It was like she was talking to herself, going crazy.

Beginning to feel the chill set in as the night drew closer and closer, she thought it would be for the best if she went to sleep to have her wing heal as quickly as possible, because the damp floor which Minh was laying on wasn't going to help his condition. Plus it was not like she could do anything else for him, and seeing him so....fragile was making her feel odd. So, letting out a soft gasp as a twinge of pain shot up from her wing and legs, she made her way to the bed, not even bothering to say 'goodnight' because he wouldn't have heard it anyway.

Collapsing onto the best, she curled into her working wing. Closing her eyes, she buried her head inside her feathers, wanting the day to be over and done with. Tomorrow, when hopefully her wing would be fit enough to fly and carry Minh, she would bring him to a village. What happened after that, who knew.

[Laughing Man]

He prayed. Once again, silently to his goddess. Praying for the safe recovery of Sylvia, for the souls of the damned who were slaughtered in the village. And for those men he'd killed a few days ago.

Haunting images of Minh's thumbs being jammed into the man's eye sockets re-surfaced and jarred the Harlequin from his sleep. The breath rising and falling from his chest was quick, and there was a layer of sweat across his body. The wet, night air was cool and pleasant, but the young Half Elf barely took notice.

His Hazel-brown eyes shifted around the room while his body slowed his heart rate. Slowly the events trickled through his mind like a soft stream. The winged girl, Sylvia. The hunters, the Fae, the flight from them, the town, the battle with the Demon, the despair, and the quiet resignation that this was the end for him.

But it hadn't been...
No, no... You did not think we'd let you go?
You have many parts left in this play yet, child.
You will survive, and you will learn. Or you will die.
We are always here, lurking...

The voices buzzed at him, each one vying for his attention. His mind had shattered itself into personalities in order to protect itself from the horrors of what he had been through and seen.

Minh's mind settled itself once more as he sighted the edge of Sylvia's wings on the bed.

At least she went to bed...

He wondered what their plans were. They couldn't stay here forever. sooner or later a caravan would come by, or someone would return from a patrol and find the town empty. But what could they do? He was in no condition to move, and as far as Minh understood, Sylvia's wing had been broken from the fall.

If he were in her place, he'd probably drop her off somewhere to heal. But as it is, he couldn't do anything of his own power. The Harlequin was left to his own thoughts before gently slipping back into sleep once more.

He would have to hope Sylvia would make the right decision.