Glaw

Peregrine [Closet & Glaw]

"Hey, hey, this is work sweat!" he scoffed with a grin, and he dropped into a chair opposite the doctor and took up as much comfort as possible. "Do ya like the duds, though? Don't I look dashing? Ignoring the smell." He lifted his chin and straightened the collar of his sweat-stained shirt. "World War Two, Air Force, Battle of Britain. You should've seen it, the swarms of planes, the noise and flash like lightning, the incredible rush of --" he stopped, tipped his head sheepishly, cleared his throat, sat up straighter. "Yes, well, right, so the Turk. Or the Arabian. Or -- what did you say he was? He speaks in a ... ah ..." Dorian looked up into his mind for a moment, then switched into Zahir's language. "He speaks like a noble prince of the sands." It took him another moment to switch to Japanese again. "I'm not sure what language that is, just -- well, you're sure he's not ... magical or anything, right? True blue human? One hundred percent average Prince of Arabia?" His smile wavered, and he looked across at the unconscious patient and the faithful horse that guarded over him. He opened his mouth and took a slow breath.

"He came to me," he said with a lingering sense of awe. No one had ever done that before -- he had never known anyone to open a door into the Peregrine without being let in. "He stepped forward and introduced himself as ... ah ... Prince Zahi Akeem Gabir Hakim Amjad. Don't ask me to spell it. His faithful companion there is Anat. He never mentioned what was wrong, and he walked all right with her help -- he said he was about to die, though, so of course I brought him straight to you. Nobody dies on my watch." Agatha. His expression wavered for a moment before the smile returned. "I haven't even seen his home -- I don't even know where or when his home is, really -- I've known him all of a total fifteen minutes. I do know he'll make a full recovery. He strikes me as the sort of man who bounces back.

"But -- as far as your report goes, maybe just set him down as a crazy homeless guy, right? Car accident or -- so, what exactly do you think sliced him up again?" He was sure it had to be a sword. Zahi was a man on a mission, and Arabian Princes didn't go around being all noble about any old accidental wound. There'd been a battle -- and wherever there was a battle, there was adventure to be had.

Just a Fairy Tale | Glaw & carsgovroom

So hey, uhm, I'm kind of running out of steam here. Do you have any thoughts on plot points? Wanna make something happen? Surprise me? Any inclination to lead at all? I need your ideas to recharge my ideas!

---

edit: Wow, upon rereading this it sounds kinda harsh -- I was going for friendly encouragement. x.x I MEANT friendly encouragement. XD With smiley faces. XDD

Just a Fairy Tale | Glaw & carsgovroom

In the middle of the night, Raquelle sat up and peered through the darkness at Sam -- and she was still for a few moments as she decided whether the other girl was asleep. The only sound was the breeze in the trees outside.

Satisfied that she was the only one awake, Raquelle gathered her skirts and crept out of the tent. The fire had burned down to a dull glow and a wisp of smoke. No one was around. The princess tiptoed across to Liam's tent, careful not to wake anyone. She knelt beside the tent flap and peeked in.

Dorothea was curled up on Liam's bedroll, carefully out of his way but as close as she could be, as if to take comfort in his presence, fast asleep, her furry chest rising and falling. But Raquelle could care less about the cat at the moment.

Raquelle withdrew a vial of greenish liquid from her skirts, and she paused in consideration, her fingers on the stopper. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and pulled out the stopper. She found Liam's water skin near the tent flap, and she quickly tipped a few drops of the liquid into it. She gave it a quiet shake, replaced the cap and put it back exactly where she'd found it.

With a small smile she leaned back, replacing the stopper, and she dropped the vial back into a pocket in her skirt. As she stood and turned around to return to her own tent, she caught August's eye.

The Marshal was standing at the edge of the trees, watching her with a silent stare.

Raquelle gave him a pretty smile, knowing that he answered to her mother and he could not -- would not say a word. Confidently, she crossed the rest of the way back to her own tent. She kicked off her shoes and laid down again to sleep deeply.

We are Fantastic Stars in the Sky!

Awesome -- intro would be great! :)

And yeah, I seriously got the impression that the writers didn't know what the hell they were doing with the whole time war thing -- nothing about it made any sense. So, yay, never happened!

We are Fantastic Stars in the Sky!

Woot! Ok, I think we're onto something. And yes, that totally makes sense.

As far as angst goes --I know I proposed before that the Time War is still going on -- but what if there is no Time War altogether? What if Gallifrey is simply alive and well? The Doctor would simply be doing what he's been doing for the past 8 generations -- having fun! -- without a shred of angst. As far as I can tell, up to the 8th Doctor he and the other Time Lords had an understanding: he'd keep saving the universe and the Time Lords would look the other way. What do you think? It'd mean episodes like Dalek wouldn't have so much impact -- or else they would turn out very differently.

[Skybreaker] Royal Wings [Glaw]

He waited until the sands were cool under the deep moonless sky; he waited, watching from the crags of the dusty mountain, until the last firelight darkened in the village. He waited until he was certain there would be no tricks, no heroes, no schemes of landslides or hidden spears in the weeds. The majority of villagers feared him too much to defy him, but every once in awhile there was just one young brat with an idea and an ego, and a very pleasant night of feasting could very intolerably be ruined.

So he waited, and he watched the glimmer in the stars and the rustle in the weeds. And then, when there was only stillness, he pressed his tawny wings against his spine and crept between the rocks.

He was a shadow, the color of the sand, soundless and careful, dark eyes fixed on the rustling livestock pen. The villagers had called him Ralarulash for the fiery gold of his mane and a roar as deep and far-reaching as an inferno. His shoulders rose and fell with every soft step. He could almost taste the steaming blood of a properly fattened goat as it bleated and writhed under his claws. He suppressed a growl at the want of it; he would have it, soon.

The goats began to bleat nervously, and he paused in his approach until they calmed, their tails flicking, pressed together and away from the gate. Carefully again, he moved silent over the sand.

[Skybreaker] Royal Wings [Glaw]

Wootwoot! Aw man, this is perfect -- and I am in love with your writing style. This is gonna rock.

The EarthGiver [Nem & Glaw]

"We should have a museum!" Agatha insisted, adamant that Pinafore should agree with her. She held the fingerling up with both hands over her head, so he could properly see all the wonderful trinkets and treasures that a proper archaeologist would give his right leg for. "Father and I don't need the bottom floor for just us two people -- we could have display cases and little note cards with dates and things on them --"

Pinafore cut her off with a shriek and he flapped his wings, tumbled out of her hands in a panic and scratched her thumb with a claw in his fright (completely by accident, of course). "Ouch!" Agatha frowned and sucked on her bleeding knuckle, and she watched the little dragon scuttle with fanned blue wings and furious tail underneath a bookcase. "What on earth --"

*crack!*

Agatha turned around, curious long before she could think to be afraid, and she saw that the diamonds and jewels set into an ancient feathered headdress were glowing. She blinked, and she set a soft foot forward and craned her long neck -- but certainly, surely they were giving off their own light from within. And the table beside her, with its polished stones and chipped statues, was humming. She only had time to see for an instant that those stones and statues and rubies and sapphires were quivering on their own accord before it all ceased as suddenly as it had begun. Agatha stared at a statue of a cat that she could have sworn had just been shuddering, and she stuck a finger out to touch it --

*crackle*

Her eyes snapped to the glass casing, which was now for all appearances about to fall apart for the web of cracks that had woven through it. She walked around the table, pressed her hands to her knees and leaned forward to stare through it at the gleeful little stone man. "Are you the one causing this trouble?" she accused him. Really, she had no idea what had happened -- maybe Pinafore had accidentally reacted with an old enchanted piece, which wasn't completely impossible -- but this little stone god seemed to have been at the center of that little island of shaking and glowing, and it amused her to believe it was true.

"Well now look what you've done, your house is broken!" She shook her head, admonishing the naughty little statue, and very carefully she took hold of the broken case by the corners and lifted it off onto the seat of a chair beside her. "There," she said, satisfied, "now doesn't that feel better? It's not exactly fresh air, but at least you're not all cooped up."

Agatha squinted at it, and she pressed her face a bit closer. "What a funny little god you are, with a funny little face." She leaned on the table, and with her injured hand she rubbed a finger over his smooth head, wondering at the shrines and temples he must have lived in.

Just a Fairy Tale | Glaw & carsgovroom

While August remained on guard outside -- as he would until the small hours of the morning -- Raquelle paused awhile at the fire. She was looking after Sam, and Dorothea. The princess could understand the cat's speech perfectly well, and she also understood that Sam was on friendly terms with both Dorothea and the Marshal. Her mother hadn't mentioned anyone else traveling with the Marshal. Her mouth thinned and her eyes narrowed: this Samantha girl could be nothing but trouble to her mother's plans -- to her plans of marrying Liam.

After awhile, Raquelle followed Sam into the tent, and though she smiled sweetly her eyes were full of venom. "Well ... Samantha ... I'm sure you and your feline are tired from your journey. Here is a bed roll for you." Where the princess had a passably comfortable mattress rolled out on a rug, what was left for Sam was little more than a blanket on the ground. "Good night," she said quickly, and, leaving no room for Sam to get a word in, she blew out her candle and laid down, fully clothed, to sleep.

When Dorothea was finally let down to the ground, she shook herself all over. "I'm really beginning to dislike being carried," she whispered. "When I have proper legs again I will walk across the kingdom before I will submit to a horse or carriage." She gave an awful look to Raquelle's back. "I can't sleep here, I'm sorry. Maybe that poison will wear off soon and Liam will understand me." She had very low hopes of that happening, but she couldn't give up. It wasn't in her blood to give up. She would go out to Liam's tent and watch over him, and think. There had to be a way to get her message across.

Just a Fairy Tale | Glaw & carsgovroom

Dorothea was satisfied with Sam's answers, and more than satisfied with her decision to hand her off to Liam. She was more gentle with the prince this time, less exuberant and more concerned. It seemed she would have to wait until Verinia for a solid chance at making him understand what had become of her -- but he deserved better. He deserved to know, before they got to Verinia! She had to prevent this war, and she had to get Liam back to the castle as soon as possible so they could expose the queen.

She stood in his lap with her paws on his chest, watching him talk with Will, her ears perked while she thought. She couldn't talk to him, and she couldn't put Sam into the awkward position of arguing for her (especially if the Marshal would confirm that Sam was crazy for doing so), but there were other ways of communicating besides talking.

Dorothea glanced around the camp -- she'd been there when the queen had told the Marshal to keep her away from Liam -- but the Marshal was on lookout duty, and wasn't paying attention. Dorothea crawled out of Liam's lap and grabbed his spoon in her teeth. She dragged it over to a clear spot on the ground and placed it carefully -- then she bounded over, grabbed Will's spoon, and put it down at a right angle to the first.

Raquelle noticed that the cat was doing something peculiar -- whatever it was, it couldn't be good. She laughed and suddenly scooped a surprised Dorothea up into her hands. "My, what a precocious little kitty!" Raquelle cooed. Dorothea's ears pressed against her skull and she hissed a deep fangy threat. Raquelle only laughed. "Should probably keep a hold of this one or she'll have collected all our spoons!"

The Marshal remained rigidly stoic, focused on the darkness and on the reflections of moonlight on the thick trees and shrubs. He spared a glance to any sign of movement. When Sam came up beside him, he ignored her in favor of his post, knowing well that very dangerous beasts -- or worse -- could appear in the time it took to blink.

At Sam's proposal of escape, however, he laughed suddenly out of surprise. "It's just one night!" He grinned, still watching the forest as he spoke. "The princess can't be that bad. She might curl your hair and put you in a dress and whine until dawn about how awful her life is, but you'll be safe and it's a place to sleep." His grin turned to a smirk, and he finally spared her an amused glance. "But if you did escape, you wouldn't be horrible, to answer your question. You would be enormously ungrateful -- most women in this country would kill to have an invitation like this -- but not horrible." He thought a moment, humming to himself. "Where would you intend to sneak off to? You're not getting past my guards into the forest, if that's what you're thinking."