Member
Chev
Bodil Bera
Bodil hadn't noticed the clotting gaggle Fae on the bridge until her tirade with the Fox had ended. They were giggling and gathering like some great game was being played. The dark-haired woman with burning pale eyes didn't get it at all. Why should they be so interested? Most people didn't exactly like problems. Scorn and disgust, those were things she had expected. Not this gathering of amused ghouls. She didn't have much more time to think on it though.
A ghastly keening howl of wind picked up, like claws tearing open the belly of the air, it shrieked angry and agonized. Bodil put up both her arms, the wind hitting her head on and coiling around her like an angry giant viper. She felt her feet pick up off the ground and the force of the wind peel her up like she were a flimsy brittle leaf in its path. Only a gasp, a single syllable, left her lips from the great and sudden force.
When she dared to open her eyes, they widen the sight. Her belly flipped much like it had when she had ridden a rollercoaster for the first time. Faced whipped by before she could even register whom or what they were. Icy grey stone. Stark blue sky. Throaty green forest. Laborers in fields. People who weren't people anymore, yet somehow still were. Bodil was breathless and disoriented, but when the rushing stopped, her blood still pumped from the weightless adrenaline.
And she was dropped right into something warm and choking. Water! Sputtering in the surprise of it, Bodil clambered upright, water seeping into her layered clothes. Looking around she realized she had been plucked from that awful trek and plopped right into a bathing pool of some kind. She was even in some sort of bathroom-looking place, the tub being filled by a spring spouting up from the ground. She only knew so because the bubbles tickled up her legs and under her shirt. The lighting in the room made the small chamber seem just a bit too dark for comfort.
Perhaps if she had been at home, in her own bathroom and very much alone and safe, maybe with some bubbles in the bath, it would have been nice. But this was not home. This was some dangerous place she had been spirited away to. Probably for some ritual execution on the lines of drowning or something. A weird music perferated the air and it was mockingly soothing. Next, some soft-spoken woman in a white dress was going to 'comfort' her about going to the Summerlands or something. Then BAM they'd start the drowning.
Bodil looked around, hands wading on top of the water, looking ready to bolt once she found the door. A voice made her jump. A male voice with that whispering quality that sent hot shivers down the backs of males and females alike. Shit f*ck. She knew that voice. It did not mean good things. She was positive. And while she could browbeat the Fox with a string of insults a mile long, this male voice's owner was probably the one person who'd scare her enough into listening to orders. Something about the soft and gentle villain voice... They were always the most terrifying, even in the movies.
Finally, her eyes adjusted enough to the dark to find the very lean and imposing figure of the Falcon- er, Falk King. Though Falcon still worked, considering he could apparently make people fly! And he could pick prey like her out of an entire crowd of little morsels. Wait. Was he going to eat her? Like washing veggies before the stew? Hell, he might! With everything that had happened in however long she had been in this rotting hell, who knew! Humans were stock, right?! Bodil coiled back from his dimly lit figure, eyes narrowed. Well, if he was going to eat her, he'd find her ill for his gullet. Strong fighting food that would hopefully give him indigestion, so as long as he didn't choke on her first. She was sort of hoping for the latter.
It was a fact though: fowl king that he was, he'd make even Ice Queen melt. Bodil's face went red at the sudden realization that he was very half nude. Perhaps she had always been the forward and modern thinker in her extremely culty and conservative family, she was not used to... all that. Pictures of bathing suits and advertisements were one thing. Seeing a shirtless man, even if he was more demon than man, was quite another. Averting her eyes to the water, she glowered more in anger at her own meek reaction than anything. Like she could look at the king of monsters as anything but the biggest, badest monster of them all! Taking her by surprise like that, he must be trying to make her uncomfortable. Well, he was vastly successful. Though his wife-husband-person might not like him showing off like this just to unsettle a slave.
He left and Bodil took in a rush of air. Since when had she been holding her breath? Man, that horrible Fox would have been in a fit of giggles to see her speechless and shocked. But that monarch wanted her to wash. A part of her wanted to stick it to him just out of spite. A far larger part relished the feeling of warm clean water washing away an entire week's worth of grim. Well, if he was going to eat her or skin her or whatever, she might as well enjoy this pre-death pleasure. Taking off her mini-backpack-esque purse, she went to the edge of the bathing pool and let it drop onto the floor. Her soaked and sopping wet boots and multilayers were shed too.
Her back ached from being thrown by the Fox. Her body had been tense and alert for more than a month, not only from Fae-terrors but from looking over her shoulder for cult cronies and her vicious family members. Not to mention she had more than a few bruises and scrapes and cuts from her 'race' with the Fox. Warm clean water was saintly. With a sigh, she slipped under the water and took her time in the water. Why not? This was like her last meal, right, so why not savor it? She'd figure out how to get out of this issue when she was about to be sliced and diced. Because she really really liked baths. Nothing made her skin crawl more than going a day or two without cleansing herself... An entire month? You really think it would make her more pleasant to be around when two days was her max?
Of course, now that she was clean and warm and a little less out of her mind, what was she going to do about clothes? Unless of course, she was just going to be escorted directly to the chopping board... Wet clothes it was then. They'd weigh her down and slow her down, but she was not walking around naked. Not even under scary, intimidating, half-naked, ice-melting Falcon King's command. He could get that other monarch to do that if he wanted someone to boss around for pleasure. Bodil stood and edged her way carefully out of the bath, naked as the day she was born and once more extremely cautious. Who knew when creepy little monsters who mimicked children might pop out and drag you to a boiling cauldron.
A ghastly keening howl of wind picked up, like claws tearing open the belly of the air, it shrieked angry and agonized. Bodil put up both her arms, the wind hitting her head on and coiling around her like an angry giant viper. She felt her feet pick up off the ground and the force of the wind peel her up like she were a flimsy brittle leaf in its path. Only a gasp, a single syllable, left her lips from the great and sudden force.
When she dared to open her eyes, they widen the sight. Her belly flipped much like it had when she had ridden a rollercoaster for the first time. Faced whipped by before she could even register whom or what they were. Icy grey stone. Stark blue sky. Throaty green forest. Laborers in fields. People who weren't people anymore, yet somehow still were. Bodil was breathless and disoriented, but when the rushing stopped, her blood still pumped from the weightless adrenaline.
And she was dropped right into something warm and choking. Water! Sputtering in the surprise of it, Bodil clambered upright, water seeping into her layered clothes. Looking around she realized she had been plucked from that awful trek and plopped right into a bathing pool of some kind. She was even in some sort of bathroom-looking place, the tub being filled by a spring spouting up from the ground. She only knew so because the bubbles tickled up her legs and under her shirt. The lighting in the room made the small chamber seem just a bit too dark for comfort.
Perhaps if she had been at home, in her own bathroom and very much alone and safe, maybe with some bubbles in the bath, it would have been nice. But this was not home. This was some dangerous place she had been spirited away to. Probably for some ritual execution on the lines of drowning or something. A weird music perferated the air and it was mockingly soothing. Next, some soft-spoken woman in a white dress was going to 'comfort' her about going to the Summerlands or something. Then BAM they'd start the drowning.
Bodil looked around, hands wading on top of the water, looking ready to bolt once she found the door. A voice made her jump. A male voice with that whispering quality that sent hot shivers down the backs of males and females alike. Shit f*ck. She knew that voice. It did not mean good things. She was positive. And while she could browbeat the Fox with a string of insults a mile long, this male voice's owner was probably the one person who'd scare her enough into listening to orders. Something about the soft and gentle villain voice... They were always the most terrifying, even in the movies.
Finally, her eyes adjusted enough to the dark to find the very lean and imposing figure of the Falcon- er, Falk King. Though Falcon still worked, considering he could apparently make people fly! And he could pick prey like her out of an entire crowd of little morsels. Wait. Was he going to eat her? Like washing veggies before the stew? Hell, he might! With everything that had happened in however long she had been in this rotting hell, who knew! Humans were stock, right?! Bodil coiled back from his dimly lit figure, eyes narrowed. Well, if he was going to eat her, he'd find her ill for his gullet. Strong fighting food that would hopefully give him indigestion, so as long as he didn't choke on her first. She was sort of hoping for the latter.
It was a fact though: fowl king that he was, he'd make even Ice Queen melt. Bodil's face went red at the sudden realization that he was very half nude. Perhaps she had always been the forward and modern thinker in her extremely culty and conservative family, she was not used to... all that. Pictures of bathing suits and advertisements were one thing. Seeing a shirtless man, even if he was more demon than man, was quite another. Averting her eyes to the water, she glowered more in anger at her own meek reaction than anything. Like she could look at the king of monsters as anything but the biggest, badest monster of them all! Taking her by surprise like that, he must be trying to make her uncomfortable. Well, he was vastly successful. Though his wife-husband-person might not like him showing off like this just to unsettle a slave.
He left and Bodil took in a rush of air. Since when had she been holding her breath? Man, that horrible Fox would have been in a fit of giggles to see her speechless and shocked. But that monarch wanted her to wash. A part of her wanted to stick it to him just out of spite. A far larger part relished the feeling of warm clean water washing away an entire week's worth of grim. Well, if he was going to eat her or skin her or whatever, she might as well enjoy this pre-death pleasure. Taking off her mini-backpack-esque purse, she went to the edge of the bathing pool and let it drop onto the floor. Her soaked and sopping wet boots and multilayers were shed too.
Her back ached from being thrown by the Fox. Her body had been tense and alert for more than a month, not only from Fae-terrors but from looking over her shoulder for cult cronies and her vicious family members. Not to mention she had more than a few bruises and scrapes and cuts from her 'race' with the Fox. Warm clean water was saintly. With a sigh, she slipped under the water and took her time in the water. Why not? This was like her last meal, right, so why not savor it? She'd figure out how to get out of this issue when she was about to be sliced and diced. Because she really really liked baths. Nothing made her skin crawl more than going a day or two without cleansing herself... An entire month? You really think it would make her more pleasant to be around when two days was her max?
Of course, now that she was clean and warm and a little less out of her mind, what was she going to do about clothes? Unless of course, she was just going to be escorted directly to the chopping board... Wet clothes it was then. They'd weigh her down and slow her down, but she was not walking around naked. Not even under scary, intimidating, half-naked, ice-melting Falcon King's command. He could get that other monarch to do that if he wanted someone to boss around for pleasure. Bodil stood and edged her way carefully out of the bath, naked as the day she was born and once more extremely cautious. Who knew when creepy little monsters who mimicked children might pop out and drag you to a boiling cauldron.