Ribbon Exchange

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Revision as of 21:41, 22 July 2022 by Aryia (talk | contribs) (Created page with "<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;"> == Log Info == *Title: Ribbon Exchange *Emitter: Slixvah *Characters: Slixvah, Aelwyn *Place: Southern Banks of the Tornmawr *Time: July 22nd, 2022 *Summary: Slix is busy adding more ribbons to her featherless wings. Aelwyn comes along and lends a hand. They joke back and forth, him expressing worry, but his joviality lifts her mood. They swap a lot of ribbons. </div> == == :: ''Southern Banks of the Tornmawr, Midda...")
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Log Info

  • Title: Ribbon Exchange
  • Emitter: Slixvah
  • Characters: Slixvah, Aelwyn
  • Place: Southern Banks of the Tornmawr
  • Time: July 22nd, 2022
  • Summary: Slix is busy adding more ribbons to her featherless wings. Aelwyn comes along and lends a hand. They joke back and forth, him expressing worry, but his joviality lifts her mood. They swap a lot of ribbons.

Southern Banks of the Tornmawr, Midday

The city is busy on all fronts. With so many people coming in from the countryside, the places that tend to be somewhat sparse with folk and a relaxing environment are now thrumming with people. Especially on a day like this. The sky a clear, brilliant blue with a light breeze that sweeps through the river side to blow away the slowly building heat of the sun.

It's cramped, it feels to one egalrin. She's taking refuge under the bridge in the shade. Instead of multiple robes, she's just down to one, the others folded and stacked in her lap as she sits against the bridge's foundation. Sprawled out around her are a multitude of ribbons, far more than she usually dons on her arms and wings.

Said wings have no feathers. A bare wing spar is pulled forward, Slixvah in a vaguely focused trance as she's adding more ribbons to it. Halfway done with this, it's looking like a sheet of fluttering ribbons to replace what was once there.

Amongst the crowd, a particularly gleaming shade of red weaves amongst the people taking refuge from the heat. What's more, that particular rusty shade of red had a long bladed polearm with him; red ribbon lazily flaring around the tip. Aelwyn didn't mind the heat - he did mind the lack of space. A set of small claypots were strapped against his chest.

The ruddy sith-makar lazily meandered along the riverbank, exposed scales gleaming in the midday sun, orange eyes darting this way and that. It didn't take him long to spot the egalrin under the bridge - especially due to that collection of ribbons. Quiet, clawed steps take him near front of her, and then he stands still, hands folded over his spear.

Slix picks up another strip of ribbon, a bright green one, it being tied off adjacent to violet hued one on her featherless wing. It's a methodical process, eyes half lidded. Tired, but keeping busy.

There's a tiny, white tufted bird that pokes their head out of the robes on her lap. >Chirp-chirp<, they tweet twice, head flicking towards Aelwyn before vanishing back into the folded robes.

"Wuh...?" Slix asks, blinking her daze away before looking around-

Her brows raise, and she perks up some. "Oh! Heya Flutter. You uh... gardening soon?" she asks, gesturing towards the clay pots.

Another ribbon is grabbed.

Aelwyn eyes the collection of ribbons. His own, along his horns and weapon of sorts, were looking quite weathered. "No, Sugar." He picks up one of the palm sized clay pots, then gives it a bit of a shake. Liquid shakes within. "Oil." He reattaches the pot around the makeshift bandolier he has wrapped around his chest. "It is to burn, but the shores are not empty."

Tilting his head, he looks down at the strips of cloth. "She is particular about the ribbons she wears." He nods his head, then glances at the bared wings. "Is this typical of her kind?"

Slix can't help but quietly chuckle as her usual vernacular is turned around. She makes a clicking sound in her throat. "Ah. That's right. You set yourself on fire to dance. Sounds hot," she winks, then snickers at her own joke.

She looks down to the ribbons. A shoulder lifts in a light shrug, making the ones on her bare wings sway from the motion. "None too fussy on which ones I wear, just as long as they're pretty. Want any of them? I got loads," she offers.

A glance to her wings. "... we get different coats for the weather but... naw. This ain't typical. I... dunno what's goin' on. Maybe I over did some mojo. Maybe I jus' got bad luck this time 'round. I'm jus'... puttin' more on there so it don't feel so.... empty," she answers, voice getting a little hoarse near the end.

Aelwyn grins at Slix, then gives a little slow gyration of his hips around his polearm. "The fire is just extra, Sugar." The sith-makar replies right on back with a click of his teeth and a firm hiss; his forked tongue flickers out. He picks up his polearm and walks closer. He crouches down to look at the collection of ribbons, then slowly begins to pick at them. Especially the red ones.

Only the red ones.

Maybe orange ones, occasionally too. "Hmmh, was not aware wings did that. Sometimes the scales do not shed right, either." The draconian states, as he picks up at one of the ribbons. Then the other. Reaching into his satchel, he fetches out his own collection of ribbons. Red, angry red, muted red, and yellow one. "How about this? Mistakenly picked it up."

Slixvah watches him for a moment, clearly enjoying the sight before softly laughing and shaking her head. She picks out a few others. Purple ones and violet with tinges of red. "Here, these too. Ya got some purple in ya, it'll make it pop," she chirps.

A sigh leaves her. "I suppose, yeah. Might jus' be somethin' weird. Gotta wait a bit. Wings still hurt, but at least its doin' somethin'."

She looks over to the offered strips of fabric. "Oooh, I like those. Wanna put them on?" she offers, a half full ribbon wing stretching out towards the makari.

Aelwyn grabs the ribbons, folding them over his thigh for now. "Is she already trying to make me pop? That's usually not part of the performance." The draconian grins at the egalrin, before turning his head towards the wing. _Obviously_ having no idea what to do about the scary appendage, he carefully reaches forward and touches it. Don't show fear, they will notice it.

"Has she not seen someone?" The ruddy sith-makar asks, as he contemplates on how to attach the ribbons. Eventually, he slips several of them between his teeth and begins to try and fold them over the wing - perhaps magically hoping they will stay on. "... how does she hide so well with these wings?" He rumbles from around his teeth.

Slix can't help but laugh and snipe back crudely, "But that's the fun part!" She settles down, shaking her head as her eyes crinkle in a light smile, mood clearly lifted.

The wing spar has some feathers along the base of it, but any of the long ones meant to catch wind and take flight were all but absent. It feels just like a regular limb. It doesn't bite.

Hopefully.

"I am someone," she points out, but a little huff leaves her. "Though, sadly, there ain't a lotta folk like me 'round in the Defense. So... that'd be askin' the softskins how shedding scales works, ya dig?"

The flightless bird blinks at Aelwyn, then giggles, her reaching over to hold his hands. "Ya over thinking it, just like-" she fidgets with it, doing a simple tie over the limb, just like all the others, "-like that, honey."

Aelwyn gives a very toothy 'grin' at the egalrin. "Perhaps she should leave the exciting part to the performers, Sugar. Fire can be explosive." Another peek of his tongue.

The ruddy sith-makar stares at Slix, tilting his head. "This one was told how shedding of scales works by a softskin. Said one takes a knife and slices it as if it owed one coin."

Rolling his shoulders over and around, he goes back to staring at the wing. Maybe if he nudges the ribbon it will be... swallowed. Thankfully Slixvah comes and saves his proverbial skin before he gets more inventive about his approaches. There is a quite long rumble and a shifting on his feet. "This... never touched a wing before." He grumbles underneath his breath as he lets his hands be guided. He does follow her lead though, gingerly tying up those ribbons with the tips of his claws.

Slix snickers. "Then I'll leave it to the performers," she hums. Her beak clacks once in thought, and she bobs her head. "I was told that a taking a mud bath helps with the scales. Friend told me that." She taps the side of her beak.

She raises a brow. "What'dya mean, Flutter?" she intones. "Ya stretched my wing out a couple weeks days ago to 'elp with it hurtin'."

A few more are placed, and before long, one wing was full of ribbons. A breeze wafts through under the bridge, and the half cool/half warm colored ribbon wing sways along with it. "Wings ain't fragile. Least not on us folk. Gotta support the weight of a whole person, ya know? It's kinda like an arm. As for hidin'.." she catches the question from a bit ago. "They just fold up real tight is all."

"Hm? Mudbaths? Why would bathing in mud be of help?" The draconian asks, and then at the pointed question, he tilts his head. And then looks up at the bridge. "Not like this, this one meant." He rumbles, then gives the wing a stroke, eyes up on Slixvah again. "Exposed, Sugar." He grins toothily, and with a final stroke, lets go.

The Dragoon picks up his own snagged ribbons and starts to sort them out along his bared thigh. Aelwyn seemed vey particular about the order of his ribbons. "Perhaps not fragile, but most limbs don't make one fly." He tilts his head, looking at the wings. "Tight, hmh?" Finally starting to undo some of the more worn out ribbons from around his upright horns, he levels his gaze back up at the egalrin. "... why the name Flutter?"

"Friend told me the lil' rocks in 'em help get the scales off," Slixvah supplements. She joins him in looking up at the bridge, then back down to Aelwyn. She leans into the touch, shoulders relaxing. "I see," she hums softly, watching the Dragoon a moment overlong. "I take it such performance are private, I'm guessin'."

She leans back, the fully ribboned wing folding behind her as she brings the other one forward and starts the process over on that one. "True, true, most don't. But most wings can't walk or grab things either," she flips the logic around. Question, answer. "Ya ribbons flutter on your horns when ya walk," she replies simply. "Would ya prefer I call ya somethin' else? Dancer? Fire? Sugar? Dragoon? Cutie?"

Aelwyn looks back at the egalrin, momentarily surprised. Then his teeth are exposed a bit more. "Typically. Shedding scales leaves a little to imagination." He responds with a low rumble, before he leans his head forward and begins to tie up one of the ribbons on his horns.

A moment later, he flicks his head upwards, and gives his head a shake. Fingers trail after the ribbons. "Hmm." The pieces of cloth did indeed, flutter. "Flutter reminds me of the wind. It is agreeable." The sith's teeth flash out. "If she prefers Cutie, it is Sugar's name to call." The Dragoon reaches into his satchel once more, and picks out a red ribbon with golden threading. Summarily, he reaches over and ties it around Slix's wing.

Slixvah retorts smartly in a chirp, "You already leave little to imagination." Mischief and amusement dancing in her eyes.

She observes as new ribbons are put upon his horns as she ties on more of her own idly. "Sweet. Cutie is a good one," she snickers. "Maybe I'll find somethin' more fun ta call ya later."

The fortune teller blinks as another ribbon is proffered and tied on. "Ooooh... that one's pretty!" she coos, a hand reaching up to inspect the strip of golden threaded fabric. The hand slides over to rest on Aelwyn's arm. "Thank ya."

Aelwyn grins towards Slixvah. "All the best parts. The crowd needs to come again." Forked tongue splits from between his teeth, the tips wiggling up and down independently.

Sliding his fingers across the egalrin's collection of ribbons, he tilts his head. "Some say the precious metal improves health." He rumbles, a low chuckling sound emanating from his chest. "Some was also trying to spears that could fly." His fingers slide across the shaft of his weapon; yes precious glaive, no-one will take over your place. "How long do her feathers take to grow?"

Slixvah goes cross eyed for a moment, tracking the wiggling before giggling. "Do you sell tickets? How much are front row seats?" she teases.

Her eyes soften, watching him peruse the rainbow of fabric. "There is merit in that: precious metals and tha like. Thoughtful of you," she intones. "Spears can fly. For a little bit, then they fall down. But... I don't know, Cutie. Months? Weeks? Years? Hopefully not for very long," she sighs.

Aelwyn spreads his legs and leans back on his hands, his glaive resting against his neck. "Just a coin and a desire to see." The Dragoon throws right back, before laying his hand over the wooden shaft. "Don't think seats would be comfortable for the show."

The sith-makar tilts his head. "She doesn't know? Do not the feathers fall over frequently?" He hmhs, "Has she been to the temple then? Maybe it was something from those sewers."

"Pssh," Slixvah snickers at the display, taking her time to watch before reaching into her robe and pulling out a silver coin and offering it. "Here. Earned it."

She looks at her arm, her running a hand over some of the plumage. "Well. Yeah, they do. Takes a few months. But that's one by one, little bit at a time. This is a lotta featha's, cutie. Gonna take a hot minute for my body ta make new ones all at once."

She shifts a bit on her sitting spot. "... temples are uh... little weird with me. I ain't cursed, I know that. Trust me, I know curses." She smiles. "But I guess I can try ta see what's up with 'em. When they ain't busy from all these poor folk floodin' in."

Those damn sewers. Which is why Aelwyn is all the more glad to pick up the silver coin, far away from the stench of those places. "The performance hadn't even started yet, Sugar." The draconian rumbles, rolling the coin in his palm. His fingers shift down and slides the round piece of metal into his loincloth. Tongue wiggles.

"Hmh, where else would she go?" The sith-makar asks, tilting his head. "Spellreader? She reads plenty of books. Rapier? She seems to know the way with her hands, even if she is always in the shadows, sulking." He gives it another long thought, and then slowly shakes his head.

"... maybe not that bird man"

Slixvah laughs. "When's it begin then?" she inquires, watching him take the payment.

Her head bobs lightly, working on wrapping more ribbons on her remaining wing, about halfway done. "I spoke with 'em all. Bird man was..." she looks aside, "... helpful when I was feelin' down. They all gave me good advice, and I'm workin' on it. It's why I ain't in a ball cryin' right now."

Aelwyn tilts his head. "Hmmh." Having fallen in though, he considers. Then finally, he gestures towards the colorful wings. "She looks plentiful as she is now." He offers, vainly. It is not as if he was an expert on bird psyhhiology.

The Dragoon slowly flexes up on his toes, nimbly thrusting himself against the spear for counter-balance until he is left standing. With a casual movement, he slides down to look at the egalrin. "Oh, did she want to be set on fire under this bridge?" He grins, with a teasing flick of his tongue. His tail moves to ruffle the collection of ribbons. "Or is she just cajoling?"

Slixvah gives an honest, closed eye smile, her wings giving a little flutter to make all the ribbons flutter about. "Thank you, Aelwyn," she intones warmly. "That's kind of you to say. I appreciate it tons."

She watches him rise, then lower. A barking laugh leaves her as the ribbons are tossed about via tail. "Cajoling mostly, you're a fun one."

Another ribbon is put onto her other wing. It's a long process. "But, alas, please don't set me on fire literally. I almost done wit' all these, and ya'd burn the ones ya gave me."

A beat to take in the silence. Slix relaxes, and looks up to the Dragoon.

"Thank you for checking on me."

Aelwyn looks at her, before he takes a slow walk around her with a low, thrumming sibilant noise in his chest. The end of his spear makes a little half circle in the sand, before he steps and stretches over her shoulder. His tail slides lightly between her wings. "Then don't cajole with a silver coin;" The draconian chastises with a slow stretch of his tongue - and it suddenly unfurls the silver and drops it into the sand in front of the egalrin. "Try a gold one."

Chuckling, the sith-makar grabs his spear and lays it across his shoulders. "Be at peace, Sugar." The ruddy Dragoon calls out over his shoulder, before he starts to step away; new ribbons a-flutter on his horns.

-End Scene-