by Haraka Omaras 28th May 2018, 6:51 pm
Well, it wasn't too surprising that the older one should be more likely to think ahead in a climate they knew about well? "Well we're a team right now so consider my supplies to be everyone's. Everyone brings something different and useful." He had seen the shivers, even if the exceed had said they were warm enough. The demon wouldn't say it out loud, she was being polite and maybe she really was fine. Still, the offer was up. Though, that brought up another point. A certain impressive dragon slayer, another reminder out of countless that age meant little when it comes to strength or skill. "Adalinda is very impressive, I'm surprised that she would get worried about the guild." Ahh... didn't like the cold? Maybe it was just a matter of preference. "Where I was born was colder than silent glaciers... so I know how to handle it well enough." For once his voice started sounding uncertain in words. How much was really alright to share, how much was inappropriate? For some reason, mentioning too many private details of that old life felt taboo. This wasn't a cultural thing, maybe emotional scars? Bumping the wrong memory really hurt sometimes, so it was better to avoid the minefield all together. That was the sort of person the young looking man was, avoid possibly painful subjects and smile. Try to look at the brighter side, despite how undeniable the darkness is, or perhaps to spite that darkness.
Ah, the ghosts were always rowdy? Trying to take their things? That sounded... Well, in the end she was the one that knew more of the ghosts. Maybe it was the case? But she sounded uncertain, that or like she was ready to wash her hands of it all as soon as her student finished training. Moving along and following the client was easy enough, even if he wasn't exactly rushing things. "It sounds like a rough job, working with such ghosts, you're really amazing Miss Jazzabeline." The warnings of ice didn't feel very needed to Haraka, but he did understand that others would need it. While he wasn't very good with sweltering hot weather, the mantis shrimp demon was born on the snow, in a country built on ice and cold. The ice could be slippery, but his shoes moved against it without much issue. All the man had to do was change movement a bit during the times that ice popped up. Too slow or too fast would make someone slip, so Omaras slowed to a more goldilocks speed during those parts as well. "How does a river move in a cave in such cold? Is it due to being in a cave?" Part of him was a little excited and curious, another had a growing pit of concern. Would any of the dead have familiar faces? How does he ask for help if he needs it but can't find the words? Ah, maybe he needed to trust wind to find the words when he could not.
Though good or bad, twisted or mellow, the elemental is a firm voice when it come to the demons emotional well being and growth. Adalindas question almost caused more concern. Should these fears get voiced? ... No, it wasn't proper, especially not so near the client. "As long as I don't see anyone I know in there." He responded with a smile and a partially amused tone. Humor was one of the emotions he was worst at faking, though the humor was alive in his heart in a bitter way... it didn't mean it naturally released in the voice and face. The caves entrance was finally so near, after this short time of traveling, after fearing it before they even arrived at silent glaciers. He took a slow and deep breath, readying himself before going in. Inside the cave, there was a familiar scent. It was a perfume that many of the highest class would wear in the country, but that didn't make sense? It hadn't been made in thousands of years, how was it even made? The world may never rediscover such obscure information, that or it was hidden away in an old and forgotten book somewhere. For some reason, the demon found himself following the scent. It didn't travel far, leading to a jar of ashes and a icy looking sphere. The sphere changed into the figure of a man with dragon talons on his fingers, scales in many places on his body, ice blue skin, white hair, and deep sapphire eyes.
White dragon wings were attacked to the prideful standing ghost, a cool colored dragon tail flicking behind him in agitation. They had a pair of long and slightly curved horns, a shorter pair under that one. This dead persons clothing certainly looked far from recent, silks coated in fine metals and enough jewels to make some flush with envy. "Vethirilnom? Kii re wux tenpiswo? Kii re wux takh? Wux jalla ti vorq zyak ghergo."
There it was. Where some might feel joy of finding such a person, a chance of closure, Haraka didn't feel this way in the slightest. "Wux re throdenilt saeetha ekess visidark sia gahhr loupon ekess huven ve bensvelk?" It was hard to not feel emotional, to not feel upset. The words betrayed the feelings that the tone of his voice could not capture. But... the ghost either didn't notice, or just didn't care. "Si jalla doege zahae dout yinigeld usv lotocra? dout iejir ui kiri shashtiup. Dout zi trekis dronilnric weatonan." Those words... hurt, like old familiar needles that he had forgotten about until the reminder arose and fired. Why did it still have to be this way? "Re wux gethrisjir ekess widegoa jilgir shafaer ekess dout pride tangis jaka? Loex persvek vi thaczil batobot jahus ti dout okarthel. Svanoa throden eorikci tepoha confn vur zulf li coi wielga sari wer qumadosfan?" Why was he even doing this? Using a language that was far from common tongue.
"Can't you treat me like family for once?" But of course, the voice was fainter than his normal quiet tone, softer than his already soft voice. The deep and bold voice of the older looking male gave a laugh, as if he was just told a joke. Were they trying to be cruel? "You would have been dead before the trash could have dragged you around the country like a beat up meat toy if you weren't family. It's one thing if demon blood infects a were person or a human, but our kind should be above that. I tolerate you out of love." Those took all his words away. Those old wounds, so many sensitive emotional wounds were torn open and left raw in the cold of the words. Haraka couldn't find words to speak, a response to the harsh words. Still, it didn't mean silence remained around him. A blue wind moved around the demon, coiling around its person in such a way that the wind demons rage was practically scenting the cave. "YOU'RE NOTHING MORE THAN A COWARDLY LOW LIFE PIECE OF CRAP!" the wind spirit let out an eerie laugh that sounded much like voices caught in a wind of madness.
"And you wondered why I didn't pick a 'better' person of your trashy family? The 'low class' one with the outsider mother figure was the one who didn't run away. He could have ended his life and escaped that way at any time, but he knew they would just grab another child! Instead of taking the easy way out, he removed the piece of his soul that allowed him to express his emotions in order to fool them into becoming bored and stopping. You were the ones with the power, but the majority of you ran. Each one of you who died deserved the worst of deaths. I hope yours was humiliating. I am a high class wind spirit that demands a master with a high class heart! You're below my standards!"
Now Omaras was stuck between the rants of an angry wind spirit and a increasingly angry ghost of a dead cousin. "Please I don't want to fight you! I can't stand the thought of fighting you... I... I just... can't we... talk? Wind is just protective, he's just very protective..."
Wordcount: 1,386
Total: 2,820