Rain in Yorick was barely ever a cause for alarm. Most inhabitants of Trevain had come to expect it so much they dare not leave the house without proper gear to ward off water, so the visuals of the gray clouded sky and the torrents of water battering the old window panes was just another scene.
Young Ms. Roslyn Shuck sweeps the tattered floorboards of her place of work, the old bookstore in Old Yorick, humming pleasantly to herself as thunder looms gently in the distance. Her mind is not fixated completely on her chore, however, as she finds herself accidentally sweeping in one spot longer than is needed. Her bright green eyes staring almost vacantly at the floor like they’re supposed to be, but her mind wanders beyond what is immediately physically possible. She corrects herself, uttering a small “oh!”, before shuffling to a different spot to focus on. She wills herself to her chores, but its a difficult shift in focus.
Not too far from her sitting hidden behind a tall retail counter cluttered with candles, incense and small oddities is her employer, who seems to be lost in a world of his own. Mr. Serj Legrande chews his lip, sharp mind calculating behind a mess of dark curls. Long fingers tracing words in an old antiqued tome marked with dark ink symbols of a foreign tongue, he puzzles quietly but gives a small hum of his discontent with confusion. He considers asking his employee for her opinion, but stews on it a few moments more instead to see if he cannot figure it out.
They were both thinking of the same subject, the one that had brought them together in the first place and one that had been the obssession of Mr. Legrande his entire life. Still for the afternoon, the silence between them is calm and comforting.
Serj lifts his head up over the counter, craning his neck to look for his assistant, but as hes about to speak heavy booted footsteps against wood breaks his concentration. Roslyn perks at the intrusion and they both stare as a tall, soaked, broad chinned man in a tattered cloak swings the front door open, splashing water across the freshly cleaned floor. His clothes are muted tones, and the cloak around his shoulders and protecting his gray hair is clasped with the image of a pewter wolf’s head. He shuts the door behind him as quick as he can, rattling the framework of the storefront slightly from the force. His eyes scan the room, expression terse before brightening once he sees the two curious pairs of eyes on him.
Though curious, Rosy was not at all pleased with the new mess of wet leaves and fresh mud tracked in by the stranger and bites her tongue gently with her arched brows high up on her forehead. She forgets to focus on any other determining features on him and instead her focus goes directly to his huge hunting boots, drenched in water and caked in...outdoors.
“Uhh.....bonjour.” The traveller addresses in a deep, inviting voice in a very flat Trevainian accent. The greeting immediately labels him as a foreigner. He seems only somewhat interested in the books surrounding him, but Serj’s eyes were fixed on that cloak he wore over his broad shoulders. Though it was hard to discern what he was focused on as his hair hid most everything on him.
Serj nodded in response and offered a polite smile before replying “Bonjour, welcome. ‘ow are you today?” while Rosy looks directly at Serj as if asking him with her eyes if he was witnessing the same thing she was. Serj gives a gentle nod to her, acknowledging her, but doesn’t remove his gaze from the cloak, causing Rosy to take her time and inspect the visitor as he was. She offered a small welcoming smile on her dark lips as well.
The traveller steps forward slowly, weight creaking the floor. He was tall, muscled and grizzled in the face, with a very warm overall feel. “Doing well,” He replied, crossing into the threshold of the old store. “Was wondering if you all could maybe give me some ideas of where I could find some things. Ain’t from here, this is my first time in Yorick.”
Serj nodded. “Of course, of course. I am knowledgeable for zat sort of sing and can ‘elp you. But ehh.....excuse me for asking but...where did you get zat cloak?” and Rosy’s eyes snapped into focus on the pewter wolf head clasp on his shoulder as if suddenly understanding why this man, despite feeling warm and friendly, should be met with suspicion. She shuffled gently behind him, broom in hand, pretending to busy herself with sweeping beside the door.
The traveller lowers the hood off his head and grins brightly. “You have a good eye!” He tugs at the worn furred leather of the cloak as he speaks, attempting to give a better view of the garment. “This here is a cloak given and passed down to wolf hunters. Its a badge of honor, I guess you’d say. Given only to hunters who proved their worth to wear it. I was hopin’ you all could give me some pointers on where to look if I was lookin’ for some wolves.”
Serj is silent with his lips a line, eyes cold and fixed, but Rosy gently steps forward to clarify. She replies “Wolves? A wee bit too far into the city to be lookin’ fer wolves ah thenk.” but something in her knowing voice says to Serj she knows exactly what hes talking about. The hunter misses the subtext and laughs warmly as he shifts his attention to her.
“Ain’t like that miss, I’m lookin’ for the shifters. The ones that wear human skin durin’ the day and hunt the innocent at night. Heard Yorick is supposed to be filled with ‘em, got a real problem y’all do. S’why I’m here. I don’t think y’all deserve to suffer under the jaws of those monsters.” Rosy keeps her warm, polite smile and nods a bit, though its obvious her mind is elsewhere far more sentimental and her jaw is struggling to not clench.
“I see...you thenk the lycanthropes are monsters, aye?” She offers him a chance to elaborate and he simply chuckles as he replies. “Lycanthrope, miss, is the word we use medically. Politically correct, even. Ain’t nothin’ medical or deservin’ of reservation either. You call ‘em lycanthropes they’ll start fightin’ to be human. But there ain’t nothin’ human about them. They may have been at some point miss, but the ones I seen lost the shine to their eyes. And far as I’m concerned, I seen all of ‘em. Ain’t none of ‘em can be saved, ain’t none of ‘em can stay alive for the safety of mankind.”
“Ohhhh I see...well, yanno we might know a few places ta look.” her eyes meet with Serj’s as hes put on the most disarmingly warm smile she’s seen on him in a while. He pushes himself against his sturdy cane to stand, grunting gently from the effort before calmly swaying his way in front of the counter. His motions are somewhat hasty, as something in him has definitely clicked and Rosy understands immediately. He chuckles gently, getting the hunter’s attention on him again as the tip of his cane grinds into the wood under him.
“Oh yes, we can ‘elp each ozehr out quite a bit I sink.” He shuffles to be beside the hunter, who’s height makes even the tall Serj look average. Serj’s fingers motion behind the hunters back to Rosy, motioning for her to get the door and she’s quick to react and bustles behind the two of them as Serj places his hand on the hunter’s shoulder. “But fehrst, you must come upstairs so I can fix you some herbal tea. It is a special blend my good friend makes, he is an aposecary you know. You must be tired from your travels, aftehr all.”
The hunter warmly chuckles and obliges. “Oh, that’d be nice. I don’t remember the last time ah had somethin’ warm to drank, or somethin’ that wasn’t rain water. Its been dismal for days on horseback.” Serj nods sympathetically, guiding the hunter in front of him towards the stairs.
“Ah, oui. Trevain she is so unforgiving in zis way. She may one day drown us all. But eh, though cold, she is nevehr ehh....cruel or unjust. She mostly is fair.” The hunter nods, accepting the weird comment as local charm and pride in home.
“I feel thats how we should all be, sir. By the way, whats your name? If I’m havin’ tea with y’all I should at least know that.”
Serj grins with sharp white teeth as Rosy flanks the hunter’s other side, her emerald eyes bright and warm as she gently pads with them in front of the
“Of course, ‘ow rude of me. I am Serj Legrande, and zis is my lovely assistant Roslyn Shuck. And we are so pleased to ‘ave company wiss you.” The hunter’s interest was piqued at the mention of Rosy’s last name, but he couldn’t place his finger on why. Instead he smiles at her and she smiles right back as Serj lingers back somewhat behind the two.
“S’been real nice meeting you, Ms. Shuck and uhh-”
Mid-sentence, Serj grips the front of the retail counter and whips the hook handle of his cane out in front of him, catching the front of the hunter’s ankle and snaps his arm back to his side. Off guard and unexpecting to be assaulted, the hunter topples and staggers forward, falling flat on his face. Dazed from the collision, he quickly tries to muster to his knees but Roslyn meets him bluntly with the handle of her broom against his temple, a loud cracking sound projecting against the old walls. Just the sound was enough to cause a stinge of pain in Serj’s back. Again, the hunter staggers to try and stand but Rosy meets his tenderest meat and bone with the ragged wood of her broom until he fails to retaliate.
Not dead, but definitely not in good shape.
Serj leans gently against the counter, waiting for the pain in his hip and leg to subside from the physical force of the assault, and stares at the poor unconscious fool on the floor. Rosy was gently out of breath as she recognizes her actions may have come from a deeper place. She looks to Serj and he gently looks back.
“Never ded tell you about my uncle did I.” he shakes his head gently with his palm against his hip, willing the pain to subside.
“Was zat for him?” Rosy looks at the hunter, his ribs expanding with his breath though he was far gone. Her mind races back to a few fateful encounters from childhood, remembering her family torn in half because of men who think like the one on the floor. She nods softly and inhales deeply.
“YEAH. It was. I didn’t expect to project tha’ much unto this poor idjit but. Hearin’ him talk aboot them not bein’ worth mercy, somethin’ jes. Went off. Anyway. Shouldn’t keep this sod here.”
Serj nods and chuckles darkly as he slowly lowers the tip of his cane back into the wood. “If you would not mind ‘elping me get him to ze basement.”
It took some trying to get a man his size for both of them to lumber over to the cellar doors. With a slight heave they flip the hunter into the cellar and allow his body to roll and tumble gracelessly down the stairs into the unforgiving darkness. The vision of him laying at the bottom, blood starting to pool against the stone of the basement floor with the darkness creeping in should be unsettling.
Serj ends the vision by slamming the doors shut and re-setting the padlock, cancelling out all light and all life for those below. He would not want Rosy to be scarred, but she’s proven multiple times that she is not one to falter. Gentle hissing and scraping of nails against stone can be heard from behind the heavy cellar doors, threatening but preoccupied.
Serj doesn’t stick around, he leaves the minute he gets the lock fixed but Rosy can’t help but dissociate gently at the sounds. She remembers seeing the imps that live in the cellar. Their imagery mixed with flashbacks of her younger days of crying with fear at the mention of Dogwood and Wolf Hunters. The hard crack of bones breaking snaps her back and she turns her back on the cellar doors.
Her mentor looks to her with sympathy and smiles genuinely for the first time since he had arrived. “I sink for today, we should close ze shop early and maybe ‘ave some tea. I spoke of it earlier and now I ‘ave a strong craving for it. Monsieur Sparrow makes ze best herbal blend.”
Rosy smiles back at him, relaxed despite her vulnerable internal feelings. “Aye, sounds goot. I could use somethin’ t’eat as well.”
The rain had finally let up the day following, leaving the world a little bit damp and the air filled with the aroma of wet churned earth. Small rivers of water would slosh down cobblestone and finally drain into the sewers below.
The cracked black paint of the old bookstore door creaked open in the early white morning light, and would have Serj make his debut for the day in his broad brimmed hat and long black overcoat. His cane dug into the wood below him and he closed and locked the door for safety sake before he proudly carried himself to the street. He had a very particular destination in mind.
Coming to the windows of the apothecary shop, Serj allowed himself inside and subjected himself to the strong, musty yet spicy smell of herbs and powders. His gaze scanned the room and he was immediately met with a gruff greeting.
“Oh, hey Serj. What in the world are you doing over here so early? Ain’t even open yet.” Serj beamed at the gruff visage of his dearest friend, eyes glancing over his rough manly features marked by his bright honey-golden eyes, peppered hair and soft pointed ears. He had been busying himself with dusting the shelves behind the counter. Serj hurried gently as he chuckled.
“Ah, monsieur Sparrow! I know it is early but I could not resist, I ‘ad to see you as soon as I could today.” He waited till Sparrow had wandered out from behind the counter, his big bushy brow quirked on his forehead, scrutinizing Serj’s excited behavior.
“You feelin’ alright? You look a lil more squirrelly than usual, are you up to somethin’?”
“Ah, non Monsieur. Why must you sink I am always up to somesing? I cannot come visit my dearest friend in ze world and tell him I loved his ‘erbal tea? Rosy and I steeped it yestehrday and it was.....magnifique.” Sparrow’s expression lightens a bit, touched at the sincerity.
“Aww well thank you Serj. I wasn’t sure if it’d be good, I don’t usually make tea and such. It was more me just dabblin’ with leaves if we’re bein honest. If you like it so much I figure I could get you some more.”
Serj’s smile shone brightly under his hair at his dear friend. All he could think of was fondness for this man and all they had done for each other over the years, how Sparrow at one point was all he had in the world on his darkest days, and nights spent sheltering him in his wolf body from antagonizers and Dogwood hunters. “I would love zat.”
He extends his arms and motions with his fingers asking for Sparrow’s hands. Sparrow slowly obliges and offers them, letting Serj run his fingers running over the silver burn scars in his fingers gently. Mr. Sparrow’s hands were larger and thicker than Serj’s, most everything on Sparrow was larger, though Serj would claim the honor of being the taller of the two, but the hands really put it into perspective.
He gazes at the justification for his actions the previous day with bittersweet empathy, before his eye catches what appears to be new scars and he lifts his hands closer to inspect them. Sparrow draws his hands back. “Uhh.....yeah. Kids today. They started this new thing where they like....paint over silver coins in brown paint so I think they’re copper till I touch ‘em. Its real annoyin’ cus I thought I could stop wearin’ gloves at work.”
Serj’s face twists with disgust at Sparrow’s new predicament, crossing his arms over his narrow chest.
this has been a dialogue thing thats been playing in my head for like days now
its a little unpolished and i used script format bc i dont want to get tied up in pURPLE PROSE so these are teh bones of it
i feel like i need to work it over but w/e here u go
SCENE
Kings Holm Palace Barracks courtyard, about mid-noon, sun is high and shining and it appears to be spring time. Rauta Skoll and someone else idk who else is there standing by a fence. Rauta leans against it casually, shirtless and popping little grapes in his mouth. Skoll sits at one of the fence posts, both watching a training ring a couple hundred feet away. In the ring is Iske, giving pointers to a few warriors using a sword to correct their arms and stance. Iske is also shirtless, but coated in sweat and his hair up away from his neck.
Skoll: I think its hard for me to grasp how cold it is where you guys are from.
Rauta: Oh yeah?
Skoll: Yeah like, I guess its kinda just strange cus its like….when you hear ‘tundra’ it paints a clear image in your head but if you’ve never been there I guess its like…..can’t really grasp the reality of it. I mean we get snow here, but not like up there.
Rauta: Mmm. Yeah we get ice. Falls from the sky more than snow I think. Keeps you ‘vigilant’. I’m not gonna say I miss it, even if it is a little sweaty down here for my tastes. Where my family is from I’m not even used to seeing the sun every single day. S’weird.
Skoll: [chuckles] Its not that hot, we’re not even into summer yet. Sometimes it’ll feel like the sun is two inches away.
Rauta: [playfully] Oh goodie.
[they watch Iske wipe sweat from his brow and roll his neck a little bit, affected by the weather. Even if it is mild.]
Skoll: …..he really seems affected by it more than you.
Rauta: YEAH thing is I’m not affected by much. I feel like I’m always shirtless but Iske isn’t. I don’t really think that its just the weather thats bothering him either.
Skoll: Mm. I guess that makes sense. It must be a really weird transition.
Rauta: Yeah but I’ll live. Iske may seem like the guy who’s not ready for change but he’s been really good about accepting it.
[he pauses in thought and pops another grape into his mouth as he watches Iske silently looking over the troops.]
Rauta: But I can tell hes bothered. He can be a bit dramatic to changes, but its because hes incredibly insecure.
Skoll: …...so hes….
Rauta: Flexing. Yeap. Big time. He’s trying to show off and hope nobody realizes how uncomfortable he is.
Skoll: …...huh. See I kinda got that vibe but I didn’t want to say anything or overstep somewhere.
Rauta: Nah you’re fine. He doesn’t like people knowing that about him at all. He likes to stick with what he knows cus he knows what to predict and expect, you get it. Used to, you couldn’t get him to do shit, but lately hes uhh-
[Iske looks up from his training and makes eye contact with Rauta. He has his eyebrows perked a little bit, as if subconsciously asking for validation. Rauta grins broadly and waves playfully at Iske. Iske’s expression runs a little embarrassed smile as he waves back. Rauta blows him a kiss, Iske responds to it by rubbing his cheek fondly before returning to work]
Rauta: I dunno, I’m proud of him.
Skoll: Awww look at you guyyyys. Big bad warlords givin each other flowers ‘n shit in your lil honeymoon phaaase~. So why air out your husband’s little dark secret?
Rauta: [without looking at Skoll continuing to watch Iske and grinning] When you put it that way it sounds insincere of me, but I do it cus it makes him easier to take. You’re gonna learn that he is all nerves sometimes, and it can get pretty overwhelming. In fact a lot of him is.
[Rauta hushes his tone and leans a little further over, but does not remove his gaze from Iske]
Rauta: Between you and me, sometimes he gets so wrapped up in what he thinks others think and believe about him that he can be really hard to sway unless you have proof. It drives me crazy because it really feels like sometimes he just won’t listen to what you say. No matter how reassuring you think you’re being, it feels like he just wants to be tied up and miserable in his delusions of worthlessness. Like he cannot believe it. It gets so frustrating trying to convince him of something he can’t hear and it starts to feel like he can’t believe me or doesn’t trust me and what I’m saying.
[Rauta looks contemplative as if it pains him to say these things, but shakes his head more reassuringly. Skoll looks to him, offering a sympathetic look.]
Rauta: Just when I think I can't take any more of this, I take a step back and I look at him and I think about how it must feel to be him. He can’t help that he can’t see what I want him to see, that he has to constantly prove himself. There is a great deal of pain being an enemy with yourself, and he just needs someone around to show him and prove to him that what he sees in himself isn’t the reality. And he always comes around. He tries. And that is doubly important that he tries to see what I see and believe me. And I know that being there for him when he is impossible shows him what he needs to see the absolute most, and that he will always be there for me when I’m being impossible. Not just me but others too. Its given him great patience in other people.
Skoll: [looking a bit relieved that that came to a clean conclusion. He chucks a small soft rock at the dirt] Marriage isn’t easy, huh.
Rauta: [visibly relaxing] Yeah I could also wax poetic about how its about loving someone at their worst and shit, but listen. You got that. It’s worth it. Love is worth it. Which is why in Skoggsden you can marry like a billion times and it always means something. It’s always magical and enchanted and whatever.
[Iske shouting at a warrior in the distance “PUTS YOUR FUCKING BACKS INTO IT. USE YOUR FUCKING ARMS.”]
Skoll: I can see what you mean by a little overwhelming.
Ummo: el mayor caso de ovnis en España que acabó en escándalo sexual.
Ummo: el mayor caso de ovnis en España que acabó en escándalo sexual.
Del periodico EL PAIS
El lunes 7 de febrero de 1966, Aluche amaneció conmocionado. Periodistas y curiosos se acercaron al lugar para preguntar por un supuesto objeto volante no identificado que la tarde anterior se habría posado en esa popular barriada madrileña. “Los testigos, sin duda quemados por tantas y tantas historias como se han dicho acerca de los platillos volantes, no han…
