A/N; Okay, I spoke about using my character, Kathryn, in a story with Desna's Pradesh family. Well... I may have finally decided to do that. I was on the fence about it because I didn't want to make them OOC for what she had in mind for them, but, I think I got them right so far? I guess we'll see and I can always fix anything that's wrong with their thoughts and/or speech patterns when we get to that point. We won't see any of them until next chapter, so, this chapter is all about Kathryn, my character based on myself.
This is very obviously an AU that is a combination for what I had in mind for after the war with Alvarez and Desna's Pradesh-verse. Go easy on me, I'm still trying to get back into my writing after taking so long away due to my serious case of writer's block. Also, for any hoping to see Lucy and Natsu together, you should probably leave here because I, personally, don't write them together. Not a fan of the combination, even if it IS cannon. I love crack ships and love surprising my readers, so, forgive me for that one small fault, okay?
Enjoy, lovelies!
Word Count: 3,369
Birds chirped happily from their perches within the trees. The sound of a creek gurgling nearby drifted through the wind, the swirling and lapping waters carving out their own path from the peaks of the towering mountains that were crested with the smallest of snowcaps left over from the receding winter just past.
From the scattered leaves fallen from the barren trees that stood watch over the lone cabin that lay within the woods, small green sprouts burst their way through. Small buds began to form on the limbs of the trees, promising the spring that hung heavy in the air.
The occupant of the cabin paid no heed to the changing of the seasons, her head not even rousing from her work as she stayed hunched over the large, intricately carved oak desk. Silky strands of pink hair were piled up high on her head in a loose bun and shone in the little light that managed to work it's way through the board-covered window nearby.
The young woman sighed, scratching her pen through several lines of writing. A scowl worked its way onto her face as she leaned back to roll her neck, her eyes closed as she worked out the kinks in the muscles there.
Reaching up to grab the ceramic mug that sat beside her lamp with a furiously dimming bulb, the pinkette tucked her tongue between her teeth as she reread what she'd written above those last, struck-through lines. It was with dismay that she found the mug empty, prompting her to put it back down with a huffing sigh as she gazed longingly at the empty bottle that sat in the rubbish bin at her feet.
"Why is the rum always gone?" She whimpered with a shake to her head.
Pushing away from the desk, the wheel on the chair giving a creak of protest, she stood up and stretched her back. A moan of pleasure swept past her pert lips from the pops that ran their way up her spine. After hours of sitting at that desk, she needed to stand up and replenish her supplies… those beside the desk, anyways.
The cabin was quite literally two rooms, just as minimalistic as she'd required when seeking out a home. The main room was a compact living area that hosted a bed that conveniently converted into a couch, were she in the mood to turn on the small lacrama television that hung above the fireplace. A wardrobe sat along one wall and held all of her clothing, the slight amount of garments fulfilling all that she required in such a thing when she made rare trips into the town down the mountain for supplies.
The other half of the room supported a tiny kitchen nook that was comprised of a small refrigerator, a stove powered by firewood, and a single table that doubled as both a counter and where she would take her meals on the lone stool that had one leg supported by a thick, leather-bound book. It was small, but it served it's purpose, much like the bathroom that had a shower, sink, and toilet. Nothing more, nothing less.
The only signs that anyone actually lived in the cabin were the dishes that sat in the sink from the last time the woman had eaten- nearly two days ago- and the laundry basket that sat near the door, waiting for her to take the clothes down to the stream so she could wash them. It was simple and neat, exactly what she required and exactly what she'd acquired.
Clucking her tongue, the pinkette bent over the refrigerator and scanned it's contents. Deciding on a simple sandwich, she pulled out what was required and set them onto her table/counter, kicking the door shut behind her. With the push of a button on a device nearby, music poured into the room as the woman continued crafting her sandwich with a slight sway to her hips to the pounding beats coming through the speakers on the windowsill.
She adored living this life, answering to no one and living how she wanted to. There was something to be said for the fact that she isolated herself from the world, and she knew that it was simply because she was, in simple terms, afraid.
Afraid of the world. Afraid of what that world might think about what she was.
It was a struggle within her mind that she dealt with on a daily basis. Ever since she'd been released from those bonds back before… before, she had lived with the fear that the world might fear what she could do, what she knew.
That was why she isolated herself and, at first, she'd hated the solitude, being of the social variety of people in the past. This self-imposed prison of her own making had slowly, excruciatingly slowly, become something that she would never trade for anything. Even if trading that solitude would give her back a sense of worth, it would be detrimental for the reason that she'd left it all behind.
Sitting on the stool that wobbled against the book before settling into place, the young woman ate in silence. She pulled the top off of a bottle of dark liquid, shrugging to herself from the fact she'd forgotten her cup by her desk as she took a large gulp straight from the neck of the bottle. It wasn't like she was sharing the rum with anyone to begin with.
When she'd finished her sandwich, the woman stood and tossed the plate into the sink, the ceramic clattering with other dishes waiting for her to gather up the desire to wash them. She turned up the music before walking out onto her porch with the bottle of rum grasped firmly in her hand. It was there that she leaned on the railing, taking another gulp from the bottle while she idly reached over to grasp the ash tray and pack of cigarettes that were balanced on the wood precariously.
The first inhale from the cigarette had the woman's eyes closing halfway as she set the bottle down for the time being and allowed her mind to wander. She took in the smells of spring coming, her body falling lax.
It would be nice to see the place bursting to life, just like it did every year. Small animals would be rousing from their winter slumber soon, bringing new life to the forest before the larger ones would follow their lead. It always went like that, the larger creatures giving their food source a chance to reproduce and grow fat on the plant life before they, too, followed the gnawing hunger and awoke to the land flourishing with sustenance.
Her belladonna and laurels would be sprouting back to life soon. She could see the first hints of green on the plants near the cabin. They would be beautiful, just as they always were, and she couldn't wait to see them in the middle of summer when they would be at their peak of blooms. When the belladonna would be covered in it's gorgeous and glistening black berries, the laurels with their tiny, white flowers peaking out through the lush leaves.
Yes, it would be magnificent.
She snubbed out the cigarette in the ash tray and lifted the rum bottle to her lips just as a loud crash echoed nearby. This caused the woman to slosh the rum down her chest, drenching her shirt and drawing a groan of frustration from her lips.
"Gods," She grumbled, putting the bottle back down and pulling off the baggy sweatshirt over her head.
The light slanted into the patio and across the woman's bared skin, revealing a multitude of swirling tattoos. They were startlingly black, moving almost ethereally across her pale flesh similar to the way that smoke curled through the air. Such as it was doing at that moment from the nostrils of the young woman as she grumbled in frustration at the waste of two shots' worth of her beloved rum.
Something caught her attention, making her head snap up as she scented the air like a bloodhound. What she caught in the wind had her cursing as she darted into the cabin, throwing the soaked sweatshirt into the laundry basket as she snatched up a new shirt from the wardrobe and pulled it on at the same time as she slid her feet into a pair of worn hiking boots.
The cabin door slammed as the pinkette ran into the forest as fast as her legs would carry her. She was in excellent shape, having kept to a rigorous training schedule she followed every single morning at dawn. Her destination was close by and, as she drew closer, the sounds of the crashing grew louder, almost deafening to her as she approached with smoke still pouring out of her nostrils as adrenaline flooded her system.
The wyvern was massive, and had awoken far too early into the season. She could understand it's anger as it swung it's massive head to screech at whomever had been stupid enough to disturb the tail-end of hibernation season. She could barely make out the sprout of green hair on the other side of the clearing the beast had created in it's struggle and she silently cursed the idiot for just standing there when they should quite literally be running for their life.
The pinkette wasted no time in holding her hands up in the air and allowing energy to form in her palms in the form of a large swirling mass. The energy was crushing, forcing the plant life nearby to flatten to the ground under the growing pressure as the black orb continued to grow in size before condensing down to that of a basketball.
"Ghost Cannon!" She shouted, shifting her hands forward as the orb shot out into a dark beam and barreled into the side of the wyvern.
The screech that erupted from the beast was deafening, echoing through the forest as scales tore away. When it was clear that the wyvern was done with it's rampage, the woman cut off the magic, allowing the creature to spread it's massive wings and fly away with a noticeable flinch with each downstroke.
Scenting the air once the wyvern was out of sight, the pinkette sighed heavily before making her way over to the green hair she'd seen before. She found the person, a woman, collapsed against a tree and breathing heavily. She was curled around some object that immediately caught the pinkette's attention, her smokey gray eyes narrowing in irritation.
"You've got to be the most idiotic person I've met in my entire life," She growled out to the slightly taller greenette who unwound herself to peer up with a glittering amber gaze. "Stealing an egg from a wyvern just out of hibernation? That's a testament to how fucking stupid you are and you're lucky to be alive."
"What?" The greenette questioned before following the other woman's gaze down to the massive egg that she'd been curled around previously. "Oh! No, you've got it wrong, sugar tits. I was returning the egg. A poacher I beat up yesterday took it from her and I was trying to give it back. The wyvern didn't like what I had to say about her taking better care of her young and was quite vocal about it."
The woman crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head at the stranger, letting the nickname go, for now. "I'd say she sure as fuck was vocal." Her gaze flickered over to the bloody shoulder a moment before realizing that it was already bandaged, meaning that the blood she'd smelled was from a reopened wound as opposed to a fresh one.
"Oh, yeah I got this from that poacher," The other woman shrugged with a scowl. "Lucky shot. The egg is kinda heavy, so, my cut reopened on my trip here. Mama wyvern wasn't too happy about me being bloody and she said she was going to hunt that poacher down and for me to leave her egg in the cave for her while she's gone. She said she forgave you for hurting her, by the way."
"The wyvern said?" The pinkette was dumbfounded by the explanation from the other woman and quite literally gaped a moment before shaking her head in dismissal. "You know what? I don't care. You're crazy."
Turning on her heel, she began to walk home, intent on finishing the bottle of rum and having had enough of socializing for the next… oh… twenty years or so. If everyone in this world was as crazy as that woman was, she was certainly happy with her choice to be a hermit and would die happily alone so long as she didn't have to deal with anyone else that was convinced a wyvern spoke to them ever again.
"Hey! Wait!"
Ignoring the calls from the other woman were easy as she kept up the brisk pace. All she wanted was to get home and back to what she was doing, perhaps make that trip to the stream so she could wash her clothing. She hated the smell of dirty clothes and it was beginning to get to her. Not to mention the fact that she'd been putting it off for far too long in pursuit of other tasks.
Her silvery gaze flickered to the side and narrowed to see that the greenette had caught up with her and was gasping for breath from the obvious mad dash she'd made. "Go away."
"That's not very nice," The woman said with a sour expression. "These woods are public land, so, I can technically go wherever I want."
"True enough," The pinkette replied icily, turning back to focus on getting home. "But, you can also technically disappear, if you annoy me. So, I find myself repeating myself when I say to go away."
She hissed out a breath of irritation when the taller woman stepped into her path, holding up her hands with a cheeky grin on her face. "Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. My name's Marie."
The smaller woman eyed the extended hand dubiously before looking up to the greenette blandly. "Good for you."
"What's your name?" The self-proclaimed 'Marie' started when the pinkette skirted around her to keep walking towards her home.
"Why do you care?"
"You can't answer a question with another question," She protested, sounding very similar to a child that didn't get their way and rising the other woman's irritation meter.
"Just did."
"Why are you so… bitchy?"
The pinkette rounded on the other woman, her meter maxed out as she growled low in her throat. "Because people like you don't know when to leave people like me the fuck alone," She snapped out, huffing in frustration when Marie didn't even flinch away from her.
Instead, the greenette gasped in shock. "You're a dragon slayer too?!"
This roused some of her interest as she regarded Marie carefully, watching for any signs that this woman was trying to say she was what she'd just implied just to get off on her reaction. "What do you mean, 'too'?"
"Oh! I'm sorry," Marie laughed a bit before grinning widely once more. "I should have mentioned why I could talk to that wyvern. I'm Marie, the Beast Dragon Slayer."
The smaller woman studied her unwanted companion with a diligent eye, quickly taking in her appearance for a moment. She picked up on the pointed canines that were signature for their kind of magic, though, she had one question that somewhat piqued her interest. "What do you eat, then?"
The look that came over Marie's face was one of utter devastation and had the other woman wanting to take back the question. She didn't need to hear the confirmation of her suspicions to know that what Marie fed her magic with was not something the green haired woman enjoyed doing. It made her pity the woman slightly, even if she had been an immense thorn in her side for the last thirty minutes.
"I… yeah…" Marie sighed and trailed off a moment before gathering her courage to speak once more. "I feed on animals once a month, just enough to keep my magic stable. I can usually live off of the energy they give off, if, only if, they allow me to use their skills for a time. It's hard, but, I get by. Laman said that I wouldn't have to do that any more, if I could find other slayers to just feed off of their excess energy."
"Your dragon."
She nodded enthusiastically, "Mhm! She taught me everything I know after she found me as a baby."
"Usukwe was the same for me," The other woman replied, deciding that she would at least give this woman some information. "He found me as a child and taught me his magic."
"Cool! I've never met any other slayers before, but I heard about others in another guild across the border. I don't really know if they're all dragon-raised because I heard whispers about how there were, like, different classifications for us," Marie continued, not noticing that the pinkette had given her full attention to what was being said.
"Others? More like us, you mean?" She questioned slowly, making sure she'd heard correctly.
If that was the case, maybe the world wouldn't be as afraid of her as she'd previously thought. That meant that she might actually be allowed to go back to living in the hustle and bustle of the city. Her heart ached just thinking about it.
Marie nodded once more, her eyes glistening with excitement. "I was on my way up to Bosco when I passed that poacher carrying the wyvern egg," She explained. "I heard that there were some slayers that were also raised by a dragon there. Recently."
This made the pinkette stop in her tracks and narrow her silver gaze at Marie. "How recently?"
She shrugged. "I don't know for certain, but, the animals I spoke to said they'd seen one there as early as eight years ago. Which, I thought was weird, seeing as my mother sent me here through a portal."
"So, you remember going through the gate, then?" Interesting, she thought when she earned a nod. "Thank you for the information, it's been helpful."
"Of course!" Marie chirped happily. "Listen, hey, if you're planning on heading that way, maybe we could travel together?"
The pinkette eyes the other woman a moment, unsure if she could handle the spunky attitude of Marie for too long, though she almost was beginning to find it endearing about her. It would be nice not to be totally alone anymore, and she hadn't decided if she wanted to actually go to Bosco. Sure, the way things were headed in Fiore wasn't ideal, but she hadn't shown anyone else her magic and she figured that she would be safe from the military so long as she kept her presence hidden. But, was it really worth keeping her cabin to live like a refugee?
After mulling it over a moment, she came to the conclusion that it would likely be a good time to just get out of the country while she could. Preferably, before the new Queen decided to expand her hunt of mages to the mountain range the young woman was currently residing in. She could foresee the situation getting worse now that Hisui had decided that if she couldn't use magic, no one in her kingdom could and, with the amount of damage caused by the war with Alvarez from those in guilds, it was bound to get messy.
"Alright," She decided simply, knowing this would be the best course of action. "We'll gather some supplies from my cabin and leave at sundown."
"Awesome!" Marie was practically bouncing on her heels as the pair resumed walking. "So, want to tell me your name now? Or, should I just keep calling you 'sugar tits'?"
A wry smile formed on the pinkette's face as she slanted the Beast Dragon Slayer with a look. "Kathryn. Kathryn the Smoke Dragon Slayer."
A/N; For anyone thinking that this is just a rewrite of my story, Call of Cthulhu, I am only using the character designs from that story for Marie and Kathryn. Sorry, but, the others from my group of friends won't be making an appearance as I promised my bestie, who Marie is based off of, that she would get a story with only her and I included. As a writer, you can only create so many characters until you run out of ideas and putting Kathryn in stories is kind of my thing. I've written her into a ton of them and don't think I'll be stopping any time soon. Hint: Kathryn and Cobra aren't a thing in this story. She and Marie are destined for Pradesh boys, but you don't get to know who, yet!