Disclaimer: I don't own RO. Bugger. Lets get on with it!
Fumbling his confidence
And wond'ring why the world has passed him by
Hoping that he's meant for more than arguments
And failed attempts to fly, fly
I felt the usual mess of emotions and thoughts in my head grow fuzzy as the music flowed through me from my headphones. I lay in the shadows of the world. The darkness is part of who I am, the shadows are my home.
We were meant to live for so much more
Have we lost ourselves?
Somewhere we live inside
Somewhere we live inside...
Ah, the peace. Mundane worries eluded my mind. My already sharpened senses became even more acute as the peaceful sounds and smells surrounded me...
Dreaming about providence
And whether mice or men have second tries-
Crash. In fact, the word "crash" does not do justice to what happened next. Pandemonium may do it, or perhaps chaos. The fact remains that Nyx herself descended upon the only peaceful afternoon I'd had in weeks in the form of my personal angelic demon-thing of an associate, slave, and best friend, Carlyle Kincaid. I say angelic demon-thing because he has a knack for making my life hell, while still managing to get positive karma points for it. Life isn't fair.
His high pitched scream pierced the calm of the Payon forest. I found myself fervently hoping that there were no pissed off guild of powerful Wizards bent on killing us because someone kept insisting that what they did was heresy this time. Lyle was now in my (rather large and acute) sense of hearing now. His footfalls were erratic, panicked as they thumped against the forest floor. His voice called out to me.
"JESUSCHRISTLUCIFER HELLLLLLLP"
Even after years of being around him, his voice and his unique...persona still freaked the hell out of me. Lyle is such a pancake. His voice is way too girly for comfort, and the perpetual blush on his 17-year-old virginal self didn't help things at all. To top it off, he was a Priest, and I know that some people are into that sort of thing - not that I have anything against it. Hey, everyone has their own fetish, right? The only thing that's really getting to me is that people were starting to get the wrong idea about us. Whatever it may seem like, my feelings for the lad are entirely fraternal. I love the boy, because its hella hard not to love a guy like that, even for me.
"LUCEEE HELP EDDGA HELP GET IT OFF MY TAILL"
Well, maybe not.
I sprang to my feet in a lithe motion, my assassin's garb making a very impressive "swish" sound. If your ears are fine tuned to it, then maybe you would hear the faintly audible clink that seemed to originate from the depths of my shadowy outfit as I positioned myself, which suggested the presence of various knives, kartars, thumbscrews, and, oh, the usual assortment of torture equipment. I am rather proud of my collection.
I heard Lyle approach me while breathlessly keeping up a string of what passed for swearing for him (hell knows what those stuck up clerics have against the normal stuff. As far as I know, Lyle's vocabulary largely comprises of "Golly" and "Snap"), still stumbling and doing a better job of hurting himself on the brambles than Eddga probably would of him when it caught up. He was less than four feet away from me now. I crouched, tensed like a spring, ready.
"LUCEE-"
I jumped out. He had no chance against a fighter like myself, the weakling. There was a brief scuffle, and we ended up in a highly debatable position together behind the nearest bush. My hand was clamped down on his mouth. I gave him the stern sort of professional assassin look that silenced his panicked squeaks. That didn't stop him from squirming under me, though, as if to intensify the embarrassing closeness. I did a mental headslap. He might be a clueless cookie, and I might be a pervert, but that didn't give him the excuse to exploit my chastity.
"Shh, shut the hell up or that thing will have the both of us!" I hissed at him.
Squeak. Wiggle. Wiggle. Hasty nod.
"I'm going to let go of you, now, okay? Don't make a sound. We could probably take the cat down eventually, but there's no point in bloodshed right now. We'll probably get badly hurt in the process."
Hasty nod. Nod. Nod. Nod.
I moved away from him, glad to have some distance between me and the personification of camp. He set himself upright, looking at me with those wide, awed chocolate brown eyes. Oh, god, that look had to be illegal. I watched blankly as he rustled what felt like each and every leaf in the bush as he made himself comfortable on his haunches, and then scratched his nose (which disrupted a nearby rabbit hole, and caused several lunatics to jump out and hop off). After creating this scene, he felt the need to whisper in a very loud voice, for the benefit of anyone within a mile that felt that Lyle was too incognito.
"Has it gone? Wow, how did you do that? You survived an Eddga attack without even breaking a sweat!"
Those damn chocolate eyes stared at my soul again, adamantly believing that I'm the most wonderful thing in existence. Lyle is like crack- he induces euphoria, but also tends to make you go batshit insane if you overdo him. No, not overdo in that way, you pervert.
"Urn, well, I sat still and waited for it to walk away."
"That was amazing!" He squeaked.
A metaphorical dust bunny drifted past. I sighed. I rolled my eyes. I may be a being of the shadows, but damn, this kid sure makes me want to feel the sun on my face.
Author's Note: Ahaha, this was incredibly fun to write. Review if you liked it, or have any suggestions
