Walter C. Dornez (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
angel_of_death) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
avalononline2020-12-21 06:27 pm
angel_of_death) wrote in avalononline2020-12-21 06:27 pm
Live Video Feed | Anonymous
[Those who have met Walter before will recognise the face they see—a pale boy with obsidian-black hair. Said hair is drenched, weighed down and sticking to his face. He's out in the storm, tucked into a makeshift shelter that appears to be constructed with fallen branches. They shake considerably in the wind, and the wind itself is howling, significantly interfering with the quality of the sound.]
Right the-. [Right then.]
As you can see-- [And hear.] -- the wea--er's right foul --- here. If you're not already out, y-- probably shou--n't come out.
[The weather's right foul out here. If you're not already out, you probably shouldn't come out.
His frown turning into a scowl, the boy tucks back deeper into the shelter, cupping his hand near the phone's microphone. With his hand blocking the wind, there's less interruption, but the background noise of heavy pattering starts to come through as well. The branches and their leaves are visibly shivering under the assault, and seem to jerk with each gust of wind.]
There's hail ranging from mint imperial size right up to the size of golf balls in addition to the rain, so watch yourself if you do come out.
[One untimely hit with a golf ball sized bit in just the right spot is liable to knock a bloke out, he figures. He looks up, glancing off camera to his side as a few branches move on camera. There's the hint of someone moving in the periphery of the feed, apparently doing what they can to shore up their little shelter. His mouth opens as he speaks to check on them, but the words are lost to the feed as lightning flashes and thunder strikes.]
Swiving piss--!
[ That immediate answer was a response to the cracking thunder than what Walter asked, though it's clearer than the words that follow. Once again the microphone struggles to pick up the other's voice properly. ]
Aye, well--t'keep us livin' for a bit. It won't last f--under this much!
[ Even half cut by the noise, it's a voice that might be familiar to a handful of others: Cehd'ra's the one putting the shelter together. At least as best as he can with the tools he has available. Which are none. ]
--mazed that works t'all right now. Y'callin--help?
-o. I w-s warning --em about th- hail.
[The dark haired boy looks back to the screen, shielding the microphone again.]
I suppose if anyone that's completed the ritual that grants us so-called immortality wants to come out, the fellow building the shelter here might like some help.
[It's then that another strike of lightning hits. It's so close that anyone watching the feed can see the flash of it reflected in the boy's eyes. There's a horrific crack followed immediately by another crackling boom.]
—Well that tree just exploded.
[The boy is unruffled, but clearly annoyed.]
[ Whatever Cehd'ra might have to say at that subtle dig is overridden by said explosion. Quite suddenly Walter is no longer alone on the screen, Cehd'ra having decided the lean-to being 'good enough'. Or maybe he just didn't want to risk being pelted with heated splinters as well as hailstones.
His eyes are large and his ears flat, one can imagine how puffed up his tail is, but he offers the screen his best reassuring smile. ]
Wasn't ours, though! 'Picked a small one t'hide under, we'll be fine. For a bit. So...no rush!
[ Please rush. ]
[Walter, in the meantime, shoots his companion a wholly sceptical look. Even if he's confident they'll make it through, he doesn't believe that 'no rush' business, either.]
Right the-. [Right then.]
As you can see-- [And hear.] -- the wea--er's right foul --- here. If you're not already out, y-- probably shou--n't come out.
[The weather's right foul out here. If you're not already out, you probably shouldn't come out.
His frown turning into a scowl, the boy tucks back deeper into the shelter, cupping his hand near the phone's microphone. With his hand blocking the wind, there's less interruption, but the background noise of heavy pattering starts to come through as well. The branches and their leaves are visibly shivering under the assault, and seem to jerk with each gust of wind.]
There's hail ranging from mint imperial size right up to the size of golf balls in addition to the rain, so watch yourself if you do come out.
[One untimely hit with a golf ball sized bit in just the right spot is liable to knock a bloke out, he figures. He looks up, glancing off camera to his side as a few branches move on camera. There's the hint of someone moving in the periphery of the feed, apparently doing what they can to shore up their little shelter. His mouth opens as he speaks to check on them, but the words are lost to the feed as lightning flashes and thunder strikes.]
Swiving piss--!
[ That immediate answer was a response to the cracking thunder than what Walter asked, though it's clearer than the words that follow. Once again the microphone struggles to pick up the other's voice properly. ]
Aye, well--t'keep us livin' for a bit. It won't last f--under this much!
[ Even half cut by the noise, it's a voice that might be familiar to a handful of others: Cehd'ra's the one putting the shelter together. At least as best as he can with the tools he has available. Which are none. ]
--mazed that works t'all right now. Y'callin--help?
-o. I w-s warning --em about th- hail.
[The dark haired boy looks back to the screen, shielding the microphone again.]
I suppose if anyone that's completed the ritual that grants us so-called immortality wants to come out, the fellow building the shelter here might like some help.
[It's then that another strike of lightning hits. It's so close that anyone watching the feed can see the flash of it reflected in the boy's eyes. There's a horrific crack followed immediately by another crackling boom.]
—Well that tree just exploded.
[The boy is unruffled, but clearly annoyed.]
[ Whatever Cehd'ra might have to say at that subtle dig is overridden by said explosion. Quite suddenly Walter is no longer alone on the screen, Cehd'ra having decided the lean-to being 'good enough'. Or maybe he just didn't want to risk being pelted with heated splinters as well as hailstones.
His eyes are large and his ears flat, one can imagine how puffed up his tail is, but he offers the screen his best reassuring smile. ]
Wasn't ours, though! 'Picked a small one t'hide under, we'll be fine. For a bit. So...no rush!
[ Please rush. ]
[Walter, in the meantime, shoots his companion a wholly sceptical look. Even if he's confident they'll make it through, he doesn't believe that 'no rush' business, either.]
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I think it's time to move!
[His ears should be ringing from that wave of thunder, he realises; perhaps there was some truth to what was said about the ritual after all.]
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Aye!
[ Walter doesn't need the help, that's becoming apparent, but Cehd'ra gives it anyway. He keeps the boy with him as he darts away from the tree, one arm held over his head for protection and the other held out for him to take.
Getting out of the forest will open them up to new problems but it will also get them closer to the city, closer to rescue. Even if it means meeting that dog again... ]
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and he is certain, not the last, the battle-hardened teen finds it frustrating that others see him as a child.]I'm fine! Just keep going!
[He raises both arms as he pushes on, shielding his head as Cehd'ra is doing. Even if they're probably protected from damage, it would still be annoying to have a hailstone land on his head.]
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'Don't want y'getting lost!
[ Though the chaos also keeps Cehd'ra from getting his point across clearly. He stops short of forcing the matter, determined to keep his eye on Walter if nothing else.
Hail strikes the ground around them with enough force to send mud and leaves scattering, bouncing off shoulders and raised arms as they run. ]
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I will not get lost and we're headed in the same direction anyway!!
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[ Even through his frustration Cehd'ra doggedly follows just behind Walter, watching and ready to help if the lad needs it. ]
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[Aggravated, Walter stretches out his arm, intending to push the hail away with kinetic magic, only the damn stuff is pulled towards him instead.]
Damn it!! [He hisses, whipping his arm out to throw it to the side only for the hail in his reach to do precisely the opposite. But it will work. At least now, even if it's going to the other side of him, it's being tossed in a direction vaguely away.]
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If not for the storm the Miqo'te might have picked up on it sooner. Now, with that outburst, Cehd'ra knows to choose his words with more care...though he can't say his actions would be much different. ]
Gods be good...
[ Now isn't the time. Cehd'ra puts his answer on hold, instead continuing to stick close. Especially now that the young man's magic is coming into play...he may not be using it perfectly but it's proving far more useful than Cehd'ra's would.
As little as he looks forward to seeing it again, Cehd'ra looks ahead for any sign of that dog. ]
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It was something to tuck away for later because right now his priority is to follow and help.
When he reaches the pair who seems to have abandoned their shelter (there's no question about why that would be, really, given the state of the storm), he's just walking normally. Since the ritual seems to have granted them limited immortality of sorts he thought it was a waste of energy to shield himself. If one didn't take the possibility of fatal injury to account a blow to the head and a blow to the arm really weren't that different.
Especially when he could just use healing magic later. Sooner or later he'd have to practise treating head wounds and why not do it when death isn't a possibility?
If anything, it's his clothes getting drenched that's a bigger concern. He didn't have that many extra sets. That, and not being able to find his way back.
In other words, if one were to ignore the wet clothes and the storm around them he acted and spoke as if this were just a normal stroll in normal weather on which he happened to run into people he knew.]
Ah, there you two are.
[Walter looks mad. That's the first thing he notices when he's close enough. He himself had been moody at times but generally not very quick to anger about most things. Still, he understood the pride of young men well enough even so to know better than to open with 'are you all right?'
Instead, he pushed wet hair out of his face with a sigh. There's a bruise on his temple where he had been hit by a hailstone earlier.]
The cost to repair the damage from this storm would be quite fearsome, won't it? [He said as if that were a major concern...which in a way it was. He had no money, after all.]
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It will. But the work will be easy if we work together.
[So long as enough of them know what the hell they are doing.
That said, the hail dropping on his shoulders, arms, and head is quickly becoming annoying, so he irritably thrusts it to the side again.]
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But that dog's back, too. Cehd'ra bites his tongue, quickly putting both Walter and Chang Geng between him and the familiar, even if that means dealing with more hail as they walk. ]
S'something t'sort out with a roof over our heads, innit?
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[It wasn't hard to tell that the person with Walter didn't like the Black Dog. Whether it was due to it being a dog or it being a creature of ill omen, however, he couldn't say.
Nor was it important, he supposed.]
I thought I could make conversation as we walk.
[He's mildly impressed with the way Walter through those hailstones away. Kinetic magic sure was useful!
Either way, he gestures at his pixiu and together they start leading the way. Animals have better senses so though he'd try to make sure he was aware of what direction he moved in, he's also allowing his pixiu to show him the way.]
The cellar I was in is closer than the hotel, we can stay there until the storm passes.
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A proper, sturdy umbrella would be a good thing to have in the future, he reasons.]
Oh? Do you have a house now?
[If he was sheltering in the cellar, the wind in the city must truly be terrible, Walter thinks.]
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Once Walter is able to stretch his magic far enough to protect each of their heads, Cehd'ra lowers his arms with a deep breath. Beyond that...he keeps to himself. Maybe once they get back to the city he can find some excuse to go his own way. The wiser thing would be to ask to take shelter with them, but if the dog is going to be there... ]
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Instead, he huffed a short laugh, almost a scoff but gentler.]
Where would I have the money for a house? I am merely staying in an unoccupied space that doesn't seem like I'd be thrown out of.
[Telling Walter not to use his magic to protect them seemed like it wouldn't go over well, so he kept his mouth shut about that.
He had been quiet as a child and kept to himself often. He was hardly going to be the sort to force someone to join in a conversation. But he still looks back in concern.]
Ah, I forgot to ask. Did you complete the ritual?
[Which is to say, are you find being out in this cold?
The way back to the city is pretty straightforward, at least and with this storm there probably isn't anything out and about.]
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As for completing the ritual... Well, the answer to that question is simple enough.]
I did.
[The whole thing. Even the running around naked part, though no way in Heaven, Hell, or anything in between is Walter going to say that out loud in front of a stranger.]
I still wish I had a decent coat for the weather.
[Or at least a change of clothes. His white shirt was practically see-through at this point. Thankfully his pants and waistcoat were dark wool.]
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[He glances briefly back at their third companion but decides he didn't look like he was dying of the cold so perhaps he was all right as well.
So he returns to looking ahead in the direction they're going.]
Sadly, I don't have a coat to offer otherwise it'd be yours.
[At least the cellar had four walls and a ceiling. But he makes a note of that request, filed it away as something to consider when the chance arose.
He walked, only pausing once they've reached the edge of town to make sure he's heading in the correct direction. He tries to keep a brisk pace, not so much worried about the storm as he's worried about Walter exhausting himself. Especially once he started being able to spot familiar landmarks.
Once they arrived, he crouched down to open the cellar doors. Then he gestured at them.]
Please get inside.
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It's in the middle of this precise thought that Li Min's generous words offering a non-existent coat reach his ears, taking Walter completely off-guard. His lips part without a sound, quickly shutting after. What does he even say to something like that?
It's far easier to throw his focus into using his magic.
Sure enough, by the time they get to their destination, Walter is already feeling the effects of using his magic over a prolonged period. He feels tired, his mind sluggish even as he forces his steps along at a passably adequate speed. He doesn't interfere with Li Min opening the cellar doors on his own, instead dimly marvelling at yet another benevolent gesture.]
...You're too kind.
[How did he manage to meet such a nice person?
Dropping his arm, the English youth starts the descent into the cellar, his familiar following behind him.]