Miracles

Miracles

Postby Rattrap » Sat Feb 01, 2003 6:43 am

( Epilogue of some roleplaying that I and Azura took part in. Thanks for playing with me, Azura. 'S always appreciated. )

Damien woke up, somewhat disorientated. Actually, he was quite disorientated. For one, his field of view was quite a bit lower than he remembered. Generally, when he woke, he was just short of the windows. Now they seemed much too high; it only clicked in after a quiet moment of thought that he must be on the ground. A glance to both his left and right confirmed this, as well as the location of the bed he should've been on. He must've rolled off, then.

Damien sat up, propping himself up with one hand while running the other through his hair. Huh. He couldn't remember what exactly had happened last night. Nor why he was here...this wasn't his house, after all. There were various blades hanging from the walls with even a greater variation of unintelligible runes. Ah. *Click*. Azura, that's right. The kindly woman invited him here. Still couldn't remember why, though; but oh well. He'd just ask her. If she was around.

Damien stood, stretching his back out. He was a little stiff from sleeping on the floor. He located his shirt and jacket not too far off from his own sleeping position and tugged them on. He must've slept with his pants on, as they were on when he woke up - Damien was sort of disappointed at this fact, as now he couldn't entertain indecent scenarios as to what might have gone on last night. Ah, well; least he could say he kept decent. Why look at the glass half empty?

He walked around the place, looking for any sign of Azura. He found his ranseur leaning against the wall in the entry room. Damien vaguely remembered putting it there - Azura must've said it was okay, as he wouldn't have put such a weapon against any hospitable person's wall. It tended to leave scratches and nicks. He left it there for the moment, content that there would be no life threatening demon inside the humble abode.

Inside what he would've identified as the kitchen, Damien found a note on the table. Sure enough, it was Azura telling him she'd gone out. Before even finishing the note, Damien was looking over the kitchen for signs of breakfast - after all, such a thing always accompanied such a note. It always had to say, 'Breakfast is on yaddya yaddya'. After failing to find the said meal anywhere in the room, he consulted the note once more. Ah ha! It was there, sure enough, but the meal was waiting for him in the room he awoke. Apparently he didn't notice from his floor high view.

Damien prowled back into the room, quickly discovering the said food. It took only half as long to eat it as it did to find it, even if it was a little cold. Actually, there wasn't really much heat to it at all. But he didn't mind. After eating, he returned to the entry room and took his ranseur. As he pushed open the door, Damien discovered that something had been nagging at him ever since he awoke. Something wasn't right. Huh.

Damien patted himself down, right arm left arm legs, everything. Maybe there was a tick on him or something. But...nope. Nothin'. He was as good as new. Hey...waitasec. *Click*. Damien just realized that he -was- as good as new. When he came here yesterday, he wasn't. In fact, much of his right side was cracked and broken, and his arm was completely shattered. Yet...it was fine now.


"WHOOOOO HOOOOOO!" Damien cried out into the cool morning air. He hopped about for a couple of minutes, thrashing the ranseur blindly about in joy. Once he'd purged the excitement from his system, he fooled about with his ranseur for even slightly longer, just to see if he still had all his old moves. Yep. Not to mention the new ones he'd practiced with only one arm.

"Yes! Ah, this is -so- great! I can't believe it! It's a goddamned miracle is what it is! Ooooohhhh, Azura, I owe ya plenty. If ever need be, I'll gladly cut my arm off for ya. 'S because of you that I have an arm to cut off!"

Despite the lack of her presence, Damien said his pledge anyway. And then he left, in search of spoils and various odd jobs that one can do to make a coin here and there.
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Rattrap
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