Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Dead Grass on Either Side

(This story was done in collaboration with another person. Their side of things can be seen here: Another's Shoes...Or Lack There Of )

      He was going to kill her. He didn't care what he had to do, whether it was make her scrub the bloody ghoul pit with her tongue, or sort through a dozen forms every single time she wanted to blink, he was going to make her regret whatever had just happened. 

      She had come barging in, fresh from Durotar, to show him some device or something she had gotten off of one of the Kor'kron. They had decide it must have been for use in infiltration or something. Or that's what they had finally settled on after he'd tried to ignore it as he was bound to do. After that things were fuzzy. The one thing he was certain of was that he wasn't in his office.

      He kept his eyes shut, face pressed against something soft. Slowly he moved his hand against the surface, moving closer to his head. At first all he could feel was some sort of soft cloth, before his hand hit something even softer. He frowned. It was a pillow. He was laying on someone's bed.

      Pushing himself up from the bed, his frown grew. This was his quarters, either. Red turned over, shifting into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes. It felt like his brain was in a fog, his vision was still clearing, and his ears were ringing. For some ungodly reason he couldn't smell either.

      "Beck," he muttered to himself, "So help me if I don't throttle you." Rubbing his temples, he could feel his head starting to clear, but only slightly. "'Oh it wasn't my fault Red,'" he grumbled doing his best impersonation. "'It's not like you can blame me for this!'"

      He stopped, looking around. He could have swore he had heard...No, no. The room was empty, aside from the furniture and him. Going off the size and amount of closets he didn't even want to guess on what or how much the contained. He shivered. It was bloody cold in here.

      "Alright," he muttered again to himself, "Now where are w-..." he stopped again, grabbing his throat. Beck wasn't in the room, but it certainly sounded like it. Wait. No, it couldn't be. This had to be her quarters. That certainly explained why it was larger. He recalled her having broken down a few walls. Someone had dragged him to her quarters? But if he sounded like Beck, it was possible that he...

      In one part of the room, he spotted a mirror. Sighing he slowly stood, not daring to take his eyes off of the mirror. Something was obviously off. He stumbled and almost fell flat on his face. Once he had managed to straighten himself, he almost instantly recognized it as a problem he had had to deal with not but a month or two ago. There was a sense of dread growing in his stomach.

      Approaching it from the side, he shook his head. "You're gonna regret this, you know," Becky said for him. At least that what he wanted to think. He shut his eyes tightly, slowly inching to the right until he figured he had to be in front of the glass. Slowly he opened them, and he sighed. As he feared, staring back at him was Beckyann Eastburg. Red went through a motion, first raising his hand, then gently tapping his cheek, sighing when the reflection did exactly that. Looking at his hands, he wiggled his pinkies, feeling odd to even have them. Becky's nails were...What was the word? Manicured? Something like that, to the point where he swore if he needed to he could have used them just like he still had claws. Looking down at his armor, he could easily tell why he was cold. He didn't exactly feel safe. On his head he could feel some sort of metal, and reaching up confirmed that he was now wearing some sort of headband. Why was he even having to go through this checklist? He'd seen Beck enough to know that.

      His attention was diverted for a short moment when there was a thud at the door. He blinked, looking to it, swearing it had to be some sort of explosion. Outside it sounded like someone was talking, and two other someone's were screaming their lungs out. There was a pause before he finally decided to check. Cracking the door open and peeking out, he found only an empty hallway, and what appeared to be ash on the other side of the hall. Frowning he slunk back inside, and shut the door, leaning back against it.

      It was only a moment before he could hear someone outside talking again. Through the door, he could hear someone screaming "Ma'am?"

      With a sigh, he reopened the door, staring at the person on the other side. A Private. "You could have just bloody knocked, you know," he said, holding back the urge to cringe at his voice.

      The Private blinked, shaking his head. "The last time I knocked ma'am, I was almost blown to kingdom come, ma'am. The door..." He trailed off, staring at the door, a visible shudder going down his back.

      Red blinked, looking at the door. "Looks fine to me," he said, shrugging before looking at the Private again, "What do you want?"

      The Private held up a small stack of papers, "You have a patrol scheduled, ma'am."

      Red was frowning now, "I didn't schedule any patrols." He almost hoped the Private would buy it.

      "I believe Captain Pendlegast had them scheduled for you, ma'am," the Private said, looking down at the pages.

      "Never heard of them," Red said. When the Private held up the papers again and Red snatched them from his hand, looking them over. Without another word he pushed past the Private, pulling the door closed behind him. Had he been watching he would have seen the Private recoil in fear as he almost made contact with the wood.

      In turn the Private missed Red mutter, "It's not like anything happens on these bloody things, right?"

      Working his way out to the balcony, Red gave the geist manning the gryphons down to the Enclave a small nod, finding a small group had already assembled. They were already mounted. Upon seeing him arrive, they gave him a nod and a salute. He did the same in return, trying to ignore the urge to turn around, and find Beck. I figured now was probably a bad time to be strangling her.

      He squinted slightly, having to think to remember the words to summon a deathcharger. When he finally recalled it, he sighed as the beast rode up, almost missing the fact that it tried to run him down. Red rolled to the side, barely missing it.

      “Bloody psychopathic freak o' nature!” he shouted as it went past. Staring at it, he rose only when he was certain it wasn't going to try it again. Rising, he brushed himself off, and redirected what hair had found its way in front of his face back behind it. Looking to the Privates that were still in line, he shook his head, “Did you see that? Thing tried to take me out. Bloody hell.”

      “Are you...Feeling okay, ma'am?” one of them, a woman, asked, looking at him quizzically.

      He shook his head, “Yeah, just fine. Think I'll be walkin' though, know? Doubt I wanna ride that thing.” Ignoring the strange looks they gave him, he simply walked past them, and soon enough heard them trailing behind.

      They moved silently through the Enclave until they reached the main portion of the Plaguelands. He occasionally shot a glance over his shoulder, only to find them staring at him oddly. Finally the footsteps behind him came to a stop. Red blinked and stopped himself, “What?”

      “Forsaken ahead, ma'am,” one of the Privates said, pointing.

      “Well. They probably got as much a right to be around here as we do, I'd guess. I've seen the Horde running through here,” he muttered. “They gonna be hostile?”

      “It's a possibility.”

      “Well...We can just wait to see if they pass.”

      Again he could feel their eyes digging into him. He simply crossed his arms, trying to ignore the awkward feeling of doing so, and watched down the road. There were about four of them, from what he could see, and he was in no mood to be starting a fight. After a few minutes had passed, they turned and went off towards the west, leaving them the only people on the road.

      “See? What'd I tell ya. Went right on their merry way,” Red said, smirking. He took a step forward, his foot slamming into a rock, and fell right onto his face. “Ow.”

      One of the Privates directed their steed over near him, and looked down, “Are you sure you're okay, ma'am?” He sounded both annoyed, worried, and amused.

      Red pulled his face out of the dirt, spitting. He gagged at the black ooze that came out. “No, I ain't. Why don't y'all keep going ahead, and I'll just head back to the Hold. I'll file the report and all that.” Standing he grumbled as he shook his hair out of his eyes again. Pointing at the Private who had gone to check on him, he muttered “You're in charge for the rest of this.”

      With that said, he turned, deciding to ignore whatever else they might have to say. Maybe they would just assume he was going off to fume or something. He wandered through the ruins of the Plaguelands until he found some old abandoned shell of a house, where he sat down and rest back against the wood.

      Staring up at the sky, he silently cursed to himself. Beck could deal with what had just happened, probably. Right? Light only knew what she had been up to. He allowed himself to sigh in relief when he could feel his head growing fuzzy again, as it had earlier, before he found himself staring at his office ceiling instead of the sky.

      Redamous blinked, glancing around. He sniffed, and frowned as his eyes found Nicole staring at him with a smirk. He raised one clawed finger, “One question.” She nodded slowly, trying to not burst out laughing. “Why in the holy hell do I smell like bloody soap.” Nicole simply shook her head and lost it.

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