On the Horizons, Danger Comes
Dec 11, 2020 19:25:03 GMT -5
Post by Tzimekh on Dec 11, 2020 19:25:03 GMT -5
« That's really bad. I wonder what it could be. »
"What, you don't know already?"
Tzimekh wasn't feeling any ill omens. She was feeling...frazzled, a little. Do you know what little dragons, and cats, and excitable gryphons want? They all want somewhere to live. Like, a permanent place to live. A home, you could say, if you were feeling inclined to make Tzi panic just a little bit. It's not that it was a problem to find somewhere to live. There were plenty of empty dwellings. It's just that, well, Tzimekh had no memory of how to home. She had no idea what you were actually supposed to do with one. Sleep there? She had plenty of nice, soft places to sleep, this place was practically a wonderland. Put things? She had no things, wasn't sure she cared enough to collect any.
But the...creatures? who had affixed themselves to her wanted a home.
So that's where Tzi was at, when the Red Star appeared overhead and Roryth's bright little brain turned roilingly unsure -- afraid, you could almost say. Almost.
« I don't like that thing. Why don't I like it, do you think? Could it be dangerous? »
"Mmm." Tzi hummed, flipping the pages of paper the "Real Estate Agent", whatever the hell that meant, had given her. "Maybe. Go with your gut, there, Roryth."
The distant mental fizz of Findar and Sylbae was vaguely similar to Roryth's Concern, but the little dragon was right here with her, peering warily at the sky, wings clamped tight around her sides. « Dunno. Let's go ask somebody what's going on. »
Tzimekh lowered the paper, squinting thoughtfully at the dragon. She wasn't a particularly needy creature, didn't have Sylbae's ken for abject chaos. This was how, twenty-odd minutes later, the dworc found herself poking her head into the healing tent, side-eyeing the dragonet curiously. "I don't know why I'm here." It seemed to be a theme: Ren wasn't so sure, neither was Tzi, but look. Here they were. Just because Tzimekh had an almost instinctual knowledge of healing herbs and such didn't mean...anything, alright. Probably. No, definitely.
"Oh, uh, hi. Again." She vaguely recognized the turian, and certainly Omorose, and maybe Geoff. Was Geoff there? The world may never know. Look, my mac n cheese and hotdogs is calling my name, and I super have to pee, it's really hard to focus. Or maybe it was just hard for Tzimekh to focus, with Roryth's, uh, concern. We'll go with that.
[Being Sung by a Choir, "Wonderland", and eee!]
"What, you don't know already?"
Tzimekh wasn't feeling any ill omens. She was feeling...frazzled, a little. Do you know what little dragons, and cats, and excitable gryphons want? They all want somewhere to live. Like, a permanent place to live. A home, you could say, if you were feeling inclined to make Tzi panic just a little bit. It's not that it was a problem to find somewhere to live. There were plenty of empty dwellings. It's just that, well, Tzimekh had no memory of how to home. She had no idea what you were actually supposed to do with one. Sleep there? She had plenty of nice, soft places to sleep, this place was practically a wonderland. Put things? She had no things, wasn't sure she cared enough to collect any.
But the...creatures? who had affixed themselves to her wanted a home.
So that's where Tzi was at, when the Red Star appeared overhead and Roryth's bright little brain turned roilingly unsure -- afraid, you could almost say. Almost.
« I don't like that thing. Why don't I like it, do you think? Could it be dangerous? »
"Mmm." Tzi hummed, flipping the pages of paper the "Real Estate Agent", whatever the hell that meant, had given her. "Maybe. Go with your gut, there, Roryth."
The distant mental fizz of Findar and Sylbae was vaguely similar to Roryth's Concern, but the little dragon was right here with her, peering warily at the sky, wings clamped tight around her sides. « Dunno. Let's go ask somebody what's going on. »
Tzimekh lowered the paper, squinting thoughtfully at the dragon. She wasn't a particularly needy creature, didn't have Sylbae's ken for abject chaos. This was how, twenty-odd minutes later, the dworc found herself poking her head into the healing tent, side-eyeing the dragonet curiously. "I don't know why I'm here." It seemed to be a theme: Ren wasn't so sure, neither was Tzi, but look. Here they were. Just because Tzimekh had an almost instinctual knowledge of healing herbs and such didn't mean...anything, alright. Probably. No, definitely.
"Oh, uh, hi. Again." She vaguely recognized the turian, and certainly Omorose, and maybe Geoff. Was Geoff there? The world may never know. Look, my mac n cheese and hotdogs is calling my name, and I super have to pee, it's really hard to focus. Or maybe it was just hard for Tzimekh to focus, with Roryth's, uh, concern. We'll go with that.
[Being Sung by a Choir, "Wonderland", and eee!]