Amelia Wil Tesla Saillune (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fistsofjustice) wrote2016-06-27 12:10 am
fistsofjustice) wrote2016-06-27 12:10 am
@makehistoria
Ever since she was old enough to feed herself, Amelia only went after humans who deserved it. They are pitiful creatures, her father said, and that is why you must always be righteous. Killing innocent humans was frowned upon like humans frowned upon kicking small, helpless animals; there was no justice in that.
Hunters were a favored target, as were priests who spoke ill of the Fog God. She wouldn’t usually interfere in human-on-human conflict, unless the crime was especially heinous - sometimes one had to put down a rabid sheep.
Such was her recent prey. A Bavan native, notorious for taking any job, no matter how gruesome. Amelia swooped down on him and carried him all the way back to her nest beyond Lager Woods, on the cliffs by the north-western shore. She put him on a rock ledge where no human could reach without special equipment, plucked his eyes out and left him there to starve, though she gave him water once a day. Amelia always made sure they regretted their crimes before taking their lives.
It’s been a week now, and he wasn’t screaming as much. If he doesn’t throw himself on the rocks soon (like some did. Others would beg her for release) she’ll have to do it herself.
Hunters were a favored target, as were priests who spoke ill of the Fog God. She wouldn’t usually interfere in human-on-human conflict, unless the crime was especially heinous - sometimes one had to put down a rabid sheep.
Such was her recent prey. A Bavan native, notorious for taking any job, no matter how gruesome. Amelia swooped down on him and carried him all the way back to her nest beyond Lager Woods, on the cliffs by the north-western shore. She put him on a rock ledge where no human could reach without special equipment, plucked his eyes out and left him there to starve, though she gave him water once a day. Amelia always made sure they regretted their crimes before taking their lives.
It’s been a week now, and he wasn’t screaming as much. If he doesn’t throw himself on the rocks soon (like some did. Others would beg her for release) she’ll have to do it herself.
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"Go – " She manages to order the human before Stocke leaps at her (though the woman is already starting to run before Amelia speaks, which is just rude if you ask her). She takes off with the explosive sound of magic and compressed air, aiming for the sky where she has advantage, but the shade collides into her before she can gain altitude.
Amelia shrieks in pain and anger when the shadow claws rip into her. Still airborne, she flaps her wings wildly, determined to keep ascending, angry shade or not. He may be stubborn, but so is she. Her hand still grips the flashlight tightly, Amelia uses her legs to swipe at him. If he's solid enough to hurt her, hopefully she can return the favor.
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One of the arms gets high enough to reach Amelia's hand, holding the flashlight; it shifts a jagged mouth on the end and chomps, trying to clamp down on the harpy's wrist. Stocke hasn't bothered shifting extra arms on the end, though - that makes things far too complicated - and he's aiming half-blind. The magic-tossed wind snaps in his face.
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"Get off, don't touch me!"
Whirlwinds lashes out at Stocke, cold and merciless. Amelia dives and soars, flies around in quick circles and unstable zigzags, all in an attempt to shake him off. But it's hard to maneuver between buildings in the dark with him clawing at her – with Stocke attached or without him, she ends up crash landing on a roof.
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He doesn't make a noise even when Amelia scores across his eyes, though the immediate reaction is a flinch. What's not clawed across snaps shut; the shade grits the teeth holding Amelia's arm in retaliation.
Then they slam into the roof and his grip finally loosens. Stocke dissolves into shadows and rolls away, righting himself. The winds blow him further as he tries to reform - he ends up crouching on the roof, claws on hands and feet digging into the tile.
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The smartest thing is to take off to find her human while he's still recovering. She'll fly her somewhere safe to complete their deal and Stocke will never find her before morning. Even if he comes to her nest again, Amelia will have ample time to prepare. She just has to fly away.
But much like shades, harpies are known for their stubbornness and for their almost compulsive need to have the last word. Not just be right, but have others acknowledge their rightness, rub their victory in. Crouched on the ledge with her good hand around the backup flashlight, ready for takeoff, Amelia snaps:
"Lash out all you want, that deal is still mine. You lost."
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He's... genuinely trying to kill the harpy now, isn't he?
The shade's getting nowhere staying solid, with the harpy's magic beating at him. He melts away more deliberately this time, springing forward as soon as the wind's whistling through him instead of against. Aiming for Amelia's soul.
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After a moment he ducks around the flashlight's beam, springing off the edge to hover after the harpy from another direction - but he can't go any higher, can only lose ground. As long as Amelia's quick to circle up she'll be out of reach.