Lola Goodman's Story

Lola was meditating to try and find out more of her past lives, and so far, got nowhere. Maybe she needed to ask her master for help... No, he would be too busy with his work. Her master worked as a doctor and used magic constantly, so when he wasn't working, he was resting.

Lola sighed contently, when BAM! She heard some one ranting far below her. She looked down, and saw some pointy-eared guy skipping away after ranting about stupid forests for a while. As she climbed down carefully and continued watching him, he seemed... Odd to say the least. Her years of knowledge told her this was a forest elf. And as Lola watched, she began to straighten her sweater.

Lola climbed up into another tree and continued her watching. Appearently this elf talked to animals. Interesting.... She decided to try and meditate again, but a bird suddenly pecked at her forehead and Lola yelled out, "EEEP!" She lost her balence on the treebranch, and started to fall to the ground. As soon as she hit the ground, she realized she was only about 6 feet up from the ground to begin with. "Ouch..." She groaned.

"Ugh..." She got up carefully and brushed off the dirt. "I'm fine. And even if I wasn't, I have a doctor for my father." She wiped off dirt from her face with her sleeve. "Sorry for following you, I thought you different from the usual creatures. I'm Lola. I would give you a handshake, but my hand's dirty now..." She smiled a little at him.

Arlathina Dalisia

I couldn’t believe that the ride from hell was over. I brushed a few stray, blonde hairs behind my ear and stood, walking from the interior of the escape pod. Before me, there stretched a forest, very similar to the ones on Isteria, but there was something different. The colors here were less saturated. On Isteria, the hues were so vivid that you could practically taste them, making this environment pale in comparison.

My pointed ears twitched at what sounded like speech, a short distance to the west. Given what had just happened to me, I was not sure whether or not I could trust anybody, but remaining alone was not an option. My assailants could be tracking the location of the escape pod right now. Frantically, I weighed my options.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩ

The earth delighted to feel my bare feet, or was it that my feet delighted to feel the bare earth? Either way, the crunch of leaves would have exposed my location to any enemies. This was intentional, of course. As I crashed through the troublesome branches and undergrowth, I began to moan and feign a sob. The halt of the aircraft had resulted in some minor abrasions, and I knew that I must play them off well. They were right ahead of me now, a group of—according to my best estimates—three people; two male and one female.

They spoke in a language that I could not understand, but this did not deter me from seeking their aid. One of the many special qualities of Isterians was their exceptional skills in the craft and understanding of language. After these beings spoke a few sentences to me, she would be able to analyze, deconstruct, and then reconstruct the language, thus learning to speak it—or at least be able to get my general message across.

They were very close to me now, and this was when the true actor began to shine. A tad bit overdramatically, although I honestly wasn’t that worried about it, I crashed through the last wave of foliage. Upon seeing the trio, I crashed to the ground in a limp pile, my body shook by fits of coughing. I was hoping that my performance would illicit the appropriate reaction.

C a s s i u s

Huh, Finland packs more muscle than she looks. I should probably walk like a normal person instead of letting myself be dragged by my familiar, but homework is her goal. Homework is the enemy. She is the enemy. But she is my friend. No. She is the enemy. I am conflicted. I sob. “Where are my shoessssssssssssssss?” I whine because that is the only option, to annoy so much she abandons me in favor of sanity.

Finland simply waves my lovely, old-as-fuck oxford loafers. I should purchase more shoes; only owning one pair of feet-protectors that are older than my father does not produce functional citizens. Hah, like I am a functional citizen. Finny, wonderful Finland carries all my stuff, drags me over gross dirt and probably massacres bugs with my poor body. “Ya know. One time, I saw a snake vomit a half-digested bird into the lake. I don’t know why I still swim there. There’s also those stupid nymphs, well one of them is really stupid and annoying and has freckles. I like his freckles. They’re cool. Freckles are cool. Why don’t I have freckles? Why don’t you have freckles? Why is everyone at the lake? I’m tired,” I ramble fluttering the arm that isn’t being dislocated from its shoulder spot.

“Cass.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

I follow her suggestion because I am an obedient friend. The ground kisses my legs with scraps and cuts; the air pollutes my ears with people talking then coughing. Who coughs anymore? That is so overrated. Trees. So many trees, trees are everywhere. I miss the lake. Dirt is replaces with dried leaves and rocks, sufficiently increasing the pain of the foliage grating against my princess-sensitive-soft-precious skin. Birds chirp pleasantly, squirrels did squirrelly things; it is all very pleasant and nature-like. I hate it.

One moment it was just Finland and I accompanied by people noises and nature white noises, then it was a bunch of people and Finland and I. Awkward. “Finland,” I hiss totally discreetly, “I forgot to wash the paintbrushes,” which is code for “we need to leave now there are people here and I don’t like people”.

Unfortunately, my darling Finny felt some motherly urge to help the person coughing and abandoned me, I quickly pick myself up paranoid insects would swarm my prone body. How could he do this to me? She pats the cough pile of person’s back, asking in her sweet tone, “Hello, do you need to go to the hospital?”

Rolling my eyes, I note besides coughing girl, lingering the area are pointy-ear guy, sassy gay satyr hipster, and creepy looking female. Lovely. Goddamnit. Leo is here to stalk the stupid nymph no doubt. I hope he loses interest in whatever this is. I hope Finland loses interest actually. Silently, I will him to flounce over to the lake, but, alas, my will is not powerful enough.

Lola sighed and sat down, not paying attention to the two males. Until a female came over, she paid no attention whatsoever until she came coughing up dust. Lola asked the person patting on the girl's back, "Shall I take her to my father? He is a doctor." She looked at the girl. "If that's fine by you."

Xavier entered the scene. Looking around, he immediately ran over to Lola, embracing her in a tight hug. "Lola! What are you doing here? Why didn't you leave a note when you left?"

"Woah, Dad! I DID leave a note, I left it on the fridge." Lola sighed at her overly protective father, forgetting the girl for a minute.

Arlathina Dalisia

Almost immediately, Arlathina felt a plethora of supporting hands, patting her back and stroking her arms. The physical contact would have made her feel uncomfortable, but she let it slide due to the circumstances. "Shall I take her to my father? He is a doctor," Said a female voice. It sounded faint, like a whisper, although Arlathina could hear everything she was saying. A thought occurred. Why is she referring to me in the third-person while speaking directly to me? After noting that the thought came to her in the tongue of this new planet, Arlathina pushed the question to the back of her mind, and opened her eyes slightly. She gave the girl an itinerant stare, sizing her up in case she became a problem later on.

The girl leaning over her had a jovial and good-natured face, almost childlike. In her deep brown eyes, Arlathina could see wisdom and kindness. After scanning for a few more moments, Arlathina sensed her naivety, also noting the distinct odor of magic around that the less magically attuned might have missed. Whatever this being was, her origins were not of flesh. The girl, being, or whatever you preferred to call it, turned her attention away from Arlathina for a moment to speak to an unknown person. She could sense the presence of another powerful magic being behind her, but couldn't break her façade to investigate.

Instead, she said miserably, "Please..."--Arlathina paused to let out a fit of coughing.--"help me."

Xavier went over to the girl. "What happened? You look pretty beat up." Looking her over, he said, "Y'know, the answer can wait. Let's get you to my office.. I'm Dr. Xavier Goodman, and this is my daughter, Lola." He began to help the elf up, and began to walk her to his office, Lola following close behind.

Arlathina Dalisia

Arlathina looked up to find a pair of blue eyes greeting her. "What happened? You look pretty beat up." Arlathina opened her mouth to answer, but the man standing over her interrupted. He revealed himself as Dr. Xavier Goodman, and the being radiating magical energy behind him was... Lola.

Arlathina liked that name, how easily it rolled off the tongue. She tested it out with her own mouth silently, her lips savoring the strange feeling that lingered. The man gathered her up off the ground, informing her that they were heading towards his office. Arlathina wasn't sure what an office was, but it sounded nice; better than lying on the damp forest ground. She didn't struggle as the man looped his arm around her waist. She let her limp head swivel back and forth on her shoulders, occasionally offering an incoherent mumble to the pair escorting her.

Events had moved so quickly that Arlathina didn't have the time to observe the other members of the group. In the corner of her eye, Arlathina could have sworn that she saw a goat/human hybrid of some sort, but then she let out a snort. What a silly thought. It mattered little now. They were all fleeting, like a distant dream. All Arlathina cared about was that the pair were taking her away from the escape pod. Away from her assailants, her history.

When Arlathina was very young, she was instilled with a strong sense of morality. One of the sins in her planet's ecopagan religion was duplicity, but she felt that she had little choice. Verolissa. That will be my name. And I have no memory of what happened to me before I came to this planet. The decision had been made.

Lola followed Xavier to the clinic he worked at. Xavier eventually arrived at the clinic and set the pointy-eared girl down in a room, putting her on the bed. "Looks like I'll need to call up the beekeeper. We're out of honey to make potions." He said as he turned to Lola. "Try to not dissapear on me again. Also, try to make this girl feel at home." Lola nodded and stayed in the room as Xavier walked to his office to make the call.

"Hi. Are you feeling any better?" Lola asked the girl on the bed, standing against the wall next to the bed.
-
Xavier called David and waited for an answer.

The varnished oak chair supported the solitary creature's form quite nicely, the cushions preventing his circulation, what there was, from being impeded. This same feeling of comfort could not be said to be shared by his mind. Tax forms, bank receipts, and inventory lists filled the top of the poor creature's desk like a flood and were boring him to no end. Each letter addressed to 'David LeFleur, Pacific Fields Apiary' was another dull piece of paper sent by people who seemed to take pleasure in making others miserable with boxes to fill in, lines to sign, spaces to leave blank, and formulas to follow.

Leaning back in the chair, teetering on the edge between falling forward or backward, David scanned his office for the umpteenth time to try and purge the phantom sight of black and white from his eyes. It went from the walls painted a baby blue to the shelves lined with curios and knick knacks to the grandfather clock sequestered to one corner with both digital and analog clocks surrounding it. The window let in the light of a bright sunny day, still in the bright light of a mid-day sun. A curse, being beautiful while David was to be held prisoner by bonds of ink and graphite.

The ringing phone brought a welcome distraction from the multitude of papers that David was filling out. He had finally glimpsed a rescue helicopter that would take him away from the flood. Surely he should not ignore possible business.

Not even bothering to get up from his desk, a slick tentacle darted towards the cordless phone and whipped it back into David's other hand. Punching the button to answer like a self-medicate button on a morphine drip, David put it up to his ear and tried to sound like he wasn't thrilled by the diversion from the current monotony.

“Pacific Fields; Bluffington, Minnesota. You have money, we have honey. What can I do for you today?”