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Flynn the Volitale

Born into a twisted bloodline but raised by boundless inquisitives she searches for artifacts from beyond her world to someday constrain the presence sustaining her clutch mother.

0 · 1,619 views · located in Raptor Bar and Grill

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by lil_kreen

Inventory

Cold! Crisp! Low Calorie! CryoLite!
Cold! Crisp! Low Calorie! CryoLite!
Cold! Crisp! Low Calorie! CryoLite!
Tenderloin of a boar, seared and seasoned with honey and thyme.
Intricately engraved with Xamoyan flora, this silver coated pocket knife has a fine-edged partially serrated steel blade. It has a safety lock and press release. Small but sharp with slight magical properties.
Tasty snack, not very filling
Tasty snack, not very filling

Description

Name: Flynn the Volatile
Alias(es): The willful daughter
Age: 19 (due to extensive time in Losthome, temporal age of 42)
Height: 5'4
Eyes: Black, with cobalt iris veins
Gender: Female
Race or Species: Red Lady's Children
Subspecies: With the Storm High
Build: Gaunt
Theme Song: Bobaflex - I'm glad you're dead

Family
  • Mother - Nyx 'The Yellow', a reincarnating leucistic genus-level demigod. Murdered twice by Flynn.
  • Didi the Bent - A house matron and long-time wife of Flynn. Didi was more accepting than the Militant faction and loves Flynn's children to bits.
  • Living Children - Two whelps with human traits, triplet adult militant faction 'Joss, Snig, Woodie', Canine with Red lady's Children traits 'Speck'
  • Dead Children - 4 eaten due to field births while stranded, One militant faction 'Tybalt', Unnamed whelp with draconic traits killed by her mother after stealing the egg host, several whelps from lost souls miscarried during egg host phase
  • Father - Unknown, presumed to be a Twitch by the militant faction Far and Deep as the Yellow was from different species then.
  • Siblings - None living from her generation. Father presumed dead. Only living descendant of the yellow not killed once coming of age.

Abilities
Omnifecund - Flynn can breed with anything resembling intelligent agency whether a living sapient or a manifested spirit and a strong generalist libido to match. A 'gift' by her mother after she successfully resisted her mother's power over the genus when willing Flynn to die. Some of Flynn's egg hosts were stolen by the Yellow for reasons unknown and Flynn isn't sure if she has more children.

Reacher - A combination of tinker and scavenger the Reachers are ones that explore their dream-plane of Losthome to locate and retrieve resources they can use in the waking world. Able to divine the fullest details of pseudomatter used for illusions they can make real the ephemeral with a sufficiently detailed understanding of what it does. Veteran Reachers have been known to defeat illusory pit traps of obvious material simply by being unaware the floor was unreal. Reconstructing the floor by sheer proximal strength. The less they understand of an object the less likely making an object from Losthome or other ephemeral objects is to succeed. Alternately a crude interior of the object would present of poorly understood objects if the interior works at all. This consumes a great deal of energy from them however and reachers are usually gaunt by way of having to eat and drink enough through long sojourns in Losthome that they do not starve to death before they suffocate. Though there are many ways out of Losthome not all of them lead home...

Bloodwrit - A caster of sorts Flynn learned cantrips well enough as a whelp but complex spells required a great deal of concentration and practice for her to adopt them. Blood Sorcerers later discovered they cloud scribe her astral circle with spells to use though they degraded on her use of them. However only if she did not understand the spells natively as hard as that may be. The detail leaves her unable to scribe the patterns in a way that she can share them meaningfully. What few native spells she knows operate with a terrifying efficiency of power consuming far less than than the comparatively bloated ones inscribed upon her even to other blood sorcerers. She earned her first native spell as a whelp with due cause to her surname. Fireball. Her second was a spell to shift through the planes with others to Losthome like many other Reachers do though the next were Tongues and Change Self. However her native spells have different means and restrictions than the patterns from which they were created. Many with very energetic effluence such as a layer of meaty flesh discarded after altering her shape and the food requirement thereof.

Personal History
Flynn is a creature with a bit of a reputation since near birth due to the malevolent spirit populating the eggs of her kind. The yellow's children are often preternaturally strong and Flynn was hardly an exception. As a whelp she invaded the various sanctums of the reachers just to look at the odd things they brought back. Her education followed from them and several dozen explosions later she'd earned her surname and a dedicated training program to keep her from destroying any more architecture. She took well to the training eclectic as it was and fit her wild blood until training revealed magical abilities of a bloodwrit. Soon an asset of the Militant faction holding back the tainted blood threatening their kind she ended up meeting Didi a feasthall matron. When the Yellow came for her the fight that ensued leveled a nearby market, mostly Flynn's fault, but Flynn came back with the Yellow's head. Having proof of her strength Didi made Flynn her mate to produce several fine children over the long years of Flynn's service. The militant faction helped the next time the yellow came for her young hybrid fathered in Losthome. Her triplets grew up to become one of the thirteen cards of the Far and Deep pinning the Yellow down and Flynn again took her head. The next incarnation of Nyx, a child, then stole one of Flynn's eggs which saw Flynn hunt her mother down again. Later tracking her into uncharted territory of Losthome the battle continued once more but lost her in the depths of that place. Truly far away Flynn was low on food and had to leave Losthome before she ran out entirely and began to starve to death. Taking a chance on what she thought was the Underworks she now finds herself off-plane with Grandfather Teeth, Nyx's patron entity, trundling somewhere looking for its lost cog.

So begins...

Flynn the Volitale's Story

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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The package of cigarettes doesn't make it into the container. At the rim the package clatters bouncing upward into the maw of a few inch wide segmented worm. The package stopped only after bulging quadrant vanes on the end distended around it. At the worm's midpoint both the matte-black worm and package stalled. Rather than reaching out of the container the hollow foot-long creature drifted forward. Not as much as it flew but that it fails to fall. The front end points at Ariel as bumps on the four vanes emerge and retract. A white line fires along its center when the creature sees her.

It reverses course along the line. Save for clacking vanes it goes without noise toward someone in plain sight of an alley. Hidden but covered in a loose dirty shawl out of some disused trash pile. A clawed feathered hand appears out from underneath palm up. a fluted tittering language is travels well on the wind while talking to the worm for a moment. The worm pulls its hovering body away from the bulge rather than spit out a captured treasure into her palm.

The figure takes a cigarette and eats it without hesitation. A gag spits the chewed mess out on the ground with angry notes. More musical speech later the worm gets a cigarette to eat instead.

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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Ariel almost didn't notice the strange worm that had devoured the cigarette pack. It was only until she heard strange chittering from within an alleyway that she turned and squinted down it. A strange figure appeared to be communicating with a small worm-like creature. Looking closer, she realized that the figure was obviously not humanoid. She watched as it attempted to eat one of the faulty cigs. She shrugged, but chuckled as it spat it out just as she had. "If you were planning on stealing those, you can have them. Although I assume you reached the same conclusion I did, being that they taste like dirt. I can't imagine what eating a cigarette must taste like, though." She had no idea whether or not the creature understood her, but she still attempted to converse with it. "I have some better ones, if you want. Although I'd recommend smoking them instead of eating them." Her hand hovered over the opening of her bag, waiting to see if the creature would emit any sort of response to her question.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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Flynn turned from the worm to eye Ariel with two blue-shined orbs. Immediately the figure cringed at daylight hiding it behind one black-feathered hand. The shine split in the middle vanishing the cringe with it. The head tilts and the figure pulls the hood away. A matte-black feathered head reveals a bouncing crest of neon blue feathers. Fixed on Ariel are black holes of eyes in the saurian's head where there's a bare wetness of eyeballs.

In a hard accent of musical chords she answers in rapid fashion, ♫Bad speaking common. Tell Thane find food. All food in Losthome empty taste. You are not ... *Rrt*.. powerofbody person! A moment.♫
Flynn puts two fingers up bobbing her head then puts them to her mouth. Eddies of dust kick up toward the source of speech creeping through the air. A faint breeze whips past as vaporous grey flame lights up the inside of her mouth.

Somehow there's a distant fluted noise behind a voice shaped into a female's voice. The accent changes as she speaks growing closer to the locals,"I understand now. I am Flynn the Volatile. I get artifacts from Losthome not real people! But even if this was food I'm not paying for smoke dirt! Thane can eat your rotten dirt. It eats anything once live."

She looks around the street, "Underworks do not always work right anymore. I am lost here for now. Do you know of work for meat? I am a reacher. I find things. There is little safe food in Losthome."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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Surprised that the creature actually responded, she slowly put the pack of smokes away. It appeared to be female, and a very beautiful one at that. Ariel cocked her head in slight amusement at the choppiness of the creature's language, and once more reached into her bag, pulling out a rather large piece of meat wrapped in cheese cloth. Using her mouth to unwrap it, she then balanced it on her knee, using her stub to brace it while tearing a piece off with her free hand. "I assume this is what you are looking for, food wise I mean." Ariel somehow couldn't stop looking at the creature's eyes, and they reminded her of something she couldn't quite place. She slowly reached out her hand, holding the meat in her palm. Although Flynn was definitely capable, she didn't seem like she would cause any harm, but she was unsure of the worm. Ariel's ears twitched and flicked with curiosity as she looked at Flynn once more. Something about her was so familiar, but she couldn't figure out for the life of her what it was. She sat in a crouched position, waiting to see it Flynn would accept her offering.

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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She looks around the street for anyone noticing her and is satisfied if no one runs this way at least. She drops the shawl and lowers her head for the bouncing gait over. The worm in tow seems to drift along some projected white line rather than fly. Flynn's body bounces as the head stays quite still relative to the ground. Her excitement at some real food bounces her from the neck down as the head stays quite still. At close range the cobalt-mouthed Flynn and her black teeth grin in glee.

The clear of her eyes is obvious so close to her person. The surface of it is thin in its wetness behind it a blue tube with shiny divot lining at its front. Blackness vanishes the rear of the blue eye channel somewhere deeper inside of her head. The living were an unknown to the etheric soothe but Flynn's touch leaves that familiar scent. For a moment like some viscous cloud of it flows from Flynn past one's ankles. The will of the living made them quite less permeable.

Flynn reaches out and takes the meat and takes bites out of it. Her head fixates on Ariel to speak to her between bites.

The black iris now thin rim never pivots as she muches, "Thank you for the food. *Nrrf* I can repay you in service! *Mrrgh* What do you do?"

The worm goes much slower than the saurid and arrives to smash into Flynn's back. She pays it no mind but the grease spots on her feathers from the disused tarp are vanishing. A riot of black dust gusts from underneath stains consumes them wholly. In the wake of the Thane's activity her soft down is well preened.

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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Warily glancing around the alleyway, Ariel re-wrapped the meat, placing it into her bag with some difficulty after twice dropping on the ground. She scooted herself over so that she could lean against the building and sit on the ground. Plucking a thread from her pants, she examined how the worm seemed to burrow into Flynn's feathers.

"You say you collect artifacts from a place called Losthome, was it? Interesting. I have never heard of such a place. I'm a bit of a collector myself, so to speak. Although I collect bounties, not artifacts, I still think you could be of some help to me. I'm tracking down a man by the name of Bailey: Benson Bailey. He's wanted for various thefts and also, illegal slave trafficking, if you know what that is. While I doubt you can tell me of his whereabouts, I think you might be useful in pinning his next target. And I can guarantee a hefty share of the bounty, which you could use to purchase...whatever those artifact things are if you help me."

She hoped that Flynn wouldn't be overwhelmed with this information, as Ariel was not sure of her language comprehension skills. She seemed eager enough, and it would be nice to have a companion while she traveled, but if Flynn was not interested, then Ariel would understand, and leave her be. In spite of herself, Ariel couldn't shake her interest from this astonishingly intelligent creature. Flynn was definitely advanced in the ways of cognition. While some primitive part of her was unsettled by the obsidian black teeth that Flynn possessed, there was still a lingering familiarity that banished any doubts of Ariel's safety around her.

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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Flynn follows Ariel then sits on her haunches feather fan at the end of her tail spread wide. Settled in large part she just shifts the belt strap of her thin green backpack for comfort. A glass bottle clinks inside to which Flynn turns an ear tuft toward.

Flynn extracts a corked angular bottle of green fluid from her backpack. It's still quite full and Flynn offers it to Ariel while chattering, "Good! Not people but finding things is what I do, yes. I will be your Reacher and you will be my Far and Deep! We used to think Losthome was a place to dream until some of us went there. It turned out there's not just artifacts in Losthome! I described a bottle of drink for my Thane but I got that medicine-tasting sweetwater! I can't get dumbstruck in Losthome! It took me most of a day to make this stable too! I figured out a whispering device also but all the listed numbers go to screaming figments. Maybe I need to find a codex..."

Shrugging off the segue Flynn blinks to find her original point. Thus refocused she gesticulates off-hand writing, "Anyway. I can use Thane's oculus to find things of power. At least if I know enough to draw and write them. It must be exact enough to find a particular thing or I get similar ones. Thane's oculus should work here too."

She scratches between the feathers on her chin and continues rapid rambling, "Slavers though. They must have unique things in their belongings. The keepers brought all our males into custodial care in the distant past. History books say some of the the old matrons got good at hiding their imprisoned males. Marked cages. Named collars. Fancy keys with numbers on them. Their pride in their work brought Reachers then armed Far and Deep to their door."

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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Deep in thought at Flynn's words, Ariel absent-mindedly took the bottle from her feathery, clawed hand. She examined the contents of the bottle, swirling it around thoughtfully before stashing it in her rucksack. "Whatever this 'medicine-tasting sweetwater' is, I'm sure it will do some good for me at some point. Thank you, Flynn." Ariel instinctively reached out to pet her head, but hastily drew her arm back as she wasn't sure if Flynn would take it as disrespectful. Biting her lip, she awkwardly let her hand drop to her side, debating whether or not Flynn was more animal or hominid.
After a few minutes of unsettling silence, Ariel decided to ask about Thane's oculus. She had heard of similar things, such as the oculus of Arkvæs, but never anything else of that sort. "Exactly how much information do you need to make Thane's oculus work? I can give you the brief stats that the law enforcement has on Bailey, but that's about it. I...doubt I can really communicate with Thane since I am no worm expert, so I will leave that part to you."
Without further communication on her part, Ariel began to shuffle through the odds and ends that were held in her sack until she produced a black folder. Gripping it between her knee and her stub, she began to shuffle through it.

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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When Ariel took the bottle of sweetwater Flynn reached back with her main hand to the backpack. Nails poke for a small inset side pocket its seam quite thin. As Flynn's claw got traction the surface turned spine of a book.

Ariel reached out to Flynn's head as the saurid's absent gaze drifted left in focus. The momentary pegged crest and halt showed she'd quite noticed movement. Flynn's amused trill came afterward, "*RrRrRrt!* Ah! Featherless figments that look like you like to rub my head too! I'm the only warm thing they can touch!"

Flynn laid down with her head near Ariel's feet while Flynn removed the book to flip through pale lime pages. Packed dense with blue-lined content of indecipherable foreign shorthand that surrounds many interspersed images. Some are more recognizable ritualistic drawings for an adept. Others ape passages in other languages. At least an artist's depiction of some visual space is clear while Flynn flips through the middle. Flynn busies herself looking for a description of drink in the quiet while mumbling. The scattered thoughts of Flynn's hyperactive mind never left her quiet for long.

When Ariel asks Flynn a question Flynn stays still while speaking. The crest furls lax and flat from concentration. Long thick quills under the feathers on her arms twitch in their helical path around.

"My Thane has a good range but not too far. Maybe a quarter of a tenth Gan? Wait. No Gan here. No ceiling! Well It's two gan between rests on loaded marches for the Far and Deep. I need to show the place and thing that should be there in words. Thane often reads something similar if I am wrong. Thane speaks common if I speak common. We connect by the implant but it does not see. It reads stories of the nature of things. Words for eyes. It is more difficult to find things if I don't know about them."

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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After searching for about five minutes, Ariel pulled a paper from the jumbled mess and clutched it between her teeth. The portfolio fell out of her unsteady grip and spilled its contents all about her feet. With the paper still held in her mouth, she sighed and picked up the scattered documents and hastily stuffed them back into the black file, all the while shaking her head. She sat for a moment, forgetting the paper still held between her gritted teeth. With a look of realization and slight embarrassment, she sat up and grabbed the paper from her mouth, wiping the crinkly, wet edge of it on her shirt. "Sorry. It's easy to forget a thing like that when your mouth is like your other hand." After smoothing it out as best she could, she began to read the single-page file on Benson Bailey.

Subject: Bailey, Benson

Sex: M

Location: unknown

Appearance: Young-middled aged caucasian male, 6'1, Dark hair/eyes, no apparent disabilities

Age: mid-twenties, DOB remains unknown

Last seen: Wing City Spaceport, February

Previous infractions: drug/narcotic possession (methamphetamine, heroin, various opiates), second degree murder and manslaughter.
This excludes any unresolved or pending cases, court or otherwise.

This information is extremely confidential and should be treated as such. Any and all unauthorized use of this material will result in Police intervention and/or prosecution. Property of the Wing City Police Department

[FILE SERIAL NUMBER:884276]

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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(was working on most of Flynn's character sheet, sorry for delay. :) )
Flynn dozes off while Ariel searches through her pack. A patter of talons begins to run up and down the alley though there's nothing seen. Except as the papers drop for a ripple in nearby puddle reflecting a leg of loud colors on the other side. The noise vanishes as Flynn's wakefulness shoots up her crest.

"RrRrt? You have papers?", She asks while sitting up to her haunches.

She nods at Alice's comment to listen while Alice reads the papers. Too bright to read and see anything but a yellow square anyway. After a moment of scratching her chin, "Chemicals for spiker wannabes leave too many for my Thane to see. Do they label their bags? If Benson writes his name on things I could have Thane look for it. We must have a sample of his written name or a good forgery. Or do your murderers keep trophies? Thane sees parts of that what was once a story just fine."

Flynn leans looking at Alice's other arm to see the wound. She then leans into Alice's shoulder to comfort, "Far and Deep you still do well without it. Gansteel artificials take tools, time, and food. I have no tools for it. Can you have it regrown someday? Our Sear have not had success with the rituals that belong to human figments we found in Losthome. We burn."

Thane parts feathers around a metal port in Flynn's neck so it can crawl up aside her head to watch. The foot long worm's four eye-bumps bob atop each vane of the small black sea. A translucent question mark appears above its head in blue. Close up one can detect a faint smell of menthol as ash drifts out from the top end.

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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"Actually, Some of his victims are found to have his name branded into their flesh, usually into their left or right shoulder. Most often the police have found incidents where it says 'property of BB', but sometimes he inscribes his full name. From the appearance of the scars, they say he usually uses heat and harsh chemical compounds to do this. Brutal stuff. I think I might actually have a picture somewhere, but I don't think I have it with me. You are lucky I even have this info; the WCPD likes to keep things to themselves."

Ariel felt reassured when Flynn whispered into her ear. She smiled at the kindhearted comments she offered her. "I'm afraid it won't grow back. Most people can't do that, unfortunately. But I'm glad you noticed. Some people avoid the topic of 'disability' and 'special needs' like the plague, as if I will hurt them or something. I'm not sure what the big deal about fearing difference is, but I'm glad you don't have it."
Ariel cracked the knuckles of her hand on the cement, staring thoughtfully at the brick wall across from her. In truth, she was glad to have found a friend that didn't try to take advantage of her, even if that friend was nothing close to humanoid. While Flynn was hard to understand at times, she provided a bit of positive energy that Ariel hadn't felt in a while. With a warm smile, she stroked her hand along Flynn's back, appreciating her interest in the search for Benson Bailey.

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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Feathers of the saurid are silken on the fingers as fine barbules link like spider webs. Flynn herself seems lukewarm against the air not quite as warm to the touch as Ariel would be. Though there's a feeling of passing through a cold silt dune on the way down Flynn's upper back.

In tail of Ariel's hand a vaned head pops above feather-line. The eye bumps burble to look for fingernails of the hand it just cleaned. Thane wasn't in the habit of biting living appendages but cleaning them quite so. The second piece of worm sports its own question mark before vanishing under feathers.

Flynn's third eye blinks slow as she ponders Alice's explanation. Flynn makes poking motions with an figurative poker, "A brand perhaps? That should be unique. Or a stencil."

She taps the blue metal ports in her neck, "I don't judge the Far and Deep for making their wounds work. Gansteel is expensive to make for replacements. If the rituals could make arms grow back instead of set us on fire things would be easier!"

Hands joined around her neck she adds with a popped crest, "If they judge for missing parts maybe I need a leash! My whole human is missing. No poking the Red Lady's Child she'll gnaw off a piece! "

Flynn's third eyelid shows slightly as she folds her left arm and waggles the elbow.

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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Ariel paused with uncertainty at Flynn's comment, unsure of her own safety for a moment, but chuckled and made a pretend growling face, complete with a falsetto growl. "I guess you could say the same for me, Flynn. Although this time, I am the Red Lady." She shook her head, letting her crimson locks fall in her face. After a couple moments of unsettling silence, she smoothed it back again, laughing. Ariel propped herself up on her elbow, using her legs to help herself up. Brushing the dirt off her pants, she stretched her shoulders, adjusting her sack so that it hung behind her. The sun was beginning to set, a beautiful sight in the smoggy skies of Wing City. "We'd best find a place to sleep. I think there are some motels a little ways down, If that's your sort of thing. To tell the truth, I can sleep anywhere as long as I have a roof over my head and a place to put my stuff. Kid you not, I once slept quite comfortably in the rafters of a barn, although I can't say I was as comfortable in the morning."

With a sigh, Ariel watch the sun recede over the horizon of buildings, with admiring the slowly changing colors of the sky. One of the Planet's moons was soon to rise and the other would follow shortly after, depending on the sky's clarity. Squinting, she stared down the long road, noticing the peculiar absence of any pedestrians or vehicles. "We can talk more about Benny in the morning. I'm tired. how about we head to that Inn down there? See it, the one with the flashing sign?" Ariel slowly began walking sideways, kicking pebbles on the freshly paved road, waiting for Flynn to join her.

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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Flynn's laugh trills, "*ReeReeRee* Scary! I want to see you eat fish with those flat teeth!"

Flynn stands to her feet as her third eyelid pulls across. It shortly retracts across black slit irises that are visible again. Flynn looks around, "Oh you have red hair! I wondered what color you were! It's been too bright to see colors outdoors but I don't like sleeping there I get too cold."

Flynn follows Ariel to the street while looking around her. Shadows didn't hide much from Flynn now that daylight wasn't an all-consuming brightness. Temperature dropping with sunset didn't agree with her saurid constitution despite the feathery coating.

Flynn eyes the blinking light, "You slept in an empty building attic? If we must sleep on hard wood the warmest ones go on the bottom of the sleeping pile, flame head!"

Flynn sees Ariel's scanning gaze and follows it around the empty streets as they move. Chattering while she presses one side close to the elf Flynn's feathers flatten close. She bobs her head at the alleys, "Is this place safe in the dark? Perhaps we should get to safety soon. Dark skies hide the cold of hungry shadows."

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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"Flame Head? Flat teeth? I have been called by most every insult in the book but those are new new ones!" Ariel shook her head with amusement. "I wouldn't get too cocky, Featherbrain. I wouldn't mind having a saurid-pillow you know." Chuckling, she continued down the darkened road, wary of the shadows that became increasingly large. Although the streets of this part of Wing City were usually safe, she still glanced down alleyways with paranoia, slightly unnerved at the emptiness of Main Street.

The flashing neon sign blinked in the distance, and seemed a lot farther away than it actually was. Just in case, Ariel reached into her sack and clipped her utility attachment, (which she often used for weapons) to her stub. "I doubt that anyone will harm us, Flynn, but just in case I have some defense." Ariel tapped the crossbow attachment in her bag and again swept her eyes about the scenery. Her ears flicked with focus as she tentatively listened for footsteps. Aside from Flynn's chattering, there was a complete silence that made the city seem dead. Swallowing nervously, she continued down the path. One may have been able to call the erie quiet an actual entity, for it seemed that it pressed against her ears with loud, powerful silence. To ease her nervousness, she began to whistle.

Ariel didn't pay much attention to the actual tune she was singing, but rather the comfort the presence of noise brought. It was only until she began to recognize the tune that she stopped. It was so familiar, and she had heard it somewhere before. Again, she whistled the same musical phrase, and it echoed through the expanse of buildings. "Does that sound familiar to you?" She whistled it again, furrowing her brow in thought. "I swear I have heard that tune before, but I can't think for the life of me what it is..."

It was then she recognized it. It was part of the Anthem sung by Aschen warriors, which she once spent quite a lot of time with during her service in the Aschen Military. Nodding with a look of satisfaction she continued to whistle it, making sure to give it a cheerier feel than it was intended to have.

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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Flynn pulls at her lip showing the two rows of conical black teeth in her bright blue mouth, "Flat teeth. We assume it's for the plants you eat. The blueblooded orders don't have any with fire-colored feathers. Don't act surprised if the pillow plays with your hair!"

The snap of weaponry calls Flynn's eyes on Ariel. She snaps her fingers on the left at the worm on her head and a blue exclamation point appears above it. It retracts as rummaged lines of travel flow under her feathers toward her left hand. As they arrive small feathers on the back of Flynn's hand waver slow as if moved from below.

Flynn starts drawing a pattern in midair on the back of her hand while walking along beside Ariel. She listens to the whistling and looks over to tilt her head at Ariel's song. Flynn's tensed crest flutters in the scant wind weighing hardly anything at all.

Flynn's thinking noise is more of a pitched hum before she answers,"*Vreeeee*. I'm not familiar with your music. Figments hardly think they cannot sing. Our voices sound different than yours anyway."

The even tones of a syrinx make the tune more musical even if Flynn is a little tone deaf. Her version has a few more lateral notes that make the imitation easier to pronounce as Flynn tries to follow it.

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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"Here we are." The hotel seemed vacant aside from the flickering neon signs and dimly lit lobby. The door opened easily, and a bell trilled as they entered. Almost instantly, a stout man shuffled to the clerk's desk, pushing his spectacles up onto his nose and sitting himself on a barstool. "Welcome to Vincent's Cafe and Motel. What can I do for ya?" It didn't take long to realize that this facility was obviously unkempt, and the fact that it was even still running was surprising. It would, however, suffice as the pay would be cheap enough to give them a few nights without too much trouble. "One room, please. Ah, two nights for now." The man outstretched a pudgy hand, with an unreadable expression. Ariel awkwardly reached her hand out for a handshake, only to have him rudely shove it away. "I was askin' for yer pay, lady. Six coppers!" With a disgruntled groan, she reached into her back pocket, pulling out the required fee. The man quickly pocketed it, but as they were about to leave he pulled Ariel's arm. "If you want pets here, its extra cost." She couldn't help but snicker. "Flynn's no pet, sir. Trust me, I would know."
"I don't care if that there's the dictator of Arkende, It needs a leash to be permitted on these grounds and you'll need three more coppers to keep it here."
Ariel was tired and wasn't in the mood for any of this. In one quick movement she loaded her crossbow and attached it to her stub, aiming it directly between the eyes of the clerk. "When I said Flynn wasn't my pet, I meant it. Now can we please have our room?"
The man smiled, revealing few teeth and bright pink gums. "Number thirty-four in the left hallway miss."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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Flynn's head is down to bob at alleys her tail balancing her head parallel to the ground. She nods at Alice though a puffing noise comes from her snout. Smoke comes from her nostrils as she snakes in the doorway behind Ariel. Flynn fixes her eyes on the fat male to pour a deep grey cloud of a sigh from her expended spell. She'd give the greedy male a piece of her mind but it would just be squeaky whistling to him now.
Flynn rumbles when the male calls her a pet but titters at Ariel's response. *ReeReeReeRee* The Far and Deep sure knew what she was doing!

Flynn puts two fingers of her left hand to her mouth and with a soft whisper of runes they glow. Flynn whispers through them with her hard note-accent but it sounds as if next to Ariel's ear. Flynn enunciates as best she can to Ariel, ♪Borrowed tongue ran down. We keep low dog male? Or sleep now?♪

Feeling impish Flynn takes a moment to remember the right words. Pet sounds... she couldn't recall. Instead Flynn jeers in common with note-edged singsong, ♫Dog noise, fat male! Dog Noise!♫

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Ariel Dawkins
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After standing in a still position for a few seconds, weapon still fixed toward's the man's face, Ariel finally lowered her crossbow and smirked at his willingness. She looked at the small tattered map for directions to her room. "22....31..33..." The hallway ended just before any room with the number thirty four. "I don't see the location of our room, sir." Ariel traced her finger along the map's legend, fixing her eyes on the man, waiting for a response.
"Oh, that's right. We don't have any rooms that tolerate your kind. What a shame. We do, however, have a wood cellar, which will suit you quite nicely, I think. That is, unless you plan on paying for your...animal companion. " He glanced at Flynn with a rather snide look on his face, clucking at her with mock-concern.
Ariel's face went almost as red as her hair. She almost gave the man a black eye before hearing Flynn's soft tittering in her ear.
Ariel had hardly any idea about what Flynn was talking about, but it sounded like she wanted to turn the man's voice into that of a dog, so as to punish him. She wasn't sure, but couldn't wait to see. "Why not?" she whispered in Flynn's direction. The man apparently had only heard Ariel, not Flynn, and assumed she was talking to him. "So you will take the woodshed then? Well I suppose if you are that desperate..."
"I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to my pet!" Ariel snapped, adding a teasing emphasis on the word "pet". With a flustered snort, the man, who was more than likely Vincent, the owner of the motel, shook his head with disgust. "You think it will understand you, ah?" "I'm her, uh, Far and Deep. Of course she understands me." Ariel hoped that she used that term in the correct context. She actually had no idea what it meant, but it seemed like a sound reason.
Ariel was on the verge of extreme frustration, and looked to Flynn with an exasperated look. Now would be the perfect time to do whatever she was planning on doing.