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PostSubject: Writings of the Gooder   Writings of the Gooder EmptyThu Dec 03, 2009 3:12 am

Some random stories that may hit me with a brick. X3 And a good way to practice in composing 8D
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PostSubject: Re: Writings of the Gooder   Writings of the Gooder EmptyThu Dec 03, 2009 3:43 am

A short piece I promised to do after Mouse's prize pic) Features her cutest Sparrow, my Samedi and mentioning Jacko's Caliban and Nova's sweetest Vigor (can't help but make Sammy having a soft spot for him X3)


Samedi wasn't quite sure how this happened. She was on her way home from the Brakish Town quite contented with meeting one particularly fascinating Scarabin. One moment she was walking along her long-known path to the swamps. Next moment she was standing still, eyes darting around suspiciously.
Something was wrong.
Just didn't feel like always.
She remembered stepping off from the path in case someone had set a trap for her there. Remembered retreating under the intertwined shadows of tree’s brunches so not to be noticed. Remembered moving further without any sound. And remembered seeing him...It was hard to forget someone like that. A dark robe, crossed sword sheathes on the back, a hood...and a bird skull covering the face. It was hard to forget this particular Locun.
She was sure he left the swamps. Everybody would've left after having their stomach sliced by the murky Hemitian and surviving it.
But he didn't. He was there. Standing in a few meters away from her cover, unmoving and oddly cautious and calm for the same time.
He was waiting. Waiting for her, she knew it. Because Caliban didn't walk here, the path was too isolated and free from Arachins he hated so much. It was impossible the Locun wasn't aware of it if he decided to avenge the Hemitian.
So he was going to avenge her?
She remembered thinking she didn't want to know. Remembered turning and walking away. Calmly. No reason to hurry to get away nervously like a scared prey. It's just not wise.
But she remembered him following. It wasn’t that obvious for someone inexperienced. But she could feel this watchful gaze somewhere from the dense blackness that lived between the old trunks and leaves. Could hear the careful silence his movements kept within.
But she kept walking. She kept changing turns abruptly, slowing and speeding almost carelessly with a secret hope he would become stranded because of not knowing this place as good as she did.
But he was stubborn and his presence still was somewhere around. Lurking, watching...
A bit frustrated, she jumped, and flung herself over the low brunch. A whole labyrinth of them was revealing itself ahead and wet bittersweet smel of swamp became discernable. Even of he would follow her there, deceptive moors would slow him down.
She remembered smiling in glee.. And she remembered him calling out to her all of sudden.
"Wait! Please..."
And now she watched curiously as he stood just in a couple of steps away. He unsheathed his swords...just to embed them into the soil in a graceful, trained and deadly movement. Then he took sheathes off. Samedi narrowed one eye skeptically and turned around, facing him completely, looking half-amused.
The Locun, obviously relieved she wasn't leaving, was undoing his tattered black robe and taking it off, the dark fabric gliding on his body and baring... bandages..
His body was covered up to his neck and to the fingertips with them, leaving only most part of his legs bared and face still covered with a skull mask.
"Oddly familiar way of dressing, I see. Well? Is that's all you wanted to tell me?" she joked sounding relaxed and carefree, but understanding this sudden act.
He was showing he was harmless. No weapon could be hidden from her, no deadly ace was hidden in a dark sleeve. Because there were no sleeves anyway.
"Just don't go any further, I'm convinced enough" she chuckled as he put the robe down. He raised his palms indicating his peaceful intentions, his mask still on the face.
He approached her carefully. She watched, cocking her head to the one side. He stepped on the brunch and crouched, getting himself balanced. She waited, mind already calculating different ways of retreat. Just in case.
The empty sockets stared at her. And then he took the skull mask off.
“I don’t mean you any harm” he said in a quiet voice, passing his mask in his lower shorter limbs.
Samedi curled her mouth in a smirk. Not so unwilling now? She wasn't that stupid to miss the gesture of trust and plea for acceptance he offered by revealing, but still.
She didn’t remember his features then. She just didn’t care about it. And now those violet eyes were looking at her from a young gray face. Long thin scar was running from one his cheekbone to another, crossing his nose like some kind of a mark. Few jagged scars could be noticed on the both sides of his jaw and some more could be seen on his neck where it wasn’t covered with bandages.
And despite those scars looking painful and rough, the Locun’s face expression was…

Soft. Strangely calm. And a bit uneasy.

Feeling intriqued, she reached out and touched it. Her fingers ran over smooth cheeks and then glided upon more jagged surface of the scars, particularly interested in the one across the grey face, the touch now not restricting, but studying.
He let her do it, despite of being awkward with feeling her hands on his face. His breath evened in tension and eyelids fluttered slightly, but he held his pose allowing himself only a slight breath of relief when she pulled away.

Sating her curiosity, Samedi settled back and rested her head on her upper hand's palm.

“What do you mean then?” she actually knew the answer. But she would have liked to hear it. He blinked and then looked at her, honesty and gratefulness burning up gently in those violet eyes
“You saved my life, I can only hope to repay somehow” he said, his voice even and determined and still incredibly hushed.
Samedy closed one eye mildly amused on the façade and deeply astonished inside.
Now that was unexpected.
No one she saved actually tried to repay her. Well, mostly because she didn't give them a chance to do so, always dissolving in the swamps where a few could go without a reason. But judging by this Locun's previous reaction, he wasn't even intended to thank her. And asif she wanted a grattitude from The...
She interrupted herself, not letting her mask of teasing calmness ro fall down.
The Locun, armless and bare of his disguise was unmoving, waiting patiently for her answer. No hint of irritation or insincerity came from him and thet was something definitely new. Even endearing in the way he sat and watched at her with serenity and hidden worry at the same time.

And even the surrounlings seemed to pretend to be devoid of any other sounds and living beings, pleading for the final.
Samedi sighed mentally.
If things turned out to be this way, she must take the most of them. And the most she wanted now was...
"You can start repaying by telling me exactly who you are"
If he really was ready to repay, he wouldn't hesitate to tell the truth about himself.
Something fluttered in those violet eyes. Not a trigger to lie, not a devastation with her deamnd. Something akin to doubt. But then it drowned in the sea of decisiveness, as the Locin said with slight smile
" That's a long story, but we have time "
Samdedi tilted her head contentedly, resting more comfortable, her eyes never leaving the bandaged stranger as he was sitting himself down more properly as well.
"Yes. Indeed we have..."

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PostSubject: Re: Writings of the Gooder   Writings of the Gooder EmptySat Dec 05, 2009 6:21 am

-rolls around wildly- Oh my god this is so awsome! I love it, ah makes me want to roleplay this out. SO awsome!!!!!!!!!!!

The fates will lead the willing and drag the unwilling
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PostSubject: Re: Writings of the Gooder   Writings of the Gooder EmptyThu Dec 10, 2009 9:32 pm

Aww, thanks! It makes me happy 8D
And here are some drabbles of Nanova's Vigor and my Samedi. Beware the fluff XD
I hope you'll like it - I have more cuteness in mind, but kept it to myself in case you would object X3

P.S. I tried to leave Viggy in his adorable character as much as possible CX

It probably wasn’t very polite to come to the stranger and speak to him just because she was interested. But she didn’t care – she had seen enough darkness to restrict herself from reaching out to the light. So she talked to him and he responded. He smiled and she couldn’t help but smile too. He held her hand and she was coming back home with the stupidest grin on her face and determination to defend this Scarabin whenever his inner light is threatened.


He can't believe it. He asks it again and again and he still can't believe it.
"So..." Vigor repeats and gets an annoyed glare from Elijah, who is engaged in fixing a weapon "This was Samedi?"
"For the heavens sake, Vigor, yes!" the Pygmy huffs, waving his arms "It was her! What part of it you can't get?"
"Sorry" the powerful Scarabin sighs. A picture of curious and Myrian female with a pleasant smile comes up before his eyes again and bewilderment feels him again.
"She doesn't seem to be a crazy, evil, ugly hag they describe her!" he says indignantly. His Pygmy friend shrugs his shoulders
"Well, as far as I know she IS a hag. Can't explain it to you more clearly" he reaches for the string and keeps fixing the blade on the spear "But she is. And she is crazy..."
Despite feeling strangely offended, Vigor keeps listening. Elijah drops an item, picks it back and continues.
"Well, she does some things that only madman would do on Grimm. Or you” he shrugged “But the rest of things about her are mostly rumors. A big part of the Grimm kinda doesn't like her, because she is poking her nose in their business whenever she likes" measuring his work with the squinted eye, Pygmy pauses a bit " And the smaller part is actually grateful to her for the same thing, however the gossips keep blooming" he gives Vigor a look "You would say it's not fair?"
Vigor nods, wondering how good his friend seems to know him. Probably, he is really that simple. He doesn't care at the moment. Elijah shakes his head.
"I guess, it doesn’t bother her. She has other stuff to do than listen to someone’s rumors. And we both know that she is not old and evil as they say anyways"
Vigor agrees and suddenly adds mentally
"And she isn't ugly..."

Second Time

"We'll see her again." Elijah said once.
And they did. Well, Vigor did.
He found her by accident, at the misty lands between Grimm and Tortuga, fussing over the motionless Lepidorian. A trickle of blood at the side of his head could be noticed, when Scarabin dared to step closer. Samedi was tending to it, all for hands flying over, cleaning the wound, disinfecting it.
“Some Arachin” she suddenly said. Vigor flinched, astonished by how casual she sounded after noticing him that close to her.
“Bit the poor thing” the Myrian explained “He resisted, but the bastard hit him untill he blacked out. It’s good I decided to pass by here…”
Vigor finally found his voice.
“You chased him away?” he asked amazed. Everyone could look small in comparison to his bulky frame, but Samedi looked just…petite.
She smirked.
“I have my ways” she looked at the wound then “It’s done. The venom must be gone already, but I can’t leave him alone here untill he comes around…” she suddenly looked up at the massive Scarabin “You look like you wanted to ask something”
Vigor stammered a bit, puzzled by the question. He did want to ask, to talk to her. But now all worlds seemed to ball up somewhere in his throat, so he could sputter only one pathetic phrase.
"Err..I'm Vigor, by the way...You know, I didn't introduce myself last time...That was not very polite, so I...Well...umm..." he ceased back to awkward mumbling, irritated at himself for speaking and taking her time away with this nonsense. But all shame dissipated when he notices a curve of smile on her face, as she stood up, came close and patted his arm in a childish way.
"Nevermind. You've made up for it already" she reassured and then narrowed her eyes smugly "And I think, you already know my name. So we are even" the Myrian paused and then added as if tasting the name itself "Vigor...It suits you so much"
He couldn’t help his heart skipping.


They just talked then. Sitting on the ground and keeping a vigil on the unconscious Lepidorian, they talked about all kind of stuff. Swamps, lands, animals, people…He couldn’t even remember it all. He just knew he was having a good time.
Somehow it was so light and easy to simply speak to her and it amazed him, how amicable the Myrian appeared to be, sitting so close to him, smiling lightheartedly. Probably it was really an honor.
The sweet moment interrupted by the moan of awakening Lepidorian, Samedi got up and looked around sharply. A flick of sadness seemed to flash in her eyes, but Vigor wasn’t sure.
“I must be off now I guess” she shrugged “Usually I show them the way back, a safe one…But that’s because no one actually here to see them off. And are you?” she asked suddenly and then squinted an eye at him “They trust you more, you know”
Vigor, standing up, bit back his frustration and asked:
“Do they?” he smiled “I don’t think I look like trustworthy here”
Samedi tilted her head
“But you feel this way” she said mysteriously. Scarabin could feel embarrassment swelling in his chest, but he didn’t give it out.
“So…would you trust me enough to meet again?” he asked in return, not sure if he should be asking this.
A smirk too gentle to be derision made his heart flutter in expextation.
“I feel so” Samedi answered, picking up her belongings.
Tearing him self fro, watching her shape dissolving into the shadows, Vigor hurried over to the groaning meddian.


“You now, you really should cut it out”
Vigor blinked at his friend.
Elijah sighed.
“Your hanging around the swamps. You think she would have still been there if it was so easy to find her? And if you get yourself stuck in the moor, I won’t be able to fix that”
Astonished and fighting the heat crawling up his face, Vigor asks
“How did you…”
The Pygmy smirks
“Simple. You smell like an ancient moor”


“You know, I didn’t expect to meet you here” Vigor smiled at the cloaked figure beside him “They say you don’t like being in town”
The figure waved him off with a sleeve
“Yeah-yeah-yeah and also they say I do bloody rituals and poke medians with needles when I’m bored yada yada yada. Now hush and let me listen what else I do!”
Vigor laughed silently as they both stood gazing at the chatting group at the Brakish Town’s shabby market.


She got used to many things like dangers and the fact The Monster was still lurking around. She got used to the hate lot of scoundrels poured on her or to the rumors that she came to listen herself sometimes.
She adapted to the swamps, feeling herself there protected even better than the most cunning Arachin in his web. And she got used to actually being alone. It wasn’t that bad – she could always come out and speak to anyone. She just didn’t want to.
But lately, when she was lying curled down in her narrow alcove in the dim lights of her hut, surrounded only by the herbs, dishes and lucky charms she made out of boredom and staring blankly into nowhere Samedi thought once again with a pang of sorrow that witches may crave company as well…


He got to know she never did any rituals. Never uttered even one spell. All magic she was described to own just didn’t seem to exist.
But at the same time he saw the great knowledge she mixed her medicines with, the incredible perceptiveness that she showed when detecting lie in people’s words and fearlessness she held within. And he understood that there was a lot more magic about this female that anyone would have ever imagined.


Vigor grunts, as he applies his weight to pin the beast’s muscled body to the ground, his metal arm imprisoning those powerful. The Baboon dog lets out a deep threatening growl that rumbles against his chest.
“He won’t chase us, after I’m done” Samedi reassured, picking the shards of rusted iron from the jagged wound on the creatures leg “I’ll stun properly”
“Um…I hope so” Vigor says, not knowing why he agreed to help her patch this mighty predator. Somehow, seeing the wound swelling from the remains of the trap made Samedi strangely sympathetic.
“It must have been torture for him” the Myrian comments, observing the uneven edge at the wound “He is a fighter”
“A very aggressive fighter” Vigor adds as the creature’s eye stares at him indignantly and its lip rises in a snarl. Samedi nods, the look switching to the enchanted one. She smoothes her hand over the fur.
“Indeed…But isn’t that fascinating…How someone so hostile can be so innocent at the same time…”


“I’ve seen a lot of them” Vigor said once during their talk “Worms, leeches, bristlebacks…some tentacle things. Always managed to chew on that” he flicked his talons over his metal arm, laughing. Samedi smiled
“And I’ve seen only one so far” she said quietly “But it is the big and scary one. And it has a lot of faces. Kinds keep you on your toes. It would get you otherwise…”
He knew she didn’t mean any animal – no beast could cause so much pain swelling in those green eyes at the sudden memory.
“It managed to chew on me, so to speak” the Myrian added, still staring “And I was too little to stop it, so someone else had to pay for it”
Vigor was silent, letting himself to put one comforting hand on her shoulder and making himself a silent promise to never let this Monster hurt her again.


“How bad is he?” Vigor asks Samedi as she holds close the shuddering little form of Ptyregon child. Myrian sighs.
“He is shaken up and terrified. I’ll have to smooth his thoughts to keep his mind from crumbling down” she looks up at Vigor and grins “I liked how you trashed this slavetrader around. I bet he won’t be able to walk for a while.
Scarabin’s sighs and crouches, stroking the trembling child’s back with the tip of his claw and closing his eyes sadly as it flinches sobbing.
“Let’s take him back to his mother. She is scared senseless”
“It’s not right” Samedi mutters cradling little one smoothing one hand over little one’s forehead and listening as its sobs subside a bit “Children are supposed to be loud, energetic, sometimes pouty and annoying and lively. Not scared and quiet as they are. It’s too…wicked”
Vigor watches her tender gestures to the poor thing she holds and understands with a chuckle that her opinion about children is nicer than she says.


Vigor remembers her victorious cackle as she slips out of Hemlock’s grasp and bashes the growling Scarabin’s cheekbone with her staff and understands that her real laugh – gentle and smooth - has been trusted to him.


“It’s going to be okay now” she murmurs, squeezing his long fingers soothingly as he growled silently when the female that had been calling for help so desperately got up, cussing and giving the hiding pair a glimpse of poisoned dagger strapped to her thigh.
“Bounty hunters are immoral bastards” Samedi shrugs “I had to make sure you won’t fall in this trap.
Watching the treacherous Anisian leave, Vigor looks down at the Myrian, chuckling.
“My hero”
She snerks
“Look, who’s talking”


She wasn’t the type that would laugh and shine, smile and cheer. And at the same time she was. In her own weird and bizzard way. Probably she must be scaring him off but instead he kept being attracted.


“How do you always guess?”
“Guess what?” she looked up at him, while working over some lucky charm in her lower pair of arms. Vigor gestured.
“When the person lies to you and when not. How?” he asked with almost childish curiosity. Samedi shrugged.
“I have to if I want to stay safe and intact here. And it’s not that hard. Some lies feel like filth. And you always feel when someone throws handful of dirt into your face, eh?”


She slides her hand over his metal arm, fingering the seams, digits and cold metallic surface. Her other hand studies the metallic talons, gently stroking each of them.
“Magnificent” she mutters. Vigor tilts his head.
“Are you keen on mechanics as well?”
“Nah” Myrian shakes her head “Never could get the gist of all those bolts and other stuff. But it doesn’t mean I can't admire it” her fingers ghost over the part where metal joins with flesh and Scarabin almost purrs.


One day she was about to go back home and he didn’t hold out from uttering this word. Awkward and ashamed, he turned away, and refused to look at her, until gentle hands guided his face to hers She asked him what he had meant by that plea. He said he had meant everything. Said how he felt near her. Said how much he had wanted to protect her. To stay close. To love…He said she didn’t have to if she didn’t want to and waited for reaction tensely. Only a feather-light kiss on the forehead and a hushed predictament about him regretting her staying was the answer.


“I may be not the one” she says thoughtfully as she is leaning against his broad said, her both right hands fingering his waist line. Vigor frowns.
“Not the one you need” she explains “I’m too raggedy and all…Just…” she pauses, nods to herself and continues “When you’ll meet your one, don’t be afraid…”her voice gets quiet “I’ll let you go. You deserve happiness”
He wants to object fiercely, to say he has already found his one and doesn’t need any other, but then, noticing that forlorn look on her face, just picks her up on his lap and holds her to his chest, sighing gently.
Sometimes actions speak better than words.


It was easier that she thought it would be. To love someone and be loved. She could say it came in one feather-light moment. Nothing had changed, after that actually – she still would come and go to do her business and he would do the same, they would talk and touch and even walk together if it was not-so-risky day on Grimm. But now it just raised on upper level – with more gentleness in their words, more caress in their touches and more peace between them.
And Samedi wanted it to stay there.


Her bandage top didn’t need to cover anything – her chest was protected and hidden by the exoskeleton V-shaped plates like on her stomach and lower zones. But when he saw her back he couldn’t help a gasp when he understood what she actually was hiding.
“Oh? Yeah, looks bad. Couldn’t reach my back to mend this right” she shrugged nodding at the horrid traces and cracks in her thinner back plate “So here is the result. But it doesn’t hurt now. And The Monster didn’t catch me then. He missed”
She rolled her bandages to wash off the dirt from them and Vigor sighed, stroking one scar tenderly.


Samedi didn’t need one. She could defend herself – she knew a lot of tricks and kicks and any other things that would get her out. Hiding behind someone else meant incapability to protect oneself and there wasn’t anyone who will protect her anyways.
She didn’t want Vigor to become one. But she had to admit, she let him do this somehow. Because The Monster, crawling around under different faces, has been the only one being, living at the dark corners of her thoughts. But now she had someone else to lock her mind on. And he became her protective wall between her and uneasy feeling at the memories of The Monster.


They were a really unique form of affection to her. She cherished them and always chose incredibly right moments to give them. Like when he was telling her his life story and suddenly felt her lips touch the side of his head that she cradled in her arms and his chin, dissolving the pain and sorrow that had a place in his heart.


“Sam…Samedi” he gasps reaching out to her stumbling shape, horrified “You…you are hurt”
“Oh great” she winces, leaning into his embrace “I’ve almost forgotten about it”
He is stunned, worried and at the same time angry at any scoundrel who did it. But most of all
“I…” he looks around helplessly “I’ll get you to the healer”
“Save the trip” the Myrian huffs, tentatively touching the gash on her side with stain of blood on her bandages “It’s just a crack – I’ve already put some glue to it, so it would be fine”
“It’s fine” she cuts off gently and then closes her eyes tiredly “Just need to lie somewhere. Let the glue do its work and all…”
The only thing is left to do for him is to cradle her slumbering form in his arms watchfully as the anxiety engulfs him with every too silent breath.


In the same evening later he sees the limping Hyme whining something about wind, fallen trunks and witches. Giving a still sleeping Samedi a glance, Vigor understands that she isn’t called a hex for nothing.


Nevermind how many times he heard those talks about her being insane. He knew they weren’t true. Yes, there was a glint in her eyes, some oddities about her behavior and that weird manner of speech. But she didn’t look crazy to him.
She reminded him of a bone that once had been broken and managed to heal. But it become distorted, because there was no healer to watch the process, to fix it right hence all abnormality. So at the precious moments he is holding her against his chest or is lying with her at his side he promises himself that from now on there will be someone that cares…


“I don’t know if it is a good idea…”
“But you still offered it first, eh?”
“Well, yeah”
“And I agreed. So stop mumbling, will you?”
“I just don’t want to force you or something”
“You don’t. I hadn’t even knew before that it was really cold by myself…Sure, if you don’t want it, I won’t force you…”
“No, no! I do!”
“Then come here already”
Smiling, Vigor took off his jacket and slipped into his bedding a bit awkwardly and couldn’t help a pleasant shudder, when other being pressed close to him, arms wrapped around the most of his neck.
“That’s better” Samedi smiled, nuzzling into his chest “I imagined my sleepover at your place just like that”
“I’m glad you really don’t mind” he replied, resting his palm against her back gently feeling so complete like he had never felt in ages.
“Why would I?” she tugged at his neck playfully “I got a nicest cuddlebug here!”
Vigor laughed heartedly
“Me too. And it’s really the pretty one” he added, loving how Samedi rubbed her cheek over the large chest casually to hide her embarrassment “Good night, Samedi”
“ ’Night “


She never screamed when she had one. Sometimes she would just sit up abruptly, looking around with wide green eyes and getting hold of her breath to hide her fear from invisible enemy. Sometimes she would get up without waking up and walk around calmly and cautiously as if expecting for someone to intrude.
But it always would be his gentle coaxing that leads her back to bed and lulls her to sleep.


They wouldn’t meet often – Grimm is not the right place for dates anyway. They would see each other in their place, which is all clearing, covered with moss.
And it would be silent
He would settle down, laying on his back as she would curl on his chest, listening to his every breath and heartbeat attentively while he is fingering her skin searching for the possible new scars or fractures except the new ones.
And only then they would start talking.
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PostSubject: Re: Writings of the Gooder   Writings of the Gooder EmptyFri Dec 11, 2009 12:24 pm

Oh mai gawd..... I LUVVVVVVVV this sooo muuuuuchhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! XD
I hope you make more in the future! I enjoyed reading this! >3< its so cuteee lol
And I think you got Viggy's character perfect! He's like a little child lOl <33
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PostSubject: Re: Writings of the Gooder   Writings of the Gooder EmptySat Mar 06, 2010 5:10 am

Alright, people! I wanted to post it after I'm done with anything else, but...It's too quiet here! D: Way too quiet. So behold teh FLUFF!
In my new drabbles about Viggy and Sammy! ^^ *those two make me all warm and ticklish inside - thanks, Nova, for letting me cuddle Vigor like that <3*


Sure Vigor couldn’t rival with Hemlock, who seemed to kill people just by bumping into them. But Hemlock was a cruel, perverted scum who loved to cause as much pain as possible.
And Vigor hated hurting someone.
But his body was perfect for fighting, not for cuddling. All sharp angles and hard muscles, enough to make the embrace quite uncomfortable. And having a mechanical arm – cold, sharp-angled, metal arm – wasn’t making it better at all.
He never expected that someone would ever hug him, curl up next or on him without scraping herself over the sharp edges. That someone will actually find him comfortable and even – oh, heavens! – cuddly, and would be so eager to rest in his embrace.
But Samedi did it just fine.


He bent his head down and nuzzled his cheek against her shoulder.
“I love you” he whispered gently. She stiffened a bit, asking in silent awe:
“You say that so easily, without a doubt…How?”
He shrugged, resting his face close to hers.
“Well, too many bad things are being said on Grimm so simply. Why do we have difficulties telling some good ones to each other? Eh?” he winked at her, mimicking her manner of speech and laughed deeply as she jokingly pushed his shoulder.


First he thought that they were a part of a theatrical act for her. She wiped imaginary tears with the corners of her headbands in a mock sadness or after laughing hard. She faked sobs in a derisive parody of devastation. She used them like a tool of a comic actor to show everyone who wanted to see her in pain in despair, that their efforts were futile. That she would never actually cry.
But once, Vigor saw her real tears. While she was staring absentmindedly in the space humming some lullaby she used to be cradled with, she cried. Without a sound. She won’t sob or whimper, still humming the melody in the even tone lulling and so painfully lonely. And tears were trickling down her face eerily silent like a blood from the wound. The wound she couldn’t reach with all her medical knowledge. The wound in her very soul…
And she wasn't going to admit this wound, that bleeding as well. As if she tried not to notice it at all. As if she didn’t care – just like someone else hadn’t cared long time ago, leaving her scared and scarred.
Kneeling down next to mesmerized Myrian and wiping her tears with the tips of his talons tenderly, Scarabin felt sad for her and couldn’t help feeling relieved at the same time. For at least now Samedi had someone to share her tears with.


There are some nights he hates. When the memory of burning village starts projecting itself into the night shadows, making it impossible to avert his gaze. When his beloved sister’s hoarse muted scream and bubbling sounds of her slit throat haunt his mind, stomping on his sleep painfully. When the memory of murderers’ evil sadistic laugh makes the place where his right arm once have been to burn with pain again and his mother’s terrified face is the only thing he sees when he closes his eyes. He always hated nights like that. When the sinking, inevitable feeling of loneliness, which crumbled on the Scarabin mutilated child after it awoke with the ruins of its village, comes back, making him toss and turn around, resisting the urge to call out for someone long lost, and feed the demons of the past with his tears.
But now there are nights when the painful memories are chased away with a single touch to another smaller body resting next to him. When other’s heart pulse and silent breathing in his collarbone deafens screams and laughter. When there is particular someone, he can hold close and feel the demons disappear.
And these are nights he loves.


“You didn’t have to come” he tried to assure her again, pushing himself up on his elbows, smiling awkwardly “Really...I’ll be fine in a few days, so it’s nothing to worry about”
She shrugged while totally engulfed in mixing something in a bowl. The aroma of herbs and something sharp hung in the air of his dwelling. Her hands moved swiftly and deftly, totally familiar with the space of his house.
“Sure I could have locked you in my hut and fret over you there…But you simply won’t fit in” Vigor’s last words seemed to be falling on the deaf ears, but he wasn’t really annoyed. His head hurt, his vision was a bit blurred and some knots were twisting around nauseatingly and his body felt so drained that even his metal arm, was starting to feel too heavy. But sudden company managed to make this all more…bearable. He never actually was nursed – his parents made it clear that nobody would bother with him and such nonsense of an illness mustn’t be a distraction. But it took Samedi a few dizzy steps and one almost-puking up to loose her patience and to get him to lie down and let her “make it better”. It was embarrassing indeed. But he could deal with it. He dealt with predators, local thieves and scoundrels - dealing with an other's care wasn't that scary. Albeit, not something he was used to.
Sighing, Vigor slumped in his bedding, as the dizziness came back. He was only briefly aware of Samedi moving around, her current place only defined by a sharp scent of medicine. As it got sharper, he felt Myrian sliding to sit near him, free pair of hands lifting his head gently, urging him to move into half-sitting position. He grunted, half-closing his eyes, but did as asked.
“There” Samedi approved “Now drink this”
A cup was now close to his face. Supporting it with one hand he drank it all up and cringed.
“It’s bitter…” Vigor said in almost pouting tone as the warm unpleasant aftertaste filled his mouth.
Samedi chuckled, taking away the empty cup.
“But now I can really be sure that you’ll be back to health in no time”
“But it’s bitter…” he almost whined, looking up at her and making her laugh.
“And this?” she asked coyly, bending down and kissing his forehead gently. He made a thoughtful look.
“Didn’t quite get the taste” he admitted and then asked hopefully with the same childish expression in his eyes “Can I have another one?”
He got another one.


“I would really like to go somewhere more…snowy” he said, watching the stars – the only pure thing that Grimm couldn’t stain with its spite and hatred.
“Hm?” Samedi drummed her fingers over his chest, looking at the sky as well “You like the cold?”
“Yes” he smiled “It feels nice…And clean somehow. Cleaner than cold here. Local cold just seeps into you and makes you tense”
“Probably you would like the Shard then” the Myrian wondered.
“Probably” he nodded and looked down at her tenderly “But I doubt I’ll leave”
“Why?” Samedi craned her neck to look at him “You wanna go somewhere else and any place would be better than Grimm. I don’t follow you here…”
Vigor sighed, rubbing her shoulder with his fingers.
“Yes, I hate it here…But…” he paused, blinking at the little twinkling stars above them, smaller than the others but even brighter than them “Children…I can’t leave them here. I know, how it is – when you have no one to help you, to speak for you, to defend you…” he tightened his hold at the painful memory and Samedi pressed closer absentmindedly “ And I don’t want them to know it. Ever. Even though they would grow up and become as brutal as the rest of Grimm. I still can’t…” Sacarbin’s voice trailed off.
The Myrian pulled herself higher and dropped a kiss at the both side of his jaw, all her arms splayed over him protectively.
“Such a torturing burden you have chosen, Viggy” she shook her head, nestling it at the crook of his thick neck “Mine is simpler – to leave The Monster hungry for good, but I still can’t fulfill even that”
He hummed in objection, nuzzling the top of her head with his sharp chin carefully.
“You are doing great” Vigor said “And only thing I can do is to watch how more monsters rise…”


“ And anyways, you are used to the swamps so much and taking you with me may harm you and leaving you here will harm me” the blue Scarabin explained, however by the adoring tone of his voice it was obvious that leaving without her wasn’t an option.
Samedi huffed, fingering his shoulder spike
“I live on swamps because of tactical advantage: I’m protected there. I wouldn’t need to defend myself this much there, eh?”
“But what about the cold?”
She sniggered.
“If it’s only one thing that may bite me there, I’m sure I’ll handle it. And I guess, I would like the snow. It’s so white…” she smiled longingly “So…pure…”
Relieved, he rubbed his face against her cheek, earning a contented sigh and wishing that they both could get at least some of purity, lack of which was suffocating on Grimm.
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PostSubject: Re: Writings of the Gooder   Writings of the Gooder EmptyMon Dec 27, 2010 7:28 am

It's been a while. Never lost my interest in Meddus and charas though. Just had some obstacles to deal with and getting my DA account deleted wasn't of any help. Rolling Eyes
I'm really glad Meddus still lives and blooms I love you

There is a drabble I did for Mouse, but was too unsatisfied with it and had a hard time editing. Hope it did any good and you'll like it, Mouse.
I was too eager to write something about Nadja. X3


Nadja couldn't help but feel good. Really good in fact. Nevermind the stress after nearly getting plundered by some cannibal Hyme, nevermind the stinging pain in his side and at least four of his paws temporally rendered paralyzed...Just nevermind!
Right now he was being cradled in strong arms, against a well-built chest, his long fuzzy body curling around sculptured waist and he felt safe and strangely content. Nadja even started thinking he really liked Dromos males - they were all chiseled predatory sharp beauty that has always enchanted him.
And this one wasn't an exception.
Wouldn't have been an exception if it hadn't been so obvious that Nadja's savior wasn't into males at all.
Piller could tell that Dromos was quite uncomfortable with such closeness, judging by how tense his body felt even during his pacing and those little warning growls rumbling somewhere from the depth of his throat every time Nadja shifted against him. And Piller’s arms wrapped around his neck in a loose embrace weren't helping at all - Nadja could only hope that Dromos would make it to the Pillers’ house without dropping him somewhere in the middle of their way. He actually felt sorry for confusing him so much and tried to be as still as possible, but nevertheless he couldn't help a delicious shudder when those arms hoisted him up a bit to hold him better. Just like now...Nadja bit back a little purr.
"I'm so spoiling you with treats when we are home!" he promised cheerfully glancing at both of his saviors. The Dromos' face remained gloomy, all four of his eyes narrowed and concentrated on the way ahead. He obviously could care less about the treats.
"Sweet!" his friend chirped, while skipping nearby. She was a complete opposite of her companion – friendly, talkative and endeared with Nadja’s fuzzy look so much that she even asked to pet his mane and he gladly allowed it. Tamarin – that’s was her name, yes… Such a lovely, colorful thing she was - all azure, deep-green and red patterns with some black parts, which had iridescent tint. A total contrast with her ally’s sandy and grayish coloring. And by her weird feature, Nadja could tell she was something between Arachin and Hyme. A hybrid.
However Nadja was totally unfazed by this - he liked her and treating her with sweets was the least thing he could do for her and her friend’s bravery.
The Dromos suddenly clicked a few notes in Arachin’s language and Tamarin clicked back playfully They warbled between each other some more and then Dromos scowled harder, while the hybrid just sniggered.
Nadja's ears twitched and he dared to ask.
Tamarin waved her hand sheepishly.
"Ah, don't worry, Fuzzy - Zatty is just being a little bit moody, that's al, ‘cause I was the one to knock that cannibal out!l"
Dromos let out a low half growling- half purring sound that resonated somewhere in his collarbone, right near Nadja's temple.
"That's what I said!" the female giggled "Moody!"
Dazed, Nadja just nodded.

"If he moves against me LIKE THAT again, I'll kill him, alright?"
"Oh, come on, Zatty, he didn't mean it"
"Like PIT he didn't mean it! I swear, he is groping me! At least mentally! Why does he have to cling to me like that? And why do you have to be too short to carry him? I feel like being wrapped in a one big fluffy insinuation!"
"Well, at least you know how women feel when you start molesting them just to look manly"
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PostSubject: Re: Writings of the Gooder   Writings of the Gooder EmptyMon Dec 27, 2010 2:35 pm

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! XD OH WOW This is so wonderfull do-gooder -clings to you with glee-

You wrote Nadja so perfect!!!!

-dances around happy-

was this for my contest gooder?

The fates will lead the willing and drag the unwilling
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PostSubject: Re: Writings of the Gooder   Writings of the Gooder EmptyTue Dec 28, 2010 5:42 am

Aww, thanks! x3 *hugs back* I'm glad you liked it and that I got Nadja right. He is such a cutie))

Nope, it wasn't for the contest, I just wanted someone to carry Nadja around X3
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PostSubject: Re: Writings of the Gooder   Writings of the Gooder EmptyTue Dec 28, 2010 6:46 am

XD Nadja sure dosn't mind being carried about >3

The fates will lead the willing and drag the unwilling
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