To be a Champion. . . ( Casey )

[DoS Archive]

From: casywideye@aol.com (CasyWIdEye)
Date: 20 May 1998 19:57:29 EDT

Casey wandered down the road leading from the Arena to her home, the West Hotel. Held tightly in her grasp was the neck of a bottle of fine wyne, and she moved with a slight weaving motion as she pressed forward. For the first time. . . she was drunk. She had told everyone she had been drinking in celebration, for the Bladesingers making it to the Championships, and for the suspected win of the title. While that may have been partly true, she was
also drinking to drown out her own personal disappointments of her final duel this season. . . another loss. It seems that was all she did lately in the rings. . . lose. She couldn't understand it, she knew she could duel well, she had proven that. But why couldn't she do it on a fairly consistent basis? Come to think of it, she hadn't won a duel for her team since she became captain. Now what was that saying? Maybe she shouldn't duel next
season, and stay with what she seemed good at. . . cheering for her team. She *knew* she was good at that. . . her team kept winning. But why couldn't she help them inside the rings as much as she did outside? And then there was Del. . . Del, who she did love, and who she admired, but he was so stubborn. Forcing her to take a salary raise when she knew she didn't deserve it. Not after her performance lately. Sure, everyone was saying she was as
much a part of the team, and deserved as much of the credit over the wins as the others, but she didn't didn't feel. . . right, taking credit when she was losing.

She sighed and took another long drink from the bottle, the dark red liquid flowing smoothly through her system as she continued her journey forward. She looked up from her constant survey of the ground. . . and what was that? Was she seeing things, or was there really a shadowy figure there? Was someone. . .something. . .following her? She dismissed the notion and took another step forward, suddenly finding her nose pressing against a tree.

"How the heck did this get out here so fast, in my way?"

She frowned, a bit drunkenly as she pivoted to move out of the path of the tree. She shook her head and raised the almost empty bottle to her lips yet again, allowing the drink to slide down her throat before she continued.

A rustling sound. . . she looked up, through the alcohol induced haze. Was it the wind. . . or a rustling of clothes on flesh, from a follower? She frowned, unable to determine the source.

"I'm imagining things. I must be."

She flopped her head up and down in her drunken nod of confirmation and continued on her way. She was imagining it, she had to be. . .

Or was she?

( Author's note: Feel free to respond however you want. . . it's pretty much an open post. :) )

[DoS Archive]

From: reaperarkn@aol.com (ReaperArkn)
Date: 20 May 1998 22:29:31 EDT

:::sees Casey weaving around as he wanders on one of common late night strolls::::

:::chuckles slightly as she appears to almost fall asleep on her feet:::

:::walks up::::

Need a shoulder to lean on, my friend? :::smiles to one of his newest friends::::

Lord Krollon Orak Arkanan
"The Reaper"
Warlord of DoS and...
Keeper of the Lost House

[DoS Archive]

From: casywideye@aol.com (CasyWIdEye)
Date: 20 May 1998 23:09:04 EDT

She jumps at the voice, the bottle slipping from her hands and landing on the ground under their feet with an echoing crash. She turns slowly, a dagger appearing in her hand, her reflexes slowed from the drink, and she narrows her eyes before relaxing slightly, recognizing Krollon. She looks him over, then down to the broken bottle, staring blankly for a moment before returning her gaze to her friend.

"No thanks, jus' on my way home from celebratin', really. . . "

She backs up a step, frowning.

"Were you followin' me? Why?"

She keeps hold of the dagger, the alcohol in her system playing with her mind, making her wary of even those she calls friend. She eyes him, looking for signs of an attack, ready to try to defend herself if need be. Her eyes on the man, she fails to notice the shard of glass in her foot, or the trickle of fresh blood mixing with the spilled wyne.

[DoS Archive]

From: reaperarkn@aol.com (ReaperArkn)
Date: 22 May 1998 15:56:12 EDT

:::shakes his head::: Nay, I wasn't following you. Just out for a stroll and noticed ya weaving along. You sure you can make it all right, I can open a Portal for ya to make the trip faster if'n ye wish? ::::notices the spilled wine and smells the tang of fresh blood:::; Might also want to take a look at yer foot when ya get home, looks like ya mighta hurt it a bit from that bottle o' yers.

Lord Krollon Orak Arkanan
"The Reaper"
Warlord of DoS and...
Keeper of the Lost House

[DoS Archive]

From: casywideye@aol.com (CasyWIdEye)
Date: 22 May 1998 17:45:31 EDT

She shakes her head at the mention of the portal.

"No thanks, I wanna walk home, I like the air."

Frowning, she looks down at her foot, then back up to him. "I'll be fine, thanks."

With that, she turns to go, not feeling the pain from the glass, and she continues her slow, weaving trek forward, looking about warily, her dagger still in hand, as if waiting for someone or something to attempt to attack her.

[DoS Archive]

From: reaperarkn@aol.com (ReaperArkn)
Date: 22 May 1998 22:48:25 EDT

:::watches her walk off unaided, slightly worried for her::::

:::uses his Magick and Summons a very small, invisible creature:::

"Watch over her and return."

:::empathically, the creature communicates its understanding and goes to do just that:::