#hackneyed

Prompt: Hackneyed

Kismet drummed his fingers on the table, watching as Anzhi pored over the parchment he had gripped in his hands. The blonde’s ears twitched as he read, and though there was a slight blush present on his cheeks and a smile on his face, his brows were furrowed in thought as his blue and gold eyes roamed the page. It took him a good few minutes to really absorb the contents of the page.

Characters: Arazul De'fleur, Hemlocke, mention of Seiro.

Synopsis: Charged with helping the wounded, Arazul takes a much needed moment for himself and finds something hunting him in the dark.

Setting: Lochs, Battle of Ghimlyt Dark.

Warning - Blood

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Many long hours had passed with the sounds of explosions and battle cries could be heard in the distance. The skies were black but remained visible thanks to the many wildfires and search lights off in the distance. At the medical tent, many were already gathered to be seen and tend to all the simple wounds they could without the assistance of magic.

With sweat beading on his brow, Arazul disposed of his blood soaked gloves and took in a calming breath with the hopes to ease the pounding of his heart, “I.. need some air…” He murmured off deeply to one of the other physicians present but doubted the attendant had heard anything in her busy hustle.

A small spring trinkled down from a sparse forest nearby the tent that the doctor strode off to afford himself a few quiet moments alone. Thin fingers rose to rub firmly at his temple when the pounding of his heart fell to sync with a growing headache he sought to fight off.

Despite recovering from the coma, this panic was one of many symptoms that he tangled with in the aftermath of his condition, “No, not now…There’s still too much left to be done. This is different from before…” He whispered out loud, knowing well that self-talk helped to bring him out of this state from time to time.

Arazul’s long ears perked after a moment in alarm when the distraction came in the form of a shuddering bush off to the left of his current position. Something crouched in wait – attempting to hunt him. He cursed under his breath to have forgotten his sword back at the tent, but he wasn’t entirely without any weapon. Slowly, he reached inside the inner pocket of his jacket to retrieve a scalpel trying to keep as still as possible.

He heard the creature take a decisive step forward, beginning to make out the glow of glaring red eyes from the green coverage. With an inhuman snarl out, a quick movement tracked the heavy footfall of boots displacing red dirt underneath towards him to pounce right at him.

Luckily, the doctor was quicker and stronger than he was – He lifted his forearm in time to feel the maw press down upon and sharp canine teeth piercing easily through the cloth to flesh.

Gritting his teeth to bite back the conflicted feeling of pain and burning pleasure shooting up his arm, Arazul had dropped the scalpel from his hands in their tussle. He quickly retaliated with one well-placed blow of his curled fist to the middle of his attacker’s stomach that sent him stumbling back and ultimately flopping back onto the ground.

Detachedly, Arazul noted that he might have enjoyed being bitten with the way the burning venom sought to tantalize, but under these circumstances and from a man he didn’t know- “Unsanitary...” An unpleasant frown formed at the doctor’s purple tinged lips, unlikely not to go away any time soon. The doctor peered down at the young man whom he assumed to be another one of the empire’s experiments gone wrong.

He hummed thoughtfully in consideration of putting him out of his misery, “I think he may be around Cecilia’s age…” After picking up his scalpel, he reached into his pocket for a pair of thick bandages tinged with a heavy red dye. Arazul tied him up for good measure to make sure he wouldn’t be of any more harm to himself or others.

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“So, you mean to tell me your condition is a form of vampirism...like a fabled ashkin? My sister used to read romantic nonsense about them...Are they not supposed to follow some sort of cliché – seductive and alluring..” Crossing one now cleansed and bandaged arm over the other, Arazul’s brow rose to look over Hemlocke with a speculative glance over.

The smaller elezen with his face covered in soot, disheveled hair, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, clothing torn up from the ferocity of the battle – it wasn’t anything like he expected.

“Well, if you will excuse me for not fitting your expectations! Ashkin or nightkin...I have no idea. But still, a battle is hardly the place for all that.” With his wrists raised above him and intricately tied up by the thick bandages that bound them, Hemlocke moved his hands experimentally as if to test them. He found no give whatsoever in their snug hold. His heavy crimson eyes wandered over the doctor’s tall form, inevitably ending on his bare neck.

A sharp pain of hunger cut through him that had him restlessly fidgeting and groaning against the stretch table Arazul had laid him down upon, “And as much as I enjoy waking up to the sight of a handsome man leaving me tied me up..I-I need to get back out there. I lost track of Seiro in the fight. He was so nervous when we left...need to watch his back.”

With a heavy sigh, Arazul shook his head to hear him dissolve into endless mumblings to himself in his concern over his friend. This had been exactly what he needed to feel something like his old self again – focused with the challenge of a problem to solve, “I know of the man, and I assure you he can take care of himself. You have far more pressing concerns…”

For example,

“Henry was disappointed by the hackneyed phrases that spewed from the so-called leader, none of which inspired confidence or offered comfort during the crisis.”

This has been a long time coming, but ive been working on a webcomic!! GET READY FOR HORSIE HIJINKS IN “HACKNEY(d) KINGDOM!”

For example,

“Henry was disappointed by the hackneyed phrases that spewed from the so-called leader, none of which inspired confidence or offered comfort during the crisis.”

For example, 

“Henry was disappointed by the hackneyed phrases that spewed from the so-called leader, none of which inspired confidence or offered comfort during the crisis.”