#v. crossover

@knightlyrival​

[ TEND ]: sender begins to care for the receiver’s injuries.

🍃🏹➳   An eye opened drearily as she felt something,  shift and touch her injured,  exposed ribs.   That something,  as the light pooled in and vision focused,  was actually someone,  it seemed.    A small,  round creature,  sentient,  judging from his well-crafted armor.  

         A groan escaped her lips as a surge of pain shot through the injured area.    At first this gave Huntress Wizard reason to believe that perhaps the orbish being was either harming or trying to take her belongings,  and she immediately attempted to sit up to try and shoo him away.    Big mistake,  as not only did she discover he was bandaging it to stifle the bleeding,  it also just made it hurt much much worse.

        Seeing as there was no danger from him,  for now,  she allowed herself to succumb to the pain,  and flopped back down on her back,  groaning again.

【 ⚔️ 】— This land was strange but familiar all at once. A civilization in a vast desert, where women warriors lived and thrived. The building architecture and even the way the people dressed were similar in nature as well. Had it not been for the blazing red hair, Rashida would have thought she had been teleported to an Aen Qadim-- Sand elves, settlement in Zerrikania. But alas, she did not recognize the area nor the people.

       The witcher approached the gate, where two very tall guards stood watch. They glanced down at her, one of them eyeing the disembodied head of the harpy at her hip, but said nothing, and allowed her to pass.

“Gross.”

An expression of horror rose to Ivar’s face as he wandered into the inn’s kitchen. If the fact that it was Flynn cooking wasn’t already bad enough, the man was holding a bottle for spicy flavoring, seemingly debating on whether to add it. Pure fight of flight instinct kicked in, and Ivar dashed forward to stop another tragedy from happening.

💾💿– The green-skinned cyborg didn’t exactly know what the weird gun thing the man had pointed to his head was, but people didn’t usually point a weapon at themselves unless they were in a really dark and terrible depression. So Techmo, being a reasonable man who really didn’t want to see some stranger off himself, did the only sensible thing, and used his techno-kenisis to flick the weapon away and dropped it down to the floor.

     “Hey, don’t do that,” he said, sounding more like he was annoyed that the man had the audacity to try whatever it was he was doing in front of him than out of concern.

        The silence in her dark, snowy surroundings was troubling, mostly because last she had checked, it was supposed to be two in the afternoon, and she was supposed to be in southern New Mexico, where it never snowed, at least not in the Spring. The silence was soon broken by the sound of light feet crunching in the snow nearby.

      Prepping her metal fist, she waited until the crunching stopped. Pulling her shaded goggles off her face and around her neck to see in the dark better, her eyes narrowed when she saw the figure. A skeleton in a dark robe... or at least she thought it might be a skeleton-- it looked kinda melted. Surprisingly, she didn’t seem too spooked by him.

Oh? He feels Dax’s small hand pressing something into his. Reflex demands he eat it, but he closes his hand around the small, hard object until the compulsion passes. Once it does, he brings it up to look at it.

It’s a rounded rock, smooth with bands of white color in it. There’s a faint glint to it, so he can’t be sure… He licks it, before looking at it again.

With the layer of moisture, the bands of opal are glinting in the light, a smile coming to his lips.

🍃🏹➳ “To tell you the truth, I wouldn’t really call myself a hero or a villain,” she said, looking over at the man in the mask. He was irritating a bit, but he at least had good fashion sense.