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it comes back

Alexei Dinoia was lost.

                                    There is a distinction to this being lost however. He feels his chest constrict and tighten, he feels each breath slowly caress from his throat in the musty air, wood being carved, run around in anticipation of something. His gaze ( and common sense ) tells him it’s ritualistic, a festival of some sort, but none of which come to mind that would make sense. No fair was close to the time he was aware of, yet as he passed people ( strange, strange people. several of them bearing pointed ears, odd, unfitting clothing and strange expression between worry and excitement ) they never once seemed to blink at him. They all accepted him, didn’t look at him twice, nor did they seem to care of the ex-commandants movements, even as he grabbed one’s shoulder and asked directions.

Instead he was pointed to the mayors office. At which he stood several inches taller than the man complaining at the desk, his expression one of bewilderment, and when he asked again,  ( overworked, bags riding under her eyes, an obvious unsettling feeling as she bit at her lip, pointed ears twitching backwards ) the receptionist clued him in upon the festival. The town’s name, a map placed in his hands showing the odd structure, his eyes scanning over the walls of a town in curiosity. Walking out, a sigh slips his lips, scratching at the back of his head.

There had been arguing. And not that of the frustrated man with a strange mustache leaning against the desk. No, beyond the door, two people shouting opinions to high heavens, and a small, feeble voice mumbling something as unsure. Eyes turning, he squints up at the —

Eyes widen suddenly. Realization hitting him at the unsettling feeling which he had since he had entered this town. His mouth opens, slowly, unsurely, eyebrows furrow uncertainly. “That …

                                         The moon loomed above his head, an eery smile ‘pon
                                          her  lips. Mouthy  teeth  sending  shudders down  his
                                          spine.

This town … was —

A sharp snap of his head, tapping feet, a determined expression. Alexei’s motion near halting to look after the young boy in green as he rushed off somewhere. A tinkling little … wait, no. No, he had never seen anything like that before. Shaking his head, he returns his gaze to the map, before his eyes lift again. The boy is standing at a gate, a guard holding out their hand, keeping him in place.
                                                [ child. guard stops children from hurting themselves ]

He was about to turn away once more when the guard’s stance relaxed. Alexei’s eyes widened in surprise and he stared. There was no obvious signs of befuddlement. His mind was racing, thinking of all the excuses this guard ( dare he even use that word? no, that word was saved for those who guarded the lives and helped the citizens keep safe, this was no guard, he bore no title, he stood watch as a child, just to his waist, rushed past the guard.

Red eyes narrow in frustration and his movements slowly grow quicker paced. Long strides of his feet and he’s headed towards that gate, the man sees him, there is no attempt to stop him, and Alexei does not even bother to look twice at the pitiful excuse of a military officer. There were words, but everything had a time and a place. Alexei would face them, when it was needed. For now, he had one thing he felt much more compelled to protect than the guards career. The young boy who was going to be suffering due to the carelessness.

It was their job to protect the innocent. The citizens, the people who were either too naive or too unable to protect themselves from things a bit too large from them.

                                             He doesn’t know what he’s to expect when he breaks through the confines of the city.

                                     But it’s not this.

His eyes dilate, adjust, the darkness blinds him for a second before the light blasts his eyes, the sudden change disorienting him for a second. His hand pressing against his his temple, shading it as a field.

The sections of the world, as he looks left and looks right, each one appear … what’s the wordregulated? No, that’s not quite right. There’s obvious signs, the grass ends in specific places. Like someone took the function of a world, and broke it’s pieces off and knitted them together around one town. His mouth purses, unsure, before his mind snaps back to his current objective.

The boy. He’s wearing green, a sword is placed snuggly at his back with a rather large shield. It fits his arm, and Alexei sees it does, yet it feels too big for some reason. Moving forward, he realizes there’s an elevated platform almost that he’s standing on. The slope downward touching grass catches him off guard and he near stumbles, catching himself carefully on a glide downward, and instead keeps his focus now upon the child with the sword.

The thing there, floating, bobbing around the child’s head swirls, catching enemies attention, and the boy attacks. A stance he is familiar with. And he picks it apart. Any weakness ( there aren’t many, it isn’t as he would expect: a young boy playing hero ) and strengths. He’s relatively surprised, catching himself memorizing stances to keep in mind for later fights himself. Despite the fact the only thing on his person ( besides a warm cloak, his bag with a few essential supplies ) being his sword. He did not need the defense required here. The enemies were blobs of jell from the looks of it. Even as one came closer to him.

He could hear it, see it out of the corner of his eye, and he did not need to do anything but walk forward. The white cloak around his person hiding his weaponry from all but careful eyes. Those who would look as he did. While this boy was strong ( there was an obvious knowledge of the sword and shield, weaponry held as-if natural, like he did. it was another form of breathing instead of a stance ) there was still a worry.

No boy should be left alone with … whatever piece of living dust decided to follow along with him.

Though he would not sneak up upon the boy. He was not insane, nor was he going to poke for trouble, insist that he go back inside. His instincts told him to do so, but if the guard was as asinine as he believed, his abilities were better fit to helping this small child, rather than forcing him into a town he could easily leave again. Walking closer, the bouncing twang of whatever these monsters are filled his ear, annoying him, but only just. He did not care for it, thus it was not important.

It could not hurt him. It was too slow, and much too predictable for his liking. Still …

               “Excuse me.” Standing a few feet away, far enough he was certainly out of range to that short sword the boy carried to suit his height. “Would you … perhaps like some help?

                                                                                           [ tunicisms ]

LOL a girl got expelled yesterday, TWO DAYS BEFORE SCHOOL IS OVER, for making a bong in ceramics class? i’m screaming she was a senior too