Desert Refuge [Warnings Inside]

[The Freakshow]

WARNINGS: Violence, cursing, war, sex [later on, probably, but it should happen], physical trauma, and...the rest shall be added as the story goes on.
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The sun was excrutiating. Damien narrowed his blue eyes, raising a hand against the glare. His skin was already turning red, curse the fact that he was pale as could be, and his tattered clothing wasn't doing anything for him, either.

Another day of this and I'll be dead... He thought dazedly. I don't have any water, the sun's going to bake me...why did I run here?

Well, he knew the answer to that: he'd run away to the desert to escape the men who had been chasing him. Now he was going to die for his stupidity. He had no food, no water, and had been out here only a few hours. He was tired already, probably dehydrated...and he was going to die if he didn't get help soon. So he kept moving, hoping and praying he would find someone who could help him. Hell, even the men he'd run to escape would be good now.

Please...don't let me die out here.

[Colorful Catharsis]

he dark skinned man quietly surveyed his desert. And yes, he did indeed claim it, as vain as it was. Every grain of sand...every wind that passed through this village was his. Though rarely did he exert any sort of genuine authority over it. In fact...he was rather lazy with his reign. Though he was the very diplomatic voice of the Tahir Desert, he was notoriously lazy. Daily he would hear whisperings of complaint...of dissatisfaction from his village people. He cared little for their chiding. He knew the village was in fine shape. He knew of every little currency exchange, every little barter. His village was of decent size, but none so large as to be uncontrollable with a small council.

Built around a small oasis, his village was a common stop for travelers. His people were kind, hospitable and gentle. They would often house adventurers for a night or two...feed them, shelter them, water them before sending them on their way. Though his village was kind, they were still desert elves.

"Hm...?" the slender man's amber eyes caught a figure on the sands...tired, and definitely without water. It looked as if they'd have a visitor. The man began to walk forward...thinking of meeting the traveler halfway. His feet seemed to know the sands much easier than a humans, who would likely slide about and fall. Instead he slid lazily down the dune, smoking pipe in hand. Who was coming by Melenish today...?

As the elven man approached he became certain the traveler was in desperate need of attention. The way he walked...it looked like he was about to fall over at any moment. He quickened his pace, grabbing his own wineskin from his waist and uncorking it.

"Traveler! Are you well?" he asked across the sands, his voice thick with an Arabian accent. He seemed to understand and speak English well, just not quite how it was spoken. "Damn..." he cursed as he saw the man fall to the sand slowly, as if taking a break. That wouldn't do. What foolish person had wandered the Tahir without amenities...?

[The Freakshow]

"Traveler! Are you well?"

Damien would've screamed back, but he'd fallen to his knees in the desert sands, panting heavily. Damn, but he was thirsty! He'd only been walking perhaps two hours? Three at most? Now he was dehydrating fast...his skin was starting to burn through the holes in his clothes...and he was sure he was going to die. His hallucination of someone screaming at him...it was impossible.

"H-Help!" He screamed out, regardless, hoping that maybe he wasn't hallucinating, though the chances of that were very low. There was nothing out here in the desert...everyone knew that. "P-Please..."

Please, please help me. I don't want to die here yet...I don't want to die at all...I'll do anything, but please, don't let me die!

[Colorful Catharsis]

The elder was at the travelers side in mere moments, pushing the wineskin into the man's hands.

"Shh...quiet, just drink." his voice was gentle, but commanding. He needed to at least keep the stranger awake. He looked over his shoulder, hoping some of the village people had seen the spectacle and decided to help. And much to his luck, two men were already down the hill with means of which to transport the dehydrated traveler. Who in the world was he...?

A few women and their children looked on with interest, but some with dismay. Some disapproved of their leaders very open doors...regardless of race. The desert elven were hated in some lands...it was best that they didn't reach out so readily...

[The Freakshow]

The teenager coughed as he drank some of the liquid from the wineskin, wondering who on Earth was helping him. Really, someone was helping him? But...there weren't people in this desert? It wasn't...possible!

"Wh-who?" He muttered as he tried to open up his eyes, hardly managing to lift his lids. "...who..."

The boy didn't understand what was going on as he felt what felt like two people helping him onto something that felt...like either a stretcher or a hard wooden board. God, couldn't they have left him on his stomach...the sun on his face made him close his lids tighter. One of his hands reached up, the movement wooden, like a puppet's, and covered his eyes, trying to block some of the harsh light from damaging them further. With closed eyes and his hand atop them he could almost pretend he was going to be fine. That he wasn't hallucinating. That he wasn't going to die. Because he had to be hallucinating, and he had to be dying, right? There were no people in the desert...so he had to be crazy. It was pre-death craziness.

"...guess...dying isn't so bad..." He rasped out. "...not if I...know it..."

[Colorful Catharsis]

The elder bit his lip slightly, watching as the traveler was taken away.

"Take him to my tent." he instructed the men, who nodded and went on their way. What a bizarre stranger...what would make the desert so tempting to a man without water or food? It baffled the blonde, making him stare after the newcomer. What would come of this...? He'd need to accompany him...

[The Freakshow]

It felt like hours when he finally was able to open his eyes without feeling like they were becoming soundpapered together. A groan escaped the dirty-blonde as he tried to raise his head, hoping to look around...

"Oogh..." His head hit the...whatever he was lying on - it felt fluffy, so maybe it was a pillow? - with a small thud and he closed his eyes again. "...okay...no trying to raise up. No raising."

[Colorful Catharsis]

The village elder quietly ground up some herbs as the smoke from his pipe perfumed the air in the tent. The inside of the dwelling was lavish, spoiled even. Pillows littered the area, broken up only by small work spaces filled with spices and herbs. It seemed to be a medicine man's area

The man tied his platinum blonde hair back at the nape of his neck, it's unruly curls still cascading down in his back. He spoke quietly, as if being much louder would expend more energy than he cared to.

"I am Hassan. Elder of this village." he explained. "What were you doing in my sands?" he asked curiously, bringing amber eyes to gaze with interest at the man.

[The Freakshow]

"I am Hassan. Elder of this villiage. What were you doing in my sands?

Wait, what? Damien opened his eyes again and turned to look at whoever had spoken, blinking rapidly. This guy had blonde hair, tanned skin, brown eyes...and pointy ears. Pointy. Ears. What the fuck?

"...Am I hallucinating again?" Ugh, his voice was horrible! It rasped against his ears and made him shudder. He hated this...he really needed a drink. "Wh-where am I....am I dead yet?"

[Colorful Catharsis]

Hassan cocked his head to the side slightly, a soft smile on his lips.

"You're not hallucinating...You're in Melenish...in the Tahir Desert." he responded. "You collapsed outside my village..." he further explained, returning to the grinding of whatever he had. "And now you're in my tent. Any other questions? Or are you not simply satisfied with being alive...?" he asked with a coy smirk.

[The Freakshow]

"...I've got to be hallucinating...no one lives in this desert...it's impossible." The dirty blonde stated, shaking his head slightly. The dizziness wasn't going to bother him much if he raised his head slightly, would he? He tried it...there was a wave of nausea...nothing much. "...can I have something to drink?"

Then a way to get the hell out of this halluciantion? I need to go...well...I can't go back. They'll rape me... Damien frowned at that. He had been a prostitute once, so rape wasn't something he was uncommon to, but...he'd given up that life a long time ago. Back when he'd been nineteen. But, once a whore, always a whore, correct?

"...please...I'm so thirsty..."

[Colorful Catharsis]

Hassan smiled gently, and let out a soft chuckle. It was a musical sound, seeming to have a melody of it's own.

"As crazy as it seems, I do live here. And so do a fair number of other people. Three whole villages in fact." he said, seeming incredulous of the fact himself. He reached near him, retrieving the same wineskin as before and presenting it to him.

"May I ask your name, traveler?" he said, his amber eyes quietly observing him.

[The Freakshow]

The minute he saw that wineskin, Hassan's questions became irrelevant. Damien grabbed the thing so fast, he was pretty sure it might've looked like it disappeared, then started to take huge gulps from it, not even questioning what was inside...which turned out to be something spiced...but in a delicious kind of way. He had drunk a few swallows before he remembered that the other had asked him a question, and he must look like an ungrateful bastard for just taking and taking everything without giving something back.

It took a great amount of willpower to put that wineskin down, but he managed to do it, then gave a slightly forced smile (forced, because he didn't want to stop drinking, dammit). "Damien...Damien Torix...sorry...so thirsty..."

His blue eyes filled with an apologetic air, then he blinked, pausing. Did that guy say he actually...lived here? But no one lived in this place. They couldn't live in the desert.

"...are you actually saying you live here? ...but that's impossible! No one lives here!"

[Colorful Catharsis]

Hassan sighed. "Again...I know it's hard to believe, but yes I live here. Comfortably actually. As do many others." he said, plucking the wineskin from the man's hands.

"It typically helps to bring water and food along..." he added with a bit of humor.

[The Freakshow]

"I didn't plan to come out here." Damien stated defensively, his eyes narrowing. "I didn't even know where I was running...I was just trying to...to escape."

To escape, to get away, to be allowed to live without being raped. It was what the boy wanted.

"I didn't plan on this happening...and I'm still thirsty...sorry...I didn't even know I was going to this place."

[Colorful Catharsis]

Hassan's expression grew stern a moment.

"Are you a wanted man...?" he asked hesitantly. He couldn't have a criminal in his village...no matter how helpless. He couldn't put his people in danger. Regardless, he wouldn't leave him thirsty. It was a cruel thing in the Tahir. He quickly handed back the wineskin, considering the contents gone...knowing how long the poor individual had been out on the desert. He worried though...that was actual spiced wine in the bag...

[The Freakshow]

"Nuh-no..." Damien hiccupped as he said those words, gulping down some more of the wine. Damn, it tasted really good...he knew it was wine now, because of how sweet it tasted... "Nuh-Not w-wanted..." At least, not in the way you're probably thinking... "Th-they were guh-gunna rape me..."

The boy had needed to run, to save himself from that happening again. "I had t-to run...and I g-got lost..."

[Colorful Catharsis]

The dark skinned man's expression grew disinterested, but he continued to speak.

"I see. Well you're very far from any of the cities and towns. Miles even. You're safe. You may stay here." he said, his eyes turning to the tent flap, the harsh sun shining on his facial tattoos. "Should I get you water instead...?" he asked, looking back at Damien.

[The Freakshow]

Water would be nice. This wine was nice-tasting, but he wanted water...Damien desperately needed it. Sure, he liked this spicy wine, but sweet and cool water would be delicious.

"P-please..." The boy begged as he set the wineskin down. "Suh-shuh....sorry..."

[Colorful Catharsis]

Hassan stood, exiting the tent and stepping into the brash sunlight. He seemed unaffected by it, even comfortable in it's warmth. As he stepped, it became noticeable that the man had tied bells to his wrists and ankles...giving him a musical step. The bells had a unique sound...a commanding one. Something of reserved power...

The elder soon returned with another wineskin, this one filled to the brim with water for the traveler, and handed it to him.

"I warn you, you can't drink too much after dehydration...you'll make yourself sick." he informed, lighting another batch of dried herb in his pipe.

[The Freakshow]

"I don't care..." Damien muttered as he drank a few gulps of the cool, refreshing liquid. It felt like forever since he'd last had some water, when it was probably only one day or so. That wasn't very bad. "I'm too thirsty to care...Hassan? Was that what you said your name was?"

If so, that's the freakiest name I've ever heard. It's even weirder than dad's. The blonde boy sighed as he pulled the waterskin away, feeling much better...even if his stomach was rolling. "Could you not smoke, please? I'm trying to break myself of the habit, and seeing you doing it doesn't make it any easier."

Then again, nothing made withdrawl easier. Ugh, why had he given up smoking anyway? He could've kept going with it...pipes, matches and other things were in ample supply...But he'd given it up to make his father and mother happier. What he wouldn't do for one more time, though...

"Please, can you at least let me leave the tent, if you're going to keep doing that? Otherwise I'll rip it from your hand and smoke the whole thing."

[Colorful Catharsis]

Hassan's smile seemed to falter a moment.

"No. And if you touch my pipe I cannot assure your hand will be in the same place it originally was. Learn a little self control." he said, his smile seeming forced now. "Be grateful you live instead of searching your vices. Maybe it's something you can learn while you're in Melenish." he said, finishing his scolding.

"You don't want this any way. It's green herb." he said, pushing down some of the pungent plant.

[The Freakshow]

Sheesh, it's called a joke. Damien thought angrily, his eyes narrowing. Get a sense of humor.

"Guess you don't know the difference between a joke and when someone's being serious. Haven't you ever heard of sarcasm?" The boy's tone was scathing and he reached out to knock his hand against the other male's arm in a sort of mock-slap. "You need to get out of the desert one day and go to a city. You'd probably learn something there."

[Colorful Catharsis]

"Oh...! I'm sorry. It's terribly important to me." he said, his cheery smile returning.

"And no...I'm not fond of the city and it's noise. It wouldn't be wise anyway. My people are commonly enslaved by humans for farming." he informed, bringing the pipe to his lips.

[The Freakshow]

"...commonly enslaved by humans for farming."

Wait...did that mean... "You're an elf? I don't live on farms, so I don't know...I always thought they had a partnership or something." Damien looked apologetic...and wary. "...shouldn't that mean you're going to kill me? I'm a human, after all...or, at least, I was when I last checked." And exactly how did one check for species? Maybe it was the whole ear thing or something. "Shouldn't you be killing me or letting me starve in the desert or something? Like, vengence?"

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