Jessie
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Post by Jessie on Apr 21, 2012 19:48:52 GMT -5
Ahlix shook his head, pointing to and from as the gestures continued, even some as he poked his own stomach for examples.
"The Dragon breed are much different in anatomy. Their teeth are wrenched, their necks are like metallic tubes, and their stomach is that of the very dungeon the treasure lies. It isn't as squishie as our very own, there a shred of metal could tear us open, very well killing us," he carried on as casually as he always seem to, even through the more gruesome details. Some would snicker to hear the Prophet to account to such a vocabulary as squishie, but even he had an insight for humor.
"And through the minerals, is what makes the strongest of wing, the scales portraying that of the mineral, like steel shields, but natural."
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Post by Classy Womanizer on Apr 21, 2012 20:55:51 GMT -5
"wow! Amazing!" he said still in awe, he was surprised that dragons were so strong. But to be made of metal! it was a thought new to him.
(i'm running low here, i don't know how to respond to stories xD)
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Post by Jessie on Apr 21, 2012 21:07:18 GMT -5
The day turned to dusk, and the sun turned to the midnight blue fusion across the oranges that highlighted the sky, nightfall well on its' way. With a story being told, as promised, and tracks being made, as intended, so far, this trip was well on its' way. The border of Namos sat well upon the horizon, the different shift of greens within the trees visible now - to one who could see. But still a mile or two off in the distance.
"We shall camp here," Ahlix stated promptly, halting in his tracks in the plains, crooked smile in place. "Too close to the border, and we may find ourselves in for unwanted treats during rest. I take that you can handle a fire for light and our meal?" he inquired, taking a sack from his side as he placed it onto the ground, withdrawing that of packaged sea life that had been stow in some type of canteen, probably to keep it fresh from the heat.
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Post by Classy Womanizer on Apr 21, 2012 21:13:46 GMT -5
Puck's eyes became ablaze with eagerness.
"Sure!" he gathered sticks and logs for the fir in a well built stack, then cupped his hands and a small ember began to glow of his hand, dancing back and forth across his fingers in an amazing spark. He then flicks his finger and casts the entire stack ablaze, all with a huge grin.
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Post by Jessie on Apr 21, 2012 21:21:28 GMT -5
The gust of heat lit against the Elf's skin as he sat down promptly, performing that of Indian style as he did. Retrieving from the packaging, he pulled out two kabob-like sticks, thrusting the Rosewood utensil through the raw fish, and handing it over to the Sprite. He did the same with his meal, leaving his bag along his side as he dangled the sea matter over the fire.
"So, Starling. I've shared quite the tale. What is one of your larger folklore?" the strange man asked. Surely, Puck had expressed all sorts of small tales, that of how he obtained a lot of his goodies and pocket change. But he had yet had heard that of a story that included his own travels, rather than purchases.
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Post by Classy Womanizer on Apr 21, 2012 21:55:46 GMT -5
Puck smiled and crouched low to the ground and smirked.
"Let me tell you the tail of the gilded caterpillar! There one was a caterpillar, many ages ago. He has a ferocious appetite. He loved leaves, especially the bright golden ones. He ate every day, planning to become a beautiful butterfly. But soon, he became gluttonous and began to eat other caterpillar's leaves and flowers to! Even though young caterpillars are taught not to eat flowers. He became so hungry, he would eat other caterpillars!"
He brought his hand together to make a chomping jaw.
"H even ate the caterpillar of his dreams. he begged for death, but instead, Aedai made him live, and he did go into his cocoon to change to the butter fly. And when he emerged he was a beautiful being, each of his wings had all the colors of the other caterpillars he had eaten. But the thing was, is he could still hear their tiny voices, begging him to stop.
But he did fly, his jeweled wings a warning to other young caterpillars!"
He said this all with a smile, though it was a truly sad story, Puck couldn't grasp the sorrow, or so it seemed, he had a bowed head but he still smiled, his eyes showing a less bright a sheen.
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Post by Jessie on Apr 21, 2012 23:32:25 GMT -5
Ahlix placed his full attention to the Sprite as he shared his tale, one that had quite the twist that the Elf had not originally expected from such a free spirit. After every few sentences, he would take a small bite from his now-cooked fish, blinded eyes still set on that of Puck, the visual in his mind of the sound effects and movements of his arms projecting into the Prophet's head.
He nodded at some points, letting Puck aware that he was indeed listening. Though, at the closure of the story, which had its' own moral, a sense of distraught caught the attention of the Mutt, his crooked smile still standing high, but his curiosity of such manner, itching the back of his skull.
"A lovely tale, Starling. You will make a better Bard yet," he complimented, taking another nip of his meal before continuing, raising a bent arm to his side, "Much more of a Ballad, would you say? To have lived knowing that you hold the truth behind others' misfortune?"
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Post by Classy Womanizer on Apr 21, 2012 23:46:14 GMT -5
"probably..." he said, his energy changed from an outward smile to an inward thought full smile. Puck felt something...he couldn't describe, but he didn't know what to think of it. He wanted to...not smile...but he did any way....
He looked over at the man and smirked, an almost painful one.
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Post by Jessie on Apr 21, 2012 23:54:15 GMT -5
At the solemn response, it only caused the itch in the back of the Prophet's head to increase, the kindness of the creature and his company, now becoming concerning as there was a different tension in the air. Something was... unsettling.
"...You wail a low tune, have you lost a feather?" the man raised a brow, his smile now fading to that of a stern frown, his attention directed at Puck. Placing his remaining meal on a rock that sat not too far off in front of him, nearing the fire, he bundled his arms once again into the barrier of his cloak, awaiting the mans' response. "Sprite's are not known to exist lonely or harmed, yet you can relate to the caterpillar. It is only expected to exist you carry your own misfortunes, as they happen to the best of us." The Prophet paused a moment, as if to think to himself of any personal experiences. "...It all depends on the crow, rather or not they allow these choices to clip their wings, or to grow back that of lost, and replenish it with gain. If one doddles too far into history, they become locked, a caged bird singing a lonely tune. Only the ones who try, have a chance escaping this cage, able to fly free again amongst the wind and others."
Surely, it may have been out of his position to spare the Sprite with such a lecture. But being fairly known with the Sprites and their intellect, if Ahlix could remember right, they weren't too much for any negative emotions. And even if so, it was too complex for the fragile lifeforms.
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Post by Classy Womanizer on Apr 22, 2012 0:00:38 GMT -5
His face still smiled its sad soft smile.
"Can one not experience the joy that comes from sorrow of its own? " he asked suddenly in a surprisingly serious tone. "The joy of a son old enough to roam, but the sorrow of his leave. The joy of a sad story brought to close, but the happiness of its meaning. I wish to stop smiling, but i can't. MY face forever a prison to that which my own race binds me..." He sighed, his pained smile still true
"I wish to let forth the tears i have always wanted, to cry in passioneit rage at the top of my lungs, to feel the fear that grips the heart. I am but a shell of a person..." he looked at the man, his eyes pools of unattainable emotion, as if water behind a glass tank, waiting to let the ocean in.
Puck wanted the emotions of the world, but all he felt was the sicking happiness of his people.
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Post by Jessie on Apr 22, 2012 0:09:37 GMT -5
Ears intently listening, the taller man understood completely where the younger was coming from. Not only did he hold a much similar issue, but he was not bound by the Sprite's logic. It was a faint night where the moon didn't shine, would the Blind Prophet ever express anything that was uneasy.
"You wish to feel pain? The sorrow of lost, dismay of defeat, the rage of envy?" It was quite unusual for a Sprite to loath such request, and by the mourn of Puck's voice, despite the nameless smile that meant nothing more than a motion to Ahlix, it was obvious enough that being happy your entire life, one was never... always happy.
"Tell me, young Starling, what do you wish to cry for? To hate? For what reasons does one want to become so balanced like the rest, yet risk in the option of falling victim to these spare emotions?"
Turning his head back to the dancing flames, illuminating the night that surrounded the two, he continued forth, "Not to say singing a happy tune is the best joy one could have, but to risk the destruction of falling damned to that of sorrow or anger, it's much more dangerous than a sad smile."
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Post by Classy Womanizer on Apr 22, 2012 0:15:05 GMT -5
Puck nodded at the question.
"Is it not worth the risk of climbing the tallest mountain if to not see the world in all its majesty? To roam the land and all of its dangers to see the truth behind it? As some one who can't feel any thing, it is worth the risk of every thing, because what is every thing if you have nothing?" he asked this all to the prophet and himself.
Puck had always been defrent than the other sprites, he had seemed less fun to them, but it must have been this very reason that it was so. Most sprite do not really have to deal with the sorrow of loss, but Puck had only lived long enough to remember his mother and her beauty, her tall legs and long brown hair. Just enough to love, just enough to hurt.
"Its like having all the urge to speak but none of the words. All of the creativity to paint, but no paints themselves."
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Post by Jessie on Apr 22, 2012 0:25:32 GMT -5
The Prophet sat quietly, taking in the cry of the Sprite and his hypothetical questionnaire. Some questions even those that Ahlix had once asked himself, long ago in the past. Yet emotions themselves had become so stale to his knowledge, he couldn't fully relate. He may have pulled off a smile of his own, and mockery for that of teasing and spiting others.
But really, it was due to the madness locked within that was never displayed, and never will be. The defiance of the Nymph within him, and the urge to roam from that of his Porter descendent. Still to this day, he held that crooked smile, and the alias of the Blind Prophet, going without any spare emotions.
"There is no one to stop you from climbing, nor roam. And to say you feel nothing is quite the contraer, as you do have feelings, or else you wouldn't sing such a low tune. Simply showcasing this, and expressing the attention towards these emotions- they do exist. However, bound by the chains of Aedai and its' mayhem, these adaptations since birth have you locked. But nothing is stopping you from breaking these chains with an Iron Claw."
While he was not looking in the direction of telling Puck to rebel, it was more of a gesture to take the higher initiative. To take the culture of the Sprites he was born with, and expand, to become his own individual. He wanted to cry, what would stop him? If he wanted to hurt, and the pain was there, then why not hurt?
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Post by Classy Womanizer on Apr 22, 2012 0:32:26 GMT -5
"If it were so easy i would have already cried I, even now, feel happy, but i know i wish to feel sad. I wish to hat e this for i know i want to, but instead i am only happy." It was so confusing for Puck because he was able to know he wanted the emotions, but he never could bring himself to be unhappy.
He looked at the Prophet.
"I think as part of my goal to be a Bard, i will one day learn to cry." he said this a determined smile.
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Post by Jessie on Apr 22, 2012 11:47:33 GMT -5
The jumble of words and emotions startled Ahlix, unable to really comply as the Sprite had spoken too fast for his understanding, tilting his head lightly to the side as he truthfully attempted. But as the voice began to slow and the spark of life known as the Sprite's heart came to a pace, a soft smile perched the Elvaan's lips.
"A challenge indeed... But for now, you should probably rest. We have few days ahead of us, and Namos is not a lovely stroll."
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