"So she is a shaper," Raina said, watching Aislynn pick her way through a tray of sweet cakes. It was obvious that she had gone without, as every time Raina and her brother both looked away, one of the pastries would disappear entirely. The red-headed young woman had to give credit; there were no crumbs to give away the only possible culprit. It was just Aislynn had the most convincing blank expression.
"Undoubtedly." Zalgus was taking stock of their quarters, pacing the rug and gazing at the view they had from the bay windows. They were surrounded in earthy tones, the siblings seeming to fit right in with the color scheme comfortably.
Another pastry was gone; this time a sweet berry tart.
Raina simply waited for her brother to announce his grand breadth of knowledge of the situation. He was itching to. She could tell by how he kept glancing in her direction with that expectant gaze. Already she had decided she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of asking him about her.
"So your name is Aislynn?" she asked the girl, smiling.
A creme filled cake had vanished from the plate.
"Yes ma'am."
No cake dust fell from the girl's lips. Raina began to wonder if she was swallowing them whole. The look of irritation on her brother's face was quite hilarious, but she pretended to not notice.
"Please, call me Raina," she said, taking a seat in a cushy armchair across from Aislynn. Around the tray were several books, some left open and others shut with a marker holding the place of the reader. "Supper is soon," she continued, failing to hide a smile as Zalgus' impatience grew.
Aislynn placed a hand on her stomach, thinking it might be better to hold off on the sweets then. They were so delicious though! It was like putting clouds on her tongue. Clouds that tasted like flowers looked - vibrant and lovely.
"So can you tell me what happened?"
"I can," Zalgus said a bit more eager than he would have liked. He was relieved that his sister had finally given him an opening to seize hold of the conversation. One had to do it correctly, of course. He held his hand out to his side, stopping Aislynn even as her mouth opened to answer.
He wove the entire tale. Blue streams of light surrounded and trailed behind his movements, casting light against his angular features. There was a peculiar cheer in his tone as he elaborated minor details that would have been no interest to anyone but himself. Namely, how he knew the toy would have been beyond Aislynn's pocket.
"Zalgus," Raina snapped.
"What?"
"Let us not dwell on Aislynn's fortunes--"
"Well it is more of a lack thereof--"
"ZALGUS!"
"-but the trinket-"
"Move on with your story or I will punch you in the mouth and let Aislynn tell it."
A heavy sigh. "Very well."
Aislynn covered her mouth, and her giggles, with both her hands.
The tale progressed, punctuated with several more minor sibling squabbles that got Aislynn giggling all over again. Zalgus paced behind the couch that the girl was perched on, pausing once to pick a slender, crescent shaped crystal from Aislynn's hair. It wasn't woven into the heavy locks, but looked as if it had gotten caught in there at some point. He palmed it, gave a baffled expression to his sister's withering glare, and resumed his stride.
"And now you are worried - excuse me - intrigued because you wonder how some thugs were able to hone in on such an expensive trinket so quickly." Raina had figured it out pretty reasonably; she had grown up with her brother after all.
Zalgus raised one finger and tilted his nose into the air.
"No, I found it suspicious how three illiterate goons could know--" He stopped, and slowly lowered his finger while giving his sister a disappointed huff. She just smiled. "Why must you ruin my fun?"
"Why must you make petty judgements?"
"They are not petty! They are true and insightful!"
"Pithy?" Aislynn offered.
"Yes, thank you--" Zalgus turned sharply to Aislynn, surprised. Not that he considered her stupid, but one living on the streets did not typically have a very broad vocabulary.
"I think I will like having you around if you can make him go silent with one word," Raina said, not bothering to hide her laughter. The look of astonishment on Zalgus' face was too much for her.
"Did I say the word wrong?" Aislynn asked, bewildered. Her cheeks swiftly filled with red, and she fidgeted in her spot. Embarrassed, she turned her head away and focused her gaze on the dark wood table that was stationed next to the door to the hall. It had a clay pot filled with greenery, but no flowers.
"No, you did not... you even used it correctly..."
"Zalgus..." Raina warned. She knew what was coming out of her brother's mouth next.
He opened his mouth as if to retort to his sister's tone, but then seemed to reconsider. He took a moment to ponder his next word choice carefully, not so keen as to have his features marred by a chipped tooth or broken nose.
"Where did you learn that?" Zalgus moved to the front of the couch. The question couldn't be considered insulting, not even by his sister. The hem of his coat fluttered dramatically as the lights of the room caught the lenses of his glasses.
"Oh. I have this." Aislynn rummaged through her satchel sitting at her feet. It was full of random odds and ends, bits of cloth and interestingly shaped stones of broken pottery. From the depths she produced a very worn journal, bound in sheep leather and salvaged bits of twine. It looked like any bit of scrap paper she had got her hands on, she had bleached and patched together.
Zalgus took the book into his hands gingerly. It wasn't so much the dirt as it was the apparent fragility of the item that made him cautious. Claiming the seat next to Aislynn - who scooted to accommodate - the well read young man began to turn the pages.
Each page had sketches, circles around words that had not been bleached out. Little drawings that looked like mouths were connected to each syllable in the words. Each mouth had a different shape, as if demonstrating proper pronunciation. It only took a moment for him to decipher all the strange signs.
"Were you teaching yourself to read like this?" he asked, turning an impressed gaze to the girl.
"Very slowly," she admitted. "It is hard to memorize sounds of each symbol. So I might know a word when I say it, but not when I see it."
"Most children begin that way," Raina said cheerfully. "It is amazing you could teach yourself this. If you would like--"
"I can teach you more," Zalgus interrupted, catching his sister by the blindside. "I have a number of proper books available, and you might learn at a faster rate." She seemed clever enough to pick it up.
"R-really?" Aislynn's eyes widened in delight, and the smile that appeared on her face looked like it might be painful.
"I do not see why not," he answered, thumbing through the journal. "It seems a good way to pass the time as any other, and much more worthy use of my time as well." Reading was one of the most noble pursuits of time, and since she would be travelling with them for some time...
Judging from her manner she was not well traveled at all. It would do to give her some comfort or means to not be a complete liability as they traveled to places with different etiquette and history.
He was consciously ignoring his sister now; it was taking all Raina's will power to not make some type of snide remark. No doubt more for Aislynn's sake than his own. Certainly, for the shaper who could see everything coming, Aislynn was one surprise after another.
Monday, September 29, 2014
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Spirit of Aspiration (Fan Work) {Starts 9/21/14}
"What do you mean? Do you honestly expect me to believe that you could not acquire a mere toy from a child?" The voice was soft, but strict. The sound of a predator displeased with the lack of prey. It filled the hollowness of the room, surrounding and bearing down on the lone, elderly man that stood in the very center of a ring of candle light.
"I sent the three that scare the neighborhood the most," replied the man in monotone. His frame was crippled with age, but his voice was strong and uncaring. "Something went wrong."
"Obviously!" A tall figure strode between two candles. His hair was golden blond, pulled into a ponytail on the top of his head with a ruby clasp. His eagle sharp features bore an expression to match his mood - cold and humorless. "What do they claimed to have happened?"
"The girl who made the toy reappeared, and stirred up the crowd against them."
"Did I not tell them to wait until she was long gone before approaching the child?"
"Master Xavier," the man said, staring straight ahead into the darkness, "when I say she 'reappeared', I mean that literally."
"Clarify." Xavier stalked a circle around his subordinate, fixing him with dark blue eyes. His thin mouth was set in a straight line, apathetic.
"One watched the girl until she was a good two streets over. At that point, a man began to speak with her. It was only then that he returned to his comrades and they hassled the child." The old man's throat pulsed as he swallowed - a moment of weakness in an otherwise emotionless display.
"If that is true, how did she know to return?"
"All I could gather from those who were there is that she came from what appeared to be a cloud of silver light. Most believe her to have walked on moonlight."
Xavier scoffed, his knee high boots scraping to a halt in front of his subordinate, a man whose name he had never bothered to learn. He managed to cool his sneer, transforming it into a rather charismatic smile. Folding one arm across his chest, and resting his elbow on it, Xavier rested a black gloved finger against his temple. The leather was well worn and soft.
"And I am supposed to believe that? How can I be sure that you are not lying to save your worthless hide?" The question was rhetorical, at least for him. Of course he already knew. That's what made him so effective.
"I'm not that stupid, master."
The resulting laugh was both amused and malicious.
"No." Xavier's smile only accented the cruel knife edge of his voice. "You are at least smart enough to protect your own skin."
"Thank you for the condescension."
"So tell me," Xavier continued as he enjoyed the dry, but cold air of the room. He had a fine jacket on, worked with piping and embroidery; his subordinate was clothed in only knee length trousers. This exposed the scars and tattoos from gangs and fights the nameless man had been in since his youth. His moments of strength and all of his weaknesses. "If I have to do everything myself, why do I have you idiots?"
The response was silence, and a minor crease in a heavy brow. The smartest answer that had been given yet. Xavier let the quiet hang, restarting his steady pace around the edge of light. Simple human minds could always come up with more terrifying things than he could; all he had to do was maintain an air of ill intent. It wasn't difficult; Xavier had bad intentions for nearly every being he came across. He finally let his gaze rest from looking at the eyesore before him, turning it instead to the room.
Around the walls, obscured by darkness, were statues that stood five men high. Each had a single distorted feature, the glory of grotesque. Eyes that were not level, or one turned on its side, a nose that was just too high, or too flat, a mouth with no bottom lip, or made of teeth rather than flesh. Lights from candles flickered around the ring, shifting shadows over the imperfections. To the untrained eye, the statues appeared to move, ominously judging any who stood before them.
"Well?" Xavier pressed, clasping his hands behind his back. "Do you have any idea?"
"No, master." No longer monotone, the nameless man's eyes were darting to and fro. Trying to confirm that the statues were indeed lifeless. That he was not truly surrounded by giants.
"Of course you don't." A heavy, beleaguered sigh. "If I did not have you and your peons, I would waste my precious time on far too many worthless things. Your failure is the first step to confirmation. There are several others I will send after my prey, before devoting my personal time to it. I have patience."
"All this for a toy?" The question barely left the nameless one's lips before a searing spike of pain drove into his spine. He collapsed, screaming, to the dirty floor. His body contorted unnaturally. There was a pop. His shoulder wrenched itself out of the socket.
"Not for the toy." Xavier stepped closer to the writhing man, even as coils of blood leaked from the pores in his back. "Your mother should have thrown you away and kept whatever stork brought you. You are beginning to cause stupidity in myself. Why would I have ever thought you could accomplish something? I want the girl. The girl who walks on moonlight."
The nameless one groaned, and then lied still. Before his eyes reeled the faces of those he spoke to on the street. Those whom he had betrayed, crushed, and manipulated. He found one last store of strength to speak.
"If you're looking for a lay so badly you might want to consider the 'cash-in-hand' approach."
The resulting snarl of shock and rage comforted him, even as the pain began anew. There was nothing left for him in this world, and even as his vision was consumed in blood, the nameless one gave up all his notions of pride and accepted his failure. For the first time since he was but a tiny, orphaned boy, the one named Ricario prayed with all his heart to any spirit willing to listen to a monster's plea.
Let the girl flourish. Darkness do not cast yourself on her smile.
"I sent the three that scare the neighborhood the most," replied the man in monotone. His frame was crippled with age, but his voice was strong and uncaring. "Something went wrong."
"Obviously!" A tall figure strode between two candles. His hair was golden blond, pulled into a ponytail on the top of his head with a ruby clasp. His eagle sharp features bore an expression to match his mood - cold and humorless. "What do they claimed to have happened?"
"The girl who made the toy reappeared, and stirred up the crowd against them."
"Did I not tell them to wait until she was long gone before approaching the child?"
"Master Xavier," the man said, staring straight ahead into the darkness, "when I say she 'reappeared', I mean that literally."
"Clarify." Xavier stalked a circle around his subordinate, fixing him with dark blue eyes. His thin mouth was set in a straight line, apathetic.
"One watched the girl until she was a good two streets over. At that point, a man began to speak with her. It was only then that he returned to his comrades and they hassled the child." The old man's throat pulsed as he swallowed - a moment of weakness in an otherwise emotionless display.
"If that is true, how did she know to return?"
"All I could gather from those who were there is that she came from what appeared to be a cloud of silver light. Most believe her to have walked on moonlight."
Xavier scoffed, his knee high boots scraping to a halt in front of his subordinate, a man whose name he had never bothered to learn. He managed to cool his sneer, transforming it into a rather charismatic smile. Folding one arm across his chest, and resting his elbow on it, Xavier rested a black gloved finger against his temple. The leather was well worn and soft.
"And I am supposed to believe that? How can I be sure that you are not lying to save your worthless hide?" The question was rhetorical, at least for him. Of course he already knew. That's what made him so effective.
"I'm not that stupid, master."
The resulting laugh was both amused and malicious.
"No." Xavier's smile only accented the cruel knife edge of his voice. "You are at least smart enough to protect your own skin."
"Thank you for the condescension."
"So tell me," Xavier continued as he enjoyed the dry, but cold air of the room. He had a fine jacket on, worked with piping and embroidery; his subordinate was clothed in only knee length trousers. This exposed the scars and tattoos from gangs and fights the nameless man had been in since his youth. His moments of strength and all of his weaknesses. "If I have to do everything myself, why do I have you idiots?"
The response was silence, and a minor crease in a heavy brow. The smartest answer that had been given yet. Xavier let the quiet hang, restarting his steady pace around the edge of light. Simple human minds could always come up with more terrifying things than he could; all he had to do was maintain an air of ill intent. It wasn't difficult; Xavier had bad intentions for nearly every being he came across. He finally let his gaze rest from looking at the eyesore before him, turning it instead to the room.
Around the walls, obscured by darkness, were statues that stood five men high. Each had a single distorted feature, the glory of grotesque. Eyes that were not level, or one turned on its side, a nose that was just too high, or too flat, a mouth with no bottom lip, or made of teeth rather than flesh. Lights from candles flickered around the ring, shifting shadows over the imperfections. To the untrained eye, the statues appeared to move, ominously judging any who stood before them.
"Well?" Xavier pressed, clasping his hands behind his back. "Do you have any idea?"
"No, master." No longer monotone, the nameless man's eyes were darting to and fro. Trying to confirm that the statues were indeed lifeless. That he was not truly surrounded by giants.
"Of course you don't." A heavy, beleaguered sigh. "If I did not have you and your peons, I would waste my precious time on far too many worthless things. Your failure is the first step to confirmation. There are several others I will send after my prey, before devoting my personal time to it. I have patience."
"All this for a toy?" The question barely left the nameless one's lips before a searing spike of pain drove into his spine. He collapsed, screaming, to the dirty floor. His body contorted unnaturally. There was a pop. His shoulder wrenched itself out of the socket.
"Not for the toy." Xavier stepped closer to the writhing man, even as coils of blood leaked from the pores in his back. "Your mother should have thrown you away and kept whatever stork brought you. You are beginning to cause stupidity in myself. Why would I have ever thought you could accomplish something? I want the girl. The girl who walks on moonlight."
The nameless one groaned, and then lied still. Before his eyes reeled the faces of those he spoke to on the street. Those whom he had betrayed, crushed, and manipulated. He found one last store of strength to speak.
"If you're looking for a lay so badly you might want to consider the 'cash-in-hand' approach."
The resulting snarl of shock and rage comforted him, even as the pain began anew. There was nothing left for him in this world, and even as his vision was consumed in blood, the nameless one gave up all his notions of pride and accepted his failure. For the first time since he was but a tiny, orphaned boy, the one named Ricario prayed with all his heart to any spirit willing to listen to a monster's plea.
Let the girl flourish. Darkness do not cast yourself on her smile.
Friday, September 26, 2014
Spirit of Aspiration (Fan Work) {Starts 9/21/14}
"Yer gunna stahp us, eh?" said the woman. She spit some type of foul liquid onto the ground.
"Sure as sure." Aislynn did not cower even as the three thugs drew themselves up taller. The idleness vanished from their bodies as they cracked joints, growling at her through stained teeth.
Between their shoulders, Aislynn saw into the gathered crowd. There was cloaked figured observing. Blue orbs of light shone from under the cowl, and one hand raised lazily to push up a set of glasses. It seemed Zalgus was watching once more, having found a place that clearly separated him from being squeezed or hassled by the flock around him.
"Go'un, girly," said the thug to Aislynn's left, rubbing his thumb against a jagged scar on his jaw. He stuck his tongue out, running it along his upper lip. "Git'on with it den!"
Aislynn's expression pinched, and a frown appeared. It spoke all the feelings of disappointment her tongue could not form words for. She gazed at the three before her; dressed for a fight, chewing their money away in spit. They had decided long ago that they would step on the backs of others to set themselves higher. That there was nothing they could do to better themselves other than by knocking those around them lower. Snapping or stealing the rungs from others' equally shabby and precarious ladders. A light blinked into existence in her mind - raise up the voices.
"People!" She projected her voice to all watching, lifting her arms up on either side of herself. "Do you hear this? That these three, who have taken what they can from you and your neighbors, seek to steal the one dream that burns bright in this child's heart!"
Zalgus' eyes flashed, stars flittering before him as he felt a fire come to life in his chest. Casting his piercing gaze over the crowd, he saw apprehension begin to melt into uncertainty. But all - from the old man with a broken cane and crooked back, to the young mother with two children of her own on her hips - were transfixed by Aislynn's voice.
"Do you understand?" Aislynn said, taking a single step forward. This prompted the thugs to instinctively step back. Silver lines of smokey light started to seep from the ground under her. "Before he even has a chance to step up, they would grind him into the dirt. Is no one allowed to climb higher? Are you content letting them police your achievements? Dragging all back into the mud along with them? We should wish our children to aspire to better than we had. That all should have the chance to shuffle the deck and re-deal the hand fate started us with!"
Back straightening, Zalgus began to build links to a chain of light beside him. The thugs were showing signs of frail nerves, but he knew better than to expect a brute to succumb to powerful words. They probably only understood half of Aislynn's eloquence, despite the amplification of her spirit. They were going to strike her down; it was all written in the clenched jaws, tensed shoulders, and tightening fists.
Before his chain was complete, the woman with spit stained lips lashed out. She was fast, already in front of the much smaller figure and her fist was a hair's breath from connecting with Aislynn's jaw. It would knock her out in one clean blow, there was not doubt about that.
Aislynn's breath caught, eyes widening as she heard a myriad of cries go up from the crowd in shock and alarm. Just as she felt the rush of air from the oncoming fist, a massive paw of a hand seized hold of her attacker's wrist. The owner was one bear of a man, whose cheerful yellow eyes belied the intimidation of his hulking frame. He was clearly more fond of striking metal than the soft skull of another person. Imposing himself between the thugs and Aislynn, he tossed his catch back into her two comrades.
"Well naw," he said. "Dat ain't nice."
"Dunt ya stert ol'man," growled the scarless male. His pupils were tinged red from his overindulgence in drug-laced spit. "Ya know bett'r den ta git in owr way!"
"Oh, I do," the huge man replied in a quiet voice that did not match his chest. "I steel got da scars from owr last run'en. But, why dunt ya try telling dem?"
Uncertainty had dawned into realization, transforming swiftly into anger and confidence. Every person in the crowd now leveled a disapproving glare on the thugs. Most people had picked up some type of sturdy object - from debris to already cracked pots - and even the old man was waving his broken cane in a two-handed grip.
"We'r sick o' yous tree!"
"Git'oot o' here!"
"Crawl oof a bridge 'n die!"
Each person seemed to radiate a dim, silver light. Together it was quite a sight, stirred up by the impassioned words of one young shaper. The thugs bunched together, back-to-back, spitting and hollering back into the crowd.
"Shuld be shamed o' yirselfs," cried the mother, and her two children punctuated the scolding with YAHS! and two synchronized raspberries.
Aislynn slipped into the crowd as their voices drowned out the protests of the thugs. The big man who defended her was ruffling Adelbert's hair, and hefting him onto one meaty shoulder. To her, she had done all she could - it was up to the people to dispense their own judgement. All she did was rekindle a lost fire.
A hand fell on her shoulder, and she felt something wind its way around her arm, locking at her wrist. A chill passed down her back, and she suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable.
"Well, you do speak the truth," said a familiar voice, "you certainly did stop them. In the most fascinating way."
Looking over, she saw a gold chain coiled along her arm. It immobilized her entire body, wisps of golden dust floating around her. Zalgus lifted his hand away, exposing finer chains trailing from his fingers to feed the larger one keeping her in place. The smile on his face was slightly different now, though his tone remained the same.
"Try not to make a fuss," he said, his glasses reflecting the golden light. "This is just a precaution. I would not want you to vanish on me again."
"W-why?" The chill had passed, but she still felt that terrifying sense of being peeled open. "What do you want?"
"Those with talents that you and I have are targets for others," he answered, looking through her being. "And you, my dear, having no place to live, would be better suited remaining by my side for the foreseeable future." For him, that future was quite some time.
"H-how did you?"
"Please, Miss Aislynn, this alley is not suitable surroundings to hold such intensive and frankly long winded discourse. Come with me, and I will see you fed and comfortable."
"Am I a prisoner?"
Zalgus examined the fear in her face, and how her body was tight against the chain. It was such a contrast to what he had seen previously. She truly was a much more fragile figure than first assumed. Perhaps she gained strength in the defense of and collaborating with others. By herself, she seemed a pale shadow in comparison.
"By no means." Lowering his hand caused the chain on her to shatter away, and instead he offered her his arm in a courtly manner. "Please do me the honor of accompanying me."
Aislynn hesitated, rubbing her arm where the chain had been. It still tingled. Having a bed to sleep in and some food in her stomach was a tempting offer. Even if it was from a man who liked to play with words and ring his phrases around her head until she was dizzy. She was also sure he enjoyed the sport of making her blush and fret. Still, blushing was better than starving and sleeping on the ground.
"O-okay," she said, taking his arm.
"Sure as sure." Aislynn did not cower even as the three thugs drew themselves up taller. The idleness vanished from their bodies as they cracked joints, growling at her through stained teeth.
Between their shoulders, Aislynn saw into the gathered crowd. There was cloaked figured observing. Blue orbs of light shone from under the cowl, and one hand raised lazily to push up a set of glasses. It seemed Zalgus was watching once more, having found a place that clearly separated him from being squeezed or hassled by the flock around him.
"Go'un, girly," said the thug to Aislynn's left, rubbing his thumb against a jagged scar on his jaw. He stuck his tongue out, running it along his upper lip. "Git'on with it den!"
Aislynn's expression pinched, and a frown appeared. It spoke all the feelings of disappointment her tongue could not form words for. She gazed at the three before her; dressed for a fight, chewing their money away in spit. They had decided long ago that they would step on the backs of others to set themselves higher. That there was nothing they could do to better themselves other than by knocking those around them lower. Snapping or stealing the rungs from others' equally shabby and precarious ladders. A light blinked into existence in her mind - raise up the voices.
"People!" She projected her voice to all watching, lifting her arms up on either side of herself. "Do you hear this? That these three, who have taken what they can from you and your neighbors, seek to steal the one dream that burns bright in this child's heart!"
Zalgus' eyes flashed, stars flittering before him as he felt a fire come to life in his chest. Casting his piercing gaze over the crowd, he saw apprehension begin to melt into uncertainty. But all - from the old man with a broken cane and crooked back, to the young mother with two children of her own on her hips - were transfixed by Aislynn's voice.
"Do you understand?" Aislynn said, taking a single step forward. This prompted the thugs to instinctively step back. Silver lines of smokey light started to seep from the ground under her. "Before he even has a chance to step up, they would grind him into the dirt. Is no one allowed to climb higher? Are you content letting them police your achievements? Dragging all back into the mud along with them? We should wish our children to aspire to better than we had. That all should have the chance to shuffle the deck and re-deal the hand fate started us with!"
Back straightening, Zalgus began to build links to a chain of light beside him. The thugs were showing signs of frail nerves, but he knew better than to expect a brute to succumb to powerful words. They probably only understood half of Aislynn's eloquence, despite the amplification of her spirit. They were going to strike her down; it was all written in the clenched jaws, tensed shoulders, and tightening fists.
Before his chain was complete, the woman with spit stained lips lashed out. She was fast, already in front of the much smaller figure and her fist was a hair's breath from connecting with Aislynn's jaw. It would knock her out in one clean blow, there was not doubt about that.
Aislynn's breath caught, eyes widening as she heard a myriad of cries go up from the crowd in shock and alarm. Just as she felt the rush of air from the oncoming fist, a massive paw of a hand seized hold of her attacker's wrist. The owner was one bear of a man, whose cheerful yellow eyes belied the intimidation of his hulking frame. He was clearly more fond of striking metal than the soft skull of another person. Imposing himself between the thugs and Aislynn, he tossed his catch back into her two comrades.
"Well naw," he said. "Dat ain't nice."
"Dunt ya stert ol'man," growled the scarless male. His pupils were tinged red from his overindulgence in drug-laced spit. "Ya know bett'r den ta git in owr way!"
"Oh, I do," the huge man replied in a quiet voice that did not match his chest. "I steel got da scars from owr last run'en. But, why dunt ya try telling dem?"
Uncertainty had dawned into realization, transforming swiftly into anger and confidence. Every person in the crowd now leveled a disapproving glare on the thugs. Most people had picked up some type of sturdy object - from debris to already cracked pots - and even the old man was waving his broken cane in a two-handed grip.
"We'r sick o' yous tree!"
"Git'oot o' here!"
"Crawl oof a bridge 'n die!"
Each person seemed to radiate a dim, silver light. Together it was quite a sight, stirred up by the impassioned words of one young shaper. The thugs bunched together, back-to-back, spitting and hollering back into the crowd.
"Shuld be shamed o' yirselfs," cried the mother, and her two children punctuated the scolding with YAHS! and two synchronized raspberries.
Aislynn slipped into the crowd as their voices drowned out the protests of the thugs. The big man who defended her was ruffling Adelbert's hair, and hefting him onto one meaty shoulder. To her, she had done all she could - it was up to the people to dispense their own judgement. All she did was rekindle a lost fire.
A hand fell on her shoulder, and she felt something wind its way around her arm, locking at her wrist. A chill passed down her back, and she suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable.
"Well, you do speak the truth," said a familiar voice, "you certainly did stop them. In the most fascinating way."
Looking over, she saw a gold chain coiled along her arm. It immobilized her entire body, wisps of golden dust floating around her. Zalgus lifted his hand away, exposing finer chains trailing from his fingers to feed the larger one keeping her in place. The smile on his face was slightly different now, though his tone remained the same.
"Try not to make a fuss," he said, his glasses reflecting the golden light. "This is just a precaution. I would not want you to vanish on me again."
"W-why?" The chill had passed, but she still felt that terrifying sense of being peeled open. "What do you want?"
"Those with talents that you and I have are targets for others," he answered, looking through her being. "And you, my dear, having no place to live, would be better suited remaining by my side for the foreseeable future." For him, that future was quite some time.
"H-how did you?"
"Please, Miss Aislynn, this alley is not suitable surroundings to hold such intensive and frankly long winded discourse. Come with me, and I will see you fed and comfortable."
"Am I a prisoner?"
Zalgus examined the fear in her face, and how her body was tight against the chain. It was such a contrast to what he had seen previously. She truly was a much more fragile figure than first assumed. Perhaps she gained strength in the defense of and collaborating with others. By herself, she seemed a pale shadow in comparison.
"By no means." Lowering his hand caused the chain on her to shatter away, and instead he offered her his arm in a courtly manner. "Please do me the honor of accompanying me."
Aislynn hesitated, rubbing her arm where the chain had been. It still tingled. Having a bed to sleep in and some food in her stomach was a tempting offer. Even if it was from a man who liked to play with words and ring his phrases around her head until she was dizzy. She was also sure he enjoyed the sport of making her blush and fret. Still, blushing was better than starving and sleeping on the ground.
"O-okay," she said, taking his arm.
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Spirit of Aspiration (Fan Work) {Starts on 9/21/14}
As he shadowed his target, Zalgus attempted to read everything about her from her manner and stride. She had a confident, but soft, step - a stride of one who enjoyed who she was but didn't want to draw the ire of others. People around seemed to react to her presence subconsciously - talking louder, gesturing more earnestly, and resolving themselves to a knife edge precision. The girl must be a shaper, and confirmation to that effect came when he saw a fox-like face with owl eyes peer out at him from the woman's brunette hair.
"Excuse me!" His voice, elegant and refined as it was, prompted the spirit to hide as the target stopped. She turned, one hand automatically moving to her satchel.
"Me?" she asked, shifting to face him fully. The position of her feet gave her a balanced pose to initiate running should the cloaked man who called to her prove less than friendly.
"Of course you," Zalgus replied with an exasperated sigh. "There is hardly any else here who would prove even a quarter so intriguing."
A blush splashed across the girl's pale cheeks, only partially obscured by a dusting of dirt and soot. Her expression became unsure, perhaps a bit timid as Zalgus fought to suppress a grin. No need to intimidate her, and scaring her would be counter productive. He tossed his hood back, letting the light shimmer over his copper hair.
"Well then, now that I have your attention, do tell me your name," he said, stepping up alongside the girl. He had quite a height advantage on her, so he adjusted his stance to not make her feel like he was looming over her. "I am well equipped to create some sort of clever name for you myself, however--"
"Aislynn." The girl's answer came quickly, not at all keen to be given a nickname by this man. He certainly looked affluent enough, and his manner of twisting words left her on edge and mildly lost in the sounds. He certainly didn't look malicious though, but he definitely was not from around here.
"Aislynn," he repeated. Though the syllables were foreign on his tongue, the name suited her. "My name is Zalgus."
"Zalgoose?"
He flinched at the slight mispronunciation; somehow it felt like an insult. A crude mutation of his name to mock him.
"Zal-gus." He used a firm tone, slowing his speech.
"Z-zalgus."
"Spot on." He brushed his cloak smooth to regain his stature. Aislynn's deer-like expression told him that she had not done it on purpose, but he could not help but feel slightly ruffled. Raina better not discover that name.
"Is there sommat I can help you with?" Aislynn still looked confused, and the harsher accent of the people around them developed into her words swiftly. She swallowed, trying to sink the accent in her stomach.
"I saw you give that boy his gift." Zalgus noticed the accent she hadn't exposed previously. "I cannot help but wonder how you came about such a trinket. It is clearly well made, beyond your means."
"I made it."
"Even the materials would be beyond your purse, my dear."
"Made those too... cepting the eyes. I found dose."
Zalgus examined the girl carefully. She was far more clever than she was acting, and as she became flustered it was clear she let it get to her far more than she should. Though, she was not lying to him.
"How curious," he said, folding his arms across his chest. "Could I then commission you? Your work is certainly extraordinary. I can pay you well."
Aislynn shifted on her weight, scuffing the ball of her foot against the ground. She wasn't sure what denying this stranger - Zalgus - would bring on her. Maybe if she could make him understand.
"There wudunt be a point."
"Oh?" Zalgus' eyebrow arched up. Now he was curious; Aislynn wouldn't dare lie to him. "Do go on."
Worrying her lip, Aislynn turned her head back in the direction of the boy. The silver of her eyes seemed to illuminate, making it so only the vibrant red of her lips and the gentle curve of her nose was obvious.
"Adelbert wants to breed hunting hounds when he grows," she said, the light bleeding away from her eyes.
"I see. So the toy you made for him was of a breeder."
"Yes. He wants to breed hounds so strong, smart, and loyal, that all the richest of the lands would see him." As her excitement and pride grew, Aislynn's accent smoothed, and her word choice flourished.
"So, why make him a toy?"
"When I first met him, he was convinced that his dream would never come to be." Aislynn sighed, running a hand through her hair, rustling the heavy locks. "He is only six! How can one so young already be burdened with so much despair?"
"And now, with something as simple as a handmade doll from a woman he barely knows, Adelbert believes he can change his fate."
"Achieve his fate."
"Ah, clever re-imagining of the situation."
Aislynn smiled. It was so simple and clear. There were no hundreds of little signs - postures, looks, minor facial twitches - that Zalgus could read to divulge what she truly meant. All because she was offering her meaning willfully. It was both comforting and unsettling.
He admitted to himself that he was rather enjoying her company. She was unassuming, not well cultured, but she held a quiet, natural elegance hiding behind her bumbling enthusiasm. Even more-so, she was a shaper - that alone made the very world a more dangerous place for her to exist in. He was sure someone was already hunting for her, but he would wait to pursue that in a more secure location.
"Well Miss Aislynn," he said, tilting himself into a shallow bow, "I thank you for such invigorating conversation. Might I be so bold as to request you accompany me back to my lodging? I feel I would find myself swiftly amiss should we part ways."
Aislynn was blushing again, and she knew it. She tugged her heavy scarf over her lower face, trying to hide it. He acted very casual in his polite manners, yet his eyes spoke to an intensity that belied his tone. Still, she maintained her opinion that he was not malicious. He just had a very powerful presence, and he knew how to use it.
"I -- Uhm --" Aislynn's attention and focus diffused, scattering amidst the spotty torchlight. There was a ringing in her chest. It reached to the very tips of her extremities, soundless, but insistent. To her, a river of silver - like stardust - wound its way through the shadows on the street. To her great alarm, it sped up as it crested over the small corner where she had left Adelbert playing.
"Miss Aislynn?"
She heard the inquiry, but already Zalgus' voice was fading away. Instead, strange voices were crowding her head. They were garbled at first, but focused as she drew her attention to the spirit hiding within her.
Taunting, arrogant, and cold voices.
Little boy -- give it up--- fetch pretty price--commund-- wot ya gunna do ta stahp us?
"Nothing," Aislynn said, emerging from a cloud of moonlight in front of Adelbert. "Because I will stop you."
The little boy had been huddled to a wall, desperately hiding the toy against his chest. Straw colored hair was plastered to his forehead, hiding fear-filled eyes. Three brutes, two men one woman, stood around Aislynn now. The shock on their ruddy faces turned to anger. They stood at least a half-foot taller than her, but she held her ground, silver light suffused through all her limbs.
"Stand off or I will make you," Aislynn said, moving her left hand and surrounding Adelbert in her light.
The entire street was bright as day, but softer. People scuttled to get away from the quickly brewing fight. Silence resounded through every soul in attendance; all attention was now on the three thugs and the waif-figured girl who was in their way.
"Excuse me!" His voice, elegant and refined as it was, prompted the spirit to hide as the target stopped. She turned, one hand automatically moving to her satchel.
"Me?" she asked, shifting to face him fully. The position of her feet gave her a balanced pose to initiate running should the cloaked man who called to her prove less than friendly.
"Of course you," Zalgus replied with an exasperated sigh. "There is hardly any else here who would prove even a quarter so intriguing."
A blush splashed across the girl's pale cheeks, only partially obscured by a dusting of dirt and soot. Her expression became unsure, perhaps a bit timid as Zalgus fought to suppress a grin. No need to intimidate her, and scaring her would be counter productive. He tossed his hood back, letting the light shimmer over his copper hair.
"Well then, now that I have your attention, do tell me your name," he said, stepping up alongside the girl. He had quite a height advantage on her, so he adjusted his stance to not make her feel like he was looming over her. "I am well equipped to create some sort of clever name for you myself, however--"
"Aislynn." The girl's answer came quickly, not at all keen to be given a nickname by this man. He certainly looked affluent enough, and his manner of twisting words left her on edge and mildly lost in the sounds. He certainly didn't look malicious though, but he definitely was not from around here.
"Aislynn," he repeated. Though the syllables were foreign on his tongue, the name suited her. "My name is Zalgus."
"Zalgoose?"
He flinched at the slight mispronunciation; somehow it felt like an insult. A crude mutation of his name to mock him.
"Zal-gus." He used a firm tone, slowing his speech.
"Z-zalgus."
"Spot on." He brushed his cloak smooth to regain his stature. Aislynn's deer-like expression told him that she had not done it on purpose, but he could not help but feel slightly ruffled. Raina better not discover that name.
"Is there sommat I can help you with?" Aislynn still looked confused, and the harsher accent of the people around them developed into her words swiftly. She swallowed, trying to sink the accent in her stomach.
"I saw you give that boy his gift." Zalgus noticed the accent she hadn't exposed previously. "I cannot help but wonder how you came about such a trinket. It is clearly well made, beyond your means."
"I made it."
"Even the materials would be beyond your purse, my dear."
"Made those too... cepting the eyes. I found dose."
Zalgus examined the girl carefully. She was far more clever than she was acting, and as she became flustered it was clear she let it get to her far more than she should. Though, she was not lying to him.
"How curious," he said, folding his arms across his chest. "Could I then commission you? Your work is certainly extraordinary. I can pay you well."
Aislynn shifted on her weight, scuffing the ball of her foot against the ground. She wasn't sure what denying this stranger - Zalgus - would bring on her. Maybe if she could make him understand.
"There wudunt be a point."
"Oh?" Zalgus' eyebrow arched up. Now he was curious; Aislynn wouldn't dare lie to him. "Do go on."
Worrying her lip, Aislynn turned her head back in the direction of the boy. The silver of her eyes seemed to illuminate, making it so only the vibrant red of her lips and the gentle curve of her nose was obvious.
"Adelbert wants to breed hunting hounds when he grows," she said, the light bleeding away from her eyes.
"I see. So the toy you made for him was of a breeder."
"Yes. He wants to breed hounds so strong, smart, and loyal, that all the richest of the lands would see him." As her excitement and pride grew, Aislynn's accent smoothed, and her word choice flourished.
"So, why make him a toy?"
"When I first met him, he was convinced that his dream would never come to be." Aislynn sighed, running a hand through her hair, rustling the heavy locks. "He is only six! How can one so young already be burdened with so much despair?"
"And now, with something as simple as a handmade doll from a woman he barely knows, Adelbert believes he can change his fate."
"Achieve his fate."
"Ah, clever re-imagining of the situation."
Aislynn smiled. It was so simple and clear. There were no hundreds of little signs - postures, looks, minor facial twitches - that Zalgus could read to divulge what she truly meant. All because she was offering her meaning willfully. It was both comforting and unsettling.
He admitted to himself that he was rather enjoying her company. She was unassuming, not well cultured, but she held a quiet, natural elegance hiding behind her bumbling enthusiasm. Even more-so, she was a shaper - that alone made the very world a more dangerous place for her to exist in. He was sure someone was already hunting for her, but he would wait to pursue that in a more secure location.
"Well Miss Aislynn," he said, tilting himself into a shallow bow, "I thank you for such invigorating conversation. Might I be so bold as to request you accompany me back to my lodging? I feel I would find myself swiftly amiss should we part ways."
Aislynn was blushing again, and she knew it. She tugged her heavy scarf over her lower face, trying to hide it. He acted very casual in his polite manners, yet his eyes spoke to an intensity that belied his tone. Still, she maintained her opinion that he was not malicious. He just had a very powerful presence, and he knew how to use it.
"I -- Uhm --" Aislynn's attention and focus diffused, scattering amidst the spotty torchlight. There was a ringing in her chest. It reached to the very tips of her extremities, soundless, but insistent. To her, a river of silver - like stardust - wound its way through the shadows on the street. To her great alarm, it sped up as it crested over the small corner where she had left Adelbert playing.
"Miss Aislynn?"
She heard the inquiry, but already Zalgus' voice was fading away. Instead, strange voices were crowding her head. They were garbled at first, but focused as she drew her attention to the spirit hiding within her.
Taunting, arrogant, and cold voices.
Little boy -- give it up--- fetch pretty price--commund-- wot ya gunna do ta stahp us?
"Nothing," Aislynn said, emerging from a cloud of moonlight in front of Adelbert. "Because I will stop you."
The little boy had been huddled to a wall, desperately hiding the toy against his chest. Straw colored hair was plastered to his forehead, hiding fear-filled eyes. Three brutes, two men one woman, stood around Aislynn now. The shock on their ruddy faces turned to anger. They stood at least a half-foot taller than her, but she held her ground, silver light suffused through all her limbs.
"Stand off or I will make you," Aislynn said, moving her left hand and surrounding Adelbert in her light.
The entire street was bright as day, but softer. People scuttled to get away from the quickly brewing fight. Silence resounded through every soul in attendance; all attention was now on the three thugs and the waif-figured girl who was in their way.
Monday, September 22, 2014
Spirit of Aspiration (Fan Work) {starts on 9/21/14}
"Alright then," replied the nineteen or so year old girl. She reached into a large, very travel worn leather satchel and removed a bundle of cloth. Unrolling it in her hands, she exposed a soft doll made of a rather nice material. It seemed to have a high thread count, certainly something unaffordable by the people in the area, including the girl herself. Her clothing spoke of a one who spent much time on her feet, made for comfort, flexibility, and certainly affordability.
Zalgus lifted an eyebrow and took a step closer still, taking in the appearance of the doll. It was dressed in scraps of fur, and appeared to have a thick, heavy glove on one hand. The yarn hair was all pulled together into a high ponytail. It was certainly an interesting thing to behold.
"Ooohh-woooooooowwww~" squealed the boy, bouncing around in circles as he hugged the toy to his chest. His sandals clopped heavily against the stone, obviously at least a size too large for his small feet. "So so so amazing!"
"Take very good care of him," the girl reminded him, causing the child to sober and bow to her respectfully. Though the smile on his face was still threatening to split his head right in half. "Take care now."
"Bye bye Miss! Thank you so much!"
Zalgus stepped forward into the light as the girl made her way away from him, waving at what appeared to be random people in the street and gifting them with that smile of hers. He stopped next to the boy, who was already playing with the doll, using a deeper tone that cracked occasionally. In barely a blink, his eyes illuminated blue, taking in the doll and all the characteristics of it. Well made, surprising quality of materials used. The eyes were small stones that had a swirl of amethyst rock inside of them.
Although he would probably never admit it, even to himself, Zalgus found that he was admiring the intensive care and passion put into making what ended up being given away as a child's plaything. His gaze lifted to the departing figure of the woman once more.
He had to know more. Pulling his cowl closer over his head, the intelligent and well read man struck off at a brisk pace after his quarry. He only wondered for a moment what his sister would say if she ever discovered him chasing after some common born girl down a tiny side street.
Zalgus lifted an eyebrow and took a step closer still, taking in the appearance of the doll. It was dressed in scraps of fur, and appeared to have a thick, heavy glove on one hand. The yarn hair was all pulled together into a high ponytail. It was certainly an interesting thing to behold.
"Ooohh-woooooooowwww~" squealed the boy, bouncing around in circles as he hugged the toy to his chest. His sandals clopped heavily against the stone, obviously at least a size too large for his small feet. "So so so amazing!"
"Take very good care of him," the girl reminded him, causing the child to sober and bow to her respectfully. Though the smile on his face was still threatening to split his head right in half. "Take care now."
"Bye bye Miss! Thank you so much!"
Zalgus stepped forward into the light as the girl made her way away from him, waving at what appeared to be random people in the street and gifting them with that smile of hers. He stopped next to the boy, who was already playing with the doll, using a deeper tone that cracked occasionally. In barely a blink, his eyes illuminated blue, taking in the doll and all the characteristics of it. Well made, surprising quality of materials used. The eyes were small stones that had a swirl of amethyst rock inside of them.
Although he would probably never admit it, even to himself, Zalgus found that he was admiring the intensive care and passion put into making what ended up being given away as a child's plaything. His gaze lifted to the departing figure of the woman once more.
He had to know more. Pulling his cowl closer over his head, the intelligent and well read man struck off at a brisk pace after his quarry. He only wondered for a moment what his sister would say if she ever discovered him chasing after some common born girl down a tiny side street.
Sunday, September 21, 2014
(START) The Spirit of Aspiration (Fan Work)
Why his spirit showed him the image of this forsaken alleyway was beyond The Loremaster. There had been no movement in his vision, no people drawn in the lines of stars before his eyes. But now that he stepped through the fire lit stonework, it seemed alive with people desperate to retain their wills to live. To him, it was as if life itself was a struggle, the weight of it bowing the shoulders of every person, even the children, that he saw.
His nose wrinkled as the smell of the poor and suffering flooded his senses, threatening to make his eyes tear. That would be undignified, so he simply removed his glasses to clean them with a handkerchief he produced from within the folds of his cloak. His attention was waylaid from his own discomfort by a sudden giggle from a child, a foreign sound in a place that seemed to be full to bursting of low-toned, faded voices.
There was a young woman, her smile so bright it seemed to illuminate the faces of those near her, especially that of the boy she spoke to, who was mirroring her smile with buck teeth. He was perhaps six, judging on the baby fat still prominent on his face. The woman had her hands on her knees, so sweeps of brown hair floated around her face, and her eyes mimicked the full moon that filled the sky with light above them.
Zalgus stepped closer, pulling his hands under his cloak to listen to what was being said. It was strange. In this space the oppressive air of despair and fatigue was lighter, as if being held at bay. Zalgus could almost see the very line drawn on the poorly maintained roadwork.
"Do you promise you'll take good care of it?" the girl was asking, crinkling her nose in jest and cheer. "I worked very hard on it you know."
"I promise, I promise! I'll take very good care of it! Sure as sure I will~!" The boy was vibrating in place he was so excited.
His nose wrinkled as the smell of the poor and suffering flooded his senses, threatening to make his eyes tear. That would be undignified, so he simply removed his glasses to clean them with a handkerchief he produced from within the folds of his cloak. His attention was waylaid from his own discomfort by a sudden giggle from a child, a foreign sound in a place that seemed to be full to bursting of low-toned, faded voices.
There was a young woman, her smile so bright it seemed to illuminate the faces of those near her, especially that of the boy she spoke to, who was mirroring her smile with buck teeth. He was perhaps six, judging on the baby fat still prominent on his face. The woman had her hands on her knees, so sweeps of brown hair floated around her face, and her eyes mimicked the full moon that filled the sky with light above them.
Zalgus stepped closer, pulling his hands under his cloak to listen to what was being said. It was strange. In this space the oppressive air of despair and fatigue was lighter, as if being held at bay. Zalgus could almost see the very line drawn on the poorly maintained roadwork.
"Do you promise you'll take good care of it?" the girl was asking, crinkling her nose in jest and cheer. "I worked very hard on it you know."
"I promise, I promise! I'll take very good care of it! Sure as sure I will~!" The boy was vibrating in place he was so excited.
Friday, September 19, 2014
Timid Voice (Test)
He's so intent and focused on what he's doing that it's like he doesn't even notice that he has his own personal cheer-leading committee. Freyja leaned against the wall, tilting her head to peer out the window into the courtyard below. He sat on the bench with his elbows resting on his knees and his chin resting against folded hands. It looked like he was trying to sear a hole through a near by pink tebebuia tree. Three girls with varying levels of curves hovered around him, chatting to each other over or through him.
It was just a little crush. Freyja understood that in order to even have a chance, she'd need to talk to Matthias. She couldn't just sit around and day dream that perhaps he'd just stumble upon her one day and fall madly in love. Would he ever as her for help with homework? No, he was nearly the top of their class. Perhaps to spar for training? Never, he was intent on training alone or with one of the instructors.
Swallowing her disappointment at herself, Freyja pulled her honey colored hair out of her face and shook her head. Admiring from a distance was, for now, the best she could hope for, since those girls would become an immediate shield should she even try to approach Matthias.
She was short. She was flat and straight. She had not-perfectly straightened hair that was normally pulled into pigtails, and green eyes that were just too green. Her father was weird, and she herself was such a poser.
Freyja had heard it all before, more times than she could count. Still, sometimes when she passed him in the hall or sat in the same class, she felt like that steady, shockingly dark gaze of his was fixated on her frequently.
But, like her day dreams, she was probably just imagining it.
It was just a little crush. Freyja understood that in order to even have a chance, she'd need to talk to Matthias. She couldn't just sit around and day dream that perhaps he'd just stumble upon her one day and fall madly in love. Would he ever as her for help with homework? No, he was nearly the top of their class. Perhaps to spar for training? Never, he was intent on training alone or with one of the instructors.
Swallowing her disappointment at herself, Freyja pulled her honey colored hair out of her face and shook her head. Admiring from a distance was, for now, the best she could hope for, since those girls would become an immediate shield should she even try to approach Matthias.
She was short. She was flat and straight. She had not-perfectly straightened hair that was normally pulled into pigtails, and green eyes that were just too green. Her father was weird, and she herself was such a poser.
Freyja had heard it all before, more times than she could count. Still, sometimes when she passed him in the hall or sat in the same class, she felt like that steady, shockingly dark gaze of his was fixated on her frequently.
But, like her day dreams, she was probably just imagining it.
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