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Posted: Sun Nov 16, 2008 9:53 pm
It was early morning and the sun had already done it’s work to break apart the lingering fog that had blanketed the caravan that morning but had done nothing to fix the irksome problem of the damp grass. As a way to shun the sun for ignoring it’s duties, Fidel had blocked it off entirely with a pastel-purple parasol. The Aishe blonde was not in an agreeable mood, which often spelled trouble in the long run. There was no one up early this morning that he could keep as company for this early morning walk. He huffed his displeasure to the passing breeze as he tiptoed through the grass across the slopping field, trying his best to make as little contact with the wet grass that was possible and making sure his tail was tucked tightly under his arm to avoid any damage the dirty water would surely cause.
Fidel was not one for early rising to begin with and would have chosen to curling into the many blankets of his own bed than be trouncing about in the wilderness. Yet as unnatural luck would have it, he had not slept well due to leg cramps and found himself awake when the first rays of lazy sunlight broke through the curtains. When he complained out loud that he was awake, and no one came rushing to see what was the matter, he grew bored. So, dismissing the singing lessons he would have once everyone else awoke, he set off to find someone or something to occupy his time.
At first he tried knocking at several doors to see if anyone was awake, but the only people that answered either scolded him or did not bother to answer. Deciding that it wasn’t worth his time and feeling that he had walked his share, he set off to find a quite place to rest and avoid his master when he would eventually come searching for him.
“Maybe after I sleep a few hours, everyone else will wake up and come looking for me.” He smiled at the idea of a panicked community looking for him high and low, opening chest and barrels while men organized search parties. All the while, a few girls and older women would sob into their handkerchiefs, raked with thoughts that he might have been kidnapped or eaten by wolves. This kept him happy until he made it to a grassy field on the outskirt of the Aishe encampment situated near a cluster of trees. He knew that if he slept, he would not want to be baked by the sun, but he also did not want to carry his parasol any longer. Already his shoulder was sore, not use to such light labor.
When he spotted a fallen tree that rested against a rock, he cringed. He didn’t have the foresight to bring a blanket and wrinkled his nose at the thought of having his nice garments dirtied. Looking about, he didn’t see anything that would work as a clean bed. Resigning to his fate, Fidel removed his jacket and laid it down on the misshapen boulder. Patting it, he set the parasol to his side and slowly sat himself on it. He paused for a moment to rub his knee, before he sprawled out on the rock.
“Unfitting.” He thought out loud, wishing for his cushioned bed instead, but his eyes soon started to train on the canopy of tree leaves above him and the chorus they made. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but think it was all very pretty.
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Posted: Sun Nov 16, 2008 10:34 pm
Inside one of the trees lived a young Djardi who was all work and no play. As each day passed, so did her remedies. Each one had been a success, never failing. That, was until recently, when the weather started to change. When the weather would change, her mother would always tell her to try new potions, that what affected people in the summer would be different in the winter. Thinking about her mother's words made Nairne huff, her dark ponytails bobbing as she paced the room. She knew her mother was right, but the old lady down the lane was much better at being a mother AND a teacher.
Huffing again, the Djardi apprentice gathered all sorts of ingredients from the cabinets, pouring them into a bowl to make one of her many fictitious remedies. "I'll show you, momma," she grumbled to herself, swirling the tea oil with some grape juice. "I will prove to you that people DO get sunburned in the winter and DO get the flu in the summer. So they WILL need me and my remedies WILL pass." Nairne began to stir faster, her wooden spoon making a loud noise against the bowl. Not two seconds later the remedy exploded in her face, burning the clover clips in her hair.
About two hours passed, and though it was nice that she had gotten clean and fixed the place, there were still no signs of the old Djardi lady. Sighing, the young apprentice sat down on a rather large toadstool and began to think. Her potions were called fictitious remedies for a reason. They used to cure illnesses and diseases that before were untreatable. Now look at them. Worthless. As worthless as you are, she remembered her mother saying. The hate and anger in her eyes were very different than Nairne had remembered as a child. You are a failure to your friends, your family, and most of all...to me.
With that, the young female burst out the front door, sobbing horribly. She had only taken three steps when she fell over something. "Oof!"
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Posted: Mon Nov 17, 2008 10:36 am
In his dreams, Fidel envisioned himself lying elegantly in a glass coffin while a mystic choir sang. Gold was forged onto the frosted glass in spiraling designs, depicting some sorrowful tale how this fallen prince came to rest here. Transparent curtains from a overhanging canopy did not hid the images of several nymphet women, all of which looked very similar to Aishe ladies Fidel knew in real life, who plucked petals, giggled, and guarded his resting area, making sure to keep him company, idolizing him, and also keeping the glass clean to make sure everyone got a clear look at him. Fidel was resting peacefully in the cushioned capsule inside a room filled with the sweet scent of flowers and they were all in a small stone room atop a very large stone tower made of large stones. At the bottom, a war was breaking out between who would be first to ascend the stairs to wake him, and as if he knew this, he was grinning while resting. It was then that he felt a vibration from the base of the tower that shook the room he was in, which followed again with another boom. It was then that he was suddenly shook out and tossed about . In that moment between sleeping and breaking into consciousness, his dream rationalized that the war below actually destroyed the tower and it was falling, sending him and his little room crashing to the ground below.
Fidel hit the ground with a loud ‘omph’ and a preceding ‘owwww’, groggy yet awake enough to feel the pang of pain from hitting the unforgiving dirt. A tree root was digging into his shoulder blades and he squirmed to rise but felt himself pinned. Still feeling like he as dreaming, he struggled under the weight that pressed on his body, thinking that some bolder from the fallen tower was crushing him. He was dieing, and he hadn’t even met his princess/prince charming yet.
Giving a large inhale, he woke up and looked about, seeing the sky and the canopy of the tree from before. He noticed the rock he was sleeping on was now beside and not under him and by the cold dew seeping into his back, that he was getting wet. He did a mental check by importance.
1.) His hair was …..GETTING WET! 2.) His appearance…..probably not looking it’s best lying on the ground. 3.) Then there was breathing and vital organs. Okay, but who cared? HIS HAIR WAS GETTING WET!!
He sat up quickly, which rolled the lump on his body to his lap, and he started to frantically touch his hair, checking it as if he lost his head (which would look like it to some people), and also turned to look at his tail. The beautiful gold tresses of his tail were now damp and crushed flat from falling on top of it.
Panicking, he turned his eyes about and focused on the body that was sprawled on his lap. His flaring temper rose up and he grew furious in an instant. “Get off of me this instant!!!” He shouted, taking his hands to move whoever or whatever it was off of him. People needed permission to touch him, and he didn’t care if it was the clan mother herself that decided to dump her derrière on him, he would throw a fit irregardless.
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Posted: Mon Nov 17, 2008 1:19 pm
Nairne jumped as the male roared at her to get up, just like her mother used to do. Tears still filled her forest green eyes, and poured down her cheeks. Standing carefully she wiped the dirt from her long, silky dress and adjusted her leather and leaf corset. Nothing seemed to be broken, but would the male be fine?
Looking over, the young djardi noticed him wringing out his hair, wet from falling over into a puddle. It was golden and beautiful, much like the pages in the old lady's recipe book. Secretly, she wished her hair could be more like his. Shaking her head, she remembered that she still needed to make sure he was alright. Moving toward him, she held out a tiny hand. "I am so, so s-sorry mister." Her dark pigtails fell forward as she bent over him, still holding out her hand but also observing if he was bleeding anywhere.
Before he could respond, she cleared her throat and added, "I may have a clean towel for you, or maybe I can come up with a potion to work." Her tears seemed to slow, and a smile grew over her face. Maybe he could help solve her problem.
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Posted: Mon Nov 17, 2008 2:16 pm
He breathed easier when the stranger left him and he sat a moment as he simply took in air and regained the last remainder of consciousness, shaking his head slightly to clear his fogged thoughts. As of that moment, he already decided that he would never sleep outside again unless otherwise protected by other trustworthy people to ensure he remained untouched. Nothing could work quicker to agitate Fidel than being wet. He hated the rain and disliked the damp. He would either stay inside to watch it pass or have someone carry his parasol over him to protect him. The main reason for this was that when he was wet, his hair frizzed and puffed up, making him look ridiculous. His sisters would snicker when he was caught in the rain, and it was either a toss up that with a drizzle, he would have a fluff for a mane, or with a downpour, he would look like a drowned and agitated cat. As of right now, he felt his hair start to curl in weird directions and the need to dig his fingernails into something that was tender and had a very low tolerance to pain.
His sapphire eyes went up naturally to the person who got him wet in the first place, but his malicious intent melted when he saw it was a young lady. The little fires of revenge puffed out, replaced with a soft excitement. For the most part, she was plain, or plainer to the Aishe girls who dressed in skin revealing fabrics of eye-catching design, usually with some sort of dangling jewelry that chimed every time they swung a hip. Every part of those girls showed their attention to personal detail, and most of them had a air of personality to portray their love of life that was inherit the day you were worn in the Aishe family.
This girl however was neither. Her clothing was natural in color and even more natural in design. The large leaves made him think that she did not dress herself and had otherwise fallen through the canopy of the tree, but he saw they were actually attached to the clothing. (He had made no attempt to hide the fact he was staring directly at the leaves either.) The corset was tight fitting in the way to accent the curves of a woman, but her skirt was far too long for Fidel’s liking. He could barely assess how nice her legs might or might not be. Instead, he looked at her arms, which were lank and nimble, with long sleeves and detailed lacework on the top fringes and bottom cuffs. In comparison to Aishe women, she was below average and would have been ridiculed for her appearance that did not demand attention. When she spoke, light and soft, Fidel could tell that if she was with Aishe women, she wouldn’t have lasted a minute under their cruel mockery.
Fidel noticed he had been mute and starting like a dumb fool in the mud as the girl offered his hand. Had it been any other time, he would have shunned it with a quick jab that she didn’t deserve to touch him, but he was wet, cold, and did not want to be seen by any other company like this. He lifted his hand up into hers and was hoisted up. As he rose to his hooves, he noticed her hands were rough. A worker. His only guess was that with the leaves on her person and the mention of potions, she was a Djardi. Luminestas didn’t usually want to help so freely and Djardis always seem willing to please and help the ailments of anyone. It’s why they were so poor.
The blonde was half tempted to keep hold of her hand, but released to future inspect his person. His clothes were damp, his hair and tail ruined for the day, and he looked like a downright mess. If he walked back home, he would have a slew of jokes and jabs thrown at him for the better part of a week. “I’m fine.” He said, a bit more stern than he wished. “You should watch where you’re going.” He said, advising in some old fashioned way that he hated the moment he said it.
“A towel will be lovely. If you have a comb, it would be better. I can’t walk home looking like this.” If she had to run all the way back home, he didn’t care. It was her fault for how he looked, and he wasn’t about to let even a girl like her have his forgiveness. His hair would not allow it. As he looked at her, willing her to make haste, he noticed she was wet in the eyes. First instinct said she was crying, but he instead convinced himself that she had hurt herself in the fall. The later was easier for him to handle. Crying girls were something he always hated when he was young, and the sight and noise always cut him like a knife. Still, the thought of this stranger sobbing got to him even after he told himself not to, and he craned his neck to look at her face. “Are you alright?”
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Posted: Mon Nov 17, 2008 9:48 pm
With the male in a daze, Nairne was not so sure what to do. His eyes seemed to be scanning over her, landing on her specially made corset. It was hard to tell if he was trying to decide an opinion on it, or if he was staring at her chest. Blushing, she wondered if he would mind if she did the same.
Besides his beautiful hair (which was now starting to curl and frizz), he had horns that that were a milky white and curled. She found herself wanting to reach out and touch them, but knew better than to do such a thing. Nairne understood that those who wore expensive clothes probably did not want her touching them. Instead, she found herself almost envied by it.
Blinking, the Djardi remembered that she was being impolite, and that she had offered the male a towel. When he spoke harshly to her, tears began to fill her eyes again. He was right, though why was he asleep in the middle of the forest? Shouldn't someone wearing expensive things such as himself be with others? In her mind, Nairne could not help but wonder which family he belonged to. She had narrowed it down to three when he spoke again.
"I have those two items. Just follow me." Her voice remained as soft as it had before, barely understandable if you were not listening. The young female had taken just a few steps forward before she opened a door in a tree almost naked to the regular eye. It was similar to her voice in which you would not have noticed if you were not looking for it.
Inside the tree there were bottles everywhere, all with names written on them. Some seemed to be doubles of others, while some were sealed in tiny little bottles as if they were hard to come by. To the left was the beginning of a huge spiral staircase that let up to what appeared to be a second story. To the right was a huge cabinet, filled with all sorts of little plants and other strange objects. In the center of the room stood a semi-large table with a broken bowl and a wooden spoon. Though the rich-looking male did not know it, this was what Nairne had been working on just before she tripped over him.
While she assumed he was still inspecting the place, she rushed upstairs to grab a towel, comb, a small mirror, and a bottle which contained something clear. Returning to where the male stood, she handed him all of the items except for the bottle. The Djardi female quickly opened it, rubbed some on her hand, and ran it through his hair. The product was gone in seconds, as was the frizz it was meant to cure. "There!" Nairne exclaimed, beaming a smile that would melt anyone's heart. She held out the mirror for him, trying to be friendly and of more service. "Now just style as you regularly would, mister...?"
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Posted: Tue Nov 18, 2008 6:20 am
When the door was opened from the tree, Fidel’s mouth almost dropped to the floor. He hadn’t even KNOWN it was a house, but who really expected people to live in a tree? As she stepped up on the boulder that had once been his resting place and was now revealed to be more of a stepping-stone to the ground, he suddenly felt like a moron for laying there. No wonder she tripped on him when he had practically been lying on her doorstep. Not saying this point out loud, he picked up his jacket and parasol from the stone and walked inside, still awestruck by the fact that he was been right next to a strange, magical home.
Upon entering, his mouth made a little ‘o’ of wonder as he turned about, looking around to each corner that was filled with some weird object that captivated his attention. His eyes rose as the girl ascended the steps and he paused his swirling attention as she ascended the steps. Fidel was glad he did not have to go upstairs, but always took a moment to envy those who could do such a simple task with some degree of grace. Looking side to side, he slinked to the edge of the stairs and gazed up, but she had already took the last step before he could glimpse anything that might have struck his fancy.
Disappointed, he went to look about. He scanned the shelves of plants, but did not look at them aside from the pretty pots they were in. In his opinion, a plant was no good if it didn’t bloom or make a sweet scent. Aside from that, it was a weed. Turning, he went over and bended to look at the bottles. The Aishe tried to slowly word out the weird names they had on the labels, but failed and instead looked at them for their aesthetic beauty. He could only see as far as how stunning the bottles were and the way the light sparkled on the weird liquids inside. Aside from that, he only had the imagination to know that there might be something amazing in each bottle that could do wonders, and that sort of potential power seemed to radiate from each oddly-shaped bottle.
When the girl returned, he set his things on the chair on the table and was then handled the towel and comb, but his interest was more on the jar in her hands. Slowly undoing the towel, he started to pat his barren shoulders and rub at his exposed stomach, but watched as she opened the jar and dipped her hands inside. The fact that she said that he couldn’t touch it made him want to. Huffing, he looked down to pat the rest of his clothes and dust off a few blades of grass when he felt her fingers grace his hair. He stiffened out of surprise. Often times, Fidel would get other people, usually one of his idolizers, and let them comb his tail or hair with an air that he was giving them honor and a privilege that he otherwise didn’t feel like doing at the moment, but no one directly used their hands. The action was bold, and he felt the need to turn about and scold her, but just as this thought went, it passed when he felt the sensation of fingers running through his hair, and he lapsed a moment in self-indulgence. The feeling reminded him of when he was younger and his older sisters would crowd about, combing and also doing each others hairs, including him. It often led to him falling asleep in someone’s lap.
When she stepped back and presented the mirror, he broke awake, having realized he had almost lapsed into some state of half-sleep, and checked himself. A hand rose as he looked at him, turning the mirror, and he glanced at her before giving a smile. “That’s remarable.” He said, and lowered the mirror to look at the bottle in her hand. “Now that’s the sort of magic more Ursaris should be doing.” To have something unfrizz his hair was a downright miracle and he felt it better than any sort of magical research that anyone else did. Still, it made him wonder that, if she had potions like this, why didn’t the Djardi s use the potions on themselves to make them look prettier?
Starting to comb his hair, he stood back up straight, and gave off a sly smile in her direction. “You’re really quite something.” He said, dropping a complement. To have someone that specialized in beauty remedies was good to have in your corner pocket, and he was set to start working his own type of magic to get her on his side. Taking the comb, he reached over and used it to brush back a lock of hair hair that had fallen slightly out of place, pulling it behind her ear before resuming his own brushing. “Don’t call me mister. I’m hardly that old.” He didn’t even have a wrinkle yet!! “My name is Fidel. Aishe. And who, might I ask, are you?”
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Posted: Tue Nov 18, 2008 12:17 pm
If his compliment shocked her, then his gesture of pushing a fallen hair behind her ear blew the young lady away. The Aishe known as Fidel had at first seemed to have found her dirty, and now he was starting to take a liking to her. Atleast, that was what Nairne's mind was thinking.
"My name is Nairne. I am a Djardi, but you look knowledgeable enough to have already figured that out." Again she smiled, something that some would not have seen regularly for a week. He's good, she thought placing a hand under her chin. "Well, being an Aishe certainly explains why you look so nice." If it wasn't obvious before, then it was now as her eyes gazed over him. She was sure he had been with others in a caravan just recently. Perhaps he ran away for a moment to himself, as she had always heard that the Aishe were a bit of party lovers at times. That might just have been a rumor, though.
Her imagination continued to think of things he probably had seen and experienced. Nairne imagined that he had met many famous Ursari's and that he himself must have some sort of wonderful talent. Say, what sort of talents do the Aishe in his caravan have? That was something she noted to get around to asking. Fidel in turn must have many questions for me, her mind told her as she proceeded to toss out the old bowl. She placed the spoon away in drawer in the big cabinet before turning back to face him.
"So, what brings you here, Fidel?"
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Posted: Tue Nov 18, 2008 1:41 pm
Never tiring of compliments, Fidel soaked in the mention of how smart and beautiful he was. If it wasn’t obvious. I’m a prince among the poppers. My beauty is unmatched! He was only half disappointed that she had stopped, and went right back to questioning him. Boring. That was what the other families did too often. Having common chitchat that didn’t amount to much. Who wanted to talk of this and that when they could be talking about more pleasing things? Then again, he did want to know about why she lived in a tree, and what else she was creating. Fidel loved travelers, but even Ursaris around the caravan were nice to know, and he didn’t met too many Djardi. This was mainly, because they tended to be poor and didn’t look like anything special. An idea dawned on him on how to spice up the conversation that, if left on it’s own, would just be another talk of skills, talents, family and friends. Bla! He wanted something more when he talked to people. Exciting things! Places, stories, and little antidotes about midnight affairs. (Most would say Fidel spent too much eavesdropping on the older merchants late at night.)
The blonde’s sapphire eyes looked down at the floor as if he was deeply troubled by recalling the memories of that morning. “ Well, you see. I once knew a girl named Glenda who I grew up with, and we were very best friend with a boy I knew named..” Fidel quickly thought of a name. “..Hita. We all grew up together and grew attached to one another, but found out that Glenda was fixed to be married. I was happy for her since she was going to move up in life, but it was to a family that disliked both my family and Hita’s. I knew she was going to be happy with her new husband, but Hita has had a crush on Glenda for a while and was distraught. I have been spending the better part of a week making him feel better and see things for the better. I could not tell him that I felt that I was loosing a good friend for his benefit. Someone had to stay strong.” Fidel worked his magic well. He could fabricate a lie quicker than a cricket’s jump, and a good once to work his motives. The elements of a broken heart, a empty space, a good friend, and someone who was charitable but crushed without someone to talk to. Even Fidel was impressed with himself.
“After staying up the night before with Hita to make sure he could rest easy, he has been having trouble sleeping, I felt too heavy to sleep and decided to go for a walk early in the morning. Nature has such a calming effect, and I cherish going out when it is quite.” Djardis were suckers for nature, right? In truth, Fidel could not stand nature aside from a bouquet of flowers from an admirer. Other than that, Nature was dirty. “But the walk made me tired, and I decided to rested on a rock. It’s there that I was woke up…” He turned his eyes to her, making his face go to a soft look of sadness to that of an uplifting hope and admiration. “…by you.” A soft smile graced his features that seemed to show that it melted all of his sorrows away.
Deciding to move away from this act so as not to fluster the girl who was shy and probably could not handle bold advances, he went back to bringing her to her comfort zone. The trick with timid girls was to make their heart flutter and let them think of little moments like this later in the day, and then continue until they were swooning in your embrace.
Fixing his hair, he looked about to show that he was too pained to talk more about it. He wondered if she would be the type to counsel him with 'poor baby' or 'how caring you are', or move on. He could do with some coddling. “I have never been inside a Djardi home before aside from when I was sick, let alone a home that was inside of a tree. It’s very beautiful here. To have so many potions, you must have lots of talent.” Girls like boys who showed an interest. If spending his childhood with his 16 sisters had taught him anything, it was what girls fantasized from their lovers and how they flirted themselves. Girls liked attention, and who could blame them? He loved it too.
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Posted: Tue Nov 18, 2008 5:00 pm
The story of a heartbroken lover surprised her, as she had assumed Fidel would not have been friends with someone like that. It warmed her heart, but all she could think to say was, "I am sorry to hear that about...Hito? It is nice that you care for his well-being." In a way, Fidel had made Nairne fall for his story. She genuinely felt bad, knowing something similar but not completely. You see, the young female had never been in love before. The only people she ever cared deeply for was her family, which had now turned their back to her.
The potions compliment made her blush, and the hand that had been under her chin moved to her cheek. "Oh, well thank you. I guess I do have some talent, as I was able to come up with the cure for bubbling bumps and drooling drip." Ah, two really gross illnesses. Bubbling bumps was a cross between acne and the mumps. Your face would swell and...well the name says it all. Drooling drip is similar to rabies, but it does not make you rabid and finally kill you. Instead, it makes you into a drooling psychopath. "I'd like to think of them more as remedies than potions. Fictitious Remedies."
She handed him the bottle that fixed his hair, closing his hand around it. Nairne left her hand on top of his for awhile, only guessing on how his friend was. "Do you have to get back soon?" The Djardi asked, almost hoping he could stay for awhile longer than he expected. "I don't think my teacher will be here today, even though we were discussing leaving on a caravan in the next few days."
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Posted: Tue Nov 18, 2008 7:17 pm
“Hita.” Fidel corrected, eyes shimmering at the idea that his acting was just THAT impressive. It was now proven. He could do just about anything he put his mind too. Proclaiming him a genius of an actor, he finished combing his hair and set the brush aside, feeling refreshed and at ease now that he was assured his hair was knot-free.
The mention of her remedies made his spine shiver at how grotesque they sounded. There had been a brunette girl who had the bubbling bumps when he was ten, and she had locked herself in her room, crying and wailing about her misfortune. Luckily for them, the girl’s brother had given a full report to everyone about the severity of the sickness with horrid detail that left Fidel washing his face twelve times that day out of fear.
When he was given the bottle, he felt victory in his hand. With this, he could walk in the rain while everyone else had terrible hair. Even now he could imagine the other Aishe about what his secret was, and he would wave it off that it was just natural beauty. “Thank you.” He said out of policy, looking at the bottle, but taking notice that he hands were lingering on his. Fidel’s eyes rose to met her’s, and he listened to her plea for company.
He gave her a grin and nodded. “Hita is fine on his own and will probably rest for most of the day. He had family to look him anyways. I also don’t have lessons either. ” This was a full lie. Not only because Hita did not exist, but because his tutor had already planned a lesson that morning, stressing that he should be awake by the time he got there. Well, he was awake! It wasn’t that he liked his tutor anyways. The man was a cold prude who sapped the life out of you. It wasn’t like he needed a tutor anyways as he sang perfectly! “It would be my pleasure to spend time with you.”
“You’re leaving so soon?” His voice was hurt, but only because he felt that what could have been a potential source of boundless potions was leaving as soon as it arrived. It was such a short time to capitalize on his recent find. Sighing, he looked down at the potion. “Do you know where you will be going? It seems awfully soon. It’s hardly enough time to get to know you.”
Oh, what a poor little Aishe I am to loose such a DEAR friend. He thought in mock woe.
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Posted: Tue Nov 18, 2008 8:13 pm
"Yes, I am afraid that I will be heading out soon." The hurt in his voice made her frown, but surely he and his caravan would not be staying here that long, either. She was almost certain that they would actually be leaving before her. Right?
Looking around, she was curious to know how she could ever live in such a place. Nairne was certain that most Ursari's did not live in trees, yet were not as rich as Fidel. Had he ever told her his talent? She had so many questions for him. In the meantime, while she had company it was probably a nice gesture to clean the place.
As she placed empty bottles in a cabinet hidden inside the table, Nairne replaced the empty spots on shelves with full jars and such. Turning, her eyes met his. They were a beautiful shade of blue, and something seemed to sparkle in them. "So, are you going to tell me a little about yourself, or am I just going to hear stories about Hita?" She placed her hands on her hips, one leg straight and another bent slightly. There was a strange vibe starting to come from this guy, but she still trusted him. What all did she know about the Aishe tribe?
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Posted: Tue Nov 18, 2008 9:21 pm
Fidel was taking his seat at the table, having grown tired and strained from standing up too long, but paused as she addressed him. The jutting of her hip and the snip to her voice made Fidel grin. A little spitfire, eh? “Maybe. Usually I like others to beg a bit before they know me, but I guess I’ll give you the honor of skipping that process…for now.” He winked as he set his head in his hands, setting his elbows on the table as he leaned in to better gaze at her. “It’s not all terribly interesting. I have a mother and a father, and 16 sisters who either dance, make costumes, or play music of some sort.” Fidel gave a little dismissive gesture with one hand as he let his head lean on the other, not really in the mood to talk about family. “I come from a long lineage of talented Aishe, and am somewhat of a prodigy as a singer.” He was being modest. Fidel was a god! No one could compare as far as he was concerned to the type of lyrical brilliance he uttered every time he so much as hummed a tune, let along sang.
“Many people love my music, which lets people transcend to another level of freedom. I can make people relax and ease themselves from their sorrows.” That and any degree of sense. Fidel could make a shy man dance on the table and a conservative girl giggle after finishing off a mug of ginger ale. “I only have a tutor as to not make the other children jealous, but I already have the talent. It’s only a matter of time before I become a Master.” His eyes regarded the fingernails of his one hand, examining it as he spoke with an bored air as if none of this was boosting his ego.
Turning his attention back, he looked at her. “And what do YOU do all your livelong day? Have to met anyone interesting, went to any exotic places, made any miracles potions? And just when are you going to show me around your home? You’re not a very good hostess.” He wanted to see were all the potions where. If he could, he’d sneak one in a cubby space so when Nairne moved, he could come back to the tree and take it for himself. That and if he kept watching her clean up he would start getting bore and yawn. Who cleaned up this early in the day?!
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Posted: Tue Nov 18, 2008 10:16 pm
Listening to Fidel talk made her wonder if maybe she should have considered getting to know him first before letting him inside her home. He had a relatively large family, and wondered how many of his sister had already been married off, or were soon to be. It seemed as if besides his father, he was the only male. This started a light in the back of her head, but she tried to turn it out. She would figure it out later.
Sighing, she made the hand gesture to follow her up the stairs. As Nairne talked, she decided that she would explain herself and the rooms she showed. "Where you are now is the kitchen and where I make the remedies." Her little hand seemed to brush the air in front of her, as if it were to say 'this is the room you are in.' Moving up about a dozen and a half stairs they came to another room, this one appearing to be the living room. Straight ahead was a gold fabric couch, just big enough for three or four people. In front of it was a glass table, and on it was a candle. It was blue and lit, sending sweet smells of morning glory around the room. There was also a lamp, a shelf with several books, and a rather large aquarium with its own stand. "This is where I come to relax, and where I reminisce about days past. My father passed away when I was about five, and it put much strain on our family. When my older brothers married and went away, my mother went nuts and was afraid she would lose me and my sisters. She was hard on us, and sure enough, I left." She brushed lose hair behind her ears, and proceeded up the stairs. "Just so you know, I have three older brothers and two younger sisters."
When the Aishe and Djardi moved up to the next room, it was obvious that this was the restroom. There was a nice porcelain tub with a lace shower curtain, and a sink that looked as if it were made from crystals. The potty was also white, and by it was a rack full of colorful towels. "I have not been anywhere of interest, or ever met anyone famous." Nairne moved toward one of the towels, straightening out a wrinkle. "I moved here when my mother lost her mind, and the old lady down the way has taken care of me ever since. Pity when pretty much the only fighting in the Djardi tribe is between your mother and her children." Her eyes met the floor, and she shook her head. "My sisters and I all make potions and remedies, but my brothers are healers. One married a Pitivo, but the other two married Thetanas." Her eyes moved from the floor to the stairs, and they continued on.
This room was smallest of all the others, holding only a bed, night stand, a tiny dresser, and enough room for the stairs to go up one more flight. The bed had satin and silk sheets, and the pillows looked as if they had been made from the same material. The nightstand held a small lamp and a little drawer, which had a keyhole in it. The dresser was tiny, but held all the clothes Nairne had. "I was able to purchase all these things when I sold many of my potions about two years ago. They weren't my best, but the ones I have been making lately have certainly been worse." Again she sighed, and again her hands went to her hips. She seemed to have been lost in thought for awhile before speaking up again. "This is why I need the old Djardi lately to teach me her best secrets. It is why I am going to join her in just days on a caravan with other Djardis, as well as Thetanas and a Luminista or two. We hope to pick up others along the way, and we can all help each other." Nairne nodded her head as if to agree with herself, then pointed up. "Above is where I keep my remedies, but most of them are gone right now. I've been meaning to make more." Part of that was a lie. She did need to make more, but there were still about two dozen hidden in the locked room. Turning, she began to make her way back down the many steps.
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Posted: Wed Nov 19, 2008 9:31 am
Usually, Fidel would not ask for a tour. It was morning, and this one was no different. What was worse was that, being in a tree, the steps lead up a ways. His parasol was up against the chair and it would be obvious inside to take it with him, so instead he walked up the steps with as much grace as he could muster if it was level ground. He masked his discomfort with that of looking interested or amazed, looking around and at times away to wince to himself. Steps were something he was glad he did not have to do. Aside from the few steps in front of the caravans he visited, he was relatively free of leg pain. Fidel also didn’t walk around much, and his job and family status meant he didn’t have to do any heavy labor.
By the time he got to the end of the steps, he was leaning on the railing before perking up straight when she looked at him, a small bead of sweat traveling down the side of his face that, once she turned around, he quickly wiped off. As the tour continued, he found nothing of interest aside that the tree was rather luxurious for a tree. He wondered how everything was moved in and, being in a tree, where Nairne’s caravan was to transport her things when she moved.
The only thing that kept him from wanting to go take a nap on her bed or start riffling about in some nearby shelves was her family history. A insane mother made him wonder about Nairne’s mental stability, but she seemed sane. “It’s good you left. No point staying at home. They hold you back anyways. I left mine years ago. ” He said, his back to her as he looked up at the shelf of bottles that she still had left. It was too high up for him to take any, especially with their owner right in the room. As she turned, he followed, not at all liking the idea of taking more steps.
Reluctantly, he followed down the steps, holding dearly to the railing as his right leg pulse. “For living inside a tree, your home is rather uninteresting.” He said in a bored tone, looking about. Without the promise of potions and finding the girl would be leaving, he was looking his devotion as he usually did and was slipping away from his original plan back to just being himself. Fidel easily tired of things and if people or things didn’t retain his interest, he didn’t pay attention to it any longer.
“What do Djardis want to do anyways? You guys never make any money, and all you do is hang around sick people. ” His voice was becoming blunt and bold, lacking the tact he had before.
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