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 Posted: Sun Mar 28, 2010 11:38 am
 WET CIGARETTES:
A tragedy we must fight to eliminate
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Posted: Sun Mar 28, 2010 12:46 pm
Curio Name: Pyrrhos [Πύῤῥος] Sorin Ilionescu [Pier-ohs Sore-in Eel-ee-on-ess-cue]
Pyrrhos: Greek name meaning "flame-like."
Sorin: Romanian name derived from the word soare, meaning "sun."
Ilionescu: Variant of Ionescu. Means "son of Ion" in Romanian. [At least, I think so.]
Curio: A wet, only about quarter-smoked European Blend Import Dream cigarette, found between the cracks in a sidewalk on a day where it had rained earlier that morning. Attached to the butt is also a surprisingly nice cigarette holder. Wonder what happened... [Import Dreams] [Cigarette holder]
Guardian: Nouasprezece Ilionescu, a twenty-six-year-old costume designer. He's about 1/8th deer Eilian, which is what explains the antlers. He has a huge family and has spent much of his life caring for younger siblings, or cousins, or other kids who may or may not actually be related to him. Generally, he's a terrible pushover with a stammering problem, horrific luck, and the astounding ability to get embarrassed by just about everything. He's been engaged for over a year to a nurse by the name of Sarah Richardson for reasons of making their clothes from scratch, by-hand, and having too many performances getting in the way of getting it done.
Appearance-wise, Noua is a frail young man with, as aforementioned, two antlers that stick up from a mess of medium brown hair. His faintly tanned skin is usually marred with various scars and bruises from his clumsiness and his eyes are a light blue colour. Otherwise, he's a relatively normal, if a bit gangly, human male.
Gender: Male
Hair: Extremely crinkly / kinky, reaching just a slight bit past his shoulders. It's a mixture of different browns ranging from auburn to espresso, matching the colours of the tobacco up until the very ends, which are ashen and fried-looking and are also perpetually smoldering. Is also perpetually damp.
Eyes: Very mixer range of reds, oranges, and yellows, looking like a living fire, the darker colours toward the middle and serving as pupils, getting more yellowed to the edges of the iris.
Clothing Style: To put it simply for now, clothes in mostly black that were once really nice, imported clothes and are now wet, burnt, and torn up. References and the like will be added at a later date.
Personality: Very dual-sided in nature. On the surface he's generally depressed and mopey and kind of annoying to hang around with because he seems to see nothing but the bad in life. However, there is a way to see the other side of him. Typically, when he gets closer to people, he loosens up quite a bit and reveals that he does have a positive outlook and a good sense of humor. He actually does laugh sometimes and has a great love of watercolour painting. In all honesty, under all of the layers of dampness and depression, Pyrrhos is a happy-yet-quiet boy who is absolutely adorable. He's just what he is: a wet cigarette.
Special Traits: The ends of his hair are constantly smoldering and he is constantly damp from head to toes, meaning that his hair is also constantly making that hissing noise that accompanies water hitting fire. However, his hair doesn't actually burn up. It just smokes and gives off a faint scent of tobacco. Note also that he's not so wet that he's dripping, just enough that it's not comfortable to hug him. His skin is extremely pale from his waist up - like, white-pale, but from the waist down, his skin is a tannish-yellow color, much like the filter of a cigarette. Though it's unlikely it'll ever be seen, he also has the Dreams insignia on his stomach, near his navel. [Dreams insignia]
Talents: Gives people around him a nicotine buzz that goes away shortly after they leave. When people hang around him enough, they don't notice the buzz unless they don't see him for a long period of time.
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Posted: Sat Apr 03, 2010 3:14 pm
April Fools Prompt Response
Pyrrhos was so super-extra-fantabulously excited for the Easter egg hunt, this being his first, that the singed edges of his hair were practically glowing white. He bounced happily beside his guardian, holding tight to the Eilian's hand, the normally shy little boy practically vibrating with excitement. The hand that wasn't bound to Noua's was holding a little light blue basket with Easter-style detailing on the outsides and pink raffia lining the inside, a good place for plastic eggs to be nestled together.
The older man knelt down beside his new... son, he supposed the little cigarette boy was, and put both hands on his shoulders, smiling slightly. Pyrrhos ducked behind his hair at the mild intensity of the stare, but gave a little smile in return. "N-now Pyr-Pyr-Pyrrhos. Be c-c-careful. D-don't knock any-anyone ov-ver and m-make sure the-ey don't do the s-s-same t'y-you. And y-you know t-t-to ne-ever ta-alk to str-ra-angers a-and--"
Noua was cut off by the shouting of the word start, his son darting into the frey along with tons of other kids. Pyrrhos squeaked when he found himself trapped in the middle of everything, hugging his basket safely against his chest and stiffening in the middle of all of the commotion. Around him, the crowd slowly thinned out, leaving him and a few other rather quiet, reserved looking children, plucking through the wreckage.
Most of the kids so far had run off, gathering as many eggs as possible and throwing them into their baskets without seeing what was inside; of course, Pyrrhos didn't really want to do that. He would rather get the neat eggs and see what was inside of them than just get them to have a lot. The toddler peered closely at the ground, looking around for some kind of colour against the browns and greens of the park as he did so. Finally, he spotted a little pink egg and gasped happily, hurrying over to it and dropping to his knees next to it. He picked his prize up gingerly and cracked it open.
The sensation was strange, a prickling feeling that made the hairs on his arms stand on end and a hellion-child smirk come to his face. Dropping the cracked egg into his basket and leaving them both at the tree that he'd been at previously and got to his feet. Looking around at the ground, he found himself a decent sized stick, which he picked up and carried with him, dropping and lifting it from the palm of his other hand, singing softly under his breath: "He'll be comin' 'round the moun'n when he cooomes~"
The look of it all was quite sinister and creepy, really.
It didn't take him long to catch up after the kids, and when he did, it was truly a sight to behold. Swinging the stick he'd found like an axe at them -though still far enough away not to hit any of them- he chased the kids around, screaming the lines to 'She'll Be Comin' 'Round the Mountain' while eggs fell everywhere around him as the other children tossed away their baskets and fled for their lives. Or their sanity, because who knew, maybe Pyrrhos' sudden crazy was contagious.
Not even a minute later, the little boy fell out of his strange 'fit', looking around curiously. When he saw the stick in his hand, he squeaked and jumped, dropping it and blushing brightly when he realized just what he'd done. Feeling sheepish and awkward, he gathered up the eggs that had been dropped in his button-up shirt, using that as a makeshift basket, and taking them back to his own basket.
Smiling and pleased with what he'd gotten from this, the little boy returned to where the hunt had started, back to Noua, who was waiting there with a smile. "H-hey there, li-ittle boy. Wh-what'd you g-g-get?" he asked, peering into the basket with interest. Pyrrhos looked from the basket to his parent a couple times before a broad grin broke out on his face and he lifted the basket high above his head, offering it out to Noua.
"I nun'no, Daddy, why don'tcha find out?"
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