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 Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2012 12:07 am
x x x x x █║ WHO: Oliver & Ziha (Aric Val), Zave & Era (Chrystali)
x x x x x █║ WHAT: Jock hits the ball, ball his the bookworm.
x x x x x █║ WHEN: Mid-afternoon.
x x x x x █║ WHERE: A grassy expanse between living areas and the higher learning facilities.
x x x x x █║ WEATHER: Comfortably warm.
It didn't matter how nice it was; Zavier wouldn't be caught without some form of sleeves and full body cover. Donning an earthen jacket and darker undergarment that highlighted his paleness, the bespectacled male strolled down one of the quieter walks between everyday life and the privileged living, his nose turned downwards into a book. It wasn't that his ledger was exciting, but he was making sure it was balanced - checking over it, double checked, being his normal meticulous self and quite comfortable with it. He'd even begun to grow used to the yearling at his side, the dark colored female so much more fetching than he. In his washed out colors, he was the likeliness of aged tomes and the dust on things forgotten, but hers were bold, natural and spoke of the earth and ancient lore that walked and breathed. They were quite the opposite, but now that she could communicate with him slightly better than the wild images and colors of her younger age, they had a sort of understanding and silent truce between them.
It was in this that he trusted her to alert him of any danger - such as walking into a ditch or a pole or - god forbid - someone else. It was understandable, however, that her sudden blasted image of a hurdling burgundy bird was entirely lost on him, earning no sort of alarm or need to defend himself. It was even more forgiving when the man was hit in the temple soundly by an errant cricket ball, the sharp pain not enough to dull out the outraged cry of white shock and sparks of yellow panic that his Guardian threw at him.
Zave could see a burnt orange in his mind's eye, his Guardian's nosing concern in his conscience, dotting and blotting like ink as he struggled to sit up...though he didn't remember falling. The splitting pain in his head gave him a brief memory of being struck (a burgundy bird) and his Guardian's rage at the affront. He ceased to try and lift his head, instead pressing his gloved fingers against his diluted gold hair, wincing and glancing to his fingertips. No blood, but goodness, that was going to bruise something fierce; he could already feel the knot. Lifting his other hand, he weakly pat his Guardian's stomach, telling her that it was okay, she could not stand over him like an over-zealous dog, but she refused to budge. Era was stubborn and extremely protective, and as such, he could do little more than moan his discomfort and with it, a small sliver of embarrassment. Had anyone else seen? Where was his ledger?
And more importantly, what the hell was the red thing (bird) that struck him?
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Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2012 12:37 pm
BAM. The collision of cork and wood let out a familiar loud sound to Oliver. It would have been noise to people, from how irritatingly frequent and repetitive the young man hit the ball. Yet to him, it was music to his ears, a moment of precision and accuracy that would turn the tide of the game. He could already hear the roar of the crowd, the smell of the fresh grass on the field, he seeked and breathed those moments and endlessly living in that excitement.
The brown haired youth hit the deep burgundy ball quite far into the outfield and just before the boundary line that he had meticulously formed in his head. "Good?" Oliver turned to his back, flashing a smile to the sitting yearling. The sound did not even earn a small flinch from Ziha who watched him curiously with an attentive gaze.
It had been some time since the appearance of the totem and this sudden creature, and initially he thought the deer would be a huge problem but he was definitely proven wrong. Ziha was calm, patient and was never loud, merely offering small, affectionate sounds when his chosen offered him a piece of fruit, a stroke on his head or even a kind word or compliment. Perhaps the only 'trouble' of this situation was when people stared at them or when he brought him to his team practice or into the maketplace. Ziha had a soft brown coat, dappled with gentle white spots on his bottom and delicate white fur that traced his face. Yet for all Ziha's peacefulness, he was far from fragile. The yearling always stuck beside Oliver, pushing his nose to his leg when he almost collided with a caravan because his nose was too buried into a book, helping find their way back home when his chosen had forgotten the path and comforting him with a tender nuzzle of his head when Oliver gets injured.
Ziha made a small sound as if acknowledging the man and with a flash of smile, Oliver pushed his sleeves up and ran to retrieve the ball. Immediately he then found himself standing in position with that same determined look on his bright brown eyes as he threw up the ball up into the sky.
But suddenly, from the corner of his eye he could see Ziha practically jump from his comfortable position. Pairing that strange action with an abrupt, loud and surprised sound coming out from his mouth. And Ziha had never done that before, making Oliver panic yet still taking a swing at the ball with alarmed strength, his eyes resting on Ziha the whole time. He dropped his bat and ran over to his guardian with wide eyes. "Ziha? What's wrong--are you alright?" He put a hand to the yearling's neck, the animal seemingly calming down now, as if the moment seconds ago did not happen. It troubled him deeply yet he did not even have time to dwell on that when another sound made him spring to attention. He turned his focus to the pathway beyond the boundary line and he felt a pounding sense of guilt as he saw a man on the ground, knowing well that he had caused that.
"Ah!! Ah--! I'm so sorry!" he said with a hurried panic, running towards Zavier with Ziha following beside him. And that's when he saw another deer! This further surprised and confused him yet asking that question wasn't heavy on his mind at the moment. "I'm so sorry, sir! Ah bloody hell--- it was all my fault, are you alright?----" he said in a frenzy, kneeling beside the man but recoiling as he spotted the very mad new yearling beside him.
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Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2012 1:00 pm
The apologies that rained down from a distance were hard to hear over the almost maddening flashes of color and distorted images that Era was hurling at him. Zavier grimaced as he tried to press a sense of calm to her - quite the opposite, as she was usually the one keeping him grounded - getting the impression that it wouldn't be overly easy to soothe her, given that he had (in her mind) been attacked and she could do nothing to aid him.
He was aware of the voice being closer now, and struggling to keep his dishwater-blue eyes open, he couldn't stop the small spread of pink on his cheeks. Zave was all for meeting new people, but this...this was outright mortifying. Before he could respond, the yearling still standing over him snapped her pale muzzle at the man, narrowly missing his shoulder. "Heavens -- Era, it's fine, he's -- it's fine, little one!" His voice sounded somewhat slurred and buzzing in his ears, though he couldn't tell if that was because his head was so rattled or because he was still weaving in and out of the grips of being blacked out.
Era, for her part, was unimpressed. With her tail pert and upwards, ears similarly held at attention, her caramel eyes took on a glow of gold with alert agitation. Her Chosen's words reached her and though the language was lost on her, the tone was not. The deer's pelt shuddered as her fur began to relax, regaining some of her usual poise of distance and disinterest, giving the strange man a snort before bowing her head and touching her pale nose square against Zavier's glasses. She huffed, then, ears flattening to show her disapproval.
"By all that is -- Era please," the scribe sighed with weariness. The yearling was finally assuaged of her concern and picked her way over her Chosen, allowing him to move freely. Zave struggled to get to his elbows, his glasses fogged on one side and smudged with wetness on the other. Could this get any more embarrassing? He decided not to test it and ask out loud. Giving the man he could scarcely see a shy smile, he continued to fight with his heavy-feeling head to sit up properly. "I'm sorry -- she's alarmed by whatever it was -- goodness, how do I even gather my wits properly..." Zave laughed, wholly embarrassed now, one hand resting over his point of injury. "I'm a bit dizzy, sir, but I will live. Thank you." Still puzzled by what exactly had happened, he dipped his nose to look over his glasses at the male, though he could not see him any more clearly as such. "What was that, anyway...?"
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Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2012 1:23 pm
The aggressive hostility of the female yearling was not lost on Oliver, moving his body back as she snapped at him. He couldn't blame her, obviously he had practically hit the man right on his head pretty hard. And he gave the two some space, still terribly worried about the blonde stranger yet not wanting to intrude or make things any worse for him or the creature. With this, Ziha pressed his head at him, even pulling him away with a small tug on his clothes with his mouth, letting out a sound of displeasure.
But despite his guardian's gentle protectiveness he leaned forward when the darker doe moved away though he was still careful with his actions with that watching eye on him. "Let me help you---" he tried to touch on Zavier's back gently while he helped him up on his elbows, a worried expression on his worn face. "No, no. I'm the one who should be sorry because--- that was---- my ball." he turned his head to the glaring, accusing red ball sitting by the side of the pathway. "I was practicing---I wasn't trying to hit you, of course. I just sort of lost control." Oliver explained a little bit calmer, offering a small smile to the man. "You're still conscious, that's a good sign.." he let out a small chuckle, carefully brushing away the other's stray hair so he can see where the ball had hit more clearly. "Mmm. Yes you'll live." he joked back yet winced a little bit as he observed the red mark that he knew would bruise in time. "Dizzy? Ah, would you like to rest on the grass a little? I have water if you want. I'm really, really terribly sorry about this, sir--" He let his hands touch on the man's back for support, still showing Zavier a worried little smile (even though the other probably couldn't see him).
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Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2012 1:43 pm
Feeling the other man's gentle pressure against his back helped settle him a bit, allowing the help with a small smile of gratitude. "My thanks, I'm -- a bit shaky yet." He would have put his hand on the other's shoulder or arm for a little more support, but for the life of him, he couldn't see a damn thing. At the mention of a ball, he donned a rather bewildered expression, his light brows furrowing over his messy glasses. "Such is the way of sports, but might I inquire, what evil sort of contraption is it that gives the impression of a burgundy bird and feels like a brick?" Zave started to gather his feet under him, but paused at the brief touch to his knotting temple. At least the man was a gentleman about it! The idea of sitting somewhere that wasn't in the middle of the road sounded like a fine idea, and once more, he was comforted that his 'assaulter' was so considerate. "Yes, please, if you could -- help me to the side area, at least, so I might not add being trampled by a carriage to my list of things to happen today..."
The yearling, for her part, was still unimpressed, though she had partially ceased her assault of inquiry and concern upon her Chosen. Instead, she languidly retrieved the ledger that had been flung and impressive distance, carrying the well-worn leather binding between her teeth. Trotting to the two, she passed them and dropped the book where she anticipated they'd go - off the road, at least - and it was only then that she caught sight of the other Guardian. Her ears lowered in a sideways gesture, wide eyes focused for several heartbeats on the other; she'd never met him, she was certain, but there was distant sense of nostalgia that she was too young to understand. Instead, she simply marched over to the paler male, her hooves striking the ground with a crisp sound, and pressed her nose to his. Era snorted much as she had at her Chosen, a sort of begrudging greeting.
Finally managing to get to his feet with the help of the man at his side, he remained standing - albeit wavering a bit - to withdraw his glasses from his face and procure a small handkerchief, cleaning off the smudged glass the best he could. Blind, injured and embarrassed, he cleared his throat and offered as politely as he could, "I'm Zavier Hutchinson, Zave, if you please, and the lady is Era -- might I inquire to the name of my unwilling attacker and savior?" He was somewhat surprised the man hadn't inquired about the deer yet - it was generally the first thing to come up - but he would deal with that as it came. Since the other had offered some humor to him, he tried to offer it back, awkward as he was. His sense of humor wasn't the sharpest but he didn't want the other to feel so apologetic when really, the worst of the injury was to his pride had anyone seen.
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Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2012 2:19 pm
Oliver had probably not realized that Zavier had a hard time seeing right now, yet even so he took the man's hand and swung his arm over him as he partly carried him this way. "A cricket ball-- well, it's not all evil! Yet I'm not one to talk, I'm the one who hit it, and not got hit by it..." He let out a small laugh at the other's humour, at least the other was a terribly nice and understanding person, but of course that didn't ease the guilt and horrid feeling he still felt for losing control like that. "Alright here?" he inquired, setting the man to the side of the pathway, the grass definitely much more comfortable than the hard pavement.
Ziha kept a watchful eye to his chosen yet he was very aware of the other yearling that was right there, not even noticing him first as he pushed the red ball to the side. He watched her retrieve the ledger but kept his respectable distance. The alarming feeling that he had felt a while ago coming back and this time it felt more--familiar than foreign, settling in him more comfortably. He tilted his head at the deeper coloured doe, ears up and eyes alert and watching her actions. When she pressed her nose to him he didn't back up as he would usually do with anything that wasn't his chosen but he didn't utter a sound. He lidded his eyes and pressed his nose more firmly against hers, trying to make sense of this yearling.
"Hey, hey you should sit down," he started, seeing the man waver a bit in his place. He would not let his hand off of the man's back, not really thinking if it was proper or not, his worry taking over his normal social etiquettes. When the man introduced himself that was when he was more aware of what the other was wearing, much more formal and put together than he who was wearing his folded up bottoms and grey button up shirt with the finishing touches of some dirt in places. He poitely bowed his head at him, slightly embarrassed as he pushed up his worn sleeves to shake Zavier's hand. "Good to meet you, Zavier, Zave. Despite our circumstances. I'm Oliver King. And no, not royalty, was never for me." he joked, trying to lift up the mood of their accidental meeting. "Ah, Era was it!" that was when his head turned to where the two yearlings were, that confusion and surprise of seeing another deer coming back to him. "And that's Ziha over there. At least I hope they get along, your Era doesn't seem to--like me very much right now." he said as he bent over to grab the rolling burgundy ball and stuffing it in his pocket. "Now-- I'm not sure where to start," he admitted with a smile, chocolate brown eyes brightening up. "But first, of course-- you should sit down."
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Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2012 2:58 pm
"Ah--" A short exclamation of surprise left his lips as Oliver fairly manhandled him off the road, careful not to stumble over the other's feet. "A cricket ball, hm? Then you must be a remarkable player to avoid that little bird of wickedness. I commend you." Graciously accepting the help yet again, he cautiously put himself in a proper seated position, shaking out his handkerchief and resuming his cleaning of the glasses in his hands. He felt a little better to be out of the immediate danger and dirt of the road, but still a wee bit awkward to be seated as he was on the side of the road. At least he hadn't worn his white breeches today...
Another soft snort followed the male yearling's push of noses, seeming to satisfy Era as a sufficient greeting. Withdrawing her head back just a little, she contently licked his nose, followed by a gentle n** to the bridge of his muzzle. In a way, it was as though she was grooming him, her own show of interest and exploring the male; in another way, she was simply stating her alpha female tendency. She paused in mid-motion to flick an ear back when she heard the other man say her name, turning her head to look at him. With a twist of her tail, she made her way towards the two men, but kept out of reach, not one for being touched by humans, content to simply stare at them expectantly.
Zave lidded his eyes beneath a swell of mismatched images in his mind; the slate of the road, smokey images of the house districts, a swath of deathly browns and intense greens associated with the Wardwood and the burgundy bird. Era was constantly trying to tell him something but he usually could only get an impression or a feeling of it; to him, she was impressing upon him that he was harmless, except for his mastery of the bird. "She doesn't quite understand the cricket, but I'm at a loss for how to explain that anyway." Putting his glasses on, he tucked the kerchief back in his pocket and finally looked at Oliver properly, taking his hand. He drew in a short breath of surprise - Oliver was darker than he was anticipating, rugged, a handsome fellow - and quickly turned it into a friendly smile. "A pleasure, Mister King. And Ziha...?"
Turning to look at Era, and then beyond her, he saw who Ziha was along with why Oliver hadn't been surprised about his yearling; it seemed the man had a deer of his own! With a small 'o' of surprise on his lips, he was inwardly delighted to have run into someone who had one of the phantom totems. Somehow, it made him feel less alone and ostracized. "Well I'll be," he murmured, releasing Oliver's hand and casting a smile to the lighter colored male, "nice to meet you too, Ziha." Settling his weight to allow the world to stop spinning, he returned his focus to Oliver. "She doesn't like humans much, I promise it's not personal." He smiled a little more widely at that, if not a smidgen apologetic. "I'll remain sitting -- you don't have to keep me company, you know. You've been so very kind and I greatly appreciate your aid." Lightly touching his temple again, he uttered a low, soft chuckle. "And no more apologies, as without this little knot, we'd not have met, and quite frankly, it's a relief to meet another with the same circumstance as I."
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Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2012 5:23 pm
Ziha opened his eyes as the doe started to 'groom him'. He was well aware she had tried to attack his chosen yet she did not seem as aggressive as before, and of course this strange feeling of 'kinship' with her made him feel more at ease, confident that she wouldn't harm them both. He lidded his eyes once again to press his cheek on hers in unspoken acceptance and welcome. When she stopped and moved towards the two men, Ziha followed but walked closer to his chosen, sitting by him a good distance away so he could watch the two men. He turned his head to the rich coated yearling in offering to rest beside him, the paler animal comfortable and peaceful in place.
Oliver, like his guardian was seated comfortably on the grass, flashing a charming smile at the other, less and less worried and troubled but more eager to converse. "Cricket--a wonderful sport, you really haven't ever watched a game before?" he says in wide eyed wonder, the sense of excitement he had for the game coming into topic very quickly. Then at this precise moment Ziha let out a sigh, making Oliver come into contact with those bright green eyes and laughing at himself, even feeling what Ziha was thinking. "Sorry, sorry, Ziha doesn't like it when I scare away new people with my obsession," he looked back over to Zave with his glasses cleaned up and looking much better than before and had such a charming smile for him. This prompted Oliver to smooth his hair in minute shyness as he chuckled. "You have a good sense of humour mister Hutchinson." He blurted out before turning to the two yearlings observing them.
Ziha glanced at Zave, tilting his head to the side daintly in acknowledgement. "Well she has a good reason to hate me, I basically attacked you--" he says with a lopsided smile, bowing his head towards Era in forgiveness. "Forgive me, the burgundy bird will not collide with anything here besides my bat and the ground beneath, that I promise." Oliver shook his head at the other's response, shifting his weight on the ground and facing him more properly. "I know I don't have to, but I want to. And besides, my spot is not far from here, see--" he pointed at where he dropped his bat earlier, his small pack sitting in the middle of the grassy carpet not far from where they rested. "Ah--" with Zave's touch to his temple he wrinkled his brow, staring at the man's red bruise that already stood out from his pale skin. "I am terribly happy you feel that way," he started, a warm smile crossing his features, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious about your situation, how this all came to be for you---and if it was the same as me, well, that would be more questions left unanswered, wouldn't it?" he laughed, "Yet it's a comfort to know that we're not alone in this strange happenstance."
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Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2012 11:55 pm
Era stood her ground for several more moments, sending her Chosen a few more erratic messages of how foolish he was for being beaned in the head by a round bird before she was content that she'd chided him enough. Flicking her ears towards the two as they talked, her eyes turned to the other yearling, giving him a momentary whuffle of consideration before she made her decision. Languid in her movements, her long legs carried her to his side, fluffing her tail as she set about curling her limbs beneath her, leaning against his own. And then, as if the other two were but a blip on her radar, she set about nosing and grooming Ziha's neck again, her eyes closing. The Chosen were safe, for now; she'd take the downtime she could get, especially with a fellow Guardian.
It was only at the question that Zave seemed to remember he was missing something. As he tried to think of cricket and if he'd ever seen a game, he retrieved the ledger that had been put near by, but with a cost; sitting up right, the world shifted violently enough that he dropped the ledger in his lap and gripped the sidewalk once more. He was feeling more than a little scrambled just then! "I can't...say I have. My pursuits have always been in musty libraries surrounded by people three decades my seniors." Drawing in measured breaths to keep himself calm, he again smiled in a vaguely apologetic manner, diluted eyes lowering. He knew nothing of sports; if he had, maybe his relationship with his father might have been better. "You needn't apologize so, Mister King," his eyes returned to the man's face, again somewhat dazed by his dark skin and darker eyes, "I'm a man that prides myself on what I do know and it's safe to say I've no knowledge of your obsession."
The compliment that was hastily imparted was met with a slightly bewildered smile. Had he said something funny? He supposed his attempt at humor hadn't fallen flat, though he'd already forgotten that he'd tried at all. "You're very kind," he murmured with gratitude, letting his eyes remain trained on Oliver, more to keep his head from spinning than anything else, "and please. Zave will do." His insistence and rapid questions met with half-answers kept Zavier somewhat on his toes, which kept him focused, which was a good thing -- he needed to keep his faculties moving. "I don't mind telling the story - it's almost as amusing as being hit by an errant cricket ball - but I don't know that I'd be the best wordsmith just now." Lifting a hand, his slender middle finger pushed the thin bridge of his glasses back up his nose. "Perhaps if we were to meet again - and if I might say, it may not be a bad idea, to arrange another meeting. I apologize if it seems forward..."
Drawing in a slow breath, Zavier turned his eyes slowly to observe Era. She was peaceful then - he could tell by the soft sky blues and threaded silver colors he was receiving from her - seeming content with her new companion. "...I've been studying the annals of history and human progression in religion and beliefs for as long as I can remember, and yet...so little is truly known about the time of the Wardens. Some scarcely believe they existed at all, and yet here we are, an able cricket player and a slight scribe, living proof of the bond that once was." With the same painstaking slowness, he returned his attention to Oliver. "I don't know what it means, but I think it would be of mutual interest to keep tabs on what may come to pass."
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Posted: Fri Jul 20, 2012 11:08 am
Ziha was terribly pleased when Era had accepted his invitation, a sound of affection escaping his lips at the slight press of body on his. Yet before he could lid his eyes in peace, his green eyes darted once again to the earthy doe who was grooming his snow colored fur down to his gentle browns that covered down to his back. There had been times that his Chosen had groomed him yet this was definitely different, there was a sort of strange immediate connection there that he dwelt on as he closed his eyes and rested his head. The Guardian emitted a serene atmosphere that reached his human, Oliver had to glance back to Ziha and give him a soft smile. Yet Oliver's comfort was not solely because of the bond that he and his yearling had, but it was because of his enjoyment with his conversation with Zavier.
Oliver clicked his tongue in disapproval when the other stood up, leaning over to support him yet stopped mid-reach when Zavier had gotten the ledger safely in his arms. "Well forgive me for asking for your forgiveness all the time," he replied in good humour, nodding his head as he spoke. "Cricket is about the only thing I know in this crazy world---And also, I am no senior, so please stop calling me Mister! It's Oliver, Ollie, the boy with the burgundy ball, the evil villain who caused your fall but saved you from the nasty carriages, I can take any nickname."
He laughed with a small raise of brow at Zavier's words, charmed at how the other had received his honest observation and slightly wondering if the man wasn't used to those kinds of words. Perhaps he should have been less forward yet that wasn't in his blood. "No, no, you're kind! And very charming." he said, further proving that he didn't exactly have a filter. Ziha briefly lifted his lids and Oliver could have sworn that he had seen the yearling watch him with a critical eye at the corner of his vision.
"Another meeting? Oh not forward at all, in fact I was going to suggest it," he somehow mimicked Zavier's actions but instead pushed up the stray hair off his brow and brushed it back before habitually pushing up his sleeves again. "And yes, where are my manners, honestly. Of course, it will be a tale to tell for another time." he said, a bit embarrassed at his eagerness to speak to the young man. But he couldn't deny that he was very excited to converse about--which said a lot about him. The only thing that seemed to give him a burst of energy was anything related to Cricket yet here he was with this scribe-- which was a person he probably wouldn't have met or have the chance to talk to in normal circumstances---and with two beautiful and strange creatures with them, the idea was amazing and romantic to him.
"So I see..." he replied with a dazed look, seriously considering and thinking of Zaviers words. "You still obviously know more about them than I do. I have no knowledge at all of this which makes me wonder even more about why I was Chosen." his warm browns drifted off to the lighter deer, watching him rest and rub his cheek from time to time on the female. "Consider us connected, then. And of course, friends." he said more cheerfully, moving over to Zavier and taking his hand and covering it with both his rougher ones.
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Posted: Wed Jul 25, 2012 2:55 pm
Era was satisfied with her position; the yearling next to her looked nothing like her, quite the opposite in every manner, but his demeanor pleased her and thus she felt he was certainly worthy of some grooming. She continued to send peaceful colors of cloud-dotted skies to her Chosen, mostly without her consent, but she didn't really mind. Her ears occasionally flitted towards the two while they talked, especially when Oliver's voice became somewhat louder in his excitement, but she was otherwise content to 'befriend' Ziha in her own ironically maternal manner.
Settling securely against the side path, the scribe offered a gentle smile to Oliver. "I am sorry about that -- titles, I just...it's ingrained. It may take a while for me to drop formality or even to not call you 'sir.'" Zave paused before speaking in a quiet voice, testing out the sound and feel of the name on his lips. "Oliver." For a moment, he sincerely believed he was going to be struck down from Some Power Above for his transgression, but the sky continued to shine its high-noon blue and the air still smelled of grass and the wooden passage of carriages and the earthier scent of horse. The pale man smiled to himself a bit, starting to feel somewhat more grounded both from recovering of his head injury and discovering he might have just made a new friend. "If only all villains were as friendly," Zave returned with light humor, "and considerate --
--and apparently quite the flatterer!" He laughed then, a light sound that was neither held back no overly loud. Zave was fairly certain he'd never been complimented as much in his life as he was in the past thirty seconds. "If Ziha doesn't mind, you'll have to share your love of Cricket with me so I might be learned; it's the least I can do for your kindness." He wasn't inclined towards sports - he had little interest in such pursuits - but he was unfailingly polite, especially with someone as friendly and open as Oliver seemed to be. To see him so animated in discussion of his one true love was worth it.
With a slight dismissive gesture in the movement of his hand, he tried to soothe the other's mind, "Manners are hardly as important as where your heart is, Oliver, and for that, I am grateful." As far as Zave was concerned, manners were just what people did out of expectation; it was their intent that was far more unruly, and as such, Oliver's was simply one of concern and friendship. How could he possibly find that rude? Retaining his smile, he gave a demure bow of his head. "It is my field of expertise, but even I can't tell you what it means to be Chosen, or why we are Chosen as we are. In the past, the Wardwood and spirits therein sought to protect us from the Wolves, who were subsequently chased to the North after humans and Guardians became one. But the danger of that time is lost..."
He trailed off, confusion alight in his pale blue eyes, watching the yearlings. Unspoken, he was nursing a low feeling of dread that the danger was returning, and that's why the Choosing was beginning anew. The very thought made his heart jump and his chest feel tight -- or maybe that was because Oliver was holding his hand. Blinking a few times, Zave turned to look at Oliver again, his fingers curling against the larger, rougher palms in an attempt to return the gesture, but it was hard when his own pale digits were swallowed by the other's dark, warm skin. "Yes," he responded at length, though there was a sense of wonderment in the sudden smile he wore, "friends." And then he really smiled, the type of expression that truly showed off his dimples and made his eyes rest in crescent moons. "For ourselves and our Guardians."
And for whatever might or might not be coming, he added inwardly, trying to squash that distant worry.
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Posted: Wed Jul 25, 2012 4:37 pm
Oliver laughed light-heartedly at Zavier, pointing at his own dirty and simple appearance. "I really hope all the people you call misters and sirs aren't of the same appearance as I because I think you were definitely tricked, my friend." He lifted a curious brow at the utter of his name, nodding his head as if reassuring the other and somehow proud of that simple gesture. "Kind villains!" he let out a rather loud laugh, enjoying the sound of amusement coming from his companion's lips. "Well, you never know! Villains are usually misunderstood and merely need some positive influence in their lives! And perhaps you are that influence that will turn me pure." The boy started going off, the conversation light and quite silly yet something that Oliver desperately needed with all the stress and unexpected surprises in his life. It was pleasant just to merely have a nice talk with someone his age who wasn't only focused on his Cricket playing.
Yet when the blonde mentioned wanting to know more about Cricket his instincts and the sudden enthusiasm kicked in, nodding his head and glancing at Ziha. "He won't mind," he said simply, watching the light yearling nuzzle and enjoy the gentle grooming of the female and sharing this harmony of the gentle touches and scents to his chosen, like a light breeze taking over the man's senses. "I'd really love to talk to you about it if you're interested! You can even try a swing at it, yeah? Trust me, the ball wont hit you, you'll hit the ball instead." he smiled, leaning towards Zavier more intently.
"I am glad you think so." He was relieved, not wanting to include offending the man after hitting him with the ball--certainly knowing now that he was lucky to have met Zavier despite the unfortunate event. And then his eyes widened suddenly-- dazed and rather bewildered at how Zavier spoke. Though he listened carefully just the same, tilting his head to the side at the eloquence that he was definitely not used to. Yet despite the strangeness he was not a stranger to the words, how he crafted his sentences and how he described the story of Wardwood briefly. As stunned as Oliver was, the words and the subsequent smile of the other brought an even brighter smile to the man's face, chocolate brown eyes twinkling in mirth. "It seems we have a long way ahead of us, trying to figure these things out together. That's all there is, there ain't no more." He squeezed the pale hand in his rougher ones, confirming that with a determined look. "Glad to have you on board with me, Zave."
The subtle worry that Zavier showed was quite lost with Oliver when he saw that sincere smile of his, letting go of the other man's hand while his dark eyes drifted off to the peaceful creatures. "And it seems we're off to a good start, don't you agree?"
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Posted: Thu Jul 26, 2012 8:52 pm
Somewhat abashed by Oliver pointing out his strange outlook, Zavier - embarrassed - adjusted his glasses but said nothing more on the subject. He knew all too well about station and expectation, but he'd learned the hard way that station and power did not mean much of anything when it came to what was right and wrong; his father embodied that lie. The cricket player's laughter drew him out of his slight withdrawal, again smiling in his more automatic but no less friendly manner. "If you've any need to be more pure than tending to an injured man, then I'm afraid we're doomed," he teased back lightly.
The enthusiasm he saw in Oliver's face, the way the man seemed to light up at the mention of the sport made Zavier smile a little more widely. The dark-skinned man had a sort of magnetism about him, making it easy to get caught up in his exuberance. "Ah, well that sounds like fine revenge in my book." The older male lightly folded his fingers together above his ledger, glancing balefully towards the previously discarded ball. The pain was dissolving but there was still a dull ache, accompanied by the numbness that promised he'd be in more pain in a handful of hours. "Then I will learn of your precious cricket in our next foray."
With his attention averted, he missed the look the other gave him at his use of words, instead watching the two yearlings in momentary silence. Era, sensing that he was watching, paused in her groom to turn her molten gaze to him, attentive. He was briefly awash in a light inquiry of unfettered off-white with an image of a breeze through high tree boughs; she was asking if something was off, to which he simply smiled at her in a rather affectionate manner, returning her colors and images with an inherent feeling of ease. It seemed to be enough, as the earthen female gave her head a good shake, flopping her ears and stretching them to the side of her head before resting her chin against the curve of Ziha's neck. If she was comfortable enough to steal a short nap, he was certain he was in good company.
Drawing in a deep breath, he looked to Oliver, listening to his offered words through that infectiously charming smile that he was sharing with Zavier. "Glad to be aboard," he responded to the choice of words with a demure chuckle, eyes briefly flickering to the hands that held his as they withdrew. Following the darker man's indication, he would have nodded, but still knew better than to move too much just yet -- perhaps in a few more minutes. "Other than the red bird of doom, yes, I believe we've had a rather remarkable beginning."
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Posted: Thu Jul 26, 2012 9:45 pm
The promise of the next meeting thoroughly satisfied the man, the open acceptance of the other of his invitation and his suggestion to teach him cricket pleased him more than he expected. He focused on those pale blue eyes and following their gaze as Zavier looked back to the two bonding creatures, blinking at their quiet but obvious connection. He couldn't help but smile to himself as Ziha's light green orbs met his eyes, the same pleasant feeling still present in the air, calming the young brunette.
Ziha seemed to have that effect on him all the time. The boy was usually very laid-back yet it wasn't uncommon for him to be stressed out or too over-anxious and eager for something. Ziha soothed him. The male deer shifted slightly in his position, responding to Era's rather gentle bonding with a touch of cheek to her lower neck in quiet approval and thanks before he settled his head down once again against his forearms.
Still with his welcoming smile, Oliver's attentions were back on the blonde, letting out a short chuckle at Zave's humour. "Very remarkable, I'm glad you're still with me, Zave." And then suddenly the sportsman's expression changed as he quickly stood up from place and flashed a little smile before running towards where his pack was. The sudden movement prompted Ziha to lift his head and stare concernedly at his chosen, watching him intently yet immediately understanding what he was setting out to do. He was content when he saw the man grab at the large red metal container and run back towards the three of them, settling his head once again to catch a moment of peace as the two men conversed, green eyes disappearing slowly from view.
"Here!" he said breathlessly to Zavier, handing him the container eagerly. "Sorry, I've forgotten to give you this sooner--" he said shyly, lifting his other hand to rub at his neck in habit. "If you don't fancy a drink --it's still a bit cold, the water, perhaps we can ease the bump with this--" and with that he gently brushed the few tendrils of hair that covered the other's bump, again very much fussy when his eyes focused on the red bump forming. He shook his head at himself with resignation, very well aware his manners --no matter what Zavier had said--was lacking. "I'm just a guy with such great timing, huh?" He laughed weakly, still offering the scribe the water and a sincere smile to go with it.
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Posted: Fri Jul 27, 2012 9:38 pm
The scribe gave Oliver a look that was both amused and helpless. "I'll be able to stand soon without falling over, I believe, but I'm glad that my downtime has been kept in your company--" But then the man was off, garnering a perplexed look from quizzical blue eyes. Zavier glanced briefly to the Guardians - Era, unmoving, quite possibly sleeping and unfettered by their antics, while Ziha watched his Chosen with the same uncertainty as he - before glancing to the ledger in his lap. It wasn't that he had any pressing thing to do, but he didn't want to keep Oliver from his practice and he really thought he ought to get something cold against the uncomfortable, heated ache of his temple --
"Ah?" Zave started a little as Oliver pressed the container into his field of view, wide eyes upturned to the athlete's rich browns. He stared in continued stunned silence at the gentle show of care, only blinking when his eyes began to sting from being held open for so long. "Oh, I -- yes. Thank you." Carefully removing his gloves and pressing them against the ledger, he extended his fingers to accept the offered canteen, but in the process, purposely wrapped the larger man's hands within his grasp. "Oliver, you've been a wonderful companion and an exemplary human being. I am so grateful for that, so please -- don't sell yourself short." Casting him another kind smile, he lightly drew the water from the other's hold, unfastening the top and taking a slow, careful sip to wet his palette. With a soft sigh of contentment, he pressed the side of it to his temple, wincing a little as the cool side came in contact with his goose egg.
Once he was settled with nursing his injury, he felt he could speak again without squeaking from the pins and needles of the container against the swollen temple, continuing lightly, "Now. Since you've been such attentive company, I feel bad for keeping your time. If you'd like to return to your practice, please, don't let me stall you. I'm sure you've more important things to do than tend to a frail paper-pusher." Zave smiled to take any self-deprecating tones from his words, moving the container in a more dabbing motion as the numbness began to settle more fully over the distant throb of pain.
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