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 Posted: Tue Feb 19, 2008 1:16 pm
"Yes, yes, nerves....terrible, but that's only one thing. You ought to have seen some of my students...terrible clumsy, no tone, and not a clever rhyme in their heads. I'll train the nerves out of you."
At that last, Char's eye took on a sadistic gleam. He'd train them out of him, oh yes, even if the only way to calm the stutter were to work the poor singer until he was simply too tired to notice the audience, he'd get rid of it. Char was an exacting bard, allowing for no mistakes, and few fallacies. He would allow nothing of weakness in what he saw as a sacred duty to the histories of Noctua, to sing and preserve them in their finest condition, in the minds, memories and voices of the Bards.
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Posted: Tue Feb 19, 2008 2:30 pm
Sequoia leaned back a bit, slowly raising a brow to the look he was being given. The tone in what was suggested brought an omnious air that seemed to darken around them and he gave himself a moment to swallow before responding. "I've had a lot of training on my nerves. I'm ......I've been told that it's been rather hard to control. I've had some work done on me. I mean, when I was younger, I could hardly speak a syllable with a stutter. But aside from that, that's the only progress I've made and even that was a great leap from before. I'd hate to be a bother or impose on you." That and he didn't like the idea of training. Sure, he liked to not be easily flustered at any little thing that came his way that would twist his tongue and make his speech ragged. Yet, he remembered how hopeless it all seemed. The training he had as a fledgling had been hardly fruitful and he had seen teacher's before that tried to improve his speech give out sighs as if it was all hopeless. He was hopeless. It really wasn't much of a problem. Singing in the woods by himself. Really.
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Posted: Tue Feb 19, 2008 5:37 pm
Char's gaze softened, and after a moment of consideration decided to take a different tack. He shoulder slowly relaxed, and he sighed, as if in great dismay.
"I see. You do not wish to spend the time it would take to learn...you prefer trees to raggedy old bard like me..." He mused, voice whisperingly whistful, almost drooping as he turned away from the yound Artisan. "I don't really blame you..."
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Posted: Tue Feb 19, 2008 6:30 pm
Sequoia' expression went wide and he opened his wings out quickly, nearing the other. "Oh, no-no-no! I didn't mean that. I just didn't want to have you work so hard. I didn't mean to impose on you if you where busy or had more promising canidates to teach. I'd be honored to have you as a teacher. You're far better than any tree!" He said, placing his wingtips just enough on Char to get his attention, eyes pleading for him to turn. He'd bow low, beg, if he could have the opportunity. He never meant to insult him. Oh, dear. He just insulted a great master of his craft. How cruel of him! "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. My voice and all of it is in your great care. Do with me as you will. I'll try hard to met your expert expectations."
"Please?"
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Posted: Tue Feb 19, 2008 8:21 pm
(( XD classic! ))
Char turned, abruptly and smiling. "Good, goooood! Welcome to the life of a Bard, young one! Lesson one: do not always believe what you see!"
Char calmed, still cheerful, smiling to soften the blow. "I shall enjoy spending the days teaching you, brightfeet. Now, your first assignment, is to come to the crownleaf theatre...you ought to see some performances, so that you know what your goals are! what do you think?"
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Posted: Tue Feb 19, 2008 8:41 pm
Sequoia gave one more of the uncountable hard swallows he had done today whilst in Char's company, as if finding a lot of new things hard to digest. "The Crownleaf Theater you said?" Oh dear. It was awfully soon. What would Char tell them if any of the bards asked? Would he tell them all that Sequoia, an Artisan by trade, was now taking an apprenticeship with the teacher? Would they be surprised? Find Sequoia silly for even joking in such a manner? And goal? Did Char intend for him to preform to such a large audience one day?
Sequoia's head was swimming and he felt faint, but he breathed deep. Already he felt himself getting stage fright. "O-Okay. Yes. I can do that. So, don't always believe what you see. And, go to the Crownleaf Theater at some point." Next spring was always nice, right?
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Posted: Tue Feb 19, 2008 9:06 pm
"Schheh, don't look so worried. I founded the troup, they won't look at you funny. Go tomorrow, I'll be there. 'bout time this old bird got a bit of performing for himself, in!"
Char drew his weight up, in an effort to look proud, then sighed and relaxed, like an old man settling into his comfortable gut. "I'd better see you in the audience...if I have to take these old wings out to find you, it won't be pretty."
At that, char stretched out his wings...was one shorter than the other or was that just a trick of the light? Subtle it might be, but there was definitely something a little wrong with the grey old bird. Hard to put your finger on it.
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Posted: Tue Feb 19, 2008 9:23 pm
Sequoia nodded. "Tomorrow then." Dear me! Tomorrow! That's just...TOMORROW! A day away and not even that. I hardly have time to prepare myself. I'm bound to come and fluff up so much that I'll block all sight from the stage to the audience and vice versa. And I'll shake and stutter so much that the trees will rattle and companions will be shaken off. If I come out of it alive and with some rationality to my mind, I'll be lucky. Oh, to think I'll be blessed with a teacher and cursed with obligations.
Sequoia eyed the trees and sighed. At least with trees, they never spread gossip, made him nervous, or made sure you came at a certain time. Still, it was too early to predict if this was for his own good or if this would all turn to disaster. For now, he would muster up his meager courage and attend, for Char's sake.
His eyes lingered at his newly appointed teacher and he watched the older gentleman rise up, wings out, and from his short distance, saw the difference in his wings. He tried not to stare, but saw it nonetheless. He had to wonder and be naturally curious as to what caused such shortness in one wing as opposed to the other. Was it just something he was naturaly born with and wasn't taken care of by his parents, who instead, with hearts large, let him live? Or was it a wound that had come to his misfortune later on in life? It would be a mystery for now, as it would be too rude to ask outright. You did not poke what could be a tender spot.
"So I shall see you tomorrow. I'll be awaiting to see you, and thank you, once again, for taking me under your wing. I can't say enough how honored I am." Honored to have such a refined, elegant, noble Sentinel that Char certainly appeared to be show any sort of intrest in a wayward Artisan and his stuttering songs.
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Posted: Thu Feb 21, 2008 4:01 am
"Nonsense. I'm forcing this on you, don't forget. Besides," char muttered as he edged back into the comfortable deep shadows, and his interrupted nap, "I'm nothing to be honored about."
And he wasn't, was he? Char was a great many things, and very knowledgible, expedient, wise...best to stop there, old bird, no sense getting full of yourself. What he was was a coward, a manipulative old coward. Char knew that as surely as he knew his own songs, and it shamed him. Especially when it was so easy to get impressionable young things to look up to him.
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