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 Posted: Tue Nov 25, 2008 11:23 pm
Mas D'aun and Micarreth : Flashback Solo Mas sat in a high backed chair. His blue robe spilled over a leg that he had crossed at the knees. He sat rather primly with his hair swept up in a ornate hairpin, long lengths of it spilled over his shoulders to frame his black face with it's silver hue in the pale yellow glow of a floating faiere light. He held a book upright in his hands, a old red leather bound thing that had no title or author marking on it's spine. Mas's blue eyes were slowly moving along a line that he was reading aloud.
"... Jynses gathered her slaves and sent them out first to meet the incoming threat. In order to ensure that each one would fight well she garbed them with basic weapons and armor, and promised them that any slave that would slay one of the generals or commanders of the approching force would be adopted by her as her own child if they be drow, or given their freedom if they were of a lesser race."
Upon the floor Micarreth laid on his belly. Still a boy, he wore his short hair pulled back into spikey pigtails behind each of his ears. He wore a blue tunic that matched Mas's robes, and a pair of black pants. While Mas read to him, he played with a collection of small metal figures. Muscular black and sensually accented elves were clustered together. A opposing cluster of thin and small white elves laid upon the floor before him, most of them knocked over on their bellies.
"Grrrrah!" Micarreth growled as he plucked a ugly drider figure from behind a grouping of stone blocks. His red eyes glimmered with mischievious delight as he plucked up one of the white elves.
"Eeeee! No no! Ahhh!" Micarreth continued. Mas ceased reciting from the book and looked up in time to see his little brother ramming the little white figure into the driders open mouth. "Nom-nom-nom!"
"Micarreth. You are going to get it stuck like the last one." Mas gently admonished his brother. Micarreth did not cease his shoving of the figure. A small snap sounded, and a white object spiraled through the air and landed a few inchs away from Mas's foot. A slamm clink followed, and Micarreth looked up with pride towards Mas as he shook the drider so a clattering came from within.
"Ha! Killed it!" He announced to his older brother. Mas leand forwards and pinched the white object from the floor. Rolling it into his palm he casually looked at what seemed to be a arm.
"Indeed you did Micarreth." Mas responded. He looked up to see his brother returning to his makeshift war. Micarreth had a dagger weilding priestess tilted forwards to stab into the chest of another white elf while making tiny noises that were supposed to be, Mas assumed, slash sounds.
"Micarreth you must pay attention to the lesson or else I will have to send you back to public classes." Mas spoke. Micarreth paused in his play and heaved a great sigh. "Now none of that. Come, sit in my lap and look at the illustrations." He urged his little brother.
With another sigh Micarreth pushed himself up and sulked his way to his brother. Mas moved the book and set his foot down on the floor so Micarreth could climb a little awkwardly into his lap. Turning himself sideways Mas waited as his brother fussed to get in a comfortable position.
"I don't see why I need to know all this junk. Who cares what happened to a Dead House?" Micarreth complained.
Mas split his lips into a fond little smile. "We must learn from others mistakes Micarreth. This is how we become stronger and ensure that we will not fail like they did. Now are you going to be good and pay attention or shall I tell your teachers you shall be returning to classes tomorrow?"
"No! No! I'll pay attention!" Micarreth responded with a bit more emotion then Mas had been expecting. Looking down at his brother, he watched as Micarreth grabbed the history book and dragged it over his own lap so he could open it to the page Mas had his thumb tucked into.
"Why is it you hate your classes so much Little Brother?" Mas asked him. Micarreth seemed to bow his head a little bit and he did not reply for a good long moment.
"They say I'm stupid...that I'm stupid and if mom was smart she'd sacrifice me before I embaressed my House." Micarreth quietly answered. Mas shook his head very slightly and exhaled a soft sigh.
"You mustn't let what the other boy's say bother y---"
"It's not the boys." Micarreth cut Mas off before he could finish his sentence.
"Very well then. You mustn't let what the girls sa---"
"Not the girls either." Micarreth again cut in. By now his head was fully bowed. Mas lifted his free hand and placed it on his brothers head. Slipping his fingers through Micarreths hair that was still loose he gently stroked him. The brothers sat in silence for a moment or two longer. To break the silence Mas tilted his brothers head back, so he could peer into the crimson of Mica's eyes.
"Now you listen to me Micarreth Barrith. Your no more stupid then any other child is at your age. You have great potential and you can overcome any obstacle. You are a noble of House Barrith and you will never embaress your House so long as you have me to guide you." For a few moments Mas saw the glimmer of wetness upon his little brothers eyes. Though he was quite proud when not a single tear slipped from those large red eyes. Yet, as he looked down into them Mas wondered if it was a trick of the faerie light that made his eyes show hints of amber yellow at their centers.
"So then." Mas continued a second later. "Shall you stop this sulking and pay more attention to what your big brother is saying?"
Micarreth bobbed his head quickly and the two of them turned back to the book.
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Posted: Tue Nov 25, 2008 11:34 pm
Mas D'aun and Micarreth : Flashback Solo "Yah! Ha! Yah!" Micarreth wildly slashed the air with a dinner knife. His reddish yellow eyes lit with the excitement of his imaginary play. He stood poised on top of the dinner table in pants and shirt of a dark blue color. Dishware was upset all about him, the glasses and silverware had rolled to the floor.
"Watch out, there is one creeping up behind you." Mas D'aun warned his little brother with a mirthful smile. Micarreth spun about, arms outstretched and stabbed again with his dinner knife at the air. "Yah!" He yelled, then hopped forwards as if he were jumping on his unseen foe, and dropped to his knees so he could stab the knife into the table multiple times.
Mas D'aun watched his little brother at play, ignoring the mess he had made of the setting, and smiled in amusement. For weeks now his brother had been enthralled with his imaginary war. Mas had found him chasing slaves down the hall, screaming 'Heretic die die die!' while slashing the air with dinner knives or quill sharpening knifes. One time he had been using a ladle as Mas recalled. It had all been in fun of course. The slaves never were killed, though many recieved a good assortment of sorebruises and slashing cuts. But they were only slaves, it was just a little boy having fun.
"Micarreth, if you are done slaying your last Heretic, I would rather like to be served lunch. I'm quite hungry." Mas called up to his brother. Micarreth lifted his head, a bright smile upon his lips as he jerked the tip of the dinner knife out of the table top and crawled into his seat next to his brother. Only after Micarreth had sat down did the slaves ener the room. First to reset the table and provide them with clean utensils, then to serve the rothe stew and fried fungus slices that Mas had requested for that afternoon.
As Micarreth reached for his bowl, Mas cleared his throat and his brother stopped. "Ah-ah." Mas gently spoke, a finger lifting to wave at his little brother in silent chastisement. Micarreth ducked his head for a moment, then bowed his head as Micarreth placed his hand upon his little brothers own. In a soft somber voice, Mas recited a daily prayer that he had been teaching his little brother, a nasty little speech that prayed for the downfall of those that opposed the Spider Queen, and a oath of loyalty to her cause. Micarreth squirmed in his seat as Mas neared the end of the prayer.
".. in the name of the Spider Queen." Mas finally finished, and Micarreth quickly echoed his brother. Mas watched as his little brother devoured his stew and fungus in giant gulps.
"My! your as hungry as a drider today Little Brother." Mas observed while taking a dainty bite of his own meal. Micarreth looked up, his smile was stretched thin by the bulging of his cheeks. With a hard swallow Micarreth wiped his mouth with his sleeve and excitedly spoke.
"A priestess caught a Heretic this morning! A REAL Heretic!" He excitedly reported. "Dahun told me she is going to have him publiclly executed tonight! They cut out his tongue and strung it around his neck! I'm gunna go see it after dinner! Dahun say's that if I'm lucky the priestess will make it real slow!"
Mas tilted his head to look at his little brother. A sense of mild concern stirred within him at his brothers intense eagerness to see the execution. Playing war and pretending to kill his little toy figures was all well and fine, but to actually witness a priestess killing another drow could be disturbing.
"Are you certain you really want to go and see Micarreth?" He questioned his little brother. Micarreth screwed up his face as he replied.
"Course I do! Who wouldn't want to?" His reddish yellow eyes shone brightly in the faerie light illuminating the dinner table. "When I grow up I'm gunna be a warrior and I'm gunna go to war! I'm gunna- I'm gunna- I'm gunna go up above and kill all them stupid surface elves!"
Mas watched as his brother pulled his little dinner knife out and stabbed at the last remaining piece of rothe in his stew. His lips were parted in a smile that looked a touch feral. "Oh? your going to kill them all are you?" Mas asked his little brother. He could not help but smile slightly himself. Seeing his brother get so worked up into a childish excitement was a little infectious.
"Yeah!" Micarreth stated, then changed his mind and shook his head. "No! Not all of um. I'll leave some alive to be my slaves!" He determined with a little shake of his head. He looked quite proud of his descion as he bit the bit of meat off his knife. "And when I get bored of playing with them I'll sacrifice them like the Priestess! Then they'll all be dead and I'll start on the dwarves next!"
Mas leaned on his elbow and propped his chin in his hand. A bemused expression upon his face. "The dwarves now? This is quite the war you are planning. Aren't you concerned that this might be too much for one little drow boy?"
Micarreth's response was a toothy smile. "Nuh-uh! I'ma- I'ma - I'ma gunna be the Avatar of Sevelstrum!" Micarreth declared with such child like conviction. He stabbed his knife into the air and let out a what Mas assumed was his impression of a war cry. He shook his head with small signs of tolerable affection.
"Well then Avatar. Finish up your dinner and drink down your milk. You'r going to have a lot of training ahead of you if your going to kill all the surface elves and dwarves." Mas playfully instructed as he returned to his own meal.
Micarreth stabbed his knife back into the tabletop with a small 'uhnef' of effort and spent the next few moments eating as quickly as he could. From time to time Mas would glance over at his little brother, the traces of a affectionate smile always lingering upon his lips. As Micarreth tilted his head back to gulp down his milk, Mas lifted his hand and placed it gently upon his brothers head. Intending to ruffle the youngsters hair gently as he was apt to do, Mas paused as he felt Micarreths forehead. It seemed just a little warmer then it ought to be. And micarreths eyes seemed far more yellow in the light of the room. These things doused the warm affection and playfulness that mas had been feeling as he looked on his little brother intensely.
Micarreth set his glass of milk down and quickly wiped at his mouth. "Done! Can I go now? Dahun said he would find me a good spot to watch if we left early!" Thouse reddish yellow eyes looked pleadingly up at Mas. He slipped his hand off the boys head, and with a faint nod he murmured. "Go on then Micarreth. But do not stay too long. I want you back by turn in time, understand?"
Micarreth blew his lips in a sigh. "Yes father." He replied, then hopped up from his chair and half ran, half skipped out the door of the dining room. Mas D'aun remained sitting, his fingers laceing together so he could rest his chin thoughtfully upon the knuckles. His blue eyes remained fixed upon the doors Micarreth had run through with a hint of concern within them.
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