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 Posted: Fri Jul 23, 2010 7:52 pm
It started in July 1410...Post Formats_______________SOLO[size=10][ [b]ENTRY/META - - - MM YYYY[/b] ]_____________________[u]' '[/u]
[list][list][list][/list][/list][/list][/size] Post Formats_______________PRP/ORP/ETC[size=10][ [b]ENTRY/META - - - MM YYYY[/b] ]_____________________[u]' '[/u]
[align=center][url=][ RP TITLE ][/url]
[i][/i][/align][/size]
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Posted: Sat Jul 24, 2010 11:30 am
[ ENTRY - - - July 1410 ]_____________________' Memories '
Silence.
An empty house.
A missing welcome.
How long has it been since someone greeted him the moment he opened the door? Seymour pondered as he opened the cabin door as gently as ever, leaving behind only the squeaky sound of the age and rust. The house used to be so warm when his grandfather was still alive, when did it become so deathly quiet with him gone? The man gave a sigh before knocking the snow off the bottom of his boot, taking them off before heading into the cold, dark cabin. He gave a silent hiss as he shivered at the cold air that now occupied the cabin, maybe leaving the door open as he zoned out to think wasn’t a very smart idea.
Warming up the cabin didn’t take very long. The wooden complex wasn’t too big, It was just big enough to serve as a home for a maximum number of two. However, with most of his grandfather’s belongings removed, the cabin felt a lot bigger than it used to be. What was he thinking? Obviously it would be bigger. There’s only one person in this cabin, and everything within this cabin only needed to supply comfort and rest for one person. Obviously the cabin feels bigger! Seymour took off his jacket and threw it onto his bed before throwing himself onto the chair beside the fireplace.
The first time he had sat in this chair, he had still been a young boy. It was barely a year after the death of his parents, and he had been crying. His grandfather couldn’t bare the tears and had placed the young boy on his lap, trying to ease the harsh feelings of death and dread. He remembered the old man trying to lighten the mood only to make the atmosphere even worse, the dread of his parent’s death didn’t lift until his grandfather accidently smacked his foot into the side of the bed. Looking back on the memory, Seymour allowed a soft smile to creep onto his face. His eyes slowly trailing over towards the kiseru above the fireplace as more memories replayed themselves in his mind.
- - -
Waking to the sounds of the chickadees, Seymour stretched from his position on the chair. It seems he had fallen asleep as he reminisced on the past. Hearing the crack of stiff bones, the man got off his chair and straightened out his shirt, checking the dim ember in the fireplace before getting the stove started. Starting from the point of Seymour waking up, getting ready to make breakfast, to the point of him getting ready to leave the house to do the usual chores, it was all as usual. However, this morning, it was slightly different. The smoke from the kiseru was much more evident today, and the scent of tobacco filled the house. The smell was suffocating.
Opening the window to let the smell out, Seymour shivered as the cold breeze entered in exchange. Even with the warmth of the semi-heated stove, the cold ate away at what little warmth it gave. The man shivered again before grabbing his jacket and put it on.
- - -
Usually, Seymour would be out chopping wood to make sure he has more than enough for an emergency, but today, he decided to stay close to home. Putting on his boots, the man went to his closet and took out an old broom from the back. He went outside moments later and started to clear the porch of its contents. Snow, muddy foot prints…All were swiped off from the wooden planks. Even though it only took two to three days for the dirty state of the porch to return, having a clear deck is rather nice once in a while.
Taking in a deep breath, Seymour smiled as he took in the scent of snowy world around him. However, the scent of tobacco leaking from within his home surrounded him seconds later, taking over the natural scent of the world. The man flinched at the smell and opened his door, watching the black smoke as it escaped from the pipe. The sight was very unnerving, and very unnatural.
“This…has never happened before…” Seymour mumbled to himself silently, walking towards the resting place of the pipe. Picking up the kiseru, the man moved it towards the window to let the smell out a bit better. As much as the scent of tobacco reminds him of his grandfather, having the smell fill up the entire house is a bit…suffocating.
Seymour sighed and stared at the pipe as the smoke trailed outside. However, it seems something is very odd about this smoke. It looks like normal smoke, smells like tobacco smoke, but the smoke trail stops barely 5 inches from the pipe, not to mention the intensity of the smell varies. Maybe something possessed the pipe? Possibly, maybe he should figure it out later.
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Posted: Sun Aug 01, 2010 6:49 pm
[ ENTRY - - - August 1410 ]_____________________' Going to Town '
In Seymour’s life, most of his time has been spent around his home: the wooden cable located within the Shyregoed, on the edge of Helios. However, there was the rare occasion of him going into the town located within Helios. These occasions however are usually related to either going to the doctor’s, replacing a broken equipment (like his shovel or axe), or simply to listen in on the gossips of the city. As much as the isolated life means living alone, knowing what is happening within the world is still very important.
Back when his grandfather has still been alive, Seymour would have his grandfather be his traveling companion. However, with his grandfather gone, he will have to go alone. This is definitely not something he would be looking forward to.
In the past, Seymour was allowed to just observe and listen in while his grandfather would go talk and socialize with others in the town. He would, usually, take this time to see the changes done to the town from their last visit while his grandfather would just talk the day away. Those were the easier days. Now that his grandfather is gone, Seymour has to do everything himself and it is harder than it looks. Seymour is a very shy man. He looks tall and a bit threatening, however, living in isolation made interacting and socializing with others very awkward. And that’s how he is feeling now, in the entrance of the town, looking pale and extremely anxious.
If anyone had been with him, he might have felt a little better, or, it could have also made him even more nervous. He does not have any friends, the only person he knows beside his grandfather is the doctor, and everyone else is pretty much a stranger to him. Maybe going to the town alone for the first time was for the best. Who knows? He might gain some experience from this and stop being as shy.
“Alright. I go in there, I buy a new axe, I try to listen in on some update on what is happening and then leave. Nothing out of the ordinary.” Seymour thought, trying to calm down. It’s not like he haven’t been to the town before. Everyone usually just ignores him, it’s not like they’ll think he’s there to do something bad. Right?
After another few minutes of fidgeting, Seymour finally got into the town.
The town was lively as ever, well, as lively as it can get with the plague going around. Everyone’s worried though there are still those outside working and some just gossiping or hanging out. The buildings remain the same as before, nothing different, not even the pebbles on the ground seem to have moved. Everything seems as it has been the last time he had visited. Possibly minus a few older folks or two. The silence within the city has grown, however, the chatter within the markets remained rather loud.
Seymour took a nervous gulp before heading off to the blacksmith’s, dodging a few children running down the street, lowering his head once in a while to stop himself from walking into someone’s stand. The gossipers stared at him as he passed, whispering and talking among themselves as he past. Were they talking about him? Hopefully not. There’s not much about him. It’s not like Seymour’s some kind of villain or hero. Maybe they just went back to talking about whatever they were chattering about before? Hopefully.
Rushing towards the Blacksmiths as fast as he could, Seymour ran into the store. He bit the inside of his cheek as anxiety build up on again.
“What do ya want?” The blacksmith questioned, stepping away from the forge. He wiped his hand as he walked towards Seymour. “If ya look’in for work, I ain’t got any.”
“...”
“Spit ‘t out! I ain't got all day.”
“…I’m…here to buy an axe?” Seymour replied ever so silently, watching the man nervously. “Oh lord, I’ve done something wrong. Great job Seymour! Great job, now you’ve done something st—" His train of thoughts were cut off as the man handed the axe to him.
The rest of the incident went pretty smoothly. Seymour paid for his axe, left the store, TRIED to listen to the gossipers (that didn’t do too well, the gossipers just scatters and went back home)… The day went pretty well, for the most part.
As he began to make his way to the exit, Seymour saw a merchant selling tobacco for pipes. Tobacco…Maybe he could buy some? Just as a reminder of his grandfather and possibly just a little something. Maybe it would even please his grandfather’s haunted pipe!
- - -
From buying the axe, to buying the small pouch of tobacco, to buying some meat for dinner, the day went by very quickly. By the time Seymour returned home, the sky had barely any light left. The man went to set up the stove, stored away his new axe, went to make dinner, and did his nightly routines. However, before heading off to bed, Seymour went up to his fire place and placed the small tobacco pouch right next to the Kiseru.
“Hello Grandfather, I…brought you a little something from town. I hope you like it…as well as the Kiseru.” Seymour smiled, seemingly seeking a response from the smoking pipe. He sighed slightly when nothing respond. “I…guess I’m just imagining things. Maybe I’m hallucinating. Well, goodnight grandfather.”
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 12:30 pm
[ ENTRY - - - August 1410 ]_____________________' Haunted House '
[ Haunted House ]A flower in the midst of a blizzard.
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 12:34 pm
[ ENTRY - - - August 1410 ]_____________________' Run for Your Life! '
[ Run for your life! ]I just met you,
and this is crazy,
But why are you chasing me,
I don't even know you, halp me.
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 12:38 pm
[ MISSION - - - August 1410 ]_____________________' Let's Talk 'Der Pestdoktor Faction Prompt - Council
FallenSiren
The time has come once again for the yearly Imisus public forums. Each year, the towns and cities of the region open up their hall doors to hear the opinions and plights of the people and the Council wishes to make an appearance. It's up to you to make and present a speech to the magistrates of Imisus, telling them of the Council's need for more funds while keeping in mind to tell them - positively of course - of the Scientist's research thus far. That's not all of course; the Council hopes that with your presentation you will inspire more people into their ranks and Doctor Kirkaldy wishes to see at least two (2) Imisus countrymen (or women) with you upon your return.
This mission is a solo. No RP is required, and the Doctor does not need to be spoken to, but please detail the speech you give, the reaction from those at the forum, and your return to the Council main house with (or without) a minimum of two new pledges. How. How in the world did he get himself into this? Not that he is regretting anything, but to be asked to represent the Council at the Imisus public forums was not something he would think he would be doing. Were they sure about sending him to represent the Council? After all, he could barely greet someone without worrying that he did something wrong. This will probably end up being a disaster…
Ok…that certainly wasn’t what Seymour had expected. Of course he had expected something bad to happen, but getting punched before a presentation was not what he had in mind. Not to mention it stings, hopefully it wouldn’t affect his first appearance with the magistrates. Ugh, his face will probably swell up like a balloon tomorrow. Maybe he should see a doctor right after this. Seymour gave the Kiseru hidden in his coat pocket a gentle rub. He needs to get this meeting done and over with soon. The Council wants some funds, and he is to get it for them. He promised he will, and he’s not one to go back on his word but, really, was he the right choice? Seymour gently patted himself on the cheek, wincing a little when he felt the sting from his bruise. He better suck it up and do this well.
Upon entering the magistrates’ building, Seymour watched as people lined up in messy, tangled lines, all of them wishing to change the current way of living one way or another, for better or for worse. How much change could they possibly do? Even if they complain, groan and moan about their sorrows, the final judgment is not up to them. The final judgment is at the hands of the entire section of selected magistrates. People can whine, but what’s in it for those in the upper levels of society? All they really care is of the things that could infect their perfect world, things such as the Black Plague. The disease is eating away at everyone, not just those of the lower courters but also those on higher standings. The plague does not treat anyone different. It eats away at everything.
The tall man could only stand in the door way in awe at the people, who would have thought so many people would all cramped up in such a place for something like this?
“Hey! Watch where’cha standing!” A bearded old man shouted, waving his cane at Seymour menacingly. The poor man could only nodded at the old man apologetically before going to line up with everyone else. The line might be long, but certainly going through it would be a lot faster… Right?
- - -
Hours, he has been standing in line for hours. The line hasn’t gotten any shorter, instead, it only grew longer and longer. At least his position in line wasn’t too bad. It looks like the door is getting closer, but is it really? For all he knows, it could just be his eyes playing a trick on him. Oh well, at least there’s more time? He should be happy, but the nervous in the pitch of his stomach did not like it one bit. He had been talking to himself over and over again about his topics for the presentation, and yet not one of them sounded decent. Was he a fool to take up such a task? Possibly, but he will have to try.
Try harder.
Try harder.
Try much, much harder!
He will get that fund for the Science Council, he will get it for the sake of a possible cure for the Plague, he will not let another person die like his grandfather had. He is joining the Science Council in hopes of finding a cure, one that could save people. Even if the cure means sacrificing a few people here or there, it was worth it. One life’s sacrifice could save a million…it would be worth it right?
Even if that life was the life of a man or women with a family waiting for them?
What?
A life was still a life right? What was he thinking? When had he started to think in such a cruel way?
Seymour shook his head, allowing it to clear his thoughts. He needs to do this presentation and get that fund. If he does, there would be more supplies and equipment available for the Council and with more equipment, a higher chance of finding the cure. Seymour gave another rub to the kiseru within his pocket, looking for a sign of comfort. Why did he bring his grandfather’s kiseru with him again?
A sign of comfort? It can’t talk, so how comforting can that be?
A sigh of reassurance? Could an inanimate object really do that much comforting even without a voice?
Breathe in, breathe out. The doors are getting closer. It was almost his turn, he better be ready. Breathe in, breathe out, in, out, in…The mahogany doors are staring down on him now. He could hear the complaints, points and requests the person before him was making. The silent of the magistrates don’t sound too happy with what the person is requesting. He could hear other people talking in whispers at what is being requested, some sounded as if they were smiling, the rest were just silent.
“Next.” A voice said as the man before Seymour entered the “stage”. It was his turn to shine.
- - -
“Ladies, gentlemen, and dear magistrates, I come before you as a representative of the Science Council in order to update you on what we have been doing.” Seymour paused, taking in a deep breath. Keep calm Seymour, keep calm. “Over the course of the year, we have - as we’ve always been - looking for a way to cure the Black plague. We search and search for this cure in hopes of saving lives of everyone who had and might get infected in the future. We work with what we have and what we could get our hands on but, our resources are very limited and thus our research for both the cure and the disease has been a little slow. And in order to supply the rest of the Science Council with enough materials, we need funds. Funds for equipment, materials, research samples…We need funds to do such things. If the Science Council acquires enough funds, we could get better supplies, and with better equipment and more research samples, we might have an even higher chance of finding the cure sooner! That is all I have for you ladies and gentlemen. I hope you will support the Science Council’s causes and that you would come to join us one day. Thank you everyone.”
- - -
Seymour stood at the stand, watching the magistrate before him, daring them to ask him questions. He is doing this, he must do this, he can do this. He could feel his hands tremble, but he must stand firm. The silence within the room was overbearing.
Suddenly, the silence was broken as one of the magistrates finally spoke up.
“How do we know if you lot wouldn’t do what Diefendorf did? Anything is possible with you underground living scientists!” The man accused, but Seymour only stared at him.
“Of course there are problems as he as there are corruptions, but anything related to communities has some form of corruption. I assure you, our research is for the greater good and that all our research and experiments are done through ethical procedures.”
“So how do we know if you all will find that cure?”
“We already did, but you killed it. Now, we have to start from scratch.”
That, most certainly forced the magistrate to be quiet and hand over the funds. It might have been a long time ago, but even with the monstrous and un-ethical experiments on other people that Diefendorf did, he was the man who had found the cure, and they had killed him. Their only source of a possible cure, gone, and by their own hands too. It should be their responsibility to fund the Council to re-find that cure.
“Any more questions?”
- - -
More questions were asked, but mainly about what the Science Council intends to do with the funds. Seymour felt like he was repeating himself as he answered the questions over and over again with what knowledge he had of the Council. He could still remember the whispers that first question the magistrate asked has caused. Were the whispers a good thing or a bad thing? He wasn’t sure, but he was certainly glad it was over. He had - somehow - won the battle and the Council was going to get their funds. Mission accomplished. Seymour could still feel his hands trembling, his legs felt like lead as he walked out. Now he just needs to ge—
“Excuse me?” A young lady and her husband came up to him. Seymour froze, and greeted them both the best he could after the war he had to face. He needs to stop trembling.
“H-hello. Can I help you with anything?” replied Seymour.
“Yes, hello, you were the young man who was asking for funds for the Science Council correct?”
“Yes. I-indeed I am.”
“Well, I was wondering if you could help me. You see, my husband and I would like to join the Science Council, would it be possible for us to join?”
“O-of course! I think…”
“Alright, will the Science Council be opened tomorrow?”
“Yes, it’s always open.”
“Alright, thank you mister…”
“Seymour, just Seymour.”
“Thank you Seymour.” The lady smiled before nodding and took a hold of her husband’s arm and left. Seymour immediately crashed to the ground as his legs gave out from under him. Man, what has he gotten himself into? He went to wipe away the sweat from his face and winced as he touched the bruise on his face a little too hard. Seymour had completely forgot about it...He should probably go see a doctor and report back to the Council soon.
- - -
When Seymour finally got back to Headquarters, he was surprised. The couple he had talked to before had brought a few friends with them. It seems they all wanted to join the Council, but for what cause, Seymour wasn’t sure. All the man did was show the group in. He should probably go tell Doctor Kirkaldy or Sir Rockwell about the funds that will be sent to the Council soon. Before heading off, Seymour gave the small group a nod, catching the eye of only the lady from before. He mouthed a “Good luck” to her before heading off. He didn’t catch the kind smile the women gave him as he left.
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 12:40 pm
[ ENTRY - - - September 1410 ]_____________________' Physics '
[ Physics ]Ah, an accident. A pleasant one though.
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Posted: Thu Sep 30, 2010 10:37 am
[ ENTRY - - - November 1410 ]_____________________' Meeting in the Cold '
[ Meeting in the Cold ]OoC: Cannot be finished
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Posted: Thu Nov 11, 2010 1:14 pm
[ ENTRY - - - November 1410 ]_____________________' Clance '
“Where did it go?” Seymour asked, glancing at the empty stand above the mantel piece. He was certain he had put the Kiseru back in its holder the moment he got home, so where could the beautiful pipe have disappeared off to? Did a thief come in a steal it? No, that’s not possible, he had been home the whole day yesterday, the door was locked and if someone had sneaked in, the floor would have been wet from the snow outside. The giant of a man scratched his head and, again, searched for the silver pipe, picking up pillows and moving the chairs, making sure not a single spot was forgotten. Seymour let out a small disappointed sigh when his searched ended up negative once more.
“Where could the pipe have gone?” He asked again, not really looking for a response, but when he heard the tiniest of giggles, the man jumped and snapped his eyes around, trying to locate where the sound came from.
Was he imagining things or did he just hear someone laugh? That can’t possibly be true! He lives alone!
Seymour stood up and glance around his cabin, straining his ears as he tried to listen for that same voice again. He stopped when he once again heard the giggle. It was coming from the mantel piece, but how was that possible? He had searched there already and found nothing! The man walked over towards the fire place and glance at the various objects that has been place on the wood above, there were petty little things like decorated cups and pots, even some carvings he had done as a child.
Heh heh…
There it was again. Where…? Was it coming from this…pot?
Heh heh…
Reaching towards the lid, Seymour took a deep breath before picking up the lid as quickly as he possibly could. The man took in a breath sharply as he saw what was inside.
Within the pot was a tiny little thing, black and gray with two large growing eyes. It let out a giggle as it saw Seymour and sat on its kneels as it waved to the man.
“I’m here Seymour! I’m here!” The little thing laughed, smiling as it stood up. “You found me! Let’s play again!”
“P-play?” Seymour questioned, picking the tiny being up with his massive hands. The little thing was hardly the size of his index finger! “Who are you?”
The little thing pouted, or tried to, hugging itself against his fingers while yanking at his own little cape in attempt to keep it from falling. The tiny being suddenly looked at him straight in the eyes, letting out sounds of sniffles as if it was about to cry, “Y-you didn’t forget about me did you?”
Forget? Forget who? Seymour thought hard, glancing at the tiny thing as it continued to cuddle against his finger. “Forget you?”
“Yes! You always took me everywhere! How could you forget me Seymour!” It wailed as it took a stand on the center of his palm, flailing at the man. It continued to do this until it suddenly lost its balanced and fell backwards on Seymour’s palm. It continued to make sniffling sounds even though no tears were presented.
The man scratched his head with his free hand, trying to figure out who the little thing was. Something he took every--…Seymour’s eyes snapped wide open, “Are you the Kiseru?”
“Yes! How could you forget about me Seymour!” the being who claimed to be the pipe cried as it sat up again and stared at its keeper.
Seymour wasn’t sure what to do, there was no way a pipe could have suddenly…His thoughts trailed off as he remembered the flower that had visited him before. The flower…Had she wanted to go to the mantelpiece to talk to the pipe? That would mean the flower is the same as the pipe, why had he not seen this sooner? They are approximately the same height, not to mention their faces similar in the aspect they’re black with glowing dots for eyes and mouths.
“You’re…the pipe, my grandfather’s pipe…”
“Yes!”
Seymour took a step back and sat in the chair behind him. He stared at the little thing in his hand one more time before raising the little thing to his eye level. It responded by attaching itself to Seymour’s nose, or as best as it could. The “pipe” smelled like smoke. The Man zoned out as he thought about the possibilities of the pipe turning into this tiny child, his thoughts got deeper and deeper until the pipe’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
“Seymourrrrrrr!” it whined, still clingingly gently to his nose while standing on his palm. He can’t call the pipe “it” and “pipe” forever. The once inanimate object is now a being with a free will, it…he needs a name.
“Seymour!” the pipe shouted once more, clapping his tiny chance against the sides of Seymour’s nose, leaving tiny soot marks upon the man’s nose. He stared up at the man’s eyes and scrunched up his face as he tried to thrive for attention. Seymour let out a small cough, trying to cover his laughter at the expression on the pipe’s face. “Sorry, I was just thinking of a name for you.”
“A name?”
“Yes, a name.”
“…Why?”
“I can’t call you it and pipe forever.”
“Well, what do you have in mind?” The pipe asked, crossing his legs and leaning back with his hands supporting him. He made a sound of complaint when Seymour placed him on the chair’s arm rest.
“Well, how about…Charles?”
“No.”
“Clarence?”
“No.”
“…Clance?”
“Clance?”
“Yes, Clance.”
“I like it, much better than the other names. From now on, I am Clance!” The pipe stood up, striking a sort of victory like pose. Seymour let out a small laugh before giving Clance a gentle stroke on the head. He wasn’t sure what Clance was, but maybe he could look this up. Maybe he could send a letter to the council? He can figure that out later, right now, he needs to set up Clance’s personal corner.
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Posted: Sun Nov 21, 2010 7:23 pm
[ ENTRY - - - December 1410 ]_____________________' ADVENTURE! '
It had only been a a couple of weeks since Clance came to existence and the little being had already gotten into a routine in Seymour’s life. It might have been for his tiny size, but thanks to that, the excito was able to go wherever his grimm is. Whether it is in the forest they live in, or the occasional visits to the nearby town for tool repairs or replacements, the tiny being was able to watch and view the world in his safe little sit in the giant’s pocket.
This continues to be so as Seymour got ready for a trip into the woods once more. The plague sat on the table as he watched his grimm readying his gear for the chilling snow outside. It was always white with the occasional greens and browns from trees, and possibly some other color if they run into an animal. The forest was nothing like the town they have visited oh so much but none the less it was still the world he loves, for this is the world he is much more familiar with. Clance smiled when he saw Seymour’s hand in front of him and immediately stood up to take a sit in the warm palm, he made sure he was comfortable in the man’s pocket before giving the man the okay for the two to head off.
The cold chill of the world around them was beautiful, silent and much, much different from the world of the town. In this white forest, the world was like an adventure. You don’t know when or where you’ll see something like a tiny rabbit, or possibly a herd of animals running by. They were rare events, but most welcomed to make Clance’s outside experience more exciting. The town seems so much like a routine. Maybe even more so than what Seymour has built for them, but at the same time, it felt so very, very warm unlike this frozen forest the two had isolated themselves into.
Maybe eventually they can go and live in the warm town?
Who knows, but it is not the problem right now. Clance could care less about the town for the moment; he was perfectly content with how his life is now. He prefers having his grimm’s attention all to himself then having to share it with others.
“Clance?”
The plague blinked as he heard his name and looked up from the pocket, he gave a slight wave to his grimm with a smile on his face.
“Did you fall asleep?”
“Hmmm? No, nope! I was just thinking!”
“About?”
“Stuff!”
“Right.” Seymour chuckled, before lifting the plague out of his pocket and into his scarf. “Sit here, this way, I can hear you better.”
Snuggling under the warm folds, the plague only laugh.
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Posted: Wed Dec 08, 2010 7:47 pm
[ ENTRY - - - December 1410 ]_____________________' Adventure inside Seymour's Closet '
Tracing the fabric underneath where he sat, the plague made a loud huffing sound before resting his head in his hands. The silent cabin made barely a sound as the lone being within its hold shuffled through the blanket wrapped around him like a nest. It had all started that morning when the two woke up. Seymour had realized they were running short on wood and had decided to go get more. The plague had wanted to go with him, but the grimm told him to stay home. And this had led to this fine predicament.
He was beyond bored.
There was nothing to do in the house without the grimm around, and there was no one for him to talk to. He used to have others to talk to, but the three left like stunted had left on some grand journey across the world or something, they haven’t come home since a week ago. The excito released a loud sigh and stood up, his eyes examining the wooden cabin and its spacious interior.
What was there to do?
The plague’s eyes kept wandering until they caught sight of Seymour’s closet. Clance stared at the large door and pondered, “What could possibly be inside?”
He had seen Seymour pull out his jacket and boots, but that was all. With how big it is there must be more than just those two items, there must! And thus, Clance got himself from the top of the bed and onto the floor. His destination clear and with the convenient hole at the lower right corner of the creaky door, the plague entered.
The closet was dark and the air smelt strangely of mothballs and old fabric. He wrinkled his face in response but continued on his adventure through his grimm’s closet. The place was pretty plain with a couple of Seymour’s extra jackets hanging a top, and his boots lined orderly in the corner. A couple of other things like the broom and a small stalk of boxes also live within this dark space, but otherwise it was relatively empty.
Clance could only feel the disappointment of finding out how normal the closet was before heading back out into the living area.
Where else could he go?
His eyes lead him to the drawers. Should be try? It was very high off the ground, but one of the drawers were left slightly opened. Can he risk it? Heck yes!
The plague let out a childlike laugh before beginning his climb towards the opened drawer. It took him three tries before he could get up there (he fell once and he was sure he would have bruised if he was human), and when he go up there, he was greeted by Seymour’s clothing. That was all there was: clothing.
Clance could only let out another disheartened sigh before flopping onto the material within the drawer. It felt comfy at least, and…his mind blanked for a moment, what was he thinking? The excito let out a yarn before rolling over onto his stomach. Why was he so sleepy? Was climbing up here really that tiring? His body answered for him as he let out another yarn. Maybe he should take a nap and maybe the next time he opens his eyes, Seymour would be home.
And indeed Clance was right because by the time he woke up again he could hear the frantic shuffling of Seymour trying to find him. The plague made an effort to go greet the man, only to end up with a long lecture from the man for making him worry. He also got scold for doing dangerous things.
The day didn’t end as he had hope.
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Posted: Wed Dec 08, 2010 7:51 pm
[ ENTRY - - - December 1410 ]_____________________' New Additions to the Family '
  Meet Cinderella and Prince
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Posted: Tue Dec 21, 2010 11:49 pm
[ ENTRY - - - December 1410 ]_____________________' Clance & Cinderella '
Upon the birth of the Christmas gifts, Clance was given one mission: keep the two stunted out of trouble and out of harm’s way. The plague understands that, and brilliant shifts into the role of the leader. However, while Clance might have dubbed himself the leader, the other two would say otherwise.
“Why is he the leader?” Cinderella asked, watching from the side as Clance lead Prince around. Those two had hit it off immediately and had taken to each other rather well. However, Cinder just can’t bring herself to like Clance at all. It was strange and the elder plague’s performance just...
The stunted couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but it just...urks her? She paused, trying to figure out if that was the right word, but was cut off as a tiny paper bally zoom right past her. Letting out a squeak, Cinder fell back from where she sat and growled at the two boys. Darn those fools, can’t they see where they were playing? Clance probably saw the irritated expression on the stunted’s face because he immediately jogged over to help her back up. He flashed her an apologetic smile, “Sorry about that Cinder. I didn’t realize the ball would fly that way.”
He checked to make sure she hadn’t suffered any scratches of any sort before taking her by the hand. Cinder would have bristled if she were a cat, and tried to remove her hand from his grasp. She glared, “What are you doing?!”
“Well, it’s better to play with us right? Just sitting over there is boring, and you might get hit again.”
“ No I wo—“
“Does it matter? As long as you play with us, you wouldn’t get hit, you’ll have something else to distract you other than your thoughts, and no one can complain that I didn’t invite you to play with us.”
Cinder let out an irritated sigh and tried to remove herself again, but Clance still refused to let the poor girl have her way. So, in the end, a grudge match between Cinder and Clance started. She would refuse to co-operate, and dodge the ball whenever it was thrown at her. The excito was on the verge of screaming and shoving the stunted off the side of the bed when Seymour came home. And let’s just say, the two didn’t get along until a week later when they had to team up to make sure Prince didn’t try jumping off the counters.
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Posted: Sun Feb 06, 2011 5:53 pm
[ ENTRY - - - February 1411 ]_____________________' Lecture '
I will fill this in later.
This includes Clance failing to keep an eye on Prince, and the stunted falling off the bed.
Seymour finding out, and giving the Excito a small lecture.
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Posted: Sun Feb 06, 2011 6:40 pm
[ ENTRY - - - February 1411 ]_____________________' House of Dolls '
[ House of Dolls ]There were many others here!
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