|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Sep 17, 2014 7:45 pm
═════════════════════════════════════════ ʘ υ є ɲ
_________JOURNAL CONTENTS
page 2
_________◉ in the name of art [solo]
_________◉ little river, big trouble [prp]
_________◉ tonight we ride [solo]
_________◉ what are you doing? [prp]
_________◉ a rescue party [prp]
_________◉ winter is coming [event solo]
_________◉ unexpected visit [prp]
_________◉ spring showers [event solo]
_________◉ the tattoo [class quest]
_________◉ and so it starts... [prp]
_________◉ edge of the world [prp]
_________◉ Ouen vs. Shalvesta [battle]
_________◉ Ouen vs. Radaku [beast battle]
_________◉ Ouen vs. Aldabuk [beast battle]
page 3
_________◉ bandits for the greater good [solo]
_________◉ as dirty a move [prp]
_________◉ calling the shots [solo]
_________◉ heavy burden [prp]
_________◉ big enough to ride [prp]
_________◉ charitable endeavors [solo]
_________◉ monsters? [event solo]
_________◉ four legs [mount solo]
_________◉ ain't gonna stand to it [growth solo]
_________◉ at large [event solo: battle]
_________◉ Ouen vs. Talin [battle]
_________◉ little bit of chaos [prp]
_________◉ bar brawl barons [prp]
_________◉ the edge of sand and sea [prp]
_________◉ remembering the past [event solo]
page 4
_________◉ barter & haggle [event solo]
_________◉ a bit of a specialty [solo]
_________◉ the tournament [mini-meta]
_________◉ in full swing [prp]
_________◉ creepy crawlies [event battle solo]
_________◉ mysterious wreckage [event solo]
_________◉ rainy season [prp]
_________◉ bundle on the way [prp]
_________◉ the grand market [meta]
_________◉ the big tree [prp]
_________◉ mixed up like that [solo]
_________◉ money-making [prp]
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Sep 19, 2014 12:42 pm
══ SOLO ═══════════════════════════════════════
_________IN THE NAME OF ART
_________Location: Jauhar
“So, you paint?”
The young shifter jumped, letting out an undignified yelp as his little colored pots scattered around him. He had been comfortably perched on a spreading branch, too engrossed in his task of decorating a carved wood platter to have noticed the stranger’s approach.
“Umm… uh… yes?”
Ouen had been watching for a while now, draped over a branch that hung just a few feet overhead. Now, he unfolded his long legs and slipped down onto the painter’s branch, not bothering to wait for an invitation before taking a seat beside him.
“Like, pictures?”
The painter looked timidly at the other shifter, then back down to his platter. On it there was a clearly half-finished depiction of a flying kinfa, so he wasn’t sure about the intent of the stranger’s question.
“Yes?”
Ouen nodded knowingly. “So you, like, paint pictures on things. Right?”
The painter, not knowing what to expect now, seemed to start expecting the worst. Abuse, ridicule, something like that -- not everyone thought artisanal work was a worthwhile way to spend your time. He knew that from experience.
Still, it was a question, and Ouen’s confident gaze demanded an answer. “Umm… yes.”
“Oh. That’s cool.”
After a short while, the painter started to understand that Ouen had no intention to leave him alone. Still nervous, he resumed painting the plate, adding more feathers to the kinfa’s board wingspan. He was several feathers in when the stranger spoke again.
“My name’s Ouen. Who are you?”
The painter wasn’t sure why he had to identify himself in his own tree, but Ouen’s questions were oddly hard to resist.
“Keelan.”
“Keelan. You ever paint like, a really big picture?”
Keelan looked down sheepishly at his plate. He was… sort of new to this painting thing, and even though Ouen looked just as young as him, he found it sort of hard to admit.
“No… just…. little things…”
“You should paint something big. Something everyone can see, y’know?”
“Um… I dunno…”
“C’mon, it’ll be awesome. It’ll look great. That looks great.” He was pointing at the Shifter’s plate, making him blush a deeper shade of gray. “You gotta get people to notice you, you know? That’s how you get ahead, you gotta stand out.”
“I… I… I guess…”
“Sweet. Let’s go, I have an idea.”
***
Keelan was lagging behind him a little, having to balance his satchel of paints as he moved through the trees. Ouen glanced back periodically to make sure he was still in sight, then stopped abruptly when they came to a small single-family settlement. A young, slim female shifter was hanging overhead with a basket, the tips of her fingers stained berry-red.
“Hey, Min! Wanna come do something fun?”
She glanced down at Ouen (and his companion, who had caught up by this point) and frowned. “I have chores.”
“Do you like doing chores?” He countered, leaning to one side with a hand on his hip. Ouen, it seemed, never wanted to stand straight if he could get away with it.
“Don’t be dumb, of course I don’t.”
“Then stop it! C’mon, this is gonna be awesome. Trust me!”
The girl peered at him doubtfully… then slowly began to grin. “Ok, fine. But you’re helping me gather berries for dinner after, or I’m in real trouble.”
Ouen nodded easily -- maybe a little too easily. “Sure, sure. Is your little brother home?”
“You want to take him?”
“He’s cool.”
“He’s little.”
“Little people are useful, Min.” He peered around her shoulder at the tree her family lived in, and figured that the youngling was somewhere in them.”
“Oi, Mahar! Get down here!”
There was a scurry of motion as the diminutive Shifter poked his head out of the foliage, recognised Ouen and broke out into a huge grin. After some impressive acrobatics the kid was in front of him, wide-eyed and eager to hear him out. See? This was why he liked kids.
“Ok, c’mon. We got work to do.”
***
“Ouen, the alkidikes live there!” Min was frowning at him, pointing ahead at the path they were following. Or rather, the path Ouen was following -- the rest of them were following Ouen.
“So?”
“They’ll kill us.”
“Naw they won’t. They’ll like you, anyway.”
“Why?”
“‘cause you’re a girl. And you can kick a**.”
Almost reluctantly, she smiled and rubbed at the back of her neck. Yeah, Ouen was a flatterer, but he wasn’t a liar -- if he said you kicked a**, well, you probably did. Although it didn’t change the fact that he was only saying it to get you to come along.
“We’re not girls.” Keelan mumbled nervously, hugging his satchel to his chest.
“Weeeeell, you’re close enough.”
***
“Ok, Mahar. You’re going to scout. You know how to scout?”
“No.”
“It’s easy. See that big rock up there? That’s where we want to go. But we want to make sure there’s no Alkidike chicks around, right. So what you gotta do is you have to go there quietly, make sure nobody sees you, and take a good look around. Then you come quietly back and tell us if you see any Alkidikes. Cool?”
“Cool!” The youngling was already running, ignoring his sister’s sounds of protest.
***
“No Alkidikes.” Mahar told them proudly.
“Awesome. C’mon!”
Keelan hesitated. “What are we doing?”
“We’re not doing anything. You’re painting.”
Ouen’s so-called idea quickly became apparent. Here, some ancient geological (or maybe godly) event had left behind a huge boulder of granite. It sat smack in the middle of a path used by alkidikes venturing further from their homeland… and it had a temptingly smooth, flat face that just begged to be painted on.
“What should I paint?”
“I dunno, something cool.”
“Animals!” Mahar suggested, kneeling wide-eyed by Keelan’s paints.
“A battle scene.”
“A good-looking warrior.”
“Bugs!”
Keelan frowned at them all, and got to work.
***
“It actually looks good.” Min whispered to him, standing aside as they watched the painter finish up. Mahar had been helping, and was splattered with a dozen colors of paint.
“Yeah.” Ouen nodded. “Told you it was gonna be awesome.”
The rock was now decorated with a stylized design of two circles. The first, inner circle, represented the moon -- Keelan had painted it brilliantly silver-white, glowing at the edges. The outer circle represented the surface of the earth, surrounding and centered on the moon. The space between the two circles was filled with depictions of life; there were animals, plants, Shifters and Alkidikes. Some were gathering food, others were hunting, still others fought with long spears. Keelan, exhausted, held on to a red-tipped brush and was just about to paint the licking flames of a campfire when --
“What is the meaning of this?!”
***
Standing behind them, holding a sword and looking not-at-all impressed was a Shifter warrior, shorter than Ouen but far stronger, older, and… probably wiser.
Ouen turned to Mahar. “Where did he come from?”
“Oh, he was sleeping there when we came.” The youngling pointed to a patch of trees just a short distance away. The warrior’s cloak was still spread out there, marking clearly he place where he’d rested.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You told me to look for Alkidikes.”
Ouen groaned. The warrior began walking towards them, his voice a low, threatening rumble -- “Just you wait until I get you home to your parents, you…”
“Ok, guys?” Ouen turned to his little crew, looking like he was about to resolve everything. They looked at him expectantly.
“RUUUUUUN!!!”
[words | 1266]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Sep 29, 2014 6:47 am
══ PRP ═══════════════════════════════════════ _________LITTLE RIVER, BIG TROUBLE_________Ouen & Ruelash
_________Location: Jauhar
_________Link
_________[ in progress ]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Sep 29, 2014 6:53 am
══ SOLO ═══════════════════════════════════════
_________TONIGHT WE RIDE
_________Location: Jauhar
Where the hell was everyone going?
For the last few nights, Ouen had not managed to catch more than a few hours’ sleep in one shot before being startled awake by the jingling and jangling of travellers moving under the forest canopy. This was somewhat surprising, because:
he had never been a particularly light sleeper, and
the residents of Jauhar usually knew how to cross the jungle quietly.
So why all this ruckus? For the upteenth time, he unfolded himself from his nest, rubbed at his eyes with silver-hued fingers, and peered down at the little procession below him. Surprise surprise -- three Shifters, all armed to the teeth. Again. Ouen had never seen so many damn swords, shields and gauntlets in one place until recently. Nor had he realised how clumsy they all were; rattling back and forth in their sheaths, scraping across scale armor, slowing their wearers down with all that metal.
He yawned and rolled back onto his side. People were strange.
***
The next time a noise roused him from his sleep, his skin was dark and the heat of the sun had begun to sink into the lower reaches of the canopy. He stretched out, groaning a little and dragging his fingers through his hair before taking another peek at the ground below.
The sound had been different this time -- not metal on armor, but the quickened panting of a.... radaku? Yes, there it was, purple-red in hue and just… sitting there. Waiting.
Another movement below alerted him to the fact that the radaku was not alone, but in fact in the company of another Shifter -- a tall, slender man who was sorting through a satchel and muttering to himself. Or was he muttering to the radaku? Either way, it was enough to get him curious. He slid off the branch that had served as his bed and scaled down the tree with easy familiarity, dropping to a crouch in the undergrowth.
The radaku turned to look at him immediately, but the shifter went on rummaging in his bag.
“Hey, stranger. Where’re you goin’?”
The older Shifter shot upright, silver hair flying about him as he reached for his lance and aimed it at the sound of the voice. When his eyes finally fell on the prentice, though, he dropped his cautious stance and gave the boy an annoyed look.
“To Tale, busybody. To fight with the resistance. Go back to your mother.”
Ouen made a face, and for a second the stranger looked worried. “She’s not dead, is she? I didn’t mean --”
“Dead?” Ouen quirked an eyebrow. “Not as far as I know. Haven’t seen her in a while though. Hey, what’s in Tale?”
“Where does your mother live?”
“What?” Of all the conversation topics in the world, his mother was probably the least appealing one. “In Ast. But what’s in Tale? Is everyone going there to fight?”
“Those who can. You should stay out of the way, child.”
“I’m not a child. Is that your pet?” He pointed to the radaku that had first attracted his attention. Frankly, the animal was a lot more interesting than war and Tale and his mother. It peered at him with bright, intelligent eyes, then stretched out and moved to stand beside the Shifter with the lance.
“No, she is my mount.”
“Huh?”
The older shifter shook his head and shouldered his pack once again, then turned his pack on the prentice. He lifted one hand to the radaku’s shoulder and then, in one swift movement, he was on the animal’s back.
“Wait, you can do that?”
“I can.” The stranger laughed at the look on his face. “Really, child. Have you never seen a Rider?”
“I said I’m not a child. And… no. I guess not. But… I…”
Despite his constant claims at maturity, he must have looked wide-eyed and amazed enough to warm the Rider’s smile.
“What’s your name, ch -- young man?”
“Ouen.”
“Come, Ouen. Ride with me.”
***
The wind rushed past him like it had never rushed before.
A native to the jungle, the radaku was not hindered by the thick undergrowth or maze-like trails, the sweltering heat or the dim lighting. She simply ran, neck and tail outstretched, muscles bunching beneath Ouen’s hands. Several times she passed by other armed and armored travellers, all of whom stood aside without so much as a complaint. And yet other times she simply turned off the trail to take her own shortcut, bursting through the foiliage without a falter in her step. She ran quickly and quietly and lightly, leaving barely a trace behind her despite the added weight of two Shifters on her back.
Ouen didn’t want her to stop.
***
But she did stop, as all good things inevitably did. Reined in by her master, she slowed to a lope and then paused altogether, stomach inflating and deflating as she caught her breath. Ouen looked behind him quizzically, and found the Rider giving him an expectant look.
“You get off here.”
“Aww, why?”
“We are close to the Tale border now, and you have no place on a battlefield. Head north from here, and stay clear of the Oban frontline.”
The solid, unmoving ground felt strange beneath Ouen’s feet. He kept one hand on the radaku’s flank, sorry to see her gone so soon. Or was it soon? The day had drawn on and the sun was high overhead, strangely visible through the thinning canopy. He was, he realised, on the edges of his familiar home.
The shifter placed his own hand over Ouen’s.
“If you can survive long enough, find me when you’re old enough to hold a lance.”
With a flick of a purple-red tail, they were gone. Ouen watched the empty trail for a time -- he wasn’t sure how long. Finally, he turned away and kicked at some nearby fungus.
“I am old enough. And you didn’t even tell me your name.”
Hell, whatever. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to get involved in this whole war thing anyway. Everyone was so damn serious about it.
_________[words | 1030]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Sep 29, 2014 6:54 am
══ PRP ═══════════════════════════════════════ _________WHAT ARE YOU DOING?_________Ouen & Ta'ruk
_________Location: Jauhar (Near Tale Border)
Ouen saw Ta'ruk being dragged away by an Oban warrior, and decided to pick a fight despite the fact that he was clearly outgunned. With help from Ta'ruk, and thanks to some miraculous stroke of luck, he managed to kill the Oban (with a tree branch!). Ouen and Ta'ruk got to know each other, took care of their wounds and settled down to sleep for the night (after Ouen convinced Ta'ruk to kiss him as a thank-you for the rescue).
_________Link
_________[ COMPLETE ]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Dec 08, 2014 10:46 am
══ PRP ═══════════════════════════════════════ _________A RESCUE PARTY_________Ouen & Mirin
_________Location: Jauhar
_________Link
Ouen spotted a dead radaku on the road. Noticing him, Mirin came down to have a look. They realized that the radaku was one of a pack that was being dragged against their will, and that someone had killed it. They embarked on a rescue mission and soon found the radaku in an Oban mercenary camp. Working together, they managed to free the radaku... and rescue a small pup that Ouen decided to keep as a familiar.
_________[ complete ]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 23, 2015 9:25 am
══ EVENT SOLO ══════════════════════════════════ _________WINTER IS COMING
Quote: The settlements of Tendaji all knew how to take care of themselves during the winter. Zena and Sauti received their usual snow fall, for Zena it was nearly year round and didn't faze them much at all; Tale and Jauhar seemed to retain most of their heat, dropping to milder temperatures; Matori and Oba seemed to flux between mild during the day and a sharp chill in the evenings. But usually it was all under control. Word had passed through the elders and oracles and mystics that this winter was going to be a hard winter. The air would be sharp with cold and snow would fall in all areas of the world, something that had never happened before in Jauhar. It came as a shock when the temperatures began to drop rapidly through the night. Most had thought that it was just a joke. There couldn't possibly be enough cold air to send snow to Jauhar. It was absurd. But it happened, and most of Tendaji wasn't prepared. In the morning everything was frosted over, those in Zena and most of Sauti were barely able to open their doors the snow had risen so high overnight, and those in warmer climates could see the sheet of frost on the ground and the plants around them. If the winter was going to be a long one, they would have to salvage what they could and come up with a plan...
_________Location: JauharThat evening had not been particularly unusual; a chill had settled over the jungle floor with the setting of the sun, but that was pretty normal this time of year. Ouen yawned, rubbed at his bare arms and walked lightly over bulging roots and creeping vines, looking for some good place to sleep. His way was lit by Jauhar’s natural luminescence, and his path chosen by the instinctive knowledge of one who had spent all of his life amongst the trees. The higher he climbed, he knew, the warmer it would get. All he had to do was pick out a tall tree and he would be able to sleep off the cool night in comfort.
A small, long-tailed creature scrambled to follow him every time he turned a corner. The little radaku was content to weave around and sniff and paw at things as long as his Shifter companion was nearby, but wound glance back ever so often to make sure Ouen was in sight.
This arrangement suited Ouen just fine for now, as he liked the pup’s company and didn’t want to have to search for him all the time. But Shenandoah (as Ouen had named him, after a legendary warrior he had stories about) was hardly trained, and when Ouen found a suitable tree it took him some time to coax the animal over. He finally came when Ouen offered bribes of prickly-fruit, and the Shifter scooped him up into his arms the moment he closed his toothy jaw about the treat.
“Hold still.” He warned, and scaled the tree as quickly as possible. Radaku did not climb trees, and Shenandoah never quite seemed to understand what was going on when he was on top of one.
***
He woke with a start, gasping for air.
At first he had no idea what was going on. It was still dark, and silent. Shenandoah was curled peacefully against him, his nose jammed into Ouen’s armpit. But the Shifter was sore, and his fingers felt strange, and his toes felt even stranger. And when he breathed out, panicked, smoke came from his mouth!
The prentice yelped, immediately reaching for his throat -- was he on fire? But there was no heat. There was… nothing! His fingers were numb, and even the familiar shape of his own neck felt strange to him.
It was cold. It was freezing.
The radaku beside him whined at the sudden motion, and wormed closer towards Ouen. He was glad for the added warmth, but as close as they stayed neither of them could fall asleep again. Ouen knew why he was sore, now -- his shoulders were permanently tensed against the cold, and his legs bent awkwardly so that he could tuck his feet under Shenandoah's tail. They lay that way a while, uncomfortable but too tired to move. Finally Ouen sat up, groaning.
“Stay. Stay here.” Ouen tried to tell the radaku, who looked at him with fatigued confusion. “I’ll get us some leaves to hide under.”
He clambered out onto a long branch, swaying uncertainly. His whole body felt stiff and unwilling to respond, and it was only with considerably difficulty that he made his way over to the neighbouring tree, which sported the sort of big, broadly-lobed leaves he was looking for. Creeping up on his tip-toes, he reached to pluck off as many as he could, and of course it was in that precise moment that a mean gust of wind managed to cut it’s way through the thick foliage, hitting him square in the face and sending him swinging backwards. He yelped in surprise, dropping all his leaves and flailing for something to grab on to before he might tumble down to the jungle floor -- fortunately catching a vine in his hand, and clutched onto it for dear life.
From out of the darkness he heard Shenandoah’s nervous cry.
“Stay, Shen, stay! I’m comin’ back real soon!”
He was shivering now, violently so -- nothing like the mild little shivers that came after a swim in a cool stream. He kept one hand on the vine as he reached to pull off a new set of leaves, and finally turned back towards their makeshift nest… only to see Shenondoah balancing sprawled precariously on the middle of the branch he had balanced on, letting out scared whining sounds and clutching at the branch with his puppy paws.
“Aww, Shen, I told you to stay.” Ouen groaned. He wanted to sleep. He was too tired to deal with this. He wanted to cry.
But he sucked it up -- almost literally. He drew in a lungful of freezing cold air, steeled his nerves and crept back out onto the branch. The wind came again, but this time he was ready for it, crouching to keep his balance. He tucked the leaves under one arm and used the other to pick the Radaku up again; this left him with no free arms and a long stretch of branch still before him, with the evil wind swirling around to make it all doubly difficult. But he wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t a kid anymore, and he wasn’t going to cry.
***
They made it across, somehow. They fell back into their nest, and Ouen spread the leaves both under and over them, so that they were sheltered from the wind on all sides. He also undid his oban trophy-sash (leaving his few belongings in a knot on one end), and draped this over their shoulders.
At first it was just as cold as before, and they lay shivering a while, Ouen wondering if all of his effort had been in vain. But after a while their warm breath started to fill the insulated space, and the temperature became bearable.
The snuggled close, Shenandoah’s nose pressed into his neck and Ouen’s arms wrapped around his furry hide, and they slept like that till morning. When they awoke, the sun was strangely feeble and the ground was glittering silver-white. A crust of frost had gathered on their leaf shelter, and Ouen shook his head at the sight in bewilderment.
_________[words | 1032]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Feb 11, 2015 10:00 am
══ PRP ═══════════════════════════════════════ _________UNEXPECTED VISIT_________Ouen & Keelthy
_________Location: Jauhar
_________Link
When his new radaku companion, Shenandoah, ran into an Oban camp, Ouen was forced to cautiously follow him in so as to retrieve him. He found Shen eating food offered by an Oban dancer named Keelthy. Although their exchange was quite tense at first, once the two got to talking they warmed up to each other. It was Ouen's first encounter with anyone of so-called 'noble' blood, and he was somewhat fascinated by the boy's speech patterns, grace and... overall looks.
_________[ complete ]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Stereochrome rolled 2 4-sided dice:
1, 3
Total: 4 (2-8)
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 26, 2015 11:27 am
══ EVENT SOLO ══════════════════════════════════ _________SPRING SHOWERSQuote: After the frigid chill of the harsh winter had left Tendaji, it seemed that most were happy to just return to their normal routines, though the normal routine didn’t seem to be what the weather had in mind. It wasn’t long before almost everywhere noticed the way that the winter air had seemed to push precipitation onto the land in its place. Rain flowed seemingly non-stop, reaching all the areas of Tendaji, even frozen Zena saw its share of rain, though the temperatures were still much too cold to support such a thing and rain turned to hail, which froze over the ground. The critters of Tendaji only wanted to seek shelter from their flooded homes and the wet downpour that surrounded them. They found their way into homes, huts, sheds, anywhere that could stay dry - and preferrably warm.
_________Result: 20 Illi
“Dang it, Shen, ‘s like the whole sky’s against us.”
They were drenched. First they were frozen, and now they were drenched.
Honestly? Honestly, he was starting to think that maybe the cold was better. At least you could deal with the cold. It had taken Ouen a bit of time to adjust, but they’d figured it out, the two of them -- instead of climbing high in the trees like the shifter would normally do, they stuck to the ground, sleeping in abandoned burrows and things like that. The ground was warmer than the air, and if you kept something over your head to trap in the heat your own body gave off, you did alright for the night.
But now all the burrows were knee-deep pools of mud, and the whole jungle was like one big swampy river bed. And still it rained!
The radaku pup let out a whine, pacing in a little circle and trying to shake the water out of his fur. He looked miserable -- mud up to his belly, fur matted, dripping from his muzzle to the tip of his tail. Both of them looked miserable, actually. Miserable and exhausted. There was no longer any comfortable place to sleep, and they were running on very little energy.
“C’mon, ‘m sure we gonna find some shelter soon.”
They both squared their shoulders against the rain, and travelled on.
***
The only thing they found was an abandoned hut of some sort; it wasn’t built in the local style, so he figured maybe it was left by the Obans during the conflict. He’d been seeing other hints of the recent war, now that he was travelling closer to the Oban border, and through the the part of Jauhur that had been hardest hit by the invasion. This particular structure looked like it was about to fall apart… but a peek in through the rotting curtain revealed that it had actually been quite cleverly-built on a well-drained rock outcrop, and that the inside was fairly dry.
By ‘fairly dry’, of course, he meant that it was only somewhat damp, and not another muddy puddle.
“We’ll hang out here a while, c’mon.”
Both of them were hungry, but in no mood to search for food -- all they could do was find the driest damp spot under that leaking roof and lie down on their sides. On any normal day this would hardly be considered a comfortable bed, but neither of them were feeling picky anymore. They closed their eyes, and soon nodded off.
***
When he woke up, Shenandoah was glowing. Huh.
… Wait, what?
Actually, Ouen soon noticed, he was glowing too. There was light coming up from underneath the both of them, as if they had fallen sleep on some phosphorescent plant and not wet dirt. Strange lights were not at all unusual in the jungle, really, but these were wriggling, and --
“Ewww, illi!” He jumped up, waking the radaku with the sudden noise. The pup noticed the same thing, and started yapping in dizzying circles, shaking of the glowing worms that had lodged in it’s fur. Some of these flying worms hit Ouen, which was… well, it was gross, but also somewhat comical, and soon enough he was laughing as he tried to wipe them off his clothes. There were at least… ten, fifteen, twenty of them, and they were everywhere, tangled up in his sash and crawling up his pant leg and even in his hair. And the whole time, Shenandoah kept yapping, racing after one wriggling worm or another.
It was clear enough that they would not be able to rest here in peace! Even as Ouen picked the last illo out of his hair, more were crawling in through the cracks in the walls, all of these little creatures trying to keep from drowning.
Oh, well. Ouen supposed he couldn’t blame them.
“C’mon, Shen. We got longer legs than ‘em, we can find somewhere else to sleep. Somewhere with better company than all these damn things!”
Still laughing, he scrambled out of the shack, followed by the radaku. Maybe they’d slept longer than they thought, because he didn’t feel all that exhausted anymore. A little sore, maybe, and still plenty wet, but otherwise in good spirits.
“Who cares about a little rain anyway, huh?” He asked the animal, noting that Shenandoah seemed to have the spring back in his step, his tail held high and his young eyes glimmering with excitement. “To hell with it! You an’ I, we ain’t the type to go hindin’ from rain anyway.”
The downpour seemed to lessen after that, or maybe it just felt like it.
_________[words | 783]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 05, 2015 10:03 am
══ CLASS QUEST ══════════════════════════════════ _________THE TATTOOQuote: Ouen had sat down in the tattooist's seat, ready to get what it was he was aiming for, and after hours of pain as the tattooist's needle piercing into his skin over and over again it was finally finished. And Ouen was proud. As he exited the tattoo shop a kid about Ouen's age and his four friends hung around the outside of the shop. The leader of the group scoffed and ran his mouth, offending Ouen and his newest addition to his body.
Part 1: Minari
Ouen had seen tattoos before, sure. There were plenty of shifters who decorated their skin that way, colored ink in twisting patterns, spidering across pretty much any part of the body. He’d always liked them, too -- and of course he would! Tattoos were cool. Cool people had them. Warriors, and things like that. People that other folks respected, y’know?
And he’d thought about getting one, yeah. Most kids probably did -- but Ouen thought about doing a lot of other things, and rarely committed to one thought for very long.
Then he met Minari.
She was a leaf earthling, a woman of Tale. She was quiet, and did not seem particularly impressed when he interrupted her hunt for some desirable root-moss or other. But the jungle was hot, and when she shrugged out of her cloak he nearly fell off the tree at the sight of her tattoo -- it was unlike any he had seen before, not a decorative pattern of lines but an actual picture. A tree, stylized into a spiderweb of branches with animals folded between them, crowned with so many multi-colored leaves. It took up most of her back, and around the top of it, on her shoulders, there were four suns with earthling-faces with different expressions on each.
She wouldn’t tell him much about it -- what it meant, why she got it, or how come there were four suns. She wouldn’t even tell him what all the animals were, funny-looking critters he had never seen before.
But she let him look, at least. And the slight smile on her lips betrayed the fact that she was not altogether unhappy with his fascination.
Part 2: The Archer
After that, his desire for a tattoo became focused, concrete, and somehow more urgent. Ouen wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt that way about anything before; usually he just wandered, thinking things up on the spot and doing whatever he felt like doing. He made plans, sure, but they were simple things, stupid pranks and errands that could be completed in an hour or two at most.
This wasn’t like that. It wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment lark. This took some planning.
Firstly -- he needed to find an artist. He’d never asked anyone about their tattoos before, never questioned how they got them; just kind of accepted the work as part of who they were. Now, for a few weeks he would stop every tattooed stranger he met, scrutinize the work (if they stood still for long enough) and demand to know where they got it done.
“You’re too young.” Was the most common response, followed by “Mind your own business!”
Ouen would respond with the rudest words he knew, and continue on.
He met an archer that way, practicing in a rare jungle clearing.
The man looked him over -- this lanky shifter boy, his silver hair a mess, some tattered red rag around his waist and a juvenile radaku sniffing around his feet. He had more muscle on him these days, and a faint shade of stubble on his chin; and he was tall, too, taller than most adolescents. But the indignant spark in his eyes, and the way he held his body… you would never mistake him for an adult. Not yet. But when the archer spoke, it was not the ‘you’re too young’ that Ouen had learned to expect.
“You can’t afford one, kid.”
This was new. “Whaddaya mean, can’t afford one?”
“You look like a tramp. Ay’ten in Emeka did mine, and he doesn’t work for free.”
Part 3: Ay’ten
“I don’t work for free.”
Ay’ten was older than Ouen expected; not some kind of tattooed warrior, but a small, aging shifter without a mark on his own skin. His workshop, however, was beautifully painted from the front door to the roof-rafters, and when Ouen had told him what he wanted, he had responded with a knowing nod. Inside the house there were jars and vials of so many colors, as well as needles and strange tools of that sort.
“I heard that.” Ouen huffed. “But I can work for you. To pay for it.”
“What can you do?”
“Dunno. Anything. I learn fast.”
Shenandoah, the young radaku, wove around the tables and shelves, sniffing at this and that thing. The animal, like Ouen himself, was getting bigger now -- too big to carry the way the prentice once did, but nowhere near as big as he might one day be. Ay’ten watched him a while, apparently unconcerned about his fragile-looking stock.
“My work is worth a lot.” The man finally said. “And yours may well be worth little, if anything at all. It will take a long time.”
“Fine.” Ouen shrugged. “I don’t got anywhere else to be.”
Part 4: Tyro
“You look like a spitorog.” The prentice laughed, hands folded over his chest. He was a local kid, and until Ouen’s arrival he’d been the biggest and the oldest among the prentices. But he was a full head shorter than the other, and none too happy about it.
He’d been coming to bother Ouen when he worked, and there was no shortage of subjects for mockery. Ay’ten had agreed to put him to work… and of course, left him with only the hardest and messiest of chores. Depending on the day he might be grinding dried flowers and sneezing purple-red dust all over his hair, or getting his hands sticky picking the iridescent wings off jungle bugs. Today, he was elbow deep in a pot of bubbling soap-water, struggling to wash the stains out of the cloth rags that the tattoo artist used in his shop.
“Shut up, Tyro.” Ouen grumbled, batting Shenandoah’s nose away from the bubbles -- he was hardly in the mood. “Shut up or I’m gonna make ya sorry.”
“Ooooh.” The kid laughed again. “What’re you gonna do, color my nails purple? I’m soooo scared.”
Ouen stood, knocking soap-water everywhere and balling his (rust-red-colored) hands into fists. “You better be, you lousy --”
“Ouen.” Ay’ten had come outside, and was looking rather unimpressed. “Your childish yelling is not part of our deal.”
Grumbling under his breath, the prentice sat back down and grabbed another handful of cloth.
“Whatever.” Tyro rolled his eyes when the older shifter disappeared. “You’re boring, anyway. All you do is work for that old fogey -- If you asked me, I think he picked you up in the bargain section of a slave-market.”
“Nobody asked you anything.”
Slave-market?! Ouen wanted to throttle the kid. He really, really, really did.
Part 5: The Artist
It did take a long time.
The weather grew hotter, and the work harder. Ouen watched Ay’ten’s clients come and go -- all of them fairly affluent sorts, successful in whatever it was they did and able to pay for his labors without breaking their backs in his yard. He didn’t mind, really. Seeing the tattoos they left with kept him motivated… even if Tyro was still a huge thorn in his side.
Then, one fair-weathered evening, Ay’ten waved Ouen inside his shop.
“I ain’t done with the grinding.” Ouen warned him studying his worn-down fingernails. “If you want something else done, I won’t be able able to get it started ‘till after. If I’m still awake then. I’ve been workin’ since dawn!”
“Bring in what you have. You’re done.”
Relieved, Ouen looked up and saw the artist at his station, lighting a candle and preparing his tools.
“Sweet. Didn’t know you had a client tonight. Can I watch?” He liked watching, when Ay’ten was in the right mood to let him.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Ay’ten laughed. He rarely laughed. “I said you’re done. Bring the powders inside and sit down.”
“Wait.” Ouen took a step back instead. “Like, done done?”
“Now you sound like a jungle bird. Don’t waste time, this is going to take all night as it is.”
With a broad grin, the prentice turned on his heel and ran to fetch the last batch of pigment he would ever have to grind.
Part 6: The Tattoo
It hurt. It hurt a lot.
Ay’ten worked at night, while his skin was silver-pale and easier to see against. Ouen was worn out and aching from a long day of work, but sleep was out of the question -- he had to sit upright, his skin was burning, and his shoulder was sore from being held in the same place for so long.
But he sat still, and distracted himself by running his fingers up and down the sleeping Shenandoah's long tail.
Part 7: The Gang
The dawning day turned him dark gray again, but the colors on his skin stayed vibrant and bright. Ouen had been staring at them for something like fifteen minutes now, resisting the urge to touch (like Ay’ten warned him he should) and hardly able to believe his eyes. It was… there. Right there. On his skin. Forever. And it was amazing.
Finally, when he has said his thank-yous and goodbyes to the old artist, he stepped outside dreaming of all the hushed gazes and impressed whispers he might encounter.
“What is that?”
The first voice he heard was all too familiar -- Tyro’s lazy drawl, the prentice leaning up against a fence-post and pointing at Ouen’s tattoo. “Did you do it yourself?”
Ouen bit down on his lip. “What’d I tell you ‘bout shuttin’ up?”
“You must’ve done it yourself.” The boy continued. “With one eye closed, while your master was sleeping. Right?”
Ouen was about to protest, but apparently the question had not been meant for him.
“Yeah!” Another prentice called out, resting just a few feet away. “Done it himself!”
“With both eyes closed, if you ask me.” Added another.
“Yeah, looks like it.” The third nodded… although the way he was looking at Ouen’s shoulder suggested that he wanted to say something entirely different.
“That’s probably why your master is kicking you out!” Howled the fourth, looking quite pleased with this clever quip. Tyro certainly thought it was clever, because his eyes lit up at the words.
“Yeah! You’re such a wreck you don’t even make a good slave for him. Now go on and run out of town, see what people think of you and that thing on our shoulder.”
Ouen couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take this garbage. Tattoos were supposed to make people respect you, not this nonsense!
“You’re insultin’ me.” He warned, taking a step towards the boy. “I don’t take well to that. And you’re insultin’ Ay’ten, too. He worked all night on this, and all you are’s jealous he’ll never give you the same chance.”
“Oh, I’m jealous, am I?” Tyro looked back at his gang, promoting them to guffaw. “Tell me, tramp, why would I be jealous that I don’t have a chance to work like a sla --”
He didn’t finish his insult, because this time Ouen’s fist knocked it straight out of his mouth (along with a tooth… or two). The boy flew back onto the ground, blood streaming from his lip. He looked stunned -- used, perhaps, to being the biggest kid in town, he’d never had to pick a fight with someone of his own caliber. Then again… this was somewhat new to Ouen, too. Sure, the shifter had always been a bit of a scrapper, and he’d always been a bit tall-ish for his kind. But until the last short while he had also been skinny and light, and usually his fights had more hair-pulling and screaming, messy tumbles between stupid children.
This time, his blow had come hard and solid, hard-earned muscle rippling across his back.
The perceived change was enough to stun him, looking from his fist to the boy on the ground.
“Get him!” Tyro shrieked. “Don’t just stand there, get him!”
The other four pounced. Now, with five against one, the fight dissolved into chaos. Ouen was the tallest, but Tyro and his gang were born scrappers. The older three weren’t exactly lightweights, either, and quickly managed to pull him down to the ground where his advantage was lost amongst a flurry of kicks and blows.
“You think I’m scared of you?!” Tyro was shouting, his own fists now landing across Ouen’s chest and (incredibly tender) shoulder. “I’m not scared of you! You’re nothing but a tramp!” The three largest prentices were now focusing their attention on him, while the younger two had their hands full keeping Shenandoah from running (teeth bared) to his companion’s side. Ouen didn’t have much of a chance to fight back or even reply, not with blood streaming from his lips and two boys holding down each of his arms.
It was early, and nobody in town seemed to want to come to his aid. Ay’ten was probably asleep after his night at work, and anyhow -- all his obligations to Ouen were finished, if he ever had any to begin with. Ouen gasped against the next volley of blows, and despite the aching fire of his wounded pride, fell slack in defeat.
“Had enough?” Tyro grinned, feeling his opponent give way.
Ouen bit down on his lip and looked away from them.
“Speak up!” The prentice threatened, fist hovering over his head. “Speak up or I’ll make you!”
This wasn’t worth it, he told himself. They were stupid kids, and they weren’t worth it. They were lying about his tattoo, they were lying about him being a slave, and they were only attacking him because there were five of them, five stinking cowards against one tired, sore and aching prentice. He knew that, he knew all that, and still --
It was hard. Hard to admit defeat.
Tyro’s fist came down again, right against his ear. Ouen cried out, his head ringing.
“You had enough??!”
He couldn’t look the idiot in the eye.
“Y--yeah.”
“You gonna show your face in this town again?”
“No.”
“Fine.” Tyro hissed. Apparently, he had nothing clever to say. He and the rest of his goons released Ouen and ran off before anyone came out of their houses to investigate, leaving Shenandoah to approach him with a wounded sort of whine.
“Sorry, Shen.” Ouen grumbled, not feeling particularly… cool, or respected, or anything else except pained and humiliated. He got to his feet and limped towards the cover of dark jungle, where he could sleep off his aches without anyone else to bother him.
“They’re wrong, anyway.” He told the trailing radaku as he walked, brushing the dirt off his shoulder. “I ain’t a slave, and it’s a damn good tattoo.”
_________[words | 2460]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2015 7:43 am
══ PRP ═══════════════════════════════════════ _________AND SO IT STARTS..._________Ouen & Talin
_________Location: Jauhar
_________Link
Having heard word of a group of bandits that steal from rich Oban merchants and hand out the spoils to the poor and war-ravaged regions of Jauhar, Ouen decided that this sounds like something he'd like to get involved in. He tracks down Talin, the group's leader and asks to join the band. He feels confident in his young adulthood and his new-found combat skills with a lance, and is eager to prove himself in battle (and to seek adventure). After some brief testing, he's allowed into the band -- and gets to thinking that maybe he was meant for this sort of living.
_________[ complete ]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2015 7:44 am
══ PRP ═══════════════════════════════════════ _________EDGE OF THE WORLD_________Ouen & Mano
_________Location: Edge of Jauhar, shoreline
Finally wandering to the edges of his beloved jungle, Ouen came to the shores of Tendaji for the first time, and saw the sea. He also saw a particularly attractive water earthling. Besides being drop-dead-gorgeous, Mano turned out to be fantastic company. After getting to know each other, two two spent the night together and... err, got to know each other a little better. They hung around the next day too, but had to part ways afterwards. Despite his thirst for adventure, Ouen felt a little reluctant... was he getting ahead of himself, or was there something genuinely special about this guy?
_________Link
_________[ COMPLETE ]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Aug 27, 2015 7:17 am
══ BATTLE ═══════════════════════════════════════ _________vs. SHALVESTA_________Ouen & Shalvesta
_________Location: Jauhar
_________Link
Armed with his new lance, Ouen was just begging for a fight... and he found one. An Oban wandering around the jungle insulted him and his kind, an offence that he simply could not abide by. However, his opponent was clearly the more experienced fighter, and Ouen did not fare too well in the match.
_________[ complete | loss ]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Aug 27, 2015 7:20 am
══ BEAST BATTLE ═══════════════════════════════════════ _________vs. RADAKU_________Ouen vs. Radaku
_________Location: Jauhar
_________Link
Ouen encountered a rather territorial radaku. He thought Shenandoah might be of some assistance in fighting the beast off, but the younger animal turned tail and ran! Maybe he needs some combat lessons...
_________[ result: loss ]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Oct 14, 2015 9:33 am
══ BEAST BATTLE ═══════════════════════════════════════ _________vs. ALDABUK_________Ouen vs. Aldabuk
_________Location: Tale
_________Link
A tentative foray into Tale is waylaid by an angry Aldabuk. At least he managed to stay out of the way (mostly) and came out of the fight without getting a horn skewered through his stomach.
_________[ result: loss ]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
