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 Posted: Thu Feb 23, 2012 1:13 am
Evelyn chewed her bottom lip nervously and pulled at her sleeves, then her scarf. Her eyes shifted about, attempting to come up with something that didn’t sound completely insane. Then she locked eyes and her words just tumbled out awkwardly, like word vomit. Her overlord must be having a field day.
“What exactly was the ratio of males to females? I mean, if males were slaves, you’d need a fair amount to make sure that every…employer was…satisfied. Moreover, what of the men who were deemed unfit to work. Or do such even exist? Were there ever any uprisings? I can hardly imagine staying silent if one of my brothers was taken and used as a slave. Was there any way to stop someone from being a slave? Anyway to…I don’t know, buy them out of it? What did you even learn at school? And did the girls learn anything too? I mean, I can imagine some of them not seeing the point, if everything in the world is given to them. Is it really all that uncommon for people there to be born with magic? How do you even hide magic? And because now it’s in my head, did you have candy?”
Evelyn stopped and covered her mouth, only to drop her hand to her lap and tug at her sleeves and stare at her lap.
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Posted: Thu Feb 23, 2012 9:05 am
Jessie took a deep breath as all the eyes turned back to him. "Okay... let's see..."
He brought up a hand, rubbed his temple for a moment, and then pushed some loose hair back. "I... would say... the ratio is... probably about the same. It depends; it varies from place to place, I suppose. And it is not like... slavery as you're thinking about. With say, one woman owning a coterie of slaves, which directly 'belong' to them. Some do. The matrons, who are the heads of the Houses, and their daughters. They are very privileged. Usually, one individual man does not serve one individual woman. We serve all women. It is... a bit chaotic. Lots of things are like that."
"You have to be fit to do something. If you aren't, you die! Men are worthless enough fully physically capable. If you get permanently injured, or something else, your life will end, very quickly. Our lifestyle is insanely competitive, for men and women."
"Our goddess is at the root of that," Cressa butted in, "She is a goddess of chaos. Her followers are encouraged to be ruthless with each other in day to day life. We're driven to compete, and if we don't live up to the standards set for us, we pay for it. Like spiders. Spiders, tearing each other limb from limb."
One of the boys was looking puzzled. "But... how can you serve all the women? How does that even work? You can't belong to everyone."
Jessie gave a little, wry smile. "On the contrary, we can, and we do. In fact, it's surprisingly easy for your body to be common property. We learn from a very young age where our place is. Any woman who wants you, you must obey them, and you must do it quietly, without question or complaint. A woman says 'Come with me,' you go with her. Quietly. She could take you anywhere. She could do anything with you. It doesn't matter what she wants you for. You do it."
"Or else."
"Or else. Yes, that's implicit. But really, we just don't know any other way. Whenever a woman talks to us, it is generally to give an order, or ask a question. Oh, and we are never addressed by our names. Eventually, everything starts to sound like 'Do it, or else.' Yes, it took me a while to adjust to that once I left home. I was not used to being treated like a person. By women, I mean. No, well, in general."
"And there's no money involved?"
"I was sold only once or twice," Jessie said, with the air of one just remembering an interesting fact, and not a horrific reality. "And only for temporary needs. No, I didn't get that money, though - the slaver did."
"What kind of things did they make you do?" a girl whispered, her eyes wide and shocked.
"Well, large, strong men, you know, they do construction work, they lift... they do farm work, if some overseer needs an extra pair of hands. I never really did much of that myself. Some are plucked to deliver messages or transport little things - I did a bit of that. But I was more... socially desireable."
"He's very pretty."
"Socially desireable. I... was chosen to attend balls, parties."
"Arm candy."
"Arm candy, yes. I had my uses. I could dance, I could sing... I knew all the formal dances... I once danced at the avvyl'd'ilhar, you know," he said, turning to say this to Cressa, who was nodding with understanding. "With my... my Ehmtua'il." His Mistress. Of course, he didn't want to say Mistress, because it had other connotations to the humans. Really, he meant his owner. "Polite conversation, graces. And other things they wanted me for. Whatever they wanted me for."
That sounded more ominous than he'd intended, but thankfully another student jumped in. "I thought you were a warrior...?"
"Oh, yes, this is just what I did when I got unlucky. When someone... picked me up. I tried to keep out of the way as much as possible, but as sure as you can't outrun time, you can't escape from your place for long. Once you leave childhood, as a man, you are common property, like chattel, and you're traded and sold and passed around and generally otherwise treated as such."
"What's the transition point from childhood? Does it happen automatically-?"
But Jessie had already held up his hand to stop him. "No. No, let's not go into that." He said no more, but this only contributed to the feeling that they were skipping over something very unpleasant. "School. School... let me see... We learned to read, write, theology, archery, poetry, singing, the basics of magic and alchemy. History. Lore. Lots of things. Girls learn similar things, except for fighting and magic... and they also learn things like needlecraft, instruments, though most men play instruments, too. I never learned, myself. I learned to read music, but I spent much more time dancing and practising my swordplay. Our mothers usually hire private tutors if they want you to particularly excel in an area. Girls are usually taught by their mothers exclusively. Or the mothers at least teach the eldest children, who then teach the others. That's what my mother did. She taught my sisters; they taught me and the rest."
He paused uncertainly, and looked back at Cressa. "What have I forgotten?"
"Magic. No, it isn't that uncommon, to be born with magic. Many people are. In small quantities, usually. If you are naturally powerful enough for them to show themselves regularly, such as I was as a little girl, you have a problem. Because if your powers are strong enough to manifest themselves, they are indeed very difficult to hide. You can do it - with great, great difficulty. It takes the self control and concentration of many years to perfect it. And by then, if you are a woman, the damage has usually already been done."
"We always thought my mother had something of it about her," Jessie said, "Me and my sister, that is. Unspoken thought. We never spoke of it. She never spoke of it. My mother cared about nothing more than her standing - if such a stigmatic shame became common knowledge, it would've destroyed her. Strange things would just happen sometimes, while she was around. And she passed it, we think, down on to one of my littlest sisters. Unnaturally perceptive, she was. She used to have visions. Extraordinary Seer. Of course, no one ever taught her how to use or control it... everybody spent too much time trying to deny it was happening, but looking back, I can see it so clearly."
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Posted: Thu Feb 23, 2012 5:32 pm
Surprised at Jessie's apparent clairvoyance, Forte laughed quietly. After a few minutes of equally hilarious banter back and forth, Jessie began his part of the lecture.
Listening intently, the musician was filled with bouts of interest and shock.
Good merciful Heavens! She thought when Jessie brought up his life in their society. That's terrible...the very thought of belittling another being just infuriates me. Am I ever glad he managed to get himself situated here....
All of a sudden Jessie mentioned music, and of course, Forte was extremely interested. What kind of musician wouldn't be? She considered offering to teach him how to play the organ or piano if he wanted, but she wasn't sure if he would take it the way she meant. The last thing she wanted to do was make him feel uncomfortable.
Thankfully for her, another question popped into her mind.
"Exactly what kinds of magic are commonly used by both males and females?"
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Posted: Fri Feb 24, 2012 12:07 am
Jessie and Cressa looked at each other. "By both?"
"She means individually, I think. There's not much in common. Again, that's tradition. The spheres of the sexes are kept separate. Priestesses wield the power of our Goddess. They can heal, but it isn't the swift, painless sort of healing we're used to here, and not a lot of them specialise in it, so the common people rely on natural doctoring and alchemical potions, if they can afford it. Aside from that, they can control shadow, hex and curse and paralyse and all of that lovely stuff, some dabble in necromancy, of course, many use vicissitude, but as you've seen, that isn't a strictly religious capability. The power is just very much entwined with the history of the church. Many high ranking priestesses wear elaborate masks. They attach them to their faces permanently using it."
"Yes, those masks are something to be feared," Jessie sighed, "Just... what they represent is terrible.
"What they represent is terror."
"Mmm. As for men... we learn pretty much traditional, conventional wizardry," he said, "Elemental magic, illusions, the kind of things you guys already know. My little brother was going to become a wizard. Again, that's traditional - the first son takes up the warrior's arts, the second the magician's."
"What if you had wanted to learn magic?" asked one of the boys again - he sounded affronted by this appalling lack of choice.
Jessie grinned at him. "I was just fortunate that I did not. What I was to become was decided for me from birth, but I didn't really want to do anything else, as far as I can remember anyway. I wasn't bad at spellcasting, but I really didn't take to it like my other studies. I wasn't all that interested."
"Show us!" one of the girls said excitedly, "Show us magic like they taught you!"
"Oh, Jesus..."
A few other voices chorused in agreement. He looked to Cressa for support, but as he turned to her she plonked a basic wand on the table in front of him. "There you go - a focus."
"You really just want to embarrass me in front of your advanced students, don't you?"
He sighed. "Alright, I'll give it a try."
He picked up the wand, and decided to ignite the tip. Concentration alone wouldn't do it, however - he was far too out of practise. So he played it safe and recited a short spell that should've, with some focus, produced a small puff of fire from the tip.
Nothing happened. Anticlimax.
Jessie blinked, disconcerted, and then gave a little shrug. "...Well, I haven't done this since I was at school," he said, forgiving himself.
With another sigh, he decided to use an even more fool-proof method. Taking a few moments to still and concentrate, he recited the ancient elven command runes for fire invocation, and traced them with his index finger in the air. This time, there was a crackle of power in his words. "Wun - Lar - Chat!"
The tip of the wand ignited with flames, leaping up towards the ceiling in a short-lasting geyser. It died away after a few seconds, leaving a lot of smoke, and the students applauded and cheered.
"Oh, come on now," he laughed at their enthusiasm for his success. Cressa bopped him on the head lightly with the side of her palm.
"What a dirty flame! You need to do some serious work, young man."
"Sorry, Professor! Clams keep eating my homework."
(He said this with a deep look and a smile towards Evelyn, as if to reassure 'No, I haven't forgotten about you. Even with all these other people around me, you're special.' He didn't look at many people like that. Not that anyone noticed, amidst the laughter and the activity.)
"A LIKELY STORY! You think I don't hear that five times a week?!"
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Posted: Sat Feb 25, 2012 3:24 pm
Forte lost it at "Clams keep eating my homework." She burst out laughing so hard she thought she would fall out of her chair and onto the floor. After a few minutes of uninterrupted hysterics, the musician was finally able to regain her composure and relax. But this wouldn't last long, because at that moment, someone was looking for her.
Laramie was wandering the halls frantically, looking for the one person who could possibly help him. Well...not really. In fact, he wasn't sure that she would help him at all. But she was the only person he really knew at the Temple besides his beloved girlfriend, Glee, and since she was, um...in a predicament right now, couldn't really be of assistance.
He didn't know her all that well, but from what he did know the musician was a person that was hard to find if she wasn't in the Music Room. And unfortunately for him, she wasn't. Another problem was the boy didn't really know her name. Sure they had gone to the same high school, but the only name he'd really known for her was "Organ Girl" or anything similar. So even if he did find her, he had no idea what to call her.
The former lacrosse player ran past the classroom where the two elves were teaching. An incantation could be heard from inside. Thinking nothing of it, he continued searching.
"Where is she?" he asked. "Dammit, if only I knew her better..."
He ended up in the library and, upon seeing a few people, decided to ask around to see if anyone there knew her whereabouts.
"Excuse me, but have you seen a girl with, um...a...pillbox hat I think and old-fashioned clothes anywhere today?" Laramie asked a boy who happened to be browsing the shelves. "She's usually in the Music Room but she's not there now, and I've been looking everywhere for her."
The black-haired boy thought a moment. "Um, I think I saw her go out earlier," he told Laramie. "She's in one of the classrooms I think. The one where the Spellcasting Mistress is teaching."
"And where is that?"
The boy instructed Laramie on how to get there and Laramie thanked him for his help. When he reached the room, he suddenly felt overcome by nerves. But why? Was he afraid he would get in trouble if he disturbed the class? He shook his head. This was an urgent matter, and he needed help. And since the musician was the only one he knew besides his girlfriend, she was the only person he could turn to.
Breathing deeply, Laramie knocked on the classroom door and waited for a response.
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Posted: Sat Feb 25, 2012 3:28 pm
The knock at the door came just as everyone was settling down from the happy fun times. People were chatting and giggling. "WHAT'S THE PASSWORD?" Cressa called to the door.
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Posted: Sat Feb 25, 2012 3:33 pm
Laramie stared at the door in confusion. He hadn't expected that. Of course, since he'd never met Cressa he didn't know what her sense of humor was like, so he took her seriously.
"Umm," he said. "I'm sorry; I don't know what the password is, but this is an emergency. I was told that the girl who plays the organ is in this room, and I need to talk to her, please. I need her help."
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Posted: Sat Feb 25, 2012 3:39 pm
"ACCESS DENIED," Cressa gleefully replied, "One of five attempts used!"
Jessie rolled his eye, smirking at his mate's antics. "You are unbelievable. Forte. If you want to go with him, you may go."
Cressa didn't argue, even though it was her student he was dismissing. Perhaps she had annoying'd herself out for the time being. She just smiled and nodded in agreement.
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Posted: Sat Feb 25, 2012 4:30 pm
The composer knew exactly who the person on the other side of the door was the minute she heard him. Sighing, she rubbed her forehead to show her annoyance.
But despite her frustration, the boy did say it was an emergency.
"So typical of him to not even address me by name," Forte said. "But if it's an emergency and I am needed, I shall go." She got up and headed for the door, but as she neared it, turned back around to face Jessie and Cressa. "Thank you very much for letting me go," she told them, bowing her head slightly to show her gratitude.
Opening the door, her eyes fell on Laramie, who looked relieved to say the least. She let the door close behind her.
"Before we go anywhere let me make it known that I am very displeased about having to leave class early," Forte said sternly, arms crossed. Her normally calm, clear voice was very harsh. "And mark my words, if this so-called 'emergency' is anything but, I swear to the Heavens above I will take you and hang you on the nearest tree upside down by your ankles."
Laramie gulped uneasily. "Umm...o--kay," he said nervously.
Although he knew very little about this girl, he knew one thing: she was extremely serious right now, and judging by her usual demeanor (somewhat intimidating, slightly creepy and the like), he knew something like that was well within her abilities.
"Like I said, I need your help," Laramie said. "I was out walking with Glee when a group of kids took this girl's phone and threw it into a busted tree on the beach. You'll see what I mean when we get there. Well, she tried to get it out and ended up getting stuck. I went to get help. We needed someone else to help pull her out."
Forte mulled this over for a minute. "Who is this girl?" she asked.
The boy wavered.
"And where exactly is Glee?"
Laramie bit his lip. Shoot. And he'd done so well so far. There was no use hiding it; he couldn't lie to her anymore. Seriously, dealing with women scared the life out of him sometimes.
"Well...she kind of...is Glee."
Forte turned back toward the classroom door.
"Wait! Wait, please," Laramie said, reaching out and grabbing her right arm. "I know how much you two hate each other, but she really needs help right now. I know she probably wouldn't do this for you if the situation was reversed and I know she'll never thank you for it but you're the only person besides her I know here and you're the only person I could ask for help, and trust me, she gets angry quite easily and if we don't get her out soon she's gonna be even more pissed than she is now and I'm her boyfriend so I have to deal with it, and..."
The musician laughed quietly. "Say no more," she told him. "I understand completely." She sighed. "Fine, I will assist you just this once. But do keep in mind that you owe me big time for both my assistance and my missed class time. Got it?"
Without thinking, Laramie answered her straight out. "Yes."
Forte was surprised that he answered her with such certainty. "All right, take me to her," she said, an annoyed tone in her voice.
"Okay," the boy replied. He headed for the door, the musician following close behind. When they arrived at the Temple's main entrance, he turned back around to look at Forte. "I...I just wanted to say...thank you," he said, his face slightly red. "I heard so many rumors about you back in high school, but...I don't believe for a minute that they're true. I mean that seriously."
Again, the musician was surprised. "Well...thank you," she said. "And don't trifle yourself worrying about my help. If there's one thing I do know about Glee it's that she's a spoiled brat, through and through."
Despite the fact that she had just insulted his girlfriend, Laramie didn't deny it. All that was running through his mind as he opened the door and took Forte out to the beach was how he would deal with the situation at hand as well as the two girls.
However, Forte's thought process was a lot simpler.
Of all the times not to have a video camera....
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Posted: Sat Feb 25, 2012 4:39 pm
"Just out of interest, what was the password?"
"The entirety of Ievan Polka, a cappella, complete with spinning green onion."
Jessie looked at her oddly. She shrugged. "Failing that, R.I.P Gregg Jevin would've sufficed."
"Ah yes. A truly great man. He shall be missed."
"Who's Gregg Jevin?" piped up one of the girls.
"Did anyone really know?" Cressa said, with solemnity appropriate to the scale of the loss.
"Now! What were we talking about...? Do we have any more questions?"
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Posted: Sun Feb 26, 2012 4:15 am
Evelyn’s giggles were interrupted by Jessie’s look at her. She smiled while biting her bottom lip. Oh, Overseer, help her. Oh, overlord, please be nicer to her. She twiddled her thumbs through Cressa and Jessie's banter, and contemplated not saying anything else when Cressa asked. Not making a fool of herself. But the evil overlord had other plans.
“Would it be possible for someone in the class to take lessons to learn how to speak Drow?”
Instantly, she covered her mouth and looked away, as if she hadn’t said a thing. Maybe she didn’t. She wasn’t sure. Maybe they would ignore her. Oh, dear. That awful overlord.
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Posted: Sun Feb 26, 2012 7:40 am
Cressa looked intrigued. "Well well! You mean yourself, I suppose?"
"We'd be more than happy to teach you, if you wanted to learn," Jessie said, with a big smile.
"But you're going to have to balance things! Between keeping up on your magic work, your combat, and learning a new language..." said Cressa, with a warning waggle of her index finger.
"I'm sure Evelyn will be able to manage it," he replied confidently. Perhaps overconfidently. Then again, he was already ahead of the game - he practically had a textbook ready for her. He wouldn't bring that up now, though. It was going to be a surprise for tomorrow night...
"And if anyone else would like to learn?" she said, with a little, teasing look at Jessie. He was certainly ready and willing to teach her. One of the girls thrust her hand into the air.
"I'd like to learn!"
Then, much as Evelyn had immediately relented, her hand curled up and flopped back down into her lap. "I probably wouldn't be much good, though... I can't make sense of anything you guys say as it is... I mean, like earlier, when you were talking."
A couple of the others expressed interest, too, perhaps emboldened by her courage.
"Well, excellent. Jessie can take all of the lovely, impressionable young ladies, and all of the handsome young men. And I'll take a nice, long bubble bath."
"We'll take turns," said Jessie, not sounding quite so enthused now. Perhaps he'd been looking forward to private sessions with Evelyn, and the thought of taking on a bunch of students instead left him a little disgruntled. Oh well... such is life. Some of them might give up, anyway. It's a very difficult language, after all. It pretty much ensures that you have to be born into it to truly command it.
"You also wanted to know how our people were banished under the ground, didn't you?" Cressa prompted Evelyn. Of course, she hadn't forgotten from the party those few short weeks ago. Her gaze was intense - she was bursting to tell the story.
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Posted: Tue Feb 28, 2012 7:15 am
Evelyn was completely excited about the thought of taking lessons in Drow. She nearly started bouncing out of her seat, but instead, she just adjusted her sash again and focused on Jessie’s face, until Cressa spoke. Immediately she was filled with excitement, awe, and fear.
“Oh, yes, yes!!! Please!!!”
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Posted: Tue Feb 28, 2012 12:10 pm
Cressa got to her feet, a smile playing on her lips - it was clear that she was getting ready to tell another grand tale. The way she gestured with her arm... she'd smoothly donned the mantle of storyteller.
"Far and wide on the surface, our people are known as drow," she began. "Would it surprise you all to learn that, to us, the term is not only an insult, but a grievous slur against our race, our skin, and a symbol of the eternal prejudice against us?"
Several of the students looked at each other, unnerved indeed. How many of them had casually tossed the word around during that lesson alone? Jessie was nodding solemnly, looking down at the table.
"The first time a human confronted me with the term, I reacted very angrily, I admit. I did not appreciate that its significance on the surface has been long lost to time. It has entered mainstream consciousness, and no longer means anything. But to us, those of us who still speak the ancient dialect, and who have been cast out by the sunlit realms, the sting is still fresh every time. Or it was, at least."
He was descending into dramatics himself, more for Cressa's benefit and pleasure than anything. His participation made her very happy. It heightened the drama. This well made up for being cut off at the party. "Dhaerow," she continued from him, spitting out the offensive word in its elvish form, strange accents made in the throat rather than the mouth, guttural and ancient. "It means 'traitor.' It is the name that was given to us by our enemies, after we fell, when we could no longer defend ourselves. But who were the true betrayers? Who committed genocide against their brethren?"
She held up her ash-coloured hand, sleeve falling back off her forearm. "Who did this to us?"
"To find out, we need to travel to a world very far from here, to a time outside of living memory. We need to go back, back, back, back - to the time of our exile, around twelve thousand years ago, and then back again, further, further, through the ages, to around seventy five thousand years ago. Long before humans. Before gnomes. Even before dwarves!"
As she was speaking, Cressa was playing with magic. The lighting in the room dimmed. Everything grew darker, and then, from where she stood, a kind of ethereal projector screen gradually came into existence. She stepped to the side, and Jessie pulled his chair back to clear the way for the others and get a better look himself. Vast, sweeping landscapes, meadows and forests and waterfalls, swept across the screen. "The surface of our homeworld was virtually untouched, except by the dragons who roamed freely, untameable and unhunted, and the few indigenous sylvan elves who made their little forest homes."
"But it was not to be like this for long."
The scene shifted - to a different sort of world, similar, but stranger. Many things seemed wrong about it. It didn't look natural. Strange, will-o-the-wisp-ish lights floated eerily across the surface of a pond; a great, moss-clothed boulder, impossibly smooth, rose up from the center; and a leafy forest sprung from apparently nowhere beyond. And then a city, like nothing no human had ever seen, spiralling, sweeping, lotus-patterned and honeysuckle-coloured, every branch of rose-coppery metal appearing too delicate to support anything at all. It had no dancing lights around it, but it seemed to emit its own light, and strange, fleeting glimpses of things, like the dazzle on a jewel, occassionally passed over it.
"Our true homeworld," Cressa said, by way of explanation. "Or at least, the homeworld of our greatest ancestors. The realm of faerie. They say that when our homeworld was created by the gods, they were displeased by it, and so they created something even more perfect, something in their own image of what was beautiful and bright and good. This was the faerie realm - a copy of the original, but more than a copy, too. An improvement. And they populated it with fairy creatures: nymphs, selkies, spirits of the air and earth and water, noble creatures that embodied the elements and the seasons, and animals far more intelligent than their earthly counterparts. And the crowning glory, the caretakers, created in the image of the promethean gods, were eladrin - high elves, and fairies, their smaller counterparts and servants."
"I do not know why some eladrin chose to leave the faerie realm. But having met some noble eladrin myself..." Here, she conjured an image of two - elves? Were they elves? They looked like elves, and yet they didn't. Their pale, delicate faces seemed more doll-like than living. They had the strange, serene look of a creature frozen in time, something that almost isn't sure whether it exists or not, but is quietly confident in the fact that it does. Or maybe it only seemed that way, because they looked too strange and perfect to be real. Angelic, even. The only thing they were missing was wings. The pale golden hair streaming down their backs made perfect substitute for halos. "And I am inclined to theorise that it was out of kindness. These creatures are not like you or I. They do not know cruelty. Or rather, they know of it, and it saddens them deeply. These celestials, our ancestors, know nothing but goodness and beauty."
Jessie gave a little, strangled laugh. How far the mighty have fallen, it seemed to say.
"Whatever the reason, some of these celestials left the faerie plane and entered the mortal realm. They worked together for thousands of years, and their civilisations soon spanned the Prime world, carving it up into beautiful, intricate infrastructure."
"But they lost touch with their roots. Being away from the fae world... it... eroded their divine aspects. They became... more human, before humans even existed. They became greedy. Their divinity, their connection to perfection, their sense of being permanent and beautiful, it all turned to pure arrogance. And they began to fight."
The pictures had shifted through some examples of these ancient elven civilisations on the mortal world. Now, it shifted again, to display four different kinds of elf. One was strangely short - the others were tall and slender, much like all the elves the Gaians knew, save the Christmas elves. "So. What are the differences between a sylvan elf, indigenous to the mortal realm, and a high elf, from the land of faerie? Well, superficially, sylvan elves are much smaller than humans. They tend to be a little stockier, but still light. And they have short ears, with only a small upturn at the ends," she said, indicating all of these features on the moving, breathing diagram. "High elves are as tall as humans, if not taller, and slim. We have longer ears. And now, onto the important differences. We do not need to sleep. We can sleep! Sleeping is fun. But we do not need to. Once our bodies have reached maturity, we cease to age. We are immune to illness, disease, and parasites. We do not, therefore, die 'natural' deaths. We are, therefore... immortal, in one sense of the word at least."
"None of you will recognise the elves on the right," Jessie smiled. Cressa put her hand on his shoulder and smiled down at him, too.
"Indeed, I don't believe they shall. Here we have the three main branches of high elves on our mortal homeworld. On the left, the Sun Elves."
The male sun elf was handsomely tanned, with shiny copper-red hair. The lady was pale and golden blonde, though both shared the same emerald-coloured eyes. "They're quite a diverse bunch, but all alike in dignity. In the middle - Moon Elves. They're something of the mysterious sort..."
Indeed, the middle pair of elves had a certain esoteric look about them. Their skin was very, very pale, lavender-hued, and they had inky-black hair reminiscent of the night sky. Most unnerving, though, was the variance in their eyes - the male didn't appear to have an iris. His pupil instead extended outwards, to where the iris should've begun. The effect was disconcerting. But not as disconcerting as the female's, who had no pupil or iris at all, only two vast, milky globes. "They're a very quiet people. They had very little part in the events I'm going to relay to you. Some believe they've all but died out nowadays, or gone into hiding..."
"And these," she continued, indicating the final pair on the right. "Are, believe it or not, Dark Elves!"
Well, they were dark-skinned elves, certainly, but not the kind of dark elf seen on Gaia, nor on Jessie and Cressa's homeworld... nowadays. They had dark olive skin and thick, glossy black hair, and grey and green eyes. Beautiful; Mediterranian-looking. They had a sensuous quality to them that the others lacked. The sun elves looked self-important. The moon elves were indifferent and closed off; distant as, well, the moon. The dark elves had a kind of magnetism. They exuded charm, in a primal, almost visceral sort of attraction. "Yep! That's what we looked like, once upon a time. Well, not us personally. But our ancestors."
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Posted: Tue Feb 28, 2012 5:26 pm
((Updated March 14, 2012...yeah, like forever ago, right? XDD))
"All right, here we are," Laramie said as they approached a group of trees at the edge of the beach. A girl easily recognizable as Glee was indeed stuck inside the broken one, only her feet visible to people walking by.
"Glee? How are you holding up? Are you okay?" the boy asked his girlfriend.
"Gee Laramie, I'm doing just fine, thanks," the girl said sarcastically, her voice echoing from inside the broken tree. "I've been stuck inside a tree having to wait for you to get help for, I don't know...fifteen minutes maybe? How would you be feeling if you were in here?!"
Laramie fell silent. However, the person standing next to him, the girl he'd asked to assist him, was being even quieter, in fact, more quiet than usual.
"A-anyway," Laramie continued, disturbed by the sudden silence, "I went and got help. Now Glee, you have to promise me you'll let her help okay?"
"What do you mean 'promise you to let her help'? As long as they can get me out of this tree I don't care who the help is!"
Suddenly, the girl standing next to Laramie stepped forward.
"Even if it's me?" Forte asked with her arms crossed and a devious look on her face.
Now it was Glee's turn to fall silent. She stopped wriggling and Laramie could tell that she would be ripping into him in 3...2...1...
"YOU SERIOUSLY BROUGHT HER HERE?!" Glee yelled angrily, the echo causing Laramie to cover his ears and Forte to recoil. "YOU BROUGHT THE ORGAN-PLAYING FREAK?! You couldn't have brought Sarah or JoAnne?!"
"Look!" Laramie exclaimed in response. "I don't know this Sarah or this JoAnne! She's the only person besides you I know at the Temple! She was the best I could do!"
After a few more minutes of ranting and raving, Glee finally accepted the dismal truth that Forte would have to help her boyfriend get her out of this troubling ordeal.
"All right, if you could hold the tree here for me that would be great," Laramie said, turning toward the musician.
But she did not move. She stood still, staring at Glee stuck in the broken tree.
"Um...aren't you going to help?"
Still no response.
"Organ girl?"
Finally, the composer looked at Laramie. Her arms still crossed, she inhaled deeply and sighed.
"Five minutes," she said. "Five minutes is all I ask."
Understanding what the girl wanted, Laramie sighed. "Fine, take your five minutes," he said, clearly annoyed.
Forte closed her eyes and bowed her head in gratitude. "Much appreciated," she said. She then did something drastic, or at least, a little drastic.
She let herself fall backward.
Laramie gasped and was about to reach out to try and catch her, but before he could he realized it wasn't necessary. As she fell, the musician snapped her fingers, and beneath her a fancy lawn chair appeared. An umbrella immediately followed, positioned perfectly in the direction of the glare the sun cast at that time. Forte landed comfortably in the chair, a table complete with a strawberry-banana smoothie awaiting her.
Crossing her legs, the girl picked up the smoothie and took a sip.
"Delicious," she said. "Almost as delicious as the schadenfreude I'm about to partake in."
"Schadewha...?" Laramie asked, but then shook his head. He'd have to look it up later.
"What's she doing?" Glee asked.
"She's sitting in a lawn chair she apparently just conjured, and she's sipping a smoothie," he said, still shocked by Forte's use of magic. "She appears to be quite comfortable."
"WHAAAT?!" Glee yelled, both shocked and angry. "What does that organ b*tch think she's doing?! She should be helping me get out of here!!"
She continued to whine as Forte continued to sip her drink and laugh at her. Laramie just stood between them, his desire to smack his head against the neighboring palm tree repeatedly increasing and increasing.
"Oh yes, this is just great," the composer said devilishly. "How pathetic you are, Glee, in your current situation. You think you're so smart, you think you're so cute and clever, and where are you now? Stuck in a tree, helpless before me. And because of your own stupidity, no less! Your own foolishness is the cause of your demise, and yet you cannot help but blame it upon others!"
Forte took another sip of her strawberry-banana smoothie and readjusted her legs. Laramie just stared at her in awe. He was startled by her apparent ability to use magic, her eloquence, her audacity...she was acting so...absolutely villainous, not to mention the fact that she was completely reveling in his girlfriend's misery. And yet he couldn't help but enjoy watching her.
"Um..." he said. "I think it's been more than five minutes now...."
The musician turned to look at him.
"Relax my poor boy, it's only been three," Forte replied, snapping her fingers again. A digital timer appeared on the table to her left, indicating that there was indeed two minutes left to go.
Laramie was sure his jaw hit the sand.
And for the next two minutes, various small events occurred.
From Glee: struggling, yelling, and all-around rage.
From Forte: laughter, periodic sips from her smoothie, and all-around enjoyment of the current situation.
And from Laramie: increased confusion and frustration, followed by repeated facepalms. (He had decided the palm tree would have been too painful, and he needed to remain conscious so that he could help Glee get out of the tree.)
To the boy's relief, the timer went off and as it sounded, Forte glanced at it, finishing the rest of her smoothie.
"Already?" she asked sadly. Whether the sadness was real or fake Laramie couldn't tell. "All right then, if you insist." She stood up and snapped her fingers for a third time. Everything behind the girl disappeared; the chair, the umbrella, the table, everything. Laramie blinked a few times, shocked once again.
"All right can we please just get this over with?" he asked rather harshly. "I think I've had more than I can take for one day."
Forte giggled softly. "For your sake my friend, I shall assist you. But it is as I told you before; I require compensation for my services. I will count my five minutes as part of it."
Laramie said nothing and took his place by Glee. "I want you to hold the tree while I pull her out," he instructed.
Forte, seeing as his patience was wearing thin, did not object. She did as she was told, holding the tree (which she found to be quite loose, indicating the difficulty of doing the job on one's own) in place with her arms and feet. Laramie pulled on his girlfriend's feet and she popped out, flying across the beach and taking him with her. It was like watching two people get shot out of a cannon. Forte laughed quietly to herself.
"You okay honey?" Laramie asked, shaking himself out.
"Huh?" Glee replied, doing the same and checking to see if her cellphone (the cause of this whole ordeal) was safe. To her relief it was, and she responded with, "Yeah."
The boy sighed contentedly. "Well that's good." He stood up and offered his hand to Glee, who took it with a mixture of contempt and grace. Once she was upright, she shot Forte a dagger-like stare, turned on her heel and started walking away. Or more precisely, stumbling away, because she was wearing high heels and walking through sand. Seriously, who does that? Apparently Glee. She can't ever be away from those heels.
Laramie watched her go until she was far enough away, then turned to Forte.
"Thank you," he told her. "Honestly. I couldn't have done it without you."
"Don't fret it," the composer replied, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "It was the least I could do to help you, taking her personality into consideration...."
"No," Laramie told her. "I'm serious. You saved me a whole lot of trouble, and even though she treats you terribly, I'm sure somewhere deep down she's grateful."
"Hah, yeah," Forte said. "Grateful. Please. That girl's got about as much gratitude as a rock. Or that tree you pulled her out of just now." She took pleasure in that last comment, covering her mouth and laughing softly.
For the umpteenth time today, Laramie found himself staring at Forte in awe. Everything about her just fascinated him. Her musical abilities, her appearance, her personality and attitude, and now her magical abilities! How did she even learn to use magic? Normal humans couldn't use magic. So why could she?
Slowly, he found himself inching ever closer to the mysterious young woman. What was he doing? He already had a girlfriend he loved deeply, so why was he moving closer to her? Forte had taken notice of this herself and stepped backward, a strange expression across her face.
"Laramie?" she asked. "Are you okay?"
The boy came to. "Oh, uh, sorry," he said. "I was just thinking. Never mind. I'd better go find Glee now."
"Okay," Forte replied. "Good luck; from how it appeared earlier I would suppose she'd be off stewing somewhere."
"Haha I'm sure," Laramie said. "Bye and...thanks again."
"Don't mention it."
The boy took off in the direction his girlfriend had gone, leaving the musician on the beach alone. Forte watched him go and then turned to face the ocean.
The breeze played in her hair, gently tossing it from side to side as she stared out at the ocean. Overcome with an idea for a potential new song, she headed back to the music room to play the piano.
~~~
Later that evening, Laramie found himself in the library. He'd talked things over with Glee and after some complaining about the help from earlier everything was smoothed over. Well, not exactly everything.
He couldn't help but wonder why he had been inching closer to Forte. What was he going to do once he was face to face with her? He had absolutely no idea. How awkward would that have been? He was aware that she fascinated him, yes, but was it more than just wanting to get to know her better? No, that couldn't be. He was already committed to Glee and although she had her flaws he still loved her. That was for sure.
Suddenly his eyes fell on a dictionary resting on a table. The book was as big as two encyclopedias. Sitting down in a nearby chair, the boy opened it up and looked for a specific word. He found it a few minutes later, after deliberating over how it was spelled:
scha·den·freu·de (n) /ˈSHädənˌfroidə/: Pleasure derived by someone from another person's misfortune
Hah, Laramie thought. So that's what it means.
((Definition courtesy of Google ;D))
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