|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Oct 15, 2007 9:29 pm
While the girl described to Lailia the harshness that the people lived in the cesspit, Tristan had to stop every other sentence. In that moment of pause, he would give the girl a look of disgust, of fear, or he would look passed the girl, maybe at a wall or a tree, and he would involuntarily shiver.
But then, at the girl's request to not even have her descriptions written, the reporter in him began to cry. Tristan stood there, staring at the girl, not quite understanding why she wouldn't want anyone to know about life where she lived, and how the people living in warm houses could help the people where she lived. Having lived in a large, warm, and comfortable environment all his life, he wouldn't know why anyone would want anything different. He wasn't a rich, snobbish man who looked down his nose at the poor, and he wanted to help in the only way he could, but the girl wouldn't let him. He was the only one standing in their little group who didn't know about any scales of good and evil, so he couldn't let it go without a twinge of regret.
Well, there goes his story...He sighed, and smiled at the girl, placing his pen in his coat pocket. He knew when to quit, despite how desprate he was.
"As you wish," he told her quietly.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 16, 2007 5:24 pm
[[Love your signature Fairy!]]
"Perhaps that's best..." Lailia murmured to herself. This talk was altogether depressing to the normally cheerful witch.
She couldn't help but be appalled at the state the Cesspit had once been in. Did she want it to return to that? Of course not. But what she wanted had nothing to do with what had to occur.
The witch thought back to the tarot reading. How easy it was to manipulate those happy people around her... it was pitiable. Through manipulation she might find the key to stirring up evil. She knew now as she looked at Tria and Tristan that she could not cause it herself.
<3
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Oct 18, 2007 6:50 pm
(( Thank you. ^^ ))
Sighing, Tristan looked up at the sky. It was blue, of course, but it was also getting slightly darker. He had slept well passed breakfast, and missed lunch due to the Ojama bit. As of right now, he was thinking that letter was just some prankster trying to play a horrible joke on this poor reporter. Of course, he had also gotten distracted by this girl who came out of nowhere, and told them about the cesspit (he thought she came because somehow she knew that he needed help, but was horribly wrong), he hardly noticed that it was probably close to dinner time. He had to smile at the thought of his mother's face if he were to be late for dinner. Maybe he'll be late just for the hell of it...just to see that woman's face transform. He needed it, having sat through and listened to the girl's horrible descriptions. It made him slightly scared to go to sleep tonight.
(( >> I couldn't think of anything to write that's useful to the rp sweatdrop ))
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 19, 2007 6:37 am
((sorry for being gone for a while.. projects suck. Especially when you don't sleep))
Softly, Tria responded to Tristan's proclamation. "Thank you. It's just, we would prefer no to become a fad. Like, the more money you spend on us, the more station you have. Maybe a noble would even take one of us out there, and it's not like we wouldn't be grateful, but they would lose interest quickly, and there we would be, in a gigantic house all alone. At least in the Cesspit we can stick to what we know and not have to deal with them of high station...unles we choose."
Triandra linked her fingers together and turned her palms outwards. Then she pushed her arms out and raised them above her head. With a large sigh, Tria let them fall to her side. She couldn't wait to bring the nobles down a peg. Tonight she had decided on a target, that lord Varcus. He was evil, so she shouldn't really kill him, but he was also well known.
Lord Varcus was a paranoid lord, over 30 soldiers guarded his house each night,even though it was in the center of the city and down the street from the city guard's base. It would be scary enough that someone could get in there without adding the extra threat of killing him. Yes, a good target.
Triandra glanced at the sun. It was casting long shadows and had begun to set. Supper and then she would be able to harness her powers. And get rid of that annoying puncture.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 19, 2007 5:56 pm
Lailia noticed the others glancing at the sky. She looked up as well. "It's getting late," she announced, for no purpose, as everyone already knew this. "I should be going." She looked back at them. "Maybe I'll see you again?" She smiled a little.
It had been an interesting day. She had met a reporter and a girl from the Cesspit. People that had ventured beyond the palace gates. Lailia looked at the iron bars wistfully.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 19, 2007 9:24 pm
Tristan shrugged and waved off the girl's explanation. He didn't think it'd be like what she thought, but he's learned not to press matters like these any further.
To Lailia's question, he smiled back at her. "Maybe you will," he replied, his smile and chivalry returning. He placed the written on paper in his bag, making a mental note to throw it away for the sake of not being sued by the girl. Hey, it happens. He bowed to the girls. "Ladies," he said in a farewell, and began his trek back to his parents' house.
He didn't want to throw that piece of paper away, but he knew he had to respect the child's wish, regardless of how unfair it was to him. Once again, suing could take place. Nowadays, anybody could go in front of a judge and demand money from someone else. Being a reporter, he had to be extra careful.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Oct 21, 2007 4:08 pm
Lailia waved goodbye and flew back to her room, where she accidentally smashed the closed window in for the second time in that week, and collapsed onto her canopy bed. "It... was a good day today," she said sleepily to herself. With that she quickly fell asleep.
Lailia saw Tristan walking through the streets of the city. But she was running, and soon lost sight of him. And she had never been in the city before... how did she know it? And what was she running from? She couldn't look back... There, ahead of her, she saw the girl Tria, running effortlessly ahead of her, laughing and smiling in a twisted way.
The young witch suddenly awoke. "What a strange dream..." she murmured. Lailia turned onto her other side, looking at the moonlight pouring in through the window, reflecting in the shards still attatched to the window frame.
[[Yeah... no idea what I was doing here. xD]]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 22, 2007 1:27 pm
((sorry for not posting much, without interacting with anyone I'm basically doing things little by little and setting things up for a major event if I'm allowed))
Kino's palm would slam against the top of a wooden table, to be exact, the meeting room at the King's Palace. Of course nobles of different nations, allied to the King would circle the table for the discussion of ... "War is not in the nation's best intrest!" Kino shouted bluntly before the King rose from his seat to overpower Kino's voice. "Do NOT talk to me about the countries best interest boy!" I've been ruling this nation ever since you've been sucking your thumb! Slightly surprised, Kino eyes widened. Kino's teeth would grind angrily before he would bow politely followed by a verbal apology. "Forgive me..."
The little girl who'd once worn not only a simple rag, but dirt on her, now had a lighter glow to her. No longer masked by the dirt, the true colors of her skin was now visible, a more light tan tone. Clothed in a beautiful white dess, gloves, slipper, and even coronet, even a noble could look her directly in the eyes without turning away in disgust, instead, the exact oposite. As she would look around, she'd noticed that a few seats had not been occupied, perhaps due to the knights being unable to retreave the remaining nobles.
In any case, War had been given its possibility of becoming more than just an idea and the discussion was nearly over. Kino, dissatisfied and upset, could only watch as the discussion of war came to end, the girl mimicing his displeased facial expression. If he was unhappy, so was she.
((if the Idea seems bad just say so, I was just thinking that with the assasination of nobles, that the king would suspect other nations.))
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2007 6:49 pm
((Well, maybe just PM me about it quickly.. actually I will. I was planning to start the plot when we'd gotten a few more people, but it doesn't seem like we will get many more. I'll talk to you about how I wanted it to go, just so your idea doesn't conflict with anything major. Also, I'm going to introduce two new major characters, I was hoping someone would take the initiative, but meh. The prince and the Rogue. The prince is here, The rogue will come along later.))
Unnaturally white and sharp, Triandra's teeth were bared in a feral grin. The sun had set, and she was ready. Rags slipped from her body as her night sheet fell off her bed. Tria sat up slowly and looked around her dingy room. It was night. Her body slowly became translucent, the dim light shining through it. And with light, came shadows, these ones twined around her body, dancing to unexisting music, swaying, tilting, curling, embracing the young body of the watcher, then she became invisible.
As Triandra saw through the shadows, her pupils dilating and becoming all you could see of her eyes, she spotted the place she wanted, Varcus's bedroom.
The girl slowly stepped from her lean-to in the Cesspit-- and straight into his room. No more playing around. Harnessing the power of the shadows was Tria's power, and she would use it. To the utmost. The pad of her foot left the uneven planks of wood of her home, paused in the cool realm of darkness, and then jumped to the smooth marble floor of the noble's bedroom. She barely spared a glance for all the fine, expensive furnishings. Disregarded the silk sheets completely. And came to the slumbering body of Lord Varcus. The watcher-woman smiled once more. It had no warmth in it, in fact, her smile seemed to cool the room considerably. Triandra reached for her blade.
She left the same way she came, through the realm of the black god, skipping through space and time. Every trace of her was never left. All that had changed was the color of the silk sheets. From white... to red.
* * * * * * * * *
Prince Matthias sat uncomfortably at his father's side in the meeting room. This talk of war was foolish. Why try to conquer more land when they couldn't even keep care of their own? Besides, with the recent murders, and them advancing in social standing, could they afford to remove their military from their own lands? Better to be on the defense than the offense, in this case anyhow.
A man, one of his father's servants, came to the prince's ear and gave a small speech before retreating. The prince was left, frozen in place. His father, noticing his son's distress, told him to speak up. In a very small voice, the prince announced, "I-it's Lord-- Lord Varcus M'lord." Matthias's eyes wandered to the empty chair. Varcus had once had a seat here, at the meeting room, "well, he's dead father. Victim to one of the murders I suppose."
Matthias' father turned red, then purple. He was infuriated. How could this happen in his kingdom? The one he had spent so much time and effort ridding of it's imperfections?! I knew I should have ridded the country of the Cesspit. They all deserved to be slaughtered with all the taint they breed in. At that thought he glanced over at the child who was in the meeting rooms. Not only were children never allowed to be in this room, but she was a female in the room of men, as well as being from the Cesspit herself. The king suppressed an urge to glare at the man he now thought of as an outsider, the one who had dared to speak against him.
The prince shook his head and stood up to leave, the first after his father dismissed them. Instead of leaving, he hung back, thinking to speak to the rest of the counselors after the king had left. Unfortunately, although he had done well for the kingdom, his father was started to be less and less of what this country needed. Matthias hoped the nobles would take a hint and stay, watching his father's back as he left the room.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Oct 24, 2007 4:13 pm
[[Forgive me for being gone - my county is on fire. I'm quite serious. Don't worry, my part of town is doing fine. ^^]]
Lailia rose from bed and stretched. She noticed she was still wearing her day clothes. She fluffed her skirt out slightly, then headed outside. Something was wrong in the palace...
She wandered the hallways, eventually coming to the rooms where the Lords and Ladies resided. The witch saw two servants standing outside a room that was, if she recalled correctly, Lord Varcus', talking quite animatedly. Yes, there was certainly something wrong. Perhaps Lord Varcus had fallen victim to one of the murderers she had heard about from the kitchen servants?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 26, 2007 11:08 am
Dinner with his parents went quite well, if he would say so himself. But, of course, his mother had to ask him about his interview today, and that made him inwardly cry once again.
"Tristan, did you make it your interview?" were her exact words.
Dinner with his parents was always pleseant(( sp? gonk )), it was their only time that they all could relax, and bond with each other. So, naturally, his mother didn't mean to make him feel more miserable than he already felt, but it happened nonetheless.
"It went quite well, if I do say so myself," he lied. Being a reporter, one would think he would be good at lying...he was good at lying, but not for the reason of him being a reporter. Years and years of adolescent mischeif were to thank for that. Tristan stood up, having finished his meal, excused himself, and went to his room, where he continued from where he left of the night before. He held his trusty pen, and looked at that beautiful pale piece of paper. Now, if only that paper and his pen would make words appear for him, there would be no problem.
About two hours had passed, of him staring at that paper, and he had just about given up when there was an urgent knock on his door. Tristan sighed, and went to stand up, but his door burst open anyway, causing him to jump, for not knowing what was going on, or who would burst into his door like that. His parents would never, even if the house was burning down. His colleague, Brant, stood in the doorway.
"Big news!" the flustered other reporter cried out. "There's a rumor on the street that another murder has taken place!"
Trsitan waved it off, and sat back down. "Wow, another piece to add to my nonexistant work."
Brant laughed and walked to him, putting his hands on Tristan's shoulders. "It should be a cinch to write your paper now. They're saying it was Lord Varcus."
"That pig?" Tristan snorted. He gathered up his pen and little notebook. Despite the fact that he absolutely hated "that pig", it was a big story regardless. "Let's get to the castle right away."
Brant nodded. "Before someone else gets the news." He laughed, he was a very jolly reporter, and followed Tristan out the house, down the street, and to the castle gates, where they were met by the guard who had given Tristan so much trouble before. And, just like before, the guard refused to let the pair in.
((Whoopie, a big post for lack of posting...o_O If that made sense sorta...))
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 26, 2007 4:43 pm
[[Who's gonna let Tristan and Brant in? Lailia would but she's supposed to be checking out the situtation.]]
The young witch walked over to the pair of servants. "May I inquire as to what's going on?" she asked them.
"Lady Lailia, how did you get here so quickly?" the male asked her.
Lailia looked at him. "Does it matter?" she asked, frowning slightly. She turned to the female servant. "Was it a murder?" she prompted.
The girl's eyes were wide and fearful. She glanced at the man. He shrugged. She turned back to Lailia and nodded quickly.
"Lord Varcus then?" Lailia gestured toward his rooms.
Another nod, in which the girl barely inclined her head..
"Come on, let's get out of here," the other servant said, then bowed to Lailia, grasped the girl's arm, and led her hurriedly down the hall and away from Lailia. They soon disappeared.
Lailia murmured to herself, "My, these murders certainly have everyone on edge. But then, it's understandable." She felt slightly sympathetic for the arrogant fool, yet not upset. It was necessary for the proper order of things.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 26, 2007 9:42 pm
(( I had it all planned out..>>; But I was in a hurry so I couldn't finish the post.))
The pair slowly walked away from the castle's gates. It took them nearly ten minutes to give up trying to go in through the front door. The guard had claimed he heard no such rumor about anyone being murdered. Tristan made a comment about how much in the dark (no pun intended, seeing as how it was dark, and the guard was standing there), and he and Brant turned and left.
Once they were out of sight of the front gate, Brant grabbed Tristan's arm, and led him off the road.
"Where are you taking me?" Tristan demanded. "We tried, I'm tired, I wanna go home."
Brant laughed at him. "There's no way we're leaving empty handed!" he replied. They arrived at the castle wall. It was an isolated spot, so no guards, no lights, and probably no safe way of climbing, as Brant explained to Tristan why he had brought him there. He also explained to Tristan, after another round of complaints, that this part of the wall was built with large bricks, making it easy for them climb. Hopefully, Tristan would let his cowardice have a boot kick, and climb over to get the story.
"Don't you want to finish your story before deadline?" Brant egged on.
Tristan sighed, looking up at the top of the wall. Deadline was coming up, and all he really had was great information that he promised he wouldn't use. He didn't really think the murder of Lord Varcus would help him finish his story in time, but at least he would have a story before anyone else, and maybe his boss would let him use this story instead of the one he was assigned.
Tristan agreed, and the two began to climb. Despite the wall being made of brick, it was still hard to get a good hold on the cement. Tristan fell a few times. Brant was used to climbing big, brick walls like this one. He was the one Tristan called when he needed information from the "inside". Brant would be the one to go to the cesspit to get information for Tristan, instead of Tristan having to go himself. It took a few more tries, but Tristan finally made it to the top. Getting down, now, was the hard part. He refused to jump from twenty feet in the air. The argument at this point took another five minutes before Brant just pushed him off the wall, and followed by jumping himself.
Brant looked down at Tristan, who had fallen on face first onto the soft grass. He decided to scout the area, make sure no one was watching this part of the wall, all the while Tristan taking 15 minutes to recover from his fall. He hadn't passed out or died or anything, he was just laying there, getting a hold of his limbs, and his racing heart. In fact, the impact really didn't hurt him all that much; it was the fact that Brant wouldn't think twice before pushing him off a cliff that gave Tristan the need to recover. Brant stood over him, looking around still.
"Doesn't look like anyone's around," he said quietly. Tristan slowly sat up. "We have to be stealthy in order to get into the actual castle."
"Oh great, more spy stuff," rasped Tristan, finally standing up. He had enough already. No point in dying to get a story. He wasn't that dedicated to his work. However, he followed Brant anyway, who had started at a jog towards the castle.
((I'd write more, but I'm about to sleep at my keybard...Besides, I think it's long enough, right? ^^; ))
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 02, 2007 10:40 pm
(( Where is everybody? gonk ))
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Nov 03, 2007 4:30 pm
[[I kind of don't know what to do. I'm waiting for Celestial Lullaby.]]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
