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 Posted: Sat Dec 13, 2008 5:42 am
[ Maurice and the Glass Marble ]
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Posted: Sat Dec 13, 2008 5:43 am
[ How the River Cuts Its Path ] "... As the river cuts its path
Though the river's proud and strong
It will choose the smoothest course
That's why rivers live so long
They're steady, like the steady beating drum ..."
[ n a v i g a t i o n ]
- Maurice and the Glass Marble | Introduction
- How the River Cuts Its Path | Navigation
- The Glass Marble | ???
- The Gypsy Maurice | Maurice
- Steady Goes the Beating Drum | The Wagon
- Faces Down the Road | Acquaintances
- Owning What You Can | Inventory
- I've Just Seen a Face | Pictures
- Let Me Tell You a Story | Data Log
- Farewell | Credits
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Posted: Sat Dec 13, 2008 5:44 am
[ The Glass Marble ] "... A small glass marble found in
The dirt can be a treasure to any child.
This one seems plain, with a good shine
And a very small brown spot in the middle.
Try not to lose it ..."  Name: ---
Nicknames: ---
D.o.B: ---
Age: ---
Species: Glass Marble
Sex: ---
Guardian: Maurice London
Height: Small
Weight: Not Heavy
Hair Color: ---
Eye Color: ---
Complexion: Transparent Blue
Distinguishing Characteristics: Brown Spot
Personality: ---
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Posted: Sat Dec 13, 2008 5:45 am
[ The Gypsy Maurice ] "... In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes
On what wings dare he aspire?
What hand dare seize the fire ..." Name: Maurice London
Nicknames: ---
D.o.B: September 3rd
Age: 27
Species: Human
Sex: Male
Guardian: Maurice London
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 140 lb.
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Dark Brown
Complexion: Tanned
Distinguishing Characteristics: ---
Personality: ---
Background: ---
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Posted: Sat Dec 13, 2008 5:46 am
[ Steady Goes the Beating Drum ]  "... Rolling faintly along on old wheels, the Beating Drum ventures at an even-handed pace. All along the way, it hums its melodic clatter. Rickety-snack, snicker-snack; the wagon rattles on the path. Its rich, forest-like walls tremble from the force of motion, and within the window, the rich red curtains sway.
Branches knick at the designed borders beneath the window sills, and near the short, pale blue-green door. They hack away and knick at the paint, generating a familiar rustic feel. The wagon is worn, tired, as if having traveled through many a path in its day. Nevertheless, it stands with regal attentiveness, and a charmingly characteristic slump. It leans towards the left, each wheel bouncing with the motion, their pale brown circles spinning, then rolling, while the wagon rickety goes along its way. Before it stands three fine figures --- two fine figures. The pair of Clydesdale horses step in rhythm with one another, pulling vigorously in counter. Power pulls with elegance. The young mare with her reddish mane strides with force and zeal. Powerful, stern, with a keen backbone and heart. Her eyes blaze with alighted fire. At her side strides her counter, an aging stallion. Tall, straight, and tame, trudging with regal elegance and dedication, the stallion appears to have many a story within its graying hairs and dimming black mane. His eyes are focused. The calm storm raging within his heart draws within his every step. Shaggy hoof after shaggy hoof, they carry on.
As for the third figure: Short, stout, and unconfined by the wooden bars of wagon-pulling, waddles the small Shetland pony. His head rattles in directional fashion as he leads the pace. A navigational guide. A drum leading the troops, the Shetland moves with purpose and care attached to his waddle. Every step leaves a shake to his darkened, ragged mane atop his browning body. His dark eyes never wane as he follows the path like a hound. Only occasionally does he dare glance back at the green wagon and his more impressive counters; but self-conscious he is not. He is an old pony, far older than either stallion or mare, and it is his experience which draws them forward, with only the aid of the man steering from the wagon's seat.
The man is, perhaps, as rustic as his wagon. Distinguished and firm-jawed. He sits with a straightened back. His elbows are stiff, his eyes keen beneath shaggy, dim black bangs - faded and worn in a charcoal mess; his head is covered, slightly, by the fashioned pelt of what may have once been a young deer. The antlers protrude, standing tall against his make-shift hood, guarding his ears from the occasional cough of the breeze. The man is growing. Young, but aging, stiff, but wild, with a glittering happiness trained to his eye as he observes what objects may pass by along any given path. Tanned and defined; he appears a firm worker, perhaps to the point of flaw. Beneath his dark browned eyes, and against his tanned figure, rests darkening circle from sleepless night and late endeavors ... "
The Horses
Ofelia and Tulio
Ofelia (left) is a six year old Clydesdale mare. Of the two horses charged with carrying the Beating Drum, she is most commonly situated to the left. She is perhaps the more wild of the two. Firm, powerful, and eager, Ofelia is prone to picking up the pace of the wagon on her own even if not directed. She shows herself to be a troublesome thing. Nevertheless, there is sweetness and dedication within her heart. For such an untamed beauty, she shows herself to be a remarkable horse, as tender and hard-working as the next. Despite her healthy stature, and bustling personality, Ofelia is prone to periods of sickness during travel. Her favorite treats are often carrots, though she takes kindly to various fruits within her diet. It is not recommended that she be approached or attended by strangers.
In terms of coloration, Ofelia is the 'lightest' of the two Clydesdale horses, by observation. Her coloration is technically on-par with her counter's coloration, with the exception that her mane, and tail, maintain a cherry-red hue as opposed to being a fading black. The white strip along her nose is also longer, as are the white strips that lead up her legs from her hooves.
Tulio (right) is a fifteen year old Clydesdale stallion. Old and waning, he doesn't appear to have as much energy as his counter. Nevertheless, there is a steady, elegant motion to his stride. Of the two horses, he is the larger, in weight, and in height. He stands with a regal posture, and each step is given with knowing knowledge. Even if he doesn't know where he is going, his pattern of motion gives the illusion that he does know. He is a certain creature, and far more gentle than his counter. Of the two, approaching him tends to be an easier task, and he is an avid recipient of being patted or fed, even by individuals he may not know. His favorite treats tend to be apples.
In terms of his coloration, Tulio tends to appear the 'darker' of the two. Even so, he and Ofelia share the same cherry-red basis with differentiation occurring about the nose, mane, and hooves. Unlike his counter, Tulio's mane is a charcoal, grayish-black, as is his tail. The white strip resting against his face is not located on his nose. Rather, it is extended upward onto his forehead. The white strips about his legs are also smaller in size, though they vary, with the longer lengths appearing in the back.  GasperGasper is a peculiar addition to the Beating Drum's family. He is, perhaps, the oldest of the three horses, though his precise age has never been dictated. Nevertheless, the small Shetland pony is something of a compass leading the way for the Clydesdale horses. Beyond that, his presence and purpose for the wagon appears miniscule, if not mysterious.
Maurice is incredibly fond of the aging pony, though he does not hook or bridle the horse to the wagon. Rather, he permits Gasper to wander freely, and the animal is more than sincere in remaining at its post with poise and purpose. Gasper isn't the sort of creature to wander far from the wagon, though, occasionally, he will be found trotting about on his own or attempting to garner treats from unsuspecting passer-bys.
Gasper's walk tends to be something of a waddle. He hunches and staggers. In many ways, he can be compared to a tortoise. While he is capable of moving rather quickly, it appears to be a general preference on his behalf not to move any faster than he so deems necessary. He is a stable creature, perhaps more outgoing and indulging than either Ofelia or Tulio. Gasper loves children, and will frequently approach them in an attempt to garner their attention. His favorite snack tends to be radishes.
In terms of coloration and physicality, Gasper is the most easy to recognize of the Beating Drum's animals. Gasper is almost a miniature Tulio, sharing the same cherry-red foundations that his peers exhibit. However, Gasper's mane is long, shaggy, and somewhat matted. The black is highlighted with various reds, browns, and dimming grays, as is his tail. He does not appear to have shaggy hooves, nor are there white strips leading up his leg. The strips are black. Beyond his coloration, Gasper is the smallest of the animals. Much smaller than either Ofelia or Tulio.
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Posted: Sat Dec 13, 2008 5:47 am
[ Faces Down the Road ] ... acquaintances
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Posted: Sat Dec 13, 2008 5:48 am
[ Owning What You Can ] ... inventory
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Posted: Sat Dec 13, 2008 5:49 am
[ I've Just Seen a Face ] ... pictures
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Posted: Sat Dec 13, 2008 5:50 am
[ Let Me Tell You a Story ] ... data log
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Posted: Sat Dec 13, 2008 5:51 am
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Posted: Sat Dec 13, 2008 6:06 am
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