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 Posted: Mon Apr 18, 2011 4:42 pm
Wait for High Tide
Who?
Chauhn Clurie (Storei), Georgie and Adal (Zanaroo)
When?
April 19th, 1411, of the Grand Magus' inauguration.
Where?
Anica, Shyregoed.
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Posted: Sun Jul 10, 2011 3:30 pm
"I don't think we can see a thing from down here, don't you think? There are so many people. It's loud, too. Anyway, why are all of these gents so tall--"
"Oh, be quiet, we can hardly hear you. There's a tree over there, if you feel so inclined."
Georgie puckered his lips.
Four boys were stuck in a labyrinth of bodies in the middle of a place, something they were all quite used to shuffling through. There was a difference, though, as this was no ordinary day and it was definitely no ordinary place-- it was a special occasion, one they tried their damnedest to dress up for (the Lord they were with seemed to help such a case) though they managed to dirty their attire anyway, with the slushy snow and their dirt-encrusted fingers. And, while used to it, Georgie rarely found solace being pressed tightly against the warmth of strange bodies, being pushed around as if he were a rag doll, which led him to cling tightly to Adal's sleeve the entirety of their way there. But he knew that it was somehow important for both his Plague and the Clemmings boys to get a good spot, and he would be patient with them, because he had no plans to get lost during such an event so easily.
The inauguration itself was placed in front of the famous Anican castle, as tradition seemingly went, one that overshadowed even the mountains of Shyregoed that loomed forebodingly behind it. The walls were so high that, even when Adal stretched his neck up to see the sky, he could only find more cobblestone heights, and the gaping windows that were dotted around the castle still looked the size of bugs where they were. The place was frigid and plain, just as the Mages liked it, and there seemed to be very little for miles but stone, and trees were scattered very rarely across the courtyard of the place, their branches brittle and thin. Very few of the windows were lit, and his attention was drawn to the orange backdrop of a colossal balcony placed perhaps a kilometer high from the ground.
"There it is," Adal pointed up at the balcony, his pace quickening at the sight, his eyes intent on the balcony. "Try to find some high ground that's close."
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Posted: Wed Jul 13, 2011 1:57 pm
"It might be that we're just small."
Clurie shoved through two squeezed bodies in the crowd, happily smearing his ash across their clothes in return for being in the way. He wiped his face across his sleeve, further ruining the nice jacket that his Grimm had scrounged for him. He didn't bother to look over his shoulder for the boy who followed behind, who was taking a much slower time of making his way through the crowd. The only reason why he wasn't the fastest of the four urchins burrowing through the crowd today was the same reason why he wasn't the fastest of children back when he was running amok in the streets of coastal Imisese towns: he was polite. Whenever possible, Chauhn would cough, poke, or hang on the hems of sleeves to ask for passage. It was a dreadful habit that Clurie loudly scorned.
"Clemmings, you'll sooner get yourself lost if you keep up with that!" the black eyed Plague hissed back to his Grimm. He resisted the urge to chew on his sleeve, which was already blackening into singed fabric.
Chauhn returned the scathing look with a calm glance of his own, pushing past the last people between him and the rest of the group. "Everyone's so tense already, Ah don't want to step on any toes that might give me a face full of knuckles."
"I'll give you a face full of knuckles if you don't pick up the pace already!" Clurie huffed, pointing up at the tree that Adal was gesturing to. He nodded at the other Plague, folding his arms proudly across his chest. "Well, Adal, if my Grimm is useful for anything, it's climbing. He can find us a good spot provided there's something to climb!" Black eyes followed Chauhn as he moved up to the head of the group, slipping through towards the tree gestured at. Keeping close behind, Clurie reached over to grab a hold of Georgie, who had a death's grip on Adal, and pushed them on through ahead of him so they kept on the other boy's heels as they pitter patted across the cold cobblestone. Above them, crows swirled, mirroring the anxious churn of the people as they awaited the mystery Magus.
Chauhn couldn't help but eye the black crows as he lifted his head to the sky, searching for a healthy tree that might support the weight of the four boys. It was just their luck that the old weather whipped trees in Shyregoad were stout for the most part, only their farthest reaching branches thin and brittle. The base, which was what they needed, as well as some of the branches supporting the rest of the crown, were thick enough to support their bodies. The Clemmings boy lead the way to the tree, pausing only to gather his strength before he sprung up, catching his feet upon the girth and propelling himself up the few inches it took to wrap his arms around the lowermost branch. He then walked his legs up, twisted, and hooked his leg over another nearby branch which he used to levee himself up into a sit. He looked down to Clurie, biting his lip with worry.
"Your hands, Clurie," he reminded his Plague as he leaned down to offer a helping wiggle of his fingers.
"I can just turn into ash, Clemmings, so you don't have a break a nail," Clurie said from below where he stood next to Adal and Georgie. His childish face was twisted into a scowl of hot embers and ash.
Chauhn waved his hands desperately, hissing at the Ash Plague. "No! Clurie, don't, you'll make a scene! We're already pushing it by being in this crowd, it's dangerous 'n' Ah don't want you or anyone else to get hurt! Don't do that. Just, change your hand 'n' take mine." His last words were dry and exasperated.
With an angry stiffening of his shoulders, he focused with a twinge and reached up for his Grimm's hand with a set of fingers that were no longer claw-like and burning black, but soft and fleshy. Chauhn let the ghost of a smile grace his lips for the few moments it took to clasp wrists, pull, and steady his Plague as he climbed up into the tree. The last moment, though, Chauhn drew his hand away with a jump and glared at Clurie, who waved back at him with his hands burning again with embers, and his face beaming with mischievousness.
Disregarding the new tinge of hurt on his wrists, Chauhn leaned down for Georgie, holding his hands open for the boy. "Alright, Georgie, you're next."
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Posted: Sat Sep 24, 2011 3:46 pm
Both of the Malts were left to marvel when Clurie and Chauhn had the slightest moment of collaboration between one another, cooperation that was unsung since Chauhn's incident only weeks ago. When Clurie decided to completely deride such a moment, though, Georgie and Adal alike could not help but glance away and wince for themselves. If there was one thing that came out relatively well from Chauhn and Clurie's frequent arguments, most started by the latter, was how together the Malts seemed to be when they were both incredibly embarrassed.
When Chauhn extended a hand out to Georgie, the brunette took a step backwards and shook his head, at least letting go of Adal's now-crinkled sleeve, laughing weakly. "It's quite alright, Chauhn, I think I can see alright from down here, but thank--"
"Get on the blasted tree and take Chauhn's hand, Georgie," Adal murmured, shoving Georgie a little bit closer to the tree,"I'll catch you if you happen to fall."
"Last time you said that you forgot'n I got to eat a mouthful of dirt and grass," Georgie mused, then swallowed the moisture in ihs neck. He looked up at Chauhn with a quaint smile and nodded nervously nevertheless, extending a hand out to Chauhn. Just was Georgie was ready to be pulled up onto the tree, he glanced back at Adal, who looked back with an obvious annoyed expression slathered all over his face.
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Posted: Sat Sep 24, 2011 7:43 pm
Climbing higher, Clurie looked down long enough to watch as Chauhn bent down further in the tree branches to adjust for Georgie's oncoming weight. He gave a smirk, rolled his eyes, and sunk himself into a comfortable hang, proceeding to restrain himself from turning the tree into a fiery beacon.
Chauhn, on the other hand, was giving his gentlest smile, a thing he did without not really thinking whenever he was helping others. The smile lapsed for the few moments that Georgie backed away from him, but it quickly found its way back onto his face when Adal pushed him forward again. "It's alrigh'," he said encouragingly, momentarily slipping back into his old poor boy's vernacular, "Ah've go' you. ah've got you, Georgie." He moved his hand further down Georgie's wrist, clasping his slightly singed fingers tight around the bone, before he strained and yanked up and back, hefting Georgie's body up into the tree as he swung him up by using the fall of his own weight on the other side of the branch. He walked him through the rest of the process, telling him where to plant his feet and where to grab, and soon enough the sickly boy was installed in a safe curve of the tree. When he was done making sure that Georgie wouldn't flip and fall through the branches, Chauhn turned to Adal and offered him his hand.
"Your turn, Adal," he said with a clap of his hands, readying himself for the next pull. "I won't drop you either."
Clurie laughed from up in the tree, sneering at Chauhn, "You make a right good servant, Clemmings. You'll never be more than someone else's footstool, will you?"
Chauhn's face turned bitter at the comment, but he made a visible effort to keep his smile from turning into a frown. He waited for Adal nonetheless, his outstretched hand waiting and ready.
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