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 Posted: Sun Aug 16, 2009 7:35 pm
 Pandora slipped across the ground like a snake, blindly feeling and scenting her way through the forest. She used the strange shriveled legs on her sides to feel around herself like a blind person would with their walking stick. She also picked up on vibrations from her surroundings through these extra appendages, such as the rustle of leaves, the flutter of a mouse's heart, the flap of a birds wings, and even the movement of water through a tree's veins. In a way Pandora was connected with every living creature around her as she used their vibrations to make her way through her black world. Her chupacabra, Menolly, trotted obediently beside her, while her raven, Starck, flew over head. The Jungle of Sleep was always riddled with strange beings and creatures, and Pandora was not in the mood to be caught unawares. She wasn't in a particularly bad mood, which was unusual, but she was never a very patient being, and did not suffer fools well. Pandora hoped deeply she wouldn't run into anyone who couldn't handle her snarky behavior and short temper... she actually wasn't in the mood for a fight...
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Posted: Sun Aug 16, 2009 7:56 pm
 Sly's morning had been spent in his favorite way: smoking hookah and contemplating mysteries. However, his head was beginning to clear finally from the contradictory haze of enlightenment his favorite mixture of hookah induced and he was feeling particularly mellow. That could change in a moment, of course, should someone disturb him or challenge him. No matter how much of the soporific he inhaled, he was always sharp as a knife when it came to matters of the mind, which was a fact he prided himself on. That, his perfect diction, and impeccable grammar. Manners he reserved for people he felt warranted them, but he could be very polite and courtly when it suited him. It very rarely did.
He was lounging comfortably in the shade when he heard what he thought might be someone approaching and he scrambled to his feet in what might have been deemed an undignified haste in anyone else. He, of course, was never less than dignified unless he was indignant, which wasn't quite the same thing. He was, however, set up in a more graceful position by the time the sound of someone drawing near indicated that he was within sight. He affected a much-practiced pose of casual indolence as he glanced at the intruder.
Someone with familiars. He'd never seen the use of such things, himself, since they could never hope to compare to his intelligence and he had no wish to saddle himself with a constant companion of lesser intellect than his own. But some people liked them and doted on them as if they were children. He didn't particularly care for children either, now that he thought about it. At least this painter, whose build appeared rather sinuous, like his own, didn't seem to have any of those detestable monsters in tow.
"Who are you?" he asked in a voice that would be well-suited to theatre and a tone that made it clear he couldn't care less what the answer was.
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Posted: Sun Aug 16, 2009 8:27 pm
Pandora began to slow her slithering as she felt the vibrations of something very large near by. She frowned and tilted her head, it felt like a P'an, but it was a very strange shape. Not that she had never seen strangely shaped P'ans, she was one of them, but this one was even weirder than usual. Pandora slithered closer, with a mixture of repulsion and curiosity, wondering what sort of mad mutations this new painter must have to show up so weird on her sonar. As she neared him, Pandora could distinctly smell the scent of a wonderfully sweet smoke, like from a hookah. It sent pleasant shivers down her back, what a lovely smell. For some one with a sense of smell heightened to extreme levels due to her blindness, good smells did not come around often... but this one, it was absolutely scrumptious!
Pandora finally heard the male she had sensed speak, and smiled, this one was obviously very dignified, and she decided it was time for a better look. She slithered up, and then sat back on her haunches before replying to the male, "Give me a second, I need to call my eyes..." She turned her head to the sky and called out firmly, "Stark you insolent buzzard! Get down here and do as you are told or I'll have to eat you and go through the whole trouble of finding a replacement!" The raven cawed and shot down through the trees at her mistress's call, and landed obediently on her shoulder.
Pandora connected her mind to his quickly and easily, she had had a lot of practice, and shuddered as she began to look through his eyes. It was a trick she had learned when she was younger, a way for her to finally see the world around her through some one else. Every tilt of her head and turn of her shoulders was copied by the bird so that it was as though she was actually seeing what she would if she had eyes. With a satisfied smile she smirked, "Ah much better..."
Pandora now had time to survey this new male, and she smiled broadly in surprise. He was strange! He had 8 legs and resembled something like an overgrown caterpillar. She chuckled at this imagery, but then coughed as she noticed his tone. He obviously didn't care who she was, but she didn't care about him either, so she replied in a similar bored tone, "Ah, where are my manners... I am Pandora, queen of Hal'ia's underworld... and... you arrrrre...?" She trailed off and gave him a level stare with her absent eyes, sometimes others said it was like she was looking at them even though she, obviously, couldn't.
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Posted: Sun Aug 16, 2009 9:32 pm
Sly started as he caught a good glimpse of the female who'd come with her familiars. She was a P'an, as much as he was anyway, but something was distinctly wrong with the extra limbs they seemed to share. His were functional and he couldn't imagine walking without them, and hers were shriveled and a large part of him hoped they were vestigial, because otherwise they reminded him too much of a spider's legs. Perhaps it was the resemblance he bore to a caterpillar that made him leery of arachnids, but he didn't like them, and he wasn't sure how he felt about people whose extra legs gave them a spider-like appearance. It was as much of a shock to him to see that her eyes didn't seem to work either. When she confirmed this, he couldn't help wondering how such a pathetic creature had managed to live to adulthood. He supposed she must be very cunning.
His suppositions were confirmed when she called rudely to her fluttering companion. He could detect in her tone that she did not truly think as little of the crow as she pretended. The insults she dealt out were more affectionate and familiar than antagonistic. He was fascinated by her use of her familiar's eyes, however. That did bespeak a great deal of cunning, and Sly was impressed despite himself, though he was not about to show it any more than he was about to show how disturbing he found her shriveled appendages. He was a civilized, cultured P'an and existed mainly on an intellectual plane which rendered physical form immaterial. Or so he liked to tell himself with a small grin. His own clever oxymorons pleased him disproportionately.
Because he was accustomed to amusing himself with his riddles and superior airs, it pleased Sly that Pandora had named herself first and left him an opening to make his own introductions, which he interpreted as an action which placed him in a position of power because he knew something she did not. A part of his mind was irked that she did not recognize him instantly, for he knew himself to be a distinctive being for both his staggering mental abilities and his unconventional form, but the larger part of his mind that delighted in secrets was thrilled to have a piece of information that she did not, and to be proven from the beginning the wiser, better-informed of the two of them.
"I am Sly." Some people who thought themselves clever would ask if that was his name or his personality. He was never impressed with their efforts at wit. The question had occurred to him long before anyone else had ever posed it, and so he found all subsequent repetitions to be mere evidence of another's unoriginality.
He found himself hoping that Pandora would not prove to be so unoriginal, since her use of the crow Stark was so different. In an effort to save her from perhaps making that blundering jest, he spoke again, bestowing upon the self-proclaimed queen of Hal'ia's underworld a rare compliment:
"That," he said carefully, "is possibly the most sensible use for a familiar I have ever seen."
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Posted: Sun Aug 16, 2009 11:57 pm
Pandora tilted her head as she noted the slight disgust with which this new male P'an observed her with. She had never cared for other's opinions of her. In fact, it gave her some sort of sick pleasure at the thought that she could make others uncomfortable just with her presence. On top of that, she would enjoy bothering them even more with her snarky remarks and provocative attitude. But... all in good time. For now, Pandora looked through Stark in a sort of calculating way, trying to figure out this guy's angle, how he thought, how he behaved, what he tried to hide, and what he let show. She usually did not waste her time trying to decipher other painters, but the moment she had laid eyes on Sly, she new he was going to be different. He was cocky, but he had a reason to be, and she wanted to find out what that reason was.
As he introduced himself, Pandora opened her mouth to make one of her infamous insulting replies; something along the lines of 'Sly...? You don't look particularly cunning to me...' but she was cut off as he gave her a strange sort of calculated questioning compliment. She frowned slightly but then coughed and replied, "Yes well... I tend to be a sensible kind of gal. Stark, my raven, will often step in as my eyes if I wish to see something clearer or when I want to fly. The shy little chupacabra over there, Menolly, is rather skillful at mining for the smaller stones I can't reach in my underground palace... Not that any of that would interest some one like you of course..." She smirked and turned her head up to the sky as though bored with the conversation and deciding instead to observe the clouds. Pandora was in fact rather curious how far she could push this guy before he snapped and got angry at her and had to resort to some sort of puffed-up self defense. She enjoyed ruffling other's feathers so very much... it was almost like a hobby!
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Posted: Mon Aug 17, 2009 7:02 am
The last of the soporific effects of his hookah were wearing off and Sly was able to focus his sense much more keenly on Pandora and her familiars. He'd not paid much mind to the chupacabra simply because it had done nothing to attract his attention. When Pandora mentioned the creature, Menolly, and its purpose he glanced speculatively at the hunched familiar. Its coloration reminded him of the underside of a mushroom, or the grubs that dug at its base. He could remember experimenting with eating the squirming things - grubs, not chupacabras - and finding them not to his liking, but not inedible. He'd never eaten a chupacabra, but this would not be a good time to indulge his curiosity on that count.
"All knowledge is worth having," Sly quoted.
He wasn't actually sure who had originally said it, but he could remember hearing it at a very young age. It had been one of the lessons that stayed with him, though he had eventually come to the realization that it was untrue. Some things truly were not worth knowing. Most things about most people, for instance, fell below his notice. He didn't interact with enough people to make it worth his while to remember them or the minutiae of their unimportant, unimpressive, uninteresting lives. Which was why he didn't quite practice what he preached, instead forgetting selectively what he didn't feel was useful to save space in his already capacious mind for greater thoughts and knowledge. Somehow he got the feeling that someone like Pandora might be worth remembering. At least for a time. Her familiars he was unsure of, still.
"That being the case, I wouldn't find it too onerous to hear about your underground palace." He rolled his shoulders - all of them in a row - in a lazy gesture to indicate that he couldn't care less whether she chose to explain herself further or not. He, too, was capable of feigning disinterest and indifference, as he had spent much of his life doing so. He hoped she didn't think him fooled by her act of being bored by their conversation. It had not yet grown dull, though the opportunity always remained for any conversation to grow monotonous. Sly had always considered himself fortunate in that he didn't need to devote the whole of his attention to any one thing, and could instead contemplate other matters when the matter at hand ceased to interest him but also ceased to go away.
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Posted: Mon Aug 17, 2009 11:50 am
Pandora watched Sly with level disinterest as he looked Menolly over. There was a curious gleam in his eyes for just a moment, though she hardly believed he was truly interested in her or her familiars. If she were in his place, she'd be thoroughly disinterested as well. That was the thing with Pandora, she didn't care wether she was interested to others or not; some might find her appearance something to ponder about for a few moments, but really, only the most annoying creatures took any actual interest in her personal life and preferences. She wasn't one to divulge her history and every nuance of her worthless childhood memories upon other other, it bored her just thinking about it!
Then he spoke, well actually, he quoted, and Pandora scoffed mentally. She could tell by his demeanor and actions that he didn't mean what he said... at all. He obviously did not think anything Pandora could say was worth listening to to, let alone remembering. But she smirked visibly as he rolled his shoulders and told her he wished to hear of her palace. She stretched like a cat, as though out of boredom, and pressed her extra legs against her body just for a moment so she looked... almost normal. She then curled up on the ground, with her head resting in the palm of one of her hand, "gazing" up at Sly and her other holding her chest and neck off the ground.
Pandora paused for a while, as if wondering wether or not Sly was worth the story. He seemed to want to know, and yet he looked as if he couldn't care less. It was a worthy skill he possessed, to be so patient when something like this had the possibility of being so extremely boring. In a strange way, Pandora thought highly of this new male and his ability to listen to someone's droll stories and think about other things at the same time. She coughed slightly, as though she finally decided to tell him about her less than humble domain, and began, "I live deep underground, in the labyrinth of passageways and caverns that crisscross within the heart of Hal'ia. My palace is a particularly large and grand cavern, built around an underground lake. The walls shine with diamonds and opals, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds... you name it. And this is what my livelihood consists of, mining, trading, and selling everything to do with these jewels and more... was that knowledge worth having? I highly doubt it... why would some one of... well..." Pandora tilted her head as though looking at Sly critically, "Well... some one of your standard be interested in something so expensive and out of reach as my limited collection of precious stones...? I doubt that you would be at all curious about them, seeing as you don't wear them and... many of them would probably clash with your rather... flamboyant colors..." Pandora trailed off, smirking, and wondering if Sly would take the bait and be offended, or if he could just brush her off...
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Posted: Tue Aug 18, 2009 9:31 am
Sly was surprised to find himself enjoying this game. It wasn't as fun as posing perplexing riddles, but there was definitely something satisfying about meeting someone who was as capable of affecting disinterest and - dare he say it? - ennui as he. So few people he knew were truly equipped to deal with him. Some were intelligent, almost reaching his level, but most were not. Many possessed a hauteur they had no cause for claiming. And none were subtle. Subtlety didn't seem to be a trait most painters were interested in. He was still trying to decide whether Pandora's demeanor was simply a variation on the less-than-interesting aloofness some had, possibly caused by what had to have been a difficult childhood among people who couldn't hope or try to relate to her, or whether she was truly the rarer breed of person whose thoughts were subtle and capable of running on many levels at once.
Pandora's cough served to draw the whole of his attention to the moment, for the time being. For a split second he wondered if it was the cloying aroma of his hookah that had caused her to cough, since very few painters had a tolerance for breathing the stuff, but he decided that was not it. Though someone who would have had to develop her sense of smell to compensate for her absent vision would probably find his hookah an unwelcome scent, hiding other, more vital scents. He decided that was not his problem. He mimicked her position, wondering what she would make of that, and whether she would know it for teasing.
"It seems you have established quite the enterprise," he remarked.
He could imagine many things more foolish than purchasing jewels, but he thought that it had to be one of the less intelligent activities engaged in by his fellow painters. Undoubtedly there were those who sought to augment their appearance with jewelry and fanciful garb. Sly, himself, was guilty of that. But he succeeded where others failed, he felt, in that his finery was mere augmentation, and not overwhelming costuming that only gave the painter in question the appearance of a fool dressed in motley. Sly took great pains with his looks, which was why Pandora's remark, though it was painfully obvious she meant it to be offensive, was successful in its aim.
Six possible retorts ran through his mind at once, the most prominent of which questioned the validity of a blind person's fashion sense, but that was far too easy and she had probably heard everything there was to say to and about blindness. So while he fixed her crow with a level stare that was definitely Not Amused, taking into account that looking at her would present her with an imperfect view of his expression and its full effect, he contemplated other replies he could make. Finally he opted for one that might surprise her. Or it might give her the impression he was too stupid to realize he was being criticized, which was hardly the case. He was, after all, very sensitive to criticism and always aware of when it was implied.
"I'm not terribly interested in that sort of adornment," he agreed. "Though you are correct in noting that I do have a preference for bright colors. I see no reason to relegate myself to drabness simply because convention demands it. I am not, after all, a conventional being."
He realized with an unpleasant start that he was making exceptions and allowances for Pandora, which was out of character for him. And he did not attempt to delude himself into believing it was her impairment that made him sympathetic to her, for he was not a sympathetic person. Sly was giving Pandora undeserved chances to redeem herself because he wanted her to be in his mental class. He told himself he was getting his hopes up for naught, and chastised himself for doing so. He was not lonely. Not when he had his own towering intellect to occupy himself. There was no reason for him to hope or expect anyone else to live up to his exacting standards, and less reason for him to want it to be someone with such obvious physical defects. He didn't believe that adversity built character, though he was willing to believe that it could build other things, such as thick skins, viciousness, and heaps of psychological damage. This hardly made Pandora seem like the sort of person he should want to associate with. And she kept familiars. He didn't like familiars. Even useful ones.
He took a breath of hookah to calm himself. He had been mellow before her arrival. He would like to go back to that place.
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Posted: Tue Aug 18, 2009 7:52 pm
Pandora watched him carefully through Stark for his reaction to everything she had done. It was almost like a game to her really, like chess almost; you make a move and watch the other opponent ponder moving different pieces and you have to guess what they plan for their next move so you can stop whatever plan they have early. You watch where their eyes wander, how their fingers quiver over certain pieces and the move away, it was almost a precise sort of science really. Pandora usually never thought this deeply about others, usually they got flustered on the first attempt and she could have a good quarrel with them before they turn and stalk off in a huff. It never fazed her, it was more like entertainment really.
As she listened to her comment about her work with gems, Pandora could tell he was not impressed and that, if anything, thought it rather worthless. But she could see his eyes glint when she insulted him, she had a struck a chord. And then, when he opened his mouth again, Pandora smiled broadly, ready for the usual rebuke, when... nothing happened. There was no outburst or huffy disgrace, but she was sure he had been insulted. And then, it came to her, and she was rather impressed yet again. He must be in such good control of his thoughts and emotions, that he did no let himself stoop so low as to come to the expected verbal blows. No, what he said must have had a deeper meaning, and Pandora frowned as she deciphered it.
Was is possible that as he said he preferred bright colors, something he had and Pandora did not, and that he was not conventional because of it... Was he implying that Pandora was therefore simply colorless and drab? This of course, did not phase her at all, if anything, she agreed. But she found that her colorful language and molted personality usually made up for her rather dreary appearance.
So she replied with a smile, "Ah, yes, for me... Colors have no meaning, since most of my life was spent in blackness. No, it is texture, and scent, and resonance that truly touch me to my very core... It isn't the sheen or the color of jewels that appeal to me, but really... Sir Sly, have you played a crystal flute? Yes, the instrument may be pretty to those who see it... but it is the sound it makes that makes such an object so, how to put it... valuable to me... I believe you must be able to understand that..." Pandora had thought about putting the word "even" before the word "you" in her last statement, but she decided against it. She knew she could obviously insult him if she wanted to, so now that she knew, where was the point of doing so during a conversation what was already so very twisted as it was...
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Posted: Wed Aug 19, 2009 9:32 am
He was recovering his mental and emotional distance rapidly with Pandora's somewhat cryptic speech. Cryptic was what he was good at, and he was able to take comfort in the familiar and regain his composure. Somehow Sly doubted this had been Pandora's intent when was the first to use her blindness to explain away her lack of appreciation for color. That had probably been meant as a subtle rebuke, but she had been the one to mention the flamboyancy of his attire. He had been the very soul of courtesy in refraining from pointing out any of the obvious and not-so-obvious ways in which she was aesthetically deficient. Not that he would in any way admit that there was anything wrong with his choices when it came to his vestiment, but Pandora had more than implied that there was.
"I admit," Sly said, "I have not had the pleasure of playing a crystal flute."
He could hear her almost say "even" and now that he had decided he was not going to make any further allowances for her he found the implication insulting. An imbecile would know that to someone lacking sight texture and sound and scent were more powerfully moving than the most vivid sunset. The use of the word "even," though she had not actually used it, implied that he was in a lower mental class than the aforementioned imbeciles. He did not appreciate the thought. At least when he was not making ridiculous excuses for her and trying to spare her his derision and contempt, Sly could see that Pandora was no different than anyone else, aside from her physical deformities.
He smiled pleasantly at the crow and took another breath of hookah. He took a third breath of hookah and exhaled slowly after holding the drug in his lungs for a time. His smile altered just a little and became slightly wicked, though more mischievious than malicious for the time being.
"Perhaps you can tell me," he began, "what is the sound of one hand clapping? You do seem like you are uniquely gifted to answer."
It wasn't a true riddle, but rather a meditation device, he knew, and he had come up with several clever responses to the self-important fools who had tried to trick him in riddling contests by posing a question without an answer. The look of dismay on the face of such a person was always so rewarding. It left him feeling deservedly smug for days. Still, the opportunity to learn if there was an answer to this meditation was too much to pass up. Even if it meant that he was put in the position of asking for information, rather than leading others to divulge it. There was a difference, and he could perceive it, even though it went above the heads of many.
It also drew the conversation away from the topic of crystal flutes, which was a relief to him, since he couldn't quite figure out what she'd meant by bringing it up. Probably he was giving her too much credit again and imagining depths to her that simply weren't there.
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Posted: Wed Aug 19, 2009 11:35 am
Pandora frowned and twitched her tail in haughty surprise, thinking to herself, He missed it... he actually missed it. The entirely self-absorbed fool caught my insult, but completely missed the fact that I had given him one of my sincerest of compliments only moments before. I had tried to tell him that I was enjoying how he was more than just a pretty thing to look at, that I was actually for once enjoying a conversation with someone... and the idiot just catches on the insult, which just came to my lips as a second nature, it hadn't even been meant for him! What a fool... well, this is what I get for trying to be nice....
Pandora paused before replying to his comment on the crystal flute, she was going to try one more time, and if he didn't catch on this time she was just going to label him a lost cause, "Yes, it makes the most wondrous sound, something very unusual to come by in this world. Though I never really believed the saying "there is a more to a book than it's cover", which is a ridiculous thing to say because how some one presents themselves can say more about their personality than anything else really... sometimes it is possible to find a diamond I missed within a pile of rubble, or a single opal strain that flows through rock that seems so desolate that nothing could be hidden beneath... It is why my work is the only thing I truly enjoy doing in life..."
She tapped her claws on the ground and snaked her tail around herself as Sly smoked his hookah. If he hadn't gotten what she meant after that whole entire speech, then he truly wasn't as cunning as she had thought he was. Then, out of no where, he asked her one of the most random questions she had ever heard in her life. Pandora cocked her head to the side with a frown, wondering why in the world such a ridiculous thing had crossed his mind. He really must be a scatter brain to have his mind think about something so completely random amidst a conversation about something completely different.
She sighed and shook her head, thinking about a decent answer, "I don't know how you could possibly believe that that was such a difficult question. The definition of clapping is, 'to make an abrupt, sharp sound, as of flat surfaces striking against one another' so the sound of one hand clapping would be this..." Pandora held up her right hand and slapped her fingers against her palm which made a faint, but obvious, slapping sound. She smirked and put her hand down with a shrug, "Perhaps you would care to try again...? I'm sure you would enjoy watching me squirm as I contemplate the next ridiculousness that runs through your head at random..."
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Posted: Thu Aug 20, 2009 11:36 am
Well. This day certainly wasn't going as he had intended. Sly had not meant for the day to amount to much more than smoking hookah under the dense shade of the jungle foliage while contemplating quandaries and puzzling out perplexities and mulling over mysteries and reviewing riddles. He knew enough of them that he sometimes forgot he knew some of them, at least until he heard them again. And then he recognized them and recalled their solution. It was how he spent most of his days when he didn't need to hunt, and he was rather fond of it as a past time.
Well, that clearly wasn't going to happen. He knew he'd be thinking about this meeting with Pandora for several days, evaluating the subtleties of their exchange, looking for nuances he'd missed, ways in which he had not lived up to his own standards of excellence and things he might improve upon for next time. For all that he considered himself of the highest order, Sly was probably his harshest critic. He had every hope of achieving perfection before he died, and ideally having it recognized by others, too. He did like to be praised, but just as he was his harshest critic, Sly was also his biggest fan. It was nice to be so self-reliant most of the time.
"That is truly observant of you," Sly conceded.
He had long been of the opinion that a way a person chose to portray themself was telling. If they hid something it told you what a person was ashamed of. If they flaunted something else it showed they were proud of it. You could learn what a person valued so easily. Sly did not consider himself by any means an expert on reading people, though he was observant. Mostly people didn't interest him enough for him to bother trying to gain any insight into their personalities. Only when he was playing the riddling game did he focus so totally on someone else, and that was more so that he would know how to flummox them than anything else. It crossed his mind that if he put more effort into understanding others he might have new puzzles to work out. It was said people were complex, though it was doubtful anyone was as complex as he was.
"There seem to be hidden depths to your work," he allowed. "And a great many unexpected connections, not unlike my own passion for riddles."
Sly was not unaware of the pun, but he found puns a despicable form of humor and did not make them proudly. He only occasionally slid them into conversation as bait for others. He was capable of creating jokes with much deeper meanings using double or triple entendre, and preferred that form of humor, but knowing whether Pandora would be thoroughly amused by something simple was worth it. He had to know if she was as subtle as he had been trying to convince himself she was earlier. He realized, of course, that he had missed something in her earlier statement because he had been too quick to take offense, and that was something he would have to work on. His quick temper always had been, but he felt a bit off-balanced by her strange appearance and presenting himself to a crow while watching a painter for her reactions. It was not the way he usually conducted his affairs.
"I posed the question as a curiosity, and not in an effort to make you squirm. That would be bad manners. It had more to do with the fact that I assume your hearing is more finely tuned than my own, and your appreciation for vibration is keener. You were the one who brought up the value of beautiful sounds and sensations, after all."
Sly felt privately affronted by her assumption that he had wanted to make her squirm, and for a combination of reasons. The most obvious was that it would be bad manners for him to do that to someone without provocation. The second, and more wounding, was that she seemed to think that he would be ineffective at making her squirm. He was good at making people squirm, and if he had wanted her to squirm, she would have. The fact that she had thought his question random was also a mark against her. He was very rarely truly random. There was always a connection with him, though sometimes it was many levels below the surface of current goings-on. That one hadn't even been particularly deep.
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Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2009 4:23 pm
Pandora tapped her claws on the ground patiently as Sly, who seemed to be mulling over something, tossed her a compliment of sorts. She, of course, was not the sort of painter who enjoyed being thrown praise as though it were a bone she had been begging for. Though Pandora was very easily flattered, she would almost never show it, and never in a million years would she thank the flatterer. It was from the blossoming and high-strung self confidence that she possessed that allowed her to believe that there was no need to thank anyone for their compliments, since most of them are just facts being stated. Pandora knew she was observant, so Sly saying it, was nothing special;
it was just another uttered fact.
Sly's next uttered words were amusing, but not particularly interesting for Pandora. He not only stated the obvious, but created it into a pun that Pandora did not particularly appreciate. She raised a questioning eyebrow, as though curious as to why he thought her to be such an idiot that he had to resort to simply stating the obvious. Such conversations got annoying after a while, and rather boring. It was like having some one tell you the sky is blue, and then open their mouth as though they are about to say something important in correlation to their last comment, but instead they state that the grass is green.
She then frowned deeper as she realized that she had over stepped her analysis of Sly and had made a false statement. Pandora had assumed that Sly enjoyed making his "victims" squirm, but she had failed to understand that at this point in time, she was not being considered a "victim". However, the blind P'an was not foolish enough to believe that Sly thought of her as an equal, but for now he was just curious. Pandora had taken his passive curious nature as a condescending one, and in turn possibly insulted him. Of corse, being who she is, Pandora was in no means about to apologize for jumping to conclusions. Instead she lifted her head in a haughtily, yet slightly curious fashion, and replied, "Ah yes, manners and social etiquette. I do not often abide to said regulations, it is actually rather rare for me to do so. I forget that sometimes there are others with a higher sense of honor than me who wish to actually follow the boundaries that society creates for those conscientious of it. Very well then, I guess I'm interested now, though I hate to say it. What other sorts of questions do you need an answer for... since I really don't have any to ask of you..."
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