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 Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 6:52 pm
It was… disturbing. Lysander had only recently arrived back from his travels, but what he had found worried him. Or, more specifically, what he hadn’t found. Of course, he was vaguely aware that unitaurs were rare and had always been such since the Great War, but it was one thing to just hear it. It was quite another thing to actually see it, or not see it as the case may be.
Unitaurs were just a myth to ‘taurs now, something out of stories and legends. Lysander snorted and kicked a stone lightly so it disappeared into the tall grass of his meadow. Keely had always preferred the dark shadows and hidden nooks of the forest, but Lysander found the open meadow far more… honest. It didn’t hide. It didn’t appear to be anything other than what it was, especially under a clear blue sky. It was truth, plain and simple.
Some individuals had even forgotten the unitaurs entirely, leading them to think that Lysander was simply a cervitaur with a funny-looking antler and an embarrassing personal condition. An embarrassing personal condition! Him! He kicked another stone, this one with slightly more force. Ha! He knew darn well that he was a fine figure of a male; he probably spent more time preening than Keely ever did!
Well, one day, the unitaur would return. Starting with him. The sky-colored male walked confidently among his home, not bothering to hide who or what he was. This was truth and there was no shame in it. Why bother hiding, he wondered. This was their world, same as everyone else’s. Happy to be home at last, Lysander started by taking a quick jog around his meadow, just to make sure everything was just the way he had left it. You know, besides the pebbles he had kicked around.
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 8:16 pm
 Gods, she'd gone and done it again.
Teresa never quite understood Yael, often as they spent time together when their paths chanced to cross. She would meet up with her friend and her crew at some noisy pub or another, settle down for an impromptu game of catch-up, and the satyr would proceed to watch -- with the caution of a mother and the eye of curious child -- just how many glasses of ale the minotaur could stomach.
Not many, for sure!
And though she worried, because 'Isn't it too early for drinking?' 'Nah, I just had a match. It calms my nerves.', Teresa had decided to make a game out of her friend's inability to hold down a drink. Come one, come all-- place your bets here! Just how many drinks can a minotaur take 'til she's tanked off her tea cozy?
It grew into a lucrative sport.
But Autumn and his festivities were slowly traversing the land, and while Teresa loved unfamiliar faces, the storytellers and actors were moving in for the season-- and she knew how those! people were. She was one of them, after all! Enter Ferrao, instigator extraordinaire!
It was scary how easily Yael was to rile up when she was plastered, like lighting a match and tossing it in a forest of dry wood. Teresa thought it was funny how the dark cervitaur had leapt into their typical debate on magic, eyes bright with challenge, tail flagged into the air in excitement.
'Magic's real!' the stag blurted.
'Course it is,' Yael had grunted around the rim of her glass. 'Never said it wasn't.'
'But you don't believe in unitaurs?' Since his arrival, the cervi had yet to stop grinning.
'I do, but they're dead.'
'All of them, then? Every last one?'
Teresa noted Yael's tightening jaw, the way her bloodshot eyes peered at Ferrao from the corners of her eyes. Finally:
'Of course they are. Have you ever seen one?'
Ferrao had laughed, slapped his palms against their table. Teresa was cowed by the light in his eyes, like he knew something they didn't but he wasn't about to tell them. His grin, so broad before, became a shadow of a smile-- a secret, right there, in the right-hand corner of his mouth.
'How can you say something doesn't exist if you've never seen it before?'
It was then Teresa gathered up her collection of bet coins (tucking them securely in her brassiere!) and bid them good day, because she knew-- by the way Yael was gripping the edges of the table-- that a fight was about to break out. The fights tended to increase when bands of entertainers came through. Goodness!
And now-- now what? Teresa was telling herself that the argument, silly as it was, did not bother her. It didn't warrant her stress or even a blip of a thought! But, wandering the woods with only her inner monologue as company, the young satyr couldn't keep her mind from tumbling from its usual accepted apathy. Ferrao had struck something deep, instinctual. He had lit some long dormant, intrinsic faith that was so Satyr of her. But Yael's voice was back: that the great days were over, that such things - the stories, the songs, the dances of her childhood venerating such peoples as the unitaurs - were a waste. She had such hope for them when she was a child, but as Yael would point out, she had been young. Stupid.
'Hopeful. Hopeless. Think about the here and now and stop angsting over the past.'
Teresa rubbed the base of her horns, crossing through a copse of thinning trees and into an unfamiliar meadow. Maybe it was better not to think about it.
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 9:03 pm
It was clumsy, that’s what it was. Honestly, the decision to not hide didn’t mean that Lysander should have been so clumsy about things. In this case, he should have actually been looking where he was walking instead of directly down at his hooves. Since the active young ‘taur could hardly be entertained with simply making a circuit around the place, he made a game out of it, namely by trying to kick the same pebble around as many times as possible. Stupid? Probably. Entertaining? For him, it was.
Tic! Tic! Tic! his hooves striking the pebble made a sharp, but soft noise, which amused him more than a little. It wasn’t that he was stupid; he was just easily amused by the small pleasures in life. His eyes followed every movement of the pebble, or at least they did until the little rock ended up nearby someone else’s hooves. Lysander tilted his head to one side and his gold eyes traveled up from the cream hooves, to the legs, to the satyr herself.
…Ah.
For a moment, that was all he was thinking. It made as much sense as anything else, like ‘satyr!’ or ‘Hi there!’. A moment of silence came over everything, a true rarity in a space that Lysander occupied. But, he recovered eventually, breaking into a wide grin, “Say, this is awfully awkward, isn’t it? Sorry about that. I wasn’t looking where I was doing or where the rock was going. You know, I don’t see many satyrs around, especially not alone. You people normally travel in groups. Not that there’s anything wrong with going solo, I always say.”
Yep. Perfectly cheerful and very, very much alive.
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 9:46 pm
Teresa was too busy arguing with herself (inside the safety of her own head!) to notice the pebble that had rolled up to her hooves. No, she was tucked away in her mind, having quite the internal struggle of beliefs over reality-- the former looked something like her grandfather, the latter like a grumpy Yael. No one was winning, that was for sure, except for a knot of a headache forming right between her eyes. She rapped her knuckles against her forehead.
Stop it, stop it, stop it!
It was the voice that drew her from her reverie-- well, more like snapped her from it. Teresa's ears stood at attention, tail flagging, her gaze meeting Lysander's all in one go.
What.
Her mouth opened.
What?
Her pale eyes settled on his horn, dropped again to his face, did a double take. Her stomach felt as though it had fallen out of the very cleft in her hooves.
This entire time, her mind had ceased all proper functions.
It took Teresa a moment to recalibrate, all the while her mouth opened and shut like a captured fish, index finger lifting in order to give the illusion that she was about to reach some sort of conclusion, reach some revelation on the matter of Lysander's existence (which was all a theatric sham considering she had, for a moment, flat lined).
Gods, she hadn't even had a sip! of ale!
"Yeah, well," came the intelligent beginning to an equally intelligent response. "You don't see many unitaurs around because you're supposed to be dead!"
She cut her eyes away momentarily (guiltily?) and then returned them. Yeah.
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 10:00 pm
“Oh dear…” was all Lysander managed to say when the satyr seemed utterly unable to say anything at all. She just gaped, really. He sighed and briefly ran a hand through his white hair, wondering if maybe she had been drinking. There was a bit of a reek to her clothes of stale sawdust, ale, and the other scents commonly associated with bars. Lysander did not have fond memories of bars; he’d only gone into one once, but it had ended in disaster as everyone had assumed he was a mere hallucination from drinking, which rather took the edge out of everything. Honestly, trying to get a drink from someone who is convinced they are hallucinating you is just impossible!
Ah! Now she was speaking! Lysander perked up slightly, because intelligent conversation was always to be looked forward to, or even any conversation at all. His ears drooped quickly, though, as the satyr informed him that he was supposed to be dead.
“Well, I’d say that’s rather hurtful,” he huffed, brushing himself off. “And you don’t even know me, but you’re saying I ought to be dead? I’m jolly well glad I didn’t know that beforehand, otherwise I may have very well followed it! Tell me, do I look dead? Do I look all corpsified and gross? I mean, I haven’t had a morning bath yet, so maybe there’s a certain element of ew, but certainly not to the level of being dead!”
He huffed again, making a great show of being offended but, in fact, he was a little pleased at the reaction. There was a small part of him----alright, a very large part---that delighted in being recognized as a unitaur. Oh, and the looks of surprise were always oh-so-delicious!
“So… tell me, satyr…” he said, leaning just a little closer to her. “Do you still think we’re all dead? Of course, I suppose this could just be a very elaborate prank on you, but I’m damned certain I’m real. I hope I’m real. If I’m not, I may very well suffer a dramatic moment of self-doubt, and those are very messy.”
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 10:30 pm
Teresa didn't shy when he neared. In fact, as Lysander leaned in, she reached up-- and wrapped her fingers around his horn.
"Did Ferrao put you up to this? You know, I bet you he did. I wouldn't put it past him. Honorable cervitaurs my tush!" she grumbled, touching Lysander's face, his ears, his hair as though she were blind, mapping his presence with her fingers. Her hands returned to the twisted horn jutting from his crown, tugged at it without reservation.
But she didn't know Ferrao like that, only knew thirty minutes worth of his voice and one facet of his beliefs. Her eyes, wide with disbelief, creased minutely with suspicion, dropped again to the unitaur's own. She did a lot of staring then, mouth forming a little moue as her tired brain worked overtime in order to provide some method to this madness.
And yet, and yet!
A part of her, a small part, like a dust mote in the air, stared up at Lysander with tentative hopefulness. That there, beneath her wariness, was a granulate of anticipation. At her core, Teresa wanted to believe him. It was right there in her peridot eyes, but practicality--
What did practicality say?
You're dead!
"Well, that... thing feels real," she admitted with some reluctance, hands falling away. A wall leapt up behind her eyes and she suddenly stepped back, rounding around this... this horned centaur for inspection! She set her hands on her hips, adopting her most unconvinced expression yet, hum-humming as she canvassed everything from his cloudy flank, to his curious tail, down to his cloven hooves.
"If you're a unitaur, then do something... --" she paused and flapped her hands out in a sort of go on, go on sort of fashion " -- unitaur... -y."
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 10:45 pm
“What th… HEY! I don’t know what kind of guy you think I am, but I am not about to let some girl fondle my hornish regions!” Lysander protested, trying to pull back sharply. But, honestly? The satyr had a strong grip for her size and, besides, pulling back only made things hurt. Not that this meant he shut up. The unitaur simply began to grumble in a low voice, only occasionally speaking up to say things like, “Hey, go easy on that, will you? It’s my horn. How would you feel if I started to tug you around by your horns?”
She certainly was a touchy-feely little satyr, wasn’t she? Lysander put up with it good-naturedly, if only because it seemed to be the only way she’d let go of his horn. And, like he’d said, he was rather attached to it. He’d had it all his life. When she finally let go, he drew himself up proudly, mostly just to get the long horn out of her reach. “So glad to know it pasts muster,” he muttered. “Which, of course, it should, on account of it being real and all. Hey, now where are you going? No! Bad satyr! You don’t get to inspect my tailed regions too!”
As the satyr attempted to walk around him, Lysander tried to keep her in front of him. Come on, he couldn’t just let a strange girl inspect all of his regions! He just wasn’t that sort of… well, actually, he was that sort of guy, typically. But for four-leggers, not satyrs! It just didn’t work!
“And who is this Farrao anyway? I’ve never heard the name before, I can tell you that! Although, it does sound like a wonderful trick to play on someone. I really ought to surprise more ‘taurs like this, only after I wear a sign saying, ‘do not tug the horn, please’, which I think would only invite people to do such…” Wait, what? Was she still making demands? “Something unitaury? Well, I’m alive. I’d say that’s pretty damn unitaury, seeing as I am one and I’m alive,” he said sourly, his ears going back only a little.
“You don’t see me demanding you prove your satyrishness, now do you? Is a little common courtesy just too much to ask these days?” Well, alright… So Lysander had some magic, healing and whatnot. The usual bits in a unitaur’s repertoire. He was just feeling pissy and didn’t feel like cooperating. “Besides, it doesn’t seem like you have any wounds to heal anyway.”
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Posted: Wed Oct 14, 2009 10:19 am
"Oh, don't be so silly about it! S'not like you haven't got anything back there that I've never seen before!" she said, giving a well-intentioned - if not mischievous - laugh. A giddiness was stealing its way through Teresa's body despite her initial skepticism, a heavy tautness laying siege to the pit of her stomach. She drummed both sets of fingers excitedly against her mouth, 'hmm!'ing again. When she drew them down, her lips were pressed into a froggish line, eyes squinting with disfavor.
"It wouldn't be a wonderful trick at all-- it'd be cruel and unusual and just trustmeonthis! I know tricks!" Teresa grumped, folding her arms securely beneath her chest. She eyed Lysander up and down again, mouth drawn to one side before continuing, "He said he belonged to the court of the Autumn King-- Ferrao, that is-- but the Autumn King is just a folktale. I mean, we all know the stories, but as to his existence...." She spread her hands, shoulders jumping up in a shrug of dismissal.
But she would be lying to herself if she wasn't so sure he, Lysander, looked like he had stepped out of the sky, so like the descriptions of unitaurs from the stories. A tapestry, he belonged on a tapestry, a call back to so many yesterdays ago when their people roamed the land like walking pieces of art. Harbingers of peace and beauty and song and--
"I don't have to prove anything since they're quite a few of us still around, thanks!" she pointed out, poking the air for emphasis. "You, on the other hand, well, gods and heavens alike, you were... you are the stuff of legend! You're the last thing children hear of when they're tucked in at night, the first thing to step into their dreams when they fall asleep."
She paused, trailed off, brows knitting together. This just couldn't be happening. It shouldn't be happening. Lysander was supposed to be just as impalpable as the fog. Logic said-- ! Yael and logic had declared...! Teresa folded her hands beneath her jaw, caught between acceptance and denial.
"Are-- are there more of you out there?" she asked hesitantly. Teresa cleared her throat, lifted her chin, "I mean more unitaurs out there, gods help us if there was more than one of you! I grew up thinking unis were supposed to be gracious and kind and all that sort of transcendent rubbish!"
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Posted: Wed Oct 14, 2009 12:32 pm
“Cruel and unusual? Oh, I don’t think so. You said it yourself, didn’t you? That unitaurs are the stuff of dreams and legends? I’d say there’s nothing bad about giving people something to hope for,” Lysander countered. Not that he had to be a trick at all; he knew better than anyone else that he was flesh and blood. “Not all lies are bad. F’instance, if some lady happens to ask, ‘hey, does this tunic make me look fat’, it’s not bad to lie and say, ‘no, not at all, you look just as lovely as ever’, as opposed to the very honest, ‘well, maybe horizontal stripes were a bad idea’…”
Speaking of beauty, the vain unitaur reached up so he could properly fluff up the hair around his horn again. The struggles had made it all messy, and he couldn’t stand that! Honestly, it took time to look this good and gods help it if other people just didn’t understand that. Besides, if Lysander had to be something out of a legend, he wanted it to be one that the ladies could happily dream about later in the night. “Really? From the Autumn King’s Court? Huh. Fancy that. I love it when others claim such a thing, because I always wonder why they aren’t still there.”
He snorted when Teresa finally began to accept the truth, albeit a little bit of one. That more than one Lysander would just be impossible and probably explode the world (although the unitaur insisted this would be from the sheer sex appeal and awesome; other theorists debated the end of the world would result from a black hole of vanity).
“Oh, yes, that’s very nice of you… I am gracious and kind, thank you very much! I tolerated you tugging on my horn and everything, didn’t I? Yes, of course there are other unitaurs. One of anything isn’t much use. Although…” he paused for a moment, looking almost worried. “I haven’t seen her for a while… I’ve been traveling, you see.”
One white hoof scraped up some dirt as he anxiously considered this idea. For all he knew, Keely wasn’t here any more. But dead? Of course not! That was just impossible! “Anyway… we should get this off on the right hoof, yeah? My name is Lysander.”
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Posted: Fri Oct 16, 2009 3:28 pm
"You'll be hard pressed to find anyone willing to believe your lot still exists, even with flesh and blood proof," she said with some solemnity. Oh, her grandfather would be so pleased-- imagine, his favorite grandchild, speaking with a unitaur! Lysander however, was clearly a vain creature and needed no further bolstering of his already high esteem (just look at him preen!) from Teresa, so she kept her bubbling excitement to herself. Shifting her arms akimbo, the satyr gave a rough, almost boyish laugh-- it sounded so much like the concertina she loved to play.
"See, where I come from, I'd sure as all hell tell a girl when she looked awful! Save her from some humiliation and the public from being subjected to that!" she said around a grin, ears perking up. Then again, she hailed from a clan whose belief was that one man's business was everyone's business. It was, perhaps, the main reason Teresa had zero shame and no concept of personal space, even in the company of strangers. Her tail flicked to and fro like flax marsh grass. That barely restrained glee was back, running its fingers up and down her veins just beneath her skin.
"Seen her?" she parroted, curious. Now that was quite a change in the unitaur! "Who's her? Goodness me, I think everyone's been traveling lately. People keep stopping by, passing through, moving on.... Last I heard, Autumn was the season of dying, but lately--" she shrugged, hands spreading as if to encompass the whole of the Isles "-- I don't understand the charm of extensive travel myself. I quite like it here!"
Teresa turned her brightest, most impish smile on him yet, eyes lighting up. After all, it wasn't everyday you ran into the stuff of bedtime stories!
"It's a pleasure, I'm sure! I'm Teresa," she said was a purposefully grandiose twirl of her hand and bow (sticking one very dainty hoof out!), very like her grandfather's stage grace. Her gold coins, tucked away in her brassiere, were jostled and several fell from the green top.
"It's raining gold, would you look at that!" she quipped, eyes popping open as she knelt to retrieve the fallen pieces. "You know, it's funny-- my friends and I were just making bets on your existence. Well-- okay, more on how well one of my friends could hold her liquor, but you guys came up afterward. Where were you then, if you don't mind my asking-- after being gone so long, that is. Vacation?"
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Posted: Sat Oct 17, 2009 12:13 am
“Well, that’s a pity. What a sad, sad state of affairs the world is in, when a unitaur’s word is doubted by all others. And here I was hoping to at least get a free drink just by existing. Alas.” Not that Lysander actually would expect such a thing… well, maybe a little, but only from admiring ladies who admitted his Lysander-ness, not just because of the unitaur thing. That was merely an added benefit.
Aha! Clearly, Teresa did not have a girlfriend, and nor was she planning on ever having one, not with that attitude. But Lysander didn’t say this, because he knew the manual on how girls worked. Or, at least, he thought he did. Instead, he merely raised an eyebrow and just watched for a moment. He had to admit, her joy was infectious, especially for someone who was naturally cheerful and shameless.
“Oh yes, her. I’d rather not use her name. She’s very much into the whole ~mysterious~ aspect of being a unitaur,” he said as he rolled his eyes. The little wavy lines around the word ‘mysterious’ were audible. Oh, and visible, since he insisted on wiggling his fingers when he said it. “You know, the whole ‘stick to the shadows’, ‘may the light of the moon shine on your path’, ‘merry and well met’, ‘may the luck of the shadows be with you’… I’ve never been able to get into that whole thing, but it suits her well enough. We were practically raised together. So, rest assured; there’s at least one other unitaur besides me in this world.” Actually… he tilted his head to one side and considered what Teresa had said earlier. Keely would probably be a better fit for all the myths and legends, he admitted grudgingly. Ah well.
As the gold pieces fell, Lysander knelt down to help Teresa pick them back up. It took him a little longer to kneel down, though, seeing as he had twice as many legs to sort out. “You know, this is why most choose to store their things in little bags,” he pointed out, happily handing the coins over to her. His kind had little use for money; after all, they rarely ventured into civilization. Even Lysander hesitated to go that far. “Making bets, huh? Hmm… so, what did you bet, I wonder?”
Now that was worth wondering about, he thought. Once all the coins were plucked from the grass, he trotted around Teresa, giving her the same treatment he had given her earlier. “I was traveling, of course! Just for the sake of travel! The world is such a wide and amazing place, it would be a huge pity to stay in the same area forever.”
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Posted: Sat Oct 17, 2009 2:48 pm
Teresa gave a pleasant hum, "Yes, well, when you disappear for ages upon ages, what do you expect? You think too highly of us! Some of us do try to keep the old tradition alive, though-- songs, stories, dances, you know. My grandfather would keel over if he saw you! Why! I have an uncle that disappeared for years once upon a time, and just when everyone was used to the idea that he'd gone and kicked the bucket, he came back with some cockamamie explanation about getting lost going to the market. Really. And you guys were gone longer than he was!"
Just like she didn't understand the wanderlust that accompanied travel, Teresa also wasn't keen on this whole secrecy thing. If a taur was going to be all mysterious and enigmatic, of course no one was going to believe they existed. It was silly to think minds hadn't let go of hope. The young satyr had been riding the fence about her own belief in the unitaurs, but only because she grew up with them as integral part of her culture. Most others... little more than fireside fables, really. Things recounted to pass the time.
She gave a quick thanks when Lysander knelt to assist her, biting several coins to check for authenticity. She made a mental tally of the ones that went back into the safety of her halter, making sure the same amount went in that had come out.
"See, I'm sure that's practical and all, but bags are easy to find and n** out from underneath a person's nose. It takes a real brave soul to reach into a gal's built in coin purse without getting their bells rung first," she said, faking a right hook. "Keep wondering, buddy, 'cause a lady never tells. Anyway, you should find this friend of yours and - you know, if you don't mind my saying - repopulate the world with a coupla more unitaurs. Just putting it out there, since you know only one other."
A bold statement, for sure. It was a wonder Teresa hadn't chased Lysander back into anonymity for being so cheeky. She tucked the coins away, unfazed when the unitaur made a round about her. Teresa straightened, following him with her eyes instead of rotating to keep up. She consulted her pointed chin.
"I suppose it is, but you get to see things change. I suppose I've always found those little things most interesting. You know, my friend Yael, she has this other friend - met her for maybe a second - a palomino girl, she came from over the sea." Teresa moved her arm in a wave, indicating the ocean, "She has a funny accent, goes around without one of these--" she took a moment to snap at her top "-- Sweet as honey, though. I always figured there weren't so many taurs living out that far. So where you've gone... do they know you exist? I mean, really."
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Posted: Sun Oct 18, 2009 12:52 pm
“Ages upon ages?” Lysander snorted, a distinctly horse-like noise. He even dragged his hoof through the dirt, creating a nice little line. “I’ve hardly been missing any time at all! Just a few years…” and here was where they entered a slightly tricky bit of ground. Keely was right. Talking to non-unitaurs was downright tricky. You just had to keep adjusting your mind. It was a bit like walking through a bit of swampland. While everything looked all nice and green and solid, it was really liquid underneath a layer of moss and you never really knew where you stood. Some things----like time----just didn’t translate well.
Honestly, you disappear for a few dozen years, and other taurs just think you’ve gone and died out! Such tomfoolery! “And of course, the world’s changed a lot, you know.” He wrinkled his nose, showing pretty much what he thought about the world’s changes. “Even in just five hundred years. Unitaurs don’t adjust to change well. We’re really just a bunch of stubborn ol’ goats, begging your pardon, of course, when it comes to things like change. We don’t like it.”
Course, Lysander thought that the world had a lot of good things to offer everyone. For example, he was currently wondering if, maybe, just maybe, he could trot up to a fine young female centaur, give her a wink, and let her know that, yes, the horn was real. But Teresa ruined those thoughts shortly afterwards when she suggested that he and Keely get about to increasing the unitaur population. Lysander went red in the face, but not from embarrassment, but from the sheer effort of trying to hold his laughter in. It was a losing battle and he quickly broke into a round of whinny-like mirth. “Oh, that’s rich! If you ever come across a dark-blue unitaur, Teresa, do me a favor and tell her that to her face! Her expression would be priceless!”
The light blue stallion even had to wipe tears out of his eyes from laughing so hard. “Look, she’s not that sort of girl. She wouldn’t be interested.” Which, of course, said nothing about Lysander’s interest levels. “Anyway, back to this betting thing and what you, specifically, bet on. You said a lady never tells and I’ll give you that, but you are not a lady. Real ladies don’t wander around grabbing innocent ‘taurs by the horns, you know. And of course people I’ve met know that unitaurs exist. They’ve met me, after all. It’s hard to deny someone’s existence when they’re standing right in front of you, especially if they have a nice, sharp three-foot long horn. Just sayin’.”
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