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 Posted: Sat Nov 10, 2012 2:48 am
with Storei
summary of what the Clemmings & Malts did before Be Still,
after which they separated
early May 1411 to late December 1411
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Posted: Sun Nov 11, 2012 2:06 am
May 1411 - pt. 1
Sparks of grandeur aside, the Clemmings and Malts did not leave the Lord's estate immediately. Instead they languished a bit, worked, argued, then left quietly. They were encouraged to, not by the Lord directly, but the surrounding civilians, and the townsfolk, and some servants.
The Malts quickly agreed to it-- they realized they were trouble. Georgie and Adal were used to this, though they never found it in themselves to ask Chauhn and Clurie what they felt.
Both Georgie and Adal had stayed in Shyregoed for much too long, but the realization came too slowly, and they were forced to endure both cultist and corvid troubles in too enclosed a space. They were sicker and sadder still the more they stayed in the North, and Georgie's health had declined to a crippling point. He could not stand most days without sleeping well into dusk, and frequently broke into cold sweats. Adal was left to tell the Clemmings that Georgie was a sick boy, and this would not change, not even after leaving the north.
Their decrepit state only enhanced their wanderlust, though, and they were more eager than before to travel every cranny of Panymium. While Georgie slept in their reclaimed caravan, which they'd left at Freykeep, Adal charted routes and dreamt up a great many stories. He didn't notice the Clemmings much, as they were mostly stuck helping Georgie with his chores and illnesses. The Locos didn't mind, as he as quieter from a closer distance, and often fell at a loss of words when confronted by Clurie.
Cleaning and traveling were the brunt of what the Malts focused on their first month out of Shyregoed. It was hard keeping an enthusiastic (or spitfire, in Adal's case) mask on around the Clemmings constantly, so their energies drained doubly quicker than it usually did. The Malts appreciated their help nonetheless, though, and a month into living together asked in private about helping with other, more complicated things.
That required tutoring, of course, in reading and writing. Adal and Georgie thought it was a simple enough task, but what they didn't explain was that they'd done it since early childhood.
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Posted: Sun Nov 11, 2012 2:50 am
May 1411 - pt. 2 The Clemmings, on the other hand, were at first reluctant to leave the place that they had decided was their replacement home, but it didn't take long for them to realize that their supposed home no longer welcomed them. They had already decided that they needed to leave, but where was the question. It was thanks to their friendship with the Malts that they weren't entirely kicked out into the snow to fend for themselves. After speaking with them, with Chauhn attempting to sound anything but pleading, the Clemmings joined forces with the Malts and they found themselves installed into their caravan. While the Malts didn't have the heart to ask what the Clemmings felt, it was clear on their faces during their passage out of Shyregoed. Chauhn would either glance back over his shoulder, his eyes swollen with pain as he gazed at the ice bound landscape. He was guilty, and he felt responsible, for whatever circumstances had led to his poor standing with the Fellowship, and it weighed heavily on him, though he dared not show it openly to either his plague, or the Malts. He would sometimes confide in Georgie, tell him his guilt, his hurt, but before Georgie could do much to console him, he would shake his head and list the reasons for why he deserved such a fate. He would speak determinedly of redemption. Clurie, on the other hand, refused to look back over his shoulder towards Shyregoad, flustered and angry, betrayed, full of pent up feeling regarding those he had began to trust and revere as idols, those who had "tossed them out". His anger still burned bright, evident in the bright puff of his ashen cheeks. As they discussed the decision to leave the winter ruled land behind, both Chauhn and Clurie had turned worried glances to Georgie, their faces paling when they learned of his poor health. Chauhn immediately volunteered his and Clurie's efforts to taking care of chores and cleaning, of fixing and working whatever needed to be done in order to give Georgie as much time as he needed to rest. For once, Clurie didn't disagree. Chauhn convinced his body to wake up early and to fall asleep late, always sitting by Georgie's side to make sure that he was tended to and taken care of. Chauhn would often try to suggest herbal remedies that he had picked up in his own travels, anything to try and help the sickly boy who had so much trouble just to stand. Clurie would also spend some time with Georgie, angrily demanding that he stop being so sick so that Georgie could walk with him and tell him stories when the caravan stopped for the evening. It was interesting to note that Clurie only succeeded once in this effort and when they returned, Clurie had Georgie on his back, carrying him back with a worried frown pinched between his cheeks. Most of the time, though, when Clurie wasn't helping out with chores, the ash plague was with Adal, hounding after him in in order to keep himself from Chauhn and his brotherly intentions. He would be with him when he planned, asking questions every which way about anything that they ever did, demanding explanations and histories, stories and anything that he could get from Adal before the blonde plague blatantly shut him down. Clurie's hunger for information was insatiable, even when faced with Adal's wordless shrugs. There were a few times that the Malts could tell that Chauhn and Clurie were simply spending way too much time with one another because Clurie would be the first to snap, to lash out as his Grimm and to launch into an all out tirade with him while Chauhn howled back in pain. It would take both of the Malts to pry them apart, a few meals of apple toast, and a couple days of forced separation before they were able to approach each other with peace again. Chauhn would sulk about, Clurie might disappear and wander, or simply hide on top of the caravan. But with time, they were slowly, SLOWLY, getting better. The Clemmings, though occupied by their chores and their work, were quick to notice and remember any changes that were going on with the Malts. How could they not? So paranoid were they from their past experiences, that it had sharpened their senses, and sometimes, at night Chauhn and Clurie would stay up and talk by the light of Clurie's glowing hands, muttering their worries for the Malt brothers and their failing energies. When they were asked in private about those more complicated things, Chauhn and Clurie hardly let the Malts finish their sentences before they nodded and submitted their agreement, unified at least in their passion to serve Georgie and Adal. Tutoring, unfortunately, was a slow thing for Chauhn, but there was something to be said for his determination. He could be caught practicing and muttering phrases underneath his breath, angrily pursuing knowledge for the sake of being useful to the Malts, who had been so kind in taking him and his Plague underneath their wing. The strict determination alone was enough to catch him up to Clurie's easy learning speed, and soon they were able to call themselves apt learners. Clurie would practice spelling things out on his arm, tracing out glowing words in his ashen forearms, which he would wave to the Malts in order to double check his spelling. Chauhn, on the other hand, just used pen and ink, scribbling over his arms and then washing it off when they ran out of paper between towns. All the meanwhile, with wide eyes, and gaping mouths, they watched the changing scenery about them, never having felt so lost and so transported, so awed and so entraled, by the extent of their tiny traveling caravan.
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Posted: Sat Nov 17, 2012 9:48 pm
June 1411 - part 1
June bode ill tidings for the Malts.
The tutoring was going well enough, though Adal was exasperated and felt they didn't make enough leeway. It had only been three weeks at that point, but Georgie urged both of the Clemmings to press on, even with a lack thereof of Adal's help. The brunette was ecstatic to have the two on board their caravan, as before he often had very lonely days. While he was the true apprentice to the Doctor, it was Adal that seemed to do a brunt of the work half the time, and the hours Georgie previously used stewing with ennui were now put to use caring for others. His friends. Boys his age. Just as much as Chauhn and Clurie wanted to give their service to him, he returned wholeheartedly with gingerly care.
He still couldn't move much in June, however, so the brunt of his contributions towards the caravan were in the academics. He sweated out fevers daily but didn't mind, really, and cared little to notice it, as he had other things to tend to. As his illnesses dragged on, though, it was becoming harder and harder to teach the Clemmings, and their lessons were cut short, though he tried during the mornings to annotate and fix their spellings and handwriting to the best of his ability. He was no good writer, so even that much took an exasperating amount of time.
Nearer to the second week of June, the Malts and Clemmings stumbled into the heart of southern Imisus. Adal had pushed their travels hard, and they were moving as quickly as they could with the resources they had. Georgie encouraged him, despite his own shortcomings. It was a part of teaching the Clemmings something, after all.
Georgie could not stand by mid-June. He slept for a majority of the day, and the tutoring had stopped completely.
Adal was at a loss.
The Plague received Chauhn's suggestions of herbal remedies to Georgie earlier with ill reactions, but once Georgie was bedridden, travels had ceased and they rested at the edge of Gadu. The capital of Imisus was still in a state of dire repair, but this made the city gates easier to get by. They lived at the heart of the outskirt slums while Adal requested Chauhn and Clurie's assistance in parading the apothecaries.
It was only around then that Adal's words started to blossom, if not for worry, as the pique of his exhaustion had passed when Georgie's health disappeared completely. It was also then that the quiet Plague admitted many things, and questioned just as much. He apologized for their time in Shyregoed, he asked the Clemmings what they had learned, and, most importantly, he thanked them for being with them.
Georgie's health was improving an impressive amount as soon as they'd landed in Gadu, despite the condition of the ruined Gadu slums. Apothecaries weren't of much help in curing Georgie's illness, but all of them did point towards the same diagnosis: it was fatigue. The lands of deep Shyregoed did a load on his health, it seemed, and the difference between the deep Northern lands to the milder Eastern lands was not a kind transition to Georgie's body. Adal reluctantly agreed to the advice and saw to it to calm down.
The Locos was more receiving of Clurie's questions and began to tutor the two Clemmings more frequently during that time. Of course, unlike Georgie, Adal was no kind tutor-- he moved quickly through subjects, critiqued harshly, and had a sharp eye for mistakes. His annotations and markings were swift and easier to read, lessons were in the mornings, and chores were to be done in the evenings.
Adal would help with what he could and disappear until dawn. June was full of loaded days, and Imisus was laden with many Plagues. Still, after a while, it was tradition for Adal to sit down in the cramped hallways of the caravan and tell whatever tales he knew to Chauhn and Clurie. It was cathartic. He hoped that the Clemmings thought the same.
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Posted: Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:50 pm
June 1411 - part 2 Press on, they did. The Clemmings, upon their arrival, could collectively recite the alphabet and transcribe it as well as write down the most basic forms of sentences, and read what was put up on signs. It was enough to get by, but it wasn't enough to make a scholar of either of them. With the help of the Malts, however, they had far exceeded that during their studies, which thankfully resulted in them being able to read through their lessons and their books without having to pester Adal or Georgie every other sentence. Clurie, of course, excelled over Chauhn, but Chauhn made an effort that was to be applauded, even though their combined efforts weren't nearly as fast going as Adal would have liked. It was still a fast pace to the Clemmings, whose brains would spin about in their heads as they tried to digest their lessons in the evening, words and letters frequenting their dreams. Their lessons, as the weeks continued throughout the summer, were slowly changed from Georgie to Adal, with the latter soon taking up the entire responsibility of it. Clurie didn't seem to mind, since he liked the directness of Adal's lessons, but Chauhn noticed a change, and he slipped behind in his studies a bit, on account of constantly spending his thoughts on worries about Georgie. It was hard not to worry about him, even though their journey took them back into the familiar realm of Chauhn's homeland, the land of his mother. He grew incredibly quiet, incredibly sullen, and it was hard to get his chin up when it was so weighed down with guilt and memories, things that he would rather not face again. Even for Clurie, who prayed for his silence when he didn't want to hear his blathering, couldn't stand the amount of quiet that Chauhn would give during their time passing through Imisus. He would actually start engaging in conversation with him, just attempting to tease him out of his sullen air and dreadful misgivings about their location. This all compounded when Georgie could no longer stand, something which distracted Chauhn from his mulling about, for which Clurie was bitterly thankful for. Between Adal and Chauhn, they spent most of their time traversing through every scrap of herbal lore they could muster between them, attempting each and every remedy to cure the ailing apprentice. When nothing gave a miraculous recovery, Chauhn and Clurie raided the apothecaries with made up sob stories that might have been too close to truth, and gathered all that they could to ease Georgie's suffering. Clurie knew that Chauhn would be tending to Georgie with most of his spare time, so he did the same with Adal, opening up for him to provide a willing ear and a shoulder to lean on, and he grew surprised at the exposure of the softer side of Adal, a part of him that was so often thickly veiled behind a cankered mask of indifference and cynicism that Clurie, at first, doubted its sincerity. He remained an open source of council though, often just letting Adal talk and express himself when he felt like it, because Clurie honestly didn't know how to formulate a proper response. He enjoyed the fact that he was there for him, though. He felt like Adal and he were developing a good friendship, something which he clung to since the other option would be to cling to Chauhn. With their journey ending in forced calmness, it was easy for the Clemmings to settle into it despite the intensity of the reasons being for their relaxation. They had a steady and stricter routine now, and while they floundered a bit at the beginning of learning with Adal as opposed to Georgie, they quickly got a handle of their new teacher. It was busy work and that was what the Clemmings needed, but what they wanted usually added up to the evenings spent with Adal upon his returns from his mysterious travels, evenings that would be filled with Adal's voice as he spun tales and relayed the news of the surrounding towns, the people and the plagues within. Many of the stories were sad, but Chauhn and Clurie only wanted to see happy endings and would often discuss the story until a point of goodness had been made. They were all so eager for lies, but how could anyone judge them for wanting that? After seeing what they had seen, after living through what they had, or the realities they faced when they rolled out of bed, attaching dreamy lies to the ends of Adal's stories, a long addition of hopes and wishes for those they had spoken about, was just as cathartic for the Clemmings as it was for Adal. Thankfully, though, Adal had a great many tales and stories that didn't need to be twisted into happy endings, and those were their favorite stories of all.
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