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 Posted: Fri Feb 08, 2013 1:18 am
 Where: The edge of New Hemisect’s slums. When: Past Midnight Why: A young troll uncovers something peculiar about his enlisted scavenger hunt helper, and decides to use her talents to defeat the forces of mediocrity!
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Posted: Fri Feb 08, 2013 1:25 am
In order to understand the city – in order to be ready for anything at any time, and prepare yourself for the dregs of society wrenching at your pant legs while being closely followed by the royal guard ready to assassinate you at any moment – you must travel the city. And you must do it alone.
Not only that, but you must be sharp of mind and quick of foot, discerning and decisive in a pinch. You’re weak now, but one day you’ll be fearful enough. You should be. There is no excuse.
This is what I’ve told you. But do you listen? No. You’re so easily distracted by frivolities. I hate that. Stop it. What are you doing. Where are you going. That’s not the way you should be going. Stop.
Strochio craned his neck over his high roost to peer down at his charge, meandering about below like some flea with no furbeast to chew on. The lusus naturae sat adroitly upon the shoddy architecture of New Hemisect, nestled between an abandoned hive and a cluster of hivestems. From his position he could see exactly where he’d mapped out his newest training exercise, but as always his charge was completely off the mark. Strochio’s eyes bulged, and the great bird let out a low barking grunt in frustration. He could see very well that the accomplishing the goal of this exercise would, as most of the others, be completely forgotten.
Strochio wondered if the boy even knew where he was going. He’d dropped him off here before. The kid should at least know how to get home on his own.
He shifted his massive legs and stretched into a standing position. The troll had stopped his nonsense and was now dillydallying and looking at a paper. Before long, the troll pranced about and turned a corner, nearly out of sight. The wrong direction of course. He was heading straight towards the slums. Strochio swiveled his head to scratch his neck idly. If anything, this failed mission would at least yield some interesting results.
----
Ganyma trotted through the city, confident and peppy as ever. The boy’s oversized bag slapped at his back as he stalked down the sidewalk, jumping over cracks and occasionally nearly colliding with a passerby. His eyes were focused mainly on the ground (again, no use jumping over cracks when you can’t see them!), which caused most of the turmoil on his side of the street. It was only until an unfortunate triple crack jump incident that the troll thought to look up and take stock of his surroundings.
Ganyma moved himself out of the way with great care, adjusting his jersey and regaining composure after his diversion. The troll looked left, and then right. Hmm.
Immediately, his mind was at work, trying to recall and collect the symbols that he had so carefully memorized before. There was a leather goods stand, but everything seemed drearier than the better part of town. Ganyma tipped his head up and took note of the time of night and the weather – it wasn’t any sort of smog: the air was just dirty here. He wrinkled his bandaged nose and kept looking about. The roads were weathered from foot traffic, grime and were neglected in comparison to other parts of the city (which was saying quite a lot for New Hemisect). The poor air, the stand, the roads… Hm.
Nope. Not ringing a bell. Ganyma could sense Strochio’s disappointment from a mile away. He looked around one last time before pressing himself against the wall of the nearest building, all the while grabbing for his backpack. When he finally got a hold of it, the boy whipped it around in front of him, rustling the rather noisy contents. He pulled open the top pouch and reached inside. Out of the bag emerged a crumpled piece of parchment, with rather vague instructions on it – they’d clearly been written by Ganyma himself. The paper itself was nearly illegible due to the boy’s handwriting and the unfortunate tear down the center of the page.
Ganyma frowned and for a moment struggled to orient the page into a readable position. Finally, he seemed to settle upon upside down and turn-ways.
“Hmm… What was I supposed to get, again?” Ganyma questioned out loud to no one in particular. He licked his finger and rubbed at a smudge of something or other on the paper to try and regain the legibility, but ended up with quite the opposite result. He pouted briefly before his thinkpan kicked back into gear.
Was it a crustloaf, maybe? Looks like… Looks like there’s a person here… He squinted and pressed his nose against the paper before holding it as far away from his face as he could. Strochio wanted him to go into the city and get… A… Thing. Yep! This is definitely a thing.
Ganyma struck the paper with the back of his hand and grinned. He was to collect something in the city. Preferably next to this crustload salesman. The clues were all falling into place now. He sniffed the air like a hound – it still smelled like dirt, but this time there may have been the smell of baked goods in the air! He could just feel it.
“This way!” Ganyma directed at his invisible forces behind him, and began marching towards the slums. Surely this could not go wrong.
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Posted: Thu Feb 14, 2013 11:29 am
She knew the city well enough. She knew about being ready for everything, almost a little too well.
She'd lived here for a while. Ever since she was little; her first hive here was still the one she lived in to this day. She'd wandered the roads and back allies and highways and every small nook and cranny; she ran errands a lot for her lusus, did weird things. She never asked why, she just did them. It was easier that way.
Combined with an innate fear of socialization, Sarcel had become quite adept at traversing the area in a fashion that let her stay out of the public eye. She was small and tiny and often went unnoticed as it was, unless someone saw the blue mark on the front of her shirt. That was really her only protection, that shade of blue; otherwise she'd be as dead as all the sorry lowbloods in the streets, left to the feast of the day-dwelling undead.
A number of things had happened since then. She'd ventured out, made friends; the caverns were still a small thought in the back of her head, but they didn't plague her as badly as they had. She started going outside again. She started to mess with her newfound power; something she still preferred to keep a secret, as it wasn't something she wanted others to exploit.
She found it handy, though. At first the practice was hard to master; only parts of her would go invisible at a time, or sometimes she couldn't become visible again. She had to focus for a long while at the beginning, feel the gentle coolness of the air on her skin, feel the very slight warmth of the light. It sort of made a static sensation on her skin if she focused on it, and so she could make the light bend around her form. Invisible to the naked eye.
But she had become better at it. No longer was it a spontaneous thing; she could do it more quickly, more adeptly. She would wander the streets of the city in her invisible form, watching with a small wonder at how no one could notice her. How she could no longer take the back ways, but that she could traverse in public now, real public. She explored more as a result.
And she'd come across the downtrodden slums on more than one occasion. She remembered being here before— visible— receiving glares and stares and get outs and you don't belong here's. She ran away, and she never looked back.
But now she could. She was curious. She looked at the world around her with eyes that couldn't be seen, and she started to enjoy and love this idea of her power. Yes, she was still a freak for having it, but at least she was a cool freak.
The entire elixir problem had made it difficult, however. While it was easier to manage due to the... noticeable lack of surface area, it also tired her small child-turned body faster than before. It wasn't anything bad, and she managed well enough, but it was still something short of a hassle.
At the moment she was following a particularly interesting sight; a small little tealblood wandering the area with a ripped piece of parchment. She was intrigued and invisible, and eventually gave way to following him. She felt a little guilty—wasn't this like spying?— but she couldn't really help it. It was like being placed in front of a cookie jar and being told not to touch them; her small rapidly devolving-back-into-immaturity mind couldn't resist. It was just... weird to see a fellow highblood in such a strange part of town.
Besides, even as much as she tried to resist her childish demeanor, the paper game looked fun.
Perhaps it was the invisibility that gave her a new found boldness, but she went with it all the same. He didn't seem very bright anyway (maybe he really was a kid, unlike her teen-turned-child self?) and it made her... worry just a little bit.
“This way!”
Sarcel jumped a little as the tealblood suddenly shouted and started off. Little did he know there really were some invisible forces behind him.
And so she started after him—marching almost out of habit— towards whatever or where ever this kid was trying to go. Something told her this was going to be an adventure of sorts to behold...
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Posted: Sun Feb 17, 2013 9:40 pm
Ganyma’s carefree ignorance had garnered a fair bit of attention. Eyes lingered upon him as he moseyed by, looking intently but happily at his surroundings. In a couple of ground-floor hivestem dwellings, thin fingers emerged to slip open the doors, clutching at the frames with curiosity and contempt. The sheer contrast of the well-to-do tealblood was unsettling at best, with hushed whispers dimming as he passed, and increasing in volume thereafter.
The deeper the troll wandered, the more derelict the city structure became. Walls in the slums had gained a musty scent. The architecture itself felt off – now the hivestems were crushed together in an attempt to be economical, and even the hives themselves seemed uncomfortable with their close contact. It looked like at any moment the buildings could tip, being placed at rather concerning heights and in odd angles. Travelers on the roads lessened; a fearful aura of the unknown replaced the bustle of the city.
Ganyma, naturally, was unaware of this. He was concerned getting to where he was going, rather than what was going on around him. He looked for signs and symbols to remember his way, repeating them under his breath to attempt to commit them to memory. Ganyma was a champion of the lowbloods. He had to find the Thing, no matter at what cost. The medicine… For the grubs! His lowblooded kin depended on it.
The child flounced around in a mock-march as far as his attention span would carry him – about five minutes, give or take. He dissolved back to a jaunty step as he looked around, investigating his surroundings with intense scrutiny. His previous fantasy faded as the atmosphere of the city became darker and darker still. Whether Ganyma was conscious of the change in the city on an intellectual level, something about being the leader of hope in this part of town seemed off now. Ganyma switched roles at the drop of the hat to accommodate the cityscape.
As far as Ganyma was concerned, he was an Alternian spy on a mission planet-side – the Queen’s own trusted aid, leader of his own squadron of his agents. He couldn’t mess this up! He had to get the Thing and return to her in one piece! The weapon to take the Nemesis Planet!
He made sharp hand motions, gesturing for his crew to go, go, go! and spun around to usher them forward, then shuffling back with his knees bent and head low to the ground. The enemy wouldn’t even know what’d hit ‘em. He’d get the job done in this wreck of a town, and then some. And he’d find the Thing, too! Yeah!
“Pshhoo, pshhooo!” Ganyma threw a couple of jabs and an uppercut at three particularly menacing invisible enemies. Nodding confidently after having dispatched his foes, the young troll clutched the parchment he still held in his hand and readjusted his backpack. The troll had neglected to shut the flap of the bag after retrieving his instructions, and it flopped and bobbed furiously as though it was trying to strike up a conversation. Ganyma failed to notice as the sagging bag spit out a small journal, a little inconspicuous packet and a few beetles onto the ground – but he didn’t get very far before hitting the ground himself.
About a block away from his fallen goods, Ganyma’s vigorous pretend-fight had escalated. Soon enough, in doing some sort of super-spy spin move, the troll managed to snag his heel on his other boot, and swung to the ground face-first with a whoosh and a rather resounding thunk. Ganyma could hear a slight click as his busted nose jarred back into one of its previous locations.
“Gnnghh… Ouch…” Grunted the troll. He sniffed a bit, feeling for sure the thin bubble of teal blood around his nostril pop and trickle down from his nostril. Ganyma sat back on his behind, scratching the front of his head to get the plentiful amounts of dirt off. How embarrassing. He looked around sheepishly, and struggled to get to his feet, wiping his nose with his hand.
“Oh!” Ganyma perked up and swung his bag off of his shoulder, rustling the inside excitedly. He’d brought some tissues in case his nose was acting up again… Where were they? Maybe… Maybe he didn’t pack them.
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Posted: Fri Mar 01, 2013 9:46 am
Thankfully for Sarcel, she had garnered no attention at all. Better that way.
The city was making her uneasy with how it was growing more and more dilapidated. Cracks appeared in the ground in larger clusters; obviously they hadn't been tended to in a while. Buildings and hives existed; a messy front to this almost new world, crammed tightly together with broken windows or no windows at all or if there was a window it was covered in a thin, listless layer of dust or dirt or grime. The blueblood felt frightened when there was really no need to be; she was safe, but she didn't belong here. This wasn't her place. This wasn't that tealbloods place either; she wondered why he decided to trek out here. For what reason would he even have? She wouldn't know.
But, judging from his attitude, he was a child rather than teen-turned-child like she was. At the very least, he had a childish wonder and a certain sense of immaturity that led her to believe such a thing, and she was vaguely concerned. She had grown used to this art of melding in with the surrounding world, but what about this tealblood? In all his jubilant prancing, she wondered if he understood where he was, what the gravity of the situation was.
The hair stood up on the back of her neck; more importantly, if he was a child, where was his lusus? She suddenly glanced around, expecting to see some hulking equally tealblooded beast skulking around the broken parts of the city; the shadows at night, the things that made her so afraid. Sarcel paces herself; she had to admit, the worse part of being child-turned was the irrational immaturity that occasionally bubbled up. She wasn't afraid for herself, she was just afraid for everyone else.
But especially the tealblood. He didn't seem to have a single care in the world; one second an experienced boxer, the next he was sneaking around... She kept a quick pace, which wasn't much of a problem since she was naturally a runner, but her suddenly shorter legs made things a little bit awkward when it came to fast walking. Running was no problem, but it was harder to keep a long, quiet stride when she had the legs of a child.
But at least she didn't have the mind of one. Granted, the mind of a 6.4 sweep year old wasn't great either, but at least she could handle herself, like most others her age. Maybe they were all young, but that was the thing; everyone has to grow up fast in this age, or they fall behind. It's hard growing up, but she was making it out okay in the end; at least, she was going to go down fighting. She'd made it this far.
Her thoughts were snapped away when the tealblood suddenly tripped and landed flat on his face, causing her to jump and almost lose her composure. She held strong. Her first instinct was was to run over, but she caught herself, you're invisible, remember, you're not here (but not without a pause to look down at her hands to make sure she was, in fact, still invisable). She cringed outwardly at the bubble and trickle of blood, somewhat surprised that he wasn't so phased by what looked otherwise painful. Just a quick wipe and the smear of teal on his arm; suddenly he was up again. That was good, the tealblood boy was alright, she wasn't startled, and she was alright too.
“Oh!”
She can't help the yelp when he suddenly speaks out and rips the bag off his shoulder, covering her mouth quickly with her tiny little hands. She didn't dare check, but the shudder she felt over her skin already confirmed what she was afraid of; she was visible.
Not for long.
As quickly as the girl had appeared, she tried to vanish again, knowing that it was probably already too late.
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Posted: Thu Mar 14, 2013 11:06 pm
Ganyma stopped still as an antlerbeast, his eyes wide. A faint trickle of teal persisted to slip out of his perpetually broken nose as he looked transfixed at the spot where the girl had disappeared. Slowly, he removed his hand from his bag. With a quivering silence, he sniffed and smeared his nose once more, now gazing at the area with a quizzical squint and pucker of his lips. "Hello?" He squeaked. There was no answer, but what was he expecting? Ganyma cocked his head slowly, his eyes darting to view different alleyways of the dilapitated corner of New Hemisect. The atmosphere began to soak in. Ganyma cleared a knot out of his throat and sniffed some ooze back into his nose. The sensation of being followed was something that he didn't normally sense. Another tentative check around the area.
He could have sworn he saw something. "Strochio?" He called hesitantly. That was no white mass that disappeared into an alley. Could it have been a... A troll, maybe! A largely grey and black mass was certainly a troll. Or maybe he was just hallucinating from the force of his fall. Ganyma's imagination fathomed a hundred possibilities before settling on the most and least logical answer at the time.
Nope! There's couldn't have been someone there. Definitely not. Ganyma had been a super spy long enough to know when he was being followed. Not even by... Not even by an imaginary friend. Ganyma's fantasy of grandeur assured him that he was too well prepared to be ambushed. He straightened self-assuredly, and after a beat, Ganyma seemed to relax. Falling on one's face has a way of creating sobriety, and the exciteable child was no exception. His face and chest still stung, and now he was seeing things! What a day. He wiggled his nose and promptly remembered that his ever-bleeding appendage was acting up again. Ganyma shot a glance back towards his invisible stalker.
At just that instant, Ganyma's eye caught his lost goods in the distance. Just down the block, his little packet and journal lay alone and discarded on the ground. And in that moment, the child had two instant reactions. The first, of course, was to gasp loudly. The sound that the child made was rather eerie - an inhale of realization and grateful shock, mixed with the plugged click of his nostrils. This was largely overshadowed, however, by his second reaction: Charging full steam ahead. Barreling up the sidewalk, Ganyma shot with amazing speed towards his prize. He was to recover his items and get back on his quest at once! He had an ornery lusus to appease, after all, and all this time being a spy and a rebel fighter was arduous and lengthy work. He practically threw himself ahead to retrieve the items-- and naturally, threw his momentum in an immediate collision course of his invisible companion.
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Posted: Sun Mar 31, 2013 8:26 pm
It was sort of a bizarre feeling, looking right into the eyes of the tealblood who was looking right back, yet knowing they he wasn't seeing her at all. Her tiny hands still remained clasped over her mouth tightly, the tiny yelp still half-hitched in her throat; she wouldn't dare remove her hands, for fear that the noise would escape like air from a balloon.
Instead she just watches the child as he calls out, looking around confused and bewildered, her huge yellow eyes following every movement as she's frozen in the same spot, afraid to move or make any sort of sound or notion that she was a present figure. When she was invisible, she was unknown to the world around her, and she preferred to keep it that way and stay an enigmatic force that, for all everyone cared, did not exist. She allows her hands to move slightly and her lungs to breath in quiet relief when the troll starts to lose interest; too close of an encounter for her liking.
She's about to make a run for it when the child turns around again, her expression going shocked again as she tenses nervously before reminding herself, once again, that he cannot see her. Unbeknownst to her is the discarded journal behind her; how silly that Sarcel would for even a second believe she's home free! Despite feeling like she's rooted to the spot, the blueblooded girl takes a hesitant step to the side, movements slow and deliberate like prey waiting to bolt. She focuses her attention on the trail of teal blood still leaking from his nose—much better than acknowledging his gaze—vaguely remembering the time when Sir broke his nose; it looked painful enough, but evidently not painful enough to cause the child any distractions.
Her thoughts are stopped short when the child suddenly inhales, looking shocked. Her first thought is to peer over her own shoulder, but the reaction never happens when the tealblood suddenly charges towards her—and then her first thought is to scream—but the noise is lost up until the boy slams into her; only then does she finally screech, although the sound is cut short when she slams into the pavement, the sudden impact to her head blurring her vision for a moment.
Inevitably, Sarcel remains visible to the world again, dazed and in a slight, if not growing amount of pain from the collision.
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Posted: Thu Apr 25, 2013 12:03 am
Ganyma felt a tingle on the back of his neck as he collided with something intangible – like the feeling of going down the stairs and missing a step, or falling out of a tall recuperacoon. He drew in a quick shocked breath and wailed in response to the screaming ghost he’d run into.
“Uuhh-AAHHH!” he toppled to the ground, suddenly tangled in someone—or something’s—limbs, flopping onto a soft, warm surface. Oh, it was a body. That would explain it.
The child was stunned. He jerked around like a fish out of water, and finally rolled off of the girl. He’d gotten some teal on her deep blue symbol – a blueblood. Any oddities or implications based upon the invisible highblood in the worst part of town were lost on the child. Ganyma simply regained his ground and sat on his rear, wiping his face with a hand. He reached forward to help her get up, apologetic.
She came out of nowhere! He skeptically took a glance at the girl. The poor thing looked like she could use a bite to eat or a protein slush. She also was pretty cute. And a kid! Just like him. Where did she come fro— After a brief, chaotic moment of thinking, Ganyma’s eyes widened. His mouth formed a perfect “o”. He scooted towards her, his sweatpants gathering dust and grime from the urban ground.
“YOU ARE A GHOST?” he burst, eyes immediately aglow. Sharp ears could detect the sound of a door lock with a click behind the two as the bluebloods sat on the ground.
“MY NAME IS GANYMA! YOU’RE REAL, RIGHT? WHAT’S YOUR NAME? HOW DID YOU DO THAT?” His body may have been aching, but the kid was as sharp as ever.
Strochio receded back into the darkness of a nearby alleyway.
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Posted: Sat Feb 22, 2014 3:04 pm
((and then we had an out-of-guild experience for a while -- there is a bit of a backlog)) Melancholies Sarcel heard the startled screech from the tealblood—such was probably inevitable—she'd scream too if she suddenly ran into someone (or something) that shouldn't be there. Instead, she simply stayed where she was with her eyes screwed shut, hoping that this was all just a bad dream and he hadn't seen her (even though the girl knew deep down he probably had) and that if she kept pretending it would eventually come true. Kind of pathetic, really; Sarcel gave herself a mental slap, figuring she had to deal with the consequences sooner or later. Once the weight left her chest she took a deep inhale that was previously impossible and opened her eyes, heaving herself upright, hands searching her person to make sure she hadn't been terribly harmed; Sarcel was nothing if not fragile. She turned to the tealblood with an anxious expression, almost shellshocked, when he suddenly started to scream questions at her with a certain exuberance that made her head spin in an effort to catch up. If she had to guess, she assumed that the tealblood wasn't like a teen-turned-young like she was, but an actual legitimate child. She gave him a dazed look over before finally sputtering out an “O-O-Of course I-I'm real!”; her voice betrayed her with a timid squeak. Sarcel knew she was probably in for the long haul now; this kid knew her secret—or at least saw her appear out of thin air—which might as well of been the same damn thing. “L-Look, nn...n-nevermind. D-Don't worry about t-th-that,” quickly looking for a way out of this, the blueblood got to her feet quickly, wiping the dust off of her cropped pants, “I...I-I'm Sarcel. S-Sarcel Cincil. Wh-What are you e-e-even doing o-out here? D-Don't you kn-know it's dangerous...?”
Sypon:Ganyma hopped up quickly, clicking his boots together to slap some of the dust off. With a final wipe of his nose, he managed to get most of his blood, and then wrung out his arm with his other hand. Shaking hands was not the most sanitary idea at this point, but it seemed that the troll was going to skip over the formality. "Good to meet you, Sarcel! I'm Ganyma!" He repeated. He put his little hands on his hips and twisted around, returning his gaze to his books. As he wandered over to pick them up, he perked an ear at her words. He was about to press about her sudden appearance, but she of course had to mention the danger and he immediately dropped the point. "Don't worry! I come here all the time! Strochio sends me. I mean, I haven't been in THIS neighborhood yet, but there's one..." He screwed up his face into a serious thinking position. He'd memorized the information through repetition. Two weeks ago. Go get moongrass seeds. Coalcreek Lane. Two blocks away. Two blocks away. After a long moment of the child standing perfectly still (for a change), he popped a finger up in exclamation. "Two blocks away that I went to, like, a million weeks ago," He rolled his eyes exhaustedly for dramatic effect. "Plus, he's probb'ly around here somewhere," Ganyma picked up the goods he had dropped and plopped them back in his bag. A surprisingly astute thought popped into his head. He smiled. "If it's so dangerous, what are YOU doing out here?" Melancholies Melancholies:She gave Ganyma a slow look, watching his sudden energetic and constant movements, “S-Strochio?” she echoed the name, wondering who that might have been; although she assumed it to be either a lusus or perhaps some particularly nefarious trolls who liked the notion of sending a naive kid into the slums. Either way, they were both here now. Sarcel listened to what he had to say, but kept her mouth shut. Two blocks away? She was still wondering why he was here, or what the individual who sent him had wanted anyway. Regardless, she gave the books another curious look, wondering what else he had in that bag, looking down at her general person to suddenly notice the teal blood on her symbol and, in a very hasty attempt to clean it off, only ended up smudging it further into her shirt. Chinchillamom would kill her. Well, he lusus would kill her for being in such a filthy part of town in general. She looked nervous when Ganyma smiled, eyes widening a little at his question. Why was she here? Sarcel kicked at the ground with her tiny checkered shoe, “W-Well...” she had followed the tealblood around to here, it was true, but she wouldn't of ventured in unprepared either. As it were, she could easily evade danger because of her invisibility, and that gave her the confidence to wander places she previously avoided. “B-Because I f-f-followed you! B-Besides, I-I can take c-care of myself.” she proclaimed, even though the way she was standing, tense and curled in almost like she was trying to make herself seem smaller, hardly backed the statement at all. The young troll's eyes widened. "Oh yeah! I guess you have! How do you do that, anyway?" He put his arm out and looked through it, trying to see if he could will himself to turn invisible. He had never heard about bluebloods with cool invisible powers... Just another thing that highbloods had that tealies like himself didn't. Ganyma buzzed his lips. His head was still spinning from the fall, but fortunately the cool power of his suddenly appearing new pal beat out the glumness of another cool thing that he didn't possess. It was sort of weird that such a cool troll would just follow him, of all trolls. As he looked at his arm in one last ditch effort to see it change color, furrowed his brow. "Hmm... Well... Why were you followin' me?" He asked slowly. Ganyma cocked his head to the side and regained eye contact with her. She seemed small and afraid, not much like someone who could take care of themself at all. People tended to look like that when he rammed into them, but she looked particularly startled. Permanently startled. Ganyma didn't really understand. "I mean, you've got cool invisible powers... Why don't you use them to do awesome stuff?" He trailed off in thinking of this, a pinch of jealousy returning to his throat. Suddenly his mission to collect the crustloaf seemed rather mediocre. It was a sour feeling. Melancholies Melancholies:She shrugged; she still didn't really know why she had the ability she did. She never would of dreamed of possesing such a power, and she never had it as a child. Her lusus was just as startled; why he? Sarcel didn't know. "I-It just k-kind of..." she rubbed her arm, eyes downcast with a certain shyness, "I-I dunno... O-One day I-I could just d-do it. I d-d-don't like it much th-though." She did admit it was a useful thing to have, and she was getting better about accepting it with each passing night, but the fact remained that highbloods didn't really get these kinds of things and yet she had. Growing up she thought herself unimportant and bland and mundane; this sort of thing shouldn't of happened to her... yet it had. She was even further removed from normality than she thought; some might of said she was special, but to her she was nothing more than a freak. "I-I guess I don't r-really know w-why I followed you..." she mumbled to her shoes, shifting her weight around, "A-And I dunno' w-why I don't u-uh... do a-anything aw-awesome." She bit her lip, voice wavering, stutter acting up. She hated the sound of her stutter, probably more than anything. It didn't matter if she was strong, because her stutter showed her vulnerability, even if she wasn't necessarily vulnerable. The notion made Sarcel bold; "Y-You still n-never an-answered my question. W-Why're y-you out here? W-Why'd this... S-S-Strochio p-person send y-you?" Ganyma was stunned. Everything he'd read and seen, every story showcased trolls with great status going out and doing great (or terrible, but great all the same) things with their abilities. Having this power and -- and doing nothing awesome was just -- just -- inconceivable! He shook his head. "O-oh. Uhh, yeah!" He batted at his nose with the back of his hand. "Strochio's my lusus. He likes to send me into the city for exercise and stuff. Nothin' big I guess. Nothing cool or... Or awesome..." The child plodded back a couple of steps, deep in thought. "I mean it doesn't matter or nothin'. I don't even know why you're followin' me! Ain't nothin' doin' here," he complained. He hoisted his bag over his shoulders and looked back at his path of action. Fortunately for the troll, he was nearly about to reenter a section of the slums with a decent market stock -- a lucky accident. "I mean, Strochio's prolly waitin' so I should get goin' to get this crustloaf. You wanna come along? I mean if you're so worried about me 'n stuff. It's pretty boring walkin' through the city alone," He gazed at her genuinely. With Strochio out of sight wherever he was, there wasn't much to do when crawling through the city these nights. Even with Strochio, there was no one to talk to. It would be a nice change! Hopefully she wasn't too scared to join him. Maybe it would spice up the night a little bit beyond playing pretend... But still... Come along and get crustloaf! Ugh, so boring. Boring, boring, boring and bland. There was no doubting that if HE had those cool powers, HE'D do some amazing things. Not get crustloaf. Ganyma's imagination began to rekindle in the back of his dampened thinkpan. He started to walk away, and then turned backwards. His face showed that he was under deep consideration. He looked Sarcel up and down. "Hey! If we get this done soon maybe I can get back a little later... And then we can find something AWESOME for you to do! To be like... Famous... Instead of boring." his eyes widened. An image seared across his illusionary sector like a flashbulb going off: bright lights! A red curtain! The Amazing Invisible Troll! Another flashbulb. A dark street. A grey trenchcoat under a lamppost. The Invisible Spy. He reached over with a long arm and grabbed her hand suddenly, giving her a refreshed grin. "Let's go!" Melancholies Melancholies:Maybe it was inconcievable to him, but for Sarcel she was trying to learn the art of not fleeing; it was a weakness to run away, and yet, that was the only thing she had been blessed with. Ironic how it turned out that way! Nevertheless, it only meant that she had to work twice and thrice as hard to make up for it with other skills that were far stunted; her strength and her everything else. At least she could vouch that she did in fact put in that immense effort, if only because she meant to please. Regardless, she listened to his explination, confirming that Strochio was in fact the child's lusus; perhaps the creature was still around, then, keeping a watchful eye on its charge. She definitely didn't put the thought past her, as it seemed pretty plausible, especially since, as far as she could tell, the lusus only had the keen intent on edjucating him about the outside world. "S-Sure," she said in an abrupt agreement, the words having sprung out of her throat before she could catch them. Perhaps it was a sign--a good thing--that she was developing refelxes like that! She wouldn't be a coward, couldn't be, she was a blueblood. Internally, aside from being suddenly startled by herself, she was pleased. Her silent victory didn't realy matter when Ganyma started to rant and rave about some sort of convoluted fame; boring? Sarcel hadn't meant to be boring, but she couldn't necessarily rebuke the fact either, since she did seem to live a very mundane life of traversing around in silence; her life was not her own, but rather a mix of the life around her; a strange hodgepodge of conflicting accounts and lives that wrote up to one massive story that became her own. She was a catalogue for these sort of things. Of course her life would be somewhat boring; she subconiously had sought out the excitement in others, perhaps to thrive vicariously when her courage failed her. Not tonight, although she didn't have much of a choice this time as her hand was grabbed firmly and she was dragged away, too startled to react and too bashful to protest. She was in for the long haul, she knew, "T-T-The amazing in-in-invisible troll?" Sarcel didn't know how to react to that, but the last statement--about being a spy--held a certain... appeal she didn't know was there. To be incognito; the perfect espionage! Too swift to catch and virtually absent from the waking world... it did seem, for a lack of a better word (Although it was the best her childish mind could conjure) awesome; "T-Th... S-Spy... T-That so-sounds c-c-cool..." She can't help but return the smile, something newfound flowing through her veins. They would both be okay, and she would help this child. Perhaps she could use the time to relive the stressful childhood she'd lost to chinchillamom, "B-But w-where are w-we go-goin'?" The child’s laughter echoed through the empty streets. He bounded with Sarcel in tow, now readjusting his imagination to include her in his fantastic adventures. “Yeah yeah! We can be spies! You can be the big one and I can be the little one! But I’ll be the leader and you can be my sidekick ‘cos that’s how it works, yeah,” he imagined. “We’re goin’ to get a crustloaf! There should be a place that sells one here somewhere,” he announced. Ganyma was looking around rapidly, seeing everything but absorbing none of it. “And gettin’ you ready for… For… For awesomeness,” he said. His eyes grew large as he walked backwards down the sidewalk, occasionally stumbling over a raised crack in the neglected payment. “Alright, try this…” he began. He raised his hands up in front of him and bent his knees in a fighting stance, ready for her training blows. “I’m the coach and you’re the underdog. There’s a big fight with the scary, uhh… Scary champ, right? And you’re gonna get the beetles to pay for the sick orphans! You gotta make your name in the big papers! Whaddaya do?” As he said this, he continued to back up, never looking behind him. The two were venturing farther into the slums, but Ganyma’s focus was entirely on the blueblood. He was immersed in his fictional fight – he was the coach, after all! It was a very important job… He was very important. Ganyma beamed. Melancholies Melancholies:Ah yes, the position of the spy. Sarcel remained mute as she trailed after the tealblood, listening to him talk; she was nothing if not a good listener, and she much rather preferred to listened rather than try to talk, less her stutter slow the conversation down to a snail's pace. One sided conversations were perfectly fine for someone like her. His suggestion worked just fine for her. Of all of the things Sarcel Cincil thought of herself as, a leader definitely wasn't one of them. Someday, in the far future, she would be able to achieve that honorable title of a leader, but until then she wasn't fit. Only until she had deemed herself (and more importantly, been deemed by Sir) a proper blueblood, she wouldn't hold herself to that criteria. It was a lot more fun to help anyways, to be the sidekick; yes, she was prefectly content with that, and responded to him with a strict--perhaps slightly enthusiastic to someone more perceptive--nod. His talk of crustloaf was interesting; certainly she would never of ventured into the slums for some crustloaf, and she couldn't begin to wonder why he would either, or rather for what reason his lusus would have him do it for. His abrupt change in stance caught her attention, and she slowed, watching him curiously as he took the look of an amature boxer, his words echoing 'you're the underdog'... She can't help herself; certainly, all of Sir's training was about to pay off! A tender protest rose in her throat, something courageous, even though the entire situation was silly in of itself; she was the underdog, and she needed to help those orphans dammit! She could do without the publicity, however. "I-I-I'm going t-to, uh, f-fight!" Sarcel said, feeling her tiny hands curl into tiny fists. She wasn't really fit for hand-to-hand combat, but she still knew the basics as Sir insisted, even if she didn't use them. In fact, she came to think that was more to her advantage! 'Opponents will see you as weak. They won't expect you to throw a punch'. "F-Fight f-for the or-orphans!" she said, a little too childishly than she would of liked. Maybe the tealblood's energy and attitude was contagious; but if she was going to be along for the ride, she might as well play along, right? Ganyma bubbled. He wiggled his fingers, urging her to take a strike. He stuck his tongue out in concentration, walking backwards over the pavement. “Yeah!” he howled, in character and with great gusto. “For the orphans!” Strochio watched with interest from his vantage point, now able to hang back upon seeing that the little blueblooded girl was not a threat. Ganyma was leading for once – he was learning. This misstep would bring some good to his cause, after all. And, whether the child knew it was there or not, a bakery stood a few blocks away in the direction-- give or take Ganyma’s backside. That was key. The checkpoint. Now, if he could just deliver. Strochio would settle for the child not being murdered today, but delving into this part of town and delivering on his task was good enough. Bare minimum even. The avian’s eyes narrowed. He wondered with growing hostility if his boy would notice the bakery behind him. “C’mon and take a jab! We’ve got, like, 5 minutes of a training montage before you can fight the champ and regain your glory from your fallen lusus! How’s the queen gonna see you if you don’t?!” he encouraged loudly. The mention of the queen sent a shuddering wave through the still, dirty air. There was a rustling in a nearby alley, and a large silhouette flickered past the window of a hive.
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