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 Posted: Sun Dec 24, 2006 6:41 pm
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Posted: Sun Dec 24, 2006 6:42 pm
Name: Zahur
Meaning of name: Egyptian name meaning flower
Gender: Gender-Less but is usually referred to as a male
Spirit: Flowers (In general)
Guardian/Watcher: Smyde Anemone
Hair: A tint of light brown, with streaks of green and a multitude of colors (e.g.: auburn, white, yellow, pink, etc...)
Why these colors: Brown to represent soil, green for the base/stem of the flower and a multitude of colors to represent the different colors on the petals of different flowers. Colors listed are just examples of some of the colors.
Eyes: Left eye blue, Right eye yellow
Why these colors: Blue referring to water which is part of the necessity of flowers to live and the sun to represent yellow which assists giving life and energy to flowers along with water.
Skin color: Peachy Pale
Why this color: BECAUSE I WANT TO -SHOT- D;
Personality: Zahur tends to have more than the recommended amount of mood swings according to Smyde. During the day he's both spontaneously happy, then a bit snobby/rude and yet turns to timid quite quickly. Zahur tells Smyde that there's no real reason to this but she has more than her senile doubts about this. At night time Zahur can be quite illogical due to lack of sunshine fueling his mind and tends to be incredibly frightful of any unknown source that comes in contact with him. Smyde tends to say it has something to do with the ideology that because he is the spirit of flowers he tends to act like them depending on the time of day, type of flower and even depending on flowers that might need something but isn't getting said thing and then react in crazy commotion.
Zahur tends to say that he has no idea in the whole potted vase was the heck ideology even is.
Even though he's quite bi-polar in his personality and actions if you find some crazy inexplicable way to actually start a conversation with the flower spirit he'll bloom much more openly to you (-shot for the flower puns-)
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Posted: Sun Dec 24, 2006 6:43 pm
"Flowers are in such wondrous bloom this season!~" Chimed a scratchy yet sweet chime voice through the forest meadows that shadowed her humble cottage. This poor old women lived alone here in the middle of almost nowhere. Well almost nowhere. Her house was actually two miles from the center of the great culture part of the county. Why Durem of course! (what you thought it was Barton, stupid)
She wasn't poor either. Well not if you consider poor being a healthy life, happiness springing in every corner of her wrinkly old cheeks and a vast supply of knowledge jumping in her unweighed brain. Her family? Still alive, but they rarely visited anymore. They said that she belonged in some kind of asylum. She could only laugh like a little maniac and agree through her laughs.
"Now then what color to pick first?" Pondered the old women, dancing around the dew-filled grass that led to the meadow flower garden. She was draped in a long dark purple (not quite violet) cloak from her head to old boot wearing toes, white hair that was laced in a bun falling to the sides of her old face. Now why did we call her old? She wasn't anything like one hundred or even eighty. In fact she was only around the tender age of sixty-four. So why call this young girl old? She implied everyone to as a matter of fact! Age was just an illusion to her. Who even knew her real age? She could be two hundred but in reality be six!!!
As she ogled at the array of different petal hues marked with complex to simple patterns. It was like going on a vacation in her own backyard. Want to see the twilight horizon of the beach? Go see her yellow/orange Cannaceaes near the northern right. Have a devil playing his fiddle; craving for red delight? To the roses in the center you hop. Feeling pretty in pink perhaps? You'll squeal like a school girl receiving her first kiss on prom night when you see her cherished Periwinkles!~
She giggled happily as she thought in her mind of all the delights. Yet that's when she noticed a strange dark hue in the midst of the colors. It was limp, frowning and was quite gray! One sad little flower didn't make. Smyde thought she heard an angel cry. With a sad frown Smyde took off her hood and twinkled her green eyes in twinkling disappointment. It was time for this one to take it's journey into flowery heaven. Kneeling down carefully not to smoosh or step on the other cheery yet inside mourning flowers she took the stem of the gray sad one carefully and lightly yanked it--
"DON'T YOU DARE HURT BOB!" Cried a shrill girly yet obviously male voice from...nowhere?!
Smyde quickly rose from her squat position and started to dart her head around the meadows. No one was here but her. How could this be? Was she hearing things, this old senile thing did! Dear oh dear she must be losing her head. With a sigh she bent down again and started to yank--
"ARE YOU DEAF YOU BAG OF BONES! I TOLD YOU NOT TO HURT BOB OLD LAAAADY~"
Smyde furrowed her brow at the assumption. How dare that voice from nowhere proclaimed. She was certainly not deaf at all! Whoever assumed that with their obnoxious voice was going to get a horrible punishment of which the likes no one has ever witnessed. "Well if I'm so deaf," Smyde boomed with authority, bending down slightly to smirk at the dead flower called 'Bob', "I suppose I'll just RIP OUT THIS FLOWER AND--"
"I SAID NO DAMMIT" The voice cried out, this time whining more than screaming. At that sound before Smyde could yank out 'Bob' she was suddenly launched from her spot and tackled meters from her spot. She blinked for a few seconds when she noticed a small boy on her stomach, clutching her dark purple robe intensely.
Smyde groaned a bit, surprised a small boy had so much spunk to tackle her down to the ground, just for trying to take out a dead flower from the meadow. "Why won't you let that poor flower go on to that botanic garden in the sky?" Smyde asked confusingly, picking up the boy with her frail arms, secretly amazed how light he was. Light like her azalea flowers in new bloom.
"His name is Bob," the little boy whimpered, his voice much lighter than before, "and he isn't suppose to die. Flowers should never die!" At that point the boy was wailing out tears that sputtered around the area. Smyde smiled lightly at his innocence to death but then looked a bit shocked at what was happening. With his small little tear dropping around the luscious grass the dead flower known as Bob started to gain color and stand up straighter. Now that was not normal!~
"Now don't cry deary," Smyde quickly said, still amazed that his tears brought back flowers to life. "See--see, Bob is alive~"
At her soothing words the boy stopped crying and then turned his head around slightly to see Bob back to his normal red and white colors. "BOOOOB~!!!"
Smyde giggled at the boy's childish acts, as he sprang out of her hands and ran to the flowers. He was a strange one indeed. Yet what was he to bring flowers back to life?
[/To Be Continued]
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Posted: Sun Dec 24, 2006 6:44 pm
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Posted: Sun Dec 24, 2006 7:22 pm
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Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 7:31 pm
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Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 7:32 pm
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Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 7:33 pm
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Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 7:34 pm
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Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 7:34 pm
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Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 8:00 pm
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Posted: Tue Mar 27, 2007 12:27 pm
YOU CAN POST CRITS AND COMMENTS AND WHAT NOW domokun heart
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Posted: Wed Mar 28, 2007 1:41 am
yay, we can post! din's quest? yummy. I love how... er, 'lively' and ah, 'colourful' Zahur's personality can be. XD The story was extremely cute and fun to read~ good luck and I hope to see more of him(?) in the future!
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