|
Post by Skulls And Pie on Jun 13, 2007 20:58:04 GMT -5
Yorick stood at the Ghost Shipyard. He had observed here many times on his... "travels" from home. He leaned against a pole, shivering, for it was very cold, and looked up. The rain was falling, smearing his eyeliner, soaking his Elizabethan clothing, getting in his WW:III boots. His black hair drooped over his face, the red tips going just below his eyebrows. He felt the rain soaking his black, skull patterned sleeves and his blood red vest. All he had with him was a backpack with his clothing, books, etc. in it, his staff, and his sword. He took his robe out of the pack and put it on. The spider silk warmed him, slightly, and he put the hood on. He stood. And stood. "I'm the son of rage and love..." he sang, between a murmur and a hum. The rest of the lyrics started going through his head. He then whispered, as he pondered his future, "There's nothing wrong with me; this is how I'm supposed to be."
|
|
|
Post by Ladd Russo of the Russo Family on Jun 15, 2007 21:37:51 GMT -5
The sky was crying again... she always seemed to be crying over the Ghost Shipyards, and her clammy, sea-fresh breath forever fogged the shores in mist. Her chill failed to phase the young man skipping among the pearly snags of driftwood, as he was warmed with a happiness within. A pearl gray shirt was buttoned securely to just under his neck, and his dark blue pants seemed to only loosely fits, very baggy and stopping two inches short of his ankles. Those ankles and the feet they were connected to were bare. He did so enjoy the feel of chill sand between his toes.
The main thing that kept out the wind and chill was a bathrobe of crimson velour, not belted but draping over his shoulders. The bathrobe, dubbed Randy, had been his first companion after... whatever happened a few days ago, and received much love from its sunny wearer.
Though he couldn't have been older than twenty, the person was Yorick's Master Teacher, and he continued his unconcerned gait over to his student. The rain had done little to dampen his pale brown hair, which was about pinky finger long and sticking up in all directions, except for his bangs, which were swept to one side and almost reached his shoulder in length. It left the curious impression that the teacher had somehow lost a fight with a lawnmower.
"Hiya!" the teacher exclaimed.
|
|
|
Post by Skulls And Pie on Jun 15, 2007 22:38:22 GMT -5
"Hello sir," said Yorick, his thoughts trailing off. He looked over the man once or twice and determined that he was not a threat, somewhat like a dog around a stranger. What an... "interesting" appearance, he thought, Although, he must be thinking the same about me. "I take it you're from Twilight Moon," he said, to interrupt the awkward silence that had sunk in. Uneasily, he lifted his hand straightened out his sleeve. So much for a good first impression. He glanced down to notice his World War III boot was unbuckled. "Excuse me," he murmured, awkwardly, as he knelt down to buckle it. Oh, doy. "Excuse me. I'm Yorick Umbra," he said to the man, offering his hand for a handshake.
|
|
|
Post by Ladd Russo of the Russo Family on Jun 15, 2007 22:52:41 GMT -5
"You can call me Friend," the young man smiled, his large, pale, moon-gray eyes shining. He took Yorick's hand and shook it earnestly, though obviously not used to the gesture, as he moved his hand horizontally back and forth. He then proceeded to circle slowly around his student with a small frown, as if searching him for something. "I know that the Headmaster said that none of the students would be afflicted... but..." Friend's face took on a scared, vulnerable air, like a dog that's used to being kicked.
"You aren't one of them, are you?"
|
|
|
Post by Skulls And Pie on Jun 15, 2007 23:00:45 GMT -5
Yorick raised an eyebrow, although it was not visible under his black hair, and let go of the man's hand. "Um..." he stammered, "Afflicted with what?" He immedeately thought of the bubonic plague. Naw, that's way ancient to be worried about now. He raised his hand to his mouth and touched his fangs with his fingers, hoping that had nothing to do with this man's... odd behavior. Yorick stood in silence. He can't be for real, can he? He yawned and quickly covered his mouth to hide his fangs. Although he found them cool, he still was a bit embarrassed of them. A raindrop landed right on his hood.
|
|
|
Post by Ladd Russo of the Russo Family on Jun 16, 2007 11:36:04 GMT -5
Friend shook his head as if dismissing it, going back into his serene self as smoothly as silk. Mood swings. They happened. He noticed that his student was very... black... and red. With some alarm it came to Friend's notice that he was even bleeding black from the eyes. He knew he had read about people bleeding black before somewhere, but why rain would make the eyes bleed was beyond him.
"Why are your eyes bleeding?" he asked, the logical question. "We should probably get to the school before it gets any worse." As Friend started to walk, he felt a painful pinprick on his foot; a sharp shell had assaulted it. He checked it, happy at the good luck, and saw that his blood was indeed red, not black. Sometimes, when the world was so odd, you had to wonder if you were really the normal one, after all.
|
|
|
Post by Skulls And Pie on Jun 16, 2007 12:01:54 GMT -5
Yorick looked at "Friend", puzzeled. He wiped off some of the "black blood" from his face. "Oh, that? That's just eyeliner. It's a kind of make-up," he said reassuringly, "The rain must've smeared it." He reached into his pocket and wiped it off with a tissue, then returned it to his pocket. "I'm sorry for the scare," he continued, "I didn't know it would alarm anyone." Feeling how soaked he was getting, Yorick took his hood off and wrung his hair out. "Boy, it is wet today, isn't it?" he asked, trying to start some conversation. He wrung his hood out, too, and put it back on, although it didn't do much good. He stepped down to follow "Friend" and felt water sloshing around in his boots. He frowned, frustratedly, as his socks got soaked, as well as his feet.
|
|
|
Post by Ladd Russo of the Russo Family on Jun 17, 2007 21:35:58 GMT -5
"I love the rain... but don't you think it's unusual that so many people are bothered by getting their skin wet? People are very wet on the inside after all, and it doesn't seem to bother them then," Friend observed, pondering the oddness of people.
A small rowboat was bobbing aside a dock that seemed a bit thrifty in the 'security' area, and the teacher hopped into it, awaiting his student.
|
|
|
Post by Skulls And Pie on Jun 18, 2007 19:38:52 GMT -5
Yorick put one foot in the boat. He then tried to get the rest of him in, but slipped. As he fell, his hood fell off and a drop of water dropped right in the center of his head. He began to crack up. As he got up, he looked at his rear end and it was soaked. As his laughter died down, he got the hiccups. "Darnit!!" he exclaimed. He hated getting the hiccups.
|
|
|
Post by Ladd Russo of the Russo Family on Jun 18, 2007 21:06:53 GMT -5
"Will you share your wetness with me?" Friend asked, like it was a great treat. Without waiting for an answer, he huggled his student in a warm (or should we say cold and wet) little bear hug. Then he sat up straight and tapped the boat, which obediently glided out, quite fast among the great lake's surges.
"Oh, classes," the teacher gasped, his eyes still dreamy and out there. "You have to choose from each group: Music, History, or Potionry. Holy, Flare, and Summoning. Dragoon, Samurai, or Thievery. Finally, Puppetmaster or Survival." Glad to be getting somewhere, Friend was more than content, like a child at the fair... a very rainy, undead creatures in the water kind of gray fair.
|
|
|
Post by Skulls And Pie on Jun 18, 2007 21:17:14 GMT -5
Yorick chuckled as the hug parted. Hugs and accidents always did do that. His ears perked up when he heard Puppetmaster. "Whoa. 'Puppetmaster'? That sounds rockin' awesome!" he said in awe. Yorick jerked at the sleeve of his robe, which had become wrinkled. "Um... 'Friend'," he started, uneasily, "Do most of the students at Twilight know magic? Because I'm really new to this stuff." He sighed, thinking of old memories. "Come on," his friend had said, "It'll barely hurt. You won't even notice it." Yorick rubbed the scar from the teeth. Why me? he asked the sky wordlessly, Why me? For his friend's problems, Yorick had to deal with the pain, the suffering, and the teasing. He had to leave his family. With friends like you, who needs 'em? ...I'm leavin' you far behind. I'm leaving you far behind, he sang in his head. He then sang, barely more than a whisper or a murmur, "I'm leavin' you far behind."
|
|
|
Post by Ladd Russo of the Russo Family on Jun 18, 2007 21:35:24 GMT -5
"Many students here do not do magic at all. There are many different skills, after all. Just like flavors of pie," said Friend. "But if you're going to leave me far behind, I advise you wait until we make it to land. Underwater zombies, you know?" Friend nodded seriously. "You've chosen Puppetmaster then? What about the other groups?"
|
|
|
Post by Skulls And Pie on Jun 18, 2007 21:40:22 GMT -5
Yorick had zoned out. "Huh?" he started back into the real world. "Oh, sorry. Thinking about the past," he finished, rubbing his scar again. "Um... Potionry, Summoning, and Theivery." Yorick blinked his eyes as they got back into focus. He sighed.
|
|
|
Post by Ladd Russo of the Russo Family on Jun 18, 2007 22:10:41 GMT -5
"We're one third not there," he told Yorick hopefully, but his face fell at his student's obvious depression. Friend was almost a mirror when it came to emotions, either the exact same as anyone around him or the exact opposite. "Why are you sad? I could make it better...?" he asked, his eyes welling up with tears. Mood swings were frequent.
|
|
|
Post by Skulls And Pie on Jun 18, 2007 22:25:53 GMT -5
"No. No one can," he said. Yorick lifted his knees so his chin could rest on them. He looked into the water as the raindrops fell in it. He looked at "Friend's" eyes as he almost cried. "Look not so sad," he said, almost quoting Lady Macbeth, "It's fine. I'm just too," he broke off and took of his hood. "Pensive," he finished.
|
|