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Post by Mewlie on Jul 29, 2009 19:30:06 GMT -5
The banging awoke the woman with a start - she managed to smack directly into the low-sitting ceiling of her temporary treehouse. Yelping and spewing out a very juicy set of words, the dark-skinned elf rubbed at her forhead, complaining about "immature foliage". Rolling onto her side, the woman curled back into a fetal position, only to be interrupted with the disturbing banging once again.
"Fer the bloomin' leaves off'r Laev's arse!" the Dark Elf's shrieking was cut off as she lost her balance and toppled unceremoniously to a dank and dark place below the tree. Standing up and tutting like a mother hen, the woman named Quinn shoved her hands into her hips and stuck her tongue out.
"Not 'xactly my version of a wakin' up," she grumbled, rummaging in a bundle at her waist for her pigment pastes. Closing her fingers around a smooth leaf frond, Quinn pulled it out and unrolled it, careful not to let the yellow paint inside drip to this foreign earth. Expertly dipping her long fingers into the dye, Quinn traced her eyes carefully, adding a few dots of left-over yellow to her cheeks and neck.
Just as carefully as she unwrapped it, the woman rewrapped the pigment and slid it back into her waist pouch. Leering up into the tree she had been dumped out of, Quinn jumped and swatted at her walking stick, Keen.
"Stop messin' 'round ya bloomin' bugga'," Quinn growled, knowing at once that she wouldn't be able to jump high enough to retrieve Keen. Grumbling again about a "little minx", Quinn settled herself easily on the ground, concentrating to find the right words to charm down her staff. Just as the tune was on her lips, the banging racket started up again.
Flailing her arms in a windmill of frustration, Quinn scrambled up, swinging her arms up to grasp a low-hanging tree branch. She was going to have to do this the hard way, and then go trip the thing that kept making noise. Crawling like a lemur through the tree, Quinn finally retrieved Keen and hopped down, scolding the wood shaft gently.
"Not gunna' do tha' to me no more, ya see? Otherwise I might jus' fergit you one day." Scuttling along the path towards the now continuous noise, Quinn walked for what seemed like hours, before bonking herself in the conk against a tree. Sputtering, the Dark Elf wheeled around, biting her lip. She was hungry, tired, and felt like tripping someone. However, the banging had ceased, and the young woman could see nothing in this hideous fog. Scooting around the tree she had collided with, Quinn took one step before stumbling on a tree root. It seemed as if she had gone from a misty, noisy, and stinking place by water to a misty, quiet, and lethal forest.
"I need a break," she wailed, thunking her head against her staff. |
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Post by Señor Sunday Friday on Jul 29, 2009 22:42:11 GMT -5
"Lossa peopole do if they're 'avin as much a problem as ye seem tah be 'avin." Came an offhanded comment from some undistinguished place in the fog, and a hand reached out. "Take m'and and I'll lead ye tah th'shipyahd. Ye are 'eaded t'Twiligh' Moon, righ?" he asked, barely visible through the fog, he was obviously short, not at all possibly older than five foot, probably shorter and his accent was lighthearted and hinted to an elven kind of being- although he was uncharacteristically short. You could see the blurred color of where he was, a large portion of black and at his shoulders it turned red, then a band of gray, and a bright blue green to top off the whole thing, the final color likely to be his hair from the blurred shape of it through the fog. "Th'name's Terent. Terent Flynn." He said with a sure nod and promptly following was the grackly sound of an animal's croaking "Mwraaaawererereke..." came the croak.
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Post by Mewlie on Jul 30, 2009 13:40:29 GMT -5
Though strangers never scared or made her suspicious, Quinn immediately had the feeling that this little man was not something to be trifled with. Though she sorely wanted to flick him behind the ear and screech some dirty words, the Dark Elf plunked down the feeling and clutched Keen a little harder.
"Eh, was' tha' you say? Wha'da 'bout a shipyard? I'm not 'xactly inter' runnin' off with strang'as." Quinn paused, jutting out her painted face and peering closely through the fog. She almost fell backward when what seemed like an animal call reverberated off the trees and into her ears.
"Bett'r get'cha pet looked at," Quinn sputtered, recovering from the loud shock. "'n how'd you know tha' I was headin' out to Twilight Moon?" |
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Post by Señor Sunday Friday on Jul 30, 2009 14:41:08 GMT -5
"Well If yer Quinn, then I'd be blessed ta tell ye tha' I'll be yer Master Teacher a' Twiligh' Moon." His delightful scots-irish blessed voice rang true with this fact, "An' Smi''y's jus' fine." he nodded before setting off through the fog and unbeknownst toQuinn due to the fog and other outlying factors- he had a bit of a contented smile. Students were always so oddly funny and strange when they first stumble into the Ghost Shipyards.
There was the sound of buzzing wings as a small creature plopped on Quinn's head, a gecko of sorts with the wings of a dragonfly on it's back and it croaked at her, "Mrawerawerkekk!" it exclaimed before licking it's eyeball.
"Tha's Smi''y." the short elf explained as he ventured along the path unseen by eyes but well memorized by the elf as he made his way to where they would get to Twilight Moon. He seemed to have no problems with dark elves, mostly because he'd learned over the years that those you were expected to hold prejedices against were often those you'd find yourself finding the most friendship in. When he was younger, he hadn't expected that a slave of all people would become his very best friend. His life taught him a lot and he held on to that knowledge in his mind very dearly, though he was glad to impart it on others.
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Post by Mewlie on Jul 30, 2009 17:25:44 GMT -5
Leaning on her staff heavily, Quinn was in great disbelief. This brother elf was a peculiar one indeed. Just as his voice started to become vague as he walked off, the female Dark Elf trotted forward, only to squeak as a slithery being made a perch on her head.
Twirling and shaking her head, Quinn finally managed to get a glimpse of the creature named Smi''y. It gave her the heebie-jeebies and the giggles at the same time. Starting up again with the short man (though he wasn't particularily that short to Quinn), the Dark Elf reached a hand to her head.
"Don' be pickin' my braids out, you hear?" Unwilling to touch Smi''y, Quinn kept her hand where she thought the gecko wasn't. "D'ya have to make a perch on top'pa my head? Can'na just sit on Keen?"
After tripping over more than a few unknown things, Quinn huffed, but kept her mouth shut. She didn't want this stranger to think she was a nuisance, not after he knew her name and where she was going. |
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Post by Señor Sunday Friday on Jul 30, 2009 17:43:55 GMT -5
"Smi''y likes si''in on peopole's 'eads... 'e thin's tha' they're warmer, an' i's col' in tha shipyards." He explained, "Smi''y... I don' thin' tha' th'youngin likes i'." he commented through the fog and with another croak the little gecko took flight once more into the air and glided till he landed atop Terent's head, "Welcome back." He laughed, continuing along the path till his feet struck wooden planking. "An' 'ere's th'Shipyards... i's a foggier day thin most, so be careful where ye tread." he spoke to make sure that Quinn was mindful of where she was going, and did not fall into the waters.
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Post by Mewlie on Jul 30, 2009 18:04:06 GMT -5
"What a weird bugga'," Quinn muttered, running her fingers through the tangles that the creature had perched on just seconds before. As soon as her feet felt the harder impact of wood, the Dark Elf crept closer to her unusual guide, her red eyes peering out into the fog. Hearing water, Quinn stepped even closer, gripping Keen in a death hold. Deep, dark water was not this elf's best friend.
"D'ya know where you takin' us?" asked Quinn tentatively. |
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Post by Señor Sunday Friday on Jul 31, 2009 10:32:52 GMT -5
"No' entirely." he spoke honestly, "Though I'm borrowin' a boa' from a frien' o'mine." he explained, "I jus' 'ave tah foind i'." he walked along the shipyards confidently despite the blinding fog, a band of purple painting itself in light into the air and pushing back a bit of the mist in front of him. He continued his walking, the purple band of light would provide enough of a guide for the student, "So wha' is i' tha' ye play?" he asked, making small talk. It was funny because Terent would have thought that Gavin Hales would have made for a better teacher than himself, considering that Gavin was actually a rather talented flutist but apparently Terent's practiced skill at playing a pair of spoons was enough to earn him a bard as a student, which he, himself didn't understand at all. Or perhaps it was the accent thing. Give the student with an accent a teacher with an accent. ha. ha. ha. Very funny, administration.
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Post by Mewlie on Jul 31, 2009 23:17:36 GMT -5
Using Keen more and more for guidance as much as comfort, Quinn was delighted that a magic light had been produced. Though its light was not extensive, it was enough that Quinn didn't feel like she needed to make amends with her life.
Mostly watching her feet, the Dark Elf almost collided with her guide. Quickly skipping backwards with a grin, Quinn cocked her head to the side and scratched at a tangle. This man's accent was almost impossible to understand. And he's a right mutterin' bloke too, Quinn thought absentmindedly, before knocking her ankles together. Wincing, the pain brought her back into reality.
"Whot'cha mean, play? A wee wood stick? Bah!" Scoffing at this, Quinn gave another cheeky grin in the fog. "Naw, Im'ma singa'," she replied. "An' a dern good'un too, for your inf'mation." |
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Post by Señor Sunday Friday on Aug 1, 2009 0:13:01 GMT -5
"Singin'?" The elf asked with slight suprise, "An' ye make money doin' tha', d'ye?" he inquired, "Because qui'e honestley I'd be suprised if any'un understood yer accen', i's rather difficul' t'understan, y'see." he explained, "I's so 'eavy tha' I can barely understan' mos'sof wha' yer sayin, an' oddser tha' I woul'n't understan' ye a' all if ye were singin'." And he was one to talk, pfft!
"Mwearkerkackerwraaawrk..." the gecko dragon croaked and there was the sound of buzzing wings, though the fog it couldn't be seen if the creature took to flight or if it was just excersizing it's wings.
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Post by Mewlie on Aug 1, 2009 21:46:10 GMT -5
Quinn was all proud of telling this stranger that she was a singer, and then he went and started on about her accent. Her accent of all things. Scowling, Quinn had half a mind to kick the old dodger in the rump, and tell him what's for. However, considering the strange feeling he gave off, the Dark Elf didn't want to piss off this particular guide.
Swallowing her pride and smooshing down her urges, Quinn mearly coughed loudly. The sound was drowned out, however, by Smitty's sudden take off. The sound seemed to reverberate off the water, making chills creep up Quinn's back. Shuddering she coughed ever louder.
"Well, if'fer wantin' to hear a gud'din song, you jus' lem'me know, a'right?" Scuffing her boots along the wood, she barely contained the "you stuffy old frump" that was tingling on her lips. Instead, Quinn commented: "Not to be a bother'n all, but'cha mind tellin' us where the bloomin' leaves off'r Laev's arse we're goin'?" Bumbling along after her guide, Quinn bitterly wished she could be sleeping in her tree right about then. This walk was taking forever. |
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Post by Señor Sunday Friday on Aug 1, 2009 22:39:11 GMT -5
"Jus' 'eadin' tah th'boa' tha' I... borrowed from a goo' friend o' mine." he shrugged, walking through the fog, "Ah! There she is!" he exclaimed, the back of the ship, facing the docks had three knotches cut into it and the name was scraped off the wood so that it was no longer identifyable. "This'll be 'ow we'll be ge''in to'Th'Cademy." he said with a nod as he walked uncerimoniously accross a wooden plank and onto the ship. "If ye 'urry up we'll be there in no time!" he explained, and up on the ship the mist was a little less thick and you could make out slight features about his face. Apparently something was covering the lower half of his face, including his nose and mouth, so only his eyes and up were visible. A man in a mask, in general terms wasn't someone to be trusted. "Onward t'Twiligh' Moon?" he asked, his tone incinuating that he was possibly smiling in an excited manner under the mask.
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