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Post by Kullervo Lyden on Jun 24, 2009 22:36:20 GMT -5
With a groan, Kullervo Lyden stepped out of the stagecoach he had been stuck in for the past two days. The interior was comfortable enough. But someone could only take so much of the endless up and down jostling the 'pleasantly winding' country roads provided.
Aching joints aside, Vero had finally reached Revelin's. Turning around, he accepted the bag containing his things from the coachman, and after a brief conversation including Vero's thanks and hopes to give the coachman's family his regards, the young member of the Lyden family was left standing alone outside the great stone building.
'Well not really alone.' He thought as he passed though the entrance hall and ascended the staircase en route to his room. The white-to-blue-to-black egg sat securely nestled in the crook of his arm, and a smile crept across Vero's face when he looked glanced down at the beautiful surface.
A moment later, the egg lay sparkling in the candlelight on the table next to the bed Vero assumed would be his. Judging by the state of the large room, apparently he would have some roommates. In fact, over there, resting against the wall was a parcel with someone else's belongings. For a moment Vero debated taking his egg with him, not sure if it would be a good idea to leave it in the room where some unknown person could mess with it. But then, after slipping off his dirty traveling clothes and into his sand-colored silk dress tunic, he realized that all the people here were in training to become Guardians, an no one in their right mind would think of doing anything that could lessen their numbers. And taking the egg down to the ball could just endanger him/her more.
"I definitely got that right..." Vero murmured to himself after looking out across the veritable sea of bodies in the ballroom. There, many forms could be dancing, although a closer look revealed them most all of them to be adults. Teachers perhaps. Deftly weaving his way through the swirling figures, the young man made his way to the other side, remarkably avoiding any collisions. The maze of adults parted, and Vero found himself near a table heaped with delectable food. However, having eaten in the carriage, he felt no great need to sample any of the victuals, opting instead to attempt to make friends with his Guardians-to-be. He moved past the larger group, and instead walked up to a pair conversing just beyond the others. A boy with striking grey hair, and a girl with blond. He waited a moment for the two to finish their current conversation (interrupting is rude) before extending his hand with a smile.
"Hi there, I'm Vero."
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Post by Mitchel Greath on Jun 24, 2009 22:56:48 GMT -5
"Nice to meet you Jengo," Mitchel replied. Must not be a social person He thought as his newfound companion glanced over the crowds as soon as he introduced himself. Apparently, Mitch found the wrong person to try and chat with again. Maybe he should try and make conversation. "What room are you in?" He asked, hoping to start a conversation of some sort. "I am in room 093." He smiled, remembering how other belongings were already in his room. Maybe, by some awkward chance, this Jengo fella was in the same room.
"Crowds aren't that bad." Mitchel replied to Jengo's comment. "Really, as long as it's not overly loud like it is now." He laughed nervously. "But some people always want to listen. Like me." He said, pointing to himself with both full hands. When Jengo continued to look for more food, Mitch gave out a muffled sigh. Is all this man wanted to do is eat? "Well, food is important, but you need other things too." He pointed out, maybe coming off as a little annoying, although not trying to. "Like water. But everything else pretty much is extra," he agreed.
As far as looks went, this Jengo fella wasn't that bad. Mitchel eyed him down for a quick second, but pulled up his face just as fast as it went down. This man probably didn't swing the same way. Still though, Mitch couldn't help but to think...
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Post by Taron Veritas on Jun 25, 2009 10:34:00 GMT -5
Taron gazed down at her softly. Finally, I woman that won't rip your head off for accidentally touching them. Perhaps his past with women was not always so kind or calm.
The rogue smiled, showing his pearly teeth in what looked like a charming grin. "Never been in a place like this, for sure." Nope, of course not, since he had never been in a place nicer than an old pub. "But, I guess that isn't saying much. You'd have to be near royal to get in a place like this normally. It's amazing what possibilities those eggs opened for us."
Just has he had mentioned his egg, he felt a tight pain and jerked around. Someone had been touching his egg! A low growl emitted from his deep throat, only slightly, but soon ceased. The egg nearly gave the man frost bite from touch. Served the person right. Because of this, he turned his back again, feeling the egg could take care of itself.
Upon facing the girl again, a look of guilt washed over his face. "I did not mean to turn shoulder on you..." pausing a moment, he then dipped his head politely, returning to the smile he had before, "the name is Taron Veritas. I go by both names; your choice." After his introduction, he looked to her in wait for her name.
Her words of her parents talking of this place as a prison lingered in his head. They hadn't seen what the classes were like, and in that case, he would not judge the book by its cover. Taron knew better than to do that again.
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Post by Edana Hawkins on Jun 25, 2009 13:45:05 GMT -5
Edana smiled. " Yeah, I couldn't believe it when I arrived.", she answered,shaking the girl's outstretched hand and gazing around . Her attention was drawn to the food, spread out across. Hungry, she snatched up a piece of bread and devoured it slowly, careful not to make a mess. She didn't want to look like a pig. She grabbed a napkin to catch the crumbs
Edana swiftly moved her hair out of her face, unable to see. She felt much more relaxed after managing to talk with someone. Her eyes darted from person to person, intrigued by the fact that everyone seemed to be drifting toward the food table,some not even noticing.
Edana felt much better after having that piece of bread, able to concentrate better. She leaned against the table, wanting to get out of this dress. I'm so noticeable, she thought as she saw some people overwhelmed by her bright dress.
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Post by Kindauro DeLaTerra on Jun 25, 2009 20:33:47 GMT -5
As he was leaving the food table Kindauro's attention was caught when he heard one of the guys in a nearby conversation mention that they were in room 93, so a room mate. he walked over to the conversation and introduced himself "Hello I didn't mean to ease drop but did one of you say you were in room 93 thats the room i'm in the names Kindauro ,Kindauro DeLaTerra."
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Post by Marin Axelle on Jun 25, 2009 22:54:26 GMT -5
Marin smiled again. "Marin Axelle; nice to meet you, Taron." Referring to him as 'Veritas' sounded impersonal; given the choice, she'd rather call him by his name, not his father's.
He was a good looking boy, she thought idly. Yes; the eggs had given her, them all, unprecedented possibilities. She was about to comment on the number of new students when, suddenly, there was a hand to her left.
Glancing over, she noted a boy with mousy brown hair and brilliant blue eyes; he introduced himself politely and, blinking, Marin shook his hand.
"Marin Axelle," she had the odd feeling of deja-vu. "Nice to meet you." She came close to to introducing Taron, as well, but that felt rude, and she instead merely smiled.
(oh, my gosh. I am so sorry. NO muse right now for her. At all. dead. kaputtt.)
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Post by Taron Veritas on Jun 26, 2009 4:18:30 GMT -5
Marin Axelle, he repeated in his mind, committing the name to memory easily. It would be easy to remember a face like hers - gorgeous shape with stunning eyes. Not to mention that her name fit her so well, it was as if her parents knew exactly what the infant would bloom to be.
"Happy to make your acquaintance, Marin," he began to nod in mutual respect, but was interupted by the sight of a brunette male.
"Vero," was all he caught, jerking his head up to straight level, feeling a smile strike the corners of his lips. In Latin, Vero and his last name were very close in meaning. Vero meant In Truth, while Veritas simply meant Truth. The scholar of a rogue took an instant liking to the other boy, foolishly for a strange sense of common-grounds. After all, with the others, he had nothing in common from what he could see, which meant that yes, even a title was enough to give him hope that he would not be confined to the Library on his own, appearing mute to the rest.
Not meaning to be rude, but while Marin spoke, he stole a glance over his shoulder. The egg sat idle, still untouched after the other person had foolishly tried to pick it up and nearly got frostbite in the process. Taron did not doubt that the guardian could defend itself, even if through a shell, but he still had the protective instincts since the egg was all he really had.
Marin had finished speaking by the time he turned back. "Veritas. Taron Veritas," he said, pausing before continuing after only a moment's thought, "Room 120." This was both a statement and way of asking the boy if they were roommates.
Finishing it all off with a grin, he opened up, deciding it was the only way to possibly befriend people around here. "Pleasure to meet the both of you..." His gaze trailed to the food again before flicking it back to the two before him. A rumble in his stomach told him he was hungry, but young Veritas ignored it, as always.
[[[Sorry.. I posted.. but it.. didn't post? And this new post has been completed at 4:18 in the morning. UGH sleepy time.]]]
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Post by Kullervo Lyden on Jun 26, 2009 11:33:30 GMT -5
"Likewise, it's nice to meet you both." A wide grin had spread across the boy's tanned features. The girl with blond hair and eyes the color of a storm seemed nice enough... if a tad bit out of it. Vero found it rather hard to believe that his appearance was one to cause any shock, so why else did she seem slightly thrown when he had introduced himself? Odd, but nothing too worrisome.
As for the other boy, he seemed easy enough to like. The mere mention of Vero's name brought a smile to his lips. Though after a moment while Marin chatted to both of them, Vero caught a distant almost... mournful, feeling from him. For a few moments he chatted with Marin, very much truly interested in what she was saying, but watching the silver haired boy out the corner of his eye.
Something's definitely not all good with him... Vero thought. And that air of sadness.... this isn't recent. I don't know if there's any chance of me being able to help... but I have to try. But how? Just as his inner monologue was struggling with this problem, the boy turned his attention back to the two of them and spoke.
"Veritas. Taron Veritas, Room 120."
"Room 120.." Vero's face twisted for a moment in thought. What had been the plaque next to his room? The directions had, oddly not said. Instead it had provided him with a map to his room, and pictures describing what was going on. Though, that was probably due to the location of his hometown. It was true, that most people in Bluestone Valley were illiterate, and seeing how Guardians could arise anywhere, the sender of his information must have planned for the worst. However, they must not have been vary familiar with the Lyden family to send Vero non-literate information. But he was getting off topic, the number..... it HAD been 120 hadn't it?!
"Well this certainly is a pleasant surprise." His grin breaking out on his face for more than one reason.
"It seems that we'll be roommates Taron."
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Post by CherNOBYL Rivets on Jun 28, 2009 7:06:53 GMT -5
Of course nobody had noticed Chernobyl. She honestly preferred it that way, how she could blend in and hide from the people who watched out for folk who were breaking rules. Unlike her sister, Nobyl preferred to be unnoticed, a lurking thing that hid behind what they might see. She didn't want to make friends, and she had so far pretended to be mute to the people who tried to talk to her.
She had earlier deposited her stuff in her room and taken her egg with her, it was not hidden all that well, but it was there. She held it tight, but it tended to hide itself. No light reflected off of it's darkness, and that was what it was; darkness. Pure black, inpenitreble by human eyes and causing distress when it came to it as well.
Her parents had been afraid of the egg, Shank had ignored it, and Chernobyl found solace in it. She scanned the room from her vintage point in the shadows, and saw her sister mingling quite well. Nobyl felt no jealousy. It was how things went.
To sum it up, Chernobyl just didn't care.
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Post by Surka Rovesdottar on Jun 28, 2009 8:44:50 GMT -5
Surka had not enjoyed her trip, which was mostly taken in the back of a badly-sprung wagon, sitting next to her decade-and-a-half-older brother, who watched her carefully. Never before had she been the object of such an intense gaze. Well, half of a gaze- his attention was also divided by the so-called egg that sat beside her. She had touched it once skin-to-shell, but had kept a distance from it. Her family had had no right to just send her off, with hardly a goodbye or good-luck story! On the second day of travel, a storm had blown up, and, huddled wetly under the stinking tarp their gracious driver had erected, a feeling of loathing seeded itself in her heart. She could feel the thing trying to reach out to her, dimly, exuding curiosity and hope, but all she could think of was how it had caused her to become a traveler, a guardian-to-be, someone she didn’t know.
They arrived at the place six days later, weary and aching from the long journey. They arrived a little before night fell.
Naton placed a kiss on his little sister’s scalp and gave her a squeeze about the shoulders. “Oi’ll coom ba’ e’ry Mi’soommair an’ Mi’wintair t’see hoaw yoo git on. Or Navar or Saxom’ll. But, if yoo need us, send a m’ssnger.” He placed a large, heavy coin in her hand. “We’ll coom, be et Planting or Harvesting,” he said, naming the two most important days on the farmer’s calendar.
She didn’t have to say how glad she was to hear those words. She just leaned on her brother and tried not to cry.
He let her, and when she straightened, he said, “Oi hope you’ll enjoy yersel’. Oi love yoo, and doant forgit et.” Her oldest brother gave her shoulders a last squeeze and was gone, leaving her alone at the gates of the school, her belongings on her back and the egg hanging from one arm in its own pack.
She didn’t turn to watch him go. She didn’t burst into tears. She didn’t run after him and tell him to take her home.
What she did do was adjust her backpack, square her shoulders, and walk through gates, a proud daughter of Rove, who was the son of Sathon.
There was a gate-house, and she knocked on the door of that. She identified herself, and the gatekeeper gave her instruction to get to her assigned room. As she walked there, she repeated the instruction to herself, and the number, one-s'venteen, over and over. Though she could not read, if she lost her way she could ask directions if she knew her room.
In addition to directions, the gatekeep’ had said that there was a welcoming ball for all the new students. She was uninterested in the ball (she’d heard about them in story-tales), but she figured that she better not skulk around until lessons began- she might as well face it head-on.
So she washed and dressed in the one good kirtle she owned, a red one with swallowtail sleeves and yellow-and-gold embroidery about the neckline, with a good linen undergown. Her mother had told her, as she sewed it for her daughter’s fourteenth Harvest-day, when she would be acknowledged as a woman, that Surka could be expected to be married in it. She had danced with a good neighbor’s boy during Harvest-celebration that year, feeling beautiful with the sleeves and the unfaded cloth, but the dance had come to nothing more. She donned her stockings, which had been white but dyed yellow to disguise their age, and the small, soft black shoes that transformed her farmer-feet into delicate little lady’s-feet.
Sitting on her bed, she surveyed the cloth-wrapped bundle that was her egg, wondering what to do with it. As if it sensed her thoughts, the thing reached out to her. Suddenly angry, she took it up by its coverings and nearly threw it in the lowest drawer of her dresser. It barely fit.
Surka left the room at a run, as if speed would alleviate her writhing, tortuous emotions. She eard someone coming down the hall and slowed, suddenly self-conscious and shy. But she met the newcomer’s eyes brazenly, because while it would have been more comfortable to lower her eyes and pretend she was a servant, she would have been furious with herself if she had.
The girl she passed was red-headed with eyes of a strange color, nearly orange or yellow. The egg she carried was red and gold, as was her hair. She was very thin, to Surka’s eye, and it looked like the egg she carried would snap her in half with its weight. The was a moment of connection, the same as with any stranger on the street that you stared down, and then their footsteps carried each person out of view. Surka didn’t turn around. She flushed, realizing that she never would have done anything so strange and brazen at home.
This place was changing her- she didn’t like it.
She followed a general flow of people into the Great Hall and slipped in as a voice began to speak. She schooled herself; refused to jump at the sudden noise. Keeping her eyes nowhere in particular, she half-listened to the man speak. When he was done, she breathed again, realizing that she had been holding her breath, and smelled the aroma of the banquet table. Almost all the journey-houses were she and Naton had stayed had put meat in every single one of their courses. Inside of a dignified meal of carrots, potatoes and turnips, it was all of the above, with a stinking lump of beef or chicken or pork on it and a flood of gravy soaking the fine vegetables. She and Naton had done their best to separate the vegetables from the meat, but in the end that had eaten little else but the bread. She had been sick twice, though she had tried to be discreet about it.
It was eagerly, then, that she turned to the banquet table. As she neared it, she looked over the occupants. There were boys and girls and a few adults on the far end. One girl caught her eye; she was half-shaved, with a feather behind her ear. Had she been a slave? She heard that in the Darklands there were slaves, and that they were shaved to show their low status. Surka puzzled over it, ad then turned her gaze to the shaved (slave?)- girl’s companion.
It was like have all your siblings in wool socks shuffle across the rug and touch you. It was like the first and last time she had touched her egg. And somehow, it wasn’t like any of those things. Transfixed, all she could do was stare. The girl was thin (was that a common theme around here?) and tough-looking. Her was blonde, and her eyes were a light color that Surka couldn’t identify from that distance. The girl’s body language was different from anything she had seen before. She couldn’t tell what it was, exactly, but it was different. Her heart raced.
The girl, coincidentally, looked her way.
Surka snapped out of her paralysis. Jerkily, she made for the table, angling as far away from the blond girl as possible. Heat rose in her face, and her mind was racing. She surveyed the table, dismayed to find meat practically everywhere. Cautiously, for the episode had not dulled her hunger, she picked up a hunk of cheese and munched it, schooling herself to not shove it into her face and be a snorter. A mix of anger and disappointment clutched at her heart as she eyed dish after dish of (not doubt beautifully cooked) meat. Was the whole land barbaric? Was her region the only sane one?
She didn’t know. Her sense of alienation grew with each bite and each second passed.
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Post by Kallyse Tinebrook on Jun 28, 2009 10:55:46 GMT -5
She had spent the last three days in comfort, even if they were dreadfully long. Her handmaiden, Shiroki, had learned five different card games and had brought along her little shogi board. This had diverting for a few days, but then Kallyse had stopped moving her cards and pieces to just look out the carriage’s windows at the countryside rolling past. Even on pitted and rutted country roads (they had to take a few) the carriage’s beautifully-sprung compartment hardly jostled at all. The three women (Kallyse, Shiroki, and Annah, Kallyse’s secondmaiden) could drink their cold tea without any fear at all. The sky had turned dark, and the rain began pouring down. A draft developed in the carriage, though no rain got in, and the ladies gathered their cloaks and shawls around them. Kallyse unconsciously held the egg closer to herself, protecting it from the cold.
Kallyse glanced at the streaming window and the scenery outside obscured to gray blurs, sighed and ordered Shiroki to tell a story from her homeland. The black-haired woman obliged, launching into the tale of The Robe of Celestial Feathers, wherein Lady Kaguya, a gift-child from the moon to a childless old couple, was courted by three royal men; an official, a prince, and an Emperor, because her beauty was so great. Reluctant to marry, she charged each man with an impossible task. The first two both failed, but the third, the Emperor, succeeded and arranged a royal hunt that would coincidentally take him close to the Lady Kaguya’s home. On the day of the hunt, he entered her home, and beheld a great light in the humble dwelling. At the center of the light was no other but the Lady Kaguya. The emperor advanced and touched the lady’s sleeve, and she hid her face. But she was too slow to hide her beauty, for he had caught a glimpse. He ordered a litter for her to be brought, that she could be borne to the palace, but she protested and turned herself invisible. Perceiving that he was dealing with no mortal maid, he begged her to resume her form, and he sadly left her in her home. Three years after the hunt, in the spring time, the Lady Kaguya was seen to be continually gazing at the moon. On the seventh month, she became so sorrowful that her weeping distressed all around her. Her father came to speak with her, and she explained that she was no ordinary mortal, but that her birth place was in the Royal City of Moonland, and that the time of her stay on earth was nearing its close and she would soon return to her homeland. The emperor got wind of this news and vowed to keep the Lady Kaguya on earth. He gathered a great army and on the night when she was to leave, he placed archers and guards and spearmen all around her house. The People in the Moon descended, and the Emperor was so struck by their beauty and grace that he could not utter a single sound. The Moon-People summoned Lady Kaguya three times, whereupon she sadly departed, leaving a farewell scroll for both her human parents and the Emperor, expressing her love for them and the fact that she left against her will. The Moon People welcomed Kaguya into their arms and gave her a draught of immortality “to purify her body which was so heavy and burdened by living amongst mortals” and the Celestial Robe of Feather, which she wore to bring her back up with the Moon People.
Long after the story was done, Kallyse sat quietly, thinking on the legend and holding her egg tightly to herself. The storm cleared a day later, and the world was washed clean when they rolled into the town near Revelin. Kallyse ordered a stop, to stretch their legs and buy a few things before heading on. The buying took the rest of the afternoon, but Kallyse was certain that she had everything that she needed. The coachmen, guard, and footmen all shook their heads- but they were men, and really couldn’t be expected to understand the fine nuances of high shopping.
The sky was darkening as they drove up to the school’s gates. Dressed elegantly in a subdued-blue traveling gown, flanked by her two maidens and followed by three luggage-toting men, Kallyse strode up to the gatehouse. “Kallyse Tinebrook, that’s with a little stress on the S-E, ‘suh,’ new student.” She smiled brightly to accompany the introduction. He told her the room number, and the news of a ball. Then, pausing, gatekeeper looked the three women over. “Who’re they?” He nodded at the other two.
“They are my maids, Shiroki and Annah.” Each bobbed once as she was named. The gatekeeper grunted. “Personal servants aren’t allowed.”
She blinked, smile slightly frozen. “Excuse me? Did you say something?” He was unaffected by the pretty blinks or subtle jibe. “Personal servants,” he repeated, speaking slowly and clearly, “aren’t allowed. We’ve got plenty of staff here already and the School feels that the keeping of personal servants is an unnecessary divide between students of different financial status.” His tone suspiciously indicated that he was reading from a book.
Kallyse blinked again. Then it dawned: “There are poor people here?” She had had the vague feeling that this was to be a finishing school. She’d been expecting perhaps for one or two of her friends to join her here.
“And a few people of more noble stock.” He said noble stock the way some people said scumbag or street rat. “A young chap- Kullervo Lyden-” here she knew he was reading from a list, “came in through her not to long ago. Came in in a carriage like yours. Wears silk,” he added, as if that explained everything.
She took a breath, and leaned forward to the gate-house window, which was screened with carved wood. “Good sir, I know that the rules say no servants, but could I please just go in with them so we can carry in my things and have a last goodbye?” On the last phrase, she tilted her face toward the light, put a tiny quiver in her voice and got a little misty-eyed. “We were not expecting to part so suddenly.” She didn’t sniffle. She didn’t need to.
There was a pause. “Fine.” The gatekeeper growled. “But they can’t stay.”
“Oh, thank you sir!” She gave him another beautiful smile and embraced her maidens. “Let’s be off to our- my rooms.”
Kallyse was dismayed to find how small and spare the room was, especially when she discovered that there was another bed with someone else’s belongings on it. In fact, there not one, not two, but four beds in this room. It dawned on her, the second unpleasant revelation of the day, that she would be sharing a room. She had always slept alone; a servant had always slept in a side-room. But now….
She considered the situation. Like a king alone on the shogi board, she was outnumbered. But she would be able to coax at least one girl to her side (she could not imagine that there might be boys sharing a room with young ladies), and then it would be equal. After that, it would be only a matter of time before she brought another under her wing, and then a lone girl would be outnumbered in the four-person room.
She ruminated more as her maids dressed her as they always did, though Annah was nearly in tears that she was leaving her lady. Shiroki was more stoic, but she always had been. When the two women had finally arranged all of Kallyse’s personal belongings and straightened the last hem, they turned to go. But Shiroki lingered. Her sweet, flat, golden face was solemn as ever as she pressed her shogi board into Kallyse’s hand. “I give you this board, which my mother gave to me. I know you would miss it otherwise.” Her dark eyes lowered. “You are a very fine player, and I know that you will soon have many friends to play with.”
“Shiroki-” Kallyse held out her hand, as if to put her arm around the Spicelander, but Shiroki modestly took her lady’s pale hand and kissed it.
“I wish you the best of fortunes, my lady.” She bowed low and exited the room, shuffling backwards so as to not turn her back on Kallyse.
The door closed, and Kallyse was alone.
She stood silent for a long time, and then turned to her egg. It was wrapped snugly in a nest of blankets and cloaks on her bed. Kallyse sat down next to it, stroking its smooth service and laying the shogi board on the bedside table. Though the egg was not brightly colored, she loved it still and thought that it would, being full of natural colors, complement anything she wore as she stood next to it. Her mind drifted, and wondered what was in that shell. They told that no-one could tell by the outside. She knew little about the Guardians, but she thought that maybe a pegasus, more noble than any mere horse, might be a good companion to her. She’d always liked horses. Then she thought that the dragon, the symbol of her great-uncle’s Emperory, might be a good match, with its sinuous lengths and fierce strength. It resonated with her Spiceland roots. Then again, the phoenix was the symbol of royal women to the Spicelanders, and she couldn’t deny that. That left the gryffin- the closest she could justify that was her father’s emblem, which was a lion rampant. That wasn’t close enough.
But then, she realized, she would love the creature that appeared to her no matter what. The soft chime of her personal clock- it had been made by the finest clocker worker this side of the Wall- brought her back to reality. She gave the shell one last stroke, whispered a soft nonsense to it, and left in a rustle of expensive cloth.
It appeared that she was late, and a servant informed her of what the headmaster had said. She was sorry to have missed it, but didn’t let that keep her spirits low.
She entered slowly, gazing at the people around her. Immediately, some of the adult men caught notice, but she ignored most of them and gave a regal smile to all occupants. She walked as a queen would, back straight, shoulders relaxed, her step soft on the stone floor.
Certainly she looked like a queen, as her maidens had assured. She was dressed in the latest fashion; a full gown of cream silk, with gold silk panels and embroidery. Golden topazes gleamed from hems and her bodice, and her corset was laced to show her admirably small waist. Her hair was modestly covered with a gold-net veil sewn with topaz at the intersections, and a silver tiara fore fronted a tastefully large sapphire, accompanied by the ever-present topaz. A matching necklace glittered on her neck and breast. Rings of all colors adorned her fingers, showing off her many connections with royalty and wealth.
She surveyed the children she realized were students, picking out a few that she could pursue. One, in particular, was a dark-tanned, muscular young woman in a red kirtle, whose unhappiness pervaded the air even from across the room. Making niceties with the other guests, Kallyse wound her way toward the unhappy girl.
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Post by Ukon Deville on Jun 28, 2009 14:21:05 GMT -5
When another walked up, Ukon found her fleeting interest in the conversation going away and she found the urge to yawn irresistable. She turned her head and looked across the room and met the eyes of a muscular girl. For a moment they stared at eachother and Ukon halted midmotion, then the other looked away. Ukon turned as well, a slightly confused look on her face as she stared at the ground, one hand on her egg. "What...?What was...that?" She mumbled, fidgeting with a small grape. It was obvious that Ukon, for all her savvy, was more than a little shocked by what had happened. Some kind of...connection.
She shook her head and glanced across the room. "'Scuse me..." she mumbled, moving across the room towards the muscular girl while holding her egg tight. She inhaled sharply and suddenly stopped, now finding herself faced with both the girl and a lady who looked like a queen; Ukon froze, unsure what to do in such company. She utterly drew a blank, and then stammered "H-h-hey." Of course, the girl's real reason for being here stood next to her, and Ukon had subtly leaned over while putting her egg down so they touched arms for just a split instant. It would seem like an accident to her, unless they both felt the same connection.
She nodded and grinned at the muscular girl and took a step back so she did not have to move to see them both. "Hello, there. My name's Ukon. 'Tis an honor to meet'cha both." Of course, she was speaking more to the muscular girl, and the egg of Ukon's that sat with it's green spots and rat insignia on the table.
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Post by Surka Rovesdottar on Jun 28, 2009 17:36:40 GMT -5
Surka had fought the urge to flee as the blonde girl came near; she found herself edging away from the table, gathering free space in which to move. She managed not to stare as the girl approached, stoically finishing the piece of cheese that held in her hand. All the while, she thinking:
"Surka moi girl, yoo've got no reason t' be sweatin and a-ticker-thumpin and a-shakin loik a grettin pansy! Mebbe it were a flook-"
At that moment, the girl had reached her and gave a shaky greeting (Surka was fairly certain it was a greeting, but she had no idea what hay had to do with any ballroom conversation) and she was just thinking "crazed grettin fore'ners" when the girl leaned over to set her egg on the table and brushed her arm.
It was a shock, another literal shock, and Surka jumped involuntarily. She jerked to meet eyes with the girl, wide-eyed and flushed.
She stepped back (as if that could erase what she had just done to Surka) and smiled, saying "Hello, there. My name's Ukon. 'Tis an honor to meet'cha both."
An honor? Was this Ukon mocking her? Since when was one peasant to another honored by meeting?
And then she realized, Both? Surka mimicked the girl's action and stepped back herself, cursing herself for focusing only on the girl while losing her surroundings. She swore to not let it happen again.
The thing that had escaped her attention was, ironically, the most looked-upon creature in the room. Dressed in cream and gold, sparkling with gems and beautiful manners (Surka could tell, that and she was just standing there), and a most tiny and well-proportioned creature, she was such a classic vision of beauty that Surka suddenly felt like a many-eyed, lumpy potato next to a sheaf of golden wheat, or a molting she-duck sitting beside an elegantly-preened kestrel.
Unable to contain the motion, she bobbed a peasant's curtsy to the golden young woman, the one who looked like a queen. "Oi'm Surka," she said to both. The queenly young woman accepted the bob with a kind smile and a tiny nod, an I-appreciate-the-gesture-but-really-you-didn't-have-to-do-that sort of gesture.
Then she threw a glare at the blonde girl, Ukon and retreated to a far corner of the room. She had realized that what she was feeling was obviously a hate-at-first-sight thing, and she wanted to spend as little time around the confusing, maddening, shocking girl as possible.
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Post by Kallyse Tinebrook on Jun 28, 2009 17:38:09 GMT -5
She reached the lonely girl just as another girl came up. This one, Kallyse saw, was skinny and blonde and had a bright fire in her eyes. When she introduced herself as Ukon, Kallyse gave her a smile and noted her as someone to watch.
Surka, she was pleased to note, gave proper, if a tad clumsy, respect to her. She returned the introduction with a kind smile, knowing that as she did so she was planting the seeds of sympathy in the dark girl's heart.
When she fled, Kallyse turned to Ukon and with the open hands of someone who really wants to stick around but really shouldn't, she said, "My name is Kallyse," she stressed the half-silent last syllabyl of her name, as people tended to leave it out, "Tinebrook. I am charmed to meet you, Ukon, really, but I feel that I must go see if I may comfort Surka. She seems upset." She said the last sentence with complete innocence, but she knew exactly who was causing Surka's distress.
She gave a polite, final nod to Ukon, subtly communicating that it really would be best if Ukon didn't follow. Kallyse turned and followed after Surka, taking up two tall, thin glasses of a pale, bubbly drink from the table as she passed them.
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Post by Estelle "Shank" Devries on Jun 28, 2009 18:06:57 GMT -5
As had her sister, Shank had effortlessly blended in to the surrounding area, but unlike Chernobyl, Shank felt a temptation to join the conversation. Around her, they talked effortlessly, and unlike the others Shank felt terribly akward. She was wearing scruffy clothing simply because she had been to lazy to get anything more dignified on. That was typical for the twitchy kid.
She deliberately trod on Chernobyl's foot as she left the shadows and was rewarded with a small yelp of pain and shock. Quickly Shank saw a girl who looked like some stuck up kid, and took an instant dislike to her, so, just to scorn her she walked by. She then pretended to trip, jostling the girl [Kally] so she might drop the drink. Then the scruffy girl picked herself up and kept walking.
A confused looking kid stared after the departing figure, and Shank offered what consolation she could; flinging her arm around the other's shoulders and saying to her-Ukon-;
"'Salright, promise. Ah, deys prolly stuck-up-like folk enny'ow, who needs 'em, ah? Das wot I say, mate. Stick wi' me an' ye'll never have no prollems wi' folk like 'er, mate, I promises ya."
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