Post by Sparkfyre Lyras on Jan 2, 2009 17:39:46 GMT -5
Haven't figured out what I'm doing with this yet; just writing off of the top of my head because bored. As far as I know, it's all original, as well; off the top of one's head does not mean a general basis has not yet been rehearsed, and the wording and actual events are just not set yet.
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Cool winds of winter's day set around assaulting all trapped outside, on some little errand or another; this was always the way of cold days in most cities, and thus, this was no exception. Surrounded on four sides by large, forrested hills, some with snow and some not, making it seem like a brown tapestry spotted with white covered the slopes. Pines were here as well, giving in a dash of green every now and again; birds chirping their little songs could be heard singing their happy little tunes as ther flittered about the town, always seeking a new, dry roost. Going in a circular pattern inwards was this small and somewhat peaceful town; little ever happened here, andm ost houses made of stone would have given the look of being just large formations of rock amidst a two-foot snowdrift, had it not been for the smoke of the chimneys, and for the little figures seen moving about the town of those who needed to be out this cold day.
One young body in particular was a light-skined child named Killer, for some odd reason or another; his skin tone was scarcely different than that of the snow, but his lips were more red than cherries and his eyes a brilliant shade of purple; his black hair, cut short to his skull, lay wet and hanging about his head, for he wore no hat. Rather, he had forsaken it, believing his atire to be enough; he wore brown hiking boots and blue jeans always when outside; everyday he wore a t-shirt and another flannel jacket besides, just a small second layer; this day he also wore a warm blue jacket and black gloves besides, with a black backpack upon his shoulder as he hauled forth himself back from the library to his own homestead.
He stopped and paused to lean against a resteraunt building for a moment and sighed heavily, his breath coming out like smoke from a dragon's mouth. He heard the crunching of snow behind him; he chose not to turn to observe. Most others wore attire in order to blend in within the icy terrain about them; mostly whites and light greys, he doubted he would see them; he, however, stuck out like pepper amongst salt, and for that few would let him be. He stood there and waited for this new wintry annoyance to speak; to chastise him for not camoflauging himself to invisibility.
The footsteps, indeed, did stop behind him. "Chi-ald. Thar yu were."
Killer, actually of a smaller and scrawnier build, paused for a moment; those within this place were only about his size, at tallest; the voice had come from what sounded like the rooftop and was most definately of an accent unfamiliar to him; such a thing was extremely rare, for no visitor had ever come to this town in winter, and never anybody new. Curious that an outsider who had never been here before who had come in the middle of winter to this place to seek him out, and aware of the oddity of the situation, Killer turned around and looked up; instantly, his jaw dropped open as his gaze fell upon the tallest man he, and likely anybody else in the town or even in the country, had ever seen. His mind at a blank, slowly, almost silently, he whispered, as if to question what he was seeing, but a single word: "What?"
This stranger before him sighed, and his huge steam-cloud seemed to go on for ages. He was, indeed, as tall as the rooftop; if Killer was around five and a half feet, this stranger before him had to be well over nine. Powerfully built, most of him looked to be covered by a black bearksin cloak, save a single arm and his head; although, more likely, at his size, there were at least three bears whose skin had gone into the makin of that cloak. This stranger; his skin, like Killer's, was quite pale; it seemed more full of a peach-lke color, however, while the other citizens of the town had pure white skin. Most certaintly, this stranger was not from here. Of his one hand that was exposed, a silk sleeve ran down the entirety of it, all black save a few inches of a ruby-colored ring at the end of it; this hand gripped a staff in a death-grip; black was the staff as well, and just as tall as he; his hand held the direct middle of it; from that, Killer estimatd him around ten foot nothing for height. His eyes were midnight and piercing black; they stared at him with a dark frown; his lips were the same shade as Killer's, although- on a curious note- on either end there was a little identation as if he were biting the sides of his lips. Upon his right ear were three gold hoop-earrings inlaid with jade; from the looks of it, they were real, too. The stranger wore his hair halfway down his back; it seemed to be a mixture of black and very, very dark purple; the man did look somewhat graceful and beautiful, but was definately no god of handsome, either.
"I sed I have bean looking for you, chi-ald," The stanger spoke again in his odd accent; male, with a definant softness and silkiness to it. "Your name es Keeller, I believe; you may call me Te-su-ka."
Killer stared at the tall man in front of him. "Umm... what?"
"Te-su-ka. T-I-S-U-K-A. Mein name is Tisuka, or at least the one you are allowed to use. Come. We leave." With those words the man who called himself Tisuka lifted the giant black pole in his right hand and slung it across his shoulder. "We do not heve all day, chi-ald. Come."
Killer stared at this tall man; this, this Tisuka, in disbelief. What, exactly, was going on here he had no clue. "Excuse me, I know this may seem rude, but, who are you?"
"They told me you were tiny, not slow. I will lepeat et one last time- you are to address me as Tisuka. Now, shake a leg; et's cold, and I do not weesh to leenger." Tisuka stared at Killer expectantly.
Killer looked down for a moment, sighing, then looked back up. "That's, um, that's not what I meant exactly. Let's, um, let's start over. Okay, so your name is Tisuka, and my name is Killer; we have that part down. We also know you're really tall, and I'm small- according to you- and that it's snowy and cold here. What I'm asking is, um, what I'm really wanting to know right now? Who are you, where did you come from, and why are you here?"
The giant Tisuka stared down at Killer in the snow for a while. "I see. Et has bean a while sence I have met up with one who knows not of enything. I apologize- I was en erra. Parmit me to buy you a drink, perhaps, and I shall explain?" He notioned to the resteraunt behind them.
Killer raised an eyebrow. "I'm only nineteen. In this place, that's not old enough to drink. And you're a total stranger. No." Killer turned and began to walk, and Tisuka began to chuckle. At that point it seemed as if an asteroid had fallen right next to Killer; he was thrown sideways by a sudden eruption of snow. Slamming against the building, he fell down into the snow, gasping.
"I, I do not like no." The giant Tisuka's hand appeared near Killer, as if to help him up, as his staff lay embedded- speared- into the ground less than an inch from where Killer had been standing. "Get up. We're having a drink."
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Cool winds of winter's day set around assaulting all trapped outside, on some little errand or another; this was always the way of cold days in most cities, and thus, this was no exception. Surrounded on four sides by large, forrested hills, some with snow and some not, making it seem like a brown tapestry spotted with white covered the slopes. Pines were here as well, giving in a dash of green every now and again; birds chirping their little songs could be heard singing their happy little tunes as ther flittered about the town, always seeking a new, dry roost. Going in a circular pattern inwards was this small and somewhat peaceful town; little ever happened here, andm ost houses made of stone would have given the look of being just large formations of rock amidst a two-foot snowdrift, had it not been for the smoke of the chimneys, and for the little figures seen moving about the town of those who needed to be out this cold day.
One young body in particular was a light-skined child named Killer, for some odd reason or another; his skin tone was scarcely different than that of the snow, but his lips were more red than cherries and his eyes a brilliant shade of purple; his black hair, cut short to his skull, lay wet and hanging about his head, for he wore no hat. Rather, he had forsaken it, believing his atire to be enough; he wore brown hiking boots and blue jeans always when outside; everyday he wore a t-shirt and another flannel jacket besides, just a small second layer; this day he also wore a warm blue jacket and black gloves besides, with a black backpack upon his shoulder as he hauled forth himself back from the library to his own homestead.
He stopped and paused to lean against a resteraunt building for a moment and sighed heavily, his breath coming out like smoke from a dragon's mouth. He heard the crunching of snow behind him; he chose not to turn to observe. Most others wore attire in order to blend in within the icy terrain about them; mostly whites and light greys, he doubted he would see them; he, however, stuck out like pepper amongst salt, and for that few would let him be. He stood there and waited for this new wintry annoyance to speak; to chastise him for not camoflauging himself to invisibility.
The footsteps, indeed, did stop behind him. "Chi-ald. Thar yu were."
Killer, actually of a smaller and scrawnier build, paused for a moment; those within this place were only about his size, at tallest; the voice had come from what sounded like the rooftop and was most definately of an accent unfamiliar to him; such a thing was extremely rare, for no visitor had ever come to this town in winter, and never anybody new. Curious that an outsider who had never been here before who had come in the middle of winter to this place to seek him out, and aware of the oddity of the situation, Killer turned around and looked up; instantly, his jaw dropped open as his gaze fell upon the tallest man he, and likely anybody else in the town or even in the country, had ever seen. His mind at a blank, slowly, almost silently, he whispered, as if to question what he was seeing, but a single word: "What?"
This stranger before him sighed, and his huge steam-cloud seemed to go on for ages. He was, indeed, as tall as the rooftop; if Killer was around five and a half feet, this stranger before him had to be well over nine. Powerfully built, most of him looked to be covered by a black bearksin cloak, save a single arm and his head; although, more likely, at his size, there were at least three bears whose skin had gone into the makin of that cloak. This stranger; his skin, like Killer's, was quite pale; it seemed more full of a peach-lke color, however, while the other citizens of the town had pure white skin. Most certaintly, this stranger was not from here. Of his one hand that was exposed, a silk sleeve ran down the entirety of it, all black save a few inches of a ruby-colored ring at the end of it; this hand gripped a staff in a death-grip; black was the staff as well, and just as tall as he; his hand held the direct middle of it; from that, Killer estimatd him around ten foot nothing for height. His eyes were midnight and piercing black; they stared at him with a dark frown; his lips were the same shade as Killer's, although- on a curious note- on either end there was a little identation as if he were biting the sides of his lips. Upon his right ear were three gold hoop-earrings inlaid with jade; from the looks of it, they were real, too. The stranger wore his hair halfway down his back; it seemed to be a mixture of black and very, very dark purple; the man did look somewhat graceful and beautiful, but was definately no god of handsome, either.
"I sed I have bean looking for you, chi-ald," The stanger spoke again in his odd accent; male, with a definant softness and silkiness to it. "Your name es Keeller, I believe; you may call me Te-su-ka."
Killer stared at the tall man in front of him. "Umm... what?"
"Te-su-ka. T-I-S-U-K-A. Mein name is Tisuka, or at least the one you are allowed to use. Come. We leave." With those words the man who called himself Tisuka lifted the giant black pole in his right hand and slung it across his shoulder. "We do not heve all day, chi-ald. Come."
Killer stared at this tall man; this, this Tisuka, in disbelief. What, exactly, was going on here he had no clue. "Excuse me, I know this may seem rude, but, who are you?"
"They told me you were tiny, not slow. I will lepeat et one last time- you are to address me as Tisuka. Now, shake a leg; et's cold, and I do not weesh to leenger." Tisuka stared at Killer expectantly.
Killer looked down for a moment, sighing, then looked back up. "That's, um, that's not what I meant exactly. Let's, um, let's start over. Okay, so your name is Tisuka, and my name is Killer; we have that part down. We also know you're really tall, and I'm small- according to you- and that it's snowy and cold here. What I'm asking is, um, what I'm really wanting to know right now? Who are you, where did you come from, and why are you here?"
The giant Tisuka stared down at Killer in the snow for a while. "I see. Et has bean a while sence I have met up with one who knows not of enything. I apologize- I was en erra. Parmit me to buy you a drink, perhaps, and I shall explain?" He notioned to the resteraunt behind them.
Killer raised an eyebrow. "I'm only nineteen. In this place, that's not old enough to drink. And you're a total stranger. No." Killer turned and began to walk, and Tisuka began to chuckle. At that point it seemed as if an asteroid had fallen right next to Killer; he was thrown sideways by a sudden eruption of snow. Slamming against the building, he fell down into the snow, gasping.
"I, I do not like no." The giant Tisuka's hand appeared near Killer, as if to help him up, as his staff lay embedded- speared- into the ground less than an inch from where Killer had been standing. "Get up. We're having a drink."
