Gwaihir

Gwaihir's most obvious unique trait is his obsession with Wiggly Cabbages, but I think it stems from a deeper, probably more interesting trait--Gwaihir tends to get obsessed about everything. He walks around in a cheerful dream, missing most of his world, so he tends to look rather messy with ink and dirt all over.His loves are writing, and discovering new things, particularly Wiggly Cabbages...and he is very protective of them. Also, his spaceyness, and preoccupation can make his speech rather child-like at times. Myth is based on the principle of a person who is at heart very kind, trusting and loving, but then grows up in a cruel, utterly uncaring society, and is early forced to be involved in the death of the only person she really cares about (doesn't sound so cliched when I'm not condensing so much ; ). She is taught that caring and trust just get you hurt, and impulsiveness gets you killed. So she is always a person who tries to act cruel and calculating....she gets very very good at the act, but it is also fake.

This the beginning of a larger piece... No particular plans to inflict it on you all, but it's what I'm working on so I felt like posting a bit of it. (though comments are quite welcome “Who are you, what have you done, and why the fuck do I care?” That’s what my brother’s mentor asked when I went to the den, a little room in a warehouse, where he holds sway and asked to be his student. I’m Myth Shan’ri, and I was such a naïve fool then. The number of times my present self could kill that young self in ten seconds still stuns me. [page break] The students all sit in the packed lecture hall. Half of them are thrilled to be there. This is a person who really knows what the enemy is like. The other half is disgusted and wouldn’t be here if it weren’t required of all Remans’ upper-level students. They’d rather be in their labs, working on magic, than listening to some woman who can’t even do any. What use can she really be to advanced students like them if she knows nothing? When she came in the room she was so quiet that few of them even noticed. She just stopped by the blackboard and watched them. One particularly observant guy turned to his neighbour. “How the hell did she make that stupid creaking door work silently? I’ve never seen or heard that door work smoothly in my life. She didn’t even know it creaked usually, but she just naturally made it smooth “You sure she doesn’t know magic?” a near by listener asked. The rest only shrugged. “I’m Myth and I’ll tell this from my point of view so hold your peace when I say something you already know,” she said, and they jumped to see her there. Slowly as she looked at them the room suddenly got quiet. Even though few of them knew why, they were all surprised to see her there. It was partly because of her silent entry, but also because they all tended to only stop talking when they heard the door. A few of them kept muttering, but after her chill eyes held them for a moment they broke off mid syllable and looked almost scared. “I don’t really care whether you want to be here, but I expect respect from every one of you. He asked me to come here, and spend two class periods, a week telling you all about my life, because he thinks it’ll help you all out there. He’s right–you all could indeed learn something from it, so pay attention, and we’ll see how this works.” A couple guys in the middle of the room began to carry on a written conversation: “She looks at us as if we were little kids, like worthless beginners or something We’ve done a hell of a lot What right has she to do that, she can’t be over thirty-five” wrote one, outraged. “No,” his companion replied, “look at her scars, she’s forty-five if she’s a year. Lots of grey hair too. Anyhow, you’re right about her attitude, it’s reall-” Here the woman they’d come to hear got tired of their note-passing and raised her eyebrows at them. They quickly turned their attention to what she’d already begun to say, and she returned to her constant pacing. The first speaker was right, she was thirty, but it was easy to see how his friend could be confused. That beauty that youth gives to all had left her too quickly. Despite that, she was anything but tired and middle aged--fervent and angry is more like it. On the physical level she was quite small and somewhat Hispanic with long, messy, black, hair and a face that was indeed scarred with more than memories.

It's an awesome ray of light

The person above me would not have replied to this thread if Quincunx hadn't and more interestingly, and more reliably he's posted some more of his story Final Death, which I Highly reccomend to all of you!

I pictured a crow, but I blame that on Nyyark :yuigrin: Now that's really creepy. Awesome stuff, and classic Z. Absolutely incredible.

I dare say I don't see why it's confusing to play a character who isn't the same sex as you, but umm...if I know what's confusing I could help out.

At first as the pegasus put her down outside the pen fortress Rune was quiet, thinking about having stepped in all those people's thoughts, but then she turned and saw the pegasus again. She was reminded once again that it was beautiful. Before she could get even close to bored of watching the gorgeous creature organizing it's pelt Gwaihir appeared. His hair was even messier than usual, and the dirt stains that were all over his face in addition to the usual ink stains suggested more preoccupation than usual. He ran pel mel, and as he called to her, Rune noticed that his hands and knees were caked with black dirt. He seemed in a hurry though, so she looked regretfully at the pegasi, and walked over. "Come see! One of them's ready to talk." Gwaihir said all in one breath, and then turned and sprinted down one side of the fortress, and around the corner. Rune followed after, and just hoped that he didn't get too far ahead and lose her--it had seemed urgent. As she finally rounded the edge, trailing her hand along on the bricks as she went she saw the creatures that Gwaihir spoke of constantly. Rune had never seen them, but it was clear that they were the Wiggly Cabbages. She stopped in her tracks! They sat in even rows on the ground, and each one gyrated or moved it’s leaves about in a random looking way. They were iridescent, and beautiful, but they were cabbages! Gwaihir turned, and beckoned and she ran forwards excitedly only to be stopped for a moment as one who has ran into a mattress that’s stood up on it’s side. Rune blinked, but before she could protest though, she heard words in her mind. “Well, you seem quite all right, Welcome! I’m the first cabbage on the left, and I’m glad to see you. Today’s been quite drab, the raccoon must have got over his hurt foot, becuase he didn’t come to see us, and the owl has done nothing but whine all day...says it’s not her fault we can hear her...well it’s true, but it’s giving me a headache I”m telling you. Anyhow, I’m hoping the unicorn stops by.” Rune grabbed her head, confused by this sudden flow of information, and the cabbage seemed to sense this and paused. Gwaihir looked up, beaming. “These are my friends!” Rune nodded, and then laughed as the spacey elf’s stomach rumbled loudly. Come to think of it, she was hungry too. “Well, sweetie pie, there’s some nice fresh blueberries for you to eat if you walk twenty paces to the left...well, no dear make that forty of your paces. Gwaihir, go with her, you haven’t eaten since you came out here, ten hours ago! I’ll even make Brightie stay quiet for the whole time you eat. Go along dear. Yes, Brightie is the one who spoke first.” Before Rune could do more than look at her hands and remember which way left was, however she heard the motherly cabbage again. "Oh no, I think they’re calling for you inside, so I guess you’d better head that way, but come see us again sometime! You really you know!" If a Wiggly Cabbage could seem to beam on her, that one certainly seemed to as Rune trotted off obediently.

[13:57] [Thinas] Hi guys. [13:57] * Angel- shoots Thinas directly in the back of the skull. edited so that the word thinas shows up

LoL-Cerulean, that rocks ;P

Oh, but Gyrfalcon, every tree speaks, if one just listens. Maybe they don't speak as much to half breeds though. A light happy, cool poem

if I actually roleplayed the character it wouldn't be as confusing....I should probably....but I don't note that Gwaihir is, though named after the eagle an elf

an interestign way of putting yourself into another's mind. Well done :yuismile:

I don't think Sonnets have to have any particular necessary subject, but I like yours a lot .

and much clearer. I had to reead the first one a couple times at first to understand. This one makes more sense.

But no one would want sugar enough to do that! No wolves in these parts. This equipment I bought from Wyvern will keep me safe

I thought Tzim's entry intresting also, in a compllicated, Tzimish sort of way They were all fun to read. Thank you Wyvern for hosting a contest that produces such interesting entries. :yuismile:

I'm pretty sure it is meant to, and I like the poem. That's really cute (and funny. : )

The person above me has an interesting, nihilistic home page with descriptions of characters

GAAH, caught three times while posting!! The person above me likes to be 12

The person above me is correct this time

bah, twice in one day to be caught posting at the same time as someone! The Person has a poem on his wall about Snow

The person above me is an eradication mage when he's not a picture

Everything must be well named, becaue nothing can be badly

The person above me has a really odd grin, you should watch her when she does it...it's eerie

The person above me writes cool poems, but shouldn't be trusted when he whistles innocently!