Yui-chan

I think I'm a little late, but I sincerely hope you both have enjoyed your birthdays. Congratulations on another year forward... Yours, ~Yui

The Decanter of Endless Booze is a powerful artifact once owned by the incredibly drunk and much-loved Brute of Archmage fame. When he had to move on, he passed it on to Wyvern by way of a contest on the Archmage bulletin board. Lumpen dearly wanted it and still conspires to convince Wyvern to pass it on to him. That is why Lumpenproletariat said that. It's an old, old story. Helpfully Historical, ~Yui

Cockroaches.... vampires.... cockroaches.... vampires.... >_ Thanks for reading, Gyr. Torn, ~Yui

#22 New Age 9 August, 04 {Located in the Scarlett Pen for harsh language.}

Thanks for the riches of Ward, Zadown. As always, they were gems. I loved the battle in particular, mutedly horrible and understatedly difficult, especially since we weren't even aware of the most alarming portion of it until the very end. Poor Jankiize. It's a good lesson to learn, though, especially since she's so tied to a Planewalker's existence... for now. I'm already starting to get curious about the endgame. What'll be left for Janki after growing up with the Dreamer, if she even survives the acquisition of the Grail? Much to think about... Thank you! ~Yui

*Author's note: The events of this post are approximately eight years in the future of the present-day Pen. _________________ Eleven She didn't realize, at first, that she wasn't alone. Sitting in the quiet of the afternoon sun, Temae Yui was too busy sucking her finger and cursing at the fiftieth pin-prick of the day to notice the immense weight of raw power that dampened the air or to feel the slight shift in the breeze coming in from the hallway. At a different time in her long life, a lapse like that would have been stupid at best and deadly at worst, earning her the censure of many a military advisor and a good scolding from her partner. These days, however, the hard edge had faded away from her life, and more important ideas than wariness occupied her thoughts. Luckily for her, the potentially dangerous visitor that day came to the Library with green eyes and benign intention. "I see ye haven't yet mastered the art of sewing, m'lady Yui." His gravely voice broke the silence as gently as a Planewalker could manage, but still she started, adding another bloody prick to the pad of her thumb. The consternation on her face was almost enough to inspire even the taciturn Dreamer to laughter. Almost. As it was, he merely raised a brow, bending the scars on his face into new shapes. "Hmph. A thousand lifetimes wouldn't be enough time to learn this so-called 'refined' talent. I'm quite sure of it." The little woman smiled despite the frustration clear in her voice, taking the opportunity to lay the small garment that was slowly taking shape beneath her unskilled hands back in its basket. "It's been a long time since I last saw you, Dreamer-sama. I suppose it's too much to hope that you've come to tell a very bored Huntress another of your fascinating stories... Will you sit?" He shook his head, folding his hands in the sleeves of his robe as he eyed the proferred chair. "Nah. I'm afraid not, m'lady. I came to invite ye t' visit th' Astral Harbor, instead. I... have a need of yer particular expertise." The statement had her raising a brow in surprise. "My expertise? I must admit I'm confounded to find anything I could possibly know about that you wouldn't. What can I help you with?" The gaunt planewalker shrugged his shoulders, his armor creaking and clanking in strange ways. "Ye know I've been raising a ward with me in th' Astral Harbor?" She nodded. "A daughter, if my memory serves. Jonathan Nor'Envar took great delight in describing his brief encounter with the girl... how many years ago was it? Three or four?" "Three," he corrected, his countenance darkening ever so subtly at the memory of the child's short-lived disappearance. The Huntress couldn't help but examine the telling expression, ever curious to learn about the Dreamer-who-would-be-a-father. What she saw there made her smile. "Three, then. What of her? Is she well?" "Ya," he nodded, "she's well. She's ... nearin' an age where she'll need to learn some lessons that I am ... unsuited to teach, an' I've come to ask ye to do th' job for me. I need someone to tell her th' ways o' a woman, to tell her what to expect from her mortal body." Yui blinked at that, a blush and a wry grin both growing on her fair face. "Ah. The ways of a woman's body..." she repeated with a soft laugh, one hand moving to rest self-consciously on her belly. "Well, now, that explains a lot. No, I can't imagine you would be terribly knowledgeable about such things, and goodness knows I'm certainly in a ... unique situation to be able to explain it all." She laughed softly, the sound becoming breathless as she struggled up from her chair. "Is your ward that old, already? How time flies... It seems like only yesterday that Jonathan was going on about his quick introduction to the Dreamer's 'cute little daughter'." "Th' Li'tl' Princess has gone from child to adult in th' blink of an eye, as all ye mortals do." Once again, the woman's rich laughter warmed the room. "Just so. Children grow quickly, Dreamer, the better to enjoy the long afternoon of adulthood. I will be honored to help the young lady understand this part of her nature... provided that you can assure our safety. I don't make decisions just for myself, these days, and I am under strict orders not to take risks." She grinned wryly, rolling her eyes. "Aegon's orders." The Dreamer nodded, his expression solemn and determined. "Ye will be as safe as my power can provide, m'lady Yui Temae of the Shadows. I can promise ye that." "And I can ask no more than the protection of the Godslayer, neh?" Her movements lacking in their usual grace, Yui ambled over to where her ebon cloak hung across the back of a chair and swung it over her shoulders. Clasping it with practiced ease, she turned to her visitor and announced, "Saaa... in that case, I will be glad to come with you. Shall we?" "Ya," he said simply, and as he turned away, she could have sworn that there was relief in his changeling eyes. That, too, made Yui-chan smile. ____ Ten minutes later, they sat at an incongruously normal table in the muted glow of the dim portals, chatting amicably over tea and biscuits. Jankiize, they were assured, would be there shortly, and in the mean time, the Dreamer's angelic Herald had gone to fetch him some more palatable angel's blood to drink. Yui smirked as she watched the planewalker's lip curl in revulsion at the delicate teacup before him. "I appreciate the concession to my tastes, Dreamer-san, but you really don't need to keep eyeing your tea as if it's going to splash up and bite your nose off. I haven't known many varieties that were inclined to sampling flesh, mortal or immortal, and I won't ask you to drain the cup. ... Just a sip, perhaps." She couldn't resist the teasing demand, lifting her own cup to her lips to taunt him with her fearlessness. He raised a brow, his eyes shifting to white as one corner of his lips lifted. "Ya, I can do that, I s'pose. That's if ye can agree to try a sip o' angel's blood in return." His stare was a flat challenge, lightened only by the playful edge to his voice. "It prolly won't even kill ye, puny mortal." Thoroughly defeated, the woman laughed, raising her hands in surrender. "I give. I give. I may not have your lifespan, but I would prefer not to die before the end of the week, if you don't mind. You don't have to touch the tea." "That's kind of ye, m'lady," he answered sarcastically, one of his rare smiles stretching the scars on his cheeks. Jankiize watched the two of them as she approached, squaring her shoulders against the flutter of nervousness in her stomach. The woman at her Uncle's side was small and fair, nearly as pale as the Dreamer and practically childlike beside his great height. Her golden hair was held in place by a net of braids that channeled it into one thick tail down her back, and her eyes were a strange, pale green that seemed almost silver in the ambient light of the Harbor. She smiled a lot, apparently, and though her words didn't quite travel to the girl's ears, her voice was low and melodious, smooth in the way that made the child think of the water flowing over the rocks in her little garden's pond. ... and the stranger could make her Uncle smile. "Ah," he exclaimed softly, glancing up as if her thoughts of him had summoned his attention. Jankiize hurried her steps as the Dreamer and his guest stood, raising her chin a notch to bolster her courage. "M'lady Yui, I present ye with th' Lady Jankiize Towikae Vangaijuua of th' Holy Tree. Janki, this's the Lady Yui Temae, Elder of th' Pen Keep." Yui bowed her head politely to the child, even as Jankiize dipped into a curtsey that was accompanied by the clatter of the wood and bone charms adorning her clothes. "Hajimemasita, Jankiize-chan," the Huntress said softly, "It is a pleasure to meet you." "And you, Lady Yui." She had to force herself to meet the woman's placid gaze instead of giving in to the urge to look just about anywhere else, uncertainty eroding her confidence. Should she do something to impress the stranger? Intimidate her? Stay silent? A glance at the Dreamer's impassive face gave her no clue, so she blurted out the first thing to come to mind. "Uncle told me that you were even older than he is, but you don't look scarred enough for that." It earned her a smile that she could practically feel. "Well, I've lived a long time, but I'm not a planewalker like your ... Uncle. I never had to keep the scars I got, and even those I had were erased when my world reset itself," the lady said, flicking a glance at the Dreamer. "Did he ever tell you stories about the strange places that he finds when he travels the Planes?" Even as she asked, she gestured to the third seat, inviting the girl to join them at the table. "Of course. When I'm not studying and he's not too busy, Uncle tells me all kinds of stories," Jankiize answered with no small amount of pride, barely noticing her warrior companion as he pulled her chair out and seated her. She felt strangely pleased that her answer seemed to earn an approving nod from Yui. "I'm glad to hear that. I'm always trying to convince him to tell me more of his stories, but he's a very busy Planewalker, neh?" She grinned teasingly, flicking a sideways glance at the man's half-attentive features and being rewarded with a twitch of one grey eyebrow. The Huntress' good nature was infectious, and Jankiize couldn't help but grin. "Yeah. The War's always making him leave for this place or that. It's very inconvenient to my story times." "Both ya little mortals should know that th' War is more important than a few o' th' old tales," the creature in question finally interjected, his eyes shifting back from the distant blue of the Void. Though Jankiize's solemn expression gave nothing away, the triumphant smirk on Yui's face belatedly informed him of the tongue-in-cheek nature of their statements. He scowled in an attempt to put the troublesome Huntress back in her place, and she had the good graces to at least look a little sheepish. "Eetoo... This's the War you mentioned on the way here, Dreamer-san? The one between Order and Chaos?" At his nod, the woman frowned slightly. "I gather that it's not going well?" "Ya, ye'd gather that correctly enough, I s'pose. Th' Law has had a few too many vic'tries, of late, an' we o' Chaos 're hard-pressed t' keep 'em from gainin' th' advantage." He shook his head, his hair swishing across the metal of his rough-hewn crown. In the depths of his frown was a worry about what would become of the multiverse if Law truly defeated them. Yui shook her head. "It's strange to imagine Order as the 'bad guy', but then... that is the lesson to be learned, isn't it?" she asked, looking at Jankiize as if inviting her to finish the thought. The Little Princess couldn't resist the challenge, so she nodded slightly. "It's about balance, isn't it? Too much Law is bad for everything, just like too much Chaos would be." "Ya, that's true. 'Tis the p--" The Dreamer paused mid-sentence, turning his suddenly-yellow gaze out across the Astral. At the same moment, his Herald came bustling across the Harbor to lean down and mutter something in his ear. The Planewalker's frown darkened alarmingly, and he dismissed the creature with nothing more than a nod before turning back to his companions. "Speakin' of th' War... I'll beg yer pardon, m'ladies. I need to leave ye t' each other fo' th' present. Matters need my attention elsewhere." Yui and Jankiize both stood as he did, the former bowing politely and the latter trying hard not to look worried. "Of course, Dreamer-san," the Huntress offered for the two of them, catching the control on the girl's dark features. "Ganbare. I wish you good luck and hope you'll be careful." Jankiize merely nodded in almost a precise imitation of him and watched as he ran away into the depths of the Void without further ceremonies. For a long moment, the two didn't move, staring after the tall planewalker. Then, they both suddenly remembered where they were... and with whom. "Umm... sooooo... would you - would you like some more tea, Lady Yui?" Jankiize fell back on formality, unsure of what to do with her Uncle's guest. Nervousness coursed through her like an electric current, burning away the ease she'd just begun to find with the woman while the Dreamer had been there. Of course, nervousness had a formidable enemy in Yui-chan's kind eyes. The woman smiled politely, putting a hand over the top of her cup. "Ie, thank you. I've had enough, and really... I came here to speak with you. Your Uncle asked me to teach you a few ... lessons you'll need soon." That had the Little Princess blinking, her confusion clear. "You're going to teach me? But... But I have all the tomes I need, and Uncle is showing me swordcraft. I already know warding and rune-magics and arithmetic and even some about the Paths. What do you know about that Uncle doesn't?" Yui laughed softly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's funny that you should ask me that, because it's exactly what I asked your Uncle when he approached me for help. There are only two things I know better than your uncle, kiree na hime... First, I know what it is to be mortal, like you are. Second... well..." With an anticipatory smile, she rubbed a hand over the massive swell of her belly as if she could caress the child she carried there through the fabric and skin beneath. "I am a woman, like you, Jankiize-chan. There are things I need to teach you about ... about changes that you will soon experience in your body." The poor child's eyes widened in horror as she reexamined Yui's extremely-pregnant condition. "Am I ... am I going to change to bulge out like you do?!" she asked in a shocked whisper. "I thought you were just that way because you were funny-shaped! I don't want to go all round and floompy!" "Ohhh..." Try as hard as she might, the Huntress couldn't help but laugh at the child's misunderstanding. Biting her lip, she held her hand out to Jankiize and beckoned her closer, taking a step away from the table. "No, no, sweetheart... I don't always look like this. Come. Put your hand here." Jankiize hesitantly gave the woman her hand, stepping closer when Yui guided it to a particular point on the top of her rounded abdomen. Uncomfortable, she was about to pull it away and replace the buffer of distance between them when ... something beneath the woman's skin thudded against her hand, startling her. "Oh!" the Little Princess gasped, her startled eyes flying to her companion's. "There's something in there!" Yui's smile was full of pride as she nodded. "Hai. That's my son, Jankiize-chan. My mate and I created him together, and now I carry him inside my body until he is strong enough to be born. It is what women's bodies are designed for, and it is what drives the ... the process that I am going to teach you about. At one time you were the little baby within your mother's belly. Did you not know?" "I... no... I didn't know." "Saaa... then, I have many things to tell you about. Will you show me your beautiful garden while we talk? I'd like to walk, and the smell of it is enchanting, even from here," the Huntress said with a little smile. She flicked a glance at the stern face of the girl's guardian nearby, asking him a question with her eyes. Already red-faced from his deduction of the topic of their conversation, the man in the bone and wood armor nodded slightly, folding his arms across his chest. He would stay put. 'Woman talks' were definitely more than he could handle... _____ The Dreamer returned nearly twelve hours later to a quiet Harbor, his face set into grim lines and his armor blood-streaked. This time, at least, the blood was not his, but he'd been too late to prevent another setback, another loss in the battle against merciless Law. His eyes still burned with the electric purple of fading rage... ... until he spied the two figures on the grass in the garden. His anger couldn't survive the sight, and he blinked, his long strides eating up the distance to the garden wall. Yui Temae raised her head at his approach, her smile hidden for a moment as she held a finger against her lips to warn him to silence. A quickly muttered spell muffled his footfalls, and before he knew quite what he was doing, he was crouched beside them, his gaze on the sleeping face of the girl resting against what was left of his guest's lap. With a motherly touch, the Huntress stroked an errant lock off Jankiize's forehead. "I think I frightened her a bit, but she's been brave. She's a good girl, Dreamer-san." He didn't answer right away, but when he did, a little smile tugged at the corners of his stern mouth. "Ya, she is."

Have you ever wanted to make a response, but bitten back the words because they might just reveal a little too much of you to strangers?

Ah, so many good character poems. This is really enjoyable. Thanks, everyone! And thank you for the idea, Master Peredhil. Yours, ~Yui

Terran soil once held me bound Enchained by vows of grief. Millenia of war I found And friends I'll always keep. Ended by divine decree, Yet never truly lost, Unsung home of family I forfeited as cost. ___ Downtipped, crouched low, with a waggling tail A bright fluffball launched with a yip-tinted wail. Race 'round the room to the skitter of claws Yerfing your laughter with barely a pause. Light shines around you from pure, priceless glee, Colored with reds, whites and golds I can see As little fox springs - pouncing, on the attack - Reaching to latch on poor Jonathan's back. Now comes the rolling and yapping and yelps Surrounding a battle where nobody helps. Inside you, I know, hides a human man's soul, Locked quite acceptingly into this role. It's hard to imagine when watching you gnaw On your Wolfey friend's ear or his poor, captured paw. No, it's hard to remember you're not you at all...

{Transfered from the freewrites thread in order to consolidate poems.} Haikai - Memory 8 July, 2004 Little boy of three plays beneath the chestnut trees amongst sharp-spined pods Such liquid brown eyes above a pure-hearted smile - dark earth and bright snow. A misplaced touch falls trailing pain and frantic tears; his handprints are blood. * Little boy of ten in his father's overalls and old leather boots. Eager dark, deep eyes pierce from a serious frown. Fierce concentration! A misjudged blow lands, breaks skin as well as metal leaving pride in rags. * Young man of eighteen with the blue wind in his hair chases rage with booze. Once lively, his eyes are ash and frozen wasteland; bitterness scars him. A moment's time lost sends man and car through the night to a broken end. * Little memory of a beautiful, sweet child - you are all he left. _____ It only hurts, now, when I think of what you've missed. ... and what you've shattered. _____

I want to thank all three of you for your comments. As an experimental form for me, I am very interested in your reactions to this one. I really had no idea what to expect, and it seems to me between the three of you, you've covered the range of like-dislike. What I find funny is that, since this is somewhere between metric and freeform, I have no ... no 'rule set' to apply to your feedback and judge potential corrections. I'm afraid this poem just ... is what it is. Nothing more or less than 'experimental'. Thank you for reading it, though! I've learned from both the work and your feedback. Yours, ~Yui

#21 Ashen Circle 28 July, 04 I stand at the center of a circle, and though there are no walls rising from the scribed arc on the ground, I am imprisoned. I am chained within by a rusted length of fear and mistrust that is shackled to my heart. I can see them out there, of course, the people that I know. They all wander the field around my circle, some carrying burdens, some skipping lightly. Some walk alone; some go hand-in-hand with another. I see them, and they see me. They come to chat, smile, say their 'hellos'. They stand on the outside of the burnt ground around me and talk about the weather or their latest work or ask about my day. They make some comment about their pet or my spouse and laugh at the joke. I smile and laugh with them, of course. I enjoy the conversation, the chance to learn. Sometimes, I even share a little bit with them, if they prove interested and willing to listen. However, I know that in the end, they will turn away from the circle to continue their wanderings. I'm not strong enough to lift my arms and reach out to them, for when I try, my wrists are as shackled as my heart. I'm not strong enough to break the chain and beckon them in, and they're not strong enough to brave my ashen circle. Except for one. This one steps across the border as if it weren't there and walks right up to me, wrapping me in an embrace that turns the chains to mist. This one, I'm free to touch. And love. This one, I don't have to fear. This one will listen as much as speak, will care as much as be cared for. This one is trustworthy and won't hurt me. I stand in the center of a circle, and I am blessed that he stands there with me.

"Are you sure you've –" "I be as sure as ye are winged, lady, an' I swears tha' if ya questions me medical talents any more, I'll be throwin' ya overboard - Cap'n's orders or no!" The man's voice was as harsh and clipped as it could possibly be while maintaining a whisper, and the sudden incensed rage in it made the woman beside him blink owlishly. Why, with his surprisingly-clean fingers curling towards her throat, she could almost believe the white-haired ship's surgeon actually was considering acting on his threat. Kaleyra blinked, again, realizing far too belatedly that the past five questions she'd asked had all tread heavily on his professional integrity. She ducked her head, fighting a blush that crept up her cheeks. "Ah. Do please forgive my indelicate ramblings, good physician. I fear that incumbent exhaustion and worry over my ... my friend have made me foolish. Of course you've done well. Timothy's wounds were quite distressing, and I can see the talent with which he's been treated." Resting her hand over her heart, she tucked her wings and bowed. "You have my most sincere apologies." Despite his tough words, the old man wasn't proof against her sincerity and humility, and he accepted her apology with a wordless grunt, turning away to check on a wounded sailor that had started moaning in the far bunk of the crowded infirmary. He was ready for his exotic guest's offer of help, and waved a hand dismissively at her before she could do anything more than open her mouth. "I c'n handle the lads, lady. Ye jus' finish ye're bizness with th'warrior an' be lettin' 'im rest. Aye?" "Aye, doctor." As soon as the whispered words left her lips, the doctor was forgotten, and the young scholar's attention shifted, riveting solely on Timothy's prone form. She hadn't meant to, but she couldn't resist a quick examination, her deft hands and keen eyes taking in every detail of his improving health from heart rate to a very gentle exploration of the metal-covered ruin of his left eye. The metal was so thoroughly fused with his skin, that she could only agree with the doctor's assessment: Better to leave it, sealed against infection as it was, than to risk another open wound in his current weak state. Still... he looked like a thing utterly changed from what he had been. And why not? Kaleyra mused as she lifted his limp hand and clasped it between hers, her sad eyes traveling his wan face. Timothy came on this journey ignorant of all that he was. Now, he knows who else is in his blood, and perhaps why he has suffered those visions all his life. He is changed. ... perhaps we all are. She looked down at where her fingers lay against the young man's palm, the contact that would have been strange to her only months before feeling as natural and comfortable as the cover of an aged tome. She wasn't uneasy. She wasn't nervous. She wasn't even inclined to analyze or catalogue the enigma that was Timothy MacLaggan. Nor had she felt those ways about Gyrfalcon, or even Myth, for many days. That realization brought a small smile to the Avian's face, and she whispered softly, "I think this must be what it means to have friends. I wish I had known it s--" The young woman paused mid-sentence, thought crystallizing so suddenly that she stiffened with the shock of it. She wasn't the only one who should have known friendship sooner. This was a feeling forgotten by her entire race, by a people who had been living in strict isolationism for so long that they hadn't considered seeking help from outside themselves, even in the face of extinction. The Avian people had no friends, so they huddled up on their dying mountain, letting themselves feel uncomfortable and nervous about the beings that shared their world, treating them like specimens to be studied instead of peers to be consulted. ... and they slowly died, while humans and elves and orcs and dwarves and all manners of other races thrived and exchanged and advanced. Because they had friends. Because they weren't afraid to be part of the world, danger or not. Because there is strength in diversity. After the pitched battle with Jagon, Kaleyra could never have argued the thought. None of them would have stood a chance against the deranged archangel alone, but together, they had survived and triumphed. Their different talents and abilities and intellects had combined in a common purpose, forming them into a singular power that had done what should have been all but impossible. That disparate unity was the key to everything, the answer she had come into this alien world to find. It was the way to save her people. ... and she hadn't even needed the Pool to tell it to her. A choked sound, half sob and half laugh, stirred the quiet of the infirmary, drawing the doctor's gaze to the winged woman as she hunched convulsively over her friend, her head bowed over his chest. For a moment, she was still, and he wondered if he'd imagined the sound. Then the soft-hearted old man noticed the way her shoulders shook, and his face fell into familiar, sad lines. A woman crying over a sick bed meant only one thing - he had failed. He sighed as he made his way through the maze of resting wounded, reflecting unhappily that he'd thought the young man was recovering well. Death could be such an unpredictable mistress... "Ah, I'm sorry, me lady," he said softly, reaching out to press her shoulder with a rock-steady hand. "I ... I thought th' lad woulda survived." She didn't answer right away, struggling to breathe through the sobs that shook her. He thought she must've loved the young warrior very much to be so distraught... until she raised her face to look at him and showed him the bright joy that shone through the tears on her cheeks. Kaleyra smiled at the kindly doctor, shaking under the onslaught of joy and hope and pride that were a blinding contrast to the despair she'd shared only a few hours ago with Gyrfalcon. She wanted him to know, wanted to share her happiness with him, but she couldn't clear the lump in her throat long enough to tell him. Instead, she offered a quiet thought towards his all-too-human mind, letting him grasp it curiously and invite her whisper into his thoughts. He will survive, she said soundlessly, watching comprehending shock descend over his features. We will all survive - as a part of the world, this time. The strange woman's joy was a warm glow around the thought-words, instantly appealing and infectious, leaving the old surgeon stripped bare of any prejudices. Such purity of emotion was too familiar, too comforting to be alien, and no matter what power she had used to share it with him, he was grateful for the gift. With a gummy smile, he patted her shoulder and intoned quietly, "Aye, me lass. I c'n see that ye will do, indeed." With that, the doctor turned to amble away, leaving Kaleyra d'Avie alone to cry relieved tears against Timothy's warm shoulder until the moment came when exhaustion finally dragged her into slumber.

(11) Left With Nothing but Questions _______________________________ The sun was on the verge of peeking over the horizon for the first time as Djaz crept up to the silent boulders, its burgeoning light revealing the rough, grey masses that had looked so utterly black by night. Unnatural heat shimmered in the air above the tall stones, motivating the young man to grip his sword just a bit tighter, to hold it at the ready. Magic was a dangerous and unpredictable force, and he knew from rumor as well as experience that whatever that man had cast could have created anything from a mind-numbing horror to an invisible specter. He was having a bit of trouble deciding which would be preferable as he sidled up to the outward face of one of the boulders. It was time to take a peek. The Hunter spun around the edge of the boulder, stepping into the open space with his sword at the ready... only to find himself staring at nothing. A lot of it, in fact. Where the campfire had been, where the bodies of his cousin, his friend, and the assassins they'd killed had all lain was now nothing more than a carved-out, shallow crater ringed by sliced rock. Even as he stared, two of the split stones on the other side of the clearing teetered in the rising wind and toppled over backwards onto the plain. The thud of their impact with the earth echoed strangely in Djaz' ears. "What in the name of--" He couldn't even think of a strong enough element to invoke in the utter disappearance of everything that should have been there, so he could do nothing but shove a hand through his hair in frustration. With a curse, he sheathed his sword and leaned down to touch the blackened ground in the bowl of the crater. The dirt very nearly burnt his fingers, and he yanked them back, setting them against the still-icy outward surface of the rock on his right. Whatever spell had been used here, it had stolen or unmade or somehow destroyed everything within a certain radius of the caster. From the residual heat, it was possible that it had all been vaporized. Thom and Craedi would never get the burials and the honors they deserved. Djaz growled and struck his fist against the ground, rage darkening his vision. He didn't know what the things were that had attacked them - had never heard of a cult of golden-masked killers or fanatics - but he had every intention of finding out and hunting down whomever had sent them. Those assassins had been after his prey, and they had been willing - no, had intended - to kill every last man on his team to have her. That made them most likely to be religious nuts, vigilante types who believed it was their sacred duty to the elements to eradicate every last southerner. That wouldn't have been much of a problem, except that they apparently didn't have much compunction about killing the law-abiding citizens that were seeing her delivered to justice, either. The Hunter spit in disgust, closing his eyes. The little chit wasn't worth even half of one of the two lives that had been lost that night, and he was sickened to think that they had died because of her... because of a Toi who didn't know enough to stay on her own damn side of the Guardians. Hatred warmed his blood as he stalked back towards where he had left Pellorin and their little charge. The big man was just helping her to her feet, supporting her with a hand on her arm as she staggered a bit. It was really all too pathetic, and for some reason it only made Djaz more angry, made his hands want to tighten around the wench's neck until those big, silver-grey eyes of hers popped from a blue face. He ground his teeth, trying to reign in his temper with rationality. After all, he couldn't kill his prey, no matter his personal feelings; he'd ruin his career and set back years of power plays and planning. It was only by reminding himself of his grander designs that Djaz managed to not slap the little raggamuffin as he walked up to her, watching her tilted eyes fix on his face and widen. His rage, the hatred and blame he placed on her head for the events of the past hour, had been confined to his eyes, but it shone from those violet depths like the flash of lightning in a midnight sky. Both she and Pellorin saw and feared what was in that gaze, despite the bland expression he had fixed firmly on his face. She cringed back as his hands tangled in her tunic, her fearful glance going to Pel, but the big man beside her held his place, his hands fisting at his sides to keep them from reaching out to stop the Hunter. He might be willing to believe that there was more than just evil to the girl, but he would never dream of raising a hand against his leader in her defense. It was half his own sense of self-preservation and half a gut-born certainty that Djaz' good heart and relentless ambition would stop him from doing serious harm to their prey. "Two lives, princess," the young man barked in a clipped voice, lifting her to her tiptoes by the thin fabric of her shirt, "That's two lives you owe me an' two souls that you can damn well bet you'll be seeing in your dreams." He watched the fear in her eyes change to a haunted kind of grief, ignorant of the fact that his words had recalled the all-too-recent images of both men's faces as they died, and even more ignorant of just how much pain she herself felt for their loss. Tears misted her eyes, and Djaz snorted in disgust, tossing her roughly to the ground. Her parody of grief offended him anew, and he felt the rage he'd struggled so hard to contain burst free of its cage. His false smile faltered as he leaned down over her. That true expression of his hatred burned itself into her mind's eye beside the dying faces of both Thom and Craedi; it was an equally horrible thing to behold. His hand rose of its own volition, and Adreina closed her eyes, bracing herself for the blow. "Djaz." Pellorin's deep voice interrupted the moment with its utter calm, giving the young man the time he needed to get his temper back under control. He lowered his arm, sucking in a deep breath and ripping his eyes away from the cringing woman, and his companion continued, "What did you find at the stones, then?" Djaz turned towards his friend, his gaze conveying his understanding and gratitude. He forced his mind to more rational thoughts, pushing away the anger that masked his grief. "The entire place is gone, Pel. Completely. Whatever cursed spell he used, the killer took half of the rocks and a good handspan of dirt with him, as well as all of the bodies and our packs." The Hunter smirked unhappily, shaking his head. "There's not even a single clue left." The dark giant frowned, his brows drawing together over his eyes. "There might be. I took one down a bit outside o' the campsite, over attaway," he intoned, turning towards the east, where the rising sun was a blinding disk on the horizon. They both searched the ground in the distance, shielding their eyes against the glare until Pel grunted. "Oh, there 'e is." Fully in control of himself once more, Djaz grinned and patted his large colleague on the shoulder. "Trust you to leave me a present in the middle of battle, Pel. I'll be right back." It took only five minutes of searching to know that the blasted man had absolutely nothing on him except for the sword, mask, and his black tunic and trousers and cloak. To the limits of Djaz' desire to explore his body, it was all covered with the strange, rubbery skin they'd seen on his peer, though this one was lacking in the white tattoos. He wondered whether that was a function of rank or was in some way related to his current state of health. Did the spell that created and animated those tattoos dissolve upon death, or was the man who'd destroyed the campsite the only one who'd borne them? The young man sighed and set about gathering the assassin's cloak, sword and mask. He might not have given them any answers, but his golden equipment was both good evidence and a possible way to make back the cost of the lost packs. The cloak would be useful for giving him an excuse to never invite the Toi wench close to the fire again. The Hunter returned to where the others waited for him, his eyes narrowing speculatively as he saw their heads bent together. The woman glanced up first and started, stepping quickly away from Pellorin; the blush was still darkening her golden skin when Djaz stopped a few paces away from them, his eyes on his friend. The other man stared at their captive expectantly while she kept her eyes firmly fixed on the ground. "Tell 'im, mite," he boomed, prompting her as the silence mounted. "He won't 'urt you again. Will you, Djaz?" The larger man sent his friend a meaningful look, the kind of order that he could only get away with once in a great while. "Yep." Djaz replied, raising a brow at Pellorin before he turned to look at Adreina's bent head. He'd calmed down enough that looking at her didn't rouse his temper, so he felt relatively well-accomplished for the morning. It made him charitable. "I won't lay a finger on you, highness. I promise." She glanced up, then, gauging his sincerity. So, she did understand the Kohlani language after all. Djaz supposed he should be more annoyed than he was to learn that she'd been playing dumb all along, but all he felt was numb. The emotional outburst earlier had taken all his pain and anger away, leaving him left with nothing but impatience. When she still didn't respond right away, he raised his brows and prompted, "Well?" Adreina drew a deep breath, and he could see her gathering her courage. "Yer... um... yer friend, Curaedi... he wanted ta tell ye that... that ye were betrayed. He said to tell ye... um... 'Elite'?" The Toi ended with a puzzled look, clearly not familiar with the word, but Djaz barely noticed, his breath catching in his throat. He glanced over at Pellorin and saw his own emotion mirrored in the big man's dark eyes. There could be only one reaction to the Elite, and that was cold, healthy fear.

"Cut, cut, CUUUUUUT!" Growling angrily, Yui storms in from off to the side and mercilessly pokes, prods and pulls Tanuchan, Finnius and Appy each into a more proper position! She tilts her director's cap at a jaunty angle, glares at each of them menacingly and then lifts one fine-boned hand to point meaningfully at the sign that's mysteriously appeared above Madame Q's piece of parchment. "To play the game of futures known, your brevity is overthrown. Should you find you've aught to say, the thread gives you a role to play! Thank you. The management." As they all blink back at her in surprise, the demanding shadowwalker pinches her nose between two fingers to stave off a headach and grumbles, "Now, do it again. From the top!" As soon as she's back behind the camera and safely out of the scene, she floomphs down into her director's chair and shouts, "ACTION!" ... ... ...

On religion: "For us, by us. We use it for social control, the proliferation of law and order, and to manufacture meaning where we need it. It serves its purpose, for the most part, but it is not as grand as some omnipotent being's Will being done on earth. Most certainly, I don't believe that there's a human-faced 'god' up there somewhere who actually watches me write a post on the Mighty Pen and plans births, deaths, wars and daily trials for all of us. I've never been sure whether to envy or pity the people who truly believe that to be the case, but I do know that I respect their right to trust as they will. It makes them feel better about this nasty world of ours, and I would like them to feel good about their lives." On spirituality: "Energy created me. Energy sustains me. Energy defines me and everything I see, do and make. At its core, the Universe is bound together by that one thread, and I see that as a sort of unifying identity. Thus, when I feel the spiritual tug of the wind in my hair or a moment of serenity beneath a gnarled sycamore, I think it is that unity that appeals. It's my own stubborn little ball of energy drawing just a little closer to the patterns of the Universe for a moment or three. I think the Zen concepts are closest to this. Oneness is pleasure and contentment. In all likelihood, the unifying force is not nearly as 'conscious' as most every religion I know would have me believe, but I suspect that there is more to it than the simple flow of electrons or the gathering of neutrons and protons. Perhaps we are most like the cells of a body - short-lived little drones who go about their business with no clue as to their purpose in an infinitey-larger body that is unaware of them as individual components. Then again, ponderings like that lead me to a single question that I cannot answer... Does the universe exist simply because it does, or does it, too, serve as the drone to some larger pattern? I'm way too small to know that one." Philosphy. Yui-style.

Hmmm... it seems I am most like the esteemed Loremaster. Yui-chan's answers lead to Ozymandias. Ponderously, ~Yui

Yui shows off her recent memorization efforts and offers a haughty, "It's Finnius Jalopini Mustardio Canard O'Harpy, actually. So there." She sticks out her tongue at the lucky date-receptor... and then glances down at the 'note' written in ink on the back of her hand. "Er... " The Huntress blinks and looks closer at the slightly-smeared lines, a blush creeping up her cheeks. ".... um... I meant 'Mustardio Jalopini' of course. ... heheh... Finnius Mustardio Jalopini Canard O'Harpy. Right." Before Salinye's smug grin can embarrass her any further, Yui turns and beats a hasty retreat, noting that she needs to spend a little more time studying the blue dude's name. @*&$%#, ~Yui

#20 Falling Farther 22 July, 04 "...df... od... ... re ... orm ... Cik ... apl... " The voice was low and soft, its tone soothing despite the distance. It made her want to smile, but she pressed her lips more tightly together, instead, feeling dimly the rush of blood behind her eyes. Focus. It's a different one... "Do...y...ully... ...sa... for... em....?" This was the higher voice, the warm and playful one that was often trailed by a grin. It fed her visions of twinkling blue and blushed pink, though she couldn't quite pull them together into anything coherent. That vaguely troubled her. Is this right...? "... of c... th...bri... ...mon..." The third voice paused to laugh, its sound corresponding with a vague jiggle from the blur that was its source. "'S... no... ble... ...rt, Y...?" This one was joy and humor, and a sudden flash-image of bare toes and inky smudges had a giggle bubbling up uncontrollably from her throat. Shhh... shhhh... quiet... The sound of her own voice ruined everything, and the others fell silent, their blurred forms shifting. Green and brown. Blue and yellow. Indigo and black. She felt their attention like a pressure against her chest, and yet she couldn't move from where she sat. Her half-lidded gaze refused to sharpen. To focus. ... move. Smile. Talk. They're waiting... It was too hard, and she took too long. By the time she'd managed to shift her head and force herself closer to where she should have been, they were moving, their vague features resolving into concerned eyes and troubled frowns, outstretched hands that she felt on her arm. Even the touch was very far away. "Yu...? ...re y... we...?" The second voice was accompanied by the invasion of a beautiful face, and she blinked slowly, trying to defy the other's keen inspection. She managed a smile that felt summoned from a million miles away. ... all's well... all's well...Tell them. "All's well. All's well," she heard her own voice clearly, wondering idly how the words got to it. Apparently, they'd been hiding in the empty place behind her lips, just waiting to be summoned. Similarly apparently, they weren't convincing enough, because when she turned her head, it was to meet another pair of worried eyes. "...re ...ou s... ...?" There was another touch, this one more rough against the soft skin of her cheek, her forehead. She stared at green eyes and reflected that the smell of earth and leather was pleasant, comforting. He's always comforting... 'ii tomodachi', neh?... The warm thought distracted her, and she forgot to answer, drawing only more concern from the three around her. They were farther away, now, the haze heavier over their features, obscuring the sound of their voices entirely. Only the touches got through, the tightening grip on her arm, the slight sting of someone patting her cheek. Fingers against her chin lifted her lolling head, and she managed to reach up and rest her hand on a sturdy wrist. She slipped, falling farther from everything around her. As her vision faded to match the silence from her hearing, the last thing she remembered was the stark contrast of her white hand on his blue skin. (What is this? A random scene. I have no idea what's going on, but I'll bet you can guess who the people are... c'mon... guess. )

It's taken me a little while to get even a semi-done version of this created, but ... I really didn't want to delay any longer. Hopefully, everone can tell that certain... 'pretties' ... aren't the finalized versions. >_ Happy Quill-Quest completion and promotion, Alaeha! I've taken the wonderful work here and made a present for you! Feel free to share with the others, if you like. Thanks for doing all this great work! Yours, ~Yui PS: Special thanks to everyone who let me use their characters and to the people who wrote up the descriptions. There were tons of great characters and writeups to choose from, but I picked these particular ones for diversity of characters as well as amusement value of the writeups. Also, special thanks to Alzorath for the ChibiWyv and permission to make it into a banner for this.

Trallaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! >_ Reviver of dead topics, ~Yui

I didn't want to open a new thread, but ... Ward is great, Zadown. It's everything I'd hoped to see in and about the Dreamer, and the Little Princess is a treasure! I find it reassuring that even the immortal Planewalker is susceptible to the love of a child. Mwah! I wait with bated breath for every new post. Sincerely, ~Yui

*laughs* That was a wonderful read to start the morning with, Peredhude. Thank you. ... I don't know who to feel worse for when I consider their relationship - Melba or Wyvern. Zyaa, ~Yui

The 9.2.5 Where once words would have wakened me, now nothing knows the way. A victim of vacuity, I freefall through the day. Must check the many messages, just skim and skip and sort. Must nod at what the Big Boss says; restrain that rash retort. Each person passing past my door should see me hard at work. Each task I take just tempts me more to claim a nap as 'perk'. My heavy head is hanging here, refusing basic thought, but management has made it clear - I'll stay here 'till I rot. Just a little bit of alliterative fun.

(10) When All Else Fails... ________________________ Djaz and Pellorin rushed towards the ring of boulders as Adreina's cut-off scream escaped out across the cold plain, their boots beating a staccato tattoo on the ground. They barely glanced at each other before they suddenly split directions, circling around the campsite to approach from two sides. The older of the two drew up first, and he found himself watching yet another of the mysterious assailants grab at their raggedy captive as she staggered back, her knees crumpling beneath her. One look at the Toi's pale, pain-filled expression had the big man gritting his teeth in rage. He waited only long enough to be sure that Djaz was in position. "'Scuse me, but I think that'd be ours." Pellorin's deep voice preceded the man's beefy form into the ring of light around the fire, its tone thick with menace. His bloodied sword glinted fitfully as he raised it, the point staring hungrily at the black fabric over the assassin's heart. The enemy started, releasing his hold on Adreina in favor of turning to face his newest opponent. The metallic face he wore may have hidden the expression on his face, but the fear he felt upon seeing the hulking man across the fire was clear in the sudden tension in his shoulders, the slight tremor at the tip of his sword. In another situation, it would have earned him a mocking grin from the Hunter's teammate, but at that moment, Pellorin was too busy watching their fragile captive struggle to draw a breath to enjoy his enemy's discomfort. His eyes narrowed further, and he snarled, "You shouldn't be mistreatin' other people's property, boy. I'm gonna 'ave to question the quality of your upbringin'." Djaz stepped into the ring of stones from closer behind the assassin, then, the sardonic smirk on his face utterly at odds with the icy hatred in his eyes. "Oh, now you've done it. He's not very tolerant of bad manners." The golden mask whipped towards him, the matching sword following it in a graceless and desperate arc. Djaz laughed mockingly and parried, stepping to the side to put himself on more firm footing. The Hunter's counterswing scored a deep line across his opponent's mask, and the shock of it sent him stumbling back over the body of one of his comrades. The assassin landed hard and rolled immediately, narrowly missing the point of the sword that was aiming for his heart once more. Djaz cursed softly as he pulled his blade free from the ground and danced away, watching the assassin regain his feet. He'd managed to put the fire between them, but it didn't present nearly as much of a challenge as Thom's cold body did. The other man obviously knew that Djaz wasn't about to trample over his cousin's corpse to get to him. But then, he didn't have to. Pellorin stepped into the fray from the left, his sword coming down in a powerful overhead blow. The assassin barely saw it in time to raise his own blade, and he was driven to one knee by Pel's strength. He rolled to the side, teasing the campfire's hungry flames with the fabric of his cloak, and came upright again with his sword flying, cutting a line towards the big man's shins. Pel blocked by stabbing his blade deep into the frozen dirt by his foot, and the unexpected impact with the firmly-planted steel snapped the tip off of his opponent's pretty sword. The big man's braid charms clinked together as he lifted his booted foot and landed a swift kick to the side of the assassin's head. He staggered, catching himself against a smaller boulder on the edge of the campsite, and there he stayed for a long moment, dazed so badly that his sword dropped from his nerveless fingers. Pellorin's kick had snapped the assassin's mask along the line Djaz had scored into it, and now half of his face was exposed by the firelight. Both men stared open-mouthedly at what they had revealed. Their enemy's face was every bit as black as his clothing, his skin smooth and slightly reflective, as if it were wet or covered in oil. His exposed eye was an oval of bloodshot white with an island of black at the center, its pupil abnormally tall and narrow as if it were more slitted than round. Milk-white tattoos of unrecognizable symbols literally danced across his skin, writhing and twisting in what looked like a random chaos of lines and dots. Djaz wondered if perhaps these were some of the forbidden forms of symbology, but he had no way of knowing unless they subdued this one and managed to ask. He was pondering that possibility when the confusion left the half-masked man's face. That pitch-black gaze swung across the campsite to where Adreina lay, and Djaz could see the calculation there, the gauging glances that slanted at both him and Pellorin. The two companions side-stepped towards each other as if they'd shared the same thought, putting themselves that much more firmly between their assailant and their captive. They could both see the moment that the man judged the move to be impossible, but whatever pleasure they might have taken in that little successful deterrence was overshadowed by shock and fear as the tattoos on the man's face suddenly froze in place, their lines and curves precisely arrayed. As one, they shied back when the assassin raised his hands and began to chant in a low, garbled voice. "Magic!" Djaz gasped, his blood running cold. He turned and sheathed his sword in one motion, relieved to see Pel doing the same thing. There was only one defense against a noble-born's magic, and that involved a lot more leg action than blade action. They both ran for the darkness beyond the boulders, stopping only long enough for the Hunter to scoop Adreina into his arms. The light of the campsite fell away behind them, but they continued to sprint across the open plains, trying to put as much distance as possible between them and the sorcerer. Who knew how far his spell would reach? Djaz tried hard not to listen to the gravely voice that droned on behind them, but he could not ignore it as it grew in volume and pitch. Suddenly, there was an ear-splitting shriek of inhuman sound that had them all wincing for a few seconds before it ended in a strangely anticlimactic pop. A sudden wind blasted the trio, rushing back towards the stand of stones, and then the brightening pre-dawn air fell back to its natural stillness and silence. The men stopped after a few more paces, glancing at each other questioningly. Each nodded once. Decision made, they turned in unison, staring at the dark shapes of the boulders that marked where they had come from. The lightening sky made it easier to see than it had been at the start of the battle, but the only thing that was immediately clear was the fact that the fire had been extinguished. The orange glow that should have been like a beacon on the grey plain was gone. Djaz glanced at Pellorin, speculating on what that might mean, but in the end, he didn't have a clue. "What do you think?" he whispered, wary of the silence around them. His big companion frowned, hand gripping the hilt of his sword. "I think there ain't much for it but to go back an' find out. Craedi and Thom deserve a burial, magic or no. An' besides, our packs were by the fire." He met Djaz' eyes, his own worry and fear plain enough to see. "I don't think we're 'avin' much choice but to at least look." The Hunter smirked, his gaze going back to the silhouetted campsite. It was yet another facial expression that didn't match the somber emotions in his eyes. "I was afraid you'd say that. Here." He stepped over to his friend, handing him the black-haired bundle of rags in his arms. Pellorin took Adreina without a word, settling her comfortably against his massive chest. She was still semi-conscious, her lashes fluttering against her cheek as she stirred weakly. The Hunter watched her for a moment, all too aware of how small she was, how much she looked like a child compared to the big Kohlani man who held her. With her hair and too-dark skin, it wouldn't have been hard to believe that she was his daughter. Djaz looked at the pair of them and came to that realization with no small amount of discomfort. It felt like he'd insulted his friend with such an unflattering thought - comparing him to the Toi - but worse, it was an idea that was now stuck in his head. The attack undoubtedly bespoke some troubling mysteries that he would have to solve, and he now had a way to disguise his captive if it became necessary. "Keep them eyes open, Djaz." His partner's quiet warning broke the young man out of his thoughts, and Djaz pulled his gaze back up from where he studied the woman's restless features. He nodded to his friend, answering with the kind of eloquence that only men understand, and Pel grinned, reassured, as his companion turned back towards the campsite and drew his sword. The younger man thought about leaving it a serious moment, but he just couldn't resist a final, sidelong glance and a parting quip. "Have fun babysitting, pops," he mumbled with a smirk before he stalked off to face whatever monstrosity magic had wrought.