| Prompt - Dinosaur Bones |
[09 Nov 2007|01:27pm] |
"...Really?"
"Are you deaf? I've told you three times now."
"Ahh...You don't really look it."
Mao lifted his head up from his comic book to glare. He didn't look like it? Almaz's random bouts of intrigued annoyed him. Humans clearly had a skewed sense of time, they barely lived to be 100! How impudent for this human to tell him he doesn't look his age. Then again, Mao considered himself well beyond the intellectual level of those in his age group. He was smart, mature even! He knew the ways of the Netherworld much better than this frumpy, 18 year old human claiming to be a hero.
Eighteen into fifteen-hundred and eighty seven... what was that again...
Eighty-eight! Eighty-eight times Mao has lived before Almaz! Perhaps Mao shouldn't blame him, (but it was such a wonderful pastime of his) humans were short sighted on the matters of respect and wisdom. Hmph! He would have to teach Almaz to respect his master, even on something as trivial as this!
"Fifteen-hundred is a normal and fine age for demons." Mao murmured, his face tucked back behind his comic book, "Your years are but a speck of dust compared to what demons live through. You should be honored, in fact! As my servant, perhaps you'll get to live longer than you thought!"
Almaz's face fell, it was a clear look of disappointment. Oh, how Mao thrived on it.
With a heavy sigh, Almaz started to walk away, "I guess I better start drinking more milk."
"...How did you come to that conclusion?"
He stopped at the door entrance and turned his head towards Mao, "If I'm going to live that long, I might as well make sure I'm healthy. I want to be an example to all other heroes and humans everywhere."
"An example?" Mao snorted.
Almaz's voice, now echoing in the hallway, added, "Who knows, we might be mistakened for dinosaur bones in a museum some day! If kids come to see us, we have to make sure they follow our example, right?"
Mao groaned.
Humans.
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| The Machine |
[09 Nov 2007|12:02am] |
It was a rather strange contraption.
Click! Domp, doop, di do do doooo dip! Sfwish!
"Interesting. What does it do?" Mao inquired as he adjusted his glasses to get a better look at this new device. His attendant, Jiiya, always seemed to find the most curious and absolutely useless inventions to aid Mao. For the most part, they seemed to only cause more trouble than they were worth.
"Ho ho ho, Young Master, it is to help you in your search for a hero. Just turn on the switch and it'll work wonders!"
Domp, doo, di, dap, doo, daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaap.
It would take four more of those before they would get it right.
---
"Hey, Mao?"
"What?"
Almaz had his back turned to Mao. As his teacher, he was teaching Mao on proper hero literature that day. No, manga wouldn't do, not for this. Western comics would get the job done, they knew the essence of real heroes. It was also all Almaz could find at the local Rosenqueen Comic Book Store, anyway.
Curiously, Almaz picked up a strange object thrown between an old dusty morning star and hatchet, "What's this for?"
"What? I didn't tell you to touch anything in my room." Mao mumbled, but he didn't seem to care enough to turn around.
Almaz sighed. Mao was indeed a peculiar student, "This, it's got the words "Hero Radar" written on it."
Mao's pen went down. He leaned on his chair as he turned to face Almaz. A small, devilish smile creeping on his face.
"You really want to know?"
Silence.
Suddenly, this felt like a very, very, bad situation.
"Here, why don't I show you?"
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| The Color White |
[08 Nov 2007|10:29pm] |
| [ |
music |
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Earth, Wind, and Fire - September |
] |
Prompt : Pure White
Pairing : MaoxAlmaz
Game : Disgaea 3
Everything around him told him exactly where he was, the infirmary.
White walls, white bed sheets, white curtains, white everything.. Even Mao didn't seem so out of place here, what with his hair (and rather pale face) looming over Almaz right now.
Almaz's eyes found it hard to focus, even with Mao's relentless and clumsy hands on his body. Although Mao proposed that he was an expert in these sorts of "fields of study", it was clear that this was his first chance at hands-on-experience. Things weren't as easy in the real world as they were in manga and video games. Undressing someone, he had found, was much annoying than it looked. Perhaps, he might have pondered, it would be best to just grab his sword and tear the clothing off.
His vassal, of course, might have fainted in the process. This was something he didn't really want, you see. It was much more interesting when you have a live experiment, it gives a scientist a much greater sense of adventure and exploration.
None the less, Almaz's attention was diverted away from Mao. Mostly out of embarrassment and grief, his eyes focused on the surrounding room for a moment. His jacket tossed to the ground, thrown aside like a cheap toy. He would be upset if it were to get dirty down there. It wasn't like he had much of a choice, it would only get dirtier if it was up here with him.
It was a such nice jacket, too. He picked it out because he thought it would make him look... cool. Heroes have to look nice, they have to impress the princess after a long day's battle with the final boss! A red scarf was an obvious choice for him to pick, it was a color that portrayed courage and valiance. White though... white portrayed many things, innocence, purity, strength... things like that! (Or so he thought) It was such a trusty accessory, too. Not only did his jacket keep him warm, but it also made a statement. A wonderful statement! I'm a hero, hear me roar!
And there it was, thrown to the ground like rubbish. If only Mao would let him move for a moment to fold it up and put it away gently. An option, sad to say, that wasn't going to be fulfilled anytime soon. No good scientist would allow his guinea pig to try to run away in the middle of important research!
Almaz's eyes widened at that moment. He let out a sudden yelp before biting his lip in pain. Mao had taken him by surprise there. The hapless hero clenched his hands on Mao's back, the white sheets below him would only shift with how much of a grip he had at that moment. Certainly, he didn't want to cause the poor healers trouble by messing up their sheets!
...Not that they were to remain clean for long.
White was such a peculiar color. It was certainly everywhere in this room. The infirmary was a strange place of choice for Mao's ... exploration, but it was the first - and closest - solitary place Mao could find during their heated argument earlier.
Today, they argued about what a hero should wear.
Almaz certainly didn't win this battle today.
...
God what the fuck am I writing.
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| Freyja of Falheim |
[03 May 2004|02:03pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 embarrassed |
] |
She looked at the clock, it was five in the morning, no one in the church stirred. She looked weary, perhaps the night wasn't in favor with the young knight's dreams. Freyja fumbled out of bed at that hour, since her knight training she was forced into sleepless nights and long hours, it was somewhat of a habbit for her now.
The outside world was still dark, not that there was ever much natural light in Falheim, but even so, Freyja awoke to a glum world. She didn't mind terribly, she never really does. Freyja yawned and stretched, she was dressed in a simple white oversized pajama when she stepped out into the cold marble floor. She bit her lip slightly, she was used to the cold, but never in the morning. The cold night spoiled her with a warm bed.
The Church was very gothic in structure, its interior had marble floors, tall architectually pleasant arches decorated the ceiling, and Freyja's large metal door creaked as she effortlessly pulled the door open. She tip-toed gently on the floor as the door closed behind her. It was far too early for anyone to be up, she was sure of it.
Its always nice in the mornings.. she smiled to herself as she stretched, the quiet building was lit softly with old century gas lamps, the Mayor of the city seemed to enjoy them, as did their fathers. As technologically advanced as Falheim was, Freyja wondered if living in a Church had not changed over centuries. She had left the knight's quarters now, and had enter the chamber of the priests. The waiting room laid before her, iron cast benches and a single tree were placed in this room. The tree, though seemingly alone, had many young flowers surrounding it. They were planted by the newly appointed Priestess.
She really enjoyed flowers, how strange, Freyja thought, the young Priestess had come from the colder regions of the north, flowers never grew. Never. Why does she love them so much?
The young knight shrugged and looked around the room, she always came early to water the flowers for her new priestess. She spotted an old tin watering can and went over to pick it up. She looked around for the small fountain located in the corner of the room, and trotted gently towards it to fill the watering can. She hummed to herself as it began to get heavier, and heavier, though still relatively easy to carry for a knight.
Finally, she walked over to the tree and the flowers, watching the tree breathlessly for a moment, before carefully tilting the watering can.
"I already watered them," A soft yet stern voice echoed through the empty room. Freyja yelped as she fumbled and lost balance of the watering can, spilling its contents all over the floor. The clatter caused a sharp echo across the room, it felt as if it could wake the dead. Freyja was terrified, no one was supposed to be up at this hour. She noticed she soaked her gown heavily as she caught her breath and unsheathed a dagger.
A young man stood at the doorway to the Priestess's bedroom, he looked up gently. It was one of her bodyguards, Freyja thought as she calmed herself. Machiavelli watched as he caught sight of the glint of her dagger and waited.
".. I didn't mean to frighten you," he whispered, a hard light hit his face as he looked up. He was in the shadows earlier... he must have blended easily, seeing how he's a shadow wizard Freyja thought. "The flowers would wilt if they're overwatered." He looked back down at the floor, he closed his eyes in hopes of getting a few more moments of rest before sunrise.
The young woman recovered her complexion as she sheathed her dagger and looked at the ground. She reacted unproffesionally in the sight of another proffesional, she bowed her head and murmured an apology and she began to clean up. She was more afraid of reprimand from the noise she had created, then from criticism from the young man. She fetched a mop to clean up after herself, and was glad to find no one had awakened from her disaster. She stubbornly put it back and walked up to Machiavelli.
"You didn't have to scare me like that!" She whispered shyly, she was rather embarassed right now, her cheeks were hot and she felt humiliated infront of an audience of the church.
He nodded his head gently and murmured an apology as he tried to go back to rest. Freyja wondered if he had taken her seriously, she was very flustered by now, and pouted slightly.
"Miss Mimir had a long day, dying flowers would upset her," Machiavelli whispered softly, he wasn't much of a talker, and Freyja's features softened as she apologized again.
"Oh.. I didn't know you would water them, ah.. well.. c-could you please tell me next time?"
He nodded and continued to rest his eyes. Freyja noticed the sun would be above soon, she was still in her pajamas and took her leave. She wouldn't want any other men to see her so poorly clothed. She blushed and remembered Machiavelli had looked up once before rushing off to change into her uniform.
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| [ OOT Post x 2 ] |
[18 Apr 2004|08:27pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 drained |
] |
[ Again.. sorry. ]
Subject : Prince Peasley
Game : Mario and Luigi Superstar Saga
Rated : G
Warning : Spoilers for Bowser's Castle
((note : Fawfuls and Peasley's lines are nearly intact from the scene, I felt no need to change them. They were perfect))
( Wounded Pride )
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| [ OOT Prose! ] |
[17 Apr 2004|02:36pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 determined |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Katou Izumi - Taiyou ga Yondeiru |
] |
[ Ah.. This segment deals not with Falheim, but its a piece I've been meaning to tinker with. ]
Subject : Prince Peasley
Game : Mario and Luigi Superstar Saga
Rated : G
Warning : Spoilers for the Near End
( Rose Tinted Pride )
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| Frei of Falheim |
[15 Apr 2004|10:31pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 apathetic |
] |
"Five-hundred thousand."
"Eight-hundred thousand," a feminime voice shot back. The voice belonged to a young woman, she sat casually on a lounge sofa, tooth pick in her mouth, listening and tapping her fingers frivolously as her ringleader stared at her grimly. The middle aged large man flicked off ashes from his cigar before grunting. He glanced at his rightmen, then back at the young woman. She was still slumped in her chair, waiting impatiently for a reply.
"six-hundred and fifty thousand, not a penny more Frei."
Frei rolled her eyes and jumped upright from the chair. She stretched and propped herself ontop of her ringleader's office desk. She gave a small laugh and place her finger on a document. "Ah.. Mr. Welshling," She danced her finger across the document and continued, " Your business has lost millions in two weeks, hasn't it?" Mr. Welshling was emotionless to her talk, "Hmm."
"There's been a rumor about the city.. about you, Mr. Welshling," Frei pulled out an Ace of Spades from her sleeve, "That priestess, she's not good for your business is she? Now now, you know the last one died under.. interesting 'circumstances', wouldn't you enjoy that same luck with this girl?"
Mr. Welshling glowered and cleared his throat, "seven-hundred and fifty, if its a swift and clean job I'll promise you, my dear, an ocean star. Blue is a lovely color on you." Frei smiled and kissed the card before placing it into Mr. Welshling's pocket.
"My my, where did you find a water crystal~?" She gave a dreamy sigh and hopped off the table. She placed her hands on her hips and winked, "So that's where that poor Water Mage disappeared off to." Mr. Welshling looked at her sternly and repeated, "Never ask questions in this business, Frei."
"You're talking to the best of the best," she laughed and waved her index finger tauntingly, "Never try to teach a shoemaker how to make shoes! .... the job will be done by next Friday. I need time to .. prepare. Goodnight gentlemen." She picked up her red jacket from her chair and snapped her fingers before disappearing in a puff of smoke. The headmaster let out a sigh of relief before taking a napkin and patting his balding head dry.
"That woman is a lose cannon."
( Drawing of Frei< )
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| Matilde of Sans Verdeni Coastal Region |
[11 Apr 2004|10:53pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 cheerful |
] |
Verso Dos - Letra a Mama
Allo' Mama!
My days in the city have grown steadily more difficult with so many customers, the business district of Falheim is very crowded and full of competition. I'm very glad to be here though, thank you for letting me come on my own to visit such a beautiful city and pray I prosper as a dancer.. I'm..doing well, to say the least. Its very different from home, the streets are very crowded and dirty, very grey and the sun barely ever shines. It makes me unhappy to miss the blue skies, mama. Home is very blue and beautiful, but Falheim is where dreams are made! (I hope mine are made too.. )
I've been working part time as a gypsy dancer, our group has been making decent money here and there.. I have myself a tiny apartment near the southern region of Falheim. its very small and crowded (with all my boxes!) but it fits me well, I enjoy it!
I'm trying my best to be positive, I've even started my own potted garden, my apartment reaches seven stories! I'm glad I learned to balance and not be afraid of heights in the bamboo forest. Can you please send me my paper fans, mama? Its very cold here, I have no use for them practically.. but I willlike to use them as decorations.
I will write to you once again as soon as I finish getting settled. I am sending some pictures along, I hope you enjoy them! I miss you, mama.
Love,
--Mati
----
Matilde scratched a few typos before folding the letter and putting it under a paperweight at infront of her. No desk had been assembled as of yet, her cluttered wood-cladded room barely had room left to tip toe in, the packrat inside the young dancer had caused her problems in moving.
She smiled and went to work cleaning, her confidence in sucess waned from here to there, but she must put a happy face for her mother, one of the people that believed her. Matilde stumbled on a small bag and scurried to get the room in order, she had much work ahead of her in this city of Falheim.
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| Freyja of Falheim |
[09 Apr 2004|04:25pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 pensive |
] |
Diary Entry - Verso Uno
"Everyday, winter creeps closer to our dearest city of Falheim, the people hasten their pace to come and go, the dreary weather may mirror their hidden anxiety of the times. Around us we hear whispers of people that for a moment were but a breath away... and now miles away. Perhaps they are lost, disturbed, or forgotten.
Do they dare talk of Michaelangelo? Of trivial matters in this day and age? Many are fearful, this city we're fond of has been splintered by the cruelties of the mafia, and the salvation of the church. As snow starts to fall, I ask myself if this beautiful city, with its shades of black and grit, is in it self reflecting the troubles in my psyche, in my very own family, perhaps?"
Freyja gave an exasperating sigh, she picked up her diary and shook it lightly as if to scold it.
"This isn't who I am. "
She tucked a menacing bit of hair behind her ear before returning to her thoughts. It was a rare occasion for the young holy knight, (though she dare not mind!) to recieve days off from working with the Holy Church of Falheim, but as violence became more geared towards the church it was found necessary to use assassins to protect certain members of the church. She had not minded so, for though she's the sacred protector of the newly aquainted High Priestess, she would rather see her rightly protected then feel useless as a protector.
At times the mind penetrates the will of the host, feelings can not be blocked for the most part. The young knight had to compete with two other young protectors, both male. Both of a prestige Assassin guild, one was the highest in the rankings, the other a hybrid assassin. She had only seen them on rare occasions, one she could tell was from a magic clan, he was her main rival.
It was playful at times though, as serious as their work was to protect the young woman of God, Freyja had to still show her worth to the newly appointed guards, she had not come into such a position under wealthy parents, under skipping classes, she had worked tears and blood to gain recognition as a knight, she will keep honor in her job.
Ludovichetti and Machiavelli, surnames were the way of business in this world. No one calls Freyja anything except Freyja, it would be foolish to think that this was the reason the church did not take her seriously, but yet the young woman's mind would not ease its weariness. Ludovichetti, the lethal of the two, Freyja had to keep this in mind everytime he would wink lovingly at her or kiss her hand, a real lady's man the fool was. She didn't exactly dislike their company, they were quiet men, interesting at times. Freyja may not realize that this work is their business in life, nor did she want to think about it.
Machiavelli, on the other hand, was a curious figure. Quiet and very polite, he was extremely shy outside of matters of the guild. He chose few words when he spoke to Freyja, she suspected he felt that she was a magic catalyst as well, his eyes would never meet the person he spoke too. Magicians foreign to Falheim had distinct manners, she figured. One key matter stood out about the more reclusive bodyguard, it was clear as day.
Puppy love. The boy had a crush on her holyness, High Priestess Mimir.
Freyja giggled at the thought, Mimir would be too flustered to notice it, the rather aloof young woman had too much on her hands to notice the quiet reddening face of one of her bodyguards as she thanked him for taking the time to do his work.
---
Writing was beyond the question now, Freyja put her books away and noticed the bell tower chime, half past 11. She gave a light sigh before hopping into bed and turning off the light.
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