A Place Where Time Stands Still [Private - GM Maddyn]

[Albossk]

Timestamp
Early Morning
Fifth Brightening Of Immanis
Spring of Era XI
In the Age of the Darkening (yes STILL)

There are a few rules to serenity. First and foremost involves company. Young Vlad, in the past, had not been a very welcoming bedmate to serenity. To the calm and simple life. His flamboyant (and sometimes tasteless) had landed him in trouble, more often than not. Though nothing a slick sleight of hand or well-though out plan couldn't handle, Vlad had danced with death. Strangely enough, she wore a green dress and went by the name "Hazudar" most of the time. That orc, that big lummox, had been like his own personal devil, always sitting on his shoulder (I'd pay to see that) and telling him to do naughty things. Of course, Vlad knew the orc would much prefer it in his lap, but even he wasn't stupid enough to let an orc get that close to his genitals.

Then again, it had given him an excuse to take a vacation and do some...writing. Yes, Frigid River, the picture of serenity, was the perfect spot to kick back and do a little "creative writing". His true passion, above even stealing folks blind. Unfortunately, his creativity often times waned. This, in turn, led him to seek out...inspiration, and this, in turn, led him to the gaol. Apparently sneaking into women's bathhouses, spying on people and stealing underwear is illegal in the empire. Who would have guessed? I mean, it's not like they specifically set up signs that say women only...

...Except for those big signs that say "WOMEN ONLY" in big bold words. His excuse had been he couldn't read. Sometimes Vlad isn't very bright. We like to call this being retarded.

Clad in a black halter-top and little else, the wirey human sat cross-legged, upon a rock so perfectly designed for sitting contemplatively upon, one couldn't help but stop and sit contemplatively cross-legged upon it. In his lap was a scroll, all thrown out and quite long. Next to him sat an inkwell, rather large, open, and well within arms reach. This human, a charming lad with right queer emerald locks and cherry eyes and skin dark enough to not get a seat at Dennys...this human, who rarely could sit still for more than a minute...contemplated. Crossleggedly. The quill pen in his hand had never been used before, and seemed to be almost brand new. Probably stolen. Just like all the other papeteries, but then, since when had Vlad ever bought...well...anything? It was downright immoral and highly against his code.

A chill. Riding a gentle breeze, it ruffled his hair and caught his spine. He quaked, but didn't quiver, knowing how foolish he must have looked to be out and about so scantily clad in so chilly of weather. His pants, leather, were only mildly warming and didn't save him from the occasional gusts. Spring, it seemed, came slowly to Frigid River. Snowplots lined the ground, frost covered the trees and his breath escaped him in heavy, visible waves. It all seemed too surreal. A sleepy little town, fighting off the last hurrah of winter, struggling on into spring. The place, he figured, was probably downright beautiful in full blown winter.

Tipping back his hat, Vlad cocked a chuckle, lost in a daydream of the creature he was about to unleash upon the world. He did that alot, to no great surprise. Daydreaming like a schoolboy before recess, the rogue had never been one for let his dreams slip away. He'd always been one to grab them, shake them and throttle them into submission. Unfortunately for the part of him that liked to stay out of the gaol, his dreams were mostly wet.

Chuckling gently in that boyish kind of way, the kind of boyish that only a rogue can muster, Vlad couldn't help but ponder his next step. In a city that cherished, above all else, tranquility...the possibilities were utterly endless. The best part? He hadn't yet been forced to do any modelling. No wanted posters plastered all over town. Though he'd admit he looked like quite the badass leaning next to one, they did sort of make it hard to get good and hammered.

Bounty hunters could be such opportunists. He knew. He used to be one.


ooc: sorry for taking so long. had computer trouble followed by pneumonia.

[Maddyn]

Spring, the Snowmen that had launched their assult against Frigid River had come and gone. Their passing however had left at least one marking trait upon the population and that happened to be that any Faerie's with a tendency to wear crimson stockings about their head like a bandana had some serious issues and needed to be avoided. 'General' Willow de Wisp, Hero to children and a general pain in the rear towards everyone else. Oh, and one time meal to the Shadow Knight Avanthar Dra'Aran and personal pestererer of Queen Sharinya S'alvia.

Willow got around a fair bit, life was boring if you stayed in the same spot for too long and right now the Faerie was enraptured with the current oddity before him.

For one thing, he was rather sure people couldn't have green hair. Oh sure some Elves had green, blue and purple hair... but really, it was a touch funny looking. Sure as sure Vlad had a certain wirey, scrawny look about him as far as the Faerie Boy could determine but the lack of a definete point to his ears allowed for reconsideration. Elves for one were rare in Frigid River, there was Lord Heron, and the Lady Dallandra and... there was House Shu'syinwea. And the few Esh'lahier who remained... but for the main, Dwarves and Humans were what one expected to see within Frigid River.

The aftermath of the War in Winter, yet again, had left Willow changed. For one thing he wasn't stuck in a body curiously like a certain story about a wooden boy with a tendency to have a really long nose when he lied. His Vis had returned to it's former strength, and so he'd shapeshifted and forced his body to return to how he once had been. Six inches in height and bronzed, Willow de Wisp wore very little other than a hipwrap about his waist. His feet were muddy and his tiny little face wore a look of boyish innocence. A grin that threatened a dislocated jaw, and messy brown hair with a tiny flower behind his right ear. his bead necklace had been stolen by Lord Dra'Aran, the meanie.

Fluttering behind Vlad and hitting the ground softly with barely a sound, the little Faerie commando rolled behind a tiny rock and spun around. Digging into his hipwrap suspiciously to remove a strip of red cloth which was promptly tied about his head kamakazee style. This required style.

"Awright... Mission commsign Delta funnybugger Mark IV." Willow stated, in utter seriousness before spinning about and rolling to the side of the stone, bouncing to his feet and jumping up. His wings fluttering almost instantly as he dashed directly at Vlad's shoulders and spun left before breaking and going right - hard. And directly at Vlad's ear with a cry of "Ooooh, what's da pretty picture!!!"

OOC:
No worries.

Cheers, Maddyn

[Albossk]

The funny looking human had never denied his oddity. A barbari and an outsider to Alleria, the traits that he shared to Allerian humans where along the lines of "round ears" and "smooth skin", from there the similarities pretty much ended. Then again, the human had never really been one to talk about his past too much. Even to Hazudar or Elle, he'd always kept this secret, instead rambling on about, quite literally, nothing. Though far from simple, his life had become a kind of carefree monotony, one that held no confusion in direction. The only way, of course, was always just straight ahead. Grinning as he peered through the trees, Vlad bent back over, scribbling furiously on his little parchment.

Just then...he sensed a disturbance in the force. Knowing full well the differences between a gust of wind and a gnat, Vlad seemed hesitant to investigate. A bit on the lazy side, he usually just allowed whatever happened by to sting the crap out of him and wander on. Too much trouble to seek out the little bugger, swat him and go on with his business. That said, whereupon rummaging through his little satchel full of parchments and inks and pens and "inspirations", Vlad couldn't help but get the feeling he was being...assaulted against. Needles to say that was a pretty new sensation, as it was usually more along lines of accosted, mugged, beaten or raged against. But full scale attack? Something didn't quite settle right with that one.

With the speed of a poorly drawn mexican mouse wearing a giant sombrero, a dark hand shot up, slapping the side of his face with an idle look. Had he known it was, in fact, a winged midget fluttering about his face, he'd probably of whacked a bit harder(okay, a lot harder). Winged midgets were not things he wanted fluttering around his face, no matter how commando they happened to be going! The only person going commando that close to Vlad was usually Vlad himself. Yawning, the scantily clad thief rubbed that gloved hand along his face, looking very suddenly very annoyed.

"Hell was that..." came the low grumble from a young Vladamir, the expression on his face resembling one who'd danced one too many elven leaf dances.

ooc: bleh, sorry for crapness. finals have me withering for another week or so

[Maddyn]

Willow however was persistant with the task even if Vlad seemed rather inclined to ignore his question. Barely missing Vlad's swipe to remove the insistant 'gnat' from about him, Willow hovered there behind the Barbari trying to determine just what next. Biting his bottom lip thoughtfully and frowning, the expression the Faerie-Boy wore was one of absolute thought as if Vlad was an enigma that needed puzzeling out. It hadn't quite occured to him yet, that some things required a bottle of vodka to make sense.

"Green haired git." Willow muttered softly, slowly drifting down to the ground as he stuck his tongue out in utter indignation. It was a bad show of manners, his sister Celeste made a thorough point of letting Willow know that whenever she caught him. Miss Kena though had never seemed to mind, neither had Sharinya or Bink... Morsefal though hadn't quite liked the Faeries idea of a bath. Or so he'd gathered. Claiming a tiny stick, it was little better than a thorn really within both hands Willow's mind was set.

Some things needed a little attention drawing.

Rising once again, Faerie logic was always utterly impeccable. Candy being the rationale and if Vlad wouldn't do him the curtesy of answering Willow's question then he'd just have to grab the man's attention. Mebbe then he'd be nice and even give the Faerie-Boy some of that funny gold stuff that he could use to buy lollies or even a toy from the Dwarf Ahira. Mebbe.

Mouth set in grim determination, this time Willow aimed the little stick like a lance. Rushing forwards a loud (for a Fae) "What. Are. You. Doing!", stressing each and every word as he went to stab Vlad in the ear... well, poke, and then continue hitting him around the ear until he listened. Potentially risking blubbed to death by a six inch Faerie bent on questioning, there might be worse ways to go. Like being whipped to death with scented shoelaces.

OOC:
No apologies, that's fine. ^_^

Cheers, Matt

[Albossk]

It had been a long-standing policy of the Vlad never to deal with faeries. They were untrustworthy little buggers. Strange creatures, though he really had no right to call anyone strange, and they definitely did not obey the laws of physics. Longstanding rules notwithstanding, when the human felt a prick, his reaction had become standard; "Hazudar? Get that away from me.". This time, things were a little different, with the advent of solitude. Or supposed solitude. He flailed at the sound, like a little miniature person in his ear. Funny thing about that.

He fell from his rock, most ungracefully I might add, into a lump that most resembled a pile of arakmatian camel droppings. Slithering to his feet, he shouted in the direction of the voice, shaking his fist, not even really knowing what the hell it was he was yelling at. Just yelling was enough, for the moment. Strange occurrences, he'd come to expect. Ancient dangers, katta pornography...it was nothing new to him. But a fae getting stabby? Well, there was a new trick.

"Ehh? The question... is what are you doing, you little weirdo." he said, scratching his chin. Again, he had no right to be calling anyone names. Especially not with such a hefty repertoire of weirdness in his own right.

Truth was, he just didn't like being snuck up on.

[Maddyn]

It probably was a little much for Vlad to be the one issuing insults regarding just how weird a person could be, but then Willow didn't think much of it. Certainly not as he giggled out loud when Vlad fell from the rock after his ever so brilliant attack (in his mind at least), and collapsed there on the ground in a heap. Waving the stick in front of him like a sword, the little Faerie Boy looked like a remarkably bad actor playing the Hero in a melodrama just after having smote the Villian and was now in the process of working out where the nearest Damsel in Distress was situated.

"Well, you big weirdo I was trying to see what it was you were doing Mister because there's nothing to do over in the town 'cause everyone's being all boring and stuff. An Dalla's off teaching some silly old fogey about Mystik'cism.... his name's Mister Pervan and then there's Miss Queen Sharinya but she hadn't been near by home in ageeees. Not since Bink and me attacked her Dragon named 'Aaaaaaaaagggghhhh!!! 'cause his boogers tasted like suger." Willow rambled on, and somewhere along the way it seemed Vlad was getting the Faeries life story. Or at least a small part of it, it just depended on when Vlad found a way to shut the Faerie Boy up once he'd gotten started.

Fluttering backwards and forwards with the makeshift sword still held within his hands, Willow flashed a cheesy smile with far too many teeth revealed. "Soooo.... anyway, cause Dalla's off being 'sponsible and Shari's not about then I'm right here and trying ta figure it is what you're doing Mister... you know.... your hair looks a little like someone went and sneezed in it... it doesn't taste of suger by any chance now Mister?" Willow asked with a trace of suspicion, now here was the dangerous aspect of meeting with Willow de Wisp. Getting inbetween him and candy was about as sensible as walking up to Valerian Constantine with a trout and trying to slap him to death with it.