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Post by My email doesn't work anymore on Dec 9, 2006 23:01:34 GMT -5
Gah. There was this absolutely pwnful version of Passion from KHII I found and had for awhile with this really pretty bit in the middle byt now I can't find whatever happened to it ;-;
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Post by Deleted on Dec 9, 2006 23:01:59 GMT -5
A list of what, "What Stal has to be in order to hook up with me"?  TA!!! *leaps off of Kiddomasters head onto yours* FWEE HELLO CRYSTAL Yo. FUNNY JELLO *falls off* |
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Post by lunariiku on Dec 9, 2006 23:02:31 GMT -5
Before there was Romeo and Juliet... there was Tristan and Isolde. Two willow trees twined together and then they disappeared forever. Wow... Haven't seen that movie, but if you like the story that much, you may want to look into the opera that Wagner wrote about them. Definitely... that and James Franco is the hottest guy ever. |
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Post by Kiddo on Dec 9, 2006 23:02:38 GMT -5
If I ever make a list of why I love someone please shoot me.
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Post by lunariiku on Dec 9, 2006 23:03:20 GMT -5
If I ever make a list of why I love someone please shoot me. Why? Without love, there is just life and death and shells that hold nothing... |
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Post by Stal on Dec 9, 2006 23:04:12 GMT -5
If I ever make a list of why I love someone please shoot me. But that's just it. She can't mean love love. She can't. We're not going out. We're not supposed to have feelings for each other like that. So this can't be what it seems like. She did tell me that I'm not the only one so to not feel too special. Then told me that I was the first. "You make my heart feel warm and fuzzy. [Darn] you, woman. My heart's supposed to be ice cold." |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 9, 2006 23:06:18 GMT -5
If I ever make a list of why I love someone please shoot me. *snicker* I'm sorry you're confused Stal. That is really confuzzling. >.> That's repetitive and redundant! That's repetitive and redundant! |
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Post by My email doesn't work anymore on Dec 9, 2006 23:08:58 GMT -5
If I ever make a list of why I love someone please shoot me. But that's just it. She can't mean love love. She can't. We're not going out. We're not supposed to have feelings for each other like that. So this can't be what it seems like. She did tell me that I'm not the only one so to not feel too special. Then told me that I was the first. "You make my heart feel warm and fuzzy. [Darn] you, woman. My heart's supposed to be ice cold." If a girl is comfortable enough to admit something like that then she really doesn't feel that way deep down or she was born with an inability to develop self shame ._. |
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Post by Stal on Dec 9, 2006 23:09:42 GMT -5
If I ever make a list of why I love someone please shoot me. *snicker* I'm sorry you're confused Stal. That is really confuzzling. >.> That's repetitive and redundant! That's repetitive and redundant! I really really hope it's just all in good humor stuff. It most likely is, but it's just the latest in a series of things that...oi. Just...oi. And we flirt constantly, too. It's all innocent. All of it. Or so I think. ;____; |
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Post by Ginz ❤ on Dec 9, 2006 23:12:59 GMT -5
I'm so tired... we went shopping and set up the Christmas tree, but I'm SO happy. =D
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Post by My email doesn't work anymore on Dec 9, 2006 23:13:05 GMT -5
*snicker* I'm sorry you're confused Stal. That is really confuzzling. >.> That's repetitive and redundant! That's repetitive and redundant! I really really hope it's just all in good humor stuff. It most likely is, but it's just the latest in a series of things that...oi. Just...oi. And we flirt constantly, too. It's all innocent. All of it. Or so I think. ;____; Meh. That's what Matt had said all those times when he played keep away with my Pointed Toothed Rabbit pl00shie just for the op to trick me into a hug >_> |
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Post by Crystal on Dec 9, 2006 23:16:11 GMT -5
Good humor flirting just leads on to STALYUIBABIES. =DDDDDDDD If I ever make a list of why I love someone please shoot me. D: But it's very sweet when you're reading lists people make about you. |
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Post by Kiddo on Dec 9, 2006 23:18:29 GMT -5
It had been like falling into a river, a flooded tidal current where there was only the pounding of the water and the irresistible pull of the current. He’d nearly drowned, his lungs filling with blood and his body being eaten away by the sheer force of the stream he’d fallen into. It was only will that brought him out, an indomitable will that drug his battered body onto the void of the banks and sent him tumbling through nothingness.
Now he lay in the snow, weak, choking on his own blood and watching the crimson drops drip off his lips and stain the white beneath him. He’d seen this before. Blood on snow. It made him laugh and then he tried to stand. It was far too cold and if he lay in the snow for even a minute he’d succumb and even after all his fighting he’d finally die. He didn’t want it to be like this, not here on a barren wasteland of ice. So he stood and looked and staggered towards the mountains. They weren’t too far. He could make it. He just had to be strong…
He fell after two steps. Curled over and coughed some more, emptying his lungs of the last of the blood. It burned and he tried to stand again and found himself too numb to move. He couldn’t feel his fingers anymore and he felt like was still trapped in that river that was not water, watching distantly as his body betrayed him and his mind slipped away. He looked at the sky. It was bright and just overhead, like he could reach up and touch it, were the northern lights. A thread of color, swaying to its own current and carrying the river along its back.
He really didn’t want to die like this.
Felix paced the hallway. The walls were thick stone and covered with tapestries to ward off the chill. Torches lined the wall and from every room came the glow of a fireplace. Inside, just beyond the cracked door, was a small crowd of people gathered around a bed upon which lay a stranger. The riders had brought him in from the last patrol before dusk. He was a very lucky stranger. Another hour and he would have died from exposure; had he not appeared any sooner the riders would have missed him and he would never have survived the night. Even him and his people, having lived here most or all of their lives, found difficulty with the freezing cold once night fell.
There were footsteps coming down the hall. Soft footsteps, like those of a small child, and lacking the click or heavy pad of boots. Bare feet. Only one person would be crazy enough to come to his keep barefoot. He turned and bowed as the girl grew closer. She returned the gesture.
“Mat,” he said warmly, “Thank you for coming.”
“It is an honor,” she replied, “Is the stranger inside?”
She nodded at the room and Felix moved aside so that she could stand in the doorway and look. The people by the bedside were immersed in treating the stranger’s injuries and did not notice their lord and his guest standing just outside.
“They threw me out,” Felix said mildly, “We all know our duties here. My riders patrol my territory, the healers tend to the injured, and I stay out of their way.”
“Did you at least get a look at him?”
Mat turned to face him. She was small, barely reaching his chest and a scrawny thing, like an orphan left out too long in the streets with not enough food from generous adults. Her hair was mouse-brown and shoulder-length, tied into thick strands with twine. She wore a bearskin over her shoulders and it dragged on the ground behind her. He could see bare legs beneath it, rushes tied about her ankles. She came from an old people.
“Somewhat. He looks young and is certainly not dressed for our climate. Wounded, as well, but I couldn’t tell what from. The doctors will tell us more when they decide I can enter the room again.”
“Have you informed the elder council yet?” Her gaze was bright green and he had to look away from it, staring up at the arches of the ceiling.
“Mmm, not yet.”
“Good. Don’t.”
And she turned and walked into the room. Felix stared, licked his lips, and followed. It was always interesting, calling upon Mat, but of all the Gatekeepers she was the one who could figure out where the stranger was from and what had brought him here before anyone else.
One of the doctors turned as she approached the bed. He started and backed away, crossing his chest to ward off evil. The other three quickly did the same, as did the one woman helping them. She stopped, surveyed them all with her head bowed so that only her eyes showed under the tangle of her hair and Felix quickly intervened before she frightened his subjects any further.
“Is he stable?” he asked softly.
“For now,” one of the doctors, not tearing his eyes away from the small form of Mat. They called her witch or demon when they thought he wouldn’t hear.
“Then leave and let us do our duty,” he said softly and the doctors fairly fled the room. The woman hesitated for a moment and then put her shoulders back and went to stand by the wall. Felix smiled at her and she set her jaw and refused to leave. They always seemed to be the strongest, the women of his keep, and he knew better to argue with them.
“It’s because of you,” he said when Mat’s eyes slid over to the woman and he was careful to use a tongue that only the two of them would understand, “I am their lord and they would not leave me alone in the presence of the fairy-witch and a stranger.”
“I wasn’t going to complain,” she murmured in response and looked over the man on the bed. He was indeed young and rather battered. The blood had been cleaned away and both Felix and Mat could clearly see the stitches the doctors had made to close the wounds. A few clean lines across the body, made in opposing angles. His breathing was steady and after a moment Mat drew the furs up around his body to keep him warm.
“Well,” she said, “Those aren’t claw marks.”
“No,” Felix marveled, “He got those from a blade. We’re going to have to inform the elder council now.”
“Not yet. I want to speak with him first.”
She put one hand on his forehead and Felix snatched her wrist and pulled it away, hissing between clenched teeth.
“Gatekeeper, I respect your knowledge, but we have to inform the council. If he was wounded by a blade than he most likely fought with another Guardian’s patrols and in that case he’s a criminal. We inform the council.”
Mat blinked at him, slowly, like a cat contemplating an unruly dog that had just intruded upon her territory. Then she whirled on the woman standing against the wall.
“You,” she said, her tone sharp, “You witnessed this, yes? Felix has protested my actions as is his right as a Guardian. I’m overriding it as is my right as a Gatekeeper.”
The woman nodded and Mat smiled. Her fangs were like those of an animal, strangely sharp.
“Good. So if you are asked, know that he has done his duty as far as I am allowing it. Felix, I order you to stand down to my decision. I will speak to the man first.”
“The first gods above, Mat,” Felix breathed, “He’s in bad shape. Let him sleep and just let the elder council handle this.”
“If you didn’t want me to help then why did you call upon me?”
And Felix fell silent at this. There were a lot of reasons. Because she was nearby. Because she always had honest advice and there were never any selfish reasons behind her actions. She was confusing, she was unpredictable, but she was one of the honest ones. He just didn’t want to see her in trouble with the elder council again for taking things completely in her own hands.
“I’m just going to find out where he’s from,” she said softly, as if sensing his fears. She probably did.
One small hand went across the stranger’s brow. It was beaded with sweat and his face was pale. After a moment he breathed in sharply and his eyes fluttered for a moment. Mat’s hand did not leave its place and he grew still again, his eyes remaining closed and his breathing staying steady.
“Your name,” she said gently, “What is it?”
“Darrier…” he whispered.
“And where are you from?”
“Eil’gideon.”
She took her hand away. The stranger exhaled softly and fell back into his sleep. Mat stepped back and pulled the bearskin closer around her, vanishing into its depth. She seemed to be smiling and this bothered Felix.
“So,” she said mildly, walking for the door. Felix followed and after a moment the woman followed after him too. The doctors were gathered outside and they pressed against the wall as the Guardian and the Gatekeeper passed before scuttling back inside the room.
“Please tell me you’re going to inform someone next,” Felix said.
“Well, I wouldn’t call it informing, precisely,” she replied, “I’m going to be asking. Do you have a bowl of water I can use?”
He brought her to his study. There was a flat oval of glass supported in a stand against one wall but Mat shunned man-made devices. After sending a servant off she was provided with a plain bowl filled with water. Mat set this on the ground and knelt before it, leaning over and staring down at it. From somewhere within the bearskin she produced a small knife and pricked her finger with it, letting a few drops of blood fall into the water. The red dissipated and then vanished entirely as the cut in her finger healed itself within seconds. The bottom of the bowl vanished and was replaced with a murky void. Mat put her finger to the surface of this and traced something into the water. After a moment it cleared and the image of a man appeared on its surface, his hair and beard gray and his eyes hard. The Guardian of Eil’gideon, Ivdrac. Felix had been his friend, once, before all the trouble on his world started and he grew hard and distant from his fellow Guardians with the fear of what was happening to his people.
“Guardian,” Mat said, her voice turning sweet and demure, “I am sorry to bother you, but I have heard of some disturbances-“
“You can ask later,” the man snapped, “I’m needed at the capital if we’re going to repair this mess.”
“Pardon?”
He sighed heavily. Felix silently offered a prayer to his gods that the man would at least spare them a few moments to explain what he was so frantic about.
“Someone assassinated the high king. Not that I’m sorry to see the scoundrel go but the guards had the assassin cornered and he wound up getting knocked through a window and in all respects should be dead on the courtyard below but his body isn’t there and everyone is panicking. I don’t care about the assassin or the dead king; I just want to see someone with some justice instated as the new leader. There’s no heir, you know. Inform the elder council for me. I don’t have the time.”
“So no one has passed your borders recently?”
“Only a messenger and his horse, which died shortly after they arrived since he was riding it so hard. I can’t spare any more time, Gatekeeper. The spirits protect you.”
“And you,” she said and then the image faded and the bowl of water was just water again. Felix just stared.
“I’ll, uh, inform the council,” he said and edged closer to the pane of glass. Mat’s head snapped up and her green eyes were bright when they met his. Like a wolf’s.
“Do not tell them about your guest,” she said, “Not yet. Trust me on this.”
Felix took a deep breath. She was not ordering him this time. She was asking, which meant that he had to make a decision whether to trust her judgment and risk angering the elder council or to go ahead and inform them about the stranger and risk losing Mat’s trust.
“Fine,” he said, “but I want guards posted on that man. You can order my subjects around so do that for me in return while I contact the council.”
She bowed to him and spun to leave the room. Felix put a hand to his brow and wiped away sweat. Issues of succession in Eil’gideon and a stranger in his keep that may or may not be a criminal. Felix strongly suspected the former as no one was allowed near the lights without a Guardian’s permission and guidance – absolutely no one. And now he had a man with sword marks on his body that had passed through the lights; the obvious answer was he’d broken through the Guardian’s patrols and touched them, for whatever reason, and was now here and thus under the jurisdiction of the elder council. He sincerely hoped that Mat knew what she was doing. She regarded politics as something that other people bothered with and the consequences of ignoring their rules and internal power struggles as something that could not touch her. Mostly, she was right, because despite the wealth of mages to draw Guardians from there were only two Gatekeepers alive and Mat was the oldest of the pair.
Darrier woke to strange surroundings and the sound of someone humming. He tried to move and found his injuries had been stitched and bandaged so he arrested the movement lest he damage the repairs the doctors had done. He honestly did not expect to have been healed. He expected to have died.
“Darrier, was it?” The voice was female and the humming stopped when she spoke. He looked but could not see her form. It was coming from the foot of the bed.
“Yes.”
“No last name?”
He was quiet and she hummed a bit more while he looked around the room. The walls were stone and a fire burned in the fireplace. The door was slightly ajar and he could see the flash of metal in the hallway. They’d posted guards, certainly.
“You’re looking for a weapon now, aren’t you?” the girl said and Darrier snapped his gaze back to the direction of the voice. “Don’t bother. For one thing, you are in little danger right now and for the second, you would never be able to get past me.”
The girl rose. She was so small and so fragile and Darrier saw two knives at her belt, made in a style and decoration long forgotten. He watched her move to a chair and sit in it, her knees drawn up under her chin. Her green eyes were unnaturally bright.
“I am Mat, one of the Gatekeepers. I, too, have no last name and was once a commoner like yourself. Does this comfort you at all?”
“Gatekeeper,” he said, rolling the word around and tasting the significance, “Where am I?”
“Tria. We found you beneath the lights.”
She watched the shock in his face. The confusion. And when she smiled it seemed predatory and feral.
“You don’t understand how this is, do you?” she asked in barely more than a whisper, “You look so young but I think you do not age as normal people do. How old are you, honestly?”
“I-I’m forty-three.”
“I smell blood on your hands. Who did you kill?”
He did not answer. For long moments there was only the sound of the fire and the shuffle and low talk of the guards just outside. When he put his head down on the pillow of the bed and closed his eyes, Mat leapt off the chair and stretched, her arms behind her back.
“I think I know already, assassin. The blood on your hands smells of taint and power. The people will cry you are a hero, ridding them of that tyrant, but the law demands that a killer of royalty must die. In your own land you are condemned to death.”
There was a brief conversation with the guards and then Mat closed the door, locking them out and leaving her alone in the room with the injured stranger. He rolled his head to the side and watched her. She walked over to the fireplace and squatted, one hand stretched out to the flames and they lapped eagerly at her fingers.
“What do you want?” he finally asked.
“Someone who can fall into the river without ever touching the lights is a rare thing, especially someone who can do so unconsciously. Someone who can survive the river without training is also a rare thing. I want an apprentice.”
“I’m not…” he began and the fire cracked like a whip as one of the logs split and he stopped silent.
“A third Gatekeeper. Does it really surprise you so much? Your reflexes are keener, you live longer, you can pass by people unnoticed in a dream world of your own – you must have mastered that art if you managed to assassinate the high king.”
“You know too much,” he finally said and Mat laughed from her place by the fire.
“That’s what I do,” she said warmly, “I know things and I use this knowledge and I protect the worlds from the void beyond the river. You will do the same – do you accept it or not?”
And Darrier nodded.
I honestly don't know if I'll actually finish it this time. It's going to be a lot of Mat vs. everyone else. |
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Post by Stal on Dec 9, 2006 23:18:35 GMT -5
I really really hope it's just all in good humor stuff. It most likely is, but it's just the latest in a series of things that...oi. Just...oi. And we flirt constantly, too. It's all innocent. All of it. Or so I think. ;____; Meh. That's what Matt had said all those times when he played keep away with my Pointed Toothed Rabbit pl00shie just for the op to trick me into a hug >_> But consider the source...this IS Sarah. She's just...well, she's been scaring me lately with the sort of stuff she's been saying. Some of it seems to imply that there's more to things... I mean, hell, last night she was telling me about this new mini-skirt she just bought that is above her knees. I told her I wanted to see it...while it was being worn. After like 5 seconds of fake resistance, she agreed I could see it...but only for a minute and then she was taking it off and changing into something else (I stopped myself from making the obvious comments I could've twisted that into...and gotten away with) I guess I'll find out in Louisville. |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 9, 2006 23:19:29 GMT -5
Good humor flirting just leads on to STALYUIBABIES. =DDDDDDDD If I ever make a list of why I love someone please shoot me. D: But it's very sweet when you're reading lists people make about you. WAIT ARE WE TALKING ABOUT YUI?! |
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