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Subject: .Tarquin. Author: Wytch Hazel [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] Date Posted: 19:42:33 09/01/02 Sun Feeling at bit of ashamed met at the "cat fights" if you will, the youth arches an elligant maw in the direction of another. Taking a ebony scythe, a lone talon begins to etch a simple calligraphy into the hearth, a mindless task to occupy the wtych as she awaited he. Tarquin? May I have a fair word with you? .WYTCH.HAZEL. .the brazen. [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Replies:

[> Subject: .-. Response .-. Author: Tarquin [ Edit | View ] Date Posted: 20:15:43 09/01/02 Sun Having only walked a few strides, he heard her easily and turned to look at her. The wytch. Gracefully he picked up a fair pace and in seconds was before her. His eyes turn down so as to observe this task her talon had undertaken. Smiling now, he returned his level gaze to her face. "Of course you may."

[> Subject: Re: .Tarquin. Author: Wytch Hazel [ Edit | View ] Date Posted: 20:29:40 09/01/02 Sun A careless demeanor swipes over the aimless etchings in the lithe quickly, a crimson flush washing over the usually prim features of the wytch. Offering a warm smile, something sparcelly seen genuinely by the youth, brazen orbs lock with the other in keen interest. I apoligize for my manner before. I do not feel we have fully met; I am Wytch Hazel, son of Raistlin, bourne of Blood and Chocolate. .WYTCH.HAZEL. .the brazen.

[> Subject: .-. Meeting .-. Author: Tarquin [ Edit | View ] Date Posted: 20:47:49 09/01/02 Sun He wisely ignored the flush - which was strangely intriguing on her features - and found himself ashamed of his own, simple speech. "And I am Tarquin, bourne of Isis and son of Osiris." Very quickly he concluded that he would never understand how to talk with such style as the female, and so he gave up in favor of his usual frank friendliness. No mystery, just...him. And the voices, but they weren't at the time around and so he saw no reason to involve them in either the conversation at paw or in his thoughts. "I know your mother, Blood and Chocolate. When I was born she was there to care of my siblings and I. How is she these days? I've seen her around, but I haven't been able to actually speak to her."

[> Subject: Re: .Tarquin. Author: Wytch Hazel [ Edit | View ] Date Posted: 22:48:34 09/01/02 Sun *lol, and my flaw was unnoticed ^_^ ....yeah right* His coolness of speech was intruiging; he shall indeed grow up regal. She had been taught prim in thought,but a toss of a refined maw edited in the happening of a taut bodice to draw plyable, a more loosened and relaxed form than the regality of her usual manner. Well enough; although she has been a little peturbed about the happenings with Common Sense; as I would be as well. A war....what do you think of that? It sounds so vaguely exciting.....but terifying as well. .WYTCH.HAZEL. .the brazen.

[> Subject: .-. War .-. Author: Tarquin [ Edit | View ] Date Posted: 07:25:30 09/02/02 Mon Tarquin wondered what the female might find exciting in war - was he missing something? Perhaps he was. He had never been involved in any war, though born during one, so she might know more about it than he. Certainly he had never asked about it. Now that he thought of it, though, he scolded himself. That was exactly what he needed to start doing. He needed to start asking questions. His eyes flamed with thought of his mistake, but quickly the flames declined. "Yes, it does sound exciting, if it ever comes about. There are many things to do before a war can take place, so many that thoughts of a war may vanish before the appointed time. One of these many things is Queen Common Sense." A faint frown formed. "There have been too many deaths as it is."

[> Subject: Re: .Tarquin. Author: Wytch Hazel [ Edit | View ] Date Posted: 19:15:18 09/02/02 Mon She gave understanding nods of an elegant maw as he spoke, brazen orbs intently locked on him in keen interest. War, was such a barbairic thing indeed; but the lust of it was undoubtedly enherited by her matriarch. I agree. The wytch answers slowly, remembering her sire. I suppose a war shall occur; for Common Sense wants one just as much as my mother, regretfully. I do not know what we shall do, however. Too young to fight, but I cannot stand and watch the elders fall before me. .WYTCH.HAZEL. .the brazen.

[> Subject: .-. Rueful .-. Author: Tarquin [ Edit | View ] Date Posted: 20:38:07 09/02/02 Mon "There is not much anyone can do - not even the elders. I think that war is so much a part of this land, now, that no one individual can halt the blood thirst the majority feels. Only by subduing either side can even an uneasy peace be hopefully won." He shook his head in what was clearly disdain for himself; claws curling in echoing exasperation. "I do not know if I am too young to fight. And yet...I am too young to be truely King, so I must be too young to fight. If not too young, too inexperienced. My mother never had the precious time to teach my siblings and I even how to take care of ourselves. But what shall we do when - if - the war begins? Watch, I suppose. Watch and learn from our elders as they all eventually fall." His young shoulders moved in a weary shrug of acceptance. His own, serious eyes dropped to watch as the claws laboriously loosened and opened. Lifting so, he watched with detached interest as the paw bearing the claws turned palm-up. Carefully, he avoided the female's bold gaze.

[> Subject: Re: .Tarquin. Author: Wytch Hazel [ Edit | View ] Date Posted: 18:55:41 09/05/02 Thu She nods slowly, interpreting his words with a keen interest. A nimble visage darts downward in an abashed manner, interest finally finding in that of ebony scythes extending from armoured limbs. You speak the truth, Tarquin. A mutter escapes the lips of the wytch slowly, but the harpsicord comes alive alarmingly quick. Is it discrimination Tarquin? For an odd reason, the wytch continued to repeat his name as she spoke, adressing in solo. But seeking his downcast features, she softened a deep gaze upon the other. Without breaking a clear echo, the youth continues. That it seems.....my mother, a hardened warrior of these lands....but it is a barbairic, preposterous thing if I wish to continue in her footsteps and fight along side my elders. I do not wish to be foolish, but I do think my part would be shunned, dare I speak it. WYTCH.HAZEL .the brazen.

[> Subject: *lifts upwards* Author: Hannah [ Edit | View ] Date Posted: 19:06:28 09/10/02 Tue > >color=ghostwhite>Feeling at bit of ashamed met >at the "cat fights" if you will, the youth arches an >elligant maw in the direction of another. Taking a >ebony scythe, a lone talon begins to etch a simple >calligraphy into the hearth, a mindless task to occupy >the wtych as she awaited he. > >Tarquin? May I have a fair word >with you? > >.WYTCH.HAZEL. >.the brazen.