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Post by Lou Harlequin on Dec 31, 2007 20:33:24 GMT 8
Eyes fluttered open as the sunlight filled the skies, bringing light to all things around me. The warmth of the sun was nothing to a naked body that had been in the cold overnight. I scanned the area, looking for any landmarks or signs of where I was, and all I found was the open plain and buildings I did not recognize. They were old, stone, eroded with the sands of time and the burning rain that fell from the skies when the Gods were angered. I rose with some difficulty, muscles and joints sore from unknown events.
I walked along the hot stone, moving eventually onto dirt and gravel, before finding a road. I hadn’t had any alcohol, yet, I couldn’t seem to recall what I had done the night before. However, I did know one thing. I was in the open, and I was naked. I had no supplies. I had no form of currency. And thus began my travels. For hours, it seemed, I walked along the beaten road, covering myself from time to time in the grass. It wasn’t until I nearly reached the gates of a foreign city that I heard the sounds. Hoof-beats.
I was sure of it. I turned and looked, to find that there was a wagon, pulled by four horses approaching the gates. One couldn’t say that I was Evil. I was simply doing what I must to continue movement forward. Then again, for the choice I was going to make, I wasn’t Good, either. Nay, I was stuck somewhere between. Slow, calculated movements brought me to stalk him in the tall grass of the plains, and as he came into view, I leapt from a crouched position. Strengthened legs sprung into action, tossing me
onto the man at the reigns of the horses, holding him by his throat. Powerful hands squeezed his neck together, forcing what air he had inside of him to remain put, and denying access to any new air circulation in his lungs. The sounds of him choking and sputtering made me smile an evil smile. Once he was dead, using his arms, I removed him from the wagon, setting him along the road in the grass. His clothes were removed and I donned them. His arms were crossed at the chest and his eye-lids closed, before I
gathered his change purse and took his seat on the driver’s post, making haste toward the town, now. Once I was inside, the goods were left at the stables, and I began to wander. Men drank and laughed while the women tended to their children who played. Others danced and drank right along with the men, surely to be taken home as someone’s “prize of the evening”. The streets were lined with things to buy and the music that was played was rarely off chord. The word “Beautiful,” was all I could say.
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Post by A Muse To Tali on Dec 31, 2007 21:51:26 GMT 8
The festival of Monkeys...A celebration to the Monkey God, Oban. A deity of revelry and decadence, the people of the city used this time of festivities to endulge in joyous celebration of family ties as well as many vices...
"A whore of Babylon..."
She leaned upon the railing looking down at the masses below. From her view point upon the roof top she could see clear pass other surrounding buildings to the temple ruins just beyond the city limits. Beside her was a monkey from a troop that lived at the temple ruins,
"Drunken beasts...excuse me, men...And loose women."
She looked to the monkey who was eatting a piece of mellon, looking as if it were listening, "Why don't you drop that mellon and steal somthing for me?"
A moment pasted with the monkey ignoring it's food and seeming to contemplate her suggestion. Then in a flash the fruit was forgot and she watched as the fur body scurrys down to the streets below.
A minute passed then another, and soon a scream then a yell followed by a chorus of colorful words that would make a season veteran blush.
"Now that's more like it." she murmured softly to herself before something at the gates caught her eyes; a driver with his cart, "The fireworks are here, perfect!"
She stood straight just as the monkey returned all bloody, thought it was not it's own blood. Holding out her hand she received several earrings that were just as bloody, and a couple of rings with the fingers still attached to them.
"You're luck they revere you, now come along, let's see what other things we can stir up." She left the roof top in destination to the driver she spied, the monkey with it's fruit once more followed along.
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Post by Lou Harlequin on Jan 3, 2008 18:37:19 GMT 8
Slow, calculated steps were taken as I swam through the ocean of men and women, raising arms over children, and pushing others aside to allow room for me roam. I made way to a tavern that was open, and stepped inside of it only briefly. The men and women lifted their heads in curiosity as I passed them, though it was mortal instinct. I had made way to the counter and tapped a hand on the bar, ordering a bottle of wine of an Elvish making.
After paying, I stepped back out into the festive world around me, either wanting to laugh or puke at the sights I saw. It was too. . .happy. They were too jittery. Too lively. There wasn’t fear in their hearts, no sorrow, no pain. They were only happy. Dancing and carrying on, loafing about, wasting valuable time. I shook my head, smiling to myself as I spoke to myself in a nearly inaudible voice: “Dance with me in the moonlight, where all
things may become revealed. For until I’m touched by moonlight, my lips will be sealed.” Now, being that I did not worship Oban, I was not too partial in the festivities. However, I hadn’t had enough to drink to be intoxicated. As foot met dirt, stepping over the threshold of the tavern’s doorway, I lifted my head, sniffing the air. I knew that smell. I had tasted what it belonged to, too many a time. It was the smell of blood.
Perfected eyes scoured the streets, moving to where I smelled it from, but the wind was just too damn strong for me to really know. And so, I began moving towards the copper-scent, legs quickening in their pace.
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Post by Tali to A Muse on Jan 3, 2008 20:04:22 GMT 8
The little boy followed quietly behind, he stared in awe at the one he trailed; the graceful movements, the flow of ebony hair shimmering in the light of day, the chimming of thin golden bangle bracelets and the rustle of the clothing upon this exquist being were all a tantilizing sensation upon this little boy. A tear appeared at the corner of the little one.
Was he the only one entranced by this vision that walks among these mortal creatures?...Apparently not, for those who is graced by the passing cannot help but pause in their doings and stare. However, it may be for the little boy, and a few more people, that the vision was the most beautiful thing that they laid eyes upon yet to different others the vision was of something hideously grotesque and appaling.
Of course she knew of her effect upon them; of what they see of her is a reflection of what they loathe and desire deep within their hearts, what they fear and love, what they destroy and create, but all in all she was a muse to acrimony and the Harlequins' own.
The Carnivle was not around these parts at the moment but she was not bound as a harlette would be. She travelled as she pleased and interfers in things as she wills and now her mind was set in making this festival a disaster.
Silently moving along, she let the little boy follow and ignored those who noticed her and as for the monkey that was following her...Well...it was creating its own wake of disturbance.
Here and there, not to far away, screams and angry yells interrupted the merriment. The monkey's fine fur was coated with blood of those it harassed in its quest of gathering trinkets for the Muse. Why was it doing so? How knows, maybe it just felt like it. Even now and then it would return to her and offer up jewerl and valubles, many of which still attached to an appendage of some sort. She would discarded those appendages and hand the trinkets to the little boy.
Near and near she, the monkey, and the little boy drew closer to the tavern in which she noted that the Driver of the cart had pulled up to. You'd think by now, with what the monkey was doing, someone would notice the three and stop them in their tracks. However, this was not the case; when those who have noticed her would soon quickly forget her, like a dream that visits softly in the night it quickly end and is forgotten in dawn's light.
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Post by Lou Harlequin on Jan 30, 2008 23:39:30 GMT 8
I had turned and leaned my shoulder against a post outside of the tavern, my back to the three of them as they walked towards the tavern. Eye-contact was avoided completely, and I spoke to the Muse, a soft voice that was meant for her and her alone. “Muse, lovely Muse. Dine with me this Eve. Share with me the tellings that you will. Prophecies, new and old. Share them with me, I implore you.”
My lips curved at their ends, forming a twisted smile. I turned and faced her now, eyes giving a glow that only the canine bloodline carry. “Tell me, Muse. Do you know what our previous night held for the people here? Do you know of the demons they faced? I have heard rumors and stories already, in the tavern. Men and women afraid of the wolf that walks like a man.
They say that he slumbered near the stone, last night, but no trace of him can be found. You wouldn’t happen to know of him, would you?” A chuckle pushed forth from my lips and it was only then that I noticed a little boy standing in the Muse’s wake. Kneeling, I continued giving him that same twisted and contorted smile, Hell-bent on striking fear into his heart. “Ah. And what have we here? Is this our monster?
Are you the monster, boy? Do you have fangs and fur in the moonlight, and do you fancy the taste of blood, hmm?” Well now, certainly it would have been rude for him not to respond, but I didn’t mind. “Perhaps I should conjure some sword or the guard with their axes and have your little hands and feet cut off. I must admit, it would be rather hard to see where you’re going if they –“ I made a popping noise with my mouth and continued “pulled out your eyes.”
My attention was then averted to the full-grown woman standing before me now, and however feminine it may prove to be, I released a giggle as I saw the monkey hop aboard her shoulder and deliver a set of beautiful ear-rings with the lobes still attached. “So, Muse. Would you dine with me?” I held the bottle up, as though I were toasting her, and began to drink the contents of the bottle.
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Post by Talis Muse on Feb 3, 2008 16:09:58 GMT 8
Drawing upon the building, closing in on the entrance to the tavern, a thick silence fell upon the trio like a heavy fog descending. The cacophony of festive sounds dissipated, fading until it was no more; the humans felt nothing except those near and around the area, unexpected fear and uncertainty would claim them and drive them away. Even those within the tavern would fear to venture out, deciding to slip through the back way rather than come upon the unknown taint that covers the entranceway. A signature vibration, a presence of something more than just a mortal human, hums softly in the air; it is this that the Muse picks up on in the silence. The little boy following just behind her, a tiny hand gripping upon the full skirt that the Muse wears, hears nothing but silence.
Coming upon the figure leaning on a post, back toward her and the two, she came to a stop several feet away. Instantly, that which she heard, all that she felt, knowledge received and gained told her that the man leaning upon the post is the one with the unique signature vibration. This is a wolf among the sheep of this festive town. The Muse remembered the very first of this man’s kind; a memory that brought a soft smile to her lips for a second before it slipped away. Hearing his soft words meant for her alone caused a brow to perk up; now how and when did this creature come by that soubriquet? No one but companions of hers has ever called her a Muse and what business did he have asking for knowledge that only a chosen few were privy to, did he think himself as someone special to obtain such knowledge?
The Muse remained silent; the irate feeling that came after the brash boldness of his request was sent forth into the throngs of people drinking themselves into a stupor, or jovial state, with in the tavern. Rage was felt in every person within the building; those whom were already angry would feel it the most. A brush of a cloth gently across a hand, nothing but the barest of touch, and an eruption of hostility spilt over the edge of sanity, it would soon spill onto the back streets, away from the entrance. Later that week, this tavern brawl and street fight would be over shadowed by a greater tragedy upon holy ground within a town far from here.
Despite being irate, the Muse’s outer appearance was nothing but a blank slate as she watched this man turn to face her. Idle hands laid at her side, her form as physical as any on this mortal land; fair skin, ruby lips, shadowed brown eyes and long wavy hair as dark as ebony tied back with a lacy scarf. She wears the clothing of a young maiden gypsy, one who lay dead to the world among the corpses of her caravan family not to far from this town. She took on the image of that dead girl; of course this is not her true form but it is one she is willing to hold for now. Silence, again, was her reply to the next string of his words.
The little boy that followed since he first laid eyes on her, taking hold of her garment without realizing it, felt nothing of the rage that fell upon his fellow men, nor did he feel the fear or uncertainty that the fog of silence brought with it. To the eyes of man, they could not see the little boy or the lovely woman and the strange monkey with them; invisible were they all to this corporeal world save for one that now face the trio. The Muse made certain that only mortal men could feel the rage, fear and uncertainty, leaving the three with her unaffected; a testament to the precise control that this Muse has on Life’s darkest side.
Now he looked away from the beauty before him, this little boy, and laid eyes on the man who addressed him. The little boy listen none to what the man said, always his eyes would shift to the Muse in her gypsy guise before falling back to the man; how can fear be instilled into one that isn’t listening? It was probably the reason why the boy had not spoken a word in response. The Muse calmly watched them, then brought her attention back to the man as he did to her; heard him ask the same question in the beginning and this time she spoke,
“What do you wish to dine on, garoul?” in the dead maiden’s voice, she addressed the creature with the old French word for ‘werewolf’. The Monkey upon her shoulder dropped all it could carry, jewels and golden trinkets bounty, to the ground; the little boy fell after them, gathering them like the greedy little street urchin he is. Brown eyes shifted down to the boy, “Flesh and blood or the tortured souls freed from earthly bonds?” the words were whispered as she gently pets the curly mass of hair atop of the boy’s head, his greed intensified through that touch. At this moment, people lay dead or dying as the rage taint took its toll upon back alleys of the streets.
All the other questions asked of her were ignored; if Darkness wanted to keep its secrets then Darkness kept is secrets and reveals to no one.
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Post by Lou Harlequin on Feb 6, 2008 20:26:21 GMT 8
Ears perked as I heard the clatter of men begin to take one another into alley-ways and cellars. Skulls were pounded with fists and the scent of the blood that wafted to my nose spewed from their lovely skin. “I consider myself not high, my lady. Do not confuse yourself. No, I simply hear what most cannot. I see what most cannot. I even feel what most cannot. Have you felt this? Have you heard the screams of the ones you have yet to approach…
or seen them weeping from afar. A lovely thing it is, the feeling of all of this. And the smell. Oh, that lovely smell of fear. Who could forget that?” I turned once more, placing a hand on the post that I had leaned against and lifted my right arm which still clung to the bottle. “Watch them all. Do you not see them? They are cattle…and I…well. I believe that we know where I stand amongst them.” Her words were harsh, aggressive, and with intent . . . I liked it.
I gave what could only be a full smile and moved my hand, showing her all that lay before us. “Ah. Yes. I see that we have in fact had our stories, haven’t we?” The bottle was moved to my lips and I took another drink before eyeing the little boy again. Such a sweet, innocent thing he was. Much like we, standing in between good and evil. In truth, he knew no wrong from bad, and was surely an asset to someone…somewhere. “And you alone, why, you carry
the most peculiar scent of all.”I spoke these words as I looked from the boy to make eye contact with her. This wasn’t a challenge. It wasn’t a threat. It was a simple Lou ‘Hello’ to her. “And I implore you to tell me how you and your theatrical, miniature beast-of-burden are any different from me. We enjoy the same thing, you and I. Do not confuse us. Do not separate us. Though separate, our minds still think as one. You love to hear it just as I. Their screams.
Do you not wish for them to echo throughout the night? The look of horror on their face while they are waiting to die by your hand.” Eyes had closed as I spoke and again, I took another drink from the bottle. “Or are you weak?” Sharp, stinging words as my head snapped in her direction and eyes suddenly opened. “Don’t tell me that the feeling of their skin tearing beneath the tips of your fingers isn’t the most wonderful feeling. You would be lying.
You know it just as I know it. There is nothing better.” I turned my body to her now and began to walk towards her. My left hand held the bottle while my right moved up, just away from her face. I waved my hand in the air as though I were brushing my hand on her cheek. “But we have no been properly introduced, have we?” Taking a step backwards, the right hand spiraled in the air twice before coming to my chest as my upper body lowered in a bow.
“I am, to some extent, Lou Harlequin. Always a pleasure.” Lips parted and curled at their ends into a smile as my head rose, enabling me to place her once again in my sight. There was something about her…something that wouldn’t let me take my eyes from her. I wasn’t sure of what it was. “Tell me a story? I could hear all of your words and only need to touch you once.” Words trickled here and there, which caused the sentence to be slightly broken.
I wasn’t toying with her. . .wasn’t mocking her. It was simple truth, and the truth was that I did in fact have sight beyond sight. A single touch of her and she would speak to me in ways that any other would find incomprehensible. The curse, but the sweetest of dreams, to be sure. “Aah, yes. Do you hear it?” I leaned back onto the post once again, resting my head for the moment. Eyes fell closed and I took another drink. “Listen closely, you’ll see.”
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Post by wowposter on Nov 2, 2008 11:56:15 GMT 8
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