You'll know

[James V]

he chuckles a bit reading this, as his eyes gaze upon the wording, earlier then usual, proven by perhaps the smell of a rare thing with him, coffee, though that all to different smell of whiskey lingering in the cups froth, oozing out around him and upon the parchment, a hazzelnut vanilla with a touch of whiskey

My folk I know are to damn picky and insist on knowin' every damn detail of my life, its rather enjoyable watchin' 'em throw things at my feet, free drinks, tryin' to drive it out of me, hehehe, hmm, your thoughts always carryin' in my heart, gods know now I'm bein' soft though I am aswell as mine with you, hmm, lots of plannin' you say, I still don't know what it could be for, but I'm game. You tell me what I need to get, perhaps a list of things, and when we meet again, We'll figure out whats left to get, aye?

 

[Elf_Ariel]

She had always loved the smell of him, the way it lingers with his words. For a moment, where she stands, before she's even read she closes her eyes and soaks up the sensation of knowing and feeling him there e'en after he's gone. She smiles gently, then opens her eyes to read, a gentleness in them, that's reserved for a rare few.

Picky, oi. I'm ruined! They'd pick me to pieces in an instant. But no doubt, they're not the first nor the last to disect me. Some truths are best left unspoken. It's sweet, to know they care so, and to know they're much addicted by your personal life. I wonder what it will take...who it will take, to extract this one name from your lips. That indeed makes me curious. Or more the hilarious, one of these days I shall stand before them, face them, and speak and show. But to see the surprise then loathing in their eyes. T'would be funny. But well known is it, that I have a wicked sense of humour. A list of things, aye, so I shall make, and we'll plan together, you and I.

 

[James V]

he pauses, reading carefully, letting out a soft smile as his eyes linger on, pondering the people who come searching for who she is, her name, things of that element in nature, wondering almost why so many have never seen them together, and so few who have, never questioning, almost a silent smile perks upon lips, as two people next to him read, his fingers lightly caressing each word, asthough writting out with her, upon each letter, tracing them out slowly, he begins a light hum, something just different, as he begins to pen a responce, his lips curled into a full tranquil smile.

Aye, we shall, a grand thing it will be, hmm, a dash of this, a touch of that, I'll be around, remembering you, always thinkin', never forgettin', always with a smile. Indeed, indeed, you are truely special to me, no one can take the place of you either, its reserved as is my smile, some times, I ponder late at nights where we are in life, though I never question, The answers will come along as they should be, hmm, I need to be simplified some time, the complextion of lifes antiquities, almost reborn in these eyes, things just seem different, Not really sure, nor how to explain it, though they do indeed.

 

[Elf_Ariel]

She laughs, at the thoughts left here, by him, by her, by others. She'd only ever come when she was alone, and yet in many ways she knew, could feel that other eyes had read, had pondered these words. Perhaps not in the light she sees them, but in their own amusing sense. She leaves them more to ponder, more to dwell on, to stew over.

A grand thing? I'm not sure how grand I might be, but aye, there will be many grand folk there, some old, some young, and perhaps some borrowed too. It will be a celebration I suppose, though hopefully for those who participate it is remember as fun and enjoyable. Maybe remembered fondly, as I do times with you. Your eyes, reborn to a different perspective, a little of mine perhaps, and a little of your own making. Gives you a fresh lease on life, to see things that you never have before doesn't it? Such a curious thing, one simple idea can change everything, as a ripple the surface of the pond. You are making waves now; beware who you wash over.

 

[James V]

he chuckles some, reading the post, then begins a post of his own, pondering a bit.

Ripplin' across the water, I'll make a wave of style and splash with the charisma of a simple laugh, echoing out, your writing seems to be different now that I read, perhaps you were busy when you first posted by now, you seem to be more so...in control, perhaps enjoyin' life a bit more, mayhaps you've noticed in mine, so I've to find out on this subject of woman's sensativity....mayhaps a woman as yourself who studies, will explain to me what it is, mostly though that is an afterthought, save a dance for me aye?

he smiles a bit, standing there, then slowly pricks his finger, and inks a bit of blood on the paper from his finger, then smears out a very very primal lookin' design, he begins smoothing out the dried blood with his pen til it is completely dried then drawing in, with a warm smile, he begins a post

I miss you...

 

[Elf_Ariel]

She chuckles as she ponders his words, amused and pleased. She studies the words, and the scent of his blood, closing her eyes. None would know just how hard she bites her tongue. As her eyelids flicker open, the blue has returned to normal, the calm contemplation returned. She leaves behind.

An awkward hello
Follows a difficult goodbye
Too much time spent
Searching for those perfect words

Until we meet again...
A piece of my heart
Will always be with you
Begging for your soft touch
Pieces of my thoughts
Will always be with you
Begging for the answer...what if?

Perhaps it was written with you in mind. Such words, such thoughts cannot be undone. Perhaps I'm less in control, but more content with living anyways? If you've need to find a woman's sensitivity, to learn, I will endeavour to teach you...but for whom do you take these lessons? Save a dance for you...the first is yours.

She draws from her pocket a most curious gift, the stone black as the night, and polished 'til is shines as a star; shaped as a Rose, carved, though it seems so natural.

 

[James V]

his eyes sparkle lighty, almost glistened over, not sure what brings a man on the verge of tears, nor what they are from as his lips curl, fingers cascade gently across the workings of Ariel, bowing his head to complete silence, closing his eyes, and beginning a small pen

I'm waitin' for you, always. I'm here with you aswell. I do not think I can find it in myself to express in words these emotions rambled up, its a total nirvana of feelin's, so difficult to explain, almost maddening perhaps, always thinkin', always waitin', yet always satisfied to know, you are here, I still remember many things, hard to forget, but even I am overrun by thoughts of such promise, stability is a thing of ease, I'm ready to retire, and go home, where ever that may be, with you, yet I'm not even tired, I'm more so energized then ever.

Questions are an odd thing, aye? Think about the answers, perhaps some one will one day figure out a way to reverse it for the greater good of mankind, mayhaps profit from answering the answer with a question, but to know the answer, where does the question develope from, truely a riddle I believe in life, where it begins, to the ending point is set in stone, but between is the answer, followed up by two questions, one answered, the other one paused, set in that stone, and stored away, to be pondered up for another day.

he quietly and oddly enough tacks his hat up to the wall in a strange manner, under the circled brim that branches out all the way around the hat, something seems to be stitched in, a wording perhaps.

He ponders for a moment, before beginning to write in, a bit of blood, of his own, his name. To my Rose, Her James.

 

[Elf_Ariel]

The moment she spies the hat she rushes over. Like a treasure to her, she handles it carefully, drawing out the pin and donning it with a chuckle. She doesn't mind that it's big, or unusual, for she is not one to care much for what others think. Instead she spies the writ 'neath the brim, perhaps having scented it 'fore reading. She chuckles then, and gathers herself long enough to leave a note behind.
Dont ever forget your memories. They are who you are, and who you are meant to be. If they are taken from you, search for them, until there is no more energy left in you. No one can define who you are, except for yourself. In your own mind, how you witness yourself, is how others see you when they spy your eyes. So smile, let those eyes sparkle, and let them wonder where the life in the comes from; unknowing that it's inside you rather than inspired.

As for questions, well, some might say I ask too many. But it seems my task is to search for answers... perhaps not for simple things, but answers to those questions which most folk are too afraid to ask. Maybe that's why I am feared and hated; or perhaps that's just a racial thing. It doesn't matter much, because some eyes see beyond; though you cheated, you had your hat to help you!

 

[James V]

his eyes pass by with amusement and a light chuckle, beginning to read upon, then immedietly responding.

You're just frightenin', that frightenin' aye...so do tell, oh please do tell, exactly now, where the lines of good and evil cross, that grey area, you see, tis my hat, and we'll meet that, it's my favorite hat, to my favorite person, take care of him, he likes to keep heads warm, and his secrets are rather fun, you'll figure out where I am, I figure you can see beyond what you expect, perhaps you have time to aquire understandin', so as I sit here today, I've seen a pissed off Fatora yester eve, tis rather a frightful sight, that is truely fear, aye? Hells hath no scorn like that of a womans.

Over the hills yonder by the bay they say you'll be able to rest, I finally figured the expression out, I'll have to tell you it some time, aye?

 

[Elf_Ariel]

Left behind her words of flowing script. They place as her mind thinks them, order enough to her thoughts that they be the simple treasures they are to some, and the horrors they are to others. She worries not. Instead she leaves it to those eyes persuing to debate which is which.

Perhaps you can whisper it, like the secrets in my ear...as this hat reveals secrets.

By now, I'm sure you've realised, how very grey I am. Such that one particular lass even calls me by such. An odd sensation, but sweet all the same, for I know there's a fondness to it. Much the same as you and Rose, too few know my birth name... Perhaps it is meant to be that way. But many might soon know it; a Passing reveals many secrets. Poor Fatora, such sweet lips with a devilish tongue behind. She's a woman that's hard to match, most often simpler to stand in the shadow... I respect and adore her, make no mistake... her charm works well on me it seems. Much like yours. Maybe 'tis a failing of mine...that I shant change for the worlds!