Kahuna Burger
First Post
just so you know, I consider my work here done, though ros and mike are free to rp on their way home in this thread. If you need anything from me, email or aim/yim me, kay? Thanks all.
Murder is the Pits
ajanders
Explorer
What, am I the only cleric in this game?
"Sela is a goddess of stone, of the buildings made of stone, and of the builders who make those buildings."
Comprehend Women. There is a prayer to allow you to understand any writing, or the speech of any intelligent creature, and even the stones of the Earth. Why is there no prayer to understand women? (Thinks Michael to himself.)
"A goddess is kind of a bevenolent spiritual parathingummy, but much nicer and more important that that. And less comprehensible."
He opens one eye carefully. It's going to be laughed in.
"Maybe kind of like Mongrel?" he offers warily.
"Only she's already everywhere, so she doesn't get very excited about travel?"
"Sela, Rosalynn." Michael closes his eyes, certain he needs to pray for something to get through this conversation, but unsure of what.Jennileerose said:
"Sela is a goddess of stone, of the buildings made of stone, and of the builders who make those buildings."
Comprehend Women. There is a prayer to allow you to understand any writing, or the speech of any intelligent creature, and even the stones of the Earth. Why is there no prayer to understand women? (Thinks Michael to himself.)
"A goddess is kind of a bevenolent spiritual parathingummy, but much nicer and more important that that. And less comprehensible."
He opens one eye carefully. It's going to be laughed in.
"Maybe kind of like Mongrel?" he offers warily.
"Only she's already everywhere, so she doesn't get very excited about travel?"
Jennileerose
First Post
ajanders said:
Rosalynn ponders as Michael begins to explain. When she hears Mongrel, she perks up. "Yes! Okay...that makes sense..." She says smiling. "Perhaps Sela and Mongrel know each other." She muses, grinning.
She thinks some more and falls silent. "So you get your powers from Sela...does she grant powers like that to whoever asks then?"
(OOC: Pooor Pooor Michael....*laughs*)
Jennileerose
First Post
Patlin said:
(OOC: I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that.)
ajanders
Explorer
Michael takes this perfectly seriously. "Of course she does! Mongrel goes around from place to place watching over the Freefolk, right? How does he do that if not over the ground? It's not like he flaps his arms and flies, does he?"Jennileerose said:
Short pause, then Michael thinks for a moment.
"Well, I never heard you say he did. If you were holding out on me..."
He winks, with ponderous humor.
Jennileerose said:
"Different people would have different answers to that." Michael says very seriously.
"I would say...". He pauses.
"I would say...". He pauses again, and takes a deep breath.
"I should show."
He reaches out and gently takes Rosalynn's hand in his.
"May I?"
ajanders
Explorer
Say yes, please?
OOC(Ros, I make a certain imposition on your character here, but I had a lot to get and wanted to finish it while I was in a flow. If you need to interrupt this, just edit it as is appropriate. Kahuna, thanks for all your time -- Aloha!)
Michael begins to trace the contours of Rosalynn's hand with one thick finger.
"I never asked Sela for her powers. I asked my teacher how I could make a
difference, and he gave me a task."
He slides his palm across Rosalynn's, and she feels thick-ridged calluses on his
phalanges and mounds rasp against her palms.
"He set a dozen stones in front of me and asked me to choose my favorite. I
picked out something gray, flecked with black, maybe the size of my palm. It
looked like a nice rock for something."
He turns his hand in Rosalynn's, brushing leathery knuckles against her
fingertips.
"I should have known something was wrong when I saw the look on his face."
Michael traces Rosalynn's life line with a thick, straight, square thumb.
Rosalynn can see thin white scars on the thumb.
"He told me to polish the stone until it was perfectly smooth and perfectly round,
and then to return to him."
He smiles remiscently.
"I was not happy. I had no tools. I had no money for tools. I didn't know how
to use them if I did. But I went down to the river, got a handful of sand, and
started polishing."
Michael gently guides one of Rosalynn's fingers over his cuticles:thick and hard,
with little divots where they split, resplit, and resplit again long ago.
"And I kept polishing. Granite is a hard stone."
One fingertip circles the tip of Rosalynn's index finger, so callused it feels almost woody.
"Three years of polishing later, I had a dream."
Michael's voice becomes a chant.
OOC(Ros, I make a certain imposition on your character here, but I had a lot to get and wanted to finish it while I was in a flow. If you need to interrupt this, just edit it as is appropriate. Kahuna, thanks for all your time -- Aloha!)
Michael begins to trace the contours of Rosalynn's hand with one thick finger.
"I never asked Sela for her powers. I asked my teacher how I could make a
difference, and he gave me a task."
He slides his palm across Rosalynn's, and she feels thick-ridged calluses on his
phalanges and mounds rasp against her palms.
"He set a dozen stones in front of me and asked me to choose my favorite. I
picked out something gray, flecked with black, maybe the size of my palm. It
looked like a nice rock for something."
He turns his hand in Rosalynn's, brushing leathery knuckles against her
fingertips.
"I should have known something was wrong when I saw the look on his face."
Michael traces Rosalynn's life line with a thick, straight, square thumb.
Rosalynn can see thin white scars on the thumb.
"He told me to polish the stone until it was perfectly smooth and perfectly round,
and then to return to him."
He smiles remiscently.
"I was not happy. I had no tools. I had no money for tools. I didn't know how
to use them if I did. But I went down to the river, got a handful of sand, and
started polishing."
Michael gently guides one of Rosalynn's fingers over his cuticles:thick and hard,
with little divots where they split, resplit, and resplit again long ago.
"And I kept polishing. Granite is a hard stone."
One fingertip circles the tip of Rosalynn's index finger, so callused it feels almost woody.
"Three years of polishing later, I had a dream."
Michael's voice becomes a chant.
ajanders
Explorer
Michael's Dream
"I dreamt I stood on a high mountain, looking down on a fair city open to all,
reaching out to embrace the world, free of fear.
And to it came the people of the world, bringing gifts, and from it came the
people of the world, bearing gifts, so that all the world was fair to look upon
and prospered.
And it was good.
And about the fair city came a dark tide of blood and evil.
The people of the fair city gathered their tools and piled a great mound of earth
about their fair city.
Thus they hoped to hold back the tide.
But the tide rose up and overflowed the mound, destroying a part of the fair city.
And the mountain spoke in a woman's voice, whispering "Earth will not hold."
But the people of the fair city were not defeated, and taking up their tools, they
built a high wall of timbers about their fair city.
Thus they hoped to hold back the tide.
But the tide rose up and overflowed the wall, destroying another part of the fair
city.
And the mountain called in a queen's voice, saying "Wood will not hold."
But the people of the fair city were not yet defeated, and taking up their tools,
they built a great rampart of stone about their fair city.
Thus they hoped to hold back the tide.
But the tide rose up and overflowed the rampart, destroying all but a single
silver tower of the fair city.
And the mountain shouted in a giantess' voice, saying "Stone will not hold."
And the tide rose up again, dark and bloody, to cast down the last silver tower of
the fair city, and the people despaired, for all their craft was nothing before
the evil tide, which overflowed earth and wood and stone.
The people gathered themselves about the last tower and held it up with their
backs and beat the tide away with their hands,
And the dark tide was overthrown, and fell back, and the silver tower stood within
a wall of men and women, weary but undaunted.
And the mountain roared in a goddess' voice, so that all the world shook, saying
"BUILD THOU A WALL. HOLD BACK THE TIDE."
And I awoke.
"I dreamt I stood on a high mountain, looking down on a fair city open to all,
reaching out to embrace the world, free of fear.
And to it came the people of the world, bringing gifts, and from it came the
people of the world, bearing gifts, so that all the world was fair to look upon
and prospered.
And it was good.
And about the fair city came a dark tide of blood and evil.
The people of the fair city gathered their tools and piled a great mound of earth
about their fair city.
Thus they hoped to hold back the tide.
But the tide rose up and overflowed the mound, destroying a part of the fair city.
And the mountain spoke in a woman's voice, whispering "Earth will not hold."
But the people of the fair city were not defeated, and taking up their tools, they
built a high wall of timbers about their fair city.
Thus they hoped to hold back the tide.
But the tide rose up and overflowed the wall, destroying another part of the fair
city.
And the mountain called in a queen's voice, saying "Wood will not hold."
But the people of the fair city were not yet defeated, and taking up their tools,
they built a great rampart of stone about their fair city.
Thus they hoped to hold back the tide.
But the tide rose up and overflowed the rampart, destroying all but a single
silver tower of the fair city.
And the mountain shouted in a giantess' voice, saying "Stone will not hold."
And the tide rose up again, dark and bloody, to cast down the last silver tower of
the fair city, and the people despaired, for all their craft was nothing before
the evil tide, which overflowed earth and wood and stone.
The people gathered themselves about the last tower and held it up with their
backs and beat the tide away with their hands,
And the dark tide was overthrown, and fell back, and the silver tower stood within
a wall of men and women, weary but undaunted.
And the mountain roared in a goddess' voice, so that all the world shook, saying
"BUILD THOU A WALL. HOLD BACK THE TIDE."
And I awoke.
ajanders
Explorer
Under Pressure...
He looks at Rosalynn for a long moment.
"That made it kind of obvious what I had to do."
Michael blushes a little and coughs.
"And I started to do it."
He catches her hand in both of his own.
"But there was a price to pay, and there is a price to pay, and there always will
be a price to pay."
He takes a deep breath and squeezes her hand tightly.
"I have left my home, my friends, and my family."
He squeezes the hand more tightly, driving her nails into his palm.
"I have left the graves of my kin, the home of my birth, the way of my life."
Rosalynn's hand is going white, bloodless, and numb.
"My master said it true: One watches things that make one sick."
Michael locks flinty eyes with Rosalynn and squeezes harder, until a thread of
pain seeps through the numbness.
"This is the Law: no gain without a loss, and!"
Suddenly the pressure is gone, and Michael looks ashamed as he releases her hand.
"Well, that's the law, anyway, and the truth."
He holds his hands up softly: where he was squeezing her nails into his palms
should be blood and strips of flesh, but the calluses are so thick there is not
even a dimple to mark them.
Michael quietly wipes a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.
"If you ask seriously, I think you will be granted. But I do not know."
He wipes away the trickle again.
"And if you are granted, your life will never be the same again. Be very sure you
are ready."
He wipes away the trickle again and this time holds a hankerchief against his jaw.
"Think for a night and a day before we speak of this again. If you still wish to
ask, we will go back to the Big Sky country and the town of Black Rock, where my
master Hanno dwells.
There you may ask, and if you are granted, you will have a better teacher than I."
Michael stands slowly, and offers Rosalynn his hand to go, not able to meet her
eyes.
After a moment, he hesitantly crooks his arm instead, as if taking her into a
dance.
" I will walk you back to the carriage, if you like."
He looks at Rosalynn for a long moment.
"That made it kind of obvious what I had to do."
Michael blushes a little and coughs.
"And I started to do it."
He catches her hand in both of his own.
"But there was a price to pay, and there is a price to pay, and there always will
be a price to pay."
He takes a deep breath and squeezes her hand tightly.
"I have left my home, my friends, and my family."
He squeezes the hand more tightly, driving her nails into his palm.
"I have left the graves of my kin, the home of my birth, the way of my life."
Rosalynn's hand is going white, bloodless, and numb.
"My master said it true: One watches things that make one sick."
Michael locks flinty eyes with Rosalynn and squeezes harder, until a thread of
pain seeps through the numbness.
"This is the Law: no gain without a loss, and!"
Suddenly the pressure is gone, and Michael looks ashamed as he releases her hand.
"Well, that's the law, anyway, and the truth."
He holds his hands up softly: where he was squeezing her nails into his palms
should be blood and strips of flesh, but the calluses are so thick there is not
even a dimple to mark them.
Michael quietly wipes a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.
"If you ask seriously, I think you will be granted. But I do not know."
He wipes away the trickle again.
"And if you are granted, your life will never be the same again. Be very sure you
are ready."
He wipes away the trickle again and this time holds a hankerchief against his jaw.
"Think for a night and a day before we speak of this again. If you still wish to
ask, we will go back to the Big Sky country and the town of Black Rock, where my
master Hanno dwells.
There you may ask, and if you are granted, you will have a better teacher than I."
Michael stands slowly, and offers Rosalynn his hand to go, not able to meet her
eyes.
After a moment, he hesitantly crooks his arm instead, as if taking her into a
dance.
" I will walk you back to the carriage, if you like."
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