Chance Meeting [Vala]

[Hawk]

Day 22, Spring, 511 AV

The courtyard of the sky, one of the social center’s of Wind Reach and the Inarta people. This was the grand amphitheatre where festivals where held the year round, where traders met yearly to trade wares from all corners of Mizahar and also where the finest actors, musicians and entertainers enthrall the crowds of Wind Reach in grand spectacles of skill and wonder. Yes, it was indeed one of the finer sites within Wind Reach and one of the least likely to be forgotten, its unique design painting a picture that could never be forgotten. The courtyard was built with great platforms of stone, each harboring a simple stone table and bench, that ascended the area around the main floor which itself was a spectacle to behold. The main flor was a huge stone mosaic depicting an eagle and its endal rider in mid flight, it was truly one of the wonders of Wind Reach to all whom would visit the mountain city, though to Hawk, it was simply a place to un-wind and relax.

Hawk had sat within the Courtyard for hours, leant back on a platform of his own as the midday sun basked his naturally pale skin, leaving him in an almost euphoric state of relaxation. He had set this day aside as a day of rest for himself, a welcome break from the intense regime of hunting and training that he had undertaken since the winter snows had retreated. It was nice to simply relax, and to him there was nothing better than to sit out in the sun of early spring and practice his flute.

He had neglected the instrument for far too long, since he had grown into adulthood he had scarcely found the time to practice the instrument he had once had such a passion for. There was once a time when he could almost feel himself simply lose himself, simply by playing and letting himself fall into the rhythm of the music he created, however those days had long departed him. The graceful gift he once had with the beautiful instrument had now been replaced with the stout prowess he had achieved with the bow, he sometimes regretted it but after all, that was the path in which he had been set to walk and for him, the decision was between that or end up scrubbing the floor of this fine courtyard as a dek.

A note of regret intruded upon his thoughts as his gaze averted from the bright blue sky above him, down to the shining red tanned wood of his flute, there was no better time than now to regain his lost knowledge of the music. He gently lifted the flute to rest his lips upon the lip plate of the instrument, and after taking a subtle breath of air he began to gently blow air into the broad hole. Clumsily he began to move his fingers along to an old piece he remembered from when he was a child, it was a simple song but one that held importance to him for he remembered his mother playing it before he was sent to the communal nursery of the Yasi. He disregarded the missed notes, the subtle mistaken changes in pitch and tempo and the odd pushed note as he concentrated more on the atmosphere he created for himself, and all of a sudden, he felt himself drift back to when he was but a child…

[Vala]

She sat at the very center of the story teller’s well. A book lay open in her lap, illuminated by the dim light of nearby lamps. Dozens of petite, blue eyes stared up at her expectantly, watching her every move. Vala took a moment to clear her throat before continuing the story. Her first time working as a last minute story teller, in the early winter, had turned out so smashingly, that Kirna had allowed Vala to try her hand at it whenever there were slow days; a win/win for Vala who got to practice public speaking and for the storytellers who wanted a day away from the multitudes of children and yasi. Today Vala had chosen another Priskil story, just like that one fateful winter’s day oo0oo 2 bells earlier… Ink pot to the right, two extra quills right next to it, and favorite quill sharpened and in hand, now that she was all set up and cozy in her desk, Vala was ready to get writing. Sure she had found an amazing, technical book about Priskil’s gnosis, Luminance, but Vala knew she couldn’t just start reading facts: Luminance gives its wielder the ability to turn positive feelings into light Luminance light is harmful to evil creatures and people Priskil never gives negative gnosis marks Vala was pretty sure that didn’t count as a story… that and the children would probably start to write after a page. After meeting Torc, and finding out the power that a gnosis could grant a mortal, Vala went on a bit of an information binge. During her breaks, Vala scourged the Enclave for books on the gods; there wasn’t much on any, except for a shelf for Priskil. And like the bookworm she was, Vala polished off the shelf in a few days – reading at the reception table during the slower hours. So, Vala couldn’t just let this one go; she really, really wanted to share the knowledge with the younger kids; she wanted to spread the word of Priskil’s greatness. And the only way, Vala knew, to get kids to listen to facts was through an awesome, if not fantastical story. And since the Enclave lacked any stories of Priskil’s champion, Vala decided to just make one up… the only problem was, she had never made up a story before; well she had, as children did, making up imaginary friends and the like, of which Vala did often, but this was supposed to be a legitimate story, with a fluid plot and everything, maybe even a villain. Vala began to sweat in discomfort, wondering what she had gotten herself into. First she knew she had to pick a hero…no, a heroine! Whose name would be… Vana! Yeah that sounded pretty hero-esque. Now all she needed was a villain: Endas! She realized she probably needed more than just a hero and a villain for a proper story… There would be killing of bunnies… yes, the most horrid of crimes. Vala scrunched up her nose, trying to forget the bunny killing, which she paid dearly for, via bear attack, nearly a third of a season ago. Vala tried to keep her back straight, adjusting her posture until it fit the textbook requirements for a proper calligraphist scribe. Only young children came to the morning stories… Vala could afford to ‘wing’ it just this first time, letting her imagination run free instead of forcing it to adhere to any formal, stifling plot line. Putting her quill down, Vala picked up a simple wooden stylus; she had forgotten to make the proper writing guidelines that made sure her writing wouldn’t skew off at an angle. Using a straight stick, Vala quickly made light indentations into the paper. She popped open the ink vial, making a distinct and airy pop. Making sure to dip lightly, as not to get too much ink in the reserve, Vala got her quill ready, beginning at the very top left corner of her journal. Before she got in on the Luminance facts, Vala tried to get a fairly good character story built up – just like the adventure stories she loved to read herself. “Long, long ago, there was a little Inartan girl, no older than forty eight seasons. She had bright blue eyes and long red hair that she always kept tied up in to two pig tails…Her name was Vana” Vala ran the feather against her lip, already unsure of how to continue the story. She gasped happily when something came to her. ”And there was this big, mean boy named Endas who was rich, and snotty, and a jerk, and a mean face…” Vala scribbled angrily, making a few messy splotches. It took her a few more hateful adjectives before she calmed down again. “…Endas was really, really mean. Endas hated bunnies. He liked to catch them and pull on their ears!” Vala giggled evilly as she made up the horrid, albeit childish villain. “Vala-“ Vala quickly, while trying to be neat as she was trying to practice her calligraphy, crossed out her name and wrote in the right one – Vana. Vana had a pet bunny named… Wonin.” Vala giggled at her cleverness. “Wonin was the handsomest bunny ever! Except for the little bald patch at the top of his head-“ She wanted to remain as accurate as possible, especially since she was drawing on real life inspiration. “Wonin was so cute and cuddly with a twitchy pink nose. Endas was jealous that Vana had an cuddly bunny and he didn’t, so he decided to be very, very mean and hurt Wonin. So one night…” Vala was getting so caught up in the bunnies that she forgot she had wanted to incorporate Priskil in the first place. ”…so one night, Endas snuck into Vana’s room with a bag and some rope. He snuck in like a shadow, an evil, mean, super stupid shadow. And while Vana was sleeping, he shoved Wonin into the bag, tied it up, and ran away. It took Vana a bell before she woke up to find Wonin missing…” It was a strange juxtaposition, to have such formal lettering with such simple writing. Vala continued to write the story, taking her time, making sure to space her letters carefully and avoid any more messy ink splotches. After a few more lines, she had to switch off to another quill, as her favorite one’s nib dulled beyond regulation standard. By the time Vala finished the story her right hand was cramping pretty bad and she only had ten bells before the children would start to arrive… she needed to do a couple read throughs if she didn’t want to seem like an incompetent storyteller as she stumbled through the words. Vala blew on the paper, encouraging the ink to dry faster. oo0oo Present Vala’s bubbly voice, projected clearly, though not too loudly to the audience; her voice was still weak, unused to large audiences, yet. “And from the shadows appeared Priskil. She was very pretty and she glowed with godly radiance. Vana remembered seeing her before, a friend from the nursery. Vana wondered why her friend was all glowy, and what she was doing out so late. Vana didn’t question though, she just accepted her friend’s prescence and silently followed her, trusting her for no reason, other than from a gut feeling. Priskil led Vana through many twists and turns,” Vala coughed, clearing her throat, which was starting to feel a little dry. She continued, trying to get back into the beat. “Priskil led Vana all the way to a deserted corridor, where Endas stood with Wonin, in a bag, was held up above his head. Endas had ran all the way to the Tomb of the Fallen!” The children gasped, as Vala yelped ominously. She continued the story, in a low, gravelly voice; the children had to lean in, close, to hear the whispered words. “Endas had ran all the way to the Tomb of the Fallen, and was now holding Wonin, still tied up, over the gaping hole. He saw them, Priskil and Vana, and shivered. He did not recognize Priskil, but his heart raced at the sight of her calm yet knowing face. Wonin yelped, scared, in the dark bag. Vana called out, scared for her precious bunny. Priskil slipped her hand into Vana’s. Vana gripped her friend’s comforting hand tight, feeling a warm tingling rise from her palm, extending to the rest of her body; she gasped in pleasant surprise. At her gasp, Endas accidentally released the bag with Wonin in it.” Vala paused suddenly. The children howled in anger and frustration. “Did Wonin die?” They screamed out in childish fury. Vala just smiled at their excitement. “Well, just listen.” She cleared her throat once more, feeling a little sore. “But before R-Wonin fell to his doom, Priskil swooped in and saved the day. Vana too, raised her hand and from her palm exploded a bright light. The light hit Endas, squarely in the chest. Endas, hit by the light of Luminance, which is Priskil’s gnosis, or god mark, was momentarily stunned. Priskil, taking Wonin out of the dark bag, carefully handed him over Vana, his proper master.” Vala closed her book slowly; she knew the rest and didn’t need to read it off the paper anymore. “For you see, Vana was such a nice and caring person, that Priskil saw and wanted to reward her. Priskil gave Val-Vana the power of… does anyone know? Does anyone want to guess?” Vala smiled, asking encouragingly. The huddling children turned their heads, looking at each other, every single one hushing up. Vala furrowed her brows, a little disappointed at their tenacity, until one slowly raised their tiny hand. Vala nodded to him, encouraging him to speak up. “I-is it Luminance?” The boy stuttered out. Vala bobbed her head. “Yes, yes, you’re right! You must be very learned.” The boy beamed at her praise. “Now back to the story. Well, because Vana was such a nice person, Priskil gave her the power of Luminance to help protect herself, and her precious bunny Ronin, from jerks like Endas.” Vala turned back to the boy who had answered her earlier question. “So do you know anything else about Luminance?” The boy shook his head, he didn’t want the others looking at him anymore; he was young and he was shy. Vala smiled comfortingly; she didn’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable, so she tried to attract everyone’s attention again by wrapping up with a couple facts. Vala found it oddly satisfying to impart knowledge, but only if it was to people she wasn’t competing against… “When Vana looked down at her wrist, she saw a very pretty mark; it looked like a slightly glowing vortex. Vana’s new gnosis mark gave her the power to shape light, turning positive feelings into light. So with her new friend Priskil and Endas in a disgusting, whimpering heap, Vana lived happily ever after with her pet bunny Wonin.” Vala finished her story abruptly, the very first one she had ever made. It was childish, simple, and horribly, factually out of whack, but at least it got a few entertained claps from the children. After the children finished picking up their stuff, waving friendly goodbyes as they walked out the door, Vala finally allowed herself to release a worried breath. She was grateful there weren’t any hecklers this time around; she was pretty sure her story sucked… but the children were too young to really care as long as the speaker was animated enough. “…not going to try that again.” Vala muttered to herself, secretly promising to get better at writing stories before attempting to tell them out loud. With her shift at the storyteller’s well over, Vala was allowed a bell or two for a personal break and lunch. She took the time to get some fresh air and maybe stretch her legs for a while in the Courtyard of the Sky, and then maybe catch a tasty bite at the kitchens. With her journal pinned between her elbow and side, Vala twirled a stubby graphite pencil between the fingers of her right hand. She stopped, at a fairly secluded spot in the Courtyard of the Sky, the ends of her lips curling up excitedly at the sound of pretty music dancing in the air. Before her sat a young man playing a flute, quite sweetly, though she flinched every time he hit a few wrong sounding notes. He was cute; his facial structure was quite appealing to Vala. He seemed far too hardened, to wiry, to be just an ‘artist’. True, Inartans were normally quite fit for active mountain people, but the man before her was definitely more fit than usual. He wasn’t as dominating as an Endal would be, so Vala decided to linger for a while, enjoying the pretty music while she could. Her small foot, tapped lightly to the beat. OOC : Vala has this thing against an Endal (thus Endas). And she has a friend named Ronin, whose hair she pulled out when they first met…

[Hawk]

The calm had overtaken him, the feeling brought on by the soft and soothing sounds of the music. Hawk could not help it as his fingers ran the length of the red wood instrument, awkwardly covering the various holes to change the pitch of the sounds he was creating. The sounds where still soft, despite his lack of true skill, and seemed to branch out around him with superb clarity, more from the quality of the instrument being used than the playing technique of the flautist, however, it did give an idea to the sound that could be produced by a seasoned player. That was Hawk’s drive for this endeavour, he needed something like this to distract himself from the constant flow of his occupations, the constant pressure of the ever more frequent hunts.

He paused for a moment letting the last notes ring in the air for a moment as he slowly lowered the exquisite instrument, he could not help but smirk as he placed the flute upon his lap. He would one day be able to play flawlessly, but he had a lot of work to do before that day came, however he could not help but forget the flawed notes, the awkward timing of his piece, the typical mind of an amateur. However he did not wish to stop playing, however he could not help but notice something that changed in the scenery around him, something had taken up a spot nearby. He gave a slight smile, years of honed practice had sharpened his sense of presence and he slowly turned his head to look behind him.

Behind him, a young girl was perched on one of the benches garbed in an outfit of black, an odd color for such a warm and bright day he thought. She was small in size, no more than five or so feet tall, and more cute than beautiful but with an almost adult confidence about her. For that split second Hawk seemed to trip over himself at the sight of her very subtle smile which seemed to perfectly compliment her striking, bright blue eyes. He knew there was something more to her but could not help but let his lips curl at the edges as he let out a half suppressed smile, and for that moment his judgement and usually hyper observant mind seemed to cloud as he lost focus with everything else around him.

He snapped himself back. He did not lose the smile, and he didn’t really want to as he turned back around, his fingers running the length of his flute as he tried to decide what to play next. He gave a slight nod as he lifted the flute back up to rest beneath his lips, he knew another song that he used to enjoy playing but it was different to the last. It held more meaning, to him at least, it reminded him of his mother, and it sounded almost as beautiful as he remembered her to be. It almost felt and sounded like a wave of ambience that slowed the world around around him, the subtle and slow changes in dynamics mirroring the odd feeling of emotion that he felt at that moment.

OOC :

Couldn’t find a song that really demonstrated the kind of feel I was looking for, so grabbed one that put across the kind of feel I was looking for, but you will have to imagine how it would sound on flute

[Vala]

His face, in his face she saw peace. She read, from the angles of his masculine features, a clarity that she rarely achieved, barely even when she meditated. She was enraptured by the music but mostly she was a little jealous. Not of his skill and musicality, but of the peace of mind that so cruelly evaded her. She leaned back into the bench, trying to get comfortable, as she ran her lithe fingers through her silky hair. She forced her gaze from his face to his fingers. She watched as his fingers seemed to dance over the holes, reminding her of her own movements when she practiced calligraphy. He noticed her. She wasn't sure if catching the higher ranking man's attention was part of her plan to immerse herself in yet another wild escapade, or if she was just so cute that she couldn't avoid attention no matter how inconspicuous she tried to be. Either way, the Avora's coy, and dashing, curling of the lips, only further boosted Vala's inflated ego. It wasn't that she loved getting in trouble. She didn't even like people that much. She only even hung out with Ronin if they had business together or if he initiated the encounter. The only times she initiated was when she was bored and wanted to play games; people made the most interesting of games. On that note Vala remembered her 'games' with Zeek, more specifically how badly it had turned out and how quickly she lost control playing with someone with so much more power over her. The question: Did Vala want to play? The answer: Yes Around and around, Vala twirled a lock of her crimson hair around her slim finger. She matched his subtle smile with a furtive glance before pulling out her journal onto her lap. She opened to a scribbled on page in the back and began to scribble even more. Not mindless scribbles mind you. Vala was drawing shapes: triangles, circles, ovals, squares. All to warm up her wrist for legitimate sketching aka doodling. She continued with the shapes for five chimes or so, until her wrist was throughly limber, before looking back up to inspect the flutist. She saw the usual: pale skin, red hair, blue eyes. Not like she could specify color with her dark gray charcoal stick that she had 'borrowed' from the Enclave. She tried to pick out a distinguishing figure - the flute was the only thing that really popped out to her. It was undeniably beautiful. She again, looked on with envy. Using the beauty of the music to motivate and guide her, Vala began to sketch the basic shape of the flute. She wished she had sat little closer as she continued to look up at the flutist and back down to the paper, trying to get the shape before starting on any details. Secret : playing is Vala's word for flirting or manipulating... She's a bit of a sociopath

[Vala]

Nothing was working: not the furtive smiles; not the discreet glances from under her lashes; and not even the obnoxious 'nervous' lip biting. Vala's sketch of a flute had transformed into a tangle of angry knotted scratches and crossing strokes. Vala closed her journal with a snap. The lack of male acknowledgement irritated Vala more than she was willing to admit. With a chesty huff, Vala shut her journal and began to make her way to her room; her appetite for food was quickly replaced with an appetite for rage. Picking up her bow and quiver, Vala made her way to the Plucked Arrow. She slowed her frantic pace to pause at the bridge between the yasiry grounds and the range. Her fingers lightly trailed the worn stone of the railing. She watched as the schools of mildly luminescent fish swarmed upon the crumbs of bread the children would throw into the water. Her favorite ones were the sleek silver ones. They were only half the size of most of the other fish, and their shimmery coloring made it near impossible to track them amongst the others. Vala could only count five today. Usually their numbers ranged from six to fifteen. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to focus on one particularly small one, no bigger than her own fist as it swam desperately through the crowded waters with half its tail mangled. Vala did not feel sorrow at its pain or its frantic movements. What she did feel was a sense of kinship for the scrawny beast. Though it was smaller and injured it still reached those crumbs faster than some of the heavier, encumbered fish of dazzling hues. Though the fish had lightened Vala's mood considerably, she was still on a bit of a silent war path. With bow in hand, Vala made a bee line for the first open station. Taking the quiver off her back, Vala leaned it against a stand so it wouldn't interrupt her weight distribution. Vala stood before the shooting line, bow gripped tightly in hand. Her normally blue eyes flashed a steely gray as they were suddenly sheathed by a merciless sheen.

[Vala]

She stood left foot on the shooting line, right foot back and angled to make a V with her stance. Her boots were planted, shoulder width apart. She stood tense, too tense, her knees were improperly locked. If she maintained the stance for long she would lose proper blood flow in a few chimes. Once Vala had her open stance set, she nocked her first arrow. The ruddy red fletching were perfectly set so one pointed away from the bow. Vala flexed her fingers one by one. She should have stretched, but in her haste to shoot she had forgotten to; it was too late now. Vala’s calloused pads found the points on the string by instinct. Her index finger lay firmly above the arrow butt, while her second and third fingers lay just below. Her fingers made a curved hook, the muscles were steady from practice. Calligraphy had strengthened her fingers considerably, even more than years of casual archery. With one graceful sweep, Vala raised her bow and draw arm. She kept the string only a third drawn, until she had her bow arm perfectly steady. Then in another smooth motion Vala drew the string all the way back to her face, nearly resting her warm fingers against her cool cheek. From the corner of her eye she could just see the string barely a hair away from the tip of her little nose. Her muscles flexed, she could feel them straining beneath the worn cloth of her vinati. Now that Vala was anchored, she knew she should only be in the holding phase for a few more seconds or her arm would start to fatigue. She relaxed her muscles slightly, the bow was helping her keep the string taught and partially locked enough so she could. Luckally for Vala, her dominiance, both eye and hand, were relegated to her right side. Sure she trained her hardest to achieve a laudable level of ambidextrousness, but she will always be naturally right handed. Unlike many other novice archers, Vala aimed with both eyes open. Her natural sight still focused on the red target only with the added peripheral distractions of her other non dominant left eye. Some novices had trouble focusing with the blurry distractions, so had Vala, but practice, practice, practice had begun to help her focus properly today. A fleeting thought marred her aim; the target was worn and needed to changed. The Plucked Arrow caretakers rarely cared about the chiet side of the range – it was always about the potential yasi. Vala silently raged at the negligence. She could make out the individual tufts of hay behind the thread bare canvas. She released. It was quick, a little too quick; she had still been thinking about the status of the target. The arrow was a hand span away from the fist sized red dot. Vala’s follow through had much to be desired. Vala sighed. She reached for another arrow, nocking it mechanically. Just going through the motions.

[Phoenix]

Character: Vala Experience: Storytelling- 2, Drawing- 2, Archery- 4 Lores: Spreading Stories about Priskil, A hunger for knowledge, Reading the lines of a face, Feeling the sharp sting of rejection, Turning to anger Character: Hawk Experience: Flute- 3 Lores: Soaking up the sun, Losing yourself in the music, Flirting with someone way too young The Method, The Fire: Any questions or concerns, please send me a PM and I'll be happy to help!