Serenading Colored Mushrooms (Vala)

[Kovac]

Timestamp: 15th Day of Summer, 511 AV Location: The Underground Forest. Wind Reach Status: Closed, Tag Vala Kovac strolled through the corridors of the warrens, his lute tucked under one arm and a stack of paper and a pen and ink bottle in the other. The avora had purchased the ink and pen earlier in they day, having waited for the next market day to get the supplies. It had been so long since he had written, his old ink had dried up. The half-blood's pace was hurried as his steps carried him lower and further into Mount Skyinarta. He did not want to attract attention. Of all the things he was, or accused of being, few knew about Kovac's music. It was something he did for himself. The lute that belonged to his mother, and uncounted bottles of wine, were his only consolation when Kalle had betrayed him. His songs were bitter then, dripping with sarcasm. Others were melancholy and regretful. But things had changed. He had met Shayth, who had shed some light on his pathetic life. Now...the tunes that rolled around in his head were a bit lighter. Still edgy, still sardonic, but not laced with acid and spite. And he had to get them on paper, and he had to do it where no one would hear. The Underground Forest. A dek carrying a bucket of water bumped into Kovac as they passed in the hallway, jarring the avora and forcing him to juggle his armload. "Stupid grimy little..." The surly archer grumbled at the drudge as he turned and picked up his pace.

[Vala]

Flourish after flourish, Vala’s fingers dances across the page with unrelenting accuracy. She didn’t have much time The impatient Avora wanted the letter now. “If she needs it so bad, why doesn’t she write it herself. Oh yeah, that’s right – she’s an incompetent twit.” The Avoran lady turned away from her friend, pausing mid sentence. “What’s that chiet?” And the audacity to call me a chiet as well? Vala just smiled a pretty, perfect smile. Vala finished the character with more force than necessary. “Nothing ma’am.” She replied, ungritting her teeth. A full morning of calligraphic work and acting for the most ungrateful customers was tiring, too tiring. Vala’s hand was beginning to cramp. The muscles tightened around her forearm, threatening to cause a slip at any moment. The words were blunt and crude; the customer had written them herself. Vala sneered at the lack of tack her superior managed to achieve in over two hundred words. Each noxious, badly used adjective was like a serrated needle in her eye. Just another paragraph! Picking favorites was wrong – coin was coin, but who could resist getting little revenges every now and then? Vala was not ashamed – Vala did not feel shame, she might have been afraid to be called out, but she knew the plebian sitting just a meter away wouldn’t be able to recognize fine lettering over chicken scratch even if it hit her in the squash nose. Vala rushed through the last paragraph, skipping through serifs, speeding through with wobbly strokes, all with a satisfied sneer on her face. It was still beautiful. Vala would never allow herself to make anything less that laudable, but she could live with something less than perfect… just this once. Just as she was about to add the lady’s signature (her real signature looked like a falcon picked up a quill, drowned it in ink… and just pooped on the page) – according to Vala, she caught sight of someone she vaguely realized. “Kovac?” It had been over a season since she had seen his mug up close and personal. It would have been creepier that she still remember his name if it wasn’t because she had written it down in her log (something akin to a journal without all the doodly hearts). Or maybe it was because he was a fairly well known archery teacher, yeah, that was probably it. He didn’t hear her, thankfully. It would have been awkward; she barely knew him. Vala hated being put in uncomfortable social situations; they always made her feel like a caged animal. Vala was wound up tight enough. He was buying ink at Warden’s stall… odd. Vala noted his calloused hands when they had first met, she looked at them again – no signs of years of stain that had seeped in deep into the epidermis. He was no scholar; he was an archery instructor for Priskil’s sake. Never had she seen him in the Enclave. Why did he need ink? Curioser and curiouser. Vala let the quill drop from her fingers; a drop of ink fell from the nib on to the corner of the parchment. Vala might have tried to spy further into what he was saying to Warden, but the lady started to shriek… “You messed up! YOU MESSED UP! Look what you’ve done! Look at that spot! That horrible black spot! There! Right at the very corner! Don’t act like don’t see it you cheeky petch! I SEE IT!” Vala sighed… oo0oo It had been a long morning: gruelingly long. Vala was in the mood for some low impact mischief. “Kovac?” Vala gaped, her sharp eyes trying to discern if that was really him. If it was the famed archery instructor stumbling into a poor Dek, it was. What a coincidence. Vala sniggered at his misfortune. She stopped, letting the mirth subside as her eyes latched on to a fluttering thing, about to land in murky water, water that had spilled from the careless Dek’s bucket. Before any atrocity could happen to the precious thing, Vala bolted, writing tools and portfolio clutched tightly under her left arm. Just in time! Kovac was gone. The Dek was gone. Vala was alone, clutching the sheet of parchment as she lay sprawled in murky bucket water. It didn’t take her long to decipher the ‘marks’. Vala couldn’t read it, but Warden sold his share of compositions. It was music. Kovac was a musician? Vala sneered, her teeth glistening in the flickering torch light. She quickly bounced up, brushing herself of, and slunk into the shadowy warrens, off to hunt her new prey.

[Kovac]

Kovac's journey became more relaxed as he descended deeper into Skyinarta, the traffic in the corridors of the warrens all but disappearing as he neared the Underground forest. He overtook a company of chiet miners heading to the great cavern, lugging their gear. He must of looked foolish heading towards the vast cave with a lute and paper in his arm while they were burdened with picks and shovels. The avora paid the commoners no mind, and moved on until he reached the cavern entrance. The Forest was an impressive phenomenon, an expansive array of tree-like stony columns amidst a stunning array of luminescent mushrooms and fungus. There were no food gatherers, being summer. Only in the most dire days of winter did the inarta resort to collecting the fungus and hunting the wretched bats from the Forest to feed themselves. Skirting around the corner of the entrance to the left, Kovac followed a familiar trail through the strange flora to a spot he had used before. It was out of the paths traveled by the miners, far enough in so as not to be heard, but not far enough to attract the nasty giant bats. Finding a well-lit spot under a large glowing shelf fungus, the archer sat, his back against a tree-like stone pillar. The lute was placed on his lap, the sheets of paper strapped to a wooden board of the same size with a leather tether placed in front of him. The ink and pen were set aside. To warm up, Kovac strummed a few chords, then pulled a sheet from the stack and set it in front of him. It was a light, moderate tune, good to get his fingers loosened up. He began to play, only occasionally glancing down at the sheet. Kovac did not need to read it, after all, he wrote it.

[Vala]

While the passing miners were taken aback at the unusual sight of an un-supervising Avora, especially one with a musical instrument in tow, they were more questioning of the sneaking girl that was so obviously trailing him. While Vala tried her hardest to dart behind the many fossilized mushrooms, her passage was regularly disturbed by the groups of miners she could barely dodge, with their unwieldy pick axes threatening to poke her eye out at a fleeting misstep. Vala gasped in fear, only to swerve in relief, as another close call made its way past her cheek. It was after four near facial makeovers that Vala gave up trying to be sneaky; that and her leg muscles were starting to cramp from maintaining her crouched position. Vala was growing so sure of Kovac’s obliviousness, that she even let her eyes wander from his back enough so she could see where she was going; by doing this, Vala found it far easier to avoid the exodus. She saw with a hardened gaze their weary eyes and calloused hands; she felt nothing for them and their miserable life. She wondered how she, a learned individual, could be so offhandedly equivocated to such a menial task force. She squinted angrily when he made a sharp turn and a particularly luminescent fungus near blinded her. The mossy, ethereal greens were beautiful and lighted the path far better than any flickering torch could, but their otherworldly glow just gave her the shivers. She kept her own arms pressed close to her chest as warily eyed the invasive second skin that claimed territory as if it was sentient. Though she did not mind the sight of the majestic pillars, those which were once living, like her. They reminded her immortality came in many different form. Vala turned her head to check the path they had gone down; she regretted it instantly. All too soon she began to doubt her memory – was that a left, or had it been a right turn? Everything looked so similar but everything was alien. It had been so long ago since she had occasion to visit this underground pit; she had always been that yasi that would cozen her way out of those childish dares. Kovac sat and began to strum. Vala peeked around the corner. Her bright red hair whipped about her face; she scowled angrily before tying the fiery locks into a tight bun. In her right hand she clutched her portfolio and in her left she held Kovac’s music between two fingers. The corners had gotten a little crumpled after a few bumps and bruises, but it was mostly unharmed. Vala bit her lip, unsure of what to do. She leaned back into a steady stone pillar. It was unsettlingly warm. She sighed. “What am I doing?” Vala shook her head, gripping her portfolio tighter. She could barely hear the music; it was nice; Vala closed her eyes. Sorry : So sorry this took so long. I’m super behind on my posting.

[Kovac]

The lute's rich, crisp sound did not travel far, absorbed by the myriad of fungi and lost as it bounced between the stony columns. Kovac allowed the music to surround him, focusing on it as it seemed to well up from within him and channel itself through his fingers to the sounding board of the instrument. These solitary moments proved to offer a touch of serenity to the otherwise distracted man. His body hunkered down over the instrument, his head bowed, eyes glazing. He followed the music with his gaze, though, in reality, he did not see it. With an almost trance-like quality, Kovac's music was like a warm fire on the coldest night...enveloping and consuming him. If one took the time to listen, and understand, one could see that the tunes Kovac played were like a language of emotion, betraying the troubled half-breed's deepest feelings and thoughts, more clearly than his carefully guarded words ever revealed. Some of those telling songs were not even played for Shayth. The piece Kovac now strummed came to a natural pause, written intentionally to give the player a fraction of a moment to turn to the next page of music. But when the avora paused, it was not the next page he was looking for. He had thought he had caught movement from the corner of his eye, among the colorful mushrooms up the path. Agh, good gods I don't want to deal with those shyke-dumping bats. His hand slipped to his side and drew out a long, single-edged knife, which the archer laid next to him. Not seeing any more movement, Kovac went back to his music, but when he turned to find the next page of the composition, it was gone. Rifling through the stack of sheets, the second page could not be found. "Petch," he muttered. With a sigh, he set his fingers back to the fingerboard, taking a moment to see the music in his head and find his place.

[Vala]

Vala strained her ears, desperate to hear more of the haunting tune. It was painful to listen to; it was so beautiful. Her heart constricted painfully within her chest at the rising and falling notes, like the decrescendo of her own struggling beats. Her pale cheeks flushed, then blanched again. Just the whispers were enough to illicit emotion from the icy shell. Vala didn’t understand what was going on; she wanted to draw closer to the siren call, to drink in deep the sounds, but every cell in her body screamed – Run. Kovac stopped playing for a moment; Vala was released. She sighed. Her left foot trembled. She bit her lip, willing herself to regain control. Before she could listen to her own advice and bolt, it was too late, Kovac began to play again. It was even worse than before. Without the written orders to stifle him, Kovac drew entirely from within to play the next part. While it may not have been completely accurate, it was absolutely true. Vala felt powerless. Unable to resist the call, she stumbled out of the corner, almost tripping on her way to Kovac. She held out the paper before her, unwilling to speak and break the flow of notes. The paper shook like a leaf in the wind.

[Kovac]

The music had drawn him in again, flowing forth as if a floodgate had been opened in his hard heart, the notes speaking what his words would not. Kovac rocked slightly as he played, entranced by his own song, finding release and comfort in the private outpouring of himself. The tune traveled from an arching thrill of bright notes to a subdued melody that seemed almost pensive as the archer's fingers danced along the lutes strings. It was in these measures of music that Kovac, barely aware of his surroundings, percieved another movement from the corner of his eye. In a flash, the luring tune suddenly ceased, the knife appearing in his hand. The wicked point was held extended towards the intruder, and the avora's head snapped to look in her direction. It was a girl, and as he held a knife at her, a sheet of paper was likewise extended towards him. His frown softened. He knew her...Vala, the drawing girl. The knife lowered, but Kovac's knitted brows did not relax. "Vala, what are you doing here? and what is this?" The avora reached up to take the carefully offered paper. It was the second page to his composition. His face shifted to questioning features. "Where did you find this?" His voice was a bit edged, somewhat irked at the disturbance of his secluded retreat. He looked over the slight, young woman. "You should not be down here, one of those petching bats could carry you away and drop you in a dung heap."

[Vala]

Vala looked up, her ‘danger sense’ tingling; a knife was inches from her nose. Vala did not flinch. If anything, Kovac’s aggressive wariness only endeared him to her. She frowned when she finally realized the music had stopped. And it didn’t take much effort, or even general awareness, for Vala to pick up Kovac’s tone. Kovac lowered his knife; Vala scanned his face. His slightly furrowed brows, hard lined mouth, and flustered flush only supported her suspicion. She did not at all appreciate his fatherly chastisement; she was not a child. Her own facial muscles stiffened; this was an awkward situation. Her words, while polite, were sharp and clipped, icy notes echoing mockingly. “I am sorry for disturbing you. I saw you had dropped your music sheet in the hall, while I was passing by and I followed you. I only wanted to return it.” It took a lot of self control for her to bite back – And I can take care of myself, thank you very much! Though the words were choked back, the sentiment was not missed on her pointed features. Vala turned on her heel. She began to walk away without waiting for a response.

[Kovac]

Vala's behavior, in cursory observation, did not abide by Kovac's first impressions of the girl, made when they first met last winter. Then, she appeared as a shy teen, young and a bit too skinny. The kind he imagined spent her free time drawing pictures of handsome endal's saving Chiets in distress and sparkly ponies with wings. Since then, there had only been few instances where he had seen her. The avora became aware that Vala was a rather accomplished glassblower, and was into books or something like that. But the Chiet had found no use for him, nor him for her, so they usually passed each other in the Warrens with out so much as glance. Well, Kovac would turn and look at her after she passed. She was pretty and had the silkiest hair of any girl in Wind Reach. So it was with some surprise that Vala seemed unafraid when his knife blade appeared, a confusing frown of disappointment instead crossing her countenance. In fact, Kovac's snarky attitude seemed to elicit a more indignant response than the inartan blade in her face. The girl's tone took on a civil, yet frigid edge, laced with sarcasm. No...hearing her voice, looking at her standing in defiance of his belittlement, Kovac saw a glimpse of something more mature than the kid he had met at the Winter Festival. The archer looked down at the paper still held carefully between her delicate fingers, reaching out and taking it from her. With a quick glance, Kovac confirmed it was the second page of his composition.When his gaze lifted again, Vala had already spun on her heels and headed back up the path. It was only a twinge of remorse that tickled Kovac's gut, quite aware he had offended Vala. After all, she came all the way down to this dank cavern to return a sheet of paper she could have just as easily thrown in a fire or used in the latrine. An apology danced on his tongue as the Chiet walked away, but the mocking sound of her snide reply still echoed in his head and he simply muttered to himself as he picked up his lute, "Thanks, snotty kid, run back to your glass baubles and glittery ponies." The sudden feminine shriek that echoed in through cavern gave Kovac a start, for a moment wondering if somehow the girl had heard his comment and had flown into a self-righteous rage. The continuation of the screaming, and its unnerving desperate tone, compelled Kovac to lay down his lute again and investigate. Perhaps Vala was taking out her anger at him by beating up an unsympathetic mushroom or something. He snatched up his long knife and sheathed it, jogging up the path through the dense stone and fungus. Rounding a corner, Kovac was greeted by the stench of a giant bat, its foul odor being wafter around by its beating wings. The beast was trying to get at Vala, its clawed feet reaching for her, its stained fangs bared.

[Phoenix]

Character: Kovac Experience: Lute- 5, Stealth- 2, Socialization- 2 Lores:Using music to help heal, Finding a place to hide and play, Letting your fingers do the talking, Finding it easier to be honest with lute strings than ones words, Oops- Vala is listening, Pulling a knife on a girl, Kovac to the rescue! Character: Vala Experience: Calligraphy- 2, Stealth- 2 Lores:Practice makes perfect, Catching Kovac as he sneeked, Spying on something that was intended to be private, Caught by Kovac, Grabbed by a giant bat The Method, The Fire: I am rather sad that this didn't get finished. It would have been fun to see bratty little Vala get snatched by a bat. Any questions or concerns, please send me a PM and I'll be happy to help!