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Considered one of the most mysterious cities in Mizahar, Alvadas is called The City of Illusions. It is the home of Ionu and the notorious Inverted. This city sits on one of the main crossroads through The Region of Kalea.

The Heathen and the Hopeful

Postby Allister on June 14th, 2017, 2:44 am

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Summer 3, 517 AV ~ 11th Bell


It was hot. Blame the sun or the sea or the wind but none of it mattered; the heat was oppressive. Despite all of this, the pale man with many ugly tattoos was smiling. He huddled down inside his long coat and walked in a most peculiar way. Unsteady legs, lean and lank, seemed to help the odd-looking figure drift about the sweltering streets of Alvadas as if he was floating. His booted feet clumped in a rhythm that was almost catchy if one listened long enough. A normal beat was given for three steps then the fellow with black eyes and a metal grin hop-stepped which left an echoing double punch from the flapping soles. For chimes, this was the sound that motivated him down the winding roads on a path to nowhere.

Allister hummed for a while as he dreamed up a tune. The melody filtered in an out of the city’s ambient noise then mixed with the line he was creating with his feet. Several ticks rolled by before a raspy tenor soured the air with his slightly flat but bright tone.

“I could sing of the sunshine.
I could sing of the rain.
I could sing of the bad times.
Or I could sing of the pain.”

Certain letter sounds were accompanied by a slight whistle as the man’s tongue licked over the metal cases that formed the front of his smile. The kelvic never seemed to notice but it was easy to hear on the ‘s’ and the ‘sh’ sounds.

“I might as well just say it.
All the men want to break it.
The girls all want to fake it.
But as for me…”

He allowed himself a rising giggle then began to twirl around on the balls of his feet in rhythm to his words. He was so engulfed in the moment that he didn’t notice the gathering clouds.

“I don’t give a petch if they take it
And shake it to the ground
Because in my true love I am found…”

Allister froze in a position that was much like a deep bow with his right arm out to his side and his left folded across his waist where he bent and folded his body so neatly. His arms were in perfect form and his ankles were crossed at the bottom of straight legs. His upper body loomed for a moment and he felt the muscles down the backs of his thighs tighten to keep him from falling over. With a graceful upswing and a kick of his left leg to uncross his feet, the hyena continued onward down the avenue which now looked completely different from before. While this would bother most people, Allister didn’t even notice such was his mood.

Up ahead was a large pole which supported a trio of arms that all held the chains to fancy antique lanterns. The kelvic strolled up with a skip in his step and a whistle on his lips then clutched the cold metal with one hand and pushed his feet up against the base. Using control of the thin muscles in his arm and tightening the ones along his spine and abdomen, Allister was able to walk and swing in a tight line over and over again that left his body at an extreme angle. One misstep and he’d fall flat to the ground – which was why he was going slow.

“I am found ‘cause I’m lost
‘Cause she’s gone and dead
Her crime was she kissed me
So they killed her instead.”

His mood was going south but the smile hid the fact and contradicted the lyrics to make it seem like a joke. In truth, Allister missed Madison. They had shared the one magical night and she had taught him magic but she also gave him compassion and love where none before had ever existed. A lonely man spinning round a pole beneath a cloudy sky… Allister stared down and hummed as the smile disappeared and the stones all shared the face of a woman now gone.

NoteLet me know if the date needs changed. Thanks for being patient!
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The Heathen and the Hopeful

Postby Sorla on June 27th, 2017, 4:30 pm

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Under a sky heavy with humidity, the girl and her crow made their way through the twisting streets of Alvadas. The occasional flap of Rikar's wings was the only source of wind in the suffocating heat. It was Sorla's day off and she had nothing to do, but it was too hot to stay indoors. She was hoping to find the city gates so she could take Rikar out into the woods to hunt some worms and bugs, but as always in Alvadas the destination was no more than a suggestion until it appeared, and she was open to alternatives. The clouds were like an iron pot keeping the sweltering air trapped in the city, making her long for release. There was something about days like this that brought the madness in the city of illusions even closer to the surface, as if everyone was just waiting for an excuse to explode.

The first thing that caught her attention was the sound of a harsh, gravelly voice singing an unfamiliar ditty. The jaunty rhythm seemed inappropriate for the lyrics, which seemed to come from a place of sadness. The singing was accompanied by an offbeat slap, as of leather hitting a hard surface. There was something compelling about the rhythm and the tune, and even the abrasive voice. Sorla couldn't help tapping her fingers against her thigh, and her steps naturally started to time themselves to the beat of the song. She rounded a corner, following the voice, just in time to see an extraordinary man twirling in the middle of the street and then approaching a tall lamppost.

His movements as he began to climb were controlled, but not elegant. He was clearly straining every stringy muscle in his wiry frame. For some reason he was wearing a long coat, despite the heat. The sleeves of his coat rode up his arms as he climbed, revealing a mass of twisting, overlapping scars and ink marks that Sorla recognised immediately as tattoos. The Inarta had been learning the art for several weeks now, and prided herself on being able to distinguish good technique from shoddy workmanship. This man's tattoos were unquestionably in the latter category. A naturally curious young woman, Sorla found it impossible to walk on by without finding out more about this man and his tattoos.

She walked over towards the pole, which the man was now hanging from like a figurehead, staring abstractedly at the ground. Rikar flew up to get a closer look, hopefully not startling the man too much, and then perched on top of the pole, surveying the scene. As Sorla looked up into the man's face, she noticed a word scrawled across his forehead, but it was too far away and too messy for her to make out. She was still getting used to reading Common. 'Sorry if my crow made you jump,' she said. 'He's quite curious.' She didn't see the irony of how well that description applied to herself as well. 'Can I ask what you're doing?' Sorla had never been good at subtlety.
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The Heathen and the Hopeful

Postby Nephti on August 6th, 2017, 7:56 pm

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oocI feel so bad for letting this slip through. I promise you - I will try to remember you lot!!! Now that I've got a reply in, hopefully it'll come up. And I'm so sorry for keeping you two up!

It was so nice and warm. Nephti basked in the heat of the sun, glad that Ionu had decided to give them this aspect from Syna this time around. So often, he messed with the weather, giving them snow in Summer, hail, rain, anything, that when he did let the rays shine into the city, Nephti loved them even more.

It was a heat that reminded her of her home, of course. Just the faintest memory, but it was still there, still reminiscent in the stroke of the sun. And it put a skip in her step, hoping that on this bright summer's morning, she could forget all that had past and simply enjoy herself like any child could.

There was a song in the air, and Nephti decided to follow. With the tune overlaying the lyrics, the distance of the voice, and the slight whistle following some sounds, she couldn't quite make out the words that were sung. All that, and the fact it was common, and that she didn't really feel like concentrating hard on it all. Instead, she let the tune wash over her, enjoying the rhythm of the words.

As she turned the corner, the words became stronger, and she knew Ionu had decided she could meet the mystery singer. A smile widened on her face as she turned another, spotting the figure in the distance. Spinning loosely around a lantern post, too far to make out real features, but close enough that Nephti was certain that he was the source.

As she moved closer, so did a familiar face. This one, she could recognise. Sorla. With a smile, the Eypharian girl burst into quick steps, wondering if the red head was drawn by recognition of the singing man, or simply curiosity, that powered the girl.

She slowed, as she caught sight of him. He was skinny, half-starved, with lanky limbs and strange striped hair, but that wasn't the cause for alarm. It was - almost - normal for Alvadas, that sort of strangeness. It was everything else that shocked her.

In his mouth, curled to a smile, lay strange teeth. She couldn't determine which was more shocking. The metal lumps that lay instead of his front teeth, or the sharp, dog like jaws of everything else.

Across his hands, scars and callouses were plainly visible. Scars that looked familiar, familiar in other places on other bodies. Callouses she remembered feeling herself, once.

And the tattoos. She wasn't the greatest fan of tattoos - all the Eypharians she had known once hated them, as they changed the gilding of their skin. Of her skin.

These tattoos? They were so much worse than anything on an Eypharian. They were messy scrawls, as if this man had just been a testing pad for practice for something greater. It said something, on his forehead. She struggled, a second, to make it out. "Damaged", it read.

There was something else on his face too. Everything else made her want to turn away, repulsed by his appearance, almost scared by those teeth, but it was that symbol that made her stay. A crocodile. A branded crocodile.

As if it was some faint memory, faces of slaves peeled through her vision. Could it be...?

All the signs were there. Nephti knew them well enough, after all. She just didn't want to admit it, couldn't admit it.

And she was far too afraid to ask.

Instead, she moved next to Sorla, reaching out to link fingers with the woman. "Your song - I like it," she started with a smile, hoping to find out if she lingered there long enough. "I am Nephti. What is your name?"
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