Beautiful Evil [Alvena]

[Talen Stirling]

10th Day of Summer, 511 AV, 20 chimes after the 9th bell. A small trail of gray smoke rose from a small red-and-white house in outer Denval. The sun was falling in through one of the windows, illuminating Talen sitting in his shirt and pants, cooking oatmeal over the hearth in his small house. He'd just come in from an early morning run, and was cooking a very simple meal. Oats were cheap, water was cheap, and though it held little flavour it still gave energy to keep him alive for some of the day. Today, he'd sweetened it abit with some honey he borrowed from an old lady, a friend of his mother's who lived a ways off in the town. He smiled abit, the old lady probably felt sorry for him; she'd known him as a boy and definetely still saw him as one. Talen wiped abit of sweat off his brow and ran his hand through his hair. Running on a summer day and then sitting before a fire might not have been the coolest decision he'd ever made. He yawned as he stirred the oatmeal in the iron pot with a rough wooden ladle, and stretched by reaching his elbows towards each other behind his back. He didn't have any work for today, so whether to look for some, to spend the day training or to take a day off was still an open question. Perhaps he should meet his new neighbour? He'd noticed someone around in the violet house next door, the windows had been opened and he'd spotted a figure moving once while he was outside yesterday. It would probably be nice; the house and the surrounding garden was abit of a waste lying empty. He looked down at the oatmeal, and swore as a familiar smell hit his nose. He'd not been stirring the bottom of the pot, and now that bit had burnt stuck to it...! He used the ladle and one of his leather boots as gloves and took off the pot, placing it next to the fireplace and sighing. Mornings rarely turned out well when breakfast was ruined.

[Alvena Celandine]

Alvena dug her carnivorous fangs into the peach, a fruit that had since become her favorite soon after she landed in Denval. She sat a worn wooden table with a glass of water resting on the edge, while she planned what she might do for the day. Her breakfast was the only enjoyable part of the morning. She constantly awoke with a backache from the bed she was sleeping on, missing the comfort of her hammock back home. There was not a single day so far where she would not wake up promptly at dawn, the light shining through the window too foreign to ignore. She wondered if she could get used to it; After all, she'd already been here for half a season. I should move out soon, or I'll overstay my welcome.The house was sparsely furnished, containing only the necessities such as a bed, some drawers or cupboards here and there, and a few chairs. As she got up from the table, she subconsciously brushed her hand across and the glass that had been left untouched since earlier fell off the table and came crashing to the floor. "Shyke," she cursed under her breath, surprised at her own clumsiness. Her bad sleep must have rendered her less coordinated. After double checking the rooms and out in the garden, she concluded that the house contained no broom, which came as no surprise. She discarded it for a moment to go wash her face and quickly pass a comb through her hair. She came back to the living room to analyze the mess she had caused. Muttering in frustration, she walked out into the front garden, scanning her mind for solutions. Her pupils became constricted as she walked out into the sunlight, taking a moment to adapt to the bright environment. Perhaps she could ask a neighbor? She wasn't sure that the house to her left was inhabited, but she could definitely smell something cooking on her right. Someone was home. Surely he or she would own something to pick up the myriad of glass shards in her living room. She silently walked straight up to the person's home, walking elegantly as ever despite her shyness. She gave three light knocks on the door with her black knuckle, reciting lines over in her head, "Hello, I'm Alvena, your next door neighbor. Sorry I haven't introduced myself earlier. Would you happen to have have a broom? I seem to have clumsily broken a glass, and I don't have anything to pick it up with." She hoped she could pronounce her words clearly enough in common, and that the person may speak more than just the Denvali dialect.

[Talen Stirling]

just as Talen put down the iron pot, he heard an unfamiliar sound. Three short light taps on wood. For a second he looked around surprised, then realised that the sound must have come from the door. He rarely had guests and no-one who knocked like that. He didn’t have any friends visiting, and work usually involved him reporting or looking for it. Curious, he got up with the support of one hand, and walked the short distance to the door barefooted, trying for a brief moment to set his morning hair straight and buttoning up his shirt. He quickly gave up fighting that lost battle. Stifling a yawn, he turned around the handle and opened the door inwards with a faint creaking sound, looking out with as much of a smile as he could manage at whoever stood outside his door. Sunlight streamed in the open door, and illuminated a delicate female figure from behind. Her hair seemed to flow like silver or snow around her lithe frame, while her skin seemed flawlessly bright in the morning sun. For a moment, Talen was breathtaken with her beauty and felt his mind go vacant and his heart skip a beat, while he looked at her in surprise and awe. But only for a moment. OOCApologies for the short post. It seemed appropriate to halt there =)

[Alvena Celandine]

oocLength isn't what matters. I quite like your writing style Standing before her was a man who was about her height if not somewhat taller, which came as a surprise considering she was accustomed to towering over most of the humans she met. His boyish features contrasted with his muscular physique, his light eyes giving him a charming appeal Alvena couldn't quite explain. His mouth stood slightly agape as though in surprise, or shock. The way he stared at her made her feel uncomfortably self-aware. "Hello, my name is Alvena," she recited the lines she had thought of previously, more bashfully than she had hoped. "Um, I've been living next to you for a while now," She motioned towards the worn down lavender home by raising her ashen fingers towards it. She hesitated. She had planned on being very up-front about her little problem, but the man seemed to be in shock after opening his door. I suppose seeing a Symenestra at your front door is harder to handle than passing one in the streets, she thought to herself, and decided to give him a moment.

[Talen Stirling]

A Symenestra. One of them. Talen stared in surprise, while his lips closed and he bit his teeth together. His brows furrowed and his eyes were shadowed as his gaze turned hard yet distant. He heard but didn't really understand what she said. He was in the garden. It was a wet day. Mother was cooking and father was returning from a patrol in "The Unforgiving". Talen heard boots stepping in the muddy street up the road, and ran up to the roadside to greet his father. He wasn't there. A group of men were approaching their house. Somewhere behind them was a small cart with.. Something, on it. Talen took a halfstep back and grabbed the doorframe, knuckles whitening as he held it. He tried to shake the memories, but felt a familiar anger course through his veins. One of the men, "Uncle" Rowan, walked up to him. He had father's sword in his hand. Why did he have that...? No-one but father was allowed to touch it.. He knelt down in front of Talen, his knee sinking abit in the wet grass. He spoke words in a dull voice, words that couldn't be true. He took Talens' little hand and put the sword in his palm, then took his other and clasped them both around it;"-- A rogue Symenestra -- Your father has fallen -" Talen raised his head suddenly, a threatening dark glare replacing his former friendly confusion; "What do you want, 'Widow'...? Haven't you people taken enough?" he managed to spit out bluntly. As he looked upon her, his eyes saw nothing but claws and dark memories. With an effort of will he refrained from any further verbal or physical abuse, yet his dark glare remained in place.

[Alvena Celandine]

She couldn't bring herself to understand the sudden change in atmosphere. The man's face went completely pale as he clutched the frame, as though he needed support. He seemed almost ill as his once sublime eyes went dark, and he seemed to be staring right through her. His silence left Alvena fidgety, unsure of what to do. "Are you alright? You seem ill," she said, a worried look on her face. She tentatively took a step forward and reached her hand out to him; Perhaps he needed to lie down. He suddenly spoke up, looking straight into her eyes with deep resentment. "What do you want, 'Widow'...? Haven't you people taken enough?" She jerked backwards, retracting her hand as it slightly brushed against his arm. What had she done? She had spoken as politely as she could, and although her common was broken, she knew her wording well and hadn't been disrespectful in her tone. Maybe he was just racist? No, there was pure hatred in his eyes, he must have had some kind of provocation. This kind of hostility was not one based on prejudice. Alvena felt very inclined to leave then and there, but she remained standing there, in silent shock.

[Talen Stirling]

As she ligtly touched his arm, Talen suddenly realised that he was yelling at a stranger. He'd lost himself, this wasn't him, threatening and being cruel to newcomers. He took a second step back and forced a deep breath down. The air felt hot and heavy, just like the anger flowing through his veins. Despite this, Talen forced himself to stay calm, though he no longer dared even look at the stranger 'lest he lose himself. What are you looking for..? he asked in a forced tone, while looking down to the side. He felt his sudden outburst of emotion slowly dissolve, being replaced by embarrasment and a colder annoyance. Why would one of their kind come to his doorstep? Talen raised his eyes at her with an awaiting glance, while trying to hide the anger and sorrow that he had just felt.

[Alvena Celandine]

For a moment, Alvena was sure he would attack her if she stayed any longer, but he seemed to resign himself to a calmer state. She noticed that he thankfully averted his deathly glare from her, looking down at the ground. Whatever he had felt, it seemed to have subsided, at least for now. They stood in silence for what felt like hours to her as she thought of what she might say that wouldn't bother him. For the first time in her life, she was at a loss for words. Perhaps it was because she couldn't speak in Symenos, which reduced her confidence greatly, but mostly because she felt convinced that he would lash out at her again the moment she opened her mouth. Her turmoil showed on her face. "I was going to ask-- I-I'm sorry. I'll get out of your hair," She decided it was impossible to ignore his unexpected reaction and continue with the charade of being a friendly neighbor. She turned around sharply and started walking away, looking down in shame. She knew that she would have to fight prejudice and racism against her race, but her expectations never her warned her of the heavy, stinging pain centered around her chest as though the man's words had physically attacked her. She had underestimated the pain that could be wrought by emotions.

[Talen Stirling]

She was nothing like he expected. He felt increasingly confused – Instead of a monster she looked scared and uneasy. Rather than cruel she seemed to be normal, if not even kind… Which couldn’t be true? "I was going to ask-- I-I'm sorry. I'll get out of your hair," He was just about to speak an answer to her question when she turned around with a sad expression and walked out of the garden looking down into the ground. Talen stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her leave. Am I the villain…?. With a growl at himself, he shut the door and walked inside, sitting down abruptly in front of his half-burnt oatmeal, proceeding to eat abit out of the pot angrily. It tasted dull, with a faint smoked burnt flavour. If she was in Denval, perhaps she wasn’t like other… ‘Symenestra”? It might be a possibility. In truth he didn’t know much of them apart from an explanation of what “The Harvest” was… He shook his head, and put down the now half-empty pot on the ground, recalling the few words she’d spoken and how she had looked when he yelled at her. He’d have to at least give her a chance, despite everything. Talen got up, took a step over to the edge of the bed and pulled off his jacket hanging on the edge, throwing it around his shoulders and taking the sheathed sword that lay at the foot of his bed in one hand, weighing it while thinking. Should he follow his morning schedule or follow up on what had just happened? He shrugged, and walked over to the door, grabbing the triangular shield that was placed next to it on the inside. It looked rather inconspicuous, with a rather strange heraldry of an old bent gnarly tree on the front. Stepping outside in the garden Talen looked around and took a deep breath of air. It was hard to get his head into the training with thoughts of what had just happened running through his mind, but he would do so. He took up his position; the foot of his shield-arm forward behind the shield, and his sword held back to the side. His other foot was placed naturally at an angle for added balance and support. Talen looked at the house next door momentarily before beginning; he’d notice if she left the house while he was practicing. Perhaps he could catch her on the way ou— Enough. He began blocking imaginary blows, always aiming not to directly reflect it but send his opponents blade to the side or into the ground. Whenever he blocked a hit or sent his imaginary opponent off-balance he’d step to the side and swing at an opening. Rather than stepping backwards and blocking, Talen stepped forward whenever he warded off an imaginary attack, in order to take away the force of the blow. Basic combat stances to be sure, but only through rigorous training comes perfection. However, constantly watching the neighbouring house did provide abit of an distraction…

[Alvena Celandine]

She slammed the door a little harder than she usually did as she got back into the humble abode. She passed a hand through her long her hair, finding the soft texture of it to be rather relaxing. The ends were drying up; She probably needed to trim it a little. The broken glass was just as she had left it, and the clumsy event seemed like it had happened ages ago. She had almost forgotten about it. Sighing a little heavily, she squatted down near the mess, and started to pick up the larger shards one by one, placing them in her vacant hand. after she had picked up the larger pieces, she got up and placed them on the table, then got up and found a rag in the kitchen. She soaked up the water with it and picked up the remaining microscopic shards of glasses. Picking up the pieces of glass she had left on the table, she headed out to the garden to dispose of it in an empty flowerpot that seemed to serve as the house's garbage can, already containing random pieces of waste. As she walked outside into the sun once more, she noticed that the hostile stranger had also gone into his garden, with a sword and shield. I should be thankful he didn't attack me after all, she thought to herself, watching as he sparred with an imaginary opponent. She wouldn't want to get into a fight with someone well-versed in the arts of battle. She observed that his movements were slow enough for her to dodge, but he could easily use the advantage battle tactics to land a hit on her if he wanted to.