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| A Chance Opportunity; Jethro, Nausicaa and Foo :) | |
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| Topic Started: Sep 26 2011, 02:35 PM (495 Views) | |
| Foojoe | Sep 26 2011, 02:35 PM Post #1 |
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Ecce homo qui est faba
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The day was edging it's way into late afternoon when he entered the skirts of the town, warm sunlight edging everything with a gentle golden hue, the very scent of summer itself in the air, and a lucid breeze rustling through the foliage. A light strain of music trickled its way through the air, carried on the breeze, as long slender fingers plucked idly at the strings of a lute, supported by a strap around one shoulder as he trotted along the road. A light coating of dust had settled on his soft boots as he ambled along, quite lost in thought, one moment listening to the birds, the next apparently conversing with himself. "No no, just listen, and tell me what you think! No..NO..FLORENCE! Stop interrupting! I'll sing over you. I will! Shh!" Diadan 'Foojoe' Locke, stopped walking, and stroked his beard thoughtfully. "You are becoming quite a nuisance. You really shouldn't talk to someone of my standing like that. I could have you...arrested!" He roared with laughter suddenly, slapping his knee, then resumed his easy pace. "It'll be fine, we have enough for some supplies, sleeping outside is not beyond us entirely. No doubt they have a will for a story or two. Stop fretting!" He tickled the strings of his instrument with his fingertips, apparently soothed by the music, lapsed into a thoughtful silence, just the music, copying the calls of birds, the sound of the river, the turning of a leaf in the wind. After a moment a smile split his face near form ear to ear, and jaunting along kicking his feet out he assumed a ridiculous voice, strumming along happily, "Tiptoe, through the window, by the window, that is where I'll be, come tiptoe, through the tulips with meeeee!" The road eased to neat paved streets ahead, quiet and almost empty except for a few people going about their daily chores. Perhaps he should have stopped singing and dancing along, children playing in the street giggled and skipped along behind him as he adopted a hop-skip walk, twirling here, a light bounce there. "Oh tiptoe, from the garden, by the garden, of a willow tree, and tiptoe, through the tulips with meeee!" He laughed again, as light as musical as his instrument, eyes dancing with mirth, just a touch wild around the side, and turned into the main street beside the river with his entourage of younglings. (I claim no ownership for the song, by Tiny Tim :P) |
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| Deleted User | Sep 26 2011, 08:39 PM Post #2 |
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"Why are we doing this Jethro?" The man said as he dunked his hand back into the water, trying not to get too wet while he was immersed. "Oh you know that there aren't really jobs for people like us on this island...Why did we even think to come to this island?" Jethro was sitting on the side of a wishing fountain with his pack at his feet, leaning in to reach the better coins near the center. "You were thinking about islands and how you could easily find a crew. Why do I even have to tell you this? I swear, if I wasn't here than you would be useless." Jethro chuckled to himself after almost falling into the shallow wishing fountain. Just then he snagged a rather gnarled looking coin and stared at it for some time, flipping it over in his fingers. Suddenly his attention came to a man skipping down the road singing some sort of tune. "Well that's most definitely not something that you see everyday." He chuckled to himself as he went on trying to grasp another coin in the water. "Fancy that tune sir! Know anything from Angkar? I'd love to have one as I continue my fishing!" Jethro dove elbow deep into the fountain for an especially shiny coin. "Have to make money on this island somehow...no one needs someone like us." A smirk appears on his face as his tongue sticks out of his mouth onto his cheek. |
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| Nausicaa | Oct 1 2011, 11:28 AM Post #3 |
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"And what's someone like you?" Nausicaa had only overheard part of the conversation, having been distracted by the man singing to himself with his entourage of young children captivated by the music. She was naturally interested in him, of course, because she too was a singer, though she captivated others in different ways and never, ever targeted children. Although, she didn't often target men either, considering how many of them were naturally attracted towards her anyway. She had become distracted, however, by the conversation the two men were having at the fountain and for a moment her eyes had been drawn away from the singing stranger at the same time that one of the two nearby had been speaking to himself about a different song the other could sing. Unlike many who came this far out of their way, the island happened to be the naiad's home, the river Kaeyale where she hailed from. She had been to Hohoemi a handful of times in her life, it having been the nearest available city in her youth before she'd decided it was time to see the rest of her country. She'd only come back here from the mainland because it had been some time since she'd seen her mother and, unlike many travellers who came through here who were disgusted by the quietness that permeated the town, she actually enjoyed Hohoemi for what it was. Had the two men not seemed so put out by the lack of business (whatever business that happened to be, which was what she was curious about), she might not have paid them any heed. And had she not missed the first half of their conversation, she might not have needed to ask at all. Moving so that she was within their vicinity, Nausicaa's eyes remained rooted on the singing stranger, her sensitive hears picking up the pitches and tones of his melody, absently dissecting them. She was dressed in a sleeveless bodice that laced up the centre of her chest and pushed her breasts up, lilac in colour, a white skirt hemmed with elaborate lace, and a pair of boots with wooden heels that clicked with each step she took on the cobblestone streets completing the ensemble. Pallid and fair-skinned, her long watery hair was in spiralling ringlets today, parted only by the curved horns that extended out on either side of her head. She wondered if the singing man did know any other tunes—if he'd travelled as these two clearly had he probably would. She would have liked to hear a song from Angkar—she'd never been, but she'd heard stories from wayward travellers. Edited by MidnightShadow, Oct 2 2011, 01:56 PM.
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| Foojoe | Oct 1 2011, 09:54 PM Post #4 |
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Ecce homo qui est faba
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Pulling his jaunt up short, the Satyr stopped, staring at the man with one arm in the fountain. Apparently helping himself. "I do hope you're offering the dear fountain a good trade for those coins sir." Beaming happily he strolled over, strumming on his instrument idly, while he considered the request. "Angkar, Angkar....hmmmm....mmyes." Fingers nimbly plucking a cord, he struck a pose and cleared his throat while declaring loudly, "There once was a man from Angkar, who was a stupendous wan-!" He cut off short, glancing at the children, then at the pretty young woman moving towards them. Foojoe cleared his throat again. "Perhaps..not that one." Perching on the edge of the fountain he began to trickle out a stream of notes and with a fae smile, noted, "I heard this once from a mermaid. No don't say such things children, they are real! If I see her again I'll send her your way so that you might meet one!" Stopping for a moment he began to sing softly, then began to play again after a few words. "Well, I didn't tell anyone but a bird flew by, Saw what I'd done and set up a nest outside And he sang about what I'd become He sang so loud, Sang so clear, I was afraid all the neighbors would hear! So I invited him, just to reason with him, I promised I wouldn't do it again..." Here his music trailed to a halt then suddenly sprang up fierce as his fingers danced over the string, striking a frantic pace. "But he sang louder and louder inside the house, And now I couldn't get him out! So I trapped him under a box, And stood on it to make him stop! I picked up the bird and above the din, I said 'That's the last song you'll ever sing..' Held him down and broke his neck, Taught him a lesson he wouldn't forget!" His fingers seemed to falter again, rolling softly as he lowered his voice to accompany the lull in the pace. "And in my dreams, began to creep, That old, familiar...tweet...tweet...tweet." Resuming the pace he laughed heartily, tapping his foot along in time to the rhythm of the song. "I opened my mouth to scream and shout, I waved my arms and flapped about But I couldn't scream, I couldn't shout! The song was coming from my mouth! From my mouth... The song was coming, from my mouth!" He halted here, letting the frail notes trickle into the sky. "She fled at this point, humans gathering shells on the beach frightened her away you see. Oh well. A fun song, don't you think? Ahahahaa..." Removing a small glinting Essirian coin from his pocket he looked to the children, already dispersing, a few still loitering and eyeing the three with curiosity. "Is there a rule to you Mr. Fountain? Or just the standard regulations hmm? Well, I'll trade you one shiny coin, for one less than shiny and substantial, wish!" Flicking the coin, it sailed into the air with a wink of light before hitting the water with a faint splash. "What?! It's my wish Florence, you can't ask for peaches! No! There will always be more peaches later! You don't even like peaches!" |
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| Deleted User | Oct 8 2011, 06:45 AM Post #5 |
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The words hit than the click clack of the wooden soles on the cobblestone walkway that would be the main street of the small town. Jethro cocked his head a bit as he took in this woman scantily clad in the right areas. The man's mouth opened, most likely to say something stupid but he was interrupted. Another man walked up singing a song that Jethro had never heard before. "Well I'm definitely not Peter Piper for children like this one here." Jethro said after the song was finished, taking his hand out of the fountain. "I'm just a mercenary who is looking for work to pay his way to a larger port for a trip of some importance." He couldn't help but look between the two of them. The woman than the man, continuously. "What odd circumstances have brought this weird mixture of people to us at the fountain today Jethro?" He said to himself as he quickly looked down. "Could be a fortunate set of circumstances, or could be a very bad set of circumstances...Let us wait it out and see..." The man ended his short conversation with looking back up at the two, putting another coin in his pouch and shaking off his now wet arm. |
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| Nausicaa | Oct 20 2011, 09:00 PM Post #6 |
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Nausicaa caught herself humming along with his song once she'd caught on to the tune, her voice quiet but melodious, easily drowned out by the player's own voice. This was intended, of course, because she didn't want to steal the spotlight from him. When the song ended she found herself nodding, saying to the children, "Oh yes, mermaids do exist. I've seen one or two in my lifetime, just on the beaches, but I've never spoken to one." And there were reasons for that, of course. At the time she had believed that she was confined strictly to fresh water and mermaids to saline, but had later discovered that that was not the case at all. She could, however, confirm that the creatures at least existed, though looking at the satyr in front of her, it would have been hard to disagree with that fact now, considering how outlandish he himself looked. As far as she could tell, she and the satyr stood out the most, being the apparently only non-humans within the vicinity. "I wouldn't say that I'm necessarily a piper, certainly not of children anyhow, but I guess you could say I have some talent." A bit of an understatement, considering how often she charmed men—and women, if she felt so inclined—with the sound of her voice; a voice, it was said, that belonged to the sirens. And while Nausicaa herself couldn't say for certain, some did believe that she had siren blood running through her veins. "A trip of some importance? To where, pray tell?" It was the last question she would ask of him for the time being, her attention now diverted to the odd satyr. "Florence? Who are you speaking to?" The naiad eyed him quizzically as she watched the bard struggle with himself in front of the fountain. Unless he was referring to the man who had been there when she'd come across the scene—the one who was apparently called Jethro—then she wasn't sure who the creature's imaginary friend was. Or why he wanted peaches. She laughed quietly, a sound akin to that of tinkling bells, and looked towards Jethro, her sapphire eyes mischievous as she turned to face the two men fully. "The circumstances may be neither, or both. And they could be overwhelming. But in the end, they'll only be what you make of them." And right now I find them absolutely peculiar, she thought, her eyes flicking back to the other. Maybe the bard was missing a few screws. It seemed probable. |
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| Foojoe | Nov 17 2011, 04:04 PM Post #7 |
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Ecce homo qui est faba
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Foojoe was no longer certain what was going on, his little game had all gone up in the air as the children clamored around the lady asking about mermaids, a rather distractingly attractive lady too. He realized he was humming and tugging on his earlobe again, as he seemed to do when viewing particularly fine specimens, and caught himself, turning his attention to turning his lute instead. She wasn't human, that much was apparent from the horns on her head, if not the unusual hair. A spirit then, perhaps? Though she walked among people with a no-nonsense air of familiarity. The man was still fishing for coins in the fountain, and not giving a fair trade either. He should at least give it back something, like the nice shapely stones they were walking on. It never occurred to Foojoe that tearing out the cobblestones and dunking them in the fountain might annoy the residents, but, he wasn't the one taking the coins and so, he owed nothing. At least not yet. "No one!" He blurted, then bit his tongue. She asked! She asked the unknowable thing that no one must know because it is unknowable! ...and what a delicious voice. Like maple syrup. Mmm... The Satyr found himself quite enchanted with this strange horned woman, his gaze flicking back between her and Jethro, still fishing before he shrugged, offered a lopsided grin and said, "As long as it doesn't involve me dressing in women's clothing and doing a jig around a small wooden chair six times, I am most interested. No Foojoe that sounded foolish, say something else. Uh. There are more than two thousand five hundred species of mayfly in the world! ..No that won't do say something witty...There is a small turnip in my left coat pocket!" He paused in the uncomfortable silence and cleared his throat. "Nevermind." He fiddled with the pegs on the lute, his fingers brushing the strings again and shifting nervously from foot to foot. What a pickle. |
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| Nausicaa | Nov 26 2011, 02:03 PM Post #8 |
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What an odd creature, she thought as her delicate brow knitted together for a moment before her face relaxed and the lines smoothed away to reveal a crease-less visage. He seemed quite distraught at her question regarding "Florence," who was apparently no one at all. Odd. An imaginary friend, as they said? Or perhaps a figment of his imagination that wasn't necessarily a friend, but was there all the same? Either way, she found it bizarre, but not as bizarre as she found his use of the the third person and his tangent to be. Biting back the giggle that threatened to make a mockery out of him, she managed to extract herself from the small group of children to stand closer to him. The man fishing in the fountain for coin seemed to be too preoccupied now to pay them any heed. "Has that ever happened to you? Being dressed in women's clothing and dancing around a wooden chair?" One of Nausicaa's eyebrows arched, a smile twitching at the corner of her lips. Even if he didn't think he was being witty, she found him to be, and not because what he actually said was exceptionally witty—it was the absurdity of it all. As if what he said was actually serious to begin with. Nausicaa couldn't tell if he was always like this, or if this occasion was somehow special. She didn't really see how it could be, but there were clearly things about him that she didn't know and couldn't possibly fathom. "Are you alright? I'm afraid you might wear a hole through the floor and I don't think that would be very good. Maybe you should sit down, breathe a little. I hear it's good for you." This time she did laugh, a sound that came across like bells tinkling quietly, her sapphire eyes dancing. |
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