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Posted: Thu Jul 21, 2011 12:06 pm
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The Fair was lit up in a whirlwind of colorful splendor, towers of wooden thrill rides rising in the distance against a dusky, lilac sky reminded one faintly of an abstract, watercolor painting. The Majerae had been working their magic to provide the rainbow-like variety of lighting which winked from a great distance at any passer-by who happened to spot the attraction perched within the grand field at the edge of a long and winding dirt road. The Kryenae members lent their telekinetic gifts to keep the rides air born and it seemed an easy enough, and quite enjoyable, task for those involved as they perched contentedly at their posts. A wide variety of Kats in every shape, size and color gathered here, the workers identifiable by their colorful and unique garb. This troupe of Kats were well known in the immediate area and had been wondered after and spoken of often in the bigger cities which bared their welcoming, exotic posters on the hides of several buildings and bordering walls.
The fair itself was of breathtaking size and offered several points of interests for a wide variety of tastes. From classic attractions like rides, games and fortune tellers, exotic animal familiars in amazing acts with their handlers to delicious foods and daring feats performed by highly skilled and well trained members of the troupe. The air smelled sweet and fresh, incense from the seer’s tent burning calmly in its holder as she read the fortune of two young lovers. Yet she felt uneasy suddenly and seemed to be keeping an eye in the direction of the dirt path that was too far for anyone without some kind of gift to mind. The wind blew ill this night, something was coming.
A large, buff looking male with a pelt like desert sand, dressed in a brown, leather vest and his ears adorned with golden hoops, gave a handsome grin from the entrance, calling in curious onlookers who were not quite brave enough to enter. “Come, come now dear patrons! Step inside and behold a spectacular spectacle like none other in all of Faetasia! Are you brave enough to ride the Lost Tower? Can you smell the delicious desserts from our finest bakers? No worries, our hygiene is impeccable! We may be rogues and tramps but we do have standards ladies and gentlekats!” Laughter arose from the group surrounding that gate and they seemed to be slowly easing up. “Or are you the more adventuresome types? Seeking daring acts from our skilled performers? Exotic animals and Kats from lands afar? We have that and much more my dear guests so why are you still standing around? Come now! Inside we go!” The laughter of young Kats was audible as they rushed their parents and the other patrons inside. The adults, having had their interests peaked, seemed more excited and wide-eyed as they followed after. The male at the gate resumed his post and gave a toothy grin for a job well done.
Further into the heart of the fair stood a large tent of mysterious origin and purpose, the faint sound of metal cymbals and other hard to identify instruments wafting from within, drawing in patrons at random as they were caught up in a spell of sound. The canvas and canopy were of a rich and deep royal purple that was fantastic to behold and concealed well the enigma within. It was adorned with intricate patterns sewn in gold, faintly glowing, thread and marked the constellations as they had been mapped by the artist. The opening, enchanted to lift and allow patrons entrance, betrayed a hint of the interior. Fireflies danced hypnotically in lanterns hung strategically from the ceiling and soft golden light played down from above, illuminating the figure of a dancer center-stage. Her lithe movements and long, fiery hair, swaying gently in time to the soft, foreign music while her body cut through a soft layer of smoke and light conjured by tiny sticks of incense and in a moment the vision was gone, veiled once more by the royal cloth that rose and fell of its own accord.
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Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2011 12:07 pm
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The soft clinking of the cymbals and the deep beating of the drums evoked such a tribal, primal wave of euphoria as it echoed out across the tent, enveloping it's listeners in a world far beyond this one. The dancer moved to the beat, her body no longer flesh and blood but something 'other' than mortal, like a muse come to tell the story of creation from within the embrace of perfumed mists. The heart beating beneath the flesh of the storyteller had felt a sudden wave of anxiety come and go as the door to the tent opened and shut, allowing in the a new and unseen patron. Though slightly confused the nervousness was immediately forgotten and her paws wound an intricate pattern on the dance floor, hips rolling and arms weaving as her claws clicked together the tiny golden instruments and the gemstones, coins and silken fabrics which adorned her body in splendors of gold and green flashed in the low lighting. The spell was woven with each new movement of her body and each flash of her luminous, knowing eyes.
Lillian breathed deep the exotically perfumed smoke and steadied her heart in order to clear her mind. She loved this dance, loved it with every fiber of her being. It was a dance of creation, the birth of the soul and of conciousness. It had been taught to her by her grandmother from a very early age and she had spent her lifetime perfecting it as best she could. As far back as she could remember she had always been here with the troupe, as had her parents before their deaths. She was born to this nomadic lifestyle and relished every moment of it. She loved the history of this band of rogues and the fact that it was in her blood thrilled her to no end, igniting her passion for the arts, stories and folklore of both her own and others cultures. Her long hair swept down her back like fire, a few braids woven here and there, it appeared to almost glow in a spectral manner as she turned her back on them and her hips swayed. As the music faded so did she, the incense thickening to cover her as she slipped from the room and the music ended with two, thunderous drum beats. They resonated deeply, as if summoning the end of all things.
It didn't take her long to change, she wasn't the type that sought attention and had no intention of wandering the fairgrounds in her dancers attire. With a bright, red apple clutched tenderly in one paw she wound her way through the heart of the fairgrounds, her ears hearing but paying no mind to the applause she had recieved which was soon silence by the next act, the exotic animal set filing into the tent to show of their wonderous and exotic creatures from afar! Or so Zindelo would likely have said from his perch upon the gate. She had always like Zindelo, he was an honest Kat with a wonderful family and somehow, while she enjoyed the comfort and happiness he must have felt, she did not envy him. Perhaps her lack of desire in having her own husband stemned from her fear that it could easily be taken away and while she did not mourn any longer for her parents she feared sharing their demise, it had happened so soon after their lives had been completed by her birth.
The long fence that wound its way around the fairgrounds stretched on like a snake, to her right lay the mobile trailers and carts where the troupe lived and as she passed she spotted something she hadn't seen before. A shiver coursed its way along her spine and confusion wormed its way deep into her mind. Nailed hastily to the planks was a large, silver cross. Her eyebrows furrowed softly as she stood before it, eyes flashing wonderingly in the artificial lights. Who on earth had.. ah! But she knew.. grandmother. But the cross wasn't what bothered her, it was the act of placing it on the gate and it could only mean that grandmother was afraid of something. Were there thieves? Demons? She often spoke of monsters and spirits in the woods but sometimes she made mistakes, like calling that city Kat a succubus last year. Turning abruptly on her heel she headed for the seer's tent which lay just on the other side of this mass, it was like a maze here and the wooden trailers, with their lanters flickering eerily in the night, reminded her of a story from her childhood about a ghost ship and a boy who sought immortality from a chalice in the captains quarters. She smirked and took a small bite out of her apple as she began to walk. The seer's tent her chalice and the trailers her ghost ship.
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Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2011 12:48 pm
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Posted: Tue Aug 23, 2011 7:37 am
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A cold, cold chill seemed to wind its way up the delicate curve of her spine and she instinctively wrapped her arms, apple in paw, about herself as he walked. A low fog was crawling its way across the cool, dew laden, grass and cool, soft earth below her footpaws. A frown had marked itself upon her furrowed brow and those intelligent eyes flashed briefly with a sense of foreboding. The moment the candlelight flickered she felt her breath catch in her throat and half wondered, half panicked. Something was wrong. But reasoning begged to differ. What was wrong? Was she certain? It was just another night, this wasn’t the first evening that the fog had rolled in early or that rogue breezes threatened the beating hearts of their candlelight. She mustn’t let her imagination get the better of her. What would Grandmother think? ‘Get the garlic!’ That’s what Grandmother would think.
A warm, hearty laughter echoed from her as she continued onward, her long, beautiful hair caught by the firelight and enhanced to resemble a color like that of ruby or flame. Another bite of her apple as the faint sounds of the fair filled her senses; she was still too far away to really make sense of the noises which sounded faintly arcane to her ears. The cabin boy and the eternal; chalice. It felt a weird tale to be fixated upon but it wasn’t truly so, she’d loved the story from a time long before she had the motor skills to stand upright and remembered well hearing it often at her Grandmothers knee, her parents listening close by. Such a long time ago. Her heart fluttered softly, ached softly as she remembered. She didn’t speak often of them, Grandmother; Lillian supposed it hurt her just as much. But stories would have been nice. It never hurt to remember what it had been like once. What she wished it still was.
Her body froze in place, her eyes widening as she felt a cold grip of unease seize her and she shivered involuntarily against it. The females’ heart began to race as her breaths came quickly even as she tried to force herself to try and calm them. Something was wrong. It wasn’t in her mind or a figment of her exceptionally active imagination. No, no. Suddenly she felt like a little, lost sheep all alone outside of her shepherds keep. She shouldn’t be alone. She needed to be back in the crowd and away from this solitary prison of wooden caravans which were marked by flickering candlelight and now almost seemed to loom and leer from their perches. She had never felt so uncomfortable in her own fairgrounds before but this feeling she couldn’t shake scared her in a way she had never before experienced. Forcing her body to move she continued, her paws falling a little faster than before. Her mind clear and observant to every movement as she passed for in every shadow loomed a wolf.
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Posted: Sun Sep 11, 2011 12:26 am
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Posted: Sun Sep 11, 2011 2:26 am
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Lillian had begun to walk faster and was now close to jogging, not a run nor was it fast paced, but it was quicker than a walk. She didn’t like the feeling that seemed to be strangling her, a cold feeling of danger that she couldn’t quite shake. Her breathing was even but her heartbeat continued to flutter wildly in her chest and as she looked back to sate the feeling that she was being followed her body hit a brick wall. Hitting the ground hard on her backside she grimaced, her long hair spilling over her face and shoulders, obscuring her view. What had she hit? It had to be something pretty solid like a wall or at least one of the carts. As she glimpsed a figure through the mess of fiery locks her heart froze in her chest. It was a Kat? There was no way.
“I.. please forgive me.” She breathed, not entirely sure why she felt so small all of a sudden. Her head was still swimming from the collision and she was almost certain if she stood up right away she’d end up right back on the ground again. Rocking her body a little in order to straighten her spine she felt the muscles groan in protest, she’d be lucky not to have an ugly bruise on her behind in the morning. “I didn’t mean to.. hurt you if I did, sir.” For some reason this felt weak to her, in fact, he didn’t even seem to be affected in the least. The image of a gnat running into an elephant pranced its way through her mind but she didn’t find it as funny as she might normally have.
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Posted: Sun Sep 11, 2011 2:40 am
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Posted: Mon Sep 12, 2011 6:56 am
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The closer he got the faster her heartbeat picked up a feeling in-between wild attraction and feral terror sweeping through her body all at once and causing her head to spin. If she couldn’t feel the cool, dry earth beneath her paws she would swear she’d stood up. Her dark lashes brushed her cheek as she blinked up at him, her vision returned by the gentle brush of his claw tips. A tremor ran through her body at the closeness of him but even this reaction confused her. She felt so like a mouse caught by the cat after a long chase and the feeling of entrapment made her shiver again but her fears had, as of yet, been unfounded. Perhaps this stranger was simply that, just a lost stranger. Her instincts begged to differ but her mild naivety helped to cloud her complete distrust.
“You are kind, sir and I thank you for your concern..” She wanted to back away a little, allow for some safe distance but the closeness of him almost forbade any such action and his presence was everywhere, coating the air in a kind of cool, dark layer she couldn’t untangle her intrigue from. Blinking her rich, though rather normal, green eyes blinked up at him from her position she wondered where he’d come from, was he part of the troupe now? It was possible as they were always getting rogues and she hadn’t seen him at all, not in any of the towns and countries they’d passed through though he did appear as though this lifestyle was not unfamiliar to him in one form or another. The low firelight from the lamps surrounding them flickering under the pressure of a fairly strong breeze and causing the trees just outside the gates to groan in protest. “Have you come to join the troupe? Forgive me if I come across as nosy it’s just I haven’t seen you before and normally fair patrons don’t wander this far into our encampment… too spooky for townies.” She said, managing a faint smile in the faint darkness.
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Posted: Mon Sep 12, 2011 7:17 am
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Posted: Mon Sep 12, 2011 7:52 am
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Lillian felt weightless as she was hoisted upward, as though she weighed no more than a feather but that was not as unusual as some Kats did possess great strength and he appeared as if he might have little difficulty with weight. She as well, though not averse to hard work, had no great love for dirt or being filthy. Brushing any clinging remnants of earth from her body she narrowed her eyes in distaste and lifted her lengthy locks over one shoulder for good measure. The sharp scent of smoke filled her nostrils and suddenly she had a craving, Lillian had no taste for cigarettes as some of the others did but she did take some delight in smoking cigars as her papa had done when she was young. It was a nostalgic smell, cigar smoke, and she found herself asking before she could think. “Do you have another of those, sir?” She seemed a little less timid now that he’d stated his position, somewhat, yet she still held back her full trust. It did not do to trust completely. “It must be the carts, they often give newcomers and strangers the chills. All the better. There is often a rather haunted feeling around this area, no doubt egged on by my grandmothers Draba.”
His dialect caught her off guard and even more so as she felt herself slipping back into old tongue so easily. He spoke as her grandmother did, and while she herself did not commonly use such words, she was raised partially on tradition and partially on what was considered modern, she did understand and decided she might as well use her knowledge to perhaps glean some information from him. If there were a rival show close by it would serve her family well to find out what she could. They had many ‘Old Friends’ and not all were terribly ‘Friendly’. “I was not aware that there was another Kumpania traveling these Vurma so closely. Have you been Baro long?” He didn’t appear to be a low man on the totem pole and she doubted if he were the type to be prancing about on stage nightly giving shows to earn wage. No, he had experience and she supposed it was better if she keep her knowledge and helpfulness to herself, just in case. Better safe than sorry. Her mind worked quickly as she took him in and even more quickly as she figured out how she might use this meeting to her advantage.
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Posted: Tue Sep 13, 2011 10:23 pm
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 8:15 pm
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"A habit passed down from my father. The smell of cigar smoke is quite pleasant on a fine evening, do you not agree?" Lillian was hard pressed to hold back the flame of a smile that lifted her lips, her eyes dancing after his every movement exhuding the air of a child set before a magicians stage. The cigar now in her posession made the conversation all the sweeter, giving it a quick light and a slow drag she exhaled softly before her eyes slid up to observe his face, cigar perched between her teeth expertly while she spoke. "Ah, my mistake. I should not have assumed you were burdened by a large Kumpania." But she was careful not to believe everything she heard, he wouldn't be the first to play off his Kumpania as being small, she'd seen such tactics used before to place rivals at ease, but she was no fool. "You say you were young? Ah! But you look young still. You cannot be so old.." She chuckled, the cigar still perched until she removed it and dispelled some of the ash.
The wind howled low, causing the flames to flicker in their beds and creating a stir in the shadows. It truly did feel haunted in this place, even as a child she felt the stir of spirits here which was not helped by her Grandmothers stories and superstitions. "I feel old some nights, old in my spirit. Once my Grandmother is gone I will be the last of my family to roam this maze of carvans and entertain these patrons.." Her gaze drifted away, to the woods, the firey hue of her hair lit by the eerie glow. "I wonder if staying is worth it. There are other places to visit, are there not? I feel that itch. Oh! Forgive me.. I seem to be rambling." A slow drag on the clove cigar, followed by another soft exhale of smoke. "You don't need to stand here and bore yourself with my wandering tongue." Why was she telling him this? She had completely lost her mind, she needed to get back on track. "Since you are from another Kumpania, dear Baro, was there something that 'this' humble entertainer might help you with?" He must have a motive for snooping around, she'd find out what it was or help him find the exit, either way, but she would be gracious about it. He had not been unkind to her and had been, in fact, quite the opposite. She would show him just as much courtesy.
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