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Post by Deleted on Nov 4, 2013 18:25:00 GMT -6
[[NOTE: This thread takes place not at the current tavern, but at the RUINS and monument of the OLD TAVERN.]]
Dust. Frost. Dirt. Garbage. Corpses. Fallen leaves. Piles of rotten wood. Forgotten belongings. Discarded building materials. They were all just different forms of decay, weren't they? They were all just symptoms. Things that the land, and the people, no longer needed, or wanted. Things that were now the only things keeping a lonely dark figure in the woods alive. Slowly, and so timidly, there was a figure that appeared at the edge of the Pan'Do forest. Unlike Pan'Ti, it crept up right to the back of the town of Wildgard itself, yet few bothered to wander its trees. It was quieter, and lonelier than its sister forest. And yet, the two had once been connected, living together as one ecosystem. It was fitting somehow, that Wildgard was the town that now held the two apart. And even more fitting, perhaps, that a certain person was now stalking the shadows near its borders. A small patch of land was barren, except dust and debris that still littered the scarred earth. In the center of the forlorn scar, there was something built of stone. A monument. This was the dark figure's destination. At last, he was forced out of the shadows and into the dim luminescence of twilight. Now, the emaciated appearance of the tall elf, black as night itself, could be made out, and his white hair drifted in the cold wind from underneath his hood. With a bony hand, he tucked it away, then griped his staff again. He was supporting himself on it with both arms, appearing centuries old now, though his steps were still somewhat swift, and one could see that grace that used to be in his stride.
At the stone pillar, Psylar dropped to his knees. He was small, and appeared fragile this way, as the blacks, browns, and purples of his clothing drifted around him. He could see for sure now that yet another piece of his past had been burned down into nothing but charred remains beneath him. Quietly, with tears slowly falling down to the earth beneath him, the elf wept.
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Thoror
Wildgardian
Dorf
Posts: 376
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Post by Thoror on Nov 4, 2013 22:05:42 GMT -6
Twilight had fallen over the stone pilliar; a monument to those killed in the tavern fire nearly one year ago. Shadows crept on their own like souls across the charred rubble, sneaking into corners and crevices and matching the colour of the night sky. A short man approached with a blanket in hand. The monument stood tall before him, the only thing not yet completely black. He moved some planks out of the way before setting the folded cotton down, then replaced the charred boards and stood up. It was a tribute, as requested by the spirits that haunted this ground. A little something to keep their hearts warm in the winter.
Thoror looked around; someone was here. His eyes, though no longer as good as they once were in darkness, spotted a figure clad in browns and purples. He was pitch black and frail, and...familliar. The Dwarf took slow steps to this person, wondering if it could truly be who he thought it was, and with the faintest hope in his heart that they were followed by who he thought they were.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 8, 2013 0:51:00 GMT -6
Psylar's elven senses were very keen, especially at night, as per the traits of his race. And yet, the dark figure, thin limbs resembling a tree more than anything else, didn't react at all. He merely stayed frozen in place, the occasional tear still falling from his nose, or the point of his chin, though he was no longer truly crying. Only the barely visible pattern of his breathing discerned him as more alive than the monument he was crumpled in front of, and even that could have been debatable. The shadow of a being was elsewhere; in the shadows of his own memories.
"Oh look, the human with pointy ears." came the gruff voice, as a large figure loomed in the doorway of the tavern. Most of the light was blocked out, so only the outline of the large bear could be seen. And yet, a quick as a flash, Jubilee had risen in confrontation. "I AM NOT! I'm an elf, like I told you before! Juu - bill - eeeeeeeeee. The woood - laaand EEEELF." she empasised, her voice rising and falling with her temperament. Her red paint was smudged on her cheeks as she'd been cleaning off the food and drink she'd managed get on her skin. She'd always been a little too enthused with everything, which also included meals. Turning towards his sister's commotion, Psylar gave a small genuine smile. His table was empty, except for the two plates and two decanters that belonged to him and the over-energized woodland elf. He watched, rather amused, as wizard and scout once again interacted head to head in a battle of wit (or lack thereof). It wasn't the first time. In fact, it had happened several times just in that day. The two strong personalities just couldn't seem to stop rubbing up against each other, though there was still no animosity between the two. He couldn't help but laug, as the scene just seemed to get more and more ridiculous. However, he glanced over to the half-dwarf that ran the tavern, and saw the exasperation in the man's face. 'Or, well.. woman...?' he corrected himself, unsure, in his head. The bartender was neither, or both, though he kept it out of his mind as it wasn't his business. Though the child, Jewel, really did confuse him, as he thought about how he'd probably never know how the little niece of his had come to be. Shaking his head, he cleared his his head, and then his throat. "Jubilee! Come back here, before your food is cold. Let the bear get to her business here - and like-wise with your spouse." He felt his face part somewhat in a grin, but it vanished quickly as he felt his voice draw attention from other patrons in the bar. Immediately, he dug back into his own food.
" 'Human with pointy ears'... That bear... ugh." came the sound of discontented mumbling that marked his sister's return to the table.
Now, he couldn't help it and he laughed in full. "Jubilee, calm down! You're being silly!" His laughter was loud, and sudden, and rolled over the dust and rubble of the 'Tavern' he'd been sitting in only a mere second ago. Psylar looked up and over his left shoulder, expecting to see the flushed face of his sister. Except, he didn't. The darkness, and the realness of where he was once more crushed him. And rather than seeing Jubilee, he saw nothing. Blackness, emptiness, a giant gaping hole where an entire part of his soul had once been. Now all that was left...
"...Thoror." he whispered. For a moment, his face lifted, then crashed down again. He continued, though he was no longer really addressing he half-dwarf. "But it can't be... I guess I'm just seeing you too then..."
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Thoror
Wildgardian
Dorf
Posts: 376
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Post by Thoror on Nov 11, 2013 20:31:38 GMT -6
The Dwarf stopped in his tracks when the figure blurted out. Nonsense. Just nonsense. But it was him. It was really him. Could she be here too? He started faster towards the sitting figure and was greeted with sad whispers.
"Psylar." He said in a clear voice. "Am I seeing you too?"
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Post by Deleted on Nov 12, 2013 18:57:05 GMT -6
"With what eyes... would an apparition... see?" he scoffed. Psylar didn't even deign to turn his head towards the dwarf. 'No. He's not there... remember... here's not there... ignore it... just... go... AWAY...' Hands burrowed their way into his layers of clothing, though it almost seemed like it was of their own accord. It felt as the the elf was merely along for the ride, no matter what road his instincts were driving him down. Then they appeared again, and darted into action. Across his back there was a rolled up sheet of fabric, he used it as his bag. This, he untied, his unsteady hands fumbling with the knot on his chest, and with a soft thump it landed beside him. He dragged in front of him, and placed his hands on it. It was almost as though he was trying to make sure it still existed...
"...unlike you... No... No, you don't exist... Not... Not since we left... Just like her..."
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Thoror
Wildgardian
Dorf
Posts: 376
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Post by Thoror on Nov 12, 2013 20:05:21 GMT -6
The Dwarf's face pulled into a worried half-smile and he chuckled, not knowing why. "It's been a long time, Psylar." He put a hand on the Elf's shoulder, far softer than usual. "Welcome back."
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Post by Deleted on Nov 12, 2013 20:45:35 GMT -6
"Welcome!?"
His hands drew back from the clock sack in front of him as he jerked away from the first physical contact he'd had in weeks. It was the first time Psylar had actually felt one of his hallucinations touch him, beyond a simple graze, or breath, or breeze. His heart was suddenly hammering in his chest, as he scrambled away. "None of this was 'Welcome'! None of it! Everything that's happened. And you- whatever I could consider you to be... just a figment of my mind... this isn't 'welcome'... I've never been welcome..."
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