Assignment 1: A Childhood Memory
I sort of cheated on Assignment 1 by RPing my scene from Sefton's past, so here's something to make up for it. If you have read this log, (and you must) then you will remember Penny's memory of Sefton fishing her out of the river. This is how it happened.
He is a slender child, face dominated by the huge dark eyes that are his region's trademark, shock of black curls standing out in every direction. Over the next three turns he will shoot up, gaining height and breadth. Just now, at the age of nine, there is not a hint to be had that one day he will be tall, heavy-set and broad shouldered.
He's holding centre stage, performing an imitation of their latest tutor. He's got his fishing rod in one hand, and he's waving it around like a pointer, pitching his voice towards a pompous Telgari accent. He could improve on the tone, but he has the language pinned with devastating accuracy. The large group of boys in the meadow are howling, alternately pushing forward to take their dressing down in a frenzy of anticipation, and cringing back to avoid the skewering they secretly seek.
Merrik is already a head above Sefton, although he's only two turns older. At a mighty eleven, he's nominally in charge, but he has his hands full of his squirming three turn old brother. Rali is as sturdy as his minder, and has realised that beside them, Kelar has given up and set the Master Smith's daughter on the ground. The only female present, she is fat-cheeked and laughing, too small to appreciate Sefton's satire. She is hugging Kelar's leg, his hand resting on her head as an extra security measure.
But he is only eight, and at three, she cannot be expected to stand still for very long. Her gaze is straying, and when Kelar's hand comes away from her head to clap over his mouth, she takes her chance. Sturdy little legs carry her several steps away, but in her excitement she has accelerated too fast, and her small arms come up to windmill in delight as she looses control and picks up speed. Rali is watching, and throws himself rigid in Merrik's firm grip with a howl of protest as he watches his playmate receding. It is an unusual sound from the laughing toddler, and Sefton falls silent to cast an enquiring glance towards Merrik. His cousin is already looking for the source of his charge's distress.
"Shells!"
"Fraggit!"
"Kel!"
Merrik and Kelar realise at the same time, swinging around in unison -- the rest of the group are only a moment behind them, alerted by the delighted squeal and the splash that sound in quick succession. For several seconds every boy is frozen, then there's a chorus of shouts, and the whole group charges towards the river bank. Three more splashes sound one after the other as Sefton, Kelar and Yannel throw themselves in after her, fully clothed.
It is Sefton who surfaces with her wriggling in his arms. Collective breaths are held, and there's not a trace of the young lordling's usual smile as he hefts her in his arms, scrambling until he has a foothold where the water begins to shallow. He's not a large boy, and her writhing nearly pushes him under at one point. Then collective shoulders are lowered, sighs of relief breathed as her laughing squeal sounds once more.
"Seffin, I was swimming!"
She's chortling, utterly fearless, trying to wrap chubby fingers around his soaked mop of curls as he hands her up to the waiting arms on the bank. Kelar's already backing up as his brother turns, and there's not a hint of a smile as Sefton dives back after Penny's alleged supervisor, already confident enough at nine to hurl himself into the current in pursuit of Kelar.
The younger of the two is gasping and coughing by the time Sefton releases his hold on his hair, and lets him lift his head from the water to breathe.
Photo taken by Penny's player.
He is a slender child, face dominated by the huge dark eyes that are his region's trademark, shock of black curls standing out in every direction. Over the next three turns he will shoot up, gaining height and breadth. Just now, at the age of nine, there is not a hint to be had that one day he will be tall, heavy-set and broad shouldered.
He's holding centre stage, performing an imitation of their latest tutor. He's got his fishing rod in one hand, and he's waving it around like a pointer, pitching his voice towards a pompous Telgari accent. He could improve on the tone, but he has the language pinned with devastating accuracy. The large group of boys in the meadow are howling, alternately pushing forward to take their dressing down in a frenzy of anticipation, and cringing back to avoid the skewering they secretly seek.
Merrik is already a head above Sefton, although he's only two turns older. At a mighty eleven, he's nominally in charge, but he has his hands full of his squirming three turn old brother. Rali is as sturdy as his minder, and has realised that beside them, Kelar has given up and set the Master Smith's daughter on the ground. The only female present, she is fat-cheeked and laughing, too small to appreciate Sefton's satire. She is hugging Kelar's leg, his hand resting on her head as an extra security measure.
But he is only eight, and at three, she cannot be expected to stand still for very long. Her gaze is straying, and when Kelar's hand comes away from her head to clap over his mouth, she takes her chance. Sturdy little legs carry her several steps away, but in her excitement she has accelerated too fast, and her small arms come up to windmill in delight as she looses control and picks up speed. Rali is watching, and throws himself rigid in Merrik's firm grip with a howl of protest as he watches his playmate receding. It is an unusual sound from the laughing toddler, and Sefton falls silent to cast an enquiring glance towards Merrik. His cousin is already looking for the source of his charge's distress.
"Shells!"
"Fraggit!"
"Kel!"
Merrik and Kelar realise at the same time, swinging around in unison -- the rest of the group are only a moment behind them, alerted by the delighted squeal and the splash that sound in quick succession. For several seconds every boy is frozen, then there's a chorus of shouts, and the whole group charges towards the river bank. Three more splashes sound one after the other as Sefton, Kelar and Yannel throw themselves in after her, fully clothed.
It is Sefton who surfaces with her wriggling in his arms. Collective breaths are held, and there's not a trace of the young lordling's usual smile as he hefts her in his arms, scrambling until he has a foothold where the water begins to shallow. He's not a large boy, and her writhing nearly pushes him under at one point. Then collective shoulders are lowered, sighs of relief breathed as her laughing squeal sounds once more.
"Seffin, I was swimming!"
She's chortling, utterly fearless, trying to wrap chubby fingers around his soaked mop of curls as he hands her up to the waiting arms on the bank. Kelar's already backing up as his brother turns, and there's not a hint of a smile as Sefton dives back after Penny's alleged supervisor, already confident enough at nine to hurl himself into the current in pursuit of Kelar.
The younger of the two is gasping and coughing by the time Sefton releases his hold on his hair, and lets him lift his head from the water to breathe.
Photo taken by Penny's player.