(The Tower & Star only thread)bright_daughterFebruary 11 2012, 20:45:05 UTC
"So gloomy." Is the words that are said by the girl not-quite-sitting on the bar. The way people could not be called sitting if they were not actually touching the object on which one was supposed to be sitting. But part of her white skirt hung and gathered there.
"You would have them think the world was coming to an end." It might be this is said to the drink names, or to the general tension of the bar, but it is rather hard to tell, when she's smiling at her brother in such a bright, teasing fashioned.
Re: (The Tower & Star only thread)destroy_restartFebruary 11 2012, 20:54:50 UTC
"You know what they're like," Tower says, looking around for a drink he can nurse while bartending. "If they don't think the end of the world is final enough, then the new start and bright hope etcetera which comes afterwards doesn't shine quite as brightly."
(The Tower & Star only thread)bright_daughterFebruary 11 2012, 21:03:20 UTC
"Or they simply trample onward through it, unnoticing," Star leaned back on the air, looking up and smiling sudden at the image. "Like the knights, always and ever after bigger dragons to slay and-" She glanced at him, her smile almost too broad. "-castles to fell."
Though this place did call her. A quiet, quick needful theme of soonsoonsoonsoon the nearly verged on nownownownow. But not quite yet. The Path had a design, and a pattern. And they had to go to and through him first.
After finding the snake plague in the treefort yesterday, Tyler's been.. Well pretty hungry, the normal stores of food are gone and what roders he's placed with Bar have come out...not the same quality as usual. At this point, he knows both of these cards..
"....can I get a mug of ovaltine the size of my head for a card from each of you?"
"Duh," Tower says, showing him the card. It shows two angels on golden background, on the rim of a pitch-black lake in which a king, a monk, and a half-naked man are standing up to their waist. One angel is blowing a trumpet at them, the other pokes the lake with a pitchfork.
"Judgement," Tower says, shrugging, as if that was boringly unoriginal.
There is a worried concerned not'cat sitting on the bar with its tail coiled about its paws, eyeing the specials board, the bartenders, and the strange green crystal hanging over them all.
The Mogget has not liked the last few days. Not one bit.
The second word more an affectionate word than a title or a name. The same as that she simple reached out and brushes her fingers tips across the fur on top of his head, between his ears.
There's a young woman - dark skin, black curly hair, red uniform, rather pensive expression - considering the specials board from near the end of the bar. Her gaze is as much on the last line as it is on the double set of listed drinks.
She appears to be considering that last line's idea, at least a little.
"Everybody met us, one way or another," Tower says. "Have you ever been thrown off by fate, from something you thought was safe and familiar, but which broke down and threw you off, making you fly towards the unknown? That was me. And the bright hope you saw glittering in the distance, above the horizon, while you were utterly lost after that fall? That was her."
Star looked delighted though. A Star Childe. Her whole body shimmered with her joy. "Ideas Made Manifest, from the start to end of all life in existence."
He is not wholly serious - but her words make him pause. That and the way she looks at him. And so he starts over, with a more formal, "My lade, lord, no I do not know of these cards. But they sound - dangerous."
As all knowledge.
"I should like to try to listen to what they say."
Why shy from danger when it has been a constant companion for so long? And with knowledge as a prize? - How can he refuse that?
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"You would have them think the world was coming to an end." It might be this is said to the drink names, or to the general tension of the bar, but it is rather hard to tell, when she's smiling at her brother in such a bright, teasing fashioned.
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Though this place did call her. A quiet, quick needful theme of soonsoonsoonsoon the nearly verged on nownownownow. But not quite yet. The Path had a design, and a pattern. And they had to go to and through him first.
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"....can I get a mug of ovaltine the size of my head for a card from each of you?"
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He gets out the tin of ovaltine, and starts heating milk, enough to fill their largest mug. Largest mug meant for use by humans, that is.
While it heats up, he starts shuffling his cards; then, he fans them up and offers them to Tyler, neutral side up -- of course.
"Pick one!" he says.
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"That one..."
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"Judgement," Tower says, shrugging, as if that was boringly unoriginal.
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The Mogget has not liked the last few days. Not one bit.
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"It seems that something of the sort might be necessary, yes."
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The second word more an affectionate word than a title or a name. The same as that she simple reached out and brushes her fingers tips across the fur on top of his head, between his ears.
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She appears to be considering that last line's idea, at least a little.
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"Excuse me..." That's polite, not offended. "But have we met before?"
Sariel's fairly sure she doesn't know this person. Fairly sure, anyway.
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A plague on the Firstborn and their insatiable curiosity.
"Cards?" he asks, half guessing at the answer.
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He is not wholly serious - but her words make him pause. That and the way she looks at him. And so he starts over, with a more formal, "My lade, lord, no I do not know of these cards. But they sound - dangerous."
As all knowledge.
"I should like to try to listen to what they say."
Why shy from danger when it has been a constant companion for so long? And with knowledge as a prize? - How can he refuse that?
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