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#Post#: 386300--------------------------------------------------
Re: Village of Harniraia: Home of White Fox
By: Hayley Date: June 23, 2015, 3:26 pm
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[center]Her eyes lingered on his face, taking in as much of it
as she could. He looked disappointed and that almost made her
feel ashamed. Ashamed for giving in to that brief moment of
weakness. But she shook her head nonetheless, fingertips dancing
across his arm with feather light touches in an attempt to
assuage his discomfort. “Don’t apologize. You’ve nothing to
apologize for.” Chiara stopped at that, not finding the strength
to apologize for her actions – after all, they were the cause of
his current hesitance.
Once more Chiara shook her head, returning his smile with one of
her own, as out of place as it looked on her face. “Oh, I found
it quite enjoyable,” She mused almost ruefully, eyes straying
away from his to linger on his body to convey her true thoughts.
And it was, if she was being completely honest with herself. The
performance was one of unparalleled beauty and the strength he
displayed was great, the blood was only a bonus. Letting go of
herself just as she had moments ago felt wonderful, alas, she
knew it was a part that must be suppressed in order to fit in
and stay alive – White Fox had made it quite apparent that he
had no tolerance for a little baby slip-up, so she would do her
best to keep it at bay despite how tempting he appeared before
her.
“My peace is never peaceful, as the temptation is always there.
Bearing it has become easier, but it is, by no means, an easy
task.” The smile and cat-like playfulness left her being in a
soft breath, her eyes grew dull and unfocused, looking past his
face at the other people. Some were congratulating the winner,
others were enjoying time with their loved ones; utterly normal,
completely unaware of Chiara’s lapse into her darkness. “The
night belongs to the moon, Rujin,” She replied with her gaze
finally settling back onto his angular face, catching how his
gaze grew distant, just as hers did. There was no point in
bringing it up, so the question that lingered in her eyes
remained unspoken as she coiled her thin arm around his and took
a step forward towards the festivities; he was excited for it,
she wasn’t going to tear him away from what he wanted, but
still, the question remained in her head. “Would you follow me
even if my feet took me away from this village?” It was spoken
in such a soft voice she wondered if he even heard it, however
she already knew the answer; lonely as ever, it was her destiny
to walk the earth alone.
Silence enveloped them for several long minutes as they walked,
people walking past and paying no mind to the two. It made her
wonder if they fit in, as she so desired to. What did they look
like? Young lovers? Siblings? Friends? It was all too tempting
to know, but Chiara pushed the thought aside to ask another
question that recently came forth in her head, another young
child with swirling patterns painted on their face walked passed
them. This time Chiara stopped, looking over her shoulder at the
little boy with a small smile on her face. “That,” She stated,
nodding her head at the boy before looking up at Rujin, “why do
they have their faces painted like that? The pattern is quite..
delicious.” It was clear she connected the pattern to the one
that decorated Rujin’s body – though it looked far better on
him. “Could I get my face painted like that?” She asked in a
childlike manner, even going as far as to pout her bottom lip
out at him. “I should also like to ask if your leg is okay with
all this walking. It would be a shame for you to be in pain.”
[/center]
#Post#: 386311--------------------------------------------------
Re: Village of Harniraia: Home of White Fox
By: Demonreach Date: June 24, 2015, 12:13 am
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"If it were easy, it would not be a burden..." he murmured
softly, mostly for his own ears than for hers but held no care
should they reach her. But mostly, it was to get her lustful
gaze from his mind, his ears burned slightly, though he knew not
the emotion that caused it.
Not anger... Shame, perhaps; a feeling so remote and distant it
brought back memories of his earlier childhood. Sighing softly,
he brushed back his hair with his free hand and looked upon her
from the corner of his eye as they walked. It was a quiet night,
given the festivities; the air calm, moist, even the smell of
the lanterns and torches burning were carried away. The red mist
swirled about feet, dancing as said feet kicked it up and sent
it about; the smoky tendrils angrily seeking to fill the void it
had just left in the wake of passersby.
The man knew many a nights like this, prowling the tops of
buildings in the dead of night; feeling the jarring impact of
feet on tile. The question didn't need an answer, they both knew
that, however the White Fox offered, "Perhaps, many years ago,
though I doubt it. However, that needn't be the case: you may
wish to stay, as we all coexist together, and you would not be
shunned. I offer a place of acceptance."
He paused briefly, letting the words linger before continuing,
"And if your wandering feet grow weary, there is always room for
one more."
Perhaps he wanted her to stay, would try to persuade her for
certain, for he knew all too well the life on the move, to be
branded monster by the ignorance pervading the various lands.
And, if he was honest with himself, the White Fox enjoyed
having another at his side, but that thought was quickly crushed
as it would serve no purpose.
Chiara's question brought him from his musings and he offered a
thin smile. "The patterns offer protection against evil spirits,
or so they believe. Children often have different games they
play, but it amounts to same thing: protection against evil.
Tonight is the birth of this village, or its liberation from
said evil, and the one who saved it had those markings upon his
own flesh." He shrugged, chuckled humorlessly at the soft pout;
he pulled her across the street to one of the artists, who was
in the process of designing a pattern upon a child.
As they waited, he addressed her earlier concern, "Worry not
about my leg, though if you wish, I'll allow you to tend to it
once you tire of the night sky."
#Post#: 386315--------------------------------------------------
Re: Village of Harniraia: Home of White Fox
By: Hayley Date: June 24, 2015, 10:55 am
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[center]Chiara could do nothing more than nod her head,
accepting his words with a contemplative silence. She hadn’t
been expecting him to answer the question so willingly, nor was
she expecting his answer. Compassion, such as the kind he just
displayed, wasn’t something she would associate with his
character. Rujin was hard, sharp, cold – a warrior. Companions
were liabilities, Chiara would be a burden, she knew that much,
which begs the question; Did he mean it? Could she stay with
him? Would he accept her? It was a question she didn’t have the
answer to and would die on her lips as the night passed.
Or maybe it wouldn’t.
“And why would such a man save such a village from evil? To
willingly choose the lives of others over his own?” The
questions spilled effortlessly from her lips, her eyes turned to
his for the answer, for she knew he would have one. “Or was it
something different? A matter of pride? To chase away the Light
in order for the Darkness to prevail?” He had mentioned it
before; the White and Black Shadow-Marked and their everlasting
hatred for the other. It wasn’t difficult to conclude that it
was White Fox who saved the village, and it offered another side
to his complex personality. He chose to isolate himself, yet he
also chose to save all the villagers. Maybe Rujin, just like
Chiara, was lonely – a difficult thing to surmise given how
strong he acted. His offer returned to her thoughts, and somehow
Chiara was beginning to be persuaded.
They were left to wait for her turn, the artist currently
painting the face of a small boy. Chiara’s eyes watched, lips
parted and head tilted to the side. “Do you think the patterns
will protect me from the evil?” She asked, eyes never leaving
the face of the child as the artist continued to paint with
long, smooth strokes of the brush. “I’ve no experience to
tending wounds. Allowing me the chance to look at it will do you
no good. I worry not about the wound itself, but how you feel.”
Before she could look at him a warm hand was placed on her
shoulder.
The woman was old, but the light in her eyes and the energy she
carried herself with said she wasn’t close to death. Chiara
smiled at the old woman, who ushered the cold beauty to a
cushion next to the little boy’s. As Chiara settled herself down
on her knees the woman busied herself with grabbing a worn brush
and the paints. She could tell by the way the old woman kept
stealing glances at Rujin that she recognized him from earlier,
and for some odd reason jealousy spiked in Chiara’s stomach. She
could do nothing but push the thought from her head as the old
woman began painting on her face, pale eyes sliding shut as the
long strokes of the brush relaxed her tensed body.
[/center]
#Post#: 386338--------------------------------------------------
Re: Village of Harniraia: Home of White Fox
By: Demonreach Date: June 24, 2015, 10:20 pm
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He cocked a brow, offering a smile at her question of Light and
Darkness, "There will always be a struggle between the two; that
night, Dark prevailed, if barely. I was born to kill my brothers
of White; that's all it was. Another job, another fight. I wish
it did not sound so crude but it was nothing as complex as
pride. I did not choose the life of these villagers over my own.
I had been tracking down those two of the Light for quite some
time and it just so happened I caught them here."
But was that really all there was to it? Perhaps he was a deeper
man than he had thought; though he often handed out sage-like
advice or words, he had thought little of it other than life
experience; a life full of unbiased memories and moments of time
that allowed him to see through the regular bullshit that
pervaded others of lesser minds. He breathed out almost heavily,
as if in frustration. He had chose to stay, to offer law and
order. The Black Warrior even offered to teach those willing,
though it was simple forms of sword fighting, mostly for calming
the mind and reach a deeper sense of awareness.
"But, perhaps you are right. Am I not still here? I would like
to think there is more to me than what I see." A life of
servitude, of asking no questions other than who to kill and
where. Was he that cold? He peered at the woman's eyes, almost
hoping to catch himself within her hues.
The White Fox didn't answer right away, pondering the right
answer, but shrugged. "It's all about belief, or faith. I
suppose it must, but who is to know? If you say it does, then I
shall believe you." His brows furrowed as he frowned. "That's
not right. It's just paint, but the faith that it does gives it
the power. Some things, people are born with, some people
acquire their power. Here, you have a whole village that
believes in the power my Shadow-Mark. Here, you could call me a
living god. Here, I am powerful and nothing escapes my notice.
They all believe in me and that gives me strength that I could
not have otherwise gained with my family. That is why tonight is
so important to them and to me. Should they stop this ritual,
perhaps I would lose something, but I know not what. I'd still
have everything I was born with."
As she was seated, and the woman went to work, Rujin thought
about how he felt and found faint stirrings; but those were
normal, his mind empty of just about everything, as if his body
running on instinct alone, which it just might. Instead of
answering, as he was unsure of how to, he leaned against the
recently wounded leg and crossed his arms as he watched the old
woman work her magic upon Chiara's pale face. The blacks faded
to reds which faded to blacks. He enjoyed the effect it had upon
her skin. His fingers went up to his own face, feeling where his
own black markings stood out against his pale flesh; they
shimmered faintly with red, but did nothing more.
"Perhaps I merely enjoy the feel of your skin upon my own," he
finally said.
#Post#: 386341--------------------------------------------------
Re: Village of Harniraia: Home of White Fox
By: Hayley Date: June 24, 2015, 11:20 pm
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[center]He talked himself in a circle. Chiara couldn’t
help but to be amused. The corners of her lips twitched, but she
refrained from smiling, not wanting to make painting her face
difficult for the old woman. Maybe he ‘saved’ the
village from the White Shadow-Marked because of his programmed
desire to battle them, but he was right, he did stay; he
protected the villagers, gave them something to put their faith
in. Was that not care? Was that not compassion? He cared for
them more than he would ever admit – or even realize. Her
lips twitched once more, another smile but from a different
cause.
The woman worked quickly, laying a decent sized layer of paint
on Chiara’s face as she tried her best to mimic the
beautiful design that covered Rujin’s own face. During the
silence, Chiara became lost in her thoughts. Her faith
wasn’t in the paint; paint alone couldn’t protect
her from evil, but what it stood for certainly could.
White Fox or Rujin; who did the mark belong to? They were both
the same person, yet somehow managed to be two completely
different people – the man was a paradox. He was a mystery
that Chiara so desired to solve. White Fox was the warrior; the
body, the instincts, the muscle. Rujin was nothing more than a
man; the conscience that is always present. Who did the mark
serve? The warrior would be the one to protect her, but it was
the conscience she put her faith in.
The woman’s brush strokes moved to Chiara’s
forehead. She finally opened her eyes and tried her best to look
at Rujin, taken aback by his words – and by the smirk on
the old woman’s face, she clearly misinterpreted what he
was talking about. “To enjoy such a thing is
foolish,” Chiara muttered to herself, only causing the
woman’s smirk to grow and her beady eyes to twinkle with
delight.
It wasn’t long before the woman finished, setting back and
offering a mirror to the cold beauty she had just painted.
Chiara took the mirror in her hands, holding it up to both see
her face and catch Rujin’s reflection. “What do you
think?” She began, lowering the mirror to look over her
shoulder at him, “Does this look suit me?” A playful
jest, a teasing twinkle in her own eyes as she thanked the woman
– who waved off Chiara’s attempts to pay, albeit
with Rujin’s own coin, as a way to show her appreciation
for Rujin and his performance earlier that night.
After returning the mirror and thanking the woman once more,
Chiara finally returned to Rujin’s side, not waiting for
him to offer his arm before she linked hers with his and began
to lead them back onto the main path with no clear destination
in mind.
[/center]
#Post#: 386381--------------------------------------------------
Re: Village of Harniraia: Home of White Fox
By: Demonreach Date: June 29, 2015, 2:29 am
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The warrior sighed softly, watching the old woman work upon
Chiara's face; indeed, he found the effects of the paint to be
quite effective. There was something feral, primal, when he
looked upon the woman's pale face marred only by the paint. It
was, perhaps, the single most beautiful thing he had seen in
many years.
However, his reverie was brought to an end with her voice,
shaking him from his mental pondering. His head tilted to the
side as he looked at her, catching both women in his view;
watched the old painter smirked as if knowing; watching as
Chiara looked at herself with the mirror, as her eyes traced the
patterns the woman had created.
Perhaps such a thing was foolish, not to enjoy, but to consider;
a gentle reminder of where they stood. No, it was not so foolish
to consider or even enjoy, but perhaps it was foolish to
consider that he could enjoy such a thing as a woman's touch.
"It is quite the becoming look for you. You'll have everyone
staring in awe and wonder."
Indeed, it brought him back to his earlier musings about her
painted face, but left it alone and instead focused upon the
woman wrapped around his arm. His eyes looked to the sky,
watching the moon and the various stars twinkling above like so
many angels. Looking below, he saw the mist swirling around
their feet, never reaching above the knees; and even then, the
soft wisps curling away as if afraid.
The White Fox led his partner away from the main crowd, though
stayed on the main path; as they left the crowd, it grew quiet
though insects made some noise, quieted once they came close,
and started up just as vigorously once they passed. "There's a
little hole in the wall that's not so bad. You've probably
worked up quite an appetite, all this walking around."
In truth, he himself was quite hungry; that, and it was one of
the few places he enjoyed eating at. Well, the only place he
eats at besides his own place. "The man is a mute, but let's say
he is an old acquaintance of mine." However, there seemed so
much more unsaid in those few words. He sighed softly, as if
wishing words to come out of his mouth instead of just air.
Instead, however, he merely walked with Chiara, letting the
silence reign as he so often did.
#Post#: 386395--------------------------------------------------
Re: Village of Harniraia: Home of White Fox
By: Hayley Date: June 29, 2015, 7:12 pm
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[center]Just as he said, many people couldn’t take their eyes
off of her as they walked past. It was a kind of attention that
Chiara wasn’t used to despite always garnering looks. Their eyes
weren’t filled with hatred or disgust, but awe, pride, and, in
some, lust. What was so nice about it she didn’t know, but deep
inside she wanted Rujin to look at her the same way. His earlier
words came into mind, stirring something deep within her, a
small glimmer of hope; however she pushed it out of her head.
Rujin wasn’t a man to enjoy such pointless things. He was always
so cold and stoic; face emotionless, and eyes just as readable.
He was always frustrating, but it caused a new irritation to
Chiara. An irritation she did her best to ignore.
It was clear that he was leading them to some place, even when
he didn’t speak. He commanded and Chiara followed obediently –
not that she had much to disagree with as she didn’t know the
place as well as he.
His words roused a response from her stomach. It didn’t growl
obnoxiously, but she felt it twist and turn with fatigue. He was
right, she had worked up an appetite, however it wouldn’t take
much to satisfy her. Chiara could think of one thing that would
certainly be a treat, the bitter metallic flavor ghosting over
her tongue to tease her just at the thought. Rujin proposed a
plan, but his elaboration explained very little. The space
between her eyebrows wrinkled for a brief moment, and silence
fell over them as she waited for him to continue. But he didn’t.
Maybe he needed a push.
“What’s his name?” Chiara asked in a husky voice, eyes flitting
to his profile. An easy question with a near pointless answer as
they were bound to be introduced later, but for some reason she
was afraid of asking a more loaded question and couldn’t bring
herself to look away from him.
[/center]
#Post#: 386449--------------------------------------------------
Re: Village of Harniraia: Home of White Fox
By: Demonreach Date: July 8, 2015, 10:14 pm
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His name? His eyebrows shot up in shock, pupils growing wide
ever so slightly. "Why, Chiara, here I was thinking you were not
interested." He paused, gathering his thoughts about the man in
question. "Percival, but calling him an acquaintance is
stretching the limits of that word.
"He was a former mark, or target. One of my last, I believe,
before I left; He saved my life and while I was obligated to
spare his, as payment for having saved mine, I had to silence
him. Since I couldn't kill him, I explained the situation to
him. In the end, I suppressed his vocal cords." An almost
wistful smile accompanied the sigh as he talked. "He's forgiven
me, had understood, and would rather remain crippled than die.
It... upsets me, I suppose, that anyone would want to live a
life like that, of their own will. It's not that I don't
understand the need to live, to survive..."
He stopped, pausing before he continued to ramble on; not for
her sake, but for his. He could feel his body crave that rush;
could feel his heart start to beat faster; his breath speeding
up imperceptibly. Rujin allowed himself very little in the way
of emotion, strove to keep himself controlled; given his
Shadow-Mark ability, it was necessary.
"In any case, there are no hard feelings between us. He can read
lips, but refuses to learn any kind of sign language."
He lapsed back into silence, letting his body relax once more
into the coolness of the woman's body. After a handful of
minutes, the White Fox led them down a side road where the aroma
of food cooking was almost overwhelming. "So, instead of being a
target, he's now my charge. Just as this village is, I suppose."
There was a building that had no front wall, just small banners
hanging from the threshold offering a sort of doorway; smoke
wafted from the opening, the slight wind making the banners
wave; The warrior ducked beneath them, though spread them wide
for the woman and offered her a seat on one of the many stools.
They were the only two within save one other: a man.
He was medium height, hair salt-and-pepper; while clean-shaven,
there was some stubble sprouting. The eyes were a soft grey, and
there was an easy smile upon his face when he looked upon the
two entering. The lines around his eyes and mouth crinkled with
the smile, giving the impression he laughed easily. Just like
the soft color of his eyes, there was a kindness about his
person that made him easily approachable. His movements as he
stirred and flipped the cooking stew and meats were slow, easy;
a man going through the motions of his every day life with
experience. His head bowed slightly in greeting.
"Greetings, Percival. This is Chiara, my companion for the
evening. Chiara, meet Percival: the only man I have failed to
kill." He introduced the two as he sat down.
#Post#: 387536--------------------------------------------------
Re: Village of Harniraia: Home of White Fox
By: Hayley Date: September 4, 2015, 8:31 am
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[center]A soft chuckle was all that was allowed by way of a
response to his teasing, barely heard above his voice. She
didn’t want to stop him, and, much like a timid fawn, anything
could scare him back into his shell. So she kept quiet and
followed alongside him obediently, completely enraptured by his
voice. It wasn’t until he paused that she noticed just how
tensed he was; the arm in her grasp straining against her thin
hands, muscles flex, his whole body rigid with what she could
only assume was excitement.
Softly, she trailed her hand down his arm, feeling the taut
muscles, painting a picture in her mind of that which she
couldn’t see – or perhaps she was indulging herself by touching
him. Rujin’s skin was smooth with a soft prickle of hair that
men should have; eventually her fingers ran into a raised
scratch, two, three – a cut that has since scabbed over since
the dance. Nimble fingers lingered on the cut longer than they
should, thumb tracing its jagged route several times before
moving on down his coiled arm. She stopped at the back of his
knuckles; strong fingers curled into his palm, hand clenched in
a fist, making travel to it impossible. By then Rujin’s words
had come to a slow, and the inevitable was coming. Her hand
trailed up his arm quickly, needing no time to explore because
she’d already felt everything, and rested once more on his
bicep, which was no longer bulging with his strength.
The strong smell of food made her stomach clench; from what she
didn’t know. It was a feeling akin to such a strong hunger that
food no longer seemed appetizing. Rujin stopped them in front of
a small building, banners waving lazily. She stepped in behind
him, placing herself on the stool he offered her where her eyes
immediately settled on the man behind the counter. Chiara wasn’t
expecting the man to be so calm and easy going, especially after
all that’s happened to him.
She nodded her head in greeting as Rujin initiated introductions
and took a seat on the stool closest to hers. The building was
warm, and if she wasn’t so cold she was sure she would be
sweating. Long fingers gathered the hair that had fallen in her
face and tucked it behind her ear, eyes quickly glancing around
before settling back on Percival. “That is quite the
introduction,” She mused, an easy smile on her face. “I promise
I’m more interesting than he makes me sound. I take it his
companions aren’t usually this pretty?” The look on Percival’s
face told her that what White Fox was doing wasn’t something he
did often. Nevertheless, a sculpted brow rose at her teasing
question, eyes flitting over to Rujin’s’ face to see his
reaction.
[/center]
#Post#: 387846--------------------------------------------------
Re: Village of Harniraia: Home of White Fox
By: Demonreach Date: September 5, 2015, 8:15 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Rujin chuckled at the looks the two exchanged, shrugging, 'I
usually don't have companions, let alone one as beautiful as
you, that is for sure. As well, they don't meet Percival because
of who he is.'
Sighing softly, the White Fox eased himself in the company of
the two; Percival, because they were long-standing
'acquaintances'; Chiara, because, after all, she had seen more
of his life in the last couple of hours than most would in as
many years.
The thought brought a wry smile upon his face, the markings upon
his face twisting into more odd lines as a result.
His ears twitched with the outside sounds, following the
laughter; the merriment that went on without them. 'While the
thought probably hasn't reached you yet, this place, despite how
wonderful it smells, is empty save us. Everyone avoids this
place; to them, it doesn't exist within their reality. It only
opens this time of the year, in any case. This is perhaps the
one time, the one place, I can truly allow myself some
relaxation.
'And within the company of such wonderful people, that adds to
the experience, I must say. You may feel free to talk about
whatever you wish, as I feel I have exhausted all sources of my
own conversation; and Percival is poor at conversation, as you
see.'
He winked at the man cooking, who provided the two of them
chilled water with hot tea as well.
'Whatever you have need of, Chiara, you may ask for. He provides
well, and if the smell wasn't enough, he is amazingly talented.'
With that, he lapsed into silence, watching her from the corner
of his eye as he sipped at the tea.
The festivities seemed far off, distant, from how they sounded;
soon, the sounds of insects and nocturnal creatures dominated
their own ears. Rujin didn't ask for anything in the way of
food, merely content drinking the proffered tea.
'Perhaps you can tell us of your journey here, how you came so
lost as to find this hole in the world.'
*****************************************************
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