Good Relations

[Leaf]

Closed to Leaf and Philomel. A tale of faun-epic proportions.

He began at the place where all good beginnings begin.

That was, the city gate.

East was the direction he came from and therefore it was the East Gate that Leaf van der Terra first came across. With his hands tightly gripping the straps of his pack he walked down the long dusty road, wide enough for two wide wagons to comfortably pass in opposite directions, his eyes scanning the walls of the city his father spoke of. At his heels three terrier-sized creatures scuttled, looking more like obidient pets than the familiars and family members he claimed them to be. Cookie, naturally, led the way, his ginger snout pointing in the air even before Leaf; the two other pigs followed noisily behind. Popsy had her nostrils firmly pointed to the ground, snuffling this strange new world for all its exciting scents.

As they got to the Gate, that arose in the volumous wall like a gigantic beast's maw, Leaf slowed his pace, watching the arrows of the guards above being drawn and pointed at his company. Cookie, with the keenest eyesight, even more keen than Leaf, squeaked in warning. The other pigs ducked in fast instinct behind their father-faun's legs.

Leaf raised a very slight eyebrow but said nothing. There was a pause, short, then a voice yelled, "State your business to Radasanth, stranger from the East."

The faun farmer blinked, then glanced down to the ginger child boar in front of him.

"I am here for trade purposes," he answered in a loud voice. "I am a ... Trader."

"Your kind is not well known here," the guard snapped back in a rough growl, "From what we know you could be an instigator of the war that is currently-"

There was a defeaning shriek. High-pitched and piercing it rattled the audio bones of all those in hearing and sent a wolf in a hill just north howling in terror. Leaf found himself blinking, confounded, took a moment, then shrugged as the sense of Cookie's impatience was communicated directly into his mind. It was a clear defined feeling, one Leaf was very much used to. Like the connecting of two links of a mighty ship's chain their minds were tied to one anothers' - and not only them but Popsy and Thor, the other pigs, also.

He looked up at the guard and nodded.

"Indeed. Exactly as my good companion here says - we would like to enter. We bring trade, tax and money to Radasanth. Nothing more."

From where he was and what his eyesight gave him, Leaf could only see a hazy blur of a face peering over the wall. But as he waited the ginger pig's mind connected with his own, and sent a slightly clearer view of a human captain guard looking bemused.

Apparently he had never seen such a self-proclaiming boar before. The trader faun stiffled a quick laugh before speaking in a kinder tone.

"I am a faun from the mountains, looking to make residence here in your city. I swear I bring no war with me. Only my goods to trade."

Then captain narrowed his eyes slightly.

"What kind of goods?"

"Only the best money can buy," Leaf said, a grin coming to his face.

Dramatic pause.

"Fungus."

[Philomel]

Promises are promises.

But sometimes promises must be broken. And Philomel, the Nightingale, the faun of love and blood was currently breaking a promise she had made herself a long long time ago.

Such a deep promise that it had taken all her learned wit and skill to keep from breaking said promise, all her striving to not to commit one tiny little ounce of a symptom that might possibly, in the smallest sense, cause her to break it. The Nightingale was not in the habit of breaking her promises, most certainly if they involved her, or another's death, or preferably both.

But yet she had. And she had done it well.

Philomel, the assassin-whore, mistress of every man she made to believe was in love, goddess of fucking and killing, death to those that angered her, bounetous Miss Bosom of Radasanth Brothels of All Time ...

She.

Was.

bored.

Staring at the ceiling, she had little to do but whistle to herself. Albeit, she could talk to her fox-form companion Veridian who sat on her ample bosom, his paws tucked under his body. His eyes were closed, but he was not asleep. Instead he was dreaming in some way of a life that was beyond this, that was elsewhere.

Philomel focused her attention on the dull and unpatterned surface above her. In this small pantry there was little room to move apart from stretch a leg or four. And a tail. As the brown-beige colour began to take over, her whistling fell to a still note, a lingering melody but without the "-lody," just the "me." Silence came. The earth-spirit peeped open one eye and stared at her subtle lip, her nose, her left horn, then closed it again. Time passed.

Still.

Fucking.

Bored.

Then ... Blackness.

Like being unconcious and being caught in a nightmare. Like having your highest climatic orgasm clinched at the last moment and failing to gain utter perfection. Like being bitterly disappointed by the one soul who you knew you could entirely depend on. Blackness. Despair. Horror. Plunged into the depths of tears and nothingness.

A void, that was what it felt like. Philomel closed her eyes.

And breathed.

And when she opened her eyes she found she could talk to Veridian.

Right. Into. His. Mind.

Greetings, he seemed to be saying, though his eyes were still tight closed. I like you.

[Leaf]

He strode through the streets, bemusement on his face. All of this ... was so strange. So many sights and sounds and colours and smells. Nothing he had ever sensed before. Beautiful things - carved wood, painted signs, patterned dresses; all caught his attention. Bright grey eyes took in the way the tender sun carressed the buildings and each person in their many sizes. Humans, elves, orcs, even a troll. Every kind was here. The largest amount were human, but that did not daunt the Paradisian part of Leaf to turn away. Fauns now, after all, despite the rumours, got on with humans. And the city - it was not so frightening. Even though the air seemed tight and the streets claustrophic there was little to be worried over.

So therefore, with a happy and determined heart he went on, the pigs around his feet dancing.

As he got to a corner of a street, his eyes widened at the great site of the tall towers of the Citadel looming in the distance over the housing roofs. His heart skipped a beat, his hands tightened on the straps of his pack. Suddenly he let out a great breath and-

"Oi, watch there horny boy!" growled a loud noise.

Leaf jumped somewhat, sending his pigs squealing. He sensed their amount of panic, and Cookie's sudden determination to kill whoever was shouting at the companions and threatening them so.

A large hairy orc stood in there way, a tankard in each hand. Whisps of hair were stuck to his head like party decorations, and one eye was pink whilst the other blue. He seemed oddly distraught, like his dignity had just been stolen, or his daughter had run away with a handsome renegade, and was staring at them with ultimate ire. It seemed they had stumbled into his path as he came from a narrow alleyway. So narrow that Leaf was actually surprised the orc could fit down it, but that was neither here nor there.

"I - We are sorry," Leaf said, containing his frustration for now. He glared back at the orc, keeping eye contact as he gave a sort of respectful half-bow. "Please excuse us."

As he turned away Thor, the fighter of the pigs gave a sharp snort, as if to say "Yeah, go and suck on that!" The orc seemed to understand, however, at least the connotations of what the tawny brown boar was saying, and his temper was immediately riled.

"You satyrs of the East!" he roared, "You have no respect..."

The truffle-trader new the best time to get out of the situation had come. He bent down, releasing his hold on the straps of his pack. With a sweep of his arms he gathered Thor up and ignored the shrieking struggles. Signalling quickly to the other two he let out a bleat of his own - then twisted to bolt. Hooves upon the cobbles the four of them twisted away and scurried on hoof and trotter, leaving the rest of Radasanth to wonder in their wake.

[Philomel]

She stared at him. Straight into those icterine, sunlit, royal eyes.

"Sorry, what?"

The same senses came again. Suddenly, so swiftly, like a static charge of energy, sweeping through her systems.

Senses of; first, an image of her, proud, horned, sexy; second a welcoming, a hello; and lastly a loving tune of like, a simple feeling of realising that you actually cared for someone better than you cared for yourself.

The faun-whore blinked, in her truly taken-aback state, and sat up quickly. Veridian, still atop her breast, nickered slightly as she moved. He was caused to tumble down, lose his footing - to land right into her lap.

Then, directly, another feeling. An expression of annoyance, and of being uncomfortable.

Her jaw clenched slightly.

"Hey," she yelled back at him, "Its not as if I was expecting this. I mean seriously, is this some form of trick?!"

The earth-spirit's eyes glowed luminescently. His black lips drew back to reveal his small sharp teeth, the physical reality of his killer being. A small bass growl began to emit from the throat ...

"Alright!" Philomel haughtingly said in confusion, "Alright, this is not a trick. I accept it is true."

The growl stopped short, lips relaxed. Golden eyes blinked once, long and thoughtful, then gazed at her, longingly.

Like you ... he desperately sent again, trying to communicate. Like ... you. A sense of being liked, or even liking, followed by her face. Her face, framed in perfection, stuck in that moment of utter beauty.

The assassin-whore bit her lip, then breathed in a long breath.

"Right... well I guess this isn't a dream."

As if to make a point Veridian flicked out his paw, claws extended. Sharply he slid it across her thy.

"Drys above!" she growled, batting at his head. The small fox nickered, almost cheekily, and flashed out of the way.

Not a dream, he communicated, prancing on the end of her bed, Not a dream! I like you!

[Leaf]

Despite the chaos they had created, they only had to move three corners before they were in safety. Tucked over Leaf's shoulder Thor struggled - however, he faced backwards from the rest of the group. With this, he could keep an eye out for any followers, and even though he protested greatly over his treatment he acknowledged that the orc was not following them, and that any danger passed when they ducked out of the area of the stalls and market.

They ended in a quieter area. It was a residential alleyway behind the main street, where only washing lines held anything of interest. Thor began to toss his head in fury, squealing in distaste.

"Oh, sorry," Leaf hurriedly said, placing the boar down.

The brute of a cute miniature pig growled as much as a pig can do, sharply at him, then plonked his behind onto the dirty cobbles. Popsy watched with gorgeous wide eyes, lightly amused, as Cookie decided to scout out their current hideout. The father-faun himself looked around at his three companions before leaning back against the nearest wall. Sliding down it he joined Thor in the dust, and let out a quiet sigh.

For a while, silence between them all. Then -

Flashing images. Clear street, view of the house across from it, a peek of an old woman knitting through a window, sun in the blue sky, an elf's face with a red eye.

All three of the others looked around at the view of Cookie who came scampering back from the exit they had not gone to. His ginger ears flapped up and down as he ran on his trotters, causing amusement to come over his brother. Thor fell over onto his back, his legs kicking into the air as he snorted in a happy boar way. Too proud and mature, naturally, to have any affect from this, Cookie just stopped running, and ended his parade by walking back to Leaf and presenting his findings with a satisfied oink.

Leaf looked briefly from brother to brother, a vague smile on his face. But Cookie's seriousness sobered him quickly, and he nodded.

"Yes, thank you," he said, "Well done. I suggest we head that way and perhaps to the centre of the town. There we can find a place to stay."

Popsy sent a clear mental image of a market, not unlike the one they had just passed. Her nostrils flared, and the scent of truffles came rushing over the four connected minds.

"Exactly. And we will most likely be able to find a place to sell this stuff," Leaf nodded. "Now..."

He did not make a move to leave, however. Instead he placed back his head and closed his eyes.

Just a short nap though, first, he said, Just a short nap...




OOC: pictures!!! Popsy, (http://images.counselheal.com/data/images/full/3968/pig-piglet-animal.jpg?w=600)Cookie, (http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4007/4568785780_c6078b0492_o.jpg)Thor (http://cache.desktopnexus.com/thumbnails/1688753-bigthumbnail.jpg)

[Philomel]

"Okay this is getting weird," she muttered as she strode through the square.

She was recieving less looks than normal. Largely this was down to the fact she was wearing more than normal. Over her torso she wore an entire corset and blouse, completely covering the tattoo of the ash tree upon her belly. Her loin covering was more like a loose knee-length skirt, with large slits in the sides up to her waist. Not entirely looking inconspicuous, but much more than normal. Her usual plait trailed down her back, and she hugged her body loosely as she walked.

Her reasoning for wearing more clothes was down to the fact she did not want as many lustful looks. After all, she had come out for air, and for escapism. The act of lying down with the recent discovery, and having the being on top of her whom she was speaking to had been all too claustrophic in that tiny space. Therefore, instead she had gotten to her hooves and dressed quickly, leaving the room and the building to get simple space.

Veridian had followed, however. He paced on his paws, not saying or communicating in anyway, yet his presence was there. She saw him pacing at her side, out of the corner of her eye, and also as a vague, curious entity at the edge of her conciousness. Though not making any direct connecting, due to her recent reactions, he reminded her that there was no getting away from this now. Not in the slightest.

They crossed the square, fleet-footed and swift, hurrying past the tempted avid eyes. There were still a few, of those drunkards who recognised her.

Pausing only at a small stall to obtain an apple pastry, Philomel kept on, her heart still pounding.

It is just too... strange, she related, thinking the thoughts as clearly as she could. She even pictured them, as if written on a page. I will not get used to this.

A strong sense of affirmation came to her from the other side of the void that existed between their minds.

Yes, you will it seemed to say. Oh yes you will.

[Leaf]

He awoke with a start. Such a pounding in his head and an onslaught of confusing images and padantic emotions.

FEAR! A flash of a knife blade. PANIC! A squeal of hate as - dodge. Good smell, good taste in mouth, sugary pie. Confusion - what is going on? A streak of pink, then black hair. - Change of perspective - Teeth clamp over the ankle of the man with knife. Nom, eat, never let go. Taste of blood. MOVEMENT. What to do, what to do?!

Leaf leapt to his feet, his hand going instantly to the only weapon he had. The sickle at his side was short and simple and used primarily as a tool, but it was a blade. A beautiful strong blade of silver Damascus, that would slice and prove, he hoped to dearest heaven, to be the match to any throat-cutting baker's knife.

His clattering hooves took him over the cobbles, straight down the street. He rounded, as his alert senses told him, at the corner and headed for what lay before them - a huge central square, the equivolent of a upper town meeting place. Various small stores stood around the edge with open fronts; pubs, tailor shops, elite cafes. In the centre was a statue of a prancing boar, spewing water from its mouth, tail erect - and copying this stance to near perfection was Cookie beneath it on a table, squealing for all he was worth.

The faun's attention, however, was drawn towards the nearby bakery. Several layers of commotion were occurring, each involving a form of violence.

Humans and elves, perhaps fifteen in all, were gathered around the front entrance, waving hands hectically in the air. Some of them were attempting to pile in through the front door in some undignified order, others were merely onlookers. Loud sounds of screaming oinks came from within, as well as bellows of fury and pain. A few people were looking from Cookie's dramatic monologue towards the shop to which his snout gestured, but they seemed none the wiser. It took Leaf to charge directly for the front door of the shop, his horns lowered threateningly.

"Get out of the way!" he roared, thrashing with his sickle, "Get out of the WAY!"

He waved it around, to and fro, as if he was cutting down wheat. The gesture was crude, but obvious enough, and if it didn't send out a wave of warning, his lowered horns did. The lucky ones saw him - and recognised the fury. If the flashing blade did not tell them, the red red look in his eyes did. They moved, or were forced out of the way.

Gaining entrance into the building, Leaf immediately assessed the situation. Through the amounts of panic and ramblings and flashing thoughts in his head he knew that Popsy was the immediate one in trouble. As he saw a grey blade descend in front of a pair of small eyes, he saw the baker's arm move. At the same time the man was limping, yelping in pain. There was a taste of copper in Leaf's mouth and it was evident it came from the feeling within Thor who was still latched around the baker's ankle.

His tiny trotters scraped grooves in the wooden floorboards as he was pulled towards his sister. Evidently his efforts were not satisfactory enough to stop this maniac from trying to stab the piglet who only wanted to taste a sugary pie. Therefore - upon sight of Leaf he released the ankle he had been biting. Deep wounds were there and blood soaked the floor, still was soaking the floor. Thor let out an almighty shriek, joined with one pleaful emotion that spoke, "HELP ME!" then lunged once more for the leg again.

A howl of pain, a grating of teeth. Popsy tried to dodge around the man, but the rusty blade was in her way. Despite the obvious agony this baker was in he still seemed intent on stabbing her to death.

Leaf yelled, suddenly, wisely. He went from the simple stance of movementless to rapid, kicking off from the nearest wall to thrust his body forwards. He bent down, at the waist, and removed advantage of eyesight to plunge his curled horns into the baker's side. The force of them, plus that of the fresh loss of blood with the fresh bite was enough to make his knife loose its course, and to send him off course. He let out a yelp, staggered, and was bashed into a table. The knife fell from his hand and Popsy took that opportunity to scarper through the front door, making her escape with the pie still in mouth. Clopping trotters leapt through the legs of the busy onlookers, and they barely noticed.

After a moment of catching back his breath, the faun stood, shaking. His eyes slowly focused on the beast before him, sprawled there on the table and knocked out cold. The head had hit a pan or some surface evidently and was welling up with an impressive bruise. Abandoned on the ground the iron knife was useless and decripit now, but still seemed the focus of Thor who had stopped his biting and was nosing it with intense malice.

Raggedly, Leaf shook his head and snapped from his strange adrenaline-fueled stupor. The actions had been fast, instinctual; entirely based on feelings. The images in his head had chosen his actions, and had told him immediately of the dangers. Somehow he had known what to do - or known what had to be done - and he had done it. As if his body was controlled by some otherwordly being or higher source of power ... it had occurred.

Slowly he blinked, then let the emotions set in. Peace, calm, solved. Mission accomplished, perhaps.

Thor restlessly prodded at the blade.

It was amusing to watch, but not the right moment.

Leaning down, Leaf trailed his fingers along the boar's back and grabbed his attention. "Come on, son," he said in a weary tone, still not quite knowing what had occurred, "Come."

Thor squealed. Leaf sighed.

"Thor ..."

"You there!" came a sudden, demanding tone.

Leaf turned, as fast as his hooves allowed. His eyes had to adjust for a moment before they pierced at the light coming from the doorway. Blinking, he tilted his head, and focused.

Then he stopped. Stared.

Much of the onlooking crowd had been forced aside. Like the way they had moved for his charging horns they had likewise moved for a very dangerous individual standing there, with a dangerous looking set of weapons. Her arms hung by her side like two sentinals; one bore a broad blade of silver steel, the other a waving dagger. Around the circumference of three foot diameter around these things there were no people.

But it was not this that exactly caught Leaf's surprised attention. His eyes were drawn to the chestnut fur peeking out from under the split skirt - then up to her generous waist - then to her shoulders, broad and strong - and up that feline nose, those grey grey eyes, that matted violet-streaked hair to the gracious curling horns that framed her fair face ...

She was the near exact copy of his elder sister. His jaw dropped, and his eyes widened, fixated.

Leaf whispered, in wonder.

"Lily ...?"

[Philomel]

A nosey burnette man with a dirty face tried to lean sideways to peer into the store. With a firm stare of extreme intense fury Philomel caused his lean to be nothing more than a grovel. He ended up backing away, far away. Right to the very back of the crowd.

Definitely she was in power here. Some of the individuals in this place knew her reputation, others simply had heard rumours. True, it was rather bizarre to see her in split skirt and blouse instead of the usual breast-cupper and short loin-covering; but they were warned well. Most especially by the drawn presence of her two steel bleeders, angled towards their ankles on either side of her.

"My name is not Lily," she said in a commanding tone, glaring right at the faun here.

It took a great deal of willpower not to sweep forwards and address this man with absolute amazement; questioning how he got here, why he was here, how life was doing in Paradisia, how pleased she was to meet another faun. After all, the only faun she had seen for months had been the weeping girl Bibag - the one who had likewise witnessed the murder of the headless freak. The murder that had lead to her freedom from Mort.

That sodden bastard pimp.

An image of him, all exploded and burnt, came to the edge of her mind.

Argh! Get out! she growled at the presence there, still the novel sensation. Stop that, you are ruining my performance.

The fox-spirit let out a high nicker and danced around her hooves as she fought to keep her demanour. Her teeth ground together, the grip on her sword began to falter, and she felt her countenance begin to slip.

Uncomfortably the male faun stared, his lips fairly round in an "oh" formation.

"Ah, sorry," he said hurriedly, "I mistook you for my sister. Please - please allow me to apologise and uh ..."

His eyes pointedly looked to the crowd gathered around the door and stall opening. For now at least they kept back, well away from the assassin with the knives - but it would not last long. Curiousity, after all, is a powerful force in the minds of people. Men. Men - especially stinking humans.

Veridian pranced a little longer, his tail brushing against her ankle. His mind also brushed against hers, sending a wealth of emotions. Giggling, amusement, faith, trust, wonder, confusion, interest, want.

"YOU shut up!" Philomel suddenly yelled, out loud. The entire group of swarming people jumped. Most of them backwards into each other and further into the market square. But she was not glaring daggers at them. She was glaring between her hooves, at the fox.

The small beast just laughed at her. She found herself muttering dark things under her breath. Such dark things that she was not surprised that the earth did not create a black hole to hell, and swallow her up. After all, that was likely where she would go when she died. Despite her devotion to beauteous Drys.

"Yes, right, sorry," the male faun stuttered.

Her eyes flashed, deep black pits, up to his. What surprised her, however, was that he did not look at all apologetic. Instead he had his hands clutched around a strange young boar and he eagerly awaited her judgement with curiousity.

"However I think it would be better if we uh ... got out of here?"

Eyes moved and motioned deliberately to the crowd around them. Philomel felt a tug on her heart. It was a hard feeling to cope with, especially with all her anger and pride that resided there. Her heart was not red, after all, and most definitely not full of love. It was the darkest sable anyone could see, and filled with horror and ill-fate.

Without offering an answer she turned sharply on her hooves. She barely had noticed the baker man, the same one she had bought the apple pastry from, unconcious on the table. He was not important. After all, he would easily survive.

Striding forwards she carved a way through the people - or rather they created the way for her. It was easy enough, all she had to do was shake the keris dagger.

[Leaf]

"Look, I am not here to cause any trouble," Leaf said quickly. "I just want to see if I can-"

Unceremoniously the nape of his neck was grabbed. He squeaked a little, not unlike a pig. The faun female that reminded him so much of his older sister was a fair bit taller, and she used it to her advantage. When they got far enough away from the square she forced her clear dominance on the sitatution and squeezed him, just in that bit below his skull where it hurt. Painfully.

Thor immediately took on the offensive. Letting out a death-defying shriek of rage he rushed forwards to the faun, jaws spread wide so his canines flashed. In between her hooves and him the bright russet fox appeared, chattering away like a squirrel. Once more Leaf saw the flash of uncomfort appear on her face as he angled up to try to negociate with her. He tried to gently plead.

"Seriously, we mean no harm, we just-"

"Tell your pig to back off otherwise I will let the guards have you," the woman growled, raising her hoof for a firm kick to Thor's side.

Knowing that this crazy faun-ess would really kick Thor, Leaf squealed high and flapped an arm, "Thor! Stop! Cookie?"

Cookie oinked to attention. He skipped around, fleet on trotter and brought himself to Thor's side. Nipping his brother's ear he tugged him away like the born leader he was, desperate for this not to end in some sort of brawl.

The woman, however, still held onto his neck. She did not seem amused, and her bright long sword was still in her hand. Leaf attempted an apologetic smile, but it got him nowhere. Instead she pinched harder, driving her nails deeper into the flesh and forced him down the road, crippled in pain.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!" he moaned, "Please, I only just got here."

"You really like talking in italics, don't you?" the killer faun woman growled.

But Leaf did not reply as they turned around a corner. Instead he found himself gaping, despite the agony, at the sight of a colossal building that was so clearly a church even Thor understood that at first sight. Popsy was overwhelmed, pretty quickly, and started to faint - but Cookie supported her with a nudge of his snout. They did not get long to look as Leaf was quickly taken to the right and across the grounds. The fox with the sharp teeth settled into step between Thor and his companion, his nose pointing the way.

It was as if this was all some great secret. The faun woman dragged Leaf's sorry behind around by the back of a fence, saying nothing, just forcing him with her. They ended up down a dirty path lined by trees and then down another with a wall that stank of beer. After, finally, they moved to the hidden front foor of a large hall that abutted the church itself. With a firm kick of her hoof she slammed the door open and led him into a barn-like room of herbology, that happened to be empty. He began to open his mouth again to speak, but not before she shoved him through another door into a smaller room, recently converted into a Drys chapel, and let go.

Leaf tumbled to the floor, onto his knees, then onto his side.

"Do you really have to be so ouchie?" he asked.

[Philomel]

"'Ouchie' is not a word," she snapped, folding her toughened, muscular arms across her perfectly emboldened breasts. "It is something you just made up."

The male faun rolled his eyes somewhat as he slowly sat up. He used his large hands to support his brawn weight, and his entire bare chest rippled with discontent and painful movement. Uneasy, Philomel shifted her weight onto her left hoof, but remained standing where she was. Whatever this faun was going here, she was determined to remain in power, despite these ... vibes she was getting off him. Horribly there was something about him - a strange familiarity that Philomel could not put her hand upon. Whether it was simply the fact that she was facing another of her kind, one that had not been Radasanth for a very long time, or it was something more, she could not be sure. What she had to be certain, of, however, was that this agonising void, this act of unknowing was not going to cripple her. For now she had to keep up the appearance of the one in power, out-numbered or not. For all the magics Veridian had in his Earth Spirit form the assassin-whore could not be sure that he would survive an attack from all three of the vicious pigs. Especially the fat speckled boar.

"Well please excuse my poor use of tradespeak," the male faun sighed, raising a hand to the back of his neck and rubbing it. "I didn't know making up words was looked down upon in Radasanth."

The bravarity and questionable humour of the sentence made her stutter. Again, the tang of unfamiliarity twinged at her mind, and it took her a few under-breath cursings to gain control again.

"Well, yes, then maybe you should have done your research before you barged into it like this. I mean, what did you think you were doing? Attack the Apple Baker?! He barely tolerates non-humans!"

"That is partly his fault," he replied, in a surprisingly calm voice, "And I did not attack him. It was Popsy who stole the tart."

By now the three little pigs had righted themselves. The one who was the prepetrator in this case, apparantly called 'Popsy' had crumbs and apple sauce still stuck around her jaw. It only added to the intense power of cuteness that surrounded her. In essence, she was the most adorable thing Philomel had seen all year, and that was closely followed by the fat brute one and the ginger. They sat in a polite little line beside their owner - although, the glutton was clearly still agitated. The ginger, he that took up the centre of this troupe, tilted his head slightly and observed Philomel in a manner most curious. His eyes seemed to glisten with a depth, with a beauty in them. It was not easy to see at first, but afterwards, once you spent a long moment staring into those pale black eyes you could begin to fathom something that was -

No. It could not be. Veridian was intelligent because he was an Earth Spirit, with a capital E - S. These things ... why they were animals! Beasts of the mire. Stinking pigs that liked to roll around in the muck and snort at each other's farts.

"Yeah ... he doesn't really like it when you look at him like that."

"How can a piglet be bothered at how I look at him?!"

An expression of faint blush rose to the male faun's cheeks. The hand that was on the nape of his neck rose to tangle into the back of his cropped chestnut hair. "Well um - I think we are quite similar-"

Philomel opened her mouth. Words burst out. "We are nothing the sa-"

Suddenly his other hand stuck itself in the air, interrupting her speech. Just with the same abruptness as she had his. Almost feeling - that thing, what was it ... what the hell? Seriously?! Shame?! - she shut up as he continued.

"My companions here are like your fox, intelligent, and also like your fox we have a mental link. This is Popsy, Cookie, Thor. Cookie is-"

She found her will again. "What do you mean 'just like your fox'? Veridian and I we ..."

As she tailed off, the male faun paused, then his blushing face transforming into a quiet smile.

"I know the signs. Its hard right, the first few times?"

Philomel let out a rough dark sigh, huffing through her nostrils.

"Yeah its the first day, but I don't need a pigman brigand telling me what it should be like."

"As I said, that was Popsy. And she was hungry. We haven't eaten anything but rations for ..." he quickly counted on his long, strong fingers. "Six hours and have nowhere to stay, not much money. I only came to this city because there was nowhere else."

"Nowhere else apart from Paradisia?!" She found herself snorting. Loudly.

But the male faun was not amused. He looked down at his pigs, a whisper of sorrow in his eye.

"Its not my life anymore."

[Leaf]

Popsy looked kindly back up to him, her fond eyes meeting his sadness. Paradisia had, after all, for many years been there home. The small town of Hope had given them just that, hope, and provided a world where life occurred, but never too much. The farm had been enough to sustain their family and their happiness, yet eventually Leaf had grown unsuited to it all. With the joint deaths of his mother and Dendra reason and purpose had just filtered away, leaving only a husk. Leaving only him and his three strong and intellelectual pigs.

"There are sometimes reasons for us to leave," he said quietly, glancing back up to the breasty faun lady. "I am sure you understand. After all there are so few of us here, or in other countries. Paradisia was built for us to live in hiding after the death of Pan, but, well, its not perfect. When did you leave by the way?"

Feeling a lot more comfortable ever since she had stopped her accusations, and had quietened in the expression of her anger, he shifted into a kneeling position and leaned forwards, eager to spark her into conversation. On his face was a genuine smile, and his own heartbeat was moderate. It had been moderate, and slow, all the way through. After all, Leaf van der Terra was never one to suffer from a bad temper.

He was surprised to see her eyes widen and her lose her carefully constructed countenance.

"I - Well I never have been there." Her arms loosened from their tight formation over her chest, and one drooped to the floor. "My mother maybe, but then she had me here and I have never known anywhere else."

Never been there ...

His lips made a little "oh".

"Really?" he asked, surprised, "How unusual. I thought we only really met others of out kind there, not here. Not lovers anyway."

"My bastard father was a merchant. He was a scumbug, a liar and a cheat. He married my mother on a whim and then abandoned us like we were garbage."

Her words were harsh. They were sharp. They cut through the brittle air like slashes of an undullable blade.

Finding himself lost for words temporarily, Leaf stuttered. This woman seemed to have an ability to strike hard and fast. And Leaf found it so terribly difficult to respond. It did not help that she looked remarkably like Lily, nor that she was one of his own rare kind.

"Well I am sure he had his um ... reasons. Maybe he was just ..." Leaf looked uncertain. After all, he had likely not known the man. Merchants usually came from Pan's Town and he was from the closeted farming community outside Hope. There was a very small chance that they had met, maybe in passing, but then he could have just been silly. Or awkward. Or made mistakes.

"Just what?"

Her tone was brutal. One could tell the difference between their temperences just by listening to one word. Whereas she was full of hate and ire, Leaf was full of calm and peace. Whereas she had grown up in this awful city of orcs and bad tempers and people who wanted to kill you, he had been raised in the peaceful idyllic faun paradise, where birds sang to bring the bright dawn.

"Just misunderstood," he said quietly. "People often are."

Eyes sparkled. Her eyes sparkled. Her lips parted as her nostrils, oddly, flared. Then suddenly she was the one stuttering.

"I - I - Gah!"

Cookie giggled, Thor burst into snorts of humour. As the faun lady tried to find a hoof to stand on, Leaf let the smile spread gently across his face and he held out a hand towards her.

"Here," he said, "Lets be friends. After all, we should stick together, as fauns."

He stretched his legs out before him, then got to his hooves. The woman did not react in anyway, but her small fox did. Baring his sharp teeth he did not move but leaned back into a pounce position. Leaf paused, looking at the Earth Spirit. The creature just growled more.

The truffle farmer decided to risk it and swept his hand forwards. Nothing else, mind you, just his simple hand and wrist and arm in an extension of greeting.

"Hello," he said, in the brightest introductory voice he could muster, "I am Leaf van der Terra. What may I call you?"

[Philomel]

"Stick together as fauns." Oh pur-lease, what a pathetic attempt at friendship.

Never had she been in a situation this randomly irritating, with pigs and a farmer and Drys' own chapel. Philomel had done a lot in this small room off from Silence Hall; she had painted and scraped and decorated and added as many items of precious icons as she could find. A series of crossed branches - the traditional emblems of Drys - were scattered in various places upon deep green cushions and cloths. The largest pair, those on the altar, where symbols of what mattered to Philomel the most. Firstly an ash branch, that which she had met Veridian under, and secondly, hawthorne, the one her mother had loved. They were signs of love and desire and hope in this else grey drab of a room, where she could be a young innocent girl, free from pain, protected beneath the ever-reaching branches of the Mother Tree.

But, still, they did nought to shelter her from the shock that addled through her system. Such a profound impact did the name he spoke have, that the Nightingale lost her balance as her legs gave to. Hooves began to weaken, muscles began to waver like jelly, bones became useless as she crashed down onto one knee, a sudden gasp of air escaping from between her lips.

"What the fuck?"

The bastard male faun seemed a little confused. Now he was the one standing up and she was the one kneeling. Situation reversed, power changed hands, what was this day ... a complete farce?!

"I - I," the thing blushed again - damn him - and tried to speak, "You ... you knew my father? Enna van der Terra?"

"FATHER?!" she screeched at the top of her voice.

Feelings - trauma, fear, wonder, bewilderment - spasmed through her head, all trying to find their own place.

Frigging FATHER?! What the Underworld was going on?

"I mean first him," she threw an accusing finger at Veridian. The fox just nickered cheekily and pounded right paw to left paw, right paw to left paw, right paw to- "In my head, jabber, jabber, jabber, then your damn pigs stealing tarts from my good baker dealer. I mean what is going to think of fauns now, hmm? Where am I going to get my messages secretly in bread rolls from now, hmm? You think this can be sorted, fool, by your 'searching for you father'. Pffftt, good luck with that. I mean, you come here, expected Radasanth to be all perfect - oh where's my daddy, oh where is Enna, oh, I am his frigging son!"

She got to her feet again. She needed to pace. Pacing was good, especially in here with the stonework floor. Her hooves went click clack over it, telling the world she was here. The space was small, but she could walk in circles for ages. The material of her skirt messed with the movement of her knees and high-ankles, therefore she grabbed the fabric and ripped it right off.

"Agh!"

The male faun ... her - her half-broth - no it couldn't be, threw his forearm over his eyes. Philomel ignored him and went on with undoing her corset, unbuttoning her blouse, flinging them off to leave the very simple brassier she wore under. The pieces of clothing landed on the floor by the pigs trotters, and the three of them scattered, squeaking with fright.

Pace, pace, pace.

"... Look," the petrified, shaking voice said.

She couldn't even look up to him. She couldn't bring herself to it. For all her life she had wandered why Enna would leave her mother, and for some reason it was - was because of this.

"Look, I am so confused." The piglets were quivering behind his legs. Well, the splotchy one was. The fat one was forwards, growling slightly with open maw, and the other, the ginger, was curiously poking at her corset. "Please," he begged, "I don't know, really I don't know what you are talking about ..."

"I am talking about Enna," she snapped. "The bastard, who you claim to be your father."

"Y-yes ... yes I know, he is. He's the father of my siblings and the husband to my dead mother but ..."

"Oh your mother is dead too is she?" Philomel said harshly, brutally, snapping around to face him, "What a shame."

The words came from her mouth like inky, poisonous, spinning spiders, oozing with venom and saracasm.

"Uhhh ... yes, just - just last month."

Boom. Damn. She stopped her pacing, her hoof that was dragging stilling and coming to rest beside the other. Like an unhinged door her mouth hung ajar, awkward and uncloseable.

"Ah ..." she said, guilt suddenly flowing, "Ah ... well, I didn't know that."

Ebb and flow filled her, and the Nightgale bit her lip for sometime as she chewed over these emotions. Shock, guilt, anger.

"Well yeah," she hurriedly turned around, "Your father is dead too, alright. Sorry to say. He is not here. So if you only came to look for him I suggest you go home and ... yeah ..."

Facing the wall with the door and the elaborate masoned archway Philomel felt her heart twang. Everything, many things - it was a harsh, harsh world.

Facing the truth that she, herself, had brought about Enna van der Terra's death.

[Leaf]

~*~

"What does it feel like?"

"... Its ... Its like a ...

"Like a ball hammer has been taken up and smashed 'gainst the side of my head. Its like a lady's silk cushion has been pressed 'gainst my mouth, hard, and is making me choke to suffocation. Its like a demon's claw has pierced my skin and it scratching 'gainst the walls of my heart organ."

Aye. That's how it feels.

That's how it feels alright.

Ouchie.

~*~

She stands there, like an angel from the Nine Hells, arms folded, looking somewhat agitated. Her hoof nervously scrapes a circle in the dry dust beneath her, and her hair falls beyond her face. Its loose now, not in a plait, and one can notice more the care that has been taken in dying the two locks she has near the front bright violet. In a way they are not garish, they are beautiful. Her face is beautiful. She is, in fact, beautiful.

My sister ...

No. No. No. It cannot be. Not in the reality of all the regions of Althanas, in this dim rotating sphere of a planet. It cannot be.

Cannot.

Seriously?

No. No.

Leaf shook his head furiously, fingers pressed tight to his temples. His incisors bit the inside of his lip, trying to find the sane place in all of this chaos. He couldn't watch her for more than a minute, despite his desire. She was - was something, dangerous yet so tempting. Killer yet a relative. Stranger yet so familiar.

The fox pawed lightly at the air in front of Cookie's eyes, chattering something about ... nonsense. Leaf couldn't understand. But he seemed eager to make friends. However, Cookie was not amused.

Away, the pig squeaked, Away, murderess' accomplice!

"I killed him." He heard her voice resounding in his head. "I killed him for breaking my mother's heart and my future. I killed him because he had killed us in misery. For revenge, for hatred, for everything. He deserved to die. He was a bastard."

I hardly know, Leaf thought. For all my siblings and the age he went ... I barely knew him.

Her confession had been short and abrasive, her tone full of no remorse. From one revelation to another, from sister to patricide committer, from fiendish to complicant. She had told him all, whatever detail he asked, yet still her eyes held not even an ounce of guilt. Not a sparkle or a hint of fear for her soul.

Nothing but honesty and truth and her opinion.

God save his understanding soul. Some day it would be the death of the poor naive farmer.

"He deserved to die."

From this perspective, standing here, Leaf actually had to believe it. At least from her perspective. After all, he had hardly known the man.

Yet it still hurts. So deeply, down below.

Its always going to burn. Always going to be there. Always. Ever since he never returned. Ever since he seemingly abandoned their family, and sent no note of this - this other family. This other wife, this other child, this other world.

In the city. In Radasanth. Away from the paradise of Paradisia. Who - what sort of a man could ... ?!

But no. Leaf had a right. He had a right o be angry with her, to raise his sickle and strike. To try to kill her. After all it would just be revenge ... would it not? Surely ... surely?

He felt an oddity here. Sticking out like a bare wall, unpainted like the rest. But then, then there was no other way to describe his feelings.

He could only weep.

[Philomel]

You reap what you sow.
You have what you know.
Though my eyes threaten to weep I will
Keep them dry and watch you cry.
You are my brother, you wonder why
But all I can do is watch.
All I can do is watch.

After a while you wake.
You get up and you shake.
You swallow and whisper under your breath
You would like some water please,
I go and do not tease
Just return with the water,
I return with the water.

We sit on this hillside and sigh.
We sit here and murmur to the sky.
Under the blue stretch above us wide,
The clouds drift by above,
In this summer of love,
When lost things are found,
Oh lost things are found.

Forgiveness is like faith anew.
Its like fresh morning dew.
Grass touched with the fresheness of dawn,
To bring peace down below,
Into this world of snow,
That turns to summer before us,
Turns to summer before us.

My darling half-brother intertwined,
You may be a fool but I do not mind,
This is life in a world that is mad and absurd
But we are two fine beings
Who have no trouble seeing
That fauns are the best of all
Oh, fauns are the best of all ...

[Philomel]

Epilogue:

Later on they sat on the wall of Radasanth, looking towards the east where the faun-land of Paradisia sat. Philomel had never been but Leaf had spent his whole life there, and so he spent the evening telling her all about it. He named the towns and the rivers and lakes. He told her stories of the farms, of old man Geoff who owned a huge apple orchard, of the slate works up on the rock. He told her, sadly, of when his father had left, and never returned, and then went quiet, not knowing what to think.

Perhaps, in some way, he would one day learn to forgive her, but it certainly was not today. She had surprised him, of course, with the first revelation she was his half-sister, and then with the second that she had caused the death of his - their father. That was a natural reaction, and what was passing between them was also normal, were it in normal circumstances.

But these were not normal circumstances, and they were not a normal family. Leaf had thought about telling someone that this woman was guilty of murder, of patricide but -

Well. Soon after a short conversation Mister Draak and the half-imp Felix had burst into the room. Being a telepath Felix told Philomel immediately what her younger brother was thinking, and things had become a little wry. She had not acted saddened or surprised, but rather shrugged it off, and calmly told Leaf that it was fine, whatever he did she was protected by several of the highest authorities in the lands.

Mister Draak himself, the seething massive troll herbalist, in the guise of a monk, being one.

So Leaf really had no choice. To try, or to remain by her side, and speak of ... things past. Speak of their family. Speak of a new world. Speak of a new life.

After all, it is what he had come to Radasanth for - to find a new beginning, and Philomel could help him find that.

Find it, and keep it.

Keep it and let it last as a legacy for the ages to hear.

[Quentin Boone]

Thread Title: Good Relations (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?27377-Good-Relations)
Judgment Type: Full Rubric
Participants: Philomel, Leaf



As this thread was written by the same person on two different accounts, the feedback will be mostly similar to that of a solo quest.

Plot: 12/30

Story- 5/10
The story told here was generally a good one - two siblings meeting for the first time under less-than-ideal circumstances. The story linked well with the past for both characters, though moreso for Philomel. However, the events didn't seem to link all that well and they felt randomly placed for convenience; most notably the incident at the baker's shop seemed very random and without any real cause except to give the two characters a chance to meet.

Setting- 3/10
The setting was mostly ignored throughout the thread and as such it felt like the characters were acting in a void. While there were occasional mentions relating to setting, they generally lacked depth and didn't give the reader any real sense of where the characters were. To improve here, setting needs to be a consideration throughout the thread and in every post. There doesn't need to be an overbearing dump of information in every post, but little details can really bring setting to life: The sound of bustling people in the market, the smell of cooking bread and pies in the bakery. All almost-insignificant details, but they can really bring a setting to life.

Pacing- 4/10
The pacing was generally okay and overall was deserving of an average score. It didn't stagnate to bore the reader or move too quickly as to sweep the reader along in a torrent. However, points were lost due to the erratic style of writing and the poem in the penultimate post.

The writing style really stifled the pacing and in certain parts outright jarred it out of place. Most notable are the use of single word 'sentences' early on in the thread to show Philomel was bored. While it was probably used for emphasis, it negatively affected the pacing by breaking away from a more traditional style. Also, there were changes in tense and perspective that meant the reader had to double-take some passages to fully understand them.

The poem at the end, while good (see Wildcard), was a real break from the story and your narrative style and made little sense in the context of the thread. As such, it really broke away from the rest of the story and felt like a separate entity. It possibly would have been better served as the final post, after we see Leaf and Philomel reconcile.



Character: 16/30

Communication- 5/10
The communication was generally appropriate and did a decent job of portraying your characters. You did a good job of using internal thought to add depth and further insight. However, nothing really stood out as exceptional and it would have been nice to see a little more clarity in the communication between the pigs and Leaf as it was sometimes a little difficult to discern what was psychic communication and Leaf's own thoughts. The most prominent example of this was when he got the imagery of the baker's shop incident - it, at first, felt much more like a dream than a psychic message/link.

Action- 6/10
Actions mostly made sense and were well used to both show character and move the story along. Highlights include Philomel pushing Leaf along by the neck as a means of showing her dominance in the situation, philomel's fall to her knees showing a reversal. It was an excellent way of using action. The one thing that did really strike as out of place was Leaf going for a random nap in the alley - there were no prior signs of him being fatigued and so it didn't feel accurate. As mentioned above, it felt more like a convenient way to have him wake with a panic.

Actions need to be consistent not just with the character but their situation. Had Leaf been described as tired or sleepy, or some other explanation had been given, it would have made sense.

Persona- 5/10
A good job was done of portraying Philomel's personality and general character. This was helped in part by some of the points raised above that hurt other areas - her erratic mind was well delivered through the narrative, though other means could have been used to do this. The reader managed to get a good insight into her frustration with the situation from beginning to end, and her complete disbelief at finding she had a half-brother.

However, there was very little insight into Leaf's character. This was mostly due to the focus instead being on the pigs. However, the persona effort on the pigs was so thinly spread that it was also difficult to get any real depth about their personas as well. More of a focus on Leaf and less on the pigs would have helped in achieving a highter score here.



Prose: 14/30

Mechanics- 4/10
There were several basic spelling errors throughout the thread which would have been picked up by a spell checker. Grammatical errors were also present throughout, especially the misuse of commas and ellipses. There was use of passive voice on a number of occasions as well.

Improvement here can be easily facilitated by running posts through a word processor with both a spelling and grammar checker.

If you want further, more specific feedback in this area, feel free to PM me.

Clarity- 5/10
While it was generally clear what was happening, the lack of setting made it difficult to clearly see the events, and other areas mentioned above forced the reader to need to re-read sections to fully understand them. Improvement in other areas will boost this score, so don't worry too much about it.

Technique- 5/10
Use of imagery was spattered throughout the thread and was subtle and effective. However, other areas of literary technique felt overused or fell flat. As mentioned in Pacing, the use of single-word sentences for emphasis early on didn't help to really portray the boredom Philomel felt: Show, don't tell. A more effective means would have been a slow, long passage explaining her ennui - a slow, dragging pace can really hit home the feeling of boredom.

There were instances of breaking the fourth wall, which is a technique that very rarely works. An example of this is the 'dramatic pause' comment when Leaf was at the city gate. The pause could have been described using normal narrative techniques or even use of an ellipsis.



Wildcard: 6/10
Honestly, I was a little disappointed in this thread. It was erratic, full of random convenience and generally wasn't well written. I know you can do better, Philomel! Be sure to put your threads and posts through a word processor before submitting.

However, I awarded you two extra Wildcard points because of the poem. Despite the comments I made about it in relation to pacing, it was beautifully written and was by far the best post of the thread. It was awesome!



Final Score: 48/100

Philomel (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?17225-Philomel) receives:


668 EXP!
77 GP!


Leaf (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?17449-Leaf) receives:


497 EXP!
68 GP!


Congratulations!

[Alyssa Snow]

EXP & GP added!