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Cherry-x-Sorbet
Captain

Tipsy Guildswoman

PostPosted: Wed May 28, 2014 1:24 pm


{Picture soon}
 
PostPosted: Sat May 31, 2014 12:47 pm


Iced Cherry Latte



A young girl looked at the slip of paper in her hand. It held an address, which she compared to the building she was standing in front of. This young girl...young woman, rather, she looked about fifteen...seemed like an ordinary young woman. She was slender, almost sickly seeming with her thinness and paleness. But it gave her a sort of ethereal attraction. This was offset by dark black hair, her genuine color, with streaks of deep, deep blue-purple edged with silver. Genuine or bottle, uncertain. And her blue eye was a brilliant hue, as well as her silver one.

....Blue and silver?? And her clothing looking fine as if of silk?? Umm...

With an expression that seemed to be of distaste, the girl's riding boot heels...genuine leather, shiny and with a natural armor of sorts that would make one wonder what animal they came from...clacked against the ground and cement as she walked up to the door with the number on the small scrap of paper. Folding it neatly and sticking it into her dress coat pocket...also a shiny, odd leather...the girl looked at the door, then the knob for a second. She shrugged, and knocked once, a bare tap of her gloved knuckle. Blue and silver eyes glowered at the door, the girl impatient.
Hmph.

Bending slightly, the young woman slid a glove off, muttering under her breath as the nails of her right hand lengthened and darkened. And she proceeded to pick the lock with her first two elongated claws. It was still close to the new moon, relatively. Lucky her. Unlucky for the program she had just left who had been trying to get her transport to this place BEFORE the new moon. They knew her moods...and were right to fear them. They just didn't have enough tranqs this past month.

Standing, the door opening, the girl's hand was normal and the glove in place as she strode in and shoved the door closed with a foot behind her. She blinked once and looked around, waiting, dropping the black duffel-style leather bag she'd been carrying the whole day.



(aaaaaand we start~! biggrin heh, some introduction XD i will spruce up her format at some date sweatdrop gomen)

Star Ingd Eathe
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Hitched Dragon


Cherry-x-Sorbet
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Tipsy Guildswoman

PostPosted: Wed Jun 04, 2014 9:36 pm


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By all appearances, Navarre looked to be barely older than a teenager, and perhaps that was a true assessment when he was compared to other members of his race. As an elf, his body aged much more slowly than most races, but his mind was well developed for a being who had lived over a century. He was tall, well over six feet, but he had a slim body, making him look willowy rather than intimidating. His eyes were green, as well as his hair, which he let grow for months on end, rarely receiving haircuts or taking the time to style it. Even with its length, Navarre's pointed ears could almost always be seen, making his race fairly easy to identify.

Usually, his demeanor was patient and charming; frowns were typically rarer than his haircuts. But today, he wasn't sure what would be in store for him. He had to prepare his home for a guest...or rather, a new tenant. He was to be a kind of care taker for some girl. Navarre's position on the Council was useful, but when word arrived of this girl, the other members were spooked by rumors. She was supposedly a dangerous threat, but after hearing a little more, the Elf just thought that the town had too many old fodders. Since he was the most open minded about this mystery girl, he was given the responsibility of fostering her; really, he believed that they expected him to study her and ensure that she stayed out of trouble. As if he didn't already have enough on his mind...like what to cook to for dinner!

Approaching his home, didn't bother to withdraw any keys. Locking doors in Janhall was not the usual habit, and he never remembered whether he had taken any precautions or not. Finding it unlocked, he didn't even think twice, figuring that he had left it that way...until the scent of cooking food reached his nose. Among his senses, his sense of smell and hearing were greatly superior to even his race's standards. Still, he did not pause. Instead, a smile grew on his face as he realized that his problem was solved, and his best friend must have stopped by to attempt cooking again. Closing the door behind him, he turned the corner into his kitchen, his mouth half way open as he prepared to greet a familiar face...but instead, he found a stranger. A few seconds passed before he realized that he was still silent, but finally he asked, "How well do you cook?" It seemed like an odd question, but it was his greatest concern for several seconds before realization dawned on him. "Are you Krishi'in?"


{ooc: n/a}

Star Ingd Eathe
PostPosted: Thu Jun 18, 2015 3:11 am


Cherry-x-Sorbet



After the initial meeting, with the girl tearing into Navarre for making her wait until she had to cook for herself...as she was serving just enough food for herself, not a whole lot left over that the elf could have eaten...it had been an odd time. The girl...Krishi'in...wasn't a nice person. She generally came off as cold and selfish, quite rude and cruel. But Navarre had managed to survive a few unexpected moments around the new moon, Krishi'in had to grudgingly give him that. She still disliked her situation, though. Calls from the high school where students had troubles with her, and then more calls from where Krishi'in had stopped showing up. The girl barely tolerated Navarre, but followed the rules he set down. Sort of. As in barely. As in they got bent so far they almost broken under their own lack of flexibility.

The minotaur popping in had been interesting, the only real emotion to enter Krishi'in's face having come at the time. Pleasure at the destruction the brute had caused. Even then, it wasn't like anything had really happened.



~_*_~



Navarre...you're late. Again Krishi'in crossed her arms, scowling and tail flicking around unhappily. I will NOT continue cooking, if you will not return on time for it to make a difference she stated, tone cold. Almost more shrew than girl. But no one could deny, that her time with Navarre had made the girl look a LITTLE bit more normal. Barely. She filled out a little, although still seemed a bit on the thin side. Her color had improved too, although she was still pale. Krishi'in had let her hair grow out, but didn't seem to bother much with it aside from a woman-Nazi style ponytail or...GASP!...the occasional braid. It's a week from the new moon. Don't keep screwing up...! she snapped, turning on her heel to head to her room. And didn't QUITE slam the door closed. Yup, Krishi'in hadn't really changed much.

The rumors had been SORT OF true, in that Krishi'in was a danger. But, if one had the patience to put up with her self-centered hauteur and 'strict' manner, she didn't really do anything. There had been one time, though, that Navarre had opened her door close to the new moon, and his hair had been caught on fire... That had made Krishi'in smirk, and laugh a chilling, unsympathetic laugh at what slight misery Navarre had to go through. It probably wasn't AS bad for Navarre as it could have been, since watching her had almost become a full-time job. And since he was 'home-schooling' her, too, it wasn't like Navarre had to do much. Especially since, for whatever reason, Krishi'in was in the habit of cooking. At least for herself, unless Navarre thought to ask for her to make some for him. Well, it'd have to be more of a request, and Krishi'in either sulkily complied, or found an excuse not to. Or did something completely outrageous and while palatable...well, it wasn't always palatable. Edible, but not necessarily tasty. Although it was always gone afterwards if Navarre left it in the fridge, without any signs of having been disposed of in any other way aside from the gastric. Weird. Almost spookier than Krishi'in at the new moon.


Seriously, all this time, and he's still an idiot Krishi'in muttered, laying flat on her bed while reading a magazine she had nicked earlier that day. Scowling, Krishi'in chucked it into the trash without looking, closing her eyes. Annoyed and aggravated, Krishi'in rubbed at her mis-matched eyes. The coldness inside of her seemed to harden, a stone in her middle...the ache of loneliness. Pain of isolation. Krishi'in let it grow into a near-psychotic sort of desperation, then burned it, stewing the pain with anger. Gritting her jaw, Krishi'in faced the wall, forcing her snarl into blankness. She had been 'taught' well, faces filling her vision before...blank. Always, blank. Netherworld and dark gods of the forsaken depths...Krishi'in was tired of this. Tired of a lack of memory...a lack of control.


(...)

Star Ingd Eathe
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Hitched Dragon


Cherry-x-Sorbet
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Tipsy Guildswoman

PostPosted: Mon Jun 29, 2015 2:38 am


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Entering his home with an arm full of books, Navarre had almost jumped at the sound of Krishi'in giving him a lecture of sorts. He rose a brow, setting aside the pile in his arms on a nearby table. "I know, I-" He was cut off by her exit, as stern as usual but at least she hadn't slammed the door to her room...not exactly, anyway. With a small, almost inaudible sigh, Navarre decided to put away his purchases, placing the new cookbook in the kitchen and the rest on the shelves in his own bedroom. All but one, which he stared at for a few minutes.

Krishi'in had been an interesting roommate, if that was the right title for her. He supposed ward fit their relationship better, but Navarre had never really cared enough to worry about what he should refer to her as. Instead, she had always just been Krishi'in, the girl who cooked odd meals and could cause rather unsual, sometimes dangerous, things to happen. Especially around the time of the new moon. Navarre had faced a few of her interesting 'accidents,' as he preferred to call them, but nothing overly serious had happened while she was in his care. All in all, Navarre believed that Krishi'in was a good person, someone who might still need a lot of training when it came to her abilities, but a good person nonetheless.

Refocusing on the book in his hands, he gave a small sort of shrug before placing it onto his shelf, besides many others. He worried about Krishi'in sometimes, like when she shut herself into her room. It was a common occurence, but still Navarre hoped that she would find someone she could relate better to. He clearly wasn't someone she wanted to open up to, so even after all this time, they could go days without saying more than a handful of sentences to each other. And most of those were about schoolwork.

Returning to the kitchen, Navarre decided to practice the recipe he had promised to at the bookstore. It called for very few ingredients, so he had gather his supplies quickly. Maybe Krishi'in would be willing to sample his creation...although it didn't really matter if she liked them or not; Navarre was certain that whatever she said would not tell him anything. He'd have to watch her reaction to the food.


{ooc: n/a}

Star Ingd Eathe
PostPosted: Mon Jun 29, 2015 9:54 pm


Cherry-x-Sorbet



The sound of voices, light and airy, seemed to carry through the air. Quiet laughter, calls and cheers sweet and gentle, but full of energy. Full of mischief.


Wings fluttered and glints of pale colored lights burst in through a window, spinning and ducking everywhere, like single-toned hummingbirds quickly exploring through the house. Papers flew from speedy passage, giggles and yells whooping through before a quiet whistle and the dim lights left. One paused in front of Nevarre, a wide-eyed young 'boy' with glimmering wings. He grinned with wicked glee, yanking on Nevarre's bangs with a few hairs coming loose. Hooting, his abrupt exit with the other barely-lit figures left bits of chaos here and there in the echoing silence.


Pixies
 

Star Ingd Eathe
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Hitched Dragon


Star Ingd Eathe
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Hitched Dragon

PostPosted: Tue Jun 30, 2015 1:58 pm


Cherry-x-Sorbet



Laying back in her bed, Krishi'in had caught the beginning scents of SOMETHING going on in the kitchen. She frowned, opening her mis-matched eyes. What was that dunderhead elf...so much for powerful and wise, he was too derp...doing?? He'd better not wreck our resources... the girl grumbled. Standing, she went towards her door, interrupted by the high-pitched chatter and excitement.

A light burst through her cracked-open window, Krishi'in always preferring the cold night air and darkness to anything else. The girl moved into a crouch, tail lashing as she growled at the light. Eyes narrowed, Krishi'in's lips curled in disgust, her tail snapping out to swat at the 'light'. It dodged, giggling and bobbing as if drunk, making a huge mess of her near papers and journal-style notebooks before it left. Krishi'in moodily slammed open her door.
What in Neatherrealms is going on?! Krishi'in demanded to know, angry. Her eyes widened at the other dots, the girl waving her arms to keep them away, shoulders hunched and her tail striking out. Missing, of course, but they still obviously agitated her.

Fuming as they left, Krishi'in stomped into the kitchen, glaring at Nevarre as if it was all his fault.
WHAT, was all THAT about? And WHAT do you think you're doing to our supplies? she growled at him, arms crossing and tail flicking around unhappily. Krishi'in kept up a hot glare, hair messed up a bit and hat tilted at a slight skew; apparently one of the pixies had managed to muss up Krishi'in a bit without her realizing it. Pointy eared 'handler', pointy eared little pests... The connection was clear. And Nevarre was at fault. Of course, Kroshi'in kind of always had the attitude that Nevarre was at fault, in a sense, even if only in the manner of being flawed. Stupid elf, stupid council deciding her fate. Stupid world, stupid everything.


(I think I'm going to have Krishi'in be not quite aware of what pixies are XD pretty sure she'd have had training to recognize them and kill them for them being a nuisance, but at the same time, it'd be interesting if Krishi'in wasn't aware that these were tiny Fae XD)
PostPosted: Wed Jul 01, 2015 12:07 am


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As he worked, Navarre naturally grew silent. Concentration was always something the elf either had completely, or not at all. So when he was working on something, even something with food, he was quick to tune out any distractions. Leaving a window open had been a bad idea, something he realized the second he heard voices roll into the room.

Navarre looked up from measuring out some chocolate, his expression annoyed at first, but quickly changed to one of curiosity as he spotted wings. The beings moved fast, almost as if they were popping bubbles of color as the zipped around the kitchen. He noticed a few of the little creatures leave to explore the rest of his home, but his attention was quickly captured by a single boy. He'd come to rest just in front of Navarre's face, allowing the elf to realize who these folk were. The fae were a people Navarre knew little of, but he did recognize them from his earliest wanderings in the woods around his home. They had always been energetic and playful, sometimes even a little too-

Yup. They were definitely fae.

As Navarre rubbed the spot the boy had pulled out his hair, he couldn't help but suppress a small chuckle. Sure, it had stung for a second, but the elf was happy to see so much energy in his home.

Upon their exit, he found himself still smiling, no longer bothered by their interruption. It was nice to meet new creatures, although he couldn't help but wonder if they had just been passing through or perhaps were accompany another person. He supposed he would find out soon...but for now, he was content with returning to his creations.

Too bad Krishi'in had something to say about the appearance of pixies.

"Uhh...new neighbors? Maybe travelers?" Navarre paused, considering the possibility of his words. He supposed summer was the time for tourists and the like, but it had seemed odd that the fae had chosen his home to explore...Maybe they were stopping at every place on the street?

"I'm baking." he said, looking back to Krish'in as she demanded to know the fate of their 'supplies.' Really, he didn't want the girl to worry about food, or anything really. Navarre made plenty at his job, enough to support them in a very comfortable lifestyle. "I found a recipe for cake pops, and the ladies in the bookstore both suggest it to me." he added after another moment of awkward silence between the two.

After a few more seconds, the elf looked back to his bowl of chocolate. He snatched it up, turning on his heel to place it in the microwave. Selecting a few buttons, he waited until he heard the gently whir of the machine to kick on before speaking again. "Have you ever met a pixi, Krishi'in?"


{ooc: n/a}

Star Ingd Eathe

Cherry-x-Sorbet
Captain

Tipsy Guildswoman


Star Ingd Eathe
Crew

Hitched Dragon

PostPosted: Wed Jul 01, 2015 2:02 am


Cherry-x-Sorbet



Two LADIES recommended it to you...? Krishi'in said, words slow and tone cold as she narrowed her eyes dangerously. Straightening, the girl came over, expression haughty and dismissive as she watched the chocolate microwave. She smirked, eyes hard. You're going to ruin it that way she commented, seeming smug at the thought of Nevarre failing. Granted, Krishi'in knew that there WERE ways to microwave chocolate and have it turn out right...but she still preferred the double-boiling method. More control over the end result, less likely to go wrong. Or taste weird from plastic or whatever used if squeezing the chocolate as a sort of filling.

Leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, Krishi'in just smirked as she watched Nevarre 'baking' with an unblinking stare. Scoffing at the thought of travelers...in a RESIDENTIAL area?...Krishi'in narrowed her eyes more, seeming nearly asleep, at the elf's question.
A pixy... Krishi'in said, voice slow and disbelieving. You're asking me about PIXIES... Growling, the girl straightened from against the wall, shaking her head. But more in disgust than in denial, although she genuinely was NOT all that familiar with the Fae. While she knew how to take care of most creatures that would oppose her, the girl's knowledge about the Fae was pretty limited; the idea was to kill any who opposed her, not make deals with them. And since her skills weren't likely to summon any Fae, it wasn't like she knew how to make deals with them. They were too 'life' and 'light' oriented, even the more crazy ones, for her powers to reach them. Blood and death, darkness and pain, those were the orientations of the creatures she could summon.

But Fae? No. Use iron, and don't talk to them, and that pretty much covered Krishi'in's knowledge of them. But she wasn't about to tell Nevarre that.
Don't burn down the house Krishi'in huffed, tail thrashing as she turned around and head back to her room. Idiot would be heard, a grumbling mutter before Krishi'in closed her door. THIS time slamming it, another, quieter slam and muttered swearing being the girl closing her window. Annoying...but Krishi'in could admit the intelligence and necessity of restricting access to these 'pixies'. Annoying pests. She'd had to steal some bug spray from somewhere, then. Maybe summon a giant spider, make some heavy-duty webbing in her room. Either way, the girl's mood was sour, annoyed with the pixies and the mess they had left.

Krishi'in worked on rearranging her room, putting everything back into proper order. She was neat, fastidious almost. Another reason she was constantly agitated with Nevarre; he was so carefree, in a sense. Not that he was MESSY, exactly...but Krishi'in couldn't stand the 'chaos' of his personality. How absent-minded he was. Just the thought of it, on top of the mess the pixies had left, got the girl's blood boiling. Gritting her teeth and closing a hand tightly into a fist, Krishi'in silently seethed, fuming as she got things put away. A quick glance in a mirror, and Krishi'in snarled at the mess of her hair. That did it. She'd been seen with that mess, presumably.

Taking care of her personal appearance, Krishi'in stormed...quietly...out of her room.
If your RELATIVES come back, tell them to STAY OUT from. My. ROOM she demanded with a snarl to Nevarre, heading outside and slamming the front door. Moving out to the street, the girl quickly faded out of sight in the darkness, prowling the night in privacy-needing moodiness. It wasn't the first time she had left, generally keeping to curfew...her curfew, not Nevarre's. But the girl was always back the next morning. If only because, a time or two, she had woken up Nevarre from a sound sleep just so that he could let her in. Krishi'in had had her keys, but the girl enjoyed bothering him, disrupting his schedule. So she'd do that every now and then if Nevarre seemed too 'happy' for Krishi'in's sadistic tastes.


()
PostPosted: Wed Jul 01, 2015 3:14 am


Cherry-x-Sorbet



Magic is a beautiful thing...
Lovely...



If anyone had been watching, a few days ago a moving van had pulled up to the once-empty house. An older middle-aged man, on the shorter side, had gotten out of the driver's seat to open up the back, a younger, taller man sliding out from the passenger side to unlock the house. They both quickly worked, taking out boxes of various sizes, both of them hauling...a touch awkwardly, thanks to height difference...a heavy-looking table of a rich dark wood, beautifully polished. Within short time, the van was unpacked, and they shook hands. A laugh from the younger man in response to a scowl from the elder, but the scowl didn't seem annoyed or anything.

It had been quiet, the young man rarely seen outside of the house. And when he was, it was in the backyard, and then back inside. The blinds stayed closed, and in general the young man left his neighbors alone.

But then the pixies had run through, along the street causing mischief in various homes...



KNOK KNOK KNOK


There was a young man standing at Nevarre's door. One long-fingered hand was closed, as if holding something precious. Expression seeming a touch-absent minded, rich forest-emerald green eyes were deeper set in a plain face that nonetheless held character, a sort of weathered look to it. But there was also kindness, a slight mischief glint in the thoughtful eyes. The girl had already left some time ago, before he had come over. For all intents and purposes, this man hadn't been aware of the activities in this house.

Young, he'd still look about mid-twenties, and subtly a little worn around the edges...not as if tired, but with slight lines barely seen at his eyes from laughter and time outside. He wore a near-cream sort of peasant's blouse-like shirt, collar turned and pressed neatly but with the top two of the three buttons undone. Enough to show the slightly-tanned muscle of his throat, and a peek at collarbone, but not much else. The shirt seemed to be made of some sturdier material than what was usually used for that style, a comfortably loose shirt but able to cope with average-day wear-and-tear better than the silk or sheerer fabrics usually found. Like being under the strap to a document tube, seen crossing up and over his right shoulder. It was all over comfortable black jeans, almost dressy, with nice but comfortable shoes. Almost a sort of business casual, especially the shoes. But still comfortable for walking, traveling, or doing every-day things. Face fairly plain, without a necessarily strong jaw or chin, but not feminine either, it was like the face would be forgettable...if it wasn't for the eyes, such a rich forest-pine sort of green, yet holding the luminosity and clarity of emerald eyes. The color of the eyes caught attention, and the personality showed through them made the man memorable. Likable. He had a face that laughed, or was calmly thoughtful, kind. Although there was a slight darkness, almost a worry, always just in the back... It was only clearly noticeable to those accustomed to seeing pain, or tragedy, or once someone knew him well enough. Otherwise, it just added depth under his slightly-untidy black hair, character to peoples' impressions of him.

His one hand was closed, the other hand with long, agile-looking callused fingers tapping against his thigh slightly. Not as if impatient, more like the man was used to calmly waiting long periods of time...as if it was to a song as the fingers moved. Back slightly angled to the side gave anyone looking out from a peephole in the door a clearer look to the document tube, longer as if for a large poster, or say a map. All in all, he seemed to be an artist, or one of the theater type, with a bit of class but looking comfortable. Bits and pieces here and there could show the astute that he was a man used to traveling, used to walking and not afraid of physical exertion. Calm, patient, this was a man who wasn't bothered by much. And even if he wasn't necessarily an ACTIVE type of person, in the sense of always busy, nonetheless he would certainly NOT give off the impression of a man letting Life pass him by. He did things, yes. But calmly, patiently, in his own time...

Less the adventurer, more the quiet one orchestrating things while others looked away to flashier distractions. A subtler, and therefore in a way more dangerous, man.

And he was standing in front of Nevarre's door, about 5' 11" inches of lean body and endless patience. His fingers tapped out the song playing in his head, a piece of Classical music, a slight smile curving the mobile lips. Not drop-dead gorgeous, like a movie star. But while girls dreamed of actors and models, there was still that gap, that chasm between their idols and reality. You couldn't talk to a model. You could talk to this man, though, SOMETHING about him a quiet charisma in his smile, a light glint to his eyes, or his low, calm voice, his sincere but gentle moments of laughter. And how he was always polite, seeming to have an old-world charm to the women, bowing and gracefully courteous, complimentary. Always sincere, always endearing in a sense, and almost always a constant flirtation. Yet without giving the sense of leading anyone one, it was just a quiet teasing to pay women complimentary attention. A fun game, to most, with this darkly mysterious man.

Mysterious, but no more, finally being seen reaching out to a neighbor.



Deadly to cross, fatal to those who mishandle such Power
Meae deliciae, c** sis semper quietos filium nostrum.
Me paenitet, et memoria semper tenere.




(Sorry, I know I'm mentioning a lot of stuff here for the female perspective, but he DOES tend to have a 'girl' problem XD it's tempting to say that Krishi'in isn't entirely immune, but that's just me really enjoying my Magus...she'd probably be able to tell he's a Magus, a STRONG one, and she'd be more attracted to his Demonic power than anything else s: lolol

Congratulations, dark mysterious handsome strange on your doorstep, neighbor for all of three days and two nights XD
)

Star Ingd Eathe
Crew

Hitched Dragon


Cherry-x-Sorbet
Captain

Tipsy Guildswoman

PostPosted: Thu Jul 02, 2015 1:36 am


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Navarre knew he should probably feel insulted by Krishi'in surprise at his comment, but even he could admit that it was true...the elf was naturally shy, especially when it came to crowded venues such as the shops on the boulevard. Her criticism of his melting method, however, drew a look. Not quite a glare, but he did look back at her as the microwave continued to whir softly. Once it beeped, he pulled out the bowl carefully, using a fork to stir the discs, watching as the chocolate melded together. Thankfully, none of it had burnt; he wasn't sure what he'd do if he'd messed up on such a simple task.

He could feel her eyes on him, watching as he began to dip the formed cake balls into the chocolate. He looked back up when she spoke, making her view on the matter very clear. Hey, I..!" Navarre would have protested her calling him an idiot; his hearing was superb, and she knew it...but was it really worth it to finish his sentence, so full of defense? No. No, he knew that Krishi'in was probably just in a lousy mood. The pixies had come into her space, and he understood how annoyed that must have been, especially since they were strangers. There was no reason for him to get upset or let an argument brew. So instead of worrying, he continued to work. Some of the balls were adorned with sprinkles, a few with almonds, and even more drizzled with white chocolate. Truly, Navarre appreciated the artwork that went into baking; he had an eye for it, and considering nothing had burnt, especially not the house, thank you very much, he figured they wouldn't taste half bad either.

Navarre had just placed the finished cake pops into the fridge to set and let the chocolate harden when Krishi'in crossed the living room to the door. He just gave a simple nod to her request, or demand rather. She left, and he allowed a sigh to escape him. It had been over a year, and some days he wished he could do more to brighten Krishi'in's mood. Not change her personality, he reminded himself. He just wanted to let her live outside of her sour moods and tough nights.

A few minutes passed where he tidied up the loose papers and bumped knick-knacks the pixies had left behind. With all of that done, he moved back to his room, taking advantage of Krish'in's absence to retrieve a certain book from his shelf. It wasn't that he was afraid of the girl seeing or even reading the book herself; he just didn't want her to ever see him reading it.

The book was simple, the binding and cover doing no justice for the content inside. Only the title gave a hint to the importance of the book: Morthil. The name of Navarre's father, a man he had grown to distrust and dislike. It was always difficult for him to read these passages. Navarre had only gotten a handful of pages through the journal, but now he would attempt to read more. Katrina was always telling him to push further into his history and face what he had gone through...

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Navarre rose his head, one eyebrow raised in question. Sure, Krishi'in had forgotten her keys tons of times but...that did not sound like her kind of knock. Standing, the elf ran quickly back to his room, tossing the book on his bed before hastily before returning to the living room. He opened the front door after a second, his expression curious but kind as he took in the sight of a man before him. He was shorter than Navarre, as everyone usually was, but that did mean he was short for his kind. His green eyes caught Navarre's gaze, but he looked away automatically. Instead, he noticed the man's shoes before looking back up to his face. He seemed...friendly? Definitely friendly, which was nice; Navarre had begun to feel that his night would hold only negative feelings. Though he was interested in what could possibly bring a stranger to his doorstep at this time. "Hello!" he said, keeping the questions out of his tone to adopt a friendlier greeting.


{ooc: Yay for a little teaser about Morthil, }

Star Ingd Eathe
PostPosted: Thu Jul 02, 2015 2:08 am


Cherry-x-Sorbet



Magic is a beautiful thing...
Lovely...



A single blink at Nevarre's appearance at the door but then there was a clear smile. Friendly as well. Hello. These were on my desk the young man's low, calm voice said. He opened his closed hand, showing Nevarre a small plastic bag, holding the hairs that had been yanked from him. The man gave a vague gesture, frowning slightly. As well as others, but I saw you through the window, and I figured these were yours. He smiled slightly, free hand reaching into a pocket to show a couple other small bags, his expression exasperated. I honestly don't understand what those little sprites think they're doing he commented, looking at Nevarre apologetically. They just...tend to follow me around. Strange, I suppose...

Shrugging, the stranger made sure that Nevarre had his hair, the others going into his pocket. Genuinely, they all will receive theirs in the mail. It was just... He had been curious. And catching sight of Nevarre through the window...as he had said...he had wanted to confirm something. And yep, it was confirmed. Green hair, youthful features...pointed ears. The pixies hadn't been lying. One of the Greater Fae were here. Well, 'greater' than pixies, anyways.

He lived across the street from an Elf.

That would take some getting used to, the man genuinely surprised that this elf hadn't bothered using a glamour or anything. Although, this place HAD been discreetly advertised as a place to let people live freely... Realizing he'd been lost in thought, the young man at Nevarre's doorstep smiled wryly.
My apologies... he said in his clear, smooth voice. It was almost like honey to the ears, without being too sugary. Sweet, without being dangerous. Certainly a grown man's voice, no one could mistake him for a child. Even if the impish grin seemed to belong to a young boy caught in some trick, yet being unashamed of it. Unrepentant. This man had an unrepentant grin. It was the kind of smile hard to frown at, that encouraged others to grin along. As if he was bringing them in on some joke. I suppose I'm still adjusting to the timezone change. Also noticeable with his voice, would be a decidedly European accent. British, to be specific, but not in your face...light, with almost a Celtic lilt. But still decidedly British, although what PART from the United Kingdom's primary empire would be difficult to track down.

A scent crossed his attention, and the man blinked as a glint of interest made his curious green eyes gleam under his heavier brows. He could smell the cooking that Nevarre had done, silently taking in a deeper breath. This young man's attention seemed caught, his eyes going right to the kitchen with an amused gleam...but, curious and inquisitive as he may be, the man was keeping put, politely respecting Nevarre's space.
Do you cook often? he asked, tone curious but quiet, calm. That smile was still just slightly tilting the corners of his mouth, the young man's eyes gleaming with the quiet amusement in them. The interest that had been caught. A finger twitched, seeming to be making some kind of gesture... But nothing happened, the man calmly putting his hands in his jean pockets and seeming completely at ease to stand there. All night, if necessary. A timeless patience few have even attempted to master that seemed natural to this man.


Deadly to cross, fatal to those who mishandle such Power
Meae deliciae, c** sis semper quietos filium nostrum.
Me paenitet, et memoria semper tenere.




(Lol

Yay for teasers XD should warn you, though...I may not necessarily be the most reactive recipient to such things ^^; I kind of 'note to self' them, keep them in mind...absorb the information and keep going. I don't always think to react, or put down my reactions sweatdrop
)

Star Ingd Eathe
Crew

Hitched Dragon


Cherry-x-Sorbet
Captain

Tipsy Guildswoman

PostPosted: Fri Jul 03, 2015 4:04 am


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♘➸

Raising a brow as the bag of hair was presented, Navarre paused for only a moment before accepting them back. He was honestly surprised that the pixies had actually taken his hair somewhere, rather than drop the strands as they flew. Still, this solved at least one question; The pixies definitely were not tourists. He hoped that they didn't plan on exploring his home everyday...Sure, Navarre could live with a daily encounter, but he knew that Krishi'in would not be so pleasant about it. "Thank you." he told the man, honestly grateful that he had taken the time to return the hair.

Holding onto the baggie, Navarre had nothing to combat the silence that followed. He was always so awkward around people, new ones in particular...but thankfully, it seemed like the man had been thinking about something else as well. Hopefully didn't notice Navarre's fidgeting through the quiet, he hadn't even noticed himself until it was too late. Oh how he hated the habit, it was something a friend of his was constantly trying to break him of, but she had made little progress.

"Ah, where did you travel from?" he asked curiously, hearing the accent in the man's voice. Navarre had no clue where the man hailed from; he hadn't studied much geography outside of his own homeland and he wasn't used to hearing new pronunciations of certain English words. When the mention of his cooking came up, Navarre rose one hand to the back of his head, his tone amused as he answered honestly, "I try to...but what I make doesn't always come out as food. Edible food, that is." Truly, the only recipes he had ever created successfully were ones that involved baking; all else always seemed a little off to the elf. Granted, he could always count on Krishi'in to tell him exactly what she thinks of a dish.

"Desserts are the only thing I ever make correctly." he added, hoping that he hadn't come across as flat or overly serious...Navarre really did worry too much over other people's opinions; half of the times he felt anxious about being sociable, it could be blamed on his fears of being made into a joke that everyone took too seriously. Doing his best to shake off such worries at this moment, Navarre focused on the conversation at hand. "You're welcome inside, if you like to test what i've made, mister...?" He left the end of the sentence open, having just realized that they hadn't given introductions yet.


{ooc: n/a}

Star Ingd Eathe
PostPosted: Fri Jul 03, 2015 5:31 am


Cherry-x-Sorbet
twisted twisted twisted



Magic is a beautiful thing...
Lovely...



I was born and raised, living most of my life in England the man said, that mischievous glint in his eyes again, as if holding onto a personal secret. Which, in a sense, was quite true...and he hadn't lied. He HAD lived most of his life in England, and that IS where he'd been born, and raised. He made a vague gesture, amused as he was older than he looked. By just a bit. To more accurately answer your question, though... Tilting his head slightly, the fingers moved as if counting, flicking around as if typing...or spinning a globe, the man's eyes half-closed. Let's see, there was Spain, Italy, the United States. A quick trip to China and India, a brief stay in Turkey and chasing down...hmm...was it Israel, or Jordan...? Shaking his head, the man shrugged, seeming sheepish as he looked at Nevarre with a slightly apologetic expression, that mischievous glint still in his eyes. Gentle and calm, yet obviously holding a surprise inside of him; might explain the pixies' attraction to this man, if the glint seeming to invite Nevarre in the joke was any indication. Genuinely, I can't quite remember. A quick laugh, another shrug.

I haven't really traveled much in Africa, although I've been to South America a time or two. My work requires a lot of travel. I don't usually get to stay in one place for very long... A moment of sadness seemed to cross the man's face, regret. His body went still, a strange small smile on his lips. But then the young man seemed to snap out of it, tilting his head slightly as his fingers tapped against the side of his thigh. I think I had been in Russia, before moving here... he mused, voice quiet, gaze distant. For a second, a bit of tension ran through his eyes, but it was gone the next instant with another mischievous smile, although a hint of darkness was still in the depths of his strangely-colored gaze.

At Nevarre's confession, the man just raised an eyebrow. Then...actually grimaced, seeming pained for a time. But the expression quickly cleared, another vague waving motion being made as if dismissing Nevarre's assessment of his own skills.
I highly doubt that. Food is food, even if one person may find it inedible, surely other entities would consider it gourmet. He smiled, not quite a grin but obviously teasing Nevarre a bit. Yes, most people would find this man easy to get along with. Ah, how rather impolite of me! I'm terribly sorry. Holding out his hand to Nevarre, the young man chuckled quietly. Clarence. Clarence Smithson. His grip would be firm, strong but not crushing, dry hand rough with layered calluses on almost all of his palm save the very center. But even that had rough skin. Despite his fancier attire, Clarence had clearly known manual labor. If the fairly broad shoulders, unable to be softened by the smooth lines of the peasant-blouse-styled shirt, were any indication then Clarence was used to a fair bit of it.

An expression of sheer delight, piqued interest, at Nevarre's invitation made Clarence's eyes almost seem to GLEAM even more like a bright emerald in the gloom. Then dimmed, slightly, tempered back...controlled.
Certainly, I would be delighted to. If...I'm not intruding or keeping you awake, that is Clarence added, seeming hopeful. But also patient, polite, giving Nevarre a slight 'bow' with his head in acknowledgement of the niceties considering the late hour for them. When Nevarre simply moved to let him inside, seeming to smile as if shy, Clarence couldn't help his own smile. There was a part of him that was...not nervous, exactly, and not paranoid...still a bit hesitant about just walking into a stranger's home. But, he'd been invited in, so...

If he had to defend himself, it'd be fine. Besides, Elves were supposed to be wonderful hosts. Clarence certainly hadn't had reason to complain in the past. Even if he had to be a bit careful of their food and drink... But his 'current' host didn't seem to be of the High Courts, didn't seem Old World enough. He actually seemed rather...young. A lot more light-hearted than Clarence was accustomed too.
Maybe he's tired of the hustle of the rat race, too... Clarence mused silently to himself.

Following Nevarre through the house, Clarence openly glanced around a bit, curious...but he then kept his eyes to himself. He wasn't there to be invasive, even if old habits died hard. Old habits that kept HIM from dying. Behind the Elf, Clarence's eyes gained a hard edge, ruthless by the lack of emotion, for just a second. But he shook his head, running a hand through his hair as the fingers of his other hands twitched. The atmosphere to the house was calm, quiet...but not quite tranquil. Tilting his head just oh-so-slightly, it was almost a faint taste in the air, a slight bitterness...something had happened recently. Strong enough for him to notice in a stranger's home, a disruption to the set feeling of years in the house. But also so normal, that it didn't quite stand out, anymore...just joined into the other layers. Hmm. It was none of his business, and even if it set SOMETHING in Clarence's mind on edge, he couldn't quite track it down. Couldn't quite tell what was bothering him, although his fingers tapped more against his upper thigh seemingly in a specific pattern but moving too quickly to track what it'd be.

But once upon entering the kitchen... Clarence's face brightened, his eyes flicking around. A little messier than how he'd keep it, dishes in the sink with ingredient wasted; Nevarre was certainly a more casual baker, then, to not take ever last drop of chocolate that he could. Sloppy, so so sloppy. But, in a way...carefree. Although that 'bitterness' seemed stronger here. Maybe Nevarre had been baking to soothe himself? Clarence could certainly relate, fingers twitching to open doors and drawers, explore and 'get to know' this kitchen. Oh well. Hands in his pockets, Clarence didn't bother to hide his curiosity, keeping out of Nevarre's way as he turned around and around, examining things while being so careful to NOT touch. Not his place, not his kitchen...not his Home.
Did you microwave the chocolate...? Clarence asked, examining the bowl used just for that very purpose, seeming to 'smell' his way over to the microwave, actually opening it to read the information just inside the door, lips moving in silence. Clarence closed the door and glanced at Nevarre as he straightened. I personally prefer to double-boil chocolate, myself. Makes for a smoother texture, in my opinion. It takes a little longer, but is certainly worth it once you've picked up the knack. Also, the chocolate is less likely to cool and make a mess to try and reheat, depending on what you're making. However, if you do it right you can add butter with the chocolate, give it an extra sheen. And it also melts better in the microwave, as long as you get the timing right he suggested, unaware of the 'fight' just minutes earlier involving Krishi'in with her snide, derogatory comments regarding microwaved chocolate.




Deadly to cross, fatal to those who mishandle such Power
Meae deliciae, c** sis semper quietos filium nostrum.
Me paenitet, et memoria semper tenere.




()

Star Ingd Eathe
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Hitched Dragon

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