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tushanshu_logs2016-03-03 07:25 pm
shroudofgray) wrote in tushanshu_logs2016-03-03 07:25 pm
(no subject)
Characters: Yorda and You!
Date: Throughout March
Location: Various places in Keeliai and on the turtle
Situation: March Catch-all!
Warnings/Rating: None for the time being.
A - Sing Nonomori
Yorda had fallen in love with music. She had never known anything quite so wonderful in her life (though granted, you could fill an entire library of things normal teenage girls knew that Yorda had zero concept of), and every time there was a performer in the streets, she'd listen to their songs utterly enraptured.
1-She had soon learned that giving these performers money or food was customary, and she'd taken that to heart. She didn't need to eat. There had been no food in the castle - and certainly nothing as wonderful as pastries or bread or the strange wriggly things the food vendors sold (sea prunes had become her favourite dish). It made sense to Yorda that the performers would want something in return for their work, and so she set about trying to find as much money as she could.
The thing was, Yorda had a knack for finding things. She was better than a bloodhound in some respects - once she set her mind to something, there wasn't much use dissuading her. She could be found around the city, rummaging in drains, bins or various other locales for lost coins. More often than not, she was in the way. But she'd also acquired quite a tidy sum.
2-Yorda had grown so enamoured with music that she had wanted to try singing for herself. She found herself an empty alleyway that she could have all to herself to whittle away the hours practicing. She had a reedy, thin voice. It was the kind of voice that had never shouted or made any sound more impassioned than a small exclamation of surprise. As she tried to sound out the words, her voice cracked and broke like spun glass hitting concrete. Eventually she clamped her jaws shut, her brow knit in frustration.
She was doing something wrong, she knew. But what? How did the street singers make such melodious sounds when all Yorda could manage was something somewhat less awful than a cat sliding down a chalkboard?
B- The Root of all Evil
Yorda never had money before. She didn't even know what it was until she came to Keeliai.
Now she had a jingling bag of coins, and for the first time in her life, she was faced with a real conflict of interest.
The dress was a pale yellow and had a tasteful and subtle pattern of birds and flowers embroidered along the skirt and sleeves. Yorda's face was pressed against the glass. She knew the right thing to do was to give the money to the musicians. But she also wondered if she shouldn't save some of it for herself to buy something other than the thin white dress she'd arrived in.
It wasn't like she needed it, nor could she afford it at this second - but for the first time in her life, she wanted a possession to call her very own.
Eventually the store owner had to shoo her off, though she looked back longingly at the display, hugging her bag of juulan just a little tighter.
Date: Throughout March
Location: Various places in Keeliai and on the turtle
Situation: March Catch-all!
Warnings/Rating: None for the time being.
A - Sing Nonomori
Yorda had fallen in love with music. She had never known anything quite so wonderful in her life (though granted, you could fill an entire library of things normal teenage girls knew that Yorda had zero concept of), and every time there was a performer in the streets, she'd listen to their songs utterly enraptured.
1-She had soon learned that giving these performers money or food was customary, and she'd taken that to heart. She didn't need to eat. There had been no food in the castle - and certainly nothing as wonderful as pastries or bread or the strange wriggly things the food vendors sold (sea prunes had become her favourite dish). It made sense to Yorda that the performers would want something in return for their work, and so she set about trying to find as much money as she could.
The thing was, Yorda had a knack for finding things. She was better than a bloodhound in some respects - once she set her mind to something, there wasn't much use dissuading her. She could be found around the city, rummaging in drains, bins or various other locales for lost coins. More often than not, she was in the way. But she'd also acquired quite a tidy sum.
2-Yorda had grown so enamoured with music that she had wanted to try singing for herself. She found herself an empty alleyway that she could have all to herself to whittle away the hours practicing. She had a reedy, thin voice. It was the kind of voice that had never shouted or made any sound more impassioned than a small exclamation of surprise. As she tried to sound out the words, her voice cracked and broke like spun glass hitting concrete. Eventually she clamped her jaws shut, her brow knit in frustration.
She was doing something wrong, she knew. But what? How did the street singers make such melodious sounds when all Yorda could manage was something somewhat less awful than a cat sliding down a chalkboard?
B- The Root of all Evil
Yorda never had money before. She didn't even know what it was until she came to Keeliai.
Now she had a jingling bag of coins, and for the first time in her life, she was faced with a real conflict of interest.
The dress was a pale yellow and had a tasteful and subtle pattern of birds and flowers embroidered along the skirt and sleeves. Yorda's face was pressed against the glass. She knew the right thing to do was to give the money to the musicians. But she also wondered if she shouldn't save some of it for herself to buy something other than the thin white dress she'd arrived in.
It wasn't like she needed it, nor could she afford it at this second - but for the first time in her life, she wanted a possession to call her very own.
Eventually the store owner had to shoo her off, though she looked back longingly at the display, hugging her bag of juulan just a little tighter.
no subject
Was this something she'd talked about with Rue? Erskine couldn't remember, although from her usage of the word he figured he could guess at a kind of context for it. Still holding her hands and directing the continuing trickle of warm water, Erskine smiled.
"Magic. Elemental magic, to be more specific," he added. "I'm pulling the water out of the air. Particularly handy if you're stuck somewhere and thirsty. Or if you need to water a garden on the spur of the moment."