A Beauty : A City [Jan-27-311]Marvelous towers of white rose in the distance, reaching toward the Heaven's above. Merica's chin drew toward the fluffs of white in the sky, the coals of his eyes looking toward the beauty before him. "What art!" His voice sung into the air, flowing down the hill toward the city itself. Luscious grass played beneath his feet, popping up between his toes. Those little blades tickled his soles, making him giddy as a school girl. Large arms flew above his head and digits parted as fluidly as if being willed by Moses himself. "Stephen," he exhaled the name of his friend as he brought his arms down quickly and turned to face his friend, stopping in his march toward the city. "Do people truly live within those very walls?"
Oh what life would lie beyond those walls. What beauty there is to find, if only I were one of them, oh it would be so kind. Merica's eyes gleamed with joy, but deep within he pitied himself. He had seen his image before, and he looked nothing like the man--nor the beings he had encountered. He was large and grotesque, with horns erupting from his scalp. Gnarled knuckles followed block hands, and how could anyone stand to look upon this man? But here stood one who could look upon this man as a brother would. And Merica could feel the friendship ebb from this being, but from the city of beauty could there be such a thing? Would they open their arms and embrace the demon, or would they throw him out on to the dirt path that began in the distance?Edited by: Juggling Jester at: 7/22/07 7:53 pm
"They sure do. There are still rough spots, slums and such if you know where to look. Heard there was a seige or sacking, something with an 's', and a lot of places were smashed to rubble. But the road goes on. People are rebuilding, homes are mending, and there's always use for a healer who happens to be around."
Stephen looked at the city and smiled a bit wistfully. He may have lived in cities, traveled through them and even liked them to some extent, but the earth itself called him son and a Romani never felt totally safe in stone walls. Too easy to be trapped in and kept he supposed, though there was precious little to tie the wanderer down now.
"Come on, she's only grand the first time. Merica, this is Genil. Once you get to know her, you may not want to leave her." Stephen swung his boots by their strings and strolled to the gates. "Take me home to the very last city, where the grass is green and girls are pretty, oh won't you please take me hoooome."
Edited by: Quezacoatle at: 7/22/07 11:34 am
Re: A Beauty : A CityStephen walked toward the city as if he was not affected by its beauty, and Merica merely stood in place and watched Stephen continue forward, his boots swaying to-and-fro. He walks as if the city does not grasp his soul, thought the demon as he began following his friend, arms swinging limply at his sides. Oh what respect I hold for this being Stephen, for be must be an artist. No creature could ever consider walking so idly toward greatness if they did not possess within themselves some beauty beyond mortal knowledge. The warm air flowed across his body, and his spirit seemed to catch the wind as if it were a kite. Large nostrils flared, and oh the smells of the city did bombard him.
Sweet, sweat, stench... Those were the smells of life. They all came together, a cacophony of smells. Small ripples displayed beneath the demon's flesh and he ran to catch up with Stephen, his figure towering above the Romani. The words of the song the man had just sung still hung in the air, the sounds curling their way around Merica's horns and finding their way into his ears. He looked down at his friend, his face broken into that of teary eyed compassion. "You sing of home, Stephen..." Softly spoke the monster, his chest beginning to tighten. "And you wish to be there... Where is home, Stephen? Where?"
Re: A Beauty : A City
"Home was... The last place that felt like home was my Mom's RV I guess. It's trashed and burned now on the side of I-80 somewhere outside Springfield I think." Stephen's free hand tugged at his hair as he tried to remember where dear old Uncle Benny had left the broken down camper.
They were nearing the gaurd houses and Stephen raised his arm in salute, boots thunking together. "New York was alright, the hospital sucked, but no place really felt like home after Mom. Mia and the girls were nice enough but... cities aren't really my 'thing' I guess. Here comes the welcoming commitee." Stephen wondered how hard it was going to be to get Merica sorted through. He hoped not too hard cause the mud was drying and flaking in dark brown and black clods making him feel dirtier than before.
Edited by: Quezacoatle at: 7/23/07 12:37 am
Re: A Beauty : A CityThe duo neared the city gates, and as they came upon them Stephen raised a hand to salute a man in the distance. Better to follow suit and show the man respect than to be ridiculed for not following tradition, Merica thought as his own hand raised. "Here comes the welcoming committee," said Stephen as the guard began to stiffen at their presence of coming upon the city of Genil. Now they were much closer to the city, and it was even more beautiful then before. The ivory walls shown in the sun and the sounds from within the walls enticed the large demon. Emerald veins beneath the ashen flesh began to protrude from their encasing as they came closer, adrenaline coursing its way through Merica's body.
He had never felt like this. One pump. Two pump. Merica's flesh began to jump. It followed the rhythm of his heart, it was basically tearing him apart. It was hard for the thing to stay still, his mouth had and he felt the sudden urge to feel it all. A large hand reached out toward the smooth wall of the city, and suddenly the demon pulled back as if he had been stung by a bee., his index finger falling to his lower lip. "Stephen," he whispered toward his friend, his face contorted into a look of fear. "Stephen, will they kill me?"
Re: A Beauty : A City
"Kill you? What ever for?" Stephen's eyes were a bit wide with confusion. Okay, so the big guy wasn't really what you would call 'pretty' but Stephen couldn't figure how that would matter.
"Nah it's nothing like that. They just have to check out everyone, make sure they get our names and basic descriptions and stuff, remind us of the rules, things like that. As long as you don't like, go around eating babies or starting wars you're pretty much good to go. Besides, you're with me Merica, I wouldn't let someone do that."
The very notion of random murder was abhorent to the healer. He could understand and empathize with killing someone in a fight or for revenge or even for justice, but just killing someone to kill them made no sense. In the words of a great man, 'Murder is illogical'.
Edited by: Quezacoatle at: 8/15/07 11:21 pm
There he stood at his post, armor glinting in the mid-afternoon sun. is face drooped and spoke so loudly of boredom that those who sauntered by his post felt pity for the guard of Genil. A brown, walrus mustache fell down around liver colored lips, and the pallid color of his face was disturbingly un-Genil-like. He was a guard of the city, not a representative of its beauty. From the dirth path he heard oncoming voices, and rose his eyes to meet the owners of those flapping orifices walking down the well beaten trail. "Eh?" the questioning grunt escaped his plump lips as he straightened his back, raising a guantleted hand to his brow. I see man, but what has he? Now the pair stood next to the gate, and the guard's eyes had become hard as slate as Merica approached with Stephen. "Be this your beast?" questioned the questioning guard to Stephen as he walked out of his post, twirking his hips in a self righteous manner.
[/Guard]
Closer to the city they came, and with each step Merica could feel a tinge of fear. Stephen did not know how the demon had come upon this world, but it had been an event as this. Sounds erupted from the forest and Merica could smell the burning of leaves mixed the scent of... he did not know what. And as he neared a woman--a lovely woman--rushed out from a adolescent banana tree. Her body was scantly covered, and she held a wild look in her eye; from now Merica would avoid those with that stare. Her hand rose as her lips parted and she screamed the name Merica Dind. From the wood work a man clad in a mask and leaf attire exploded, raising a large staff in one hand. Now that scent that Merica had smelt with the leaves entered his nostrils so viciously that his stomach had turned, but before he had time to lurch out whatever he had consumed his body had been ate away and sent to another world.
"So they won't kill me," said Merica softly--still leery about the city. "As long as you don't go around eating babies," Stephen said as they neared the city they won't kill you. Deep from the gut of the demon erupted a deep laugh, eating babies? What man in their mind would take a babe and eat it? One would have to be quite wild to take a child and eat it without a second thought. The demon did not know, however, that his species ate children. Not only ate them, but evoured them. Whole families would scream as demons rode through their home, killing and eating, never stopping to think. Now the guard came upon them, "Be this your beast?" he questioned with a voice of esteem. Beast... I am no beast, I am Merica Dind. Anger flushed, but in his mind's ear he heard Stephen's soothing voice, and the spark of aggression fled from his being.Edited by: Juggling Jester at: 7/24/07 10:01 am
Re: A Beauty : A City
Stephen let go of his hair to put a light hand on Merica's arm. "Friend Sir! This is Merica and you know better. Stephen Hart returning from the river covered in mud and Merica Dind, new to Genil."
Stephen's voice was warm and easy, a friendly humor to it that took no offence to the gaurd's tone. Or really to much of anything.
To Merica in a staged whisper he added; "Don't mind him, he's a grouch."
So the Healer--Stephen Hart--was with the likes of a demon. Those plump lips twitched beneath the walrus' mustache, and he had to refrain from letting out a distasteful laugh. What was this world coming to? Nowadays you saw healers with demons, the world was upside down. Nothing was right since the attack on the city, and the guard knew it. His shoulders rose and fell with a deep sigh, because since the demon had done nothing wrong (Yet, he thought) within the White Walls, he could not ban the black being. Hands slipped sluggishly from his sides, and he shook his head with disbelief at the words he spoke. "Welcome to Genil, the White City." Lacking the enthusiasm he would have normally voiced, he guard returned to his post aggrivated. Demon, you will slip-up in there... There's no way someone of your kind can go without maiming the innocent. Merica Dind, heh... Who named you? And you, Stephen Hart, when your friend performs his misdeed, you shall fall as quickly as he--you heathen loving lunatic.
[/Guard]
The monster stood beside his companion, his shoulders drawn back as the guard addressed them. He could feel the arrogance pour from the guard's body, and it made him sick. Could there be more beings such as this within the walls of such a beautiful city? Oh yes Merica, there are. People in those walls will redicule you, beat you down, and throw you out. But who will stand by your side but a healer? Stephen Hart will be there for you every step of the way, or so you hope. Merica's heart jumped to his throat, where had this inner voice come from? He did not know, just as he did not know how he came to be in this world. The world was new to him and he feared it, but within this fear he lusted for it. Lusted for all the beauty that would lay within, and where would he find it? Within the walls of Genil? Possibly, but he was a demon and being so the darker side of the world would call to him, for the foresaken always had open arms for the outcasts of the world.
Stephen Hart, humanity at its best. He stood beside Merica, not wavering at the guard's arrogant boasts; in a schoolyard Stephen would have been the brave child who stood beside his weaker friend's side. And the guard had backed down and allowed them entrance into the White City, and did Merica feel joy.
Re: A Beauty : A City
Stephen gave a jaunty salute to the guard's back and grabbed Merica's hand to lead the larger man through the city. "Sometimes you get that, no matter where you go. Just don't take offence cause it's never personal. People are universally consistant in their near sighted veiw points and pessimistic attitudes. Just roll with the punches and you'll be fine."
Stephen's smile was gently mocking, though who he was mocking wasn't clear, probably himself and humanity in general. "Personally I think everyone stops listening to their hearts around five. After that it's all downhill. But sometimes you find someone you can save. Not always..." Stephen trailed off and shook his head. "Anyway, welcome to the white city, mostly yellow and dirty in places. That there is the palace, and over in that general direction is the best bar in town. Or the only one, I haven't spent too much time looking."
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