Curly
Pet Name: Curly
Owner: Apache
Theme / Type: Daydream Haruba
Born: August 16, 2009
Gender: Male
MisticPal Name: Acknowledgement
MisticPal Age: 4429 Days
Battle Portal Stats
Hit Points: 4 / 4
Strength: 2
Defense: 3
Speed: 4
Intellect: 6
Misticpower: 3
Battles Won: 1
Battles Lost: 1
| Attached Weapons | |
Books Read
Books Read: 1/373 [ View Books ]
1. Inarbu Guide to Fishing
Exotic Foods Eaten
Foods Eaten: 5/1254 [ View Foods ]
1. - Blue Ghoulish Sucker
2. - Dried Up Cactus Drink
3. - Northern Pomme
4. - Pyramid Cake
5. - Scarab Soup
2. - Dried Up Cactus Drink
3. - Northern Pomme
4. - Pyramid Cake
5. - Scarab Soup
I wandered to the babbling creek, now dry and parched and cold,
and sat where once I'd learned to love,
and now cried and begged to go.
Soon, when I was empty and lost, and only darkness begged the land
to strip us all of sight,
the fates came from their wicked holes,
eyes dark and wide and bright.
They gave me tools to light my way,
to brave the dark and lonely paths
that marred and cursed my days.
So in here, my secrets beg
for want of ears to be still and hear
the tales I have to tell,
but instead the wind does carry my desires,
away, into the silence,
until the day comes where I am delivered
from my misery and ire.
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"You there! You look like you're missing something, out a-walking in the cold. Perhaps you would like to buy from me a cloak, or perhaps you desire something more delicate? Would a rare enchanted ring catch your interest? Or maybe a special headpiece crafted to ward away things that lurk in the darkest corners of the woods?"
ID No. 28M
Curly; "to assume a spiral or curved shape"
nefarious || shrewd || unreliable || brazen
"The Peddler"
Curly is a... trader, of sorts. He barters, trades, and sells wares, but is recognized for his dishonesty and trickery. He is a small-scale magician and uses this skill to alter the appearance of his wares, temporarily, in such a way as to trick the buyer. It is never long before he is found out, which is why he is always on the move, prowling from one marketplace to the next. He never stays in one place for too long.
He spent the first half of his life living in a circus. He performed in sideshows, specifically doing card tricks and games. It was in this environment that he developed his thieving and swindling skills.
During his stay there he became addicted to the art of gambling. He was just discovering his talents in the "finer arts" and was using his abilities to win in overwhelming odds in any kind of betting game he could nose his way into. Eventually he was found out and, because he had taken it to such a dangerous extreme, was forcibly removed from the premises, under threat should he ever return. He has never participated in gambling since.
Curly is emotionally shut off from those around him. He tends to be quite sleazy, lewd, offensive, and ill-mannered. He bears a deep-seated fear of being rejected and refuses to put himself out there.
Curly's talents also extend into the realm of creation. He is a well practiced wood carver, as well as an adept player of all manners of string instruments. He sows his hopes and dreams into the things he makes, and unbeknownst to him, imbues them with magical properties. He keeps his crafts and musical talents to himself, and will not sell anything he himself makes.
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Chasing dreams,
on slow winter days,
wishing away the cold
and asking for things to change.
We see what we aught to be,
but do not act,
it comes knocking at our door,
but we sleep the sounds away.
On gray winter days,
where even the sun is pale,
we try to lay down by the fire,
and find it absent of coals.
In our hearts we beg for petty things,
and sometimes find them,
but in the end the cold comes knocking
to bathe us and wash our colors away.
-----------~-~-~----------~~-~-~-~~----------~-~-~-----------
The sounds and smells of the marketplace clashed and clanged and drifted from place to place, blurring the lines of unfamiliarity and allowing even the strangest of creatures to wander comfortably by, snuffling and drifting and occasionally even snatching wares from those distracted or unaware.
A melting pot, bright and colorful and festive. And I, carefully blended in the middle of such a scattered throng!
Cunning tugged at my lips, I barely hid the resulting grin. And all of these people, gullible, with heavy pockets waiting to be emptied!
A voice dragged me from my greedy fantasies. "What a fantastic place to be, isn't it!" cooed a rather husky fellow as he passed by my little makeshift stand. He bent, for he was quite tall, and peered curiously at all of my little bobbles and shiny things, at my gathered cloths and clothes, tools and ornaments. "And what lovely jewels you have here," he said, admiring a row of shining necklaces laying bare on the table.
"Ah!" I approached him with a flourish, picking up a shiny silver chain adorned with sapphires, "You have a good eye stranger! For what a beauty these are, gathered from all over the land, full of luck and travel, worth and craft!"
"May I?" He lifted his hand to take the jewelry from my talons.
"Why of course!"
He turned and held it high, inspecting the gems in the sunlight. A slow smile crept over his face.
"Yes yes, I think this will do, it is quite perfect I should think, if I know anything of fanciful things!"
I rubbed my hands together behind my back as we finished the transaction. Little did he know, I had deftly and with charm wrestled from him much more gold than the thing was worth. Those stones were charmed, just gray things from the river. A simple parlor trick. In the morn he would find himself with rusted chain and rocks.
It is most easy to trick those that want so much to believe in the magic of material things.
I turned back and worked my way around the booth. While I was arranging my bits of random jewelry into a more aesthetically pleasing arrangement, a very different kind of voice caught my attention.
"You're a magician, aren't you?"
I spun and looked at the little girl whose voice barely rose above the commotion of passersby.
I assumed she was conned, like the man, into marveling at my shiny beauties, and thought it quite a marvelous display. "Why yes I am," I spoke, words dribbling out and laced with much too much truth, "the very subtle kind."
She squinted her eyes and looked at all of my things draped in shade. "Why did that man buy dirty river pebbles?"
My eyes widened, uncharacteristic of one as composed as I. I quickly cut a reply, "Your eyes deceive you, little one, they were much shinier than dirt, and much rarer than smooth pebbles."
My hands contorted into shapes beneath the cloth of my table. Little whispers of words escaped my tongue. I strengthened my well-used enchantments.
"Trickster!" she said too loudly, pointing a finger, "I can hear you tricking, trickster!"
A few who were walking by turned, caught in the drama of the moment. I pulled uncomfortably at an imaginary collar around my neck.
"Ahaha, what an imagination!" I called out, "And what a joker! Haha, ha..." After a silence, those that stared reluctantly moved on.
"Tss, kid! What do you think you're doing?" I whispered hurriedly to her. She stood with her arms crossed, clearly grumpy at being called a liar.
"Pebbles aren't worth that much," she said, more quietly, insistent for agreement. "I should go tell that man!"
I started, but this time retorted with clear authority, "And what then? Who would he rather believe, the noble man who he had pleasantly conversed and bought from, or the little girl who knows only how to be impetuous, accusatory, and angry? He would rather be called sensible by me, than gullible by a child!"
The little girl was very quiet. Her face was scrunched up, still angry, but this time etched also with hurt. Tears started to well in her eyes.
Oh.
"Ah, no no no, don't do that, I didn't mean that." I walked out and put a hand on her shoulder and brought her behind my booth. "Look, see, if you be quiet now I will give you something from my shop!"
She looked skeptical, but the sudden turn of tone made her reconsider her tears. "What would I want of things that are broken and dirty?" she asked, for clearly she could see the lies in all of the things I had enchanted.
This time I did not challenge her. "Not all things are lies, look," and I held out a little amulet, amber with a little beetle trapped within. This one was a more valuable piece.
I had stolen it from a trader long ago, but I did not tell her that. She examined it to be sure it was real. Her eyes lit up for a moment, before she asked, "Anything from your shop?"
"Yes," I nodded, eager to appease this strange little girl so that I might continue to swindle these poor townsfolk out of their hard-earned gold. I looked forlornly for a moment out at the crowd, sure now that they were avoiding my shop.
She pointed to a thing half hidden in the corner, covered with a red silk cloth, and went to grab it.
"No!" I stopped her, unwilling to let someone else handle my beloved instrument. "No," I said softer, "that thing is not for sale, I meant anything for sale."
She harrumphed, unamused. "You said anything." There was a pause. "I will tell them, I will tell them all that you are a liar!"
I was torn, and wondered for a moment if it would just be best to gather my things and leave quickly and try to find somewhere else to sell my tricks. Then I wondered why I was so threatened by such a small, albeit clever, little girl. I wondered lastly at her strange ability to see beyond the obvious. It was abnormal to be so undeceivable.
Then an idea struck me. "Why, do you even know what it is?" I whisked my carved wooden treasure from its space and held it just before her. "Surely you know that this thing is too big to play for one as small as you."
"It's a vi-viola-viol...?" Her hand just barely touched the strings.
I pulled it carefully away. "A violin, my dear, an instrument of pure melody and perfection. It is a thing carved from the silent desires of the soul, so that things without voice might finally speak," I heard myself say. I was surprised at my detail. And further surprised at how true I found my words to be.
"That! I want that!"
"How about," I took my bow from its place, the same careful way a magician might reveal their wand, "I play you a song, instead."
I could see the reluctance on her face, as well as a new kind of wanting. A certain brand of curiosity.
"I will let you keep that amulet there," I pointed to the amber necklace she still had trapped in her palm, "and I will play you a melody, and then you will leave on your merry way, and no one else will hear of this 'trickery' nonsense. How does that sound?"
Her tongue worked out a word, slow and uncertain. "Deal."
"Good!" I clapped my hands together and sat down on the dirt, moving some of my possessions to the side to make room, preparing myself.
For a moment my gaze swept over all the strange people. They paid me no mind, and I paid them none, as when I sat down the flat of my booth table obscured their presence.
I was sure that the bustle of busyness and the roar of chatter would muffle any noise I made.
So, with only one curious little onlooker, I, with some reluctance, raised bow to string and set to work.
My fingers danced over taught cords. My chin brushed against smooth grains. My bow glided and sung out with a voice unmatched by living things.
For a few moments the music overwhelmed me. I played it slowly at first, with sullenness. Eventually my spirits lifted and I played with more vigor and pace. And in all that I poured an essence, a kind of enchantment, one much different from the kind I used to disguise worthless things.
This kind, pure and mesmerizing. A kind that inspired sweet and delicate daydreams. I was filled with this captivating magic.
I drew all the sounds up, and closed the song in one decisive stroke of my arm.
I smiled for a moment at the little girl who stood before me, awed, before reality washed over me like a cold draft.
Everything was quiet. There were almost no voices, and those that did speak spoke in hushed whispers. I stood up quickly --
And was met with people crowding, standing right in front of my booth. They were all listening, waiting for something to happen, still captivated by the ringing melody.
I had not meant to garner so much attention.
Uncomfortable, cold fear crept in my throat. I backed up and tripped, knocking several small stands that held various cloaks and tunics over. I spun my instrument back into its cover, all the while struck with mild panic.
The crowd finally managed to find words, but this did not deter them; in fact, the crowd seemed to grow bigger. They did not seem to be dispersing.
"Haha, nothing to see here folks! Just, uh, tuning an old instrument..."
Those closest bombarded me with questions. There were so many that I could not discern what any individual said.
Mild panic turned to fervor; I packed what little true valuables I had, grabbed my personal belongings, and ducked under the back canvas of the shop.
I took one last look at the little girl, who still sat staring at nothing in particular. She seemed to be caught in pleasant, whimsical daydreams.
I left, pushing through the crowd, and did not turn back. Not until I was alone in damp and dark, ill-begotten places.
I sat down by a dried creek bed, looking over both my shoulders to be sure of my solitude. When I was fully assured, I drew up my knees and hugged my most prized possession close.
I spent a while crying, lost in a sea, overwhelmed by desires that I had long ago forgotten.
~
Curly belongs to Apache.
Renamed AuroraMist -> Curly
[Adopted from RuthieRox as a Daydream Haruba]
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