Making Someone's Day "Why are you always doing things like this?" Keizen sighed in exasperation.
Why are you always so grumpy? Taphram thought, but didn't say. No need to make him grumpier. Instead, he decided he would give the psion a real answer. "I don't really get to be in society very much. For reasons I'm sure you already know." Taphram couldn't help but let out a bitter little laugh, uncharacteristic of him. He didn't like to talk about his curse. "When I get the opportunity, I treasure it as much as I can. I like to meet people, and talk with them, and-"
"And do things like that, right?" Keizen cut in, waving an agitated hand and the restaurant they had just come from. "I mean, you can cook. If you had just made lunch today, you would have saved everyone a great deal of trouble."
"Even I like to take a break every now and then," Taphram countered. "Besides, that wasn't my fault at all. It w
Bio - Thorin
The Northern Blade
■ Human ■ 19-25 ■ Dragonbuster
Harmony Maybe something needed to be different. Shiella thought she was doing a great job with her performances, but she rarely ever got a good turnout. Her audience almost never rose above ten people. She was almost ready to blame it on the people, that they simply couldn't understand such artistic beauty. But she knew that if she adopted that attitude it wouldn't do her any good - getting upset with her potential audience wasn't going to earn her any accolades.
So... what, then? She supposed that if she were going to change anything about the way that she performed, it would be to have a fuller sound. It was possible that the people just weren't interested in a solo lute performance. But where would she ever find more musicians? Not only would they have to meet her standards, they'd have to be willing to work with her. She didn't need someone who would drag down her reputation while it was still in its infancy.
Stalker He'd been stalking her for a long time now. Well, it hadn't been that long, but it felt like an eternity to Taphram. He had to move so slowly, or else she might hear him. It felt like the world was passing him by as he crept along.
Another forever went by, and she finally stopped, tilting her head to regard the scenery all around her. Was this his chance? Maybe, but he knew that if he just came charging out of the bushes, she would be alerted immediately. And she was probably faster than him - unless he allowed his darker self to come out, which he didn't want to do. If that happened, there probably wouldn't be anything left of her.
Achingly slow, he inched out of his hiding place. She was so close to him now. One foot out. Then the other. Then -
Crap. He wasn't sure what was louder, the twig he stepped on, or his own voice as he cursed at it. Either way she heard him, and turned to f
Brains and Brawn Keizen laid out the map on a long, wooden table. "By all accounts, it sounds like there's going to be a lot of them. We need to set out a plan before they get here." He glanced over to his large companion, who gave a slight nod of acknowledgement, but said nothing. As usual. Keizen had never met someone who spoke so infrequently. However, it seemed that the big man was paying attention, so Keizen looked back to the map. "These points here, the ones I've marked in red, are the most likely places that they will come from. When the sun sets these places will be completely obscured with shadow." The psion waited for a moment. He was still getting used to the fact that he wasn't going to get a response to anything.
An hour ago, he'd come here to this mansion. The man who owned it was a collector of rare and expensive things - a hobby Keizen could respect - and everyone knew about it. Including the thugs who had tried to break in a few nights b
Odd Job Most people don't realize that lifting heavy objects with your mind isn't all that different from using your hands. It's just that the muscle strain and excruciating discomfort manifests in a different place. Then again, most people don't know anything about psions at all, so I suppose it would be too much to ask for them to understand that little detail.
Lifting another pile of bricks, I pressed my hand to my forehead. This was one massive headache I wouldn't forget for a long time. Not only was there the strain of lifting all these heavy materials, there was also my frustration with having been roped into doing this in the first place.
And then of course there was the crowd that was gathering to watch me work. That wouldn't have been so bad, except that I was dreading the moment that I finished this menial task - at least one of these people would almost certainly ask me to do something for them. The last thing I
In the Most Unlikely of Ways Shiella couldn't remember the last time she had gotten so wrapped up in her music. It felt like it might have been the most heartfelt, powerful performance of her life. It was as though nothing around her existed. There was only herself and the beautiful notes streaming from her lute.
Of course, everything around her was still there. Maybe she was just blocking out the fact that such a wonderful performance was going to waste. What she wouldn't give to be in a concert hall right now, rather than standing on a street corner playing her heart out for two people. No, hang on - after daring to open her eyes, she realized that there was no one left. So much for that. Well, let them be that way - she was still going to finish her song for her own satisfaction. She wound the song down to its gorgeous conclusion, and then... silence.
She was shocked when applause broke the silence. So there was a fan here! Sh
A Nice Surprise It was like an itch she couldn't scratch. It was almost physically painful. Her fingers would twitch, trying to form chords, but there was nothing to press her fingers against. In this seemingly eternal agony, she almost felt naked.
It had been almost twenty minutes - twenty whole minutes - since Shiella had her lute in her hands. Just the other day, she noticed that it didn't sound as good as it used to. She tuned the strings repeatedly, but despite her best efforts she could never quite get the same sound out of it. Maybe it had to do with how old the instrument was. She remembered many years ago how her older brother once told her that such things happen now and then. "Parts of the lute can get distorted over the years from being in use for so long," he had said. "You may need a professional to set them back into place." Or maybe that wasn't what he said. It was so long ago that she couldn't remember exactly. But she was pretty