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Post by Tristan Knightrhode on Dec 25, 2006 2:41:29 GMT -5
Ah Christmas, a wonderful day. Not. To some-hell, to most- December twenty-fifth was a day to celebrate with family, exchange gifts, and have a general good time. To the hunter, Tristan, it was utterly pointless and a waste of perfectly good money and time. Not only was the six foot-three man an Athiest, but he also had no family that he knew of short of one extremely old Crusnik who kept himself in isolation some where in the Himalayas. He was the only living Crusnik Tristan knew of, and was one of the earliest generations of the race. That alone meant he was well over four hundred years old.
So here Tristan was, walking the snow be ridden streets of Babylos. Next to no one was around aside from those simply getting some of the icey morning air. He'd felt like taking a walk in the cold weather, it had always appealed to him despite his natural element of fire. Igneus was curled up in a shiny black, and partially yellow, ball infront of the fire back at where the pair lived. He was still a lizard and prefered the warmth most of the time.
After a couple of hours of trudging through the snow, Tristan stopped and leaned against the wall of a building. He slowly craned his neck up to look into the, light, falling snow, sun glasses shielding his eyes from the tiny crystals. Metal scraped against stone slightly as the long sword, Shireiutz, was moved across the brick surface un-intentionally. There wasn't much to do this day. Igneus would probably sleep most of the day, no one would be in the training grounds, nothing to do. Nothing but wait until it was over, and every thing resumed.
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Xeryth Varson
Spell Caster
Synsk
The look of a boy best left alone.
Posts: 154
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Post by Xeryth Varson on Dec 25, 2006 2:52:38 GMT -5
Alas, but Tristan was not alone in his lonely journey. Sidling along the streets of Babylos, all by himself was one Xeryth Varson, as well. It had been many a long time since the young boy had been seen anywhere aroudn the Arcane Academy. In fact, the boy had been rather scarce since the last event and the cold battles up North.
Today, Xeryth was bundled up in a dark grey hooded sweatshirt, the hood down and faded black denim jeans, with a black scarf around his face to keep his neck and lower face warm enough. All in all, however, the set of clothes looked rather ragged and worn, as if they were all just a few years too old.
He had kept to himself, mostly, for reasons as-of-yet unknown, but now, here he was, slowly ambling about through the empty streets of Babylos. Everyone else was with their families, warm and happy in their homes, giving gifts and letting the festivities take over for them. This was not the case, apparently, for the two strangers in the streets. Finally, their paths crossed.
Xeryth stopped suddenly, not expecting to see another one outside, and furthermore, not expecting to see someone so large and intimidating. The way he leaned against the wall, his sword scraping the stone below, sent shivers down the young boy's spine that not even the cold could match. Just the man's presence held the boy in paralysis, and Xeryth slowly tried to form words, knowing that the awkwardness would be much worse if he did not at least attempt conversation.
"He-he-hello... you... you aren't en-en-en-joying Chr-Chri-Christ-Christ-Christmas with your... family... or... or friend tonight?" He quickly rushed the last three words out, still mentally cursing himself at his continued inability to hold conversations.
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Post by Tristan Knightrhode on Dec 25, 2006 3:12:00 GMT -5
A voice penetrated memories and empty thoughts. Tristans head slowly angled downward, light shone brightly off of his sunglasses giving the hunter and even furthered intimidating appearance. Once the pivot point of his neck came to a halt, eyes resting on the relatively small boy who was the source of the voice. Tristan contemplated his answer, choosing whether to be revealing or secretive. From a simple 'no' to an indepth story of Tristan's life were the possible answers, but what was spoken was relatively simple.
"I have none." Came the deep, slightly harsh voice with its usual cold tone. His voice was surprisingly unwavering despite the cold, but that was what you got when you teleported all about the world in a profound nothingness of seemingly subzero tempuratures. Snow partially covered the hunter, resting on his shoulder and flaking his hair. It wasn't a heavy enough, or wet enough snow to fully cake his black hair, but it did stick to it. Tristan simply stood there, leaning against the wall.
His sword had stopped its grating as most of Tristan's weight was now steady against it and the brick foundation. Tristan's gauntleted hands simply hung at the sides, he showed no emotion or effort in supporting himself or much of any thing els. Just existing was what Tristan was doing for the past few hours, merely wandering about.
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Xeryth Varson
Spell Caster
Synsk
The look of a boy best left alone.
Posts: 154
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Post by Xeryth Varson on Dec 25, 2006 3:22:16 GMT -5
Upon hearing his answer, Xeryth's eyes fell to gaze upon the ground, as he closed them for a moment. A frown crossed his face as he thought about what he he said, as well as what this new stranger had replied.
I must have angered him. It's not good to make assumptions like that, and then bring up dark memories. I should know... it's not like...
Looking up again suddenly, Xeryth met the much bigger man's shaded gaze with a sudden determined understanding. "I understand fully." The words were all that he said, he left it up to Tristan whether or not to realize that he, himself, was also without family this Christmas, much like all of his Christmases before.
He re-adjusted his sweater and shook the snow from his alrighty-light hair, trying to keep himself warm, considering the old clothes weren't exactly at the top shape of their usefulness, these days. "So... so..." he began, back to his stuttering as usual. "What... are... what are you... going to do with... with your Christmas, then...?"
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Post by Tristan Knightrhode on Dec 25, 2006 3:30:01 GMT -5
Tristan needed no contemplation for this next answer. "Wait it out." Was what was obvious and already in action, or lack there of. The boy's first statement, aside from the initial question, made it obvious that the boy was in a similar predicament. How he'd come to not have a family was what the real question was, only it didn't really matter. When one has lost every thing, what does it matter how it had happened? The mind could to wonderous things, but thinking about how a tragic event had happened gets one to thinking how they could have prevented it, what they could have done different.
All that did was make your head hurt as well as make you feel sorry for your self. And no one should feel sorry for themselves, as at that point you can't move on. The hunter continued staying where he was. His positioning was fine for conversation, and it wasn't like there was some where els to go.
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Xeryth Varson
Spell Caster
Synsk
The look of a boy best left alone.
Posts: 154
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Post by Xeryth Varson on Dec 25, 2006 3:43:45 GMT -5
"But... you... you could... get.. get cold... just waiting there... all day. Maybe it'd be good to... um... y-y-y-y'know... ge-get up and move?"
The corners of Xeryth's mouth twitched up in a meek smile. A joke. Little Xeryth had fought as hard as he could against his overpowering shyness to try and make a joke. Whether it would be received or not by this apparently taciturn man was to be seen, however.
The man was strange. Hard to read. Even for one such as Xeryth, who couldn't help but feel the emotions and surface thoughts of others, this man, Tristan Knightrhode, as it soon came to him, showed very little of either. It was as if he didn't think, nor did he feel. Most recently, however, Xeryth sensed hints of confusion about him, likely in regards to Xeryth himself, and as to why he came up and started conversation. Deciding to bring up the matter in a slightly more subversive approach, Xeryth spoke up again.
"N-n-not a... a... very.... ta-ta-talka-talkative person... are you...? M-m-m-me neither. If...if.... if you couldn't... tell...."
Another meek grin, as Xeryth did his best to not be scared of this incredibly intimidating man.
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Post by Tristan Knightrhode on Dec 25, 2006 4:01:09 GMT -5
Tristan felt the mental probings of the boy. He'd come across psychics before...Iritating to fight they were. It didn't seem intentional, more a natural reading of the surface thoughts, but all the same, the hunter put up mental wards around most of his mind. If the boy really wanted to he could probably force his way in, but not before he'd be lying on the floor in a bloody heap. He mulled over the words a bit before responding, a psychic though the boy was, it didn't take a genius to figure as much about Tristan.
"As for keeping warm. This climate is nothing. As for talkitave, I generally see no need to speak." He answered finally. His voice and tone were more or less the same as previous statements. That was just Tristan's voice unless he actually cared or knew you well. Though taciturn was a good word to describe Tristan, most would simply deem him anti-social and move on. And they wouldn't be too far off.
After the age of six Tristan really didn't bother with people past his father and sensei. Granted, his childhood had been relatively normal compared to what it could have been under certian prospects, he'd still never become one to make conversation. Half the time he didn't give people the time of day outside the training grounds.
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