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Post by Shinigami on Mar 28, 2008 0:23:36 GMT -5
 There was a tiny little shack on the backwaters of Torquehelm where a strange, eccentric old man lived. He was an odd albatross who had long ago forsaken the skies for the depths of musty, dusty old books that would have looked far more appropriate in the depths of a Corvistowne lab. Well, if most of them weren't about the estoric depths of magic, and other such ephemeral things. The deer that wandered through the stacks was an odd sight, black and green and purple, to the point where she mostly looked like a two-color-marked Corvistowneian. Of course, those who knew better knew that the purple came from Torquehelm itself, and that she'd once been marked with wings (okay, so they were lime green, but they were wings) and worn bindings. But that had all changed, because bindings were silly things anyway. Helen was staring fixedly at one of the books that had been spread out on a table before her with a nifty little device for people who didn't have hands to turn the pages with. Her necklaces clinked as she tilted her head thoughtfully from one side, and then to the other, and then turned the page. "Interesting."[/color] |
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Post by The Jenn on Mar 28, 2008 16:04:16 GMT -5
The door to the small building opened and two figures stepped through, a human man and a young bird. The older man was dressed in purple robes, sandals, and had a ridiculous amount of things shoved into the pockets of his coat. His hair was silvery gray, slowly turning white, and his skin was quite pale. He spared a glance for the deer reading not so far away, then turned and went through to the back, knowing exactly where to find what he was looking for. This was a regular haunt for him - he and its owner had assisted one another in research for decades now. Parzifal tucked his wings and looked around, having come because his master felt in need of both traveling company and someone to tend to him when it was time to find shelter for the night. The would go to an inn about an hour's walk away once the man was done looking at what he wanted to, then come back for another day of research before heading home to the Wood. It wasn't a long trip, thankfully. More than anything, the small building was permeated with the smell of age and books. He was older now, about twelve, but a lot of the things his master came to look at were so far above his head that he could only get a few words in before he was lost. At least they weren't alone in this place. |
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Post by Shinigami on Mar 28, 2008 18:54:22 GMT -5
Helen's head lifted as the pair of figures stepped into the building - she'd never seen them before, but she came by this place only infrequently. Maxwell had first introduced her to the owner, because of the fact that he had a few books that had helped him with his toys and models, and then she'd started to visit on her own, when she'd begun her wandering. The old man was given a searching stare, though she seemed far more interested in his robes and the things in his pockets than she really was in him. When he ignored her completely, she proceeded to return the favor, and her attention gradually drifted to the young bird that was standing nearby.
"What hidden secrets have drawn you to this doorway?" she asked, voice turning sing-song as she continued speaking. "Were they calling your name alone, or have you merely stumbled upon their silent footsteps, awakening them in your unknowing clumsiness?" Slowly she shifted from where she'd been standing, bent over the musty tome, and approached him. Leaning in close, she took a deep, considering sniff, as if analyzing his scent and storing it away for future reference. "Or have you no interest in secrets at all, and thus deafen yourself to their cries?"
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Post by The Jenn on Apr 5, 2008 15:36:16 GMT -5
Parzifal's attention had started to wander around the relatively small but incredibly crowded space when the other occupant - the only person that he could see in the front of the room, at least - addressed him in a strange voice. His red eyes snapped back to her in surprise at being spoken to, regardless of what she was saying... which seemed rather strange and obscure to him.
And then she stood up in a slow-motion movement and approached him to... sniff. He blinked slowly, trying to make sense of what she was saying. It almost seemed like gibberish, but one or two of the people his master occasionally made contact with spoke in vaguely similar fashions. Not the same, but similar. He could work with this. Maybe? Having her invade his personal space so quickly was unnerving, but he would overlook it. He didn't know who this person was and she might be important to this place, or to what his master was doing, or... he wasn't sure. But that was the point.
He was pretty sure he didn't want to take anything she'd just said literally. "My master's secrets brought me hear, that and his research. May I ask your name?" And what kind of game you're playing? That, of course, wasn't spoken aloud.
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Post by Shinigami on Apr 14, 2008 23:52:48 GMT -5
"So you listen for the secrets of others, do you?" she murmured to herself, eying the young bird before nodding once, as if in confirmation of something. His master was a researcher then? The doe turned her head back toward the book she'd been reading, stepping away from him so that a clear area stood between deer, bird, and book, almost as if she were including it in their conversation.
"Do you steal whispers of your own, tucking them away deep inside of yourself to cherish, like fireflies?" she asked, apparently ignoring his question for the time being. Helen had something far more important she wanted to find out, because those who weren't noticed often noticed the most. What dreams could this little one be hiding?
Though...maybe granting him her name wouldn't be such a problem.
"I am often called Helen, though the keeper of this place addresses me as Cassandra from time to time, because of what I research." Cassandra, the seer. Wasn't she to have seen the downfall that Helen of Troy would bring? It was something she'd read in one of these books, or in some other, about a world where a war had been fought over a single beautiful woman.
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Post by The Jenn on Apr 15, 2008 9:28:46 GMT -5
Parzifal didn't notice the fact that the book had been 'included' in their conversation, just glad to have a little more space between his body and that of the strange deer. He didn't mind talking with crazier people, but he did tend to get twitchy when they got in his face. After that one time where the man suddenly grabbed hold of his bindings and refused to let go until his master offered the man cake, he thought the leeriness was somewhat justified.
All the talk of stealing secrets and whispers was a little above his head, as was the myth of Cassandra. Maybe she did research that involved delving into peoples' minds? His master had mentioned Sage's grandparents doing that once, when he had thought to ask about their family. Creepy stuff, but also fascinating.
"Well then, I guess I should call you... Helen? Or Cassandra, since you're doing research?" He wasn't sure if her mentioning it was a hint or just some random tidbit thrown into the conversation. Regardless. "I'm Parzifal. I tend to keep my secrets to myself, though. I don't know about anyone else's. Maybe my siblings'."
And he'd only just let his eyes glance down to her rank. A- a Four? Of Diamonds? He instantly felt a flood of relief. He wasn't talking to a higher-up who could order his master to do something because he'd offended them. That was certainly a relief. He still had to worry about potential secret-gathering, though. If she could dig into his head then there was a potential problem too.
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Post by Shinigami on Apr 15, 2008 16:06:13 GMT -5
She tilted her head to the other side, contemplating the question. "Cassandra was a prophetess cursed to never be believed. Helen was a woman whose beauty launched a war," she explained, and then added, "I am a deer who dreams of the future but cannot yet see it. What say you?"
Her attention returned to the book, and she gestured him toward it with a tilt of her head.
"In all of the dreams you have dreamed, have you ever thought of what could happen if one were to see the possibilities, and know how to act upon them? To prevent them, to ensure them, to keep them from ever being a possibility in the first place." The book was a worn, aged volume on different ways of seeing and predicting the future. Actually, all of the books near where she'd been were on the same topic, and that book in particular dealt with those few people who had the innate gift of prophecy.
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Post by The Jenn on Apr 16, 2008 22:00:30 GMT -5
Listening to this woman speak was sort of like trying to work his mind around the Hisstor poetry his Master happened to have lying around one day. None of it made any sense to him at the time (he'd been nine) and even so he'd thought it was pretty when he read it out loud. The poetry and this deer were a lot alike, except she could do the reading and he could just listen.
"How about I call you Helen, then?" he said after a moment's consideration. That was a lot easier for him to wrap his tongue around. She was kind to have avoided mentioning the speech impediment before. Then again, with how strangely she spoke, he wondered if she even noticed it.
She was too busy trying to see... the future? "I dunno. I'd kind of rather make my own future. I don't know what comes next and that's sort of the point, isn't it? If I knew where I was going and didn't like it, why go there? I'd rather have a reason. There are some things I just wouldn't want to see unless I could change them."
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Post by Shinigami on Jul 22, 2008 9:06:55 GMT -5
"It is the name my parents granted me with, so it shall do," she said airily - and no, she hadn't really noticed the speech impediment, or at least hadn't noted it. Considering the people that she spent time around, it wasn't particularly remarkable. There had been one person who spoke entirely in haiku; that had been entertaining.
"And how do you know that you could not change them? Glimpse the possibilities as they exist now, in this instant, as things stand, and then find ways to alter the circumstances until the future resembles more of what you wish?" She gestured toward the book once more. "There are those who merely viewed the future and did nothing to alter it. Then there are those who destroyed themselves in attempts to bring it to a more fruitious state, despite knowing that they would die. They are the unsung heros, or maybe villains who caused their own downfall. Such a curse as Cassandra's is not unknown, either - the ability to see the future and never be believed when she spoke of it. I would do my best to avoid such a curse, I think."
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Post by The Jenn on Jul 22, 2008 11:03:25 GMT -5
Parzifal listened to her speak, making appropriate 'listening' noises even as he tried to muddle through some of what she was saying. According to her, the future wasn't a 'set' thing? She could learn about seeing it and changing what she saw? People could... do that?
"But if nothing's written in stone, like you're hinting at, then why would people who do something to change it die even though they saw their death? Or are they not trying to change that and trying to change something else, and that's just a consequence?" The philosophy was confusing, but he found it fascinating. He'd never talked to anyone about anything like this before. The subject had never even come up with his siblings, and their master wasn't much on philosophical conversations with servants, even though he deigned to show them a thing or two about magic every so often.
She was well-read on this subject, though, or seemed to be. She wouldn't be visiting this particular residence if she wasn't a researcher of some sort. From how passionately she spoke about it, he guessed it was her main focus. "So if you see the future in your dreams, but you can't see it when you wake up, is that what you're after?"
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