Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
World News


Forgotten: No one can escape. A great flash emerged above all of Aronia leaving each with short term memory loss. Years lost to the fog of amnesia. Can no one recall? That appears to be the case. Whom or what is responsible? Panic has stricken the globe. Will civilization collapse? What will emerge from the reset? Only time will tell. To each citizen of Aronia from the Global Gazette, we wish all luck.
Welcome to Aronia. We hope you enjoy your visit.


You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.


Join our community!


If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:

Username:   Password:
Photobucket
  • Pages:
  • 1
  • 3
Weatherby's Wonderful Weather Wonders!
Topic Started: Jul 27 2006, 01:16 AM (970 Views)
Davyn
Member Avatar
whippersnapper
Members
(( OOC: Okay, well here goes nothing. I hope you don't mind me posting this here. It's not actually IN Marsotp, but this is as close as I could find to the setting I was looking for. That being a human-populated country in a rural farm-type setting with smaller communities built up around farms and agriculture. Thus, the names of the settlements in here will be made up for the time being. Also, if it turns out this is not the greatest place for this sort of setting, just move it somewhere else I guess. But let me know where! ))

Once upon a time in the kingdom of Lue---No, wait, that doesn't sound right. Let's try again. A long time ago in a continent far, far...No, that's not right either. Ahem. One more time. Far beyond the great mountains and across the rolling plains of...of...oh, what was that place called? Ah, screw it! Perhaps storytelling is not the best way to tell this particular story. But then one would have to ask oneself: "Self...how am I going to tell a story without it being a story?" And that would be a very good question. So good, in fact, that the answer goes mostly unknown and is irrelevant to this tale. Sort of. Well enough rambling! Perhaps it would be best to start in the present and move backwards. Yes, that usually works. So without further ado, we'll just jump right in!

"No, no, Mr. Topperbum! You have to keep your hands up so that---Yes, like that! There you go! Keep it up! Wiggle your hips a bit more. Yes, good, good...No, watch out for that---!!!" KRASSSH!!! Buh-GAWK!! "...bucket of chicken feed..."

Flynn Weatherby sighed and put a hand over his face at the sight. The poor old fool of a farmer had just tripped over, scattering chicken feed and falling on his rear in the hog trough. Shrugging, Flynn wanders over to where the man was "soaking" and extends a hand, helping Farmer Topperbum back to his feet. The man's umbrella hat had slipped down and was covering his eyes. Topperbum flailed about, groping blindly.

"Gah! Whar'd ya go, boy? I can't see nuffin! I've gone BLIND! I can't---!" WHACK! Farmer Topperbum's face had just found the handle of a rake.

"Some real winners in these parts," Flynn mumbles under his breath, moving over and tossing the rake aside. He pulls up the man's umbrella hat and places it delicately back on his balding crown.

"Whassat, lad? I din quite catch that."

"I said I'll bet that really smarts!"

"Wha...Oh, that? Nah! A lil pain ain't nothin' compared to this dad-blasted drought we been havin'! I'd do anything fer a bit 'a rain right about now!"

Anything indeed, Flynn thought with a wry smile. This was definitely one of his more clever plots. Or perhaps the word was "cleverer". No, that didn't sound right. No matter. For the past week or so, Flynn had been wandering about what he referred to as the "armpits of Luestrife", peddling his latest product: Weatherby's Wonderful Weather Wonders! You see, the farmers in these rural communities were in the midst of a serious crisis. A drought that had lasted for several months now. With harvest season coming up soon, they were more than a little worried. And more than a little desperate! That was where Flynn came in.

Flynn Weatherby was, by profession, a self-proclaimed con man. Or, as he put it in his own words, "Con-Artiste!" At only nineteen years of age, Flynn had swindled over entire towns in some of his more daring escapades and gained a certain notoriety. Indeed, Weatherby was a wanted man. OFFICIALLY there were no specific laws pertaining to lying. Not in the manner he did it. Or at least, he thought with a grin, he had CONVINCED the local authorities that there were none! Maybe there was something about it in a sub-section of a sub-section of some ancient code of morality, blah, blah, blah, somewhere in Endymion. But here in Luestrife? Pfft! No one gave a rat's rear end. That is...until THEY got screwed over. Then it didn't matter if there was a law governing it or not. Bounty hunting was an increasingly popular sport these days. Flynn had never really cared much for sports...

Flynn had grown up as many a fine, honest, strappling young lad had. On a farm. Perhaps that was why he took such pleasure in taking these yokels' money from under their noses! Every day, Flynn's father would come home from the fields smelling of hay and manure. Every day, his mother would be up before the crack of dawn to milk the cows, feed the chickens, and so on and so forth. And of course, Flynn was expected to do his own part to "help out around the farm." Flynn hated it. He hated busting his rear end day in and day out just to scrape together enough to live off of. When he went to school (his parents sent him for three years before it "became too much effort") or to town, he would see other boys with better clothes, better lunches, better EVERYTHING because they had more money. And what did their parents do for a living? Oh...they were lawyers, moneylenders, government officials, etc. Basically they did nothing. They flaunted their riches and sat on their keisters all day. Back then, Flynn had wished nothing more than to BE one of those spoiled rich kids. Then he had thought it would be even better if the spoiled rich kids got THEIR money taken away from them. Oh...to have justice served!

Such thinking had led Flynn to the decision to start a life of crime. He would head off to one of the big cities---Marsotp, perhaps---and join a theives' guild! Or perhaps he would keep to his rural upbringing and become a bandit! Hiding out in the woods and pillaging caravans that passed through! A glorious thought! At fifteen, he had run away from home, leaving only a small note to his parents saying that he was "out to find his fortune in the wide, wide, world" and that he probably wouldn't be home in time for supper. However, Flynn soon found that the life of a criminal was extremely troublesome and far too risky to be, well, worth the risk. Eventually, he figured out that it would be MUCH more profitable to simply have people GIVE him their money willingly! And that was how Flynn came to be where and what he was today...

Flynn grins at old man Topperbum, "Don't you worry, sir! You keep practicing on that dance of yours and it'll be pouring down absolute BUCKETS of water on your crops!" As part of this particular scheme, Flynn was selling cheap umbrella hats for about three times their net value. In fact, he himself was wearing one at the moment. It looked ridiculous, he knew it did, but it was a small price to pay considering how rich he was becoming! He tips his umbrella hat to the gullible farmer, then starts to make his way back to the dirt highway.

"Whee-hee!! Haha! Yer a plum miracle, boy! What'd ya say yer name was again?"

"Gregory. Gregory Jackson, sir!" Flynn swung a leg up and over his three-wheeled "peddler-mobile". Basically a large tricycle with two wheels in the front and one in the back. There was a large storage area in the front where he kept most of the knicknaks and doo-dads for his schemes. Flags, streamers, stickers, and even a few pinwheels adorned this contraption. It was ridiculous, but it was cheaper than a horse, faster than an ox, and more reliable than a pack mule. Probably smarter, too.

"GODDESS BLESS YA, GREGORY JACKSON!!! Wa-HOOO!!!"

Yup. Certified nutball. Well, like the saying went...the more gullible they are, the harder they...um...well, you get the picture. Maybe the heat was finally getting to old man Topperbum. Flynn didn't know and didn't care. He gives another tip of his umbrella had, then pushes off on his cart. He smiles to himself as the crazy farmer grows smaller in the distance. What suckers. The man had bought the whole "rain dance" bit. He had even bought the "miracle fertilzer"! The small, blue pills were hardly for plants. Flynn had purchased them in Marsotp a while back from a strange green-haired man. As it turned out, they were pills for erectile dysfunction. Flynn had discovered this by feeding one to a stray dog and observing it for several hours. Needless to say, everyone who passed by the street that day got some lovin'. Doggy style! If old man Topperbum's corn ever DID come in somehow, no doubt it would grow tall and straight!

"Ey! Ey, you there! Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"Hm?" Flynn stops his peddler-mobile and snaps out of his recollections. A tall, thin fellow was ambling down the dirt road going the opposite direction and shaking a finger at him. "I'm...sorry, sir. I'm a traveling salesman. I see many people everyday. You'll forgive me if I don't quite recall your face..."

"Hmm...yeah! YEAH! I know you, ya limey lil blighter! Yer that Thomas Reed character that was sellin' the dehydrated water several months back in Riverstone!"

Uh-oh. This was not good. "I'm sorry, sir. You must have me confused with someone else."

"No ya don't! Nope! No foolin' me, mate! It was YOU, I knows it! I'd recognize this pile-o-rust anyday!" The man kicked the front tire of Flynn's transportation lightly. A spoke snapped.

Flynn got off of his cart, frowning at the damage, then looked back up at the man, "My dear sir! Am I to understand that some OTHER fellow has a vehicle like mine! I'm quite flattered, honestly. And I can see that you think you've been somehow 'swindled' by this other---"

"Twasn't some other fellow, ya twit! I'm tellin ya, I knows it was you an' I want me money back!"

"Calm down, calm down...I believe I can prove to you that I am indeed innocent of this horrific crime!"

"Oh yeah?" The man raised a dirty eyebrow and watched as Flynn opened the pack at the front of his cart and began rummaging around inside of it. Flynn finally comes up, holding what appeared to be a small, rusty telescope.

"This," Flynn says, "Is the Eye of Shathriss! This amazing device is enchanted with a very, VERY unique and useful ability!" He pauses for dramatic effect, seeing that the man before him was swayed by the big words. "Yes...this seemingly ordinary scope can tell you if someone is your friend...or foe!" He hands out the telescope to the man, "Would you like to try?"

The man hesitates, then takes the scope, putting it up to his eye and peering through it at Flynn. Apparently it didn't even work as a telescope. All the man saw was Flynn's face...not even magnified in the slightest. He frowns, then removes the telescope from his eye, "It don't work! All I saw was you!"

"Ah, but it DID work! This proves that I am your friend and I'm telling the truth!"

"It does?"

"Sure it does! If I were your foe, the lens would have been clouded and you wouldn't have been able to see a thing. The Eye of Shathriss can detect such things with ease!"

The man seems to ponder this, scratching his head and looking at the small device in his hand. He looks up at Flynn with a strained look on his face, "Hm...I dunno, mate. Issis for real?"

Flynn grins, "It can be...for a price, of course. How much are you willing to pay for such a unique and useful device, my friend?"

"Hm...well...I lost most of me money on dehydrated water..." The man frowns, considering, "...but I'd do almost anything to catch that Thomas Reed! I'll give ya fifteen Leaves for it!"

"My friend, I think we have a deal!" Flynn's grin grows even wider as the gullible lout digs in his pockets for the spare change. Once the transaction was made, the man smiles, then bows courteously, continuing on his way. Flynn watches him for a while before climbing back onto his peddler-mobile. Curses! That man had recognized him in one of his disguises! Riverstone was over twenty miles away! What was that hick doing out here?! Oh well...he'd just have to be more careful from now on. As he pushes off once more, pumping the pedals, he chuckles lightly to himself. The prank telescope was actually worth less than one Leaf...but the shiner on the man's face as he had walked away...now that was priceless!

(( Oh, that was fun! I chuckle to read it. Hope to see some others join soon! ))
Blizzard Exec #1: I don't have a World of Warcraft account! Do you?
Blizzard Exec #2: No...*sigh* I have a life.
Randy Marsh: Give me the sword! I have a Warcraft account. I'm a newb, but I may be able to get it to Stan in time.
Blizzard Exec #1: A newb! We can't trust the Sword of A Thousand Truths to a newb!
Randy Marsh: It sounds to me like you have no choice!
--South Park
Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket
 
armon

Members
There she was, the buxom beast, grazing so tenderly. Armon slowly approached the mamoth mare, her silky coat glistening in the sun.

"How you doin?," He cooed to the animal, running his hand tenderly over its hind quarters as far as he could reach. It would be like throwing a hot dog down a hallway, but that was just fine. The sound of a raised voice startled the mare and she looked at armon with suspicion and then in the direction of the noise, plodding the ground with a hoof. Grumbling, armon walked away from the beast. It was no fun when they were anxious. Made them kick. Being red, Armon was suffering from a case of purple balls. To take his mind away from the tension, he decided to find out who had ruined his fun. Walking until he reached the dirt road, Armon looked to the right and saw nothing. He then looked to the left to notice two men, one looking through some long tube. Their voices carried and he caught snippets of the conversation. eye of shathriss? He must be thinking eye of sherbert and if he had one of those we'd all be having a lot more fun. Armon watched the man with the strange vehicle settle the squabble and continue his route in the direction of the little red imp. The man had actually paid for the wanna be sherbert. Armon chuckled to himself and stuck out his thumb. He wanted to see for himself what the man was all about. The craft itself looked like fun. Definately Armon's style.
Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket
 
Davyn
Member Avatar
whippersnapper
Members
Flynn was still chuckling lightly to himself, relishing the sight of the man's blackened eye in his mind as he pedaled lazily along the dirt road. The chain was clanking a bit, the wheels were squeaking, and the pinwheels twirled rapidly as he rode. It was a bumpy ride, what with all the rocks strewn about here and there, but he had grown used to it. Besides...if anything, he was building up his leg muscles significantly from all this traveling. That would come in handy later on when he was being chased by mobs with pitchforks and the like. Boy, it sure was hot out. It was just after noon and the sun was mocking him, high in the sky. Well...at least the ridiculous umbrella hat he was wearing was providing an ample amount of shade for him! Flynn throws his burgundy cloak back over his shoulder. The tunic he wore beneath was the exact same color. The material was lightweight enough, but he was still sweating like a dog. And that, of course, led him to thinking when was the last time he had actually SEEN a dog sweat? Hmm, Flynn thinks, well, I've never actually seen one SWEAT, but then there are the WET ones and those smell just plain nasty. Speaking of nasty, did I remember to put on deodorant this mo---Oh, a little red man! How nice. What was I thinking about again? Oh yes. Deodorant. Well, I might have something in the---

Flynn Weatherby squeezes the handlebar brakes to his peddler-mobile. The contraption comes to such an abrupt halt that the weight in the front causes it to simply tip forward, taking Flynn with it! "Oompf! Gah!" He tumbles head over heel, scraping his palms on the gravel before coming to a halt some three feet away from his cart. With his cloak draped unceremoniously over his head, Flynn fumbles about, finally straightening out his clothes, then looking around for his overly-large circular spectacles. Flynn had perfect vision, of course. The glasses were merely for the "intellectual" look. In fact, they made him look like a nerd, but he relished the thought. The more people who thought him to be the wise, studious type, the better! Finding the lenses lying in the dirt, Flynn puts them back on, shoving them up onto the bridge of his nose. He carefully clambers to his feet, brushing the dust from his clothes. Several items had fallen out of the pack on his cart, so he makes himself busy gathering them all up. Righting his peddler-mobile, he shoves his wares back in, then glances back down the road.

There it was. Smiling at him like an idiot with its thumb stuck out in the familiar hitchiker fashion. A large sausage appeared to be...Oh, no...Oh, for Goddess' sake! A naked red midget with horns! Of course, it wasn't the horns that disturbed Flynn the most. Whose garden did THIS guy go digging around in to find the "miracle fertilizer"? Despicable! Flynn blinks at the little devil for several moments, then sighs, looking down and rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. He mutters to himself, "I have GOT to get out of this sun..." If memory served him right, the road took a bend a few more miles ahead and entered a forested region for a while. Maybe he would stop there and have some lunch. Yeah. That would be nice. Help to clear his head. Flynn looks back at the little demon and grins. As long as he was going loopy he might as well have some fun with it, right?

"Oh, I'm TERRIBLY sorry, Mr. Hallucination! I know it's hot as Hell out here, but I'm afraid you've lost your way! You need to head further south, if you know what I mean..." Flynn waits several moments, but it didn't look like the imp planned on going anywhere, "Erm...see here, you horny little thing---and I mean that in the most literal sense of the word---There's only one seat on this here contraption and you'll have to forgive me if I object to you sitting behind me with that...that...well, you get the idea. Now shoo before I find some aspirin and make you disappear!"

Flynn laughs, shaking his head, then swings a leg over his peddler-mobile once more, preparing to shove off down the road.
Blizzard Exec #1: I don't have a World of Warcraft account! Do you?
Blizzard Exec #2: No...*sigh* I have a life.
Randy Marsh: Give me the sword! I have a Warcraft account. I'm a newb, but I may be able to get it to Stan in time.
Blizzard Exec #1: A newb! We can't trust the Sword of A Thousand Truths to a newb!
Randy Marsh: It sounds to me like you have no choice!
--South Park
Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket
 
LadySabre
Member Avatar
Elder
Co-Admin
“Oh no you didn’t!”

“You don’t believe me?”

“No, not really.”

“Well, I totally did. Samerilin was stumped for a whole week!”

“Niiiiiice….”

A loud scream from the other side of the haystack they were sitting next to caught the attention of the pair of chattering girls. Mayhem, the girl in a white robe with blonde hair that cascaded down to just above her hips, gripped her white oak staff tightly between her hands.

“What the….?”

Chaos, the girl in a black skirt with a sleeve-less, fiery red tunic and ebony hair that fell to just past her shoulders, was laughing at her best friend. “Scared of a happy hick?” she asked Mayhem, using her blackened staff to keep herself balanced as she doubled over with laughter. It was quite obvious that the staff hadn’t ALWAYS been blackened, as some parts still held bits of the cherry red hue of the original wood. “Come on. I wanna see what’s got this guy so excited,” she chuckled, nudging Mayhem with her elbow as she made to her feet and around the haystack.

Scanning the road and farm ahead of her with hazel eyes, she couldn’t help but snicker at what she saw.

“What is that thing?” Mayhem asked as she emerged from around the haystack, her sky blue eyes resting on the tricycle sitting there and the young man loading himself onto it.

“Dunno, but it sure is a one-of-a-kind, don’t ya think?”

“You can say that again…” Mayhem shook her head and chuckled.

The pair watched as the man began to pedal (or was it peddle?) away from the farm, grins on both of their faces. Never had they seen anything like this, except perhaps at Barnum and Bailey’s… Nudging her friend in the ribs again (which gained a slightly annoyed look from Mayhem), Chaos motioned for them to follow. Perhaps this young lad could lead them to some amusement for the day. Farms were not the most intriguing things they’d seen thus far on their journey after all.

Chaos’ theory (generally, these ended in bad things) proved right (and not painful) this time as a farmer seemed to recognize the pedal/peddler. Not a good thing it seemed in this poor lad’s case. Oh, but he was good…

Smirking at the proceedings, Chaos’ eyes lit up as she turned to her best friend. They both seemed to have the same idea – follow this guy and humor will ensue! Nodding politely to the farmer as he walked off contently with his “Eye of Shathriss”, the girls had to try hard to hide their giggles from him. When he put the telescope up to his eye to inspect the girls, they had to focus very, very hard on keeping their pleasant smiles on their faces. As soon as he was out of ear shot, they let their laughter escape, quietly at first, of course.

Following the pedal/peddler a bit farther ended in his meeting a… what? An imp? A horny one at that! This time, Chaos was on the receiving end of a nudge to the ribs and she grunted, trying to stifle a snicker. Perhaps that was why Mayhem had nudged her, knowing what reaction Chaos would have to seeing such a, well, happy little guy.

“No comments,” May mumbled, but it was obvious from the quiver in her voice that she was holding back her own. Chaos grinned and looked to her friend.

“When did I become the loud mouth, Shorty?”

“Oh shut up, Juvie.” This was a nickname Mayhem had come up with (or at least tried to create) for Chaos. It was short for ‘juvenile’, of course, as that was generally the only way to beat Chaos in a battle of who was better and why. Curse her for not being vertically challenged like herself! Not that she was short. Really, the two girls were a bit on the tall side for their age where they came from. That didn’t deter Chaos from making fun of Mayhem due to their height difference.

Returning their gaze to the man, the girls finally realize that the man’s been thrown from his tricycle. They’d been distracted by the imp, though, so scrambled forward to help the man up a bit too late… Okay, a lot too late, as he was already back on top of his bike.

“Err…” Chaos tried, failing miserably at trying to start a conversation.

“Sorry about not getting to you in time,” Mayhem said, making herself look less the fool than her partner in crime. “Saw you fall, but we got… err… distracted…” Her eyes wandered to the imp. She assumed he would understand.
Wash: I think they really captured his essence.
Kaylee: He looks kinda mean.
Wash: That's sorta what I meant.
Simon: This must be what going mad feels like.
Kaylee: Everywhere I go, his eyes keep followin' me...
Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket
 
armon

Members
Armon rocked himself from side to side in anticipation as the man rode closer, grinning when the man noticed him. Watching as he clumsily fell out of his own mobile, Armon doubled over laughing, holding his pot belly and kicking his feet in the air. When the man reached him and spoke, Armon got control of himself and sat up.

"The name's Armon by the way, I don't know who Mr. Hallucination is but you got us wrong," His eye brows wiggled as Armon watched the two females approach.

"And I have my own means of transportation, so don't worry," Armon grinnned and looked down, "I know it can be a little intimidating, but it's gonna take a lot more than aspirin to make ME go away!" When the girls were finally in reach, Armon kept quiet as they spoke. The two sure were cute though, which didn't help his situation at all. When their gaze fell on him, Armon bounced up and down a bit on the balls of his feet.

"And that's just jello, ladies," He winked suggestively and nodded. Taking his hands, he covered his groin area and with a popping sound moved them away and it was all clear.

"So, what are two gorgeous women doing out here all by themselves? Need some company?" Armon pointed from himself to the man and back a few times with a smile.
Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket
 
Davyn
Member Avatar
whippersnapper
Members
Now any normal person, when dealing with this sort of situation, would probably start looking around for the nearest straight jacket and the nice young men in white coats. And as you can see, this is exactly what our unstrung hero was thinking. Of course...calling Flynn Weatherby a "hero" at this point in the story is more than a little presumptuous, but let's just ignore that for now and work with what we have, hm? Fortunately, Flynn did not consider himself to be quite normal. After all, normalcy was drab. He knew he was a bit eccentric, but so far this had played to his advantage. Why did little red men have to be showing up in the middle of nowhere NOW? Oh well. If the pretty girls came with the package, he might be able to deal with it! Still...the little red...thing...brought up a good point. What WERE they doing out here? Flynn himself found his reason quite justifiable. And the imp could still be a lying hallucination. Those kinds were the worse. But the girls? Oh wait...they had seen the devil-thing, too. Maybe they were ALL hallucinations!

"More than aspirin, huh?" Flynn mumbles under his breath, "Note to self: stop at local pharmacy." He had, of course, halted his progress once more at the sight of the two girls.

Flynn wondered vaguely what the little imp's method of transportation was. Armon, was it? Great. Now they were giving themselves names. A demon with a disappearing pecker. Perfect. And it had laughed at him. Flynn takes a moment to consider the options. One, he was going crazy due to the heat. If that were the case, then these other three were all figments of his imagination. Too bad. The girls didn't appear to be much older than him. Ah well. Flynn had never let a pretty skirt sway his main goals in life and he wasn't about to start now. Some locals even thought he was a eunic! A preposterous notion, but Flynn didn't mind. Eunics tended to be more docile. The second option---and the more disturbing of the two---was that he was not hallucinating at all and that the girls and the demon were actually real. If that were the case, he could only cross his fingers and pray that they didn't recognize him and weren't intending on following him. Oh, Goddess, that was the LAST thing he needed! Well...as the saying went: When life throws you a curve-ball, make lemonade! Or something like that.

Flynn clears his throat, then hops back off of his peddler-mobile, sauntering over to stand next to the pint-sized imp. "I...appreciate your concern for my well-being, ladies, really I do! But as you can see, I'm quite fine. Nary a scratch on me!" He spreads his arms wide, showing that he was, indeed, no worse for the wear. "Allow me to introduce myself..." With that, he takes a bold step closer to the blonde who had addressed him, taking her hand lightly in his own and kissing it briefly. He then releases her hand and bows low, removing his umbrella hat in a sweeping, theatrical gesture, "I am Theodore Wilkins, a humble traveling merchant. If I don't have what you're looking for...then you don't need it!"

Flynn grins at the two girls. Oddly dressed for these parts, he would say. Better than no clothing at all, though, he thought with a disdainful glance at the devil near his feet. Wait, what was he thinking! Two naked girls on a dirt road? Scratch the imp...that would be perfect! Still...that would be even more suspicous than this "chance meeting" he was having now. If there was one trait that had saved Flynn from embarrassing and sometimes life-threatening situations in the past, it was his inherent suspiciousness. Both of the girls were taller than him; he only came up to 5"4. Short, he supposed, but he never really let it bug him. Both were also pretty and the blonde had addressed him. More suspicious characteristics. Farm girls tended to be dumpy and blondes, though willing to do just about anything, were usually just giggly airheads. But there were a few exceptions. Himself, for example...

Flynn continues, "I assume that you two can also see this...erm...thing that distracted me a moment ago. Positively horrid, I know, but he DOES bring up a good point. Your garb is not like those of the farm girls I've met around here. Perhaps you are travelers as well? Dancers?" He raises a brow. That last part was too much to hope for, he knew, but what the hey? Might as well ask.
Blizzard Exec #1: I don't have a World of Warcraft account! Do you?
Blizzard Exec #2: No...*sigh* I have a life.
Randy Marsh: Give me the sword! I have a Warcraft account. I'm a newb, but I may be able to get it to Stan in time.
Blizzard Exec #1: A newb! We can't trust the Sword of A Thousand Truths to a newb!
Randy Marsh: It sounds to me like you have no choice!
--South Park
Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket
 
LadySabre
Member Avatar
Elder
Co-Admin
"Jell-O... Haven't had that in years. I could definitely go for some right about now - fresh out of the fridge with mandarin or banana slices in it..." May rambled, her voice trailing off as she began daydreaming about, well, Jell-O.

"Just walkin'," Chaos answered the imp, as her friend was currently smiling dreamily at something only her mind's eye could see. Perhaps her normal eyes could see it as well, but Chaos decided it was best to leave her be for a moment.

Both girls redirected their eyes to the form of the young man as he spoke up, reassuring them that he was okay. May smiles as he steps forward, taking her hand and kissing the top of it. A light pink flushed her cheeks as she nodded politely to him as she and Chaos had been taught back at Rumsfeld Hold. Chaos rolled her eyes some. Always the flirt, May was.

"It's very nice to meet you, Sir... Wilkins. I don't believe we are in need of anything -"

"- especially an Eye of Sharthis-what's-it-called -" Chaos mumbled under her breath with a light chuckle.

"- but I thank you for your offer."

"WE thank you," Chaos chimed up. "And you wouldn't happen to have a map of Luestrife, would you? I'm afraid this one," she pointed her thumb at Mayhem, "lost the map about a week ago."

"I did not you lout!"

"Right. So, can you help a pair of wandering girls? We're trying to find interesting places. You're right that we're not from here. And yes, we can see him. But no, we're not dancers. Well, that's not to say we can't dance. It's just not what we do... as a profession." It was quite obvious, she was getting slightly tongue-twisted and confused. Had she answered all of his questions? Surely she had. Perhaps May could help her out.

"We're from a ways north... a small Hold in the middle of, well, nowhere to be honest. Not that it's a bad place," she quickly defended.

"There's just not much to do is all."

"So, here we are - in search of famous landmarks, places, people, whatever! to see and meet. Surely a traveling salesman like yourself would know of interesting places or people..." May cooed, smiling in that cute way she did when she wanted a boy to notice her. It was the smile that had enticed half the school back in Kent... probably more, but Chaos really hadn't been counting back then. Knowing May, though, SHE had!
Wash: I think they really captured his essence.
Kaylee: He looks kinda mean.
Wash: That's sorta what I meant.
Simon: This must be what going mad feels like.
Kaylee: Everywhere I go, his eyes keep followin' me...
Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket
 
armon

Members
Fluidly on his little neck, Armon turned his head to look at the man who called himself Theodore this time.

"Horrid?" He appeared rather pissed off but then suddenly grinned, "Aww shucks," He scuffed the dirt and looked shyly to his feet. Hearing the females respon, he immediately look up at the two goreous creatures. Hell, they were the best looking broads he'd seen in a long time. The pastures they just, well, it was slim pickings. Armon watched the man shmooze the girl just by kissing her hand. If it made her blush at that, Armon would have her the color of himself when he was done with her. Hearing the other girl's remark and chuckle, Armon had to grin himself. She was his kind of girl. Put them both together and you get an Armon sandwich. Watching the two girls argue amongst themselves only proved their fiestiness. Armon shook his head slightly, relishing it. Walking up to the girls, Armon let a little stink nugget release as he passed 'theodore' and it would have the smell of a dead corpse baking in the noon day sun, but linger there for the women to be spared the putrid scent.

"Ladies, you are in luck today. I just happen to be the best road side assistance," Armon turned around to grin at Theodore and wag his eyebrows. By this time, the smell should have made him want to tear his nose from his face, "So, Mr. Willie Nelson, have you a map?"
Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket
 
Davyn
Member Avatar
whippersnapper
Members
Flynn's facial expression was indeed quite distorted upon catching wind of the "wonderful present" that the imp had left behind. Having been raised on a farm, he was actually quite tolerant of unusual and disgusting smells. Baking corpses, however, were not usually encountered on a farm. Well...unless you came upon a homicidal maniac or a REALLY dysfunctional family! Either way, the smell was unpleasant and Flynn didn't appreciate it. In fact, he didn't really appreciate the presence of this little red nuisance at all. Roadside assistance his rear end...Flynn was willing to bet that the pipsqueak couldn't even tell a lugnut from his left nut. And now he was asking for a map? Genius. Well...first to do something about that awful aroma!

Flynn crinkles his nose and coughs lightly, "The name is Wilkins, fiend. And if you'll wait one moment, I believe I have something for you." He grins mischieviously, then walks over to his peddler-mobile, opening the compartment in the front that contained all of his wares. Reaching into a smaller pocket within the sack, he finally produces a small, cylindrical canister. It was lilac blue and appeared to be metallic. It was, in fact, an aerosol spray can with "Potpourri" scrawled in flowery text along the side. Such devices were uncommon in the world, especially parts like this. Still, Flynn dealt with rare "artifacts" and had acquired this canister from one of his shadier contacts in Marsotp several months back. He'd never really had any practical use for it. Perhaps if he had several dozen of them he could implement them in some clever get-rich-quick scheme, but one alone was of little use. Until now. He shakes the canister, flips it casually in the air, catches it in the opposite hand, and pops the plastic top off. All of this was done in one graceful, fluid motion. He grins. Then he sprays.

"Ahh!" Flynn exclaims, taking a whiff of the powerful, chemical-sweet smell of the spray. It actually made his eyes water a bit at such close proximity, but he would never show it, "Much better! Now...what were we talking about again?" He had aimed the spray at Armon. Unfortunately, the little demon was too short for the spray to reach him fully. Nevertheless, the imp would be scented like flowers for at least fifteen to twenty minutes, depending on how fresh the spray actually was. Flynn didn't even know if it HAD an expiration date! "Ah yes! Maps! Well...let's see what I have in here..." He wanders back over to his cart, putting the cap back on the aerosol can and stowing it away in its proper place. He then proceeds to rummage through his things once more, mumbling incoherent words under his breath. They weren't very encouraging words.

Flynn finally finds something. An old piece of parchment, it looked like. He frowns, then shrugs and rolls it up, reaching once more into his pack and producing a small writing utensil. It was black and waxy. Some sort of large crayon. He starts towards the two girls and the imp once more, then remembers something and turns back, pulling a decent-sized hardcover book from his cart. Finally, he joins the others and spreads out the parchment that he'd retrieved. It was a map of...a bull? To be precise, it was a picture of a beef cow with dotted lines seperating its various regions, indicating what types of meat came from what part of the cow. Butchers sometimes used them in their shops. Flynn couldn't remember why he had it. Odd things like this had a way of turning up in his possession.

Weatherby grins sheepishly, "Well...it seems I don't have an actual map of Luestrife ON me at the moment, but this will do for now. Allow me..." Thus saying, he takes his black crayon and scribbles some things on the parchment. He smiles, admiring his handiwork, then shows the others. On the picture, he had written in big block letters, "YOU ARE HERE" and there was an arrow curving around the cow's hindquarters and pointing at its rear end. Flynn expains, "I'm afraid you're in the wrong part of the country for excitement and adventure, ladies. If this cow were Luestrife...well...that's where we're currently at."

Flynn rubs his chin pensively, trying to recall what little geography he'd been taught in his brief period in the public school system, "If I remember right, though, there's some swampland to the far north and far south of the continent...aaaaand...umm...a giant desert in the middle. So you see, there's really nothing much of interest here." He shrugs, rolling up the picture of the cow, "If I were you, I'd try some place like Endymion. Surely lots of interesting things to see there!" He winked and put away his book, the parchment, and the crayon, then returned to the small group. He had deliberately omitted mentioning Exillion, the capital city of the planet, and Marsotp, the lowlife's paradise that he frequented so often. In fact, if you continued down the road he was traveling on right now, it would take you right to the coast. To Marsotp. But Flynn had some more conning of farmers to do before he actually got there and these three would only be liabilities in his book. Best to change the subject anyway.

"Forgive my brashness, ladies...I've told you MY name, but I don't believe I caught yours...?"

Wait a minute. The dark-haired one had mentioned the so-called "Eye of Shathriss"! They had been eavesdropping on his conversation with that hillbilly back there! Curses! In that case, they may have already seen through him. The man had referred to him as "Thomas Reed". It was a good thing that Flynn had not given any name at all to the poor fool! So there was a slight hope after all. If there was one thing Flynn was good at, it was finding trouble. No...scratch that. Trouble seemed to find HIM. He was like a magnet when it came to this. And he had a rather ominous feeling that he wasn't going to be able to give these three the shake so easily...
Blizzard Exec #1: I don't have a World of Warcraft account! Do you?
Blizzard Exec #2: No...*sigh* I have a life.
Randy Marsh: Give me the sword! I have a Warcraft account. I'm a newb, but I may be able to get it to Stan in time.
Blizzard Exec #1: A newb! We can't trust the Sword of A Thousand Truths to a newb!
Randy Marsh: It sounds to me like you have no choice!
--South Park
Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket
 
LadySabre
Member Avatar
Elder
Co-Admin
Chaos' eyes flicked over to the small, red form of the imp the instant he moved. She'd dealt with demons before and knew just how persuasive and dangerous they could be. Having been Lord Rafiel's little pet daughter, May had always been treated to the best comfort he could provide her with. She was, plain and simple, a naive spoiled brat.

"Some roadside assistance. Where's a GPS when you need it?" she chuckled. Mayhem turned and shot Chaos a glance that clearly said 'Shut up or I'll make you!'. Chaos could almost hear her friend's voice getting higher in pitch until it finally ended in a shriek at the last word. Completely shrugging off Mayhem's glare, Chaos continued her chuckle until "Theodore" spoke up. She watched him return to the front of his cart, a smile on her face.

Curious, she made her way to the front basket via the opposite side of the bike. She glanced into the basket and raised her eyebrows as if assessing his wares. A soon-to-be-flustered May cleared her throat loudly from where she stood and Chaos sighed. "You truly are a pain in my side sometimes, you know that, right?" she asked, returning to stand between May and the imp.

"Like I'm any better off having YOU to put up with. Hmph."

"Oh, go eat a - "

"Alexeika Dunlapp don't you DARE finish what you were about to say!"

" - sausage." Chaos shot May a mischievious grin before returning her attention to Theo. "So Teddy - can I call you Teddy? - what kinds of wares do you sell? Air freshner?" Even Mayhem couldn't keep a confused look off her face. In all their years here in Aronia, they'd never seen anyone with such a useful thing as air freshener. Surely Rumsfeld Hold wasn't THAT out of the loop when it came to modern technology. Was it?

"Potpourri fresh. Nummy..." May mumbled approvingly.

"Maps. Preferrably of Luestrife." Chaos smiled and nodded as Teddy seemed to remember now. "Yes, please do."

The two girls turned to face each other as they listened to Teddy talkign to himself from halfway inside his bicycle basket. Grinning almost from ear to ear, CHaos brought one hand up to the side of her head and, pointing a finger at herself, twirled her finger in forward circles. A snigger escaped Mayhem's baby pink lips as she flailed her arms out to stop her friend before Teddy looked up or returned.

"Err... that's a..."

"Uhm..." Chaos tried.

"A cow? What did you smoke for breakfast?"

"And where can I get some?" Chaos breathed, her eyes following where Teddy pointed as he tried to explain just how Luestrife was like a cow.

"A...ha... Endymion, eh? What kinds of things are there O Fount of Information?" Mayhem asked, turning to her friend.

"Well, there's Ombra di Notta... That's where Samerilin's from. The City of Night is what people call it, I think. I say we go with what Teddy here suggests and take a trip there."

"Alrighty. Wha - oh! I'm terribly sorry."

"Oh, crap, yeah. Sorry... Sir... Wilkins was it?" Chaos asked. "Anyways, my name is Alexeika. Most people simpley call me Alex or Chaos. And this is my best friend, May, otherwise known as Mayhem."

"A cow... Morde a day!" May chuckled quietly.
Wash: I think they really captured his essence.
Kaylee: He looks kinda mean.
Wash: That's sorta what I meant.
Simon: This must be what going mad feels like.
Kaylee: Everywhere I go, his eyes keep followin' me...
Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
Free Forums. Reliable service with over 8 years of experience.
Go to Next Page
« Previous Topic · Luestrife · Next Topic »
Photobucket
  • Pages:
  • 1
  • 3

Designed and coded by Scotty and Axonite of
Infinite Results