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maderrSo, my desktop is in the study. I turned it on to check my mail, did nothing but that and check LJ, then I came in here to the living room to type up more of Toki's story on my laptop (in my new comfy chair that I totally got on sale hahaha!).
And suddenly my desktop, a room away, starts playing music. I did not have the music up, I have not touched my music for like the past three days. This is the second time my computer has randomly decided to start playing music for no reason, and all on its own. Very weird. The first time, I was alone in the house and it decided to play an episode of Supernatural--that scared the shit out of me, to hear a woman screaming for help out of fuck nowhere.
Damned computer.
And now, to hopefully brighten a Monday for a couple of minutes, a couple more pages of Toki's story. I really need to get back to Bound -___-
Waltz said nothing, merely rubbed against him again briefly, as they waited for the odd wick to return.
"What do you mean—" Tokiwick's sudden voice made him jump, and Roswick looked up, then choked.
Minus all but his breeches, Tokiwick proved not to be quite as devoid of muscle as Roswick had first surmised. He would never be bulky, but…
Perhaps he is not quite so lifeless as we supposed Waltz said, clearly amused. I told you having a dragon meant something.
Shut up Roswick replied absently, following the slender form as it waded back through the mess, clearly locked in argument with the dragon still twined sinuously around him even as his hands fumbled to rebraid his hair.
"No, I did not—that was your fault! Where is—why can't—argh, I hate you, Harle." He did not even seem to recall Roswick and Waltz were there, which was irritating though Roswick could not say why.
Then Tokiwick said something in no language Roswick had ever heard, though the angry tone carried well enough, and abruptly let go of his hair to pull the dragon off and shake it hard.
Roswick was almost too busy staring at the hair to notice. There was so damned much of it. Loose, and with Tokiwick standing, the stuff spilled dark as ink all the way down to his thighs—almost to his knees. Roswick had never seen so much hair on a man. It should have looked stupid…but somehow it didn't.
"Shut up, Harle!" Tokiwick snarled, shaking the dragon again and again. "No, I am not—but—oh, fine, but I hate you." Stomping from the room, vanishing through a different door, he left them once again in silence.
There is quite a bit life, there. Hmm. And I can see you are trying not to think how much fun all that might be in-
You have been hanging around the unicorns too much Roswick snapped silently.
They do have the most entertaining sense of humor.
Roswick ignored that. He had no interest in a messy, scattered, eccentric wick who apparently throttled his familiar whenever they argued. What sort of wick abused his familiar?
I do not believe he was hurting the dragon Waltz said gently. You are too badly scarred by things past, beloved. If anything, the dragon looked amused. No different than pups playing, hmm?
Perhaps you are right Roswick conceded.
Before he could say anything further, the door slammed open, sending books and papers tumbling, and it sounded as though something glass broke—but yet again Roswick barely noticed, too busy staring again.
Gone were the ink stains, the feathers, the messy hair, the messier clothes, the lack of clothing…
His hair was neatly braided, and tumbled over one shoulder, brilliant blue-black against a jacket the color of the sky. It was an old-fashioned jacket, but handsome, and suited the slender build. Long sleeves trimmed in white lace that fell to his knuckles, a high stiff collar embroidered with white vines and flowers. White buttons were fastened only halfway down, the jacket falling open from the hips all the way down to where it ended in more white embroidery around his ankles. The white buttons, he saw, were carved with white flowers to match the embroidery.
Around the whole, the dragon twined, a long, sinuous chain of color that somehow did not manage to clash with the vibrant sky blue material, the eyes swirling from where the dragon's head lay on the left shoulder, opposite the braid on the right.
Tokiwick settled his spectacles on his nose, set down a leather satchel that seemed awfully for an extended stay at the castle, and then blinked at Roswick. "You said your name was Roswick, Captain?"
"Uh—Yes," Roswick replied.
"Who is your familiar?" Tokiwick asked. "He's quite the handsome wolf."
"This is Waltz," Roswick said slowly, braced for the inevitable laughter or demand to know why he would name his wolf familiar something so ridiculous.
Tokiwick only smiled. "Named for a dance that was ill-regarded at its conception, but which now is highly regarded. This is Harlequin." He ran his hands along the colorful scales of his dragon, and this close Roswick could see that the scales were all vaguely diamond in shape. "So you were sent to escort me, Captain? Why did Holly not simply send me a message? I hardly require an escort."
Roswick bareley kept from snorting at that. The roads between here and there were rife with thieves who would love to pick on something like Tokiwick, who looked as though a good, stiff breeze would knock him right over.
Despite all those delightful little muscles beneath the bright blue?
Be quiet. "A courtesy, Master Tokiwick. You are a dear friend of his Highness, which makes you a dear friend of the crown. It would hardly be proper to send you a mere message bidding you present yourself."
"Stop calling me Master," Tokiwick replied. "I am just Toki." He turned and wandered to the desk, pushing things aside and muttering until he was able to get a drawer open. From it, he extracted three short daggers, tucking them away amongst his person.
Did he know how to use them? "You carry weapons?" he asked.
Tokiwick shrugged. "I am no swordwick, but only a fool travels the roads between here and your homeland without some sort of protection."
Roswick was torn between wanting to knock him upside the head for thinking magic and three daggers was adequate protection, and bristling that Tokiwick obviously did not see him as adequate protection—he was Captain of the Royal Swordwicks, for gods' sake."
Now, now, beloved Waltz said, clearly amused. I am certain he finds you most grand and impressive. He is obviously acting from habit. Perhaps you will have a chance to show off your prowess for the pretty, scattered little scholar?
Stop making fun of me Roswick complained. "Are you certain you want to leave so quickly, Master Tokiwick? We can leave in the morning; there is no need to rush."
Tokiwick slowly walked back toward him—and kept walking, until they were not quite touching, and would have been nose to nose save Toki just barely reached his chin. So close, the brown eyes were anything but ordinary. They were currently hard with annoyance, or perhaps anger, but Roswick suddenly recalled the way they had flashed almost gold before—and found himself wondering what would cause them to look soft, like warm velvet or—
"Do not call me Master," Tokiwick said, eyes meeting his, anger in the words interrupting Roswick's wayward thoughts. "I am simply Toki, or Tokiwick if you must insist on formality, but I prefer Toki."
Roswick frowned, sensing he was missing something. No one had warned him not to call Toki master…but it was not something which would occur to a friend, who had probably never referred to Toki as master in his life. "As you wish, Toki. I intended no offense—quite the opposite."
"I detest formality," Toki replied, and stepped back. Roswick fought a strange impulse to reach out and snatch him back, keep him close. What in the names of the gods was wrong with him?
I believe it's called infatuation, beloved. Or lust.
I am not infatuated. He is simply puzzling.
Oh, Waltz said. Puzzled. Is that why you have been trying to picture how he might looked well-fucked?
Roswick choked, and started coughing, waving off Toki when he would have drawn close from concern, and glaring at Waltz. Enough out of you.
Waltz let his tongue loll, grinning shamelessly. Yes, beloved.
And stop hanging around the unicorns.
And suddenly my desktop, a room away, starts playing music. I did not have the music up, I have not touched my music for like the past three days. This is the second time my computer has randomly decided to start playing music for no reason, and all on its own. Very weird. The first time, I was alone in the house and it decided to play an episode of Supernatural--that scared the shit out of me, to hear a woman screaming for help out of fuck nowhere.
Damned computer.
And now, to hopefully brighten a Monday for a couple of minutes, a couple more pages of Toki's story. I really need to get back to Bound -___-
Waltz said nothing, merely rubbed against him again briefly, as they waited for the odd wick to return.
"What do you mean—" Tokiwick's sudden voice made him jump, and Roswick looked up, then choked.
Minus all but his breeches, Tokiwick proved not to be quite as devoid of muscle as Roswick had first surmised. He would never be bulky, but…
Perhaps he is not quite so lifeless as we supposed Waltz said, clearly amused. I told you having a dragon meant something.
Shut up Roswick replied absently, following the slender form as it waded back through the mess, clearly locked in argument with the dragon still twined sinuously around him even as his hands fumbled to rebraid his hair.
"No, I did not—that was your fault! Where is—why can't—argh, I hate you, Harle." He did not even seem to recall Roswick and Waltz were there, which was irritating though Roswick could not say why.
Then Tokiwick said something in no language Roswick had ever heard, though the angry tone carried well enough, and abruptly let go of his hair to pull the dragon off and shake it hard.
Roswick was almost too busy staring at the hair to notice. There was so damned much of it. Loose, and with Tokiwick standing, the stuff spilled dark as ink all the way down to his thighs—almost to his knees. Roswick had never seen so much hair on a man. It should have looked stupid…but somehow it didn't.
"Shut up, Harle!" Tokiwick snarled, shaking the dragon again and again. "No, I am not—but—oh, fine, but I hate you." Stomping from the room, vanishing through a different door, he left them once again in silence.
There is quite a bit life, there. Hmm. And I can see you are trying not to think how much fun all that might be in-
You have been hanging around the unicorns too much Roswick snapped silently.
They do have the most entertaining sense of humor.
Roswick ignored that. He had no interest in a messy, scattered, eccentric wick who apparently throttled his familiar whenever they argued. What sort of wick abused his familiar?
I do not believe he was hurting the dragon Waltz said gently. You are too badly scarred by things past, beloved. If anything, the dragon looked amused. No different than pups playing, hmm?
Perhaps you are right Roswick conceded.
Before he could say anything further, the door slammed open, sending books and papers tumbling, and it sounded as though something glass broke—but yet again Roswick barely noticed, too busy staring again.
Gone were the ink stains, the feathers, the messy hair, the messier clothes, the lack of clothing…
His hair was neatly braided, and tumbled over one shoulder, brilliant blue-black against a jacket the color of the sky. It was an old-fashioned jacket, but handsome, and suited the slender build. Long sleeves trimmed in white lace that fell to his knuckles, a high stiff collar embroidered with white vines and flowers. White buttons were fastened only halfway down, the jacket falling open from the hips all the way down to where it ended in more white embroidery around his ankles. The white buttons, he saw, were carved with white flowers to match the embroidery.
Around the whole, the dragon twined, a long, sinuous chain of color that somehow did not manage to clash with the vibrant sky blue material, the eyes swirling from where the dragon's head lay on the left shoulder, opposite the braid on the right.
Tokiwick settled his spectacles on his nose, set down a leather satchel that seemed awfully for an extended stay at the castle, and then blinked at Roswick. "You said your name was Roswick, Captain?"
"Uh—Yes," Roswick replied.
"Who is your familiar?" Tokiwick asked. "He's quite the handsome wolf."
"This is Waltz," Roswick said slowly, braced for the inevitable laughter or demand to know why he would name his wolf familiar something so ridiculous.
Tokiwick only smiled. "Named for a dance that was ill-regarded at its conception, but which now is highly regarded. This is Harlequin." He ran his hands along the colorful scales of his dragon, and this close Roswick could see that the scales were all vaguely diamond in shape. "So you were sent to escort me, Captain? Why did Holly not simply send me a message? I hardly require an escort."
Roswick bareley kept from snorting at that. The roads between here and there were rife with thieves who would love to pick on something like Tokiwick, who looked as though a good, stiff breeze would knock him right over.
Despite all those delightful little muscles beneath the bright blue?
Be quiet. "A courtesy, Master Tokiwick. You are a dear friend of his Highness, which makes you a dear friend of the crown. It would hardly be proper to send you a mere message bidding you present yourself."
"Stop calling me Master," Tokiwick replied. "I am just Toki." He turned and wandered to the desk, pushing things aside and muttering until he was able to get a drawer open. From it, he extracted three short daggers, tucking them away amongst his person.
Did he know how to use them? "You carry weapons?" he asked.
Tokiwick shrugged. "I am no swordwick, but only a fool travels the roads between here and your homeland without some sort of protection."
Roswick was torn between wanting to knock him upside the head for thinking magic and three daggers was adequate protection, and bristling that Tokiwick obviously did not see him as adequate protection—he was Captain of the Royal Swordwicks, for gods' sake."
Now, now, beloved Waltz said, clearly amused. I am certain he finds you most grand and impressive. He is obviously acting from habit. Perhaps you will have a chance to show off your prowess for the pretty, scattered little scholar?
Stop making fun of me Roswick complained. "Are you certain you want to leave so quickly, Master Tokiwick? We can leave in the morning; there is no need to rush."
Tokiwick slowly walked back toward him—and kept walking, until they were not quite touching, and would have been nose to nose save Toki just barely reached his chin. So close, the brown eyes were anything but ordinary. They were currently hard with annoyance, or perhaps anger, but Roswick suddenly recalled the way they had flashed almost gold before—and found himself wondering what would cause them to look soft, like warm velvet or—
"Do not call me Master," Tokiwick said, eyes meeting his, anger in the words interrupting Roswick's wayward thoughts. "I am simply Toki, or Tokiwick if you must insist on formality, but I prefer Toki."
Roswick frowned, sensing he was missing something. No one had warned him not to call Toki master…but it was not something which would occur to a friend, who had probably never referred to Toki as master in his life. "As you wish, Toki. I intended no offense—quite the opposite."
"I detest formality," Toki replied, and stepped back. Roswick fought a strange impulse to reach out and snatch him back, keep him close. What in the names of the gods was wrong with him?
I believe it's called infatuation, beloved. Or lust.
I am not infatuated. He is simply puzzling.
Oh, Waltz said. Puzzled. Is that why you have been trying to picture how he might looked well-fucked?
Roswick choked, and started coughing, waving off Toki when he would have drawn close from concern, and glaring at Waltz. Enough out of you.
Waltz let his tongue loll, grinning shamelessly. Yes, beloved.
And stop hanging around the unicorns.
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Date: 2009-03-23 12:08 pm (UTC)Does the computer have a cold (virus)?
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Date: 2009-03-23 12:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-23 01:12 pm (UTC)Ahahahahaha! I do so love the way Waltz puts it! Hanging around the unicorns for too long, indeed! =^___^=
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Date: 2009-03-23 01:35 pm (UTC)Magic and three daggers? Ooohh, do I want to see that in action. Roswick might be pleasantly surprised at what can be done with just that.
Love Waltz, too. Unicorn sense of humour is lolz.
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Date: 2009-03-23 01:47 pm (UTC)Ohhh, creepy. Perhaps the music is a hint. 8D
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Date: 2009-03-23 01:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-23 02:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-23 10:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-23 10:30 pm (UTC)And that's about all I can sit still to write, but I really really like, so, yay, Toki!
Bound! ;__; (I'm totally just doing lip service, b/c everything is shiny and I cannot regret you working on Toki or Rook or Huntsman even if it means less Bound.)no subject
Date: 2009-03-23 11:45 pm (UTC)Yay, Toki!!!! Oh, Ros is so sweet in his hyper-Toki-awareness and his denial. And Waltz is still so awesome. And neat meaning for his name!
<333
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Date: 2009-03-23 11:50 pm (UTC)Oh, god, it was hilarious. I'd just laid down to sleep, and after that I totally had to keep the lights on the rest of the night. Sad, sad. You'd think I'd stop watching vaguely creepy things when I'm alone in the house.
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Date: 2009-03-24 12:11 am (UTC)Supernatural has been rough this season. Maria's been turning it after the first scary/gross thing so I've hardly seen any eps, but we did watch last week's, which was awesome. ^_^
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Date: 2009-03-23 11:57 pm (UTC)And er... we've seen how unique colors can be, so would you say that familiars can come in colors not natural to their normal coats? I mean I'm not expecting a pink bear walking around but still, the possibilities are interesting...
Er, sorry, I rambled too long. I'm just wondering how it all works.
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Date: 2009-03-24 12:16 am (UTC)A black unicorn is the only one with the ability to hear others beyond his own wick (and, of course, his wick gains that ability). Otherwise, familiars and wicks can only talk to each other (waltz and ros can talk, toki and harle can talk, that's it).
Familiars tend to come in fairly predictable colors, but they are summoned/made/whathaveyou by their wicks, so uniqueness does pop up. Black is the only color that's really odd/looked down on. Toki's familiar is strange, but most chalk it up to Toki being strange.
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Date: 2009-03-24 12:48 am (UTC)"And stop hanging around the unicorns."
Then Waltz really couldn't understand the wicked personalities of the unicorns. Or Ros for that matter since he's the one who's talking.
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Date: 2009-03-24 01:21 am (UTC)black unicorn. he can make it so they can hear it each other, a sort of milder version of the spell Hollowick used. Waltz is a black wolf, which means the swordwicks spend a lot of time together, and talking to each other via HOllowick and Pence's abilities, and where Hollowick is found, so too often is Fenwick which means Diamond is around as well.
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Date: 2009-03-24 03:23 am (UTC)New ideas creeping
Date: 2009-03-24 04:19 am (UTC)I am SO drawing something for this. I just need to figure out how to do the dragon. yay...
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Date: 2009-03-24 06:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-25 02:49 am (UTC)I also absolutely love the way that Toki argues with Harle. And the stripping the shirt off in front of Ros? XD So totally the love. *snickers* I love the way Ros is trying to figure him out and I like that we're figuring Toki out through his eyes. I also love that Toki hates to be referred to as master and that it's a default for Ros to obey the protocols of polite behavior and that he's bewildered when it pisses Toki off. ^_^ And I love the way that Ros is a bit offended that Toki doesn't consider him adequate protection. XD
*tackle glomps* ^___________^!!
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Date: 2009-03-25 04:16 pm (UTC)Hmm, Roswick. First when he's a mess you want to straighten him out, then when he's all dressed up you want to see him mussed up? Oh, don't worry, you'll have time ;D
And Harlequin... *sighs dreamily*
The familiars balance the wicks out well, don't they? Waltz is there to tell another side of a story and stopping Roswick from making harsh and immediate judgements, where as Harle keeps Toki straight. It's interesting :)
Thank you brighting up my day! I'm sick at home, chained to a bed and utterly miserable, so I really needed cheering up. You managed well :D
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Date: 2009-03-26 05:46 pm (UTC)I look forward to more Swordwick (and Bound and Rook/Noor and hopefully Lord Enterprises, unless that is discontinued for sure, and more Awesome writing from you!)
XOXOXO