Kitsani
Full Member
♥ Jet Marrow and Kite Tanomis ♥
Posts: 237
|
Post by Kitsani on Jun 25, 2012 18:20:47 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n533/KitsaniCat/JetforumMiddle.png]
Jet flashed a smile at the Tavern Keeper as he handed her another mug of ale. She purred in thanks, but didn’t bother to say any more. She stared at it aimlessly for a moment; maybe she had drunk a few too many of these, they were slowly loosing her appeal to her. Wrapped around her muzzle was her black veil- a piece of cloth she didn’t wear often, but today since she knew she would be over at the Tavern she decided it best to slip it on. She lifted it with a paw to take a drink, then set her mug down and gazed around the dim-lit space. It was actually fairly crowded today, lots of felines chatting about and laughing and drinking. She had just finished one of her dace routines, and after dancing along the top of the bar (moves the keepers didn’t particularly like), she had sat down to get a few drinks. All in all, she had felt it had been a pretty good night. She had attracted a good share of attention, and had found herself irritably shooing away a couple toms who wanted to talk to her by the time she was done; half of which were too drunk too see the ends of their whiskers.
She finished off her mug and rose from her seat, ditching the actual bar-part of the tavern to head over to one of the tables to talk with somebody. She disapproved when cats came to her, but nothing was wrong with them going to them, right? But as the marbled dancer gazed around the space, it seemed a bit uneventful. She pouted, her bells tinkling quietly as she leaned back against the bar. She bit her lip, debating for a moment the pros and cons of getting another ale. Naaw, she decided swiftly. She intended on remembering tonight, and she wasn’t one to drink lots. She was a pretty girl, and for half of her life she lived off the conversations that went on in the Tavern and generous keepers. She had values.
She frowned to herself, her slightly saddened and distracted eyes betraying her emotion, but her mouth covered by the black veil, making the deep blues pop even more than her coat already did. After both her parents had perished, leaving her with only the ability to dance, she couldn’t make it on the streets. Cats simply didn’t pay attention to a little kit. But she knew where she would attract attention from somewhere else. She had gone to the Taverns, begging the Tavern Keepers to let her perform within their bars to make a living. A pretty she-cat like herself, she got by. She made enough schillings to purchase food, and this place still held a soft spot in her heart. Even after she learned to work the streets, she never ceased to come here, every time bringing new routines. Lately though, her moves have been moving from not only the stage, but up on top of the bar. The Keepers seemed to dislike this, but hey, it sure focused the attention no her, and the tinkling from her swaying hips.
She focused her attention on the cats who were in the tavern now, her bright eyes searching curiously for somebody she could talk to. She didn’t feel like going home quite yet.
| |
|
|
|
Post by icyreflections on Jun 25, 2012 20:36:41 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,424,true] | [atrb=background,http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y77/libbyoc/forumblack.png]
The nighttime air was hot and humid and was overall uncomfortable. The tuxedo tom’s largely black pelt drank in the summer heat like a thirsty barfly and the warmth was trapped and consumed in his shady colored fur. Though the stars twinkled above and the sky was dark, Misto was still hotter than ever before… Of course, that could be because he was running away from pursuing thugs. How he managed to anger them enough to heed chase, he had no clue. Perhaps he shouldn’t have insulted their intelligence by using that Illusion Spell while performing that last card trick or challenged their masculinity by insisting that the cards predicted the end of the bandit’s loving relationship with another one of the members in his group. Misto sometimes, though rarely, had to pack up his belongings after a reading or a card trick early and make a dash for it because there were those who felt cheated or insecure by his talents and had no other way to communicate this frustration other than beating him to a pulp. Misto simply wasn’t in the mood today to get mugged and slaughtered. Unfortunately, he already used his Illusion Spell so he was still recuperating his ability to use it again. He would simply have to use his feet and brain to shimmy out of reach this time around.
Thinking quickly of his current situation and whereabouts he realized that if he made a beeline for the North Quarter, there were bound to be more guards patrolling the area than they would be in the crummy South Quarter where he was currently dashing for his life with the thugs on his heels, whooping and hollering stupidly behind him like a pack of hounds. If he was able to make it to the richer area were crime was squashed quickly and severely, he should be alright. With a plan set in motion, Misto found the strength and agility to carry on and he lead the hazardous shadows that were trailing after him right towards the North Quarter where their commotion caused cats of all ranks to peer from their windows and conversations curiously. Eventually, Misto traveled inward enough that the thugs produced enough noise that the wealthy citizens lifted their haughty noses in the air and began to gossip and complain about the ruckus. ‘Anytime now,’ Misto thought as he panted through the streets, looking for a gully to duck into, ‘tonight would be good….’ Soon enough, he heard the heavy pawsteps of larger cat approaching. When the rich complain they are met with results and solutions. The guards swept passed Misto, almost bumping into him and knocking him over thanks to his dark pelt in the nighttime atmosphere making him virtually invisible. He took this opportunity to immediately take cover so as not to get confused in the scuffle as one of the bandits. He casually and quietly slipped into a nearby tavern, shut the door behind him, peered out the window of the door at the guards wrestling the thugs, and turned away with a careless, but somewhat breathless and broken, whistle and his black and white tail swaying ever so slightly behind him.
Dazzed with the heat and exhausted from all the running, Misto was oblivious to the world around him. All that seemed to exist right now were his aching paws and the bar ahead of him. Slowly now (because he didn’t think he could even manage a slow trot if he tried) Misto trudged over to the bar and ordered a mug of ale in a croaky voice. His throat burned and ached with dryness and he need something to wet his whistle. He tapped an impatient claw on the bar counter as he waited for his order and then felt the urge to plop his head onto the counter. Suddenly he didn’t feel like holding it up anymore and besides, the counter was cool against his black fur. He was about to order a jug of water to pour over himself when the barkeeper gave him his mug and he instantly forgot what he was thinking of moments before. He grasped the wooden mug in both paws and sloshed it over into his mouth, splashing some of it onto his face and the floor in the process. Normally, Misto was quite careful not to waste a drop for he was quite poor and drinking was expensive and not a necessity like food and clothing but in this case, he didn’t really worry about the money.
He gulped the ale and smacked his lips satisfyingly. He sat hunched over the counter and wriggled the mug loosely by its handle with a single paw. ”More please,” he gasped, feeling a little rejuvenated. The barkeeper raised a curious brow at the sight that was Misto but obliged, he was a paying customer after all.
With some energy returning, Misto lifted his head slightly and his natural curiosity finally began to kick in. He looked around the room, his head pounding from the run and when he bumped his head against the counter. He looked cross-eyed at the tavern’s company and was determined he didn’t recognize a soul. This saddened the tuxedo tom for he valued his friendliness above all of his other traits (well, he also thought he was a pretty good violinist and story teller as well) and was disheartened that he didn’t know as many cats as he thought he did or would like to have known.
The sound of a mug slapping against the counter’s surface made Misto look towards the counter again. As he reached to grab the cup’s handle, this time a little more gentleman-like, he casually looked to his right and there, a few seats away, propped up against the counter, was Jet.
Before Misto could find the breath to call over to her, she moved more inward of the tavern. Misto frowned slightly and his ears flopped. He hoped she wasn’t leaving! He really wished to sit with a familiar, friendly acquaintance after the fiasco he just had to endure. He grabbed his mug and followed after her, trying not to look like a love struck, desperate adolescent. He saw her pause up ahead and realized with a pleased jolt that she wasn’t leaving after all. He caught up to her and tapped her on the shoulder, “hi Jet!” he managed to mew in a happy, more controlled tone, though he had to take a breath afterward.
| |
|
|
Kitsani
Full Member
♥ Jet Marrow and Kite Tanomis ♥
Posts: 237
|
Post by Kitsani on Jun 25, 2012 21:20:12 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n533/KitsaniCat/JetforumMiddle.png]
Right as it was starting to seem like nobody of interest was around, she felt another tap on her shoulder. Our of instincts, her ears flattened to her skull and she whipped around, her icy eyes narrowed to deep slits, and her veil covering her curled lip. Who was pestering her now!? She wasn’t just a pretty face, she was more than that. Right? So why couldn’t all these cats get it and quit it when she wasn’t in the best of moods. Her sharp, cold gaze halted, filling with surprise instead. Her ears flicked upwards immediately, and she grew from harsh to apologetic in a heartbeat of realization that the cat she almost snapped at was none other than her black and white friend.
“Misto!” She exclaimed, raising a paw and removing her veil, shaking off her fur so she could toss him a smile. “Fancy seeing you here,” she chimed, and then her left ear drooped again, as it did with her earring sometimes, and it enhanced her apologetic look. “So sorry about that, I thought you were…someone else.” She shrugged it off, trying to shrug off that section of the conversation as well. Taking her black veil, she tied it to her bell belt swiftly, ears pricked to listen to Misto in case he had anything to say to her. She tugged it tight, and with a smile at her handywork she stood upright again.
Of all the cats she could’ve bumped into tonight, she was very pleased it was the upbeat tom. Misto always had that way of lightening the mood, and just being real fun to chat with. Countless stories and good times, it seemed like it was forever ago since they met at the Hot Springs, the nosey dancer had been spying from above. She assumed it was his instrument that had first caught her interest, since from birth the sokoke cat was born with a burning love for music that will never change. But over time it turned out Misto made a very good friend, and it was hard to overlook that, especially when Jet wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. She got off on her looks and sharp tongue; on the streets, it was dangerous and foolhardy of her to open up her caring side to others. Misto and Zahara however seemed to have had no problem at all figuring out that even with her graceful, stuck up outside, she was really just a softy.
Jet studied her friend, surprise flickering slightly in her gaze once again. He seemed brutally exhausted! She laughed lightly, “Come on, you look asleep on your paws, lets go sit down,” the marbled she-cat urged with an innocent grin, trying to usher him back to the bar. With the way he was panting, it sure seemed like he yet again had quite the story to tell. She wasn’t going to push it out of the tom, but she couldn’t help but feel her long white whiskers flick in curious wonder at why he looked like he just ran a marathon. She also wondered how long he had been here, and If he had caught the end of her dance routine. She quietly hoped not, and felt another flicker of surprise. Why wouldn’t she want to show off her moves? Dancing was what she was good at! But to be completely honest with herself, Jet couldn’t help but feel like when she sold her dances to the tavern, she was selling her soul and body for the mere entertainment of other cats. This was something that guiltily lingered on her conscious, but there was no way she’d ever admit it aloud.
| |
|
|
|
Post by icyreflections on Jun 25, 2012 21:48:31 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,424,true] | [atrb=background,http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y77/libbyoc/forumblack.png]
Misto held his ground and stared back at Jet unfalteringly, he assumed that his appearance would come as a surprise and gave her a minute to recognize him calmly. He was surprised but the harsh look in her blue eyes as she abruptly turned to glare at him but he didn’t say anything- it wasn’t like he really could if he wanted. His heart was racing with the activity his body had to endure and he was thankful Jet seemed to understand how tired he really was and offered to sit with him. He gratefully leaned against her, despite a nagging sensation in the back of his head telling him that he should be able to hold himself up and refuse the help.
He sat down at the bar beside Jet and finished the ale he had clenched in his paw. He placed it on the counter and motioned for another to the bartended and looked to Jet, silently asking with his eyes if she’d like one too. He ordered two drinks in the end, deciding if she didn’t drink it, he would gladly take it in her place. He was so parched.
The two mugs of ale really began to work their magic- Misto’s throat felt less dry and painful so he was able to speak now in a hushed voice. The alcohol also numbed the bump on his head, which was one less burden to worry about. He looked at Jet and grinned softly, “hey, what brings you here today?” He hadn’t seen her dance, it was most likely he arrived afterwards however; he was too tired to have noticed her anyway when he first entered the tavern. “Forgive me, Jet, I’m afraid that I’m not my normal self right now and it pains me that you should see me like this. However, it is nice to see you again. I could never hurt as long as I have that friendly face to look at and you to speak with.”
The Keeper arrived with the drinks and Misto felt it best to pay for the four he ordered since he entered the tavern. He slowly rummaged through the folds in the scarf tied around his waist, searching desperately for some money. This week didn’t pay well and he lost his paying customers for the evening. The money he managed to find was meager and all he had but it was thankfully enough to keep him from washing the dishes. He pushed the schillings across the table, grateful that he could think a little more clearly now and was able to stop himself from ordering more drinks that he really couldn’t afford. He took a sip of ale and sighed. “What rotten luck,” he grumbled. “There goes the schillings I made last week. I would’ve had more if it wasn’t for those dastardly thugs.” He looked sideways at Jet, realizing that she was interested in the story and feeling ashamed of himself for muttering under his breath so rudely. He quickly brightened at the sight of her and began in a quick, excited voice (and a few hiccups thanks to the ale), “oh d-dear –hic-, dear me- where –hic- are my manners? Here I am wheezing and –hic- fumbling and leaving you in the dark.” He raised his chin nonchalantly, “Jet, my dear, I was –hic- nearly mugged.”
| |
|
|
Kitsani
Full Member
♥ Jet Marrow and Kite Tanomis ♥
Posts: 237
|
Post by Kitsani on Jun 25, 2012 22:14:53 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n533/KitsaniCat/JetforumMiddle.png]
Jet took the ale he offered with a bittersweet feeling and a soft smile; she knew he couldn’t afford to be spending all his schillings in the pricy end of town, especially on a she-cat like herself. She silently vowed to pay him back, but before she could get out her own money it had seemed Misto was mewing again, and she pricked her ears to listen. She always listened; that’s how she learned. The good and the bad, she heard both when her ears were tentative. “What brought me here?” she echoed. Her expression darkened slightly. “I was dancing; made a few schillings. You should take a few of them, y’know, for the ale,” she smiled, raising her mug slightly as she meowed, and then taking a swig at it.
The marbled feline cocked her head to the side. What could he mean by that, he wasn’t his normal self? She did notice that he wasn’t as bright, although he seemed very grateful for her presence, as she was for his. “No worries, Misto,” she purred, taking a sip of her ale. As he grumbled about his lack of funding yet again, she felt another stab of guilt. She elegantly slipped a few Schillings from her under her belt ( she had ways of hiding them ) and sliding them across the bar towards Misto. It was enough for four ales, and it had been what she had made for dancing tonight. All of it, in fact, but she quietly didn’t mention that. Right now, she was actually doing very well; there wasn’t many dancers yet, but she’d caught wind there were some she-cats from the human realm with lithe feet. This made her nervous. Very nervous. What if all these cats were prettier than herself? She would have nothing left aside from the hopes her raw talent outmatched theirs. It better; she had the scars to prove it.
She giggled though, feeling the mood lighten slightly as he broke into hiccups. She put a paw over her mouth in surprise as he said somebody had tried to mug him, but although she felt deeply concerned she couldn’t whipe off her little grin. It was just too hard not to giggle when he kept hiccupping! “Oh d-dear, that’s awful,” she mewed, genuine worry in her bright blue eyes but her voice quavered as she swallowed her giggles.
| |
|
|
|
Post by icyreflections on Jun 26, 2012 14:42:06 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,424,true] | [atrb=background,http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y77/libbyoc/forumblack.png]
The little voice in Misto’s head nagged him that it was impolite to continue to focus the conversation on himself, however, at the dancer’s comment, Misto completely dismissed this voice and his amber eyes grew wide with excited longing- he now had the opportunity to tell a story! Misto loved telling tall tales almost as much as he enjoyed playing his violin for a cheerful audience. Nothing made him happier than making others smile and he was willing to do the most ridiculous things in order to obtain this sort of affection. Smiles just made everything better- they were contagious but healthy and benefitted the entire community.
Without missing a beat, the tuxedo tom threw his paws up into the air and said in a much louder voice than he was supposed to be using in his current physical condition, “yeah! There I –hic- was, just minding my own bus-hic-iness. When suddenly these strange –hic- lookin’ toms come strutting from the woods.” And as was typical for the strange tomcat, he began to shimmy in place with his arms moving in motion with the rest of his body as he mimed the thugs walking towards him. Misto paused from this action momentarily to grab his cup and take a swig of ale. He licked his lips and made a loud smacking sound before continuing with the story: “I said –hic- to myself –hic-, I said, ‘Mis-hic-to those cats appear –hic- to be the type to be up to –hic- shifty antics. You better tread care-hic-fully.’ Now, I don’t like to judge –hic-, but you DO –hic- have to be on your toes (he shifted his eyes around suspiciously and wriggled his toes at this point) for pick-hic-pockets and assassins- course, I don’t think I did anything to –hic- anyone to make them hire an –hic- assassin to do me in. Anywho, I grinned at them pleasantly and –hic- asked them, ‘how do you do?’”
He leaned in a little closer to Jet’s face and cupped a paw over his mouth, hiding his words from the rest of the tavern. In a hushed tone he asked the she-cat, “do you know what happened next?” His whiskered quivered excitedly as he allowed the sentence to linger for a few seconds but before Jet could form a proper reply, he burst aloud, “-hic- of course not, you weren’t there- they sauntered over to me casually and -hic- once they approached me I realized just how –hic- much trouble I was in. They towered above my head and from their belts I could see the gleam of their short blades hidden beneath their –hic- cloaks. Without a moment to –hic- lose I –hic- formulated a plan to –hic- carefully talk myself out of the situation. They of course wanted gold, but I unfortunately do not carry enough to go around so I-” Misto paused and grinned softly as he took another drink. Finally in a quiet, somewhat uncaring voice (though the expression on his face proved that he was actually quite pleased with himself) he said, “I made a wager with them.”
| |
|
|
Kitsani
Full Member
♥ Jet Marrow and Kite Tanomis ♥
Posts: 237
|
Post by Kitsani on Jun 27, 2012 11:33:59 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n533/KitsaniCat/JetforumMiddle.png]
Jet couldn’t contain her widespread grin now as she listened to the tale, her eyes rounded and twinkling with interest and awe. The marbled she-cat had this young look to her sometimes, where her eyes got rounded like that of a younger child when she was truly interested in something. It was most likely because of her young age and kittish temperament; something not many saw because of how aged and experienced she seemed while dancing. But while listening to the fast-paced tale, she wasn’t holding back her visible eagerness to know what happens next. Misto also happened to be a formidable storyteller.
As he finally finished, Jet’s expression settled to a fascinated smirk. Like the story, a rollercoaster of emotions had passed by her face. A look of frustration when he mentioned how shady they seemed, worry when he mentioned why they were after him. And now pure amusement. “A wager?” she echoed with a smile. Jet blinked, “What kind of –hic- wager?” at her hiccup, she stifled another laugh so that Misto could go on, but decided it best she stopped there when it came to the ale. She wanted to remember this great tale, and the last time she fell unconscious in a tavern, she woke up in the oddest of places.
[ sooo short sorry DX ]
| |
|
|
|
Post by icyreflections on Jun 28, 2012 10:42:52 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,424,true] | [atrb=background,http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y77/libbyoc/forumblack.png]
“Well,” he began with his clever grin still in tact and a slight chuckle a Jet's hiccup, “they -hic- didn’t believe that I could -hic- read their fortune. I knew that they just wanted my money- I hardly had any, of course but -hic- money is -hic- money all the same- but I wasn’t going to go down without a little defense… or fun.” He smiled even more widely and took a sip of his ale. He looked out into the distance with a faraway glaze over his amber eyes and he recalled the night’s journey.
“I told them I would happily read their -hic- fortunes and if I wasn’t accurate I would -hic- give them a refund but if I was right, they -hic- were to pay and be gone. I knew I wouldn’t get any money from them either -hic- way- and they expected to steal my money no matter what but -hic- at this point, I was buying -hic- time. I managed to make them hold off their antics until I read their -hic- fortunes. So, I had the presumed leader shuffle the cards and then pick three and lay them out before me… that’s when the strange happenings began.” He chuckled softly and looked to Jet.
He was beginning to feel much better now. He wasn't sure if it was because he was distracted by Jet and the story or if it was the time he spent relaxing- or drinking... But his heart was no longer racing and his voice was clear and strong. His hiccups from swallowing too much air after his exhausting run were now beginning to subside.
“I seem to have this ability,” he explained, “I don’t know exactly what it is. But when I am focused on something in my mind, I can sometimes transfer it into the mind of others. Well, when I finished interpreting the first card-, which refers to the past-, and moved onto the second- the present-, I was able to -hic- put an image into the mind of the cat that I was currently reading. He was so startled by the fact that I could seemingly read his thoughts that he sat there, starting at me in awe for a few moments before feeling -hic- threatened. I knew at that point that my time was running out and had to think of a clean way to make my departure. So, I used the -hic- ability on all three of them and sent them into a peaceful state of mind as I hurriedly packed up my belongings and fled. I was tired from casting the spell but the adrenaline pumping into my system provoked me to move fast. The spell -hic- ceased as soon as I left so I didn’t have much of a lead. I decided that the North Quarter had more citizens and thus more guards and at that point, I knew I could trap them if I made a big enough commotion. I headed here, ducked into the nearest hideaway as soon as I heard the guards and here I sit to tell the tale.”
He looked to Jet, took a last sip of his drink and leaned forward on his arms, which were folded across the counter. He dipped his head towards her with his wry grin and asked in a casual tone, "so my dear, what have YOU been up to since we last met?"
| |
|
|
Kitsani
Full Member
♥ Jet Marrow and Kite Tanomis ♥
Posts: 237
|
Post by Kitsani on Jul 1, 2012 10:08:01 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n533/KitsaniCat/JetforumMiddle.png]
Jet smiled, nodding and listening intently as he retold his events of the moonlit night. As he mentioned making a wager to read their fortunes, she couldn’t help but flick an ear and twitch a whisker with growing interest. He mother had always tried to teach her to reject any superstitions thoughts, ideas, or beliefs. But her father had been a very wise cat, and he had believed in the stuff whole-heartedly. With the two sometimes bickering over it, it had simply left Jet as very confused and somewhat mutual over the idea of other cats knowing more about her than she did. She couldn’t help but want to ask Misto to read her fortune; if he said it could be done, she believed the brown-eyes tom. He seemed very smart, and part of being friends is believing each other, right?
However the marbled feline kept quiet, Misto was still telling his story. Her paw lay comfortable on the bar, her wrist still cooled by the almost-empty glass of ale pressed against it. She smirked at his cleverness of fleeing to the North Quarter. And almost chuckled at the irony of him dashing into the exact building she had been residing in. Very coincidental, but she was pleased. The timing was quite good too; she had been about to leave.
“What have I been up to?” She echoed with a blink. Jet shrugged, her eyes growing thoughtful. “hmm, just the basics I believe. Dancing in the streets to make a few schillings; oh, me and Zahara went on a little adventure in the Dusty mansion, too!” She laughed. “It was super creepy, lots of bugs to squish. Er- not that I secretly enjoy squishing bugs! –hic- H-Ha not at all, creepy little things,” she shuddered inwardly. Bugs truly did gross the sokoke she-cat out. Crawly little buggers. “I was in here dancing tonight,” she added, glancing around. It seemed the tavern was slowly starting to clear out as it grew later. Everyone stumbling out to go home to their pompous houses. If she hadn’t spent so much time before in this tavern, Jet assumed she probably would’ve been shooed away by now. But she had preformed, and her and Misto had spent a good pawful of schillings on ale tonight, so the Tavern Keeper didn’t seem to mind them hanging around.
“Misto,” she then added, deciding to voice her thoughts, “do you think at some point you could read my fortune?” she cocked her head to the side with an innocent smirk. It was a very random question she knew, and it didn’t have to be right now. But Jet still found the thought of it creeping back to her mind.
| |
|
|
|
Post by icyreflections on Jul 1, 2012 15:40:45 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,424,true] | [atrb=background,http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y77/libbyoc/forumblack.png]
Misto grinned politely as Jet began to recall her adventures since the last time they met. He looked down at his empty cup and pushed it away casually. The bartender came round shortly afterward to collect it and Misto dipped his head in thanks. He knew he must have been a sight when he first arrive and was now beginning to feel a little ashamed for his uncouth behavior. However, it wasn’t as if he MEANT to behave the way he did so this feeling didn’t last for long. He at least got to tell a great story, though he wished he hadn’t wasted so much money on drinks. He turned his attention back to Jet, his eye growing wide with envy as she described the journey she took with Zahara through the Dusty Mansion. He would have given anything to have gone- he was immensely curious of the ‘forbidden’ grounds and wouldn’t blink before leaping into it to investigate. He laughed aloud as Jet spoke of her disapproval of the number of insects infesting the place. It only seemed natural that there would be plenty of creepy crawlies, Misto thought. The place was old and abandoned and without the love and care from a tenant, an old home was a feast to the insects, elements, and nature. Misto didn’t mind bugs at all- some, he thought, were cute and fun to play with and others he just flicked off his shoulder. He didn’t like to kill them because they were living creatures and had as much right to walk the earth as he did but if there was a persistent insect that was buzzing around his head and bothering him, he wouldn’t feel too bad about swatting it away- not killing it, just making sure it left him alone. He nodded his head absently as she mentioned that she was dancing earlier, he wished he showed up a little sooner! He could have played his violin.
He subconsciously groped the air behind him, half expecting his violin to be tied to his back, like it usually was when he wasn’t carrying it around. When his paws did not feel the familiar surface of his beloved instrument, a panic overtook him. Quickly, his mind began to replay the entire day- did he wake up this morning and remember to even grab it? Sometimes when he planned on telling fortunes, he left his violin at home so he didn’t have so much to carry. He had to move from place to place and in the event of meeting an aggressive non-believer, he had to be able to pack up and run as quickly as possible. He didn’t like taking his violin into dangerous situations where it could be lost, stolen, and broken- it was like a very dear friend to him and in a way, it represented his entire childhood. He loved it- when he played it, the soul of his dear grandfather lingered with the notes and guided his bow to the correct strings and whispered in his ear. He needed the violin- it was his link to the only cat that treated him with respect even though he was the runt.
Did he bring it out with him today or did he leave it at home? Misto couldn’t remember- he had it with him so often that it was hard for him to wrap his head around its absence even when he KNEW he left it at home. It was like loosing a limb- for example, soldiers who had their leg amputated would sometimes comment that they could still feel their leg even though it wasn’t really present anymore. This phenomena is called the phantom pain and it was very much like what Misto felt when he didn’t have his violin in his paw or attached to his back. He FELT it with him constantly so it was hard to realize it wasn’t there.
He didn’t think he brought it out with him today. In fact, he was fairly certain that he knew he was going to be doing some fortune telling in the South Quarter and he wouldn’t have brought it with him in that case because he didn’t want to risk losing it. This thought comforted the tuxedo tom and he took a deep sigh of relief, only slightly aware of how odd that must look from Jet’s point of view.
He looked up at her and grinned, pretending as if nothing happened. He caught the last of their conversation and his smile widened even more. “Oh, you would like your fortune told would you?” He winked at her assuringly, “sure thing, my dear friend. There is nothing to be afraid of. I shall give you a reading but I am afraid that I cannot do it for free-” Misto was a horrible haggler. One reason he was usually so poor was because he had a hard time setting a price for his readings. He made most of his money from playing his violin and performing magic tricks- when he just set his hat down and collected donations from passer byers. With his readings, he actually had to tell his clients how much he expected from them and he just didn’t have the heart to do that. He knew how hard it was to make money and didn’t want to be too pricey- even though he needed all the money he could get. More often than not, he ended up doing his readings for free or ridiculously low prices. His mother was always furious with him for coming home with virtually no more money in his pockets than he had when he left in the morning. He couldn’t have that. Of course, Jet WAS a friend and friends deserved discounts right?
“But uh,” Misto said, biting his lip and looking around, “I may be able to make a deal for you…” It was at this point that he finally realized that Jet had given him some schillings for the drink he bought her. He stared at the money gleaming on the table and took it, somewhat hesitantly at first, and shoved it into the folds of his belt. He felt a little hot and awkward, he was a little embarrassed that he needed to take money from his friends, but he couldn’t say no to free handouts. “Well,” he said clearing his throat, and not looking at Jet in the eye for a moment as he pretended to look for a secluded table somewhere else in the bar. “That should do the trick… Yes. I do think that is what I am charging for new customers these days. Ah, there is a table over there! Let’s go.”
He hopped from the counter and smiled warmly at Jet, motioning enthusiastically with a white paw for her to follow. All traces of his previous awkwardness for needing to accept her schillings vanished and he was now eager to read her fortune. When Jet caught up to follow him, he whispered in her ear, “you never know what kind of cats you’ll run into. It’s best these things are done in private.” He found a darkened corner of the tavern and went to sit down at the empty table with his back to the crowds of cats but before settling into his chair he politely smiled at the dancer, took her paw and like a gentleman, offered her the seat across the way from his. When she sat, he took his place, and found the deck of cards in his belt. He place them face down on the table before Jet and began to shuffle them casually as he explained, “alright, I am going to have to ask you to shuffle these cards. As you do you may ask the cards a question or you can focus your energy into the cards and they shall tell your fortune. When you have finished shuffling, I want you to pick three cards and then I will interpret them for you.”
He passed the cards over to Jet with a small smile. “Ready?”
| |
|
|
Kitsani
Full Member
♥ Jet Marrow and Kite Tanomis ♥
Posts: 237
|
Post by Kitsani on Jul 2, 2012 16:39:56 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n533/KitsaniCat/JetforumMiddle.png]
Jet hardly noticed Misto’s slight mood swing, her mind fretting about fortune telling as the tom’s about violins. She did notice a flash of anxiety in his slight auburn gaze, but assumed he was simply reflecting back on what could’ve almost happened tonight. They could’ve beaten him to a pulp! Or worse! Now now Jet, have more faith in your friends! Surely Misto could’ve taken some stupid bandits, but she smirked inwardly at the thought. He always seemed so kind and gentle; hardly the type of cat to walk out of fights unscathed.
Her bright blue eyes flickered upwards again as he responded to the idea of telling her fortune. As she saw he was intending to do her reading now, blood suddenly pulsed in her ears. What if he said something bad would happen to her? What if he somehow managed to read all about her past, as if as soon as her scarred fingers touched the cards she became an open book to him? The thought made her feel afraid, but yet at the same time she was confused on why she seemed so stressed for anyone to know about her past. It made her strong, right? Yet she felt a burning need to conceal it, as if she would be judged poorly. Or as if her mother would be judged poorly. Always a defender, Jet loathed the thought of speaking ill of others. Unless, of course, it was her doing the talking. Sometimes she could be quite vain and realized this, but although her mother permanently marked her paws and diluted any hope of idea of being anything other than a dance, she still loved her.
“Oh, Misto,” she mewed, flicking her tail, “please don’t give me friend discounts, I’d like to pay the full price, especially since you were just almost attacked, and kind enough to buy me an ale!” The marbled feline exclaimed as she hopped from her seat and trailed after the fortune teller. She followed him as he lead her towards the darker corner of the tavern, and grew somewhat tense as the anxiety flooded back to her. What would Misto see? What in the world would he tell her? She blinked, realising how wholeheartedly she believed in the superstition. She had always considered herself neutral; not really caring for the thought of spirits and futures one way or another. But yet here she was, unable to take comfort in brushing off readings like some cats could. Her mother would say it’s all just blabber, even if she was told she’d die the next day. And yet somehow Jet couldn’t find it in herself to be that confident. Why should she be so secure in choosing her own future, when she wasn’t even capable of choosing her own life?
She jumped in slight surprise at the touch as Misto took her hand, guiding her to the seat across from him. As she watched him pull the cards out, she felt her ears prickle in shame. She was so jittery, she must have looked like a fool! The sokoke pricked her ears, not wanting to seem too distant as he explained what would happen. She nodded gingerly as he passed her the card. “Ready? Oh er, yes,” she mewed, taking them and shuffling the cards in her paws. She was thankful for the dimness of the corner as they concealed her scars, her paws continuing to move fluently with the cards as they twisted and turned in an odd sort of dance she controlled. “So I just…focus?” She echoed quietly, trying to interpret what Misto meant by focusing her energy into the cards. She found herself not wanting to ask them questions. If she was too direct, what if their answers were, too? Simple yes or no answers would make it impossible for her to try to manipulate their responses into something that would allow her to sleep at night. So she went with the second option and focused her energy.
When she was convinced they were shuffled properly, she set them down upon the smooth table again. Moment of truth, no pressure. All she had to do was pick out three cards, right? How hard could that be! She silently scoffed at how uneasy she felt inside, and how her bright icy gaze was clouded with thought. She gracefully pulled three cards from the deck, swallowing and placing them face-up on the table. She blinked; they seemed to irrelevant. A three of hearts, an eight of spades, and a queen of clubs. She flicked an ear, raising her eyes to look curiously at Misto. Did he see something in these cards she didn’t? Surely he did if he was about to get a story or her fortune from these. After all, he made a living out of this.
| |
|
|
|
Post by icyreflections on Jul 2, 2012 19:36:23 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,424,true] | [atrb=background,http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y77/libbyoc/forumblack.png]
He had sensed Jet’s anxiousness and noticed her paws fumble ever so slightly as they shuffled. Though her eyes were a piercing icy blue, they seemed distant- Misto could almost hear the questions and conflict that were raging in her head. Fortune telling required astute observation. Misto learned through many moons of working the streets as a gypsy that he had to be quick on his paws and he also had to pick up on ‘little things’ quickly. He felt a little guilty for studying his friend the way he was now but it was part of his job. He had to pick up on the little clues her face and body gave away when she wasn’t paying attention to their movements due to her noisy inner thoughts. He recalled their last meetings and how she acted then- how she hid her paws from his view and was careful now to obscure them in the dim light. Something must have happened in her past and it was his job to hint that he knew about this ‘something’ to create the illusion of the cards’ wisdom and magic.
Misto didn’t mind interpreting the cards- he found it amusing and somewhat therapeutic but as the reader, he knew that the cards only really told you as much as you interpreted or WANTED to know. The readings actually were really generic and could fit to any cats’ lifestyle or answer any question if the cats being read to really tried hard enough to make the interpretations suit them at that certain point in time. They at least got worries off your chest and gave you some sort of guidance that made you feel better but nothing was one hundred percent accurate or certain. Misto knew all of this but it was just his job to interpret the cards- he didn’t need to go around explaining to others that there was no such thing as magic cards… no matter how accurate they seemed.
Misto looked down at the cards Jet had spread out before him and studied them with a somewhat amused expression.
“Ah my dear, Jet,” he murmured glancing up at her with a twinkle in his eye. “Have I got a message for you. What a spread!” He excitedly looked down at the cards and placed a paw to the first card she drew, the 3 of hearts. “The three of hearts,” he smiled and looked to Jet. “Hearts correspond to the element of water,” he explained, “they signify love, friendship, happiness, and domestic concerns. From what I can tell, you were surrounded by love in your past, although,” he paused for a moment and mewed thoughtfully, “it might not have been so obvious at the time. The cards tell me that you’ve suffered some sort of domestic problem- something in your home life troubled you- but… It was for your own good?” He held her gaze for a moment, just to see what sort of expression she’d make in the brief seconds after hearing the beginning of her reading. He wanted to see if he was on the right track, if she was less nervous, if she was interested, if something seemed accurate and excited her.
After this pause, he quickly regained himself- his hesitation was hardly noticeable to the untrained eye. His brown eyes flickered back to the cards and he gazed upon the middle card, the 8 of spades. He chuckled to himself- how strange it was that she chose THIS card out of all the others to represent her present. She wanted to get her fortune told but at the same time she didn't. What card was more accurate at this particular moment? He looked at her and felt a little guilty for his laughter, she wouldn’t think that it was as funny as he did. He cleared his throat and began, “now don’t be too nervous but- the 8 of spades represents temptation, misfortune, danger, and upsets. The cards seem to imply that you are being tempted by something mysterious and seemingly dangerous… it could be painful to you. Spades usually signify gossip, challenges, messages, and upsets… Your temptation may appear dangerous- and could be harming you as we speak- but, as I look to your next card, your challenge will not be made in vain.”
He lifted the Queen of Clubs and flashed it in Jet’s direction, playfully waving it and he smiled and purred, “the Queen of Clubs, the Queen of Fire. You shall burn through your challenges with great ambition and achieve success and happiness. The cards have shown me a dark furred, confident she-cat as a result of all the trials she had to endure in her past and present.”
He placed the queen down before Jet and folded his paws under his grin with a satisfied grin. For a moment, he thought of her, fiery and successful with her golden bells gleaming in the bright sunlight that shone down upon her from above and embraced her form like a radiant gold light halo. She was beautiful and in the moment that he thought of this image, he could have sworn that Jet might have seen it too. His magical abilities were slowly returning to him, though he couldn’t manage it for very long at all. Just a glimpse- a second was all she’d be able to see had he sent her the illusion he cast in his mind of her future. Still sitting across the way this his chin on his paws, he grinned and said cheerily, “well that was quite the reading. Seems as if everything will be okay~ Five schillings, please.”
| |
|
|
Kitsani
Full Member
♥ Jet Marrow and Kite Tanomis ♥
Posts: 237
|
Post by Kitsani on Jul 2, 2012 21:00:18 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n533/KitsaniCat/JetforumMiddle.png]
Jet didn’t know what to believe as she watched anxiously the pair of brown eyes as they studied the cards she had turned. Three simple cards, their symbols and patterns printed boldly upon the rough surface. When she didn’t see face deflate with sorrow of pity, her ears perked in hopeful curiosity. In fact, it almost seemed to contort with what could only be described as amusement. Well, it didn’t look like she was going to die. Jet, my dear, her mind echoed in it’s best Misto impression, you’re going to give yourself an headache. Chill~. She smirked crookedly; it was hard to picture Misto saying something like chill, but either way she took in a breath and blinked calmly, turning her wholehearted attention to the patched tom as he parted his jaws to speak.
As the reading began, her curiosity grew swiftly to worry the moment he spoke ‘past’. Oh dear, how much did he see? Was she truly that obvious? She slowly and quietly turned her paws so they were face-down on the smooth wooden table. Her bright eyes however flashed with a soft awe; it all seemed so accurate, to made her heart ache with re-awakened grief for the loss of her parents. She could never bring herself not to love them, even if they didn’t respect her. Before she had grown shy of her paws, others would tell her that it was wrong; she shouldn’t like them, they wouldn’t blame her if she hated her parents. But how could she do that? She was a quiet child; how was she to know right from wrong aside from what her family told her? It felt right to her, because it was how things had always been, and the grooves winding around her paw pads were as familiar as the bells strapped to her hips. In fact, probably more so. She smiled wryly, nodding curtly as he continued the reading and moving to the next card.
Jet flicked her tail. He was laughing? That’s good when they laugh, right? She stayed quiet throughout the reading however, but she couldn’t hold her lips from slipping back into a smirk. Happiness was just always so contagious to her. And as Misto explained the Eight of spades, she couldn’t help but giggle as well. Temptation and unease? Hah, tell her about it! She started to relax, letting her shoulders loose their strain and a soft smile paint her lips. It was most certainly her in that very heartbeat, and she found herself in awe and wonder at Misto’s ability. Surely if all of this was simply the cards, one could buy a deck and go make money, right? But no, you didn’t see just any cats reading fortunes. There had to have been something….more. Jet had no idea what it was, but she respected it and decided not to dwell. Questions like that could have her chasing her tail and running in circles for moons upon moons to come, she just knew it. She found it best to lay that thought to rest and pay attention to the final card of her reading.
The queen of clubs. The face card smiled regally up to her, and her wide kittish eyes stared at Misto expectantly as he had foreshadowed this card while speaking of the last one. The Queen of Fire? Jet wasn’t usually one to over think the little things and make out of them what shouldn’t be, but fire could be taken so many ways. Heat, light, love. Of danger, savagery, and pain. A double edged sword, but she took comfort in Misto’s words as she listened to him. Success and happiness? Her smile didn’t waver until the flash in her head.
She took an intake of breath; silent but it was there. The image has been behind her eyelids for merely a heartbeat, but it seemed seared into her mind. What was that? She hadn’t thought of that, she figured out that much immediately. But yet she didn’t feel compelled to reject the foreign image. She had never seen herself in that light before. As much vanity or pity clouded her self-judgement, she had never found the center of the scale. Could that truly be how she looked to others? She glanced uneasily around the tavern; did those drunktards see her in such light? Did Zahara? Did Misto? She swallowed, half-hoping they did. But what kind of cat was that? Who stood with her fur rimmed in gold upon a ledge, her bright eyes narrowed as regally as that of the Queen of Clubs? She raised a brow at Misto, but the conversation seemed to have swum along, and as she realized that concluded her reading, a smile tickled her face again.
“Quite a reading?” she echoed. “That was brilliant!~” Jet’s face lit and a purr rumbled in her throat as she merrily grabbed the schillings and rolled them across the table to the tom. “Are they always that vivid?” She mewed curiously, cocking her head to the side, referring subtly to the vision. But she refused to speak of the vision aloud; what if she was going batshit crazy? She giggled under her breath; Naah, if she was going crazy she would’ve gotten the Jack of Diamonds or something.
| |
|
|
|
Post by icyreflections on Jul 3, 2012 13:37:30 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,424,true] | [atrb=background,http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y77/libbyoc/forumblack.png]
Misto laid a paw flat against the surface of the table as he waited for the schillings to reach him. The moment he felt their smooth, hard texture nestle into his grasp, he clenched his paws shut tightly around them and hastily shoved his profit into his belt. It was awful, being poor. Misto sometimes wished there was no such thing as gold or money, he wished that he could just get by playing his music or reading fortunes for food and drinks rather than having to perform and jump on his handed out schillings like a starved chicken looking for feed on the ground. He loved doing what he did for a living but money just made everything more complicated than it needed to be. He didn’t care personally if he had it or not but his family did and the taverns he entered certainly expected him to have some sort of payment with him. If he could just wander around without having to worry about taking care of his loved ones, he might be better off- he could live with a few schillings here or there….
He could never actually leave his family in the caravan though. They traveled so much together and it was all he knew. He cherished those cats even though they didn’t believe he could amount to anything when he was the little runt of a kit. He knew they would stick up for him and love him no matter what and he had to show them the same love and respect. He had to continue to use his talents to obtain gold for them. It just needed to be done.
He looked at Jet and beamed at her, he was so pleased that she enjoyed her reading. He could tell by her subtle actions that it had been her very first one and didn’t know what to expect. “You see,” he said with a little laugh, “it isn’t totally bogus nonsense like some may think. Though, I respect their opinions.” He knew that the cards were generic but in a way, they DID have some sort of healing power and gave personal insight to a cat that might not have been obtainable beforehand. They allowed one to think in new ways and let go of past issues and think of their present and future with a little more clarity. Misto wasn’t quite certain why some cats needed a deck of cards to tell them these things but he knew that they helped inspire these thoughts and really did work some sort of influential magic on those who listened. Misto absently began to reply to Jet’s question but caught himself before uttering his response. He hadn’t realized she was referring to the vision until now and he felt himself blush a little under her gaze. He was just starting to believe he actually had magical powers, despite his mother’s protests, and was doing his best to find out what they did and how to control them… Of course, he didn’t have much luck and every time he THOUGHT he used it, he became quite tired.
He was still recuperating form his jog, but felt much better than he did when he entered the tavern. He didn’t quite know if he might have accidently sent his image of Jet into her mind- and couldn’t tell if he felt any different at the moment. While performing the reading, he had hoped Jet would take his words seriously and when he thought of her future all he could see was the striking blue flames caught in her icy gaze. He might have wished that she believed him and might have meant for her to see herself as the Queen of Fire, but at the same time, he felt he intruded into her mind and felt a little uneasy about how she might perceive him for thinking of her the way his mind pictured her for that brief moment. Normally he saw Jet and he thought she was exotic beautiful- like most others cats… But he KNEW Jet, he played his violin for her and she danced with him and Zahara at the hot springs. He noticed things about her that made her more than just a pretty face. He knew that she wasn’t just a dancer, she was alive and real and he was friends with her. That was all.
It was just for that moment… The Queen of Fire… He really was able to notice the flames that were trapped in the ice. That wished to burn and melt its’ cold prison away but couldn’t. He wanted to help her. He knew that she could be so much happier if she could just open up. If the fire could melt the ice…. That was the purpose behind the reading, Misto thought in awe. That is why we met here tonight. And suddenly, the cards and the fortune seemed to mean so much more to the tuxedo tom and their mystical magic surprised him. Once in a while, there was a reading that really stunned him… Usually he was just reading the cards for coins but once in a while, a reading came up that really meant something MORE. This was one of those readings. This reading was meant for Jet- but could it have invited Misto in as well? Were there spirits lurking about that were asking him to help Jet? Did they want him to get to know her better? He was proud to call her a friend and would be more than happy to help her… He briefly thought of his grandfather, looking down at him from the heavens and smiled warmly with a chuckle. Was this his doing?
He fixed his brown eyes on Jet’s blue gaze as he collected the cards and put them away. The fire he once saw was hidden again and the thought of chipping it free was pushed to the back of his mind. He smiled at her and mewed playfully with a twinkle in his eye, “only for my dear friends.”
| |
|
|
Kitsani
Full Member
♥ Jet Marrow and Kite Tanomis ♥
Posts: 237
|
Post by Kitsani on Jul 6, 2012 17:09:17 GMT -5
( sorry for the lack of my posting table and what will probably end up a short, very badly written post xD Im on a ipad but not posting is driving me crazy, so here goes nothing i guess xD )
At Misto's words, Jet smiled. She had not thought much of it before now, but she didnt really have many friends. Most cats she knew she held at an arm's distance, not wanting to get close to anybody. Not wanting to open up. Because if they didnt know her, they couldnt hurt her. Her blue eyes filled with thought, she imagined how many close friends and palls Misto must have. Maybe even a girlfriend, who knew? He was so social and kind, and seemed so open and willing to pour his soul and support into others. Why, she wondered. Why would anyone do that, in a world as dark as this? Surely there have been cats before who took advantage of that, and it made her feel sad. But to be friends you had to trust, right?
Steeling herself and taking a breath, the marbled dancer devided to try it. Try trusting. With clear discomfort, she moved her paws out onto the table, turning them over so that in the dim light her scars could be seen. Soft etches crissed and crossed the rough surface of pads, a bit of a map of her past as she liked to try to think of it as. "Sorry I find it hard to... trust others," she frowned slightly with an innocent shrug. She studied the toms expression as she pulled her paws back. She had never shown anyone before, and forced a slight smile. "It is long, quite boring story thoug," she laughed, "bu thank you so much for the reading." And the vision, she finished silentky in her head.
Her gaze glided back to the door, but the dancer felt no impulse to leave, and flciked an ear as she continued to sit quietly, cursing herself sligtly for killing the mood with her paws.
( so short fhfhdkdjdn)
|
|