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Topics - Yugithzale

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IC - Taverns of Tharel / Just Another Story, of some sort.
« on: April 08, 2010, 06:35:21 am »
   Ooc:Yugi's just an odd char... so... I decided to actuallly write down part of his story, if your not interested, dont read.. oh and apolgies on my odd writing form, shush.

And now onto the story yay!

              Things had occurred before this day, which day this was Yugithzale couldn?t remember exactly, time had always flown with such inconsistency in his room, often he would be lost for several somethings at a time, and would never bother to ask what time it truly was. His room was a room, quite big, he was proud of this actually, from what dim memories he could recall, he remembered the others, the less important ones, they did not have a room as well furnished or as lovely as his. 4 thick stone walls, from which muffled the sounds from the outside, he was always truly alone and at peace, never would he hear anything from the outside, and again this made him feel so very important.

   It was Full of furnishings of the finest wood, sturdily constructed, so as to resist the weight of things many times bigger than themselves. In the corner of the room, stood a large iron door, leading to what was a closet, sometimes he would go in hide in there, at first when he was told to get inside, he had always found it somewhat scary, and intimidating to look inside, and see the rusted protrusions within the small space itself, and the closet door. He had grown used to it in time, and as long as he stayed still, he felt safe, and for lack of a better term, comfortable.  Positioned carefully in the center of a room, was a large sturdy ebony table, an elaborate craft which ad been stained a dark brown. When he laid down, he was the center of attention. He was the only thing in the world, and how he felt on the inside, was an experience he never truly had forgotten. There had been other things in this room, but there were so many, and all so different, and varied, that he had long ago forgotten the things he had endured, but those experiences had always stayed with him. The one thing he still remembered vividly was the other who was with him, the only one he had met more than once in his life.

   The woman was a being of being of beauty to him, he always felt he would see her often, and when she would come in, she would close the door, a large bang could be heard, he always had thought to try and repair that door on many an occasion, but felt he lacked the skills to complete such a monumental task. This time, was no different, the woman had entered the door way, and moved with such swiftness, and such ferocity, a hunter in search of her prey. She almost at once hovered over him, scanning him over quickly with her eyes, analyzing him, debating over him. It always brought him such pride over how much she thought about him. With a gleeful smile he raised his head to look up at her.

?Mistress, it is a pleasure to see you again? I hope you have been well?
   ?Perhaps, little one, it has been a while sense I have last played with you.?

       She always talked with a flat tone he had wondered one day. Something he always had wondered actually, how she displayed so little emotion when she was around him. Sometimes she was loud, and frightening. Her hand moved forward to encompass the side of his head, and squeezed into his temples, a loving caress from her. He had always been loving of the affection he had shown her, how he was often times when they were alone like this, the only thing on her mind.

   He moved gleefully forward to embrace her, and she shifted back, always she moved away, and it was  a sort of game he figured, for the reward was always worth it. Once he had latched onto her hip and buried his head into her stomach, he felt the sharp piercing warm that he had been desiring, permeate through is back, something he had always missed from her. He would always feel cold afterwards. For some strange reason, whenever she would visit, the room would be covered in odd wet and sticky substances, and he would find it very difficult to sleep.  When he would awake the substance was gone, and only a few dried flakes were ever a hint to him that something had been there in the first place. After their loving embrace, he felt her move away, and he heard the sound of her moving towards the center of the room, and to the table, he was quick to follow her and get up on the table beside her. Sitting on the table, peering blankly out into the darkness that enveloped him, he smelt the dirt and soil that invaded his nostrils, and the faint steel that laid about him. He heard the sharpening of a blade and he shifted nervously on the table, for even though the enjoyment and attention was so close, he was reminded of a few hours before.


There was silence

?I saw another woman today, do you know her??

?Know who??

?I do not know? I cannot remember her.. she smelled of lilac and lavender?

?Smelled of? such things do not matter, did she talk with you child??

He fidgeted nervously on the table, and he heard a the clink of some metal hitting the table next to him gently as her hand firmly grabbed his arm and lifted it quickly and forcefully above his head


?I do not know.. she told me things.. taught me things?

             There was silence, he could not see her face, but when she was quiet, it was only when she was thinking he assumed.. or paying attention to him. He waited patiently for her response but all he could hear were the sounds of her breathing as he waited. The silence continued for over  what he felt were several minutes, but it could have been hours. He thought back to that time with the woman, when she had come to him, when she had told him of things, of this woman, of how he should repay her for her kindness. With that a small delicate hand lifted the small steel blade off the table.

           When they were finished he stood off to the side near a corner, often as he was ordered to, it was habitual now. It had been a long time sense he had heard so much noise, the screaming and the pain. His body was again covered in that odd sticky substance, something he was never quite used to, but it only covered his front this time, and this struck him as odd, almost as odd as even after what he assumed was a few hours, perhaps days, Vinya had yet to leave the room. He still stood in the corner however, waiting for that resounding soft click of her exit.

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