Some Stupid Sand Sack Shyke (Solo)

by **Wart** on July 29th, 2012, 8:17 am

35 Summer 512

"Five silver mizas."

"Two gold mizas."

"Eight silver."

"Two Gold."

"It's a petching sack of sand this shyke's worth maybe two silvers at best ya vagik!"

"'S good sand."

Wart slammed her hands down on the counter, her eyes now a deep crimson.

"A'right look how much is'n empty sack."

"Two silver mizas."

She dug in her pocket and pulled out two silver rimmed mizas. Tossing them in front of the stall owner she scowled. She'd always hated dealing with these greedy jerks. "Fine. Gimme that an' I'll go fill the petchin' thing myself.

He gave her a stupid grin, obviously pleased with himself. Reaching down her pulled out an old, ragged sack. Wart picked it up, her hand going right through a gaping hole in the scratchy fabric.

"'The petch?! Look a' this, it's got holes how 'm I s'posed to fill this shyke?!"

"Pleasure doin business witcha mam."

"Oh hell no, I ain't leavin'." She grabbed his shirt and yanked him hard. His cocky smirk was immediately replaced by fear, the safety he had felt with the barrier between them breached. He put on a front of shrewd and stubborn defiance, but in reality he was just another coward hiding behind a counter. "Listen, you're gonna give me a petchin sack, no holes, now."

"H-hey l-look I I don't got nothin' else, see, 'sall the sacks we got, e'en the ones full of sand, time you get it home, s'all leaked out!"

The man's attempt to spill his guts and gain a little favor backfired.

"WHAT?! You petching lying greedy little vagik you were goin'ta sell me that load a shyke!? Seedy bastard how dare you..."

His arms flew up to shield himself, eyes darting between her glare and the fist she held. "NO! No please I gots kids I gotta feed thas all! Uh uh You know I gots needle, thread, some cloth, I can give it to ya free, that'll fix them holes, easy!"

She scowled, then shoved him back. "Fine, an' you hurry the petch up 'm a'ready wasting enough time on your sorry ass." He nodded quickly, then ducked down and dug around for a moment. When he came back up, he put a thin spool of thread and a few old dirty scraps of cloth onto the counter. Out of his pocket he produced an old, bent up sewing needle, which he added to the pile. "I-I know, ain't much, but 's all I got, swear to Laviku!"

Wart sneered and grabbed him once more by the shirt. "How's bout'cha petchin' swear to me!!" She wasn't religious, so as far as she cared he may as well have been swearing to a brick, which of course was of no significance to her whatsoever.

"O-okay I s-swear to you, lady, all I got, 's all I got!!"

She stared him in the eyes, her red ones boring into his brown. Reaching in her pocket again she pulled out a gold miza and placed it on the counter with unnerving delicacy. "Fifty feet of rope, hemp, and if it ain't quality you'll hang from it."

He nodded, now visibly shaking. While he went back behind a crate to fetch it, she grabbed up everything off of the counter. He came back and placed the rope down, quickly stepping back out of reach. Giving it a quick look over, Wart scoffed.

"Well least you got something worth my time here." After spitting on the ground, she took all of her things and left, headed for her house.

by **Wart** on August 11th, 2012, 8:08 am

Wart threw everything in a heap on her bed and looked at it, hand in her hair, shaking her head. "Petching stupid."

The plan was buy a bag of sand and lug it home. This nonsense was a waste of time. Funny how much time it takes to get stupid shyke done these days... Now she was going to have to patch up the stupid thing. One more frustrated sigh and Wart sat down next to everything.

First she picked up the needle and thread. She knew nothing about sewing, but her grandma had always sat around doing it while yapping on about some pointless story or another. Wart never paid much of any attention of course, but surely it wasn't complicated. Needle up and down in and out of the cloth sealing up the holes, right?

She held the thin little piece of metal up close to her eyes. There was a hole there in the top, the thread must go through there. ... But the petchin' thing's tiny... How the hell... taking the end of the thread and squinting hard, she tried to push it through. Missed entirely. "Why you little..." She tried again, slowly trying to easy it through, but it only pushed off the side. Again, and the same result. Eyes seeping to the red with the same anger and frustration she'd only just got over with the stall owner, she tried licking the thread to keep it together, more straight. This time it went through. She sneered. Easy. Very carefully pulling it through further, she looked at it for a moment, then decided to tie it into a few knots to keep it from slipping out.

Now for the sewing.

Picking up the sackcloth she found one of the relatively smaller tears to start with. She pulled both sides of the rip together, so that they overlapped a small amount. Then she reached her hand in, holding the needle, and found the top of the space. Using her right hand to hold the cloth she used the left to poke the needle up through it. It pierced easily, being a very cheap and low quality cloth. When it reached the large knot in the thread, however, it stuck. "Gods, you gotta be kidding me..." She gave it a tug from on top, but pulled to hard. When it popped out through the cloth, it pricked her hand. "GAH Shyke!!" She waved her hand out, dropping the needle down. It didn't hurt badly, but stung and was unexpected. "You petchin' little vagik outta snap you in half melt you down..." Grumbling she picked it back up to continue.

by **Wart** on August 13th, 2012, 9:52 am

Through one side, stuck, pull-stab. Back up through again, stuck, pull-stab. Again and again it happened as she continued her shabby sewing job on the sackcloth. Every so often it went through easily, or she avoided the needle, but more often she would end up pricking a finger or two. Wart gritted her teeth and continued anyway, determined to show the stupid needle that it wouldn't get the best of her.

A few tears finished and she came to a large gash. This wasn't something that could just be overlapped and sewn together. No, there was too much of the cloth missing. It'd have to be patched. She looked over at the cloth that the man had given her. They were all flimsy and thin, certainly not enough to fix such a huge gap.

Looking around the room she bit her lip, wondering what cloth she had to spare for it. Her eyes fell on the old cloak laying on the floor. She never used it anyway, so why not. Rising she went to it, placed one boot on the corner, and pulled. A large section ripped off, and she held it up to compare it to the size of the gash. Eh... Good 'nough.

Returning to the sack on her bed she placed the cloak cloth on it. It overlapped just enough to sew, but she'd have to make the stitching tight.

A while more of the simple sewing methods and the patch was on. Wart then tossed the cloth, thread, and needle all onto the floor and stood, letting out all the frustration she'd been biting back in attempt to keep concentrated.

"GODS! This stupid petching piece of shyke worthless son of a bitch needle!!!! Pain in the ass little - " Her speech started flowing into rapid, angry vani as she wished all manners of torture and insults she could on the thin piece of metal that had mocked her so. "... And not even a single-" she pounded her fist down on bed frame and froze, pain shooting through her right hand. "Gah?!?!" The hand flew up and she stared at in horror. It was covered in tiny red dots and scratches, each now stinging insanely. She looked at her other hand. It contained nearly as many.

Eyes flaming red she jumped up and snatched the needle. Holding it away from her like the corpse of some rotting rodent, she pushed out her door and walked out of the house. This needle. Was going to suffer.

by **Wart** on August 15th, 2012, 2:35 am

Across the street a woman had just opened her door. It was a beautifully sunny day and her heart felt so light that she could almost burst into song right then and there. She bent down to stroke a flower sitting in a pot against the house when a sudden slamming startled her and caused her to knock it over. Looking up she saw that the cause was her neighbor, who had just come out of her own home. She was very obviously angry, and seemed to be pretending to hold something out to one side. The woman reached behind her, very slowly backing up to her door. She watched as Wart walked over to side of the house and picked up a large brick in her other hand. "Ah!" The woman squealed and darted into her home, securely locking her door.

Wart paid her no mind and continued down the street. The brick hurt like mad to hold, but she didn't care. When vengeance was involved things like pain were far from her mind. Her crimson eyes scanned the area until, at the corner, she found what she was looking for.

It was a small tree, perhaps one planted not long ago. Its leaves were tender and green, branches thin and fragile. It had its own sort of beauty about it, a small spark of innocence in such a rough city. Every so often it took the notice of a passerby who would smile in appreciation.

Wart shoved the needle into its bark and gave it three wide, violent swings with the brick.

"HOW'S THAT FEEL YOU PETHIN' LITTLE VAGIK!?!? THAT HURT?!?!" She shouted at it, giving it another loud smack. The needle was now deeply lodged within the wood, and badly bent. Grabbing the tree's trunk with one hand she pulled close and used the other to shove the brick hard against it, much the same way someone would dig a blade into the neck of an enemy in attempt to draw blood. Of course needles don't bleed, and the action only caused the metal to bend further into the tree.

Tossing the brick recklessly behind her Wart gritted her teeth and started pulling at the needle, trying to pry it from the wood. It was now very lodged inside, but she was in no way through giving it the punishment it deserved.

An older man, perhaps around his late fifties, was walking down the road and caught site of the woman pulling against the tree. Narrowing his eyes in concern he approached her, tapping her arm and asking "Excuse me madame, would you like some help?"

Wart rapidly turned to face the sudden interruption, eyes red and teeth bared looking quite insane. "Does it look like I need your petching help?!" The man's eyes widened in fear and immediately started to back away, but he wasn't fast enough. Just then the needle decided to dislodge and Wart's arm flew back, hitting him hard in the shoulder. He gave out a yell of pain, turned, and ran with speed unexpected from his age.

"Wha- Gah fine then petch off!! I don't care!!!" Turning her attention back to the needle she shouted "Dammit look what you petchin' did!!" Without a second of hesitation she knelt down against the road and pulled back one of the large rocks that made it up. Throwing the needle down on the dirt beneath it, she lifted the stone then slammed it down. She did this several time in rapid succession, beating it into the ground. "Ha! See you're just a lil' piece of shyke! Get up and stab my petching hand now vagik!!" One more slam of the rock and some movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention.

Across the street a girl was watching her, eyes wide, frozen in fear. Sneering Wart stood and called to her "Hey, come 'ere." The girl looked around in horror, hoping desperately that the woman was talking to someone else. "Look I ain't gonna hit you now get o'er here!!" Terrified of making her more angry she hurried over, stopping a safe few feet away. "See 's not petchin hard, now see 'is rock?" She nodded nervously. "Step on it."

"… I… what?"

Frustrated Wart gripped at her own hair. "STEP on it ya know how ta walk don't ya?!" Quickly the girl moved toward the rock, hesitated, then pushed her foot on it. "You're kidding, really?! Harder 'n that!" Eyes welling up with tears she stamped on it weakly, now visibly shaking. "Gods forget it, get outta here!" The girl quickly obliged, running down the street, heart already pounding in terror.

Wart, entirely disappointed with the girl's pathetic excuse for "stepping" stamped hard on the rock several times, then knelt beside it again. Leaning in so that her face was inches from where the needle lay under the stone she whispered. "You feel 'at?? People 're gonna be steppin all o'er you for the rest a your pathetic existence." Finally satisfied she stood, spat at the ground, and made her way back to her house.

by **Wart** on August 22nd, 2012, 12:02 am

When Wart returned the door slammed just as hard as when she had left. Anyone rationally minded would realize this was probably bad for the structural integrity of the small house, not to mention the poor door. As this day was quickly proving, however, Wart was not about to be anywhere near rationally minded.

"Anyone else in 'ere think they wanna be a smart ass?! I promise you that lil' needle vagik would really urge against it." Being that no one else was in the room, it could only be assumed that she addressed the inanimate objects laying on the floor and on her bed, none of which chose to speak up. "A'right. Good."

Walking forward she swiftly grabbed the sack, now fully patched. She gave it one more look over, making sure there were no other holes that she had missed. (There's no telling what she may have done if she had found one.) Satisfied she took it with her out the door, slamming it once again, headed off to finally fill it with sand.

by **Wart** on September 15th, 2012, 9:38 am

Wart spent very little time at the actual beach since living in Zeltiva. There hadn't been much reason for it, it just didn't interest her. It was a load of sand next to some water.

Then again, it was also the source of some beautiful scenes and sights, and as she walked she idly wondered why she didn't come down there more often. It could probably be a great place for some inspiration and color ideas from the reflections on the ocean.

Brushing the thought away her mind went back to the task at hand.

When she reached the beach she gave it a sweeping glance. There wasn't anyone around, so no pointless interruptions or irritations. Gods maybe something'll go petching smooth today.

Kneeling down on the ground Wart set the sack down and opened it up. Using both hands she began scooping pushing the sand around her inside. She had to move a little to keep from ending up with any wet or moist sand, as it'd only weigh it down more on the way back. Other than that however it did indeed go smoothly and quickly, and after only a moment the sack was about halfway full.

Then there was the noise.

It came from behind her. A flapping. And then a sharp squawk.

In that instant her body became completely and entirely paralyzed. The only change was in her eyes, which were very suddenly a rare orange-yellow. She wanted to move. To turn. To run. Something, anything. It took an ache in her lungs to realize that she wasn't even breathing. When she forced the air through, it came in a shallow, shuddered gasp.

Another squawk.

The breath caught in her throat and she cringed uncontrollably, her previously frozen figure shrinking away from the sound behind her. Her hands clutched at the sack and held it tight against her chest. Jaw clenched tight she slowly began to turn her head…

"OH GODS"

Whipping around fully she started to scramble backwards, legs frantically pushing her away and hands clumsily trying in vain to grab at something in the sand around her. Finally grabbing the sack again she held it up, arm shaking.

A few feet away a seagull stood perched on a rock, staring at her with dead, emotionless eyes.

"I… I…. I'll… k-kill.. You… G-get… away… from me…" Her voice, which only a few minutes ago had been enough to scare away a full grown man, came out as little more than a weak, high pitched excuse for a threat. Finally her back hit a tree, and gripping it with her free hand she used it to pull herself up, eyes not leaving the bird for a single second.

"You… you hear me?!?!" Heart racing she began to tremble visibly, the sack now in an iron grip. The seagull, completely unfazed, fluttered down off the rock and onto the sand closer to her. It cocked its head several times, just looking at the strange woman woman.

Voice now a hysterical screech she shouted "Get away! GET AWAY!!"Wart swung the sack weakly in front of her to try and scare it off, but again it simply stood there oblivious. Eyes manic and wide she screamed "YOU PETCHING BASTARD!!" and flung herself towards it, running with the half-filled sack swinging wildly through the air. The bird, finally startled, rapidly began to flap its wings to fly away, only to be smacked hard by a haphazard blow. Letting out a loud squawk it struggled frantically, then made it into the air and quickly away.

Wart however didn't see this. Once she started running she didn't stop, and instead continued straight forward back towards the city. For all she knew it was right behind her chasing and she didn't dare look back. Sack in hand she fled the beach, complete mortal terror flooding her veins with hysteria and adrenaline.

When the ground below her changed from sand, to dirt, to finally the stone of roads, she began to encounter crowds of people. Her speed, however, did in no way lessen. As she shoved her way through she shouted "MOVE" again and again, pushing several people on the ground and leaving many cursing and shouting after her.

But she hardly even saw or heard any of them. They didn't matter. No one mattered.

All that mattered was getting away.

It was almost thirty chimes before she allowed herself to slow down. Eyes wide she turned, looking down the empty alley, and saw that nothing was pursuing her. Chest heaving she stopped and slumped against the building behind her. Her legs continued to shake, so she slid down onto the ground and pulled them close against her.

Now that she was no longer moving, it all came down on her. Alone on that small side street, Wart laid her head down on her arms and sobbed like a child.