Almost as Bad as Peeling Potatoes...Pretty Darn Close (Solo)

[Vala]

62nd of Spring, 511 AV In her attempt to forget about Tako, Vala had also forgotten about the card she had promised him. When she woke up, she woke up violently: her hair askew, her eyes wide open, and her fingers twitchin’. “TAAAKO!” She growled, yelling angrily at nothing. Well not exactly nothing, more on the feeling of forgetting something, not accomplishing something. Vala hated that feeling with a passion, and it was of course, no surprise, Tako that made her feel all pissy. No, she would not allow Tako to win. She wasn’t his pet, his toy. She would do him a favor on her time, no one else’s. She wouldn’t be shame guilted by someone who barely even cared about the situation. Vala crawled out of bed, running her fingers through her hair, trying to get the worst of the tangles out. Pulling her blanket of her bed, Vala folded it up twice to get it to a perfect mat size. It took her a couple more chimes to get her meditation square all set up, with her in a comfortable cross legged position in the center. She would begin the day in peace, even if she had to picture killing Tako a couple hundred ways to get there first. It was definitely unorthodox, being as meditation was supposed to bring inner calm and stop all negative energy, but the only way to break the chains of rage, at the moment, was to delve deep into the abyss full of homicidal thoughts. Vala shut her eyes tight. Normally they should have been relaxed, but to keep herself from getting back up, Vala had to force them closed, to the point where it was almost painful. Behind the darkness of her lids, Vala began to picture Tako. First she built him up perfectly, down to each and every strand of bright crimson hair. Once she had a good image of him set, her heart still racing, her breathing still jagged, Vala began to play out his death. The first couple were quite mild, just plain regular killings, not too elaborate: basic stabbing, bludgeoning, and the pushing off a cliff. By the sixth one, she was getting elaborate, from the methods to the tools. After a good five chimes of killing Tako in her mind, Vala’s heart began to slow down, and her breathing grew regular. It wasn’t long before Tako’s image was fading from her mind, giving her the peace she had been so desperately needing. In the blackness, the recesses of her mind swam a great many fears and shadows. Vala preferred to avoid those demons, banishing them far away from her consciousness when she could. To keep her self, her sanity safe, Vala made physical boundaries within her mind. At the forefront, the closest to her waking consciousness, was a room. A room she designed with her mind. Within this room she was safe. No shadows could slip through the cracks and break her. In her room no one could touch her. The walls of her room were white stone, whiter than anything she had ever seen in Wind Reach, but their starkness and sturdiness, both alien and familiar, helped her achieve that elusive calm. Within her mind, Vala reached out to touch the walls of her safe haven. Her fingers slipped through the self made boundaries, she pulled back in fear. It would take at least half a bell before her room was truly secure, built from the strength and focus of her concentration and will. Vala stood silently in the stillness of her mind, building the walls, stone by stone. When she was sure it was sturdy enough to touch, Vala took a step forward and pressed her mind’s palm against the cool surface. When she could push, without the wall giving way, Vala released a sigh of relief. A little too soon. Outside the walls of her physical room a pair of boisterous chiet walked by, making quite a ruckus. They knocked on walls, whistling, and basically making vygaks of themselves. The noise, jarred Vala’s focus. Vala gasped as the walls of her sanctuary wavered, the stone beginning to crumble and quake. Closing her physical body’s eyes shut tight, Vala tried to hold on to her refuge for just a moment longer, she wanted to be free of the world, of her fears, of her pain, just for a few more moments. But before she knew it, before she could stop it, it was gone – fading like a cruel mirage. By forcing her eyes shut, Vala had broken the complete physical relaxation she needed to get to her world. Maybe when she was more skilled, when her will power grew, she would be able to reach her room easier, faster, with more stability. Until then, Vala had to fight for those peaceful escapes to her mental paradise, where every moment was a gift that could be taken away by the slightest of provocations. Standing up, Vala stretched her stiff morning limbs, trying to encourage blood flow to wake herself up. Once she felt properly jolted, Vala walked over to her desk, pulling on the Vinati and Byrda she had draped over her chair. Before she sat down, she pulled open her drawer and began setting up her tools. She had promised Tako, or more specifically Dai, a letter of apology, and she had every intention of following through on her promise. Vala was not always a girl of her word, lying just for the fun of it, but when she gave her word, when she truly promised someone of her own accord, not when she is ‘coerced’ into a compromise, she had never broken that bond of ‘trust’. Vala was not always honorable or ethical, but what she believed in, she believed in with all her might. Though she was not foolish, she did not announce her alliances like every other Inarta, but she definitely made sure they were furthered. Vala was a very complicated girl, usually tormented by her own wacked out complexity.

[Vala]

Writing out the characters was probably the third hardest thing about the art of calligraphy. The first was maintaining one's patience through the hours of meticulous frills that most laymen didn't notice, let alone appreciate. But thanks to her obsessive, near compulsive, personality,Vala could push through the hours with minimal distress. What really got to her was the choice. This was the second hardest thing about calligraphy. Though Nari lacked the selection of many other languages, it still had just enough fonts to fluster the perfectionist. There were of course the three main fonts Vala had memorized by heart, the ones where she didn’t even bother to take out her reference sheets for anymore. Yes those fonts were perfect for her daily jobs at the enclave; those were for copying old tomes and reference books. It was for specialized projects - basically anything relationship related that really got to her. The free flowing script for business documents, or anything that really needed to be legible, could work, but the thought of such a casual font just didn’t sit right with Vala. This was a ‘romantic’ apology, meant to win back Dai. It had to be just perfect... Vala shook her head. “Gah-” she groaned, annoyed at the effort she was putting into such a selfless project. No. She set her lips into a thin, hard line. She would not give so much of herself for a chauvinistic brat like Tako. Vala convinced herself that she didn’t have to work as hard, reasoning that he didn’t even really help her... so she was only merely giving him a fair trade. Barely a chime after she had resigned herself to a half-assed job, Vala was already hard at work trying to compose a proper letter. Setting aside the her quill, ink, and cheapest parchment, Vala pulled out a clay tablet, where she could just brainstorm without feeling anxious about wasting materials. Twirling her wooden tablet between her fingers, Vala adjusted her grip right before pressing the nib firmly against the malleable clay. The sharper nib cut through the flat brown of the clay sheet. The novice calligrapher/ scribe knew from book learning not to put so much pressure and to lift up to prevent catching too much clay, but she still lacked the years of experience that taught her hands to do so without strain. Though Vala didn’t bother writing out in the full font she had chosen, she still tried to keep the basic form, just without the added frills and serifs. Dear Dai, No. Vala used her thumb to smudge the clay smooth again, until her first lines disappeared. It just didn’t do. It just felt far too formal. She tried again. Dearest Dai, Vala smiled. Now it was starting to get somewhere. Vala had no idea how Tako wrote. All she knew, was that he was a snarky twit, even though, she could tell, just from the anger radiating off his person that he really cared about Dai and he probably treated her far better than anyone else, especially one like her. She shivered; remembering how had brought her cake out of the blue… Shaking her head, trying to regain focus, Vala brought her stylus back to the tablet, forcing herself onto the task at hand. She bit her lip, preparing herself for the liberties she was about to take in Tako’s name. I have been thinking to myself a lot lately over what went wrong and I realize now that I have been unfair to you. Let’s be honest: I’m not the most acute of men. Vala had to pause, so she could giggle and not write wobbly. Wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, Vala began again. I love you. I hope you know that. I really care about you Dai. You mean the world to me. Without you I would be nothing. Vala flushed, having far too much fun at Tako’s expense. She continued for about another two paragraphs, emphasizing Tako’s ‘worthlessness’ and ‘dependance’ on Dai. If that wasn’t enough to win her back – nothing would be. Vala had a strong, very strong, idea of what Tako did wrong, but she didn’t want to risk specifying just in case – it was Tako that was ‘supposedly’ writing the letter. And though the cold hearted chiet experienced little of true relationships, she was observant enough to know what other women ‘liked’, or more accurately, fell for. She finished with some sappy business – I really cherish every moment we spend together. I hope you can forgive me… Vala left a space for Tako to sign his own name. Reading over her handiwork a couple times, Vala made sure her Nari grammar was all proper before propping the tablet up to be referenced as she wrote out the proper letter. She rolled her neck and shoulders, getting herself ready for the final product. She scrunched up her nose – war face at the ready.

[Vala]

Vala was always beset by a torrent of mixed feelings when she worked with clay tablets. It was perfect because she could never make a mistake, well she could, but no one would ever know! She had made at least twenty mistakes in her draft, but now, it made her giddy to see each perfect stroke, divest of lumpy lined eyesores. But on the flip side, the side that made Vala want to cry every time she thought about it, was that in probably less than a day… she would have to smudge it all out – all her time and effort wiped clean; Vala wanted to be remembered forever. Using a clean dry cloth, Vala wiped away the excess clay from the nib of her stylus, putting it away in its proper cloth pocket. Still too cheap to afford an angled writing workspace, Vala pulled the paper closer to her and angled it just a couple degrees to compensate for her hand slant. After delicately twisting off the cheap black ink, vial cap, Vala finally picked up her quill. She dipped it gently into the clear inky surface, allowing the reservoir to fill before tapping the shaft, close to the nib, against the edge of the vial, to gently remove the excess ink. The first stroke was perfect – even, straight, even properly tapered at the end. It was like she was on a roll. Vala continued to copy the letter from the tablet to the paper with relative ease. It was no less than fifty percent because of the font she had chosen, but it was all just coming out so right that Vala couldn’t help but genuinely smile from a growing sense of accomplishment. Her run was rudely interrupted half way into the letter. She hadn’t tapped off enough of the excess, and the first stroke she made, the first letter of a new sentence, began to bleed heavily of ink, an angry black blotch on the clean paper. Vala stared at it for a second, mouth agape, before she could gather her wits to grab a cloth and meticulously dab away what she could. But it was already on, there would be no erasing. Only a foolish novice or an accomplished master would attempt melding the blob into another character, covering it up with flourishes. Vala tsked angrily, rapping her quick tongue against the back of her teeth. A flush, not of excitement or joy crept onto the apple of her cheeks. Vala growled in annoyance as she tried not to tear up at her failure. She had promised herself from the beginning she wouldn’t waste any more than one sheet for Tako, but she hadn’t factored in the possibility of such a silly mistake. She had grown careless, lulled to a false sense of security by the flow of perfect lines. Now she was paying dearly with emotional distress. Vala didn’t make mistakes! And now there it was: one giant, disgusting, cancerous blob in the middle of her perfect composition. She didn’t want to go back on her word to herself, but she also didn’t want Tako or Dai to ever know she was less than flawless … Ugh, she knew this was going to sap away at her time, but she didn’t know it was going to make her life this miserable: it was worse than peeling potatoes… No. She would not allow herself to be tortured by Tako any longer. Vala continued with her already pro bono job, doing her best not to let her eyes wander to the permanent symbol of her failure. She honestly couldn’t spare anymore paper… Vala’s eyes took on a red rimmed puffiness from tears held back. To any outside observer her reaction was grossly disproportionate – the blob barely visible next to the blocks of perfect text she had written out, but to her, to Vala, she was nothing if she wasn’t perfect. She couldn’t afford to be forgotten, her frail ego couldn’t handle the obscurity she faced every day as a cheit if it was because she had allowed herself to slack and not because fate was just being cruel and testing her to her limits. Vala was not weak, she was fragile, but never weak. She wouldn’t let herself fade to nothingness – she would do everything in her power to be remembered. And she had already devised a life plan to achieve her goal: be the best at everything she could. With one final flick of her wrist, Vala added the last perfect flourish to the character, leaving just a little bit of space at the bottom of the paper for Tako to write his signature. He would definitely owe her from this…

[Vala]

“Here” said the girl with a stony face. Tako’s head cocked to the right, in confusion. His eyes travelled to the folded parchment in her hand, quickly coming back to Vala’s cold blue eyes. “Wha-“ He almost asked until he remembered what she had promised him the day before. He really didn’t think she had been serious. For once, Tako was speechless. He took the letter with trembling hands, fumbling to get it open. His quick eyes scanned the flowery script. Vala’s gaze did not waver as she watched every one of Tako’s minute expressions. She squinted as she caught the slightest of eye expansions. Tako was a very controlled man, use to keeping his cool as a chiet should. It was hard to catch anything in the dim and flickering candle light. It strained her eyes to see, but Vala managed to discern most of Tako’s honest reactions in the subconscious dilation and contraction in his eyes. The middling parts garnered irritated eye contractions – parts where Vala had over exaggerated about Tako’s chauvinistic incompetency. The blue all but disappeared, replaced by glistening black, when his eyes were focused lower on the paper – the parts where she had written about Tako’s undying love. It was absolutely fascinating to Vala to watch Tako, someone who could control their emotions almost as naturally as her. It was a treat to see genuine emotion flit through his countenance. She didn’t care if he liked it. In her subtle way she was using him. If she could read him from eye contractions alone, then who couldn’t say others could do the same to her. She was always looking for new ways to hone her ‘craft’. She tried doing it now, opening her eyes wide, but it wasn’t the same. Pupil dilation was subtle and told stories, but it was also subconscious, well for most people. Vala blinked slowly like a snake, gleeful thoughts winding around her head. If she learned how to control that, then it would give her boundless ‘power’ in manipulation. “You’re welcome.” Her cold tone seemed to fall flat, landing almost sarcastically at Tako’s feet. She walked away, just as he had yesterday, without as second look back. He hadn’t even finished reading the letter yet. Vala jogged back to her room. She wasn’t in much of a rush; she had all the time in the world, but her body sang with dissonant energy, screaming for release. Whether truly unaware, or doing her best to cover it up, Vala was honestly trying to get as far away from Tako. Seeing his face, his reactions elicited more of a physical response in her than she was use to, more specifically, comfortable with. Because her pace was unforced, just a natural, casual stride, Vala just fell into using the proper form – naturally. Each steady step on the firm stone floor of the warren was heavy yet muffled by the worn leather of her boots. Most people didn’t hear her coming but she was going slow enough to be able to dodge all the compliant citizens of the volcanic city. Only a few of her own caste bothered to pay her attention as she breezed by; the Endal and Avora didn’t waste their energy; and the Dek were too afraid to incur Vala’s wrath by raising questioning looks. She turned a corner, almost knocking a drudge to their feet, but deftly side stepping just in time. The rush of adrenaline led Vala to speed up her pace even further, faster than a jog but not quite yet a run. She had a short stint where she sprinted as she reached an open courtyard, slowing back down when she made her way back to a narrower corridor. Heel to toe, heel to toe, heel to toe she jogged. Her arms swung methodically at her sides, hands balled up into loose fists. She was barely out of breath when she reached her room. A glistening sheen of sweat just marked her brow. Closing the door behind her, Vala walked over to the un-emptied water basin she had used to wash her face that morning. Setting it on her table Vala began to ‘work’; Tako all but forgotten. Her mind was blissfully clear as she lost herself in the beautiful lie that was acting. She didn’t get far that morning – in acting that is. The best she could do by the end of the session was an exaggerated eye dilation… but that was just a side effect from doing what she could do at the drop of a hat – tear up like she was really sad or guilty. She wished she could have isolated the contractions, but she was content with as far as she got: 99 percent because it finally helped her push all, and any thoughts of Tako out of her uncharacteristically 'feeling' mind. OOC : This is something that just stemmed off this thread. (Prequel) Tell Me A Story

[Flicker]

Vala's XP: Meditation: 2, Calligraphy: 2, Copying: 2, Observation 1, Running: 1, Acting: 1, Composition: 2 Lores: Creating a setting to meditate in, The beginnings of a mental sanctuary, The subtleties of eye muscle manipulation, Tako's flaws at self control, Swallowing pride to save paper and keep a promise to herself, Overconfidence leads to mistakes. Comments: I couldn't find your lores to double check what I've given you in relation to your calligraphy skills. I couldn't remember if I'd awarded you one on the clay table or not, but I think I did in one of your previous threads. As always, a quick painless read.