[The Raster Market] Break The Ice [Syllke]

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A village cut off from the rest of Mizahar by the Valterrian, slowly reestablishing contact with the outside world.

[The Raster Market] Break The Ice [Syllke]

Postby Vanos Strongarm on August 31st, 2011, 6:54 pm

The fingers over his flesh felt different for Vanos, for no one had ever really so delicately inspected his flesh before. No Isur would truly care to touch another's skin as one Isur was more or less the same as the other, and thus no curiosity from touching another. But here was this Vantha that was touching the hard flesh of an Isurian for the first time, and in turn Vanos had to hold back his curiosity in not touching the Vantha back in turn. He had touched other humans, of course, but those were nothing more than polite handshakes or pats on the back - he never got to truly feel the flesh that was so delicate and soft. Part of the downside of having flesh akin to stone was that the tactile feedback that Vanos felt at this fingertips was nothing like that of a human or human-like species. If Vanos had the ability to compare the input from his fingers to that of Syllke's, it would feel as if everything he touched in the world was through a thick glove, never quite feeling what's inside his hand. He could feel the physical response from pressing his finger tips against something, but not the same sensory input that Syllke was feeling as the fingers trailed against those thick and pulsing veins along Vanos' arm.

Vanos knew that he had no mark to protect him from the cold or the elements, as he was distantly related to Izurdin and thus possessed a weak version of the god's physical characteristics. His flesh was hard and resistant to nature not from a Gnosis mark of a god but because he was part god, albeit, very distantly related. If Vanos was to believe the truth about bloodlines, the Coglias bloodline would be one of the furthest away from the purity of the Sultros line, but all his brothers and sisters looked more or less alike and to Vanos they were all descended from Izurdin.

When asked about nudity and his work, Vanos assumed that he meant the clothes that would be on his upper body. It would be foolish to completely work naked, but perhaps it was a Vantha thing where they did their best work in the nude, to which Vanos tilted his head at Syllke and wondered if he would be removing his clothing to help Vanos with tailoring his shirt to better suit his body.

"Yes, vork nude. Clothes get in vay of vork, so no vear them vhen at forge. Clothes vill singe or catch fire. More hazardous to keep clothes off and vork nude." Vanos wasn't ashamed of what he said, because in his mind it was the truth. Wearing his shirt would be weird an hazardous, though he did know of some Isurs that enjoyed working with clothes on. And those Isur were the ones that seemed to be the least interested in keeping their bodies in perfect order and shape.

"Do Vantha vork nude, too? Snow not varm, don't know how you vork nude at all." Vanos reached out one of his huge hands to Skylle's wrist and gently held it for a moment. The wrist was thin and felt like it would break like a twig between his fingers. Vanos placed two of his own fingers side by side and noticed how the width between those two digits almost seemed comparable to that to the thinnest part of Syllke's arm.

"Brittle, Vantha. Surprised you not broke, yet."
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[The Raster Market] Break The Ice [Syllke]

Postby Syllke Skyglow on September 3rd, 2011, 12:55 pm

Syllke’s eyes widened, this time in real astonishment. He had only been joking – sort of. But . . . it made sense, when you thought about it. The Isur were very much likes rocks – and rocks had no need of clothes. Perhaps, like babies and very tiny children, they had no sense of modesty – the modesty imposed by culture. Syllke wondered what it would be like to run about naked all the time. He thought it a bit odd that he had never heard such tales about this race – from traders who came to Avanthal. But, then again, he knew nothing about the Isur anyway. Maybe he should listen more closely when travelers spoke – though now he would have the opportunity, eventually, to see such things for himself.

“That – that sounds very . . . interesting.” Syllke replied, his eyes looking back into the Isur’s blue face. “I guess your skin must be very tough.” Even down there, he thought but did not say out loud. It might be interesting to find out, one day, he added to himself, ever curious about all things novel and unknown.

At Vanos’ question though, he laughed again, merrily. “No! No, we don’t – though I’m not sure why not. We could be warm enough indoors – I’d say the hunters and herders might not fancy it too much, though.” He smiled and looked at the huge, thick fingers holding his wrist so carefully. “Yes, we are of much smaller stock than you, Vanos. Though I’m pretty tall for a Vantha.” As Vanos released his wrist, he used his freed hand to straighten the shirt around the Isur’s hips, wanting to make sure he cut it correctly. “And not so very brittle.” He added. “I might look skinny, but I’m strong.” He scrutinized the fabric carefully, running his hands over it. “Maybe one day we can wrestle, and I’ll show you how Vantha defeat much larger opponents.” He said in an offhand way, mostly musing out loud.

Looking again at Vanos, he said, “I think maybe you need a better design. This shirt will never fit you properly as it is.” He touched the left arm. “Your arms are mismatched. Is that typical for an Isur?” Syllke had so little guile that he often displayed as little tact.

“Are all the Isur like you? So short? I think I can remodel your shirt – maybe take the sleeve right out, make it more like a vest? What do you think?” As he spoke, he had leaned back on the bed, resting his weight on his hands behind him, giving Vanos a very critical survey head to toe.
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[The Raster Market] Break The Ice [Syllke]

Postby Vanos Strongarm on September 3rd, 2011, 8:43 pm

"Skin tough, yes," Vanos said with a nod of his head. He wanted to almost give Syllke a demonstration of how it would be near impossible for the point of a needle to pierce parts of his flesh, but deemed that an unnecessary and "showy" move on his part - Syllke would just have to take his word for it.

It was nice that Syllke was sitting, as it made looking over to him far easier than looking up to the tall Vantha. Now that they were eye to eye, Vanos grinned at him and gave a little chuckle at the thought of the Vantha trying to wrestle the Isurian. While he said that he was strong and not brittle, the muscle that he saw on his arms seemed to betray that confidence that he spoke.

"Vestle, yes, you vill try. Vhen that happens, you remember your vords about being strong and not brittle. I may break you." Vanos said with a grin and perhaps a little seriousness in there, as well, as he didn't want to be wholly responsible for injuring the Vantha unintentionally. He looked down to the dress of a shirt that was licking the bottom of his knees but was distracted at looking at the tailored bottom as he felt a hand against his left arm once more and he snapped his attention back to Syllke. He placed his right hand over his left arm for a moment as he rubbed his rough finger tips against the equally rough and veiny flesh of the left arm.

"Yes, Isurian males have bigger left arm, females have bigger vight arm. Maybe vest vould be smarter. No sleeves, no fuss, hm?" Vanos never thought about such a simple solution to the problem and smiled at Syllke who got more comfortable on the bed and leaned back, looking over to the Isurian.

"Vhat? Is there something on my face?"
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[The Raster Market] Break The Ice [Syllke]

Postby Syllke Skyglow on September 4th, 2011, 7:31 pm



“Yes.” Syllke replied with a grin. “A nice smile. It suits you.”

Leaning forward, he pinched the fabric of the shirt lightly. “I think about here is where I should cut, alright?”

Vanos indicated his agreement and took the shirt back off, with the same bit of a struggle as with the other one. He had grabbed that original shirt back into his hands, when Syllke said, “Oh, don’t bother to put that back on, unless you really want to. Your body is amazing to look at, and I’ll just have to have you put this one on. . . “ he indicated the new shirt which he held in his lap, “from time to time for measurements.”

“You can sit if you like, there . . . “ He nodded towards the one wooden chair he had in his room, across the way by his desk. The seat of the chair, the surface of the table, and the room itself generally, was littered and covered with objects and tools of art, from sketches, to paint and brushes, to carving tools and all sorts of bits of wood and stone, and innumerable other objects of nature that he had found around Denval – and some brought with him from Avanthal. It was all quite disordered.

He patted the bed next to him. “. . . or here. It’s more comfortable.” He took the scissors in his hand and began to carefully cut the shirt. “Or, you can go, if you have things to do. This will take a while.” He cocked his head to one side as seemed to be a habit of his. “But I would love for you to say. You can tell me about your home, and your people – or about you, if you aren’t shy.”



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[The Raster Market] Break The Ice [Syllke]

Postby Vanos Strongarm on September 5th, 2011, 4:53 am

Vanos had never really thought about his face or the fact that his smile was nice. All that the female Isur cared about were feats of strength, or his ability to use his Gnosis in a new or unique way, not if it he had a nice smile. He looked over to Syllke for a moment, taking his turn to observe the man that was looking at him very intently. The Vantha was small, yet stood almost a good two feet over his head. It wasn't the height that seemed small as Vanos was certain that his right arm alone weighed more than the Vantha's whole body weight, clothes and coin purse combined.

He nodded his head at the comment about where to cut - Vanos couldn't care less about how or where the shirt was cut as long as it looked appropriate - and struggled, as before, to get something as simple as a t-shirt off his body. Once it was off and in Syllke's hand, the comment about his body took him completely by surprise, though in retrospect it was something that would be expected after what was said about his smile.

"Isur body, good?" While he did take more than average care of his body, Vanos always saw it as a way to work more efficiently, not merely to please someone as they looked upon the pale flesh of his body that stretched over the bumps of his muscles. He looked down to his body, as if to see something there that wasn't previously there before, then looked back over to Syllke with as much of a raised eyebrow as the bony ridge over his eyes allowed. He looked over to the place on the bed where Syllke had motioned to and slowly walked over and sat himself down there, right on the edge and near the end of the bed. With that much weight slowly moving down on one side of the bed it started to shift and slowly lift on the opposite corner and Vanos managed to stand up with a grunt before the bed completely flipped over and messed up what Syllke was doing for him.

"Sorry. Bed normally on ground to stop that. Maybe I stand here instead and just vatch. Keep company. Talking about Sultros, not Isurian thing. Very veird." Vanos paused for a moment as he tried to think of a different way to talk about that subject, without getting into so much detail about it. "Not secret but not talked about a lot. Perhaps I tell you something else about Isurians. Don't ask for all history, don't know everything. Not a valking Isurian knowledge book!"
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[The Raster Market] Break The Ice [Syllke]

Postby Syllke Skyglow on September 9th, 2011, 6:22 pm



Syllke was a bit preoccupied with his scissors so he wasn’t really paying attention as Vanos sat on the bed, as far away from the Vantha as possible. But he did look up, startled, when his end of the bed began to rise unexpectedly. He laughed. “You must be made of gold, to weigh so much. Make sure none of those pirate types get a hold of you – they might try to melt you down into ingots.”

But Vanos had already risen, and Syllke did not have to worry about the structural integrity of the wooden chair as the Isur chose to remain standing. Carefully snipping through the fabric, Syllke kept his eyes on the shirt in his lap. At Vanos’ slightly evasive words, the boy shrugged. “Alright. Tell me what you like. I like stories best – you know – legends or myths or things your people believe in – or heroic tales – or adventures. Anything like that.”

Perhaps it hadn’t occurred that the Vantha, like their eyes, were a bit more colorful than many other races. But he settled in, threading a needle, prepared for Vanos to entertain him.


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[The Raster Market] Break The Ice [Syllke]

Postby Vanos Strongarm on September 11th, 2011, 12:14 am

Vanos smirked at the idea of pirates trying to melt down his body. They'd find it particularly difficult to melt any of his flesh as the intense heat of a forge did nothing to the pale and strong flesh that covered the Isur from head to toe. He gave his head a shake as he thought about what sort of story to tell the Vantha.

"Story for Vantha? Vhat sort to tell him, hmm." Vanos said as he rubbed the rough stubble at the tip of his chin as he got more comfortable.

"Maybe I tell you un-story. Human think Isur came from mountains, from magic. Not true." Vanos said with a shake of his head. "Isur came from Izurdin. Blood that flows through Izurdin's veins flows through us. Isur not gods, but Isur strong like Izurdin. There vas no magic, no melding with rock. Isur from Izurdin." He said with a nod of his head. "That is that."

He frowned again, a heavy Isurian frown as he looked down to the bed and back to Syllke, almost apologetically.

"I sorry. Sounds better in Isurian. More vords to say. Not many in Common. Story sounds short and ... simple. Not short or simple." He said with a shake of his head and a little sigh.

"Vhere Vantha come from?"
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[The Raster Market] Break The Ice [Syllke]

Postby Syllke Skyglow on September 12th, 2011, 4:08 pm


Syllke went on with his sewing as Vanos spoke. He nodded when Vanos was finished. “Yes, just like in the market – you haven’t quite got the hang of the common tongue yet. Don’t worry though – you’ll pick it up in no time.”

Clipping off the end of the thread with his teeth, Syllke tied a first knot. Rethreading the needle, he said, “We Vantha are made of magic, and the love of a goddess.” His eyes went momentarily to the Isur, and he grinned. “It’s where the eyes come from.” His own were now pebbled with emerald green flecks, bespeaking his neutral, happy state. Attending to his task once more, Syllke spoke in a melodic, almost sing-song voice as he stitched away.

“Long, long ago, when the earth was very young still, when Leth and Syna had just begun their dance in the heavens above us, when the other gods and goddesses cast looks one at another and smiled and felt the stirrings in their hearts and stomachs that signaled deep feelings, Morwen, the most beautiful of all the goddesses, walked over the earth, moving south to a place of light and heat. Moving with grace across a tundra devoid of life – brown and tan and bleak, she came upon a lovely palace, made of the shifting snow of that land – a magic snow that was not cold, that did not melt, and which felt like grit in your hand. As she approached the doors carved of the bones of the monsters of the region – strange beasts with humps on their back and stomachs that could store water, as the land held none - she marveled that they opened to her gentle touch. Entering, she was delighted to spy a rushing geyser – like the melting run off of a great glacier, all contained in a pool that seemed to be made of ice, though it was only cool to the touch and seemed more of stone, though it was colored all fifty three of the shades of blue. She bent to scoop some of the water into her delicate hand and as she raised it to her perfect lips, she saw that she was not alone.

Across the way from her, on the other side of this torrent, was a man – but a man like no other that she had ever seen. He stood tall and proud, his face open and free and noble. His dark hair swung loose about his shoulders and down to his waist. His skin was a golden-brown, as if kissed by Syna herself. His eyes were a deep green, like jade, or the ocean, or the grass, or the leaves on the trees, or the scales on the leaping trout. They were all those living things. His only garment was a wrap of bright cloth – all the colors of the flowers on the tundra, which he had knotted about his waist. When he spoke, his voice was like water running over the smooth stones of a brook awash with a spring melt, and his words were like sweet honey. Morwen felt the wriggling of a fish in her stomach when she looked upon him and she loved him from that moment. He invited her to walk, and talk, and dine on strange fruits and foods and drink clear water from his geyser, which he called a fountain. He asked her her name and where she had come from, and he told her his name was Sivah. She knew him then to be a god, and her love grew stronger still, and they lay together, many and many a night.

Over the course of time, Morwen invited Sivah to come with her to her realm – the lands of the north. But Sivah was stubborn. He insisted that he could not withstand the cold and the ice, that he preferred his warm and sunny lands, and that Morwen should instead stay with him there, and be his lover and forget her domain. But this Morwen was reluctant to do. Instead she proposed a compromise – let Sivah live with her in her realm for half the year, and she would live in the far south for an equal number of months, each to bring his or her gifts to the land they were residing in. Still, Sivah refused, wanting only for beautiful Morwen to be his obedient lover. Morwen, though, could not give her heart to such an unyielding god. Finally, they parted. She left selfish Sivah and returned to her home in the far north. Though he had not been a companion fit to be by her side, for all his lack of regard for her, still, she missed him and was lonely. Though she held some small hope that she might yet be with child by him, such was not to be. Barren, she faced the future with none to share it with.

With tears in her eyes, she turned her lovely face to the heavens, and looked to the stars for comfort. Her tears caught their glimmering light, and where they fell to the frozen ground, there a path sprung up. Glowing with all the lights of both sun and moon, star and rainbow, and the light of Morwen’s heart, the path stretched upwards – up and up and up – right up to the stars themselves. And as Morwen watched, amazed, there came a people down this trail of heavenly light. From the stars, from another world beyond the stars, her tears had called to these children of her heart. They were our ancestors, the Vantha – Morwen’s children – come to be her company and live in the world she made for them – the frozen north. They came to comfort her and be led by her and to live under her protection, always. She loved them with all her heart – more than she could ever have loved Sivah – and we loved her in return, for she made life possible in the ice and snow. As a reminder of where we came from, Morwen placed the star path in our eyes, so we will never forget who we are, no matter where we roam.

And when Leth and Sina had completed their first dance and the seasons were created, they asked Morwen if she would share a time with lovely Sivah. But she refused, and said she would not so much as touch him now that she had her children to care for and to love. So Leth and Sina asked Bala and Tivaku to step between Morwen and her former lover, so that winter and summer might never come face to face, but always there must be Spring and Autumn, for the one to retreat to their own abode, before the other steps forth.”

Abruptly, he held out the shirt to Vanos. “Try this on. If the length is right, I will see where to cut it so it will open up the front – and then I’ll take the sleeves out. Or maybe just one? That might look unique.” He stretched his back and added, “After we are done, would you like to get something to drink? The stout at the Stranger is pretty decent.”
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[The Raster Market] Break The Ice [Syllke]

Postby Vanos Strongarm on September 17th, 2011, 1:49 am

The story was fascinating to Vanos, a story that took some time to fully comprehend in his mind as he attempted to translate all the words properly and try not to interpret the words incorrectly or lewdly. He wasn't a particularly jealous man but he was envious of the way that the Vantha could tell a simple story in such an elaborate and perfect way; the way everything wove together perfectly from beginning, middle to end. The way that Vanos told his story just a few minutes ago made it appear as if a child had constructed the story and spewed it out of the lips of a man made of solid, unemotional rock.

He smiled as he listened to the story and was completely enthralled by, ignoring the work that the Vantha was doing on the shirt and the alterations that were done to the huge piece of fabric that would have to cover the huge frame of he Isur. Vanos snapped back to reality as the shirt was held out for him and he regarded it curiously as he looked to the shirt then back over to Syllke at the thought of having something as unsymmetrical as having one sleeve on and the other off.

"Not sure about sleeve. What purpose that serve? For look?" Vanos said as he "wiggled" his broad frame into the newly tailored shirt, his form having less difficulty than when he was trying to take it off moments before. The shirt hugged his body perfectly, the hem of the shirt rested just below his waist at the perfect length and everything else seemed to fit him just as if an Isurian tailor had made it.

After inspecting the shirt, as best as he could on his bed, Vanos smiled over to Syllke as he shook both of his arms and rolled his big shoulders back.

"Fit good. Very good. Not as good as bare, but good for clothing vearing."
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[The Raster Market] Break The Ice [Syllke]

Postby Syllke Skyglow on September 20th, 2011, 4:03 pm


Syllke shrugged. “It would look interesting – no other purpose than that. Just to be a bit . . . different.” Unique and different were terms that appealed to Sylke, more than bizarre – which had been often enough applied to his works. He stood up, smoothing the material down over the Isur’s incredibly hard and broad chest. “But I can take them both out, no problem. OK, off again.” The last was a soft command that Vanos obligingly acquiesced to, wiggling once more to get the shirt over his head. Syllke grabbed the new made hem and gave it a good yank, as much to test his craftsmanship as to help the Isur, and with the garment in hand he sat cross legged on the bed again.

“Well,” he began, speaking around the needle he held carefully in his teeth as he pulled out a length of thread. “If you can’t tell me about the Isur, can you tell me about Izurdin? Does he have a wife, or a lover?”

With the needle threaded, Syllke picked up his scissors and cut once more, taking out the two sleeves, and then one bold cut right up the front, to turn the shirt into a vest.

“Oh, hang on.” He said, standing once more and taking the spool of thread to draw it around Vanos’ larger arm, at the shoulder and arm pit. “I guess I’ll just make both holes the same size in each side, as we’re going for symmetry and not creativity.” He grinned, pulled gently on the Isur’s earlobe in a friendly, teasing way, and sat once more to begin the last alterations.



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