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 Posted: Sun Nov 16, 2008 5:42 pm
What a pretty Parus! ...oh, wait. What? That's a LANI? What in Noctua is it doing with a non-combatant? How does he control it? How did he get it? Who was the idiot Keeper who traded it to him? Wh-- how bizarre. Your task, should you choose to accept it, is to explain this strange and unlikely pairing through a roleplay prompt and/or character form (if you intend to RP in the long term). The contest will remain open until Dec 5th, at 7pm EST. Entries will be judged based on originality, fitting within the world, writing quality, and je ne sais quoi. Being all wacky and weird is NOT going to help you win - we're more interested in originality and appropriateness for the setting. Contest rules:- If you win this Sentinel he (and his companion) are completely free of charge.
- This Sentinel MUST remain in a non-combatant or support task.
- Non-combatant tasks: Apothecary, Artisan, Bard, Crafter, Keeper
- Support tasks: Forester (coming soon), Medic, Minder, Teacher
- Unless strongly justified, no further customization is permitted.
- While we are not an RP-required shop, this is a RP based freebie and we would love it if you stayed to play!
- Proxies are NOT permitted.
- There is a limit of one entry per person, so submit your best entry.
- You may edit your entry up until the contest is closed for judging.
- You may play NPCs in this scenario if you need to, but the main part of the RP should be about the Sentinel and his companion.
Prompt: He is a non-combatant. His companion is a Lani, a species used almost exclusively by rangers, Elites, hunters, and other fierce combatant tasks. Option 1 - Explain through a brief flashback RP how this non-combatant came to be paired with the lani. Option 2 - Show the interaction (and utility) of this strange pairing through a 'typical night' roleplay post. Optional (highly preferred) - Complete the character form, below: [size=10][i][b]Part I – The Sentinel[/b][/i]
[b]Player: [/b]
[b]Name: [/b]
[b]Nicknames: [/b]
[b]Species:[/b] Sentinel of Noctua
[b]Age: [/b]
[b]Hatch Date: [/b]
[b]Type: [/b]Shadow
[b]Task: [/b]
[b]Personality: [/b]
[b]History: [/b]
[b]Territory: [/b]
[b]Mate: [/b]
[b]Companions:[/b] Yes
[i][b]Part II – Companions[/b][/i]
[b]Name: [/b]
[b]Species: [/b]Lani
[b]Age: [/b]
[b]Speech Ability: [/b]
[b]Intelligence: [/b]
[b]Skill: [/b]
[/size]
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Posted: Mon Nov 17, 2008 10:08 am
Option 2 Part I – The Sentinel
Player: Aurrie Beaues
Name: Smokerise
Nicknames: Smokey, ‘Ri
Species: Sentinel of Noctua
Age: Adult
Hatch Date: 11/7/200?
Type: Shadow
Task: Artisan
Personality: He’s rough, tough, and ready to take on anyone… Or, well, most anyone in need of a serious dye job. Oh, but he’s still rough and tough! Definitely don’t forget that when you come to visit this most reluctant Artisan, otherwise you might leave with a few feathers missing and an unsightly splatter of bright paints on your backside. Just because he landed in this task doesn’t mean he couldn’t be an Elite if he really wanted to. He just has other things occupying his time right now. And he probably will, forever, seeing as he is devoted to his work, after all. Someone has to dye this forest properly, so he has to do it.
Even from his fledgling nights, Smokerise fantasized about the day he would graduate. In his young mind, he was going to be the fiercest warrior that had ever lived, just like the great Wildwing! He even had it in his mind to pronounce that he would be the greatest warrior ever when it was time to pronounce his task! Of course this was all a fantasy formed in the hefty fledgling’s mind. He wanted to serve the clan in a proud combatant task, but his parents would have none of that. Much to his dislike, he found himself following in their wing flaps, as they had planned for him the moment he was hatched.
Even though he took on the family task reluctantly, he still takes great pride in his work and is rather skilled at what he does. He has the mind of an artist and goes through great pains to make sure every spot of dye is perfect and how he had planned for it to be. As much as he wishes he could be that fierce warrior on the front lines, he cannot completely deny the part of him that loves to create, as much as he tries to downplay it or pretend that it doesn’t exist. Of course, this doesn’t mean that he has to hide the warrior within…
History: Stormwind and Rainwash made sure he knew his lineage from the start, not that it was particularly clean of smudges or anything. He probably has a few aberrant relatives out there somewhere, but the focus was not on type, it was task. His parents were both Artisans who were born to a pair of Artisans, who were also born to a pair of Artisans. He often heard tales of his great, great grandmother, who participated in the war effort and helped to disguise sentinels with her dyes. This was probably the only reason he strove to perfect himself in the art of dying feathers, seeing as he was sure he had to be an Artisan, regardless of his wants for the future; he always felt a need to please his parents, so his dreams of being a combatant were irrelevant.
His fledglinghood was nothing out of the ordinary, with the exception of growing up surrounded with color, but all offspring of Artisans must go through that at some point in time or another. His parents were loving and kind, but made it a point to have their son dabble in their craft before he began to perfect other skills under the guidance of a teacher. They both worked from their territory, so they were able to teach him the basics from home, between customers. Every now and again they would have him stay at the Minder’s Enclave to give him some exposure to other fledglings his age, seeing as he was their only fluff.
After his graduation, which passed without him declaring that he would be the greatest warrior ever, he left the familiar spruces that had been his home for the majority of his short life. He acted as though his “liberation” was the best thing to ever happen to him, but he secretly was homesick for several nights as he tried to stake out his very own territory. After several poor attempts and missing feathers, he managed to win a small territory from an aging Wildtype and was rather proud after his victory. His neighbors are well aware of the circumstances, but he often bragged in other areas about how the Wildtype was larger and in his prime, rather than the smaller thing he really was.
The next goal he had set for himself was a little more difficult. He wanted to prove to the forest that he was a tough fellow that could be counted on... But how exactly would he prove that? Sure, he could hunt during the off season, but he wanted something with flair. He set his sights on obtaining a lani, which he had only seen a couple of times before. They weren't exactly common and any keeper would of been nuts to just give one away, especially to a brash, hot headed fellow like Smokerise.
He finally did find a keeper who bred lani and spent much time wheedling away at the middle aged Deep Woods. He pestered her, brought her food, pleaded, told her how far away his territory was from any enclave, but she wasn't exactly willing. It wasn't until he enlisted the aid of a Seeker to dig up some dirt on her that she reluctantly passed off a small charge to the eager Shadow, something that she might come to regret in the future.
Smokerise, however, was thrilled. He had his fierce companion and was sure that, if anything, would prove that he was not just an artist, but a Shadow to be reckoned with. He only realized how much work it would be after he brought little Bolt home and boy, does he have his talons full. On top of that, he'll be hunting for that Seeker for quite some time...
Territory: His small territory consists of a dead old oak southeast past the Swift Open River. It is a bit more on the isolated side, seeing as his choice in companion could possibly be dangerous to younger sentinels.
Mate: None
Companions: Yes
Part II – Companions
Name: Bolt
Species: Lani
Age: Young Adult
Speech Ability: 1
Intelligence: 5
Skill: Perhaps Bolt wasn’t the best choice for an Artisan. She’s quick, smart, and has the tendency to try and get her own way… Nearly all the time. Smoke often uses her to hunt for himself while he is busy working and she behaves while he is around… He acquired her while she was still rather young and she did develop a bond to him, but she isn’t exactly trustworthy around youngsters. Her speech is limited to a few words that she managed to pick up, one of which is ‘Ri, the easiest part of her master’s name to pronounce.
“Bolt!”
The lani visibly winced at the loud hoot that Smokerise delivered. The prey in her talons was clearly a skurri and it was clearly marked with paint that he had placed on it not too terribly long ago. Unfortunately one of his neighbors was going to be extremely unhappy… That was, if Brackerbee happened to see the little, brightly painted lani snag her beloved companion. If she didn’t, everything should be fine.
“Ri, Ri, Ri. Sar-ree.” The lani dipped her head and chattered away as she backed away from the deceased skurri. Of course she had intended on killing the annoying thing when she left the hollow earlier that evening, but she wasn’t about to admit to that. It was always easier to play dumb than to let Smokerise know exactly what she was going to do. Better to do it and apologize than to let him know it was intentional, after all. She did feel a little guilty for upsetting her owner, but the little rodent was just too obnoxious to live! It made too much noise and would always throw things at her when she went into Brackerbee’s territory, not that she was supposed to be there in the first place.
“Bolt, that was bad! Very bad! You don't hunt companions! Anything else but them! A squirrel, not a skurri!" The Artisan loomed over the smaller bird, but couldn’t help but to soften. All she had to do was turn her head a certain way or give him a sad or frightened look and… He disposed of the evidence with a quick flip of his Will. The skurri was in the air and down his beak within moments. At least he was no longer hungry and skurri was rather tasty.
“Just… Just don’t do it again, okay? If Brack saw you, she’ll have us painting her quid pro quo for the rest of forever. Besides, how can we paint her forever if we’re gonna be Rangers one day?” Smoke exhaled softly and with a hint of frustration, but he found it difficult to be angry with his beloved companion. Little did he know that the regret in her features was all an act. She really didn’t care that his neighbor would be angry. Oh, but the prospect of doing something other than being a guinea pig for feather dye was an interesting prospect. She’d like to spend more time flying out and about, instead of staying in this little patch of nothing.
“Kee-kee-kee, Ri. Fla-ee. She yammered on and lifted her small wings out to her side to express her desires, which the Shadow already knew.
“Not now! Once we finish dying. I’ve got this lovely shade of purple to add to your feathers. Come here, let me take care of that real quick. I just want to see how it will look.” He gave the companion a very light tug with his Will to tell her to come forward, which she did with much reluctance. How she hated this! The process was so slow, then there was the drying, and it also didn’t smell all that great! She wiggled and fidgeted as he applied the color he had been mixing while she was out hunting skurri. It was just a small price to pay, though, for riding her home borders of that annoying little tree rat.
The process felt like it had taken forever and the rather bored, unhappy lani stood with her wings open. She was still as she could possibly manage while she allowed the dye to dry. She learned from an early age that resistance was possible… But it only made him try even harder to keep her still and painted. Smokerise was admiring his work from a little further out on his limb and the light, warm breeze ruffled his feathers slightly.
“SMOKERISE!”
The sentinel flinched and cursed under his breath. That voice was all too familiar… Brackerbee must have finally noticed her skurri missing. He felt a bit of guilt down somewhere in his body, but his reaction did not express that. He fluffed up aggressively as the large Wildtype entered his territory.
Oh fun, just another night in this neck of the woods.
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Posted: Thu Nov 20, 2008 7:13 pm
Part I – The Sentinel
Player: Chikagi
Name: Goldenglow
Nicknames: Glow
Species: Sentinel of Noctua
Age: Adult
Hatch Date: 03/27/200?
Type: Shadow
Task: Featherstyler
Personality:
Goldenglow is a Sentinel raised by active and strong Combative-tasked parents. Through him, Goldenglow picked up traits and qualities that would indicate the attitude of a fighter. He is of modest size and modest temperament, though he carries himself proudly and confidently. With an air of vigor, his task at first seems ill-suited. Beneath his lush plumage he is an artist with the makings of a fighter, and in this way his drive to do what he loves is upheld by a persistent and strong spirit. Sociable and willing to help, he is glad to discuss any variety of topic he can while he works on a Sentinel’s feathers. He is interested in finishing a job and doing it to the best of his abilities, causing him to insist that his customers try out their wings and new looks before bidding them farewell.
History:
As a Shadow, Goldenglow always had a particular sheen to his plumage. He would constantly and carefully preen himself, his delicate beak moving over the dark feathers with the utmost care. His golden eyes would stare in wonderment at the markings of some Sentinels, causing him to marvel whenever their graceful wing-beats passed before him. Not only was he enraptured by the exquisite dye jobs, but the form and talents of the wearer held equal sway for him.
What caught his eye the most was the sheer power and skill that accompanied the combatant tasks’ flight. The way a Deepwoods Scout could navigate the denser foliage, or brave the open spaces, if only for a moment. Perhaps it was the command a regal Elite held, his dignified presence emanating while he surveyed the forest.
So many different ways a Sentinel’s character was apparent just by a mere glance! Perhaps this fellow, feathers unkempt, simply was careless and too unconcerned to upkeep his appearance. Though perhaps he did not care for such frivolous details, instead focusing on other issues more intently. A shabby appearance could indicate something about another’s character, and it was to this fine observation and sense of talented appraisal that Goldenglow focused himself.
His parents, both proud members of the Combatant tasks, displayed for him the satisfaction of a strong day’s work. It was, though not to the insult of the other tasks, Goldenglow’s private opinion that those who were willing to give all of themselves to their work -body and mind- were those most deserving of a sincere respect. He was an exceptional student, keen on learning whatever moves of flight or fight that he was taught. Finding great pleasure in this, he would practice incessantly, noting the subtle changes of wind on wing and adapting. It was through this rigorous past-time that Goldenglow began to pay closer attention to the careful arc of his wings or the difference a single feather’s placement could make.
He considered his options carefully. He longed to join the ranks like those of his parents, but his intrigue with the artistic details of flight would not cease from pulling his attention back. After much debate, Goldenglow had stumbled upon a solution that he deemed honorable to both his passions.
A Featherstyler. He would work and craft plumage to his liking. However, not abandoning his loyalty to the work of a Combatant, he had decided to specialize. His focus would be on what trimmings or tweaking would best aid a Sentinel in a demanding and rigorous task. Imping feathers here, or skimming others there. In essence, what optimizes performance while still not forgetting the aesthetic appeal?
Task decided, the young Sentinel set to work, practicing his techniques on himself and those willing to let their feathers become experiments. Though as to be expected, Goldenglow was new to his chosen task, and many did not feel comfortable allowing an inexperienced Shadow to tamper with their wings. Flustered in this set-back, Goldenglow could not experiment on this own feathers quickly enough for his liking, and in face of this dilemma, he had turned to the aid of a companion.
At first, he had opted for Parus. Truthfully, the small birds were excellent for testing dye patterns on, but when it came to performing the more intricate moves of a Combatant, they became confused and purposeless. Frustrated once more, he sat brooding in a tree thinking of a solution to his qualms. When the answer came to him he felt foolish as to not having thought of it sooner, excited he had leapt from his perch and began to search immediately.
What he was looking for, what he needed, was rare and hard to come by. Still, Goldenglow had to try. He needed to find a Keeper of Lani. The small and yet fierce companion suited his needs perfectly. They were intelligent, considerably less chatty than Parus, and had the natural ability for combative flight. He could test his work on their small wings, relating them to the larger scale of a Sentinel. They would be harder to control, but coming from a family of determined fighters, Goldenglow was no push-over. If anything, even a disruptive Lani, were to hinder the pursuit of his calling, he would have no qualms about taking the required methods to enforce his authority. He hoped it would never come to this, but his resolve remained unchanged.
He would obtain a Lani, and by combining his two passions, would then strive to better the form of flying to the highest degree he could, completing the beautiful dance between form and feather.
Territory: Goldenglow holds a modest territory slightly removed from the denser areas of forest. The area receives little traffic from passing Sentinels, save those seeking out his specialized skills. Occupying a large tree, this hollow sits directly above and across from a neighboring thorn tree.
Mate: ---
Companions: Yes
Part II – Companions
Name: Riftwind
Species: Lani
Age: Adult
Speech Ability: 1
Intelligence: 5
Skill: Riftwind, though she hardly speaks, is very competent at receiving and carrying out the orders Goldenglow gives her. She wings her way through the trees as Goldenglow pays careful attention to her flight patterns, adjusting and tweaking her wings until she flies to what he deems an exceptional level of ease. In addition to this, Goldenglow also dyes her feathers in a attempt to test his ideas before applying them to Sentinels.
RP Response
Option 1:
The Lani before Goldenglow regarded him skeptically. Her keeper, a gruff and very old Sentinel loomed behind her smaller form and appraised him as well. Goldenglow’s parents had pointed him in the direction of this Sentinel’s territory, and when he had arrived, he had politely perched on a tree just outside while waiting to be allowed in. After explaining his purposes, he was then escorted deeper into the territory and to a small thorn tree. The Lani’s keeper hooted a raspy command and suddenly this was how he had found himself being reviewed by the duo.
It wasn’t until the owner spoke that the stare-down had ceased, “This is Riftwind. She has been with me for some years now,” he explained slowly as Goldenglow listened, “However, my bones are weary with age and yet she still requires a stern eye.” He glanced down at the Lani and continued, “That is not to say she makes a poor companion. No… No indeed. She is very dependable and takes orders well, and has served me with what I believe to be her best ability.” The elder sighed thoughtfully and then turned to look at Goldenglow, “Do you truthfully think you can handle her, young one? As it happens, I do remember your parents. Clear-minded and strong folk, and I‘m sure they have raised no owl.” He flicked his ear tufts contemptibly at the insult.
Goldenglow did not speak immediately, but rather looked back to Riftwind and took in her small, fierce eyes. “By my parents, I do believe I can handle the responsibility a Lani requires. It‘s true, my work is strange and different from what she knows, but I think she will fit my purposes nicely, and that I will put her to good work.” He paused, satisfied with what he had said, “The decision rests with you.”
Shifting on his perch, the older Sentinel nodded, “Riftwind, I have one final order for you.” The small Lani bobbed her head slightly in reply. “You are to go with Goldenglow and serve him in whatever way he requires of you. Is that understood?” Another bob in reply from Riftwind. “Good.”
Goldenglow felt his chest swelling with pride and had to make a conscious effort to keep a serious attitude. “Thank you sir, I hope the goods I have given you will suffice as payment? That an my sincere gratitude.”
“Yes, they will do, but do not forget, it is not for that reason that I allow you to have her. I am confident you will look after her and keep her under a stern but fair command. If you find me mistaken, do not hesitate to bring her back.”
“You have my promise, and again, a thousand thanks.” Goldenglow bowed his head respectfully.
Riftwind had hopped over closer to him and now gazed intently up at him again. While he looked back, he hardly noticed the departure of the older Sentinel, “So, Riftwind, I am Goldenglow. Come, let me show you your new home.”
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Posted: Tue Nov 25, 2008 2:31 pm
Part I – The Sentinel
Player: Ryugen
Name: WinterRiver
Nicknames: River
Species: Sentinel of Noctua
Age: Adult
Hatch Date: 11/25/??
Type: Shadow
Task: Crafter
Personality: Creative
History: The son of a Hunter and a Keeper, River is the only one of his parents broods not to take after either of his parents in any regard, choosing a Crafters path instead, although his creative mind could have served him just as well in a more military career, since he believes there is no shortage of Sentinels that are, or would be, exceedingly skilled at defending their homes if given a chance, but that to be really creative is a more rare skill. His Gatherer mother attempted to convince him to do otherwise, to follow in her footsteps, and even his Keeper father has attempted to sway him with the gift of a highly unusual companion for a Basket maker, but River has never been swayed from his opinions yet.
Territory: A shaped tree near the water's edge, where he can locate plenty of vines, willow and other bendable branches to use in his basket craft. He has also been considering using thorny branches to make snares or traps as well, but hasn't had this discussion with Willow yet.
He does however, often speak to her, though per the nature of the breed, she rarely if ever speaks back, though he insists it helps him to think.
Mate: None yet.
Companions: Yes
Part II – Companions
Name: Willow
Species: Lani
Age: Adult
Speech Ability: 1
Intelligence: 4
Skill: Named for the beautiful, but whip fast way a Willow branch can get out and deliver a sharp smack, Lani is at best an strange companion for her partner, but they make an unexpectedly good pair, forcing River, who would otherwise be prone to distraction in his craft, to remain focused, and also keeping his resources safe from purposeful or inadvertent destruction, though she has been known to take down the occasional companion, and then play innocent, few who've seen either the Lani or her master in action tend to fall for the act, especially when it only seems to happen to particularly tasty looking companions.
RP prompt:
"Stop fussing, you look lovely." He chided the Lani, who was preening at her dyed feathers in aggravation, which earned a filthy look from the small, dangerous bird, though little else as the Shadow Sentinel, also resplendent in similar dyes, worked his will on an basket, making sure it was both sturdy and slightly decorative, using a combination of light and dark branches to create a subtle pattern.
"I know you don't find it terribly subtle, but I think it fits you rather well. Such a pretty thing, like a little trap basket." He praised, turning an eye on her in admiration. "Besides the easier you are to mistake for a Lani at a distance, the fewer questions I have to answer... And of course the closer you might be able to get to dinner, or some of those idiot pests that keep ripping up my supplies.
I mean making baskets out of, oh, pine needles is I'm sure all wonderful and lovely, but totally useless. I mean we could make you a basket if you wanted..." He offered, glancing up from his work to study the Lani again.
"No." She huffed, fluffing her brilliant feathers out at the very idea of toting around a basket. Her thorn tree was plenty good for storing things without baskets. Baskets were for Sentinels who had to much stuff anyway.
"You're sure?" He coaxed, teasingly.
"No!" A hop this time for emphasis, staring at WinterRiver.
"You're not sure?"
He was teasing, damn it! As if it was funny!
"No!!" She huffed, hopping up and down some more as the Sentinel made an amused noise. Ohhh he just thought he was so funny.
"That's got to be your favorite word hasn't it?" He noted, eyes twinkling with amusement.
"No." An impish tone this time, as she tilted her head. Two could play at this game.
"Oh?" He asked, playing along as he paused in his basket weaving. "What is it then?"
"Food." She added, with a flip of her tail as she dived from the hollow where River was working and plunged after a mouse, WinterRivers amusement following her as she went.
"No companions!" He shouted after her, in warning.
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Posted: Thu Dec 04, 2008 11:19 pm
Part I – The Sentinel
Player: Baniru
Name: Tansy
Nicknames: Tans
Species: Sentinel of Noctua
Age: Adult
Hatch Date: 10/2/200?
Type: Shadow
Task: Keeper
Personality: Like his name might suggest, Tansy is a bit of a doormat in the personality department. While not outwardly wimpy, he is easily conned, guilted, or simply forced into situations, giving him the distinct air of a wishy-washy pushover- and really, half the time it's his own fault, because the word "No" does not seem to be in his vocabulary. He's so nice and so taken advantage of that it's gotten to the point of ridiculousness... or at least he thinks so.
History: Tansy's past was relatively normal and uneventful for a Sentinel. He grew up fussy, raised by overbearing parents, who (knowing his featherweight nature) eventually pushed him to become a Keeper, something that would require less communication with others than it would with Companions. Something that, hopefully, Tansy could handle.
And handle he did. While the Shadow is not The Greatest Keeper That Ever Lived, he is very happy and dedicated to his task, and would not have it any other way. Currently, he keeps Parus, and breeds them for their song.
Territory: A cluttered hovel that used to resemble a tree, a long ways from the Deep Woods. People have shoved off so much leftover junk onto Tansy that his home, while having enough space to breed and keep his Parus healthy, is swimming in unused knick-knacks. He plans to clean it up eventually... someday... in the future, maybe.
Mate: None
Companions: Yes
Part II – Companions
Name: Bitterbrush
Species: Lani
Age: Adult
Speech Ability: 1
Intelligence: 5
Skill: Beyond trying (and failing) to not eat the Parus, Bitterbrush is usually asked to do menial jobs such as hunting, or simply surveying the landscape. The Lani is very crafty, and while he listens to Tansy to a degree, he often does his own thing inbetween.
Prompt (1):
"That's not a Parus."
"Looks like a Parus to me," said an elder Keeper- much too old for his Task, and it was obvious his eyesight had been going for awhile. The old Sentinel was squinting from behind a gaggle of Parus all dyed the same yellow and blue, in different alternating patterns.
Tansy had come asking for a trade some time ago- he brought one or two of his better birds, hoping that such an old and respectable Keeper could give him something nice in return. And besides, it was the only other person he knew within a reasonable distance that bred the little chip tufts.
"PARUS!" the Lani screeched from where it was perched on a mock branch, and leaned forward.
"Sir, that can't be a Parus..." Tansy was leaning back as far as possible, staring uncomfortably at the bird- who's beak, by now, was almost in his face.
The older Keeper was pretty adamant.
"Sounds like a Parus," he said confidently, and went back to looking at the ruckus near his talons- all of which were cute and friendly and not screeching PARUS, and had been twittering in song for some time now.
The Shadow could not believe this was happening. He thought to make the best of it, edging away.
"Are you really a Parus... ?" he mumbled to the Lani, ever hopeful, "Can you... can you even sing?"
The Companion only tilted its head, silent- and then, as if caught by a better idea, flew down from its perch and began terrorizing the gaggle of smaller Companions below. The songs of the Parus suddenly turned into cries of Eat! Eat! Eat!
The elder Keeper clucked dissapprovingly, raising his feet every now and then, trying not to step on any that happened to be fluttering by in a rush. There were Companions scrambling everywhere, feathers flying.
"Now Bitterbrush, behave! Bitterbrush, don't do that, they're your fellow bird! Bitterbrush!"
Tansy only watched in abject horror as the Lani eventually got hold of one of the Parus and dragged it off skillfully, out of sight- as if it had been rehearsed. The elder Keeper sighed.
"He's a bit hungry," he said ruefully, and turned back to shepherding the other (now ruffled) birds into a different area.
"PARUS!" The Lani screeched, hopping back up on its perch.
It wasn't until Tansy moved to leave without anything in talon that the elder Keeper yelled from wherever he currently was, as if sensing the Shadow's intention.
"Thanks for taking him!" his voice drifted up and away, over the songbirds- very old. But it held a spark of cunning, and it was starting to get obvious that the old Sentinel was doing this on purpose. Wasn't he?
Tansy shifted backward, and the Lani shifted forward.
".. I'm not taking you!" he said, and shuffled away further. Bitterbrush hopped a step closer, tilting his head to look at Tansy with a beady black eye.
"PARUS!"
There was no escape.
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Posted: Mon Dec 08, 2008 7:21 am
Part I – The Sentinel
Player: Scaramouche Fandango
Name: Onionbloom, formerly known as Black Mesa
Nicknames: Onion
Species: Sentinel of Noctua
Age: Young Adult
Hatch Date: 19 April
Type: Shadow
Task: Bard
Personality: Onion is a magician. No, really! Ever since he was young, he had a great knack for making things disappear, using his Will to, at first, simply hide them under a branch or in his feathers. He’s also pretty lazy, and tricky, yet to his friends he’s as loyal as can be. However, if you aren’t a friend... you’re quite simply a stooge. He cares little for the repercussions of his actions towards other Sentinels, and he always tries to shake off the blame for his misdeeds. He’s not evil, mind you, but his moral compass, well... it doesn’t point North any more, that’s for sure. He’s very fond of small creatures, and maintains as much a vegetarian diet as he can, because he doesn’t like to think of things in pain. Which makes having Garlic around a whooooooooooole lot of sense.
History:
Onion grew up with a different name, though it’s not important what that was anymore. He was a spoiled little thing, the oldest of his parents’ children, and always got his way without having to throw tantrums. He was a classic little scamp, always “borrowing” things and conning other fledglings into doing things for him. When he graduated, he’d been so shiftless as a youth that he was pretty much naturally a Watcher. Cheerily enough, he accepted the role, for as he saw it, it was about the laziest thing you could be- it would give him ample time to practice before hitting the entertainment scene as Noctua’s premier prestidigitator. While he watched nothing happen, he practiced his magic tricks, getting better and better until he was creating his own. He had a dream trick- he wanted to turn a Parus into a fierce Lani, but this never came to pass, until he began to Watch a Lani keeper. He was fascinated by the fierce birds, and wanted one of his own.
But what kind of Lani keeper gives a Lani to a Watcher?
The kind that doesn’t exist, that’s what kind.
So, he stole one. It was just a little one, and after careful watching and waiting, it was pretty easy to nab. He waited until daytime to do the deed, when both the Lani and the Keeper would have little idea what was going on. He knew the rudiments of taking care of a baby bird, and so the gangly little thing grew up under his care. He was very strict- he knew exactly what he’d gotten himself into, stealing this thing, and Garlic listens to him... most of the time. He also knew that he’d have to get the heck out of Noctua, so to speak, for the Keepers would be furious if they found out what he did. A quick name change and some self-applied feather dye to disguise his most vibrant identifying marks, and presto! Far to the south appeared Onionbloom the Magnificent, greatest illusionist ever known to Noctua. He’s waiting until his name fades from rumors in the Keepers’ inner circle to return to his old neck of the woods.
Territory: He’s still in hiding in the far Not-Cold-at-All-Seriously reaches...
Mate: None
Companions: Yes
Part II – Companions
Name: Garlic
Species: Lani
Age: Young
Speech Ability: 1
Intelligence: 5
Skill: It’s absolutely wonderful at being a Lani... and turning into and out of a Parus...
Side note: Onion has no idea what gender this thing is.
Onion was sulking. Flat-out sulking, embarrassing behavior from a Sentinel his age, but nobody was around to see him. It was that Keeper’s fault he was sulking, anyways. He needed a Lani, and he intended to get one. However, that Keeper simply wouldn’t give in to his requests! He didn’t understand- he begged, wheedled, pleaded... but no matter. She wouldn’t budge.
Then he got an idea.
He got a horrible, awful idea.
It would work, if his timing was right. He’d be a persona non grata for a while, but he’d have his Lani, and really, who cared about the Deep Woods anyways? The Not Cold was where it was at, when you thought about it.
He had no personal grudge against the Keeper; perhaps it was irresponsible to trust a Lani to just any old Watcher. They were vicious birds sometimes. But surely he wasn’t an Ordinary Watcher; no, he was a Special Watcher! He had Charisma! He could charm any Sentinel in the forest, and no Lani was as smart as the dumbest Sentinel, nor was it as impervious to his charms as the weakest of them.
The pouch was ready- it was a special bag, a double layer of leather and padded with thistledown. He was told it was used for transporting vials of liquids by Medics or Apothecaries; tonight it would transport something he viewed as far more precious. The leather would keep the hatchling quiet, he hoped- the padding would keep it still. He’d stalked this nest long enough to know exactly which fledgling he wanted- the quiet one that always ate last. It didn’t fight as much as its siblings, so he assumed that it would be easier to tame.
Carefully, he squeezed the baby’s downy wings to its body with his Will, gently running a metaphysical tendril over the back of its neck to soothe it. It attempted to squawk in alarm, but he willed its beak shut. He could feel it thrashing against his touch; it was strong, for such a little thing, but he was stronger.
He wrapped the straps of the bag tightly around his foot, gripping the precious cargo softly in his toes, then dove awkwardly off the branch and flew as fast as he could towards the Not Cold regions. He had to get out of town fast, because he knew that there would be all kinds of Sentinels after him if he got caught with the baby Lani. It was daytime, and he was tired, to be sure, but this was pretty much his only option. If anybody asked, he supposed he could say he was taking medicine to a sick relative. Surely somebody in his family had to be sick, right? Occasionally, he’d stop to check his passenger. Sometimes the Lani was furious, writhing against its captivity. Other times it slept fitfully, soon to be awakened by rage. Ah, well, it wouldn’t remember this when it was a grown bird, performing in his magic shows and being perfectly loyal to him and him alone.
He hooted gleefully, like a spoiled fledgling. Just like always, he’d gotten exactly what he wanted.
Time would tell if it was exactly what he deserved.
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