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 Posted: Mon Oct 18, 2004 9:07 pm
In an alcove set a bit away from everything and down a small embankment, is where Kryssik dwells. He purposely picked this particular place due to the longer-than-usual tunnel one must pass through to reach it and the fact that the echoes from outside carry well.  Room 1 Greeting Room/Dining Area: The first room one comes to when entering Kryssik's lair. It is sparsely-furnished with a sturdy table being its most noticeable feature where meals are eaten and conversations are had. Room 2 Kitchen Area: Past a shroud of leaves is Kryssik's kitchen where he stores and prepares his food. Pushed against the wall is an elongated table riddled with clay jars of crumbled herbs, dried meat, and a small washing bowl. Just to its right is a firepit which is mostly kept tamed to glowing embers, providing the lair with heat when it is not being used to cook. Aside from a basket used to discard bones and barrels in which dried fruits and preserved kills are kept, there is nothing else noteworthy here. Room 3 Master Bedroom: This is where Kryssik rests at night. He favors a larger bed due to his tendancy to toss and turn in his sleep and it keeps him from tumbling to the floor. At the foot of the bed is Kryssik's reading nook where he keeps his fiction collection. He has likewise placed a purple crystal here as he finds purple a soothing color and its presense helps him to relax. Room 4 Sitting Room/Guest Room: The sitting area is where guests are brought to make them comfortable. It likewise doubles as a spare bedroom, should the need arise. There are plenty of comfortable places to sit and a bookcase full of history books. ....yeah, Kryssik's such a party animal rolleyes Hidden Alchemy Lab Room? You saw no room ninja : One of the reasons Kryssik chose a much-bigger-than-necessary lair for himself was to draw attention away from the fact that there might be an extra room floating around he didn't want anyone to visit. To access it, one must push aside the bookcase in the Sitting Room. Inside, is a messy workstation and enough dangerous herbs and plants to take out a small army...but fear not, for Kryssik plans to use them for only one purpose -- the construction of a single potion. In the event he finally gets it right, he plans to empty out the contents of the laboratory and turn it into a room for a potential Kweet-friend. He has put his bathing tub in here for two purposes -- one, a hot bath is the quickest thing to soothe him after a solid evening of failures and frustration, and two, in the event of spilling something caustic on himself, he can wash it off immediately. You will note he has THREE calming crystals in here, and believe you me, they're necessary.
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Posted: Mon Oct 18, 2004 9:08 pm
 
Name: Kryssik (Krih-sick)
Nicknames: Sik, Krys. Quiet One
Date of Birth: ???
Parents: ???
Siblings: ???
Color: dark green
Markings: lighter green stripes with triangular spots in the collarbone/forehead region
Hair Color: White with faint tints of olive
Eye Color: Crimson
Talents: ruining potions, whistling complex melodies in leiu of singing
Mate: N/A
Children: None
Weapon Of Choice: N/A
Attire: No clothing yet
Favorite Colors: Indigo, aqua, green, blue
Favorite Foods: beets, honey, tomatos, kelp-wrapped bluegills
Favorite Sound: lapping water on the shore
Favorite Weather: Gentle summer rainfalls
Favorite Scents: Leather, cooking meat, night air
Disorders: Mute (by paralysis of his vocal cords. He is unable to make any vocalizations at all. It is not an elective/selective variety)
Superstitions: Unknown
Languages Spoken: sign language, native language of the Fairy Dragons
Dislikes: Crowds, being made the center of attention, unnecessary focus on his lack of voice, not being able to speak, not being understood, being held back, potatoes, being bullied, people who make assumptions without research, being put on the spot, being harrassed
Fears: Being cast out, being hated, whales
Personality: Kryssik is very gentle and a bit skittish. He has a secretive nature, but is unable to uphold it very well as his first impulse when getting caught is to radiate guilt and apology. He wants very much to be liked and to be accepted, but will not let anyone, friends or otherwise, get in the way of things he intends to get done that others may not approve of.
Kryssik is very goal-oriented and prone to obsession over things he feels strongly about, though is not reckless by any means. He will study a situation from all angles before deciding to involve himself with it, and resents when he is told that he's foolish for getting tangled in things he does not understand. Very likely, he understands them very well, and simply has his own ideas about them.
Unable to speak, Kryssik has become prolific in both writing and expressing his ideas through series of hand gestures. He's learned to be patient with other people in trying to get his ideas and statements across via these methods, but every fuse has an end. Prolonged misunderstanding or refusal to understand frustrates him. It is for this reason he wants so badly to restore his voice.
He is not immune to throwing occasional temper tantrums when he's finally reached his limits and is very reluctant to have others watch him cry. It makes him very uncomfortable to show weakness in the presense of those he doesn't know or trust exceedingly well. He is, in fact, very slow to trust, though he is quick to like people.
Background: Kryssik remembers nothing of where he came from or who his family once was. He has retained the knowledge of sign language, signifying that someone must have taught it to him and communicated with him in it at some point, and knows only that he's been roaming Orchestra since he could last remember with a single goal in mind -- to attempt to unlock his voice.
The only item in his possession when the blackness cleared was a worn page that looked to have been torn from a book. On it was transcribed the mixing methods and ingredients for a potion known as Siren Song which, according to description, was meant for unlocking the throats of sea nymphs who's voices had been stolen.
The mixture was unstable, the componants were deadly, but Kryssik knew that this could be the answer he had been looking for and that he must have been attempting to make it beyond his memory's allocation. He invested his time fully into the gathering of the ingredients and, time and time again, fed them into what would amount to be his miserable failures at alchemy.
He tried and failed so much, in fact, that the ingredients began to become scarse in the areas he normally obtained them from, forcing him to travel further and further into unfamiliar territory of Orchestra to get them.
One night, while trying a new area of the island for supplies, he ran into the first Fairy Dragon besides himself that he'd seen on Orchestra thus far.
This dragon, having introduced himself as Kismet, escorted him to an out-of-the-way cavern where a gathering of other dragons dwelled. He was invited to stay, and eagerly took up the invitation.
Adjusting to a social environment after spending so much time on his own was a jarring experience and Kryssik drew into himself, often finding himself intimidated or flustered by the others. However, he met a select few that he was willing to come out of his shell for -- Kismet had his immediate trust for having brought him here in the first place, and he also found comfort in the company of Pepper, a scribe dragon who shared his work ethic and fluency of reading and writing, and Homer, a younger blind dracling.
Despite his newly-formed friendships, however, Kryssik did not lose sight of his goal and, after setting up his lair to his liking, took special pains to likewise set up an alchemy lab where he could further his attempts to mix the Siren Song potion. To hide it from the others and keep it from troubling them, he narrowed the entryway to his laboratory to the point that it could easily be hidden behind a bookcase.
To date, only Kismet is aware of this place and his intentions with it. Kryssik begged secrecy from him and was granted it, though grudgingly. He feels, at the moment, that he is living with the others on borrowed time and that surely, if something should go badly wrong, it would not take long for his intents to become public knowledge. With that, would come attempts to stop him and talk sense into him...and in the event of that, he has promised himself that he will simply leave and not make a further burden of himself.
At the time, he has no specific interest in anyone, nor is love a big concern of his. He feels, if anything, it would complicate matters to have a mate and draclings underfoot while he tries to go about his work. On a deeper level, he's afraid of leaving people behind that would need him should, one day, his meddling with dangerous materials prove fatal.
Perhaps in the future he will run across someone who will change his mind.
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Posted: Mon Oct 18, 2004 9:09 pm
 
Name: Kapote (kay-POH-tee)
Nicknames: Kay
Date of Birth: 13/03/04
Parents: ???
Siblings: ???
Color: brown
Markings: aqua rounded stripes with spots
Hair Color: White with faint tints of aqua
Eye Color: Green
Talents: extreme patience, persistance, can touch her nose with her tongue (c'mon she takes her victories where she can get'em XD)
Mate: N/A
Children: None
Weapon Of Choice: N/A
Attire: No clothing yet
Favorite Colors: pastel rainbows
Favorite Foods: carrots, tomatos, fresh bread, warm apple pie
Favorite Sound: crackling fire
Favorite Weather: Warm summer evenings
Favorite Scents: Violets, baking bread, cinnamon
Disorders: none
Superstitions: Thinks shooting stars are lucky
Languages Spoken: native language of the Fairy Dragons, learning sign language
Dislikes: being walked away from, being ignored, being condescended to, liars
Fears: extreme heights (she's a low-flyer), spiders
Personality: Sweet-tempered and patient, Kapote tries to give her best side to people and expects their best in return. There is no way to annoy her faster than to lie to her about something whether its petty or crucial. While it will not lead her to hate you, it will make her less-likely to trust you in the future.
Likewise, she dislikes feeling useless, especially if she feels she can help and is being purposely excluded from a situation. If nothing else, THIS will get her hot under the collar the fastest and she will fall from her usually-sunny disposition to put the offending party in their place in a hurry. She has NO qualms whatsoever about telling someone when they're being unreasonable, and status and size is no object to her. If a burly three-heads-taller-than-her hunter makes her angry, she's just as likely to snap at him as she is to someone her own size.
Kapote is set in her own opinions and, while she will accept others' insight and respect their views without belittling them, isn't very likely to change her own and expects the same sort of respect from her friends.
Background: to be written
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Posted: Mon Oct 18, 2004 9:10 pm
  Mayumi shared one of her pies with myself and Homer a few days into my stay here. She is excellent with her cooking, and has offered to teach me as well.
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Posted: Mon Oct 18, 2004 9:11 pm
 ::friends:: ::Kismet::Very intelligent, able to recognize herbs and alchemy componants simply by their scent. Was the first dragon I've met here, and invited me to the main cavern, though I worry he may be a bit suspicious of me now. : razz epper::Cultured, friendly, second dragon I've met here. He invited me in for tea and gave me paper, a quill, ink, and a flat of leather for writing. Is supposedly one of the only other dragons able to write who dwells here. I would like to visit with him again soon. ::Kura::She appears to be Pepper's sister. Like Pepper, she seems pleasant and low key with the ability to write. I met her on the beach with some of the others while foraging. She seemed a bit nervous, I wonder why? I hope she was feeling well. ::Homer::A younger dragon. He does not have use of his eyes, much in the way I do not have use of my voice. It seems to vex him just as badly as it vexes me, but we were able to find common ground and talk for a bit. I believe he's my newest friend. Perhaps if others made more of an attempt to know him, he would not be as sad. ::Mayumi::At first meeting, I did not think she enjoyed my company, but we met again shortly afterward and it was much more pleasant. She gifted me with a pie and it brings me to the conclusion that I really should teach myself to cook at some point. Roasting meat and drying berries only sates an appetite so far.
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Posted: Tue Oct 19, 2004 1:11 am
(reserved for companions)
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Posted: Tue Oct 19, 2004 1:14 am
 This is both a diary and a roleplay thread. If you would like to visit Kryssik, you are welcome to come here. He will occasionally make posts in first-person, usually after an encounter or event of some sort, detailing his thoughts on matters. Roolz 1. Please do not metagame in Kryssik's home. His laboratory is hidden, please do not be DeeDee to his Dexter and come running in inexplicably knowing about the trick bookcase and shoving it aside to meddle in things. If such chance arises in RP that you might discover the lab or that Kryssik might show it to you, so be it. 2. If you'd like to RP here, please don't fill up pages with "*waits* *Sits* *wonders where everybody is*". If I'm not here, I can't answer you. Leave one message, I'll answer it once I notice it. 3nodding 3. Kryssik's diary entries are private and, though they are available for you (OOC) to read, do not assume he's wallpapering his home in them. He hides his diary rather well which would make it hard for your dragon to stumble across it, ergo the thoughts and opinions expressed in said entries are not public knowledge, so please don't use them against him in RP sessions. 4. Please turn your sig off when leaving messages in here. Nothing personal, it just keeps things looking tidy ^^;;
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Posted: Wed Oct 20, 2004 8:01 am
 Places To Visit Safrinni's Shelf -- The diary of my adopted Ieldi. The center is currently on-hold, as is my journal. You won't find much there until things get going again sweatdrop Raven and Kendall's Nursery -- The home of mine and Youkochylde's GMFC twins. Raven and Kendall are nightmareishly-hyper little kiddos who, unfortunately, are going to grow up just like their mom and dad. And people wonder where Karma's eye picked up that twitch it has... >>; My Feien Fairies Diary -- Easily one of my most extensive and updated diaries. I am the caretaker for several feien fairies, all with their own neorosis and strengths. It makes for interesting household living, if nothing else.
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Posted: Wed Oct 20, 2004 8:02 am
(annnnnd one more for good measure)
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Posted: Wed Oct 20, 2004 8:51 am
 Kryssik's Notes It is now three days since I've come to this place and much has happened since. I've just now finished situating my new home in one of the lesser alcoves where I will not be in anyone's way.
The dragons here are very good to one another, from what I've seen thus far. Their bonds are strong, but not so strong that they will not welcome newcomers into their fray as I was afraid they may not. While I do not feel "at home" yet, I do feel at least that I will not be ousted.
The first dragon I met was called Kismet. He is the local medic and a father of at least one child that I am aware of. Our first meeting was a bit turbulant and, though we've lapsed into friendly terms since, I still have the feeling he's a bit wary of me. That, and to complicate matters, I think he may be aware of my intentions.
Or perhaps he assumes something entirely different which may be even more dangerous for me. All he made known was that he was aware of the herbs I was carrying and what they are capable of. I am well-aware that they are potent enough to kill in minutes if handled wrongly, but I have never and do not intend to handle them with anything other than the greatest care.
I hope that he doesn't think, even for a moment, that I would intend to use any of these on anyone other than myself and for my single purpose. I have full intent of throwing every last bit of this stuff away without a second glance once my questions are answered and most hopefully, my problem has been solved.
It is amazing how one can be born with a problem and never learn to live with it. I can't remember a time that I was able to accept my lack of a voice as a "blessing of uniqueness". I do not care who says otherwise, it is a curse. Now that I am among so many others, it is a bigger curse than before. I hear their voices constantly. Yelling, laughing, singing, talking. It makes me wonder even more what my own sounds like and why it is I've been doomed never to hear it.
But that will change. I think I have gathered enough ingredients to last me a winter's worth of attempts, and once I've finished stocking food for the colder months, I will be back to my endless attempts. Maybe it won't be as bad this time. I have the material to take notes and a quiet place to work. It will not be as hectic as having to travel to the cove every time I have gathered enough for another attempt. I have a bit of organization now.
I think I am on the verge of a breakthrough. Whether it is a good or a bad one, I do not know.
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Posted: Thu Oct 21, 2004 2:43 am
Quote: Today was eventful. I am not sure if it was a good sort of eventful or not. On the bright side, I have made two new friends, but on the darker side, everything seemed to fall apart roughly at the time that I decided to go out and forage.
It appears that I am not the only dragon in residence with a disability as I had the pleasure of meeting a youngling by the name of Homer. He was born blind and takes it just as badly as I take my being born mute. In fact, it appears as though he's resigned himself to sitting alone without attempting to be around the others, deciding they have all cast him out.
Speaking to him, or speaking to him as much as I could manage, at least, seemed to make him feel better. If only he were not so quick to blame himself for things. Having had the advantage of having more time to adjust to my own shortcoming, I would like to help him in any way I can.
That is why, tonight, I spent likely more time with my eye out for a good potential walking stick than I did actually gathering. In the end, I managed to come away with both a full satchel of fish, roots, and fruit, -and- a branch that I believe can be made into a decent walking stick for Homer.
Granted, at his current size, it would be moreso of a staff. Perhaps he will grow into it. I have broken all of its branches off and it is currently sitting over the firepit to bleed out its sap and dry. If it has made good progress by the time I wake, I will see about knifing off its sharp edges and smoothing it.
My only hope is that Homer is not offended by this gift as it is directly linked with his blindness. I want only to help and the best thing he can do for himself is to stop letting others faun over his disability and get on with his life as best as he can. As a dracling, I learned that pity only extended so far and that flailing my arms and throwing silent tantrums only got me what I wanted sparingly, if at all.
Learning to talk in other ways was difficult, but the best investment of time I have ever made. Hopefully Homer will find other ways of seeing.
I also met with Mayumi who shared one of her pies with Homer and I, and we spoke briefly. She seemed distracted by other things and I didn't wish to pry at her. Perhaps we will meet again under less-distracted circumstances in the future. She's offered to teach me to cook and that would be much-appreciated.
Kura also visited briefly, though I'm afraid it was not under the best of circumstances. She attempted to make friends with Homer, and it ended badly. Homer was offended by her methods and she, in turn, was offended by his outburst. I suppose it was hatchling-like of me to choose a moment of dischord to make my exit, but I did truly feel badly for both and it was hard for me to watch.
I hope that Kura found comfort in someone last night and likewise that Homer's mother was able to calm him. They are lucky to have such people who would try. As for myself, I do not think I have anyone who would. Granted, it is not my nature to make my sadness or anger known publically, but sometimes I envy those who have a constant shoulder to cry on.
Perhaps one day that will change. At the moment, however, I am more interested in fixing my problem. I find it impossible to believe that I could be loved the way I am, even when told flat-out. I am quite sure that is my own major malfunction but its what I have come to believe, sadly.
My personal storage barrels are nearly filled and the fish I have caught are currently pickling. Tomorrow, if I manage to top them off, I will join the others in their foraging and make myself useful. I feel badly that they've invited me to stay with them and I have done nothing so far except laze about and converse.
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Posted: Fri Oct 22, 2004 3:38 am
*FWOOSH!*
Had Kryssik a voice, he would have squealed in surprised pain as he recoiled from the table, wiping at his face before any of the hot tendrils of sludge that had come from his latest failed attempt could further burn his skin. He gritted his teeth as this didn't seem to be helping and the goo, instead, adhered to his fingers, beginning to burn them as well.
Half-stumbling, half-running, he shambled across the small room-turned-lab and hurled himself into the invitingly cool water of his bathing tub. He remained submerged for a long moment before his head slipped above the surface of the water, his white hair clinging to his face and shoulders in silvery commas and strings.
The burning, blessedly, had stopped and all that remained to tell the tale were a few purplish marks on his flesh that, with any luck, would fade by morning. Breath puffed through his nostrils, both in the aftermath of his adrenaline rush and in sheer angry frustration.
After eating dinner, he'd succombed to the urge to try out his laboratory and see if any new ground could be broken in his new workspace. Things seemed to have been going much faster for a bit...it was much easier to work by candlelight and not have to stop every few moments to shield his supplies from strong passing winds to keep them from blowing away. But with things going faster, he supposed he'd gotten careless somewhere along the line.
Kryssik glared spitefully at his workbench as though it was the one at fault and hefted himself out of the water, leaving a small puddle where he landed as he stalked across the floor and paused before the heap of dried herbs, bowls, and tangles of paper that littered the table. For a long moment, he was sorely tempted to knock all of it to the floor with a sweep of his arm and stomp it out of recognition.
In the end, he made himself calm, taking deep breaths and squeezing his eyes shut as he forced himself not to look at the alchemy materials. Little by little, the impulse to give up ebbed away, leaving him trembling a bit and feeling rattled.
Things would be fine, he promised himself. He wasn't giving up on anything, and furthermore, this would just be incentive to try harder tomorrow. When he, at last, felt he had a grip on himself again, Kryssik opened his eyes and looked at the workbench and its contents once more. The powdered and crumbled componants almost seemed to be mocking him as they laced his nose with their dangerously spicy aroma.
What if he DID finally get the potion to the ingestible stage and it was -still- wrong, he wondered? What would he do then? With as many toxic ingredients as would be blended together, surely it could kill him in a matter of minutes. And what would the others think? In all appearance it would look as though he'd intentionally poisoned himself.
His resolve began to waver again and this time, instead of looking away, his hand shot out, seizing up the quill Pepper had given him and dabbed it sharply into the inkwell. Finding an empty space on one of the pieces of paper on the top of the pile, he scribbled something before dropping the quill and leaving the laboratory briskly, deciding he needed some sleep.
Note -- Stir COUNTERclockwise next time. Ease up on stingtail venom
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Posted: Fri Oct 22, 2004 10:21 am
 RP that occurred October 22nd, 2004 "Mrrf." Kismet sighed.Kryssik emerged from his lair, not having slept longer than a couple of hours and looking a bit disheveled. His cheek still stung from where he'd been burned earlier, though the marks were all-but-faded now. He wondered if he would see Homer again today and be able to give him the walking stick he'd made him.Kismet watched from the high ledge within the lair where he had once kept his relics when they had been a much smaller collection. He had his arms folded over his knees and his tail curled around his waist. Kryssik was awake, it seemed. He sat quietly, partly tired, partly curious. Kryssik paused and looked about himself, finding himself alone...or what he assumed was alone. He'd learned that, in this place, someone always could be watching or approach you from a corner you hadn't seen them lurking in.
Oh well...just as well. He approached the dying embers of the fire and picked up a thicker piece of kindling, using it to prod at the glowing coals and scare up some semblance of flames before feeding the stick to them. He watched as the fire slowly engulfed it, reawakening as he tossed on a few more pieces of wood.
He hadn't appreciated just how well the inner alcoves the other dragons made their lairs in entrapped and absorbed heat until he came back into the drafty main chamber.Kismet closed his eyes and rubbed at an ache in his neck.
"Morning, Kryssik." Kryssik immediately turned his head toward the voice, flushing a little with embarrassment as he realized that his theory held water after all. One of the few places he hadn't looked and there was someone observing him from it.
Never the less, he smiled at Kismet and waved at him good-naturedly.Kismet rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen his wings a little, then flew down to sit crosslegged beside Kryssik. He also tossed another piece of wood on the fire. Then put an elbow on one knee and rubbed his temple with his knuckles.
"Let's get this fire going. I'm badly needing some coffee."
His tail was limp at his side for once, and his eyes were bloodshot, as if he'd either been crying or hadn't slept in ages. Then he reached for his left forearm and slowly turned the bracelet he wore. It was made of twisted silver links, with purple gemstones embedded into it. It had become a habit lately, and there was a reddish mark around his arm from all the turning. Kismet rolled his neck again, trying to get the kinks out.
"Kryssik, do you know who you are?"Kryssik picked up another longer stick and stirred the wood they'd tossed on, ensuring the flames would find it. He'd noticed Kismet's disheveled demeanor and assumed he had just awoken, much like he had.
At the query however, Kryssik turned his head to regard the blue curiously. What sort of question was that, he wondered? Taking into account that Kismet was beyond disheveled and looked downright bedraggled, Kryssik did not offer an answer.
Instead he turned himself toward Kismet and cocked his head slightly, urging him to elaborate on what he was talking about if he chose to. Kismet only smiled, a dark and sickly expression. Then rubbed at the back of his neck again, trying to rid himself of the ache. Kryssik's mouth drew into a thin frown as he reached out, touching Kismet's shoulder briefly before signing: Who I am? Or who think I could become? "Who you were...before the darkness." Kismet said slowly, dragging the question out. "So many dragons seem happy enough not knowing, not caring. But I just want to know who I was... I want to remember my childhood, who my parents were... All those things that the others still seem to have. I want to know why."
He rubbed his temple again. "Kryssik, can I confide something to you?"Kryssik, oddly enough, had come to simply accept that he did not and likely never would know his parents or the rest of his family. He was not precisely -happy- to forget it, but saw no point in harping on something if there was no sort of resolve to be had for it.
In response, he leaned in a bit closer and nodded. It wasn't as though he had anyone he could tell even if he'd wanted to. The few friends he'd met were little more than acquaintances in themselves and Kismet was really the only one he'd spoken to more than once and for any length of time. Kismet rubbed the bracelet on his wrist, wishing the fire would burn faster, so he could start the coffee. Oh, he needed it so badly.
The blue dragon looked sideways at Kryssik through disheveled silvery bangs. "It was a few weeks ago... Sunday told me that she remembered. She's known all along. And that someone with answers would be coming soon." Kismet looked away to the floor. "Since then, I've been watching every newcomer, waiting to see if they might be the one. I even thought it might be you. But I haven't told anyone else about this yet. I'm not really sure why... I've wanted this so badly for so long, but for some reason, now that I know it's coming, there's this fear deep inside me that I don't understand."Kryssik blinked slowly, digesting this. Someone would be coming with answers...? His immediate reaction to that wasn't precisely excitement, nor was it upset. Honestly, he wasn't sure HOW he ought to feel about it.
Turning away from Kismet for a moment to give the fire another jab, he then set the stick down to proceed to answer.
Perhaps you are afraid that knowing will change everything. That it will change you and who you have become. He paused a moment, his fingers curling a bit and hovering on the last signed word, wondering if that even made sense.
It seemed the most logical answer he could think of. If one had no recollection of who or why they were, they simply picked up and began again with what they had...perhaps turning out entirely different than they'd once been."Maybe...maybe." Kismet felt more uneasy talking about this, but he was still glad to finally get it out. He couldn't even talk about this with Ri, he didn't want her thinking he was losing his mind. She already thought his obsession with relics was silly.
The fire was good enough. "Mrrf." Getting up, he went to fill the kettle, and brought it back to boil by the fire. He managed a smile. "You like coffee, Krys?"Kryssik smiled back, though it was just as thin as Kismet's was. He didn't like knowing he wasn't being of much help.
He regarded the kettle and then nodded a bit. He could drink coffee just fine, though he preferred tea's milder taste. Given the situation though, he wasn't going to complicate things by being finicky. After preparing it, Kismet handed a cup to Kryssik. "I'm normally a hot chocolate sort, but I really needed this today." He took a long drink, letting the coffee warm him.
With a grin more of his usual self, Kismet glanced back to Kryssik. "So what have you been up to lately?"Kryssik accepted his cup and held it between his hands as he nodded his thanks, making no move yet to drink it.
At Kismet's question, he was suddenly very self-conscious of the faint burns on his cheek, though he did nothing to draw attention to them, setting the coffee aside for a moment to answer.
This and that. He replied cryptically. I have finally gotten my home to my liking. Gathering for winter otherwise. And you? He picked up the cup again, sniffing its contents briefly before taking a short drink. The brew was bitter on his tongue, making him wince just slightly."Glad to hear it. I've been gathering medicinal herbs for the winter. Still gathering food here and there as well." Kismet took another long grateful drink of his coffee.
As the drink began warming his blood again, he finally was able to focus clearly enough to get a good look at Kryssik's face. He frowned slightly in concern. "Krys, is that a burn on your cheek?" The green's hand went to his cheek, as though to cover the burn...or perhaps just to trace it with his clawtips. He closed his eyes and then looked away, signing with one hand: Doesn't hurt anymore. Wasn't bad.
He really was going to have to work on keeping a poker face better, he decided...he may as well wear a sandwich sign stating exactly what he'd been up to the way he'd reacted to Kismet's query. Kismet took his hand in a no-nonsense manner, and gently took it away from his cheek. He put his face next to Kryssik, and sniffed. He knew the smell of chemical burn. Thankfully nothing too serious, but that didn't stop Kismet from worrying about it. As if he didn't have enough to worry about.
He sat back with a sigh. "If it starts to sting, I can give you some cream that will soothe it." He looked at him levely, again wondering just what he should say. But he just shook his head. "Promise me you'll ask for help if you need it, alright?" Kryssik flushed with mild humiliation as Kismet pulled his hand away, but didn't struggle as the blue investigated his face. He'd just gotten careless at some point during the mixing, that was all. Part of the reason he'd been upset was because he knew he'd progressed to further stages than that without failure in the past...this had felt like a huge setback.
I will. he assured the blue, drawing away a bit more after Kismet had leaned back. I barely notice it now. On his hands, as the signed, there were much fainter burns from having tried to wipe at his face. Those didn't hurt at all as they hadn't had as much time to have contact with his skin.
I am being careful. He added after a moment. Very careful. I rushed and shouldn't have, that is all.Kismet smiled kindly. Gotcha. "Rushed what?"Kryssik's eyes snapped wide. Oh HELL...! He gritted his teeth and slapped his forehead, dragging his fingers down over his face and peering between them with exasperation.
Great...he was just batting a thousand today, wasn't he? Letting his hand drop into his lap, he fell into a troubled stillness then, except for his eyes which seemed to be debating, dividing their time between looking at Kismet in hunted glances and looking at the floor.
Perhaps it was because Kismet had already confided in him, that he decided what he did. If...if at least one person knew, if he SHOULD disappear for longer than necessary one of these days, that person would know where to look for him.
Biting his lip, he met Kismet's eyes fully, clenching a fist and then grudgingly beginning to sign with it. First promise me you will tell no one. And that you will not interfere. His eyes had become stern, feeling very strongly about this, obviously.Kismet's eyes, still tired, gave Kryssik a weary smile. "Of course I promise not to tell. But I'm a healer... I can only promise non-interference to a point. If you're doing something to hurt yourself, I can't make myself stand by and do nothing."Kryssik hesitated...and then, seeming satisfied with this, gave a nod, set his coffee aside, and got up from where he was sitting, motioning for Kismet to follow as he padded in the direction of his lair, all the while hoping desperately that he was not making a mistake as his stomach turned anxious sour flips within him.Downing the rest of his coffee, Kismet set the cup aside. His briefly whirring wings fanned the growing fire as he got to his feet. This was rather unexpected, but perhaps there could finally be an understanding. Maybe. Quietly, he followed after Kryssik. Looking over his shoulder, satisfied he was being followed, he led Kismet around a corner and disappeared into the mouth of the small alcove of his lair, pushing aside the brown curtain as he went. He made his way through his home to the Sitting Room where he paused in front of the bookcase, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting for the blue to catch up with him.Kismet had yet to enter a lair that was that long and winding. He tried to keep his tail under control to keep himself from hitting anything as he walked through. Finally he seemed to come to a dead end, where Kryssik was standing, looking rather anxious.
"Nice place you have here." Kismet commented casually, trying to get the young green to loosen up a little.Kryssik hitched up half of his mouth in a smile, nodded thanks, and then fidgeted. After what seemed a very long moment, he brushed past Kismet and wriggled between the couch and the bookcase, straining as he pushed.
The bookcase wobbled, looking for a moment like it might tip over, but then obediantly slid out of the way to reveal another brown curtain, from behind which the strong odor of the herbs Kryssik had been working with wafted out. Looking to Kismet once more, realizing it was a little too late to go back now, he drew in a breath and shoved the curtain aside, stepping inside and again motioning at the blue to follow him.Kismet stood in shock for a moment. As concerned as he was, he was also rather impressed. With a whip of his tail,he followed after the green once more, past the curtain.Kryssik wrinkled his nose in distaste, realizing that he'd not cleaned up after himself last night and that the concoction that had blown up in his face was still drying on the workbench's surface and on one of the walls.
He crossed the room, seized up a bowl of water and a rag and immediately daubed at the mess, finding that it was still wet enough to be cleaned up easily to his relief. After having hastily washed most of it away, he looked over his shoulder at Kismet and set the bowl aside.
Rifling through the pile of papers on the bench, he found the reason for this entire setup beneath them and handed the blue dragon a well-worn piece of paper containing the recipe and description of the Siren Song potion. It looked like it had been folded and refolded countless times, but the writing on it was still clear enough to be read.
Kryssik had since transcribed it onto a fresher piece of paper in case that one should finally fall apart, but still kept the original spellsheet with him as somewhat of a luck talisman. His tail lashing nervously, he watched Kismet guiltily for his assessment.It was what Kismet had feared. Not that the notion of Kryssik randomly playing around with dangerous materials was any better. Just easier to confront. To break Kryssik's spirit was the last thing he wanted to do. But just the sight of what had obviously been the last attempt all over the walls was enough to convince him. It was far better than coming in there one day to find Kryssik all over the walls instead.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?" Kismet clutched the paper, his ears falling back as his face hardened. "Even if successfully brewed, Siren's Song kills almost everyone who tries to take it. That is, if your amateur attempts don't blow up in your face, killing you quicker." His tail was lashing now, and he was trembling.Kryssik tried to keep from becoming angry, telling himself that Kismet just wanted to help...in fact, he told himself that so often that it had become a repeating mantra in his head and kept him in check.
His own hands trembling, he first went for the quill to write his rebuttal to the statement on one of the scraps of paper. Finding he could scarsely grab onto it, let alone steady his hand enough to write legible script, he settled for signing instead, some of it a bit garbled in his haste to get it out. The frantic movements of his hands betrayed both his upset and his determination. Were he really speaking, he would no doubt have raised his voice a bit.
I know it is dangerous. I know the risks. Understand where I am coming from. I have to try and there is no other way. There is nothing I want more than to speak. he paused and then reiterated the word sharply with his fingers. NOTHING.
His red eyes shone with tears as he ceased signing, his hands folding together to try and stop their shaking. Kismet hated seeing others in pain. It burned at him as though it were his own. He just shook his head roughly. "Do you really want a voice more than your own life? You're speaking to me now, Krys. Isn't that enough?"Kryssik's ears flattened a bit at this. What he was doing was not talking as far as he was concerned. It was the consolation prize of talking. It certainly did nothing to help amend the fact that he had never heard what his own voice sounded like and that his ability to communicate only extended so far.
Better not to live than to live not knowing. he signed at last, looking at the floor as he did so. His features were tight with frustration and upset. It is selfish. I know this. It is why I am glad I have no family or at least that we cannot remember one another. I would not take such risks if I would leave anyone behind where I was needed.
A tear slipped from one eye and slid, unheeded, down his cheek. I have to try he repeated."Do you really think you're not needed?" Kismet said quietly. "There's so few of us... And what of Homer? Do you realize you're the first dragon beside his parents that he's opened up to in any way? How do you suppose he would feel if something happened to you? Or any of the rest of us?" He sighed, walked over to Kryssik's desk and set the paper down.
The situation was different, but in many ways Kryssik sounded like himself. Kismet understood that pain of wanting to know the unknown. And yet, there was no way for him to understand. Kryssik set his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut. Damn it all, why did Kismet have to bring Homer into it? It didn't change his determination about his goal, it just made him feel worse for having made the decision to devote himself to it. It hurt enough as it was that he had to hide this from the others, why did it have to be made to hurt even moreso? He couldn't stop now...not when he felt he was so close after trying for such a long time.
He watched Kismet set the paper down and then stepped forward back into the blue's line of sight. You have all been very kind to me. Do not think I do not appreciate it. But I will be just as much good to all of you if I go mad from thinking what could have been as I would be you dead. He winced a bit, and then, his hands adopting a fractured motion to them as though it was a tender subject: I have become obsessed, I am afraid. I did not mean to, and now I cannot help it. I must keep going.For several moments, Kismet just stood in silence, staring at him coldly. Then the look melted away into wearyness. There was nothing more he could do... And any attempts for force the matter might make it even worse. "I can't help you do this... I couldn't live with myself if I helped you kill yourself." He studied the clutter on Kryssik's desk. "But..." He shifted apart a small pile of herb into two piles. "You shouldn't use so much Tinder leaf, it reacts strongly to flame. Half as much will do."
He crossed his arms with a small shake of his head. "Just know that I'm always here if you need me. I don't want you to hide your injuries from me anymore." He clasped Kryssik's shoulder and turned to leave. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."
Now that he knew exactly what he was dealing with, perhaps it was time to take a different approach. Kismet's tail twitched as he disappeared behind the curtain, and took leave of the lair.Kryssik watched Kismet go and, once the blue dragon was out of sight, he heaved a shuddering sigh and felt his knees nearly buckle. Catching himself on the edge of the workbench to keep from spilling onto the floor, he remained where he was a moment, getting ahold of himself before sauntering out of the laboratory and carefully pushing the bookcase back into place.
When he was satisfied that the doorway was completely hidden, he sank onto the couch, burying his head in his hands.
At least he'd said he wouldn't tell....but there had been something about the way Kismet had looked at him before leaving that had made him feel horrid. Like the older dragon saw him as less of a friend now and more of a quiet danger.
Feeling his eyes well with heat, he let the tears overtake him this time and began to cry. Better to let the nervous tension out, after all, than to keep it bottled within...
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Posted: Fri Oct 22, 2004 3:25 pm
Quote: I suppose its only natural that we all have off-days. I suppose also that I was about due for my own. I have opted, for today, not to venture out of my lair again. At least not until I have had a chance to sleep off the events of earlier this morning.
It was aggravating enough that I have ruined yet another mixture. Add to this that I could not get comfortable enough afterward to sleep, and one could call me annoyed.
Things were not helped in the least when I ventured into the main chamber seeking company. Kismet happened to be awake and the two of us got to talking. Like a fool, I said too much and he, not missing a beat, pounced on it immediately.
I had a choice at that point -- either deny everything and chance that he would draw a wrong conclusion, or tell him everything and hope he understood. I opted for the latter...of everyone I've met so far, I had thought that he would understand.
It went badly. He finds what I am doing to be reckless, dangerous, and stupid. He did not say quite as such to me directly, but it was certainly implied. I feel terrible now for having involved him in this. He has promised not to tell anyone, but the way he looked at me before he left would have sent me running with my tail between my legs were this not my own home.
I almost wish I had remained rogue and on my own. I was lonelier when no one knew me, but things were far less complicated. If I had chosen to, I could have died whenever I liked and no one would have been the wiser. I am not used to people caring about me and while I welcome the attention, I find it very frustrating to know that I will now have the disdain of others on my shoulders should something go wrong.
After Kismet left, Kura came in shortly afterward to offer comfort. I am not sure how I feel about that or furthermore how I am supposed to feel about it. One's general impression when someone enters their home uninvited is to feel violated. I was not even aware that she knew where I lived as, up until now, Kismet has been my only visitor.
Never the less, there she was. A large part of me wanted to tell her to leave, but I did not. I know she was trying to help, as ill-timed as it was, and it would have been wrong of me to take out my frustration at the situation on her simply because she was convenient. Perhaps it is because it seems to be in her nature to be rather forward about her feelings, but something about her intimidates me.
I find myself wishing I could meet with Pepper again. I have not seen him since our first meeting and I find it worrysome. I hope that I have not offended him somehow. Perhaps after I have slept off the worst of my mood I will see if I can't remember where his lair was. For now, however, I would not inflict my bad spirits upon anyone.
Perhaps tonight or tomorrow will bring a better mood, and with it some better events. For now, goodnight.
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Posted: Sun Oct 24, 2004 3:00 pm
Quote: Kismet, to his credit, was correct about the Tinder leaf. The scroll calls for just a bit too much of it. Today while mixing, I tried subtracting a pinch of flakes from the total amount and found it much less reactive and hostile than its been in the past.
However, I likewise found myself with a congealed bowl of muck smelling of sour milk and asparagus. I suppose it is better than an explosion, but it is far from the result I am seeking. I am not sure if this was due to the decreased amount of Tinder leaf or simply due to another oversight or mistake on my part. I'm afraid I have no choice but to return to full dosage of it when I try next.
As much as I prefer carrying a bowl of failed concoction outside to dispose of it to having it explode in my face, if taking liberties with my ingredients is going to upset the mixture, I can't afford to waste my componants...not when taking into account that winter is fast approaching.
I suppose I am left wondering what to do as of now. I did not venture out of my lair at all yesterday, and so far have not done so today. I do not want to give the others the impression that something is wrong with me, but I suppose that I feel a bit handshy at the moment. I compromised my position greatly by showing Kismet everything.
I trust him not to tell anyone, I've decided, but I'm not so sure that I trust him not to attempt to interfere. I know that, despite having only known him a short time, he wants to protect me from the damage meddling in things such as this could cause, but I've made it clear I will not be put off.
If I cannot continue my experimenting here, I will take it elsewhere. The others are very accepting and caring, but I cannot allow them to stand in my way. And I will not. I've known my goal much longer than I've known my newfound friends, and sadly, I know which is more important to me at the moment.
This is why I did not want to allow anyone close to me. This is why I felt I might have made a mistake coming here. Everything becomes more complicated by the day.
Still, perhaps I am overreacting and things have gone on without me since then. I can only hope so.
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