Post by shardae intuneric on Aug 8, 2011 11:55:21 GMT -8
The bazaar of Elke Circle was said to be the most alive part of the city of Dolce. It wasn’t that they had the breathtaking, splendid grandeur of the palace grounds where the royals spent their time doing what royals did. Handling the city’s rules and politics, fighting for their own sanity, plotting against one another, and dodging the storm of assassins. When they weren’t doing that, they were lounging in the lap of luxury. Worth it? Not to those who spent their lives in the bazaar! They didn’t have endless riches, and for many life could be hard. But there was a magic here that no other place in the world could compete with. During the day, performers plagued the streets thanking the cats who stopped to observe in awe and place an ivory piece in the containers they had set out. Vendors with treats and trinkets called out insistently to potential buyers. Singers and music makers added more noise to the fantastic chaos, the whole square making music as one. You just had to listen closely to hear it’s seductive beat before it attacked your whole nervous system, making your body rock and sway to the rhythm. There was a life here that no other could compare to.
Shardae padded down the cobblestone street like he owned the place, greeting people he knew as he walked past. He had been raised here and knew no different life, but it was all he wanted. The music, the social aspect, the dancing! How could anyone want anything but this? He wasn’t even performing yet, but his lithe body swayed to the beat of the drums the way he’d been taught by his mother as soon as he could walk. “All cats can be graceful,” his mother had explained, her whole body covered in dancers scarves. “But it takes a dancer to be loose and move the music!” Now as an older and experienced dancer, he could spot one of his kind from a distance. They were always moving in sync with the natural heartbeat of the world. He had never seen any as graceful as his mother, but who could ever compete with her? A year and a half had passed since her death and she was still talked about often in the bazaar. Shardae’s face twitched with a frown. He missed his mother, but even more so he missed his banished brother. Having a supporting family, only to have them torn from you so suddenly was mind boggling. He felt like he was a step behind in the dance of life, tripping over his own feet and tail as he dashed desperately to catch back up. The black leopard shook his head, replacing the frown quickly with a smile. The weather was pleasant, the bazaar crowded already at mid-morning. There was fire to be played with and money to be made!
Shardae dipped into a small blue and white striped tent made of old fabric hung over half of a clothesline. This was his home for now. To some, it seemed like homelessness to have a shelter that could be torn away so quickly. For him, this was a rather large commitment. He had even acquired some furnishings, a nest made from rabbit pelts that was as soft as a cloud and a large mirror with only a few chips taken out of it, and a large wooden washbasin. As far as he was concerned, this was fine living! Using one claw, he removed the leather tether that held the small bags he kept about his neck. He stuff one under the pelts, and then opened another. From it he removed a bowl and some materials he used to create his pelt paints. Today he had the supplies to create a nice bright orange and a deep aquamarine that was very pleasing to the eye. He mixed the colors up, sat down in front of the mirror and began to paint himself with practiced speed.
Many acquaintances teased Shardae that he could make a living painting pelts alone. Shardae took these remarks both as compliments and the jealous truth. He had become quite talented at using patterns and complex designs to create a unique look that no one else could compare to. Today, Shardae outlined his olive eyes in blue before doing a complex set of dots in a triangle centered on his forehead in orange. He added in two orange streaks, one under each eye, before moving onto his body. Jewelry could be flammable, so he never wore any. Instead, he painted on some orange and turquoise cuffs around his front paws. He did blue waves, also in tiny dots, along his sides to resemble water. Dipping the tip of his long tail in orange completed the look. Shardae allowed to paint to dry for a few minutes before looking in the mirror. “My friend,” he purred to himself. “You are looking mighty fine today!” He chuckled to himself as he grabbed two of the other small bags in his mouth. He gave one a little shake, hearing only a few pieces of ivory rattle around. Today was a day he would dance to make money!
Shardae flew out of his tent, ready to set up his performance area and begin. He opened the ivory bag as wide as the drawstring would let it stretch and placed it on the ground before him. Then he removed the other bags contents. A small brass bowl, a piece of glass, and a little bit of kindling came out. Doing as his brother had taught him, Shardae constructed the skeleton of the fire in the bowl, and then held the lens up to the sunlight. Soon a small fire was burning there, contained in the bowl but wishing hungrily for freedom. “Soon, my sweet.” he cooed to the fire before tossing the now empty bag back into his tent. “Step right up, ladies and gentle cats!” he called out in an inviting voice. “A performance like no other is about to begin! Come see the very laws of nature be controlled and tamed!” A small crowded began to gather, and Shardae beamed. Nothing like a little advertising to get things going. Excitement and anticipation began to flood his veins as he listened for a good beat. Hearing a clouded leopard hammering some drums two stalls down, he deemed it worthy. It was loud enough for the audience to hear, and a simple enough of a tune to follow. Closing his eyes, Shardae blocked everything else out. Heaving himself backwards, he began to play with beat on the pavement with his forepaws. The audience was riveted. They always were.
With a mighty battle cry, Shardae launched himself up into the air without warning. He heard a few gasps, but he ignored him. His fix had begun, dance and fire would mix to create a drug made just for him. Well, him and Shadden but what use was it to dwell on his lost brother, especially when she much merriment was to be had!
The leopard worked his way through a series of twists and bends, flipping with ease through the air. He didn’t even know what he was doing anymore, he was just working off instinct. Every part of him was in tune with the beat, hypnotizing him. He found himself on the window ledge of the building above his tent, where he grinned at the audience before throwing them a playful wink. Much better was in store. He jumped down, twisting as he did so. This whole time, the fire had sat in it’s bowl, dancing it’s own seductive dance. He could no longer resist. He plucked up one of his specially designed torches and dipped it into the flames. It caught instantly and he pulled it back, splitting the fire yet making it grow. He began to spin the stick, making the fire create patterns of it’s own. Without warning, he tossed it up in the air. This was one of his favorite moves, and it had taken awhile to perfect it. He purposely caught the stick by the burning end, extinguishing the flames in his mouth. Smoke passed out of his jaws as he shot the watchers another showy grin. The beat was coming to a close…it was time to wrap up the performance.
Without hesitation, Shardae dropped the stick and leapt through the fire in the bowl. He coat caught fire, and someone in the crowd screamed. The leopard didn’t care though, this was what cats wanted to see! He jumped up, balancing on his hind legs and striking a pose. The heat began to intensify, and he knew that it was time to put himself out. He dropped to the ground and rolled, the fire dying a sudden and silent death. “Goodbye, my friends.” he thought to himself as he got to his feet and bent into a bow. He could hear ivory being deposited into the bag over the cheering. “Another successful day.” he smiled to himself contently.
word count ;; one-thousand-five-hundred-and-twelve.
reserved for;; Jay with Nadya.
ooc notes;; First post with Shardae!
Shardae padded down the cobblestone street like he owned the place, greeting people he knew as he walked past. He had been raised here and knew no different life, but it was all he wanted. The music, the social aspect, the dancing! How could anyone want anything but this? He wasn’t even performing yet, but his lithe body swayed to the beat of the drums the way he’d been taught by his mother as soon as he could walk. “All cats can be graceful,” his mother had explained, her whole body covered in dancers scarves. “But it takes a dancer to be loose and move the music!” Now as an older and experienced dancer, he could spot one of his kind from a distance. They were always moving in sync with the natural heartbeat of the world. He had never seen any as graceful as his mother, but who could ever compete with her? A year and a half had passed since her death and she was still talked about often in the bazaar. Shardae’s face twitched with a frown. He missed his mother, but even more so he missed his banished brother. Having a supporting family, only to have them torn from you so suddenly was mind boggling. He felt like he was a step behind in the dance of life, tripping over his own feet and tail as he dashed desperately to catch back up. The black leopard shook his head, replacing the frown quickly with a smile. The weather was pleasant, the bazaar crowded already at mid-morning. There was fire to be played with and money to be made!
Shardae dipped into a small blue and white striped tent made of old fabric hung over half of a clothesline. This was his home for now. To some, it seemed like homelessness to have a shelter that could be torn away so quickly. For him, this was a rather large commitment. He had even acquired some furnishings, a nest made from rabbit pelts that was as soft as a cloud and a large mirror with only a few chips taken out of it, and a large wooden washbasin. As far as he was concerned, this was fine living! Using one claw, he removed the leather tether that held the small bags he kept about his neck. He stuff one under the pelts, and then opened another. From it he removed a bowl and some materials he used to create his pelt paints. Today he had the supplies to create a nice bright orange and a deep aquamarine that was very pleasing to the eye. He mixed the colors up, sat down in front of the mirror and began to paint himself with practiced speed.
Many acquaintances teased Shardae that he could make a living painting pelts alone. Shardae took these remarks both as compliments and the jealous truth. He had become quite talented at using patterns and complex designs to create a unique look that no one else could compare to. Today, Shardae outlined his olive eyes in blue before doing a complex set of dots in a triangle centered on his forehead in orange. He added in two orange streaks, one under each eye, before moving onto his body. Jewelry could be flammable, so he never wore any. Instead, he painted on some orange and turquoise cuffs around his front paws. He did blue waves, also in tiny dots, along his sides to resemble water. Dipping the tip of his long tail in orange completed the look. Shardae allowed to paint to dry for a few minutes before looking in the mirror. “My friend,” he purred to himself. “You are looking mighty fine today!” He chuckled to himself as he grabbed two of the other small bags in his mouth. He gave one a little shake, hearing only a few pieces of ivory rattle around. Today was a day he would dance to make money!
Shardae flew out of his tent, ready to set up his performance area and begin. He opened the ivory bag as wide as the drawstring would let it stretch and placed it on the ground before him. Then he removed the other bags contents. A small brass bowl, a piece of glass, and a little bit of kindling came out. Doing as his brother had taught him, Shardae constructed the skeleton of the fire in the bowl, and then held the lens up to the sunlight. Soon a small fire was burning there, contained in the bowl but wishing hungrily for freedom. “Soon, my sweet.” he cooed to the fire before tossing the now empty bag back into his tent. “Step right up, ladies and gentle cats!” he called out in an inviting voice. “A performance like no other is about to begin! Come see the very laws of nature be controlled and tamed!” A small crowded began to gather, and Shardae beamed. Nothing like a little advertising to get things going. Excitement and anticipation began to flood his veins as he listened for a good beat. Hearing a clouded leopard hammering some drums two stalls down, he deemed it worthy. It was loud enough for the audience to hear, and a simple enough of a tune to follow. Closing his eyes, Shardae blocked everything else out. Heaving himself backwards, he began to play with beat on the pavement with his forepaws. The audience was riveted. They always were.
With a mighty battle cry, Shardae launched himself up into the air without warning. He heard a few gasps, but he ignored him. His fix had begun, dance and fire would mix to create a drug made just for him. Well, him and Shadden but what use was it to dwell on his lost brother, especially when she much merriment was to be had!
The leopard worked his way through a series of twists and bends, flipping with ease through the air. He didn’t even know what he was doing anymore, he was just working off instinct. Every part of him was in tune with the beat, hypnotizing him. He found himself on the window ledge of the building above his tent, where he grinned at the audience before throwing them a playful wink. Much better was in store. He jumped down, twisting as he did so. This whole time, the fire had sat in it’s bowl, dancing it’s own seductive dance. He could no longer resist. He plucked up one of his specially designed torches and dipped it into the flames. It caught instantly and he pulled it back, splitting the fire yet making it grow. He began to spin the stick, making the fire create patterns of it’s own. Without warning, he tossed it up in the air. This was one of his favorite moves, and it had taken awhile to perfect it. He purposely caught the stick by the burning end, extinguishing the flames in his mouth. Smoke passed out of his jaws as he shot the watchers another showy grin. The beat was coming to a close…it was time to wrap up the performance.
Without hesitation, Shardae dropped the stick and leapt through the fire in the bowl. He coat caught fire, and someone in the crowd screamed. The leopard didn’t care though, this was what cats wanted to see! He jumped up, balancing on his hind legs and striking a pose. The heat began to intensify, and he knew that it was time to put himself out. He dropped to the ground and rolled, the fire dying a sudden and silent death. “Goodbye, my friends.” he thought to himself as he got to his feet and bent into a bow. He could hear ivory being deposited into the bag over the cheering. “Another successful day.” he smiled to himself contently.
word count ;; one-thousand-five-hundred-and-twelve.
reserved for;; Jay with Nadya.
ooc notes;; First post with Shardae!