b e a u t i f u l ``KILL (o)

[cena]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/maggiesrpstuff/BACKGROUNDS/fk5qwnjpg.png); width: 457px; padding-top: 30; padding-bottom: 30; -moz-border-radius: 35 35 35 35; -webkit-border-radius: 35 35 35 35;] hi » P . L . U . R Lucian leaned back on the table, tankard in hand, full of ale that was currently being sloshed around as he lifted it to his lips and took a drink. Normally he wasn't the type to be alone, nor was he the type to really drink outside the presence of his friends; but after a long day outside, he was tired and needed a little something to clear his mind if not only for a night. The human leaned forward against the smooth surface of the pub, one arm crossed as he leaned against his elbow lightly. Today he didn't really find himself trading all that much, so mostly he helped his friend, the blacksmith, Brennen, out- not that that was much since physically he was at a disadvantage of the job. That morning, however, he had caught a few shrews on his way to his stall. At least, for the rest of the day when he gave him, it stole his attention as he turned a common dead animal into something worth bartering for. Shrew fur was too thick, too common, and too heavy to be priced as some sort of heirloom, but he did cut it up and sew it into a small, durable purses, a little more fancy then most, but at the same time, it wouldn't be much of a loss if it were ripped... and a few other goods. Women, he assumed, always liked nice things, and even during war, it was nice for a lover to feel wanted too. He had seen men often stop by and trade with him for things that they hoped would mend their fights and bind their relationship once more. He mostly sat on the ground when no one seemed interested; a bone needle between his fingers as he fastened them together with nimble, thin fingers. The length of time it took to preserve the skin and turn it into leather had taken longer then Lucian had expected it to, which meant nothing could actually be finished and traded or sold until until near dusk- by that time, he was fortunate enough to pass by a few women who were eager to claim the prize for themselves, handing over a few dirty and worn bronze coins before shuffling away, their heads over their heads, their forms bowed as he looked this way and that. Besides that, a few carvings were sold and some wares that his friend had made also added to the price- which, these days, still wasn't much. He recalled it wasn't always like this; he remembered going to the market with his parents, and children laughed and skittered between the stalls as adults chattered, assembled their wares for showing and could look away without the thought that a common street rat with greedy little fingertips snatching it right under their nose. But now, he looked around his stall and guards seemed to be everywhere, they seemed to have appeared one day with the intention of protecting everyone and yet catching no one. It seemed to Lucian that false hope was the reason behind all of it- to ensure people that they would be safe from harm; with the guards standing at their posts, it's no doubt that all they have to worry about is green eyes and fingers. Not unusal deaths and rabid murders. By the end of the market day, he leaned against the side of the stall as he crossed his arms and his ankles, the purple of his cloak swaying with the breeze, the wind shuffled his hair playfully when he reached up and dropped the hood behind him. The flames of the sun faded into dying embers on the horizon right before his eyes; the color changing from a warm colors to cooler ones. Above him, the starts glittered, no longer having to be blocked the the sun's brightness, the cresent moon beamed proudly at him from his spot in the night- watching him under it's gaze as he finally turned and started to gather is items when it seemed he couldn't possibly traded and sold anything else. He packed up this things, gave his friend the due he had acquired from his wares and departed, saying something about getting a drink before heading home, knowing the his companion's hobbies of a little fun after the working day is done. His ability to indulge, or anyone's ability to indulge in something as such never really ceased to amaze Lucian, to think about pleasure at a time like this. Then again, if he truly was surprised at their actions, he wouldn't be indulging in the ale himself. But Brennen was carefree like that, wasn't he? While Lucian couldn't find the perfect one to give himself away to- he wouldn't think of anyone but him. No one before that, and no one else after. He had always wondered about the fascination over 'first time' and 'first kiss', mostly due to his belief that it counts not to who one has given their first to, but who their last and only one will be. He, himself, hadn't given it to anyone, not yet. His thoughts returned to the wares he had decided to drop back at his home before heading to the pub, with luck, he was sure that he could barter and sell the shrew goods and the handmade carvings in a day or two- a few other trinkets also could be worth of value at one point or another, no point in worrying, was it? He flexed his gloved hand before picking up the ale, taking a long draught and setting it back on the surface of the worn wood with a muffled thump. His eyes glinted as he stared ahead. But that was who he was, one who worried about the worse, always making a boulder out of a pebble. 976 . open . where did those words come from?

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[mistahb]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 415px; padding: 15px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px; background-color: #494949; border-top: 3px solid #333333; border-bottom: 3px solid #333333, bTable] i've gotta get outa heare, and i'm begging you TAGGED lucian - WORDS 814 - NOTES finally <3 Brennen Smith lived for his forge. It had been his father's forge, and his father's father's forge, for generations. And each one of them worked day in and day out until the next in the line came to take that mantle upon themselves to run the smithy. Brennen had taken to hammer and anvil like a fish to water. And now, at twenty-five, he took on most of the jobs in the city. City work suited him, making blades for the guards and for personal use. Everyone around knew that no amount of instruction could help him when it came to shoeing animals, but his dedication showed through on his blades. They were his forte, his shining stars. He put them before practically everything else. That practically fell short of his unwinding at night, unless it was an especially challenging or exciting project. When it was all menial tasks, like today, he never passed up a chance to his a pub or two. What could be better after a day of grueling work in a sweltering forge on a hot summer day than a pint or two with pleasant company, or no company at all. Brennen wasn't particularly picky on that point. Whether there was someone to talk to, or a girl on his arm, he could care less. Well, he did rather like pleasant conversation. If the girl went off, bored by him, he really wouldn't care at all. Few people could catch his eye and keep it, it was just the way he was. And days he spent without them felt that much longer in the heat of his forge. He noticed the days when he didn't have company, the loneliness he was used to, the silence, it all felt so much deeper when he got a tease at the beginning of the day. Like today, Lucian had stopped by, but only briefly, to take a few daggers to the market, to sell them. He was glad, maybe- no. He was glad that Lucian wasn't able to stay and help, he told himself over and over, because that meant he had some of his own wares, working on projects of his own. Seeing his friend doing what he excelled at, of course Brennen was happy for that. It was just that silence didn't seem so much like silence with another body there. And not just any body could cause that transformation of lack of conversation. When Lucian finally returned, it signaled the end of his workday, and he left the pile of coins untouched as he went about cleaning up. Then it was out the door and down the road to the pub that held the title of his favorite pub in the city. The ale wasn't the best, and there were a few unsightly characters there, but Brennen enjoyed it there. He also knew it was the only place in the city that Lucian went to drink, and Lucian had mentioned getting something before he turned in. With any luck, he'd be there, Brennen thought as he walked in the doors. And he was right. There, seated at a table, alone, was his friend, already with a tankard. Brennen didn't bother going to the counter to order, simply giving a friendly wave in the barkeep's direction as he went over to sit. “Long day today. Really looking forward to a nice cold pint or two. Not much better than that in the summer heat, right?” He gave his friend a grin, doing his best to lighten the mood. When you lived and worked around heavy metal hammers and bars all day, you had to lighten things up whenever you were away from them, or at least that was the excuse he gave whenever anyone asked. “How was the market today? Couldn't have been as hot as the smithy, at least.” Now he was seated, he took the chance to really look around the place, hardly noticing the barmaids sending him flirty glances as they made their rounds. It was just a byproduct of his friendly personality. A number of them had caught him out back for a kiss or roll in the hay, but it hadn't meant anything to him. As carefree as he was with his drinking and kisses, he agreed completely with his friend. He was just waiting for the day when the person he wanted to give his last kiss to let them have their first. His mother, of course, hoped that one of his trysts would end in a child, if only so there would be someone to carry out the family name, but he could care less about that. Children weren't on his list of priorities, nor was a wife. He had bigger things to live for, like the day when a king or prince came to his humble smithy asking for a sword. to be my escape

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[cena]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/maggiesrpstuff/BACKGROUNDS/fk5qwnjpg.png); width: 457px; padding-top: 30; padding-bottom: 30; -moz-border-radius: 35 35 35 35; -webkit-border-radius: 35 35 35 35;] hi » P . L . U . R Feeling the air around him stir at the presence of a newcomer, he was about to tilt his head back and look at who it was, but the stranger beat it to him, sitting down and speaking up before he could say anything. Instead, he kept his head lowered and fingered the surface of the tankard before taking a drink from it. He licked his lips, silent for a beat before he finally turned to Brennen, giving him a crooked smile. 'Indeed,' he agreed, turning back to his drink casually. Pursing his lips, he rolled his wrist with the tankard in it, watching the liquid inside swirl before he nodded. 'I have seen better days, but still better then most,' he admitted after a moment. Had he lived in a different period of time he probably would had made more then a few coins here and there, during these times of war, little actually care for little arts and trinkets, they focused on weaponry made to protect them and their families. And yet he sold something, is that not worth the effort to head to the marketplace in the first place? If he was lucky, there were times a few upperclassmen actually stopped by to buy something nice. Brennen had always been a good friend to Lucian. He was a dear friend, someone that Lucian rather found endearing. They had been friends for quite a while now, and he had yet to see some sort of quality about the other to made him want to leave him. Not to mention, he often found comfort in the other boy, finding his presence to be somewhat soothing, putting the him at ease. But sometimes he wondered, as he looked at the few people who giving their attention to him from afar, how was it that they got along so well- while the blacksmith was casual and friendly, Lucian was more introverted and docile. It was an interesting thought, something that had passed his mind from time to time as he watched the male interact with others around him. But he didn't know how Brennen did it- he had never stayed long, often he retired early and left the blacksmith in the company of others. He was curious as to what the other man did when he wasn't around, what words he used to charm so many people, a power that Lucian didn't possess. Words weren't his lover, they didn't come to his naturally- but he manages to get what he wants. With a groan, he leaned forward and against his friend, their arms bumping together before he rested the side of his forehead against the others shoulder, closing his eyes. The thing about Lucian was, was that he was a tactile person, not in a way that others would think though, it was normal for him to hug and hold someone else hand without any real meaning behind it. He found it oddly comforting. 'How you manage it is beyond me,' he commented, without the fire a day in the market was already bad enough- it was hot, long, and sitting under the shade sometimes provided little help when there wasn't any wind. It was something that he often said, but never really meant it in any way other then just an opinion. Pulling away, thinking nothing of the movement (because he knew that his friend would be fine with it), he took another drink. 'Anything interesting happened to you?' he inquired curiously. 585 . closed . will get better, promise

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