Legends of the Pink Clan

[PensivesWetness]

Sister mary Elel... er, Quick Stoot (4Mar05 8:05AM Local)

Class..... Class...... Class? SHUDDDDDDDDD UUUUUUUUUUP! *meekly* Thank-You.

12 little hin childs ruled the play grounds. Loud, rambunctious, fueled with metric tons of sugar, they were the real power brokers of Merrywood.

They vaguely noticed the pink haired hin climb up the podium and tap with a small wand to get their attention. "Uh.... kids? me say... Class in session?" The hin gaggle continued to run around, under, over the pink haired hin, Fast.

With a growing nerve perking on her brow, the pink haired hin began a slow burn... "Me count 10.... if no in seat by 10, m summon.... BIGBIGBIG rat!" Again, nothing but hin laughters, and yelling and general joy from the over sugared youngsters.

"1..."

".....2..." Still, they did not comply.

".....3... me no keeding"

"...4.......5....me say no kid! me call BIGBIGBIG rat!" still not even the sign or hint of compliance, and in the back of the hin's head, she understood why the Nanny was laughing to herself after she accepted Millia's offer.

"....6...."

"7,8,9,10! Now me summon MIGHTY.... er?"

At the count of ten, 12 saintly hin boys and girls rested neatly in thier chairs, blinking innocent blinks.

"oh... me thanks!" Millia giggled softly, ever so grateful.

"Today, me teach for Miss Nanny Lady" A choros of voices called out, "We Love Nanny!"

"me knows that! Anywhoos, me starts class out with me telling me name..." Grinning widely at her wit, "and you tell me name... IN COMMON!" The pink haired giggles loudly, as the entire class dropped thier jaws in awe, blinking twice"

It would turn out to be a long day of work for the hin, explaining herself, showing off some minor magicks to the class, explaining why they show learn common and a few other nick nacks. When the class was finally dismissed, loud cheering could be heard long into the eve, leaving a weary hin to spend her eve, talking to the nanny long into the night about things hin.

Millia, in all her experiances after all, still had much to learn about herself...

[Virvaldin]

hahaha

[PensivesWetness]

they seek lighteth and snuff it away! (6Mar05 16:48 PM Local)

'When fighting undeath that seeketh something it usually unwise to provide it...' -Some smart DM observation.

The hin sat quietly in the chair in the skull inn, conposing. She figured out a little more of her spellbook, keenly suddenly understanding 2 of the complex arcane fomula and composing song lyrics to evoke those effects. Now, casting those spells directly from the book or writing them out into her own portion of the spellbook... that will take longer. but she didn't mind, she had time to figure that part out.

She especially grateful that Julian spent a few hours of tutoring to correct gross gramar mistakes (if one could even image what draconic gramar mistakes looked like), the hin felt more mature. more ready. more.... aware. her powerful songs of insight and bravery grew strong. more inspiring. More numerous and effective.

at last, she felt... not unlike her former self when she lived in the town of Dragon Dale and she did was skulk around in the Myrwood Glades, skulking and protecting folk from Myrwood Goblins, the perenial threat in that region of the Vast...

but first. she wanted to sing. to learn just what those spell effects she learned would do....

[PensivesWetness]

And thus they sleep, protected in God's bosom (13Marc05 8:52 AM Local)

The hin was asleep, lying in the slanted grass under the tree in Shadowdale Dale. A fey fairy dragon, nestled in the branches above, his wings folded over, his breath a slow hiss as he also slept, guarding his Charge. She rested after a exhausting day of discussion, pleading and begging with bribes of all sorts of flavors (She had no earthly clue that acquiring the right to possess a wizard's familiar would be so difficult… or expensive. Of course, Lua's mischief didn't help or even chip in a coin or dozen…) to curry the favor of the willful fey.

He finally had accepted the hin as his beast of burden, (albeit more like claimed her like he would claim a piece of meat or pie) after much convincing by the Fey Lua (as they both dined over Millia's stolen piece of pie), to sway the stubborn and willful fey, who had napped that last piece of pie from the hin, during that awful yelling/screaming (it couldn't be SINGING, could it? From the little pink~haired child-adult?). It seemed a fair trade. The hin agreed to carry him everywhere when he desired to when not flying or shuffled in the grasses or swimming in fierce currents or turbulent airs. Carried and nestled in her large baggage, safe and content to rule his mobile portion of the greater realms and required to feed him upon fiercest demises...

Those lofty requirements mattered little to her, as long as the fey dragon simply accepted her as his mistress. With success finally at hand, the hin slept, dreaming bright vibrant dreams, as she turned over and curled into a tighter ball, in the comfortable grass. The still of calm broke with the repitious chinks of mesh, as one of the Dale's guards marched south down the dirty lane. The fey awoke, blinked his emerald green eyes hundreds of times fast at the apparent annoyance before lowering his head towards the snorting to the hin then. He looked her over before curling into a ball himself, satisfied, and closed his eyes again, seeking peaceful sleep himself...

[PensivesWetness]

Safety and warm discoveries (16Mar05 10:21 AM local; edited 10mar06 12:56am local)

The two travel companions arrived late in the eve of Shadow Dale. Tired from weeks of travel across the plains of Amn and the Western Heartlands to Cormyr and finally to the dales, by horse and carriage, the pair of giddy adventurer women were happy to be finally here.

They thanked the coaster rider, nodding grim tides at hearing the attack on one caravan by the drow and marched towards the center of town... only to stop as they were greeted by a WILD swoop and loud honking.

The fey Max'ural, awoken by the horses' arrival and annoyed, investigated the pair, sniffing, looking them over until he grew bored and sought slumber elsewhere, to the amusement of the pair, who shrugged happily and carried on towards the dale's famous inn.

A large dome shaped tree along the south east portion of Skull Inn's property the traveling pair passed, not seeing at first a sleeping form, curled in ball. A beautiful Elf ma'am rested on her knees, book in hand as she read. She looks up to the strangers with a friendly and examining glance.

One traveler was a Halfling female, dressed in sensible breeches and a loose white shirt, dirty from travel. Her backpack equally sensible, as is the folded bumbershoot in her backpack loops. A tarnished shield with a Conch shell filled with food indicated she was of the Halfling Matriarch's faith. She returned the Elf's smile with a equally proud smile herself.

The other traveler was a female human, dressed in dark leathers and frills, ominous and flirtatious in equal measures. Carrying typical adventuring gear on her back, plus a exposed flute in a neatly designed pouch on her hip which betrayed the woman's profession as a minstrel, she took the glorious sight of the bowl shaped tree, enamored by the beauty of the scene.

"Good Eve to you. Welcome to Shadowdale…"

"HELLO! I'm Soppi.", beamed with a typical smile, the hin as she glanced to her travel partner and cohort of mischief.

"Well Met to you, madam. I am Merrisa Miller of Red Larch." She pursed her lips and licked them, smiling and nodding to the pleasantries presented.

The elf maid closed her book with a slight clap, causing something behind her kneeling form to snort and snort, to the curious glance of the hin. "And I am Illyana Illystre Dé Clavo. Is there something I can help you with? You appear to be well traveled and in search of something." Her smile firm and curious, too as she continued to watch the pair.

Soppi was still looking around for the source of the noise as Merrisa replied, "Thank you. First, I'm looking for a inn to rest and recover. We been traveling several weeks from the Sword Coast You see. Second, does that inn come with a privy? I truly need to pee." The Bard smiled humorously, to the elf's knowing smile of nature, before Merrisa continued. "We also seek someone. But Priorities, please?"

"Come along then. Allow me to be your guide this eve." Illyana rose up with the ease and grace of all fey, and gestured to the pair to follow up the hill, Soppi still glancing to the tall grasses and wondering what laid in them…

Later on that evening, the trio, now filled with food and drink and merry, came back outside to the Skull Inn Tree and settled back down, acting as would friends long lost would, chipper and joy filled.

"…And THAT was how I lost the election, Illyana dear." Merrisa settled in the grass closest to the road, happy to be changed in a light and comfortable dress as she placed the tray of luncheon meats and cheeses in the grass between the others. Illyana sat down in her previously vacated spot and Soppi took a free spot against the well worn Willow Tree.

"It was a royal mess, when Pokk rode that horse INTO the guild hall. He almost ran poor Millia over," Soppi spoke, her characteristic smile halved for a expression of worry for a moment.

The elf couldn't help to snort amused a moment as she looked behind her to the hidden something in the grass, checking up on that particular something. "You mentioned earlier you sought someone, Miss Merrisa?" The hin nodded her head enthusiastically but kept silent as her mouth was filled with food at the moment.

"Yes. We are looking for a hin. Perhaps you know of her. She's aspirant minstrel and apprentice wizard, blessed with trouble making and…. " Merrisa's eyes shot up towards the sky and steepled her fingers as she chose her words with care. "She's blessed with…. Unusual hai…"

"Millia.", Illyana spoke up with the tone of a knowing mother, smiling warmly as she looked over her shoulder once more. "She's still asleep behind me I think…?"

Merrisa quirked her head to the side but Soppi rose from her spot to crawl through the tall and dark grasses to, low and behold, find the hin they had sought, curled in a ball, her gear in a neat pile around her. "Look what I found." Turning back towards the elf with her trade marked smile, Soppi asked, "How long has she been asleep?"

"Since perhaps before dusk, I believe. She was patrolling with the Whitestars and they had battled some goblin sentries in the eastern forest fringe. Vile things." Illyana's expression darkened slightly at the mention of the ever present blight of evil. "She tends to require large amounts of sleep, from what I have observed of her so far.", she added dryly, to the amusement of the others, nodding in agreement as the sleeping form snored slightly, to even more soft snickers and nodding in agreement.

Plenty was time tomorrow for any conversation involving treks and living space so they did not disturb her more, letting their friend dream peacefully, as the three shared what they knew of events far and wide, as well as discussions scandalous of a certain pink haired hin...

[PensivesWetness]

Friends for now and when... (11:58AM Local)

Merrisa Wildheart, age 11, was playing inn her family's back yard and farm plot, under a sturdy oak when the ruffling of leaves caused her to look up. above her, was the green glossy scaled head of the fey dragon, 'Honker', looking down at her with his emerald green eyes blinking in a typical rapid fashion, hundreds of times per second. She waved to her friend, who she befriended on day when the little girl, bold and foolish, snuck out in the woods...

and near met her fate to a goblin's spear, had the fey not swooped and hollered in rage, scaring the goblin into a fright and send him into a run, tripping on a rock, and cracking it's head on a sharp stone in the Ashaba and drowned.

Merrisa loved the fey forever after and thus began a wonderful childhood friendship, on that her mother disliked and her father merely chuckled, a secret fan of fey creatures himself. She pulled out a small chunk of cheese, a bit moldy but still egerly consumed by the happy fey. They spent the ramainer of the day teaching each other words, sylvan and common, enjoying themselves until the fey looked up, alert. His mistress, the magling hin Millia, was calling him, clearly worried the fey could feel in her emtions.

The fey dragon sighed with a hiss, leaned his head down to lick the top forehead of the girl how giggled with delight at his affection, and he swopped out of the flighty tree leaves, glossy lavendur wings glowing with sunlight from a late afternoon sun. The little girl was shy but understood Max was the pink haired hin's responcibility and always enjoyed the small musical shows she made up on a whim at the orphanage.

with the honking, squeels of laughter and hooting at a distant pitch as the fey and mistress reunited, the little girl headed back in to her home for dinner and chores. perhaps she would ask of her to teach her who to play the flute or how to sing? only time could tell, between friends...

Note: no robins or sparrows were harmed in this story... but that's what i wanted to write about, at first

[PensivesWetness]

Good housekeeping (13Apr05 11:26 AM Local)

The goblin screamed a long way down from the tall oak tree and hidden tree house during his brief controlled flight beforestopped with a loud crunchy sound, joining the 3 other goblin corpses that littered the tall grasses outside the west gate of Dragon Dale. The gaurds on duty at the gate laughed, enjoying the specticle of the hated green menase from the safety of their posts. One of the hin that used to live in that delapatated tree house was back and she was cleaning.

The pink haired hin, hair pulled back in a sharp pony tail, growled at the last goblin, her name sake daggers dripping red life fluid and she stood wise stance in blue bunny slippers and a silk robe and a feral grin, promising much pain to the goblinoid intruder. [gob, weak] "e thinks you be leaving cave~sleep in piece~chunks, Elf-fornacator." She spit to her left and tosed her daggers between hands with a blur, showing just HOW skillful she was with her weapons.

For Glorifix Myrwood smasher, it clearly wasn't a issue of what he would do then. having seen what the hin had done to his raiding party, hoping to use the seeming abandoned tree house to enter the dale and cause terror from inside. They had not figured the lone owner would have been returned to briefly reclaim her home or how ferociously she would defend it. the climb up was easy, with the gaurds not having direct line of sight of the lower edge of the small glade south of the gate, the raiders could climb up and patiently await the next eve...

Then Murx was the first to fall, his scream long cut off because he bleed dry of life long before his cranium excaped through his eyes and ears and mouth upon impact below. Then Murt, spirtxirl and florix Corvis-hunter, each dispatched with the ease that a irate hin of Yondalla could muster, wearing such comfortable evening wear.

When the hin took one step forward, her slippers now ruined, Glorifix Myrwood smasher, Myrwood goblinoid tribe slasher (he was so proud to have survived to reach this rank in his tribe, over the bloody remains of others 'ahead of him before', took one step back, slipped in a fresh pile of Spirtxirl's viceral, and fell screaming to his end.

The hin looked down the trap door hatch, spat down and closed it, muttering darkly. "Matron's bosom, I frigging hate this shit. Go away for 6 months and the glade goes to crap..."

"I miss Millia... where the hell is she?" The hin grabbed a mop and started pumping a contration that would siffen water from a hidden well behind her tree home up the tree and through a hole the gnome who built the thing called a 'shower-anti-ower'. Grinning wide as she struggled with the pumping action, Ginnia Quick Stout, eldest daughter of Akania, was then thankful she listened to Millia's 'Crack-ass idea' so long ago...

[PensivesWetness]

The ones who didn't get away... (17Apr05 5:59 PM Local)

The youthful Joybringer Rachel Arren, was anything but joyful this cold and dark eve. The night of rodents, was nigh finished, the rats of Talona's decrepid bosom, were busy in the night killing and doing things evil. The acolyte was busy finishing the blessings of one Kyran an'Mourning, one of the lastest to fall from the flood of vile.

She was about to head to her private rooms when the pink haired hin entered, gently as possibly laying the body of another fallen woman. "Miss Revel Lady? Me asks you bless lady here.... she die from rats", Mewed softly the tan skined hin, reaching of feminine sweat and gore, from a night of battle.

Rachel sighed to herself, spoken a soft word in the voice of the Celestials and thanked the hin for her efforts. The hin nodded respectfully and headed back outside. She then made a holy gesture over the fallen form of the woman. Upon finishing, she turned and headed to her room, to weep. Rachel needed this moment to cry for her city. Dareth Krassa, formerly of Waterdeep, would simply have to wait....

[PensivesWetness]

Ball Gowns: Two derailed trains of thought (28APr05 5:36 PM Local)

Ball Gown, n : The most formal gown; worn to a ball

Source: WordNet ® 2.0, © 2003 Princeton University

One quiet night in the Old Skull Inn, 3 women were discussing Tymorian fashion. One woman, the Tymorian Acolyte Teresa Itosuki held 4 large and cumbersome books in her arms. The Mystrian Pirestess Dara Tylnermana, stood by chatting with her while the hin Millia, held 4 smaller, thinner books, the belonged to Teresa....

"reg...... dres... ... ab.... OH me hates this already.... me bets two gold, 3 fishies and two pound wipe paper it like BORING!", giggled Millia weakly as she looked over the top book and it's title, instandly drawing a negative reaction from the subject material, something Teresa was quick to agree with.

"....No not in a while now... I was hoping to run into her in the village", the Priestess of Our Smiling Lady spoke to Dara before uttering a throaty laugh. "I would not make that wager with you, because I know it is boring".

Dara Tylnermana was standing next to them, arms across her bosom in a calm manner. "She was away on a short trip when I tried to visit her, several days ago. I left word for her, so she likely will come through town after her return.

Teresa smiled wistfully. "I wish I could go on trips. They sound so exciting".

Millia was still reading the top of the topmost book in her arms when she commented, wiggling her nose in the process. "Tymo.... uh... oh... ME get it... you Priestess of Lady Smile Fart!"

The hin's comment took Dara by suprise murmuring quietly, "Oh dear..."

"Why would you call the Lady... Smile.. Fart?", spoke a little offended Teresa who glanced at Dara then back to Millia.

Unplussed by the women's reactions, she grinned wryly and turned to put the books she carried on the chair next to her. "Me 'plains! Me knows two reason why lady in ball gown smile LOTS!" Her hand gestures flowed in the air, forming a silolette of a large typical ball gown.

"I'm not sure I like where this is headed...", Dara Bit her lower lip, listening but sounding uncertain while Teresa merely offered a "Hmm" for retort and a nod to continue.

The hin held one finger of her right hand up for effect, explaining. "One! it easy hide amorous lover from evil suiter... cause it BIG ball gown!.....".

The hin smiled sweetly, pausing to gauge Teresa's reaction, who merely openned her mouth then closes it again, clearly lost for words, while Dara frowned, looking at Teresa helplessly.

"TWO! when at dance, it easy run and no take blame when you crap self! you just go away fast! Ball Gown Cover!", explained Millia when a second finger on her hand raised up to a stunned Teresa.

Dara could only offer sagely, in her opinion, advice. "Best not to delve into the Tymora connection here, I think", a suggestion, Teresa took well and good with a confused smile...

[PensivesWetness]

Quips and whips (1May05 1:42Pm Local)

Tis Mid day under the weeping willow and the Old Skull Inn, where 3 hin and a human female sit and discuss titles for Millia's new rank, as a recruit in the Whitestars of Shadowdale...

"I think I just thought of a new name for you Millia… Private Mushmouth has a nice ring to it.", beemed the hin Wilimac Dabble, of Cormyr. His customary cigar in hand but as yet unlit. Next to him was the Hin, Frem Asher of the Whitestars and Millia's immediate surperior, chuckling himself as he watched Millia's eyes go as wide as saucers.

"Uh…. NO!" The pink haired hin then turns to the female human amongst them, a book of necromancy counter measures in her lap. "Me is no ranked Private, no?" Venessa Welter, herself also one of Millia's ranking surperiors, turned to her friend with a most dignified expression she could muster, covering a frown towards Wilimac.

"Be nice……. Your insulting mushmouths everywhere." Millia's eyes were huge again as she yelled a weak 'Hey!' to Venessa's snickers. The laughter continued until Millia turned to Frem and asked, "Uh, well? She make joke? What is Mushmouth?"

Venessa did her very best to bite her lower lip in order to keep a straight face...

Sagely advice, from the makers of Charmin (1May05 1:53 PM local)

The same location, the same people sitting, eaching giving advice, in various amounts...

The group was still resting under the willow tree, though the dicussion was more terse. Training and leadership was the rule for the moment. Children were out at play in the later afternoon and the discussion was spoken in the chirps and quips of the halfling…

"[Hin] And, one big thing to note, Trainee. From the moment you put on the uniform and become even a trainee, nothing you do will no longer affect only you. Every action you take will reflect directly to the White Stars as a whole... This is the case especially in the lands that fall under our protection, but also outside our borders in lesser extent. You under stand this responcibility, Milliam?" Frem's tone and expression was stone as he nodded his head towards the equally stoic pink haired hin.

Willimac was resting on his back, the lit cigar dancing between his pinkie and middle fingers. Venessa was also listening, book still resting on her crossed thighs waiting for Millia's reply. "uh.... Me knows that well, Frem sir.... Me lived with 2 sisters... it counter 'ductive if have give up wipe paper in middle of crap…" She gives the gathering two and a half breaths to let it settle in before adding, "Me knows...."

Frem sat there stunned into silence as chuckles came forth from the resting Wilimac. Venessa however had to bite down on her lower lip to keep from laughing, herself...

[PensivesWetness]

Waste (4May05 16:23 Local)

The rock flew threw the air landing with a thud against the wall of the Old Skull Inn and landed in the shrubs, wild growing and in dire need of trimming. Kick! Another rock hit the wall, propelled with the same force, the same amount of anger, to drop in a similar location, the wild shrubs.

The hin kicked a stone again, the same results, the same amount of anger, the same feeling of failure and sorrow, that plagued the little bardess since she returned from recovering the Dreamer's Ring from the Ice Mephit in on of the caves on Skull Hill. She shook her head, disliking how things went and displaced her displeasure with another well placed kick.

She should stop, she mentally lashed herself. Miss Jhaele might get upset at her but Millia was angry at the 'Old Fart' who sent the 4 some, 2 elves, a 'ranger of the deserts' and herself on a mission to recover a lost ring, in the possession of the Ice Mephit. She growled at the thought. "Him no even both ask us direct! Him get Lord Fancy Pants!"

Another kick, another thud and surprising well placed as well. She was very angry now, not at wanting to recover the ring. After all, how the situation was presented to her by her friends, it seems acceptable and offered only minor cautions, as she thought wrongly that the Mephit would be something else.

Nay, she was angry at how 'The Old Fart' reacted to the death of the Mephit, to conjured monsters, monsters from the Mephit's very imagination. For that's what the ring did, make true was the owner desired. Thus as the hin and elves and ranger watched helplessly on the other side of a wall of ice, the Mephit was devolvered by some unspeakable beast-humanoid... something he feared greatly.

They recovered the ring as the wall, the ice and cold and trees that formed inside the end of the cave that served as the Mephit's home disappeared, and departed with heavy heart, only to meet Elminster, with a table setting for 5, directly outside the cave. She didn't understand what he showed her after, the weird dimension, the accursed church and the creature inside. She was merely quietly irate at the realm's most powerful mage because he didn't seem to care that the mephit, the one they were instructed to recover alive... did not seem to care on it's passing very much.

The mephit, shortly known and liked briefly enough, to watch it die from seeming foolishly dangerous magics, was but one life that should not have been wasted...

[PensivesWetness]

Complements of the chef. He peed on it himself! (13May05 5:07PM Local)

The Elf-kin Priestess Rose, the Elf Myrilis, the Paladin Nicha and the hin Millia, were at the table setting outside the Old Skull Inn, one early morn, discussing the funeral for a friend and the need for skilled trappers in the Daggerdale region...

"...it threatens all of our lives..the children's lives," spoke the solemn Rose, gravely worried over the talk traps in the region near Dagger Springs as she finally sighed softly. "We can talk later..the springs preparations come first. There will be time."

The elf Myr blinked his eyes a few times, shaking his head in mild condundrom. "Trapsetter? Is... uh...? I've never known Arien to rely on traps for any particular purpose".

"We need someone to disarm traps... Drow traps of great cunning", Rose spoke with evident concern easily discernable in her expression and tone of voice.

The elf male shrugged "Just seems an odd request..." He pauses as understanding finally comes around. "Ahh... a springer you mean".

The Paladin spoke up, from a sip of her mug. "You need Cade, Rose."

The druid nodded in agreement to the reference of the valued hin. "Ya..Cade..he is hard to find thought..for me. Him or perhaps Ras.... I wish Ras was not gone."

Myrilis made a face contorted in a slight bit of distraction as Rose smiled a bit to Nicha. "We can pay him."

"If I see him, I will send him to find you, Rose" The paladin sipped from her mug again.

The hin winced as she spoke up finally, in the back of her mind sort of... regretting it, her suggestion. "me thinks me knows good trapper... but me thinks you probably kill him first..."

Rose relied quickly to Millia's offer. "I almost kill Maiel everyday..sounds intriguing" Nicha blinked, raising her eyebrows at Millia.

She shakes her head as she explains in a more unusually grave tone to the others."me tells you you kill him cause in one," as she holds one finger up, "...minute, him have take coin bag, feel left boobie, cup buttock, lift dagger, cup right boobie, grope front Twice and smile at you like little puppie... that just ate little kitten.... me no keeds..."

Myrilis snorts a slight and shakes his head, looking vaguely disapproving, as Rose spoke up. "Fun... he a hin?"

Millia's enthusiastic nodding confirmed the elf's suspicitions of who she spoke of, looking at the hin directly as he spoke in reply, laced with 1/2 pieces mirth and dry wit.

"Sounds like Muggles..."

[PensivesWetness]

Accidents happen [past revistitations] (2June05 11:32 AM Local)

In the tree house of Quick Stouts, overlooking the town of Dragon Dale and the Myrwood Glades, loud arguing could be heard. The guards on duty at the west gate, wincing at the loud and sharp yips and yelps, looked at each other and sighed helplessly. Since the 3 hin arrived in the region, the nights were seldom quiet...

'It no Me faults!', yelped Millia as she lifted the small chair again, in her search for something. She glances to and fro, rising up to face her sister and gave a helpless shrug.

Her older sister, Ginnia, scowled and paced about angrily. 'I don't care, Mia-butt. Just. Find. It. NOW! i can't go to Cursarus's training without them'. The Hin's single pony tail, vibrantly pinkish hue in color flailed about as she moved, mirroring her mood.

The junior hin of the clan, Robin, laid in a corner of the small 'apartment' resting against the belly of her familiar, a Black Panther easily twice her diminutive size, her fingers nervously twisting the emerald green dew rag's knot that covered her long and flowing hair, pink hewed as well.

'Ginnia, love. are you sure you even need it? The Human only offered training, not a blood challenge.' The elder hin merely rolled her eyes and spit out a open window in reply, to imply the merely idea of not having those items ludicrous.

'I Told you', She paused to look under the chair that Millia just several seconds ago checked herself. 'I won't go see him if i don't have my daggers! it's like going to take a dump without paper! GODS and PISS ANTS!'

Millia only uttered something in elvish to that end, something that, had someone understood the translations, would have caused red faces of embarrassment or howls of mirth...

[PensivesWetness]

Pickles to parry [past revistitations] (18June05 11:56 AM Local)

t'was Midsummer's Eve. Cool air, soft winds... Murmurs of love and romance, of desire and want filling the scents of gin blossoms and roses, a time of wonderful things... and the mewing of a child. loudly, expressively and purely defiant. It seems, the terrible twos strike the Goodhearts household in pairs this eve.

"Me wants Huggles!", mewed the hin two-ling, jumping up and down, tetering on soft socks and almost slipping and falling with each expressive leap into the air.

The object of her attention, a very pregant hin mother was busy holding the infant human girl in her hands, trying her very best to calm the babe's own cries. "shu-shu-shu... Melony, love... shu-shu.... Miss Fon Lu! please, wait, Millia darling.... GINNIA DIANA! Please come play with Millia!"

A muffled voice from the living room can be barely heard in the din of the screaming up the strairs. The Goodhearts were 'discussing' politics with guests, hollering and having a good time, it seemed.

"MOM-Ma! Me want Huggles!" little Millia blurted out, just two seconds before the hin child fell down, and issued a scream that rivalled the noise from the human's upstairs. It was times like this that Akania Quick Stoutfolk begged the Lord of Shadows for surcor...

[PensivesWetness]

Headless romantics (20Jun05 11:50 PM Local)

Gael Sparrowchild, Ranger, warrior, fey, was quiet, keping his own concil as the Balderan pitched and rolled on the high seas. He left many thing undone in the City of Spendurs, it seemed. Lose ends, changes. Two edges of the blade, both painful to behold...

Millia Quick Stout, mage, Bardess, Thief. She too remained quiet during the journey. but it wasn't the high seas that kept the usually loud and vocal hin somber and pensive. It was her muddled feelings. It's quite one thing to find out a old friend's death was exagerated considerably. But it's all together something more when you no longer love someone...

She snorted softly at the thought. she couldn't see the elf's point of view, didn't truely understand whyhe and his lover are former now. aye, people change. but to not love at all? the hole concept baffled the hin to know end, a situation that which did nothing but bring forth more sorrow into the hin's life...