Date: 1/24/2002 11:38 PM Central Daylight Time
From: TarethThrn
"There simply isn't anyone else, Tareth." The old elf's voice had that final tone to it, a lot like the metallic slam of a prison door behind a new inmate.
Tareth meditatively rubbed his thumb over the polished surface of the yellow opal, the scowl wearing a deeper groove into his face. Rousse had this annoying tendancy to just stare at him when he left off in a tirade, knowing perfectly well when he was out of arguments.
"It's been five weeks. Not a single other soul has even heard of this place, Tareth. Like it or not, I think you've found your partner." The old elf gestured to one of the atrium chairs, iron wrought into the shape of twisting ivy.
Resigned, he grabbed the cup from the matching table and dragged it to the chair, flopping down into it and ungraciously draping one leg over the chair's arm. Rousse arched an already fine brow at Tareth's indiscretion.
"She's rude, she's pompous, she's totally clueless as to what the real world is like... and you want me to take her with me?" He sighed, sipping from his crystal cup. Rousse had fine taste, even for an elf. Even though Tareth knew what he was drinking was only water, it was better by far than most of the wines he'd ever tasted. Staring into the cup, he contemplated again. "She's going to get herself killed, or worse, both of us."
"You need her, Tareth." Rousse stated.
Sparing the ancient one a quicksilver glance, he knew the elf meant more than the obvious with that statement. Rousse's scrutiny made him sit up straight in his chair, both feet on the floor. Rolling the delicate cup between his palms in the space between his knees, he considered the ramifications of exactly what he was getting himself into.
Out of the Frying Pan...
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Re: Out of the Frying Pan...
Date: 1/25/2002 1:07 AM Central Daylight Time
From: Sasha Dushku
She had stomped her way home angrier than a hippo with a hernia and threw aside the tent flap, startling Deidre.
"Bad day?" Deidre was grinning cockily trying her best to give the red head the saucy look that melted her into general amusement... but she wasn't even given a sideways glance.
Sasha slammed a glass down to the table, snatched up the bottle with the golden liquid in it and poured herself a full glass. Deidre's blue eyes widened at the amount she had poured, and how quickly Sasha threw it back.
"I'll take that as a yes." Deidre's voice mellowed quickly when she realized exactly how upset Sasha really was.
"So, let me take a wild stab in the dark here. You showed up, found some wily, ugly dork who didn't know his head from his bum, and found out that you can't go at all?"
Sasha simply snorted and poured another drink, taking in a deep breath.
"More like.. I showed up, he was there, was worse than an idiot, totally full of himself, and UGH. Now he's telling me he'll "think" about it."
Deidre flinched in sympathy for the boss as she spoke and tilted her head, offering her glass up for a refill.
"And what's worse.. " she sighed, draining her own glass before refilling the blonde's inquiry, "was that he wasn't ugly at all."
Deidre's eyes flashed wide again for a moment before she bit her lip to avoid even looking like she was going to grin. She knew about the boss' "situation" and was still comfortable around her, but she never knew what to say when situations like this arose.
"So what are you going to do?" She had subdued as Sasha stared out the tent flap window, the firelight playing along her face.
Sasha continued to stare quietly in contemplation, her fingers sliding over the glass as if it held the secrets.
"I'm going to get ready. I'm going to pretend like he doesn't exist and just do my research like normal." She took a sip from her glass daintily, "Rousse said that I *had* to take him. I have no choice. Therefore I will take much alcohol and pretend he's you. .. only.. gay." She flashed her cute grin the blondes way who couldn't help but laugh at that.
"But then you'd take advantage of him and that wouldn't be what you want right?" Deidre countered taking her own sip.
Sasha's first finger shot into the air as if to say one second, her brows raising at the same time.
"You, my dear Deidre, are brilliant. I never thought of that. I'll just have to keep you in my thoughts then. Besides, I don't think he has half the intelligence of your pinky."
The two laughed, Sasha in a much brighter mood now.
From: Sasha Dushku
She had stomped her way home angrier than a hippo with a hernia and threw aside the tent flap, startling Deidre.
"Bad day?" Deidre was grinning cockily trying her best to give the red head the saucy look that melted her into general amusement... but she wasn't even given a sideways glance.
Sasha slammed a glass down to the table, snatched up the bottle with the golden liquid in it and poured herself a full glass. Deidre's blue eyes widened at the amount she had poured, and how quickly Sasha threw it back.
"I'll take that as a yes." Deidre's voice mellowed quickly when she realized exactly how upset Sasha really was.
"So, let me take a wild stab in the dark here. You showed up, found some wily, ugly dork who didn't know his head from his bum, and found out that you can't go at all?"
Sasha simply snorted and poured another drink, taking in a deep breath.
"More like.. I showed up, he was there, was worse than an idiot, totally full of himself, and UGH. Now he's telling me he'll "think" about it."
Deidre flinched in sympathy for the boss as she spoke and tilted her head, offering her glass up for a refill.
"And what's worse.. " she sighed, draining her own glass before refilling the blonde's inquiry, "was that he wasn't ugly at all."
Deidre's eyes flashed wide again for a moment before she bit her lip to avoid even looking like she was going to grin. She knew about the boss' "situation" and was still comfortable around her, but she never knew what to say when situations like this arose.
"So what are you going to do?" She had subdued as Sasha stared out the tent flap window, the firelight playing along her face.
Sasha continued to stare quietly in contemplation, her fingers sliding over the glass as if it held the secrets.
"I'm going to get ready. I'm going to pretend like he doesn't exist and just do my research like normal." She took a sip from her glass daintily, "Rousse said that I *had* to take him. I have no choice. Therefore I will take much alcohol and pretend he's you. .. only.. gay." She flashed her cute grin the blondes way who couldn't help but laugh at that.
"But then you'd take advantage of him and that wouldn't be what you want right?" Deidre countered taking her own sip.
Sasha's first finger shot into the air as if to say one second, her brows raising at the same time.
"You, my dear Deidre, are brilliant. I never thought of that. I'll just have to keep you in my thoughts then. Besides, I don't think he has half the intelligence of your pinky."
The two laughed, Sasha in a much brighter mood now.
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Re: Out of the Frying Pan...
Date: 3/10/2002 8:00 PM Central Daylight Time
From: TarethThrn
The chain rattled with another impact on the heavy bag it suspended, a dull thud accompanying it as they both chased around the bare cement walls. As the sounds faded, another hard hit shook the chains, this one powerful enough to rattle the overhead beam to which the chain was attached.
Tareth twirled, thrusting both bare fists into the bag's vinyl surface with a quiet grunt. As it swung slightly on its chain back at him, he lowered his shoulder and rushed into it, taking the impact on the back of his neck... a small spray of sweat scattered from his bare skin, a testament to both the time he'd been at this and his preferred apparel while training; simple loose pants and nothing else.
Grunting again, he shoved forward, his bare feet sliding slightly on the cement floor as he pushed against 100 pounds of sand. Reversing the bag's momentum, he lifted it up onto his shoulders and dumped it behind him, like he would an opponent in the ring.
Panting, he deftly stepped aside as the bag gesticulated wildly from being dropped and yanked by its chain, interrupting the decent. Dragging his forearm across his brow, he turns toward the door, finally noticing that someone else is in the small room with him.
The small girl cleared her throat, the grin she wore suddenly switching to apologetic as she held out Tareth's shirt, which had previously been sitting in a puddle on the floor next to the entrance.
He didn't recognize her right off, but the short pale green dress she wore bore a finely embroidered emerald leaf insignia on the breast, Rousse's symbol. As he slowly paced forward to claim his shirt, he surreptitiously glanced at the girl's ears, finding them pointed. Not a big surprise there.
"M'lord Greenleaf sends word that the preparations are complete and would like to know when to expect you, Mr. Thorn." The girl quietly stated, and he couldn't help but think how young her voice sounded. He chided himself for thinking of her that way, she was probably several hundred years older than he.
Quickly tugging the shirt down over his thickly scarred torso, he considered. So it was time to pay the piper. "I'll be in sometime tomorrow morning," he answered, handing the girl.. .messenger... a silver coin from one of the pockets of his jacket, also hanging near the doorway of the dojo.
She nodded, taking the coin and quickly disappearing down the steamy street outside.
Taking down his coat and hanging it over his arm, he plopped the wide hat over his tangled, mussed spikes. He'd go use the showers in the Outback to clean up, these small public facilities didn't have any. He came here to get out of the mainstream, the relative quiet made up for the run-down equipment.
As he stepped out into the warm, muggy air of the street across from the brewery, Avery's warning words of the night before came back to him. He could still very vividly recall that Quest so many years ago. Both of them were more dead than alive and the Outback was in shambles by the time they were finished, thanks to those opals, the red one in particular. He also recalled his own loss of control concerning the stone when they had later fought
for possession of it. Avery hadn't returned to the Outback since those events, at least that's what he gathered from their recent discussion at a TDL event.
And here he was going off to chase it down again. "Call it my need to play with fire," he'd told Avery, for lack of a better answer.
He still couldn't think of anything better, even now.
From: TarethThrn
The chain rattled with another impact on the heavy bag it suspended, a dull thud accompanying it as they both chased around the bare cement walls. As the sounds faded, another hard hit shook the chains, this one powerful enough to rattle the overhead beam to which the chain was attached.
Tareth twirled, thrusting both bare fists into the bag's vinyl surface with a quiet grunt. As it swung slightly on its chain back at him, he lowered his shoulder and rushed into it, taking the impact on the back of his neck... a small spray of sweat scattered from his bare skin, a testament to both the time he'd been at this and his preferred apparel while training; simple loose pants and nothing else.
Grunting again, he shoved forward, his bare feet sliding slightly on the cement floor as he pushed against 100 pounds of sand. Reversing the bag's momentum, he lifted it up onto his shoulders and dumped it behind him, like he would an opponent in the ring.
Panting, he deftly stepped aside as the bag gesticulated wildly from being dropped and yanked by its chain, interrupting the decent. Dragging his forearm across his brow, he turns toward the door, finally noticing that someone else is in the small room with him.
The small girl cleared her throat, the grin she wore suddenly switching to apologetic as she held out Tareth's shirt, which had previously been sitting in a puddle on the floor next to the entrance.
He didn't recognize her right off, but the short pale green dress she wore bore a finely embroidered emerald leaf insignia on the breast, Rousse's symbol. As he slowly paced forward to claim his shirt, he surreptitiously glanced at the girl's ears, finding them pointed. Not a big surprise there.
"M'lord Greenleaf sends word that the preparations are complete and would like to know when to expect you, Mr. Thorn." The girl quietly stated, and he couldn't help but think how young her voice sounded. He chided himself for thinking of her that way, she was probably several hundred years older than he.
Quickly tugging the shirt down over his thickly scarred torso, he considered. So it was time to pay the piper. "I'll be in sometime tomorrow morning," he answered, handing the girl.. .messenger... a silver coin from one of the pockets of his jacket, also hanging near the doorway of the dojo.
She nodded, taking the coin and quickly disappearing down the steamy street outside.
Taking down his coat and hanging it over his arm, he plopped the wide hat over his tangled, mussed spikes. He'd go use the showers in the Outback to clean up, these small public facilities didn't have any. He came here to get out of the mainstream, the relative quiet made up for the run-down equipment.
As he stepped out into the warm, muggy air of the street across from the brewery, Avery's warning words of the night before came back to him. He could still very vividly recall that Quest so many years ago. Both of them were more dead than alive and the Outback was in shambles by the time they were finished, thanks to those opals, the red one in particular. He also recalled his own loss of control concerning the stone when they had later fought
for possession of it. Avery hadn't returned to the Outback since those events, at least that's what he gathered from their recent discussion at a TDL event.
And here he was going off to chase it down again. "Call it my need to play with fire," he'd told Avery, for lack of a better answer.
He still couldn't think of anything better, even now.
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Re: Out of the Frying Pan... (Sasha)
Date: 5/9/2002 10:48 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Sasha Dushku
The raindrops pelted against the cabin's roof as Sasha twisted in the confines of her heavy blankets. A cool breeze was slipping in through the cranked open window, drifting along her face and through the fiery tendrils draped across the pillow. Grey eyes blinked into awareness out into the matching grey sky. She loved the museum, but her little cabin on the side was her favorite. Her bedroom had bright windows
that faced west so she got bright light, but not the glaring heat of the sun until it was well into the afternoon.
On days like this when she got to sleep in it was most yummy, and being able to just stare outside from the sanctity of her bed made her want to stay like that for the whole weekend. Unfortunantly, other matters would need to be attended to that day, so she couldn't in reality do such a thing. She did snuggle down further to enjoy a few more minutes of the rain's dance and the whip of the flag outside that posted the museums isignia. Finally
with a groan she slipped out of the warm comforters embrace and into the somewhat chilly air.
The vanity faced away from the window which gave her both reflecting light, and a chance to stare at the rain more, which of course churned her mind into thinking of the past.
Her mom was a vision of loveliness, the same brilliantly red hair, so dark crimson it seemed of blood ribboning around her shoulders in such a pretty frame. Her eyes were the same grey, green and blue mix, and the same peaches and cream complexion as Sasha.. however, that's where the similiarities ended. Sasha's mom Katrena was soft spoken, timid and married to a monster.
Sasha's favorite memory of her mother was the garden house kept outside of their tiny cabin. It was the only thing the monster never dared to destroy or belittle. It was like a secret place that Sasha as a child could hide in for hours, delighting in the delicate pearl white of the moon flowers, the distinct and soothing fragrance of the sweet peas, and the rich vivid colors of the roses and perinnials that her mother cared for so intensely.
The garden was a wonderous memory for Sasha as it had been a safe haven for her mother.
Katrena suffered heavily from a fear of the outside world and the bright penetrating sunlight. The monster, also known as Gino who was Sasha's father, had been the only one to put up with her ailments and marry her despite them. He however, used them to punish her and keep her doing his biddings. This had been the first to start Sasha's severe dislike of the male gender, the second being her first husband Demetre. They weren't the only
reason her preferences swung only towards women most of the time. From an early age she'd discovered her admirance for the curves of the female form. Demetre just drove it over the edge when he ran off with most of her valueables and commodities.
It had also been her parents relationship that had struck her interest in the land of Mautheril and she'd thrown herself into learning all she could about it. She never thought she'd be able to actually *go* there and live it. Whether she found this Beck guy or not, it'd be a dream come true. Where women ruled all. Men were the ones forced into submission and slavery and made to do the bidding of females. She was practically livid with
excitement.. save for that one final problem. She'd have to take one of those "males" with her. Tareth.
"No pain, no gain." She'd gathered up her belongings that she had packed the night before and went to load up the carriage, bumping into Deidre on her way out.
"Mornin'." The blond replied cheerfully as she hefted one of Sasha's bags to help.
"All the arrangements have been made, as you know, I'm leaving you in charge of everything, if you need me, God Forbid, I don't know how you can get in contact with me, but try through Rousse, the keys to th-"
"Sash?" Deidre's interruption startled her out of her automatic worried state and she tossed her look that way, "Don't worry about it. You've been gone before. We'll be fine. Just don't stay gone forever, and bring me back lots of juicy details!"
The grey eyes locked with the blue faltered a moment, she wanted nothing more than to grab Deidre and just run to Mautheril and stay there forever, but the moment passed and she nodded bravely.
"I know, I'm just, overly worried." She managed a brave grin and kissed the woman's cheek. "You take care of yourself okay?"
The week previous Rousse had sent a messanger up to the musuem to inform her that she needed to get her affairs in order. Tareth had decided to go through with it after all. Sasha was still indecisive on how to feel about him, but she'd packed enough liquor to pull her through. Leaning over to give Deidre a one armed hug and a kiss on the cheek, she took one last look around at the museum admiring the way the weeping willows surrounded the
brick building and the way the ivy creeped up like a protective barrier. The cooling wind of the storm refreshed her as she prepared to leave without too much hesitation. It was after all, her life, her home, and her obsession, but she turned to climb into the awaiting carriage, Rousse was not a patient man, and she had a feeling neither was Tareth.
One last smile and she was tucked away and on her way to Rousse's with the scent of rain left to comfort her.
From: Sasha Dushku
The raindrops pelted against the cabin's roof as Sasha twisted in the confines of her heavy blankets. A cool breeze was slipping in through the cranked open window, drifting along her face and through the fiery tendrils draped across the pillow. Grey eyes blinked into awareness out into the matching grey sky. She loved the museum, but her little cabin on the side was her favorite. Her bedroom had bright windows
that faced west so she got bright light, but not the glaring heat of the sun until it was well into the afternoon.
On days like this when she got to sleep in it was most yummy, and being able to just stare outside from the sanctity of her bed made her want to stay like that for the whole weekend. Unfortunantly, other matters would need to be attended to that day, so she couldn't in reality do such a thing. She did snuggle down further to enjoy a few more minutes of the rain's dance and the whip of the flag outside that posted the museums isignia. Finally
with a groan she slipped out of the warm comforters embrace and into the somewhat chilly air.
The vanity faced away from the window which gave her both reflecting light, and a chance to stare at the rain more, which of course churned her mind into thinking of the past.
Her mom was a vision of loveliness, the same brilliantly red hair, so dark crimson it seemed of blood ribboning around her shoulders in such a pretty frame. Her eyes were the same grey, green and blue mix, and the same peaches and cream complexion as Sasha.. however, that's where the similiarities ended. Sasha's mom Katrena was soft spoken, timid and married to a monster.
Sasha's favorite memory of her mother was the garden house kept outside of their tiny cabin. It was the only thing the monster never dared to destroy or belittle. It was like a secret place that Sasha as a child could hide in for hours, delighting in the delicate pearl white of the moon flowers, the distinct and soothing fragrance of the sweet peas, and the rich vivid colors of the roses and perinnials that her mother cared for so intensely.
The garden was a wonderous memory for Sasha as it had been a safe haven for her mother.
Katrena suffered heavily from a fear of the outside world and the bright penetrating sunlight. The monster, also known as Gino who was Sasha's father, had been the only one to put up with her ailments and marry her despite them. He however, used them to punish her and keep her doing his biddings. This had been the first to start Sasha's severe dislike of the male gender, the second being her first husband Demetre. They weren't the only
reason her preferences swung only towards women most of the time. From an early age she'd discovered her admirance for the curves of the female form. Demetre just drove it over the edge when he ran off with most of her valueables and commodities.
It had also been her parents relationship that had struck her interest in the land of Mautheril and she'd thrown herself into learning all she could about it. She never thought she'd be able to actually *go* there and live it. Whether she found this Beck guy or not, it'd be a dream come true. Where women ruled all. Men were the ones forced into submission and slavery and made to do the bidding of females. She was practically livid with
excitement.. save for that one final problem. She'd have to take one of those "males" with her. Tareth.
"No pain, no gain." She'd gathered up her belongings that she had packed the night before and went to load up the carriage, bumping into Deidre on her way out.
"Mornin'." The blond replied cheerfully as she hefted one of Sasha's bags to help.
"All the arrangements have been made, as you know, I'm leaving you in charge of everything, if you need me, God Forbid, I don't know how you can get in contact with me, but try through Rousse, the keys to th-"
"Sash?" Deidre's interruption startled her out of her automatic worried state and she tossed her look that way, "Don't worry about it. You've been gone before. We'll be fine. Just don't stay gone forever, and bring me back lots of juicy details!"
The grey eyes locked with the blue faltered a moment, she wanted nothing more than to grab Deidre and just run to Mautheril and stay there forever, but the moment passed and she nodded bravely.
"I know, I'm just, overly worried." She managed a brave grin and kissed the woman's cheek. "You take care of yourself okay?"
The week previous Rousse had sent a messanger up to the musuem to inform her that she needed to get her affairs in order. Tareth had decided to go through with it after all. Sasha was still indecisive on how to feel about him, but she'd packed enough liquor to pull her through. Leaning over to give Deidre a one armed hug and a kiss on the cheek, she took one last look around at the museum admiring the way the weeping willows surrounded the
brick building and the way the ivy creeped up like a protective barrier. The cooling wind of the storm refreshed her as she prepared to leave without too much hesitation. It was after all, her life, her home, and her obsession, but she turned to climb into the awaiting carriage, Rousse was not a patient man, and she had a feeling neither was Tareth.
One last smile and she was tucked away and on her way to Rousse's with the scent of rain left to comfort her.