[html] mall-caps;">TABLE BY MISERY
Josiah was a curious creature by nature, and had already taken to exploring as much of his new territory as possible. Josiah’s hair was tied back now, as it typically was when he went on long journeys. His travels took him today to Die Bohrung, a massive prison located on an island that could only be accessed by a drawbridge. Josiah had pent an hour and a half reaching the other side, mostly because he had not felt the need to be in any rush.
Now, he was finally at the prison’s entrance. The signs upon the chain link fence showed that Josiah was not the first to express a desire in entering the prison, for both Mother Nature and brute force had worn the chain link fence into a guard no more effective than if it had been made of silly putty.
Josiah made his way into the prison without much difficulty and began to pace the cells, Zor, his pet rat tucked neatly into his pants pocket, where only his small white head could be seen. Josiah scratched his companion’s head as he walked, stopping occasionally to view a cell, some of which had writing upon them. Various vulgar messages were written upon the walls, other messages showed signs that their authors had lost sanity. Josiah reached out to trace the words with one dark finger, intrigued by the habits of imprisoning that humans had used.
[html] | Having discovered an interest in this grimy penitentiary when he had walked the island with the charming ivory Lykoi hybrid, Tamerlane returned on his own the following week to dig up some history on the place. Only a few minutes after treading the dead, frosty grass that surrounded the structure, he was already walking the dark corridors, light from the sky outside slanting in through the encrusted windows. Turning his grey-black eyes towards the thick metal of the prison bars, he scanned the corridor up ahead. It loomed on forever. As Tamerlane walked out of the shadows, he found himself approaching another male – rugged and well-built, like the building through which they both roamed. I wonder what the chances are, he mused, his voice soft enough to avoid a strident echo, of us both being ghosts of the prisoners that perished here. |
[/html]
[html] mall-caps;">TABLE BY MISERY
Josiah had been lost in another world when the newcomer had arrived. He’d felt as though he was a prisoner himself here, trapped for however long the sentence would last, most for life, to die in these cells just like the creatures at the amusement park from where Josiah had recently visited. He wondered what the worst of crimes had been, and how many of the prisoners had died innocent, while the cruel world around them had been so sure they were guilty.
Josiah did not flinch when the male’s voice reached his ears, for it was soft-spoken and almost soothing. He turned to face his companion, who was a sturdy looking creature who Josiah thought seemed like someone who had traveled himself. "I would say,” he countered, "That such chances are not likely,” he stated quietly, before adding offhandedly, "But I like to think that anything is possible.” The words were matter of fact and almost dreamily stated as his hands continued to caress the carvings upon the walls. Messages of lost souls.
[html] | A spark of amusement perched elegantly in his eye at the stranger’s serious consideration of his suggestion. In a literal sense, yes it was unlikely that they were – as they spoke – a pair of ghosts that had been here all along. That was, unless one spoke of reincarnation and believed fully in the far-flung concept. Tamerlane’s eyes turned up towards the ravaged ceiling once more, before returning to the pale cerulean gaze of the stranger. I think it’s likely enough. He ran his fingers gently over the incredibly grimy wall on his right. This place appears to be so established and sturdy that it feels like it’s welcoming every visitor as a prisoner anyway. I’ve rarely seen such a… confident structure. |
[/html]
[html] mall-caps;">TABLE BY MISERY
Josiah decided that this man was interesting enough based solely on appearance and from the little that he’d heard of him so far, he seemed to be just as inwardly intriguing. The prison was a massive establishment that likely had been the final resting place to a great mass of criminals. Within these walls, Josiah found himself with a strange feeling of weakness, as though he himself were subject to the tortures that the prisoners had endured.
At the male’s comments, Josiah nodded in agreement. "It’s funny, that the most magnificent of things could be home to the worst examples of mankind,” he offered, taking a step forward to reach bars that seemed relatively intact. His thick hands fell now to the iron bars, holding them just as a prisoner might have, staring out into the dark scene that would be all he ever saw until the day he died.
"I’m Josiah, by the way,” he said softly. "You?”
[html] | I think these ‘worst examples’ you speak of are actually quite magnificent in themselves, Tamerlane responded unconventionally, not caring to elaborate. Corrupt and immoral individuals were, to Tamerlane, creatures with a story to tell – thus were interesting, and, paired with an extensive life of intricate experiences, potentially magnificent. But that did not contradict the fact that they were still corrupt and immoral. He thought grime and death could be beautiful; the closed-minded might call this naïve, but to think of things in such a perspective was in fact open-minded. Tamerlane, he replied to Josiah’s introduction. What do you know of this place? |
[/html]
[html] mall-caps;">TABLE BY MISERY
Josiah pondered the male’s words, but could not bring himself to agree. The inhabitants of the penitentiary had perhaps been intriguing, but Josiah could not bring himself to believe that cold blooded killers and doers of various other horrendous crimes could possibly be magnificent. ”I suppose it would depend on what you view as magnificent,” he countered, not wishing to stir up an argument but merely sharing his thoughts on the matter.
The male shared his name as Tamerlane, an interesting one, in Josiah’s mind. ”Very little,” he admitted, glancing around at the ceilings of the prison. ”In fact, I know very little of Bleeding Souls in itself. I’ve only recently come to these lands,” he offered, shrugging his shoulders slightly as the white rat squirmed about in his pocket. ”Have you been in ‘Souls for very long?”
[html] | A killer or a thief could be magnificent, he responded to Josiah’s words, though didn’t explain further. One was not defined by a single action. If an individual purposefully killed someone in cold blood, then yes they were dangerous, immoral and crooked, but one could not define them by it. Tamerlane was more open-minded than that; as had been established more than enough by now. At the question, Tamerlane shook his head briefly – both of them, it seemed, were relatively new to Bleeding Souls, though Tamerlane native enough by now. His eyes were attracted to the sudden movement of a rodent whose smell had, up until now, been masked by that of the penitentiary. That rat’s got a pocket around it, he observed. |
[/html]
[html] mall-caps;">TABLE BY MISERY
Josiah listened to his words with a new curiosity about the man before him. He supposed his words were true enough, but Josiah’s own generally kind nature disallowed him from seeing someone capable of such cruelty as a magnificent person. Josiah, at a loss for words now, did not respond with more than a nod of understanding.
The words that fell from Tamerlane’s mouth brought the corners of the male’s mouth upward. He had a funny way of thinking, this male, but it was soothing nonetheless, Josiah liked it. ”Indeed,” he commented, reaching in to pull out the small rodent. ”His name is Zor,” he offered, unsure how much Tamerlane would really care, but feeling it only just that he introduce him now.
[html] | The male managed to notice that Tamerlane’s words were a joke, rather than an exceedingly retarded way of wording things. Often, his humour was dark and deadpan, dipping into sarcasm and prizing highly the value of a witty mind. As Zor was introduced, Tamerlane held out his hand to the rat, offering it an unfamiliar perch if it so desired. And what’s Zor’s story? he asked. |
[/html]
[html] mall-caps;">TABLE BY MISERY
Josiah was glad to see that Zor’s presence was welcomed for a second time by a citizen of ‘Souls. The white rat sniffed at the extended hand for a moment before hopping off of his owner’s and onto the unfamiliar one. Josiah’s eyes trained on his pet for a moment before returning to Tamerlane as he spoke; sure that Zor was quiet literally in good hands.
”Well, I traveled for two years before I came to ‘Souls. I make all kinds of jewelry and I used to trade it in order for the necessities. In my travels, I came upon a man who desperately wanted a diamond ring off of me, but had nothing of value to trade. The man then offered me a rat and I surprised even myself by taking him up on the offer,” he said, reliving the story, a gleam in his eye. ”Zor was young then, just recently weaned, and we grew very close. I take him everywhere,” he finished reaching out to stroke the animal, but allowing him to remain in Tamerlane’s hands.
[html] | The sleek rat flowed onto Tamerlane’s hand, and he held it up as if to look at it closer, tipping it gently onto his rough knuckles. A jeweller, hm? he said as he listened to Josiah’s story, still watching Zor squeak over the back of his long hand. I imagine that’s brought you to some interesting places. For one thing could be said for sure about Josiah; he was a traveller. Other than that, Tamerlane settled on no sure facts about him. One could say that Josiah's language wasn't all that good -- as he said "off of", which was tantamount to a George Bush-ism -- and also that he wasn't entirely sure about the value of bargaining skills, as he had swapped a diamond ring for... well, a rat. |
[/html]
[html] mall-caps;">TABLE BY MISERY
Josiah was a content man, who had always been happy with the simple things in life. Good health, enjoying what you do, all of it. Josiah had been fortunate enough to have quite a privileged life by his own standards. And as Tamerlane had pointed out, it was true that he had been to various interesting places. ”Yes, I have seen many wonders,” he nodded, running a hand lightly over his chin.
”But tell me, Tamerlane, what has brought you to Bleeding Souls?” The question did not have to be answered, for Josiah was not one to pry into the personal lives of those around him, but he figured that if Tamerlane had asked about his own life, it was acceptable to ask for answers in return.
[html] | Tamerlane thought vaguely that if it was true that the male considered some of the things he had seen “wonders”, then he would have expanded or elaborated in some way, or at least adopted a tone that was far less dismissive. He thought that perhaps Josiah was less of a heartfelt traveller, and more of a person simply going from A to B. This was more evident than ever as the sturdy male moved the conversation on, asking Tamerlane of his own life (a subject on which none had ever discovered solid facts; and they never would). The wind, I suppose, he replied. I joined Storm for the simple reason that I had never lived there before. |
[/html]
[html] mall-caps;">TABLE BY MISERY
Josiah listened quietly, deciding that the male was really quite peculiar, and despite his interesting words, he found it a bit frustrating how much of a mystery the male chose to lead his life in. True, Josiah hadn’t shared much himself, but the male hadn’t asked for elaboration and Josiah had not felt the need to provide it.
”So you are a member of Storm,” he commented, more to himself than to Tamerlane. Josiah had not thought to ask the male where he came from, for Josiah was a member of Jaded Shadows and was not well educated on the neighboring packs in the area. ”Is it nice there?” he asked, sure that Tamerlane would provide an answer that was far more in depth and thoughtful than what Josiah was asking for.
[html] | Tamerlane was not one for meaningless small-talk. After all, his first words to Josiah had been musings of ghosts and likelihood of their own parts to play. So he actually ignored the handsome male when said creature decided to dip into the lowest level of small-talk: Is it nice there? Tamerlane leant against the wall and gazed up into the rusty struts of the black ceiling. I know so little of these packs of 'Souls. I've hustled more and more knowledge, but there is simply so much to know... are you a member of a pack with a chronicle worth hearing? he asked, pierced ear perked curiously in interest. |
[/html]
|
