Paint me a smile[Open|Jasmyn?|xMod]

[Mesomorto]

Second cycle of Aperitus, Spring of Era XV
It is early morning.

A lone figure moved along the streets of the mercantile district, blending in the crowd. It was amazing how the same situation one could consider as dangerous could be turned to one's advantage. In fact, for a person who did not want to receive people's attention, seeking to not be the prey of curious eyes, walking in a crowded place would seem dangerous or at least something to avoid. But Mesomorto learned that sometimes humans seemed so occupied by their burden that they did not notice a half dead young man walking at their side.

The young man, cloaked entirely, arrived in the late brightenings of winter to the isle. His life in Tyrsvale was no longer sufficient for a mind that was hungry for new experiences and the occupation of undertaker, while it gave him the serenity to think, was not very rewarding in terms of crowns. So he was in Demios, a new home for him and a new start; but he yet needed to find a way to earn crowns. But with a face like the one he was graced with, he could not simply present at the local blacksmith and ask for apprenticeship. No, most people would be scared to death and try to stab him whatever pointy item they'd find.

Mesomorto was not a person to stop at the first difficulty. After all, even death sis not stop and he came back from the Umblat. How, why and for what duration, the seemingly human did not know. There was so much he didn't have an explanation for. Why was he alive in a dead's body? Why was he raised by a goblin female instead of a human one? Why he always dreamt of a elf lady trying to strangle him? He would seek answers, but he was not sure there were answers at all.

But the most current question was: what could he do about his face. Of course, the cloak was giving him solace for a while but he knew too well that it was but a temporary solution. He could disguise, yes but how? He had no knowledge apart from using herbs to heal simple wounds and stomach illnesses. He needed to find someone who could teach him the art of disguise. But meanwhile, he walked, his stomach growling in anger. He had only few crowns left since he took a room at a local tavern, and he was not yet starving to finally use those crowns to buy food.

[Jasmyn Jewel]

The brightenings illumination has begun to kiss everything that it possibly could with it's tender rays, including an Esh'lahier Elf who just so happens to be out and about on such a fine spring morning. It would be a good day to explore the places in Demios, even if she had to do it alone Jasmyn didn't seem to mind. Well she really wasn't alone. Jas was surprised to see that many were out and about already this morning.

As Jasmyn walked she noted all of the blooming flowers. The smell of them drifted across the light spring breeze and found her nose. Softly she groaned as her head lifted in order to gain all of their scent that she could possibly steal. Indeed she was glad that the season had finally changed. Now everything was being reborn. The land was coming to life. Energy was all around them and Jasmyn just wanted to soak it all in.

Her eyes found pleasure in gazing about, even at people that she didn't know. She imagined what their life was like and what they were thinking. Jas wondered if everyone realized just how blessed they truly were. They were alive and able to walk from place to place, able to be here... breathing... smelling... seeing... tasting... hearing... and tasting life for free.

Indeed it's a grand day....

[Altriak]

OOCTop of the brightenin' to ya. Don't mind me as I join in.

The date was only the third cycle of Cryxatum, and Altriak had already been exhausted by much of the research he had been doing for his current gadgeteering project under Klue. Thus, the plump gnome figured he would take a walk in the morning to relieve the stressful tensions that were building up. He, of course, also brought along about a dozen pieces of large fruit as a snack to fill his never ending pit of a stomach. On his right shoulder sat Pudgy, a fat hamster nibbling on his first of many carrots for the brightening.

The gnome was, at least, happy about the changing of season. Winter didn't agree much with the gnome, especially considering the fact that he never changed clothes to suit the weather. Every brightening he wore the same thing--bright blue pants, a bright blue shirt, a matching pointy wizards hat, and a pink cloak. Spring, however, also brought people into the streets of the Mercantile district, all of them merrily talking, shopping, or heading to their jobs to make ends meet, oblivious to everything else around them. It was so orderly. Too orderly, really...

The gnome leaned against one of the chairs at a local eatery, staring at one of his sling pouches, remembering what he had purchased a few months before. Reaching into the pouch, he brought out two oddly looking glass balls, both with a unique smokey coloring to them. Inside one swirled a dark grey, completely opaque the whole way though. The second, a slimy deathly green, twisting around itself, trying to escape the container it was held in.

The gnome watched the glass balls, deep in thought, twirling them between his fingers in his right hand...

[Mesomorto]

The sensation of hunger was still gripping the young man as he made his way further. But even as great his need to fill his stomach he knew that he couldn't just enter the local tavern and show his face and ask for a meal, no he couldn't. It was a rather new situation to him, since his time spent at Trysvale, Mesomorto did only have to take care of the graveyard and his only interaction with the society was with Father Melancholy. So to be there in the middle of a city with thousands of souls in the streets and as much eyes to pry on his strange being. The world seemed all of a sudden a cruel place to the barely adolescent man, harsh to every of his breaths and even rough to his own existence. Mesomorto never held his name so truthfully than that moment, he was truly a half dead walking among the people of a cruel world, not able to live and yet not yet dead.

He pondered a moment about fleeing, returning to the graveyard, or even to the woods where he always lived. But it would be nonsense, Orumata died and he was no longer able to live alone in the wilderness. Of course, he had the basic survival knowledge and he knew how to use the herbs to cure his wound, but he knew he was no longer one to return to the woods, he was not a goblin although he spoke their tongue and was raised by a goblin. He was yet not a human nor was he a elf. What was he would remain a question.

But all the thoughts and the storm that raged in his mind did only strengthen the call of his stomach and he felt tired, empty of all energy. It was then that a reflection of colours and light caught his eye. For a creature that lived in the darkness and whose skin was as grey as a sad autumn evening, Mesomorto loved colours and the way they blended. His clothes, that he bought but that he never put outside were of calm blue with purple and red flowers painted on fine silk. The young man longed for the brightening he would be able to walk the streets with those colours to show the world. So the reflection of the light through the glass globes a man was holding nearly hypnotized the young man, concentrating all his attention on them. He did not really notice the race of the holder, his vision blurred from the combined effect of hunger and of the light that was cast on his face.

Unfortunately, as he walked further like an insect that would fly toward the fire to burn, he didn't take care any more about his steps and all his being was transfixed by the swirling light, the dancing colours. Then came the shock, the collision, he stumbled and fell with no hope to catch himself. He didn't knew well why he fell and he was not at all aware that he just hit a fine woman and sent her too off balance. In his desperate course to the ground, Mesomorto couldn't take his eyes off the globes of glass.

The contact with the floor was enough to wake the mind of the half human. What did happen? Where was he? Who was there. Next to Jasmyn lay a young man whose head was cloaked. But to her, and only her from the place she was, his face was plainly visible. And she would see it: the horror. His face was grey, traces of a dead blood stain all over his skin. She would see a dead face, a man who died a long ago but who didn't accept to leave the material plane. His features were clean and there were no scars, no petrification, only the aura of death and those blue lips of a last breath.

Mesomorto realised in a sudden what position he was in and he would grab the cloak and put it again to veil his ugliness. He didn't know what beauty was and so he was not aware of his ugliness but he knew his face was strange, enough to send fear in the commoner's hearts. He hid his face and wished again the world were a bit less cruel.

[Jasmyn Jewel]

Jas noted everything that was happening around her. The public market seemed more like a circus then a place to sell things but then again it was all in the way a person wished to market their merchandise. Jasmyn could appreciate that, very much so.

For a moment she watched as the gnome took something out of his pocket, glass balls it seems. Jas wasn't sure if he noticed her watching him or not but her attention was quickly thwarted to another, a young man that fell at her feet. Immediately the Esh noted his facial features. She automatically assumed that something really bad happened to him. In truth he appeared as though that he was death that warmed over.

Not meaning to but Jas gasped in a soft breath. Who was he? What was he? The female noted his blue lips and the expression of surprise on his lifeless features wasn't hard to discern. He was just as startled as she was and so without further ado Jas leaned down in order to help him to his feet, that is 'if' he wanted her assistance in the first place. She spoke softly to him, wanting to not alert the others in the Market so much. "Here... Allow me to help you?"