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Late Talks

PostPosted: Fri Nov 07, 2008 10:41 pm
by Serpent Axis
"Are you even listening to me!?" the dusky younger woman shrieked. In front of her, sitting on a broken barrel's flat side, was her brother. Mehmen was painting images with a dagger in some mud that clad an old table right under a hole in the rooftop above.

"Of course I am" Mehmen said in a completely desensitized voice as he stared at the table and leaned his chin against his fist.

The dusky woman put her hands on her hips and scowled at him. "Then have I just said, sibling?" she tested.
Mehmen sighed and said softly "some trifle 'bout you, our fellow babbling tavern-prowling spawn o' our mother and some terror or the next" he said in a bored tone.

Just nearly shocked, Jasmal screened at him "w-what?" she tried not to yell at him "I-" she was about to say something more when his voice cut hers abrupt:

"I don't care" he suddenly knifed the words "here you are, whining about having to work with our darling sisters and bear the harsh life 'ere at the docks. Don' I give you enough coin so you and the rest o' you just leave me alone?" irritated, he turns to his startled sister "can't you see that your brother is caught up in love's net?" his voice suddenly softens.

She narrows her eyes at him as he keeps speaking "I frankly don't care to hear more about how sad it is for you that what's-his-name got a dagger in him. Only one thing's on me mind: the beautiful girl I've met." he stands and punches the dagger into the table as he walks towards Jasmal, who stares at him.

"What girl?" she asks and looks at him as she would in a madman.
"The girl" he says as if she is supposed to instinctively know "the one I've met back then somewhere unimportant. The one who's standing there in all my little thoughts ever since." he leans a hand on the wall "her face, her ink, her short black hair and delicious silver skin..."

Jasmal raises a brow "you've met... an elf..."
Mehmen spins in place as if dancing for a moment "met, held, kissed, scared away - it was a perfect day."
Jasmal again looked at him as she would in a madman - "are you feeling alright, Mehmen? what 'ave you been on about?"
Mehmen looks at her with a smile and a demented eye "tis love, dearest sister, love, love, love, love, love..." he grabs her throat in one arm and her waist in the other, then spins her about like a doll. She stares at him now more as she would in a shark than in a brother or even a madman.

"Dearest sister, I believe I am in love - or most likely not. Doesn't matter. I am utterly and completely devoured by an image, a feeling and a memory I'd like to crash into my life and weave out of my dreams. 'Ave ye ever known that feeling, sister?" he stares into his scared sister's eyes and smiles "I have" he says in anger as he throws her on the floor and continues his little dance while she's catching her breath and rubbing her throat.

"Yer mad!" she shoots at him in a choked voice.

Mehmen, on his part, spins around laughing, completely oblivious to his sister's accusation. Jasmal rises from the floor and walks towards the door. On her way she passes near the muddy table. Looking for a moment at the scribbled image of an elven girl poorly drawn, the dagger stuck in her mouth. She looks at her brother with a sickened stare as she leaves.