Willow jerked her hand back and kicked Austin in the shin. She stumbled backwards cradling her bandaged hand. "I'm fine." she snapped "I can manage myself."
Austin jumped back and accidently let out a pained growl. A very real sounding growl. "Ow." He muttered.
"Sorry." He sighed, looking at the ground. "I just… sorry. Sorry."
You're an idiot. He thought. Of course she doesn't want to let you see it, how often do you let people see your stupid cuts? Idiot.
Austin sighed again. "Sorry. …To answer your question I… do make this pretty often. …Pretty much every other night when I don't get sleep. It's a ritual at this point."
He stirred the concoction once more, before pouring it into two mugs. He grabbed one and started sipping. "Enjoy." He muttered.
Jarrod noticed Hemlock get quiet and followed suit, taking a look into the room. From his guess, the tall singing man was the one that had set him off. The one with crimson eyes. Jarrod then noticed that Felix was pretty much ignoring the man.
"It's alright Hemlock, he isn't hostile. At least right now. Otherwise, Felix would be at his throat." Jarrod said easing up.
(Sorry my reply is so short, I couldn’t think of anything else to write)
Arwood shrugged, turning to the piano player, he wasn’t reassured, the man looked so much like the terrible beasts.
“Do you know the song of the Green Gate?” He asked, watching Felix’s fingers fly across the black and white keys in perfect rhythm.
(Sorry my reply is so short, I couldn’t think of anything else to write)
Arwood shrugged, turning to the piano player, he wasn’t reassured, the man looked so much like the terrible beasts.
“Do you know the song of the Green Gate?” He asked, watching Felix’s fingers fly across the black and white keys in perfect rhythm.
(It's fine)
Felix looked up, but didn't stop playing. "Oh hello there. Didn't notice you. The Song of the Green Gate? I don't think so, how's it go?"
Felix spotted Jarrod and rolled his eyes. "Come to nag me for playing potentially dangerous pianos?"
"No. Just wandering around." Jarrod replied, folding his arms. "I'm not your mom after all, I have other things to worry about."
Arwood gave a low chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. “I am not one known for singing,” he indicated the piano, “nor do I possess the art of performing on any instrument.” He walked around the large instrument to stand beside Felix. The piano had more keys than the one he was used to playing upon. He pressed a few chords humming quietly a slow tune, trying to find the next chords and failing. He clenched his jaw feeling utterly foolish after hearing Felix and the larger man's talent. He ceased and shrugged nonchalantly, “I cannot remember, this piano is different from the one I use.”
Arwood gave a low chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. “I am not one known for singing,” he indicated the piano, “nor do I possess the art of performing on any instrument.” He walked around the large instrument to stand beside Felix. The piano had more keys than the one he was used to playing upon. He pressed a few chords humming quietly a slow tune, trying to find the next chords and failing. He clenched his jaw feeling utterly foolish after hearing Felix and the larger man's talent. He ceased and shrugged nonchalantly, “I cannot remember, this piano is different from the one I use.”
"Oh well." Felix replied. "I'm not surprised you don't really play any instrument. It takes ages to get good enough that playing anything feels worth it. I mean, look at me. I've been playing for 70 something years and there are still people better than me out there."
Felix shook his head. "It's a shame music requires either talent or a life time of practice. It's discouraging."
"Just the way the world works." Vozreal said, walking by them
Mashka walked up to them, extending a slender white hand. "Does anyone want to dance with me?"
"I wouldn't mind." Vozreal said, grabbing her hand
Mashka giggled and started to dance, twirling on one foot. Her hair whipped the piano, Vozreal's chest, and everyone else within a few feet.
"I only know how to slow dance."
"What's slow dancing?" She'd let go of his hand. Having been raised, completely alone, in a vast old mansion with nobody to talk to but the mansion itself, she had no idea that you could dance with other people. Dancing, to Mashka, had always been individual - but then again, everything had always been individual.
"You don't know what slow dancing is?"
"I know how to dance slowly." She did so, giggling as the twigs curled around her toes and feet.
"But that's not the same thing."
"No, I'm dancing slowly, see." She held a pirouette.
"Slow dancing involves two people."
She blinked innocently at him. "I don't know how to do that."
"Never mind…" He walked off.
"Okay then." He grabbed her hand and raised it up. He began to teach her how to slow dancing
Mashka laughed, her skin glowing brightly. She was a quick learner and a good dancer, graceful and balletic.
"Oh well." Felix replied. "I'm not surprised you don't really play any instrument. It takes ages to get good enough that playing anything feels worth it. I mean, look at me. I've been playing for 70 something years and there are still people better than me out there."
Felix shook his head. "It's a shame music requires either talent or a life time of practice. It's discouraging."
Arwood glanced at Felix wondering how old he really was. “I know someone who has been playing the piano for quite a long while, I believe it would be very interesting to see you two play together. She is extraordinary at it, and was going to teach me,” He smiled raising a roughened right hand, “wanted to try and put grace where none existed.” He turned to watch Mashka and the new arrival dance slowly about the ballroom when he decided to ask his question. “How long have you lived Felix?”
Arwood glanced at Felix wondering how old he really was. “I know someone who has been playing the piano for quite a long while, I believe it would be very interesting to see you two play together. She is extraordinary at it, and was going to teach me,” He smiled raising a roughened right hand, “wanted to try and put grace where none existed.” He turned to watch Mashka and the new arrival dance slowly about the ballroom when he decided to ask his question. “How long have you lived Felix?”
"I'm a nice and young 106 years old!" Felix replied, striking a pose. "I don't look a day over 17, do I? I haven't aged since the 30's, back when I was still smuggling booze over the border. I still kinda miss those days, but I do love modern weaponry."
“Then we are similar,” Arwood smiled, “I am a hundred 110 and do not look a day over 26.” He grabbed a chair and sat down, “I am not immortal so I age, just slower than most.” What Jedrek wouldn’t give to be here. “I have asked Jarrod the same question but his answer was not satisfactory for my inquisitive mind. Where I hail from, you are either born with magic, given to you as a gift, or stolen. How did you become a god?”
“Then we are similar,” Arwood smiled, “I am a hundred 110 and do not look a day over 30.” He grabbed a chair and sat down, “I am not immortal so I age, just slower than most.” What Jedrek wouldn’t give to be here. “I have asked Jarrod the same question but his answer was not satisfactory for my inquisitive mind. Where I hail from, you are either born with magic, given to you as a gift, or stolen. How did you become a god?”
Felix gave Arwood a look, then turned to Jarrod. "Has this guy got a screw loose or something?"
"Manners, Felix. He's from another plane of reality so his rules of magic are different than ours." Jarrod replied.
"Another plane of.. I'm not going to bother. Anyways," Felix turned back to Arwood. "In our universe, gods are basically chosen at random. Nobody's aren't sure if you're born destined to be a god or if anybody could be chosen, but the one unifying factor is that the gods are embodiments of whatever they are the god of. For example, I became a god of luck while fixing a card game, or in other words, I was manipulating the chances of the players winning. As a result, I stopped aging and can now manipulate anything relating to luck with relative ease, compared to others. My powers grow the longer I live. I am very killable however, so I'm not some deity. Just an old guy."
Felix gave Arwood a look, then turned to Jarrod. "Has this guy got a screw loose or something?"
"Manners, Felix. He's from another plane of reality so his rules of magic are different than ours." Jarrod replied.
"Another plane of.. I'm not going to bother. Anyways," Felix turned back to Arwood. "In our universe, gods are basically chosen at random. Nobody's aren't sure if you're born destined to be a god or if anybody could be chosen, but the one unifying factor is that the gods are embodiments of whatever they are the god of. For example, I became a god of luck while fixing a card game, or in other words, I was manipulating the chances of the players winning. As a result, I stopped aging and can now manipulate anything relating to luck with relative ease, compared to others. My powers grow the longer I live. I am very killable however, so I'm not some deity. Just an old guy."
Arwood frowned in confusion, Felix and Jarrod’s gods must be very different from his own. "I do not mean to sound ignorant," Arwood began, "I would just like to understand the differences between my home and yours." He took a deep breath and asked his first set of questions. "So, you just bestow luck upon individuals, nothing more? You do not gain skills like healing or enhance strength and agility? There must be some positive attributes to being a god other than living a long life and receiving sacrifices from society or am I mistaken?”
"YOUR GODS GET SACRIFICES" Felix shouted. "Jarrod, where's my sacrifices?!"
"I already let you live in my house, what more do you want." Jarrod replied.
"UhhhHh. No, I don't get sacrifices. The benefits are that I don't get drunk unless I drink a huge amount of liquor, I don't get sick and I'm just better at a certain area of magic than any human can ever be. I'm able to use magic to adjust the chances of something happening. I can basically multiply the chance of something happening. For example:" Felix stared bug eyed at Hemlock for a solid minute, and looked like he might begin to sweat despite not appearing to do anything exhausting.
Mashka caught sight of the piano player and began to giggle. Hysterically.
Arwood’s smile vanished, he didn’t like the look Felix was giving him and his eyes roam to look about the room searching for anything out of place.
“What are you doing? If you are multiplying my chances of things happening, please stop.” He spoke kindly but his blue eyes lost their fun and stared at Feliz in a hard gaze. “Most of my unexpected “chances” never end well and I am in a place I do not know and you are starting to make me very uncomfortable.”
Arwood’s smile vanished, he didn’t like the look Felix was giving him and his eyes roam to look about the room searching for anything out of place.
“What are you doing? If you are multiplying my chances of things happening, please stop.” He spoke kindly but his blue eyes lost their fun and stared at Feliz in a hard gaze. “Most of my unexpected “chances” never end well and I am in a place I do not know and you are starting to make me very uncomfortable.”
Felix stopped, chuckling. "I was trying to increase the chances of you turning into a fish, but since the chance is a statistical zero, I was basically doing nothing. I'd have to multiply the chance of that happening by something like billions, and the best I can do is about 10s, 20s or so right now. The point I'm trying to make is that I can't "luck something into existence". It has to be possible first. Something like the chance of it raining, or the chance of a bullet missing you."
