Wednesday, March 4, 2009

>D HAHA. I'm finally getting somewhere with this.

Alrighty. Truth be told, I wouldn't buy any of the items that those celebrities are advertising. I'm not one who actually pays attention to them, and I'm slightly unhappy by the fact that they need to use only the 'best' looking of the stars. I mean, why can't they use normal looking people on advertisements for once? And by far, they don't deserve the money they make. They use it for nothing than to get in tabloids. None of them can handle being out of the spotlight for very long. I mean, charities are always needing money, yet these celebs think they should hog the millions of dollars that they earn. They don't use it right, or not at all. what makes them so special or high and mighty? They should use the money for a good cause, or stop earning it while in the lap of luxury. I swear, they're all made of pathetic. They've got alot of influence on people these days since people adore them becuase they're famousor popular. Like Hanna Montanna. If she was just a normal person advertsing something, her stuff would not sell. It only sells because she's "important". God. These people need lives.

The way Michael Phelps was dropped is completely fair. We don't want our children to see a sports idol smoking an illegal drug. What kind of image would that just give our children? I don't see where people get off thinking this is unfair. He's got loadsof money anyways, so why does it matter?

This is Vic Mignogna, the famous person I studied for the project. He's a goof friend, actor, and musician. I would have him promote the Mily Way bar. It's his favorite snack.

More story nonsense. again.... WARNING:: Language

Amy's post first, then my post.

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Glancing up once more, the boy shifted to sit upon his legs, and bowed slightly.“Introductions, titles, names, honorific’s... Gildor commonly often called regularly as. Like Gildor as vile, worthless, disgusting, hated, hideous, obscene, repulsive, ugly, foul, unpleasant, revolting...” He continued to mutter such words, counting them off of his abnormally long fingers, covered by mangy grey gloves, the tips of which were punctured through by pointed, pitch-black finger nails. He didn’t stop for a single breath as he spoke, almost as if he needed none. His speech didn’t quiet, nor did he strain. He seemed to relax as he spoke, until he finally stopped, his unseen mouth hanging ajar. He looked up to Reith, and stared silently.

A step was taken back as the boy bowed while sitting. This was definitely a very odd person. At least this time she understood what he was saying. It seemed that he was treated unkindly wherever he had come from. Well, if there were names like that being directed at him, he could have been a misfit. Reith was a misfit because of Pathoryne, but never could she imagine the actual difference in the way they were treated. She tilted her head slightly, blinking as he continued to list such names, wondering when he’d pass out due to lack of air. When he finally decided to stop his list of names, Reith clumsily sat down on the ground in front of the boy, using her tails as cushions. “So… You’re Gildor?”
“He reminds me of you. You’re both fucking stupid.”
Once again the claws were clamped down over the lips.

Gildor swallowed hard, nodding. He watched her carefully as she sat, and tugged absently on his clothing. He couldn’t sit still, and he made this very evident through his behavior. Twirling the tattered ends of his cloak around and between his elongated digits, apparently lost in thought.

“…Not never having allowed to being spoken at time longer ever than before…” He said suddenly, an immense feeling of gratefulness, relief and even happiness flowing from him. “Kind, kind, kind Reith be. Upheld converses, gentled wordings… Freed final, this must be.”

He was so restless. Very much so. She began to wonder if he was warm or not, seeing as how even in this season she could sweat from the fur on her arms and legs. Having a thick cloak on his body was probably excruciatingly hot. It looked like he could use a new one as well. She shifted slightly, adjusting her tails as she spoke. She smiled. She was glad he had calmed down. It was much easier to understand him this way. “I guess you could say this is free land.” She said, thinking he meant free in a different way.
Reith stood up, tails flicking gently behind her. “Just head east and you’ll be out of this forest. I have to get going.” She needed to catch something as far as food went, seeing as how if she didn’t eat, then neither she nor Pathoryne would shut up about it in the future. He was always hungry though. Reith just refused to feed him. She gave a small wave, and turned to head off. She released Pathoryne’s lips, and froze shortly after his comment.
“Fucking immigrants.”
“Papa! You’re so mean!”

Panicked, Gildor scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping on his oversized attire.

“Survive cannot alone this can’t one being! Unfamiliar hearings, edibles, every stuffs! Success escaped, failure will living in lonesome…” He began rummaging through the inner pockets of his cloak, before fishing out a torn leather sack. It had countless patch works, and it was dirty.

“Stolen have gotten this for living, temporary delay in of dying.” Out from the sack he pulled a large, foreign fruit, bright in it’s blue color and appearing soft in texture.

“Bite once large satiated one day whole, living life time expire, consume, devour, finish, death afterwards arrive.” He said, staring almost unhappily at the voluptuous fruit. He looked to Reith, his body language pleading.“Death falls on Gildor in loneliness. Cannot this kind, kind, kind Reith assist, help, aid one lowly Gildor?”

Reith turned her head to look over her shoulder.

“Leave him be and get me from fucking grub!” Pathoryne growled, only to be brushed off with a simple shush. He ‘humphed’ and went quiet. How knows how long it had been since he had eaten something. Reith turned around once Gildor pulled out a fruit. Was it a fruit? Or was it some kind of vegetable? It sure as hell wasn’t meat. Maybe it was a fruit. It was colorful enough to be one. She marveled at it, looking up at Gildor. She couldn’t really see much of his face from looking into his hood.
“Is this thing really edible?” She asked curiously, looking at the fruit. “I’ve never seen something like this.” She blinked, folding her arms so that all of the eyes had a view of the fruit. Quite an interesting thing. She looked back up at Gildor. “Well, I suppose I could take you home. Not that my parents will mind.”
“Cuz I ate them.”
“Shut up Papa.”

Gildor managed a crooked smile beneath his hood, excited. Unaffected by Papa’s comments, though whether it was because he didn’t fully comprehended them or simply didn’t mind was unknown, he made his way to Reith’s side.

“Assurance, assurance! Edible very so, may Reith taste desires perhaps she may if.” He said in a jumble, pulling off a piece of the vibrant fruit and offering it out to her.

“Eating compared divinity, heavenly. Not allowed ever was Gildor consumed, punished dreadful red handed caught. Never helped could Gildor, delicious so much very.”

Something so foreign as this was edible? Reith eyed it in disbelief, but if Gildor had been able to eat it before, then it should be alright. Reith reached out to grab the piece of fruit, remembering her lack of thumbs. She needed to use both hands to pick it up, but even that didn’t work. The two tails twitched in frustration. This body just did not want to work for her. Instead, she did to the fruit what she did to Pathoryne – jabbed a claw right into it. That worked. It stuck pretty well, it seemed. Before she placed it in her mouth, Reith curiously sniffed the blue chunk of fruit, having to move it out of Pathoryne’s reach at some point. She pulled it off of her claw with her teeth; one of the only things on her body that seemed normal. A few seconds, and she allowed the taste to set in.

Pleased beyond measure by her trust, gentleness, and above all, kindness, Gildor sliced himself a small piece of the luxurious fruit with the long nail of his slender index finger, placing it in his mouth and chewing slowly, savoring the taste, and then tucked the remaining chunk back into his shoddy leather pouch. After finishing his slice, he looked to Reith, tilting his head to the side.

“Reith miss? Good tasting extravagantly glorious described as just said did I?” Gildor questioned, immensely hoping she enjoyed it.

What was this taste? Ah, there had to be something to compare it to. It was simple to do that with most foods and such. Why couldn’t she do it with this fruit? There should be at least a word or something to describe it. Delicious? No. Heavenly was more like it. No, that can’t be. Even that seemed like an understatement to her. Reith swallowed the piece of fruit, looking up at Gildor. She nodded slightly in response to his question, then turned her gaze downwards to Pathoryne. If it was only the flesh of a human being that filled his stomach properly, then maybe a piece of this fruit would silence his hungry groaning. But Gildor had already put the fruit away. There was no point in having him pull it out again. Oh well. Pathoryne could starve for all she cared. It’s not like Reith felt it anyways. She looked back up at Gildor.

“Grown fruit Fae. Grows kinds many fruit, prey approach fruit, performs Fae terribly, terribly deeds. Terribly Gildor born of. Existence mine, shame, shame, shame…” He became considerably saddened as he stared down at the bag, absently twirling loose hanging strands between his fingers.

“Bring did shame, many pains decades past of…” He paused, trailing a hand down his clothed arm.

“Broken, broken, broken… Broken utterly, completely, devastatingly. Appropriate, Gildor. Awful becomes one such like half-breeds.”

Once again, it became very hard to understand his speech. Reith scratched at the base of the horns, trying to comprehend what he was saying. He had all the right words, but the order he put them in was dreadful. She gave up, and looked down to Pathoryne for help. The eye on her chest shifted upwards, staring right into Gildor’s hood.
“Fae? What the fuck is that?”
“Fae, Papa? Aren’t those the things that follow us around sometimes?”
“No, assface. Those little bullshitters are pixies. Are you fucking retarded?”
Reith recoiled slightly, twiddling her claws silently.

“Sorry, Papa…”

Looking up at Reith, Gildor faltered, and returned the pouch to his inner cloak pocket. Staring at Reith for a moment, he sighed.“Not mattering Fae. Evil, evil, evil.” He folded his arm behind his back, tugging uncomfortably at the cloak. He was slouching, and his overall posture looked absolutely miserable.

“Around not from Gildor, Learned poorly Human, relearned needs Gildor, sees now Reith listened at. Teacher Reith knowing of?” He inquired, quickly grabbing his hood as a swift breeze threatened to blow it off.

“Teacher…? No, I—“
Reith paused as the breeze made an attempt to pull off Gildor’s hood. It seemed he didn’t want it to be removed. She could barely see his face underneath of it. Was he ugly? Deformed? Pretty? She didn’t know. Maybe he was shy? Reith tilted her head curiously; mind wandering off to what he might look like. It seemed to be that today her curiosity was getting the better of her. Usually she’d just go about her own way, not bothering to stop to talk. Also, why had Pathoryne made no move to eat this boy yet? Usually he’d try to eat everyone in sight, so his behavior today was confusing.
“Say, Gil… How come you won’t take your hood off?”

“H-hood? O-o-off? Rem-move?” Gildor stuttered, raising both hands to clutch at the hood. “N-no, can’t. Not never can’t, downed hood revolting, terrible, lautelin, melrouth, atasulrin!” Gildor turned away from Reith, continuing to count off words that would mean nothing to Reith, but with every utterance, a horrific, gruesome, painful memory shocked Gildor’s mind and body. His arms, legs and back began to throb painfully. He fell to his knees, barely catching himself with his arms. He took slow, agonized breaths, eyes welling with uncontrollable tears. He cried out in anguish as a single tear slipped down his cheek, and placed a gloved hand over the pained spot. The action garnered another wince, and he realized why as he pulled his hand away; the cloth was stained a strange bluish purple color that held a strange beauty, like passionflowers in the glow of the moon. Despite the liquids strange color, it gave off a familiar copper smell, one that any predator would recognize, but it was tainted by an otherworldliness that gave it an unappealing after stench.

“No…” He managed meagerly, covering his eyes with his forearm.“Not pained any, more none, escaped did Gildor tried so hard…” He said, barely above a whisper. And yet, despite the rasp his voice had taken to, it was still stunningly beautiful in its tone, and heart-wrenchingly sad in its pain.

Reith stepped back. Until he began speaking gibberish, she understood what he was saying.

“Yay, you made the immigrant cry~” Pathoryne said in a mocking tone. Reith gave him a good jab through one of the eyes as she crouched down.

“I-I’m sorry, Gil…” She breathed, “I didn’t mean…” Her voice trailed off as she felt a warm liquid running down her abdomen. She knew that feeling. There was something that Pathoryne smelled that she did not. He was grinning widely, salivating to no extent. Reith stood up, wiping the liquid off with her claws quickly. She looked down Gildor. His hand was stained a strange color, just like that fruit she had eaten earlier. She took another step back, clamping her hands down over Pathoryne’s lips.
By the way he was salivating, it must have meant that the color on his hand was his blood. It wasn’t all that odd, seeing as how her blood would change to black for about an hour or so after Pathoryne had eaten. It showed who had control over the body. She crouched down once more, keeping her hands over Pathoryne’s mouth.
“I’m sorry. My curiosity got the better of me. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She said softly, feeling her hands move over the force of Pathoryne. He had gone for too long without food; now it didn’t matter what he was eating, human or not. Such a naughty boy he would be for the next few minutes.
“Please, don’t cry.”

Gildor leaned back, sitting on his legs. Closing his eyes, he began to chant softly, melodically. The sound was gentle and soothing, beautiful. His voice stilled the area, and the world took on a dream-like quality. The strange blood on his hand seemed to evaporate into visible white wisps, which slowly made their way under Gildor’s hood. In his concentration, Gildor never noticed his hood slide off of his head, revealing messy, choppy black hair. Long, bluish ears poked out from under the matted locks, the tip missing from one of them. Scars littered the otherwise pretty cerulean flesh upon the left side of his face -and presumably the other half, but it was hard to tell as it was covered by his hair- and as the wisps hovering about his cheek dissipated, one more scar was visible; likely the cut that was bleeding moments ago. The smell of fresh blood disappeared, and Gildor’s song came to an end, his healing magic completed.