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A Golden Afternoon

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A Golden Afternoon Empty A Golden Afternoon

Post by Karimah Mon May 31, 2021 3:22 am

A Golden Afternoon Postytemp


---



At that moment a cry arose among the citizens and the travelers foreign to Engloria: “A ghost! A ghost! Run for your pitiful lives!”

A bizarre small ball of light flew ever faster through the ancient city, and left behind it a trail of blue exuberant smoke as the curious thing flitted towards a small turn to escape the bewildered and astonished pedestrians.

The following crowd noisily parted, and gave passage to the mystical and strange orb that had only just emerged from the aforementioned route to find a marketplace littered with the confused tittering of people.

It was the genie in her purest form. Others thought, however, that she might have been something else entirely like:

“A banshee! No! A poltergeist!” said a merchant, trembling in the sea of his fear.

This possibly rare creature appeared, even in all the consternation she was met with, to fear the scrambling mass more than they did her. Her panic snowballed, wondering if they acknowledged her as a sort of monster or if there truly was a ghost tailing her. Everything in this plane of existence put her mind in a constant pandemonium; her kind were known to possess magic in a world solely dominated by humans and otherworldly laws but there was nothing of higher power than the jinn and yet such a concept didn’t apply to this peculiar side of the cosmos. Magical diversity existed here and as such unpredictability did not go unrecognized and it made her question things.

She did not show any signs of stopping; she zipped past fine architecture she might have marveled over had she not been in such a rush and arrived at a narrow path, squeezed through the tight valley, discovered a lush wonderland that was positively filled to the brim with flowers, and indulged in a desperate thought of where a glowing smoke bomb like her could hide.

Why could they have not confused her for an unsightly cloud of flatulence and leave well enough alone? That was quite gross to think about, but it had potential. Too much potential. That would be a very good plan B. At last she came across a lovely setup that reminded her of home and seated herself hurriedly upon a plush pillow, and Karimah was able to materialize a body that blossomed from a generous plume of smoke. At that very moment, one of her golden bracelets unfastened and fell. It rolled vicariously and dropped on its side; when it stopped rolling the charming reveal of a fine collection had captured her eye. But before she could get carried away and start touching everything, Karimah realized that upon her lap was the lamp.

She blinked as she might have seen another of a similar likeness to it in that pretty display. How she looked at her lamp and then the other like a deer caught in the headlights. Oh, what if they had more of these? They could have mistaken her for a thief!

“I can understand how this might appear to you,” she nearly stammered with an embarrassed smile, “but I didn’t steal this one from you.” She revealed the glossy exterior of her home, but then cursed her wording. This one? Really. Had she stolen another?

“No, that isn’t right. Please, don’t misunderstand me. I am a very simple-minded cloud of sparkling flatulence! ” Blurted the stressed genie, not even taking a second of her time to notice if the person was still listening. She wrung at her green dress and fell forward with the lamp still in her arms, her long silvery hair sprawled about as she awkwardly pressed her face into the ground and murmured into it like it was the kindest thing in her universe.




Word Count; 624
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A Golden Afternoon Empty Re: A Golden Afternoon

Post by Saeven Mon Jun 07, 2021 11:05 pm

730 words
an image in my head
calling for blue skies
Not many were aware of the little shop of fortunes which frequented Engloria’s beautiful gardens and those who did cited their fateful encounter through curious and often exaggerated tales. Throughout what seemed like nearly half a century the stories would begin to stray from their origins at a ludicrous pace. By word of mouth the people had begun calling him a shaman, an exorcist, and even a devil in disguise. The latter being the most confusing and offensive of them all. It had caused the already recluse elf to resign himself – defeated by all the misunderstandings and rumors, yet never choosing to clear his name – to the more inconspicuous areas of the Royal Rose Park.

Surrounding himself by all sorts of greenery, his colorful makeshift shop was nothing more than a plush carpet and wooden trunk tucked away in some unnamed flower-filled nook. Yet to those who would accidentally stumble upon it their eyes would be welcomed with a trove of glittering treasures and trinkets displayed upon the eclectic mash of colors and fabrics. At its center, a man with pointed ears and pale skin wearing robes of equally colorful design would sit perched on his cushion ready to serve the ever-curious eye. He would tell them to take a seat and the rest would be history.

For Saeven, this had been his life. Monotone. Routine. Safe.

He reminisced. The thoughts of his life prior to this afternoon brought upon by a distant commotion. Silly, as always. Humans could be so silly sometimes. A light smile graced his face as he entertained the thought, his slender fingers instinctively clutching the red book he had been reading prior to the screams and shouts closer to his face in an embarrassed fit. What if it truly WAS a ghost?

Before he could be lost in his even sillier musings, the wind drew his attention to the swaying bushes and flowers causing him to completely dismiss the ball of light zipping through the air and materializing before him. Saeven had caught but a glimpse of it before the ball had burst into a cloud of smoke. He recoiled on sight, bringing the book to his to chest in a sprawled mess. He froze. Maybe the humans had held some truth to their cries and for that second did his heart skip a fearful beat. Yet sitting before him was no ghost – only a girl. A very scared girl and a lamp very similar to one of his own.

Hesitantly did he lean forward, stopping only a few inches away from her face. The girl’s doe-eyed glances at his collection and stammering, nervous speech had been enough to calm his still-beating heart. She meant no harm, it seemed. She had been as surprised as he and for a second it seemed the both parties basked in the sentiment before the silence was broken by the silver-haired stranger.

“Ah,” dropping the book it bounced off his lap, then landed flat on her head, before its contents spilled open next to her bowing form against the ground. Depicted on it were small scenes of men and women entangled in sometimes suggestive and otherwise implicit acts, contrasted only by the heaps of text that served as a simple but useless censor. He had brought his hands up as a means to stop her from apologizing, but as the dreaded book bonked her, he found himself apologizing in her stead.

“Ah! Forgive me, I was–”

His soft-spoken outburst had been drowned out by her much louder one as she called herself a sparkling cloud of flatulence, completely shifting his thought process.

“What?” a nervous chuckle escaped him, and then he had to cover his mouth to stifle a laugh. “A sparkling cloud of flatulence, you say? Did the wind carry you in my direction? I must say that the flowers well mask the smell,” Saeven joked, finding the situation much too amusing as it had been a rather slow day for his little shop. A small glint caught his attention, and he noted a golden bracelet that had somehow found its way onto his shop’s carpet. Carefully did he pick it up with one hand and cupped it in the other.

“You can rise, you know,” he continued, his voice offering a calm tone as he inspected the shiny accessory. “I’m well aware you haven’t stolen anything.”
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A Golden Afternoon Empty Re: A Golden Afternoon

Post by Karimah Wed Jun 09, 2021 1:26 pm

A Golden Afternoon Postytemp


---



Bonk.

Stifling her own laughter, she fixed upon the ground her bulging brown eyes, cheeks puffing dangerously, quite so repeatedly as the comical being painted a picture in her mind with his polite mannerisms and mildly cheeky sense of humor. But her resilience crumbled and from the ashes of her burning shame emerged a most unflattering sound, one that fell from her lips in a sputtering: “Pbffttt! Pbbbrrtt!”

The woman resembled more of a deer being consumed by rabies than an actual person, then she reddened as though a bonfire had scorched her cheeks and, sitting up with such questionable haste, she tried to make proper sentences through the assorted ‘prrrts’ and the varying failed attempts at clarifying things for him; nothing truly understandable could escape her lips.

Through all the wheezing she was horrified! How could she have laughed like that knowing he could have easily mistaken her for a bonafide butt trumpet? With that peculiar description in mind, she mentally pleaded with the deities of her homeland to give her the strength to retain whatever dignity she had in her and adversely fell to the side with a graceless sigh of defeat.  “I am not really a traveling butt spore nor am I a scary little poltergeist,” she finally squeaked through the ragged breaths of her earlier chortling, enjoying the endearing pain in her tummy as she clawed at the air pathetically  to demonstrate that she was anything but a danger.

She turned her head as the lamp fell on the book that was once in the fellow’s possession. She pushed the shiny object to the side and with adorable curiosity spotted the small text, the questionable art, and the sheer filth. She perused through it briefly, snuck him a shy glance and a raised bushy brow, then back to the page she was on.

Saucy.

Karimah quivered, an invisible fog merged over her oddly glazed eyes, every pulse hammered violently in that mortal shell, the rosy flowers rustled and the silky petals whirled around her; she no longer saw nor heard anything except all of her innermost desires stored in one book, complete with naughty depictions for her viewing pleasure.

When she failed to keep herself in check, Karimah and the merchant were alone beside the colorful stand which made these two youthful figures stand out strangely and more so as she cupped the sides of her blushing face and erupted into a shapeless mass of blue smoke that practically consumed his little shop of wonders. It grew, expanded, contorted itself until it resembled a pink heart that could be seen from a mile away.

“Oh, my!” moaned Karimah, not so softly, in a voice that was not her own. It was deep, teasing and quite husky. In fact, it sounded alarmingly masculine and it might have grazed more than a few ears in the area with all that extra boom. Such a fragrance of ecstasy, such a stench of perversion pervaded the magical servant that she recognized the brilliance of this creature and spiraled downward to greet him with a pleased whine: “I want you,” she was only a few mere inches away from his face , “to rub my lamp. Three wishes if you let me borrow that book.” She wasn’t the fearsome cloud of pink but the same woman from before.

And then she saw them. Those pointed ears! What a blessed feature he had! She marveled at them, she marveled at him! What were those strange markings on his face? She was fascinated already! As though under a spell, she wiggled her fingers merrily and reached out to touch them until she recalled one of her first interactions in this world. She brought her hands to her neck and then cupped her face once more.

She would not touch him.

“Are you an elf?” she asked softly, closing her eyes as she quite tuckered herself out.





Word Count; 639
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A Golden Afternoon Empty Re: A Golden Afternoon

Post by Saeven Sat Jun 26, 2021 5:31 am

570 words
an image in my head
calling for blue skies
Turning the bracelet this way and that, Saeven inspected it for any sort of value it may bring him but ultimately found its simplicity attractive to the eye. So, with a miniscule struggle, he slipped the accessory around his wrist. The gold metal glinted, yet his attention was pulled by the chortling, snorting being before him. He laughed politely alongside her, a tinge of worry and confusion tainting his features as she fell to her side and clawed at the air like a small kitten.

“…Really? After what I just witnessed, I may have my doubts,” he teased further. She really did sound like a trumpet.

He noticed, then, that the familiar lamp had fallen on his book... His very much open, very much exposed, ultimately very graphic book that no one should read except for him and any willing customer.

Oh, dear no.

His attempt at removing the filthy tome from her grasp was thwarted, however, as she pushed the object that had befallen upon it aside and instead of said book, Saeven gripped the lamp. He could only watch on in horror as she perused its contents, the seconds beginning to feel like hours in his mind.

She was judging him. She was undeniably judging him. Oh, Fleuve’ir, why.

The seconds felt like hours as he froze in place. Her face turned beet red and with a poof she erupted into an unceremonious cloud of smoke, causing the century-old elf to scramble back from his pillow and bump into the wooden trunk behind him with a small thunk. The cloud turned into a heart, the smoke slowly dissipating to reveal a frazzled, wide-eyed, hand-clutching-his-heart Saeven as he heaved in response.

She leaned into him and he turned his face away out of fear, only looking at the petite girl out of the corner of his eye. With that sonorous voice, he thought she might have eaten him then and there. “Y-your lamp?” in his terror did he not realize the shiny, metal object on his lap that he had protectively clutched against himself moments earlier. “You want me to rub your lamp…? Will that cease your odd behavior!?” he couldn’t comprehend what she was going on about, much less when wishes were mentioned. And at seeing her bring her hands closer to his face, he closed his eyes expecting the worst–

Nothing happened.

Instead, she questioned him, and he opened one eye timidly.

An awkward sort of silence befell the two as the blonde attempted to register everything which had occurred, before stuttering out a singular “Y-yes?” and then silence once more. The question had struck him as strange – strange enough for him to slowly catch his breath and contemplate the lamp he held. He blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Who was she? What was she?

“I’m quite sure… I am…? Yes. I am an elf,” he attempted to calm himself but gave way to nervous stammering and spoke almost as if attempting to convince himself of his own given race. “Saeven the elf. I mean– that is not my full given name. I just… It’s just… It’s just Saeven.”

Clearing his throat he continued, “A-And… you are…? Forgive me, I believed you might be a fae but… wishes? I don’t… I don’t follow. What does rubbing a lamp have to do with anything?” he lifted the object in question and examined it as he had the bracelet.
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A Golden Afternoon Empty Re: A Golden Afternoon

Post by Karimah Mon Aug 02, 2021 12:12 am

A Golden Afternoon Postytemp


---



The spirit of the lamp started and drew back. He was frightened, and the wind had tossed his silky hair and imprinted upon his person a frazzled appearance. There was a look of worry in her eyes, such as people have when they are suddenly contrite for a terrible deed committed. Her gaze was once more drawn to the ground beneath them, and his confusion only served to confirm the nonexistent race of the djinn which left her intensely quiet. He would not have considered her behavior so odd had the concept been a familiar one or so she might have gathered.

Karimah frowned and dropped her hands to her lap slowly, the gesture softer than the great descent of a lone autumn leaf. She could not hide the sadness she might have felt for this realization, but as she once told the very first face she had ever come across here, her feelings had no place in such mortal affairs and she laced her fingers together as a sort of self-soothing act as her long, silvery mane followed the slightest bow of her head. The awkward silence between them was prolonged only by her sudden unwillingness to proceed. She was without words. There was no anger for the good elf but there was repressed grief in her heart, to be stripped away from the familiar and thrown into the unknown. To deal with such a thing for so long, to have gone in and out of denial about everything, to have lost Baene in the process. It was more than she could bear.

She was truly and utterly alone.

“Yes?” came his strangely comforting voice, and, like a doll coming to life, Karimah raised her eyes to meet his. It was her turn to look incredulous as he questioned himself, seeming to piece together words in the effort to form a message and succeeding nearly unscathed.

“Saeven,” the dejected woman echoed tentatively, unable to hide the wonder in a smile that returned hesitantly to her plush lips,  “the elf? This is your name.”

And then he corrected himself as though puzzled. She blinked and tilted her head, like a  lost puppy in the pound. He in good faith elaborated on his incertitude and formerly thought her a fae. That comment alone cured depression and she scooted closer but not so much that it would cause discomfort. She clasped her hands together and nearly swooned at the merest suggestion. To be as pretty as one!  “Oh, Saeven! Me? A fairy? I - I couldn’t be.”

This made her a giddy one.

“I do not come from a baby’s laugh!” Said she with a dreamy sigh, referencing the birth of fairies from a book she read some years ago. “The lamp you are holding is an extension of my very soul. One rub is all it will take for me to turn every delightful fantasy of yours,” Karimah disappeared and reappeared promptly to his side (the opposite of where she sat previously), “into one exquisite and marvelous reality.”

What a golden opportunity for this beautiful soul! She was honored to grant an elf's wish.

“I am Karimah the Genie,” said the spirit playfully, poking innocent fun at his earlier rambling. “The introductions have been made. That leaves me just one extraordinarily important question to ask,” she paused for a moment, “what will your pleasure be?”





Word Count; 563
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A Golden Afternoon Empty Re: A Golden Afternoon

Post by Saeven Wed Aug 11, 2021 2:46 am

661 words
an image in my head
calling for blue skies
Blue irises peeked from behind the gilded object, “…a baby’s laugh?” While there was no doubt in his mind that Fae could be as sweet as the sound of a babe’s laugh, the implication was foreign to the elf. The girl had spoken in earnest and in her display of such he couldn’t find it in himself to correct her. A twinge of compassion among his frayed nerves was all it had taken, for she had painted such a gloomy picture just moments before that he found he could not place a damper on her adoring musing. In turn, he merely slouched further into the plushness of his seat; a weak sort of expression sewn across his brow.

“What?” Saeven stuttered, mind reeling as she so calmly explained away the circumstance of her lamp. He was horrified, in that moment. The very thing he so curiously held between his hands was...! Poor creature, he thought, to be chained to such a delicate thing — and to allow him to handle it so carelessly! His lips parted, a word of incredulity forming, “What do you mea—” yet his voice would be drowned out by the alarmingly threatening poofing and unpoofing of his new oddball acquaintance. His shoulders tensed, and his weak sort of expression produced a weak sort of smile as she gleefully introduced herself at his side.

“Karimah,” he repeated as his brain was starting to burn out. Too much information, too much to ruminate on, and too much had transpired in just a few minutes that it was dizzying, and he dearly hoped this wasn’t an odd sort of joke meant to bewilder the much-too-idle Gaiyan who longed for a solitary afternoon. Really, he had no idea what a genie was and simply nodded along accepting the title in stride. Whatever deductions he could have made regarding the situation overbaked and deflated within his little oven of a mind.

There was a pause.

“My… my pleasure?” his brows furrowed, further straining his delicate features. “I don’t hope to devalue the importance of the question asked but you’ll have to forgive me. I’m not want for much, you see,” he explained, carefully placing the lamp that away from them both. The blonde had lost all desire to fiddle with the trinket any longer. He had deemed it accursed. “I’m just a simple merchant and my trade is all I need,” his tone had been slow, well-mannered and bit by bit regaining a modicum of strength through its wobbliness, and he’d meekly gesture to his modest shop to further prove his point. “So, if it sits well with you, Karimah the Genie — I must decline the offer.”

“However,” Saeven did not want to anger or sadden the entity once more. For all he knew, this petite genie-thing had all the power to utterly annihilate him right then and there. Still, he ventured on ever the embodiment of dumb politeness and habit. He took a steadying breath, “as I feel it’s rude of me to reject such an offer allow me to present a sort of counteroffer.” From within his colorful robes he produced a large deck of cards and he wiggled himself around into facing her directly. The card he displayed was hand-painted in oils: a purple diamond juxtaposed against a dark background, and from within it a singular heart speckled in gold with bold lines jutting from behind it creating the illusion of a beacon of light.

Saeven offered her the deck. “A fortune for one such as you would be the only pleasure I could ask for. And I do hope you humor this old elf as you’ve nearly given him a heart attack,” the weak smile had turned pleasant with only a soft remnant of the prior unease. He didn’t stammer, nor did his voice wobble as it had, “You need only to shuffle the deck, place your hand in mine, and then allow me to do the rest.”
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A Golden Afternoon Empty Re: A Golden Afternoon

Post by Karimah Wed Aug 18, 2021 12:00 am

A Golden Afternoon Postytemp


---



“Everyone is struggling to gain something which he does not possess, and he is always lamenting for what he has lost. Do you not seek fulfillment through material mediums, Saeven? Imagine the life you could have,” she tried soft-soaping the elf into indulging himself.

He refused the wish which Karimah offered to him, and eloquently explained that he had no need for much want as a simple merchant of the trade.

“You would not use me? What — What an enigma you are,” mused Karimah naively, crawling over to the pillow to reclaim her original, fluffy perch. It was soft on her knees, unlike the ground and the texture was comforting to the touch. She was at a loss for words. He wanted nothing.

Meanwhile, the soft-voiced merchant was inclining his offer to the perplexed genie, to whom she watched with clasped hands and round eyes as he slowly passed the deck to the enchanted entity, majestically, thoughtfully, with flowerlike hands.  So she scooted closer, admiring the artful theme of the cards, as she carefully held them in her hands. She ran her fingers delicately over the textured surface and resisted looking through them all. Such beautiful cards! She respectfully shuffled them, treating them as though they were made of only the finest glass.

She gazed at him for a moment with an air of excitement, then dropped her eyes to the hand she was close to taking until a certain bracelet glimmered under the glow of the sun and caught her attention. A knowing look, one that she openly shared and started the removal of the second bracelet from her fragile wrist. It was an exact copy of the same one she lost earlier. “Ah, I see you have my bracelet. Do you desire gold?” she asked mysteriously, putting the pretty piece on the pillow he sat on.

“I feel obligated to give,” she confessed, “but you have denied me a wish of your choosing. Will you, then, accept my gift? I gave you such a scare, and yet here you are trying to give me a service.”

The smile on her face looked so uncertain.

A nervous laugh left the girl’s lips, “None of this is making any sense to me.” Calming down from the height of her confusion, she sighed wistfully as she continued, “You are very generous.” There was a kind truth in what she said. But he also managed to somehow make her feel useless, although that was never the intention of her newest acquaintance. She was only going through a first, momentary crisis: a genie that could be told no? What a curious, curious twist. A mortal that did not stop to ponder over the glory of all the riches she could materialize? Not even a morsel of desire to be shown; no more questions about what she could bring to the table.

Karimah would stop having her very strange, very polite breakdown and proceed by resting her hand upon his.

She cleared her throat, her voice timid as a gentle wind passed through them, “What,” she blinked dumbly, “What is to happen now?”






Word Count; 515
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