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pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

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pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Guest on Mon May 17, 2010 11:30 pm

(this thread is for madeline and elessar in particular but open to all.)

it was just like pris had told them. no more than fifteen feet behind the inn's woodpile there was a sculpture garden in the making, except this garden had nothing to do with plants, flowers or pretty colors. what it had everything to do with was a circular dirt area that was almost twenty feet in diameter. the dirt circle stood out and was purposefully shaped like a pedestal, because there was a three foot wide ditch dug around it that was also nearing three feet deep. that was where pris poured her bucket water to make just the right mix of fresh wet mud. on the big circular pedestal, that's where she fashioned said mud into her mudmen. well, mudfolk.

the mudfolk were stout and sturdy figures that had a basic body shape same as anyone. it was just that they were all molded to be crouching or on their knees or sitting or other postures that allowed for a stockier bottom half. pris had learned early on that if she sculpted figures that were too svelte those stick-sculptures just crumbled in her hands as soon as she tried to build upwards.

for the same reason these mudfolk always had folded arms, holding their heads or their necks or their stomachs or a combination of those places and others. build an arm out from the body, the body would be out that arm with a cr-rack. pris had learned that early on, too. for that reason most of these globular rotund mudfolk looked pretty relaxed and happy to be where they were and how they were. which was the very opposite of pris lately. which is probably why pris was so irritable with the fatty mudfolk when she spent time with them.

and right now, the only slightly muddy pris was being very salty with them. just arrived here from school a moment ago, she wasn't even close enough to her sculpture pit to drop down her shoulder bag and she could see that three of the mudfolk had disappointed her again.

their mud hats were in total shambles. oh yes, who could forget about the mud hats. three self-destructed mud hats meant she pris had four mud hats to make in total, that is if the one runaway mud man got here on time in order to get the new hat she agreed to mold him if he returned here where he belonged. she needed to get to work, and it was a lot of work, so pris was also waiting for the arrival of her 'apprentage'.

it was three-thirty. and it was just like pris had told them, she was there and she'd already walked the plank bridge onto her sculpture pit's pedestal, to preen the mudfolk for a minute or two. after a those short minutes passed by, she was already dirty up to her elbows.


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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Madeline Cauthon on Mon May 17, 2010 11:39 pm

Madeline was excited about starting her new job. She had pulled her hair in pig tails and wore blue jeans and a navy blue tank top. Madeline didn't have time to wait and tell her brother or daddy where she was going. They would figure it out when she came home all dirty.

At three twenty she darted out of the inn, and bolted to the location the cool mud chick had told her. The one thing she was good at was running fast, real fast. So a fifteen minute trip only took her ten minutes. She arrived she hoped on time, because she saw the girl walking around getting dirty already. Madeline knew she was going to have a good time.

She smiled brightly. "I'm here! What do you want me to do first?"

She couldn't wait to get dirty.
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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Elessar on Tue May 18, 2010 12:25 am

It was three-thirty and Elessar the runaway mud man was running late. It wasn't done intentional, unless one wanted to count the intents of that Eru-forsaken brush that happened to take a liking to long, blond hair. In a long story, short it was the brush that had won the struggle in the end between Elf and nature and having claimed it's prize of more than just a few of those blond locks let the Elf escape.

Having been trapped in that brush for longer than he would have liked the Elf was certainly looking the part of a mud man, being covered in dirt from head to booted foot. It was worth it though! He was going to get a hat to go with his new mud appearance, if he got there on time, and he'd found his missing arrow to boot!

So it was going on three-thirty three when Elessar the mud man came a running towards the sculpture garden to lay claim to his hat. "I'm here!"
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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Guest on Tue May 18, 2010 9:50 pm

before she saw her apprentage, pris knew there was a change in her landscape. the strange teenager had become really good at that, at noticing how the other things in the landscape were changing and it was because of new things that she couldn't yet see. it was the ditch that told her someone new was here - because of all its empty space before the bottom she heard the small pebbles and clumps of dirt that were kicked by madeline's feet skip and jump in.

"wait!" pris spat the word like an urgent bullet of warning as she whirled around to face where madeline was running up. "don't cross the drawbridge. you need to be introduced first or you'll make them shake their outer layers off. they're shy." this fact was delivered to pris with great solemnity. her muddy Wellies tapped across the wooden plank so that like madeline she was on the outside of the sculpture pit looking in.

standing next to her new appendage, pris began the introductions. "ssspurrple? apprentage. wuhhhurlish? apprentage. shhhliiiish? apprentage. swiiiiishple? apprentage. spurp? apprentage." that's right, five sculpture people in total. each time pris said 'apprentage' (the merging of the words apprentice and appendage') to introduce madeline, she pointed at the nine-year-old. clearly this round of introductions was for the benefit of the statues, since pris was addressing them in their own language.

now it was madeline's turn to get introduced. "apprentage? jam, stout, vox, tarp and jezebelington." considering she introduced madeline to each of the mudfolk in the same order that she'd addressed them a moment ago, it was ironic that the last statue had the longest name in common but the shortest in mudspeak. these things happened sometimes.

so elessar was just on time, if just on time meant missing introductions. but considering he was the mudman runaway, he should know who all the sculptures were already, right? "you're late!" scolded pris when the mud man was only a few feet away. "do you see how upset you've made jezebelington?" pris rocked up onto her tip toes, looking up at elessar rather haughtily through her lashes. "i bed you get no bed pillows tonight." considering the disciplinary satisfaction pris said that with, clearly to have no bed pillows was a very grave punishment.

then, pris pointed to an open spot on the sculpture pedestal. "now cross the draw bridge and stay still while my apprentage gets water. apprentage!" pris used her best summoning voice as she turned to madeline, pointing at a sizable bucket. "the moat needs water, chippy chop!"


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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Madeline Cauthon on Tue May 18, 2010 10:17 pm

Maddie came to a sliding stop when Pris said stop. She stood at attention while Pris introduced her to the statues, and the statues to her. As every introduction was made, Madeline gave a nod of introduction. "Nice to meet you all." She would have said it in their language, but she didn't know how to speak mud yet.

When she heard Pris say your late, she turned to see the mud person from the bar, and giggled to herself.

When Pris ordered her to get water, Madeline quickly grabbed the bucket. "Mam, Yes Mam!" Madeline ran over to the water faucet by the stables, and filled the bucket. Carefully and as fast as she could, she brought the bucket back, and carefully poured the water in the mote. Just to make sure the mote was full, she ran back to the same faucet and refilled the bucket. The bucket was heavy, but she just pretended she was the girl from her favorite TV show, training for the next apocalypse.

Madeline poured the second bucket in the mote. It looked full to her. "Misses Boss, is that enough water?"
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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Elessar on Fri May 21, 2010 12:51 am

Elessar the runaway mud man was certainly having a run of bad luck. First he'd nearly lost his chance at getting a mud hat by being a 'runaway' and now he was to get no bed pillows for being late! What was a mud man to do? Hurry his butt up is what! The last few feet were taken in quick strides.

When he reached the drawbridge he hung his head sadly, he was being punished after all, and crossed to take his place beside the rest of the sculptures. "Sllllurrrple Srrrrrrrrlip," Said Elessar as he settled into a crouching position with his head resting on his folded arms atop his knees. Hopefully what he said would translate out to be "I'm sorry," in mud language! He still wanted that mud hat after all.
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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Guest on Fri May 21, 2010 4:50 pm

both of them had only been there for a matter of minutes, but already pris had decided something. she liked having people to command. she liked it a lot. this swell of pleasure was obviously largely due to the fact that her apprentage and the mudman were both happily listening to and following her instructions. or really, they were doing better than her instructions. her apprentage was getting a second bucket of water without even having to be told and elessar was addressing pris in mud language, which was really the only polite thing to do when you were a mudman who was late and in danger of losing your nightly bed pillows.

"shhhhhurp." pris replied with elessar with her nose stuck up in the air. maybe the upturned nose would help get the meaning of the mud word across, which was pretty much 'psh'. or if one wanted a translation in plainer english - 'we'll see about that'. when dealing with pris, it was always hard to figure out which side of the line she stood on - did she really see the mud sculptures as people with a language and elessar as one of their kinsman, or was the girl just letting her odd mind run her away with her imagination? or was it somewhere in between?

while her apprentage was getting the second bucket of water, pris crossed the plank over to the sculptures and elessar. hands on her hips (she really didn't care if she got mud on her clothes) she walked a very slow circle around elessar, scrutinizing him and the posture he'd chosen for himself in the garden. "hm. hm hm hm." quite suddenly she turned her back on him, facing the statue she'd introduced maddie to as jezebelington. "vooooshel wurrple spurrrp splllllish?" asked pris of jezebelington. "mhm," pris nodded. and then paused, to let jezebelington finish speaking, "vurp!" she agreed firmly, turning back to the mud man to give him the verdict.

"don't face vox. he's a bad influence." as pris waited for elessar to shift his croutch so that he wasn't facing the bad seed of the sculptures, she inched to the edge of the sculpture platform to look into the moat. "misses prisses of ganesvoortshire," pris corrected madeline, "says there's enough water in the moat." the teenager could get very odd about what she was called. if a person didn't have permission to call her priscilla what they usually got in return was a big bad bite mark or a bruised mouth hole.

since her apprentage had done well it was time for the next instruction. "now you take the big stick and mix the batter for the mud cake." pris thought that was a good way of describing how madeline should mix. mix like the mud was batter - it needed to all be the same consistency and not lumpy. lumpy mud was too-heavy mud and just fell off the sculptures. as for the stick, pris was pointing in the direction of where that was. it was a long but not too thick or heavy broken branch she'd found nearby which looked like a wizard's staff, and before she left the mud garden she always stuck it into the dirt where it could stand there for safe keeping.

now it was time for elessar. pris got down to her hands and knees, rubbing her hands against the dirt wall of the moat that was nearest to her to get a nice big handful of mud. she ducked the handful into the water, mixing it like a ball of clay in her hands as she stood up and went back over to the mud man. her emerald green eyes played ping pong with their gaze between his nose, eyes and mouth as she stated to him matter-of-factly, "your head's not fat enough."

plop, went the handful of mud on his left shoulder as pris had aims to fix his head.

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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Madeline Cauthon on Fri May 21, 2010 8:30 pm

Madeline ran and retrieved the appropriate stick. Quickly she returned to the mud in question and began to stir. She had plenty of practice cooking, because her foster mom made her cook all the time. She started slow then picked up speed, making sure the strokes were evenly distributed. After several good turns, Madeline quickened her pace with the stick, soon the mud batter was turning more easily. As she watched the mud turn from lumpy thickness into a silky smooth batter, she smiled.

For some reason the circular motion of the mud batter took her mind to the cliffs on a dark night. On the cliffs she saw three women standing in what looked like a triangle formation around her father. She recognized one of the women, it was her step mom Airtia. She didn't recognized the other two. But she could see a flow what looked like magic flowing between the three women. She could even feel it flowing through her.The power felt amazing.

When she closed her eyes in her mind they reopened back to the mud, and to her astonishment, she could still feel the power flowing through her. The thing that shocked her most was the stick was now stirring the mud by itself. She immedately grabbed the big stick with both hands and held it so it looked like she was stirring it herself. "Round round circle." She repeated the words over and over, almost like a song.

Madeline hoped that Pris or the mud people hadn't noticed what had happened. She would definitely have to ask her daddy about what she had seen.
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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Elessar on Wed May 26, 2010 1:22 am

Elessar the mud man was still relatively new to the language of mud but Pris' reply to his hopeful apology came through clear as well, clear as mud! It seemed for now the danger of loosing his bed pillows was still there but he wasn't going down without a fight. Oh no, he was going to get them back somehow. The great plot of how to re-obtain the potentially lost pillows was running through his mind as his eyes rolled in circles to watch as he was being circled and studied.

That's why when Pris suddenly turned her back on him she left a blinking mud man behind. Had he missed something with his plotting or was this simply another part of the examination he'd been undergoing a second ago? The answer could lay in the conversation between Pris and the mud statue but alas for Elessar it went through one mud covered ear and out the other.

Fortunately he got his answer a moment later and being the loyal mud man he was, shifted his way around from the bad influence of the group. He was already in enough trouble for the day, he didn't need Vox's influence rubbing off on him! That in mind he had now ended up turning all the way around so now Vox had a nice view of the back of El's head.

Speaking of heads, had he heard right? Elessar had never had the pleasure, or lack thereof, of being called a fat head, but he'd never been told it wasn't fat enough either! "Wha-" Plop. It seemed there was no room left for objection to the fatness of his head. Poor Elessar, after this he was bound to be called fathead for sure!
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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Guest on Thu May 27, 2010 12:33 pm

even if elessar had tried to finish his objection, he probably wouldn't have gotten very far. one syllable out of his mouth and already pris was drowning him out with a loud, "chi-chi-chi-chi!" her big emerald eyes gave a two-second glare to his nose before her gaze went back to doing its usual quick here there and everywhere. about elessar's attempt to speak the presumptuous teenager added, "if you let your air out your head will turn into a stretched-out balloon corpse." wasn't that an attractive thought? and he'd even get some time to himself to ponder over that image, because pris was heading back to the moat for more mud.

by the time pris was on her knees moat-side, her apprentage was singing. misses prisses reached down into the mud-mix, and sank her index finger into the cold wet dirt. holding up said finger in front of her eyes for texture inspection, the odd girl murmured distantly to herself. "the earth has many keys where melody is not is the unknown peninsula beauty is nature's fact but witness for her land and witness for her sea the cricket is her utmost of elegy to me." the words weren't her own. they belonged to a poem, one of the many that her doctor had her memorize so that she could recite them whenever she needed to help her fracturing mind refocus.

but this time the poem had a different purpose. as she muttered the words paying no heed to inflection or punctuation, pris gave her index finger a fixed, still stare to watch how quickly the mud dribbled down. the poem's words were a timing mechanism, and clearly she was pleased with the results because she announced grandly, "apprentage, replace the stick in its stick hole! the mud says yes." pris herself bent dangerously low, teetering on the edge of the mud moat, so that she could reach her arms down and scoop as much mud as her armful would carry.

slop, squished the armful of mud as pris dropped it on the ground in front of elessar, quite possibly spattering the mudman's legs in the process. now she had more material to work with, and could get to into the thick of the issue at hand: the elf's non-fat head. grabbing a handful of the cold, squishy dirt mixture, pris dumped it on elessar's other shoulder without a word of warning. standing in front of him to appraise the mud situation on both shoulders, pris nodded with satisfaction. reaching out one hand to each shoulders, her small but nimble fingers worked the mud up towards his neck, to fatten it so he had the proper base to be given a bigger head so he could eventually be crowned with his mud hat. pris' work would certainly feel cold, and it would certainly feel wet, but it might also feel soothing. sculptors massaged their clay, and wasn't it always nice to get a massage?

misses prisses didn't look away from her art making when she spoke to her apprentage. her art was the one thing she stared at, with just as much intensity as an owl peering into the night. she didn't need to see her apprentage to give her an order, anyway. "apprentage! jezelbelington has cracks and her nose was pecked off by the wind-mites."

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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Madeline Cauthon on Thu May 27, 2010 1:47 pm

On command, Madeline stopped stirring and took the stick out. She let it drip for a moment to make sure the excess mud was not wasted. She then ran to the spot from where she had got the stick, and put it back in it's spot.

As she was walking back, she heard Pris give her next order. This one Madeline liked more than all the others. Because it meant that she was about to get dirty. "Yes your Highness, Queen of the Mud People." Madeline said this as with much respect as any member of court would in her fairy tale books.

As Madeline crossed the draw bridge, she bent down and picked up a hand full of mud so she could fix the cracks on Miss Jezelbelington. The cold wet mud felt so good to her. It was nice to have a reason to get dirty. As Madeline arrived in front of Miss Jezelbelington she gave her a small curtsy and tried to greet her in mud speak. "Gsssth drrrdd Miss Jezelbelington. Mish wrrppp vt Madeline. Mjjj br hkkll urs plddd." Which roughly translated meant: Good day Miss Jezelbelington. My name is Madeline I'll be helping you today.

Satisfied with her introduction she carefully bent down and picked up Miss Jezelbelington's nose. She sook her head and spoke to her self. "Hateful wind mites" Setting the nose carefully to one side, Madeline dipped her finger into one the hand that held the mud, and very carefully began to fill in the cracks on Miss Jezelbelington.
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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Elessar on Fri May 28, 2010 1:23 am

His head was going to turn into a stretched-out balloon corpse. Elessar had to hand it to her, Pris certainly had a way to get someone to stop talking. Case in point the elf's mouth closed with a small audible click as his teeth locked together. Elessar had seen far too many corpses in his day to risk becoming one by objections alone so this could be chalked up as mistake number three in the poor mud man's tally book. Boy, they were starting to pile up, weren't they?

Now left alone with the happy thought of corpses with deflated heads running through his mind Elessar drifted off for a moment. He hadn't fallen asleep, for whom could sleep with that on their mind?, rather he left himself be swept up in thought that had nothing to do with corpses or deflated heads. It was in this state his enhanced elven hearing picked up on the sounds of Madeline's singing from the moat. Given the distance separating them and the fact he was up on higher ground it was difficult to make out the words, but it was the melody that came through. All elves were attuned to the luring call of music and so as the melody drifted to his ears Elessar began to quietly hum along with it.

Even after the song stopped Elessar's humming kept on, changing to a more slower tune until . . . squish! There was nothing like the spattering of mud dropped in front of a person to bring them back into reality. El's hum paused in mid-tune as his blue-gray eyes traveled from Pris to the dropped mud and back again with the slight look of 'what have I gotten myself into?' in them. It was far too late for doubts however, and besides there was still the matter of that mud hat he wanted. Although if he had known he would be getting a fatter head for the hat perhaps there would have been an inkling of doubt on his part.

Though again, Elessar could forgive the new mud head and the cold and wet mud it took to make it for the soothing feel of the massage that came with it. Elessar had no objections when it came to a massage, even if it was covered in cold, wet mud. In fact he showed his pleasure at such by beginning to hum that slow melody once again.
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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Guest on Sun May 30, 2010 5:51 pm

when the elf started humming, pris silently decided that she liked this new mudman. that decision manifested outwardly by a nod, and maybe just maybe pris became a bit more gentle in how she slopped mud on his shoulders and massaged it upward to fatten his neck. with pris, humming went a long way - it was one of those many compulsive habits her doctor had cultivated in her so that she could help herself function without aid of medication.

so for a minute, there was a magical moment where pris was humming along with her new mudman. the tune she hummed was a perfect mimic of his, but the notes weren't at all the same. one couldn't even say pris was trying to harmonize with him (at least not successfully) because not only did her chosen notes clash with his, but pris also chose a different tempo than he. the result, as was the case with most of pris' sing-song, was dissonant and eerie. but the musical duo didn't last. it couldn't last.

because her apprentage had just called her 'queen of the mud people.'

it made pris freeze like ice. the stillness went all the way down to her fingertips and only her eyelids were untouched by it, because even shock-statues had to blink. slowly, very slowly, pris turned away from her work on elessar and looked solemnly at madeline who was dutifully filling cracks.

"apprentage," said softly very softly and with just as much seriousness, "jezebelington is queen of the mud people." was this true yesterday, the day before and the day before that? with pris it was impossible to tell, the eccentric girl didn't exactly live by the same linear, practical timeline that others did. but right now, in this moment, that jezebelington was queen made perfect logical sense. 'click' went two dots as they connected in pris' mind, and out that click came to explain to madeline why her mind told pris it was so, "jam, stout, vox, tarp and jez-e-bel-ing-ton." pris drew out the last name on purpose.

jezebelington was the only statue who had multiple syllables in her name. so obviously, concluded pris' mind, that meant she was special. naturally, added pris' mind, special means queen.

with a mistake like this made by the apprentage she hired herself there was only one thing pris could do. she shifted so that how she stood faced the mud statue that was known as jezebelington perfectly. and then, pris dropped to her knees. stretching both of her arms above her head as high as they would go (the fact that this caused mud to drip down from her fingers to her palms to her wrists down her arms really didn't matter to the teenager) pris then bowed her body to lay supplicant to jezebelington, queen of the mud people. on the way down to the low low position, she bellowed in a tone of proper deference, "ohhhhhHHHHH SPURP," which as we all remember is jezebelington's name in mud language, "sspppppppurrff spppppfhhhtle waaalish-lish-LISH."

on her knees, prostrate with her arms out in front of her, pris titled her head enough to the right that she could peep at elessar. green eyes looked up at him with urgent expectation, she gave him only this instruction, "a-hem. a-hem-hem-hem-hem." all that exaggerated throat clearing was pris saying this: if you're a mud person, you better back me up and get bowing.

there it was, right within reach - elessar's chance to redeem all his mudman mistakes!

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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Madeline Cauthon on Sun May 30, 2010 11:40 pm

The color drained from Madeline's face when Pris told her of her big mistake. "Light. I'm..I'm..I'm sorry." Madeline smacked herself hard in the head with her muddy hand, Mud now covering her face.

Madeline did not mean to insult the true queen of the Mud people. She turned to form Pris to Queen Jezebelington. "You're Highness. I didn't mean to insult you. Please forgive me."

Not knowing what to say or do. She followed Pris's example, and dropped to her knees and started bowing. What else is a girl to do to beg for forgiveness from the Mud peoples queen?
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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Elessar on Wed Jun 02, 2010 10:29 pm

In that magical moment when Pris was humming along with Elessar the elf came to a silent conclusion of his own - he rather liked Pris. She was quiet unlike anyone he had ever met before, elf or mortal alike, and what others may have found odd Elessar was finding fascinating. The sculpture garden was a good example. Elessar couldn't recall ever seeing anything like it before aside from the stone statues he had once seen during the time he had lived in New Mecca. The statues there had been carved from stone however, and had been scattered across a field instead of like the mud people upon their pedestal. Stone could be considered more studier perhaps but Elessar found the mud statues more to his liking. Considering he was supposed to be one of them he'd darn well better like them!

Humming went a long way with El as well. Like most elves of his kind Elessar held a strong affinity for song, although where most sang Elessar chose to hum. It was quieter for starters and could be done even when one had no voice left to sing with. When Pris began humming with him Elessar's pleasure was expressed a slight change as his slow tune entwined with an uplifted melody.

How he wish it could have lasted. When Pris froze Elessar paused in his humming as well and simply watched, unsure of what had caused the change. When Jezebelingtion was called the queen of the mud people it suddenly made slightly more sense to the elf. In the land of Genesis where Elessar was from there were no kings, queens, gods, or anything of that kind so suffice it to say the blonde's knowledge of a queen, including the one of the mud people, was woefully small. That was why he was so amazingly thankful when Pris 'a-hemed' him! The chance to redeem all his past mudman mistakes was there and he was taking it! Shifting around so he was properly facing Jezebelingtion as well he fell onto his knees, tossed his arms out straight above his head, and bowed like he never had before! All hail the queen!
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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Guest on Fri Jun 04, 2010 11:49 am

her apprentage bowed. then her new mudman bowed. all because pris bowed and make bowing important. these two people were listening to her more than anyone ever had at school - besides maybe lumie, but even lumie sometimes got very smart-faced with her and gave her very long i-told-you-so explanations of why they couldn't do this thing or that. even her most indulgent and precious doctor duck put his foot down with some of pris' wilder urgings. but today, the only one here telling people i told you so and putting her feet down was pris, and the teenage oddity loved it. this afternoon was just like a sssspurrrsssh vvvviiipllle whurrrrlssspp.

and what was better than that?

to know how long they were all supposed to remain prostrate to queen jezebelington, pris recited a poem that had a bow. she had to recite the poems out loud, but her voice now was no more than a mutter. "a cloud withdrew from the sky superior glory be but that cloud and its auxiliaries are forever lost to me had i but further scanned had i secured the glow in a hermetic memory it had availed me now never to pass the angel with a glance and a bow till i am firm in heaven it is my intention now."

at poem's end, proper deference had been given to the mud people's queen. so pris turned her head to peep at elessar and she whispered, "i know a lot about clouds. i'm a sky that can't fade. poof says so." it was the first time she'd thought or spoken about benjamin in some time - once she'd decided what she was going to use his present for, her parent had taken a backseat in her mind. partially because pris was still waiting for him to take her for ice cream. or to denny's. or to denny's for ice cream. "shhh." she concluded to the elf, implying that he was supposed to keep her sky-ness a secret.

then pris stood. no fanfare, no honorable words in mud language, not even a curtsey. just a look down at elessar as she imparted a bit of 'advice'. "you better be back in your spot in a tick-tock, thin-head." a mud-covered finger pointed at his statue spot with perfect exactitude, a clue in case he'd forgotten. "and no. talking. to vox." she wagged her mud finger with each of those clipped commands, before left his side and knelt down at at the moat, to scoop up fresh mud. the armful she'd carried over before had dried up as they were all hailing the queen.

kneading the mud in the moat with all ten fingers, pris spoke over her shoulder at madeline. "apprentage, jezebelington bequeaths your finishing her cracks and nose now, hey nonny. then you have to paint on her water layer."

the directions were given so matter-of-factly. as if everyone knew perfectly well how to do all that.

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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Madeline Cauthon on Sat Jun 05, 2010 4:04 pm

Madeline now covered head to toe in mud, sat up on her knees when Pris stopped bowing. She was very grateful that she wasn't fired, and they could continue working. Upon hearing Pris's instructions, Madeline stood up and with fresh mud, preceded to finish filling in the cracks of Queen Jezebelington.

Carefully picking up the nose, Maddie put it back in it's proper place. After a few more cracks were filled, she stepped back and surveyed her work. Madeline was pleased with her work. You couldn't even tell those evil wind mites, had pecked off Queen Jezebelington's nose.

With a smile, Maddie got a bucket of fresh water, and a soft bristled paint brush she had found behind the stables earlier. Now standing in front of the queen of the mud people, she started to brush a layer of water on her with slow steady strokes. Ironically all this work made her want pineapple pudding. "Misses boss your parents must be so proud of you. You do such an excellent job taking care of the mud people, that they should buy you pineapple pudding every night!"
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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Elessar on Mon Jun 07, 2010 11:45 pm

As Pris recited the poem to dictate how long they were to remain bowing to their queen Elessar listened carefully with his head bowed and delicately tipped ears turned towards the sound of her muttered voice. The poem she recited he had never heard before but it weave a magical effect upon him. Elessar's eyes slowly closed as Pris' voice faded into the background to be replaced with the wispy voice of the elf's childhood tutor.

Yerathiel was a wise elven maid, aged as the hills and in his mind's eye Elessar could still see the wrinkled face and hear the raspy voice of the woman as she recited one of her favorite poems. "On the canvas of life there are beautiful, vibrant colors and there are deeply intense colors. Life paints every persons own unique picture. And this one is dark. Royal as the purple, and black as the night -" The reminisce cut off abruptly with the ending of the poem and Elessar came back to the realm of reality right in time to hear Pris tell him she was a sky that could never fade.

A sky that could never fade . . . Elessar's head lifted and clear gray eyes studied the girl in front of him. Whatever may have gone through the elf's mind he never got to voice for she was shushing him. Then his chance was gone completely as the thin-head of the mud men was told it was time to get back to business. Pris' advice was taken as Elessar leapt into action and scooted his thin frame back to the spot he'd started in, with his back to the bad influence of Vox. Having just redeemed all his mud man mistakes it wouldn't do to get into more trouble so soon!
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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Guest on Wed Jun 09, 2010 9:41 pm

slop slop, went two fresh handfuls of mud on elessar's shoulders. but she didn't get any further than that before her apprentage said the loaded word. parents. parents made pris pause before she had a chance to really begin sculpting. she turned towards madeline, her big green eyes staring straight at the little girl.

pris didn't usually stare. usually pris' eyes were erratic and looked here there and everywhere. because if she stared, that's when her vision and how her mind connected her dots began to warp and she could see a person's insides. like what she saw in benjamin's grandmother-what-big-teeth-you-haves when she stared at those, or how she saw her doctor back home with an empty heartless chest and no hands when she stared at him. she stared at her apprentage now, but she didn't say anything about what she could see. she would paint that portrait another time. when her fingers weren't little brown mud cakes.

"my dad is dead. my mom's a bitch. and poof won't take me to denny's." pris reported those things to madeline with no particular inflection at all. they were just facts, all true, even if pris didn't like the truth of any of them. the one truth she couldn't speak with no particular inflection was about her half-brother dommy and why he was gone. so she didn't speak that truth at all. instead her head tilted to the side after she was done speaking, green eyes fixed on madeline for a few moments more. "hm. hm hm hm." that concluded, she turned back to her thin-head.

"after your head is nice and fat you'll get your mud hat. and then my apprentage will paint on your water-layer." pris told this to elessar as her fingers went to work. smoothing and molding the mud around his neck like a cold dirty turtleneck. "if you look dashing in your mud clothes maybe jezebelington will invite you to tea and crumples, wiiiiishhhh varpppppppht." the last sound ended in a totally wet and obnoxious fart noise.

the satisfaction of doing that did something rare in stranger company. it made pris grin.

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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Madeline Cauthon on Thu Jun 10, 2010 1:10 am

Madeline sighed, in her own little way, she kind of understood. Even though her situation was different. "My dad, when he's around, is trying to shove me off on somebody else. Guess he'd rather spend time with his wife than me. I don't know my real mom. Up till a few days ago I was living with my foster mom who thinks I'm evil. I have two older half siblings, a brother who is suppose to be watching me but rather spend time with his new girlfriend. A half sister who I haven't met yet, I think she works at the inn. And a foster sister, Epiphany. Well she's okay. I can see why you like the mud people so much, they love you no matter what. And they don't try to get rid of you."

Madeline smiled at Queen Jezebelington as she continued to slowly paint the water layer on her. She then stopped mid stroke. "What's a Denny's?"
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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Elessar on Tue Jun 15, 2010 4:47 pm

When it came to speaking about parents Elessar could say with true honesty that he couldn't remember the last time he had done so. Both of his parents were gone and he he'd had many years to find peace with it. Still the word had brought up some memory for his jaw twitched in response as a dark shadow passed briefly over his clear grey eyes.

It passed in an instant and by the time Pris looked back at him Elessar was the picture of a perfect mud man in the making. That was until she said the words 'water-layer'. Being covered in mud from head to foot was one thing, but the thought of a water-layer over the top of it made him a tad nervous. Didn't that mean the mud would harden like a crust? Elessar had known being a mud man meant by the end of the day he would be covered with the stuff and probably take well over an hour in the shower just to remove said mud but now his mind was had begun entertaining the thought of him trapped inside this giant mud shell. It was a ridiculous notion, but for someone who'd spent most of his life trapped in things it also arised a slight inkling of panic.

The elf almost shook his head to remove the panicked thoughts when he remembered just in the nick of time that his neck and head were undergoing a mud-transformation. Instead he left his breath out in a rushed sigh and focused on Pris was saying to him about Jezebelington and tea and crumples, meeting her grin with a small one of his own. "It would be an honor to partake of tea and crumples with queen Jezebelington."
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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Guest on Tue Jun 15, 2010 11:19 pm

pris didn't say anything about most of what her apprentage reported about her own family. it wasn't that the eccentric girl wasn't listening, it was just that pris assumed that like her own parental report what madeline said was for facts - the kind of facts that doctors who want to make dollar signs off of their patients ask for all the time. those facts didn't get replies, that's what she'd learned from her doctor. instead they got pens scratching paper, nods, and the putter-muttered 'mm-hm'.

but while madeline spoke, she might notice that pris was echoing some of her words in a toneless mutter. "half-siblings, brother who's supposed to be watching…half-sister who i haven't met yet, supposed to be watching, haven't met yet, supposed to be watching…" the parroted repetition slowly morphed into one of her atonal sing-songs, which ending in a haunting addition of her own, "that's because hey nonny half-brothers leave." the song's conclusion came from pris' own personal experience, the closest she would get about speaking the truth about dommy.

but there was no time to linger on that. not when her apprentage said that the mud people don't try to get rid of flesh people. slowly pris' head turned, and she stared at madeline again with her owl green eyes. "apprentage, obviously thou durst'nt knowest what master mud marshall ninja Vox is capable of, hey nonny." this pris said with the utmost of seriousness. then, she lifted both of her eyebrows as high up on her forehead as they would go so that they'd be in proper position for when pris gave three very slow, very solemn, very important nods.

then her mud-caked elbow gave elessar's shoulder a burly bump. well, burly for a seventeen-year-old girl who was barely over five feet tall. "tell her, thin-head. about what master mud marshall ninja vox did to the last apprentage of the mud people." her emerald green eyes ping-ponged between elessar and madeline, and on the last pong in elessar's direction she added firmly, "or else jezebelington will throw your crumples in the moat for the shhvvuuurples."

whatever the fart those were.

in the meantime, pris went over to said moat to load herself up with another large armful of wet, fresh mud. after dropping it at elessar's knees with the usual slop, she immediately went back to work thickening the girth of her thin-head's neck. she worked a bit more quickly than before, nimble fingers tossing mud and smoothing it in fluid strokes like her fingers were five little brushes. the mud layer was getting high enough that pris was building around poor elessar's ears, but the silver lining of that fact was twofold: at least she wasn't slopping mud in or over elessar's ears, and even better soon it would be time for his mud hat.

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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Madeline Cauthon on Thu Jun 17, 2010 3:36 pm

Madeline nodded as she listened to Pris talk about Vox. She got a warm smile to her face. A mud master ninja. Now thats something you don't here of everything.

She had finished the water layer if queen Jezebelington, and looked at her watch. It was getting close to five and her tummy was grumbling. She needed to get going sometime soon, but she wanted to here what happened to the last apprentage first.

Madeline put the paint brush down and looked at Elessar with her right eye brow raised. "Oh, what happened?
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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Elessar on Tue Jun 22, 2010 12:04 am

Elessar had been told that Vox was a bad influence, but he was a master mud marshall ninja as well? This is where the year of being a hermit was finally starting to come in handy - thanks to those long hours alone Elessar had become quite the picture box watcher and because of that he actually knew what a ninja was!

It was this ninja-knowledge he was now trying to mentally apply to Vox, although it was not easy considering he had his back to the other mud man and wasn't even allowed to speak to him. Darn him for being such a bad influence! It was probably in Elessar's favor that he resisted the tempting thought to simply turn around and get a good look at the mud ninja.

Bump! Elessar was bumped and barely had time to cast a confused look in Pris' direction for it when what she was saying caught up with him. This was interesting, he was supposed to tell what mast mud marshall ninja had done with the last apprentage? Now Elessar was more of a story writer than an actual teller but instead of objecting he paused for a moment to think. Instead of a story, however, his thoughts turned towards Epiphany.

She was simply the oddest female Elessar had even met, a quality which he rather liked, but it wasn't her oddities that came to mind now but her stories. It had been a while since they had spoken but he could still remember a few of the stories she had told him. The girl seemed to be a natural born story-teller and left an impression as much as the stories she told. This would be the perfect opportunity for a story teller like her, and so Elessar decided to try something he had never tried before; he was going to try being more like her! Wasn't that just a scary thought?

With a plan in mind Elessar's eyes began doing a bit of an imitation of Pris' ping-ponging as he looked between the two females before stopping to land on Madeline. Schooling his face into a serious look and a calm voice to match he began. "The way I heard it the last apprentage held the belief that painting on the water-layer for the mud peoples was a waste of her time and so she failed to do so, instead saying she indeed had when she hadn't. Without the precious water-layer many of the mud peoples simply crumbled away into nothingness leaving their friends behind. It was a sad time for the mud peoples, except for one. Master mud marshall Vox did not get sad like the others, no, instead he got angry. Very angry. And when it came time for his water-layer and he did not receive it he decided it was time to do something about it. So that night, long after the apprentage had gone to sleep Vox slipped away from his spot and snuck towards the inn. He slipped quietly inside and into the apprentage's room . . ." Elessar paused for a second to let his gaze drift between the girls to see if they were still listening before he ended the story. "What happened next nobody knows for sure, but the next day there was a trail of mud leading from the apprentage's room right back to Vox's spot."

That was the end of the story and Elessar tried his hardest to put on an innocent look as he waited for a reaction. There was a perfectly logical explanation to why the elf was more a writer than actual story-teller and as the previous story proved - the guy's stories usually ended being a tad on the creepy side.
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Re: pris and the meet me at three-thirty, mudholes -][- open

Post by Guest on Sat Jun 26, 2010 1:30 am

in a twist of good fortune, elessar's crumples were now officially safe from the shhvvurrrples and would not be thrown into the moat. because not only did pris like his story about vox, but she agreed with it. maybe elessar thought he was just making the story up, but little did he know how the history of the mud people happened. much like the landscape of pris' mind, where the past and present were ever-evolving when any new scrap of information was introduced, the history of the mud people could change at any moment.

like now. as thin-head the runaway mudman told her apprentage the tale pris helped make it mud law by parroting some of the phrases he said emphatically as she nodded very big, very important bobs of her head in madeline's direction. "saying she had, she hadn't…. crumbled away away a whirl away…angry. very angry. sliiiiiiiiiped away….sliiiiiiiiiped quietly inside….what happened next? what happened next? what happened next?" that was murmured in a rhythmic refrain under the last few sentences of elessar's story, no doubt to add to the urgency and suspense.

and when he was done, pris stabbed a mud covered finger emphatically upward as if she was trying to pop an invisible balloon over her head as she pronounced in complete corroboration with the elf's tale, "vluuuurp splissssh whiiiipple-pppfffffhhhht!" the eccentric girl made sure to elongate the punctuating fart noise as long as the air in her lungs would allow. talk about a water-layer, she sprayed spittle like a sprinkler!

"see, apprentage? see? thin-head goes to mudschool, thin-head knows what vox isht capable of nonny-hey." said with deep satisfaction as she bobbed her head in a series of smaller nods. "and for that!" after the louder exclamation the teenager froze her body as still as a statue to look between the two of them, her gaze going ping and pong to make sure each of them was paying attention. slowly her arms swept outward in time with a long, "hushhhhhhhhh." the command was a quiet quiet exhale, as pris made silence that way instead of letting it happen on its own.

the burst of motion that followed was sudden, pris skipping her way moat-side as she cried the conclusion in a smartly-rhymed triumphant sing-song. "for that, for that, for that thin-head gets his mud hat."

elessar's glorious moment had come! because what was just a large wet mess of mud in pris' arms now would soon be - after some tender sculpting care - his long awaited mud hat.

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