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Post by Fabala Moonlance on Dec 28, 2010 16:25:33 GMT -5
"How can you speak of that so lightly?" Fabala asked, tone suddenly sharp. "When you yourself were trembling - yes, I saw that - at the mere thought of your father? My father died of a terrible diease that I don't even know the name of because no one would tell me! No one could tell me!" She wasn't screaming, but her voice was defenitely higher than the normal conversational level. "Everyone dies, yes, but life is a gift! We live because we were blessed with the opportunity to; stop whining about death and Hell and be thankful you're alive!"
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Post by Tobias Lysand on Dec 28, 2010 16:33:33 GMT -5
Lysand looked at her for a moment. "My father died in a pool of his own blood. His own blood, yet he was not stabbed. Murdered all the same though. His only son, the only living member of his family, kept away from his beside. Left to just watch the snow fall outside his window. So sorry if I lack the pity you wish of me." He looked at her for a brief moment before pushing past her toward the cemetery again. "It's funny... I am quite sure that it is you doing the whining here, miss."
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Post by Fabala Moonlance on Dec 29, 2010 21:12:44 GMT -5
"I'm not asking for pity!" She spun around and glared at his back, fists clenched at her sides. "Why do you hide your pain? You're obviously hurting. What's wrong with crying a little? You're allowed to grieve. Holding back your tears and quieting your sobs will only harm you more!"
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Post by Tobias Lysand on Dec 29, 2010 21:20:36 GMT -5
Lysand stopped at her words, looking up at the sky for a few moments. "It has been sixteen years. The time for mourning has long passed." He was quiet a moment more. before, "You don't realize who I am, do you? Well, no matter. I am a politician. Showing complete strangers my emotions? It is beneath me, surely."
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Post by Fabala Moonlance on Dec 29, 2010 21:31:06 GMT -5
"It's OK to hurt a little now and then, even if the event that caused that hurt has long passed. And showing your emotions to strangers isn't always a bad thing...in fact, it's what I do for a living; playing music. I affected you with my music, as I do with others. Being weak in front of someone, stranger or no, isn't always a problem, or frowned upon. Everyone has their weaknesses, politician or commoner."
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Post by Tobias Lysand on Dec 29, 2010 21:41:10 GMT -5
He turned toward her slowly, blank expression still on his face. "But there is a point when one has far too many weaknesses. A point where hiding them from others is the only way to be able to cope with them at all. Have you ever considered that I do not want to have my weakness on display for mere commoners to gossip about?" He stared at her a moment more before looking away. "I know you not, bard, and you know not me. So perhaps I can tell you this much. I've displayed far too many weakness lately to allow me to present any more."
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Post by Fabala Moonlance on Jan 2, 2011 18:19:02 GMT -5
Fabala was silent at this, begrudgingly admiting to herself that there was nothing wrong with what he had just said, and no words for her to offer in return.
It was a while before she spoke once more.
"Sorry...I went too far with that." She bit her lip, kicking at a pebble that had been partially buried in snow. "It's just...this season brings about memories of my father, as well, and some issues within myself I'd rather not face..."
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Post by Tobias Lysand on Jan 2, 2011 18:29:08 GMT -5
Lysand had been about to walk away when she spoke once more. "So your father died in the winter as well?" He looked back up at the sky, watching the snow fall. He shivered slightly as the cold began to sink into his bones. Oh how he dreaded winter... "It's not uncommon, I suppose."
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Post by Fabala Moonlance on Jan 3, 2011 11:06:24 GMT -5
"No, he passed in late summer..." Fabala corrected in a quiet tone, pulling at her shawl subconsciously to keep the cold from getting at her arms. "He just loved the snow ever so much...and Christmas...oh, he adored that holiday..."
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Post by Tobias Lysand on Jan 3, 2011 15:45:35 GMT -5
"I supposed it would be rare to find someone who didn't like Christmas," Lysand replied. He watched her for a moment, unsure what he could say. He certainly didn't want to start opening up to a stranger. After a few moments of looking at her with his emotionless face, he turned again. "I should really be visiting that grave and getting inside... It's too cold for me to be out here for long."
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Post by Fabala Moonlance on Jan 3, 2011 16:01:06 GMT -5
"Please, don't let me hold you up..." Fabala transfered her mandolin to both hands - for she had been holding it with one and by the neck for the majority of the conversation thus far - and fingered the strings absently.
After a moment, she called out to him:
"...It was nice meeting you, sir!"
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Post by Tobias Lysand on Jan 3, 2011 16:05:41 GMT -5
"I suppose that it was not dreadful meeting you," Lysand commented, fingers curling around the fur insides of his mantle. He moved into the cemetery, kneeling in front of his father's grave. It was right next to his mother's... His eyes moved to the empty plot of land next to it; how long until he was buried there? His fingers lowered, brushing against the snow on the ground. Snow.... How he hated the snow...
It made his world much too cold.
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Post by Fabala Moonlance on Jan 3, 2011 16:21:27 GMT -5
( La fin~ ;D )
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