Deathly hues

<font color='#000080'>|:| O O C |:|

I didn't mean the entry to be so long, but it sort of typed it by itself (just joking, LoL)! Don't let it scare you away.

<ul type=square>
<li>Day: 37
<li>Month: Mia
<li>Year: 81378
</ul>

|:| I C |:|

Laughter and sunlight trickled through the air all around her, as Jasmine, slowly and carefully, descended a trodden down path towards the small town. She didn't know why she had even bothered climbing up one of the highest cliffs around, its end jutting out into the open, high above the sea. Perhaps it had something to do with her need of escaping the endless babble and conversation one couldn't possibly hide from down here.

The hunchbacked female slid into a rest, grabbing the rusty iron railing for support. She was mid-way down, and the piers lay stretched in front of her. They resembled the shore's numerous fingers, eager to grasp the blue waves and pull then out of sight. Brown boats, tiny from this distance, swam atop the aqua waters, their owners lying lazily on their backs, their fishing rods and nets slung over the stern. Jasmine snorted, her face edging into a smirk. She tore her gaze away from the sea and looked at her destination - the town.

Though originally a mere vacational resort, the village had grown and grown, tourists supplying all of its needs. Yet that still wouldn't be enough. The greatest boost came when a well-known tattoo-dealing company decided to move to the East coast. For the production of tattoos, they needed ink. Ink that could be colored in many shades, one that posed no health problems and lastly - or firstly perhaps - one that wasn't too expensive. When they heard that around the fishing piers lives a fish breed that produces such coloring, using it for self-defense, the whole company moved quickly and quietly to the sea. They settled in this nifty townlet, helping it become famous for its tattoos, while its inhabitants in turn supplied them with the ink.

Jasmine knew the story. Everyone did, after all. The censored, public version was carved out in a stone tablet in the middle of the townsquare. But it took just one night in one of the town's pubs to learn all the details and background.

The hunchback let go of the railing with a sigh and moved down the path. She kept her head to the ground, her black eyes reflecting every pebble she walked over. Her black hair, tinged with silver, hung over her graying head, blotting out some of her auburn scales. Jasmine's stretched legs hobbled on and her whole body swayed as she kept her balance. Anyone would have had her for an elderly Kiom returning from an early afternoon walk. Sometimes she just wanted to yell into the faces of those that looked at her with concern, cry "I'm in my twenties, hello! Don't treat me like I was at Death's door!" out to them. She never did of course, what good would it do?

She reached the beach, a long band of yellow sand sometimes bridged over by a pier. Tufts of bottle green seaweed coated the line of the tide, an odd seashell glittering sometimes from the depths of their folds. Jasmine moved on, because this faraway part of the beach was deserted. Further down, pendragons lay sprawled on blankets, sunbathing, Niotis played in the shallow water while their parents were either out fishing or enjoying a nice swim. It was allowed to swim only as far as the piers went - the rest of the sea was the fishermens' domain. The auburn female walked across the beach, her black paws dipping into the hot sand with each step. All of a sudden, she glimpsed a young pendragon, about nine hundred perhaps, standing a little way off and giving her a curious look.

Jasmine growled softly and was about to dodge the child and continue, when she suddenly had a strange feeling she had met this girl before. She looked at her, her face expressionless but her mind raging. Was it just a déjà vu? No, it wasn't. Jasmine could clearly remember where she had noticed this individual in the past. The child had been lying on the porch of a summer house, tears welling out of its eyes and crying in pain. Someone, her mother presumably, had been sitting by her side putting cloths drenched in cold water over the Niotie's haunch. Jasmine didn't look on though, it wasn't her manner to spy on other pendragons, so she just moved on. Probably a tattooing gone wrong.

But the girl in front of her didn't look unhappy or in pain. Tattoos hurt for a long time and Jasmine doubted that this Niotie would be very good at pretending. Just to make sure, she decided to ask.

"Have you got a tattoo made recently?" she barked at the kid. It was so taken aback with surprise that it only managed to shake its head. Jasmine sighed. So it was here again, she was remembering things that were yet to happen. A part of her Seer's gift. Anyway, it was the only thing the hunchback did to earn herself a living, and this girl was to be no exception.

Meanwhile, the girl had spotted Jasmine's Seer mark - a tattoo of an eye in the middle of her forehead - and her boldness returned. She danced around on the place, excited.

"You're a Seer right?" she exclaimed, smiling up at Jasmine and quickly continuing, "Oh, I knew I was gonna meet one today, that strange 'dragon at Ma's place told me I will and he's supposed to be one too, I mean you've gotten a third eye, m'kay? You do fortunes for 'dragons, say you do, come on, please, I wanna know what will happen in the future, what'll become of me and whether that boy in the dorm down the hall will..."

"Shut up!" yelled the hunchback, one paw protectively over her ears. She gave the girl a stern look and said menacingly: "I know something about you, something that will happen. But you probably won't like it, and anyway, I don't work for free."

"Oh that ain't no prob!" the little girl exclaimed, "Wait here, I'll gettya something." She raced across the sand, jumping onto an isolated blanket. She dug into one of the backpacks that lay on top of it and returned, as quick as lightning, with a palmful of small gems.

"Here," she said, thrusting the gems into Jasmine's paw, "I'm getting much more for my hatchday soon, so I can do what I want with these ole' uns. Now my fortune!" she demanded, sitting in front of Jasmine and barring her way. "I don't mind if I dun like it, t'least 'twon't be some nonsense the girls at school tell out of cards." she added as she watched Jasmine check the gems for anything that might disvalue them, and finding nothing, add them to a pouch hanging around her neck. The hunchback then proceeded to tell the Niotie about the badly done tattoo, not leaving out any detail, but not adding anything on either. Her face stayed stonecold as she talked, even though the mug of her customer changed dramatically. The girl sat, looking scared and on the verge of tears.

Finished with her prediction, Jasmine moved around the girl, walking slowly away without as much as glancing back. The child got what it asked for, and for Jasmine, the bargain was finished and it was as if the two of them had never met. She fingered the pouch around her neck and headed towards one of the town's inns for a late lunch.</font>

 

<font color='#000080'>|:| O O C |:|

Weehee, can't resist replying, though I should probably wait for more people to join

|:| I C |:|

Jasmine jumped, turning her head towards the pendragon next to her. She had not heard him join her, and his words rang unexpectedly in her ears. Only then did she realise exactly what he had said and she chuckled a little, resuming her stony face almost instantly.

Good at guessing, aren't you? she spoke in telepathy, sending her thoughts out to him. I don't mind... though I can't understand why. It's not as if I was a young beauty or anything. She was not as rude to him as she had been to the Niotie, because though she didn't show it, she had been taken aback by his question. She shook her hair out of her eyes and glanced at him, noticing the tattoo on his haunch. So he had a third eye as well. Despite herself, Jasmine wondered briefly what exactly his abilities were. Maybe it was guessing and getting answers right? Presumably there was something second as well, and maybe a third ability to sum it up. How easy it would be to find out, to read the mind of her young companion...! The female smirked at herself, abandonning the thought, and forgetting her brief curiosity also. After all, this was just another pendragon, one of a thousand, another Seer, one of a hundred. What's so special about him? Coming to it, what's so special about herself? Nothing... they would be the most vague couple to everyone else just like everyone else was vague to them.

A sigh escaped her throat and she stole another glimpse at the white pendragon beside her. To her surprise, she saw that his eyes were the color of snow. Perhaps he was blind? It wouldn't make any difference if he was, he moved, walked and appeared just like any other pendragon. Jasmine tore her gaze away and mounted the steps of an inn. She stopped for a moment on the landing, cocking her head and surveying the gold letters that lay strewn above the door. They spelled 'Fisherman's Inn' and Jasmine couldn't help but smile. Very original.

This looks fine enough, she murmured in telepathy, Coming in?</font>

 

<font color='#000080'>Nodding in silent agreement, Jasmine hobbled through the door. She shuffled through the hall and pushed through the second door, entering the main room. It had a low ceiling, propped up on darkbrown beams. Nets and fishing utilities were hanging on the walls and the whole room was fitted to seem like a fisherman's cottage. It was pleasant and cozy, a faint salty scent sifting through the air. Jasmine allowed a sarcastic smirk to appear on her face. No rotting fish? Awww. It didn't come to her that she was always being sarcastic, grinning melancholically or smirking most of the time. She was used to it, and knew that pendragons had two distinctive ideas of Kioms: either a sweet white-haired granny or grandpa, or a witch. Jasmine preferred to be a "witch" and in her opinion, smirking went with the job.

She eased her bones down on a rough-hewn bench, the pouch on her neck falling with a thump on the tabletop. There were two menus lying on the table; she grabbed one and began leafing through it, scanning the text and narrowing her eyes.

Nothing except fish, she sighed to her companion, the thoughts flowing from her mind as easily as if they were buttered, What could we expect though? At a 'Fisherman's Inn'?

But even Jasmine couldn't be sarcastic about the various dishes offered. For there were many choices, and the female didn't take long to pick, deciding for some carp-thing-or-other. She closed the menu and rested her forearms on the table, her elbows suspended in mid-air.

Her eyes were like two black holes, belonging for a moment to someone else, totally unrelated to the Seer. Jasmine half-closed them, giving the impression of thinking of something else. But infact her ears were wide open, listening to bits of conversation that they could pick out from the middle-toned hum echoing all around. Sometimes it payed off to eavesdrop. Even if it didn't, it couldn't hurt to be aware of recent news and changes.

"... totally gone, I say," was the first sentence she caught. A burly pendragon sitting two tables from them was gesturing wildly and talking in the local accent, "We've been fishing there for a week, yap, seven days 'n nights, I say. And we didn't even see them! Ole' Charlie said somethin' scared them 'way, but I don't agree with that, yap, that's what I say. It'd take something mighty big to scare the fishynks away, that's..."

"Oh, goddam Kyle, that's what you say, we all know that!" interrupted a second voice, high and whining. The whole table burst into laughter and Jasmine winced, concentrating on another place. A pendragon sat alone at a table, hair matted and horn-rimmed spectacles sliding down his sweaty nose. He was pouring his heart out to the waiter.

"... So we got him the tattoo he wanted, a spider-web on his haunch," the pendragon wailed, pushing his glasses to his eyes, "But something went wrong, and he's limping around, barely able to walk! I went to the place they've tattooed him and demanded some explanation, but... yes, I'll take the pike. With mustard, please... They told me that it was normal and that it will wear off in a couple of days. Yes, I'll take a small ale as well, thank you. But I remember when I was getting tattooed and it didn't hurt at all, only scabbed down a little the next week. But nothing of this sort... Our poor boy! No desert, thanks... Yes, yes, I'm sure it will get all right eventually, but it's been going on for three days now. I mean... oh, sure, I understand. Sorry for holding you up!"

The waiter started walking away, leaving the pendragon to fiddle with his glasses, parental love getting the better of him. Jasmine sighed and relaxed. It was quite enough for today. Apparently the small girl she encountered on the beach wasn't the only one with tattoo problems.</font>

 

<font color='#000080'>"I'll take the carp," said Jasmine, her voice breaking the silence. She didn't say anything else as the waiter nodded and, after ticking off Kazul's dish, bowed himself out of their presence and trotted away. Jasmine's gaze followed him until he was out of earshot, her mouth somewhat lopsided with a hint of a growl. She reached forwards, the bench under her creaking, and grasped her cup, gulping down some of the liquid inside. The water slid down her throat, as soothing and cooling as ever. The cup clanked down upon the tabletop, and Jasmine wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Only then did she telepath the Arden sitting in front of her.

All what about? came her question, though she clearly expected no answer. She didn't sound angry or agitated, only mildly surprised and uncaring, I find it very useful to know the whereabouts of what's going on here. I just sit back and listen to the babble in the inns... I learned the true story of the whole tattoo concern here, not at that good-for-nothing stone slab at the square. She stopped for a moment, taking another drink from the earthenware cup in front of her. She threw a dark look at the fishermen who were laughing and talking around their table, sweeping their sun-tanned arms widely and jumping in each others' monologues.

The "fishynk" is a local slang word for the piscine they use to produce ink, Jasmine continued, weaving her fingers together. She appeared to study her hands carefully, her head low, almost touching the table, her hump protruding from her back, casting shade on the table. It was a few minutes' silence before she resumed her telepathy.

From what I've gathered so far, there was always plenty of those fish around the piers. But from what that individual over there, she inclined her head in Kyle's direction, said, suddenly there's not enough of them anymore. You probably caught that yourself. It's not as if he knew how to keep his voice low.

The Thill smirked, looking up. Her black lights interlocked with Kazul's white gaze. As she met his look, the Seer tattoo at the centre of her forehead sent a thin needle of pain into her brain. She winced, blinked and looked away. She had no idea what it had meant... presumably that the male was a Seer as well? Probably not. Jasmine encountered hundreds of pendragons each day, and if she was to get a headache whenever she saw a Seer, she would be dead by now.

Who cares anyway? Jasmine didn't. She strangled the pain with her legendary pillow of emotional lacking and was back to herself in the next second. Cold and careless.</font>

 

<font color='#000080'>|:| O O C |:|

Sorry I didn't reply for so long. I didn't notice you've edited your post

|:| I C |:|

"I'm fine!" she snapped, suddenly using her voice. She quirked her eyebrows in confusion. Now why exactly did she do this? Why was she so snappy all at once? She looked away from Kazul, the slightest hint of red appearing on her cheeks in embarassement. When had someone last asked her if she was all right? Jasmine couldn't remember. She pursed her lips and turned her head back, staring at the table and avoiding the gaze of the white pendragon at the table.

Of course, she sent over, stable inside and able to telepath normally again. She remembered the perils of alcohol clearly. Not that long ago she got hitched up on a bittersweet beige liquer, commonly known as 'Duchess's drink'. It was cheap and quite popular with lower-class females. Yet after getting completely drunk for the first time, Jasmine had almost lost her Seeing ability. From then on, after the terrible morning when she couldn't access Fronima, the hunchback had discarded strong drinks from her life. Too dangerous. But she knew what Kazul meant by pendragons who try to drown their lives in drinking.

I've never tried unlocking their mouths with drink, she continued, surveying the pendragons from under half-closed lids, If you are patient enough you get what you want out of them even without letting them even know your are around. Often one reads between words as well.</font>

 

<font color='#000080'>Can't actually see why you would want to remember it, telepathed Jasmine, making her mind voice sound dry. Coloring her telepathy with feelings was one of her Journeyman graduation questions. She had passed it, even though the teachers gave her amused and somewhat uncertain looks. They couldn't see why this young student chose feelings so cold. Cold, harsh, dry and uncaring were just a few from her choices. She was perfect at managing them.

Jasmine Krill, she continued, discarding any "coloring" from her telepathy. She heaved her shoulders, the cursed hump swaying above her neck like the backbone of a camel. Normally, the two words she uttered would be the only response to his question. But the Arden wasn't like other pendragons, and this certainly wasn't a normal situation. Confusion swirled around her mind, and for another time in her life, Jasmine felt unable to make choices. She would never expect such an understanding from an adult pendragon, nor such right and agreeing "words of wisdom". With a silent snort, Jasmine broke her rules of never letting anyone know anything about her.

"Jasmine Krill," she repeated, then paused and continued, "Aged twenty-six hundred, Journeyman of Seeing and Telepathy." There. Though she had not been asked, here she was, spilling her personal information out. Personal information? she though to herself, silent laughter heaving through her sides. It was things that she put in every signing-up sheet. The things that were burried deep in the Janardan Academy records. Things that had been written in pencil, in tiny handwriting into her family birthbook. Nothing personal about them.

The waiter returned, two big oval plates on his arm, spice-scented smoke drifting from the food on them. He set the carp in front of Jasmine, putting the salmon in front of Kazul in the next instant.

Jasmine nodded, not reaching for the knife and fork yet. Instead, she formed a question in her mind, sending it out to the white pendragon.

And what's your name?</font>

 

|:| O O C |:|

Sorry for not replying for a week. School assignements stole all my time, but now that it's actually started, things should get better.

|:| I C |:|

I wish I was a child, she telepathed sharply, a sneer breaking her face apart, My childhood was stolen from me by two of Fate's jokes. He's been cruel to me, Fate, oh yes indeed, but at least I wasn't surprised to find myself out of the Academy, Journeyman tests passed and on my own. She paused, her breathing suddenly shallow and fast. Jasmine closed her eyes, trying to calm down. At last she managed to gather herself and she picked up her fork. Prodding the carp's ribs, she smelled the strong scent that arouse from her meal, inhaling it and almost tasting the slightly squishy taste on her tongue. Cutting of a peace, she propped it into her mouth, swallowing. The she paused, the fork suspended in her clenched hand.

It tastes good as well, she sent out to Kazul, the fork still hovering two inches above the plate, I don't mind talking about it, the old story's sharp edges have been rinsed so much that they do not prod anymore. I was born in Sumundra, in the underwater city of Aurius. Into a posh family, where I was cherished and taken care of, until my hump fomed. Jasmine moved sideways a little, showing Kazul the full profile of her deformation. It stood like a small hill above woods of spiked black hair, sloping downwards on the other side like the backbone of a hyena. Settling back into her former position, Jasmine continued:

I was sent to the Academy, and all was well until I turned ten hundred. It was then that I caught an aging sickness, but no one realised what it was after the after effect had begun to take place. For every year through which I live, my body lives through five. That's why I look like a Kiom, and that's why I have to limp along on battered and stretched feet. You though my words were wise; well, I tell you that you would hear them from anyone who's spent their teenage years listening to their time tick away. I am younger than you, in fact, though two years ago you would still have been teaching me the Journeyman level of Telepathy.

Jasmine started eating, looking down at the table. She had said her fill for the next couple of days, at least. That was what she though, anyway, though it proved to be wrong. Something had been broken in the sullen Arden.

 

|:| O O C |:|

So it's the same situation for us :) and that's decided.

|:| I C |:|

Jasmine finished her food quickly, laying her knife and fork down. The carp has been very good, and it satisfied her hunger, which was enough for her. The gems that her young customer had payed her would be just enough to cover the cost. She stretched her hands out, joining her fingers in an arc above the tabletop. Her tail swished against the back of her chair, creating low thumping noises.

That's unpleasant, she remarked, hearing about his memory loss, What are your first memories then? And how did you know you were exactly twenty hundred? She tried to picture not knowing anything that had befallen her for such a long time. To her immense surprise, Jasmine found out that she would be rather sorry if she didn't remember her early memories. Not even the bad ones. It seemed to her that if she went through one thing for the first time - and it turned out bad for her, she wouldn't repeat it in the future. If she didn't remember it, she would probably go on making a cow out of herself one more time. Jasmine raised her eyebrows at her inner deductions, smiling a half-smile. Nothing is ever wasted and if her memories were taken away from her, a part of her would go with as well. That was not something that anyone would feel like doing, least of all Jasmine. Keep to yourself and don't expand. To stop people from breaking your feelings, don't let on that you have some. Freeze them. Strangle them with a pillow.

Why I am here? she repeated, looking slightly thoughtful. She searched through her mind, but then concluded that she had never seen or Remembered Kazul before. Good. Jasmine telepathed, slowly and carefully as the words crossed the treshold of her mind:

A job? Nuh-uh, she shook her head reproachfully, I like bigger cities. Anonymity. Plus, you can dissapear one day without any notice and the employer just shrugs and hires someone else. When out somewhere else, I have to tell the future for others. Not Master training either. I'm not exactly prepared for that, what I know is enough for me right now. Maybe someday in the oncoming years, she cocked her head to one side, looking sideways into a far wall. She took a breath and went on with her true reason, the one why she left her somewhat secure position in Janardan's suburbs and came to this resort.

I've had a lot of Rememberings lately, she explained, I mean remembering something that will happen in the future. Mostly about pendragons from this area, quite a few of them. All of them will have severe pains in the next few months, due to badly done tattoos. Maybe it's not that they're badly done, but something else, something that's kept secret. I want to check the whole situation out and see if something can be done. She snorted. Not that I'd care a whole lot about whether some stupid Nioti can't walk for a few days or not. But they could be running against something serious - like the fishynks for example. Why can't anyone find them now-a-days?

 

|:| O O C |:|

.:bangs head into a wall:. Lautir, I'm SO sorry for leaving you like this! .:wails:. I know I deserve nothing good done to me after two weeks of not replying. Eeek. I'm very sorry again, this time I've got absolutely NO excuse for this freakingly long absence. It won't happen again, I promise!

|:| I C |:|

I have never met anyone around here, concluded Jasmine briskly and scowled, Not that I would care, all these pendragons here are having a good time and on vacation. Why bother them with me?

She chuckled, but then snapped her fingers as a sudden idea crossed her mind. She looked at Kazul thoughtfully, but before she could share her sudden thought, the waiter hurried over to them. He had evidently miss-comprehended Jasmine's snap as an order for him. He stood prepped up by their table, pulling his notebook and wallet out. Jasmine wanted to shoo him away at first, but then again, maybe it was a good idea to leave the restaurant already. Their food was eaten, and who knows, someone of these guests could be a telepathy-interpretter. If they belonged to the tattoo company, this "innocent" conversation would make their ears perk up.

Sighing, Jasmine handed the waiter the gems. It was enough and she still had a couple of them left over, which was just as well. Standing up, she winced as she was forced to bend her head down again, the hump on her back claiming its tax. She pushed the chair back, deciding to telepath Kazul right away. She was rather impatient to share her idea with him.

I think I've got a theory, she telepathed quickly, The tattoo company is a large concern, it's the largest income of this town and the most important reason why tourists come here. They have to use fishynks to make their colors. Then one day, the fishynks are fished out or move away, just like you said. The company should shut down since they've lost their essential material. But they can't because it would mean an economical disaster for the town, not to meantion the company itself. So they use something else, and the pendragons are allergic to it. They're probably experimenting with many different kinds of this stuff, but on the outside, they can't let on that anything has happened. So they use untested colors. It's just plain outrageous! They've got to be stopped! I mean, who knows what the aftereffects of these colors is? What if the Niotis and newly-tattooed pendragons are wounded for life? And no one knows this.

Jasmine growled softly, imagining all the catastrophes that could befall the young ones. Why, maybe they could get the aging disease as well... or grow a hump... Jasmine was melting down. She could not NOT care about this, for even she didn't want someone to experience the same things that she had had to.

 

|:| O O C |:|

Good for me, that you're patient :) My NeoPets account was hacked, after two years! I'm rather agitated about that, so I've just left...

|:| I C |:|

She walked through, flashing a small, grateful smile at him. Outside, the sun had dipped into the second half of its voyage, lengthening the shadows. It was just some time after noon, perhaps one o'clock. Anyway, the inhabitants of the East Coast were in their huts, having a well-earned siesta. Still the beaches weren't deserted, because little tourists cared about local customs and had a good time swimming twenty four hours a day.

Why couldn't we? Jasmine asked, lifting her eyebrows, It wouldn't be so hard, after all. We could get in there at night, like burglars. Or we could get hired as extra workers.

She rubbed one of her black eyes with the back of her paw, blinking. Suddenly she couldn't see anything with her left eye, only deep blackness. Jasmine growled silently and leaned against the side of the inn, patiently witing for the period of blindness to pass. It did, after a moment, and she placed her weight on all fours again, trotting over to Kazul's side. She looked around, and then turned towards a large square building off to the far side of the town. The factory.

Hmm, she mused quietly, If this gets out, all of the owners will be put under a lock. No problem with that. And there is another company who deals with tattoos, only it has its headquarters in Swaraj. It uses something else, I'm not sure what, as ink. Their tattoos are certainly not contagious, and they are usually done very well. The price is higher of course, but not by much. So I don't think that young Pendragons would have a real reason to be scared of losing their tattoos.

A narrow street opened up before them. Suddenly Jsmine stopped, clearly concentrating on something else. After a moment she shook her head and gave a tired sigh.

I've had another Remembering, she scoffed in mind-speak, but her words had a grave edge to them, Someone is going to die. Looks like we better hurry.