@NaviLilly: A-Ah, I'm actually really surprised it was so... Moving, I guess, even though that's not how you said it... I can't type today, please excuse my wobbliness. Thanks, thanks is what I'm trying to say!
@Band {I'm assuming it's you? x3}: The one on the left was meant to be the wizard, and if you look close enough you'll see that there are some really mild colors going on... ^^; But the sparkle in his eye was meant to show greed--he originally wanted his greed to be replaced by power... And now I'm rambling... Thank you~ <3
{ ___ }
@Band {I'm assuming it's you? x3}: The one on the left was meant to be the wizard, and if you look close enough you'll see that there are some really mild colors going on... ^^; But the sparkle in his eye was meant to show greed--he originally wanted his greed to be replaced by power... And now I'm rambling... Thank you~ <3
{ ___ }
GigglePie wrote:
xxx
"I'll grant you one wish... Or maybe three, only if you're not full of greed..."
"I want two wishes. I want two."
"Tell me what you so lustfully desire...?"
"One: I want my jealousy to be replaced by power..."
A shocked face of a delicate wizard. The candles are blown out by the sheer amazement.
"Two: I want you to stay here with me."
The ghastly cottage he had so delicately placed his soul in was actually swaying with the breeze. His hair wafted as well, shaggy violet-to-ebony locks shimmering with each gust. He let out a sigh that simmered with fairy dust as it flew from his mild lips before rising from his small cot.
A shady wind whispered again, but he didn't want to talk to the Gods right now; his plate offered more than he could clean already, and talking to them would only bid more favors. They blew again, this time so roughly he was almost cast from his feet.
"..W... Wii...Wizard...." They cried, weeping for the sake of sounding more desperate. "Heeee.... Lp... Help-p us, Wi...Z...Zard..."
He rose until his feet were acutely off the ground. Floating was one of the easiest ways to avoid the wind's hollow needs.
Wizard could help them another day, when perhaps he wasn't trying to be hiding in an enclosed environment. Once again did they blow, and shuffle his clothing and hair, but he couldn't hear them speak. They were working out of spite.
The hammer clanked on the rusty tool.
"Why..."
Another hit.
"Won't..."
Smack.
"You...!"
The tool went flying off the board.
"Work?!"
Wizard flew through the empty spaces of the forest, trying as hard as possible to cover himself deeply under a thicket of rose thorns. Only then could he be safe; no one could resist a rose, but it's thorns would protect it.
Wizard had no protection. Just solid gray eyes to counter a world of pain.
Flaky curses drifted from the Blacksmith's Shoppe, but the townspeople knew better then to ask what was wrong. No use it in anyways, and there was a fifty percent chance a hammer {or any other tool of similar size} would come flying at your face. He himself wasn't very pretty on the inside, but women swooned over a man with articulated muscles like he had so gracefully carved.
Sweat rolled down his face and across his chin before dribbling to the burning embers. It let out a wry cackle before leaving this world for one entirely of one's own.
After hours of tearing through the questionable forest, he came upon a small village. "This village," he claimed, "has thorns... And I will grant wishes to the largest one...,"
Meanwhile, the blacksmith's young eyes were wide as the hammer slapped across his hand.
A shady wind whispered again, but he didn't want to talk to the Gods right now; his plate offered more than he could clean already, and talking to them would only bid more favors. They blew again, this time so roughly he was almost cast from his feet.
"..W... Wii...Wizard...." They cried, weeping for the sake of sounding more desperate. "Heeee.... Lp... Help-p us, Wi...Z...Zard..."
He rose until his feet were acutely off the ground. Floating was one of the easiest ways to avoid the wind's hollow needs.
Wizard could help them another day, when perhaps he wasn't trying to be hiding in an enclosed environment. Once again did they blow, and shuffle his clothing and hair, but he couldn't hear them speak. They were working out of spite.
The hammer clanked on the rusty tool.
"Why..."
Another hit.
"Won't..."
Smack.
"You...!"
The tool went flying off the board.
"Work?!"
Wizard flew through the empty spaces of the forest, trying as hard as possible to cover himself deeply under a thicket of rose thorns. Only then could he be safe; no one could resist a rose, but it's thorns would protect it.
Wizard had no protection. Just solid gray eyes to counter a world of pain.
Flaky curses drifted from the Blacksmith's Shoppe, but the townspeople knew better then to ask what was wrong. No use it in anyways, and there was a fifty percent chance a hammer {or any other tool of similar size} would come flying at your face. He himself wasn't very pretty on the inside, but women swooned over a man with articulated muscles like he had so gracefully carved.
Sweat rolled down his face and across his chin before dribbling to the burning embers. It let out a wry cackle before leaving this world for one entirely of one's own.
After hours of tearing through the questionable forest, he came upon a small village. "This village," he claimed, "has thorns... And I will grant wishes to the largest one...,"
Meanwhile, the blacksmith's young eyes were wide as the hammer slapped across his hand.
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