Bellylaughs
TMF Poster
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2013
- Messages
- 147
- Points
- 16
The soft sound of water trickling over stones was what he loved most about the place. It reminded him of laughter. Specifically, the laughter of a girl he had not seen in a long, long time. Sighing, he stood up, and removed himself from the place. There were good memories there, but also sadness.
In this cozy walled garden, he took much needed solitude from the world and its pain. It was as if he were transported to another world each time; there was no sound to distract him from his plans, or in this case, daydreams. As he lifted the well-preserved latch with a click, he peered out, unwilling to have anybody discover his wonderful, secret, sacred place. It was his. All his.
Turning around quickly, his body flowed through the opening like smoke, silently and so smoothly as if he had always been walking on the path against the wall as if he had no knowledge of the magical realm within.
Jon, the grocer, interrupted his thoughts.
“Ay, mate! Yeh want to pick up some eiai fruit on your way?”
Jon the grocer was your typical jolly fat man who always talked much too loudly and had this… weird tendency to put his hands on his belly as he laughed, as if it would fall off from all of the jiggling it did.
Before the man could answer Jon, there was angered shouting, and soon a woman screamed that there was a huge rat in the street! While she was fussing and carrying on the man snapped in a flash of anger to nobody in particular.
“I have to go collect my… dog.” He spat out the word dog as if it were a bad muffin, and walked briskly towards the screaming and shouting. While on his way, he contemplated giving the scruffy looking tiny mutt a drastic trim.
Embarrassed, winded, and with his coat undone and flapping in the breeze, he apologized to the fancy lady all done up in her best dress as if she were going to a fancy dinner. He roughly scooped up the mutt and walked away, with his canine annoyance not so kindly clamped in his arms.
As soon as the way was clear of people and they came into a wilder part of the town, the dark shadow of a man turned to his friend.
“WHAT do you think you were DOING? You could have been DISCOVERED…! We could have landed IN JAAAIIL!” The man emphasized the word as if it were the worst possible thing to ever happen to a person. He would have gone on and on except for the fact he was cut off in a rather timid manner.
“I… I thought you wanted more recruits.” The dog had gone and in its place an athletic looking man appeared. It was apparent that he had not been successful in wooing any females for a while.
“If you use that form and cause ladies to scream again, we will lose our fun!”
“Fun for you.”
“Do you want to leave right now?” The dark man was fuming and likely wouldn’t listen to reason at the time.
“…….no.” came the defeated reply.
“Good.”
The man and his sidekick eventually arrived at their small repurposed castle. Back when dragons were commonly seen, from the small mud dragons which mostly kept to themselves, to the colossal rocky scaled mountain dwellers there was always danger in the past of a large hungry dragon eating you literally out of your house. Their castle would have been used by lower middle class families in a desperate attempt to shield themselves from being gobbled down, robbed, or burned alive by the beasts. It would only prove effective for the midrange to small ones, as the walls were thin and very roughly put together. Some would say poorly, but the structure was solid enough not to cave in on itself. The rock came from the nearest mountain and was gray with large specks of other colors in it.
The man was clad in his very ordinary clothes, the clothes he wore when he wanted to be invisible in plain sight, and he grunted heavily with not a small amount of frustration as he opened heavy castle door.
“What have you got?” he had turned to his partner, the both of them halfway inside the doorway that housed the iron braced oak door.
“You’ll LOVE this one. Being mistaken for a rat aside, I think you’ll like her.”
“Show me.”
They now fully entered the castle, passed the huge but now empty water barrels, over the luxuriously plush carpet and through the hallway that led to rough stone stairs leading upwards.
He would brag about his carpet, as he always did. He paid a crooked vendor of various magical artifacts, most of them fake, a decent but still quite high price for the carpet. As he recalled, the vendor gave him a nasty grin, that of one who knows just how badly their customer is being swindled. In this case however, the vendor was mistaken and the carpet was made of hinrak fur. You would think something that large and bovine would have rough textured, weatherbeaten wooly fur, but it instead quite soft, smooth, and nonirritating to even the most sensitive of skin. Hinrak fur also does not collect mold or rot and is said to cure disease just by laying upon it.
He smiled to himself, as he always did, silently celebrating his victory over the swindling vendor.
“Are you thinking about that damn carpet AGAIN??”
His assistant and now also a spindly black creature followed him up the stairs to another hallway when they stopped at a rather plain looking wooden door that was locked.
“Esh en Izol.”
Silently, the door swung open. It revealed a cramped with a threadbare carpet that looked like it at least used to be red. On top of the carpet was a thick felt pad, and resting before any viewer for the eye to behold was a large iron kettle with a clear and slightly shimmering purple liquid. By sight alone, it looked as if it would be a watery texture but in fact the magical fluid was rather like pudding or custard. It was thick and quite goopy.
The assistant could not contain his excitement, and pranced around nervously until he blurted out,
“Look, look! You will LOVE her!”
He nearly dropped the delicate glass vial that was holding a single black hair.
“BE CAREFUL WITH THAT!”
This amateur wizard lost his temper for the third time that day. It was concerning to his assistant because he was usually calm, but being slightly wiser than the average man he decided against mentioning it too soon. After all, he wasn’t there to talk, he was there to help.
Shaking with excitement and anticipation, he handed the vial to his unusual friend.
“Oh!” the magician exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air, “MY VEIL!”
The magician thought he would lose the vial for sure as it had been thrown from his hand as he gesticulated. Luck was on his side that day because he was wearing his bracelet he mainly used to tidy the castle quickly, like with magic. The vial hovered a few inches from his left wrist.
“Huh.” He grunted. “at least that works.”
The wizard rooted through a shabby looking double doored wardrobe, flinging clothes and weird smelling substances everywhere. At last he found a black embroidered robe that was slightly iridescently purple as well.
Finally, he uncorked the vial and gently dropped the hair into the viscous liquid. At first the kettle showed nothing as the hair still had yet to sink into the strange liquid. After the hair eventually sunk, the shimmering surface of the liquid started organizing itself ever so slowly, painfully so for the assistant, as he risked a lot to get the hair into the vial.
A nebulous pattern of light and dark became a grainy image and the grainy image became a clear image of a pissed off teenaged girl. She wore all black except for a blood red scarf around her neck. She looked disheveled and wasn’t in any school that the magician could discern. Soon, the kettle showed her take a seat on a rock as she repeatedly flicked her fingers as if to flick a bug out of the air. She soon started crying, and eventually curled up next to the rock and fell asleep.
Noticing the magician’s wide, toothy grin, the assistant beamed, knowing his job was well done and maybe he would be rewarded. He caught himself drooling and silently reprimanded himself. He was a professional assistant, and would probably be paid in money, not in what he really wanted.
Suddenly the magician briskly turned, tossed his robe in the still open wardrobe, and left the room.
There was one more room on the second floor. He kept his things there. The assistant was unsure of whether to follow him, so he stayed a safe distance back in case he wasn’t allowed. He had enough shouting for the day and his head hurt.
“Oh, come on.”
The magician opened a trunk with a dull but very loud thud. He tested some rope in his hand. His assistant stared, wide eyed, at the ropes which gave him an uncomfortable twinge.
“So… uh…. It’s…. for real then.”
“Yes, this time, it’s for real.”
He then addressed the beast which always followed him around like a needy puppy, and patted it on the head. Instantly, the creature grew in size, embraced the magician, and disappeared.
“I hate it when that happens…. The room gets so bloody cold….”
The assistant was still mumbling under his breath about how creatures like that were just waiting for a chance to kill you when he set to work cleaning up the table. Even though the magician had a spell for that, it was something to do.
In this cozy walled garden, he took much needed solitude from the world and its pain. It was as if he were transported to another world each time; there was no sound to distract him from his plans, or in this case, daydreams. As he lifted the well-preserved latch with a click, he peered out, unwilling to have anybody discover his wonderful, secret, sacred place. It was his. All his.
Turning around quickly, his body flowed through the opening like smoke, silently and so smoothly as if he had always been walking on the path against the wall as if he had no knowledge of the magical realm within.
Jon, the grocer, interrupted his thoughts.
“Ay, mate! Yeh want to pick up some eiai fruit on your way?”
Jon the grocer was your typical jolly fat man who always talked much too loudly and had this… weird tendency to put his hands on his belly as he laughed, as if it would fall off from all of the jiggling it did.
Before the man could answer Jon, there was angered shouting, and soon a woman screamed that there was a huge rat in the street! While she was fussing and carrying on the man snapped in a flash of anger to nobody in particular.
“I have to go collect my… dog.” He spat out the word dog as if it were a bad muffin, and walked briskly towards the screaming and shouting. While on his way, he contemplated giving the scruffy looking tiny mutt a drastic trim.
Embarrassed, winded, and with his coat undone and flapping in the breeze, he apologized to the fancy lady all done up in her best dress as if she were going to a fancy dinner. He roughly scooped up the mutt and walked away, with his canine annoyance not so kindly clamped in his arms.
As soon as the way was clear of people and they came into a wilder part of the town, the dark shadow of a man turned to his friend.
“WHAT do you think you were DOING? You could have been DISCOVERED…! We could have landed IN JAAAIIL!” The man emphasized the word as if it were the worst possible thing to ever happen to a person. He would have gone on and on except for the fact he was cut off in a rather timid manner.
“I… I thought you wanted more recruits.” The dog had gone and in its place an athletic looking man appeared. It was apparent that he had not been successful in wooing any females for a while.
“If you use that form and cause ladies to scream again, we will lose our fun!”
“Fun for you.”
“Do you want to leave right now?” The dark man was fuming and likely wouldn’t listen to reason at the time.
“…….no.” came the defeated reply.
“Good.”
The man and his sidekick eventually arrived at their small repurposed castle. Back when dragons were commonly seen, from the small mud dragons which mostly kept to themselves, to the colossal rocky scaled mountain dwellers there was always danger in the past of a large hungry dragon eating you literally out of your house. Their castle would have been used by lower middle class families in a desperate attempt to shield themselves from being gobbled down, robbed, or burned alive by the beasts. It would only prove effective for the midrange to small ones, as the walls were thin and very roughly put together. Some would say poorly, but the structure was solid enough not to cave in on itself. The rock came from the nearest mountain and was gray with large specks of other colors in it.
The man was clad in his very ordinary clothes, the clothes he wore when he wanted to be invisible in plain sight, and he grunted heavily with not a small amount of frustration as he opened heavy castle door.
“What have you got?” he had turned to his partner, the both of them halfway inside the doorway that housed the iron braced oak door.
“You’ll LOVE this one. Being mistaken for a rat aside, I think you’ll like her.”
“Show me.”
They now fully entered the castle, passed the huge but now empty water barrels, over the luxuriously plush carpet and through the hallway that led to rough stone stairs leading upwards.
He would brag about his carpet, as he always did. He paid a crooked vendor of various magical artifacts, most of them fake, a decent but still quite high price for the carpet. As he recalled, the vendor gave him a nasty grin, that of one who knows just how badly their customer is being swindled. In this case however, the vendor was mistaken and the carpet was made of hinrak fur. You would think something that large and bovine would have rough textured, weatherbeaten wooly fur, but it instead quite soft, smooth, and nonirritating to even the most sensitive of skin. Hinrak fur also does not collect mold or rot and is said to cure disease just by laying upon it.
He smiled to himself, as he always did, silently celebrating his victory over the swindling vendor.
“Are you thinking about that damn carpet AGAIN??”
His assistant and now also a spindly black creature followed him up the stairs to another hallway when they stopped at a rather plain looking wooden door that was locked.
“Esh en Izol.”
Silently, the door swung open. It revealed a cramped with a threadbare carpet that looked like it at least used to be red. On top of the carpet was a thick felt pad, and resting before any viewer for the eye to behold was a large iron kettle with a clear and slightly shimmering purple liquid. By sight alone, it looked as if it would be a watery texture but in fact the magical fluid was rather like pudding or custard. It was thick and quite goopy.
The assistant could not contain his excitement, and pranced around nervously until he blurted out,
“Look, look! You will LOVE her!”
He nearly dropped the delicate glass vial that was holding a single black hair.
“BE CAREFUL WITH THAT!”
This amateur wizard lost his temper for the third time that day. It was concerning to his assistant because he was usually calm, but being slightly wiser than the average man he decided against mentioning it too soon. After all, he wasn’t there to talk, he was there to help.
Shaking with excitement and anticipation, he handed the vial to his unusual friend.
“Oh!” the magician exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air, “MY VEIL!”
The magician thought he would lose the vial for sure as it had been thrown from his hand as he gesticulated. Luck was on his side that day because he was wearing his bracelet he mainly used to tidy the castle quickly, like with magic. The vial hovered a few inches from his left wrist.
“Huh.” He grunted. “at least that works.”
The wizard rooted through a shabby looking double doored wardrobe, flinging clothes and weird smelling substances everywhere. At last he found a black embroidered robe that was slightly iridescently purple as well.
Finally, he uncorked the vial and gently dropped the hair into the viscous liquid. At first the kettle showed nothing as the hair still had yet to sink into the strange liquid. After the hair eventually sunk, the shimmering surface of the liquid started organizing itself ever so slowly, painfully so for the assistant, as he risked a lot to get the hair into the vial.
A nebulous pattern of light and dark became a grainy image and the grainy image became a clear image of a pissed off teenaged girl. She wore all black except for a blood red scarf around her neck. She looked disheveled and wasn’t in any school that the magician could discern. Soon, the kettle showed her take a seat on a rock as she repeatedly flicked her fingers as if to flick a bug out of the air. She soon started crying, and eventually curled up next to the rock and fell asleep.
Noticing the magician’s wide, toothy grin, the assistant beamed, knowing his job was well done and maybe he would be rewarded. He caught himself drooling and silently reprimanded himself. He was a professional assistant, and would probably be paid in money, not in what he really wanted.
Suddenly the magician briskly turned, tossed his robe in the still open wardrobe, and left the room.
There was one more room on the second floor. He kept his things there. The assistant was unsure of whether to follow him, so he stayed a safe distance back in case he wasn’t allowed. He had enough shouting for the day and his head hurt.
“Oh, come on.”
The magician opened a trunk with a dull but very loud thud. He tested some rope in his hand. His assistant stared, wide eyed, at the ropes which gave him an uncomfortable twinge.
“So… uh…. It’s…. for real then.”
“Yes, this time, it’s for real.”
He then addressed the beast which always followed him around like a needy puppy, and patted it on the head. Instantly, the creature grew in size, embraced the magician, and disappeared.
“I hate it when that happens…. The room gets so bloody cold….”
The assistant was still mumbling under his breath about how creatures like that were just waiting for a chance to kill you when he set to work cleaning up the table. Even though the magician had a spell for that, it was something to do.
