Post by Dymion on Nov 6, 2015 1:55:34 GMT
"Have you ever taken the time to look at the man on the street? Not the one at the stall, peddling expensive trinkets, or the well dressed man, with his aura of power, but he who goes unseen, always resting with his back against the wall. If you haven't, do so now, and look at him carefully. His eyes are blindfolded, a dirty brown cloth tied to hide his eye sockets. Do you know why? He is blind, the eyes plucked out. Notice how he doesn't react to anything around him. He doesn't jump when the kids come running by, doesn't turn in response to the murmurs, or even when he is spoken to. His sight is not the only thing missing. Yes, even his hearing was stolen. And his speech too. He doesn't blather to get attention, doesn't wave his arms and scream so people will look at him. He just sits there, clutching that black case, as if waiting for something. Do you know what? I'll tell you: apple pies. He can smell them, better than anything else, and that's when he knows people are here. Watch, and you will see him start to move, opening his case. Until then, tell me what you see. Remember, just because he is a phantom right now, that doesn't mean he's not a person. So treat him like one, and tell me what makes him so."
"Well... he's a man, about six feet tall, I think. You can tell he has nowhere to go, his skin looks weathered and tanned, and his clothes are in terrible condition. But he doesn't look too frail, just... malnourished. The dirty brown of his tunic and trousers don't help. He doesn't have any shoes either... and even from here, I can see stubble forming on his jaws. He hasn't been out here too long... or maybe he has a razor, though probably not. His hair was well kept, once, though now the brown locks are untamed, falling into his... well, across the blindfold. He almost looks to be in his mid-twenties... I'll guess twenty-four. Oval shaped face, strong jawline, straight nose... he could look quite attractive, in other circumstances. I feel sorry for him... Sir, who is he?"
"His name is Silas Gaen, and he has been here for about a week. I met with the family that had brought him here, a nice group of people who says he had been with them for a few months. He comes from the city of Deyana, some few months south of here. In the region, it is known as the Jewel of the Coast, made of marble with beautiful murals, statues, and melodies constantly on the wind. They don't know how he came to be as he is, but the travelers found him in a city just north of Deyana. But he requested not to go back, and so he went with them."
"How?"
"How what?"
"How did he make a request?"
"Very big letters. In the dirt."
"And how did they talk to him?"
"... I don't know. Anyway, they couldn't care for him anymore by the time they got here, and asked me to look out for him. I haven't had to do much, though. The young man has a talent, and he is quite intelligent. I wish I could do more, but... my funds are low as is. If it comes to life or death, I will do what I can but... it hasn't reached that point, yet. Oh! He's moving. Watch carefully, and tell me what you see."
"Well, sir, he's put out a cup... a pint, I should say. And he's moving the case, his fingers stumbling to open it. He appears to have a... violin, the wood dark like mahogany, and a bow. But sir, how can he..."
"Shh. Listen."
"Sir... how does he..."
"Muscle memory. In life before now, he knew to play. Before you is the remnants of a great musician, and all he has left. Hope you never end up in his place."
"Well... he's a man, about six feet tall, I think. You can tell he has nowhere to go, his skin looks weathered and tanned, and his clothes are in terrible condition. But he doesn't look too frail, just... malnourished. The dirty brown of his tunic and trousers don't help. He doesn't have any shoes either... and even from here, I can see stubble forming on his jaws. He hasn't been out here too long... or maybe he has a razor, though probably not. His hair was well kept, once, though now the brown locks are untamed, falling into his... well, across the blindfold. He almost looks to be in his mid-twenties... I'll guess twenty-four. Oval shaped face, strong jawline, straight nose... he could look quite attractive, in other circumstances. I feel sorry for him... Sir, who is he?"
"His name is Silas Gaen, and he has been here for about a week. I met with the family that had brought him here, a nice group of people who says he had been with them for a few months. He comes from the city of Deyana, some few months south of here. In the region, it is known as the Jewel of the Coast, made of marble with beautiful murals, statues, and melodies constantly on the wind. They don't know how he came to be as he is, but the travelers found him in a city just north of Deyana. But he requested not to go back, and so he went with them."
"How?"
"How what?"
"How did he make a request?"
"Very big letters. In the dirt."
"And how did they talk to him?"
"... I don't know. Anyway, they couldn't care for him anymore by the time they got here, and asked me to look out for him. I haven't had to do much, though. The young man has a talent, and he is quite intelligent. I wish I could do more, but... my funds are low as is. If it comes to life or death, I will do what I can but... it hasn't reached that point, yet. Oh! He's moving. Watch carefully, and tell me what you see."
"Well, sir, he's put out a cup... a pint, I should say. And he's moving the case, his fingers stumbling to open it. He appears to have a... violin, the wood dark like mahogany, and a bow. But sir, how can he..."
"Shh. Listen."
"Sir... how does he..."
"Muscle memory. In life before now, he knew to play. Before you is the remnants of a great musician, and all he has left. Hope you never end up in his place."