Dimetri

(( Vocal reading of this piece available here.

Much of the Company noticed my growing belly, now that I am almost halfway along and have gained eight pounds. My armor fit me like normal until yesterday, when this bulge popped up in my sleep. Why does this child think he can just roll around and stretch out my abs, rubbing against the backside of them until it is smooth and comfy? I may have created the little thing, but that doesn’t give right to abuse my insides.

When one awakes from sleepless slumber,
One feels empty,
Confused.

Satin drapes carress my cheek as I look upon the morning dew drops glissening off the sunlit clearing of the surrounding forest from my window. The light of dawn has already passed, yet the glow of the awakening earth tingles within my eyes. My heart flutters with happiness, yet a tear runs down my silk covered arm, staining the white fabric with a very fine gray.

The life,
The man I once was,
The wild dreams of a madman,
Now Darkness.

Dripping.

“I told you all of this before If you would just listen a moment and stop accusing me of things you would have all the information you are asking for!”

Kenon hates Blood Knights, or at least pushy, in-your-face Blood Knights

(( Started from "Safe in Silvermoon?" ))

"Rya ... Rya you need to go through the portal...."

Why is there so much blood?

"Rya! Rya, go now!"

Dimetri? Where am I going? Why are you not coming? Who's blood is that? ... Dimetri?

"Don't you touch her, Sunblade!"

Who are you yelling at, Dimetri? I am the only Sunblade here ...

"Now, Kenon! Take her now!"

No, Dimetri! Don't make me leave you! No!

"Bad place for a fight," a voice whispered in his ear.

"It is," Dimetri agreed lightly, then caught himself. He was suddenly terrified. Someone was walking along just behind him. Just a shadow, just a shape at his shoulder.

((A backstory to "... In a Far Away Land ..." ))

How foolish I am to tell you this story here.

"If you could be a beverage, what would you be and why?"

You know, right when I was called down I knew I wasn't going to win. The woman they choose as the Bachelorette was pretty, for a troll, but just from looking at her I could tell she had the personality of someone I would not get along with; I don't generally get along with trolls unless in the darkness of a bedroom where we do not talk about anything. Still, I volunteered to participate, so I might as well play along and be honest.

"Fizzy Fruit Wine ... because, well, I'm a fruit!"

"How am I supposed to put on this crap anyway?"

Moriurya held out a little tub of paste from her nose, hating the scent it gave off. Her golden eyes look to Dimetri, who was about ready to burst with laughter at the youthful woman he was watching.

"Come now, dear; you have never used this stuff? I will tell you now that you may not like the feeling, but if you want to get into the city you are going to have to use it," the mage chuckled as he gently flicked the tip of her left ear as he walked by her to the book shelves along the wall.

Rya turned to follow his gaze. "I have never tried to get into the Capital Human City under disguise, you know that! The last time I visited there was my mother's last time traveling the world, before we Elves felt abandoned by the Humans during the attacks of the Scourge. It has been at least seven years, I think?"

Lawrence.

With the defeat of the Lich King and the Scourge threat subdued, Dalaran had become a quiet city. Of course, there were still the magisters, scholars, tradespeople, and those practiced in certain other skills, but the streets only had a few travelers, outsiders, here and there, seeking something quickly before disappearing by portal or hearthstone.

Like Shattrath after the desctruction of the Burning Legion, Dalaran earned the "Ghost Town" nickname by anyone who was not a resident. For those whom lived in the floating metropolis, it felt very much like times before the influx of adventurers and heroes.

Just the way Diemtri liked it.

"Do you now, Rya?"

Gilithanas' voice spoke clearly, harsh even. The sound of a gun locked into place came from the entrance of the club they were outside of. The first thing that came to Rya's mind is, "Oops," but you do not say such a thing in front of a lawyer with a gun pointed in your general direction. If Gil was aiming at herself or at Tiradell, she could not tell.

4.

- - - - - - - - - -

(( A continuation of "Part One" of the events that happened on 2/17/2011 ))

"Rya, sweetie, can you do me a favor?"

Joyia's voice came through a private message just after Gilthånås had finished his own message, still trying to persuade me of the evils of the world.

"Tiradell will not stop until Iloam is dead."
"I understand how Tiradell is ... and I will stop at nothing until I am certain Iloam is safe."

I responded to Gil first only because the conversation we had been involved in was more important to me than a favor for a girl I only barely know. Gil may have pulled a gun at me, may have seen me as a traitor, yet for some reason I felt I could trust him as a friend.

Dimetri gently moved a book from the old box. He sat in the attic with a box of scrolls, books, and little trinkets, all covered in dust. His fingers, just starting to show the very smallest hints of age, brushed off the layers that had settled upon the first book he took out, looking at the cover fondly. It was just a simple binding, no words imprinted on it, yet Dimetri's look hinted to it being his fondest treasure from the past. He sighed and slowly opened to the first page.

Dimetrius Aleksandr E.

"A gift so you may write your heart's feelings and your mind's visions." -Lord Brightsinger

((A backstory to "... In a Far Away Land ..." ))

How foolish I am to tell you this story here.

As you may have guessed, as you may assume correct as I told my last story, I was not born in the place that I am now. As we are now sitting further away from the ears and eyes of those whom could use the information to my disadvantage, I have decided to give you the full truth. You are a boy of an age that is able to understand these sort of things, Lawrence, and will soon be a man with such burdons I believe you will hold as well.

My full name is Dimetrius Aleksandr Epemtheus, as my mother had named me after my father and her mother's family.

(( This is the next part of "Once Upon a Time ..." ))

"In the magical capital city of Dalaran once lived a brother and sister exactly alike in appearance. They both had long auburn hair, gentle green eyes -- nothing like the eyes of many today -- and delicately soft elven skin like the nobles they were. Yes, these were noble elves of Dalaran, born to a powerful and wealthy family.

Just as any twins, you would never see one without the other being close by. They laughed together, played together, sang together, and even loved together. It was true that most people could not tell the difference between the two, but that was only because those people never paid enough attention. There were some telling differences between them.

"Master Dimetri!"

The smile on the boy's face was genuine as he dodged through the blacksmith workshop and toward the six-foot tall elf. The top of his head, covered in a mess of wavy soot-covered hair, met up to the mid of Dimetri's chest when he finally simmered down enough to stop jumping with excitement. Brown eyes, similar to wet walnut wood, looked up to meet the odd-colored eyes of the mage.

"Lawrence, my boy! I do not believe the smithy would be too pleased with your running about when you should be working," Dimetri said with a chuckle as he skimmed the other workers in search for the shop owner. When his elven eyes met that of the human they nodded to each other.

Someone called me 'pretty' today. The word is such a simple word that could be used in so many ways, yet I only have one use for it. My mother was very pretty.

"Moriurya Brightsinger had once been a very different person.

This is my attempt at creating a summary, a personal history, of a life that is not my own. The information collected in these pages have been gathered from resources as intimate as diaries and as public as official files. This journal is my analysis of a subject whom I have vowed my life in servitude to. One thing is for certain, Rya is a facination of mystery."

Part Two: Her Professional Experience

"Moriurya Brightsinger had once been a very different person.

This is my attempt at creating a summary, a personal history, of a life that is not my own. The information collected in these pages have been gathered from resources as intimate as diaries and as public as official files. This journal is my analysis of a subject whom I have vowed my life in servitude to. One thing is for certain, Rya is a facination of mystery."

Page One: Her Name

(( A continue of "Twisting of Sorts" ))

Moriurya flipped through the notes once more; sixty-four pages of wasted parchment on a silly emotional rant of a silly emotional girl. Her mission was flawed, worthless, and no longer applicable. Frustration had left her, all feelings had left her but those of regret. The scenes of the night before danced through her head.

"This is a Legitimate business, lass."
"The business maybe."

( This is a continuation on the "Rya's Treachery" storyline. I have not linked all the ones that belong in it together, sorry! ^_^ )

She had not meant it to take this long; delving into the private lives of your co-workers shouldn't be such a difficult task. No, it was her own fault, her own decisions, that had pushed her goal further from her mind. Buying a few hours to share a bed with a man whom she did not know anything about, testing out her newest gun on the Forsaken deciding to use Southshore as their play land ...

(( Parts One and Two can be found in Journal Entry of Scandalous Thoughts ... which is a horribly named blog. ))

Journal,

Remind me to never expect anything of men; romantics are long gone, in the past, and ancient history. If men are all the same, which they are beginning to look like it, then I might just give up on emotions and become the cat librarian.

The boy, Red, decided to send me roses with a letter attached. The colour in the flower, an orange/coral, conveys desire and is so very much like that of his hair I almost want to burn them and see if they change to the black of death.

Journal Entry #27

There are images in my head that confuse me; I cannot seem to be able to tell if they are real or not. Being pushed against a wall and caressed by the man who I vowed to only have a professional relationship with isn’t something I would deny, but the words whispered in my ear and the response from my own mouth as lips met skin … it just doesn’t make sense to me.

Part of it I know is true; I have the dress hung over my office chair still, seeming to have been so simply discarded. For certain it was not the man of before, but then who was it and why were they here? Dimetri doesn’t want to give me details and my mind says there are more than I can remember.

"You're going ... shopping?" Dimetri's voice is as deep and wonderful as ever, but his tone is like a father's to a daughter who wasn't allowed to go anywhere by herself. "And whom are you shopping for?" Uh, he gets on my nerves!

"Maybe I want to get someone something! Why does it matter? What is wrong with my going shopping?" I ask with annoyance; I am always annoyed with this man, even if he has pledged his life to me. I don't care! He is a womanizer and a complete jerk when no one else is around!