Difference between revisions of "ExhilaratedRosewood/TheImportanceOfNames"

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== Comments ==
 
== Comments ==
 
Hehe.  I like the story.  I would certainly be afraid if somebody shouted out "Periwinkle Fair of Dragons!" at me in combat.  To have such a stupid name, it must have very badass qualities to back it up.  ~[[Overshee]]
 
 
The win...it's too much... - [[Han'ya]]
 

Revision as of 14:18, 15 February 2007

Humble Silence sat drumming his fingers on his desk, enjoying a rare moment of quiet. The past month had been incredibly stressful. First there was the business of the Dragon Blooded monks having trouble with the Wood Dragon Style. He had to admit, that business of souls falling off their owners was an embarrassing mistake, one that was entirely his fault. He had overestimated the strength of their anima. Now that he had refined the charm, it would never happen again. Still, the shame of having caused the deaths of some of the most promising of the first generation Immaculate monks was one he would have trouble living down.

Even more embarrassingly, he had let the stress get to him enough to give a snide comment to that egotistical control freak Kejak. Age wise, Kejak barely even outranked him. It irked him mightily that Kejak had so much influence over him. Nearly a full month of almost nothing but rescuing cats from trees was wearing him down. He would have to do his best not to make Kejak angry in the future, if only to avoid the retaliation. Not that he had a problem with rescuing cats from trees in principle. It just got boring when it was all you did. One of the most important duties a Sidereal could perform or not, he needed variety in his life.

He stifled a yawn as a knock came at his door. Irritation marred his brow at the sight of the spirit who entered. As one of the foremost creators of martial arts styles alive, Humble Silence often had to endure visits from members of the Auspicious Office of Martial Arts. His close ties to them didn't make him like any of them though, particularly his current visitor: Enk-Malar, Director of Proper Naming Conventions for Combat Methodologies. She always found some flaw in his submitted lists. The last style he had developed, she had complained, contained too many "Methodologies" and not enough "Techniques" or "Approaches". It was a stark contrast to the style before, where she had berated him for not using the phrase once in a charm name.

Given how he had nearly thrown an ink well through her forehead, he was impressed she had the nerve to visit in person. Really, he honestly had been loosing his temper too much lately he mused. This time he wouldn't have a problem he silently swore to himself. She wasn't going to get under his skin again.

Adopting a forced smile, he gestured warmly for her to come in. "Yes, how can I help you?"

Barely taking her eyes off the list in front of her, she spoke in a dreamy tone, as if only half paying attention. "Yes, well, I was looking this over. Very nice I must admit. I particularly like the last charm, very clever... But there is definitely an issue with the name of the style itself..."

With great willpower, Humble Silence forced himself to maintain the smile. "Oh? I rather liked it. Clever, works with the theme, all that. At the other end, you know, we have 'Five Dragons Fight as One.' I've always been fond of the name, very nicely sums up the style. See, you adopt aspects of all five dragons into yourself as you fight."

He caught himself as he realized what he was explaining to whom. He did have a habit of lecturing inappropriately like this. It was almost as embarrassing as the issue of loosing his temper. Trying to tell a god about her own jurisdiction was incredibly presumptuous though, even for a Sidereal of his stature. Delicately, he continued.

"Anyway, I felt that 'One Dragon Fights as Five' would sum up this one nicely, since the user simultaneously embraces all five dragons in an independent manner and attacks with the furry of all of them." He coughed slightly, He wasn't sure why, but she always managed to make him feel awkward.

"Yes, yes... I will admit, its an interesting play on the first one, but still.. This is a Secret Style you're trying to create, not some random Terrestrial dabbling. We have to have standards for these. In fact, we do have standards for these, as you well know." Her tone changed to a well rehearsed lecture tone, as she chanted "Color, Collective Noun, of Passive Noun."

In an exasperated tone, she added "Really, you ought to be able to do better than this by now. Would it kill you to submit a list I could just check off at some point?"

Humble Silence sat still. Between his clenched teeth he managed to push out his words, one at a time "Well. Do. You. Have. A. Better. Idea?"

She sighed. "Oh I don't know, thinking of them in the first place isn't my job. What about something like 'Periwinkle Fair of Dragons?' It may lack pizazz, but it gets the idea across." She chewed on the end of her quill for a moment. "Really, I'm not sure what would be a good color myself. I mean... they are all different colors." She shrugged. "Like I said though, thinking of names is your job. I just enforce the rules."

A still filled the office. With a look at Humble Silence's face, Enk-Malar slowly began to edge back to the door. Finally words broke the silence, slow and deliberate.

"If you ever show face in my office again, I will personally throw you down from the Heavens and use your Starsteel to make myself a new powerbow, if its the last thing I do before the auditors catch me and send me on to my new incarnation."

Enk-Malar gulped slightly. With a flash of essence, she fled the room as a teacup flew through the space where her head had been only moments before. As it shattered on the far wall, Humble Silence sighed.

"So much for that promise. Maybe I just need a sabbatical."


Enk-Malar sighed as she leaned against the pillar outside Humble Silence's office. She knew when he had fits like this, he never left the room for at least an hour. A faint smile brushed her lips. He was thinking of new martial arts, she could feel it. He always came up with the best ideas when he was angry like this. She knew it was a childish delusion, but she always felt deep down that each new style he developed was a confession of love to her. Briefly, fantasies passed through her mind, of the two of them in bed, him whispering new, properly named charms into her ear. The thought sent shivers down her spine.

With one last, wistful sigh, she pulled herself together. Gently she struck out 'One Dragon Fights as Five' from the scroll, and gracefully traced out the words 'Periwinkle Fair of Dragons.' He never bothered to argue names with her once she had submitted them formally. She mused on that slowly. Maybe it was a sign that he really did love her, after all.

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