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| Agrippa | |||||||||
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| Tweet Topic Started: Tue Sep 1, 2015 9:41 pm (108 Views) | |||||||||
| Agrippa | Tue Sep 1, 2015 9:41 pm Post #1 | ||||||||
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Is it but a simple beggar or something more? That is a common question for Agrippa. But a better one is: man or woman? Smooth skin and toned muscles adorn the soft, tanned flesh of the lone traveler you now face upon the road. That staff is but an elongated shoot of bamboo; it glistens with the rain that falls upon it, as does the conical cap concealing the stranger’s features. The attire with which the stranger is adorned is little more than what a mere peasant would wear, the gray poncho and dark-brown cotton breeches ragged but somehow holding together against the stranger’s perpetually stormy surroundings despite their threadbare state. Those feet…they are bare, trekking across the water-soaked mud and through the puddles that have formed in the road’s many shallow pits, yet they somehow remain clean despite traversing the world unprotected. Despite the lack of foot-coverings and rain that pelts the ground so hard, the individual doesn’t so much as shiver. There is no demand given, no fear shown. Only a simple request is made: “Let me pass.” The voice of this stranger is soft not only in tone but in something else as well. It sounds almost like the voice of a girl, although the almost whispered words present difficulty in making that distinction. The voice is certainly effeminate. There is no malice or desire in it, no emotion at all; there is only that simple request for passage. You see no scars or wounds upon the stranger, no rough skin at all. For all intents and purposes, the stranger’s flesh would suggest that it is either a young boy or girl or a woman of any young age, even perhaps into the twenties; yet the stranger is the size of an adult, or perhaps a young adult, of indeterminate sex. There seems to be no visible cleavage, nothing that sticks out at all, and the clothes render such a determination difficult anyway. Even the feet are neither large nor rough enough to be clearly masculine nor tiny and perfect the way a woman’s are often assumed to be. Despite the stranger’s simplicity, there is something in the stance the stranger takes that makes you uncomfortable. It is as though there is something hidden about the stranger, not dark but certainly mysterious. It’s not the stranger’s sex, though. Does the stranger hold some power that you have yet to identify, or is the stranger’s simplicity merely putting you on guard? After all, few people dare travel the roads alone these days, yet this humble stranger does so without so much as glancing to one side or the other. The stranger doesn’t even peer over the shoulder at what might be following. Perhaps it is merely the storm addling your own mind. You decide to let the stranger pass, for what harm could such a random act of kindness possibly bring? You can’t help but wonder about the stranger, yet neither can you deny the feeling that it is certainly a wise decision to let the stranger pass. After all, you’re not entirely certain that this random encounter is one during which you would wish to stain the ground red. Sometimes, it is perhaps better to let fate run its course…
Edited by Agrippa, Thu Sep 3, 2015 6:37 pm.
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8:47 AM Jul 11

