Spontaneous Combustion

Between Marn and Shim, along the Ofriyu Mar river, is a stretch of dense woodland known as the Virdara Woods.
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Abmesh Gwaelei
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Spontaneous Combustion

Post by Abmesh Gwaelei » Sat Jan 09, 2016 3:37 pm

A funny thing about bees: They always gave Abmesh indigestion. What was worse, that indigestion carried over to his human form. It was always unsettling, that feeling of unease in the pit of a belly that wasn't there. Phantom quease had no business mucking about 3 feet below the ground. He took a moment to sort himself out on a patch of dry earth in the shade of a chestnut tree. With a waggling of ears, he shrugged the little hardened-leather pouch off his head and nudged the flap open with his nose. Half the tobacco within spilled out onto the ground, eliciting a sigh of resignation entirely inappropriate for what would turn out to be an accident of incredible significance.

Regardless, it was quickly superseded by his default, philosophical deadpan as he shook a rolling paper loose from beneath his combover so that it landed on his extended lower lip. His tongue snaked out the side of his impossibly wide mouth to scoop tobacco into the paper balanced on his lip. With a gyrating sort of pout, he compressed the tobacco within the paper into a tube, and slid the whole affair into his cheek for sealing. The whole process took less than 5 seconds. Lighting the damn thing, on the other hand...

"Blargh-blasted boobywarts, I've mislaid my matches! What a fellow wouldn't do for a pinch of sulphur! I- oh, my word." This last in response to a burgeoning cherry on the tip of his cigarette. "Spontaneous combustion: The last bastion of mundane scientific theory, solved by wishful thinking, in a sunny glade, by none other than Abmesh Gwaelei! I daresay I deserve a nap for this!"

The thought of a nap put the newly, mysteriously lit cigarette right out of his mind. He leaned his prodigious nape against a smooth root, and let his mouth slide into an abyssal drawl. The mysteriously stoked cherry inched closer to the ground with each sonorous exhalation, until it touched the spilled tobacco, which crisped slowly into pungent smoke. General Wingbucks' no. 3, as it turned out, was an excellent offering by which to gain the favour of the spirit who watched over the chestnut tree. Things were about to get much stranger for Abmesh, the plucky little human head.

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Long Piao Bai
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Re: Spontaneous Combustion

Post by Long Piao Bai » Tue Jan 12, 2016 2:36 am

Within the glade, the little chestnut sprites watched the head with consternation. He was a visitor to the Glade and they were bid to care for it and those who took refuge in it. BUT...

The head had been a frog who had eaten some of their friends.

Then, the frog turned into a Kashira, but only a third of one.

THEN, the head tried to set the Glade on FIRE.

Certain the head was asleep, the chestnut sprites rushed in and stomped out the potential fire hazard.

Several joined hands and teeter tottered around the head, covering it with vines and sweet scented moss. Others sang in tiny, high-pitched voices a gentle lullabye, intending to keep the Kashira asleep until their mistress arrived.

She arrived on the night of the full moon.

Under the pregnant belly of the moon, the glade became a magical and wonderous place. With the fall of moonlight, a veil parted, and the Tea House of the Shining Moon opened for business. Like a paintbrush on a blank canvas drawing out a picture for the eye to see, every place the moonlight touched, more was revealed.

First was the hanging moss, these became silken scarves lifting on the breeze. The intertwined branches of three chestnuts formed the roof of the tea house. Within the glade, stumps covered in Resurrection moss became tables covered in green table cloths. Then, came the visitors. All kinds came to the glade, those with the heads or bodies of animals. Those with one horn or three. All were welcome in the Glade providing they abided by the Lady's rules. When the Lady emerged, all heads turned and all bowed as she greeted them.

The little chestnut sprites served the guests food and beverage. A few lead the lady to the head, left to sleep for a time. The sprites were indignant, chattering at the Lady, but she pressed kisses to their round little forms and they stilled.

"Wake, visitor. Wake," the Lady bid the head to open its eyes.

Abmesh Gwaelei
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Re: Spontaneous Combustion

Post by Abmesh Gwaelei » Sun Jan 17, 2016 10:24 am

The moonbeams in Abmesh's dream took on a phosphorescent quality, their light brushing solid objects and bleeding into and through them like aquarelle daubs. The material world was, in this manner, slowly subsumed by something greater, something more meaningful. Abmesh's own form was no exception: As murmurs of pregnant light glided across his upturned face, he saw the world shrink. The edges of his vision furled gently inwards until everything around him was now before him, ensconced in a bubbling band of probability: All that was, dancing precociously within all that might have been. And beyond, who knew?

Words blossomed in his eye, fully formed, and ripe with new meanings: Omniphanous, possessing the quality of unfiltered passage of all that is, through its being. Acolouthurgy, the acausal creation (of a truth) through its residual effects or afterimage, used to prove the existence of an object by its end-state, or ultimate fate. His forgetfulness, along with other limitations of his conscious mind, were not gone, but irrelevant in this new language of perspective.

The edge of the picture rolled off the right side like whitewater, only to stream in from the left, when Abmesh looked to his left. He experimented with this phenomenon, relishing the ability to capture the entirety of his surroundings within the placid globe of his dream-eye. It was then that he noticed the Lady, looking down at him, always in the centre of the un-frame. ...and was immediately smitten. The words tumbled out in a blathering pile from his pelagic throat.

"Milady, surely this afterlife is too good for such a humble creature as I! Did I take a wrong turn somewhere whilst transcending the moonbeams? But I am getting ahead of myself. I am Abmesh Gwae- No, no, that won't do at all. I am Gwabmesh, clearly. The beginning of the last meets the end of the first, as befits a transubstantiation of this magnitude. Erm- might I ask where I am? My last memory seems to be of a primeval forest whose limbs touched an abyssal sky and entangled themselves with the astral clouds therein, to exchange sweet nothings of serendipitous timespace until the resulting tapestry formed the world as we know it." He sniffled a bit. "Pretty vague, I know."

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Long Piao Bai
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Re: Spontaneous Combustion

Post by Long Piao Bai » Sun Jan 24, 2016 5:53 pm

Time was different here. It may have been an hour or years since Abmesh's eyes had closed. The adoration was obvious to the Lady and she approved. Her hand reached out and stroked over the hair on his head before trailing over the edge of his left ear.

The Lady who bid him wake was no spindly creature. She was luscious and curved, ripe and fecund, with skin as brown and decorated with whorls and lines, like beautiful patterns in bark. Her eyes were the pale green of newly born leaves. Her hair was a dark green, like the leaves of trees in high summer, and was lifted up and falling down in thick locks, like vines and smaller tendrils that framed her face. Moss lay on her skin in a pattern that covered her breasts and traveled down one side to encircle her hips to her thighs. Flowers dotted the moss and fronds that covered her legs, all designed to allow one to imagine what lay beneath without granting one the pleasure of finding out. One could imagine her being worshiped as a Goddess by a simpler kind.


"You, Gwabmesh, are at the Tea house of the Shining Moon."

The Lady's voice was rich, as sweet a the freshest of cherries. Her hand swept the side and a veil was parted and the whole of the glade was his to view.

In the trees, flowers opened and twinkled with an eldritch light. The air shimmered like gossamer silk. At one table, a trio of near transparent blobs wobbled and laughed. At another, what looked like a human, but for its overly large head and single horn, played tiles with another creature, who looked for all the world, like a cow with a human’s body. What might have been a female of some sort, with long hair and a carefully painted mask for a face hung a pot from a cooking stand.

The female turned into triplets, with smooth, pale, bare shoulders and legs peeking from their colorful robes. One tossed a handful of sand into the fire, which roared up and turned colorful. A pleasant, scented smoke filed the clearing. Other creatures continued to move into the clearing until the place was alive with voices, laughter, and song.

A half-human woman, bald with the tattoo of an eagle upon her pate, dozed in the soft curve of springy moss, away from the center of the clearing. A small, white Asian dragon, conversed with one of the Geisha-masked triplets.

Other, similarly dressed, androgynous creatures moved throughout the clearing.

"Enjoy the pleasures the House has to offer, I must greet my other guests for now. I will return to speak with you in due time. A scion of the Silvery River visits this night and I must pay my respects for even one such as I has betters." The Lady smirked and brushed her ,,fingers across Abmesh's cheek. Her other hand made a motion and one of the feminine attendants approached and knelt beside Abmesh. She carried a tea tray full of plates, a pot, and a cup. A pipe, rested on the tray as well. The tray was placed beside Abmesh and a sweet grape was offered to Abmesh to take from the delicate, porcelain fingers of the courtesan.

Abmesh Gwaelei
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Re: Spontaneous Combustion

Post by Abmesh Gwaelei » Fri Feb 12, 2016 8:55 pm

As the Lady drifted on like a sheet of laughing rain across a gently wooded vale, Abmesh's heartstrings were softly plucked from the hallowed silence of her passing, and into renewed song by a new minstrel: the comely courtesan. "And you must be her sister!" No timbre of blasphemy accompanied this flirt; though the Lady was incomparable, her beauty was such a fundamental force that it manifested in graceful notes of poise, wisdom and enchantment in women everywhere, as ripples in the lake of all that was feminine. And right now, this exquisite specimen of feminine poise, wisdom and enchantment was offering him grapes. It would be boorish to refuse...

A thick, purplish tongue, first uncoiling slothfully like a libertine basilisk, osmosed through a dauntingly wide angle of apathetic lips. Suddenly, like some unconsolable drunk, it lashed out, to neatly snatch the proffered morsel into the innermost shrine of Abmesh's improbable palate. Somewhere in that Cyclopean dungeon, forged in the efficient horrors of batrachian mastication, the grape underwent a transfiguration that can only be described as poetic. From within the brutally flayed skin, its pulp glowed with a burst of immaculate creation. Abmesh arched his mouth in alarm, momentarily sending the whitewater frame of his all-vision cascading through a tapestry of stars; a cask of wine upended across the reverently unveiled vellum of a holy scroll.

CRACK

Out shot a bumblebee, borne helplessly upwards on the momentous gust of so prodigious an eructation as to cause a passing hive-mind conglomeration of jellied squirrelbeasts to flop over and shed several of its component creatures in alarm. The embryonic nodes of fur and instinct, bereft of their overmind and struck with panic, began mimicking Abmesh's burp; a hybrid reaction somewhere between distress call and antibody. The cacophony seemed to seep into the brain and impregnate Abmesh's thoughts with a cripplingly uncomfortable miasma of absurdity, neutering his faculty for philosophical ambivalence. His eyes bulged as he looked from the courtesan to the miserable giblets, and back again, and he shouted to her over their crackling drone. "Oh my word, quickly, you must help them! Leave me, my dear, I wouldn't dream of patronising your services any further when such pitiable creatures need you more!"

In the scant three seconds between kneeling beside Abmesh with her tray, and leaping up to the aid of the placenta-slick mess of beady nerve-eyes and flexing mouths, the courtesan's posture had been a series of starts and bafflements, made liquid and sweet by her sangfroid. She would not fully process the encounter for another few minutes at least, at which point her deepest feeling on the matter would be one of renewed admiration for the Lady, for ever and always managing to attract another character to her court.

Abmesh, for his part, felt much better now, and didn't at all notice the fact that several patrons of the grove were looking at him as though he had just fired a Gnomish cannon into the canapé table at a garden party. (Indeed, the volume of his outburst wasn't far from it.) His vision centred lazily upon the pipe left by the courtesan. An exquisite work of diaphanous glass, it folded in upon itself at such angles as to put one in mind of a half-born newt in the throes of a last-minute panic and regret. Limbs of whorl and sparkle, describing wild outward angles, fled thereupon into the central, ovoid body, whose fluster of blue depths was like a map of worlds.

This craftsmanship was lost on Abmesh, who could only think of the cherry that had appeared out of nowhere, a scant sleep ago. "Pipe. Smoke. Light- oh dear. Spontaneous combustion, but- nonono, SPONTANEOUS CREATION! That's it! The bee, just like the tobacco fire, was a spontaneous creation! A recreation, in fact, of earlier culinary happenstance! A burp in time, as it were..."

The bumblebee in question, having flown doggedly back from its unfortunate destination somewhere in the lower stratosphere, had perched itself on Abmesh's tray, as though to listen politely to the head's inane rambling. It was probably the only one.

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Long Piao Bai
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Re: Spontaneous Combustion

Post by Long Piao Bai » Mon May 02, 2016 11:45 pm

Beyond Abmesh's immediate domain, Cai and Piao Bai had entered the Chestnut Grove n the more Mundane Realm of Things. The little dragon had gone about collecting chestnuts and truffles, started a fire, and settled down.

And then the moon rose and veil between the worlds, thinned.

Not long after, the White Dragon sat before the large Chestnut that dominated the clearing and played upon his flute. Pleased with his performance, the Lady emerged and spoke with him, eventually introducing him to the curious creature that was "Gwabmesh."

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