Post by max on Mar 4, 2010 20:26:58 GMT 10
Title: Passages
Rating: PG
Length: 241
Competitor: Faleron
Round/Fight: 2/A
Summary: Because Kel isn’t bookish, she’s numberish.
…
It is a well-known fact – at least among those who know her – that Keladry of Mindelan, although clever, doesn’t read very much at all.
Her mind has been honed into being able to flicker through arithmetic and strategy like lightning, but literary references slide over her as water over oh so impassive wax. Her (miniscule) bookshelf is made up entirely of the histories and works of the greatest generals and battles of the last thousand years (which, if pressed, she will admit to having read from cover to cover) but it is beyond even so tender a soul as him to find romance in descriptions of battle formations and battalion sizes and the positions of cavalry on hillsides that have long eroded away.
It makes wooing her a challenge.
Because she is so extraordinary, because she doesn’t seem to care about her looks, or anyone else’s, he can’t appeal to her beauty. Because she doesn’t read what he does, they can’t share books or phrases. He grew up in Tortall, she in Yaman. She prefers polearms, while archery is always his first choice. She eats very little fruit, but he devours apples whole. When it comes right down to it, they have very little in common at all.
Nonetheless it is there, inside him. Despite their separate squirehoods and worlds and experiences, there remain red threads linking him to her.
Which no passages of writing or oceans or time could destroy.
Rating: PG
Length: 241
Competitor: Faleron
Round/Fight: 2/A
Summary: Because Kel isn’t bookish, she’s numberish.
…
It is a well-known fact – at least among those who know her – that Keladry of Mindelan, although clever, doesn’t read very much at all.
Her mind has been honed into being able to flicker through arithmetic and strategy like lightning, but literary references slide over her as water over oh so impassive wax. Her (miniscule) bookshelf is made up entirely of the histories and works of the greatest generals and battles of the last thousand years (which, if pressed, she will admit to having read from cover to cover) but it is beyond even so tender a soul as him to find romance in descriptions of battle formations and battalion sizes and the positions of cavalry on hillsides that have long eroded away.
It makes wooing her a challenge.
Because she is so extraordinary, because she doesn’t seem to care about her looks, or anyone else’s, he can’t appeal to her beauty. Because she doesn’t read what he does, they can’t share books or phrases. He grew up in Tortall, she in Yaman. She prefers polearms, while archery is always his first choice. She eats very little fruit, but he devours apples whole. When it comes right down to it, they have very little in common at all.
Nonetheless it is there, inside him. Despite their separate squirehoods and worlds and experiences, there remain red threads linking him to her.
Which no passages of writing or oceans or time could destroy.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!