Nyloh could feel curious eyes watching him from over the back of the couch as he carefully stirred the pancake batter. He did his best to keep his lips straight together, to not smile. He enjoyed the faint warmth of her gaze as he moved about the kitchen and didn't want her to think he had noticed.
He turned with the bowl toward the stove and poured a little slowly into the pan, already heated and waiting. With his back turned, he finally let a grin curl across his face. How long had it been since he last had pancakes? Too long. He used to always make it, especially for his family, but it slowly became a rarity when it was just himself.
But he could think of nothing better to share with the little sprite that was now staying with him. His mind tried to wander, worrying about what she would have had to eat before; how there ever could have been enough. He had to push that away for now. His attention was best spent focused on the pan. He knew his pancake recipe by heart after all these years, but he was still a bit out of practice.
Leaning over to watch as the batter bubbled in the middle and settled towards the edges, he was careful not to leave them there too long. Flipping the pancake quickly, he breathed a sigh of relief at the golden color it greeted him with. He wasn't so out of practice after all.
He did his best to stay focused, to ensure the rest of the batch came out as well, but he couldn't help but glance back, watching as Mith rearranged the pillows on the into today's special arrangement. He was never sure if there was a pattern to how she moved the different sized and colored pillows, but it was seemingly never the same. Chuckling softly, he pulled his attention back to the stove briefly for another flip.
Lots of little things would move around in the apartment over time. Sometimes the plants around the apartment would be shuffled around. Sometimes the books would be stacked differently. Whatever it was, he enjoyed the way it made the apartment feel alive, even if sometimes he would have no idea where something was.
Scooping the last pancake onto a plate, he looked over to her once more. There was a light she had brought to the entire place and he was never sure how to thank her for it. Hopefully a warm and fluffy breakfast would suffice.
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A Mithy and a Nyloh together, for heigh comparison. He thinks she’s cute, but definitely ridiculous. Standin there with paint all over her, seriously...who does that?
This is Nyloh. He’s my lovely musician child from original story Starfallen. I made some clothing for him, because I wanted to. This is his tentative full body model. I’m not very good at ‘em yet, but I tried. :D
He mains guitar, but is adept at piano, too, and likely percussion (I can’t play percussion or guitar. I’m a pianist/fluterdejuter, so writing that will be fun. )
One of these is a throwback to his first design, waaaaaaaaaaay back when he was runnin around in the Megaman X fandom. xD I have a weakness for headbands.
A bit of an experiment, as I’ve not written anything quite like this in a while. 1118 words.
Nyloh stood still at yet another almost-familiar intersection and just sighed. No matter how many times he had walked between home, jobs, and gigs, somehow there was always a new corner of Xaliber to see. Tonight, however, new was the last thing he wanted to see. He just wanted to find The Mockingbird and enjoy a little music before the lateness of the night completely drained him.
The confusion of everything around him seeming both new and like he had been there before was frustrating. He had tried one shortcut and now it felt as if he had stumbled into another city entirely. After backtracking proved helpless, he stood for a long moment and tried to ignore the buzzing in his head in the hopes that he might gain a sense of exactly where he was.
He was sure that he had gone through this very same square not more than twenty minutes before, but it had still been bustling and full of life. The sun had only finished setting half an hour before, with many still out and about, enjoying food and conversation before returning home now that their work hours had finished.
Now, the food carts were shuttered and every shop nearby looked at if it had been closed for at least a week. It was all so drab and cold. There was no way he had looped around. It must have been a different square that just felt the same as the other, even despite the folding sign out front of one cafe that still said the same message about today's special.
He shuddered, trying to shake the feeling of dust collecting on his shoulders as autumn leaves rolled down the street beside him. The staleness alarmed him. Even as the fallen colors moved, there seemed to be no wind; nothing to energize the corner but a soft creak from a loose shutter.
Taking a seat on a bench nearby, his eyes couldn't help but follow the leaves and scan the street. The one streetlight illuminating it held steady, but was dim. The light wasn't enough to reach some of the far corners of the square, casting long shadows over storefronts and behind carts. The familiarity of his surroundings did nothing but unnerve him. It was all just right enough that he could feel that something was wrong about it.
His eyes instinctively searched all the sources of light. Several dim shop signs flickered in windows. Some second-story apartments over them had their lights on, however dull through their curtains or blinds, even though they showed little signs of life within. He tried to rest where he sat, but all he could do was search.
The darkness didn't bother him. The tightness in his back did. The lingering chill as if something was watching him. He kept trying to find what or where, but the more he did, the darker the square began to feel. He shifted his guitar case to his other shoulder and got back to his feet. Staying here seemed like a bad idea.
As soon as he is up, his eyes catch motion from a nearby doorway. A light flickered from within and he thought he had seen someone duck back inside. Perhaps they were watching him for some reason, but he saw no other sign that someone was there.
Lost or not, he needed to move on. He wouldn't find his way sitting here anyway. He let his feet move by sheer memory, hoping he would find himself back on the path he had memorized. By instinct, he turns down a wide alleyway and is greeted by a parade of soft lights; strings hung between windows above, casting everything with a soft glow. This he recognized.
He let out of long, relieved breath. It all felt so much more welcoming, the lingering warmth of everyone who would have been seated at the tables lining the corridor dispelling the chill down his spine. The two restaurants on either side that shared the alley loved to use it for outdoor seating. The first table to his left even had some fresh flowers in a vase to welcome any patrons.
He walked slowly through, taking in the feeling of it all and enjoying the lingering scent of dishes from earlier in the day. Halfway through the alley, things change. The chill returns. At first it feels like an errant breeze, caught through the corridor and pushing against his back, but nothing moves. The lights flicker, but do not sway. Nothing disturbs them as their glow fades in and out.
The sound of wood behind him makes him turn. A chair had scraped against pavement. He was sure of it. His eyes caught something move past the alley in the building across, as if a figure had stepped out of the window. He grunted at the thought. That wasn't likely. The building had been condemned a year ago.
Before he can turn back to walk the rest of the way, he sees the table. The vase is overturned and the flowers seem parched. The had been so vibrant just moments ago. And when had it fallen? It was glass. Surely he would have heard it tip over.
The buzzing in his ears had returned. He felt as if he was standing by a radio tuned to silence, catching nothing but the occasional bit of static. He turned and pushed onward to the other end of the alley. He wasn't far from The Mockingbird. He was done with his imagination playing with him.
As he walked, he began to hear steps behind him. An echo, surely. But the timing was off. He varied his pace, but the sound kept the same steady rhythm, almost shuffling as it followed. The strings of lights flickered again and he couldn't bear it any longer.
He took off in a run, exiting the alley and quickly taking a left. Ahead, he saw the first stirs of life as other people stood outside the familiar gray walls of The Mockingbird. He was there.
Doing his best to look as natural as possible jogging the rest of the way to the door, he didn't dare look back until he was just steps away from the entrance. The soft glow of the lights in the alley was gone, and all he could see was a door slowly shut itself with no signs of light inside.
His hands clutched the strap of his guitar case, tapping nervously at the leather. He needed to play something, anything. To make some music and let out the tension that had built in all of his muscles. A song is exactly what his world needed right now.
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Two concept sketches hammered out before bed of my beloved musician character, Nyloh <3 He plays guitar and piano, and probably others. He composes and dreams of performing on stage, although the idea gives him quite a bit of anxiety. He loves dogs and has an appreciation for art, and his favorite way to unwind is to curl up with some blankets and a hot cup of (anything, I guess) and watch the rain. He’s still figuring out what kind of performing musician he would even become -- something more modern and electric, or traditional/acoustic. He struggles with self-worth because of an upbringing that lacked a lot of things, and even though he has a pretty good idea of how to be an adult, he never really became comfortable with it. He loves people and wants to be something of an altruist, but at the same time, he can easily become disillusioned with humanity as a whole. He has a wish to find a reason to keep believing in people.
He’s one of two main characters for a story I’ve been working on a little at a time called Starfallen. I’m toying with his design, and I love him.
Not WoW, not fandom. This is my original story I’m writing, called Starfallen ! Very sleepy writing, so forgive me if it’s scattered. xD The important thing is to write your 400 no matter what! (”I only counted 399 words, wizard...”) *smacked*
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He drew his fingers over the rough concrete. The surface was smooth beneath the curved upper ring, but rough and weather-worn where sun and rain had scoured away its protections. Instead of stagnant water, the basin held a vast array of plants. Tender new growth swayed in the delicate breeze, and dead vines curled their way up the tiered spouts in the center. It looked like it hadn't been touched in ages. It made him smile that such a mysterious, forgotten thing could still be beautiful. That entire side of the city was like that -- a forgotten, dilapidated treasure that still had its charms.
Shifting the guitar case strapped to his back, Nyloh took a seat atop the wide rim of the fountain. He let the black case down gently upon the busted cobblestone. He avoided the weeds struggling to wind their way through the rocks as an act of mercy for a land that rarely saw any. The park had been left untended for years, and although he once knew how many, Nyloh had by then forgotten.
He ran his fingers through his hair, letting the long strands fall carelessly over his shoulders. The air was fresh and sweet, and still carried the morning chill. It didn't smell like asphault and car exhaust the way the highways did. Gradually, he settled into an anticipated calm. The worries of the night before fluttered away with the wind, granting him that sacred moment of peace he'd been chasing all week. Finally.
If only he didn't have that gig later. It gnawed at him, even as he sat in relative tranquility. He needed to practice a few more times.
The latches on the guitar case opened with a short click. His anxiety faded away completely as the smooth, polished neck of the guitar met his hands. He took it upon his knee and laid his fingers over the strings, quickly working through the songs he'd play that night. They were all completely unsatisfying. His playing was mechanical at best, and just...nothing worked.
He breathed a deep sigh. Something different was needed.
His fingers moved into position. The strings began to resonate with a song he hadn't played in awhile. It was soft, and soothing; not too many notes, no frantic strumming, just a simple melody and its accompanyment. A cool morning breeze picked up his hair. He let himself hum the main line as he fell deeper into the song, and slowly began mouthing the words. Vivid sunlight cradled his form, offering an answer to the morning chill; it was welcomed not only by him.
The song drew to a close. When Nyloh opened his eyes, shades of violet stared back at him. They peered out from behind broken glass walls, slender fingers curled around the ornate metal frame of an abandoned greenhouse just across the courtyard from where he sat. Blonde, very nearly white hair cascaded down around her face in wide waves, feathering out to catch the wind just past her shoulders. A ghost of a girl stared back at him, and it froze him in place.
She disappeared as quickly as she had come, back into the shadows farther into the greenhouse. Nyloh sat still, counting the beats of his heart. What had he just seen? Was she real, or some lost phantom, just lonely enough to make herself known to him for a brief moment? He slowly put his guitar away.
He didn't know why, but he chased after her. The guitar case was hoisted back across his shoulder, and his feet moved him forward. He'd seen the greenhouse on his way in, but hadn't thought to check it. Vines covered most of it as well. They converged at the top of a large circular dome, but unlike the fountain's vines, these were lively and green. The weather had been quite cool that year, and that delayed the plants. It was a surprise to see such greenery on the outside of the greenhouse...
Out of the cold, misty air, the warmth of the apartment greeted them both. As thankful as they were to no longer be constantly pelted by the rain, they finally had a chance to feel just how soaked they were. Wet hair drooped into eyes, clothes clung in odd directions, and shoes squished and squeaked. It all felt so ridiculous. Another taste of her lips and he couldn't bring himself to care.
Without ever letting go, he kicked his shoes off and helped her take off hers. He didn't want to let her down for a second on the chance he might miss a single of the butterfly kisses she was leaving on his neck. She sent goosebumps all over his body, tugging at him again as she felt him shake. She couldn't help but press a smile into him.
Standing there with her in his arms, both of them dripping to the floor, the sound of the was storm so oddly soothing but it could do nothing to douse the sparks. The girl in his arms drove him wild and he didn't want that to stop. A grin curled across his face as he found himself unable to resist taking a moment to tickle the bottoms of her feet. She tried to pull away from his touch, but she couldn't get any distance, unable to bear for a second the thought of letting him go. All she could do was laugh and bury her face in his chest.
That laugh. I brought a rush of color to the room around him and made his heart melt. It warmed the entire room and left him unable to resist laughing with her. The last shiver he felt shoot through his wet clothes was gone. He forgot what legs were and was brought down to his knees. His fingers dappled her thighs as he pulled her into his lap and chased her neck in return.
A soft exhale betrayed her and let fly a purr. Her face instantly flushed as she felt him pause. He moved to chase that spot, but she didn't let him, messily tangling slender fingers in his hair and bringing his eyes to hers. She defiantly kissed him again, pulling him until she had brought them both down onto the rug, her lips refusing to give him a break.
The room spun around both of them, their heads a tangled haze of wanting and searching. They were intoxicated by each other, reduced to fumbling at every spot they could reach, starving for each other.
Nyloh finally had to retreat, unable to last another moment without air. He froze still as he leaned over her, the sight of her striking him like lightning. His mind screamed at him for only just now realizing how little she was wearing and for dragging her into the cold in it. She was only wearing that shirt that was far too big for her and a short, simple skirt. A shiver crawled over him, leaving a pang of guilt. She was completely soaked through, the shirt clinging to every curve, plastered to her body with the still fresh rain.
His hands drifted to her sides, his fingers idle with hesitation. His mind drifted over her body, over the light curves that he didn't want to admit noticing. He was captured by her, by the way the drenched fabric clung to her, by how he could see her body through the soaked garment. His face went red as he watched her breasts rise and fall with every breath.
For a moment, he felt lost, clueless about where to start. He wanted every inch of her. His fingers moved before the rest of him could catch up, grabbing the bottom of the shirt and pulling it up. His flushed cheeks pulled his lips up into a sly grin as he dove in under her shirt, hands first.
A surprised yelp melted into a giggle as his hands slid over her, spreading warmth from her stomach further up her chest until finally stopping at her breasts. His lips were right behind, barely able to decide what part of her to tease next. He nearly would have forgotten to breath, so lost in his eagerness to caress her, had her tiny gasps not reminded him.
Kissing her stomach and running his nose against her skin, he treasured every excited shake and every shortened breath. It made him only want her more and drew him in further. Her belly leapt as his lips found her sides and his fingers continued to wander and squeeze. More kisses and teases. He playfully waved his lips over her stomach, making sounds as if he was trying to devour her.
"I'm gonna eat you, Mithy!" He bobbed his head back and forth under her shirt, continuing to pretend to make good on his threat. He peered up at her through the huge collar of the shirt, delighted at the flushed cheeks and bright pink-purple eyes that stared back at him.
She gasped, pulling the shirt down by its sides and trapping him over her belly. "But I'm not food!"
He pulled himself out from under her shirt, grinning widely at her. His gray eyes flashing as he secretly took hold of the bottom of her shirt. "Then why are you so tasty?" He didn't give her a chance to answer, pulling her shirt off over her head. The spacious garment slid off with ease.
Mith gaped at him as he tossed the shirt aside. Cold air tried to rush over her, but his hands were faster. His touch was soft, but eager, shielding her from the draft. He couldn't pull away from her. She wanted to pull him closer, to use him to cover her bare skin and steal all his warmth, but her own eagerness took over.
She climbed into his lap and grabbed at the front of his shirt. Her fingers went right to work, expertly undoing each button on the way down. Her breaths were short, betraying her anticipation. But that last button. She struggled with it. It was somehow caught on itself and refusing to budge. Her face turned red as she scowled at the simple object that dared to stand between her and the closeness she sought.
Her patience ran out. The button would not stop her. She pushed his shirt all the way up his chest past his shoulders and into his face. She couldn't wait a second longer to touch him.
Nyloh's stomach leapt as her fingers followed the subtle patterns of his chest like they were some kind of map. Up from his abs, curving over to his ribs, climbing up to his pecs before falling back down again. Traveling his torso as if searching, she couldn't keep her hands from drifting back to his abs, every dip capturing her curiosity. She suddenly felt greedy, wanting to know and feel more but feeling something stopping her. Her hands stopped, as if suddenly lost. She wasn't sure if she wanted to tease him or steal his idea and try to eat him.
His hands returned to her, asking her to continue. She couldn't resist. They melted into a mess of giggles and kisses, impishly fondling each other, wandering.
