Pahn

monstrous
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. One post per week
  3. Slow As Molasses
Online Availability
Anytime, I have no life.
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
  3. Douche
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Nonbinary
  3. Transgender
  4. Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
Fantasy, romance, slice of life, anti-hero stories, "you're our only hope", fandom non-canons, soft scifi, transhumanism, magical girls, horror, suspense / mystery, detective noir, fractured fairytales
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A silly fairytale roleplay between @firejay1 and @Pahn
 
"This should do nicely." Lars Derturm finished braiding a strand of hair, tying it with a nice silk ribbon. He wasn't sure where it had come from exactly, but that didn't matter to him. It was a deep purple with small filaments of gold; a beautiful contrast with his pale blonde hair. It had taken him most of the day to braid this single strand, for his hair was extremely long and he wanted it to be perfect. After all, such a glorious mane deserved nothing if not perfection and the best care he could provide for it. Washing it and then oiling it was a whole other story, sometimes it took him two whole days without sleep to achieve it -- but again, it was entirely worth it. Lars had never once in his life cut his hair, and the girl who lived with him had long through out any sharp objects that could be used as shears anyway.

The sun was setting when Lars finally sat on the windowsill of the only window in the tower. On his lap was an embroidery project; he wanted to make the most beautiful handkerchief he had ever seen, but it often resulted with him accidentally picking his fingers and soiling his clothes with blood droplets. Nevertheless, he had no plans on giving up on such a noble project. Without giving it any further thought, the young man began humming a beautiful tune, a lullaby which he had long forgotten the words to, but remembered the rhythm to. His eyes set on his work and without losing a minute of the remaining sunlight, Lars worked away on his embroidery design without another care in the world.
 
Elsbeth Furstin was passing through new territory. It was scary being so far from home, in some ways, but she couldn't stop the need to keep running. The farther she got, the farther away she was from her past, from the life that she was supposed to have and the responsibilities she had never wanted. With the sun setting, Elsbeth looked for a place to make camp for the night, knowing, as every good traveler knew, that the roads were even more dangerous in the dark, there were enough troubles with them in the day.

As was her custom, she left subtle markers as to her direction back, and left the main road, seeking shelter in the cover of the woods. This, to her knowledge, was an uninhabited stretch of forest, so it was much to her surprise that she caught the faint strains of music, someone humming somewhere. Caution told her now was not the time to be getting involved with potentially dangerous folk (who knew, it might even be a bandit village), but her curiosity got the better of her, and the princess began to follow the sounds until they became crisp and clear. The melody was beautiful. Finally, Elsbeth brushed away a strange curtain of almost-concealing ivy and found herself in a clearing with a single stone tower. She stared at it in awe and confusion. There were no other buildings around for miles. Who could possibly be living in this tower? Taking a couple almost nervous steps closer, it came to her attention that there were no doors to this tower, either. At least, none that she could see just yet. There was just a window, up at the top, which she could see if she squinted. Was there someone there?

"Hello?" She called out. "Uhm... does anybody live here?" Stupid, stupid question, the person up there must have been the source of the humming, of course someone lived there.
 
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Lars nearly fell off the window seat, but his hand caught the the opened drapes. Heart pounding and blood rushing to his face, the young man jumped to his feet and hid out of sight. There's someone who is not Gothel out there... What?! There were never any visitors, for the tower was deep in the middle of the woods. Various plants in fact covered most of the tower, with only the upper part clear of moss and vines due to the wind and rain.

His throat felt tight and Lars wasn't sure if he could even reply to the question. It was a feminine voice, he knew this much. The accent and tone were definitely different from Gothel's, but having only heard his own voice and Gothel's it was rightfully a cause to freak out. His eyes darted to the multiple candles that were lit in the room. There was no way they wouldn't notice the light from down there. Even the blindest of fools would notice the warm flicker. Taking a shaky breath, Lars dropped down to sit by the window, not quite look out yet but resolved to acknowledge the lady who had spoken.

"Ye... YES, I live here. WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DO YOU WANT?" He gasped at his own outburst, slightly embarrassed by the accusing tone he had unwittingly taken. Shaking his head, Lars hid his face in his hands, praying that the person would just leave him alone.
 
Elsbeth instinctively bristled at the tone. "Hey! There's no need for that." It wasn't like she'd ATTACKED the tower, she had just wanted to know what kind of person would be singing out here in the middle of nowhere, living in a building trying its hardest to pass itself off as a tree. Maybe it was a hermit. The longer she thought about it, the more that seemed to make sense to her. Definitely a hermit. "My name is uh... El. I was looking for a place to make camp for the night and came across your..... house thing, here. How do you even get in and out of this thing?" Moving a little closer, she poked the plant-covered side of the tower gingerly, as if it might sprout a mouth and eat her if she touched it wrong.
 
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"Go... Go out? No, no I think you misunderstand... El." Lars realized he was now turned towards the window and on his knees, peeking out and down at the lady. It was too far to make out anything useful, and the growing darkness was already engulfing the ground. However, her tone seemed to indicate like she was as surprised as he was by this situation. Relaxing a little bit, Lars cleared his throat and rubbed his forehead. Gothel wasn't due back for a few more days, she didn't need to know that he had helped a stranger for one night. Despite never leaving his tower, Lars knew the woods were dangerous at night, and he could not in good conscience leave the lady out there.

"I... I will help you up. But you must leave all arms and weapons at the bottom of the tower. If you have armor, leave it as well... Otherwise I will not be able to bring you up." A deep breath later, Lars passed his hair through a heavy metal hook that was attached to the top of the window sill. Carefully but efficiently, with the confidence of someone who had done this hundreds of times, the young man looped the lower part of his hair and took a firm grip at his scalp. "Okay... You can come up now. Just... Don't put your dirty boots on my hair! I just washed it and it is pristine."
 
"Misunder-" El's voice died in her throat, unable to even formulate the sentence her thoughts were trying to make. What was he even trying to say? How do you MISUNDERSTAND the concept of going outside? His next few sentences confused her even more. In fact, she wasn't sure she'd ever had a conversation with anyone more confusing than this. "Wait, help me-?" Before she could finish that sentence either, something came tumbling from the window of the tower. She stared. And stared. "This is-" running her hands through the length in front of her, Elsbeth asked with some awe, "Is this hair? Woah." It took her a bit to process what she was looking at, but curiosity still driving her, she shed her armor, weapons and boots, stashing them in what looked to be a good hiding spot before twining her hands firmly into the strands in front of her. "UHM. I'm ready..?" She called up to the tower. What in the world had she just stumbled across?
 
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"O-okay, hold on tight now." Lars took a deep breath and did as he always did with Gothel. The lady appeared to be lighter than her though, so that was a relief as he began pulling his magnificent hair. It took only a couple of minutes before he could see the shape of wild hair.

Inhale, exhale, it's going to be fine. With one last tug, Lars pulled the lady fully inside the tower and the impact sent him flailing on his backside. Hoping she hadn't noticed the disgraceful fall, the young man was back up on his feet, and visibly debating whether he should greet her or if he should stay back. "I'm Lars. You can use the bed over there. I have food... If you're hungry..." Lars trailed off and wrung his hands behind his back, resisting with all his might from gathering his hair and making sure it was still clean.
 
Elsbeth awkwardly stepped onto the window sill, releasing the man's hair and causing him to fall on his rump momentarily. She stared at him, barely hearing what he had said. She felt oddly bare with neither armor nor shoes. "Wait a second. I'm grateful that you want to give me shelter and everything, but what are you doing up in a tower with no idea of 'going outside'? You look kinda young to be a hermit and what is with all this hair?" The hair was the important part. She stepped uneasily away from it.
 
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As soon as the girl stepped away from his hair, Lars worked quickly to bring it all back in a neat puddle by his feet. She was so different from Gothel, this... El. Much younger, she seemed about his age. Not that he was any good at guessing, he had never seen anyone else other than his caretaker. Swallowing the ball of stress in his throat, Lars idly combed his fingers through the long blond hair. "My hair, it's quite beautiful, isn't it? In summer I hang it out the window to dry with the sun and it gets this shimmering look to..." Stopping himself from rambling more, Lars grimaced awkwardly in an attempt to smile. "I just... Don't like going outside. I have everything I need here, why would I risk my life going out there?! Thieves and cutthroats and madmen..." A flash of fear crossed his face and he lowered his eyes again.
 
At first El was tempted to tell him that she hadn't been COMPLIMENTING his hair, in fact it was her opinion that it was rather ridiculous, but there were too many ridiculous things in what he was saying for her to stick with one. "You... don't like going outside? Or you can't?" She asked, her tone sharper than she'd meant it to be. She swallowed. "That is, how do you know the world is full of "thieves and backstabbers and madmen" if you've never ventured outside? In fact, how do you know I'M not a thief or madman? You let a random woman in with no explanation, but you won't go outside because strangers might be dangerous." Her tone was a mix of perplexed and skeptical. Some part of her stung, seeing someone like this. They had the option to go... and they didn't. Obsessed with something silly like hair when there was the whole world waiting for them.
 
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Lars could only frown at El and turned away from her, his teeth grinding together. So what if he never left? Why was she all over his business? He had been kind enough to invite her inside and there she was being a pain in the ass! The boy took a deep breath and made he way to a cupboard, taking out some cups and leaves.

"How do you take your tea?" He refused to look at her still but he wasn't going to let this minor discomfort stop him from showing some manners. Whenever Gothel got home, she always wanted a cup of tea or two to relax, so he had assumed the young lady wanted something similar. "There's goat milk and sugared honeycombs..." While Lars waited for her answer, he put a heavy iron-cast water boiler over the flames of the fireplace.

"What's a girl like you doing out there anyway?" Lars peeked over his shoulder and eyed the stranger he had invited in his home.
 
Somewhat to her surprise, the man who had called himself Lars did not respond to her. He simply turned away, scowling. It was as good as confirmation. What was his problem? She let out a tight breath of disbelief, before slumping down awkwardly on the ground, a little worried she was too dirty for the furniture. "I'm... not fond of tea." It was an activity she'd been forced to attend during her short stay at the palace, when she had usually avoided it during her younger years. Besides, tea required money. Water was better when she could get it. Still. It was warm, and the growing dark was not. "If you must, I don't take it with anything. Just straight."

She placed her chin lightly atop her fist, her elbow propped up against one leg. El gave the man's back an evaluative stare. Goat milk and sugared honeycombs. Was he a sheltered, rich kid? After she'd left the protection of her highborn life, she'd discovered that these things were luxuries. Goat's milk less than cow milk, but honeycombs were not easy to obtain unless you either had money or your own hive, or both. She rubbed her hands uncomfortably, feeling the soft skin with its rather fresh callouses. Her lips pressed together into a tight white line as Lars asked what she was doing, but she didn't flinch. She'd been asked before. Women with swords instead of baskets got raised eyebrows often enough. "Traveling. Looking for work-" or drunk easy targets to fleece at a gambling tavern in the next town over "what most people do out there. Life is good like that." Her voice held a note of bitterness in it. "Better than being trapped behind stone walls like these." She gestured around the walls of the tower. She didn't ask the question burning in her mind of why he'd never wanted to leave. She gave him a sharp-toothed grin. "You are right. It is more dangerous, though, if that sort of thing worries you so much."

When she'd first grabbed onto his hair she'd been a bit concerned that she hadn't been able to bring some of her weapons, but the more she looked at this guy, the more convinced she became that she could probably beat him up if he tried anything fishy with her. She ran her own hand through her tousled, wiry ginger hair, unthinkingly.
 
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"Hmm, is that so." Lars could feel the tone of the lady's voice change and he didn't miss the jab at his situation. This petulant girl didn't know anything about him or why he remained here, and yet there she was judging him and making comments about his lifestyle. Not to mention that this was the first person other than Gothel he had ever seen in flesh or spoken to. El sounded like a brat and an ungrateful one at that. "Believe it or not, I like it here. It's safe and no one wants to cause me any harm."

Lars threw her a pointed look over his shoulder and turned back to the task at hand. The tea was entirely made by him. The various plants hanging around the place provided delicious options for both cold and hot beverages. The young man selected some herbs and a flower petal and placed them in a small clothed pouch, which he then placed over a teapot. He remained silent until the water was done boiling and poured it slowly in the pot. The smell was absolutely divine to him, flowery and earthy without being overwhelming, with a touch of bitterness that Gothel usually didn't enjoy. But it was his personal favourite and he was curious how El would enjoy it. Not that her opinion mattered, in any case; it was simple and healthy curiosity.
 
"Oh, I believe it." El muttered, half to herself. She had been watching him the whole time and caught the look he cast her, but just raised her eyebrows in defiant response. I mean, there hadn't been any question about whether or not he liked being where he was, that much was abundantly clear, she thought. She still thought it was stupid. How could you say whether or not you liked it when you'd lived there your entire life?

When he handed her the tea, she gave it a curious little sniff - a habit her father had HATED - and then took a long draft of it. Yep. Tea really wasn't her thing, beyond being a slightly more flavorful improvement on water. It was a little bitter, which she did like, but the rest of it too... groundy. Almost sweet and a little leafy. She didn't dislike it, but she couldn't say she liked it either. Her face didn't change much, beyond the slight shrug of her lips, but she issued an obligatory, "Thanks," before setting the cup on the ground. She looked up at him, then back out the window she'd come. The sun had set and the night was growing truly dark, now. "I'd ask why you were looking at me like you've never seen another human before, but I'm guessing it's because you haven't." She didn't look at him when she said that, and her voice was flat. Not angry, but as if it didn't really matter to her, and she was just saying it to say something. "You're an odd one. Afraid enough not to leave, but brave enough to let a stranger in. Then again, I am a woman, and we're not supposed to be much good at taking care of ourselves." She chuckled and closed her eyes, back still pressing up against the wall, pulling her crossed legs up casually to her chest. She didn't feel bitter about the assessment she thought he had made of her. It had used to offend her when other people and her foster brothers thought she was just a weak girl who couldn't do anything, but then everyone had switched to thinking she could do something like rule a kingdom and she discovered she'd rather have people undervalue her than believe in her.

Her body didn't relax much, but she felt her closed eyelids pulling heavily down, telling her, along with other little things, how grateful she was to be out of her armor, and how tiring the day had been. She'd soon fall asleep if he didn't catch her attention again.
 
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The girl's expression was impossible to read, much to his annoyance. He pursed his lips and took a sip of his own cup, a low sigh of pleasure escaping. He absolutely loved this tea.

As they both sat in silence for a few minutes, Lars watched the sun set through the single window. Gothel was going to be here in a few days, he was looking forward to it. His mouth twitched and he frowned at himself. Of course he was looking forward to it! Why was he suddenly feeling that little sprout of dread in the back of his mind? Where was this coming from?

His thoughts were interrupted by El's nagging again. For a girl who didn't care and looked so blase, she certainly commented a lot on his life. "I have seen another human before!" Lars was slightly taken aback by the detached comment that followed. He finished the rest of his tea before continuing.

"That's silly. Do people really think women can't look after themselves? I let you in because you looked like you needed some place to sleep..." With a small pout, Lars sighed and gathered a bunch of his hair. A minute later, he tossed a feather pillow and a patchwork blanket at the girl. "It's not quite a bed but at least you won't get too sore. Wake me up if you want to leave in the morning, please don't try leaving without my help! I don't want a dead body at the bottom of my tower..."
 
She heard his protestations, but registered them with nothing more than mild surprise. She wrapped herself lightly in the blanket and laid down right there on the floor next to the wall. It was comfortable enough for her. More comfortable than usual, in fact, because she didn't have to be sleeping in her armor with her weapons. The princess wasn't so sure why he was helping her at all when it was evident he didn't like her, and quite frankly she wasn't too sure she liked him either, but she supposed a place to sleep was a place to sleep. "You sing beautifully," she muttered once, before giggling to herself and adding, "sissy." Then she dropped asleep for good.

She woke up the next day bright and early, a little before the sun had risen, when the mist was still hanging in the air. It was when she usually woke up, to clean up any tracers of her campsite and move on the next day. She checked around the room for signs of life, but was surprised to find her host still asleep. Weren't hermits supposedly early risers? For a moment, she was tempted to kick him off the bed, but she opted instead for maneuvering around his excessive hair and yanking the blankets off of him roughly and piling them in a heap where he couldn't grab them easily. "Good morning. You want breakfast?" She took a peek in his pantry and started cooking a very, very conservative meal for herself, not taking any more than she absolutely needed to get her through to lunch. It made more sense than forcing him to get her down the tower and setting up a campfire she didn't have ready just to make food. She wasn't some sort of chef or housewife, but she knew how to make herself a little food. "I'll leave as soon as I'm done and you'll never have to see me again." She said, almost cheerfully.
 
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Lars woke up earlier than usual, and for a long groggy moment he forgot he'd invited a stranger in his tower. A girl, at that. The sight of her first thing in the morning was odd and he wanted to close his eyes until she disappeared, but memories from the night before resurfaced and he remembered he'd told her he would get her down from here.

"Bre... breakfaaaaaa-" The young man yawned loudly and stretched his limbs. A few joints popped and a shiver ran over his body from the sudden cold air. The girl was already up and about in the small kitchen, eggs and lard on toast scents filling the air. Lars could feel his stomach grumble, begging for that nice smelling food. "This smells so good... I should go for simpler food sometimes."

The boy got up and rubbed his eyes, going to the stone sink at the other side of the room. Gothel had fixed a water supply, either by magic or some kind of scientific method, and it allowed him to have fresh water at any time. He pushed up the pump and washed his face with the cold water; he already felt a bit more awake. "Where will you go?"
 
"I should go for simpler food sometimes" begged the question what did he usually eat for breakfast or did he even eat breakfast at all? El eyes him skeptically, but only for a brief moment. She hadn't noticed the water before, so that was a rather... interesting feature. Water to bathe in wasn't all that easy to obtain without hiking over to the closest well or having a servant do it for you. Magical? Or maybe he was just a rich kid with invisible servants. She decided she didn't care, though she did make him breakfast with her own.

She shrugged at him as he asked her where she was planning to go. "There's a large town a three day's walk from here. I should find some good work there for a short while, be able to sell a little of what I can hunt on the way. I don't like to stay anywhere very long. What about you? What do you do up here all day?" Her tone was lighter as she kept her attention on the food she was cooking. She was feeling less confused and startled, and had just had a good night's sleep, so her mood was a little better than it had been the night before.
 
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The boy began combing through his hair as he watched El make food. It was a rather odd thing, to have someone else make his food; even when Gothel was here, he made sure to be cooking for both of them for as long as he remembered. He may have looked pampered, but he did all the up-keeping of the room and knew how to sow, knit, crochet, and all other typically lady-like crafts.

"Why's that? Is there someone hunting for you?" Lars asked, with a note of worry in his voice. The girl was being strangely nice, and he was finding himself enjoying her company. How odd. "Me? If you look around, you'll see how upkept the place is. That's all me. I also have to take the time to brush my hair and make sure it stays nice, Gothel likes it tha--" He stopped himself and blushed a deep red. He hadn't intended to speak of her! Now this El girl would ask a bunch of questions he wasn't sure he wanted to answer..."Thankyouforthefood."