Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 14, 2013 18:28:52 GMT -8
May 3th at 12:32PM It was with her eyes focused forward and her heart calmed that Korra entered her small work space in a park near the Natural history museum. After recently receiving a commission to sculpt a statue for the walk way leading through the park to the museum itself, Korra found herself arriving at the spot a few minutes late but not enough to get herself in trouble.
Despite the spring weather, Korra still wore her robe like hoodie to protect her skin from the light drizzle of rain that was falling around her moistening her hair that was exposed and uncovered by her hood. A small duffle bag slung over her shoulder carrying her tools that clashed together whenever she took a step, her expression indifferent and disinterested as always as if frozen like the statues she carved and chiseled. She stopped in front of the large stone that would be her material to carve a glorious statue of a hardened soldier.
Her eyes sliding around the work space slowly taking everything in with a critical gaze, the block of stone itself was pristine and white, a lovely condition for shaping stone, there was a tarp for her to catch the excess stone debris from her carving, along with a small guard rope to keep outsiders from coming too close to her while she worked.
It was a well crafted work space for something out doors, even if it didn't take a lot of time to set up, the consideration she felt in their effort was comforting at least, though the warmth in her heart didn't crack her empty facial expression in the slightest.
After making her assessment and finding the area to be satisfactory, Korra finally mustered a meek smile. Before getting started, she reached up to unzip her hoodie sliding it off of her shoulders delicately little by little before sliding it into her duffle bag to protect it from being soaked by the drizzle. Raising her arms to feel the rain splashing off her she heaved a relieved sigh, wearing only a bikini top and shorts underneath her hoodie, the drops splashed off smooth pale skin running down her stomach and back from her arms as it fell from the sky.
She held that awkward pose for quite a while not caring if anyone saw her striking a pose in public. Catching the rain with her body she closed her eyes to try and envision the statue waiting for her within the materials, approaching the roughly carved block slowly with her raised arms pressing herself against it for a moment while she considered the possibilities. Her client requested something brave and heroic, but beyond that left the details up to Korra giving her a lot to play with but at the same time it made her brain storming chaotic. Something brave and heroic wasn't her typical style, she had to find a way to fit despair or sorrow into it to truly make it a "Harlequin" piece, one of HER pieces.
After a moment of feeling out the materials, inspiration finally struck her causing her eyes to open once more. Guiding her back to her tools she rummaged through her bag for her basic tools, chisel, hammer, small step ladder so she could stand over the large statue. Setting the ladder up with the flick of an arm as if she'd done it millions of times in the past, she climbed up it with a few delicate and controlled steps.
With a delicate graceful twirl of the hammer while she set the chisel in place, all it took was a smooth swing to cleave away the first chunk of stone...
Piece by piece, she cleaved sections away from the roughly stone with delicate swings. Slowly piece by piece, the silhouette of a person began to take form with an enlarged back while Korra worked. Her expression still stoic, empty and indifferent, lacking any emotion while she poured it into her work with vibrant blue eyes focused on the stone.
Only occasionally, while she worked, she began glancing up between swings to see if she was earning an audience with her strokes.... |
|
|
|
Post by ELENA J. ANDERSON on Sept 15, 2013 14:56:04 GMT -8
A day at the park should have been more exciting. But as refreshing as a light rain was in the middle of spring, for Elena it was anything but. Most rain, short of a thunderstorm, made her drowsy. It forced her to park her cop car at the edge of the park so that she could manage her rounds of the area on foot while she waited for any summons over the radio. She sighed as she reached over her head, tugging a navy blue poncho hood up and over her face to keep the rain out. The typical details of her police uniform were somewhat masked by the opaque quality to the plastic material, but as she slid out of her car door and traveled around to her partner, Brooklyn’s, side, her brow rose in mild surprise. His tail was sweeping back in forth and a joyful, almost eager, whine spilled out of the german shepherd’s dark face and strong muzzle; his eyes twinkled with a characteristic smile, and after sitting politely while she managed his harness and a jacket that would also shield him from the rain (not to mention help to avoid any wet dog smell), he practically vaulted out of the car and into the open, slightly thick air of the rainy spring day.
Good for you, Elena thought, only partially impressed. His muzzle stuck out from the dark hood of his own black jacket, tongue lolling between his white teeth and his tail arced high. At first he behaved perfectly rationally, as a disciplined police dog should, eying the grand park in front of them, curious about the people that passed by, wrapped up in their own light jackets or holding their small umbrellas. His nose twitched with life as he dipped his head and sniffed the fresh grass.
Only to promptly play around, splish-splash, in all of the puddles forming around the police car. Some weren’t even inches deep, but the big dog almost happily pounced on them.
All of them.
It made her smile, gave her a bit of energy to go on. “You big puppy. C’mon,” she urged. His feet were soaked and the rain drizzled his dark coat, but Brooklyn didn’t seem to mind one bit as Elena gathered the important things and went about her business, leaving their solemn looking car far behind. Admittedly, Brooklyn sobered quickly after spending more than fifteen minutes out in the drizzling rain with nothing else to do but track his feet through wet grass and damp earth—which in some places began to turn a little muddy. Both of them eventually made their way to an unexpected work in progress, hovering just outside the cordoned area. Brooklyn sat back on his haunches and yawned as Elena observed, finally drawn to say something.
“I’d heard they commissioned something interesting out here,” she said, half called, to catch the artist’s attention. “But they failed to mention what.” There was a necessary pause as Elena glanced over the work one more time, already meticulous in its smooth lines, before she added, “Officer Anderson. Canine Unit,” she offered by way of greeting. “You work fast, Ms….?” She trailed, expecting of course, a name. Beside her, Brooklyn twisted around and attempted to nip at his lower back, completely uninterested in this conversation.
WORDS!:554 TAG!: Korra NOTES!:Yay a post! |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 15, 2013 15:50:49 GMT -8
By the time the officer had come, the statue was taking some silhouette of a person. Standing up tall with an enlarged back, likely to be shaped into something else as time went on. Korra's hands working quickly over the materials, oblivious to the rain cascading off her. Working on some of the finer details in the head, Korra had been crafting the head into hood little by little, like a flowing fabric that would cloak the figure, curves and wrinkles in the fabric being smoothed over with sandpaper rather then risking a large chunk being carved out with a chisel. By the time the officer spoke, Korra was already crafting a mask into the upper portions of the person's face covering their eyes with a faceless mask.
"Quinn... Korra H. Quinn..."
She introduced herself, her hands pausing long enough for her vividly blue eyes to slide to the corner of her face to catch Elena in her line of sight. Giving her a cursory glance as if measuring her body with a slow up and down look, by the time Korra got back up to Elena's face, her hands started moving again sculpting Elena's jaw-line into the warrior she was crafting. Though the upper portions of the face were covered by a mask, Korra carefully crafted the jawline and lips borrowing Elena's shape while she scanned over the officer letting her hands work while her eyes critiqued her looks.
"It's nice to meet you Officer... Though I wouldn't say I work fast... I was commissioned to craft a soldier's statue here and I'm sure there's a message that soldier wants to spread to the world as quickly as possible... Would you like to help me?..."
She spoke though despite her question, her facial expression didn't change remaining stoic and seemingly indifferent, her analytic eyes didn't stray too far from Elena's face while she worked. Even her voice was monotonous and didn't have in it any change in pitch or tone but still, she continued.
With the jawline coming to form, Korra began making the silhouette more petite and feminine though the back remained as enlarged as it was previously. Finally turning her head back to the soldier she was sculpting in question she gave it a similar cursory glance she gave Elena before a meek smile of approval touched her lips as if she'd solved an issue she'd been mulling over.
"I don't want to drag you away from your own work or obligations but... It could be fun maybe?..."
She asked turning her attention back towards Elena with a meek smile though it was the most she could muster as a pleasant and comforting expression, even that much was a struggle for her to really wear while she went back and forth between her tools.
|
|
|
|
Post by ELENA J. ANDERSON on Sept 15, 2013 16:19:06 GMT -8
Elena offered the young woman, Korra, she said her name was, the same, mild fascination she revealed to Brooklyn when the german shepherd proved to be all too gung-ho to jump out of the safety of the warm car, and into the rain. A temporary flash of interest shined in her eyes, but faded quickly. "Oh?" she said thoughtfully. "How so?" It was difficult for Elena to reason keeping off of patrol for too long, but she had also had the foresight enough to bring her comm radio with her, in case an important call came in that required her immediate attention. She supposed lingering here for a little while would not hurt things, but on the off chance there might be trouble, she would also be quick to leave. The artist might not like that much, particularly if the kind of help she was interested in involved quite a bit of time. Elena considered mentioning that fact, though she suspected it was apparent enough. The young woman seemed to have enough common sense about her, anyway. "I'm afraid if you're looking for an artist's touch, I don't have it." She smiled weakly. Again, she felt the tug of drowsiness from the incessant drizzle of the rain and the gloomy sky overhead. "My idea of a good piece of art is a stick figure." Again she hesitated, observing the continual actions and motions Korra made over her work; how confidently she influenced sections of the statue with little-to-no second thought. Clearly, she was practiced. And very talented. There wasn't a shot in hell Elena could keep up with that pace or offer much help--unless said help consisted of butchering every scrap of progress made. Korra was young too, perhaps not even in her early twenties, yet, here she was. The young woman might as well have been an experienced and learned artist, the way she looked back and forward so effortlessly, her hands moving as if they had a mind of their own, or already understood what she wanted and set out to make it happen.
Elena tensed a little, uncertain. She could tell Korra kept glancing back at her, then at the work, but what for?
"I would say you underestimate your own skill," Elena said carefully. There was a certain vigor and diligence in the way she deftly handled her art, whether she denied it or not, and she seemed to be making fantastic time. "I had a friend in college who would spend days contemplating the angle of a single line, determined to make it perfect, or poetic, if you will. You put his toiling to shame; you seem to know exactly what angles you want. I admire the confidence. But again," she shrugged helplessly, snorting under her breath. "My hands are more likely to botch or hinder the progress you've made. Unless you were looking for a different sort of help?"
Meanwhile, Brooklyn seemed more fascinated by a bug in the grass, his dark, snuffling nose upturning a helpless beetle as his tail swished back and forth behind him.
WORDS!:514 TAG!: Korra NOTES!:TEXT |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 15, 2013 17:06:41 GMT -8
Taking the time to hear Elena out, Korra didn't stop working even while she listened to her. Finalizing the head and jawline, Korra took a few seconds to admire the soldier's gritted teeth and desperate expression before continuing. Turning her attention upward, she continued fine tuning the fabric in the cowl like hood while listening to Elena's opinions about her own ability to help, it made Korra exhale a chuckle at the very thought of a stick figure while she continued. Finalizing the cowl soon after the head, Korra's eyes found their way back to Elena while she began sculpting the neck and collar blending the cowl into the outfit and fashioning ancient armors into a feminine chest.
"I wouldn't say underestimating... I maintain a realistic assessment of my own ability... I wouldn't do something like asking you to shape it with me... That wouldn't be right for an artist... Though there is some romanticism in that kind of gesture maybe..."
Korra considered wondering if things would have been different if she asked her parents to sculpt with her, wondering if someone she loves someday would want to try to make something with her even if they weren't talented or felt unworthy like she did when she was a child. Of course it wouldn't stop her from enjoying the experience, Korra at heart felt that something like that could be fun even if it wasn't productive, but as her eyes slid back to the statue she pushed the irrelevant concerns from her head and continued.
As the armor began taking shape, Korra continued taking occasional glances towards Elena, much sharper, more sudden glances then before while she worked. With each glance, Korra would add another imperfection to the armor, ruin another detail as she went weathering it, wearing it down in places, sculpting in a bullet hole into the armor's side, a thin knife wound nicking the side, wear and tare with each glance more evidence of rogh encounters were added to the armor with swings of her hand.
"The help I need... Is more like 'inspiration'... You have good posture... Smooth features... Diligent eyes... Stern attitude and perhaps a subtle flare... Though don't get me wrong... I feel I can understand your friend... Where he may find poetry in every line, I look for a story that can be told... The sculpture captures only one moment in a creature that likely lived an experienced life... It would be crude not to create something that told even those past stories..."
Korra explained glancing from Elena to the german shephard eagerly enjoying a bug's company, her analytical eye slid over the dog's form as the enlarged back of her soldier slowly began to transform into paws at each shoulder with details of the hood's cloak beneath them.
Back tracking every once in a while to make sure every detail was fine, that every tare in the cloak and every worn piece in the armor was finely detailed and carried a potential hidden story or secret truth about the feminine soldier carrying something on it's back.
"Even this soldier... I'm sure her story will be similar to the tales of the 'Nephilim'..."
Korra commented taking a subtle pause, long enough to look Elena's way wondering if she understood what she was talking about.
"Would you like to know the story of the 'Nephilim' warriors?..."
|
|
|
|
Post by ELENA J. ANDERSON on Sept 15, 2013 17:39:08 GMT -8
The Nephilim. The name sounded familiar. Elena blinked, looking away and mouthing it momentarily, tasting the word and how it rolled off the tongue. She suspected it had a history at least, in literature, simply because she recognized it. When she was not on duty as a cop, that was Elena's secret passion: the written word collected in books. One day, maybe, when she retired or some ill fate befell her and made her unable to commit to the K9 Unit anymore, she would delve more thoroughly into that passion. As it was, she had to settle for sneaking reads in free time and studying the composition, the elements, of literature in quick but unsatisfactory depth. Her dogs and her job simply required more attention. For an instant a familiarity flashed through her mind though and seemed to reflect back into her eyes. The trick had worked, as least a little. Testing the word on her tongue had brought back a flicker of a memory. The Nephilim: the most infamous of its definitions debated somewhat infrequently by religion, but technically speaking, it had something to do with the children of god, but in more common literature, and even in media, the Nephilim were more readily interpreted as the children of fallen angels, cursed to suffering and eternal separation from mankind. Doubts were cast all around, though it was no secret that many writers had taken advantage of the verse the Nephilim originated from. Unfortunately, she couldn't remember anything beyond that. She certainly couldn't recall mention of warriors, only monstrosities and abominations came to mind, their "curse" the very fact that they were born.
"I think I would, actually," she finally admitted. Her smile had returned, and for an instant the rain and the subtle gloom in the sky didn't seem to matter or hang over her so readily. Elena liked a good story, no matter where it was coming from. "I know the Nephilim to be biblical in nature, or at least based around religion in some form or fashion. Writers have used them in fiction to illustrate spiritual purity, unrecognized by mortal men because their eyes see only the physical form they take, which is broken, ugly, or even terrifying. But I know the religious definition is much different. But I've never heard of any warriors." Elena paused. "Is that what you're making here?" she asked, nodding toward the statue. "A Nephilim?"
Elena could tell that Korra had a fine eye for which direction she wanted this statue to take, but Elena was still attempting to work it out. Particularly what it was toting on its hunched back. "I'll tell you what," she said, her eyes flashing, "I can provide you with inspiration. In exchange for that story. That at least, seems reasonable."
WORDS!:464 TAG!: Korra NOTES!:I still remember an x-files episode based around the Nephilim. xD |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 15, 2013 18:44:09 GMT -8
Korra continued polishing details of the statue while Elena mulled over the 'Nephilim' word. When she finally decided to hear the story explaining what she knew about the creatures, Korra stopped working long enough to nod her head giving Elena a small smile pleased that she was so knowledgeable.
"That's right... The children of fallen angels... The sons of Gods and daughters of man... These are the 'Nephilim'... Originating from Hebrew culture the word 'Nphl': Fall, that can be expanded to 'The Fallen' or 'Ones who have Fallen'... Equivalent in that language to the word 'paqid': 'One who is appointed' or 'One who is bound'..."
Korra explained before returning to her work with a meek smile in thought, her eyes half lidding as she browsed her memory, her family's artifacts for what she remembered of the Nephilim and the various branches that she would draw this story from while she worked adding more of Elena's figure into the soldlier she was crafting while she continued working details into the cloak.
"The 'Nephilim'... Or, more specifically, the 'Nephilim' I'm referring to are in fact the men born from the ones you know... The children born from children of the gods... Grandchildren of the angels so to speak... There are a great many of these people throughout history and across many genres and cultures... Men such as Hercules and Achilles... Siegfried and Perseus... Susano'o and Odysseus... Cleopatra and Helen can all be interpreted as these kinds of children... 'Men of renown' and 'Women who's beauty can destroy reason'... While men could not properly understand their shape, it did not prevent them from taking human wives... And thus men with the qualities and charisma, with sacred ancestry come into existence..."
Korra explained taking the time to pause when Elena asked if Korra was sculpting a Nephilim warrior. She took a few moments to step back from her work, giving it a cursory glance. It was a woman, that much was clear from how much Korra was finished with, gritting her teeth and struggling through a few wounds Korra had already carved into the statue. It was carrying a mysterious burden on it's back who's paws were draped over the shoulders and wore a mask keeping everything above it's mouth hidden from view.
Even incomplete, it displayed a vivid sense of struggle and desperation, though Korra was only partly done telling the statue's story. She brought a hand to her chin in thought for a few moments, her eyes still half lidded while she glanced over her work continuing the story.
"That's right... This one I am carving is a 'Nephilim' warrior... What I believe the 'Last Nephilim' will look like..."
She said in thought before stepping back in to continue.
"As with every one of them... While their efforts to blend with mortals... Their struggles to become one of us... Bleed with us and grow together with us their struggles always end in tragedy... Despite their overwhelming power and awe-inspiring beauty, even with all of their efforts and struggling their hopes and dreams are always destined for failure... The more they try to fit in and blend... The more they try to become one of us by doing what we do, the more their perfection sets them apart... The more their sacred ancestry shows in their ability to outshine us in every event and situation... And the harder they try, the more they fail..."
Korra began to explain the tragic fate that befell every Nephilim with such a holy or unholy bloodline. It brought a faint frown to her face as she considered it, continuing with her story.
"The 'Nephilim'... Even though they are the stronger, faster and better creatures are oppressed by 'normality'... In every day and age those who 'shine too brightly' are those who are shut down... A lot can be said for the fact that they keep trying... That every legend from ancient to modern times about the 'Nephilim' involves them making an effort to become more like mortals despite their superiority... So desperate to fit in... To find a place they can belong only to burn out under the weight of their own greatness..."
Korra stopped with a blank expression reaching back to squeeze some of the water out of her twin tails while she watched Elena's reactions to her story with a meek smile.
"They are creatures that remind us and tell the tale of fate's cruelty... Of destiny's oppressive 'normality'... But even knowing that their lives will end in tragedy... Knowing that their efforts will be in vain... Knowing that not even the children of angels can throw off the chains of fate... They struggle... Fight and pray... Claw their way through the mud and spend their lives reaching for that slim chance that they will be welcomed as we are... To be with us just like their ancestors the Fallen struggle to be with the Chosen... To defy fate in hopes of acceptance on the other side..."
She said giving a small nod before considering the possibilities herself.
"All it would take is a simple validation... A few simple heart felt words from us to them to tare off those chains and welcome them as mortals... I wonder why we chose to raise them up as legends rather then let them have their peace..."
|
|
|
|
Post by ELENA J. ANDERSON on Sept 16, 2013 11:10:11 GMT -8
"Because they are not normal," Elena said simply.
She stiffened under the weight of this conversation; a vivaciousness entered her eyes, and beside her, Brooklyn was lying down, his gaze gently darting from her, his master, to Korra and her unconventional warrior. While his dark ears pricked and swiveled at their conversation, he could not understand their words, but in spite of this, he gave them both rapt attention, and this perhaps, mirrored his owner's subtle enthusiasm. Whatever Korra's intentions, the process was fascinating, and the statue in question was taking on an interesting femininity. Elena was, whether she admitted it or not, nonetheless impressed as well. There was more depth, more of a philosophical nature in this young artist than she expected, and it was refreshing. Many artists had to be, yes, in Elena's scarce experience. It was their business to have something to say, to point out truths in the human nature and life that were often otherwise overlooked or muffled by societal constraints, but to be so young, so talented, and already contemplating those subjects...it was unique. Particularly the calm and wondrous way in which Korra stated things. As the rain dripped casually across her poncho, Elena felt as if she might have temporarily switched places with Brooklyn. Her mind fired with the possibilities of an interesting discussion, and though the rain typically put her to sleep, it felt, suddenly, as if energy were trickling in, and the drowsiness was slipping away. Brooklyn eventually lay his head on his paws, content to wait, but not half as exhilarated with the park anymore.
"Though, I would argue whether or not they have achieved their peace, fictional or otherwise," Elena said. "I believe they have, that their legends are no longer about them." Elena tilted her head, examining the statue again. "For example, great heroes and villains in our mythologies, archetypes and folklore, gods, demons, or the children of both, doesn't matter; our culture stories often say more about us as mortals than they do about the special characters and people that drive them. We exaggerate characteristics and actions for the sake of saying something--for serving some greater purpose--whether that means bolstering the valuable attributes of an individual or forcibly altering their journey to seem somehow harrowing, fraught with challenges and temptations that are nothing more than metaphors for our own personal demons and sins. If Nephilim once existed, their true hearts and stories must have been so twisted and gnarled by the average human beings that they do not belong to them anymore. That is, the characters we assume them to be, might not be. Perhaps then, they really have achieved rest."
Her smile grew. Elena liked this conversation.
"You of course also face the argument of whether or not such power deserves to fade into the background of a society that possesses none. The unusual is noticed primarily because it is what it is: the unusual. If we were to allow such things to fade into nonexistence and simply assimilate them into the norm, it would not only rob the world of wonder, but stifle our own sense of self preservation." She paused, glancing at the statue again. "Your Nephilim will warrant attention as well. Simply because it is...unexpected. But it is not a bad thing. It gives people a moment to pause and think because it stands out so much."
Elena snorted. "I still have no idea what it's carrying around on its back. Or burdened with," she said thoughtfully, "if it is indeed, a true Nephilim."
WORDS!:549 TAG!: Korra NOTES!: Playing around with Elena's abilities now. |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 16, 2013 12:48:17 GMT -8
At Elena's simple response, Korra gave a nod of confirmation slowly stepping down from her small step ladder. Of course she agreed, if nothing else their tales were told because of the abnormalities and they continued to be told because of their stories were inspiring, whether exaggerated or not they gave birth to great dreams and paved the way for others to grow in their wake. Even while their struggles may have ended in vain for themselves, their stories helped to drive others to succeed where they could not in more ways then one.
Moving the ladder to the back of the statue, Korra set it back up with a small smile, giving a second nod to Elena's continuation. Glad that the officer seemed to be enthused about the sculpture's story and the thought process Korra was putting into it, she cocked her head to the side looking once more to the enlarged back slowly letting it take shape as she began working on it. The burden on it's back slowly becoming smaller in size until a small head could be taken form, with ears pointed, snout visible a silhouette could be seen taken shape as the paws were connected to legs.
"That's absolutely right... In regards to the 'Nephilim' who are the minority and more often then not the defeated... Their stories are easily corrupted as the victors write and plot out history as they please but this troubling fact remains... If our heros are not who we believe them to be... If the 'Nephilim' don't exist... Can the fantastical feats they accomplish be possible for any man?... Could any one person truly rise up above the others to such a legendary status?... Or worse yet... If the 'Nephilim' did indeed exist and to this day walk among us... Should we fear them for their uniqueness?... Keep them at an arm's length because we cannot understand their powers?... Forsake the ones who only want to stay by our side because they are not 'One of Us'?... Who would welcome such 'Monstrous Beings' into our world... And if they don't exist... Who would truly accept one who has risen up to such a status... To where would they go once they've revealed themselves whether they have the blood of angels or not..."
Korra commented as the back of the burden slowly took shape, with thick pillars protruding outwards, she began sanding them down little by little while she spoke. One by one each of the many pillars took the shape of an arrow, each perfection in the burden took the shape of a bullet hole or stab wound. The creature on the warrior's back resembling a wolf as time went by, wounded beyond the point of being able to carry itself, was being carried by the warrior instead.
"But... Back to this particular story at hand... Yes... The story of 'The Last Nephilim'... Whether they exist as the descendants of angels or not, it is unlikely they'll find their home among mankind after reaching such a status... Driven out by those who do not understand them... Feared and awed by the mortals who have watched them grow to such a status only to perch them on a pedestal upon which no other man can reach them... From where will 'The Last Nephilim' find companionship if there are no others like them... If they are indeed the last of their kind..."
Korra explained, her eyes sliding down to the dog beside Elena with a meek smile, Sculpting the burden on the Nephilim's back, sculpting the wolf using Brooklyn as a template, she used some of his features to craft the wounded animal the warrior was struggling to carry.
"I believe they will find companionship in the shape of one who cannot recognize those boundary lines... That only through gentle and unknowing creatures can they truly come back... Because in spite of their awesome power, ability, speed or potential... Just like us... If they find companionship in the shape of an animal, then it may very well be that animal that allows them to move from that perch and be 'normal'... To them we are no different from the 'Nephilim', to them... Everyone is equal... Everyone is--"
Korra had to stop, mid sentence, mid carve as she began detailing each arrow's butt. Though the feathers on the end looked realistic, as if a gentle breeze was allowing them to stay in the air, Korra looked down to find that she'd broken off one of the arrow's shafts.
Hesitating only a fraction of a second at the broken piece she held in her hand, she had to re-evaluate her condition. Was she tired? Growing weaker? She hadn't been working that long but she'd made something of a critical error in her sculpture by snapping off one of the arrows that had been shot into the wolf on the warrior's back. Thinking about it a moment, it was difficult for Korra to properly assess the reason why, she felt a little more tired then usual perhaps, there wasn't quite as much strength in her hands as there was moments ago. It was puzzling, but at the same time, it caused her to suddenly cock her head.
Her indifferent and stoic visage cracking only a fraction as she let out a meek chuckle...
"Everyone is the same..."
She finally added finishing her previous sentence as she chuckled a bit more turning her eyes from the broken piece back to the back of the statue. Certainly, she had broken off a key component in one of the arrows, she felt vaguely weaker then before, but despair wasn't something she was un-used to, misfortune wasn't something that would slow her down. Rather, the weaker she felt in her limbs, the more her meek chuckle began to develop some vague pitch and tone. Her motions less robotic, the more it effected her, she became more fluid, relaxed and at home.
"That's right. I like to think it will earn some attention too... That it will make people think about the ones who stand on top of those pedestals."
She explained suddenly snapping off other occasional arrow butts, mis-shaping some of the feathers carving off some of the down from them to make them look more worn and weathered, as if the arrows themselves had also been worn down from the wolf's fight. To tell the tale of how the wolf came to be in such a place that the warrior was forced to carry it. Her actions becoming swifter and more precise even while the strength in her hands she was used to was off set from the norm, she merely adjusted herself and continued with more precision and fluidity turning her error into a more heart rending story.
"Of course, the animal themselves would protect their companion. Even one who is gifted and unique... Who could compete with hundreds of us, thousands of us normal people. Protecting even one who had the power to devastate the world, the animal would fight to protect them from harm... But the animal, unlike the 'Nephilim' is not gifted. They likely be hurt... Wounded or bashed... It is inevitable that when someone so gifted finds something precious to them it will come under fire by those who cannot compete with the warrior directly but even so."
Korra commented as she finished the arrows turning her attention to the head of the wolf, adjusting it's face and ears, lowering them down into a more docile position, an apologetic expression, as if it felt like it was weighing it's master down, as if it just wanted to play a part in it's companion's struggles. Korra added more depth to the animal's face until even it's eyes seemed to tell the tale of wanting so strongly to continue and grow stronger to support the warrior in the future that it refused to die from only that many arrows, bullet and stab wounds.
Taking the time to step back from the statue to absorb it in total, from the waist up, it looked relatively complete though she would have to touch it up later certainly. 'The Last Nephilim' warrior carrying it's wounded animal companion somewhere, struggling with her own wounds desperately fighting against her own fatigue to take even a few steps further to try and bring her friend away from the chaos of a battle field they were fleeing. Heaving out a breath, Korra let one arm drop to gather her strength back after the error was fixed and the wolf's head was finalized. Her eyes turning towards Elena slowly, She surpressed the meak chuckles she was letting out and pulled the reigns in on her expression that had been contorting letting it become stoic once more.
Giving it some thought, she raised a hand softly petting the head of the wolf she carved into the statue...
"Indeed... One who is truly gifted would burn their heart and soul to rescue what is dear to them... To brave the flames and buckle under the weight of their own legend to protect something 'Normal People' take for granted... Because for someone as special as the 'Nephilim'... Surely anything that makes them feel welcome... Makes them feel happy is worth that struggle... Specially if that 'Thing' itself isn't ready to give up on them... Don't you think?"
|
|
|
|
Post by ELENA J. ANDERSON on Sept 16, 2013 17:20:01 GMT -8
"Yes," Elena muttered. "I could see how that animal would be considered precious." Her eyes dimmed momentarily—a hint of grief—as she looked up at the Nephilim's companion, a canine, slung, frail and enfeebled, over the Nephilim's back. Korra was gifted; there was painful desperation there, a last apology perhaps, poised in the canine's expression. For Elena, it read: I'm sorry I could not finish the journey with you, even though the Nephilim seemed to have been infected with the ardent fervor of the denial-heavy hero, clinging desperately to the hope that their companion would recover, unwilling to let them go, to admit it was too late. Oh, the message hit home all right. Elena felt her throat close, as if her mouth was filled with thick cotton. She glanced away. Words were heavy all of the sudden, laden with a mire of sorrow that traced its origins back through her history, to her partner, Hudson, and the loss she suffered.
While Korra continued her explanations, Elena rolled her shoulder uncomfortably, her eyes closing and her brow furrowing as if an irritating itch had unexpectedly surfaced. There was an old bullet wound there, and it had a habit of pitching a fit whenever she felt particularly guilty. However, her gaze skimmed back to Korra, thoughtful but patient, waiting for her to finish.
"I can understand that much, at least," she said. It came as no surprise that Brooklyn placed his head on top of her shoe, as if sensing the depth of her thoughts and the darkness in which they were headed. Animals always had a habit of picking up on the folly and emotional pitch of the human nature and the world around them, and dogs, in Elena's experience, were masters of it. She felt some of the tension that snapped through her back suddenly release. Elena must have been quiet for near five minutes before she spoke again, the rain still quietly pelting her poncho jacket.
"You know. Animal or not," she said, her eyes glazed over, lost in a solemn thought, "their problem is not solved. The animal itself is perhaps the most valued thing they have, but deep down, I am sure they are aware, it cannot replace what they want: acceptance. The normalcy they crave, or the simplicity of love from another human being. Understanding is a concept that would elude the Nephilim, particularly if the animal is lost. They would likely feel as if they've been set adrift on a sea, with no set destination, no cargo, no guidance, not even the stars. Ostracized from all they know, it is no surprise that so many legends of the Nephilim are of corrupted monsters seeking redemption."
Elena sighed. "It would be lonely. I do not think, if the Nephilim returned now, or if they ever existed at all, they would find very much has changed. I do not believe humans are naturally evil and mistrusting. Nor are we hopeless causes genetically programmed to enjoy violence and fierce competition. I believe there is a capacity to love that's more powerful than all of those things, and a thread of understanding too. A few, a very tiny few," Elena emphasized, "know this. They see it and they try to teach others. But it's not so easy. Change is difficult. We have been behaving the same way, for a very, very long time. Our society isn't capable of it right now. One day I believe it will be. But not now. Not yet."
WORDS!:586 TAG!: Korra NOTES!: N/A |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 16, 2013 21:00:19 GMT -8
Korra watched Elena struggle with the conversation, the topic clearly hitting close to home from how the officer seemed to struggle with the material in silence. It brought a meek smile to Korra's face, not because it seemed to bring her discomfort or despair, but because one half of the tale her statue would tell was being received. Though half of it reached the officer, the other half was still lurking deeper in the stone causing Korra to give a small nod's response each time Elena made a point, eager to reveal the beam of light that pierced the gloom.
"Right... Those things are absolutely true... With the loss of their companion they would be sent adrift with no way of reaching back to us... And so the Helens and Cleopatras become the Medusas and Harpies and legends blend together and things become muddled..."
Korra began explaining as she continued sculpting the wolf despite it being finished, using some engraving tools to begin carving some unique patterns into the fur, like fancy runes here and there, making the spine more prominent and giving it a lengthy tail at the end, nothing like a normal animal.
"That is... Assuming the animal does die... Of course... It's like you say... The nature of human beings isn't necessarily evil or mistrusting... We aren't violent or fierce creatures by nature... In the depths of our hearts, even if we deny it we are creatures of love, kindness and hope... Togetherness makes us strong, and unity makes us powerful... It is my belief that the reason most 'Nephilim' fail is because they meet that end far too soon, because while we're not mistrusting we are weary of the unknown... Scared of what we do not understand... But like all things as we grow used to their existence, they can become a part of us..."
Korra explained dusting off the last of the wolf's features giving it the form of a mythological wolf rather then your typical run of the mill wolf that you might find in the woods somewhere. Giving Elena a meek smile, Korra nodded at her words agreeing that someday humanity would be ready to accept the ones like the 'Nephilim', but she raised a hand to stop her from continuing further with that thought.
"--We're much more ready then we seem... Of course we would have fear of them... That much is undeniable... But the interesting part comes from our uncertainty... Whether or not 'Nephilim' truly exist... Which ones would be the real 'Nephilim' and which ones would just be powerful mortals?... How could we know... What distinction could there be?... Surely not all successful mortals are 'Nephilim' and if there is one... There can be more..."
Korra explained patting the mythological wolf's head before getting back to detailing.
"And just like that a third option appears... Rather then then being ostracized or dying... Rather then mortals being forced to accept and love the 'Nephilim' as equals even with all their differences... The we can make an effort to rise up and join them instead... Struggle... Strive and Claw our way up the pedestal and look them in the eyes... Because while we as people may not be as strong as them... We have the astounding potential to adapt and grow to overcome our differences and bond with one another... Just like this one here... Even a 'Wolf' can become an or 'Orthrus'..."
She spoke as she began finishing the detail in the back of the warrior's cloak, cutting it off around the knee section and letting it waft in an imaginary breeze, she continued working even while she told the tale. Making sure the material was properly weathered like the armor and the arrows in the Hell hound's back, she continued crafting a story into the warrior's clothing with various other wounds and worn areas of the cloak while she continued.
Taking the time to glance towards Elena who had been struggling with the story previously, Korra inhaled softly trying to sum up the message in it's completion as her eyes half lidded as if trying to see through Elena to her problems.
"Because while we may not be fiercely competitive... We take the strength of those around us as our own... In that way... The first 'Nephilim' to find a companion who can rise up with them... A companion who can rise up to meet them in their legends... A companion who's spirit will apologize for needing a shoulder to lean on, but refuse to be taken from their side... They'll surely be 'The Last Nephilim'... Because with one comes more, and if everyone is gifted... Then 'Normal' shifts and we become blind to who is and who is not as things blend just like the colors of our skin and the languages we speak... And the world becomes something just a bit more beautiful..."
Korra commented content as she finished the back portion stepping off of the step ladder once more, setting it aside since the upper portions were all taken care of, she was only half way done, but already the sorrow and despair of their struggle came through. Even while the animal on the warrior's back apologized, the one ray of hope continued to shine as the warrior continued to struggle, perhaps knowing that her partner was special, perhaps knowing her companion's condition better then anyone else.
Capturing that moment just before the ending of the story could be told, before seeing whether or not the warrior's companion survived the ordeal, Korra seemed satisfied with the framework and the story the piece told, the hope that it seemed to give off.
"You'll be able to gauge just how ready we are to change from your perspective... Right where you're standing..."
Korra explained stepping out from behind the ropes towards Elena, her gait precise and measured while she walked equal distances with each step, though that was only because her movements were always so fluid and calm like a machine she turned trying to stand beside Elena. Keeping a reasonable distance so she wouldn't rouse the officer's partner into a defensive position, Korra looked at her statue from Elena's perspective in thought.
Addressing what they talked about earlier, about how ready for change people are, Korra wore a faint but content smile.
"Because there is no one who could stand in this spot and not feel their heart urging the warrior forward... Hoping that their struggle is not in vain... No matter how much doubt they feel... How hopeless it seems... I'm sure everyone would take that step forward to help them take that next step... To help catch them the next moment if they should fall..."
|
|
|
|
Post by ELENA J. ANDERSON on Sept 19, 2013 8:53:26 GMT -8
“If,” Elena said, interrupting the flow of the conversation. “If we become used to them, they might be accepted, or at the very least, tolerated. There is a vast difference between being a part of a whole, one subject in a group of the same, and being born deliberately different, set apart from what already is.” It was unfortunate, but true. Elena was thinking carefully of her own family as she said this, and of course, of all the contradiction nature itself had thrown into the equation. Her brow furrowed thoughtfully. “To our ancestors, the Nephilim, if they ever existed at all and weren’t simply metaphors for our own burdens and troubles, might as well have been a different species all together. There’s a possibility the two were never meant to mix peacefully. Lions and tigers might appear to be from the same family, but they are not the same thing, not even remotely. And I doubt the two would love one another very much if they were thrown into the same environment so suddenly. A sort of tolerance would be achieved between the two over time, yes, and while I believe love and understanding can override that in sentient creatures, making the coexistence of two apex species easier, it is still impossible to say they are one and the same.”
Elena shook her head at another part of the argument. She enjoyed an intelligent debate, but she didn’t think things would work quite the way Korra believed. “The distinction is easy enough; Nephilim far exceed typical human standards of normalcy.” It was maybe another interruption, but Elena shrugged helplessly. “The capacity to adapt can only reach so far when another species has outdated your own means of survival, has become a threat you must always be wary of. Take the coyote and the wolf. They each have their gifts. The coyote was born resilient. It is one of nature’s most adaptable creatures, where as the wolf is larger, and more powerful, and has given up that adaptability for it. But if the two were ever to meet, the coyote’s adaptability falls short; it cannot fight a wolf, and it scarcely faces one.”
Elena hesitated when Korra drew near, her gaze locked on the statue. Finally, she frowned. Brooklyn snorted gruffly by her feet, as if agitated with something. “Perhaps. If they deserved it; if their actions so far through life warranted such sympathy. Because believe it or not, even Nephilim sometimes do not deserve such mercies.”
WORDS!:403 TAG!: Korra NOTES!:N/A |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 19, 2013 12:51:13 GMT -8
The conclusion properly reached, Korra's faint smile remained causing her to nod acceptingly when things finally came to such a forceful separation and whether or not they deserved such things as acceptance. Even with the interruptions, Korra wasn't particularly perturbed or didn't view it as necessarily rude, she was very aware of her long monotonous and droning speaking voice, coupled with her love for long winded stories while she sculpted. She'd grown used to letting people talk when they wanted to interject an opinion, it was part of what made the job enjoyable for her.
"That's right, but I believe it only further serves to suggest that we can co-exist, and that we're much closer to that point then we believe. Whether or not they are one in the same, the issue more in lies with the ability to keep up with the other which can be solved with effort and growth on our part, or help and kindness on their's."
Korra commented, the example of coyotes and wolves only causing her to nod her head again, though it was a bit cheesy, it was also something she considered.
"Coyotes and Wolves aren't the same certainly, but, when domesticated that confrontation becomes a lot different I feel. Yes, domesticating animals can take generations of breeding and training, but as sentient creatures I like to think we can curb some of that time."
She added, taking the time to brush herself off just a little getting some of the debris off her skin. Using the rain to wipe some of the dust free from the grinding, Korra continued.
"If they can make those kinds of mistakes, the kind that mercies would not be allowed to follow, don't you think those very imperfections make them more like us? There are two sides to every coin after all, Good and Evil, Light and Dark, Divine and Mortal, but these can always be crossed with a good creature of divine darkness, or an evil mortal who supports the light. While we may not be able to relate to the divine outright, those other coins across which we find traits we share can be what brings us together instead. Or, that is the destination at which I would like for people to arrive at; 'We are not that different, us and them'."
Korra finallized trying to be thoughtful, though it confirmed for her she did like sculpting in public much more then she did in her studio. Aside from the occasional kind words of strangers, it was moments like these where she could kidnap someone for a few moments to flush out the incredibly fine details of her works that no one in the right mind would ever recognize. It was one of the things she had the most fun with during her work though.
Even while she considered those things, nature was pulling her attention away for a few flashes, her stomach growling loudly, reminding her she'd skipped lunch trying to get here on time even while she was still 2 minutes late. Raising a hand to her stomach, she considered her options not quite ready to abandon someone she designated as her new friend by association.
"Lunch time, are you going to be free for a while Ms. Anderson?"
Korra asked, half inviting Elena to lunch but with only her last name to address her by, Korra didn't want to keep referring to her as 'Officer Anderson' like a thug or prisoner might.
|
|
|
|
Post by ELENA J. ANDERSON on Sept 19, 2013 17:25:00 GMT -8
“Domestication has nothing to do with the point, I’m afraid,” Elena said bluntly. She blinked tiredly, her mood quickly descending into one of mild irritation. “That alone was a process that took thousands upon thousands of years. The wolf and the coyote comparison is fairly accurate here. Nature often provides more examples of things like this than people give it credit for. There is a reason invasive species are such a threat—or why a niche can be threatened so easily and upset the balance. Do you not look to the case of Neanderthals when you think of the Nephilim? How one group was so thoroughly eliminated in the early years for the others to survive?” she asked, trailing.
Elena quieted a while longer, ignoring, or rather, failing to hear the disgruntled growl Brooklyn released by her feet. It was a noise pushed around his teeth, but hardly loud or threatening. In fact, it was lost amongst the conversation and the topic Korra pushed into: morality as a subject of connection. But the noise he made seemed to match the slight aggravation his partner felt with this conversation. Elena sighed again. She was firm on opinions that ventured into this train of logic; she dealt with them, as a cop, every day of her life. Evil was evil. It was not anything else but. Elena’s eyes grew distant and hard; she thought of Hudson again, of the man that had nearly killed her and had certainly killed him. Her eyes closed and she reached up to adjust the hood to her poncho, swallowing a growl of her own by breathing in deeply.
“No.” Her hand clenched around Brooklyn’s leash. “Imperfections and questions of purpose are certainly common place for sentient beings. Minor crimes and actions can be forgiven or redeemed. But evil is another matter entirely. That is not a simple mistake,” Elena muttered. “It is certainly not something any two separate, intelligent beings should connect over. ‘An evil mortal who supports the light.’ Or a ‘good creature of divine darkness’. There are gray moralities, yes, and then there are things that don’t make sense, and neither of those do.” Elena shook her head. “Oh, I believe they can be understood and loved. But I definitely do not think the quality of evil, or the potential for it, is something we should strive to seek connections through.”
She was still unsettled with this conversation, remembering each and every time in her life she had heard or followed some case, thinking, this is the worst one I’ve seen. Funny, how effortlessly her mind repeated those words each and every time something new and even more horrifying cropped up in her law enforcement career. She supposed she should stop telling herself that, but it happened almost involuntarily, perhaps as a defense mechanism, to convince herself it couldn’t get worse. Even if it always did.
“Officer,” she corrected, still agitated. “And I’m afraid I can’t spend too much longer here.” She had a job to get back to soon, after all.
WORDS!:501 TAG!: Korra NOTES!: Sensitive Elena is sensitive about certain subjects. Lol.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 19, 2013 18:10:33 GMT -8
"Unfortunately I'm not an expert on nature, I had thought that domestication could be a metaphor to describe how things can learn to co-exist with other species. Though I'm afraid I'm not an expert on nature, but I do know that we look upon the wounded or forsaken with sympathy, while fearing what we do not understand. It just boils down to overpowering the fear with sympathy or kindness, and seeing their capacity for love only helps to stir our own."
Korra spoke, taking more of the emotional side rather then the compound statistical side. After all her art was one that reached out to the heart in one way or another, rather then trying to peak people's intellectuality though the idea of stroking that part of a person may also be worth looking into. It drew Korra's attention until Elena became more cold and harsh in her speaking causing Korra to glance back at her unsure of whether or not her words were clear enough. A little confused by Elena's words, there was a very clear misunderstanding in what Elena was trying to describe which made Korra smile meekly still. After a few moments of thought, she tried to correct them.
"Not gray no, Evil is evil, and Good is good, shades of gray do exist I'm sure but I'm not so capable of distinguishing them. I wouldn't say they don't make sense, since those types of people come and go throughout history and exist in this day and age too, of course, minus the Divine portion, Dark and Light, Good and Evil are two separate faces on two separate coins."
Korra thought, wracking her brain for some adequate examples Elena might be able to relate to. She wasn't saying that they should relate through 'Evil', no not at all, but that the Divine and Mortals would mingle and approach those who were 'Good' like they were or 'Dark' or 'Light' unfortunately, the two coming together through 'Evil' was also an option, but that was true for anything else as well. After a few moments, she finally had a few examples turning to Elena with a hopeful gesture while she explained.
"For example, Freedom Fighters fighting against legitimate tyranny, they are people who exist on the 'Dark' side of the Light and Dark coin, but inherently hope to spread 'Good'. While the Tyrants, who exist on the 'Light' side, oppress the innocent and cause harm to people for personal gain are 'Evil' people. Like Robin Hood and George Washington I feel slide into that 'Dark' but 'Good' role quite well?"
Korra asked wondering if perhaps that would help Elena understand her perspective. A modern day interpretation would be vigilantes versus cruel corporations who treated foreign workers cruelly but at the same time, Korra couldn't be certain she'd get through to Elena with something so idealistic.
"Rather then connecting through evil, they would connect with those of us who fall into the same line of morality as them, just like mortals, even the Divine would be capable of 'Good' and 'Evil', 'Light' and 'Dark'. Of course, we shouldn't support the evil, but welcoming more good into our world is always something I feel we should strive towards."
|
|
|
|
Post by ELENA J. ANDERSON on Sept 22, 2013 17:03:18 GMT -8
"If only it were so simple," Elena said tactfully. She blinked up at the statue, thinking carefully. It was easier to say that then what she really thought: that it was unfortunately, all biased. No one could ever agree upon concepts of morality or right and wrong—clearly, not even Elena. The duty she felt toward her job was unspeakably high, and it affected her judgment of morality in all its levels equally so. Even she could recognize that, and she was the one so aggravated by such thoughts. Was a thief the equivalent of a murderer in her eyes? No. Could people redeem themselves? Yes. But there were certain crimes that deserved no chance of redemption in her opinion, and sometimes even she wasn't sure where she drew the line. But then again, who was? Regardless, Elena did not think it was wise to connect with others over malicious acts or evil intentions—no matter the gray area they fell under. All this talk of coins and sides—it only complicated the argument unnecessarily.
Elena's gaze dropped and settled on the back of Brooklyn's head; his ears continued to swivel, but his hackles bristled subtly, not quite raised, but getting there. She sighed, reaching up under her hood to rub the back of her neck and roll her shoulder at the same time. It eased some of the tension, at least. She figured she ought to relax a little more, but not entirely for her sake. Like any animal, Brooklyn seemed to be picking up on her frustration, and it was never good for a police dog to feel agitated or nervous. Perhaps it was for the best they get back to patrol soon anyway. But only once Brooklyn was comfortable again. He didn’t seem to be acting like his normal, charming self.
"I suppose I can understand what you meant to say,” Elena relented. “But unfortunately, morality is not a subject by which many people will be able to agree upon completely. One person's acceptable gray area is another person's limit. Connection with the whole of society would be difficult, even with a few friends on your side, and it would ultimately only encourage more division—because there are plenty of others who don't agree. Society itself hasn’t even reached the point where we can agree amongst each other over what concepts are right and wrong and which practices should be encouraged or dismissed entirely.” She paused, then smiled faintly. It wasn't worth anymore frustration. Some things could be debated until the end of time. “At least it’s been an interesting conversation. Ms. Quinn, you said your name was?” She nodded to the statue. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone working so fast, and in the rain, on a piece as large as this one. You’ve got talent, whether you believe it or not.”
Near unbelievable talent.
WORDS!:466 TAG!: Korra NOTES!:N/A |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 22, 2013 20:38:35 GMT -8
At Elena's responses to the complexity, Korra could only give a mild nod of understanding. Surely it was true, there were shades of grey just like there were colors, whether or not there was a lean and where that middle point lied was different from person to person, even if there were different colors. Though that being understood, Korra's meek smile remained as she tilted her head in thought, considering a future work she might do.
"Maybe it is simple though. So simple everyone deep down knows and understands it, but at the same time is afraid of that truth, because to punish that person accordingly would turn you into that type of person as well."
Korra considered, though it wasn't her personal belief, she enjoyed being the devil's advocate, it suited her, her style and the way she worked, even the very rare moments she could be expressive and vibrant, though vilely so. She gave it a bit more thought, thinking that next she should maybe craft an eye for an eye statue, the subjects she could use were already so amusing to her, it was worth considering the next time she got a project.
"In the world of an eye for an eye, even lady Justice is blind."
She quoted thoughtfully, but at the same time didn't want to cause Elena problems. Being the devil's advocate could only happen for so long before someone got frustrated causing her to give a small nod in response to what she could only think was the precursor to Elena having to continue on with her duties.
"Korra H. Quinn, yes. As long as it's helped you in some way, whether strengthening resolve or helping to find hope from the darkness, I'm glad."
Korra responded with her small blank smile hoping that the talk might have helped illuminate something or strengthen Elena in some way. She enjoyed sculpting things that made people think and grow after all.
Though at the comment that she hadn't seen anyone else work so fast in the rain, Korra looked back to her work uncertain. She'd only ever really watched people sculpt in fast forward to learn proper techniques, she couldn't quite explain exactly how she managed to work so fast, she just found it easy to work with. Maybe it was because she was on the road to a professional that she worked quickly, that was all she really had to attribute it to.
"I like to think I'm a professional, even if I'm young. I hope to be faster then this even some day, rain or shine. I hope you'll continue to support me--"
Korra spoke suddenly patting herself down mid-sentence. Searching for something, she fished through the thin pockets of her short shorts trying to work something out before offering Elena her small business card. It was cute, with a white and silver color scheme, the corners marked and boardered with a silver floral pattern Korra used when she was engraving plaques. It had her name, the "Harlequin" label name (Copy protected of course), hours of business, phone numbers, everything that would be needed to contact Korra for a job, investigate her past works, or even find out more info about where her pieces might be featured on one side. On the other side, it had a simple and sweet request to continue supporting her products and pieces.
"--and my future works."
She continued with her small smile.
|
|
|
|
Post by ELENA J. ANDERSON on Sept 24, 2013 21:33:32 GMT -8
At first, Elena wasn't quite sure of what to say. She accepted Korra's business card, tracing her thumb across the textured surface, wiping clean stray drops of rain and feeling out the Harlequin emblem as if to gauge something of Korra's work from the simple touch. As a cop, Elena was almost certain she would never find a reason to commission a piece of art, but perhaps somewhere down the line, the contact might be useful. In law enforcement, just as with organized crime, contacts were always welcome. It seemed as if both sides never had enough, actually. The only problem she could foresee with this was that Elena just didn't know what she could possibly go to Korra for in the future. In fact, a part of her hoped she wouldn't see her again. Usually, when Elena ran into someone multiple times, they were stirring up some sort of trouble. She didn't really have time for social activities like other people, and when she did, Elena often preferred to be alone. That made the odds of crossing paths with Korra again very small, short of some disaster or crime that surfaced. But Korra was young, and if she wanted to survive in this city, she would learn.
Finally, Elena lowered her hand and slipped the card into her pocket. "It certainly provided an interesting conversation piece," she admitted to Korra. It had given her a few things to think about too. She tugged gently on Brooklyn's leash, and the dog understood instantly; he rose up on all fours again and began to lean forward on his front paws in a drawn out stretch. His jaws opened in a wide yawn and his salmon colored tongue furled until he shook out his fur and stood beside Elena again, tail wagging back and forth. Finally, he seemed to be acting more like himself. Elena smiled down at him, then switched her gaze back to the statue.
"I hope whomever commissioned this piece will be pleased with the results. It's remarkable," she said. It was a polite gesture, but she turned to Korra anyway and offered her hand. "I must be going now, I'm afraid. Take care, Ms. Quinn. Stay out of trouble, hm? That's likely one of the most unique pieces of work this area has seen in a long time. I hope you're able to make more." Elena glanced down at her partner and jerked her head. "C'mon, Brooklyn." She slid her hand from Korra's, nodded once, and then pulled her partner away from the scene. They had work to do elsewhere, but stray thoughts of the Nephilim would likely plague her all day.
WORDS!:444 TAG!: Korra NOTES!: Aaaand Elena is out. Lol. |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 24, 2013 23:23:13 GMT -8
With a meek smile, Korra nodded accepting Elena's hand, though she didn't know Elena's thought process, the officer may someday have more of a need for Korra's assistant as a CI then meets the eye. Her card after all went to everyone she met, and her work took her to many places, there was a chance it may even take her to some seedy under belly where she might be a witness to something terrible or accidentally get mixed up in something shady by just being in the area. Only fate could tell, but Korra remained thankful for the meeting regardless, making an acquaintance might not have been as good as a friend or sewing seeds of love, but it was more then Korra had previously.
"Thank you, I hope many people come to enjoy this piece as well."
Korra replied with a small nod, though at the comment about staying out of trouble, she gave it some weary thought as if it were a bad omen or a jinx of some sort that may bring her some misfortune soon. Trying to push that superstition aside, Korra agreed a little concerned.
"I will. Please stay safe and continue doing your best officer."
Korra said trying to offer some kind words in response even if she didn't really have much she could really give her. When Elena turned to leave though, Korra's eyes fell back on the Nephilim statue, glancing it over, she continued working on it throughout the day, by the time it was finished, it was immaculate, from head to toe. With Elena's silhouette and Brooklyn's build used to craft the wolf, the Last Nephilim was completed later that day.
At the base of the statue, on it's stand where the soldier faced, there was a silver plaque beautifully engraved with the same silver pattern as her business card. On it the title was engraved in lovely silver Text: "The Last Nephilim" with small subtitles that read; "Take no kindness, no small mercy for granted. ~ Harlequin"
|
|
TERRESA
UNKNOWN ENTITY
RESIDENT UNICORN
小書瑀
Posts: 105
MINI INFO - GENDER: Female
MINI INFO - D.O.B.: HOW DARE YOU ASK A WOMAN HER AGE?
MINI INFO - OCCUPATION: Guardian Kirin of the White Rice Paddies
|
Post by TERRESA on Sept 27, 2013 9:34:03 GMT -8
| | | Finished Thread
You have been rewarded with ONE RESIDUE as this thread is now complete. It has been placed in the archives under the 'finished' sub-board. You are more than welcome to PM fate if this thread is not finished or if you are unhappy/unsatisfied with the amount of residue that has been rewarded. Keep up the great work and keep posting with other members.
|
|
|
