SGSW VI: A Rose by any other name would be as sweet...
6th: Pick a cliche. Write a story based on that cliche; the phrase does not have to directly appear in the narrative. You are welcome to use multiple cliches.
Taliorinth sat in the stench of the ship, long having since found her way stuck on this moving vessel, yet still not quite used to it. She felt sick constantly, and after days of vomiting at first, she’d finally calmed herself some. At least enough that she could lay in the darkness upright and breathe normally.
The time had passed since she wondered if she had or had not made the right choice. There was no turning away from what she’d done now, and that much was true. All that she could do was sit here, get better, and do whatever would be necessary to do next. Just as all those in the books she adored did. This was just a start to a new path.
The men (and few women) that tromped and shouted above the multiple decks made her feel uneasy, caused her to shrink in closer to herself, clinging to the rough, dirty linens of the loaned clothes. She was tense and in an unfamiliar environment still, merely waiting for the one person she did know to return.
That man, Nolahn, he’d called himself. On some little rare whim, she’d reached out and took his hand and let him steal her away from the sweet halls of Surau’nar. He’d lead her far from golden fields and instead off to distant docks in the middle of the night, washing the mending herbs along her bleeding tongue and urging her onto a ship.
He’d come back every day, told her that they’d dock soon in another port, promised that he’d at least help her so that she could go wherever she needed. Every time he came to talk, she rarely said anything. Perhaps a nod or two of her head, yet there was never any motion of upset from him as she kept her silence.
What her thoughts strayed to now was his suggestions to her… things he told her she should do to make sure she could be absolutely safe from what she now ran from. Cut her hair, if not dye it. Change her clothes and try to speak more common or orcish instead of thalassian. Maybe even, for a short time, looking into cheap enchantments to help her out.
It seemed odd.
She was not used to the idea of changing something like that. Her hair, perhaps, was fine… speaking in another language, she could do…
Yet, to change her name? Why did it bother her so much?
She bit at her raw, dry lip. Her gaze glanced to the side, where she’d rested a gemmed hairpiece. Looking over the gold weaved into the shape of the all too familiar rose, the gems inlaid to make it sparkle and shine, even in the tiniest of lighting. As it did often times as of late, she felt that pang of guilt. This was wrong, and she knew it. She should’ve done as she was told and just stayed there… just gone through the motions… not caused the trouble.
Yet she didn’t. She’d ran away, ruined an evening that meant so very much for all of their futures. She knew damned well what would await her had she just turned and went back now.
A disappointment.
She never listened well enough. She’d have made things into a mess for some petty reason, and she’d have to be punished for it. She was scared of the punishment almost as much as she was scared of the simple act of turning away from it all. The more she went one way, the worse the other would get, and she knew that much.
She thought over it again and again, her mind a swirl of things that upset her and made her feel as sick as the waves under the ship did. What point was there in even thinking about going back by now? What was the point of keeping things that labeled her as this failure she was to her family. If anything, wouldn’t it help them if she’d just do that?
Why was it so hard for her?
Her fingers curled around the hairpiece, feeling the sharp metal biting slowly into her palm, her brows knit in frustration. She didn’t know what to do, and no one told her specifically what she should. It was confusing to her, and she hated it.
Taliorinth let out a long breath, glancing around the room she’d been stuck in. Dark as it was, it was at least becoming familiar to her. The hard bed under her was like a small island of safety to her, a space she’d occupied since the moment she’d come on board. Shifting to sit more upright, she held herself steady on the edge of the thin mattress. After the moment of dizziness faded away, she finally pulled herself to her feet, stumbling only slightly before she could focus on where she wanted to go.
Perhaps only a few steps away was a rusted mirror, small in nature, but enough for what she wanted. When she made her way there, she could hardly recognize who stared back out at her.
Her long, well cared for curls that so often were held back in the fanciful pins were now short and messily falling along her cheeks. The soft, clean ivory skin now had dirt along it, blending in with the soft freckles that she was so used to seeing. There was a flush on her face now that was a stark difference to the lack of coloring elsewhere thanks to the sickness that had come with boarding the ship. The few times she was out in the burning sun had certainly taken it’s toll, leaving a certain heat under her skin she disliked greatly.
She was different. Someone she couldn’t recognize. She wasn’t a lady who did as was told, nor the sister that she had been…. Not even the daughter that she should have lived up to be. What was she, then, if nothing else?
A runaway?
One of these pirates she now was with?
Taliorinth Rosespear.
That’s who she had been, yet looking into the mirror at her reflection, she knew it wasn’t who she was now. She’d taken Nohlan’s advice and she’d changed everything, and with that, she became something more. Only one thing was left that she hadn’t changed...
She focused on herself in the mirror, red lined blue eyes looking back through.
“Taliori.” she said for a moment, “Taliori. My name is Taliori.”
Her voice was quiet, like a whisper in the room… yet it held more weight than anything she’d said in the past few days.
“My name is Taliori.”
She said it again, erasing the fanciful thalassian from herself, ripping away the name of a rose that was so hard grown into her.
I cannot express with words what I feel when I see my #Nolahn smile because he sees me, when he cuddles with me and smiles on his sleep acknowledging that daddy is finally home, the moment he cries when he sees me putting on my motorcycle jacket knowing I'm leaving to work. These moments are the ones that making this life worth it, these are moments that make me get up everyday to try harder even when I'm tired, the ones who give me strength to improve my life in order to avoid mistakes that have hold me back or hurt others. This little guy will always be major motive in my life to keep pushing forward, not looking back and with no limit ahead of me.
Who says track bikes are not kids friendly! 🚴🏼👶🏻🍼💨Summer times with this young man to enjoy him every second I can. #trackbike #nolahn #bestyoungrider #specialized #TDF2015
“She is efficient and well-read, two traits I highly appreciate. Her manner is cold, sharp and likely off-putting to others, but I require no kindnesses or platitudes to work, only the ability to actually complete an assignment. An acceptable partner.”
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“Aw, she’s a lil’ businesslike, but that ain’t necessarily a bad thing. I’ve worked fer colder. An’ it’s not like she don’t care ‘bout her subordinates. Made a point o’ comin’ over an’ congratulatin’ me after my promotion. She didn’t have t’ do that.”
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“He’s not so bad. Long as he doesn’t get the kiddo killed workin’ with him. She keeps comin’ back from whatever they’re gettin’ themselves up to, we’re fine.”
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“The Sunspears are lucky to have her. She’s one hell of a fighter. Wouldn’t mind getting more chances to talk to her, but I don’t think she’s much into wasting time on small talk.”
"I still care about him a lot and count him as a close friend. Wish there was more time to spend together, but deployments and weird ass schedules have made it a pain in the ass to find each other. Ugh." - "He tends to encourages my studies and assists where necessary more than teaching, which is somewhat different for a teacher-apprentice relationship. That said, he has opened doors for taking part in projects and study that I likely never would have encountered otherwise. I have no problem serving as a research assistant. Additionally, he has never lit me on fire. This is a major plus." - "She's adorable and kind and caring. And frequently dirty. Sometimes it's more like being her babysitter than her girlfriend. Pretty sure I'm in love, which is annoying sometimes. But I wouldn't trade my time with her for anything, so you know. There's that." - "She might as well be my sister, and there ain't no one I'd rather have at my back when the chips are down."
The Cursed Revenge made for its prey, a cargo vessel out of Stormwind that had lost a sail in a storm and been left behind by or otherwise ended up separated from the rest of its convoy. She was riding low enough in the water that she was clearly laden with all manner of profitable goods.
Nolahn Silverwing watched idly as they drew ever nearer to the target, running a sharpening stone along the blade of his cutlass. He glanced to the closest other member of the crew, another experienced swordsman. Unlike Nolahn, though, whose nervous tic while they waited for action was sharpening and re-sharpening his blade, Gabriel Shadowdrake simply stood, watching nothing in particular, arms crossed and expression presumably implacable beneath his black mask.
"Y’know, Gabe, y’ shouldn’t get so excited about this sort of thing," Nolahn drawled. Scrape. "When y’ get all worked up y’start makin’ mistakes."
Gabriel ignored him loftily.
"See, the kid and I? We’re professionals."
Gabriel’s eyes flicked to Nolahn, then across the deck. There, arm wrapped around a line of the ship’s rigging, hung the form of Nolahn’s partner Taliori, the aforementioned ‘kid’. She had one arm through the line, a knife clenched between her teeth, and a peach in her other hand, and was at that moment clearly trying to figure out how to solve the dilemma of how to eat the peach without dropping her knife or falling to her death.
"Mmm," Gabriel grunted.
Nolahn let out a snort and drew the sharpening stone across the blade again. Scrape. “Okay, fair enough.”
Nolahn’s reverie was abruptly interrupted by a jolt, his leaned-back chair tilting forward so sharply and suddenly that he nearly lurched face-forward into the table. He glanced down to see that Gabriel had hooked the chair with his boot and given it a pull, the rogue’s grey eyes squinting at him from above a mask indistinguishable from the one he’d worn all those years before.
The other rogue nodded across the room, and Nolahn shifted his attention to see Tali engaged in a spirited argument with the bartender, who appeared to be in possession of one large, fuzzy Pandaren peach. As they watched, she abruptly reached over the counter and grabbed it out of his hand. The victory was short-lived, however - the bartender pulled a knife, and Tali blinked down at him… and a smile that both of her companions would recognize as the one Tali got when someone was suddenly about to have a really bad day spread across her face.
Nolahn groaned, covering his eyes with one hand. “I suppose we should go stop her from killin’ him, huh?”
Gabriel grunted noncommittally, but he got up. Nolahn followed suit with a sigh. “The more things change, the more they stay the same.”
