The Odd Couple, Sam&&Schmitty [the S club]

[Schmitty]

A small dirty figure was being dragged behind two burly humans through the busy marketplace. Apparently, their prisoner was not happy with the situation. Long streams of explicit nouns and adverbs spilled from his pale lips. His thin wrists were entangled in a complex series of knots which he struggled against.

Some might think that two burly, dark skinned humans, dragging behind them a figure of a navy blue tone and constantly altering, might have created a stir in the usual bumble of the shopping center. Quite the contrary, the only reason some noticed something odd was due to the fact that the burly humans nearly mauled the smaller individuals that did not escape their path.

Finally, the oddly colored creature ceased his writhing and allowed a sly smirk to spread across his features. This revealed a fairly humanoid row of incisors, though his canine tooth seemed to extend a few centimeters further down than a regular human. Heh. Good thing he wasn't completely human or else that might have been weird, right? Seeming not to notice the change in the male's attitude, the guards continued with their trek towards the center of town. (All streets extending from a central grand palace... Which held the dungeons and other places of house criminals. Which was exactly where he was heading.)

Slowly, the area of skin where the ropes were secured to his arms, began to fade and quiver. It was the same incomplete image one got when trying to view something at a great distance in a hot environment, until finally the ropes slipped right through his "skin". This the guards did notice. They shouted and turned, only to find the rope dragging along the dusty street. Their prisoner, though, was no where to be seen.

Somewhere, about a block away, a man about five feet eleven inches, dusted himself off, and rubbed his wrist. His blue skin was concealed beneath a fairly human shade of pink with many splotches of brown rust that coated the members of these parts. Smirking, the familiar extended canine once again gleamed in the sun. Feliks pulled the jewels from his trousers and inspected them, allowing the gleams to reflect also.

He was a master. Sure, there had been a few times he had gotten caught. But, that's because he was cocky, and generally the only time they actually dragged him all the way to the capital, he had been young, arrogant, and well, human. Ever since the transformation he had grown wealthy auctioning off precious jewels and garments. The good thing, was that he'd never be caught, because he was never the same person. The only thing that could give him away was the trademark tooth, the unusually dark freckles speckling his nose and cheeks, dark, ebon, liquid pools of irises, or if he slipped up and didn't realize he was changing.

His current camouflage was rather younger than usual. His features gave the appearance of about twenty-one cycles, with dark unruly hair that barely caressed his shoulders, and a burly build. Stuffing the gems back into his pocket he made his way into the throng of the people, awaiting his next victim to his sticking, thieving fingers.

[Sam]

Her pupils grew smaller in the vision of light, dilating slightly at the satisfying vista that lay within an arm’s reach. The iris matched the dancing colours of the burning flame, orange, yellow, red – all tangled together with the arrival of heat and inevitable smoke that rose lethargically from the searing wood beneath it. The presence sat closer to the fire than any other surrounding. Her proximity to the burning flame captured the eye of a handful of children, who ran and pointed from behind their mothers aprons at the curious girl by the fire.

Her hand hovered vehemently above the tongues of the flames, beckoning them to touch her. Would it burn today? A small smile played at her lips her eyes devoured the show before her. Was it the fact that Quinn, in all her 19 years of existence, had never understood the sting one would experience with the physical interference with an active fire that provoked this almost obsessive routine every morning?

The hair made unkempt by restless sleep shone bronze in the light of the morning, falling barely past her shoulders. The hustle and bustle of the morning market place left her generally unnoticed by comers and goers of the village – which suited her ideally, her little experiments needed not an audience. Her hand dipped lower still to the fire, to the point where it grazed the edges of the flames curling and twisting through the air. This does not suggest that she didn’t feel the heat, she definitely felt the heat – but instead of the eventual stinging sensation felt by most humans after stunts such as these, Quinn felt the power of the flame seep into her skin, and into her veins. Her slender body shivered in delight as the flames licked the smooth exterior of her right hand. Her body was cloaked by an unusually masculine attire; a plain white tunic, with a pair of dark brown pants that were rolled up to her knee’s – her appearance wasn’t far from the typical beggar.

The grunting of two begrudged guards could be heard behind her, she turned in response and attained perfect view of an unusual character struggling in amongst them. His discoloured skin was what had attracted her eye immediately, what was he? She watched enthusiastically as the creature began to fade – at first she assumed her eyes were experiencing difficulty with their proximity to heat, but after consequent disappearances of the… things body parts, she realised there was nothing wrong with her eyes. Suddenly he was gone – to be honest, a small hint of disappointment fluttered across her otherwise amused expression – the morning’s excitement appeared to be over. Though witnessing the reaction by the guards in the evaporation of their prisoner provoked a small chuckle to escape her lips.

She stood from her position on the dirty floor, taking a final glance at her dancing friend she turned, and walked several paces from the fire. Stopping, she turned swiftly and precisely – thrusting her hand, palm upwards at the lonesome woodfire. Her expression hopeful, but was quickly re-united with disappointment as the flames continued to burn.

[Schmitty]

Long, pant covered legs swung back and forth from the roof top overlooking the fire-burning alleyway. Hmm, that alone was unusual. Times likes these, the fires were getting put out, the sun was rising, the heat was just barely withstand-able, and it was usually times like these that people started doing something. Arguably, the girl was doing something, he didn't know what though. The thing that had attracted him to this particular roof time was the girl's amusement. He was an attention seeker, anything, anyone, that would watch him, was automatically his next interest, though it usually didn't last long.

Launching himself from the rooftop, he landed softly, rather gracefully (especially from such a height), with nothing but a cloud of disrupted dust. The recognizable thud that usually accompanied a dismount of the sort, was absent and misplaced. Long elegant fingers, laid across his pale lips as he allowed an extravagant yawn, as he leaned against.... Well, like a mime trick, the wall he leaned against happened to be absent and misplaced also, as his elbow was propped against nothing but air. "You know, lady. It's probably easier to put out a fire by kicking this plentiful dirt on it, than waving at it like that." His head bounced in an enthusiastic nod, to emphasize his point, and correct-ness.

[Sam]

She tilted her head slightly at the presence that suddenly appeared before, his feline like leap captured her attention. He was incredibly nimble. “Oh, I was trying to-“ What had Quinn been trying to do anyway? The characters advice questioned the very purpose of her being. Why did she believe she could put out the fire? What was she?

The truth was, Quinn had no-idea what she was or more importantly who she was. Five years ago, she had woken in the middle this very street; thin slices etched into the skin of her left palm, and the crisp creamy white exterior of her femur poked through the sun darkened skin of her leg. Apparently, she had taken a rather brutal fall from her horse, Ali. Before then, there was nothing – occasional blurs and flashes of what could have been her past – she wasn’t sure. She knew one thing though, before this accident she had lived her life alone. Since then, she has never met a supposed friend, or possible family member that had searched far and wide for her; nothing. Sure, the feeling of being completely alone frightened her somewhat – but she wasn’t completely isolated. Finding her bruised and twisted body laying in the centre of the busy street, the Flemming family took it upon themselves to take her home to their shack, and care for her like any family would. The Flemming’s bore the ability to manipulate liquid of any kind, they could pull water out of thin air and throw it to the ground. So, much like a baby bird following it’s mother, Quinn believed she could also. That was a little too lengthy of an explanation to give the stranger before her.

She didn't seem to understand his humour, recognizing his advice as rather patronising than hilarious. Perhaps it was her wary of character that disallowed the grin to form at her cheeks. Though, for some reason, this ... man, before her seemed somewhat familiar.

"And who might you be?" Her voice was barely audible with the echo of bartering townsfolk in the streets behind her.

[Schmitty]

She didn't smile. That was the first thing he noticed about the girl. Sure, he enjoyed the initial reaction, confusion was the first step. But generally, finding laughter, or some kind of immediate reaction was the first step in being amused by the character he selected. ANYTHING, would suffice, a grimace, a growl, a guilty smirk that appeared when people laughed at things they knew they shouldn't. His life revolved around reactions.

His brow elevated beyond what was normally considered 'perked'. "Who I am, matters not." He said, taking a seat on his invisible chair that he carried around with his invisible wall, Feliks also seemed to have an imagine table as he propped his elbow on it and leaned forward a bit. His feet dangled just inches above the brown dust covered walkway. "Plus, why would I crazy young woman" - She was crazy? HA! What a hypocrite- "Oh please. Don't grovel. Oh fine, you've persuaded me." He pushed back his chair and stood upon the ground once again.

In a lithe movement, he had closed the several meters from his indiscernible table, to where the young woman pondered, something another and danced only inches from her. "However," He whispered in her ear, "You mustn't tell anyone. It's a secret. Shh. I'm a convict. I'm a criminal. I'm the king." He jumped, suddenly several yards away once again. "Actually, I'm a liar. For, in actuality, I am a jester." His hand swept the dust from his -now- pointed shoes with bells at the tips, as he genuflected.

"Who are you?" He finally asked, allowing his head to roll to the side with an inquisitive expression. Somehow, through the whole thing, he ended up evading the actual question, which answer she was probably seeking.

[Sam]

Her eyebrow raised as he performed for her, his quick and theatrical movements made a certain narrowing of her eyes occur. As he labelled himself over and over, she began to grow slightly frustrated with his evasiveness to her questions. "Wha-" She tried to intercede his ramblings, but was soon cut short by yet another name for himself.

With the finale of his sililique(sp?), her face held and expression of both bewilderment and curiousity. Though, at the same time she felt frustrated with his answer. Not to mention his question! Why should she willingly answer his questions, without him granting the answers of hers. Essentially, she had no answer for him.

Her eyes flickered from his face, to his long slender limbs, then to his feet - which now had been clothed with the shoes of a common jester. He had overwelmed her with his change in proximity, and form; the connection between the mysterious blue characters in the street, and the one standing before her, clicked together.

"You're the one from the street..." She accused pointing her index finger in his contantly changing direction whilst disregarding his question without an answer, internally she praised her evasion of his question, now she was just as elusive as he could be - she saw them on equal playing fields.. Her expression was somewhate smug, feeling triumphant in getting her answers... though, in many way's he was still a stranger to her. Did he call her crazy?! Her hand twitched in reaction, she had to remember to keep her anger under control - though, this fellow seemed very willing to tempt her.

[Schmitty]

His familiar elongated tooth protruded over his lip in the signature sly grin, as her confusion and exasperation displayed boldly upon her feminine features. He had to admit, he much preferred entertaining dim-wits, especially male dim-wits. It was just easier to amuse those with lower expectation than those, like the young woman, who were more noble than those in the royal families.

Her accusation seemed to throw him off guard. Like an offended snake, he recoiled into a very tight, upright posture as he pointed towards his face with an astonished expression. His eyes were wide and his jaw may have been dislocated according to the angle of jaw-dropped-ness "Me? Well.." The boggart trailed off, his features once against contorted into an animated thoughtful expression. "Did he look like this?"

In a puff of smoke, the once-was-tall, figure reconstructed itself into a five foot four creature with the dark skin, ragged similar black hair, freckles, dark eyes, and spindly fingers. He seemed mostly human, with the exception of the a. constant changes to his anatomy, b. the long, floppy ears that were rather goat-like, that poked out of his hair with dark tuffs falling from them, c. the dark, black, runes that were inscribed along his arms and figure beneath the now, baggy clothing. "If so, then yes. I would have to agree that I was that poor soul. Hmm.. I wonder how he got away, anyways."

Before given the opportunity of answering his own question, another cloud of smoke, or possibly dust in this environment, revealed another male figure, that was even shorter than Feliks at the current moment. He completely could have been passed off as a troll or dwarf, with the extravagantly long beard that obscured his features.

The theatric appearance that rivaled Feliks' own stunts, spooked the rather outrageous character. In another flash of a moment, he was perched, all fours, upon the woman's shoulder's, like a frightened cat.

With some random mumblings and flamboyant hand gestures, the man was gone in was seemed like only instants, living both the jester, and the woman more confused than before. The Feliks was not accustomed to bewilderment, and therefore froze upon the woman's shoulders.

[Sam]

As the tooth made it over his lip, she knew she was right. A small lift of triumph made her lips curve at their edges slightly. It had been the first time she had smiled since this jester had been with her. She tilted her head slightly, looking the... man, up and down once - but her view was obstructed by an instantaneous puff of smoke.

With instinct, she took a single step backwards away from whatever it was that would emerge from the smoke. It was him, the thing from the street. She didn't want to look surprised, but in all honestly she hadn't met many... shapeshifters, if that's what he truthfully was, before.

How ordinary she felt when mirrored against this colourful character. Her hand twitched again with both a sense of fear and excitement and in responce, she closed her fist - these twitching spasms were distracting.

Before she could confirm with the man that that was what she had seen, she was interrupted again! Gah! Can't anyone wait for her to finish her damn sentence?! And with the sudden weight - not metaphorical, but literal - upon her shoulders - she freaked out. She jumped forward, out from under the creature and reached for his throat almost as if it were her only reaction. His skin felt cold against the increased temperatures of her skin. But anger was replaced with confusion as when she looked behind her, the dwarf had disappeared.

With all her petty concern about getting the elusive male from her shoulders, she had completely missed the performance of the other male. "UGH!" She growled. Frustrated, with both jester and the ability to simply disappear Her amber eyes, glanced over at her confused companion.

[Schmitty]

He stood stock still for a moment. Freezing in time and space in mid everything he did, when her feverish fingers locked around his throat. Contact was not something he was used to. He was fast, and skilled and did he mention fast before? His skin was flawless, free from marks or scars that may have occurred in battle. Why? Because he was able to dodge or disappear mere moments before any kind of contact.

So when this girl, this plain average girl with nothing, not even a sense of humor, hand her slimy, little, human fallangies entwined threateningly around his throat, he, for once, did not know what to do.

Only did he move when the woman allowed a frustrated grunt, and he snapped back into 'reality' (whatever that was for him). In quite literally, a flash, he was in his beggar attire, in the dark tan complexion with rounded small ears that made him quite human. Though, he was hunched over, resting his chin in his hand with a very pensive expression.

[Sam]

She looked down for the slightest of moments, gazing back up at what she expected to see a navy blue figure with floppy ears and freckles... was now what it seemed to be, just a regular human. For a second she believed the Shapeshifter had disappeared... thank god, and that his fellow had wandered in from the street. But with better judgement, she realised it WAS the shapeshifter.

She closed her eyes, unable to process all this information at once. She just wished he could stay the same for at least a minute. "Ugh... why can't you just be normal!" She spoke to him like she would someone she had known forever, which was strange... seeing as Quinn hardly ever made friends, she was lucky enough to recieve such wonderful hospitality from the Flemming family.

She looked over the body of the new... shape, is that what you would call it? She pushed her hair back - something she did when she was frustrated. "Who was he?" She started, referring to the dwarf man, before he could answer she ut him of, "Did you hear what he said?" She wanted answers.

[Schmitty]

Mentally, a smirk slid across his animated features. She was getting riled up, and that was the whole purpose! He knew the woman couldn't stand stoic for very long. And he'd, with help from a mysterious man, finally managed to break her. However, all of this was kept internal and he did not allow it to pass through the human glamor.

Normal? Was that her request. Hmm, he thought about it a moment, (which in actuality, was quite a bit faster than a moment), before finally wrinkling his nose. His generally up tight or lank posture clumped over in a hunch, that seemed to be the norm for the area. Scooting, without picking his feet up entirely, he made with way to the shadowed side of the alley. His figure leaned against the wall and moped with crossed arms. This was normal right?

His dark eyes traveled to hers when she questioned about the other male. "Huh. Who?" He asked as if not understanding. Then, by way of a reply, he simply shrugged and sighed. "Yeah, I heard it." He replied, without informing her that he hadn't understood the tone or language he was using.

[Sam]

She stifled a laugh at his attempt to be normal, a small smile arose in her lips. This man had quite a personality. Her fingers twitched again, she watched him, waiting for his answer. Her mood lighter than before.

Though, this was quickly changed as he evaded her question once again. The remainder of the smile vanished against his voice. Her eyes widened the slightest bit with her anger. Her fingers twitched, she was tempted to rip his head off of his shoulders, though she was curious about the strength of the man - whether it changed with his form.

Another growl escaped her lips as she realised he wasn't going to give her any answers, regardless of the fact that he might not have any. She was sick of his games. She shook her head at him, her jaw tensed with frustration. Her hands lifted in up slightly as she growled, before she attempted to turn away.

That's right, attempted - as her leg went to step around, she gasped slightly. Her muscle felt numb, it wasn't working! She tried again, looking away from the boy - but as his figure met her peripherals her head could not turn any further. Her eyes snapped back at him, "What have you done!" She yelled at him, trying one last time to turn back to the busy street.

[Schmitty]

A theatrical brow raised in question to her excuse for a laugh. He wasn't trying to be funny anymore. Well, he hadn't consciously been trying to get a rise out of her. Actually, yes he had. But he figured the obstinant human creature would have gotten under her skin, rather than lift her mood.

Heh. He was right, which happened surprisingly often. He was very good at reading people. When they didn't act the way he had expected, he truly became confused. Which also, apparently was hilarious in itself. Thus making him humorous in all that he did, and a personal favorite of the kings and his younger heirs. The growl was reassuring, it meant he was correct.

His head tilted at her odd display. What was she doing? If she was trying to be hilarious, she wasn't very good at it. For a moment he contemplated offering her hints, but decided against it when she spun and snapped at him.

What had he done? He didn't do anything, had he? Funny things always ended up happening around the odd male. Usually, Feliks was pretty conscious of these things though. His face scrunched into a thin point near his nose as his brows furrowed and his lips tightened. "I dun know." He finally said with a shrug. Was there anything different?

[Sam]

Her pale complexion, slightly browned with dirt had flushed red. She was angry. Frustrated. Confused. Overwhelmed. She looked at the man again. Ugh! Did he ever answer anyone? A slightly hysterical laugh escaped her lips as she pushed a hand through her hair, her body slumping on the floor - looking up at the man.

"I don't even know you're name and I'm frustrated with you!" Quinn groaned, it was true - Who was this man? Where had he come from? All she needed was answers! Heat once again ran through her veins, this was a new feeling, it made her feel powerful - a loose canon with a short temper. It seemed that this man was a catalyst to this feeling.


"I can't turn around..." She didn't mean that in a flattering way, as in 'I can't turn away from you' sort of phrase, instead, literally. "Try, go on..." She tempted him, now he'd know how she felt. The side of her mouth curved up slightly in an expectant grin, this would teach him. She flicked a tiny rock away with her fingers, giving up on the shapeshifter for a moment to regain her sanity. Had all of this even happened?

[Schmitty]

"Well," he crossed his arms over his chest, taking a few steps towards her. "You shouldn't be so hypocritical. I haven't your name either, so why should I tell you anything, huh?" He asked in a very childish manner, bending forward and sticking his tongue out. He was slightly towering now that she was on the ground, it made him feel really tall.

When she muttered, however reluctantly her inability to turn from him, his abnormally expressive eyebrow perked as his features took on a look of seduction. "I'm sorry to say that the feeling is not mutual," He recoiled into an upright, straight backed, position and looked down upon her in a posh manner. "You just aren't my type." To rub salt in her already gapping wound, he scuffed his, now bare, feet against the dirt, sending particles of dust and grime on the young woman.

In response to knowing that he had done something to anger another person, his first reaction would be to hop, jump, or suddenly disappear. Usually it was the latter. Though, this time it didn't work. It never didn't work! He jumped in his quick and sneaky way, but collided with an invisible wall which he slid down painfully. Though there was physically nothing there, the sound of the skin on his face squeaking down a wall was loud and present.