Rewth
Admin
| Posts: 1592 |   |
|
Re:Fuckin' Faeries - rewth's persona history - 2006/04/30 17:43
--- Early 17th Century
A little over a century later I found myself in Eastern Europe. My family was known as Rom and to some folks this was a bad thing. I never knew it as such. My family just traveled around a lot and the locals would get all pissy and chase us off. Quite rude if you ask me.
Truthfully I really enjoyed my life this time around. I saw tons of new places, met hundreds of interesting people. Life was a constant party, probably the closest to my original life as a satyr as I’ve ever found. We sang, we danced, we drank, we loved. Unfortunately, it would again be the loving that spelled my downfall.
I was in my early twenties when a fine young dancer caught my eye. She and I flirted regularly whenever our wagons brought us near. However, I soon learned that she was promised to another man. ‘Course that had never stopped me before.
One night she slipped into my tent. I protested tremendously... for about three seconds. We did many an unspeakable thing that night and I promised her that we'd run away together in the morning.
Well, we should have left right then and there though. When I awoke the next morning I found myself staring at her future husband's boot as he kicked me off my bed to the ground. I stood up ready to fight only to hear his flintlock discharge and a searing pain in my stomach. The ball blew through my spleen and shattered my spine. Death met me again within moments.
--- Late 18th Century
Next time around I grew up in a small fishing village. Spent my youth chasing girls and catching fish. Eventually found my way aboard a real ship. We were privateers, sailing the Mediterranean with letters of marques for any ships flying a French flag.
It was a life filled strife. Life on board a ship is pretty awful. The food is nasty, usually rotten. Fresh water is few and far between. Quarters are crammed to the gills with a rather rough sort of crowd. Severe injuries and even death are a common occurrence. You only see a lass when you make port, and then it’s not exactly the most pure and innocent of girl if you know what I mean. Bout the only good part was the Rum. Mmmm Rum is good.
Then one night after chasing a merchant Brig for at least a hundred leagues, a huge storm blew up from out of nowhere. In the process of lowering the sails so they weren't ripped to shreds, I was washed overboard. Shouldn't have been a problem, but it was.
One suggestion, if yer gonna spend the majority of your life on a boat on the open ocean. Learn to swim. At least the sharks didn't find me.
--- Early 20th Century
1920's - bootlegger
Spent the next round in the middle of "The Roaring Twenties". Living up the good life with free spirited women and plenty to celebrate. Then some evil bastard decided we were having too much fun. Apparently alcohol was to blame and prohibition kicked us square in the jaw.
Now, who ever heard of blaming booze for all of societies ills? Its what cures em! Talk about depressing.
Well, I've never been one to follow the rules so I started looking for ways around the system. Back when I was a satyr I mostly brewed my own, and I was pretty sure I could still manage a good batch, even without my satyr magic.
So a few of my friends and I set to bootlegging. It was amazing. The local speakeasies would buy up every drop we could make. We were hands down the most popular guys in the entire state. Could hardly walk into a joint without half a dozen ladies fawning all over me.
Unfortunately for me, we shifted our attention away from simple meads and beers. We decided to try my hand at the hard stuff. Big mistake. It tasted great, but I guess we screwed up the fermentation process. That or someone snuck something into our batch.
The morning after a heavy sampling of our first batch we all had the worst hangovers imaginable. By noon we wondered if things had gone wrong. Our stomachs felt like they were one fire. Two days of excruciating pain later, we mercifully succumbed to the poisons. Hate to say it, as slow and painful as going out was, it had been completely worth it.
--- Early 21st Century
So there you have it. Now it's almost 2000 years later. I've died of the plague, drowned, been shot, stabbed, cleaved, strangled, accidentally poisoned myself and even mauled by a bear. A good bit of variety I guess. There’s even a few more tucked lives tucked back there that I just didn’t wanna talk about.
This time around I'm a professional dork. I write "code" and "surf the internet" on these things called "computers" all day. When I get home I play "video games" and watch "television". Technology has taken some tremendous leaps forward in a very short span of time. The closest I get to faeries is playing a goofy game every weekend where I smack other folks with foam swords. Some of the girlies strap wings to their backs and flit about in semi revealing clothing.
Don't get me wrong though. It’s a good life. I still drink and flirt and party and have a good time. I've got a wife and a son and things are pretty good. But these days most folks don't even believe in Faeries. Chances of me finding one is pretty slim. I think I'm stuck here.
I miss my horns.
Fucking Faeries.
"But right now I'm a little concerned about my pants, since I don't know where they are." - Valathina Nailo |
Home 
