Rattrap

Rattrap

Postby Rattrap » Wed Jan 07, 2004 8:16 am

OOC Note: This has no bearing on anything. This is just a little piece of beautiful writing that shows some insight into my newer character, Rattrap. So if you're interested in learning more about him, or just want to read...something...then go right ahead!

The air was still, and frigid. The smoke pouring from the red, clay and mud chimney of Harold’s blacksmith shop drifted in its own lazy movement in contrast to the bright blue sunny sky; that same orb which gave the day its adjective stood proudly in the middle of winter, yet still doing little to warm the land. Snow glistened and sparkled everywhere it could be found, and people were coming and going on with their business at usual. Judging from the smoke, Harold was no exception.

There was a large tree that grew in the back alley behind Harold’s shop. It was a large old oak, and a somewhat lopsided one at that; at least, the shape in which it grew gave that impression. A good deal of the tree had grown over the building, almost to lean on it. It was a healthy tree, although not everyone would be able to tell that in the leafless months of winter. Perhaps it would be better said that the shop was built under the tree, as the tree had much seniority over the shop. The carpenters had wanted to cut it down, but Harold wouldn’t let them; he liked the old tree. It had character.

Today, the tree had a visitor that everyone could see; yet nobody knew was there. It couldn’t be blamed solely on the smoke column that rose over the particular branch this visitor was staying to absorb the smoke’s heat; it had more to do with the fact that the visitor looked very much like the tree. Only one better; at the time, the tree was an integral part of the visitor. To the tree, the visitor was simply another creature clinging to it for whatever reasons creatures like to. Trees don’t mind.

The visitor had no eyes, no ears. No tongue, and no nose. It could feel, and it could…sense. Much like radar detects, this creature could sense objects in proximity. But it wasn’t this that told it that it was time to start the day; that came from the sun’s brilliant, if not lacking in appropriate warmth, rays. And so the visitor began to leave the tree, in a process not much like other creatures leave trees.

The branch began to shimmer, like heat waves in the distance. But it was a little more pronounced; that is to say, if there were any looking upon this strange sight close up. But rarely did people look up to that particular stream of smoke and focus on it, and when they did, those heat shimmers weren’t entirely unexpected to find in smoke. Where smoke, fire. Where fire, heat. Of course, this was a little more local, precise - not quite as expansive as a hot horizon some many meters away.

The branch was molding away from itself, slowly forming an appendage that eventually took on the qualities of a human hand. This hand reached out to the chimney, getting a hold while the rest of the branch started to transform itself after the hand’s example, bit by bit becoming all the more human. The process was hidden away by that chimney smoke and the natural attributes that made it almost impossible to focus one’s eyes on when it was going on, anyway; it also generated a good deal of excess heat, but this was inconsequential most of the time. Especially at this time.

The human form dropped down to the roof quietly, genderless and hairless. These things were unnecessary and simply took more energy to form, respectively. The creature’s face was that of a boy with brilliantly colored blue eyes; a few would even identify to this face as the small boy named Rattrap.

Rattrap pulled his clothes out of the chimney, shaking and patting as much of the soot he could off them. While he was also capable of creating clothing from himself, this as well was an extremely difficult process, as well as nullifying the point of clothing in the first place that was, for him, to keep warm. Whether he was a plain human form exposed to the cold, or a smaller human form with self-generated clothing exposed to the cold, he was still exposed to the cold.

The branch sighed with relief as it grew a hundred-some pounds smaller.

The boy started to try putting on his breeches, but his balance on the slanted, iced roof wasn’t as good as he needed it to be, and he went sliding off the roof into the alley with a snow-dampened ‘plop’. His clothes, soot and snow covered, followed promptly after him. Rattrap gave only an
“Eeeep!” of surprise, but no cry when he hit the ground. There weren’t any human organs in him save the ones necessary to communicate and look like any other: vocal cords, eyes, etc. He hadn’t a need for livers or lungs or the like.

He sat up, trying to brush his clothing off again. It was a pretty hopeless process, and Rattrap gave it up quickly and simply tugged his breeches on, followed by his thick fur vest, and his almost new travel shoes that the kindly man with a strange last name gave him a gem to trade for; but then again, Rattrap wasn’t much one to talk about strange names.

Random contact with himself smudged the soot he’d collected from his clothing all about him, and once he’d emerge from the ally, any that paid him any attention simply assumed he was a under Harold’s management, and went on about their business.

Rattrap went on about his business, too.
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Rattrap
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