• Solo • Butterflies

Kotton uses Glamour to cheer up a sad child who vaguely reminds him of himself

2nd of Saun 723

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Kotton
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Butterflies

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Saun 2, 723
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Not being able to hear had never been too much of a hindrance for Kotton. He always liked to think of it as an extra challenge. What he did not know could not hurt him after all. Because he didn’t know what a lute sounded like, he didn’t desire to hear it. Because he did not know what a soprano sounded like, he didn’t get frustrated with the fact that he couldn’t hear its range. Ignorance was bliss, and while his philosophical nature constantly fought with his mind, sometimes he just had to let go and choose not to dwell on that which could not be changed; it would invite an immutable sorrow in the end.

Knowing this, he didn’t know how to use his gift of Glamour to create an illusion using the sense of hearing. This didn’t bother him, though- he had actually chosen to not wield this ability. He didn’t feel like he was missing out. He had adapted and since he didn’t know what he did not know, it didn’t make much difference to him. That being said, the illusions he was able to manifest simmered down to the remaining four: sight, touch, taste, and smell. Oh, and the things he could see, touch, taste and smell. It was fantastic.

Since he was short one sense, the others had naturally heightened- some evolutionary self-preservation thing or something, he didn’t know. The smell of freshly baked bread almost translated to the sound of the crack of the loaf as it was pulled apart. He relied on his other senses to make up for what he did not have and for the most part, he was content with it. And today was no exception.

He was gradually coming down from a glorious high. The slats in between the wooden boards that made up the fence to his right gently decreased by the magnitude of which they vibrated. The feel of his cotton shirt leisurely began to gain traction into the realm of tangibility. His feet started to feel more grounded and less like he was walking aimlessly in a dream he had no control over.

He licked his lips and gazed at the sky. It was looking worse for wear; grey, like a storm was brewing. It was likely it would cast an ugly onslaught of tears upon the denizens below. He rolled his eyes. The sky seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

Sometimes he wished that sobering up didn't kill the high. He wished the world would stay peaceful and pleasurable even as he came into a cognizant mindset. Unfortunately, his default perspective was boredom, discontentment and restlessness, and it made it seem like the world was trying to mock him.

Kotton pressed his palms to his ears. He wasn’t entirely deaf- he could hear extremely loud noises, but for the most part his eardrums were shot, making normal conversation almost impossible.

His long-time friend had always said the mornings were nice because the birds would sing. Kotton was unaware that birds sang. Worick had also said that the bards at the tavern he frequented had the most lovely voice in all the town. Kotton had never heard their lyrics. Worick had mentioned something about the way the rain trickled against the windows of his house like a soft pitter patter of an unharmonious beat. Kotton couldn’t imagine whether that sounded pleasant or terrible.

He sighed and allowed his gaze to linger forward. It was then that the stagnation of his imagination ceased. There in front of him was a young girl who was sat hunched over, back against the siding of an old and worn townhouse. He normally minded his own business. He hated walking into situations where he had to converse with others and he hated talking in general because of the reaction so many people gave him- they made fun of his speech impediment. But this seemed a little different- a little… off to him. He didn’t know why, but deep down he was reminded of himself when he was younger: alone, melancholic and trying to find distractions or motivation to move on from whatever it was that had been plaguing his happiness.

He took quicker strides to lessen the distance between himself and the girl. Once he was close enough, he acquired her attention by tapping his foot lighting in front of her bowed head. She didn’t look up initially. She probably thought it was someone simply pining for attention, so he tried again with a little more urgency. Eventually she raised her head.

Their eyes met. Hers were beautiful, but heart wrenchingly sombre. They held no glint, no sparkle apart from their natural sheen of moss green. Kotton recoiled slightly upon seeing the despair that was captured in such a young individual's eyes. No one should be that sad at such a young age. It sounded hypocritical to him because he had been just as sad when he was a young boy, but it didn’t seem okay to him now that he had matured and accepted that depression was even more serious during childhood.

He racked his brain for something- anything to try to turn her frown into a smile. It was unlucky that there was nothing pretty around. There were rotten wooden planks making up a haphazard fence, a gravel road with grey upon grey shades of rock, even the sky was a dismal blur that gave no semblance of joy. But there was a small inkling of hope in the form of a butterfly that fluttered quietly behind him. Kotton knew exactly what he needed to do.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, conjuring a well of ether that resided deep within him. He directed the magic so that it collated directly in front of the child, just before the butterfly's path. He opened his eyes quickly and exhaled with a sharp grunt, dispelling his magic so that it heightened the angle of depth and dimension of the butterfly’s bright orange wings. He gave the butterfly’s wings a sense of extended depth so as to mimic various segments of shadow similar to that of bits and pieces falling off, like ashes. The wings shimmered graciously amidst the lacklustre sky. Every time the butterfly beat its wings, the black flecks that glimmered from the smallest ray of sun peeking through the clouds, exploded off its body, like dust.. He had utilised his aptitude of unrolling to capture this illusion.

Kotton smiled at his creation, proud of his work. He looked down at the girl. Her eyes were aghast. Not in horror, but shock. Although, a smile had yet to embellish her tiny face. He frowned and knitted his eyebrows in concern. What happened to this girl to make her so sad? He curled his lip into a frustrated snarl. He was not satisfied with his magical ability. He needed to make this girl smile even if he were to overstep.

Something better, he thought to himself. Going off of what had just been created, he concentrated on his environment. Reality began to bleed into imagination, the templates of what he had seen during his lifetime, insect-like specifically, starting to conjugate via images in his mind. He willed those images into a physical property before casting perspective. He wanted to conserve his energy, but also make his illusion more efficient.

He wrapped the ether around his preconceived illusion, expanding its size with artificially upheld dimensions, but not without the cost of its exposure and area of effectiveness. The butterfly still tried to disperse a sparkly dust, one that would have made anyone flabbergasted, but it faltered in and out of view, like the haze of heat one might see looking down the road during a humid day.

Kotton blinked rapidly, exhausted at the amount of energy it took him to perform such a feat. His eyes dragged slowly from the butterfly to the girl. He hoped her reaction was one he was looking for. Thankfully it was. Her eyes were wide open. They twinkled with amazement, but now they were paired with a soft smile. She had dimples- so cute. Kotton reciprocated the emotion, tilting his otherwise always downcast lips up into a grin.

“That’s amazing,” the girl said. Kotton’s grin expanded so as to reveal pearl-esque teeth.

“I’m vewy glad,” he said, nearly forgetting that he didn’t like speaking in front of others.

The girl stopped looking at the illusory butterflies and looked into Kotton’s hazel eyes. “You talk funny,” she chuckled.

He didn’t know what to do at first. His first reaction was: shit. But after giving his brain a moment to remain calm, he remembered who it was he was with. It didn’t matter what he sounded like. He had just made a sad girl very happy.

“Yea, I guess I do,” he replied, taking a seat on the ground beside her.

She turned to him and smiled some more. “My name is Trisha,” she declared, offering her hand. Kotton took it welcomingly. Being around this young lady made him feel a spark of confidence and its continuation to glow.

“It’s okay,” she continued. “I can’t read too well even though I’m almost eight.”

A particular spot in Kotton’s throat constricted. It was probably out of understanding, or embarrassment. Perhaps it was an accumulation of both. In light of that, his smile brightened. He felt a connection with Trisha. Whilst he wasn’t terrible at reading, speaking had surely always posed a challenge for him.

Kotton gestured his appreciation: Thank you, he signed. Then he gently took Trisha's hands and manipulated them so as to repeat his previous gesture. “This means thank you,” he announced, feeling even more confident than before.

The girl giggled and re-enacted the gesture almost perfectly. “Thank you,” she said as she signed.

Kotton smiled again and let his head fall back against the wall behind him. When he was a child, children had always seemed so cruel. Now, as he was older, children appeared to be a little less cynical. At least this one did.

“So you like buttewflies?” Kotton asked.

The girl turned to him. “Very much so. What's your name?” She let her head rest against Kotton’s shoulder- a stranger’s!

His eyebrows shot up in bewilderment. He felt a little uncomfortable at the sudden reproach. Yet after another moment’s contemplation, he relaxed. This was a unique feeling he hadn’t experienced before. His worry quickly gave way to feelings of acceptance and contentment.

“My name's Kotton.”
Last edited by Kotton on Fri Sep 29, 2023 9:16 pm, edited 2 times in total. word count: 1804
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Kotton
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Re: Butterflies

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Thread: Butterflies
City/Area: Scalvoris Town
Psychology x1
Glamour x9
Psychology: Relating Past Emotions to Someone Else’s Current Ones
Psychology: Learning From the Past | Giving Someone the Help You Never Received as a Kid
Glamour: Unrolling | Using Depth to Create an Extension of an Appendage that Seems to Sparkle
Glamour: Using Magic to Cheer Up a Woeful Child
Glamour: Perspective | Adjusting the Size of an Object at the Expense of its Realism
Glamour: Using a Butterfly as a Template for Enhancement Using Magic
Vanessa: A Sad Young Girl Who Loves Butterflies
Non-skill: Feeling Satisfied After Helping a Young Girl
Non-skill: Using Your Strengths to Brighten Someone’s Day


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Local Language Thread? Yes, Scalveen
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Feedback

Another fine vignette from Kotton. I appreciate your style as it translates to the use of magic, particularly glamour. You demonstrate a good understanding of how it works here, and I can''t complain with the results.

The little girl seemed appreciative enough, even if she was a bit insensitive about Kotton's speech impediment. It didn't occur to me that maybe Kotton's compensating senses (the ones not hearing) would possibly enhance his glamour. It's an interesting concept, and I look forward to seeing more of Kotton using magic!

Great writing!

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  • Renown: 5
  • XP: 10

Knowledges

  • Psychology: Relating Past Emotions to Someone Else’s Current Ones
  • Psychology: Learning From the Past | Giving Someone the Help You Never Received as a Kid
  • Glamour: Unrolling | Using Depth to Create an Extension of an Appendage that Seems to Sparkle
  • Glamour: Using Magic to Cheer Up a Woeful Child
  • Glamour: Perspective | Adjusting the Size of an Object at the Expense of its Realism
  • Glamour: Using a Butterfly as a Template for Enhancement Using Magic
  • Non-skill: A Sad Young Girl Who Loves Butterflies
  • Non-skill: Feeling Satisfied After Helping a Young Girl
  • Non-skill: Using Your Strengths to Brighten Someone’s Day
word count: 209

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