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Topic: ... forth from the Garden... Q&A
Subject: Just in time
Was bogged down with so much university reading hehe! But I made sure to get it up before you got back from the retreat this weekend.
Cristobal is going to search for Amora and ask her a couple questions to see if he can get any extra information that she might have. Unless she is outside with some of the other teachers I can change my post!
Fears
Posted on 2009-09-27 at 19:03:51.
Edited on 2009-09-27 at 19:05:53 by Fears
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Topic: ... forth from the Garden...
Subject: WTF!
Cristobal was discussing the current weather with one of the locals when he heard the high pitch screams of children followed by what sounded to be the crack of thunder just a few streets down. All of his attention quickly changed from the conversation to the noise. Cristobal had never heard a scream anything like that before. With a quick handshake and goodbye he dashed towards the school.
Rounding the corner he almost gagged at the site held before him. On the ground lay a burnt, smoldering corpse of what looked like to be a child. The disgusting smell that protruded off the body was that of burnt flesh. It was the most pungent smell Cristobal had ever smelt in his life. Already a crowd had gathered and Matias sat by himself; looking downwards motionless, tears streaming down his cheeks.
While the adults murmured amongst each other some of the children yelled out remarks.
"Murder!"
"Rico started it!"
Parents quickly hushed there children and began to back away cautiously.
After taking a couple steps towards the bubbling remains Cristobal recognized who the child was; it was Rico. A school bully who had no idea at his age what his actions could do to hurt someone's feelings. A strong wave of sadness swept through Cristobal, it was no secret that the Matias family was different, and the fact that Rico was so young and not unable to comprehend differences left Cristobal with mixed emotions about the incident.
Sirion emerged from the crowd and cautiously approached the boy. This gave Cristobal a strong appreciation for him. While everyone else whispered and did nothing Sirion had taken control of the situation. He noticed him calling for his sister to retrieve the boys parents, after a pause she dashed off towards the Prudencio farm.
Cristobal knew Rico and Matais' teacher, Amora Demetrio. She was well known as she taught the youngest grades. Surely she would have some insight on the situation. While Sirion dealt with the Matias, Cristobal would do a bit of investigating to see if he could find out whatever he could about this strange situation. Pulling away from the gathering he ran inside the school hoping to run into Amora. He would attempt to find out if any bad blood had boiled between the two children during the first day of school. With Matias in such a state of shock and being only a child his story would be hard to believe without some background history of todays events.
Fears
Posted on 2009-09-27 at 18:49:25.
Edited on 2009-09-27 at 19:04:28 by Fears
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Topic: ... forth from the Garden... Q&A
Subject: Sorry about the delay
My post is going to be up before tomorrow night!
Fears
Posted on 2009-09-24 at 05:23:45.
Edited on 2009-09-27 at 19:05:06 by Fears
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Topic: ... forth from the Garden... Q&A
Subject: In town
You can just assume that Cristobal is in the town, talking to the locals and offering free food while the kids are at school. As soon as he's done he plans to go back home and check on his father. Assuming nothing else happens.  *WINK WINK*
Posted on 2009-09-11 at 02:03:35.
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Topic: ... forth from the Garden...
Subject: Chapter One: Continued...
September 5th
8:30
Cristobal awoke with a slight headache. It seemed there might have been one to many drinks in the mix from the previous night at the Weary Warrior. It was the first day of school for the kids of Gefahr, normally Cristobal would have dreaded this day but seeing as he had already graduated, it was like any other. Hopping out of bed he stumbled over to his closet and put on a fresh shirt and a pair of pants. Putting a hand on his brow he wandered over to the mirror, this seemed to help the consistent drumbeat of pain that battered his forehead. His attention was then focused to the window. It was still stuck open but had begun to crack over the pressure from the ever slanting house. The sky was dark and ominous, a storm was clearly brewing and he hadn't seen anything like this for a long time.
Storms were one of Cristobals biggest fears, when he was but at the age of five he had gone for a walk with both his parents. They had wondered quite far from any recognizable landmarks when a storm emerged instantly. Thunder roared from above them and the sky shone from the streaks of lightning that filled the air. Being five Cristobal had never seen such a storm like this, let alone be caught out in the middle of it. The raindrops the size of gum balls pelted his face and his cries could not be heard over the banging of the thunder. They were stuck for 2 hours before they found a house they could reside in, Cristobal could only remember the intense cold and shivering, his mother wrapping him in multiple blankets and singing lullabies to try and calm him down.
Snapping back into reality Cristobal decided that he would get as much housework done as he could before the storm hit. He feared that the house was on its last limb and that the storm might take it down all together. Cristobal pulled on the door but it didn't budge, had the house slanted that much over a single night? After about 2 minutes of pulling and yanking on the handle the door finally swung open. With a sigh of relief he walked downstairs.
9:00
"How would you feel about leaving the house for tonight dad? Maybe stay at the inn until the storm passes, just incase something happens. The house isn't built like it once was". This struck a chord with Domingo and Cristobal regretted saying it aloud as soon as he did.
"The house will be here tomorrow, the day after that and the day after that!" his father replied bitterly, clearly remembering how it used to sparkle when Maribel was still around.
"I'm just saying... one night out of this place might do you a lot of good, I know the locals are just dying for you to a have a drink with them." This wasn't true at all but he knew that if his father went out the towns people would forgive him.
"No. If you don't think the house is stable enough to stand a little storm then you can walk yourself down to the tavern and stay there yourself!" And with a quick grunt he left the table to leave Cristobal by himself, trying to mull over how he might have changed the conversation.
10:00
After a light breakfast Cristobal went outside and looked up. When he had looked up at it in the morning he didn't think there was a darker shade of black, he was mistaken, it had gotten a lot darker. If he shut his eyes he didn't think he could tell the difference. However this was stranger than usual. There was no wind to go with the menacing clouds, it was perfectly calm. Knowing that this surely wouldn't last Cristobal spent the next couple hours harvesting the left over crops and loading them up. Preparing to bring them into town and offer to the locals free of charge, however always accepting donations. After acquiring quite a healthy stack he loaded up his bags and trotted into town. Before leaving taking a quick glance at the house. It looked terrible, the side boards seemed like they were about to split in two, what was his father doing. Surely he wasn't blind... if only the man wasn't so darn stubborn Cristobal thought to himself. If the house did survive the winter next year he would begin to rebuild it. Even if it was just by himself, he would spend all summer working on it.
Posted on 2009-09-11 at 01:55:10.
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Topic: ... forth from the Garden... Q&A
Subject: First post from myself
I threw my first post up, I had to cut it a little short as I'm off to work but I think its sufficient enough for right now. I may add another post with the evening and bar scene tonight but I'll see how I'm feeling! 
Looking forward to reading everyone else's Day in the Life! I would like to be able to come back and read the previous posts like I would a good book!
Fears
Posted on 2009-09-06 at 16:33:29.
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Topic: ... forth from the Garden...
Subject: Cristobals Entrance
Sunday, September 4th
8:00 am
Cristobal found himself standing in the middle of the Revera field. His decrepit, crumbling house behind had toppled over. The only thing that lay amongst the scrap of molding wood was the memories of his childhood. The rain pelted his face as he stared at two objects on the ground. Both of which were tombstones. One read, Maribel Revera. This was not surprising to Cristobal, he had seen it before on many occasions. The other one however was. It read, Domingo Revera, his father. Cristobal did not know how to feel about this as his relationship with his dad had become very complicated after the passing of his mother. He continued to stare the graves before him as the torrent of rain threw itself against him. He had nowhere to go, his house lay in shambles.
Time passed very slowly for the next few hours, thunder could be heard consistently following the bright flashes in the sky. This frightened Cristobal and he decided to find some sort of shelter. The moment he turned from the tombs it was if someone had flicked a switch and the world went black.
Suddenly he was in a small boat, caught in the middle of a huge maelstrom. Wave upon wave hammered against the insufficient wooden ship. They grew bigger and bigger, finally capsizing him. With no idea how to swim Cristobal sank to the bottom where all became dark once more.
-cock-a-doodle-doo-
-cock-a-doodle-doo-
Cristobal awoke with a start to the sound of the family rooster, his body and blanket drenched with sweat. He remembered the dream and cursed himself for having it again. It was the fifth time in the last week. A cold breeze rolled through the ajar window and was only intensified hitting the perspiration on his skin.
"I've got to fix that..." he mumbled to himself, jumping out of bed and putting on some clothes. Cristobal had a matt of messy brown hair atop his head. No matter how much work was done it could never be straightened. His eyes were a deep brown that matched his tanned skin quite nicely, the hot sweltering son had taken quite a toll on him throughout his work in the field.
The Revera farm was about three acres of the land, and slapped right in the middle of that land was the Revera household. Back in the day it had shined with the coat of fresh paint and the aroma of wonderful stews could be smelt three farms over. But no more did this structure sparkle. Within the last three years the paint had peeled off, it had taken a hard slant and was on the verge of collapsing. It stank of rotten wood and decomposing crops. Whatever wasn't stored was now just left to rot. Cristobal took it upon himself to try and harvest what he could and give it to those in town who needed it for the upcoming winter, learning from his mother that generosity could take you much farther than greed ever could.
8:30 am
Cristobal walked downstairs to see his father already at the table, eyes lost in a book. "Morning pop", Cris said cheerfully to his dad, grabbing a glass of water and a slice of bread. His father looked up at him and was about to say something when he was cut off by the sound of the rooster.
-cock-a-doodle-doo-!
Grabbing a hatchet from the wall he walked out the back door right towards the rooster cage. Cristobal didn't mind, it was about bloody time the thing was put down anyways and he had no desire to confront his dad with a sharp weapon in his hand. After downing his water and cramming a couple slices of bread into his mouth he spent the rest of the morning fixing loose ends around the house. Every day more problems would arise then he could handle. The floorboards had begun to rot, the house was falling over, windows and doors could no longer easily be opened, and the list dragged on and on It was almost as if the house had given up on life, just like his father.
1:00 pm
After spending a couple of hours on the house Cristobal decided to get away from the farm and his father; whose mood did not seem to improve over the murdering of the family rooster. Throwing his guitar over his back and shoving his flute in his pocket he took a light jog down the country road into town humming a little tune as he went. While in town, Cristobal enjoyed talking to the locals from topics like the weather, to the new school year. At first people would bring up his father but after finding that it was a soft spot they started avoided bringing it up all together. Cristobal enjoyed talking to Duarte the most, owner of one of the two general stores within the town, his knowledge was expansive on almost every issue they talked about and Cristobal would get lost in the words he spoke.
Cristobal stopped in the other general store as well, greeting Alamaro with a huge grin. He knew the nicer he appeared to be the better deal he could grab on a few items he needed for jobs around the house. Cristobal needed everything he could spare, there family had become very poor after the death of their mother; who had dealt with all selling/trading of their crops. After purchasing what was needed to he decided to sit under a tree and plan a set for tonight at the tavern. One of the only things he did enjoy was playing his instruments for the drunken locals on weekends and having drinks with his friend Sirion, as the sun began to set and evening was upon him he walked down the street towards the Weary Warrior, opened the door and walked inside, ready to give the people of Gefhar quite the show.
Fears
Posted on 2009-09-06 at 15:58:26.
Edited on 2009-09-06 at 16:33:49 by Fears
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Topic: ... forth from the Garden... Q&A
Subject: Fantastic!
Glad to see we are getting the ball rolling! Really enjoyed reading your first post! Everything is good on my end so far.
Fears
Posted on 2009-09-05 at 05:47:25.
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