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+---- Thread: [open quest] Summer school 2019 - geography and music (/showthread.php?tid=24533)
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RE: Summer school 2019 - geography and music - Cyprin - 08-14-2019
Cyprin listens and watches as the participants step forward and perform their own territorial descriptions. Her eyes twinkle with fascination as she tries to decipher each one until it is her own turn.
Many have sung, but her shyness hinders her.
So, instead, she stands in front of everyone and relays her poem for all to hear.
<i>” Granite cliffs and black sand,
It is the northern tip of the mainland.
Land of the women is what I hear,
So sit down and listen my dear.
The coastal breeze has me all a-twitter
Because its frigid cold is so bitter.
But it’s survival of the fittest here.
Here in this land where women steer.
Beneath the perilous rocky ledges
Lie caves where you can make pledges.
Only the fiercest woman can survive,
So many will dodge and dive.
Some caverns can be seen from afar,
While others are extra bizarre.
They lie in wait under the tide,
To show you their hidden pride.
Behold the bioluminescent bay,
And see why some wait all day.
Here, a matriarchal system reigns,
But don’t be deterred if you have brains.
Witty and tough,
And maybe a little gruff.
This is where the wild women play.
If you think you can hang with the fiercest,
And be one of their ablest,
Then take a leap into the land of women
Where it will become your new Eden.”</i>
Her breaths are fluid between some lines, taking advantage of the pauses to draw in more air and resume her rhythmic lines in a honeyed, sing-song voice. Every lines rolls like silk past her lips until the ending arrives and leaves her in silence. With a nod of her head and a smile, she swiftly returns to her group, awaiting the others.
RE: Summer school 2019 - geography and music - Cassian - 08-14-2019
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Source+Serif+Pro|Reenie+Beanie&display=swap" rel="stylesheet"><style>#cassian{ width:368px; border:1px solid #44555d; box-shadow:0px 0px 10px #44555d;}#cassianpic{ position:relative; z-index:0;}#cassianwrapper{ position:relative; z-index:1; background:-webkit-linear-gradient(bottom, rgba(149,171,168,0), rgba(149,171,168,1)140px); background:-o-linear-gradient(top, rgba(149,171,168,0), rgba(149,171,168,1)140px); background:-moz-linear-gradient(bottom, rgba(149,171,168,0), rgba(149,171,168,1)140px); background:-linear-gradient(to top, rgba(149,171,168,0), rgba(149,171,168,1)140px); background:-ms-linear-gradient(bottom, rgba(149,171,168,0), rgba(149,171,168,1)140px); padding-top:20px; padding-bottom:40px; margin-bottom:-158px;}#cassiantext{ font-family: 'Source Serif Pro', serif; font-size:13px; color:#222e34; padding:25px; padding-bottom:35px; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px}#cassianquote{ font-family: 'Reenie Beanie', cursive; font-size:20px; color:#ffffff; line-height:16px; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:-12px; padding:4px; position:relative;}#cassianname{ font-family: 'Reenie Beanie', cursive; font-size:50px; color:#ffffff; opacity:0.8; margin-top:-55px; margin-bottom:10px; margin-right:10px;}</style><center><div id="cassian"><div id="cassianwrapper"><p id="cassianquote">gotta do it in the penthouse<br>that's where I keep my pen<p id="cassiantext" align="justify">Who would have ever imagined Cassian going to school? Not him, that’s for sure. But he’d been bored. And, well, the timing had been convenient. Of course, he should’ve known better. But then, no one had ever accused him of being the brightest bulb in the box. Honestly, school is probably the best thing he could be doing.
Unfortunately it does not take long for the fact that he is <i>not</i> a good student to become glaringly clear. One can only hope teacher Tir is up to the task of teaching such a knob-headed young boy.
It doesn’t take long for him to grow bored. Unfortunately, a bored Cassian is a certain recipe for shenanigans. He does try at least. When they’re split off into groups, he follows his two partners dutifully. Lilli is quick to claim her land, though Cassian doesn't much mind. Of course, she's pretty, but that didn't have anything to do with it at all. And definitely not the way she flushes when he teases her, shyly demuring as though she's never really been flirted with before. He might've developed that connection a little more, except that she's soon much too engrossed with Olver. Seems the poor chap can't talk, and she's agreed to sing for him.
After that, it doesn’t take long for him to start glancing around, twiddling his proverbial thumbs as he entirely fails to remember that he, too, should be coming up with a poem. In fact, he’s rather distracted, plucking leaves off a tree, by the time the class is called back together to perform their pieces.
Oh, crap. <i>Crap, crap, crap, crap.</i>
Looking around a little wildly, he shuffles back over with the rest of them. Unfortunately for poor Cassian, they’re being beckoned to perform their songs before he can even begin to whisper hasty pleas to his partners.
Oops.
Well, luckily for all, Cassian has a quick enough tongue. A little too much of his father perhaps. Naturally, he does what boys will do, and when it’s his turn, he steps forward to sing in a rather pleasant tenor with an impish little smile splashed across his features, the improvised stanza’s spilling much too easily from his lips.
<i>In your crystal clear waters, we let our toasty hooves dip
To watch the mermaids frolic and play, oh what a trip!
As the palm trees sway, as the palm trees sway,
Their naked beauty glistens, and forward I hasten.
Because what could be better, than a beckoning behest
And a sweet pair of… fins?
But as the palm trees sway, as the palm trees sway,
I learn how mine own eyes deceive
For what is there that I did not perceive?
Hairy mermen who appreciate not my advances.
I wonder then if they worry for their regrettable little… lances.
So as the palm trees sway, as the palm trees,
I do choose to retreat, past the strange old sign baking in the heat,
for fish food I don’t wish to be, I’m really not tasty to eat!
Across the white sands I do flee as their shouts ring behind me.
As the palm trees sway, as the palm trees sway,
I must pause to wonder in the wake of my discovery
Is this truly paradise, or a trap for poor saps like me?</i>
</p><p id="cassianname" align="right">Cassian</p></div><div id="cassianpic"><img src="https://i.postimg.cc/05MjqdY9/Cas.jpg"/></div></div></center>