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Posted: Sun Sep 01, 2019 12:30 am
by L.L.
I was writing this story for a while. It is a concept I created, called didactic humour, where the elf has the ability to age himself, at his or her own will, according to the quality of the joke they make. The are able to decrease or increase their age, a good joke decreases their age, and if their joke is bad enough they can die, equally if their joke is good enough they can turn themselves into their totem animal spirit, and they go off into the wild. I had this idea, that three elves became politicians, in this spirit, and had to control their ageing, called parley. The main character, were a young elf, and the others, his protectors. Would you like to attempt the life of living between recreation and politics?

Tule walked over the walk, to the front gates of the castle, wishing to see the queen. He had been romancing her, with gifts of his company, for the sake of tea and biscuits, for the better parts of the winter months. The foreshadowing of his coming of age, were growing less and less prevalent, as he was in the company of a witless hag, and in the presence of a lacklustre libido, and his parley were strong and tight.
His hair, were short and brown, but his ears, were covered by the spikes. He was one hundred years old, but came as a teenager, and the queen were well aware of the elves, as she were part elf herself, but could only sustain herself in a perpetual old age, it seemed.
The guard, were on his guard, and he looked a little frightened, of the heavenly vision of Tule, as he were an old man, in the gut.
"Would you let me in, Reginald?" Tule took out a cigarette, and began to wave it in the guards face. The guard smiled, opening the gates, whilst Tule walked in, the breeze changing his face, as he were a little perplexed. He flicked the cigarette into the air, and it were caught, to the remedying of the ageing, and his hair rustled in the wind.
The gardens, were well kept, and the smells were of honey. Looking like a wisdom, a small child walked about the mazes for an hour, and then the clock struck the lunch hour, and an old man walked into the keep. It were a mystery as to where these fellows had got off to, but it were in an elves best interest to keep its secret, so any ageing were done behind closed doors. A tremble were within his gut, as he looked about, expecting to see another elf, where the ageing were always more accurate. That were why parley were so much easier amongst humans, they just weren't correct enough. Tule went searching, for the tremble in his gut, and came across a woman, singing a song to the weaving of a harp's web. She looked up, and were frozen in time for what seemed like an aeon, then her beauty succumbed, and she gathered her hand for Tule to sit, on the ottoman besides her. Tule asked about her day, and kept his mouth shut tight, to prolong the parley, and decrease the possibility of his ageing.

Join in, Bmat.

Re: Elf

Posted: Sun Sep 01, 2019 7:33 am
by Bmat
LOL! What an interesting concept, and one I hadn't seen before. I couldn't possibly join in, but thank you for the invitation. Please continue your story.

Re: Elf

Posted: Sun Sep 01, 2019 10:22 am
by L.L.