Eladis

Take a Number II (Closed)

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Bir swooned at Szordrin-- or rather, at Eladis-- who in his mind, was replaced by Szordrin. All those blood knights were the same anyhow. Most of the women in his life were the same as well. Evanthe and Malorii were just like twins! So they must have been the same, in secret. Just like him and Trevyn!

"You should ask him to give me a hug."

Trevyn stared down at a green bag and seemed to be suffering once again. He curled his fingers against the material of it and a disgusting ooze slurped out the opening of the sack. It honestly smelled putrid.

"NASTY! IT'S NASTY-- OH NO YOU'RE HURTING NASTY! WHY ARE YOU HURTING NASTY?!"

Bir ran over to Trevyn, sitting next to him to pick the divided ooze up in his palms.

"Oh-- Oh Nasty, are you alright? You'll be ok, I promise!"

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Eladis winced a bit as he watched the elf undergo another odd seizure. He stood upright to put his gauntlets back in place, buckling them tight with a metallic click. The top bunk covered whatever it was he was looking for and he had learned over time, that asking Bir what he was doing behind the safety of his bunk bed was an awful thing to do. A terrible thing, in fact.

Instead, he stood there and waited. Somewhere off in the distance a woman screamed. In a city like Shattrath that could have meant anything from pleasure to scourge, apparently. It was a place of all colors and all merit and it was silly to question it. And despite having every type there, it was divided into two sides. Aldor, and Scryer.

Slowly, the little elf started sobbing again. He shivered and whined, turning right around to roll over the bottom bunk to lay on it. Bir's torso twisted as he outstretched his arms to Eladis. He stopped crying once Eladis bent forward. Then, he withdrew, holding his oozeling against his chest, effectively ruining any chance that it his shirt was clean at all.

In the calmest voice possible, Eladis inquired. "Bir..? What have you got there..? Is it Nasty?"

The little elf gave a rapid nod at that, he held his arms out once again to show off the ooze. "He's hurt. Trevyn killed him."

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Trevyn looked around slowly, finding himself in a happy pink room. His face contorted with disgust and he snapped his fingers. The room returned to normal. Completely normal, so normal, in fact, Eladis was even Eladis again. He stood casually to look around at the bunk bed.

"Bir, did you know that they have bunk beds in internment camps? This one is probably Lordaeron made, in fact. I worked there, once. Sometimes people have lots of bunk beds in their houses, so when they have too many kids the kids have somewhere to sleep. I never liked bunk beds. I was an only child."

In the calmest voice possible, Eladis inquired. "Bir..? What have you got there..? Is it Nasty?"

Bir sniffled a bit as the room was far too normal now. A nod bobbed his head and he outstretched his palms, ooze and blood dripping from his hands. "He's hurt. Trevyn killed him."

Eladis frowned a bit at that, "Oh no. Well, do you know what could fix that?"

Trevyn gave a sardonic snort. "I know what could fix it.."

Bir opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. He repeated this several times before shaking his head. Both of the voices confused him greatly. He had no clue what would fix Nasty. But he remembered something, perhaps.

Trevyn stood in front of Bir with an Eladis-like smile. He abruptly turned into Aquizit. "Nasty fixes himself, Bir. Don't you remember? One time I threw him off a building and he exploded into a zillion pieces-- but he always came back. Remember?"

Bir looked down at the ooze, tilting his head and expecting it to come together right away. He was horrified to figure out the room really was too normal and everything was real again.

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Eladis blinked a bit, awaiting a reply. He repeated himself, "Nasty fixes himself, Bir."

Bir shook violently, throwing the ooze off his fingers. Then, he noticed he was bleeding. He wrinkled his nose a bit at the blood and sucked on one of his fingers. The metallic taste wasn't as metallic as it ought to be. "What fixes Birs then if Nasties fix themselves?"

Eladis wanted to laugh at that but couldn't find the heart. Instead, he beckoned the elf over with a wave and opened a medical kit he often used. There was an assortment of things inside, ranging from calipers to tourniquets. Anything an often sick being would need. He took small tweezers from the bag and held them out to the elf.

"Do you remember how to do this..?"

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Bir's head moved as if propelled by a force unseen, he nodded. His mouth opened several times as if he were speaking but no words came. He looked up as quickly as he could. The voice in his head was something that was very very difficult to ignore.

Trevyn continued to maneuver Bir's mouth, speaking in a mocking tone-- which he actually had down to every last syllable. "Do you remember how to shut your mouth you stupid man? Trevyn, I didn't know Eladis was a stupid man. He's so stupid I bet he thinks you're a moron!"

Bir's brow creased at this and he lowered his eyes from the imaginary man to the tweezers in front of him. "Yeah, I think."

Trevyn laughed a bit at that, turning away from the scene with disdain for a simple mind. Then, the walls melted. They gurgled and popped, sizzled and foamed, until they turned a bright putrid green. Spikes unlike the ones on a warlock's armor sprung, then melted. Control was not something Trevyn Conley should have, ever.

All warlocks are insane, Trevyn.

The warlock turned towards the elf, tilting his head. "I was a Magister, once."

Eladis leaned forward, offering the tweezers to the little elf once again. "Bir..? Would you like me to do it..?"

Bir jumped back at that, looking around for a way out of the sizzling room around him. His little eyes went wide as two saucers as the knight before him gurgled and sizzled as well. It looked like he was burning alive. But still, he offered the tweezers and sounded just fine. "Bir..? Are you feeling-- The nurse should have come a long time ago, huh.."

Bir jittered, twitching his head to look over at the other elf. "Well I didn't mean to take you, I meant to take me..."

Eladis took the elf's hand in his, carefully plucking the splinters from under his short nails. He gave a short, calm nod. "What did you take, Bir..?"

Trevyn burnt and sizzled too, he burnt away until he was no more.. Even among the disgust his mind had made around him, he felt better to have the voice away. The words themselves chilled Bir and he wanted nothing to do with the elf. Burning wasn't scary anyway.

"Nothing. But did you know that Carmensita set me on fire, one time? She set me on fire with a torch because I think I called her a whore. I didn't mean it, though. I don't think I ever said it."

Eladis plucked a splinter from the rogue's pinky, nodding. "Who said it then, Bir..?"

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(( I know this is closed, but I cannot pass by without saying how much I am in awe of this story. :D ))

(( You haven't even appeared in it yet! Just wait just wait! ))

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Trevyn appeared right behind the paladin. This time, he looked just like someone else Bir knew. Someone with a large hood and a pointy dagger. For some reason the man lacked his usual pointed ears.

"ELADIS WAIT! ARESTOR'S GOING TO SLIT YOUR THROAT! RUN ELADIS! RUN! ARESTOR STOP IT! STOP!"

Eladis paused completely. He took the tweezers from the elf's thumb and slowly backed away. This was something that had potential to get messy. He went for his axe once again, holding it at the ready. These things were most awkward for the man to partake in. "..Where is he, Bir?"

Bir pointed in horror, "RIGHT BEHIND YOU! RIGHT-- RIGHT-- HE'S GETTING YOUR HEAD!"

Arestor, or rather, Trevyn, cut the paladin's head off. Clear off, with a dagger. He held the head to Bir and it suddenly turned into someone else's. It turned into a troll. Not any troll, Bir knew this troll.

A voice came from under the hood, ringing in Bir's ears. "I hate trolls, Bir. Do you know why..?"

Bir sighed, shoulders sagging. It stopped being exciting because Eladis continued to look around. He had no head but he was still frantic to abide by Bir's rules. "Bir, where is he?"

Bir waved a hand, shaking his head with a funny smile. "Hahah! Eladis you're silly, he already took your head."

Eladis reached up to feel where his head would be. As expected, the troll's head spoke to Bir in a calm Eladis-like voice. "He did, did he? Then how am I still talking?"

The little elf twisted and turned in a fit of happy laughter. "I don't know! But your head is Jeedup's now and I think you might do something great! Do a dance, Eladis!"

Eladis' body calmed more, and he set his axe next to a burnt chair. "I'm not going to do a dance, Bir. That's silly. Why don't I read you a story, instead? You love stories, don't you?"

Bir nodded frantically, "Mmhm! I love stories! You always tell the best stories, too."

Eladis smiled, or rather-- Jeedup's head smiled. "What sort of story would you like to hear? Who am I right now, Bir..?"

Arestor rolled his eyes at the display before turning back into Trevyn.

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Bir sighed a bit as the troll's head fell to the floor. It rolled around, but kept on talking with Eladis' voice. To Bir, this was amazingly entertaining. "Who am I Bir? How am I going to tell you a good story if I don't know who I am..?"

"You're Jeeeee'dup! Or was it Jeed'up? Jed'um'p? I don't know, he's a troll who likes to dance a lot!"

Jeedup's tongue came out to wet its lips before he continued, Eladis' voice dropped several levels. "You know how I feel about trolls, Bir."

Bir tilted his head a bit at that, unable to fathom or remember what it was that Eladis thought of trolls. "Yeah, trolls have a lot of culture. That's what you've always said, right?"

Jeedup rolled his eyes but still wore a fantastically bright smile. Eladis, however, did not sound happy. "Yes, Bir. Trolls have a lot of culture."

Bir clapped happily as the smiling face proclaimed this. "Well, what are you waiting for? I want a story about dancing trolls!"

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Eladis licked his lips a bit before a long sigh escaped him. This never worked properly unless he opened a book. And thus, he opened the book he read from last night. "Fine, dancing trolls it is. There was once a troll named Zetsuei and he loved to dance. He danced all the time, everywhere he went. He danced in Tempest Keep, he danced in Serpant Shrine Cavern. His dancing would make Torium very angry-- you remember Torium..?"

Bir pointed frantically, "You're cheating! You're cheating you're cheating! That's the Jern-book from last night with the armies and stuff! I can see the letters on it! And one time you told me a story about Torium. Why don't I tell YOU a story, huh?"

Eladis closed the book with a long sigh. "Bir, using my imagination isn't cheating. And, there's nothing about Jern in this book. At all. There never was. Where did you get the idea Jern was in this book..?"

Bir tilted his head, looking down at the ground as if he saw something there. "I told you, didn't I? I swore I already did. I read that book before."

Eladis placed the book on the table gently, next to his medical kit. "You did, did you? Why didn't you say anything about it last night, then..?"

Bir jerked and twitched a little, backing away from whatever he was talking to on the floor. "I thought I did, before I went to sleep! I said Jern was a meanie and he's really boring."

Eladis shook his head a bit. "You did not. But, tell me this story about Torium."

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Bir scooted up to the Jeedup head, smiling just as wide as it was. The Jeedup head looked around, eyes staring up at the man who had made his way behind Bir. The little elf hadn't noticed him. Trevyn was an annoyance, not company.

"Welll~ Elllaaaadis! I was runnin' around in Shadowmoon Vallley, riiiiiight...?" The Jeedup head's tongue rolled out of his mouth and he tried to make evil dead faces. It didn't exactly work out for him.

The Jeedup head replied, "Riiiight..? And? What happened? That's not a good way to start a story Bir. You should think a little harder, where were you in Shadowmoon Valley..?"

Bir tapped his chin a bit, scooting closer to the head to pick it up. Once he could not, he figured out it wasn't real. This saddened him greatly. "Is Jeedup dead, Eladis?"

The Jeedup head started laughing, "What? I shouldn't think so. I haven't seen him in some time, but I doubt he is dead Bir."

Bir looked down at the head, then back up at Eladis' burnt headless body. He stared where there should have been an Eladis-head. "Oh. Well, good. Anyway. I was in the mines in the south south part of that place and then after that we got some eggs and Torium said, NO STOP BIR THAT'S MY EGG GIVE IT BACK! And then I killed an alliance."

"With more imagination, Bir." Eladis rolled his eyes, smirking. Oddly, Bir saw this. Everything scary around him dissolved.

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Jern walked into the infirmary with a gruff expression. He raised his eyes up, looking at the broken scenery. He turned around, eying an Aldor nurse. Without a single word he tossed Eladis a horn. It looked like a horn which might call a black wolf.

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Eladis heard the horn strike the table as the orc tossed it. His glowing green eyes-- which spoke of fel and other unspeakable sins, were silent. They were not fierce, they were not vibrant, they were nothing short of what they were.

The dimly glowing eyes of the sin'dorei.

There were no words to give to the orc. He seemed offended. Whatever he was offended for, Eladis would never ask. A man of such a social standard, a man who lacked such in any way-- was noble, on his own accord.

Rather than speak, he said nothing. Patience was not a Virtue that smiled upon everyone, but it smiled upon Eladis when the orc turned and left.

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Bir heard a loud clang, then a sigh. He looked this way and that, unable to find anything of any reason or meaning.. This meant he was alone. When you were alone, you could do anything you wanted to do and there was never anyone around to tell you that you couldn't do it.

He stood up. Looking this way and that. Nurses were talking. They were doing something. Then, he saw them! They weren't draenei, oh no. Draenei were scary. Bir had never much liked Draenei even if Eladis always did. Eladis was a funny man who spoke in his dreams a lot, but the words never ever made sense to him.

For some reason Eladis was always talking about all sorts of different funny things, things that wouldn't normally make sense.

Then Bir realized where he was and who he was.

He was nobody, nowhere.

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Eladis lowered his voice to reply to the nurse, speaking in a tongue she could understand. "I've always hated it when he does this."

The nurse, bewildered that the man had finally spoken for once, replied, "When who does what?"

Eladis turned to look up at her with a funny lop sided smirk, "When Bir Romine decides to sleep. He would sleep forever if he could. He's always loved that orc, you know. I never knew the orc's name. I don't think Bir ever even asked. He just called him orc, because that is what the orc wanted to be called."

The nursed turned, blinking her wide luminescent eyes. Surely she must have been someone special to have such a blaring gift such as eyes. As everyone knew, eyes were the window to one's soul. She spoke very slowly, as if the man were disabled, "I did not see any orc, sir Vant."

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Trevyn Conley walked up to where Bir was asleep. He tilted his head a bit, examining the man as he hunched over him. His earrings, which he always wore-- were gone. He had never noticed that he forgot to put them in his other ear.

But he wasn't dreaming. Why wasn't he dreaming? Trevyn dropped to the ground and pulled his knees right up to his chest. His eyes looked one way, then the other. Someone was talking but he wasn't sure who it was.

Trevyn Conley never wanted to know who Eladis Vant was, ever. When he spoke in a different language, he could never understand him and it was something he found terribly depressing.

The warlock, sometimes rogue, zippy toed over to the man, bringing his brow up very high. He imagined lines were following him, dotted, gashed lines. Thus depicted in things Bir Romine almost drew. He never once understood why the little elf had stopped drawing.

Perhaps he had taken something one step too far.

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Errigal Simeon Camille wore a scowl under his bright red beserker's helmet. He wasn't sure why but he was unhappy. He was always unsure about being unhappy. He walked in Shattrath, not bothering to look at anyone else around him. A little voice in his head spoke up, it sounded like a little elf girl,

Perhaps some people are worth staring at.

Then, he paused. A haunt from his past lurked over his shoulder. This wasn't something he liked. He took off Herod's Shoulder and placed it on the ground. Then he took off his helmet and he examined it.

Ever, ever so slowly, he started to laugh.

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Bir walked by that man- Errigal Simeon Camille- he was staring at him with big wide eyes. Not the wide eyes of a child's curiosity, no. He looked at that man with the eyes of a scared, scared child.

His hair had changed. It was no longer long and red, but- he had seen him before. This was not the man he thought it was, not at all. This man had the very same face of a man who burnt him and hurt him long ago.

He had sat with this man in Strangler-Thorn-Vale.

He had sat with this man in Shattrath.

This man broke his arm.

Everything around him was so entirely real, so he screamed.

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Eladis brought both of his eyebrows up at that. He had been busy staring at A'dal. Every day he brought Bir to A'dal but Bir never really looked at the naaru. He would, for but a moment, then he would look away.

Sometimes it wasn't very important to understand everything.

But then, Bir screamed. He screamed and he cried but this time he didn't put his face in his hands. He was screaming and crying at that-- Scarlet? Why would such a little elf scream at a Scarlet? ..Prejudice, perhaps.

Eladis did not question the elf, but instead, he walked as quietly as he could. He went up behind the little screaming-- rogue? Warlock? Who knew. He unintentionally shuddered on his words.

"Bu-- Tr-- Co-- what's wrong..?"

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Bir turned to Eladis, he looked just as crazed as the man laughing at the helmet. How come he couldn't laugh at a helmet like that? Bir could never laugh at something someone made. A blacksmith somewhere made that helmet! They made that helmet red and they respected that helmet!

..And that shoulder too. Where did he see that shoulder?

Kovan--Szordrin--Eladis struggled for words. "What's wrong?"

Bir pointed, and spoke plain as day in Thalassian. "I can speak common but I don't want to talk to that guy! Why is he laughing at that helmet! The helmet didn't do anything to him, ever! Why is he laughing at it?!"

Eladis blinked, very, very slowly. He wasn't quite sure either but that man was a human, clearly. He looked exactly like one. To the very last touch of his crimson curled hair to his vibrant green eyes. He wore a Scarlet tabard. "Bir, he is Scarlet."

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Treyn examined that man as well.

Bir that man hurt you.

The little blacked haired elf stopped screaming and crying. He quit doing it just at the moment he had the thought. Bir nodded, very, very slowly. Just like Eladis! But he didn't realize he was. He didn't see Trevyn anywhere so clearly Trevyn didn't exist.

Bir that man is a warlock. You sat with him in a tavern once.

Bir gave a very very slow nod with that, unable to understand it completely but his head was telling him this so it must have been right.

Bir that man is not a warlock anymore. Keep walking.

"Bir, he is Scarlet."

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Errigal turned his head quickly, eyes going just as wide as Bir's. His eyes were green as well, though not in the same way Bir's were. His eyes were green because he was so jealous of that little elf. He was the most beautiful elf in the world.

"Keep your retards in check, you stupid fucking paladin."

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With that, Eladis put his hands over Bir's eyes and lead him away.

Bir struggled in his grip and wriggled, he wanted to see. He kicked and screamed and he kept on doing it; he wanted to see! He wanted to see so badly he grabbed Eladis' arms and then; an uncontrolled bout of magic, a large fire; an immolate, burst up his arms.

Eladis did not cringe. Rather, he let one of Bir's arms go, then he went up and covered one of his ears.

Bir did not like this so he let his immolate explode into a conflagration on the paladin's arms.

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