SGMSoultamer

Sonja · @SGMSoultamer

20th Nov 2013 from TwitLonger

@Cret92 "You've come for the train?" Behind the closed, heavy doors, maps laid unfurled across the floor. Sparks from the growing flames to the left of the visitor expertly landed between pages of parchment and papyrus, lifting and falling as he tip-toed over the creaking floorboards. He was clad in violet, eyes uncovered and glaring at every moving object. In him was a feeling of absolute right to fear as such, especially with the fire intensifying, feasting on the local wood and expelling the smell of smoke and Trogg-native poisons nullified by the heat.

The Commodore, in his proud doggishness, sat in one of the last uncovered places in the office; a creaking, three-legged stool placed before a large table covered in annotated papers half-signed and laden with dust. In one paw, he rested his head, the other one tapping on the table. From what the visitor remembered, it was just off-beat to a tune that he had caught the dog humming every so often. Yet, as the visitor remembered the trauma he had effortlessly sailed away from, his motives shifted back.

"No," he said, impatience dripping from his scowl towards the ceiling, "I've come here _to_ train. The havoc in Mooshu is -"

"Norgrim," the Commodore warned, setting a tone of hope in the visitor. At the very least, a remembered name signaled progression. "As I was saying, a train has not been established here, and the system of such has -" Norgrim sighed and twiddled his thumbs, waiting for the Commodore to finish his likely practiced monologue. The dog knew the topic of rail transportation as well as an expert would, Norgrim understood. His words came slowly, as if they were practiced from a book.

"But, the population shone like a pelican," the Commodore concluded, wrapping up a tale with mumbled lines and forgotten adjectives scattered throughout. A flying spark had rendered a dark hole in a map too close.

"Merciful Norgrim, are you not?" the dog asked, furrowing his overgrown brow, "I can't see as well as I -"

"Yes, I am," Norgrim sighed, folding his arms. "I think I'll return some other day."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." And then silence. The fire took a turn to speak, crackling its despair. The Buccaneers practicing just a room to the right were earthquakes in themselves, shaking glass ornaments stored in a glass case just out of arm's reach. The Commodore glanced up from a paper that he had been turned down to face.

"You know, I've heard of techniques involving one dog's speech, ten-twenty years farther." Norgrim raised an eyebrow. "His words raised his crew of four to act with brilliant skill for many an hour. And do you know what he said?"

---

Prompt from Merciless Morgrim - "The Commodore"

In this prompt, I decided to mix in the style of a blogger outside of this community whose works I read and look up to. Her style is quite different from mine, but her descriptions were so vivid that I had to give it a try.

Edited with EditMinion http://editminion.com/

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