Dartho (not based on my old RPG)

haha. Man, my stupidity never ceases to amuse me..:p

Yes, I have to agree with that too..:p

lol...ditto. :D

lol...I'm mostly an agreeable type person to agree with...lol.
Hmm, wonder what The Illustrator is gonna give Tabitha? lol.
 
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Your just asking these questions just to torture me with anxiety and the suspense....:p

lol...well, it seems to work...and makes my story more interesting.. :D

Yes, who is the gentlemen who wears fancy clothes?

What or who is this Shadow that Tabitha thinks is after her?

When will Ben appear again?

And what happened to Fred Jenkins (the boy who had told Tabitha about The Illustrator's past years ago)?
 
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Okay.:p Thanks for understanding...:p
*waits with Mya*

boy, I'm surprised I have patience for this....:p

lol....why are you surprised?

(Chapter 5, part 3)


The Illustrator's face beamed as he picked up an item that was buried beneath his mounds of old parchment.
He turned to Tabitha and she stopped moving forward, glancing at the thing that was in The Illustrator's hand.
It was a small trinket, a gold-looking necklace chain with a cresent moon formed from iron.
Tabitha glanced at the necklace in The Illustrator's hand as it dangled from the chain and swayed slightly in the wind.
"I found this in an old book, rather an odd place for a piece of metal, I thought. But, at any rate, since I have no use for it, you may as well take it, my dear," stated The Illustrator to Tabitha and held out his hand with the necklace.
Tabitha did not know what to say, it seemed like such an extravagent thing to give, though most likely it only cost two pounds forty at a local shop.
Reaching out, Tabitha cupped her hands beneath The Illustrator's right hand and he let go of the necklace, letting it drop into Tabitha's out-stretched hands with ease.
Tabitha felt the cool metal within her palms, feeling the slight weight before bringing her hands in to rest by her chest, as if in Prayer.
Tabitha held one part of the necklace chain with one hand and another with her other hand.
Looping it over her head, Tabitha let it rest upon her neck, the moon barely visible as it was nearly obscured by her long singlet.

(To be continued)
 
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lol....why are you surprised?

(Chapter 5, part 3)


The Illustrator's face beamed as he picked up an item that was buried beneath his mounds of old parchment.
He turned to Tabitha and she stopped moving forward, glancing at the thing that was in The Illustrator's hand.
It was a small trinket, a gold-looking necklace chain with a cresent moon formed from iron.
Tabitha glanced at the necklace in The Illustrator's hand as it dangled from the chain and swayed slightly in the wind.
"I found this in an old book, rather an odd place for a piece of metal, I thought. But, at any rate, since I have no use for it, you may as well take it, my dear," stated The Illustrator to Tabitha and held out his hand with the necklace.
Tabitha did not know what to say, it seemed like such an extravagent thing to give, though most likely it only cost two pounds forty at a local shop.
Reaching out, Tabitha cupped her hands beneath The Illustrator's right hand and he let go of the necklace, letting it drop into Tabitha's out-stretched hands with ease.

(To be continued)

I do not have patience....:p My computer is still in one piece!!!:D
Partially...lol.

*gasp* OHHH!! A necklace eh? Hmm.....
Wha will it do?
what's the history behind it?
why was it in a book????
Who did it previously belong to?
 
I do not have patience....:p My computer is still in one piece!!!:D
Partially...lol.

*gasp* OHHH!! A necklace eh? Hmm.....
Wha will it do?
what's the history behind it?
why was it in a book????
Who did it previously belong to?

And why did he give it to Tabitha? lol.
Um...edited more in, by the way.
 
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(Chapter 5, Part 4)

"It is very beautiful," stated a smiling Tabitha, holding her left hand over her chest where she could feel the slight cresent-shaped impression rise from her still damp singlet.
"May it protect you," stated The Illustrator, his face still beaming. "For I feel this is the last time we shall meet."
Tabitha's smile was wiped from her face, her left and right hands by her side.
Sammy Gibb had been observing all this with interest, still leaning against the wall of the hovel. He had tried to observe Tabitha's gift but only caught a glimpse of what looked like gold in the flickering candlelight before Tabitha was handed it.
Uninterested once more, Sammy relaxed more against the damp wall, keeping vigilant in case any intruders would find the entrance of The Illustrator's lair.
"What do you mean I won't see you again?" asked an anxious Tabitha, her hand whipping back to the moon-shaped iron hanging round her neck and clutched it with loving anxiety.
The Illustrator sighed, wheezing slightly as he gently sat down, his old bones creaking from this simple motion until he was sprawled out on his bed of old blankets.
"I guess you should know by now, I am not exactly young as I used to be and living in this state has not improved my health at all. I fear I am nearing the end, Tabitha. I too must suffer old age until my weary bones cannot take it much longer," stated The Illustrator glumly but with remorseful affection.
"I don't understand...." stated Tabitha briefly before The Illustrator cut off her sentance.
"I may be caught by the police, or I may not. In either case, I won't be around. This is a tiresome world, my dear. You shall learn that when you become as old as I have," said The Illustrator as he smiled at Tabitha.
It was a smile of peace, one Tabitha knew was a smile of a person who had lived as they had and did not care the coincidences of their departure.

(to be continued)
 
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Aww Sammy gets nothing? :p

I still think the Illustrator should be her father......

Keep it coming Simon.
*Waits again* I shall be waiting a long time, well until next week Saturday cos I'm away next week. I hope I wont have much to catch up on but thats not very likely, oh wells :p.

Lol Carz so many questions! *Sings Take that* Have a little patience. :p
 
Aww Sammy gets nothing? :p

I still think the Illustrator should be her father......

Keep it coming Simon.
*Waits again* I shall be waiting a long time, well until next week Saturday cos I'm away next week. I hope I wont have much to catch up on but thats not very likely, oh wells :p.

Lol Carz so many questions! *Sings Take that* Have a little patience. :p

lol...yeah, Sammy gets nothing. But, he does not mind, so you should not. lol.

lol...nah. Too predictable....besides, a criminal for a dad? I doubt the legal system will let that happen.

lol...I try to keep it coming, really I do. It is just hard sometimes.
Okay....lol....long wait.

(Chapter 5, part 5)


But Tabitha was not ready, she knew everyone had to leave some time or another, but not just after she recieved a great gift from the one who was to....
Tabitha's thoughts abruptly stopped in her head as she felt tears prickle within her eyes.
"Why do you have to go?" she asked The Illustrator.
His wheezing seemed calmer now, but Tabitha did not know wether that was good or bad.
"We must all leave sooner or later, do not ask such questions my dear, for they will...only....be....."
The Illustrator was unable to finish his sentance. His ragged breathing had finally stopped, his old yet sparkling eyes glazing over.
The Illustrator's monocle fell from his eye, catching taught upon the chain that was fastened to the old dusty cloak that was worn by a dead man.

At first, Tabitha could not admit to herself what she had just witnessed what she had never seen before, the last breaths of a person living turning into a hollow shell of the now dead.
Tabitha slowly crouched down in her long singlet and she started to cry, the tears obscured from the dank air as Tabitha held her hands over her face that was flushed with remorse and sorrow.

End of Chapter 5

EDIT: Sorry if there are some spelling errors or stuff like that, because I make it up straight on here, no time for Word or Spell Check.
 
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lol...yeah. :D

Here is start of Chapter 6.


Chapter 6: Of Death And Sorrow....

Tabitha remained on the ground, weeping at her friend's demise a few moments ago.
Sammy had been watching the whole thing, almost indignant that The Illustrator was dead. Sammy Gibb knew he wasn't really learned in things like Tabitha, he was slightly bitter at what he thought was "special treatment" but he admired her for a whole lot of other things aswell.
Sammy walked over to Tabitha and gently knelt beside her, glancing over at the dead body of their mentor and once dear friend.
Sammy was a caring fellowq, really he was, but he was a child whom had not learnt how to cry at such morbid things that appeared to shock him so.
"He 'as a good un," muttered Sammy, slightly abashed at the sound of his own voice.
He was not fully aware of how quiet everything was until he had spoken, besides the sobs of the crying Tabitha.

Tabitha slowly stood up, brushing the tears from her face. She could cry all she wanted, but she had lived through rough things worse then this, she could get through this aswell.
She noticed Sammy glance up at her, his pitiful form seemed somewhat shrivelled but that was due to the angle she was looking at him.
She did not pity Sammy, he was like her sure, but every orphan looked out for themselves. That was the way of the streets.

(End of part 1)
 
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