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 Christmas with M'aiq (My-eek) 
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Muah! Goodnight Everybody!

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Joined: Sun Mar 04, 2012 11:41 pm
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Location: The Forest
Age: 20
Heavy RP Characters: Minerva Mink
Post Christmas with M'aiq (My-eek)
This is because I love you all and is to you all. Enjoy and Merry Christmas.

Christmas with M'aiq

It was Evening Star (December) in the North Pole. Snow, as always, covered the ground, and trees were spread throughout the plain. The Northern Lights shone in the distant sky above the white serenity of the Pole; the vertical streams and bends in the blue and green translucent light adding to the comforting mood. The North Pole was the definition of peace. Nothing ever stirred in the fields and ice sheets of the Pole. Reindeer, foxes, owls, and wolves were all absent from the scene. There was but one creature in the midst of this; his name is M’aiq.
M’aiq is an eccentric creature, however. He is a cat that stands on two feet, has arms and hands with opposable thumbs, a drooping black mustache and wears a yellow hooded robe that he always keeps on his head. In perspective he looks similar to a jaguar, with black spots on his fur, retractable claws, fangs, and whiskers. M’aiq can speak, read, and write like other humans. But the things he tells to people give them the impression that he is a liar. That’s how he got the name, M’aiq the Liar.
This place is bitter cold for M’aiq, he thinks clutching himself as he climbs up a small hill to get a good idea on where he is. Well… that’s the problem; he doesn’t know where he is. Nor does he know how he ended up here. All he can remember is falling asleep and waking up in this frigid wilderness with a cut on his cheek, which had turned into a scar.
As M’aiq scans the horizon a speck of light winks on far off into the distance. M’aiq stops and squints to try to see what it is. Then more lights wink to life. Now there are at least eight lights flickering in the night. It is as if they are teasing him with warmth. M’aiq is determined to find out what it is he is seeing, so he leaps off and skids down the hill.
It is good that M’aiq is wearing boots because the ground is cold. It also relieves M’aiq that the ground is mostly flat, with a gradual decline. The trees get closer and closer as he heads toward the lights that still seem days away. But what choice does M’aiq have? There aren’t any other signs of escape from the wretchedness of the cold.
Dreams of his warm homeland make him hopeful that he is close and will soon be lying in a bed, surrounded by the heat of a fire. That is when he hears the ringing of bells and the friction of skids against snow. Moments later a small sled tugged by a single reindeer emerges from behind a boulder into a clearing on ridge to M’aiq’s left. The one controlling the sled is a short man with pointed ears wearing a green tunic. An elf.
“Oh, you must be the new toy Santa ordered,” he said to M’aiq with a low pitched voice.
He grimaced, “M’aiq is no ‘toy’ that this… ‘Santa’ has ordered to have brought to him. What kind of elf are you?”
The miniature creature frowns and his eyebrows rise. “Then what are you if you aren’t a toy?”
“M’aiq might ask the same of you. But who—or what—we are matters not. I need to get to the beacons that shine over there,” he said, pointing to the lights in the distance. “M’aiq needs to return to his homeland of Elsweyr.” “Alright… M’aiq. I’ve never heard of 'Elsewhere' but I’m certain Santa has. I’ll take you to Christmas Town and you can ask him when we get there.”
M’aiq climbs aboard the sled and takes a glance at the elf. “What is your name?” He asks. The elf tells him, “Steve.” Strange name for an elf. “Steve…” he repeats. Steve shakes the reins and the reindeer starts toward what Steve had called “Christmas Town”.
Minutes passed in utter silence. M’aiq had covered his face with the scarf of his robes to keep the wind from freezing him. “How did you end up in the North Pole?” Steve asked. M’aiq shoots him a glance, and then looks back into the distance. They’re closing in on the settlement. “M’aiq does not know; he shall find out soon after he returns home.”
Steve scoffs at this, “Does everyone speak like that in ‘Elsewhere’?”
“Some of M’aiq’s kind speaks this way, yes. It is our culture.”
“Must be confusing.”
“You are not of M’aiq’s kind.”
“Fortunately,” Steve murmured.
M’aiq keeps his head down and thinks of what continent he could be in. Nothing comes to his mind. “There it is,” Steve announces awhile later, pointing dead ahead. M’aiq looks up in surprise. “Christmas Town.” Christmas Town is a place with brick houses with smoke billowing from their chimneys, reindeer prancing about the snow, decorated evergreens, and snow piled into balls to mock the appearance of men. A large house stands at the top of a hill overlooking the town. “Who lives up there?” M’aiq asks Steve, nodding at it. “Santa. He’s our leader. We make toys and he delivers them to children who deserve them. There are two lists he keeps, they’re—” “Can M’aiq see him?” He interrupts. “Oh yes, of course” Steve replied.
They climb the hill and Steve knocks on the door when they reach the top. “Mr. Santa, someone… different wants to see you.” “I am M’aiq and I need a way back to Elsweyr!” He breaks in. “Come on in,” A cheery voice said from the other side of the door. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.” M’aiq opens the door and walks inside. The first thing he sees is a stout man in a red, white-trimmed fur coat and boots leaning over a table with a chair sitting behind him. He straightens and turns around as he hears the door close behind Steve.
“Oh my!” He lurched backward. “I didn’t think the new toy was anything like this! Those fellas on Craigslist really gave me more than I bargained for,” he chuckled. “M’aiq is not a toy for you!” He declares. “He is lost in this freezing landscape with no idea where he is!” Steve nods, “He’s telling the truth.” Santa sighs, “My sleigh leaves in an hour. I’ll take you home.” He paused. “And call me Nick.” M’aiq lets out an exasperated breath. Finally, now M’aiq can go home.
The sleigh was “ready for takeoff” according to Nick. M’aiq doesn’t know how reindeer are supposed to fly, but Nick seemed convinced that his magic enabled them to. “Ever flown before?” He asks. “M’aiq is not a lunatic; he does not even attempt to fly.” Nick slaps the reins and the reindeer dash down the ramp. M’aiq braces himself in case this magic fades. However, he is mistaken. When the lead reindeer got to end of the ramp it leaped into the air flawlessly—and flew.
M’aiq watches the others take off and then the sleigh behind them. Once they’re in the air the world seemed to become so small. They had gained so much height and the sky was so clear that they could see the shapes of the continents. This told M’aiq he was no longer in his realm. He was away from home—far away. Perhaps this was better for him. No more trouble for himself. No more being pestered by others around him. M’aiq can start anew!
Neek,” he says. “M’aiq wants to help deliver the toys for the children.” Nick craned his neck backward. “Help me you say?” He chuckled, “My… that would be wonderful! The old back does hurt after going down chimneys for more than a hundred years.” M’aiq’s eyes dilated, but quickly receded in spite of this. “M’aiq takes that as a yes than?”
“You can be my chief assistant.” Nick took a deep breath, “But are you sure about this? Don’t you have people you care about back home?”
A smile forms in the corner of M’aiq’s mouth, “There’s no one that’s treated M’aiq better than you, Neek.”
“You’re certain?”
Nick gave a single nod, “So be it. I name you the Chief Assistant of St. Nicolas: the Father of Christmas.” At that very moment M’aiq feels like he finally belongs to something meaningful. Something mythical but in all reality an honest thing. This “Christmas” would be something that makes M’aiq’s name mean something to others. He would be the one who stood by Nick, assisting him behind the scenes to organize the gifts for the deserving children of this world.
“For that,” M’aiq says. “I will always wish you well.”

It's not pretty being me!
Just try it an you'll see!
It's harder than you think...
To be a gorgeous mink!
La da da da do dol dee!
It's not pretty being me!

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Fri Dec 28, 2012 5:04 pm
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