Road to Ishgard [Backstory, OOC comments welcome]

[Colyer]

((Plan is to write a series of stories about moments in Iitryo's past some big some small that hints at his past and hopefully shows how he became the way is))

 

    Iitryo sat on a small bench inside of his family’s wagon.Being his home, he has grown accustom to the bumps and jostles of travel, to a point where even the occasional symphony of sounds as objects bounced off each other was not enough to distract him from the book he was reading. Iitryo stared intently at the pages, taking in each word without one thought about the outside world, until he lurched forward with a bit of momentum as the wagon came to a stop.    

 

    Iitryo looked up from the book, tilting his head as he scanned the empty room, with one ear perked for any sound. After a few second, he carefully placing the book next to him, in order to not lose his place and rolled onto his hands and knees and crawled across the bench, and pulled aside the curtain in from of a small window.

 

    We stopped. He thought as he peered around to attempt to see if there was any activity outside. Iitryo spun around, and looked at the door when he heard the two soft raps.

 

    “Iitryo?”A voice called through the door. “We are stopping here for a while, so you can come on out.”

                

    Ugh, the chocobos must need water and rest… Iitryo groaned as he shimmied off the benched. This means another practice session.

                

    He marked his place in the book, and placed it on the table next to the bench, before slipping on his boots and stepping outside. Blinking as his eyes adjusted to the noon sun, as he stretched his back until he heard a light bop in his left shoulder. Giving that shoulder a bit of a rub, he looked around and watched as the rest of the troupe began their rituals whenever the caravan stops for these rest stops.

                

    “Iitryo!”An older voice called from behind the wagon, which he stepped out from.

                

    “Dad?”He replied as he made his way to the back of the wagon.  Peering around the corner to conform what he already expected, his father digging through an open chest.  Didn't take him long to get that thing down. “Shouldn't we take care of camp duties first?”

                

    “Don’t worry about that, everything has been taken care of.” His dad replied without looking up “Plus you need to practice. You are already sixteen cycles old and have yet to manage to find a skill yet. How will you be able to perform with the troupe at this rate?”

                

    Iitryo opened his mouth to say something, but paused for a second before closing it with a silent sigh as he glanced down at the dusty ground.

                

    “Ah,here we go.” He dad proclaimed “We having tried juggling yet.”

                

    Iitryo frowned. “Yes, we have dad lots of times now.”

                

    “Bah you just need more practice. Here, give it a shot.” His dad said as he tossed Iitryo three balls one at a time.

                

    Iitryo managed to catch the first ball with both hands, the second in the crock of his arm, but the third bounced off his chest. Bending over, to pick up the third ball, Iitryo couldn't help but get a slightly annoyed look on his face. How many times must I fail at this stuff?

                

    “Come on now, you know this, just take it slow – start with two balls if you have to.” His dad said eagerly as he sat on the now closed trunk.

                

    Iitryo took a few deep breaths, and look down at the two balls in his hands. Toss. He thought as he mimicked the tossing motion with his right hand. Pass.As he pretended to pass the ball in his left hand to his right. And catch. Toss, pass, and catch. Toss, pass,catch. After a few more mimics he took one more breath and bit his bottom lip.

                

    Iitryo tossed the ball in his right hand up and to the left while passed the ball in his left hand to his right. He caught the ball with his right hand, but the ball he tossed up landed with a soft whop.

                

    “Keep your eye on the ball” His dad lectured with an exasperated sigh, as he picked up the stray ball and handed it back to his son.

                

    Iitryo took the ball back, and prepared himself for another go. Eyeing the ball in his right hand, Iitryo attempts to juggle the two balls a second time. This time he manage to catch the ball he tossed with his right hand, but the ball from his left hand shoot over his right hand, bouncing a few feet away. Iitryo could only look down and shift his feet, knowing full well the look his dad must have on his face. “I just cannot do this.”

                

    “Maybe you are right.” his dad muttered as he picked up the third ball resting by his feet. “Here, keep practicing, I’ll talk with some of the others. I’ll find something that you can do. Don’t worry.”

                

    Iitryo looked around the mass of wagons, as he took the ball in his dad’s hand. It didn't take long for the other members to make this makeshift camp into a hive of activity. There was the group of Mio’te acrobats gathered together discussing possible changes to their show, the male Elezen knife thrower and the Roegadyn strong lady fixing some minor damage to one of the wagons, a young female Hyur juggler tending to a baby chocobo and Kiht’zi, a male Miqo’te sitting alone on top of a wagon.  Try as he might, Iitryo couldn't find his mom, meaning she was either outside the camp with some of the others or inside their wagon. Either way it was too risky to go back there, so he made his way to Roland’s trailer, a huge male Hyur highlander, who surprisingly was a part of a comedy duo.

                

    Once behind Roland’s trailer, out of sight of the others, Iitryo slumped up against the painted wood. He stood there for a few moments staring at the red balls before dropping them into the sand and plopping down onto the ground, with his legs folded. How can I escape… this is not working, no matter how much I try he just won’t accept that I don’t belong here. Iitryo absently rolled one of the balls around using two of his fingers. We are getting close to Ul’dah,maybe I could just sneak away…

                

    “Iitryo?”a voice, that he recognized as his mom called out. “I thought I saw you wonder off over here.”

                

    “Uh…just taking a bit of a break, from practicing.” Iitryo quickly responded motioning toward the two balls.

                

    His mom looked at him for a moment. “Juggling again, I see.”

                

    Iitryo sighed.Maybe. He thought. I if I hint at it, just enough to plant a seed. “Mom” he finally said, trying to make his voice quiver just so. “I… I just can’t seem to do anything. No matter what dad has me try, I can’t do it. I don’t... maybe...  I am not cut out to do this. “

                

    “Be a juggler?” his mom asked picking up one of the balls.

                

    “Be a performer” Iitryo said in his most pitiful voice, never looking anywhere but down at the ground.

                

    Iitryo could hear his mom sigh, and waited for the inevitable pep talk, but instead he felt his mom’s hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry Iitryo, I’ll talk with your father, we’ll figure something out.”

 

    Late that evening Iitryo lay in his bed, nervously biting his bottom lip. Luckily his bedroom was not originally designed to be one, so he did not had wooden door, but a thick cloth which only muffed the sound. Laying there wrapped in his blanket he strained to hear his parents over the sounds of glass and dishes clanging together in the front of their little home.

 

    “I don’t know…” The sound of his dad’s voice wafted into his room. “It seems that no matter what we try he just cannot get it right. I am running out of ideas… “

                

    “Maybe you should…” The sound of his moms voice, caused him to roll in onto his stomach, his hands crunched into fist and nervously being pressed together. “

                

    “He just doesn't have any coordination or reflexes for the physical stuff, and I can’t…” His dad’s voice picked back off before trailing off again.

                

    “Ri…”his mom’s voice broke back in. “How about we let Iitryo...” Her voice paused for a moment causing Iitryo to tremble in fear of what his dad response might be. “Maybe we should let Kiht’zi train him.”

                

    “No, I don’t’want my son to be left alone with him. “ His dad voice, now stern passed through the curtain.

                

    “Riritopa,don’t tell me you believe to awful rumors.” Iitryo heard his mom rebuked back, as he laid there stunned. She... she said she was going to talk to him… she didn't… how could...

                

    “Of course not.” His dad answered back quickly, as Iitryo rolled over onto his side, clutching his large over-sized pillow tightly as he covered his head with his blanket. “It is just that I think it is safer… in case…”

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[Teardrop]

((What an interesting background concept, and story as well...nice job :thumbsup: !))

[Colyer]

((This is going to be a short addition - had to rewrite completely once I realized my timescale was off and what I had written wouldn't' make any sense - that and it's already 1am Est and I should get some sleep before the beta "today"))

 

 

    Iitryo sat at his cluttered desk,his head resting in his hands. No, no, no.I thought as suddenly leaned back into the chair and pounded the top of the desk with his right fist. He grimaced and shook his hand, at the sudden pain that the action caused. He dropped his head into his left hand, pressing his forehead into his left palm, and his fingers sinking into his now longer hair. This can’t be happening, not now… not after two years of working non-stop… and still can’t find one word of them anywhere.

                

    He looked at the piece of parchment setting in front of him, re-reading it over for the umpteenth time, hoping beyond hope, that he had misread it all those previous times. But still it said the same thing; we have no knowledge, no records of them passing through. Two years since Bahamut raged, two years of worrying whether or not his parents, out there somewhere that night, survived. Iitryo took a deep breath and looked up at the dusty looking ceiling. It was foolish… I should have known, all those years traveling… Even if they are still alive, finding them blind.  Impossible.

            

    He slumped forward in the chair, and took a deep breath. He slowly looked around his small, sparse room. “Three years” he muttered “Three years and this is all I have…“ He sighed. 

 

    Iitryo winced as he kicked the desk without thinking. He kicked his desk, not out of frustration of failing yet again, but because as much as he didn't want to admit it. He always knew that it was an impossible task even before the calamity occurred.