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Petalbreath the Pixie

[ website | My Pet Human ]
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Ugh! [04 Dec 2003|05:19pm]
[ mood | pissed off ]

Ugh! Mortal boys! I don't like Brianne mixing with them. No, not one bit.

It's obvious that she'll get lonely if she doesn't. I know this. Actually, I've seen the solitude nearly consume her. It's not pretty.

Of course, the main artery of this destain stems from simple snobbery. Her kind, our kind in general, is far superior to humans. She shouldn't have to settle for a mere mortal when there are numerous Sidhe princes waiting to court her upon returning to the Otherworld.

That, and Mankind just pisses me off. Just look at them. They kill each other for sport and destroy the Earth for fun. They're loud, boorish, inconsiderate, and downright crazy. And when I see Brianne adopting their behaviors to better cope with the world around her or put her mental health on the line for one of these creatures, I convulse with anger. I really can't stand it.

I suppose I should consider myself lucky, though. Brianne has a few friends whom I trust enough to leave her alone with. Although I'm never out of earshot, these little breaks help me keep my sanity. Come on now, wouldn't chasing Brianne around you all day drive you a bit mad, too?

it's snowing!

[20 Sep 2003|02:48pm]
That meeting for the Earthbound Otherworldly last night was just terrible. I really have to stop going to those things.

I spent most of the time being snubbed by the others unless they were asking about Brianne.

See, nobody respects pixies all that much. The general consensus is that we're cute, we spend all day sucking down mass quantities of nectar, and our magic isn't all that powerful. We're treated as if we're unimportant and have no real purpose outside of being somewhat amusing. I still get crap about how a mere pixie was put in charge of protecting such a changeling child. Hey, I don't even understand it myself. Fate is funny that way.

Anyway, I got bitched at about the doughnut thing again. Since nobody thinks that my kind is important enough to consider, pixie-friendly food is never provided. I have to settle with edible items that are usually at least three times my size, so of course I'm never going to be able to finish the whole thing! I'm three inches tall! Can you imagine what your food looks like to me? A few pooka made some comments about how wasteful I am because I took about three bites out of a maple cream-stick and announced that I was done. I don't know why they couldn't have just ate the rest of it. They act like pixies spread disease. I hate them so much.

When I arrived home, I found Brianne languishing on the floor, eyes open to the ceiling. She was still encased in the ProtectionBubble I had cast around her before I had left. She wasn't very happy about it, either. She claims that it makes it hard for her to breathe and that her second-sight gets sort of fuzzy. I'm glad that she hasn't been able to harness her magical side all that well while in human form because she would have been out of that thing in no time at all.

As soon as I revoked the spell, and after she had spent a few minutes gasping for breath, she berated me with insults and protestations. I was in no mood for this, so I casted SleepyTime on her cranky ass. She's still reeling a bit from it.
11 snowflakes| it's snowing!

[18 Sep 2003|06:03pm]
[ mood | distressed ]

It hurts to watch Brianne immerse herself in negativity day after day. As she walks past, I catch the scent of defeat that rolls from her lungs with every discontented sigh. The smell makes me cough and I wind up with a tummyache.

The primary cause of this is her schooling, I know it. I watch it every day as I sit upon her shoulder. Things are absolutely vile; humans screaming at her, other students, other humans, trying to collapse their wills and joys and aspirations into anti-matter. The only thing anybody seems to care about is looking good at the expense of their collegues. That's not the best environment for one to learn, least of all my fragile charge. You have no idea how badly I would like to case FireTongue on those who bring her down, or how great it would be to see them transformed into the cockroaches that they truely are. I know better, though. Such actions would banish me from this realm, and then where would that leave Brianne? Deep down, I know she doesn't need me as much as she used to, but who else would make her laugh and let her cry when she most needs to?
I can't really think of anyone.

1 snowflake| it's snowing!

[17 Sep 2003|05:48pm]
[ mood | accomplished ]

Hi. My name is Petalbreath.

Well, not exactly. But I'm not even going to attempt the proper pronunciation. There is no way your mortal tongues could come close to saying it. "Petalbreath" is simply the literal English translation of what I am known as, and it's what my Brianne has called me ever since she first used her voice to speak.

Have I mentioned that I am a little pixie with a big job?

Of course not. I cannot delve into a lot of detail, mainly because I am aware of the reprocussions. I suppose it can't hurt to let you in on most of the stuff that Brianne knows already.

I guess I should start off at about two to three hundred of your years ago. I understand that this may be difficult hard for you to grasp, but Sidhe (pronounced "shee") time differs much from mortal time. Some of us are even timeless. I, however, am not, but seem very old to humans, when, in reality, my age is approximately what you would recognize as twenty-five.

I was the single hatchling of two parents who loved me very much. Affection was not limited to them, though, as I was born into a tribe that is noted as being one of the largest in pixiedom. We are what you consider to be upper-middle class, and are noted for our innate ability to make the flowers grow. You might think that is a fivolous and simple job, but it most certainly is not. Have you ever tried to use the gentlest of persuasion to coax a rather happily inert being into any type of motion? Yeah, that's what I thought.

Even though I did not exactly fit into my family's notably subdued nature, I was lucky enough to know that they accepted me completely. My nature was far from quiet, but I could always be tamed by a good book. The only thing more important to me than raising the proverbial hell is obtaining knowledge.

Despite my willingness to learn, however, school was nothing short of a holy terror. I attended a prestigious, private, all-pixie insitution. My tribe had gone to that school for generations. It's not that they did not wish to mingle with other otherworldly creatures - oh no, not that at all - but, the school focused on all a pixie should learn, and minus all that other stuff, like how to steal souls effectively and the political structure of our world and et cetra. Pixies really have no actual use for that crap. Unfortunately, the subject matter of my daily classes bored me to tears. Instead of paying attention, I would draw pictures of my various teaches being devoured alive by swamp monsters or daydream about being a dragon-tamer.

School needed to be more of an adventure, but it never achieved that goal I had secretly set for it. As I briefly mentioned, I thought a lot about being a dragon-tamer. There was nothing more that I wanted to do with my life than to teach dragons to cuddle and purr instead of trample and destroy. They are not really nefarious creatures to begin with, but if not given rules and trained from the time they hatch, dragons grow up to be very unrully and cause problems for everyone. You know, sort of like humans. Of course, a pixie would look pretty rediculious trying to keep a dragon under control, not to mention the extreme lack on intimidation on my kind's behalf.

After school, I decided to further my education. It had been apparent for years that I would neither succeed in or enjoy the family trade. I knew that dragon-taming was right-out, but I still would not settle for an occupation that provided anything less than frequent adventures. That is how I came into my current line of work.

To make a long story short, I ended up becoming a social worker of sorts to changeling children. See, sometimes, for whatever reason, fey-folk leave their own offspring in the guise of mortal bodies. There are specific reasons for this, most of which I am not privvy to.

Brianne, as usual, does not exactly fit into the normal equation. She is, from what I understand, one of, if not the last of her line -- strange, wild creatures who nobody can seem to capture. They cannot sit still for extented periods of time, are attracted to flowers, prone to large, sudden bursts of silliness, and, above all, bring magic to every place they inhabit. It is my duty to protect my charge from obvious danger when I can, but to let her deal with it when she is able. I am also to teach her about her origins when appropriate, and make sure she discovers her path as independantly as possible. It's a tough mix; I must be careful to employ just the right parts of love, encouragement, discipline, and magical workings.

I have decided to update on this journal from time to time, to show the world how I see it, simultaniously through [info]fidgety's eyes, and through my own.

it's snowing!

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