A bit of silliness

A few days ago, one of my favourite boggers, Angela, wrote a piece about cliché villains. It was a great piece, but a comment about it from Luc hit me right on the silly button. He wanted to know why we don't dress them in pink, with lots of lace and ribbons? Why not indeed.

Yesterday, I got a scathing review on YWO, in which I was told that my writing was 'competent, but unimaginative'. It hurt a bit, but then I realised that his score was so much lower than everyone else's, that it had somehow made my story rise in the ratings, rather than sink, so I feel better now (though I'll never understand how they work the ratings on that site). Anyway, the point is that it got me thinking along Luc's very silly line and I rewrote my baddy - just for fun.

Before Jakan could answer, he was interrupted by the sound of a group of people laughing and talking outside. He stood and opened the front door to look out. Some of the Elders, who had just left, along with others from the village, walked back towards Kattan’s house. With them came a stranger, a rather portly young man, dressed in a pink leotard, spangled pink tutu and matching tights. The fluffy, rose-coloured slippers on his feet were scuffed and worn and his big toe stuck through on the left foot. Nevertheless, he had a confident air about him and those with him seemed to hang on his every word.

As he approached, Jakan could see that he was a handsome young man, with a thick mop of dark, wavy hair and finely chiseled features. His dark eyes were deep-set, but beautifully highlighted by green eyeshadow and mascara. His nose was long and straight. His mouth formed an easy smile. He puckered his lips at Jakan when he saw him and gave an elegant plié in greeting, but Jakan felt a strange distaste. Something about him made the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

“Jakanash, Treespeaker of the Fifth Tribe of the Arrakesh,” said Griffad. His mouth drew into a tight line and he narrowed his eyes, obviously annoyed at finding Jakan still with Kattan. “This is Beldror Kardil, from Garuga.”

Jakan nodded a greeting without a word. He turned to Megda who was standing behind him. “Please tell Kattan I will deal with this, and I will see him tomorrow.”

Megda nodded and went inside, shutting the door behind her.

Beldror Kardil gazed at Jakan, did a pirouette and laughed. “Jakanash, the Treespeaker?” He raised a carefully plucked eyebrow. “Could that be the same Jakanash that knew my Uncle Varyd?”

As I said, all very silly, but lots of fun to write!