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[ Banned User ]
Sharks
SugarJan
Claris
Aeront
[VIOLET]
Silverclaw
Tempest
12 posters
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Tempest- Posts : 48
Join date : 2018-08-04
Age : 26
Location : Not the mountains 
Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Sun Dec 02, 2018 7:39 pm
First topic message reminder :
Castle High's living quarters are a bit spartan, but still quite comfy. It consisted of a series of stone-gray multi-level hallways with doors leading into wider chambers, and each chamber contributing half its space to house about a dozen slightly saggy cots arranged in a bunk-bed fashion. Sometimes, a chamber might be lucky enough to have a full dining table, or several workbenches instead of just one, or a full collection of twelve chairs, but for the most part, the cots were the only furniture consistently available. There was plenty of electrical lighting to go around, but only a few outlets for other appliances were available throughout the entire quarters, spaced erratically between different chambers. It wasn't uncommon to see these chambers cleared out of their other furnishings so that the chamber could be made communal: one only needed to look for doorways where the sides were lined with cots being used as benches and the like. Plumbing and heating is available, but only to the communal bathrooms, one located about every few dozen chambers.
The soldiers gathered here seem to come from all sorts of the backgrounds and boasts a wide variety of personalities, but they all have something in common - a belief in the goal. This place is the primary place for them to cool down after a hard day of work or training, or after a long battle. Their matching, light-gray uniforms are testament to that, though quite a few have a few nicks and tears on their clothes that they can confidently call their own.
As a recruit, you were lead into a particular chamber near the very corner of the space, labeled with a cheaply produce plastic label: "Regiment 1-31." You were brought here with a paper note from Russel, the commander you met when you first found yourself on the Castle Grounds: "Sorry I can't be there to introduce you to your new team. Everyone in that chamber has shown up just recently; each person's only been here for a week, tops. You guys will be working, training, and fighting together all the time, so I hope you guys get used to each other's company. If you need help, look around for me or anybody else that looks like they've been here for a while; I tend to walk down to the quarters often. Hope you get settled in nicely. Cheers... Russel"
- Rules:
[b]Posting in this topic is to be limited only to registered players and moderators of Attack on Castle High.
This thread is to be used as a free sandbox, where a player can role play as any of their own characters. It takes place within the living quarters and surrounding areas of Castle Low. No guarantees of moderator involvement there - but, if a moderator is asked or desires to do so, they may play as any number of the non-player characters situation, as well as provide further descriptions of the environment. Note that your actions here will have no effect on the game in terms of its core gameplay.
Follow forum rules and good role-playing and behavioral etiquette in here at all times.
Castle High's living quarters are a bit spartan, but still quite comfy. It consisted of a series of stone-gray multi-level hallways with doors leading into wider chambers, and each chamber contributing half its space to house about a dozen slightly saggy cots arranged in a bunk-bed fashion. Sometimes, a chamber might be lucky enough to have a full dining table, or several workbenches instead of just one, or a full collection of twelve chairs, but for the most part, the cots were the only furniture consistently available. There was plenty of electrical lighting to go around, but only a few outlets for other appliances were available throughout the entire quarters, spaced erratically between different chambers. It wasn't uncommon to see these chambers cleared out of their other furnishings so that the chamber could be made communal: one only needed to look for doorways where the sides were lined with cots being used as benches and the like. Plumbing and heating is available, but only to the communal bathrooms, one located about every few dozen chambers.
The soldiers gathered here seem to come from all sorts of the backgrounds and boasts a wide variety of personalities, but they all have something in common - a belief in the goal. This place is the primary place for them to cool down after a hard day of work or training, or after a long battle. Their matching, light-gray uniforms are testament to that, though quite a few have a few nicks and tears on their clothes that they can confidently call their own.
As a recruit, you were lead into a particular chamber near the very corner of the space, labeled with a cheaply produce plastic label: "Regiment 1-31." You were brought here with a paper note from Russel, the commander you met when you first found yourself on the Castle Grounds: "Sorry I can't be there to introduce you to your new team. Everyone in that chamber has shown up just recently; each person's only been here for a week, tops. You guys will be working, training, and fighting together all the time, so I hope you guys get used to each other's company. If you need help, look around for me or anybody else that looks like they've been here for a while; I tend to walk down to the quarters often. Hope you get settled in nicely. Cheers... Russel"
AerontAdmin- Posts : 266
Join date : 2018-08-04
Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Fri Jul 12, 2019 6:53 pm
"I..." Candice stutters, her eyes wide as a sinking horror settles in her chest. "Arthur, I didn't mean to... I was just... I didn't know that..." She cuts herself off, realizing there isn't a point: she should have realized what she was doing. God, what was she thinking, just saying such things, making such decisions? She thought she'd learned by now yet here she still was, still making poor judgements and trying to decide what was best for others. She'd even tried to throw in his face baseless claims misogyny. And now, she couldn't take any of that back. She'd even gotten him so worked up, his breathing was elevating: this was probably physically hurting him!
Candice felt her body tense up as she wanted to bow, or maybe even drop to her knees to apologize, but the idea just made her feel pathetic. She could even feel a wetness beginning in her eyes, "I'm sorry that I... this is all my fault, it's... I just want you to... I..."
"Hey there, soldiers!" comes the voice of Giada, moving over toward Candice and Arthur just slightly too fast to be casual. Her voice has a similarly forced positivity to it, one that definitely didn't match the mechanic's normally laid-back demeanor. "Arthur, great work out there, your attack really swung things back in our favor. Great stuff. And Candice, uh..." Giada seems to momentarily 'forget her lines', but quickly recovers with a swing of her arm, "hew man, you must really be training them well." She puts a hand on both their shoulders, slightly pulling them apart, "yup, greaaaat work!"
Letting the false positivity drop a few notches, she turns to Candice, "hey, we're still trying to organize getting everyone in. Why don't you go let Rosemary know all the seriously injured are already inside?" Without waiting for a response, Giada spins Candice around and starts walking her toward the medical tents. Once she was moving on her own, Giada let go, walking back toward Arthur and the mob of soldiers still filtering in.
She stopped for a moment as she passed him, giving a small sigh as her tone returned to its usual mellow tone. "Hey uh, don't worry too much about that Regiment transfer. Your performance today showed you're right about where you should be. For whatever it's worth, I agree with you: I think the freedom we give you and your team is exactly why we keep getting good results. Just uh... people like Candice and Rosemary... yeah...," she left it at that, not entirely sure what was fair to say. She continued, "Anyway, don't worry about that stuff. The commanders already talked about how we're splitting up the money we got from Dragonskull, and you guys should get some good time to relax and enjoy yourselves with it. Go enjoy your shower and some de-stress time, alright?"
Candice felt her body tense up as she wanted to bow, or maybe even drop to her knees to apologize, but the idea just made her feel pathetic. She could even feel a wetness beginning in her eyes, "I'm sorry that I... this is all my fault, it's... I just want you to... I..."
"Hey there, soldiers!" comes the voice of Giada, moving over toward Candice and Arthur just slightly too fast to be casual. Her voice has a similarly forced positivity to it, one that definitely didn't match the mechanic's normally laid-back demeanor. "Arthur, great work out there, your attack really swung things back in our favor. Great stuff. And Candice, uh..." Giada seems to momentarily 'forget her lines', but quickly recovers with a swing of her arm, "hew man, you must really be training them well." She puts a hand on both their shoulders, slightly pulling them apart, "yup, greaaaat work!"
Letting the false positivity drop a few notches, she turns to Candice, "hey, we're still trying to organize getting everyone in. Why don't you go let Rosemary know all the seriously injured are already inside?" Without waiting for a response, Giada spins Candice around and starts walking her toward the medical tents. Once she was moving on her own, Giada let go, walking back toward Arthur and the mob of soldiers still filtering in.
She stopped for a moment as she passed him, giving a small sigh as her tone returned to its usual mellow tone. "Hey uh, don't worry too much about that Regiment transfer. Your performance today showed you're right about where you should be. For whatever it's worth, I agree with you: I think the freedom we give you and your team is exactly why we keep getting good results. Just uh... people like Candice and Rosemary... yeah...," she left it at that, not entirely sure what was fair to say. She continued, "Anyway, don't worry about that stuff. The commanders already talked about how we're splitting up the money we got from Dragonskull, and you guys should get some good time to relax and enjoy yourselves with it. Go enjoy your shower and some de-stress time, alright?"
![[VIOLET]](https://2img.net/u/4012/73/64/05/avatars/3-66.png)
[VIOLET]- Posts : 190
Join date : 2018-08-04
Age : 24
Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Fri Jul 12, 2019 9:56 pm
"Hmph. There was no need for an intervention..." Arthur continued, his voice a little weaker than earlier. Had he tired himself out already? "A little conflict now and then is necessary to keep the world in balance, isn't it?"
Truthfully, he had to go back a minute or two in his head to remember what he said that set her off so much at the end-- did he yell? Or... no, it was... that. That... one, was a bit unnecessary, he conceded, though for some reason it just slipped out on its own... tch. Something in him wasn't entirely at peace today, it seemed... he wasn't usually one to get so emotional.
"I'm well aware that Candice is trying to look after me," to this, his firm expression finally softened- his eyes starting to wander off, as if drifting to a different time. "If she has valuable advice for me, I'll gladly have a discussion about it. I just had to clear up a thing or two."
"...regardless, that's good news to hear. I was wondering when I'd get paid... Noble a cause as it is, scrap metal and new training missions aren't going to replace the flask I lost today... ahahah."
"Giada, was it?" He gave her a quick look over, an expression of quiet approval as he looked back up. "Excellent. I hear you're in charge of the engineers around here- spent a good many years around the forge, myself. Just left my shop behind for good about a month ago, actually... but I've been getting the itch to make a good blade again. I'd be glad to supply a few for our inventory, if ever we come across the materials for it... but that's talk for later, I suppose-- good day then, miss."
With a short bow, the mercenary excused himself-- the sooner he got into clean clothes, the better.
>Location: Regiment 1-31 Dormitory
It took a little over an hour... but now that he was freshened up, in clean clothes (his last white t-shirt and a pair of comfortable canvas pants), his hair freshly cut and already starting to dry, the mercenary seemed to be in better spirits already. He'd taken the liberty of going outside to wash off his sword and other equipment as well-- and after coming back to the dorm, he dropped into the edge of his bed with a contented sigh.
He'd probably relax a little while longer before dinner... taking a glass bottle of a dark liquid from his backpack, he tipped it back bottoms-up with his head for a heavy swig. Mmph... he needed that one.
Truthfully, he had to go back a minute or two in his head to remember what he said that set her off so much at the end-- did he yell? Or... no, it was... that. That... one, was a bit unnecessary, he conceded, though for some reason it just slipped out on its own... tch. Something in him wasn't entirely at peace today, it seemed... he wasn't usually one to get so emotional.
"I'm well aware that Candice is trying to look after me," to this, his firm expression finally softened- his eyes starting to wander off, as if drifting to a different time. "If she has valuable advice for me, I'll gladly have a discussion about it. I just had to clear up a thing or two."
"...regardless, that's good news to hear. I was wondering when I'd get paid... Noble a cause as it is, scrap metal and new training missions aren't going to replace the flask I lost today... ahahah."
"Giada, was it?" He gave her a quick look over, an expression of quiet approval as he looked back up. "Excellent. I hear you're in charge of the engineers around here- spent a good many years around the forge, myself. Just left my shop behind for good about a month ago, actually... but I've been getting the itch to make a good blade again. I'd be glad to supply a few for our inventory, if ever we come across the materials for it... but that's talk for later, I suppose-- good day then, miss."
With a short bow, the mercenary excused himself-- the sooner he got into clean clothes, the better.
- >Location: Castle High Bathhouse:
If anyone tried to stop or pull Arthur aside in the period between the point he finished talking to Giada and the point he emerged from his bath, he wasn't hearing it at all-- after picking up his spare clothes from the dorm, he strode down the castle hall silently, assertively, until he reached the first open shower he could find.
Anyone standing outside might have also noticed him walk in with his sword in hand-- and, once he had spent a furious twenty five minutes in there, emerge about as clean as he could be (though not totally free of the septic smell)... with the back of his hair cut to about an eighth of its earlier lenghth.
Now sitting in a short, choppy mess of curls at the back of his head, it was much lighter... messier, but with his hair still cut neatly at the front, it could certainly pass as intentional.
The rest... was up to the bath. He'd be soaking and scrubbing in there a good while-- maybe he'd even brush his teeth again before dinner.
>Location: Regiment 1-31 Dormitory
It took a little over an hour... but now that he was freshened up, in clean clothes (his last white t-shirt and a pair of comfortable canvas pants), his hair freshly cut and already starting to dry, the mercenary seemed to be in better spirits already. He'd taken the liberty of going outside to wash off his sword and other equipment as well-- and after coming back to the dorm, he dropped into the edge of his bed with a contented sigh.
He'd probably relax a little while longer before dinner... taking a glass bottle of a dark liquid from his backpack, he tipped it back bottoms-up with his head for a heavy swig. Mmph... he needed that one.
meta- Posts : 23
Join date : 2018-12-03
Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Fri Jul 12, 2019 10:55 pm
> Location: Regiment 1-31 Dormitory
Freshly recovered after a short time in the Infirmary, Saul strode through the heavy wooden door into Regiment 1-31's dormitory. Noticing Arthur sitting at the edge of his bunk, the paladin gave the other man a nod and a gruff greeting before walking past him to his own bunk. There, the paladin took a seat, set down his sword, and began to unstrap his armor.
After a few moments of silence, Saul gave Arthur another nod. "What's that you've got there?" he asked, the faintest of smiles tugging at the edge of his mouth. "I would've thought food and drink were scarce, judging from the rations they've been servin' us."
Freshly recovered after a short time in the Infirmary, Saul strode through the heavy wooden door into Regiment 1-31's dormitory. Noticing Arthur sitting at the edge of his bunk, the paladin gave the other man a nod and a gruff greeting before walking past him to his own bunk. There, the paladin took a seat, set down his sword, and began to unstrap his armor.
After a few moments of silence, Saul gave Arthur another nod. "What's that you've got there?" he asked, the faintest of smiles tugging at the edge of his mouth. "I would've thought food and drink were scarce, judging from the rations they've been servin' us."
- [VIOLET]
- Posts : 190
Join date : 2018-08-04
Age : 24
Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Sat Jul 13, 2019 12:12 am
"This?" Arthur blinked down towards his drink, then back up at the knight, flashing a quick smirk. "Liquor-- 72-proof. I used it to disinfect a wolf bite and never had any problems afterwards, so you know it's strong... mhahaha. Had it on me when I got here. And thank goodness- this place can barely afford to supply half-decent grub, much less a good night's drink. Lost a full flask in the fight back there, though-- crushed to bits. And right on time for payday, it just so happens..."
As his eyes wandered, he took in the sight of Saul's belongings: the details and wear on his armor told him the man had been through a few other adventures before arriving here... naturally... but he lingered especially on the sorry state of the man's sword. He was wielding that thing while facing the Champion? He could barely even call it a sword at that point... but rather than casting a look of derision or disgust, he seemed more impressed than anything; and remembering something, a passing thought lit up his mellow features.
"-why, are you thirsty?" He grinned, "I suppose I owe you for lending a hand back there. Quite the clever trick... pissed the mad fellow off to the high heavens, too- aaahahah. Had enough of his blathering on about his 'dominion' over the power of humanity... tch. 'Chosen of Manisa', my arse-- and of course he was just cowering under all that armour."
"To think, I'd even half-considered becoming one of his caged birds long ago... Least he got a taste of real willpower at the end, eh?"
There was a curious glint in his eye as he inspected the weary paladin, leaning forward in his seat with his head tilted.
"Roughed up as I was at the end, I most certainly went down laughing... but, you of all people...? Guess looks can be deceiving-- hm. I think I like the cut of your jib."
"Don't think I introduced myself proper before-- Arthur Cheng Long. Mercenary, blacksmith. Bit of teaching in there, too." After wiping the rim of his bottle with the end of his shirt, he offered it forward, swishing it once.
"-and welcome to Regiment 1-31."
As his eyes wandered, he took in the sight of Saul's belongings: the details and wear on his armor told him the man had been through a few other adventures before arriving here... naturally... but he lingered especially on the sorry state of the man's sword. He was wielding that thing while facing the Champion? He could barely even call it a sword at that point... but rather than casting a look of derision or disgust, he seemed more impressed than anything; and remembering something, a passing thought lit up his mellow features.
"-why, are you thirsty?" He grinned, "I suppose I owe you for lending a hand back there. Quite the clever trick... pissed the mad fellow off to the high heavens, too- aaahahah. Had enough of his blathering on about his 'dominion' over the power of humanity... tch. 'Chosen of Manisa', my arse-- and of course he was just cowering under all that armour."
"To think, I'd even half-considered becoming one of his caged birds long ago... Least he got a taste of real willpower at the end, eh?"
There was a curious glint in his eye as he inspected the weary paladin, leaning forward in his seat with his head tilted.
"Roughed up as I was at the end, I most certainly went down laughing... but, you of all people...? Guess looks can be deceiving-- hm. I think I like the cut of your jib."
"Don't think I introduced myself proper before-- Arthur Cheng Long. Mercenary, blacksmith. Bit of teaching in there, too." After wiping the rim of his bottle with the end of his shirt, he offered it forward, swishing it once.
"-and welcome to Regiment 1-31."
- meta
- Posts : 23
Join date : 2018-12-03
Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Sat Jul 13, 2019 4:01 pm
Saul's smirk grew a little.
"Saul, of the Order of Aethon Sol. Punishing sorcerers and blasphemers is my day job."
Strolling over to sit on the cot across from Arthur's, the paladin took the proffered bottle and downed a swig of liquor before handing it back. The drink was definitely strong, but after a few days' worth of bland rations, he'd take whatever he could get.
"So, you're a blacksmith, huh."
Almost against his will, the paladin glanced at his sacred sword, now sheathed and hanging from the edge of his cot. His own skills in smithing were... mediocre at best. If he was going to repair the blessed blade, he would probably need help, and it seemed that Iros wanted him to find help from humans this time around.
Still, for a moment, he hesitated. Was this quest one he was meant to undertake on his own? His god's intentions were unclear, and he cursed himself for the confusion that clouded his mind and prevented him from understanding Iros' will. His former self would never have been so lost. Was this how the unfaithful felt all the time?
With an effort of will, the paladin shrugged off his doubts. One of the teachings of Aethon Sol was humility, and that meant acknowledging that he alone was just as powerless as any other man. Only through the guidance of Iros could he find true purpose, and Iros often worked in mysterious ways. Infidel or not, this blacksmith must have been set in his path for a reason.
"Well, since you mentioned owing me one," Saul began, his tone wry but serious. "I may be a swordsman, but a smith I'm not. Because of my own failure, my holy sword - the symbol of my devotion to Iros - is broken. I have to take responsibility and restore it to its rightful glory, and I can't do it on my own. Mind lending a hand?"
"Saul, of the Order of Aethon Sol. Punishing sorcerers and blasphemers is my day job."
Strolling over to sit on the cot across from Arthur's, the paladin took the proffered bottle and downed a swig of liquor before handing it back. The drink was definitely strong, but after a few days' worth of bland rations, he'd take whatever he could get.
"So, you're a blacksmith, huh."
Almost against his will, the paladin glanced at his sacred sword, now sheathed and hanging from the edge of his cot. His own skills in smithing were... mediocre at best. If he was going to repair the blessed blade, he would probably need help, and it seemed that Iros wanted him to find help from humans this time around.
Still, for a moment, he hesitated. Was this quest one he was meant to undertake on his own? His god's intentions were unclear, and he cursed himself for the confusion that clouded his mind and prevented him from understanding Iros' will. His former self would never have been so lost. Was this how the unfaithful felt all the time?
With an effort of will, the paladin shrugged off his doubts. One of the teachings of Aethon Sol was humility, and that meant acknowledging that he alone was just as powerless as any other man. Only through the guidance of Iros could he find true purpose, and Iros often worked in mysterious ways. Infidel or not, this blacksmith must have been set in his path for a reason.
"Well, since you mentioned owing me one," Saul began, his tone wry but serious. "I may be a swordsman, but a smith I'm not. Because of my own failure, my holy sword - the symbol of my devotion to Iros - is broken. I have to take responsibility and restore it to its rightful glory, and I can't do it on my own. Mind lending a hand?"
- [VIOLET]
- Posts : 190
Join date : 2018-08-04
Age : 24
Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Sat Jul 13, 2019 11:44 pm
"Hm! Never heard of it. Must be foreign... but Saul, Saul... I shall surely remember that."
Arthur took back the bottle from Saul and gave it a quick swig himself before resting it at his side, a thoughtful expression playing across his face. Mm... this might have been the project he'd been waiting for- to get him back in front of the forge again. He was starting to miss the heat, after all these long months...
"It'll take some work, and none I'll do entirely for free... judging by what I saw, I'm expecting we'll have to recast the blade entirely," he considered. "-but, I am interested. Been wanting an excuse to get back to the forge, never found anything quite stimulating enough... However, unless your blade was cast out of miscellaneous scrap,"
-his mind wandered back to that strange gray broadsword that he'd been handed a while before, just the feeling of holding so... oddly lacking-
"-which is the only material we seem to have available here for smelting... I'll have to do a bit of shopping, on the morrow." His nose twitched, and he shook his head- no, he wasn't quite in the mood to be calculating material and labor costs just yet. Not when he was finally starting to relax. "-but that's talk for later... Why don't you, ah... leave it with me for now, since we're off-duty this week? I'd like to take a look once I've had a chance to rest-- there ought to be a serviceable blade waiting for you in our treasury in the meantime, if you need one. And, perhaps, you could tell me a bit about what exactly it used to be..."
Arthur took back the bottle from Saul and gave it a quick swig himself before resting it at his side, a thoughtful expression playing across his face. Mm... this might have been the project he'd been waiting for- to get him back in front of the forge again. He was starting to miss the heat, after all these long months...
"It'll take some work, and none I'll do entirely for free... judging by what I saw, I'm expecting we'll have to recast the blade entirely," he considered. "-but, I am interested. Been wanting an excuse to get back to the forge, never found anything quite stimulating enough... However, unless your blade was cast out of miscellaneous scrap,"
-his mind wandered back to that strange gray broadsword that he'd been handed a while before, just the feeling of holding so... oddly lacking-
"-which is the only material we seem to have available here for smelting... I'll have to do a bit of shopping, on the morrow." His nose twitched, and he shook his head- no, he wasn't quite in the mood to be calculating material and labor costs just yet. Not when he was finally starting to relax. "-but that's talk for later... Why don't you, ah... leave it with me for now, since we're off-duty this week? I'd like to take a look once I've had a chance to rest-- there ought to be a serviceable blade waiting for you in our treasury in the meantime, if you need one. And, perhaps, you could tell me a bit about what exactly it used to be..."
- [VIOLET]
- Posts : 190
Join date : 2018-08-04
Age : 24
Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Thu Nov 28, 2019 3:25 pm
"I'd feel worthless."
Even if it was just for a fraction of a second, Arthur saw it again-- fire. A low blaze; quiet, but warm, steady, resilient against the wind whistling above them...
...his features fell. There was no need to mull over it any further, after hearing those words.
"...very well," he relented. "Come. I'll show you how to stand."
---
Location: Blank Room | Time: One day after the suppression of the Colossus of De Zum Ri
If Bran had nothing further to add, Arthur would leave his gardening gloves by the flowerpot and lead him back to one of the Castle's empty rooms. Judging by the traces of damage scattered about its space (ash, scratches, and other impressions of weapons or magic), it seemed to be used frequently enough that nobody would have any problems with them being there... Along the way, he picked up a pair of tall sticks from the back of the garden: scrap from the forest not sturdy enough to craft or build with, but handy for supporting tall stalks or vines...
Though they'd been stripped of their bark, leaving mostly just the smooth surface underneath, they still had raised areas that once would have split off into smaller branches, and were stained a faint green with lichen... Arthur didn't pay it any mind, however, as he settled with one stick into a sturdy stance, leaving the other on the floor next to him.
His hands braced forward around the makeshift staff (left behind the right), he spread his feet to a steady width, one in front of the other, head and shoulders poised forward but his waist turned to the left... front knee forward, with the right foot curved slightly towards his left; back knee slightly downward, it and the foot aligned more with his waist.
Between his hands, the staff was angled downward from his shoulder, as if he were ready to plunge it into the floor just in front of his foot. To swing it, a majority of the guiding force came from the hand he placed on the back end-- his left-- his motions decisive, quick, powerful..!
It had been a while... but that felt about right. Satisfied, he relaxed out of the stance and returned his attention to Bran.
"-right. Take the other one, and we'll start. Are you right-handed..?"
He spoke concisely, always direct- but he would move forward only when Bran appeared ready for it. First, he'd guide him into the base stance, pushing and prodding with the end of his staff or his unoccupied right hand to correct him where it was needed. If Bran was right-handed, he'd have to mirror the stance Arthur had taken... he had no doubt, however, that the scholar would pick it up quickly nonetheless.
Even if it was just for a fraction of a second, Arthur saw it again-- fire. A low blaze; quiet, but warm, steady, resilient against the wind whistling above them...
...his features fell. There was no need to mull over it any further, after hearing those words.
"...very well," he relented. "Come. I'll show you how to stand."
---
Location: Blank Room | Time: One day after the suppression of the Colossus of De Zum Ri
If Bran had nothing further to add, Arthur would leave his gardening gloves by the flowerpot and lead him back to one of the Castle's empty rooms. Judging by the traces of damage scattered about its space (ash, scratches, and other impressions of weapons or magic), it seemed to be used frequently enough that nobody would have any problems with them being there... Along the way, he picked up a pair of tall sticks from the back of the garden: scrap from the forest not sturdy enough to craft or build with, but handy for supporting tall stalks or vines...
Though they'd been stripped of their bark, leaving mostly just the smooth surface underneath, they still had raised areas that once would have split off into smaller branches, and were stained a faint green with lichen... Arthur didn't pay it any mind, however, as he settled with one stick into a sturdy stance, leaving the other on the floor next to him.
His hands braced forward around the makeshift staff (left behind the right), he spread his feet to a steady width, one in front of the other, head and shoulders poised forward but his waist turned to the left... front knee forward, with the right foot curved slightly towards his left; back knee slightly downward, it and the foot aligned more with his waist.
Between his hands, the staff was angled downward from his shoulder, as if he were ready to plunge it into the floor just in front of his foot. To swing it, a majority of the guiding force came from the hand he placed on the back end-- his left-- his motions decisive, quick, powerful..!
It had been a while... but that felt about right. Satisfied, he relaxed out of the stance and returned his attention to Bran.
"-right. Take the other one, and we'll start. Are you right-handed..?"
He spoke concisely, always direct- but he would move forward only when Bran appeared ready for it. First, he'd guide him into the base stance, pushing and prodding with the end of his staff or his unoccupied right hand to correct him where it was needed. If Bran was right-handed, he'd have to mirror the stance Arthur had taken... he had no doubt, however, that the scholar would pick it up quickly nonetheless.
GM_3826- Posts : 146
Join date : 2018-08-05
Age : 24
Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Fri Nov 29, 2019 10:01 am
After Arthur answered him, Bran briefly smiled before settling into a neutral expression. He was awfully quiet as he followed Arthur, his steps light and airy. As Arthur began to practice, Bran watched intently, studying his movements.
Mind over matter. There's no way I'll be able to copy him exactly. Not at this stage. But the more I pay attention, the more I'll learn from him.
After he finished, Bran smiled once again. It was a small one. Not so much a grin or even a smirk. Bran was excited, but he chose not to let that overwhelm him so he could more easily focus.
"I prefer my left hand, actually. Why do you ask? Does it change my footwork in any way?"
Bran had already picked up on the answer. He was only a beginner, so he wasn't certain, but he had been paying enough attention to notice that Arthur's dominant hand seemed to be his left.
...This is bound to be tougher than it looks. Five seconds of study aren't going to make up for years of sloped posture... And this is a lot more exercise than I'm used to. Still, not like Arthur didn't work hard, himself. I won't match him at this rate. I simply don't have the time. But if I work as hard as I can... That might be enough.
Mind over matter. There's no way I'll be able to copy him exactly. Not at this stage. But the more I pay attention, the more I'll learn from him.
After he finished, Bran smiled once again. It was a small one. Not so much a grin or even a smirk. Bran was excited, but he chose not to let that overwhelm him so he could more easily focus.
"I prefer my left hand, actually. Why do you ask? Does it change my footwork in any way?"
Bran had already picked up on the answer. He was only a beginner, so he wasn't certain, but he had been paying enough attention to notice that Arthur's dominant hand seemed to be his left.
...This is bound to be tougher than it looks. Five seconds of study aren't going to make up for years of sloped posture... And this is a lot more exercise than I'm used to. Still, not like Arthur didn't work hard, himself. I won't match him at this rate. I simply don't have the time. But if I work as hard as I can... That might be enough.
- [VIOLET]
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Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Fri Nov 29, 2019 4:20 pm
Arthur's eyebrows raised in mild surprise- left handed as well, was he? Small world... the coincidence of it, though, brought him an amused smirk.
"Oh? Hm-- that makes things a bit easier."
"You will lead with your non-dominant side," he explained, modelling the stance again. His broad shoulders angled downward from his left side, "and your dominant side shall be where your movement takes root. Like so..."
-another test strike: as the leading end of his staff popped upwards, his body sprung for a fraction of a second-- the angle of his shoulders matching the direction of movement. He also 'pounced' forward onto his right knee, ever so slightly, lending his movement more force; but settled quickly back into the initial position afterwards.
"You can do this in the opposite orientation... but it is best that we begin in the position that feels most comfortable. That way, you don't contort, attempting to correct to left-handed movements while in a right-handed stance... yes?"
From then on, he continued moving idly: retreating two steps with a low, skipping movement (initiated from his left side) that still kept his feet aligned; guarding by raising his staff overhead.
"The first stance is your anchor. When your feet are steady upon the ground, yet prepared to move, and the range of movement in your upper body is uninhibited... the widest variety of options become available to you. In that sense- if you were to perfect this, so long as you manage to keep your head on straight, the rest should naturally fall into place."
"...that being said... the opponent's goal is to break your stance by forcing you into motion-- limiting your movement-- and then striking where you are weak."
He turned back to Bran, stern, striking his own upper thigh with a fist, "So this, first, must become strong. Your roots."
"Then this," He straightened his back, gesturing towards his upper body- then lifted his weapon. "-and when that is done, this can finally begin to grow."
"Alright? If you can accept that... we will proceed."
"Oh? Hm-- that makes things a bit easier."
"You will lead with your non-dominant side," he explained, modelling the stance again. His broad shoulders angled downward from his left side, "and your dominant side shall be where your movement takes root. Like so..."
-another test strike: as the leading end of his staff popped upwards, his body sprung for a fraction of a second-- the angle of his shoulders matching the direction of movement. He also 'pounced' forward onto his right knee, ever so slightly, lending his movement more force; but settled quickly back into the initial position afterwards.
"You can do this in the opposite orientation... but it is best that we begin in the position that feels most comfortable. That way, you don't contort, attempting to correct to left-handed movements while in a right-handed stance... yes?"
From then on, he continued moving idly: retreating two steps with a low, skipping movement (initiated from his left side) that still kept his feet aligned; guarding by raising his staff overhead.
"The first stance is your anchor. When your feet are steady upon the ground, yet prepared to move, and the range of movement in your upper body is uninhibited... the widest variety of options become available to you. In that sense- if you were to perfect this, so long as you manage to keep your head on straight, the rest should naturally fall into place."
"...that being said... the opponent's goal is to break your stance by forcing you into motion-- limiting your movement-- and then striking where you are weak."
He turned back to Bran, stern, striking his own upper thigh with a fist, "So this, first, must become strong. Your roots."
"Then this," He straightened his back, gesturing towards his upper body- then lifted his weapon. "-and when that is done, this can finally begin to grow."
"Alright? If you can accept that... we will proceed."
- [VIOLET]
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Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Thu Feb 13, 2020 12:40 am
Location: Castle High Hallway, Recon Offices | Time: Three days after apprehending the Demon of Silence
For a few days, Arthur seemed to have vanished again. He wasn't absent so much as he was irregular: working in the smithy only late at night or early in the morning, sleeping deeply during hours where most of Regiment 1-31 ought to be out and about, dodging the mess hall in favor of meager meals of jerky, crackers, and (an unusual accompaniment to this survivalist diet) strawberry wine, to be consumed while he worked. Some mornings, perhaps a few particularly eagle-eyed members of the Castle's staff might have seen him passed out somewhere among the castle's outer walls, accompanied only by an empty bottle and a thermal blanket.
Not one to drag Bran along on his frenzied schedule, he simply left the young scholar alone for a time... The uncertainty quietly haunting his features would be all he could muster in response to any query about their next training meeting.
When he wasn't working, sleeping, or drinking, he was out in the Castle's garden, tending to a side project. His took a meager six square feet of dirt-- an assurance that he wasn't about to intrude on the work of Yam or any of the Castle's other garden-savvy folk-- and consisted of a trial group of six golden flowers perfectly suited for a high altitude...
All of them seemed to do well enough; though of the six, he took only one. The healthiest of them all, which had also sprouted a second flowering stem, was to be introduced gently to a clay pot and taken high up in the Castle...
One upside to his winding jogging route was that he'd nailed down most of the Castle's layout without ever "needing" to pay its many branches a visit. Finding Candice during the daytime wouldn't be a difficult task at all... and, certainly, it wouldn't be hard for her to find him among the thin crowd with a cheerful potted flower nestled in his hands.
For a few days, Arthur seemed to have vanished again. He wasn't absent so much as he was irregular: working in the smithy only late at night or early in the morning, sleeping deeply during hours where most of Regiment 1-31 ought to be out and about, dodging the mess hall in favor of meager meals of jerky, crackers, and (an unusual accompaniment to this survivalist diet) strawberry wine, to be consumed while he worked. Some mornings, perhaps a few particularly eagle-eyed members of the Castle's staff might have seen him passed out somewhere among the castle's outer walls, accompanied only by an empty bottle and a thermal blanket.
Not one to drag Bran along on his frenzied schedule, he simply left the young scholar alone for a time... The uncertainty quietly haunting his features would be all he could muster in response to any query about their next training meeting.
When he wasn't working, sleeping, or drinking, he was out in the Castle's garden, tending to a side project. His took a meager six square feet of dirt-- an assurance that he wasn't about to intrude on the work of Yam or any of the Castle's other garden-savvy folk-- and consisted of a trial group of six golden flowers perfectly suited for a high altitude...
All of them seemed to do well enough; though of the six, he took only one. The healthiest of them all, which had also sprouted a second flowering stem, was to be introduced gently to a clay pot and taken high up in the Castle...
One upside to his winding jogging route was that he'd nailed down most of the Castle's layout without ever "needing" to pay its many branches a visit. Finding Candice during the daytime wouldn't be a difficult task at all... and, certainly, it wouldn't be hard for her to find him among the thin crowd with a cheerful potted flower nestled in his hands.
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Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Fri Feb 14, 2020 9:31 am
The juxtaposed sound of calm conversation and fervent orders confirmed that Arthur had made his way to the halls of the Reconnaissance Division. In the many labelled rooms dotting the hallway and those surrounding were members of the Recon Division -- some carefully studying photographs and reports, others in tight circles discussing research materials, and still others yelling through communication devices to field agents (apparently in some sort of danger). Rooms bore labels such as "Northern Observation Materials", "De-Zum-Ri Investigation HQ", and "Office of Comm. Scarlett" (the labels a necessary measure for the division's complex work flow). The entire operation had an anxious energy to it, as if everyone were working to meet a deadline they didn't know the time of.
After a minute or so, he would come across one such room labelled "Office of Lieut. Candice." The door to the office was propped open, the quiet sound of a pen attacking paper the only sound emanating from the room. As he entered, he'd find Candice behind a large desk, three different stacks of papers placed at its corners, with another directly in front of her. Her suit jacket hung on a nearby coat rack, leaving her wearing a white dress shirt with its sleeves rolled up, top button undone, and her purple tie loosely dangling around her neck. Working with quiet diligence, she stopped only to occasionally look through a small, telescope-like object at rest beside her.
As she heard someone enter, she responded without looking up, "if you're bringing a report, just leave it in the pile on your left. I understand situations are hectic these days, but in the future, please turn in your report on time. Retroactive reporting puts more work on Regiment 4-15, and we already ask enough of them. If it becomes a continuing problem, I'm afraid I'll have to inform Commander Scarlett."
After a minute or so, he would come across one such room labelled "Office of Lieut. Candice." The door to the office was propped open, the quiet sound of a pen attacking paper the only sound emanating from the room. As he entered, he'd find Candice behind a large desk, three different stacks of papers placed at its corners, with another directly in front of her. Her suit jacket hung on a nearby coat rack, leaving her wearing a white dress shirt with its sleeves rolled up, top button undone, and her purple tie loosely dangling around her neck. Working with quiet diligence, she stopped only to occasionally look through a small, telescope-like object at rest beside her.
As she heard someone enter, she responded without looking up, "if you're bringing a report, just leave it in the pile on your left. I understand situations are hectic these days, but in the future, please turn in your report on time. Retroactive reporting puts more work on Regiment 4-15, and we already ask enough of them. If it becomes a continuing problem, I'm afraid I'll have to inform Commander Scarlett."
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Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Fri Feb 14, 2020 10:54 am
Admittedly, Arthur did feel a little out-of-place in this clean, quiet hall; especially after just coming up from the gardens in a white t-shirt and loose-fitted, high-waisted hemp pants, both speckled inevitably in some parts with droplets of water and dirt, and slightly damp with sweat. Even with the wind and cold of these altitudes, there was no avoiding it... but the swordsman didn't shrink away-- he simply remained respectfully out of the way of the Recon Division's activities, trying his best not to be a distraction.
...but, Candice was not outside... hhhmgh. The doors were labelled...
...maybe he did start to look a little sheepish, at that point. His dark eyes narrowed as he scanned the doors ( Comm Ssgg...rrr-quīquī... wait, no- ehh, probably not that one... though she was foreign, wasn't she? Maybe Lieut Cor-rin... no... why were these listed by first name? Maybe that was hers and the 'Dis' was a middle or surname? ), all while trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible... an endeavor which, given a fair majority of everyone had something far more dire to focus on, likely didn't amount to much.
Eventually he did find her-- not by any successful reading, unfortunately, but by a peek through an open door... and the curt greeting which immediately followed his careful entrance.
The beginning of a smirk tugged at the edge of his face:
"Oh my, have mercy... If I've got paperwork to turn in, I believe both of us would be in a spot of trouble." He let out a low chuckle, shifting his weight to lean gently on the doorframe. "No... just a proposal-- but if now is a bad time..."
...but, Candice was not outside... hhhmgh. The doors were labelled...
...maybe he did start to look a little sheepish, at that point. His dark eyes narrowed as he scanned the doors ( Comm Ssgg...rrr-quīquī... wait, no- ehh, probably not that one... though she was foreign, wasn't she? Maybe Lieut Cor-rin... no... why were these listed by first name? Maybe that was hers and the 'Dis' was a middle or surname? ), all while trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible... an endeavor which, given a fair majority of everyone had something far more dire to focus on, likely didn't amount to much.
Eventually he did find her-- not by any successful reading, unfortunately, but by a peek through an open door... and the curt greeting which immediately followed his careful entrance.
The beginning of a smirk tugged at the edge of his face:
"Oh my, have mercy... If I've got paperwork to turn in, I believe both of us would be in a spot of trouble." He let out a low chuckle, shifting his weight to lean gently on the doorframe. "No... just a proposal-- but if now is a bad time..."
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Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Sat Feb 29, 2020 9:32 pm
The woman behind the desk seemed to light up at the voice, flinching up to look, "oh, Arthur!" She was surprised to see him, though not unhappy. "No, now's not a bad time at all," she motioned to her workspace, "I've got at least another hour of filing reconnaissance reports. A few minutes of conversation might do well to keep me sane." She returned him a smile, "please, you can take a seat over there," she nodded her head to a set of three plain-looking chairs against one of the walls. "I'll just finish this last report."
"Normally I might ask you to excuse my unprofessional appearance, but, well," she looked him up and down once more, a light snicker, "I suppose neither of us has much grounds to be embarrassed there."
She dropped her pen and rose from her chair, coming around to lean against the front of the desk. She crossed her arms, "so, what sort of proposal did you have in-- oh," she blinked, having just noticed the clay pot in his hands. "That's a beautiful flower, Arthur." Her smile grew, "I'd say it almost suits you, some extra energy and color." She stepped closer, leaning forward to examine the plant, "I don't think I've seen any like it in the Castle's garden... is that where you're taking it?" She asked, looking back up toward him.
"Normally I might ask you to excuse my unprofessional appearance, but, well," she looked him up and down once more, a light snicker, "I suppose neither of us has much grounds to be embarrassed there."
She dropped her pen and rose from her chair, coming around to lean against the front of the desk. She crossed her arms, "so, what sort of proposal did you have in-- oh," she blinked, having just noticed the clay pot in his hands. "That's a beautiful flower, Arthur." Her smile grew, "I'd say it almost suits you, some extra energy and color." She stepped closer, leaning forward to examine the plant, "I don't think I've seen any like it in the Castle's garden... is that where you're taking it?" She asked, looking back up toward him.
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Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Sun Mar 01, 2020 1:46 am
Arthur's own subtle smile had widened little more at the sight of Candice turning around towards him so suddenly, her pensive expression broken by a flash of pleasant surprise-- if he didn't know any better, he might have even told her she looked cuter than usual today just to mess with her. Though, being perfectly honest, there was at least some measure of effort put in towards not looking too long at her loosened tie...
Smirking to himself, he took the seat closest to Candice's desk, one leg crossed over the other.
"They're called Aquilegia." The swordsman turned the pot between his fingers, examining the flower's odd, double-tiered blooms closely. "Waited a bit to see if they'd stay alive up here, and they seem alright..."
His features softened as he brushed gently against the bottom of one of its petals with the back of a dry hand, a fond smile settling on his face.
"Mountain wildflowers, these ones: I remembered a patch of them had been growing on the trail a mile out from Vernia and took some cuttings back with me before we left... been trying to grow them since."
"So, no-- they're coming up from the garden, rather..." he looked back up at her, "-to you, ideally. They're quite tough, so you shouldn't have to fuss over them too much... and, if you happen to be too busy, I could come by to take a look every now and then. Just a small bit of water 'round this dish at the bottom every week ought to do it, though."
He pointed out a dishlike extension attached to the bottom of the pot (raising it for Candice to examine more closely if she wished), with just enough space where they were fixed together to allow water to trickle in underneath.
"-what do you say? Too much of a burden?"
Smirking to himself, he took the seat closest to Candice's desk, one leg crossed over the other.
"They're called Aquilegia." The swordsman turned the pot between his fingers, examining the flower's odd, double-tiered blooms closely. "Waited a bit to see if they'd stay alive up here, and they seem alright..."
His features softened as he brushed gently against the bottom of one of its petals with the back of a dry hand, a fond smile settling on his face.
"Mountain wildflowers, these ones: I remembered a patch of them had been growing on the trail a mile out from Vernia and took some cuttings back with me before we left... been trying to grow them since."
"So, no-- they're coming up from the garden, rather..." he looked back up at her, "-to you, ideally. They're quite tough, so you shouldn't have to fuss over them too much... and, if you happen to be too busy, I could come by to take a look every now and then. Just a small bit of water 'round this dish at the bottom every week ought to do it, though."
He pointed out a dishlike extension attached to the bottom of the pot (raising it for Candice to examine more closely if she wished), with just enough space where they were fixed together to allow water to trickle in underneath.
"-what do you say? Too much of a burden?"
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Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Fri Mar 06, 2020 5:54 pm
Candice went from surprised to outright shocked -- her limb fins extended as her eyes widened. "F-for me? You-- I-I mean..."
She stopped herself for a moment, blinking a few times to collect her thoughts and let out a breath. Suddenly realizing he response might have been taken the wrong way, she raised her hands, "sorry about that! I just, really wasn't expecting this. Wow." She smiled broadly, an openness created by the unexpected gesture. "It's... been a while since someone got me any sort of gift. And even back then, it oft felt like more of a professional courtesy... a-anyway! Absolutely -- oh, not absolutely a burden," she stumbled, "I mean, I'd absolutely like it, yes!"
She took the pot carefully, inspecting the flower-- the Aquilegia, more closely. This was for her... Arthur grew this for her. Putting it plainly like that only made her smile grow -- she had worried that their time at the Emerald Coast had only been an isolated event. Ever since, Arthur seemed to spend all his time at the forge or other busy work. Yet despite all that, he found the time to grow her a flower...
She looked back up at him, "you really are a man full of surprises, Arthur. Thank you so much," she gave him a short bow, quicker than usual. She let out a little laugh, "you must have been quite a sight, wandering the halls with this little flower in tow. You should be careful, however," she smirked, "you might give a lady the wrong idea, bringing her beautiful flowers. A woman's heart is no play thing." She kept her composure for a moment longer, then laughed at her own joke.
She scanned the room, "now, where to put you... ah, I know," she decided. Candice approached her desk and pushed aside one of the stacks of papers, depositing the flower with a satisfied nod. "With the window open, sunlight should reach it for a good few hours around sun-down. Hopefully that should be sufficient."
"And, considering the trouble you went through growing and caring for this flower," she walked back over to Arthur's chair, still glowing with appreciation, "I would be remiss to not manage watering it once a week." She hesitated a moment, then added, "although, if you happen to be around, I wouldn't mind you stopping by to ensure it's thriving." She looked back at her crowded desk, a bit of that glow diminishing. "In sincerity, it's quite refreshing to have someone come through that door who isn't sharing terrible news or giving me more work." She turned back to him, "I'm sure you'll find this difficult to believe, but I have a tendency to get a bit 'lost' in my work. Which, is probably not the best for me." She admitted, a hint of shame. "So, if you are passing by, I would certainly enjoy the visit."
She stopped herself for a moment, blinking a few times to collect her thoughts and let out a breath. Suddenly realizing he response might have been taken the wrong way, she raised her hands, "sorry about that! I just, really wasn't expecting this. Wow." She smiled broadly, an openness created by the unexpected gesture. "It's... been a while since someone got me any sort of gift. And even back then, it oft felt like more of a professional courtesy... a-anyway! Absolutely -- oh, not absolutely a burden," she stumbled, "I mean, I'd absolutely like it, yes!"
She took the pot carefully, inspecting the flower-- the Aquilegia, more closely. This was for her... Arthur grew this for her. Putting it plainly like that only made her smile grow -- she had worried that their time at the Emerald Coast had only been an isolated event. Ever since, Arthur seemed to spend all his time at the forge or other busy work. Yet despite all that, he found the time to grow her a flower...
She looked back up at him, "you really are a man full of surprises, Arthur. Thank you so much," she gave him a short bow, quicker than usual. She let out a little laugh, "you must have been quite a sight, wandering the halls with this little flower in tow. You should be careful, however," she smirked, "you might give a lady the wrong idea, bringing her beautiful flowers. A woman's heart is no play thing." She kept her composure for a moment longer, then laughed at her own joke.
She scanned the room, "now, where to put you... ah, I know," she decided. Candice approached her desk and pushed aside one of the stacks of papers, depositing the flower with a satisfied nod. "With the window open, sunlight should reach it for a good few hours around sun-down. Hopefully that should be sufficient."
"And, considering the trouble you went through growing and caring for this flower," she walked back over to Arthur's chair, still glowing with appreciation, "I would be remiss to not manage watering it once a week." She hesitated a moment, then added, "although, if you happen to be around, I wouldn't mind you stopping by to ensure it's thriving." She looked back at her crowded desk, a bit of that glow diminishing. "In sincerity, it's quite refreshing to have someone come through that door who isn't sharing terrible news or giving me more work." She turned back to him, "I'm sure you'll find this difficult to believe, but I have a tendency to get a bit 'lost' in my work. Which, is probably not the best for me." She admitted, a hint of shame. "So, if you are passing by, I would certainly enjoy the visit."
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Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Sun Mar 08, 2020 11:01 pm
Arthur rolled his eyes at Candice's joke; but, as he continued to relax in his seat (the soreness from walking all this way was starting to sink in), a quiet tranquility settled over him. Her glee in recieving the gift came as a genuine relief: flowers were commitments-- a fact he knew all too well from the little disaster that struck his backyard back when he lived in Fiaba... and while she didn't seem to be looking to stretch herself even thinner between additional burdens, flowers also had their own way of giving back all the small efforts put into maintaining them... Seeing her look so excited was a pleasant start.
"Mhm?" He angled his head towards one shoulder, looking up at her again. "You ought to get yourself an assistant. I've seen Bran lollygagging over in the training rooms with his little familiar now and then, you know... Smart boy, that one, always eager to rise up to the task when someone is in need. Probably needs more to do with that big brain of his."
Crossing his arms, Arthur let his head tilt back until it bumped against the wall.
"Seems a bit unfair though, does it? If I'm correct, you woke up in the castle out of nowhere, just like the rest of us... Now you're cooped up here, pushing papers in a campaign to save the country from four demons coming from all sides, one of which is headed straight for us."
He paused--then, continuing to stare at the ceiling, he spoke again, his voice a touch gentler.
"...I was wandering east when the Castle uprooted me," he began, "I had given up my home and my business... didn't exactly have much going on. Weren't you doing something before you got here, though?"
"Mhm?" He angled his head towards one shoulder, looking up at her again. "You ought to get yourself an assistant. I've seen Bran lollygagging over in the training rooms with his little familiar now and then, you know... Smart boy, that one, always eager to rise up to the task when someone is in need. Probably needs more to do with that big brain of his."
Crossing his arms, Arthur let his head tilt back until it bumped against the wall.
"Seems a bit unfair though, does it? If I'm correct, you woke up in the castle out of nowhere, just like the rest of us... Now you're cooped up here, pushing papers in a campaign to save the country from four demons coming from all sides, one of which is headed straight for us."
He paused--then, continuing to stare at the ceiling, he spoke again, his voice a touch gentler.
"...I was wandering east when the Castle uprooted me," he began, "I had given up my home and my business... didn't exactly have much going on. Weren't you doing something before you got here, though?"
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Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Thu Mar 19, 2020 7:31 pm
Arthur's suggestion of Bran lending a hand... oh, come to think of it, hadn't Scarlett mentioned the scholar being a great help when studying the Del-Zum-Ri? She was loathe to push responsibilities she'd agreed to onto others, but if he was interested, perhaps it would be good for her. She had to be a bit more conscious of overburdening herself.
"Before I got here?" she repeated hesitantly, shaking her head, "no, I wasn't performing much of note. Two full time jobs kept me fed and busy... which was most of what I was concerned with." She sat up with a slight smart, raising an eyebrow, "Oh, I never did elaborate on what I started at the Emerald Coast, did I? Apologies for that. It's... a memory I try my best not to dwell within."
Her eyes suddenly widened, apparently remembering Arthur's presence. She sunk a bit further backward into her seat, "apologies. Um, anyways. Getting picked up by Castle High was likely helpful for me. Some mindless but important work," she nodded toward the papers, "that don't put me at the forefront. To be honest... it was part of the reason I volunteered to leave the Regiment. Too important of decisions to make there to entrust to me."
She looked back over at Arthur, letting out a breath, "I hope my cowardice doesn't sour your opinion of me too much -- though I'd understand if it did. There's a reason I haven't told anyone else... that, and burdening others with my failures doesn't help anything."
"Before I got here?" she repeated hesitantly, shaking her head, "no, I wasn't performing much of note. Two full time jobs kept me fed and busy... which was most of what I was concerned with." She sat up with a slight smart, raising an eyebrow, "Oh, I never did elaborate on what I started at the Emerald Coast, did I? Apologies for that. It's... a memory I try my best not to dwell within."
- She recalled the memory...:
- Deciding she be as comfortable as possible, she took a seat in the chair beside Arthur, looking down at her hands. "How best to start... hm, well... I come from a country known as Erewhon. It's a few week's journey from the eastern border. And for as long as any records show, our country was led by a divine monarch." She spoke with her hands, gesturing to the structures she spoke of. "This monarch had control of the Timestep Obelisk, an ancient artifact that allowed them to slow and speed the flow of time." She paused a moment, then quickly added, "ah, apologies, I'm sure this simply sounds like rambling. Well, suffice to say that, after generations of this rule, the people began to grow unhappy. They wished to have a greater say in who they were, and what they would do. They disliked the tax plans and military policies imposed, and grew rebellious of those that ruled."
She put a hand to her chest, trying to focus on continuing her words instead of the stories they carried. "In that chaotic rebellion... well, uhm... I, became a leader, of sorts. I had been a secretary in the palace for half a decade, and I too found the rules of the monarchy backwards and barbaric. When the rebellion gained steam, I came forward to stand with them." She glanced over at him, a weak smile, "you can imagine how disorganized a mob of rebels is. They knew what they wished to accomplish, but hadn't the faintest idea how to reasonably achieve it, apart from storming the gates and killing everyone within. At the time, I was... ergh... let's say, passionate, about the cause. I threw myself into the task, organizing groups by skill and cause, and saw to the seizure of power. I needn't bore you with the details, but in a year's time, the monarchy was no more." Her words became slower, more deliberate, "the people were ready to enact their own, direct will..."
Candice released a sigh from deep in her chest, "...and, they wished for me to be the Relayer of that will."
She continued to stare down at her hands in her lap. "I was a fool, and thought there was no greater honor I could have than to organize the people of Erewhon. Through continuous votes, the citizens brought up individual concerns and issues, and I and my cabinet would see to polling, counting, and executing these votes. Oh, and--" she reached for the pendant around her neck and held it up, "for I to control the Timestep Obelisk. Slowing the flow of time for our people when we need react to the world's dangers, speeding us past natural disasters and calamities..." She coughed, feeling a tightness around her throat, "b-but... it wasn't working. Everyone wished for different things. Farmers wished for more fields, factories wished to replace the fields with higher-yield automation, the poor wished for healthcare services, and the rich wished greater freedom to grow their businesses. The system of simple voting we'd agreed to was being 'gamed' by certain factions to the detriment of others."
Her fists clenched and unclenched as a rare anger entered her voice, "And... and this terrible, idiotic concept began to grow in my mind. That I knew what it was the people needed. That I didn't need a majority of votes from those who hadn't even studied or understood the problems at hand. I thought I knew more than anyone what issues were plaguing us and I knew what needed to happen to fix them, if I could just be allowed to do so." Her anger began to subside into a more despairing sound, "...and so... I... rigged it. I convinced my cabinet to miscount the votes... I altered proposals to match my own desires... and without even stopping to consider the possibility, betrayed all I'd fought for."
She left it quiet there, for a few moments.
"...The rest went as I'm sure you could expect," she began to finish. "Word got out. Some wanted me executed. Still too headstrong, I organized the military to quell the protests -- I wanted no bloodshed, but with tensions as they were, it was inevitable... and in our chaos... we were--" the next word seemed stuck in her throat. After another attempt, she managed, "--invaded, from the south. The army was occupied and tired from the civil fighting, and before I could even activate the Timestep Obelisk-- she couldn't keep back the memories any longer.- It came back vividly...:
- Fires and screams filled the nearby streets as machines of death swept through all in their path. Her heart was beating out of her chest as clutched a simple handgun, her hands shaking too hard to even fire it, as she huddled inside an alcove. Her destination, the Timestep Obelisk, was still at least four blocks away, separated by an army of metal monsters. She saw a small family run into a nearby building while hounded by a machine-gun-wielding soldier. All that followed was a quick burst of gunfire -- not even a scream. That could be her. That would be her, soon. Just some corpse.
The invaders wanted them dead. They were Erewhon's oldest enemies, previously subjugated by the monarchy, and it was clear all they wanted now was vengeance on her people. On her. There wasn't really anything she could do, was there? She would just die like the rest of them if she ran for the obelisk. And besides, half of the country hated her, would kill her themselves. She didn't really owe them anything, did she?
It was only rational, wasn't it?
And as the justifications continued and continued...
"...I fled. I was afraid-- no, terrified.And in that moment... I abandoned everyone I'd committed to protect." She spoke as if in a trance, "They entrusted me with a task, put their faith in me... and I abused and mistreated it, because I thought I was better than them. And it h-hurts to remember that person was me. That I did nothing. In fact, I left with our greatest weapon squarely around my neck, which I didn't even try to use. Whenever I dwell in it, remember all the pain left squarely upon my shoulders because I fled my duty, it makes me just want to pull this pendant tight around my neck and--"
Her eyes suddenly widened, apparently remembering Arthur's presence. She sunk a bit further backward into her seat, "apologies. Um, anyways. Getting picked up by Castle High was likely helpful for me. Some mindless but important work," she nodded toward the papers, "that don't put me at the forefront. To be honest... it was part of the reason I volunteered to leave the Regiment. Too important of decisions to make there to entrust to me."
She looked back over at Arthur, letting out a breath, "I hope my cowardice doesn't sour your opinion of me too much -- though I'd understand if it did. There's a reason I haven't told anyone else... that, and burdening others with my failures doesn't help anything."
- [VIOLET]
- Posts : 190
Join date : 2018-08-04
Age : 24
Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Fri Mar 20, 2020 12:52 am
When Candice looked Arthur's way, she would find him frozen at the peak of a silent but sharp breath: shoulders tensed, fingernails digging into his palms, face locked for a moment too long in an expression almost far too vulnerable to recognize as his.
After realizing he'd been staring at her for about five seconds, he blinked, dipped his head, and ran a hand through his hair towards the back of his neck, where he began idly rubbing at it.
"-ah," he tried to start, but briefly found himself unable to push past a tightness in his chest... damn, this again. After squeezing his eyes shut and taking a quiet breath--in and out--he pressed on slowly, this time fixing his gaze on the door.
"...Candice..." he began, eyelids low. "If there is anything among the countless wrongs I have committed in my life that I regret more than all the rest... it's that I didn't ask the only person who cared about me to burden me with his troubles more."
His mouth opened again, slightly, as if he were about to continue--but in another moment he withdrew, frowning deeply as he found himself at a loss as to what to say. These sorts of hiearchical, political conflicts were beyond him... and if she had found him in any other mood, he would have made it clear he found the concept of government foolish at worst and idealistic at best: people weren't made to comprehend such wide-spanning scales of influence--of course she would be swayed by her "humanness", fins and scales or not. Of course she would find herself motivated selfishly in times of crisis. He doubted that was what she wanted to hear, though...
Sighing, he raised his left hand... hesitating, in case she might recoil at the mere suggestion of a man's touch. If she let him continue, he would set his hand firmly on her shoulder--let her feel the gentle pressure, the weight of his arm, the amicable presence of another person. If not, he would politely return his arms to a cross in front of his chest and lean back.
"I can't claim to know much about politics," he admitted, "or any right or wrong on that massive a scale... but if there's anything I've come to understand in my time here, it is that one can become so deeply transformed by their experiences that they can no longer be the person they were before--no matter how hard they may try. You are a different person today than you were before. That you would admonish your past self and past actions is proof enough... but more than that, you have a soul that burns humbly yet brightly."
The swordsman shrugged, "there are times where you and I disagree about what is proper, sure... but we aren't sitting here as amicably as we are for no reason."
"I'm here because I like... and admire... who you are now." He looked down, unsure of how Candice would take his words. Between her scolding him months back about his shirtless antics, and then her joking right now about giving her a flower, he could never be sure... "Today, you are someone devoted to bettering yourself... and you do so earnestly--growing outward rather than inward when your doubts start to surface. That's just the intuition I have... but, you'll find I'm hardly wrong about this sort of thing."
To that, Arthur allowed himself a small smirk.
"That's all to say..." -he sniffed, wrinkling his nose as he wrung his hands between his knees. "regardless of who or what you were before, you're certainly the farthest thing from a failure right now. As a matter of fact, I envy how much you have managed to accomplish in all this time--as far as I can see, you've only gotten stronger since the last time we talked. Myself, well..."
He turned back up, scratching the back of his head again. "If it's not plain to you now, I'd rather not... you know. Anyway--"
Arthur rose--first his back, then his arms, high over his head--to stretch, letting out a short grunt as he released it. "I shan't keep you from your important work. If you plan on taking a break anytime between now and next sunrise, you might catch me whilst I'm on a walk and tell me about your more recent adventures, hm? I would prefer it to sitting, honestly..."
After realizing he'd been staring at her for about five seconds, he blinked, dipped his head, and ran a hand through his hair towards the back of his neck, where he began idly rubbing at it.
"-ah," he tried to start, but briefly found himself unable to push past a tightness in his chest... damn, this again. After squeezing his eyes shut and taking a quiet breath--in and out--he pressed on slowly, this time fixing his gaze on the door.
"...Candice..." he began, eyelids low. "If there is anything among the countless wrongs I have committed in my life that I regret more than all the rest... it's that I didn't ask the only person who cared about me to burden me with his troubles more."
His mouth opened again, slightly, as if he were about to continue--but in another moment he withdrew, frowning deeply as he found himself at a loss as to what to say. These sorts of hiearchical, political conflicts were beyond him... and if she had found him in any other mood, he would have made it clear he found the concept of government foolish at worst and idealistic at best: people weren't made to comprehend such wide-spanning scales of influence--of course she would be swayed by her "humanness", fins and scales or not. Of course she would find herself motivated selfishly in times of crisis. He doubted that was what she wanted to hear, though...
Sighing, he raised his left hand... hesitating, in case she might recoil at the mere suggestion of a man's touch. If she let him continue, he would set his hand firmly on her shoulder--let her feel the gentle pressure, the weight of his arm, the amicable presence of another person. If not, he would politely return his arms to a cross in front of his chest and lean back.
"I can't claim to know much about politics," he admitted, "or any right or wrong on that massive a scale... but if there's anything I've come to understand in my time here, it is that one can become so deeply transformed by their experiences that they can no longer be the person they were before--no matter how hard they may try. You are a different person today than you were before. That you would admonish your past self and past actions is proof enough... but more than that, you have a soul that burns humbly yet brightly."
The swordsman shrugged, "there are times where you and I disagree about what is proper, sure... but we aren't sitting here as amicably as we are for no reason."
"I'm here because I like... and admire... who you are now." He looked down, unsure of how Candice would take his words. Between her scolding him months back about his shirtless antics, and then her joking right now about giving her a flower, he could never be sure... "Today, you are someone devoted to bettering yourself... and you do so earnestly--growing outward rather than inward when your doubts start to surface. That's just the intuition I have... but, you'll find I'm hardly wrong about this sort of thing."
To that, Arthur allowed himself a small smirk.
"That's all to say..." -he sniffed, wrinkling his nose as he wrung his hands between his knees. "regardless of who or what you were before, you're certainly the farthest thing from a failure right now. As a matter of fact, I envy how much you have managed to accomplish in all this time--as far as I can see, you've only gotten stronger since the last time we talked. Myself, well..."
He turned back up, scratching the back of his head again. "If it's not plain to you now, I'd rather not... you know. Anyway--"
Arthur rose--first his back, then his arms, high over his head--to stretch, letting out a short grunt as he released it. "I shan't keep you from your important work. If you plan on taking a break anytime between now and next sunrise, you might catch me whilst I'm on a walk and tell me about your more recent adventures, hm? I would prefer it to sitting, honestly..."
Mirkwood- Posts : 31
Join date : 2020-04-27
Age : 24
Location : Sorta the mountains
Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Sat May 30, 2020 12:23 am
Nathalia was looking through the regiment assigned storage room inside Castle High. Some of the other members of the regiment had told her that while they were flying to their next location, most of the members of the combat regiments took the time to work on their equipment, using materials that the group had gathered from their battles. She had seen some of the others going in and out of the room, grabbing material and working on it. There was the sorta religous lady, who was part of the team that suggested the surrender, what was her name... Selena or something? No, that wasn't it... Ah well. And that impressive duellist that fought against the Bertillan leader and was also involved with the talking about the terrible results of war and asking for a surrender. His name was... Arrrrrrr....thur. Yeah, that was it. He had come through as well, picking up some of the metal salvaged from the Dreadnought for use in forging. There were a lot of interesting things in the treasury, from metals and guns to stone pieces of artifacts and magical materials. Then Nathalia noticed large pieces of what looked like bone. Fragments of a large creature's skeleton. Then when she looked closer... She could tell from the slight amount of Draconic Energy that was drifting of the fragments that these were dragon bones. Had Castle High fought against a dragon... and won?! She hadn't had a lot of contact with the Dragoons for some time, but surely the slaying of a dragon by a flying fortress would have been something that she would have received news about, right? It had been too long since she had been back to the Dragoon Order in person... Now that she was looking at them, though, they seemed old and slightly worn, despite their impressive strength, as if they had been exposed to the elements for many years. Perhaps this was the result of another group who killed a dragon and then fought against Castle High. Regardless, she had to know where these came from. Now, this being in the regiment's part of the treasury would hopefully mean that one of the other members of the regiment would know where it was from, hopefully.
Nathalia walked into the workshop, carrying the dragon bone fragments and looking among the figures working on forging and crafting equipment for someone she recognized and remembered the name of. Ah, there was Arthur! Or at least hopefully she wasn't screwing up the name. She walked up to the swordsman, who was working on some armor, and spoke up.
"Hey, uh, Arthur, right? Sorry if I'm interrupting you, but I found these pieces of dragon bones, and... I'd like to know where they came from. You see, I'm a Dragoon, and we have a close connection with dragons, so that's why I'm asking."
Nathalia walked into the workshop, carrying the dragon bone fragments and looking among the figures working on forging and crafting equipment for someone she recognized and remembered the name of. Ah, there was Arthur! Or at least hopefully she wasn't screwing up the name. She walked up to the swordsman, who was working on some armor, and spoke up.
"Hey, uh, Arthur, right? Sorry if I'm interrupting you, but I found these pieces of dragon bones, and... I'd like to know where they came from. You see, I'm a Dragoon, and we have a close connection with dragons, so that's why I'm asking."
- [VIOLET]
- Posts : 190
Join date : 2018-08-04
Age : 24
Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Sat May 30, 2020 1:05 am
It had taken some time for Arthur to consider which of the new materials he wanted to try and improve his equipment with: the heavy, mechanical armor Giada made could be modified into something that suited him better with some tweaks... and he couldn't complain about how effective those "Refinement Seals" were. One of them had come into the treasury recently... While he wasn't a magic enthusiast to any degree, to say that the odd magic seal and the Fusion Core hadn't piqued his interest would be dishonest. (How did fusion work? He had half a mind to toss in a gun and that old ten foot pole they picked up from their first outing to make something silly, but surely someone would get on his case for wasting resources...)
His passing interest in alchemy aside, Arthur had settled on returning to the basics: the Logistics Division had salvaged some fine metal from the Dreadnought, and he made sure to get his hands on the best of the batch before anyone else could snatch it out from under him. At the moment, he was standing at his usual spot in the forge, firmly hammering a red-hot piece of metal to fit against a scratched shoulder piece made of sturdy bone. Normally, he would be so absorbed in his work that it might have taken a moment for Nathalia's unfamiliar voice to snap him out of his trance: but once he spotted something moving towards him from the corner of his eye, Arthur began disengaging from his work, lifting his head to meet her.
"Ah, you're the new girl, aren't you? I was wondering when we'd get to meet." The smith flashed a playful smirk, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment to memorize it before turning down towards the dragon bone in her hands. "We salvaged those a few months ago when we crashed the former Dragonskull Colosseum up north. The place was built from the skeleton of an old dragon... though, at least with regard to the bones, I couldn't tell you much more than that."
"...rest assured, the bastard who ran the place is a pile of bones himself now." He let out a quiet chuckle. "I wonder... would your 'Dragoons' happen to know of a Gilded Champion?"
His passing interest in alchemy aside, Arthur had settled on returning to the basics: the Logistics Division had salvaged some fine metal from the Dreadnought, and he made sure to get his hands on the best of the batch before anyone else could snatch it out from under him. At the moment, he was standing at his usual spot in the forge, firmly hammering a red-hot piece of metal to fit against a scratched shoulder piece made of sturdy bone. Normally, he would be so absorbed in his work that it might have taken a moment for Nathalia's unfamiliar voice to snap him out of his trance: but once he spotted something moving towards him from the corner of his eye, Arthur began disengaging from his work, lifting his head to meet her.
"Ah, you're the new girl, aren't you? I was wondering when we'd get to meet." The smith flashed a playful smirk, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment to memorize it before turning down towards the dragon bone in her hands. "We salvaged those a few months ago when we crashed the former Dragonskull Colosseum up north. The place was built from the skeleton of an old dragon... though, at least with regard to the bones, I couldn't tell you much more than that."
"...rest assured, the bastard who ran the place is a pile of bones himself now." He let out a quiet chuckle. "I wonder... would your 'Dragoons' happen to know of a Gilded Champion?"
- Mirkwood
- Posts : 31
Join date : 2020-04-27
Age : 24
Location : Sorta the mountains
Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Sat May 30, 2020 10:03 pm
Nathalia smiled slightly and nodded at the 'new girl' comment. "Yeah, it's nice to meet you properly." Then, when Arthur mentioned the Dragonskull Colosseum, her face shifted to an expression of surprise. "The Dragonskull Colosseum?! You all took down the Gilded Champion? Wow, that's... Um, yeah, the Dragoons do know of the Gilded Champion. He started the Dragonskull Colosseum after killing Irevail, a peaceful and benevolent dragon. He begged for her help with putting out an out of control wildfire that was threatening a town. After Irevail accepted to help, she allowed him to ride on her back as she flew towards the village. On the way to the smoke in the distance, he gave a signal, and she was then attacked by a group of mercenaries that he had hired, who used harpoons of sorts to bring her down, and in the chaos, he was able to use an enchanted blade to strike Irevail in a vital spot. They crashed into the ground, far from any witnesses excepting the mercenaries, and he survived. Irevail slowly bled out, and he secretly used the bones of the dragon to create that horrific arena and the shining armor that made him invincible, using the Draconic Magic and powerful enchantments... This is what I learned from the Dragoons, and it's stuck with me, because it was such an injustice, and desecration of a dragon, and the freedom that they stand for. It wasn't until the Dragonskull Colosseum was completed that the Dragoons heard of it, along with many others. The Gilded Champion, as he called himself, managed to construct this in secrecy. The Dragoons most often act as mediators for dragons and humans, particularly when dragons act more chaotic, so for benevolent dragons such as Irevail, she took care of herself, even keeping a small herd of sheep to eat from. Anyway, the Dragoons at first didn't realize that anything had happened, and so, it was a few weeks until they realized that Irevail hadn't been seen for some time, and they investigated her lair and found no sign of her. But even then, there were times when she was involved with affairs in far off locations before, so if something urgent had come to her attention, it wouldn't be unimaginable that she had gone on another long journey. As time passed, they feared that something had happened, and searched for what could have happened, and learned after some investigation that some mercenaries had had an involvement with killing her. They were punished where they were found, but still the leader was not caught. The Dragoons, and even some dragons, searched for some evidence of her remains, or the elusive man who killed her, but found nothing. They later learned that he used powerful anti-detection magic to hide the Colosseum, and was very secretive about its construction. When the Dragoons heard from some brawlers causing trouble in the area about the Colosseum, they were able to find it, and went in for an attack, searching for the man who called himself the Gilded Champion, who they learned, regularly boasted about how he had taken down a dragon. When they attacked, the Gilded Champion was somehow ready for them, with a small army of gladiators and mages that he kept there. The relatively smaller group of dragoons fared well at first, until the Gilded Champion starting using the powers granted by his worship of a goddess of bloody combat to force the Dragoons on each other. Some refused, and were incapacitated. The Dragoons tried fighting against him, but he was impossible to even injure. This all happened many years ago, and I only learned about it when I asked about the older Dragoon Masters why we didn't just fight and take down the Gilded Champion, when I got into a discussion about the Dragonskull Colosseum with some other Dragoons in training. They told me the story, and said that it was before their time, but after a few attacks, it was ultimately decided that trying to eliminate the Gilded Champion was a useless endeavor. It was a tragedy, certainly. But it's amazing to think that you were part of the group that finally took him down! What I wouldn't have given to be there..." Nathalia looked down at the fragments of bone in her hands, with an expression that was thoughtful and a bit sad. Then she looked back up at Arthur, and suddenly blushed slightly from embarrassment. "O-oh, I'm sorry for talking for so long. I'm sure you weren't all that interested in all that history... I, uh, really like stories." Nathalia paused awkwardly for a moment. "So... I guess, what about you? How did you get involved with Castle High?"
- [VIOLET]
- Posts : 190
Join date : 2018-08-04
Age : 24
Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Mon Jun 01, 2020 12:35 pm
While Nathalia recounted her story about Irevail and the Dragoons, Arthur quietly returned to his work. It would have been a lot of fuss to reheat the already-molded metal plate while it was still on the bone... though he did make sure to work a little more quietly while paying attention to her, moving the grip on his hammer higher up so he could strike lower and firmer. As she voiced her praises for his involvement in defeating the Champion, she might have seen his mild expression falter--a slight wince.
When the Dragoon finished, Arthur let out a low cackle. "No worries... ah, you know, I learned the common language of this country through folklore, legends, epics, and such... I'm from much farther northwest of here, you see--" clang, "--and I grew up being tugged around taverns. That's all to say... I don't mind stories. Though you're much more talkative than I expected..."
To that, the smith let out another cackle--and then continued on without giving Nathalia a chance to defend herself. "I was just traveling before I got swept up here. For the past ten years, I had been running a small smithing business with my partner... but, mmn..."
The rhythm of his striking slowing, he drew in a short but sharp breath through his nose and closed his eyes for a brief moment: "He passed away last summer... and his final wish was to have his ashes returned to the sea: so I packed some bags and decided to leave everything behind. Made it about halfway through the mountain pass between Rorsach and Claves before I fell asleep and woke up here. Lost nearly all of my belongings then, and somehow let myself get whisked into all this."
"I told the nice people I had somewhere I needed to go--though so long as we could pass near there sooner than later, I'd be more than willing to contract with them for as long as they needed." Finally, he laid down his hammer on the flat stone table, pressing his gloved hands on the edge to rest his weight on it. "I could have left them easily after spiriting me away like that... though part of me wanted something to keep busy with, and another part of me believed that they might be able to resolve something that had been weighing on my partner's shoulders for a while."
Letting his head fall back, Arthur turned his gaze towards the wood beams above him and drew a long, silent breath. The more he talked, the lower and quieter his voice grew, even if he paced his words to run even and smooth. A slight rasp had started to surface right before he stopped to pause--one that remained as he continued.
"I'm here right now because those people surpassed my expectations with flying colors. They earned my respect and my sword... especially Bran, Commander Scarlett, and Miss Candice. I believe it was then that I finally began to understand what Castle High really was: not just a flying rock piloted by a bunch of reckless kids with no contracting budget or living sense... but a place where ideals are protected."
"It's going to take me some time to catch up with everyone..." Arthur smiled softly, still looking up, before glancing back towards Nathalia. "However... I'd like to--"
He squeezed his eyes shut first--then let out a dry, hacking cough, covering it with his elbow.
"--to keep protecting these people for as long as I'm able..." he finished hoarsely. "I really wore out my lungs back on the Dreadnought... mhahah. That Champion fellow left me like this before we finished him off... threw me through the floor and a few walls below the arena, then right into a septic tank... Old coward couldn't piss off and die before pissing all over me one more time... of course. Believe me... you didn't miss much."
"...well, maybe you missed me smashing through the foundation of the Colosseum using that accursed duelling circle," he winked, "and then getting the Champion's knickers in such a twist he decided to throw me through the floor... it was a bit of a mess otherwise."
Finally, the smith nodded his head towards the dragon bone in Nathalia's hands, then down towards the piece he was working on. "I suppose the dragon bones are under your authority then, hmm? This piece has been keeping me in one piece for the past while... Now that we've got good metal here, I'd be willing to yield it to you once I get the chance to make a suitable replacement."
"Right now isn't a very good time..." he frowned--then just as quickly flashed a smirk back her way, "but I'm not about to argue with that spear of yours, Miss Nathalia... unless it's friendly banter."
When the Dragoon finished, Arthur let out a low cackle. "No worries... ah, you know, I learned the common language of this country through folklore, legends, epics, and such... I'm from much farther northwest of here, you see--" clang, "--and I grew up being tugged around taverns. That's all to say... I don't mind stories. Though you're much more talkative than I expected..."
To that, the smith let out another cackle--and then continued on without giving Nathalia a chance to defend herself. "I was just traveling before I got swept up here. For the past ten years, I had been running a small smithing business with my partner... but, mmn..."
The rhythm of his striking slowing, he drew in a short but sharp breath through his nose and closed his eyes for a brief moment: "He passed away last summer... and his final wish was to have his ashes returned to the sea: so I packed some bags and decided to leave everything behind. Made it about halfway through the mountain pass between Rorsach and Claves before I fell asleep and woke up here. Lost nearly all of my belongings then, and somehow let myself get whisked into all this."
"I told the nice people I had somewhere I needed to go--though so long as we could pass near there sooner than later, I'd be more than willing to contract with them for as long as they needed." Finally, he laid down his hammer on the flat stone table, pressing his gloved hands on the edge to rest his weight on it. "I could have left them easily after spiriting me away like that... though part of me wanted something to keep busy with, and another part of me believed that they might be able to resolve something that had been weighing on my partner's shoulders for a while."
Letting his head fall back, Arthur turned his gaze towards the wood beams above him and drew a long, silent breath. The more he talked, the lower and quieter his voice grew, even if he paced his words to run even and smooth. A slight rasp had started to surface right before he stopped to pause--one that remained as he continued.
"I'm here right now because those people surpassed my expectations with flying colors. They earned my respect and my sword... especially Bran, Commander Scarlett, and Miss Candice. I believe it was then that I finally began to understand what Castle High really was: not just a flying rock piloted by a bunch of reckless kids with no contracting budget or living sense... but a place where ideals are protected."
"It's going to take me some time to catch up with everyone..." Arthur smiled softly, still looking up, before glancing back towards Nathalia. "However... I'd like to--"
He squeezed his eyes shut first--then let out a dry, hacking cough, covering it with his elbow.
"--to keep protecting these people for as long as I'm able..." he finished hoarsely. "I really wore out my lungs back on the Dreadnought... mhahah. That Champion fellow left me like this before we finished him off... threw me through the floor and a few walls below the arena, then right into a septic tank... Old coward couldn't piss off and die before pissing all over me one more time... of course. Believe me... you didn't miss much."
"...well, maybe you missed me smashing through the foundation of the Colosseum using that accursed duelling circle," he winked, "and then getting the Champion's knickers in such a twist he decided to throw me through the floor... it was a bit of a mess otherwise."
Finally, the smith nodded his head towards the dragon bone in Nathalia's hands, then down towards the piece he was working on. "I suppose the dragon bones are under your authority then, hmm? This piece has been keeping me in one piece for the past while... Now that we've got good metal here, I'd be willing to yield it to you once I get the chance to make a suitable replacement."
"Right now isn't a very good time..." he frowned--then just as quickly flashed a smirk back her way, "but I'm not about to argue with that spear of yours, Miss Nathalia... unless it's friendly banter."
- Mirkwood
- Posts : 31
Join date : 2020-04-27
Age : 24
Location : Sorta the mountains
Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Mon Jun 01, 2020 3:10 pm
Nathalia quietly listened to Arthur's snippets of his tale. It was always a treat to hear of the journeys that others had taken, their struggles and successes... Being able to hear so many living legends in person was something that she never would have imagined when she had been a child or even when she was working for that aristocrat that had gotten her back into caring about legends from history. If she had had the chance, she might have blamed him for her tendency to get caught up in stories, but Arthur had continued after pointing out her unexpected talkativity. But at least he was one for a good story. It was strange that he had just woken up on a flying castle while travelling, as if by some magic force... Or that he was just taken aboard by some of the crew. Those that she had met didn't seem like the type to go around kidnapping random travellers to bring them into the cause. At least he had chosen to stay, and found that Castle High was worth staying around, helping protect ideals and those he had come to care about. It was about here that Nathalia noticed the rasp in Arthur's voice, and his explanation only confirmed her inference that his lungs had been injured. This only made his efforts all the more impressive, to be fighting so hard despite the injuries he had. Perhaps that was why he had been winced earlier, his lungs were acting up again after the hammering he had been doing. Then he suddenly turned the conversation back over to her. She actually hadn't noticed that the armor that he was working on had incorporated dragon bone until he had pointed it out. She supposed it didn't hurt anyone to relax on analyzing things while just having a conversation, but it was still a little embarrassing to have missed that. Nathalia took a moment to gather her thoughts before speaking.
"Unfortunately, I wouldn't say that I'm in any authority over the dragon bones, I just know the story behind them. Maybe the higher ups of the Dragoons could be considered over that, but not me. I may have gotten pretty good at the physical combat techniques and learned a few stories, but I'm far from any authority over these sorts of things. Though even if I was, I think I'd let you keep it. There are a few stories of Dragoon Masters who wore dragon bone armor. Usually it came from a dragon that the dragoon had bonded with over many years, enough that they would always travel together, and the dragoon would often ride the dragon, for travelling, or into battle, leaping from its back to strike at the enemy while it used its breath or claws to assist. When the unfortunate event occurred that the dragon was mortally wounded, they might give some of their bones to be used as armor for their bonded dragoon as their dying wish. And while you aren't a dragoon, and you never knew Irevail, I would think that she wouldn't mind a piece of her bones being used by someone like you, who is working to defend ideals, the people he cares about, as well as a way of life and a people. So, while I might take this bone fragment back to the Dragoons so that they have some remnant of the ancient Irevail, if Castle High lets me, I think what you have done with her bone is worthy of her. At the very least, it's in better hands than it was before." Nathalia smiled a bit before finishing up with, "And don't worry, if all goes as it should, you won't have to worry about arguing with my spear over anything serious."
"Unfortunately, I wouldn't say that I'm in any authority over the dragon bones, I just know the story behind them. Maybe the higher ups of the Dragoons could be considered over that, but not me. I may have gotten pretty good at the physical combat techniques and learned a few stories, but I'm far from any authority over these sorts of things. Though even if I was, I think I'd let you keep it. There are a few stories of Dragoon Masters who wore dragon bone armor. Usually it came from a dragon that the dragoon had bonded with over many years, enough that they would always travel together, and the dragoon would often ride the dragon, for travelling, or into battle, leaping from its back to strike at the enemy while it used its breath or claws to assist. When the unfortunate event occurred that the dragon was mortally wounded, they might give some of their bones to be used as armor for their bonded dragoon as their dying wish. And while you aren't a dragoon, and you never knew Irevail, I would think that she wouldn't mind a piece of her bones being used by someone like you, who is working to defend ideals, the people he cares about, as well as a way of life and a people. So, while I might take this bone fragment back to the Dragoons so that they have some remnant of the ancient Irevail, if Castle High lets me, I think what you have done with her bone is worthy of her. At the very least, it's in better hands than it was before." Nathalia smiled a bit before finishing up with, "And don't worry, if all goes as it should, you won't have to worry about arguing with my spear over anything serious."
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- Posts : 266
Join date : 2018-08-04
Re: Living Quarters (Free Role Play)
Wed Jun 24, 2020 12:22 pm
Location: Medical Ward
------------------------
"How is this a productive use of either of our time?" Zaffre scowls, physically recoiling at the smell of soap and disinfectant permeating the Support Division's headquarters.
Thanks to the supplies, materials, and volunteers Castle High had managed to collect over the last several months, the castle's medical ward was a fully functioning and thriving hospital space. Nurses and doctors move to and fro with gurneys, IV drips, healing salves, and examination runes, passing each other greetings and small jokes along the way. The slightly chilled air is perhaps the only part of this setting Zaffre finds any comfort in, otherwise disgusted by the thrumming and breathing of so many people. He questions how he let himself get conned into coming here in the first place...
Rosemary, gently holding Zaffre's hand as she guides him through a particularly busy hallway, smiles back reassuringly, "you can't be helping us plan or battle if you end up with the flu, now can you? While we have a moment, I'd just like to check your vitals. Perhaps prescribe some regular exercise, if necessary."
The astromancer scoffs, "'Regular exercise?' Are you sure you haven't confused me with that fat wench Giada?"
Rosemary's expression grows a touch more cross, "Giada's in excellent health, in fact. You, on the other hand, are as pale as a sheet and seem thin enough to be blown away by a passing breeze." Before he could interject, she quickly adds, "I promise, I'm only here to help. Just let me get your weight and other statistics and I'll let you out of here soon enough."
Finally leaving the crowded area, Rosemary motions Zaffre toward a bench near the medical ward's entrance. "Now I'll be right back, I just need to grab some examination equipment. I know you don't want to be here, but please, for your own sake, just stay until I return?"
"...Eerrghh," Zaffre groans, upset with himself for what he was agreeing to. "I suppose. Stars know how long I was locked in that room. It seems an examination wouldn't do any harm..." he drops his head into his hands with a sigh, "well, what are you waiting for? Shoo, get your equipment."
"Thank you," she smiles again, giving a little wave as she turns and speed-walks back toward the other medics.
"Hm? Oh, Zaffre," a voice calls to him from another nearby bench--Corbin, holding his hat in his hands, nods in greeting. "Fancy meeting you here. Today must be Rosie's day to run us all through our paces."
"Corbin?" Zaffre frowns, sitting up. "Hmph, for what do I owe the 'pleasure?' Here to have your elderly pills filled out?"
The navigator simply shakes his head, "Rosemary conned me into agreeing to therapy for my smoking. Said she's worried about my lungs giving out in the thin air up top while I'm moving the castle. Couldn't quite figure out how to say no in time."
"I see," Zaffre replies, returning to his drooping posture. "It seems we've made simiar mistakes. That woman certainly has a habit of forcing her opinions of health onto others..."
Corbin lets a low, single-syllable laugh, "that sure is one way to describe a doctor."
------------------------
"How is this a productive use of either of our time?" Zaffre scowls, physically recoiling at the smell of soap and disinfectant permeating the Support Division's headquarters.
Thanks to the supplies, materials, and volunteers Castle High had managed to collect over the last several months, the castle's medical ward was a fully functioning and thriving hospital space. Nurses and doctors move to and fro with gurneys, IV drips, healing salves, and examination runes, passing each other greetings and small jokes along the way. The slightly chilled air is perhaps the only part of this setting Zaffre finds any comfort in, otherwise disgusted by the thrumming and breathing of so many people. He questions how he let himself get conned into coming here in the first place...
Rosemary, gently holding Zaffre's hand as she guides him through a particularly busy hallway, smiles back reassuringly, "you can't be helping us plan or battle if you end up with the flu, now can you? While we have a moment, I'd just like to check your vitals. Perhaps prescribe some regular exercise, if necessary."
The astromancer scoffs, "'Regular exercise?' Are you sure you haven't confused me with that fat wench Giada?"
Rosemary's expression grows a touch more cross, "Giada's in excellent health, in fact. You, on the other hand, are as pale as a sheet and seem thin enough to be blown away by a passing breeze." Before he could interject, she quickly adds, "I promise, I'm only here to help. Just let me get your weight and other statistics and I'll let you out of here soon enough."
Finally leaving the crowded area, Rosemary motions Zaffre toward a bench near the medical ward's entrance. "Now I'll be right back, I just need to grab some examination equipment. I know you don't want to be here, but please, for your own sake, just stay until I return?"
"...Eerrghh," Zaffre groans, upset with himself for what he was agreeing to. "I suppose. Stars know how long I was locked in that room. It seems an examination wouldn't do any harm..." he drops his head into his hands with a sigh, "well, what are you waiting for? Shoo, get your equipment."
"Thank you," she smiles again, giving a little wave as she turns and speed-walks back toward the other medics.
"Hm? Oh, Zaffre," a voice calls to him from another nearby bench--Corbin, holding his hat in his hands, nods in greeting. "Fancy meeting you here. Today must be Rosie's day to run us all through our paces."
"Corbin?" Zaffre frowns, sitting up. "Hmph, for what do I owe the 'pleasure?' Here to have your elderly pills filled out?"
The navigator simply shakes his head, "Rosemary conned me into agreeing to therapy for my smoking. Said she's worried about my lungs giving out in the thin air up top while I'm moving the castle. Couldn't quite figure out how to say no in time."
"I see," Zaffre replies, returning to his drooping posture. "It seems we've made simiar mistakes. That woman certainly has a habit of forcing her opinions of health onto others..."
Corbin lets a low, single-syllable laugh, "that sure is one way to describe a doctor."
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