|
Post by Deleted on May 30, 2017 18:59:23 GMT -5
[Here we go! I will get my guys form up as quick as possible.]
Connell Rykaer "Ry" Whelan - 27
Appearance: With glittering, cornflower blue eyes, dusty blonde hair, and tan skin, Ry is a picturesque noble. He stands at the impressive height of 6'5", towering above most everyone he comes into contact with. He is surprisingly lithe because of his height, but a fine layer of muscle covers every inch of skin. This skin is marked by at least a dozen scars, many of them self inflicted training wounds. A defined jawline mixed with a straight and strong nose make him a very attractive man indeed. Ry's hair is usually left unstyled giving him a slight 'just woke up' look. The noble wears simple dark colored clothes with little to no adornments except for the simple silver band on his right middle finger. By just looking at him, no one would be able to tell that he is anything other than ordinary. However, if you search hard enough, you would spot a small - only millimeters wide - tattoo at the nape of his neck. It is an old forgotten symbol that even Ry himself does not know. When he first made a deal with Death himself, it appeared as a mark of the bargain.
Personality and History: Rykaer exudes the distant calm and cold that his family is known for. He learned years ago to never left his emotions show, a lesson that has come in handy on many occasions. Royal parties tend to bore him to tears and conversing with other royal snobs has never interested him. However, he is good at faking intrigue and has mastered the way people's eyes crinkle when they give a genuine smile. It is hard to get a rise out of him, or to at least get him to show himself upset. Even his eyes remain impassive most of the time, never missing a beat. Still, certain things do grate on his nerves. His temper is explosive when pushed to far over the edge. Sarcasm and wit seem to be his primary defensive mechanism against people who pry a little too far into his life. Ry has built his barriers thick and high; he doesn't want anyone getting in. But those walls prevent him from fully reaching out to others. Only once did he let someone breach those walls and she returned the favor by sending him to meet Death himself. Death granted his wish for more time, even though his intentions for returning weren't necessarily the most noble. Revenge upon his lover turned murderer. For years, he was over come with rage and bitterness and bloodlust. When he finally had his chance to take his revenge, he found that that woman who had killed him had died from a illness the night before. Not only were his dreams of revenge crushed, but he had realized that he had wasted years of the life that had been gifted back to him. The experience gave him a new outlook on life, one in which he wanted to spend every bit of his time remaining on the things that mattered. That is why he is looking for another extension: he hopes Death will give it to him because this time, he wishes to do something move than be angry and bitter. Ry wishes to make something of himself, maybe even start a family if he can get over his trust issues or stop being so cold to every female he meets. There is a kind and gentle soul underneath of that baggage, one that loves so deeply to get him killed. One only needs to search for it.
|
|
|
Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on May 31, 2017 1:12:19 GMT -5
omg I love him <3 I'll get my girl up in just a sec
|
|
|
Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on May 31, 2017 1:28:46 GMT -5
Agnes Leolan ~ female ~ 24 ~ physician at Bruston Court Agnes is of just below average height and her build is slight and lean, yet she seems a lot smaller than those around her than can be explained by size alone. Her presence is a very mild one, and with her meek body language and relaxed posture, she never really takes up more physical space than her size demands. She's pale, although her shoulders and back are covered in freckles but her skin isn't the soft complexion of someone who can afford to take care. Her hands are calloused and almost always stained by some kind of herb or dye. Her hair is dark brown with a slight reddish tint to it, and goes no further than to her shoulder blades - just long enough to be braided back on days that call for that. Her eyes are lighter in colour, landing somewhere between green and hazel. Like the rest of her features, they're round although not exactly soft. If there's one word her peers would use to describe Agnes, it would be reliable. A firm believer in deadlines, Agnes always gets the job done. She takes responsibility where it needs to be taken and is even an adept leader. She's friendly enough, she's not afraid to talk, but she's both introverted and focused. It takes someone else to initiate a situation, she very rarely approaches someone she doesn't know first and never takes focus away from her work unless someone shifts it somewhere else for her. She's private, too, and doesn't really like to talk about herself or her life. This makes her a good listener, but it means that most relationships she gets into, regardless of their nature, drain her quickly. She tends to take criticism incredibly personally; she'll even see it where there's none to find. This affects her maybe a little too much and she's prone to underestimating herself, but also other people. Agnes was born into the household of Sir Leolan, a knight staying at the court, and his wife. Little did he know she wasn't his daughter. His wife, Alice, was the one meant to let them both know when Agnes' abilities started to manifest, but she passed in a plague before Agnes turned three and never got the chance. For reasons she doesn't understand, things have died at her hand since she was a young child. It started in her fifth summer and she doesn't know how it happens, exactly, but something as simple as the brush of a hand can set it off. It's rather unpredictable, happening rarely but randomly. Her attempts to conceal it were largely successful for a long time, her father didn't pick up on it until she was fifteen and well into the process of becoming a woman. He sent her to the infirmary, convinced that she was simply carrying an illness she herself was immune to. They were unable to help her but while she was there, she realised that not only was she fascinated by the work they did, when she lent a hand it came naturally to her. Deeming her old enough to choose, his father agreed to let her have an apprenticeship there. She's been there ever since. It's helped her immensely, but a few months ago there was an incident. She tried to keep it under wraps but word travels fast at court and she's now fondly refered to as the Good Witch for the abilities the court claims to know and the way she, the daughter of a respected military leader who could easily marry up, spends her days.
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on May 31, 2017 16:19:13 GMT -5
Ohh! I like your character as well. I'm excited for this. Should they meet ok accident or maybe Ry could get hurt and head to the infirmary?)
|
|
|
Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on May 31, 2017 16:23:55 GMT -5
yeah, me too c: I mean, he's trying to find her, right? so it could just be that he's tracked her down. alternatively, maybe it's like you said and he gets hurt and that's how he ends up finding her? idk
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on May 31, 2017 16:51:57 GMT -5
I think it could be interesting if he tracks her to infirmary. Ry could come crashing in all cool like. XD)
|
|
|
Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Jun 1, 2017 13:49:13 GMT -5
"why yes hello I heard you could give me another twenty years on my life expectancy?"
"I'm a healer not a miracle worker, so unless you're currently bleeding out, the best I can do is give you a good night's sleep"
no but really, that sounds like a good idea to me ^^
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 1, 2017 14:24:14 GMT -5
"Oh dear. You aren't what I was expecting at all. Here I was thinking you could add a few years to my life and all you offer me is a good nights sleep?"
"..."
XD I love it. Let's go for that then. Would you like to start or should i?)
|
|
|
Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Jun 1, 2017 14:27:44 GMT -5
would you mind? I would, but I feel like me starting would be redundant anyway and I'm exhausted so I'd rather keep to doing just what's needed cx I'm lazy, ik
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 1, 2017 14:29:38 GMT -5
Sure I can! I don't mind. I'm on break at work right now so when I get another chance I'll type my starter up. It might be awhile though. DX Sorry!)
|
|
|
Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Jun 1, 2017 14:33:50 GMT -5
thank you ^^ and no worries, that's totally fine. take your time.
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 1, 2017 14:37:49 GMT -5
I will warn you though, all my starters stink to high heaven so bear with me. XD)
|
|
|
Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Jun 1, 2017 14:45:51 GMT -5
mine are all awful too so I totally get it. it takes a few posts to get into it
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 1, 2017 22:55:16 GMT -5
Connell Rykaer "Ry" Whelan
If it wasn't for the fact that Rykaer had heard the rumors of the Good Witch that supposedly served in Bruston Court, he would have never agreed to go to the drag that was his neighboring kingdom. Still, it wouldn't have mattered if he refused; his mother would have found a way to coercive him into going, even if it meant binding and gagging him. The Duchess did not dish out empty threats, and anyone unwise enough to call her bluff did not come out unscathed. That woman had a way of striking the most delicate, the most secret places without ever lifting a finger. She was a nasty old bat, one even his father knew not to mess with too often. So when she stated - not asked, stated - that the whole family was going to visit one of her good friends at Bruston Court, Ry and the younger ones were inclined to agree. To his chagrin, some of his married siblings found a way to get out of little excursion, managing to avoid the wrath of the Duchess as well. He made sure to give them a particularly ugly looked as they went away, jealous of their good fortune. But then, a few days before the trip, he had caught wind of the rumors of a Witch in Bruston Court, and his cold heart skipped a beat at the tales. That lovely rumor about the witch had certainly helped lift his spirits about the adventure, but his soft complaints were still heard by the others.
While long and horribly drab, the cross kingdom road trip hadn't been as bad as the noble thought it would be. The road was fairly worn and smooth, the bumps few and far between. The driver gave them plenty of chances to stretch their legs before continuing on, and the view of Asmenia's mountainous territory hadn't been anything to sneeze at. His mother had picked the perfect time to travel: spring. A soft wind blew in through the open windows, and song birds fluttered by the transportation, some times serenading them with their songs. Even the sunlight was gentle upon their brows when they gazed out the windows to see the approaching border. The kingdom of Bruston, however, was a plain land with little to no hills and valleys. It was a sharp contrast to his homeland, but the change wasn't one he minded. In the springtime, the endless plains were fields of green grass and wildflowers or yellow wheat. One could see the horizon for miles and miles in Bruston, and that amazed him every time he came. Small lakes dotted the countryside as well, adding a splash of blue to evergreen and sunshine yellow.
As they neared the capital city, Rykaer leaned slightly toward the window, enough to see while still appearing aloof. The massive castle towards above the large city in a way that Eston Castle simply did not. While Eston was nestled into a mountain side, Bruston Court sprang up from the ground like a tree of stone and mortar. It's nonexistent branches covered the city and the townhouses which were ant like compared to the castle. The earth dropped off into oblivion behind it; a natural plateau which provided the perfect defense. The Asmenian noble breathed in at the sight of it, not out of fear, but out of hope. His salvation might slumber in those walls; he only had to find her.
A tap on the Ry's shoulder brought him out of his musings, and he turned to the offender, his face set in a snarl, "What now, Tam?!"
The little girl giggled at the ugly face he made at her and grinned widely, "Oh nothing. Just wondering what you were thinking about." Her eyes glinted devilishly as if she knew exactly what he was thinking about, but she just wanted to irritate the living snot out of him. Of course, she didn't know. At least, Ry hoped she didn't understand why he had so readily - no, begrudgingly - agreed to the trip. No one knew about his plight. Not anyone. But the way her deep amber eyes sparkled with secret knowledge worried him. He held back his shiver.
"It's none of your business, little Tamillia," the snarl changed to a sweet smile and his voice was like a purr, "Why don't you go color or suck your thumb, hmm? Leave the grown up business to the adults."
Tam's unblemished nose crinkled in distaste, and she brushed some of her golden hair out of her doll like face, "I am an adult Connell. I don't resort to petty insults like a child." Victory gleamed in her eyes. She straightened her blush colored dress and straightened her back, "Besides, Mother says I am old enough to know what you know." There was a slight lift to her voice at the mention of her mother, and she gave him a hard sidelong glance, just daring him to combat the words of the Duchess.
Rykaer smirked down at the soon to be fourteen year old, the second youngest of the family, "Oh, you wouldn't want to know the things I know, little girl." Her blond curls bounced as her head turned in interest, "Like what?" He leaned in and whispered in her ear. Tam's eyes went wide and her face turned pale. She scooted away from him faster than a rabbit and ground her teeth. He chuckled lightly.
"I'm telling Mother that you said that to me, you big -" before she had the opportunity to finish her insult, the carriage stopped suddenly and the door swung open. Tamillia scowled at his back as he gracefully exited the carriage, his face a mask made from stone. The breeze blew his hair slightly so he brought a hand up to comb it down. His sister stomped past him, no doubt to the carriage that held his father and mother. He watched her go with amusement before turning back to the massive structure that was Bruston Court. Ry stopped the first servant he could find and asked the question that had been haunting him for the last week.
"Where might I find the Good Witch I keep hearing about? I would like to speak to her," he asked nonchalantly. The servant looked confused as to why he needed to know, but he gave him directions anyways and even offered to take him there. The noble refused curtly and entered the gates of the castle, determined to find the woman that might just save his life.
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 1, 2017 23:23:54 GMT -5
So I hope you don't mind that I decided to bring his family into it. I think it will add an another level of dynamics. Plus, side characters! )
|
|
|
Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Jun 2, 2017 0:39:48 GMT -5
( not at all! I'll puzzle a reply together this afternoon. )
|
|
|
Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Jun 3, 2017 3:37:56 GMT -5
( this was pretty bad I'm sorry, I figured something was better than nothing )
It had been almost three years ago Agnes’ mentor has passed in the same illness that took her mother. She didn’t grieve for him anymore, but she did often curse him and his insolence at leaving her alone. She had every servant she could want at her disposal, of course, hers was a respected and important position. She wasn’t anywhere nearly as overworked as she could be. Still, everything was her call. And when, like today, someone fell ill in the middle of the night it was she who had to rub sleep from her eyes and rush to save someone’s life. Only a few years ago, Harreas would be roused by a guard to come to the rescue. She’d come with him, but there were no life or death choices for her to make. She missed not having to stitch someone up on three hours of sleep. Today was one of those days. It had started well before dawn broke. The King’s nephew, Janus, had fallen ill during the night and he’d personally ordered her to see him through it. At least he’d agreed to have the boy moved to the infirmary rather than demand that Agnes run around the castle in order to give him the best care he could receive. It was late morning now, though, and the spring sun was filtering gently through the window. The songbirds that made a home of the tree just past it were silent but they’d offered company for hours, so she didn’t blame them. From the courtyard came the sound of laughter and chattering. It was a lovely day to be stuck inside, she thought to herself. Other than the young prince who’d claimed most of her day, the infirmary contained three men about her own age. Their collective pride seemed more beaten than they themselves did, they’d been sparring and somehow all received nasty cuts in need of stitches, so she hadn’t managed to get much out of them, but they were right in their assessments. They needed patching up. “Which one of you is least likely to weep?” she asked, not turning her gaze from the boy as she gave him another dose of medicine. When she turned, one of them had risen. She nodded and gestured him forward. “Bring a chair.” He did as asked and before long she was sewing his skin closed. He winced with each stitch but did not start to cry, which she supposed was an impressive show of will. She hadn’t given him anything to numb the area, secretly determining that if they were foolish enough to try and run each other through with swords believing that they could handle it, they could handle a needle and some string. “This will scar,” she said, pretending she didn’t see the pleased grin he gave her. “It will not be attractive,” she said plainly, “I do not have time to waste on keeping your body from marring as it heals.” Behind her the boy murmured something in his fitful sleep, but she didn’t look up. He’d been speaking since she first went to see over the men that moved him but he’d not once opened his eyes. It was just a simple fever, it would pass of its own accord in a few days, but it made itself known constantly. Though she’d never say so, it was getting a little annoying. “So, miss Leolan,” the young man across from her said. “You’ve heard about the ball the King will be hosting shortly, I imagine,” he continued. She looked up to meet his gaze, giving a questioning look. “Of course. What of it?” “Will your father be in attendance?” She breathed a sigh of relief, returning to her work. “I look up to him, I know he has the ear and respect of the King. I was hoping to speak to him, he is the kind of man who can make a career.” Agnes didn’t look up from the man’s arm when she answered. “Why, I’m not sure. I would presume so, he attends most things here at court. If you want an introduction, I suggest you speak to one of the knights he bosses around. They’re far more likely to be of help than I. I will not even be there, there’s far too much work to be done around here.” She could feel the disappointment roll of him like waves of fog, but at least he had the good grace not to say anything. He didn’t make another attempt to make conversation, presumably because he hadn’t gotten what he wanted. Neither did the next man who stepped up, perhaps he, too, had hoped for a word with her father. She could have given it to them, of course, her father and she were close, but she did not wish to. He was just as busy as she and wouldn’t appreciate it, not that he’d show it. It was when she reached out a hand to help the final man to his feet - he’d suffered a deep cut to his leg and would not be able to hold himself up - that she felt it. The telltale spark, followed by a sound of pain, that told her that she had not been careful enough. It was nothing but pain and it would pass shortly, but as she guided him to another chair, she felt the guilt coil in her belly nonetheless. She’d been distracted. She got to work, once again in silence. She had a feeling that this time it wasn’t because all they had to talk about was her father and a ball she wasn’t planning on attending.
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 3, 2017 23:16:07 GMT -5
Connell Rykaer "Ry" Whelan
The castle was more massive and involved than Ry originally thought. It was a labyrinth of hallways and staircases, closed doors and large ballrooms. The noble strolled through the passage ways slowly, taking in the regal paintings that clung to the walls. He wasn't one to skim a masterpiece so he allowed himself the time to stop and take in their glory. The servants whispered and stared as they passed him, but he didn't move to correct them, too lost in thought over the various art pieces. One of the braver servants ventured to ask if he needed anything; he simply gave a long blink and the nervous boy scampered away. When his inner artist was satisfied, he set a brisk pace in the direction of the infirmary. He crisscrossed through the hallways, trying to remember the directions that the one servant had given him upon arrival. He took staircase after staircase like the man had said. However, the further down he went, the more his stomach twisted in unease. It soon became apparent to Ry that he had become horrible lost. His head turned as he took in his surroundings and he cursed quietly. Blue eyes scanned the slightly dark hallways for anyone to help him even through his pride screamed at him to continue on. His steps were heavy against the wood flooring, his fingers twitching in agitation.
"U-umm, excuse me..." the soft voice filled the hallway and struck his eardrums. Ry froze mid step when he recognized the question in the voice. He grinded his teeth then kept walking, his pride winning out over his need for help. He forced himself to walk slowly and purposefully as if he knew exactly what he was doing. Still, the voice tried again, "S-sir, I can help... you."
At that Rykaer did in fact turn around, eyes icy and detached. The girl standing there was a little thing with wide green eyes and ink black hair. She held a large pot in her scarred hands, the soil spilling out of it to tumble down her torn dress. Her lips quivered when she craned her neck to take in his full height. She seemed too small, too dirty to even be a servant. She certainly wasn't dressed like the others that he had met so far. He tilted his head in an animalistic like fashion, "What help could a whelp like you give me?"
The girl shifted the pot in her arms in an attempt to stand a little taller, "I don't know... directions maybe." She worked her bottom lip between her teeth when he narrowed his eyes, "You just seemed lost..." Her voice trailed off, and she shifted the large pot in her hands again. He watched as she struggled with it before she finally gave up and set it on the ground. It clinked against the floor, the soil scattering. The girl rubbed her dirty palms against her equally dirty dress. She sighed in relief.
Ry blinked, "And why did you assume me lost, girl?" She looked up at him again and shrugged. His lips pulled back in a slight sneer, "You don't know?" He shook his head. This is a waste of my time, he thought and turned away from the girl to continue his search for the infirmary. He had lingered too long as it was already, and he wasn't about to wait around for some random girl to get her thoughts together. He didn't even know why he had given her a moments attention in the first place.
"Your clothes are weird," She explained to him as he walked away, "And all the nobles know the palace well enough to not come this far down." He paused again, "Plus, I... I heard you curse." Ry exhaled and glided back over to her. She was looking up at him sheepishly, "I'm not dumb, you know. I can put two and two together. You're lost."
"And you're frustratingly persistent," he purred, "So what if I am lost, hmm? I'll find my way again." At that, the little girl smiled, dimples appearing.
"No, you won't, silly. You are way too far from the areas the other nobles visit. But I can show you where you need to go," she wrung her hands sheepishly, "If you'll let me..." Her smile blinded him, but his heart craved just a little. Enough to make him narrow his eyes and say, "The infirmary." The little girl nodded and bounced away, her dress moving with her.
Ry contemplated what had just transpired as he followed her. If it had been any other person, he would have bit their head off and continued on his way, but something about this little girl prevented him from destroying her soul. Maybe it was the way that she kept at him even through she understood he was above her standing. Or maybe it was the way her green eyes lit up with fearful awe at the sight of him. He sighed mentally as they retraced his steps and climbed quite a few staircases. The guards watched them in discreet interest, probably wondering why he was with such a character. He kept his mask on as she escorted him to the double doors that lead into the infirmary. He approached them, heart thumping wildly in anticipation.
The little girl's eyes widened as he flung them open, "You can't just go in!"
The Asmenian noble entered the room anyways, leaving the girl gapping at him. The stench of blood, herbs, and sanitizing liquids hit him before anything else, but years of training (and trips to the infirmary) kept him from scrunching up his nose. His cornflower blue eyes took in the different objects and people in the room as he swept in like a illness. They landed upon three men and an young boy who lay moaning in his bed. Ry recognized him as Janus, the young nephew of the King himself. He smirked at his prone form.
Then, like a moth drawn to a flame, Rykaer switched his attention to the only female in the room. Greedily, he let his eyes roam over her small body and brown hair and calloused hands. She was everything and nothing like he had imagined she would be. She appeared human, but deep down he knew that she was otherworldly - at least a part of her was. As a man who had faced Death, he had imagined her to look more like him. However, she was a regular woman of regular build and height and appearance. He approached her almost cautiously, letting the cold mask slip back over the places it had faded, "For a woman with widespread prestige and fame, you are surprisingly ordinary."
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 3, 2017 23:26:00 GMT -5
Your reply was great! It gave me what I needed and then some. )
|
|
|
Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Jun 4, 2017 4:18:09 GMT -5
The door flung open and the man whose leg Agnes was currently attempting to put back into one piece attempted to shoot up to see who it was. She didn't blame him, her own head flung around to see who it was that entered her infirmary with this kind of fervour. Usually, there'd be at least a polite knock. She assumed that this meant it was an emergency, but no. It was just a tall, angry looking noble from another land - Asmenia if his clothing was anything to go by. She didn't get much more, though, because a loud and surprised groan of pain came from her side. She sighed. "You'll tear the stitches before they're even in place," she said with an exasperated shake of the head, pressing the man down by a hand on the shoulder. "It's nobody you need to worry yourself about anyway." She gave him a small smile but didn't get back to work on the stitches. He'd be tense until this man left.
She turned her gaze back to the noble whose name she didn't know. She wasn't sure if his comment was intended as an insult or if he'd simply expected someone more imposing and lacked the grace to keep that to himself. Either way, it amused her slightly. She knew that he was not the only one who thought so, even her father would lament over the fact that she looked like a working woman and not the daughter of a celebrated former knight and advisor to the king. This was what he'd fought to keep from happening, he said, but then he'd pat her cheek and thank her for her work, so perhaps it wasn't so bad after all.
"Pray tell, what is an Asmenian noble doing in my infirmary looking like the picture of health?" she asked, curious but not accusatory. "Have the rumours reached Asmenia already? I knew that word travels fast at court but all the way to your kingdom? I'm surprised." She also didn't like it. She'd failed to hide it and now she was paying the price by having to answer to nobles who thought themselves important enough to take time from her patients.
It had been a small incident, really. She'd been out with one of her apprentices, giving a lesson on herbology in the gardens. He'd asked about a certain plant - a weed and a poison, thankfully - and when she reached out to pick a leaf to show him what he need look out for to avoid mixing it up with other, far more useful plants, the entire plant had withered. One of the foreign lords at court had witnessed it and demanded she be taken to the King who'd simply stated that witches were more than welcome at his court and in his kingdom, much to the noble's frustration. Her protests that she knew nothing of witchcraft were useless. As early as the next day she had a new title to live up to.
She supposed she should be grateful that it had not been something else. It could have been violent or death turned towards another human being. She doubted that would have gotten her the name she received for killing a poisonous bush in the gardens. Still, she didn't like it. She didn't even understand it herself and now the entire court, no Kingdom and as far as the next one over, claimed to know what it was she was. It made her both uncomfortable and a little afraid.
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 5, 2017 21:50:49 GMT -5
Connell Rykaer "Ry" Whelan
(Sorry this is so short! I had a long weekend and I am bushed. I promise the next one will be longer and overall better. )
The man's groan reached Ry's ears quickly and he fixed his cold - if slightly amused - gaze on him. The solider might have been intimidating if the partly stitched wound wasn't on full display. It was a nasty looking wound, one that the noble was sure hurt like no ones business. He tilted his head minutely, wondering who of the two others had inflicted the wound. He had received similar wounds in practice and in skirmishes at the border and knew first hand about the pain. A small tinge of pity light up in his heart, but he didn't act on it. Instead, he dismissed the man and the others by ignoring them completely. No solider wanted pity, and Ry was more than happy to gift the man with cold indifference. Plus, they were not the ones whom he had come to talk to. Nope, he came to interrogate the Good Witch about what she could do for him or potentially give him.
The Asmenian didn't answer her questions immediately. The different herbs and tools captured his attention and he sauntered over to one of the pots. He reached up to a droopy green leaf, stroking it softly between his middle finger and thumb. It was velvet against his skin, "I've come to see if the rumors about you are true." He released the leaf and watched at it bounce back into place besides the others, "Rumor has it that you practice witchcraft." He glanced over his shoulder to her, eyes glittering with icy interest. A wolf sizing up its prey, "Tell me, woman. Do you live up to your title?"
Hope fluttered in his chest. He needed her to be who the one. Something told him that the witchcraft part of the myth was bogus, and that he was instead looking Death in the face once more. Still, even if she was just a witch, then maybe he could beat some vital information from her. There was no guarantee that she could do anything for him and that he was simply wasting his time, but he felt the need to try.
Rykaer ran a hand through his messy hair and the leaned back on one of the tables as if bored with the situation. His dark gothic style clothing accentuated both his tall and slender form while also drawing attention to his noble status. Surely the woman would realize that he was a powerful guest and answer his questions quickly. He didn't want to be in the gosh awful infirmary all day when he would be elsewhere. Maybe he would even contemplate going to the royal ball that the King was holding soon, but he hardly doubted that he could even make himself attend. Those events always bored him to death. Though it might be worth going just to see his siblings make a fool out of themselves. More likely than not, he would try to hide from his mother in the hours before the ball so he could sneak out to take a trip to town. His feet screamed at him to head there while he could, but his brain prevented him from leaving before he had the answers to his questions.
When a moment passed and there was no response, he quirked a perfect eyebrow at the woman and her companions, "Well?" He wasn't getting any younger. In fact, his time on this earth was about to run out and that scared the snot out of him. The tattoo on his neck burned as if in response to his thoughts, betraying the fact that his contract was almost up. He needed answers and results soon. Much too soon for his liking.
|
|
|
Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Jun 8, 2017 8:12:06 GMT -5
( don't worry about it, it looks great from here ^^ mine's short too, but since it's dialouge heavy right now writing more wouldn't add anything so whatever )
Agnes watched the noble move around her infirmary with a look of distaste, following not the man himself but his hand as it drifted to places she didn't want anyone near. Her herbs took time and effort both to collect and store and she'd rather not have them disturbed by someone who didn't know what he was doing. It took all she had to keep from snatching the leaf out of his hand. She'd be well within her rights and she doubted she'd get into trouble, but she didn't like to cause conflict if she could avoid it and certainly not in front of people that were supposed to trust her to put them back together. Nothing was more worrying than an angry healer, she thought to herself. That didn't mean she didn't wish it weren't the case.
"Woman?" she repeated, his blunt manner surprising her into focusing on something other than her immediate aversion for him. "I hope you know even women have names, especially if you're coming so far to question them about their practice of the occult. You'd think if you were so curious you'd have done at least a little research before you barge into a space reserved for those who need to heal." Her tone was level and controlled, far from even frustrated, but her small frown spoke volumes her mouth did not. She did not appreciate any of this and though she'd never say so, she wouldn't try to hide it to please him either.
She turned her back on him again, returning to her patient's side. She brought the pot of leaves with her as she went, almost without realising it. She purposefully refrained from answering his question. She didn't need to validate these rumours. "My apologies, Eirrac," she said instead, sitting back down on her chair. She didn't stitch him up still, she could see he was tense. He was on edge and every stitch would hurt that much more. So she simply shot him a look, hoping he'd understand. She didn't like the rumours, she didn't like being asked about them and she didn't like feeling as if everyone else knew more about what was going on than she did. It put her on the defensive immediately. "I shouldn't be keeping you waiting. Let me cover that wound until I can finish stitching you up, alright?"
She wasn't worried, not really. The king had made it clear that she could remain here for as long as she wished, witch or not, and he'd done it personally. Magic, though rare and not often taken seriously, was welcome, he'd said. The people tolerated it, though it still frightened some of them. She knew, though, that not all kingdoms viewed it this way. Some were wary, some were afraid and others yet wanted to end its hold on the world. Had she been in a less welcoming land, she'd have burned long ago. She was sure that some of the nobility that visited were turning some of that animosity towards her now, and given the way this particular noble was addressing her she was inclined to believe that was exactly what he was doing now. There was a reason she hadn't wanted the truth to come out and it was this.
"As you can see," she began finally, glancing up at the man and gesturing to Janus, still sleeping fitfully. "I'm rather busy at the moment. I don't have time to answer your questions. Find me at a later time - and it had better not be when I'm sleeping - and ask politely. I'll see what I can do then."
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 9, 2017 20:58:19 GMT -5
Hey! I'm going to be busy this weekend so I probably won't be able to get a reply up for the next few days. DX I will try on sunday night to get it up.)
|
|
|
Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Jun 9, 2017 23:40:56 GMT -5
( that's totally fine, take your time! )
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 24, 2017 12:22:39 GMT -5
I AM SOOOOOOOO SORRRRRRYYYY! I just up and disappeared on you for like two weeks. DX My family got really busy and I completely forgot to come on and reply. I will get on that reply right now if you are still wanting to RP. I completely understand if you don't want to though.)
|
|
|
Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Jun 24, 2017 12:35:35 GMT -5
if you're still up for it I'd love to keep this going ^^ sometimes life gets in the way, no big deal.
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 24, 2017 14:28:44 GMT -5
Ok awesome! I'll have my reply up soon. )
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 24, 2017 23:04:51 GMT -5
Connell Rykaer "Ry" Whelan
If it wasn't for the fact that Rykaer was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it, the dismissal wouldn't have irritated him as much as it did. He tilted his head at her, processing her words without ever showing his slight vexation. She appeared urked by his choice of terms in addressing her, but he didn't really see why. She was a woman; it wasn't like the term was derogatory in nature. Plus, if he didn't know her name, what else was he to call her? Ry could have called her witch since that was what she was though he suspected that it would have gone over about as well as woman, quite possibly worse. However, he made note of it for any future conversations. After all, he needed to make her as happy as possible or he could kiss his chances for an extension goodbye.
Ry kept his face neutral as she passive aggressively turned her back to him for a second time, no doubt in protest of him touching her herbs and equipment. The injured man glared at him as the woman took her seat in front of him, but had the good sense to soften his gaze before the noble took offense. Both men hadn't stopped staring him down since he entered the room, yet the one that needed stitches seemed to have a special place in his heart for the Asmenian noble. Ry gave him a slow smirk, one that reached his eyes with unspoken promise. The man, Eirrac, responded by inhaling deeply and lifting his chin slightly as if unsure about what he had just seen. The silent threat went unnoticed by the Good Witch though the second man saw everything. He wisely kept his mouth shut.
When she finally asked him to leave, he was forced to school his features into cool disinterest. Inside, he wanted to snarl at her and demand answers, but he knew that would get him nowhere. Regardless of how desperately he needed her to talk, propriety required a polite and curt exit from him. But propriety could jump off a cliff for all he cared. He wasn't in the business of being polite or kind or... noble. He was in the business of getting five or ten or twenty more years to live. Ry blinked slowly, at war with himself. Leave and risk not getting to talk to her again in time, or stay and risk her being so perturbed by him that she not talk to him at all.
Undecided, he turned around to walk to the door that he had flung open only minutes before as if to leave. He made sure to keep his gait light and unhurried as if her dismissal had not affected him all. When he made it to the door, he put his hand on the handle and all but purred into the still air, "I wouldn't dare disturb your beauty sleep, healer. You need all of it you can get."
Rykaer left the room, smirking slightly and feeling a little less annoyed by her now that he got a good jab in. Sure, it wasn't the best way to leave, but he didn't know if it even mattered at the moment. She wasn't going to discuss it with him while she was working; she made that clear. So he would have to find a time and place that she couldn't use work as an excuse. If he had to corner her on her way to her quarters, then he would. Until then, however, he needed to find his own quarters.
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 30, 2017 11:51:12 GMT -5
Do I was thinking that they could maybe meet up at the ball OR as they try to avoid the ball. XD)
|
|
|
Post by 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘯 on Jul 1, 2017 13:08:38 GMT -5
sorry this took so long, I've been super busy. and yeah, that sounds good cx Agnes probably won't try to avoid it, she's busy but will probably try to make time, and if Ry is trying to track her down it's the perfect opportunity for him to find her.
|
|