Usque
Committed
Roleplay posts: 82
Biography: This is the NPC account for the people of the Usque
Allegiances: Tana the Tongue Tied
Place of Residence: Trinity Island and Sindarin
Registered: Mar 24, 2021 9:55:43 GMT -5
|
Post by Usque on Aug 15, 2023 17:06:28 GMT -5
 Created from the wood of shipwrecks, this dock is newly built not far from the village. |
|
Faisine D'Arcy
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 106
Appearance: Hair: Blonde, almost a white blonde
Eyes: Piercing blue
Height: 5'2"
Build: Slender
Features: Noble
Age: 24
Equipment: Eating Dagger
The clothing on her back
Staff
Citole
Rope
Grappling Hook
Tent
Utilities such as pots and pans, other dishes
Skills and Abilities: She is a singer, with a very lovely voice. She was trained as a spellsong but she does that no more.
Biography: History: Lady Faisine was born in the lost kingdom of Verri, but she was raised in a cloister (Not nuns, but yes, women who were very religious nevertheless). She has little to no memory of Verri and spent most of her days learning to be a lady... To speak like a lady, to embroider, to sing and pluck a tune on a lute like a lady... How very dull and drab. She had, nevertheless, been pampered, for her father had donated generously and made it clear that she was to be a lady, not a servant. She had her own servants, they did everything for her. The cloister was raided and many lives were lost, and now she finds herself traveling alone for parts unknown.
She has known lots of war.
Then she met her mate, Cairex, and they set off into the Usque, only to be torn apart by the cataclysm...
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 13:59:40 GMT -5
|
Post by Faisine D'Arcy on Aug 24, 2023 8:45:14 GMT -5
Faisine sat at the end of the dock, one foot propped on the end plank and the other was dangling so the toe grazed the water. She was in her quiet state of mind, feeling sad and alone at the moment. It seemed to her that romance was a bad idea, considering out it worked out for her every time... She was not certain that love was in her cards anymore if they kept leaving one way or another, death included. Her mouth was relaxed, her face clear of the worry and sadness even as she felt morose. The breeze lifted her hair across her face and she ignored it, staring but unseeing of the beauty that filled the evening sky.
Normally, she'd be singing and playing by now upon her citole. But she wasn't. She was... just there. Her thoughts were on the blonde wizard of a man who had professed his hidden feelings from her before they got separated. She missed his presence. But he had gone too, he'd gotten lost to the Mist or something, there was something that had to have happened, but she didn't understand because she didn't know what.
The nymph woman closed her eyes against the stinging and burning evoked by the saline that threatened to spill over her fair skin. In fact, a droplet soon hung suspended upon a lower lash for a long moment before getting released by a blink, soon to track a path to her chin and hit her clothing. She was just too tired at the moment, soul weary, to bother paying attention. She did, however, shift her head, close her eyes and rest her cheek on her knee.
|
|
Anatolius
Committed
Roleplay posts: 64
Appearance: On the border of youth and middle age, blond-brown hair at points starts greying (giving it a look of a more solid blond) and wrinkles form from stress and too much sun on an otherwise young face.
Registered: Apr 9, 2021 22:01:35 GMT -5
|
Post by Anatolius on Aug 24, 2023 10:19:41 GMT -5
The raft drifted towards the shore slowly and inaccurately, prompting Anatolius to paddle it with his crudely carved oar every few moments to right its course. He looked different. Pieces of his ornate armour were missing, and what remained was covered in dents, scratches, stains from heat. Rings in his chainmail were missing, or smashed into ovals or other irregular shapes. Beneath, his robes were tattered at many points. That was just what was upon him of course. His head had one or two grey hairs now, while the skin of his face had contours ever so slightly deeper. Stress and time spent was clearly one half of the reasoning for this, but he was also clearly thinner too. While clearly he had much of the same physical development, he had clearly lost bulk from nights spent hungry, cold, or exsanguinated. A fresh assortment of scars was upon his visage, a good few of them still a very raw red or somewhat mended. His right eye had the skin around it an awful blue, the orb itself and some of the eyelight a bright red as whatever impact had come upon it burst a good many blood vessels. His left ear was missing its lobe, a fact for now concealed by a thick wad of bandage upon it. He was paler too now, all too much time under treelines and not under scorching desert suns.
Still, despite all of this suffering he was clearly himself. Though clearly tired, he still kept his back perfectly straight, proud, dignified as he sat. Chin held high, he looked forward and not down. Only the slightest tremble of his lip betrayed the external stoicism for anything that may have been happening within.
It was over, for now. He hoped, anyway. He had seen light on the island at night before, so somebody had to be here. If they were good folk was another question, but he had hoped mother earth and father sky would see to it that the good folk would persevere and he wouldn't arrive to just more woes. Truth was he wasn't sure he could deal with it if she was dead or befallen some similar fate.
He got on one knee as the docks were in eyeshot, and with the passage of some time he saw a figure on there. As he started to make out details of it, he stood upright, and then jumped into the water to propel himself far faster than the wooden craft would. The cold water soaked him through and through, but it didn't quite matter. Through all that had happened, he hardly cared when something far more important was before him. Water splashed in all directions as he went to shore by swung hand and leg, like the torrent coming from a bear rushing after a deer watering itself. For all this, he couldn't help but feel he wasn't getting there fast enough.
|
|
Faisine D'Arcy
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 106
Appearance: Hair: Blonde, almost a white blonde
Eyes: Piercing blue
Height: 5'2"
Build: Slender
Features: Noble
Age: 24
Equipment: Eating Dagger
The clothing on her back
Staff
Citole
Rope
Grappling Hook
Tent
Utilities such as pots and pans, other dishes
Skills and Abilities: She is a singer, with a very lovely voice. She was trained as a spellsong but she does that no more.
Biography: History: Lady Faisine was born in the lost kingdom of Verri, but she was raised in a cloister (Not nuns, but yes, women who were very religious nevertheless). She has little to no memory of Verri and spent most of her days learning to be a lady... To speak like a lady, to embroider, to sing and pluck a tune on a lute like a lady... How very dull and drab. She had, nevertheless, been pampered, for her father had donated generously and made it clear that she was to be a lady, not a servant. She had her own servants, they did everything for her. The cloister was raided and many lives were lost, and now she finds herself traveling alone for parts unknown.
She has known lots of war.
Then she met her mate, Cairex, and they set off into the Usque, only to be torn apart by the cataclysm...
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 13:59:40 GMT -5
|
Post by Faisine D'Arcy on Aug 24, 2023 11:30:09 GMT -5
Another tear seemed to do the same thing, then another and another, and then she was pressing the heel of her hand against her mouth to stifle any sobs that wracked her. She felt like a fool for believing in happily ever after, for feeling like she just couldn't have someone who would show her how she mattered. It had been far too long since she'd felt touch, even just on her face. And then she was about to move off the dock, to walk away from the spot to go find a tree to climb and hide within the leaves... when the sound of splashing water reached her ears. The fact that it was a steady splash like the sound of swimming, getting louder as the swimmer came closer. She would have to go find privacy so she could just let herself grieve and perhaps move on.
But she gave a passing glance toward the swimmer, and when she was able to make out a familiar face, she felt the bottom of her stomach drop from her body. Faisine stood on shaky legs and looked on in disbelief at first, then found herself practically falling off the dock before she began to swim toward him. By the time she reached him, which would take a moment, she was reaching out, seeing he was clearly exhausted. She moved behind him and looped her arms under his, then started swimming him backwards toward the dock.
It would take a little more time to get back to that because they were two swimming, or more like she pulled hopefully with him kicking his legs to help propel them a little faster but she knew not to rely on him if he was this bedraggled. Eventually, somehow, someway, she got him on the dock and put him on his back if he let her, and she began to check him for wounds or injuries, hands shaking.
She was gasping for air at the same time, her throat tight. "Anat..." she gasped out, unable to complete his name.
|
|
Anatolius
Committed
Roleplay posts: 64
Appearance: On the border of youth and middle age, blond-brown hair at points starts greying (giving it a look of a more solid blond) and wrinkles form from stress and too much sun on an otherwise young face.
Registered: Apr 9, 2021 22:01:35 GMT -5
|
Post by Anatolius on Aug 24, 2023 21:34:24 GMT -5
Swimming to the shore, Anatolius got all the confirmation he needed that he wasn't hallucinating from the mushroom he ate the night before, or perhaps an infection from all the physical trauma he received. No, this was the one and only. The irreplaceable, and the incomparable. Faisine.
As she was near enough to touch he began to laugh and cry at once, ever grateful that all the waters covered the salty droplets hemorrhaging from his eyes. "Don't worry, don't worry. I'm fine." He said as she wrapped around him. The man was ever grateful for her touch, but it would be unbecoming to demand salvation from her efforts just now. Thus he redoubled his efforts even if one leg still suffered under a splint. Still he was grateful for the sudden increase in buoyancy. All the steel, silver and gold on him did not exactly float and while confident, he was not absolutely sure he could have made it himself.
At the docks, he pulled himself upwards. He stroke her hair, careful to not have it stuck in his gloves as he did so. He looked on her eyes as she failed to say his name, before shaking his head. "Shhh. Shh. No need. I know. Breathe." waving a hand away as it seemed a thorough examination of him was about to be done. "Please, don't worry for me." Anatolius said. "I am here, the worst is behind. It can only get better." He explained.
Stand, you're soaked!" He said, still laughing and crying in the same instance. He offered a hand to either help her up directly or to simply use as leverage to push upright. "Let us take you somewhere to dry off before you get sick." He said, motioning her to proceed. The wind slightly left his proverbial sail as truth be told he had no idea where the warmth and flame was. But he figured that Faisine would take the lead now.
Oh he ached and hurt, but his heart and mind had enough balm to ignore any wound on skin and bone.
|
|
Faisine D'Arcy
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 106
Appearance: Hair: Blonde, almost a white blonde
Eyes: Piercing blue
Height: 5'2"
Build: Slender
Features: Noble
Age: 24
Equipment: Eating Dagger
The clothing on her back
Staff
Citole
Rope
Grappling Hook
Tent
Utilities such as pots and pans, other dishes
Skills and Abilities: She is a singer, with a very lovely voice. She was trained as a spellsong but she does that no more.
Biography: History: Lady Faisine was born in the lost kingdom of Verri, but she was raised in a cloister (Not nuns, but yes, women who were very religious nevertheless). She has little to no memory of Verri and spent most of her days learning to be a lady... To speak like a lady, to embroider, to sing and pluck a tune on a lute like a lady... How very dull and drab. She had, nevertheless, been pampered, for her father had donated generously and made it clear that she was to be a lady, not a servant. She had her own servants, they did everything for her. The cloister was raided and many lives were lost, and now she finds herself traveling alone for parts unknown.
She has known lots of war.
Then she met her mate, Cairex, and they set off into the Usque, only to be torn apart by the cataclysm...
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 13:59:40 GMT -5
|
Post by Faisine D'Arcy on Aug 29, 2023 8:55:17 GMT -5
She was afraid to make another move, that if she tried to press her lips to his, he'd disappear again and she would be left to deal yet again with the tatters of her heart being shred a little more by losing him another time after losing so many in the end of the old world. But then she couldn't stop herself, she pressed her mouth to his in a way that she hadn't done before, not to him nor anyone including the one man she took as a mate. Her mouth was desperate against his, pleading.
But she forced herself to rip her mouth away, but only just a few inches while she started to shake from the cold of being wet. She started to wrench at the fastenings of his armor despite any protest, mostly to help lighten him up enough so he could move freely again. Regardless of whether he let her get it off of him all by herself, there was no stopping her at this point, or he helped her to do so, the clang of his armor hitting the ground unceremoniously resounded within their ears. And then she peeled only the necessaries, the shirt, any other thing covering his torso, away from his flesh, and she was just pressing her hands everywhere to ensure he was alright, that he was intact, whole.
She was sobbing at one point, and then when she was finally satisfied he was as intact as he could be in that moment, she flung herself into his arms and clung to him, sobbing.
|
|
Anatolius
Committed
Roleplay posts: 64
Appearance: On the border of youth and middle age, blond-brown hair at points starts greying (giving it a look of a more solid blond) and wrinkles form from stress and too much sun on an otherwise young face.
Registered: Apr 9, 2021 22:01:35 GMT -5
|
Post by Anatolius on Aug 29, 2023 23:30:05 GMT -5
As they embraced Anatolius was caught very much off guard by the sudden action of his counterpart. His eyes opened wide, and where moments before he felt about to collapse from exhaustion the man quite abruptly felt full of vigour and lucidity he hadn't had the likes of in years. But as the initial surprise wore off, he tightened his hold on Faisine, a hand going through her hair in their brief intimacy. When at last she pulled back, he looked away, his cheeks suddenly red as roses with blush despite the rest of him being quite pale from cold. "Err, sorry, I am not quite good at that. But thank you for it." He was almost too scared to say what had transpired aloud lest it be a dream, a delirium, or a pushing of things too fast. For now, he was content to simply exist in the moment.
"Please, don't it's fine!" He insisted, but as his words had no effect it wasn't as if he would hold her hands to make her stop. Thus, he simply moved his hands to help expedite the process and not burden the dearest before him. "Here, let me." He whispered. His hands went down, and a clasp unleashed his breastplate two fall into two cuirass halves each easily weighing ten kilograms as they thudded loudly into the ground. The steel skirt came off next, followed by greaves, pauldrons, cuissets, tassets, and so on until he could pull off his chainmail overcoat. At last he was left in his linen robes, their tinting a gold-like orange that would hide most stains. His hands ran along his body, the feeling of nakedness overwhelming the man as he lost the fifty or so kilograms of metal that were his second skin.
He was in fact whole for the most part, perhaps somewhat more scarred since their last meeting. A thorough investigation of his physique would yield that he had lost easily ten kilograms of flesh since their last encounter between diet and muscular atrophy, but for the most part he still had a build that would be called lion-like by himself, but bull-like by less charitable (if more honest) strangers. Perhaps to her surprise seeing him without his armour, she would find his arms and legs had wrapped into them strings of prayer beads of a quite South-Eastern variety so deep each tiny ball had submerged itself halfway into his skin.
He huffed slightly as Faisine knocked the wind out of him more than metaphorically, but again he let a hand go through her hair reassuringly. Still, he very slowly began to fall back into the grass until his back touched it. "You know, I thought of you. Every time I'd get a brief respite, I thought of the promise unkept. But I'm here now. Thank the burning light above, you seem to have forgiven me."
Slowly his eyelids began to close, but he forced them open into wakefulness. "A chance for fire? I would rather get there myself than have these robes sullied as you dray my snoring being to it. An arduous task I won't lie!" Anatolius said half in jest.
|
|
Faisine D'Arcy
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 106
Appearance: Hair: Blonde, almost a white blonde
Eyes: Piercing blue
Height: 5'2"
Build: Slender
Features: Noble
Age: 24
Equipment: Eating Dagger
The clothing on her back
Staff
Citole
Rope
Grappling Hook
Tent
Utilities such as pots and pans, other dishes
Skills and Abilities: She is a singer, with a very lovely voice. She was trained as a spellsong but she does that no more.
Biography: History: Lady Faisine was born in the lost kingdom of Verri, but she was raised in a cloister (Not nuns, but yes, women who were very religious nevertheless). She has little to no memory of Verri and spent most of her days learning to be a lady... To speak like a lady, to embroider, to sing and pluck a tune on a lute like a lady... How very dull and drab. She had, nevertheless, been pampered, for her father had donated generously and made it clear that she was to be a lady, not a servant. She had her own servants, they did everything for her. The cloister was raided and many lives were lost, and now she finds herself traveling alone for parts unknown.
She has known lots of war.
Then she met her mate, Cairex, and they set off into the Usque, only to be torn apart by the cataclysm...
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 13:59:40 GMT -5
|
Post by Faisine D'Arcy on Sept 3, 2023 13:20:19 GMT -5
She did not want to let him go. She cried for a good moment before she calmed. And even after she was calm, she did not say anything for a long time. But when he brought up the fire, she nodded, her blue gaze on his face. She had thought he'd died, thought that he was lost to her forever after just finding him again. He was the only true link she had to her old life, for she hardly knew anyone in these parts, though she had watched Tana's coronation proceed just as the world ended. She slowly pulled away from him then, too overwhelmed to speak for the moment.
She moved to get a fire going with wood she'd gathered earlier for such a thing, glad for that forethought since she had planned on sleeping by the sea. She wasted no time in getting the flames going, and soon enough it blazed cheerfully in the pit she had dug. She moved his things closer to the camp site, which wasn't even 10 meters away from where they were. Then she moved to help him if he needed to stand, and would accompany him to where things were going. Once she got him settled, assuming he let her, she pulled some food out of her bag and a jug of water. She then offered it to him.
"Do you think you could eat?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion. Her eyes were so sad as they peered at his face, though a huge wash of relief was there as well for the sight of him yet alive.
Faisine had wanted to keep things slow and simple but she needed to feel him against her, and even more so other things that she would not be pressed to name at the moment.
Once she was sure he could at least reach those things, she curled up on the pallet too.
|
|
Anatolius
Committed
Roleplay posts: 64
Appearance: On the border of youth and middle age, blond-brown hair at points starts greying (giving it a look of a more solid blond) and wrinkles form from stress and too much sun on an otherwise young face.
Registered: Apr 9, 2021 22:01:35 GMT -5
|
Post by Anatolius on Sept 5, 2023 23:59:54 GMT -5
Anatolius sighed deeply as Faisine cried. He clutched her a little tighter as her tears went on, patting her on the back a few more times, giving her a kiss on the forehead. The man's hands trembled a little as he did so, a thought overwhelming him that he voice. "I did this? Its on my account? To think." he shook his head. "I'm sorry. I never meant to make you hurt, to leave you so. If only I hadn't shown my face then." he said, sighing yet again. "I'm sorry." the phrase repeated much like the sigh.
As she went for fire making, he very carefully reassembled the armour; though he wouldn't don it now, having it all connected by its straps and chains was a convenient way of carrying it with him. Divines knew he wouldn't want to have it lost, not after all the years.
With that he followed her quite eagerly, he'd take the cold as stoically as anything else but that didn't mean he had to damn well like it. He was perfectly able to move by himself, chuckling with the threat of tears coming on once more at the attention and concern for him. "Please, I'm not an invalid. I can yet care for myself." he'd say, and as if to demonstrate would jump giving a surprisingly graceful cabriole almost as a ballerina.
A phlegmy but humoured snort came from him when asked if he could eat, some folksy adage about food that would typically be uttered by sailors and other such foul mouthed creatures on the cusp of leaving his lips. Then remembering that he was in the presence of a refined lady he nodded and said "yes, if you have enough to spare. He was certainly hungry, a fact that mirrored his first meeting with Faisine on the island now that he thought about it. "There's a word for a feeling of when something is happening again." Anatolius said. "Getting it now. Doesn't matter."
He turned this way and that to the fire to let different parts of himself dry off, before eventually speaking once more. "You look well. I have the same sense of wonder now as the first time I looked upon you."
|
|
Faisine D'Arcy
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 106
Appearance: Hair: Blonde, almost a white blonde
Eyes: Piercing blue
Height: 5'2"
Build: Slender
Features: Noble
Age: 24
Equipment: Eating Dagger
The clothing on her back
Staff
Citole
Rope
Grappling Hook
Tent
Utilities such as pots and pans, other dishes
Skills and Abilities: She is a singer, with a very lovely voice. She was trained as a spellsong but she does that no more.
Biography: History: Lady Faisine was born in the lost kingdom of Verri, but she was raised in a cloister (Not nuns, but yes, women who were very religious nevertheless). She has little to no memory of Verri and spent most of her days learning to be a lady... To speak like a lady, to embroider, to sing and pluck a tune on a lute like a lady... How very dull and drab. She had, nevertheless, been pampered, for her father had donated generously and made it clear that she was to be a lady, not a servant. She had her own servants, they did everything for her. The cloister was raided and many lives were lost, and now she finds herself traveling alone for parts unknown.
She has known lots of war.
Then she met her mate, Cairex, and they set off into the Usque, only to be torn apart by the cataclysm...
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 13:59:40 GMT -5
|
Post by Faisine D'Arcy on Sept 9, 2023 21:43:12 GMT -5
She watched him move around from where she lay, curled up now as the flames cast a golden halo about her and the rest of the surrounding area. The sun was already dipping below the horizon to be swallowed by the ocean as the moon began to lift in the east. The logs cracked and popped at random intervals, sparks flying with the shift of the smaller pieces of wood with the weight of the bigger logs pressing down on them. It wouldn't take her long to sit up and wrap her arms around her legs, shivering but in a bit of a shock at the moment that she could not seem to comprehend that he was really there. Her pupils even dilated some, creating larger pools of black against the cobalt color of her irises to create the illusion of darker blue, tears still clinging to her flesh as much as the sea water that they had just swam within.
She couldn't seem to speak for the longest time, closing her eyes against another bout of emotion. She wished he would come to her and reassure her that he was real, yet asking for such caused her to feel as if her throat had closed.
She then rose, took a deep breath and moved to get some clothing for her, and she bit into her lip. She still had some of her mate's clothing, and she wasn't certain if it was right or wrong at this point, for she did now wish for him to get the wrong idea about her intentions should she give him the clothes to change into. Yet she could not let him sleep in salty clothing, nor could she. She pulled out the homespun shirt and the britches, well, the spare set he'd had in his bags. She had once slept with her face pressed against the shirt until the scent had long faded. She'd laundered it and had meant to give it to someone in need but it just happened to be someone she cared about as much, if not more than her late mate.
Her hands moved in acquiescence, and she would be honest with him about the significance of the clothing. She pulled out her own clothing, and she moved to stand before him. Her eyes met his. "These belonged to my mate before he died... While I don't have much more of his things as I have slowly let go of them, I kept these until they no longer smelled of him, which was not long before you and I saw each other before. I won't lie to you or omit the fact that they were his, but he's been long dead at this point and I will still have a few tokens of our life together to look upon. These need to belong to someone else now, and I am somewhat amused at the irony of this that I am handing these to someone I care about more than him because they need something and these are of no more use to me." She did not smile as she gave over the clothing, which seemed about the right size, if not slightly loose on him, if he took and tried them on at some point. "I just don't wish for you to think that this means something when the significance of these things have changed for me a long time ago. You need to get out of those wet and salty clothes as much as I do."
Assuming he took the clothes, and knowing she had not really said anything toward what he had said since it was hard for her to do so (her whole speech was halting and hesitant, and she seemed to be in a dazed state at the moment, her brows puckered and her face had an almost troubled expression.
|
|
Anatolius
Committed
Roleplay posts: 64
Appearance: On the border of youth and middle age, blond-brown hair at points starts greying (giving it a look of a more solid blond) and wrinkles form from stress and too much sun on an otherwise young face.
Registered: Apr 9, 2021 22:01:35 GMT -5
|
Post by Anatolius on Sept 11, 2023 16:20:59 GMT -5
While his counterpart maintained her gaze upon him, Anatolius simply stared into the flame. His amber eyes illuminated against the flame and his hair wet and yet still greasy from a long time without a proper bath gave a distinctly golden sheen from him. It seemed to him that just like himself, Faisine had gone through a lot herself. Perhaps not quite in the same way, what with the lack of anything marring the perfect form within his vision as opposed to him that looked as a rabid stray cat after a few hundred brawls with similar ill-raised kitties in cold hungry nights. But regardless she had clearly suffered in more ways than one, and he knew well enough that the wounds in mind, heart, and soul did not scar or heal the same way those on flesh did. They always remained there at risk of being torn open once more. Did he open old wounds for the girl with his arrival? Maybe. Would it have been better if he stayed gone and already grieved for? Probably not, but it was a thought that would bite at the corner of his mind every time that he stole a glance at Faisine and saw anything but positive emotion upon her.
His gaze drifted up as Faisine presented a new set of clothes, and as she finished giving her explanation, he was quiet for a moment before very briefly guffawing. "Oh, come on. Did you expect me to be jealous?" he shook his head chuckling. "You're your own person, you owe me nothing. Thank you for this." he said, smiling earnestly to her. It was a said tale she told, and he gave her a pat on the shoulder as he took the offered change of clothes. "I'm sorry to hear it ended that way." he added, sincere in his remorse. As he looked upon the alternate clothing, he was a little bashful about changing into them. Even ignoring the immodesty of the act, his current robes meant a lot to him.
"Ahem." he articulated, standing up. "I'll err... go and change into them." he said, failing to suppress a slight blush.
He'd go some distance out of eyeshot and do as ordered, returning to the flame looking up his new dress. It wouldn't be his first choice, but he would never ask for anything else. With his hands on his old robes, he gave them a single powerful twist to strain out all the water, and then let them rest on a stick he planted into the ground to let the little remaining moisture dry out.
Hoping Faisine's mood was better with his return, he spoke again. "You know I thought of you every time I awoke."
|
|
Faisine D'Arcy
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 106
Appearance: Hair: Blonde, almost a white blonde
Eyes: Piercing blue
Height: 5'2"
Build: Slender
Features: Noble
Age: 24
Equipment: Eating Dagger
The clothing on her back
Staff
Citole
Rope
Grappling Hook
Tent
Utilities such as pots and pans, other dishes
Skills and Abilities: She is a singer, with a very lovely voice. She was trained as a spellsong but she does that no more.
Biography: History: Lady Faisine was born in the lost kingdom of Verri, but she was raised in a cloister (Not nuns, but yes, women who were very religious nevertheless). She has little to no memory of Verri and spent most of her days learning to be a lady... To speak like a lady, to embroider, to sing and pluck a tune on a lute like a lady... How very dull and drab. She had, nevertheless, been pampered, for her father had donated generously and made it clear that she was to be a lady, not a servant. She had her own servants, they did everything for her. The cloister was raided and many lives were lost, and now she finds herself traveling alone for parts unknown.
She has known lots of war.
Then she met her mate, Cairex, and they set off into the Usque, only to be torn apart by the cataclysm...
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 13:59:40 GMT -5
|
Post by Faisine D'Arcy on Sept 16, 2023 10:41:17 GMT -5
He didn't realize it, but he hurt her feelings when he guffawed and tried to reassure her. She straightened herself up into a rigid stance and simply explained, "No. I was only trying to be honest so you wouldn't have to question where the clothing came from. I have no doubt wearing them aren't a big deal to you, but it was very hard for me to even offer these things to you wondering if I might offend you by giving you my dead mate's clothing. Some find it hard to bear when presented with something of such magnitude." And then she kind of walked off into the woods to take care of her needs.
She didn't go far enough he couldn't hear her, though, as she burst into tears again. He'd be able to hear her try not to cry loud, hear her try to stifle each sob as they were muffled by her pressing her knuckles firmly against her mouth. She was only gone for a few minutes before she returned to the camp wearing a dress he probably might find a bit too revealing but she didn't care because she was dry again. It was her ceremonial wear. Her other clothing needed laundering and it wasn't like she dressed to impress.
The dress was sort of like a toga in that it was somewhat loose fitting, but the hem of it was sheer toward the bottom and the fabric would definitely leave little to the imagination if she fell into a puddle or something, but it wasn't something ugly or anything. It was just something HE might not agree with. She sat by the fire and began to groom her hair quietly, her dark blue gaze faraway. There were smudges beneath her eyes and she looked haunted.
When he spoke, she looked to him but wasn't sure how to respond.
|
|
Anatolius
Committed
Roleplay posts: 64
Appearance: On the border of youth and middle age, blond-brown hair at points starts greying (giving it a look of a more solid blond) and wrinkles form from stress and too much sun on an otherwise young face.
Registered: Apr 9, 2021 22:01:35 GMT -5
|
Post by Anatolius on Sept 19, 2023 0:25:24 GMT -5
"Oh, I, well, I misunderstood." he said very awkwardly at Faisine's reply. He knew not what to say or do at this. His hands fidgeted this way and that, the earlier feeling of nakedness all the more embarrassing and uncomfortable than before. To be honest, he felt brief relief when she left as this gave him a moment to once more find composure as he stared into the flame. This feeling of relief disintegrated almost instantly however when he heard tears.
"Damn, damn, damn." he cursed to himself, pacing this way and that as he overheard her. He wasn't an idiot, and knew neither was the woman, when she returned he would be at an even greater loss for words. Frustrated at his own failure and foolishness he struck at a rock, cursing once more as the stone shattered and his knuckles bled.
As Faisine returned and quiet dawned after his statement, Anatolius briefly stared into the flame again. When it seemed his counterpart would not shatter the ever heavier silence he stood up, and went to her side to kneel by it. "Look, Lady D'Ar-... Faisine. I am sorry. These things I say. I run my mouth too wild, or not at all. I try to temper it, but I am a deeply flawed man. Forgive me, I beg. I will not lie and pretend I meant to say something else. But I never intended to make you hurt, I would never have said this if I thought it would do such. My whole life I have dealt with loss and experienced it differently than most, I struggle to understand how others do so. But this is not an excuse, I will not ask for such it is not my right. I simply ask you understand before...." he trailed off briefly.
"Dear as you are to me in a way nobody else was, your wish is my command. If you so want, I will leave. Seeing you like this brings me no pleasure, I shan't be the cause of your suffering."
|
|
Faisine D'Arcy
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 106
Appearance: Hair: Blonde, almost a white blonde
Eyes: Piercing blue
Height: 5'2"
Build: Slender
Features: Noble
Age: 24
Equipment: Eating Dagger
The clothing on her back
Staff
Citole
Rope
Grappling Hook
Tent
Utilities such as pots and pans, other dishes
Skills and Abilities: She is a singer, with a very lovely voice. She was trained as a spellsong but she does that no more.
Biography: History: Lady Faisine was born in the lost kingdom of Verri, but she was raised in a cloister (Not nuns, but yes, women who were very religious nevertheless). She has little to no memory of Verri and spent most of her days learning to be a lady... To speak like a lady, to embroider, to sing and pluck a tune on a lute like a lady... How very dull and drab. She had, nevertheless, been pampered, for her father had donated generously and made it clear that she was to be a lady, not a servant. She had her own servants, they did everything for her. The cloister was raided and many lives were lost, and now she finds herself traveling alone for parts unknown.
She has known lots of war.
Then she met her mate, Cairex, and they set off into the Usque, only to be torn apart by the cataclysm...
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 13:59:40 GMT -5
|
Post by Faisine D'Arcy on Sept 20, 2023 22:37:36 GMT -5
She blinked a few times. "Leave? Why would I want that?" Her eyes, watery, perhaps, met his. Hers were pretty morose, even, but not angry. She said very low in her voice, only he would hear though nobody else was around at the moment but the two of them, "I mourned for you. I thought you had died already. The last thing I want is for you to leave me once more. What I want is something you haven't given me yet." She snorted and then looked away, her face flushing with her feelings about to be put on display for him. While he had seen her at her worst, he had never seen her as vulnerable as she was about to let him see.
"I want something you're not ready to give to me," she said with a small, sad laugh before covering her face for a moment. Then she raked her hand through the mass of her half-wet hair, not it's normal cloud like wisps. Her eyes then met his, and she said, "There were so many nights where I thought of you and dreamed of you... and... I felt cheated because it was as though you were swallowed up by the mist as was I. And now I cannot help but feel my mortality once more. I don't want to wander about alone anymore, I don't want to be alone, I want to have purpose again and wandering aimlessly isn't that. I want a baby. I want a family, I want marriage. I want... something more than what I have, and I don't know how else to say it. I want to feel it grow within me. I want to know joy and laughter. I want to make love. I want to do it beneath the moon. I miss the feel of being held and feeling safe. I miss having companionship. I am not a solitary creature but I've had to be since before the flood that brought me here. Gods, I want so much of what has been promised to me by my family, a place I could call home even. Yet here I am, wandering alone over and over, losing one person after another... And I thought I lost you... and I don't want to lose you next time without at least part of you with me. Does that make sense? And I don't expect you to just... be... but I still very much desire those things."
|
|
Anatolius
Committed
Roleplay posts: 64
Appearance: On the border of youth and middle age, blond-brown hair at points starts greying (giving it a look of a more solid blond) and wrinkles form from stress and too much sun on an otherwise young face.
Registered: Apr 9, 2021 22:01:35 GMT -5
|
Post by Anatolius on Sept 21, 2023 15:28:24 GMT -5
"I don't know." He replied, when asked why she would want that. "But, there are many things I do not know. I struggle to understand this world. Words pass through my ears, but the meanings beyond that which might be found by finding them one by one in a dictionary are usually beyond me. I am lost, but I will never stop trying to get to what is right."
As Faisine went on, Anatolius listened in silence, still kneeling. As she finished, he closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. "Very well." he said. Without prompt, of the clothes he was provided he took off that which covered his upper body. It was the first time he was exposed to her as such, revealing a great deal of body art on his frame covered in great slabs of meat. There was a great deal of body art upon it, though not a single tattoo. On his back were branded great wings on his shoulder blades. His lower back and obliques were both covered in paragraphs upon paragraphs of text, this done by scarring rather than branding. A sword was branded with it handle starting at his throat and the blade ending in his abdomen. Many more such images were upon his body, though he did not particularly work to show them off seemingly content to be briefly in absolute stillness, seemingly ignorant of the cold.
He reached over for his sword, grabbing it with one hand on the blade. The other began screwing off the pommel. He then disassembled the crossguard in entirety, from it eventually withdrawing two washers. He inspected his own hand, and then looked towards Faisine briefly. With a stone smashed the oval shapes into something a little rounder, a few times looking at his handiwork before repeating the cycle until satisfied.
Again the man closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, before opening them once more. "They'll have to do for now." he muttered, before looking up to Faisine. He brought his other leg down, such that now he was kneeling on both knees rather than just one. He reached out to his counterpart with one of the very crudely crafted rings, and then spoke with his lip trembling. "If you find me worthy, then I will give all of this to you right here, right now, the instant you say yes. I have no need for ceremony or elaborate vows, I have faith enough in you I need not play with semantics. Simply promise you will forever try to do your best by me, and state 'Anatolius, you are mine.' Say this, and I will give you all you wish this very second. Forever with you, my soul ever yours even after my bones are dust millennia from now." His hands now began to tremble, anxiety that she might say no or some other unexpected outcome might arrive overcoming him. Still, the hand bearing the ring arose, supplicant to the woman before him.
|
|
