Conscripts

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

John Harling Williamson

James Harling Williamson | 24 | Male

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Appearance

Height: 5”7’/175cm
Weight: 121lbs/55kg
Eye Color: Dark Brown
Hair Length/Texture: Short, neat and curly
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Skin Color: White
Distinguishing features: Everyone tends to underguess his actual age, due to his neatly kept hair, clean-shaven face.
Clothing Preferences: John has shown outright indifference towards the extravagant lace, embroidery and embellishments that come to define royalty, even in court settings, and embraces a more simple and uniform design in his black coat, dark cravat, tall collared lighter-colored shirt, and plain-colored breeches.

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Psychology

Likes:
• Food in his stomach
• A good night's sleep
• A ton of white papers (yes, really)
• General respectfulness

Dislikes:
• Close-mindedness
• Sloppiness
• Unsanitary behavior (he is a medical doctor)
• Pompousness and elitism

Sexuality:
• Heterosexual

Hobbies:
• Writing journals
• Wildlife watching
• Board games

Life Goals/Dreams:
Just doing his best he could for this kingdom, wherever he ends up in.

Personality Summary:
Generally a pleasant and non-assertive person, John often tries to steer away from direct confrontation with the person he is conversing with. He often lets the other parties lead the conversation, and if given the choice, he would let a more assertive person make the confrontation for him. However, he is still generally quite good with words, so he tends to get the idea across in more indirect ways. When given the light, John is actually very conversational. He had virtually no taboo topic, he’d talk about his research, his daily life or even random stuff in an often witty way and understandable to normal people. Humble yet unabashed about his upbringing and accomplishments, he would engage with anyone while still being himself, a man of commoner's upbringing, and he would not be shamed for it.

When it comes to his profession, however, John is a lot more meticulous. He approached any problem with vigor and does not simply let a few ‘I don’t know’ hold him back. He’d carve his way there, one way or another, but he would. He is also generally more decisive and intense if push comes to shove. He keeps very detailed paper records of his work, and also likes to write journals for more casual matters.

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Background

Current occupation:
Royal Physician
Member of the Varian Royal Institute of Science

Any past occupations?:
Physician assistant apprentice
General practitioner

Relatives:
Laura Harling Williamson (Mother)
Frances Harling Williamson (Father)

Skills:
Medicine and surgery
Basic epidemiology
Mathematics
Superb critical thinking

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History Summary

John’s family history was not always poor. His family inn used to be doing relatively decently in the capital Sorian of Caesonia, attracting lodgers from all across the kingdom due to their cheap price. Some of the inn customers throughout the years left behind books that they either forgot or did not need, which would be on display in the common area of the building. That, combined with John’s unusual aptitude for critical thinking, he, despite not knowing how to read at the time, was able to form words and short somewhat-cohesive sentences just by curiously looking through pages and pages of the books on the shelves. With some proper guidance from his parents, John was able to read texts properly and write cohesively at the age of 5, as well as recount familiar stories using descriptive languages. Upon realizing their child’s curious mind and almost insatiable desire to poke things around, Laura and Frances Williamson decided that their son would be much better educated, so they spent their wealth and savings to afford a school for John. And here is a man who loves education. He took to schooling rigorously, consistently being ahead of the learning curve where the teacher often relied on to help weaker students.

However, his time in Caesonia would come to an abrupt end by a paranoid ruler. John’s sociable personality and his education got him mingled with a fair number of aristocrats. Leaks went to king Danrose that one of his sons was befriending and often hanging out with John, a child of, according to him, ‘a scourge’. And that was it, enough reasoning to banish him and the entire family up north to the mountains.

Frances knew that if they stayed up there, they would definitely die sooner or later. So the three of them decided to make a daring crossing through the mountains to the border river with Varian. The trip across the river almost drowned the family when their boat capsized. Thankfully, border guards noticed the family in peril and rescued them, but harsh climate, rough terrain, and diseases made the initial experience a living hell for the three. But they eventually and miraculously made it to the small town of Kolonivka, where they settled down.

Having lost all belongings in the river trip, Laura and Frances were forced to do hard labour to make ends meet. Feeling great sympathy for his parent’s struggle, the then 12-year-old John too worked in the mines but managed to find a medical apprentice later with a family doctor in the town. At first, his job was merely menial labor of fetching tools, medicine, and preparing treatment, but the doctor was impressed by the young boy’s biological knowledge and sharp intuition, so she closely tutored him and allowed more increasing autonomy over the years. At a certain point, he was able to handle patients without supervision, effectively an independent general practitioner, just under another person’s name.

One day, an outbreak broke out in Kolonivka. Many townsfolk fell severely ill, including the lords in the region. Doctors and officials gathered to tackle the increasingly overwhelming cases, and John was there. His hypothesis was initially disregarded, but as solutions began to run dry, it was put to the test, and soon enough, the outbreak was quickly contained. His precise prediction of the situation earned him a glowing reputation in the town and caught the attention of the local lords, who recommended John formal employment in the royal court. Eventually, he made his way into the Varian Royal Institute of Science, helping to carry out medicinal projects around the kingdom.

Roses and Daggers - Romance

Hmm, I'm definitely interested. Varian kingdom seems to be what I'm leaning towards, but I'm probably going for an outsider. Perhaps someone working for the royalty instead of born royal.

Kōkyo | Anime Survival Horror RP [Interest Check]

Eh, why not?

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard [Pt. 2 - Open] ~

_{Midnight, December 30th, Imperial Trench}

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As much as Michael preferred (and boasted about it earlier) to go almost bare-handed and melee-only into this mission, he ended up reconsidering, mostly because he didn't feel safe without a rifle. He surely wanted a spade for in case they got pinned down somehow in No Man's Land. He didn't know how, but the thought of it already guaranteed that, a rifle in case he had to fight in straight trenches, a couple of grenades for good measures, and several wire-dismantling tools. Soon enough, he had pretty much the same loadout as his normal missions. But 'that's fine,', he told himself. He had carried and fought in uglier situations.

Prior to the missions, Michael had handed all the trench raider team a wire-cutter, but just to be safe that someone actually do the job properly, he was at the front to dismantle the Imperial wires. Once he was finished, he signaled Alex to get the team up, but not everyone got the message properly or was willing to obey the orders of the Sergeant. The one first forward was that Darcsen girl earlier, and she already did not respect the stealth aspect of this mission. And well...everyone just followed suit. Whatever plans the Sergeant cooked up in his head were probably frustratingly being shoved down that Imperial he just shot.

'Guys...' Michael groaned quietly. When he gets back, he'd squash something. But fine, he'd follow along. He was the last to jump into the trenches in which three Imperials lay dead on. Since Michael felt like the team didn't need more coverage, he went around the area they just infiltrated and searched the corpses of the three Imperials. There were rifles, tools but no pistols, something Michael would very much prefer over his bulky rifle. But he found a couple of grenades on them, and he quietly tucked it into his sack. Those gunshots likely had attracted the Imperial's attentions, and they'd very soon flood in from all sides. Whatever firepower he could lay his hands on, the better.

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard [Pt. 2 - Open] ~

Jakou Morvan

_{December 30th - Gossiping before battle}

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The atmosphere that both the Sergeant and the newcomer created was heavy, but the sapper failed to pick up any tension among them. From the mannerism, the way that the Sergeant stood dumbstruck and the quick order to get both himself and the Private a room, it wasn’t difficult to discern their unspoken pain and bond. And for that, Michael did not have any reserve to respect their wish. He too packed his belongings and made his way out to where Elliot and Jakou were.

“Well, my typical guess would be that they just lost each other in a battle, and now just discovered each other again.” Was Michael’s response upon arriving and hearing the question. It was way too common nowadays, squads decimated, cut down by machine guns or artilleries in a vain and desperate attempt by the higher ups to gain like 200 yards of territory. In fact, his squad wasn’t doing that much better at Hill 51. That unnamed Cruxian woman who gave him that first sense of reassurance. Now she’s 6 feet under. Same goes with Mila, Gwyth and others he knew but was now dead or missing; the former a lot more common than the latter. “Other than that, who knows. I’d love to ask them when they are more comfortable about it.”

Emmerich watched in silence as the woman began openly displaying her hatred towards imperials, speaking about torturing them with a morbid glee in her voice. So many times Emmerich had heard similar words. Truth be told, Emmerich couldn't bring himself to feel anything as he heard the woman's words. Any signs of patriotism or even any feeling he could have for being an imperial were long gone, along with honestly, most other feelings he could have. Regarding the war, his superiors (both the old ones and the new ones) and most other things and so, Emmerich simply watched in silence, no emotion in his eyes as he simply sighed.

Hatred ran deep in both sides of the war, a misguided hatred that was implanted on the heads of soldiers, thanks to inflamed speeches, propaganda and lies from the ones on the top, only to feed their own greed and selfish desires. To them, soldiers were nothing but pawns on a chess board. Nameless pieces in a gigantic chess board that only existed to be used and then thrown away.

"Back to waiting..." he thought to himself, with an exhausted expression as the NCO who admonished the woman shooed the rest of the people away after the girl stormed away and the commotion ended.

As the NCO began talking with one of the newcomers, Emmerich walked away, looking for a bench or any place he could sit down to wait for his next orders. After all, that was 'life' for him. A constant cycle of waiting, killing and then waiting again. Being 'alive' was too strong of a word to define what that was. For Emmerich, he simply 'existed' and nothing more.
Just as he got out though, he saw a small gathering of people who were talking to each other. The first had asked what the soldier and the woman had with each other, to warrant such blatant display. After hearing that, two others who were passing by joined the conversation, each one with their own ideas and views.

"Whatever it is, is either too personal or too important for us low soldiers to hear." Emmerich said in an emotionless tone, a few steps away from the others as he walked away from where the NCO and the other newcomer were.

Elliot nodded at everyone’s responses. The Rennesian simply stated that he didn’t know, the Tyrellan made his own theory as to what had happened, and the Imperial said that it didn’t matter. To the marksman, they were all valid answers.

“True enough.” He said, acknowledging everyone’s words. “Me, I don’t know what to think, myself.” Elliot sighed. “...Not that it matters much, anyway.”

The young man then turned to the sapper who had been assigned to them. So... He starts. ”You’re the one in charge of squaring us away. Do we need anything else, or are we covered?”

“It’s good to be aware I guess.” Michael shrugged his shoulders. He probably never would have anything to do with them in the future. Hell they might even be dead on the same day. But who knows what the Lord had in store for him. He wouldn’t want to misstep on relationship issues, even unintentionally. “But he’s right, beyond this is just gossiping, so let’s keep it that way.”

And thankfully, it was kept that way. Elliot changed the topic over to the trench raid mission. On that note, Michael was reminded of what he was told just earlier.

“Ah, yes. You’d need a wire cutter. Remind me how many people are on this mission and I’ll get on it before we depart.” The sapper scratched his temple, pondering over what else to grab. Fighting wasn’t the only part of the mission; there was also getting there and getting back. And for a human mortal, the barbed wire is the most annoying and painful thing to cross aside from the bullet, so he wanted to make sure the team didn’t have to waste time doing that. “Other than that, not really. There’s no tool specifically for capturing prisoners, so you just gotta bring what makes you best. Whatever that may be.”

Michael sort of rolled his eyes away at the last sentence. Hey, if human lives weren’t going to be preserved, at least the mission could be finished. He knew the higher ups probably wouldn’t get anything out of the prisoners that isn’t misery, but he just suppressed it for now.

“On another note, I don’t think we’ve properly met each other. Call me Michael, your local sapper of the squad.” He gave a friendly smile to the group and a slight bow with a hand on his chest. “How is everyone doing today? Prepared for some close quarter fights?”

The topic of their NCO’s former relationships with the mysterious arrival was soon relegated to the background, something Elliot was thankful for. It was good to hear everyone’s thoughts on the matter, but he also knew that it wasn’t good to linger on it.

Soon, the topic shifted to raid preparations. The marksman nodded in turn, making a mental note of Michael’s advice. Wire cutters made sense for a raid like this, and it was good to be mindful of the task at hand. As for tools that would work well on this mission… Elliot didn’t have much in the way of nonlethal options as a marksman-- the garotte might seem like a decent option at first glance, but if it is used as intended with the correct technique… it would shatter the victim’s windpipe, crush their throat, cut their arteries, or a mix of the three.

Not to mention that it was exceedingly difficult to actually use. It was far more likely that the raiding party would get spotted and have to resort to firearms before they’d be able to sneak up on any half-decent sentry.

...still, if there was any mission where a tool like that would shine, it would be a nighttime raid. There may be some merit in a garotte made of softer materials like cloth or fibers for nonlethal takedowns, as opposed to lethal assassinations. Something to think on, he supposed.

Before Elliot could think more upon the mission and the preparations pertaining to it, Michael had said something that snapped the marksman out of his reverie. The sapper introduced himself to the other two-- that’s right. Elliot didn’t actually know many in this platoon, seeing as he was transferred here only recently. Might as well get acquainted. He waited for Michael to finish, before speaking in turn.

“My name is Elliot.” The young man said to the other two, giving them a polite nod. ”As you can probably tell, I’m a marksman-- not that my scope’s going to do me much good in a raid like this.” He gestured to the scoped rifle slung around his shoulder.

“I suppose today’s been a good day-- though I can’t say that I’m exactly… excited for the mission ahead.” Elliot sighed. Close quarters wasn’t his forte, after all. “...But we’ll get it done.” His tone was matter-of-fact, as if failure wasn’t in the cards.

Soon after each one of them gave their own brief opinion about how the NCO and the newcomer knew each other, soon the conversation moved to more important matters, such as the oncoming raid and the preparations for it, more specifically, the only tool that was basically omnipresent in any engagement in the type of war they were fighting: wirecutters. With both sides making ample use of barbed wire to protect their trenches and their positions, any raid of any kind or even any advance towards the enemy lined required a wirecutter. After seeing what happened to unfortunate soldiers who got entangled upon barbed wire, no soldier dared to complain about the added weight of the equipment.

It was then that the sapper introduced himself as Micheal, waiting for the others to tell their names.

"Emmerich, I'm one of the disposable pawns the higher ups like to call "shocktroopers"... Not that different from the Empire, to be honest." Emmerich said with an acid chuckle, his words too close to the truth to be considered as a joke.

"If nothing goes wrong, we will be fighting in real close range, without much space to move around. In that range, a pistol and a knife do their job as well as, if not better than a rifle." he mentioned, after Elliot, the marksman, mentioned that the scope wouldn't do him any good on the oncoming raid.

“Jakou”, saying it while rising his right hand as to make a short wave to the group. “And I am also one of those disposable shocktroopers too.” Disposable, he hated hearing that word but, it is true. Someone has to do what they do, charge at the enemy in the first wave. Someone running into gunfire and barbwire to clear a trench. Someone has to and he ultimately chose this role to his near regret.

“Well, I am prepared to fight in close quarters and knock someone out”, pulling out his trench mace. “Just a need a good swing to the head and it should knock someone out.” If not give them a concussion he knew that but, chose not to say that part. Granted command’s orders were to capture a imperial alive, they did not say the condition. A morbid thought, that Jakou quickly buried in his mind. Only do the damage needed and nothing else, he thought.

“Oh nice.” Michael leaned his head a bit as he saw the trench mace in Jakou’s hand. “That’s at least something meant to take prisoners.” Whether or not this guy was as much of a character as that Darcsen girl earlier was in his mind but at least Michael could give a bit of benefit of the doubt to him that he’d do his job properly. He was glad to have a couple of dedicated ‘disposables’ to cover his own disposable presence too.

“I wouldn’t say I have the best setup for a trench raid.” Michael said as his eyes gestured towards the shovel and carbine on his back. The shovel would be his best friend there, but it was still a bit clunky to use. If he’s too close then it’d be hard to swing it with full force, so he’d just have to watch his distance. “But it’s not bad to use in close quarters. I had some…” He shrugged. “‘ok-ish’ experience with them.”

Elliot looked over at three other soldiers present. It seemed to him that the others expected to die. They very well might-- and so could he. To the marksman, if the thought of probably dying on the battlefield would help steel their nerves, then there wasn’t much harm in it, he supposed.

Michael then spoke up about his own equipment, and an experience he had with his shovel at close quarters.

“I’m glad to see we’re all satisfied with our lot in life.” Elliot chuckled inwardly. “If we all come back from the raid in one piece, how about we all get a drink? You can tell us about that little experience you had too, afterwards.” He suggested, gesturing to Michael at that last sentence.

Truth be told, Elliot wouldn’t normally be the one to suggest something like this, but he figured that by having something to look forward to at the end of this, things would be better for everyone involved. Besides…

Drinking alone was no fun for anyone.

Emmerich listened to their words, nodding in a silent greeting as each one introced themselves, mentioning a bit about their skills or the oncoming raid. After the introductions ended, Elliot mentioned if they were okay with having a drink if they all got back safely, which made Emmerich raise an eyebrow, surprised for the offer.

"Are you sure you want to be seen sharing a drink with an 'imperial scum'?" Emmerich asked, with a dry, sarcastic chuckle.

"Usually, I drink by myself if I can get my hands on something that's at least decent enough to swallow. Having someone to share a drink with once in a while might not be that bad though." He said pondering about the invitation a bit, before accepting it.

“Certainly, that would make for an interesting storytime session, wouldn’t it?”

If that meant they’d get to know how he brutally killed an Imperial he spent a few nights before chit chatting with, or bashing another’s skull with a helmet, yeah…sure. That normally would be a horrific and traumatic event to retell, but Michael had already grown to accept that blood stain on his conscience. He should be able to even joke about it as long as he is aware of its nature.

Speaking of Imperials, what Emmerich just mused about himself was certainly an interesting personal detail. That got Michael to wonder how many of his fellow comrade in arms were formerly Imperials. Hell, what counts as Imperial scum here. There are Gallians living, studying, working in Imperial territory longer than in Gallia, now returning because that country doesn’t want them anymore. There are half-Imperials whose circumstances drifted them into Federation services. There are defectors, refugees and all other sorts of unfortunate circumstances like that too. Too much complexity to feel anything resembling hatred for the ‘imperial scums’. If anything he hated that term itself. So reductive and meaningless.

“Well, I shared a drink with one, I’ll do it again.” Michael said, seemingly very casual about it, “Besides, what can possibly be the problem with that?”

"Did you?" Emmerich asked, raising an eyebrow, surprised as he heard Michael mentioning that he had already shared a drink with one.

Truth be told, people like Micheal were rare. Emmerich didn't really know if Micheal had the same thoughts about the war and the prejudice between both 'sides' of said war, but even though, it was still rare to see people who saw people by what they were and not by their birthplace or something.

"People tend to lose themselves to the war... Fall into an endless spiral of hatred, born from the pretty words of a few big-shots that never even stepped into the battlefield themselves..." He said with an sarcastic chuckle.

"They end up hating and killing the wrong people, for the wrong reasons..." he said with a deep sigh, the sigh of a man who had seen war from up close on both sides. From a man who had healed, drinked and killed people from both sides.

"It's good to see you are not one of those though, Michael." he said, nodding to him with a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

Wrong reasons…. The words echoed in Jakou’s head. Those words that Emmerich said stayed in his head. Did he join for the wrong reason? Sure he enlisted by choice while most were probably conscripted. Forced to fight a war that they may not wish to fight and die for. And his reason to find glory in this miserable war. Against his parents’ wishes to keep their beloved paragon alive and safe from the war.

He can just imagine how his parents felt or reacted to his enlistment. And imagine what he will do once this war is over and he returns home. If he returns home that is. War is cruel but, so far he has managed to survive this long. But, did he join for the wrong reasons and are now killing for the wrong reason? All for glory, he will find a answer sooner or later but, for right now. Jakou is leading to the wrong reasons.

But, snapping back to the present from his thinking, did Jakou speak. Albeit with a unsure tone. “Drinking with an imperial? Uhhh, I do not know about that. Maybe after the war but, right now…. Well kinda, weird to talk about drinking with them when we are going on a mission to capture one.” Weird to him at least, “But do I know, I am just a shocktrooper that survived this long.” Putting on a shrug and saying no more.

It was honestly a little bit funny hearing the responses of the two larger men grappling with the idea of sharing a drink with a supposed enemy. Emmerich was full-on philosophical about it, while Jakou found it strange. It so happened to be that they both represented Michael’s emotional state at a certain point in his past. He too wondered how it would feel like being friendly to an enemy you will be killing the next day, and he too lamented the state where he had to kill someone so akin to him.

“Thanks,” Michael inclined his head slightly at Emmerich, before turning over to Jakou. “If you don’t know about it, how about drinking with a friend?”

He figured this Imperial shit is enough. Let’s actually try to approach human interaction from a human perspective. Eliminate all this Imperial-Federation crap from this conversation.

“How about this? We’ll have a drink together when we return. And until then, let’s remember each other by something that isn’t nationality or heritage!” He said, looking at the three gents before him with glimmering eyes. “I’ll start. I study engineering at home before the war, loving cars and all sorts of automobiles. I also love my little home of three, so much so that I still cuddle my mama from time to time. No shame.”

Michael stated that with pretty much no embarrassment. He knew it might sound soft to a lot of people, but who cares. He doesn’t care. If one is willing to be petty about it, he’d pity their existence.

Elliot watched them all discuss the possibilities of drinking together. As far as he was concerned… when everyone’s in the muck of the trenches, it doesn’t matter what nation you were born in, what star you were born under, or what flag you were waving… in the end, everyone’s the same at either end of the rifle.

So while Emmerich expressed his concerns, Jakou, in turn, spoke of his doubts. Michael, ever the diplomat, decided to stop using races and heritage, even going as far as to offer up information about his personal life to break the tension, before turning to the others with bright, expectant eyes.

Elliot thought about this for a moment. No matter what, the possibility of one or all of them dying on this raid was ever-present. In that sense, there was no reason *not* to get along. Shrugging, Elliot stepped up to say his piece soon after Michael did.

“There’s not much to say about me. I joined the war to get away from my family, and yet… strangely enough, I’m here for their sake as well.” He said/ “...I don’t have many hobbies, but my father’s an engineer, and my brother’s a watchmaker, so technical stuff has rubbed off on me a bit, even if I’m not exactly educated on it properly.”

The words that came out of his mouth were strangely… rehearsed. Keeping things intentionally vague and riddled with half-truths was easier than maintaining a completely different cover story, in his experience. Any discrepancies could be explained through a slip of the tongue or a gap in memory-- it’s not like most strangers would know the ins-and-outs of it unless they knew where to look, anyway.

Still, there was truth in his words, as vague as it was, and Elliot was genuinely interested in what the others would say themselves. Thus, he stood in place, waiting for them to speak.

Emmerich listened to the others in silence as they spoke a bit more about themselves. Their words made Emmerich remember of the child he used to be, of the person he could have become... The fond memories he had of his time with his mother and even his father, before his mother died and he dedicated his body and his emotions solely to the war...

"Before the war, I was studying to be a physician, a surgeon, just like my mother, before she fell ill and died. She was a brilliant woman and a kind, attentive mother, despite her fragile health. My father, despite being rarely at home due to being a soldier was a good man. He used to take me to hunting trips, which I ended up getting a taste for and became my hobby as well. He blamed himself a lot for not being a present father and husband after my mother died." Emmerich said.

"It wasn't long until the war took him... Fought and bled to death by people who didn't even know his name. Alone, I wasn't able to continue my studies. The two years of mandatory military service offered me an alternative. Without much choice, I ended up pursuing a 'military carreer'..." He said with a sarcastic chuckle.

"Not much to say other than that. Saved a lot of lives with the knowledge I learned studying to be a physician. Ended just as many." he finished with a bitter smile.

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard [Pt. 2 - Open] ~

Still kicking around

RETRO Slice of Life - 1988

♔ Henry Koning ♚

_{Morning - Delta University -> Shogun Sushi}

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"That's a good one. I certainly wouldn't mind some good sashimi."

As someone with a bit of international travel, Henry knew quite a bit about other cultures and lifestyle. While he never had that opportunity to visit Japan, their culture wasn't exactly unpopular in the countries that he visited during his tournaments. If anything, he would not deny that their food, for some inexplicable reason, was always filling regardless of how small the portion looked like. His only guess was that it was so compacted with nutrients that it was so, unlike the fat-saturated American fast food.

As for Isabella, well there's not a lot to be particularly impressed or unimpressed yet. If anything she looked, or tried to look, more like a Broadway actress rather than an AI grad student. It was pretty, but it was a bit flashy. It might be because he grew up in a world full of often overly-serious people in front of a plastic board and wooden figures that Henry favored something more conservative. But hey, at least she wasn't that obsessive type only focused on whatever is in front of them. Perhaps she could teach him a bit about how to dance.

Regardless, Henry followed the girl on his own drive to Shogun Sushi. The somewhat heavy traffic was a perfect opportunity for the man to revisit some of his old games in his head. It was a lot more about being bored from it that made a person go insane from being stuck, and Henry was never one to let his mind go inactive for even a second. As a result, it wasn't so bad for him, and hey, he'd get there when he gets there. Nevertheless, he decided to be strategic about his parking, as he took a different turn away from Shogun Sushi into a parking lot close to a mall a few blocks down and walked up to the Sushi Shop. It was a bit faster, and he didn't mind the little walk. Entering Shogun Sushi, Isabella had already arrived a bit before he did, along with many hungry customers just like him. Some having really...interesting appearances.

"May I have the bento box please. Florida roll and salmon with the rice." He made his orders, and was then directed towards a table of his own, but he preferred to sit at Isabella's, since there were two chairs there and one was unused.

"You two together?" But the small request did raise the eyebrow in the waiter directing him. Well, that wasn't completely unexpected.

"Acquainted." He curtly shrugged, before turning over to Isabella. "If you don't mind."

@PrinceAlexus

RETRO Slice of Life - 1988

♔ Henry Koning ♚

_{Morning - Delta University}

---

Well, Mark certainly was a thoughtful guy with his moves. If any of his students were here, they would have made moves within less than 5 minutes then proceeded to blunder their queen and resign, if they had the shame to do so. That at least gave Henry some time to chatter around with this lady. He was honestly surprised that she knew his full name. He certainly was a household name for the Floridian chess community, but for a nation obsessed with physical sports like baseball, he was just a stranger. The only reason it made some sense here was this professor Jones she mentioned. A professor he had a semester ago, and an actual chess enthusiast, they had some interesting games with each other once he found out the Floridian state champion was in his class.

"Oh, Professor Jones. I know he'll be like that. The man is an interesting specimen." When Isabella, as she introduced herself as, mentioned his proposal, he knew exactly what she was talking about. But really? She didn't know about this but he did? Perhaps the old man was a wizard after all. Well, Henry wouldn't be a prick about it, but he had to finish this game first.

Right now, Mark was just cocooning. All his pieces were either undeveloped or surrounding the king for the defense, while all but one of Henry's pieces were involved and ready for the kill. He could simply initiate a massive piece trade, get all the pieces off the board, and by the end of it, he'd be completely winning with an unstoppable discovery check to grab whatever the most valuable piece Mark still had. In a normal tournament, Henry wouldn't hesitate to go for it, as he was more in favor of a conservative technical playstyle. But today, he was feeling artsy. He wanted to create something cool. There has got to be a knockout punch here. Yes...

It started with a rook sacrifice in order to bring in the last inactive piece into the game. Then the bishop jumped into the fray, forcing Mark's knight to take lest he lose the queen. But it wouldn't stop anything. It was mate in 2, with a queen sacrifice, deflecting the knight into a rook checkmate, supported by the other bishop. All his pieces were involved in the game with incredible harmony. If any doubts on Henry's capabilities as a player were still lingering, these last 4 moves would be a good dissolver of that.

The Delta undergrad reached for his pocket for a bill, put it inbetween his fingers and reached over the table to Mark for a courtesy handshake. Impressed, Mark returned the handshake and took the bill. Now, he was ready for a talk with Isabella.

"Well, it's a set up if you're looking for one." Henry briefly replied before putting his stuffs back into his bag. "Anyway, for that 'proposed something' that Professor Jones said, it's something he asked me for help with. To put it shortly, he wanted a program that could play chess."

Usually they'd probably have grandmasters be involved since they'd be more qualified, but he figured that it was much cheaper, since he was studying here. Well, it was fine for him either ways. A good way to meet some really fine intelligent folks.

"I'm going to head off for some lunch." Henry said, as he packed up his stuffs "If you're interested, we can talk on the way, or..." He held out a small piece of paper, containing an array of numbers. "...give me a call."
@PrinceAlexus

RETRO Slice of Life - 1988

♔ Henry Koning ♚

_{Morning - Delta University}

---

Henry didn't have class today, but he was going to Delta University anyway. The assembly language assignment that would be due next class proved a bit too difficult for Henry to untangle. He could understand the basics like registers or bits, but how they operate in practice was hard to grasp. Luckily, his classmate introduced him to this guy, Mark, who apparently was studying PhD in Computer Science, who was willing to give Henry some tutelage; for a fee because of course. Nothing really comes for free. However, to his surprise, guy also realized the name Henry Koning. It turned out that the guy also played chess, though with mostly chess hustlers in these public areas. Mark didn't really follow chess news, but remembered Henry's name from a news article a while ago due to his unique surname. Guy offered a game and if Henry won, he'd cut the tuition fee in half for him. It wasn't much to begin with but it was still a half cut, and if Henry knew anything from his years living with mom in her van, those extra cents saved could mean that extra large burger or that salmon sashimi dish from Shogun Sushi. He'd drool when he thought about it. Maybe he should pay that restaurant a visit again today, now that it was awarded 2 Michelin Stars. They never disappoint.

Henry eventually arrived on campus dressed as casuals go in a light blue polo shirt, brown khakis and 1980s Adidas sneakers. He parked his 1986 Oldsmobile Cutlass Salon in his usual parking lot in front of the Applied Science building of the campus. He met Mark at the agreed upon location, and they both sat down by a table in the studying area of the campus. For the next half an hour, he went through all the problems that Henry had with the assignment, or just assembly language in general, and explained them once again but this time a LOT more concisely than his professor. Truth be told, Henry kinda wished Mark was his professor, but that was neither here nor there. Gradually, Henry felt capable enough to tackle the assignment. At least now he had some sort of directions as well as tools to untangle the problem.

"Are you doing it now?" Mark asked, as Henry made himself comfortable in his study area, in that section of the building where undergrads never really had a reason to go there.

"Mhm." Henry simply nodded. "You wanna play?"

"Ye, but if you wanna focus-"

"We can play now too. I certainly don't mind." Henry replied, not needing the kind offer he was given. He was used to brain splitting already from his experience playing chess simuls, so only 1 game and his assignment wasn't that big of a deal.

And from what it turned out, it wasn't that big of a deal after all, as Mark showed on move 3 with a very subpar move. Henry didn't even hesitate to take advantage of it, both game-wise and time-wise. For the several curious onlookers nearby, both players were having their hands on their cheeks, seemingly having an intense intellectual battle over the 64 squares, but in reality only one was having that, the other was just writing his assignment. It didn't take a genius to know who was the superior player here, with one side taking his sweet time to think and analyze, while the other barely even glanced at the board before he made his move. Did he even think at all, or was he that fast in seeing all the possible calculations?

Thanks to having no time control, Henry was able to finish his assignment before the game ends. By the time he did, there were already a couple of onlookers around the chess board. The two sides were relatively equal on material, but Mark's pieces were quite tied up, while all of Henry's were active and developed. As a result, it was difficult for the former to make any sort of good move, while the latter was just chilling, grabbing a cup of tea and a Gulf Gabs copy in the meantime. He gotta admit, as trash as their news reporting were, they sure made them appealing to read with the commentary.

RETRO Slice of Life - 1988

♔ Henry Koning ♚

+

Name: Henry "Harry" Koning
Age: 22
Appearance:

Hair looks like actor's picture

Height: 5'8
Weight: 164 lbs

Likes:
• Chess
• Puzzle games
• Watching sports, especially football + baseball
• Travelling
• A healthy work life balance

Dislikes:
• Impatience
• Unnecessary mistakes
• Addictive substances
• Improper/Unsportsmanlike behavior

Zodiac Sign: Pisces (He doesn't believe in this)

Special Talent:
Chess: Being co-champion in the US Championship, and positive performance in international tournaments, Henry's chess talent cannot be dismissed. This translate to a variety of more general skills like memorization, visualization, pattern recognition as well as maintaining calmness in most situations.

Profession: Titled chess player. Chess coach at Delta Chess Club. Undergraduate Computer Science and Mathematics at Delta University.

Personality:
Generally a pretty chill person, Henry does not get angry quickly, nor does he express his emotions in outbursts, though he does tend to let out how he feels in a calm yet blunt way. In normal times, he tends to be pretty laid-back, and thanks to the money he raked from tournaments, chess coach and events, he could afford to enjoy the spectacles of life that he misses when he's focused on competitive chess, learn new things that he doesn't get to learn often. Without him stating it, or the sight of him playing in clubs/universities/on the streets with random people, you'd never guess he's a professional chess player. Nonetheless, Henry is still a very competitive person at his core. He treats every loss seriously and every mistake he makes both in chess and in real life critically, while victories are well-deserved and something to be proud of. He does not have any qualm to tolerate crap when it comes to the things he love, and he's more than willing to shove them back at the offenders in his trademark brutal honesty.

Bio:
Henry was born in 1966 in Florida to a family of Dutch refugees to the United States due to World War 2. His mother, Alida, had rough times trying to get by in the new living environment, and by the time of Henry's birth, she was homeless, separated (and later divorced) from her husband, and was forced to live in a van, shuttled to do different jobs to feed herself and Henry. Young Henry did not have formal elementary education, but to him it was his mother's van, where she taught him basic subjects like math, English, etc. When he was old enough to go to middle school, however, Alida had found a stable enough job and settled in a cheap run-down apartment, and he enrolled in the local Floridian middle school, where he discovered his future career as a chess player.

The chess genius Bobby Fischer who singlehandedly beaten the Soviet chess machine and dethroned Boris Spassky in 1972 inspired a wave of chess popularities in schools across the United States, including Henry's middle school with a small but cozy group of friends and teachers with interests in the game. There, Henry began to display his aptitude for the game, defeating all his peers easily after a few weeks of learning. One of the teachers then introduced him to a chess simul in Texas with a chess master and former national champion. Henry played and held his positions for over 40 moves, drawing crowds of onlookers, before being beaten. His performance, however, got people's attention, and he was introduced to attend the Florida Chess Club where he was coached properly by chess professionals. He gradually developed a solid and conservative playstyle that is difficult to crack open but often leads to draw positions.

Attending a Florida high school, Henry won two state championship in 1980 and 1981. His first brush with the US champion came in 1982, where the intimidation of going on the big league led to a less than stellar performance. By the time of his high school graduation, he surpassed the FIDE rating of 2300. In the same year, he redeemed his previous year's performance by becoming the US co-champion, losing only to the previous year's candidate.

After high school, Henry hesitated on going further into college and instead spent his next few years trying to improve his and his mother's living conditions. They moved to Delta City, and using his chess talent and riding on what's left of the chess boom left from Fischer's time, Henry coached young chess players as well as participating in chess events in multiple states for money. During this time, he also participated in multiple international chess tournaments, including one in Paris and in Latvia, finishing 9th and 4th place respectively. All these efforts secured him a fairly stable middleclass lifestyle at Delta.

Recent History:
After earning 2 norms for his performance in Paris and Latvia, Henry decided to wait a bit before going for his third norm, thus securing his International Master title. He wanted to settle down, enjoy life a bit since turning his life around and finish his university education. He's currently 2nd year undergraduate in Computer Science, minor Mathematics at Delta University.

Actor or Actress/Public Figure who would play your Character in a movie:

Tobey Maguire

Myself

Tell us about yourself:

*Your age: 21

*What part of the world are you from?
International Student from Vietnam to Vancouver Canada

*How many years have you been writing/roleplaying?
Since 2017 so 4 years

*How often do you have time to post?
If I push for it, once a day. I will sit a lot on public transit and does allow some time to just sit there and craft a post.

*Anything else you want to mention? What you do for a living? How much do you work a week? What do you enjoy doing besides writing? Put as much as you want.
I just got internship as an IT Technician, and will be working 40 hours a week. I also do game supertest for the game World of Warships. I like to play chess casually and also take a long walk in the park (more like forest) near my house.

"These are the things that make a good story great and good writers even greater."

Player Interaction Scale

3.5