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6 yrs ago
Current Why am I bothering to update the status anyway? No one's gonna care
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6 yrs ago
"Remember to look at the stars not down at your feet." Inspired me ever since. Rest in peace Professor Hawking
7 yrs ago
I don't know why, but the boredom is killing me slowly
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In Avalia 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

In Avalia 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

In Avalia 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Hmm, I've been eyeing this since last time. Can I join in the fun this time around?


He didn't expect such a violent response from the Duke. He stumbled into the man whom asked him for help, but unlike the pancake this morning nor the ball yesterday night, neither John and the nobleman fell, only thrown off-balance for a moment. Hearing the pouring vomit of obnoxious self-righteousness at the doctor at his request, the nobleman got visibly angry, but the Varian doctor simply raised both his hands at the man, wordlessly letting him know that he got this. It was not a simple appeal to non-violence to the man though. His countenance were very firm, and it seemed to deescalate him quite fast.

Turning around to Lorenzo, John didn't respond at first, preferring to readjust his attire neatly first. All the while, he looked upon the duke with his head leaned slightly forward, his eyes looking upward at Lorenzo. Not a shameful bow of guilt, but rather shaming the duke back like a disappointed father to his son, a teacher to their student. He's the Duke of Vermillion, he governed vast lands, riches and people. And yet he's acting like a complete buffoon comparing to this peasant doctor in front of him, who is just trying to help someone on demand. Given, he has not been exactly in good mental state since yesterday, and John was quite sympathetic seeing Charlotte's father like that. But that didn't grant the duke any excuse of not knowing any better.

"Duke Vikena." John finally spoke after the adjustment. "I'm certain there is a misunderstanding. This gentleman here asked for my expertise. I was told she passed out all of a sudden."

John maintained a cordial smile as he explained, both his hands in front of him with full intention to deescalate, but his tone wasn't sentimental nor soft. "Thus, it's purely a checkup. It could be dangerous unattended, but as of now, you are obstructing me from doing my job."

It was authoritative. Calm, strict and commanding. Cold even...

@FunnyGuy@SausagePat
Irian Sinewell


A band of raiders. Irian had seen them briefly despite his relatively shorter stay thus far in the Lions, but he hadn't interacted with them much at all yet, or having known about the leader much as well aside from random hearsay. Judging from looks alone, Istvan - the apparent leader - and the band, it looked like they fit that kind of strategy the large man was proposing: rough-looking. It looked normal that these individuals would like a pillage trip, and would run the moment they meet any real resistance. And it's free help, the elf couldn't ask for more.

"Aye, ten steps from around the treeline shall be your safezone." Irian responded, giving Istvan a two-fingered salute, before heading off to prepare himself for battle.

Upon his first duty in the Lions involved using a heavier, more armored but clunkier attire composed of half-metal, he was a little out of the element when it comes to more mobile tasks, but eventually he got used to the weight, and now, as he observed into the plain before him, his feet nicely tucked and positioned in harmonic balance on the tree, his bow and arrow at the ready. But his arms were relaxed, knowing that the battle likely had yet to begin, and it would be gradual. And while his work was still quite important, he needed not be on post for all eternity.

Especially when his stomach was still growling.

He ain't gonna lie, Irian had a secret distaste for Veltian cuisine. Especially and very unfortunately the elven cuisine that his people liked to serve were also quite shite. Bland and uninteresting. But where he is from, it tends to be quite cheap and sometimes free, so he couldn't really complain but to soldier on. But he would relish in anything that would entice his taste, and for here today would be the cuisine from the Nem merchant. Traditional and authentic apparently. It was good, and he wanted a bit more. Just a bit more.

Dropping down from the tree with a thud, Irian landed gracefully with both feet, dusted himself off and approached the Nem again. "Well, then your holiness Lirrah. May I have a second serving?" He said, having heard the Nem's proclaiming. His tone was casual but dry, quite a sign that he was being sarcastic, but who could knew for sure, knowing how serious he had been thus far.

@Octo


The inherent degeneracy of the two individuals trying to argue over some rudimentary nonsense about hats in the middle of a theatre play was not ignored by the theatre occupants. Many who recognized the all too familiar ferret-faced duke had their eyes rolled all the way to the back of their skulls, cursing to whatever gods or religion why they would put them in the same theatre as the Duke of fucking Vikena. Others close by were visibly uncomfortable, staying mostly quiet so as not to tarnish their names and reputation. However, the commotions seem to suddenly die down as the lady simply just leaned back on her chair and went completely quiet. Just out of nowhere, quiet.

The Duke's lukewarm response combined with him putting his fingers on Ruby's neck made one man sitting on the other end of her suspicious. While he seemed calm afterwards, it is the Duke of Vikena. One has to check twice on him to make sure he sees correctly. And upon shaking Ruby's body several times without response, the man stood up hastily, almost tripping on the seat next to him and hurried outside. She wasn't well!

John's strolling did help his exhaustion a little bit. Hopefully things would unwrap itself more after all the debacle the day before. This was supposed to be more of a relaxed assignment after all, even with the sudden responsibility plopped onto his shoulders. He also got to enjoy some of the stuff he actually missed from Caesonia. The food, the view, and people that still remembered him as the son of an innkeeper rather than Dr. John Harling Williamson.

"John, let me just say that if Prince Wulfric or the King found out about your return, they will not be happy."

A man a head shorter than John's walked with careful stride, his aging time warned him of the inevitability. John considerately paced himself to match his steps, and with a chuckle he replied. "Not this time around, Mr. Anderson. I'm their guest. Or part of them."

"Wait..." He raised a finger, confused. "How? I thought you were..."

"I'm a royal physician. They can't refuse me." John said with some pride. "But I met them too, I don't think they even remember me." Probably too used to execute or punish their dissidents already, they couldn't remember the face of those they sent to certain doom.

"Royal Physician..." The older man - the teacher, his first mentor, the man who set the foundation to John's success - stood in awe, eyeing the man over in disbelief, before being corrected by John who realized he didn't specify it was Varian physician, not Caesonian. But still, from a dead man walking to one of the crucial backbones of a kingdom is an astonishing turnaround. "It must have been a tough journey. I'm proud of the man you have become, John."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Anderson." John gave a deep bow upon hearing. "I couldn't be here without you. If there's anything I can do in return, always let me know. A new house? Some money? Or even immigration to Varian, I can always sponsor."

"Haha, I'm good, thank you." Anderson gave a hearty grandfatherly laugh. "My wife and I are good where they are. We are away from the limelight completely, just doing our day job, minding our business. We can go home to die the next day and it would not be a regretful life. No need for glamour or a new home."

Probably for the best too. John let out a faint smile, knowing that his empathy for that statement felt a little bit chilly, for the man was barely over his prime youth, and yet he was yearning for that kind of life. Just minding his business, ready to die a peaceful death if it came to it. What happened exactly to him, very few were aware. The doctor kept it quite secretive as well.

"Anyway, it was nice to meet you John. You know where to find me if you're down for a chat." Anderson gave John a wave before heading off on his own, the doctor stopping in his track, watching him from behind.

"Have a great day..." John serenely waved back. With a satisfied smile, he moved on, looking for more things to reminisce.

Not for long! Duty calls once again. Not of an official capacity, but out of his own volition. A man burst out of the Edin Theatre shouted for a doctor, any doctor. He would look somewhat like a madman if one wouldn't take a plea for one seriously. Hearing the plight, John came over to answer the man. Judging from the ravish looks, nobility was written all over his body, and of course he spoke in flowery language that described nothing of importance. Much that was filtered would be that this lady just dropped to her chair, not responsive. Not exactly promising, but such vagueness of the situation could mean anything.

John quickly hurried into the theatre, past the curious theatregoers, approaching the seats of the patient in question. John slowly recognizing both these individuals. It's that pancake girl this morning, and the Duke of Vikena. The doctor didn't greet the Duke much, however, only an acknowledging nod if he even paid attention. His countenance faced the petite freckled girl. He knelt by her, putting his fingers on her neck.

'Still pulses, good.'

John quickly went through the mental checklist in his head. Next, he would shake Ruby by the shoulder a little, before tapping on her cheeks, more forceful with each tap, hoping she would awake from outside forces.

@SausagePat@FunnyGuy
-- Oops, double post --
Steffen Gravinir


Steffen tapped on his knee a few times as the conversation winded down, occasionally glancing to Tyaethe to see her seemingly deep in thoughts. He would try to think up of something else to say about Merilia, but that was pretty much the extent of his knowledge about her. She did come up in the dream he had this morning for encouragement, but he felt it would be too weird to bring up all of a sudden.

A few little birds, brown cute little sparrows, landed on the stone walkway in front of both of them. Steffen tilted his head and picked up some seeds from his pocket, letting them fly over onto his palm. With a tickle, the sparrows stood and pecked the seeds. He could hear the squeaks that they made that lightened up the garden every day. If he wasn't wrong, this was the one who would actually wake up late but would tweet all day without exhaustion. It took a little bit for him to earn its trust, but it was worth it.

"Anyway, is there anything else you need to discuss? Or you're just chatting?" Steffen turned to ask, the sparrows flying off once they were done. "I'll head off to the training later if you want to see me."

@Raineh Daze
Same, I don't mind moving on
Steffen Gravinir


The joke was taken a little seriously, he thought. But a reminder here and there of the prestige wouldn't hurt. Besides, it's Dame Tyaethe, the First and Youngest, the serious, no-nonsense founder of the Iron Rose. If there were anyone who would want to keep the knight's image proper, in this case for a good reason too. Steffen simply just let the matter fade away naturally.

As the issue, or so it seemed, about Merilia returned to the picture frame, Steffen began to stagger in the amount of information to process. "There has been talks about Merilia, yes, since the painting came over." He said, scratching his chin. "But I don't think I hear anything about rabbits?" When Tyaethe mentioned Akitsushima and Merilia's concubines, his mind defaulted over to those far eastern princesses that he had heard from the collection of Vos Korvungaand tales, it reminded him a lot of the Hundis. He had never seen them in person before though, so if one were really going to show up this week, he'd be willing to greet them. Both out of curiosity as well as empathy that a foreign person likely knowing little of the local language would be quite a scary prospect. He had been through that before.

"She has her charm, but you have a point." Trying to steer clear of Tyaethe's statement of her popularity as much as possible, Steffen simply nodded. "I'll keep my eyes open. If there's any lost rabbit or anything on discussion, I will certainly let you in on it." A small smile turned up on him. "I'm sure it's not that serious."

@Raineh Daze
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