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    1. Jinxer 10 yrs ago

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9 yrs ago
Currently living inside Life is Strange.
9 yrs ago
I'm baaaaaaaaaaaack.

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Julius 'Jules' Ragnarson
The Erubescan Citadel


Boredom was a frequent and troublesome visitor to Julius' world, only ever one step behind his most recent task and harrying him onwards. His drive had slowed ever since his amibition, or rather that which he had inherited from his father, had been realised and it had become a daily task to fend off the depressing slowness of life and to seek new challenges.

That was largely why he had agreed to attend this meeting, to raise funding supposedly. His initial interest had been borne out of a lack of more attention grabbing activities but he was becoming more intrigued by the goal of this project as time went by. Would this be something with which he could stave off his own lack of direction? It would be a largely unfamiliar discipline, he was sure, but as with most such academics he would not struggle for long.


"We should accompany you in, young-" He rolled his eyes, tapping the marbled floor twice with his cane.

"No, you should not Harold. You may take your band of enthusiastic young men back now, it has been over twelve years since the attack. I should hope that your nerve has recovered by now." He waved away further complaints from the now wizened leader of his family's guards, a man who had served his father faithfully for decades and whom Julius has known his entire life. "I am quite sure that SPECTRE will be capable of protecting me, should the need arise. Take the day off, old friend. Perhaps entertain my old father, he is need of a good company from a trusted friend." Harold winced, an acknowledgement of the state of his former employer, but he nodded reluctantly and led the team of men away leaving Julius alone to enter the Citadel proper.

He wandered leisurely, already a little behind time but these meetings had a tendency to start late as it were; late attendance was always planned for. His feet took him in the right direction, a map of the hallways of the Citadel fresher in his mind than they were in any database, until he stood outside the open doors to the meeting hall. As expected, his tardiness would not be an impediment to his understanding of the subject; indeed, it did not appear that they had begun.

Julius entered, nodding a polite greeting to two men he recognised as the Lords Durmont and Santora although they had little reason to know who he was, their paths not as of yet crossing. Other faces he had seen before, in the news or in passing he recognised but they not personally familiar to him. He smiled warmly, introducing himself individually as he made his way around the room in search of a suitable seat. He soon approached the alchemist who looked to be leading the meeting and names flashed through his head before the right one settled, although he did not recall a time they had actually met.

"Ah, Cordelia. A pleasure to meet you at last. I've been following some of your work, fascinating, I must say. I look forward to hearing what you have to present to us today." He finally took a seat, an appropriate number of chairs away from the two young lords, and rested his hands atop his stick while waiting for the meeting to begin.

It was such an odd assortment of individuals... whatever the young alchemist had planned it would surely be sufficient to keep him entertained for a time.
@EchoicChamber

My thanks! I shall move it over the to the Characters tab and peruse the IC before I post.
@EchoicChamber I apologise for my tardiness. I hope this is up to standard - the history is a little vague, I acknowledge, but I was unsure of what specifics in the world to include so I kept it flexible!

@EchoicChamber Apologies for the slowness - I apparently have the in-laws visiting this weekend so haven't finished off my sheet. Any downtime I have tomorrow at work I'll put into it but I'll have it up by Monday at the latest!
@EchoicChamber

Wonderful! I shall start on a sheet tomorrow when I can give it my fullest attention.
I find the idea very interesting and, as Durnehviir said, the intense detail is very much appreciated.

My immediate idea would be for a young, by which I mean mid to late twenties, Chancellor (or even Grand Chancellor) in Erubesco whose Gift would be a Sound Manipulation (with which he can largely only use to eavesdrop on others with). He would be mild in nature but highly intellectual (and unwittingly snobbish about it) and would use this as a justification for both his role and actions (even though his heritage would of course have influenced his position more).

That is only my first thought and if it does not fit into any plan you may have I will have another, and possibly multiple, further thoughts!


She breathed out heavily as the Father left, his gaze lingering briefly on her before he left. Tension, pent up in her body, faded and left her feeling exhausted with a fresh headache pounding its way from side to side inside her skull. At a moment's notice she would have been ready to leap up and push Eve out of the door, had the Father proved violent, but the man was in much more control of himself than the murderous air he had been generating had suggested. Perhaps it was because she saw him through the lens of, oft exaggerated, tales about the Luthrans and their cut-throat nature, coupled with her current sense of weakness, but she had felt sure that at least one person in the room would not be leaving alive.

Her gaze drifted back to Dalious, pushed back to the bed bodily by his leader, and eyed the wound at his side. Now that she could see the dressings, she saw that her suspicion had been correct and that, although the Father had not lived up to the Luthran reputation, some Dalious' fellows had not taken his intervention lightly.

"If I owed you anything before, we're now even." She grunted, nausea rocking through her but she ignored it and turned to Eve. She could see the concern in her friend's face but she could see the disapproval there also, her risky actions in saving the pirate not winning any admiration from the Princess. Now, however, was not the time to try and explain the responsibility she had felt although it was certainly the time for an apology. "I'm sorry, Princess. I did not mean to make an inappropriate request of you but I was worried for your safety..." She trailed off, knowing that the direction she was taking would hardly fend off Eve's temper at all. How hard it was to carry out one's duties properly while still being a friend! On the surface the task seemed one and the same and indeed, in many ways, it was but the method was so different that it frustrated her efforts and everything felt awkward and buried under formality between them.

The matter with Eve was something that she would resolve later, when they had a private moment. It would, perhaps, be an idea to plan how they acted around one another with so many unfamiliar ears surrounding them. Coming here to Exodus without any agreement in place was fraying her nerves and, she sensed, getting in the way of their friendship as were all of the new, foreign experiences forming around them. Suddenly, Laurel felt a burning moment of jealousy as the healer, having woken up in shock, gave out her orders to the two wounded and then smiled at her. She was grateful to the woman who had gone some way to allaying her concerns about the Freyjan people but the way Eve responded to her made her feel uncomfortable, like she herself had suddenly fallen into shade and had been forgotten. She was a guard here, though, and nothing more so surely it was only reasonable for that to happen? The feelings, along with the pounding of her head and the accompanying weakness it inflicted on the rest of her body, were competing too much for her attention and she had to fight to think properly.

"Thank you, for your ministrations." Laurel gingerly felt the stitches, wincing at the touch but she had to acknowledge that the Freyjan had done a good job, better than she could have done herself. With an effort she lifted herself slowly off the bed to stand, shooting a look at Eve as the Princess instinctively moved to help her; they both knew that it was not normal for a royal to assist their guard so much. "I will be most careful, Princess. I feel strong enough to depart, I do not want to keep you or the Princess from the festival any longer." She bowed to Thyrri stiffly, her wound shouting in anger at the movement, before walking from the room as confidently as she dared.

It was only outside of the room that she realised she was still lacking her proper attire, the bow delivered back to Eve's quarters and her leathers left outside the spa and presumably sent the same way. The robe she was currently wrapped in was certainly not appropriate for rejoining the festival but she also did not want to leave Eve alone, even if she herself was no longer in any real position to protect her.

"I might need to change, before we go." She said to Eve in a low voice, once they were out of earshot of the others, gesturing at her clothes. "Your father won't be pleased I was injured, I can't be bringing any more shame on Earthica or else he'll have my head.





Erasmi Andora

@Raylah


The battle down in the arena drew to a close with a final, titanic clash before the Earthican warrior was crowned the champion. From the corner of his eye Erasmi could see the pleasure on the face of the man's king and allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. He respect their strength as warriors, it was not something that could be denied after all, and he respected the ruthlessness of the Luthran people which carried them through to that grand finale but they were all fools, unused to the machinations of a proper kingdom like Exodus or Primfia. Too few in number to understand politics and schemes, they had seen the tournament merely as what it was presented as and thrown their all into it.

Still, it had surprise Erasmi that so many Exodus warriors had taken part, even if there was barely a veteran to be seen on the field. He wondered whether he should have thrown some more of his men into the ring but chastised himself as soon as the thought began to take hold; second-guessing past actions was a fruitless and wasteful activity. For now, he would ignore the 'shame' his kingdom's loss in the tournament would bring and move forwards. He had never expected anything more, having only committed some of the green-behind-the-ears warriors onto the field to gain some experience; his real warriors had watched from amongst the crowd, learning and eyeing up potential threats as he had ordered them to. Information was power, after all.

He rose, bowing farewell to the Exodus monarchs and then gazed across the crowd. She would be hear, somewhere, he knew, but he would never see her. That was why she was so good at what she did and now he had a task for her, something she might actually enjoy after the miserably boring job of infiltrating the royal household. With that useful groundwork laid he had so many options available to him and plans and schemes layered in his mind, one atop another before the more fanciful being dismissed.

His signal given, Erasmi left the royal box and headed back to the carriages, some of his guard falling into line protectively around him but he left them at the entrance to the stables and walked inside. There was silence except for the sounds of resting horses but he knew as he headed to his carriage that he was not alone.

"Aziza." He called, confident that she would be nearby.

It was time to end her boredom, time to set things moving.
@Aamaya@Raylah

Oh dear, I’m going to end up making him creepy now, I feel. Villain material, right here.


With fuddled memories, Laurel slowly came to. She was not sure whether she had truly passed out or merely become so concussed by her injury, and the ensuing blood loss, that her mind had fallen into a temporary state of inattentiveness. Either way, it was dangerous and a foolish error on her part, being surrounded by potential enemies in a foreign kingdom when she was supposed to be responsible for a high ranking official’s safety.

On instinct she attempted to sit but firm hands pushed her back to the bed. Her mind cleared and she recognised the face of the Freyjan Princess, Thyrri, the one whom Eve seemed to have brefriended.

“I am sorry, but you really need to stay in bed for at least a few hours. If you get up, you might faint again and injure yourself even harder. I will let princess Evangeline know where you are.”

With reluctance she yielded to the healer’s instructions and did not attempt to rise again, instead mumbling a thank you although it came out so quietly and hoarsely she could not be sure Thyrri heard, especially as the woman seemed exhausted and soon fell asleep in a chair set against the wall. Before she did, she checked on the other patient in the room whom Laurel had not noticed in her dim-witted state. With surprise she recognised the face, and clothing, of the Lutheran warrior who had struck down his comrades while protecting her. His face was abnormally pale and she could hear how faint his breaths were, indicating he was severely injured. She wondered who had inflicted such harm on the talented warrior but her thoughts were interrupted by Eve who had swept into the room, now wearing the dress she had spurned earlier.

If she were more alert, Laurel might have been more surprised by the Princess’s sudden change in heart with regards the vestment but she had grown accustomed to Eve’s rapid changes of heart over the years. She was not so inconsiderate to be called whimsical but she often acted before thinking and often found herself regretting her words or actions, working backward to correct her mistakes after the fact. It was a sometimes frustrating trait her friend possessed but it made her all the more interesting and attractive, at least in Laurel’s eyes.

"Hey...", the princess whispered, fingers caressing the back of Laurel’s hand, "are you okay?" There was guilt that did not belong in Eve’s eyes, roaming over Laurel’s face and darting to the stitched wound on her head. "I did not want this to happen... I should have said something, done something, stopped you -" Laurel shook her head but her mind was still foggy and the words she wanted to say formulated slowly in her head. "I am sorry."

With an effort she clasped Eve’s hand, the gentle touch igniting emotions she was in no fit state to examine and understand and, at times, made her feel uncomfortable. Focusing as much as she could she stared into Eve’s eyes.

“You’re not to blame at all, Eve.” The words, though simple, felt heavy in her mouth but with every effort she felt some small sense of normality returning to her body; she had always found that ‘resting’ made her feel sluggish. Movement was her natural state of being. “I gave my name out without thinking and this is the consequence of that. At least I can still carry out my duties. None of this is your fault, we both have things expected of us here.”

She stopped as a huge, mountainous man entered the room. Levonian people were not small but this man made Laurel feel so, his size and presence a weight on her body with every instinct she had screaming that this man was dangerous. His eyes had a threatening stare to them and she could almost smell the bloodlust and rage rolling off of him as he saw the wounded Thanatos warrior laying in the room. Disappointment was reflected in his posture when he noticed them, the man becoming more guarded as he approached the resting man of his kingdom.

"A pity."

Laurel forced herself up despite the banging raging inside her head and the shocks of pain the movement sent shooting through her body. Hiding it as best she could, she looked to Eve. Her protective nature wanted to send her away, knowing that this man was here with murder in his mind but the part of her that was slowly coming to, the quick-witted young woman who had become used to politics despite her distaste for them through her friendship with the princess, told her that having two princesses in the room would be enough to thwart this man’s intentions.

Although her memory was dim she had finally identified him by reputation as the Father and pieces of the puzzle began to fall in place. The potentially fatal wound that had been inflicted on the Thanatos warrior, his actions on the battlefield, Luthra’s reputation as an unforgiving people and the Father’s presence all drew her to a conclusion that, by protecting her, the warrior had condemned himself to a quiet and discrete murder by his own people.

“You should be grateful to him, you know.” Lacking the energy, she found herself forgetting the deference which she should be showing toward the Father but he was not truly royalty so it was not a proper grievance or lapse. Her mind was too preoccupied, racing to keep ahead of her mouth as a desperate, and pathetic sounding, solution crystallised in her thoughts. ”Your other warriors apparently forgot the rule about not aiming for the head. Luckily he stopped them before they could break the rules and cause an incident.” She pointed to her own head wound. “Now it’s just the Exodus lot who’ve broken their own rules and you’re in the clear. To me it looks like judgement has already been rendered but not enough to demand uncomfortable questions.” Laurel looked pointedly at the almost still figure of the Thanatos warrior, totally in the Father’s shadow.

”I’d like to thank him, once he wakes up, even if his attention was misguided.”

Her mind strayed a little, vague memories of her short loss of control returning and seeing the shocked face of the man, a boy really, who had inflicted the injury which weakened her so upon her. She doubted that he had meant to do so, probably lacking in experience and forgetting what little training he had in the heat of the contest. Later she would need to find him and make sure he was not executed for his mistake but for now she forced herself back to the present.

“Princess,” she spoke to Eve, using her friend’s title now that they were in the presence of strangers, “could you send someone to find the warrior who hit me? I want to speak with him, before he is punished. This was only meant to be a friendly contest, after all.”

She felt exhausted, knowing that she had overstepped her bounds as a mere bodyguard and warrior but she would regret feeling that she had done nothing to protect others in front of her. Perhaps she had the wrong sense of affairs but she thought that this entire festival was meant to bring peace and build alliances and, although it was above her station to think she could impact anything, she wanted to at least make sure she did not cause that well meaning intention to be turned on its head and start unnecessary bloodletting.
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