mnkee

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Roleplay: Soulless Regency
Date of post: January 13, 2017
Character: Fyror Gallant Kildragon

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Location: Wyndham Estate near Hyde Park (Out front)

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Fyror listened to Jeanette and Virginia’s conversation in thoughtful silence. They both seemed to share to some degree his concern for the sudden appearance of a Soulless within the confines of London. At the mention of the event at Almacks tonight, his mind immediately went back to his family. He had a sinking feeling that despite the extra precautions put into place, Almacks would not be any safer. His heart constricted at the thought of his whole family being there. Some of the other officers from Colchester Garrison would be there as well. Fyror knew he must inform them upon their arrival of the present danger posed by the invading Soulless. If the threat increases, it may be beneficial for more of the regiment to be brought into London and to do a thorough sweep of the city. He hoped it wouldn’t be necessary, but he was open to the possibility. He would do almost anything to keep people safe.

Fyror’s brows furrowed slightly at the remark that both Jeanette and Virginia had nightmares recently. A small shiver went down his spine as he briefly recalled his own nightmare. Was it simply a coincidence that they all had nightmares around the same time? Or was it an omen of something terrible to come? He was pulled from his thoughts when Jeanette introduced him to Virginia. A genuine smile graced his lips once more. “The pleasure’s all mine, miss,” he replied politely in response to Virginia as he inclined his head. He found her quite peculiar, but nevertheless he would treat her with respect. Surely, she didn’t find enjoyment in pain and suffering?

His gaze shifted to Millicent Wyndham as she exited the manor and approached them. He respectfully inclined his head in greeting, but she hadn’t seemed to notice him yet. His eyes roamed the soft contours of her face as she addressed Jeanette. He quickly noticed the mark that marred her beautiful face. He could make out the shape of a handprint underneath a layer of powder, likely used to camouflage it. His gaze became more intense, almost piercing, as anger filled him. How dare someone strike a woman?! If I catch the culprit, I swear I will give them a piece of my mind!

It took a moment for Fyror’s gaze to soften when Millicent turned to acknowledge his presence. He vaguely hoped she had not caught sight of him seemingly glaring in her direction. He did not wish to give her the wrong idea. He maintained steady eye contact with her as she spoke. Her offer to further discuss the situation in Hyde Park was tempting, but he was adamant to accompany Jeanette to the church as planned. “I am afraid that I must decline the offer. I wish to accompany Ms. Crane to the nearby church to ensure she gets there safely. There could be more Soulless in London, so one can never be too careful. Thereafter I must return to my family. My brother is currently watching over my mother and sister,” Fyror replied apologetically. “I will be at Almacks tonight with my family. Perhaps we will meet again there.”

Fyror heard movement behind him, alerting him to the presence of another. He spun on his heels, and his hand once more went instinctively to the hilt of his sword. His face fell when he saw a man holding the dead body of the Cargast’s latest victim.

mnkee's post archive

Roleplay: Soulless Regency
Date of post: January 9, 2017
Character: Fyror Gallant Kildragon

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Location: Hyde Park --> Wyndham Estate

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Fyror easily caught up to Jeanette as she hurried out of Hyde Park at a sprint. He matched her pace as he came up alongside her. They then spent the next several minutes running next to each other in a relatively comfortable silence. Relatively is the operative word as he was well aware that more Soulless could be nearby, watching and waiting for an opportune moment to strike. If a Cargast could successfully breach Jericho’s Barricade, he had no doubt that other Soulless would soon follow suit. And why would they not? After all, London was a ripe hunting ground stocked full of potential prey. With that in mind, Fyror carefully surveyed the terrain as they headed for a nearby church, intent on reporting the horrid incident that had just occurred in Hyde Park. To scan his surroundings, Fyror had to swivel his head further than the average person due to his limited line of sight. All the while, he kept his footfalls as quiet as possible, utilizing his skill at shadōtoyūgō (stealth). He figured the quieter they were the less attention they would draw and the more his excellent hearing could pick up. In the end, he didn’t need good eyesight to tell if they were being followed.

Five minutes of running down the empty dirt road had gone by when a manor came into view. Jeanette suddenly deviated from her original course to head towards the manor for reasons unknown to Fyror. A group of people that had been congregated outside were quickly dispersing. He caught a glimpse of a familiar face before she disappeared into the confines of the manor. If he was not mistaken, it was Millicent Wyndham. The last time he had seen her she had attempted to lessen the devastating blow caused by her mother’s slight of him. “I would be more than blessed to have a man of honor as a husband than any other cretin in the room,” Millicent had boldly spoken up in contradiction to her mother’s implication that he was unworthy of her daughters due to his mangled appearance. Whether Millicent truly meant her words, he knew not. “Forgive me sir, please,” had been her departing words.

Fyror was pulled from his thoughts as Jeanette called out to the sole person standing outside the manor. The woman’s name was Virginia, apparently, and she was evidently acquainted with Jeanette. The woman had abnormally pale skin, almost reminding him of a ryne. His head tilted to the side the slightest as he watched and listened to her speak with Jeanette. She was peculiar in her manner of speaking, and her demeanor gave little away. She seemed to be knowledgeable in the ways of hunting Cargast, which is probably why Jeanette went out of her way to speak with the woman. He kept quiet, not wanting to interrupt their conversation. Besides, he was here for Jeanette’s protection, nothing more and nothing less. Well, maybe that wasn’t strictly true. He admittedly enjoyed being in the company of someone who was not deterred by his mangled appearance. It was a nice change of pace.

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Roleplay: Soulless Regency
Date of post: January 4, 2017
Character: Fyror Gallant Kildragon

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Location: Leaving Hyde Park

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Fyror kept a watchful eye on the advancing fog as he and his brother Leon followed the woman to the nearest exit. His hand was instinctively rested on the hilt of his sword, not that it would do much good if the Cargast did come for them. From his limited knowledge of this type of Soulless, he knew that it could only be truly killed by capturing the mist in a Pentatone Box and then undergoing the purification process. Unfortunately, it wasn’t his area of expertise as his training in Japan focused on the areas of strength and speed based fighting for defeating Ryne and Hraew. At this very moment, he regretted not pursuing further training. He hated feeling useless to help someone.

The fog suddenly stopped advancing and tore off in the opposite direction where it vanished under a bridge and into the mist above the water. It gave Fyror little relief as he had a nagging feeling that there would be more Soulless to deal with this day. The air was filled with the sounds of people screaming as they scattered away from the scene, and in the middle of Hyde Park laid the lifeless body of the Cargast’s victim. He felt a pang of sadness knowing what the poor girl had gone through, and after 72 hours she would change into a Soulless Cargast. Her fate was to become an abomination to the living.

Fyror, Leon, and the woman soon arrived at the closest exit from Hyde Park. Fyror continued to scan their surroundings for any new threats while he listened to what the woman had to say. He nodded his head in acknowledgement to her statement that she would go to a nearby church to receive aid for dealing with the Cargast. It seemed to be a logical place to go to. Though she said it was nearby, he was hesitant about letting her travel alone considering there was a possibility that there were more Soulless out there. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if something happened to her because he wasn’t there to help protect her. However, his mind also went to his mother and sister who he had left in a nearby inn. They were probably worried sick, and he would hate for them to risk stepping outside into all of this madness. Perhaps he could send Leon. Though he didn’t have nearly the same amount of training as Fyror, it was a better option than his mother and sister having no one to keep them safe.

Fyror couldn’t help but glance over at the woman when he heard the note of happiness in her voice at her realization that he had given her his name. He gave her a small smile when she told him her name: Jeanette Crane. She was evidently eager to get going, and Fyror couldn’t blame her. He turned to Leon and quickly spoke to him, “Leon, I need you to go back to the inn and make sure our mother and sister stay there. I can’t leave Jeanette to travel alone. Keep our family safe while I am gone.” Fyror left Leon little time to object as he took off after Jeanette. He prayed that his family would be safe through all of this. London clearly wasn’t as safe as people would like to think it was.

mnkee's post archive

Roleplay: Soulless Regency
Date of post: January 2, 2017
Character: Fyror Gallant Kildragon

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Location: Hyde Park

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Fyror for the most part tuned out the ramblings of those around him, instead focusing his attention on the woman before him. He was honestly surprised by her bold compliment. He was not accustomed to being complimented by a woman, certainly not for his appearance of all things. A small genuine smile brightened his features as he continued to listen intently to what she had to say.

He nodded his head as she made a good point. He found that he greatly admired her confidence. She knew that others thought ill of her and yet she stayed true to herself and lived with no regrets. He would always do what he felt was right and honorable; however, in the process, he let people’s opinions pierce him, and he carried the weight of that pain with him. He often catches himself in this trap. “Wise words, miss,” he replied earnestly. “My name is Fyror Kildragon, by the way, and this is my younger brother—”

Fyror’s voice was abruptly cut off by a piercing scream. His hand flew instinctively to the hilt of his sword as he spun on his heels to face the direction that the sound had come from. His heart lurched in his chest when his eyes landed on the source: a girl with fear etched on her face as a dark fog consumed her. Cargast. He knew there was nothing that could be done for the girl when she crumpled to the ground. He flexed his hand where it now rested on the pommel of his sword, and his eyes scanned the now freaked out crowds. His heart was torn by the knowledge that he couldn’t protect these people from this threat. Cargast just weren’t his area of expertise.

As the fog began to fan out across Hyde Park, he was spurred into action. “Leon, keep your eyes on the west and south. I’ll take the north and east. There could be more Soulless nearby,” he ordered, instantaneously going into officer mode. “Lead the way, miss.”

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Roleplay: Soulless Regency
Date of post: December 30, 2016
Character: Fyror Gallant Kildragon

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Location: Hyde Park

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Fyror noted that the woman before him had a nice smile and a relaxed demeanor. She seemed a bit flustered by him talking to her, leading him to believe she either was uncomfortable with him specifically or she was unaccustomed to a man speaking to her. Nonetheless, she continued to smile, and he gladly returned it with a kind smile of his own.

His brows drew together slightly at her question, unintentionally making his features look harsher. “Do I need a reason to treat a lady with respect?” he replied as more of a statement than a question.

When the woman seemed to study his features, he felt more self-conscious than ever. Surprisingly though, she did not seem detracted by his scar and messed up eye. He cannot remember the last time a woman, particularly an attractive one, took a good look at him. He fought the desire to bashfully look away as she studied him and instead maintained eye contact with her.

It felt like a long time before she spoke again when in actuality it had been but a few moments. The corners of his lips pulled down in a slight frown at her statement. He was truthfully saddened that she was so frequently ignored by people. “That is unfortunate. However, I am not from around this area,” he stated. “Many of the people around here seem to think that one’s outward appearance is a true representation of that individual’s nature, but I have found that to be often times false. I suppose all we can really do is stay true to who we are and prove them wrong.”

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Roleplay: Soulless Regency
Date of post: December 27, 2016
Character: Fyror Gallant Kildragon

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Location: Inn near Hyde Park --> Hyde Park

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After spending two days traveling by carriage from Colchester to London, Fyror and his brother Leon were both restless. Instead of staying inside, they opted to go for a stroll in Hyde Park. They left their rooms on the third floor and briskly descended several flights of stairs down to the ground floor. They tipped their hats in a simple greeting to those they passed by.

It felt a bit muggy when they stepped outside. Slivers of light peeked through the clouds in the sky, and the weather hinted at the possibility of rain. Nevertheless, Fyror happily breathed in the fresh air, feeling more relaxed by it.

Fyror and Leon took in their surroundings as they walked at a leisurely pace from the inn to Hyde Park. The number of people steadily increased the closer they got to their destination. Snippets of conservations could be heard as people passed them by. To Fyror’s displeasure, gossip seemed to be rampant in these parts. He was not fond of such talk and refused to be a part of it as he himself had often been the topic of people’s criticism. He knew how it felt, how it etched away parts of yourself, and he certainly would not wish that upon anyone.

Dressed as they were in their infantry uniforms, Fyror and Leon garnered a fair amount of attention. Several women walking with their escorts glanced in the men’s direction. One woman in particular caught Fyror’s eye as she smiled over at him. Just as he tipped his hat in greeting, he saw her smile quickly fade and a look of disgust cross her delicate features. Fyror quickly looked away and tried his best to mask the hurt from his expression. This was his life as he knew it. Hope would flare up in him just to be quickly dashed. It was easier to just believe that no woman would ever want him and instead focus his attentions on his work.

It did not take long for them to arrive at Hyde Park. As they walked, more gossip and snickering reached Fyror’s well attuned ears. His gaze took in his surroundings and soon found the subject of everyone’s berating, a woman wearing men’s clothes. In the moment, her attire mattered little to him as his protective nature flared up. His jaw clenched angrily as people indiscreetly mocked her. Why did people find enjoyment at the expense of others?!

When Fyror heard his brother Leon snicker the slightest, he quickly shot him a warning glare that told him he better shut up or else. Fyror’s gaze softened when he met the woman’s gaze. “Good day, miss,” he greeted her politely when they crossed paths. He gave her a kind smile, not caring what others thought of him. If he could brighten her day even the slightest, he would be thoroughly pleased.

mnkee's post archive

Roleplay: Soulless Regency
Date of post: December 22, 2016
Character: Fyror Gallant Kildragon

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Location: Gates of Jericho, London --> Inn near Hyde Park

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Fyror looked out the carriage window as the massive barricade of Jericho surrounding the city of London came into view. It was certainly an imposing sight to behold after the relatively serene ride through the countryside. He couldn’t help but feel that it made the walls encompassing the Colchester Garrison seem so puny in comparison. Fyror’s attention was drawn away from the window when he heard his sister speaking.

“Finally, we have arrived,” Genevieve remarked, her voice a mixture of relief and excitement. Fyror smiled softly at her, ever glad to see her happy. The images and sounds of his nightmare two nights prior had loosened their hold on him the moment he saw his sister alive and well. Seeing her cheerfulness now and throughout the long journey from Colchester to London had put him that much more at ease.

His gaze moved to his mother. She seemed a bit weary from travel but otherwise reflected a similar eagerness. He admittedly never fully grasped why they so enjoyed going to social events such as those held at Almacks. Perhaps he was just biased due to the demeaning manner in which people often treated him. He was treated as if he was broken and only gained his position in the infantry out of sympathy, or they have this preconceived notion that he is a bad guy that picked a fight with the wrong person. He hoped that in time people would see him in a different light. In the meantime, he would continue to treat them with respect and protect them with his life, whether or not they truly deserved it.

Fyror’s gaze finally drifted to his younger brother Leon. He didn’t seem nearly as excited as their mother and sister did, and Fyror wouldn’t fault him for it. Fyror recalled witnessing firsthand how mothers were quick to shove their daughters in Leon’s direction. His brother seemed to take it all in stride though. In fact, Fyror is convinced that Leon secretly enjoys all of the attention. Fyror, on the other hand, had no such problems with insistent females.

The carriage soon came to a stop, as they had reached the gates of Jericho. Fyror could hear their carriage driver talking with one of the men manning the gates. One of the men then looked into the carriage, quickly doing a once over of the occupants. Unsurprisingly, he eyed Fyror longer than the others before eventually permitting them through the gate. Fyror couldn’t help but think that they probably would have been through the gate quicker if his father was with them. Colonel Theodore would likely arrive later today, along with some of the other officers from Colchester Garrison. He had business to attend to that delayed his departure.

It was a relatively short ride from the gates to the inn in which they had two room reservations for. It was a higher quality, and thus more expensive, inn located near Hyde Park. When the carriage came to a stop, Fyror and Leon exited first. They then lent a hand to help their mother and sister out of the carriage.

“My lord, you received a letter at the gates,” the carriage driver stated as he handed a scroll of paper to Fyror.

“Thank you, sir,” Fyror replied. He put the letter in his pocket for the time being and then started pulling luggage from the carriage.

“My lord, there’s really no need for you to do that! I can handle this for you!” he heard a woman exclaim from behind him before appearing by his side. He quickly realized that she must work for the inn as she scrambled to grab the bags from him. Her eyes widened the slightest when she looked over at him, and wariness quickly filled her persona. He felt a desire to reassure her surge within him.

“It is really no bother, miss. I am happy to be of aid,” Fyror stated politely. A kind smile lit his features, making him appear less intimidating. He helped her pull the luggage from the carriage and carry it inside. After checking in, Leon also came to aid them. Fyror could see the woman’s demeanor slowly change from wariness to surprise and gratitude. The sight of peers aiding a middle class worker certainly garnered strange looks from others, but Leon and Fyror couldn’t care less. It took little time to get the luggage into the two rooms they had reserved, and soon enough Leon and Fyror were relaxing in their room.

“Keep being as chivalrous as you are now and the ladies will be flocking to you in no time,” Leon remarked with a smirk on his face.

“I doubt that,” Fyror replied. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the letter he had received upon arrival. He opened it up and began reading it as he relaxed back in his chair. It welcomed them to the city and stated that those hosting the event at Almacks were looking forward to their attendance. His brows furrowed as he read further. The letter stated the hosts took into account his limited field of vision and had extra precautions in place to prevent him from being inconvenienced. What did these people think he was, completely incapacitated?!

“What does it say?” Leon asked, walking over to Fyror. Fyror just shook his head in response and started to fold up the letter as he was uninterested in sharing it. To Fyror’s annoyance, his brother reached over and stole the letter from him.

“Leon!” Fyror objected, but his brother just ignored him. Leon’s brows rose as he read through the letter, and by the time he had finished he was laughing. “I am glad you find it funny,” Fyror retorted, scowling at him.

“No, that was most certainly rude. The thing that I find funny is that despite having one less eye to work with, you are still a better fighter than many of the soldiers in our regiment,” Leon replied as he tried to control his laughter. “These people do not know you like I do. They have not seen you in action. One day you will save their lives, and they will have no choice but to think completely different of you.”

“One can only hope,” Fyror muttered.

mnkee's post archive

Roleplay: Soulless Regency
Date of post: December 19, 2016
Character: Fyror Gallant Kildragon

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Location: Colchester Garrison in Colchester (Essex county), England

Images of location

Colchester garrison is made up of several different barracks (infantry artillery, & cavalry) over several acres. Officers, such as Fyror and his father, have their own special quarters that are more luxurious in comparison to rank and file soldiers. Each of the officers’ quarters is assigned to a single man. The officers have their own kitchen, called the mess, which is run by a “mess man” who is usually a capable sergeant. The officers also have their own anteroom where they can hang out before and after meals when they are off duty.
Sources: 1, 2

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March 19, 1823

A strangled cry left Fyror’s lips as he woke with a start. Panic constricted his chest, making his breaths come out in short quick breaths, as his eyes darted around frantically. His surroundings were enveloped in darkness, and for a painstaking moment he believed that those images and sounds that had overtaken his mind weren’t simply dreams but memories. He found some relief when his good right eye slowly adjusted to the darkness. He was soon able to make out the shapes of the furniture in his room and could see a sliver of light peeking through his closed curtains. He pushed the tangled mess of sheets off of himself and basically stumbled out of bed. A draft of cool air bit at his sweaty chest as he crossed the room, his eye never leaving that sliver of light. They say when you die you see a light at the end of a dark tunnel. Well, that’s what it felt like to him. That light was either his hope or his demise.

Fyror reached out to draw back the rough material of the curtains. He felt the air whoosh out of him in relief when he could see clearly from his one good eye. It was still early in the morning, as the sun was working its way up into the sky and the garrison was just beginning to stir with life. He rested his head against the cool window pane as his mind drifted back to what he now knew was a nightmare. He had been fully blinded and accidentally killed his dear sister Genevieve. He looked down at his hands, an image of them drenched in her blood flashing through his head. A shiver went down his spine, and it wasn’t at all from the cold.

He pulled himself away from the window and tried to push the torturous images and sounds from his head. He began to get ready for the day, first fixing his bed then washing from the basin. He changed into his infantry uniform: red coat with gold details, white trousers, boots, and hat. He grabbed his belt, which already had his sheathed katana, single shot pistol, and canteen attached to it, off of his bedside table. He pocketed his wallet and pocket watch before exiting his quarters.

The smell of food being cooked wafted from the mess room, and Fyror could hear the stirring of people. There were a few officers already congregating outside the mess room and in the anteroom. “Mornin’ gentlemen,” he greeted them each in turn.

Fyror found a seat by the window where he could drink in the warm sunlight and contemplate what the weekend would bring. He admittedly wasn’t looking forward to the few days it would take to travel down to London to spend time at Almacks. He felt that he had the respect of his fellow soldiers, but the other peers and gentry were much more judgmental. He stood out like a sore thumb thanks to his mangled face. However, despite how he felt, he would go for the sake of his mother and sister and to maintain a positive image of his regiment. Ultimately, he was determined to make this a good day.

mnkee's post archive

Roleplay: When Royalty Collides
Date of post: November 23, 2016
Character: Feora Isabel Swinth

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Feora caught snippets of the conversations around her, but the only one that really caught her attention was Raven and Elizaveta’s regarding a slumber party. In all honesty, she wasn’t terribly excited about the idea; however, she knew she shouldn’t pass up the opportunity to get to know and build relations with the kingdoms’ future rulers. She hoped that the night wouldn’t be filled with conservations solely based on trivial matters but could be steered towards something more meaningful. She would greatly enjoy having an intellectual conversation for a change of pace.

She decided not to pursue starting any new conversations. There would be plenty of time for that later. Right now, she wanted some food. As she started to cross the room, she glanced over at the newest arrival. She did a double take and suddenly stopped in her tracks when she realized it was Henry, her betrothed, who had just entered the room. Her gaze swept over him, and her eyes widened in dismay when she saw that he was still wearing his pajamas. He hadn’t even bothered to brush his hair or make himself even slightly presentable. She quickly turned to where her back was mostly facing him but she could still watch him out of the corner of her eye. He seemed completely out of it. It wasn’t until after he had taken a few sips of his coffee that it finally seemed dawn on him where he was. Oh good Lord, help me, she groaned inwardly.

She wasn’t about to approach him. That would only increase her torture by letting everyone know that she was betrothed to this…fool, royal mess of a prince, walking zombie, I don’t know what I am supposed to call him. She turned her attention away from him entirely and went back to what she had previously been doing: going to get some food. Unfortunately, her “peace” was short lived. What the hell, she thought when someone suddenly tugged on her hand and began to practically drag her across the room. She started to pull away from the person but then stopped doing so when her gaze landed on the source: Henry.

Her face flushed, and she felt a wave of humiliation wash over her. She could almost feel the inevitable stares that this spectacle was likely garnering. Indignation quickly filled her, and when they were out of view, and hopefully earshot, she would let him have it. When Henry finally came to a stop, she ripped her hand from his grasp. Abruptly following that, in one impulsive move, she made to land a solid smack across his cheek. A fieriness that had not been there since the day her father had told her about her arranged marriage ignited itself within her. Out spewed her unfiltered feelings. “Don’t ever do that again. I am not some woman you can just do with as you please. I can only imagine the horrible impression you just made on all of those people. It is one thing to present only yourself as a fool, but my reputation is now linked to yours. I will not have you tarnish my name and my kingdom!” she snapped at him.

mnkee's post archive

Roleplay: When Royalty Collides
Date of post: November 12, 2016
Character: Feora Isabel Swinth

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Feora smiled softly at Mai’s reply. She personally was more of a history and military buff, so she couldn’t exactly relate with Mai in regards to the princess’s fondness for fashion. Nevertheless, she found that she admired the genuine confidence that Mai exuded. The way the princess could talk freely about what she loved was something that Feora also envied. Though she wouldn’t let that fact taint her view of Mai.

Her attention drifted to Prince Leonard of Krieg-Königreich as he entered the room and greeted her and Mai. She gave him a respectful curtsy before speaking, “Good morning. It is nice to meet you as well, Prince Leonard.” She couldn’t help but think that it was odd that her father had not arranged for her to marry someone like Prince Leonard or Prince Niklas of Königreich der Welten considering their strong militaristic kingdoms. What was it that her father saw in Elaniel, a potential conquest to add to the Swinth name? He must have some kind of scheme in mind, and one way or another she would figure it out and put a stop to it.

She let out an audible sigh before her gaze moved aimlessly around the room. She saw Sade enter the room next and noted that several others, including her betrothed Henry, were still absent. Not that she was going to complain about it. She felt that her head was clearer and she was a bit more at ease with his absence. If only she could avoid him for the next three months. She felt her stomach rumble hungrily at the sight of the food finally being brought out.