di
MZambos Member
A Man for all Seasons
- Last Seen: 5 mos ago
- Old Guild Username: MZambos
- Joined: 10 yrs ago
- Posts: 124 (0.03 / day)
- VMs: 0
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Username history
- MZambos 10 yrs ago
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Most Recent Posts
Glad to hear it's still active. I had hoped this hadn't died.
di
This seems like a good time. :D
I'll write up a CS.
I'll write up a CS.
FWIW, I'm still alive. Just started a new semester at college. Been really hectic, but I think I can make it back around now.
Same here. I haven't posted much since I don't have much to contribute as things stand.
Nothing felt right.
Lionel was, of course, no expert in the affairs of the gentlefolk. He was a simple man of simple means, hardly anyone to play at the delicacies of aristocracy. Thus, it had been utterly baffling when he received an invitation to Lord Fowle's gathering. The man had been gone so long that some people had just assumed that he had died without informing anybody. Now, suddenly, he was holding a Masquerade and inviting farmers and god-knows who else. It certainly couldn't come at a more awkward time, considering that November was harvest month. Still, he decided that an evening at Lord Fowle's manor couldn't do much harm. Lionel had dressed himself in his Sunday Best: a brown suit coat with a black-and-white vest underneath, just a little too large to fit comfortably. His mask was even less extravagant, crudely fashioned from whatever material was available, done only in the span of a week.
Nothing felt right.
Lionel couldn't escape the feeling that he wasn't meant to be here. Even when the caretaker took his coat and invitation without much question or remark, he still felt as though he was here by mistake, as though the invitation had come to him purely by accident. He didn't know the finer points of dining or dancing or dialogue. Not that it seemed to matter: the was hardly anyone around to begin with, and it didn't feel like there were going to be many more. Perhaps his ideas about what these balls entailed were simply incorrect? And yet...
Nothing felt right.
Even despite his simple birth, Lionel knew that something was off. He wasn't sure what, but there was a sort of disquiet that hung over everything like a cloud of miasma. He almost thought to leave before everything began, but decided against it. It would be rude to leave before anything had started, after all. He took to wandering aimlessly around, hoping to be as unnoticed as possible.
Lionel was, of course, no expert in the affairs of the gentlefolk. He was a simple man of simple means, hardly anyone to play at the delicacies of aristocracy. Thus, it had been utterly baffling when he received an invitation to Lord Fowle's gathering. The man had been gone so long that some people had just assumed that he had died without informing anybody. Now, suddenly, he was holding a Masquerade and inviting farmers and god-knows who else. It certainly couldn't come at a more awkward time, considering that November was harvest month. Still, he decided that an evening at Lord Fowle's manor couldn't do much harm. Lionel had dressed himself in his Sunday Best: a brown suit coat with a black-and-white vest underneath, just a little too large to fit comfortably. His mask was even less extravagant, crudely fashioned from whatever material was available, done only in the span of a week.
Nothing felt right.
Lionel couldn't escape the feeling that he wasn't meant to be here. Even when the caretaker took his coat and invitation without much question or remark, he still felt as though he was here by mistake, as though the invitation had come to him purely by accident. He didn't know the finer points of dining or dancing or dialogue. Not that it seemed to matter: the was hardly anyone around to begin with, and it didn't feel like there were going to be many more. Perhaps his ideas about what these balls entailed were simply incorrect? And yet...
Nothing felt right.
Even despite his simple birth, Lionel knew that something was off. He wasn't sure what, but there was a sort of disquiet that hung over everything like a cloud of miasma. He almost thought to leave before everything began, but decided against it. It would be rude to leave before anything had started, after all. He took to wandering aimlessly around, hoping to be as unnoticed as possible.
NAME: Lionel Ackerman
ABSTRACT: A young farmer in a brave new world.
DETAIL: Lionel was the oldest surviving of 4 children. Born in relative poverty, much of Lionel's life was dedicated to his family's farm. With the advent of steam machines, much of the work revolving around agriculture was made simpler, and the time to do it was cut nearly in half, and many people took advantage of the slowly declining power of the aristocracy to move to more urban centers to seek their fortunes. Lionel's father, however, made the decision to stay, and with the agricultural reforms recently passed in parliament, the Ackerman family often found the government to be the primary buyer of their goods, as opposed to the local buyers. With the death of his father, the property passed to Lionel, since none of his older siblings had any children before they passed away. An ambitious person, he has hopes to run for governor of Pallhallowshire county, and hopes to one day represent the county in the House of Commons. An industrious and devout person, he is uninterested in love and romance, and has promised the farm property to his younger sister and her children, since Lionel has no interest in siring any of his own.
NAME: Lionel Ackerman
ABSTRACT: A young farmer in a brave new world.
DETAIL: Lionel was the oldest surviving of 4 children. Born in relative poverty, much of Lionel's life was dedicated to his family's farm. With the advent of steam machines, much of the work revolving around agriculture was made simpler, and the time to do it was cut nearly in half, and many people took advantage of the slowly declining power of the aristocracy to move to more urban centers to seek their fortunes. Lionel's father, however, made the decision to stay, and with the agricultural reforms recently passed in parliament, the Ackerman family often found the government to be the primary buyer of their goods, as opposed to the local buyers. With the death of his father, the property passed to Lionel, since none of his older siblings had any children before they passed away. Given his ambition, he has hopes to run for governor Pallhallwoshire county, and hopes to one day represent the county in the House of Commons. An industrious and devout person, he is uninterested in love and romance, and has promised the farm property to his younger sister and her children, since Lionel has no interest in siring any of his own.
This looks like it could be fun. Give some time to draft an application
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