Avatar of Thayr

Status

Recent Statuses

8 mos ago
Current Don't be a part of the problem, be the whole problem.
3 likes

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

Isla Gill

Location: Route 1 - Ancient Grove
Mentions: @Pyromania99


Isla watched her plan come to fruition, breathing out just a tad as she watched the attack just evaporate, the bug type becoming more enraged at the dirty tricks. Well, what works, works. It didn’t seem likely the wild Pokémon was going to be deterred, though, engaging with another furious attack that seemed halfway to strike at Dancing, halfway to release its clear frustrations. Her Eevee moved left, right, shifting among the attacks as it kicked up more than enough dirt to obscure her view. Amid it, though, Dancing’s frantic motions threw pieces of the underbrush at the Heracross’s face, about as afterthought as one might get.

Swiper, meanwhile, began his own advance from the side, urging the others on to join him as the little fox began to charge in.

Dancing uses Sand Attack!
Swiper uses Beat Up!



Isla Gill

Location: Route 1 - Ancient Grove
Mentions: @Pyromania99


“I’m…fine, thanks for…asking…”

Looking back at the fight, her two Pokémon having jumped in with the Heracross’s long, long horn now growing blue as it eyed Eevee with some amount of intent or another, Isla’s eyes went wide. They’d just jumped in on their own and, suddenly, she felt like she had to run in there and get them out. Yet…Yasu gripped at her as tightly as she could, wrapped there. Looking back, she could see Camila helping up the little psychic, though…where was her Pokémon?

A wave of annoyance passed over the young girl at the…just sheer inaction about things. What was she doing, just waiting things through. A few other things went through Isla’s mind, on just what was going on and how to best stop the whole thing, as she snorted out. Roughly shaking off Yasu and running up a few steps, a number of options came and went…not all of them good. The Heracross was clearly not even with her own but she could, maybe, even the odds a little bit. She searched through her pant leg pockets for a moment before drawing out a Pokéball.

“Dancing! Swiper! Get ready to get rid of it!”

She threw the ball.

Isla uses a Pokéball on Heracross!
Dancing readies an action: Burying the Pokéball!
Swiper uses Helping Hand!




⛼ A7 - Where They Handle Death ⛼

The journey through the Underpass was uncomfortable as can be for the small group, tugged every which way by the sense of encroaching death until every string to the dying was tangled to the others. He couldn’t tell who was close to death, there was so many, and even then it ignored those who would die far before their time. Worse than the outer layers of the sprawl, the effects of such chaotic death, such unstable life, played a even more pronounced effect on the gravekeep's followers. They paused at a few points for one or another to vomit on the side of the path, so tumultuous was the road in the Underpass. Little wonder why the collectors did not venture to pick up the dead when there was so, so many.

Such people couldn't even afford to move out into the slums of the sprawl, the gravekeep soon recognized, couldn’t even afford to move out past the sprawl for their own sliver of land to build a shack on. What drove them to stay in such poor conditions, what shackled them that they could not walk to the sprawl? Reasons, however bad, were able to be seen here, there. Eyes glazed over from a concoction of some poisoned well, their life growing thinner by the hour, or the stumbles of one too overtaken by drink to crawl from a bottle, poor men dead enough by debt that you could see where fingers had been taken…each the gravekeep saw the markings of shackles. A shiver ran up his spine, though the man could make no comment of the poor souls. His followers were likewise mute, though the gravekeep could hear one mumbling a prayer.

Eventually the trappings of death fell away to the sights of churches and crematoriums, business of all kinds associated with mourning and consolations. The sense of death was still present, he knew he could feel it here and there in old priests, but there was so many other things compared to the suffocating miasma in the Underpass.

“I see no graves,” said one to the others in the group, “They don't bury at all here.”

“The men before said they didn't. Burning them and giving such to their companions…it's better than the others. At least there is still something.”

The gravekeep's gaze passed over each and every one of the buildings as his faithful conversed. Some were predatory, the man with a glass of strong ale for those who wanted to drown away, and some were benign, the priest who offered prayers, with many walking the line between. His eyes settled on a church, one of many, and he stared briefly at the tall doors. A sigh finally passed, that long exhale and deflation.

Lethe cautioned his faithful, turning slightly to address them before setting off to the church, intent to open those doors and speak to whichever priest ventured there. “Be respectful. Our mission is a holy one, but theirs may yet be as well.”

⛼ O7 - Outskirts of Oratorio ⛼

The gravekeep stared for a few beats at the collector, thinking over what he’d said. Adventurer’s District would be a good place, true enough, and even if the people there had little interest in actually burying their dead, keeping it was a good start. They’d have a want to record, remember, to know, and that was the real need in his eyes. Of course, what his job might be in that hierarchy was uncertain, as uncertain as everything else, but it was a good enough start to the job. The gravekeep nodded a few times, mouth wry at the whole of the situation.

“I see. There’s always work, then,” he sighed, fingers tapping irregular on the tome at his belt. The Adventurer’s District would be a good enough place, and doubtless would largely be burying those same people, but that always assumes that the body was recovered. There would be those groups who fell in total, groups who could be recovered…groups whose gear could turn to gold and so fund the great mission. It would be hard, true, and dangerous…though it would have some benefit. There could yet be a place in the machine that the faith might be fulfilled, the mission accomplished, and the dead remembered.

“Thank you for your time. Might I have your names?”

A look passed between the collectors. They weren’t used to being spoken to; locals eschewed them and their trade. They were even less used to folk asking for names. The question hung in the air. The older one was the first to break it as he sucked his tooth thoughtfully, words somewhat careful, somewhat uncertain. It was odd enough, something that gave pause and question in return as to the why of it.

“Garbeck. And that’d be Terry.”

The gravekeep smiled, nodding slightly. “Thank you. May your work be light.”

With that, he turned, and the group made its way from the two collectors, their cart of forgotten dead, and on to the Adventurer’s District further into the city, intent fixed to find such folks who burned bodies, such folks who recorded the dead.
Isla Gill

Location: Route 1 - Ancient Grove
Mentions: @Pyromania99


The walk out to the area had gone surprisingly well, all things considered. Isla had let Swiper down to pitter-pat about, sniffing various things as they tramped through the general area he’d been found at. Dancing, for his part, slept throughout the whole of the walk. The only thing that might have given some small amount of discoloring as they went about on the trail would be Hatty getting caught staring at Isla and Camilla as the little Pokémon sat, cradled in Yasu’s arms. For being a psychic type, the lil guy was about as typical as you could expect.

They finally came to the branching-off part. Off the trail path was that dirt way, one tree adorned with little talismans here and there. They were curious little artifacts, pieces that the young girl didn’t recognize in completion but could pick out familiar parts here and there. The talismans reminded her of old Johto textbooks on religion, prayer, things connected to Celebi. Some were hopes, she thought, and others thanks, but none were exactly curses. That had lept out at Isla when she’d read it before, that Celebi didn’t work that kind of thing, didn’t do that kind of job. They shifted gently in the breeze.

“I believe it was…right…here? Ah, yeah, here it is. It's hard to see from the road, if you don’t know what you’re looking for. My family wanted to keep people away from it as much as possible, but…let's keep going.”

As they moved down it, she could see more and more talismans hanging from the branches, and mist seemed to creep about Isla’s ankles. Swiper, for his part, kept close to her feet, matching the group’s pace in a low stalk while his ears pressed against the bag of his head, flat. Dancing seemed to wake up, leaning forward while sniffing here, there, looking about. Things weren’t entirely normal, not entirely calm, not entirely safe. The tension was palpable.

That appearance didn’t happen with any sort of forewarning, a Heracross dropping down from one of the trees before them. Isla’s heart leapt out from her chest and she let-out what could be charitably called a squeak, her jump halfway flinging Dancing from that shoulder to the ground. Eyes wide, she watched as Yasu fell to the ground, Hatty tumbling along with, though could hear Swiper growling in that low stalk. The bug-type seemed to be going low, readying a charge with that great big horn of it’s.

The pair of them seemed to surge forward, Swiper moving quickly through the grass to hit the bug-type’s legs while her Eevee made good speed to kick loose dirt into it’s eyes. Holding her breath to try and not freak as everything went, Isla ran up to pull Yasu up to her feet.

Dancing uses Sand Attack!
Swiper uses Quick Attack!




⛼ O7 - Outskirts of Oratorio ⛼

“Returning people to nature,” snorted one of the followers, shaking their head slowly, sadly as they spoke in a quieter tone that was lost to the collectors in the din of their cart. “People aren’t beasts. If they were, we’d not be troubled by these worries.”

The gravekeep couldn’t help but agree, his mouth tight as he wryly looked on at the corpse-collectors’ works. To the men in the cart, what they were doing wasn’t ever exactly wrong. They had a problem, corpses in the streets of the countless dead from the city, and they had their solution. Those they took up were never asked about again, no not at all, and in fact were likely not even seen anymore as people. They were cargo, to be shifted about without remorse for the problem which had put them there to die, and in fact such collectors likely did not even have the remorse. After all, what were small men to do, to alter the city such that people would not die so? He couldn’t help but feel regret, though, towards the corpse-collectors. They had a problem, they had a solution, and they were not enlightened to the problems which such a solution would cause.

Lethe could already imagine their arguments in response. The nameless dead died so for a reason, forgotten because they had already become meaningless in life, and so there was nothing left to profit from remembering their names and how they died. He could already see the wonderment in them at the merest hint of a suggestion that burial was better, for there would be no one to mourn at the graves even if they had the time to do so. The base desire for burial and remembrance was never laid as a foundation in such men. What arguments could he present that might move men so?

Would the nameless dead even have anything upon them that might render a service back to a gravekeep merely by its existence? Would they have jewelry that might be sold to fund such efforts? Would they have clothing which might be sold? He doubted it. They were the nameless dead for a reason, lost in the streets for a reason, and likely anything that might have been sold would have already been sold. Likely those who could afford burial would already have their attendants, their gravesites, and turn their noses up at the likes of he and his. The gravekeep let out a long, dejected sigh at the prospects which lay before him.

“The task is a holy one, collector. People are people, and their passings should be written so those who come after know. There will always be work. The center, maybe?”

⛼ O7 - Public Square ⛼

“Just honest pilgrims,” came the gravekeep’s response to the second, looking the pair over with honest appraisal. They were surprised by the question, by the wonder, and that meant they came and went without issue from the gangs and such which they had earlier passed by. It meant the practice they gave, whatever it was, wasn't a new one. It had become accepted, cemented by all as fact. That could bode ill or well for the gravekeep. It depended on the practice itself.

He looked up at the first man, older and well-worn. A thought came to Lethe, a minor worry compared to it all. “Work, maybe. What happens out the city?” The gravekeep adjusted the shouldered shovel pointedly with that implied meaning as he asked. Sucking his tooth for a moment, he nodded, adding, “Mind we talk as we go? Wouldn't want to hold you up.”
@Thayr I got a lot of questions here. Why is the Dai Li taking your family? Why are they hunting you? How does a character with little training hold of a squad of Earth Kingdom soldiers? And I'm not gunna lie - friendship issues always make me nervous in rps. There is going to be a lot of character on character time; how do you feel like you are going to get around this roadblock yourselves set yourself?


- Dai Li took the family because they asked questions pursuant to the kidnapping of retired Earth Kingdom soldiers who were more in line with the King Xiong era and had made it known. In making noise, asking questions, they were undermining the Dai Li status quo and thus were removed.
- They are hunting Tomo because of the familial connection and suspicions that she is connected to those retired Earth Kingdom soldiers and, thus, is a dissident who requires removal.
- Because she was fighting a squad who were also exceptionally untrained - essentially conscripts. This combined with a stark difference in goals, survival versus capture, would allow Tomo to apply far more force/aggression compared to the Earth Kingdom squad and so allow her to fend them off until the rebel patrol arrived.
- Likely yes. I imagine at one point or another Tomo, or someone else, will be injured and thus will require caring for. I also imagine that, after a few combats, there will be far more trust. It's those little things that gradually move towards trust and friendship.

How long has it been since the removal of King Xiong?
Kicking about the idea of a former Dai Li agent, but I need to fit together the timeline.
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet