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Post by dewdrop on Jun 4, 2020 22:18:18 GMT -8
Cyrus took her time within the stagecoach. The journey had been an arduous one. She thought she'd go half-mad sitting in one place for long. Its timely arrival in the humble Hamlet had come as a blessing. Her eyes flicked down at the crumbled parchment resting in his lap. Another aristocrat's call to arms, though this one was of a different sort. Whatever the case, Cyrus had stumbled upon the flier at just the right time. If she hadn't made the trek to this place, she'd likely be locked up tight in some decrepit gaol, waiting for her turn at the gallows.
Most of the other passengers had already departed, but Cyrus couldn't bring herself to move. A small part of her couldn't stand to be in this place... so far from home. Cyrus pinched at the bridge of her nose. Now was not the time for second thoughts. What was she to do? Ask the caretaker to kindly take her away from this place?
Shifting in place, Cyrus began to scoot from her seat towards the door of the stagecoach. A new life awaited just outside that unassuming threshold.
A sharp hiss escaped Cyrus. As she slid out from the stagecoach to her feet, she had cracked her forehead against the low hanging edge of the top of the door frame. She stiffly rubbed at her forehead. The pain was nothing but a dull ache, easily ignored, but the lump that'd be begotten by the glancing blow wouldn't be.
"Blazes," Cyrus grunted to herself, bringing her hand back. No blood. She supposed that was something of a silver lining. "There's an ill omen if I've ever seen one." Only somewhat embarrassed, Cyrus made her way around the back of the carriage for her luggage. Her belongings were scarce- naught more than a musket and an ill-kept trunk of clothes and other personal effects. Personal effects was a strong word, perhaps; most of her personal effects were bear traps, after all.
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Post by ricarditoreyes on Jun 4, 2020 23:07:39 GMT -8
As Joseph stood against the cold stone wall of a random residence, the gleaming glow of the setting Sun served as a kind distraction to all else. The young man had always enjoyed quiet walks at ungodly hours, mainly due to the isolation it gave him. Of course, it was only late evening, but he decided to start his walk earlier due to having no other place to go. He was tipsy, nothing surprising. Perhaps this was why he enjoyed showing his true face only when no one was around to see it. Despite not knowing anyone in the town, he never could've dealt with the petrifying gazes from the townsfolk, likely brushing him off as another sorry drunk. As he closed his eyes, thinking this evening would be like every other, he was brought out of his meditative state by the sounds of footsteps and chatter. He had always come walking simply for the isolation factor, which made these noises quite distracting. Before he could even get annoyed, his mind started racing. Thieves? Unlikely. And if so, he could handle his own in a fight. He decided to track down the source of the noise. After all, if they were indeed thieves, he'd rather spot them before they spot him.
After walking as quietly as a slightly drunk young man could towards the noise, he peered over a wall to find two figures. By their garb, he drew that one of them was in relation to the Church. He scoffed quietly to himself. After all, Joseph was never a man of God himself. No, especially not after what happened all those years back. He wasn't able to draw much from the other, except for the fact that his figure and build lead to the conclusion that it was a male. What could a man and a sister of the Church be doing out in a seemingly random alleyway? This, he did not know. After a few seconds of contemplation, the young man decided to walk in to get a closer look. He was certain that they were no thieves at this point, and thus had no reluctance in approaching them.
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Post by rosallora on Jun 5, 2020 9:23:57 GMT -8
[Toustain]
"You'll have to accept an apology - I'm sorry I don't h-have anything." She walks with uneven gait, now just a bit desperate to get away from the man. She wasn't even armed - what if he had threatened-? But at another quick glance over, she can see he isn't armed either. Or anything he was carrying was buried under so many layers of fine fabric that surely it'd take half an hour to try and get it out of a sheath! Her eyes dart around, looking for a reprieve. Anything at all to take her out of this situation. Luckily for her, there was someone nearby.
"Oh sir!" She says, stepping forward. "Perhaps you're in need of some assistance?"
She has no idea why a random man walking on the cobbles would be in need of help. But it's the first phrase that naturally fits into her mouth, and so it's the one that her lips produce.
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Post by Kidney on Jun 5, 2020 17:43:32 GMT -8
Ripped from the safety of isolation with Young Toustain, Darrio hissed quietly, looking over his shoulder towards The Tavern. It was seemingly silent, and Darrio reacted as if that silence could scald him, recoiling from it. Perhaps...one could settle on an empty building, and furnish themselves a gambling hall and opium den. That plan would have to wait, as the dark-haired man yanked his scarf over his face, and his hood over his head, grasping and holding before him the Device, and scuttling away, back into the Alley, shuffling wildly on towards salvation in another form of isolation. Isolation with himself.
He threw himself between the buildings, dancing between the doors and buckets, staring to the odd metallic doorknobs and the cold stone walls. Darrio planted a hand on the sheath of his crescent-shaped blade's handle, and steeled himself. He giggled, escaping, and found himself in a strange housing-area. The Commonwealth?
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Post by ricarditoreyes on Jun 5, 2020 20:48:30 GMT -8
As Joseph drew near to the mysterious pair of individuals, he was not able to gather much information on them until one of them decided to leave. The young man heavily debated whether or not to chase this figure, as people with nothing to hide would likely not take off at the first sight of something unfamiliar. However, it wasn't his business. Perhaps this could all just be a misunderstanding? The young man's hesitation is what primarily stopped him from ever beginning his pursuit. By the time Joseph came to his senses, the runner was already too far gone for him to chase down.
No matter, as the lady of the Church seemed to be inquiring on why Joseph was interrupting this meeting in the first place. It wasn't like this was a hard question to answer, but it took him a surprisingly long while to think of how to respond to such a simple inquiry. Joseph himself did not know why he decided to trail two seemingly random individuals. The actual reason was a gut instinct and perhaps a little bit of fear, which drove him to find out what the source of the noise was and whether or not it meant any harm to him. He finally turned to face the woman. "G'day. My apologies for interrupting your little meeting here. 'Scuse me for prying, but what is a woman of the church like you doing in a place like this anyway? Not the safest to be in, 'specially at this time of day." This was true, at least to Joseph. In his few walks around here, he had encountered no saints or good folk and the few encounters with people would not be described as favorable at all. He looked over to the exit of the alleyway, which the other man previously left through. "Your friend must've reckoned I was a thief o' sorts. Smart fellow. My apologies for driving him off. I thought the same thing of you two. 'Twas why I trailed you in the first place. You must excuse my wariness." His apology got a bit frantic by the end. Luckily, he had the sense to shut his mouth before he started sounding desperate.
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Post by rosallora on Jun 6, 2020 12:51:32 GMT -8
The presence of the other man was gone quickly, like a breath on the wind. And Toustain found herself almost floundering into this stranger, trying to find the words that would allow her to excuse herself. "You are so right," she says. "He was no thief and I'd wager that you aren't either, but it never hurts to be prepared!" She swallows tightly - her throat is dry. "I... you know I was trying to go on a walk. But it seems like I shouldn't be going so far from home." Her expression falls a bit at that.
She really had just wanted to enjoy the freedom of the streets. If only. "You don't need to apologize, good sir, I assure you."
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Post by rosallora on Jun 6, 2020 19:22:41 GMT -8
[Aurora]
Aurora was by all accounts unhappy. Pissed, even. Angry. Dissatisfied. In need of a few choice things, some of which she wasn't even aware of. Many of them included bandages. Another shard of glass clinks to the cobblestoned street as she walks along it, thankfully out of the sight of the terrible little Russian man and the other more beastly one. A lump of gold coins and a precious bauble was all she had to her name now, other than a very resilient hurdy gurdy and an outfit that was ripped largely to shreds.
She was hardly street legal, and she did not care. She felt that the patchy, barely-coagulated woundings spoke enough for her.
She sees a woman. A woman coming off of the stagecoach, getting her things - Aurora spits to the side. It was time to perhaps do one of the only first good things in her life. She stomps up, stumbling over a misshappen cobble and forcing a tight curse from her lipstick-smeared lips. THen she straightens, practically a warning hag, and looks at the woman, a pale finger outstretched.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll get right back onto that coach. This instant."
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Post by ricarditoreyes on Jun 6, 2020 21:06:52 GMT -8
Guilt wracked the young man at this point. He made the realization eventually that he had just disrupted an innocent walk between two individuals for no reason other than a hunch. By the gods, what was he thinking? Luckily he was smart enough to keep his composure and not blatantly express his guilt. He was only distracted from bashing himself for his misdeeds when he noticed the familiarity of the woman. Joseph had not seen too many church officials in his time, and most did not stick in his head for long either. However, he couldn't quite put his finger on it at this point.
Upon hearing of the lady's plans that were now spoiled due to the young man's inquisitive nature, Joseph's guilty conscious would not allow him to just walk off without atoning for his mistakes. He decided to finally make his reply. "Yes, yes. The street's ain't kind at this time of day, and it won't be getting any better the later you stay out here" he says with a lighter tone. The young man finally went with the conclusion that the lady and her friend were originally out on some business trip. "I won't be able to rest tonight knowing I ruined a stranger's business. Let me escort you on your walk. You can do whatever you set out to do in the first place. Perhaps we could even find your friend. 'Til then, however, it would be wiser not to stay in this place on yer lonesome" he quickly blurted out. He wasn't too keen on escort missions of any sort, especially when they interrupted his nightly walks. However, he simply couldn't allow himself not to take responsibility for what he caused. "I could help ya out if you told me what brought you lot here in the first place, but if it ain't for my ears to hear I can follow quietly and help you find yer friend."
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Post by EloHim on Jun 6, 2020 21:24:14 GMT -8
[Volundr]
"The fuck are you giggling about, mate?"
A voice comes from behind Darrio... and it's not a welcoming one.
A raven-haired man of imposing stature,clad in leather and fur stands behind him...in his left hand a wooden shield with a Helm of Awe carved into it...and in his right hand a hammer that would be quite able to cave in someone's skull.
"Lemme tell you a short story... Yesterday there was an attack on this here settlement. A lot of people got hurt, a lot of good people. A lot of bandits died to the blade. And now, I see before me a shifty fuck that comes off a stagecoach, scares the hell out of a well-intentioned priestess...and now walks these streets as if looknig for something. Sounds all kinds of suspicious, wouldn't you agree?"
He takes a few steps forward. His eyes are locked onto the man in front of him, and that look is not one that foretells a friendly conversation.
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Post by rosallora on Jun 7, 2020 8:36:57 GMT -8
[Toustain]
"Oh.. my Goddess, you're just too kind." Despite the slight smell of liquor on his breath, the man seemed to have all good intentions. All apologizing, sweetness on his tongue - and the well-intentioned kind, not the type that made you have to rethink everything all over again. She smiles, and it's genuine this time, though guilt pinches the corners of her eyes.
"If I'm... being genuine, sir. I just wanted to enjoy a walk out in the open air. It was... quite a troublesome time the other night. And I just wanted to. You know. Assure myself." There's a shyness that overtakes her voice, confessional. She straightens herself up, however.
"You know it's my job as a vestal to get to know the people of the Hamlet. To ensure that needs are being met. If you'd like to walk a while, it'd be nice to just have some conversation. And then I wouldn't have to worry about being accosted by someone." She allows herself a little laugh. "It's safer, like you said. Not being alone."
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Post by ricarditoreyes on Jun 7, 2020 9:01:30 GMT -8
It didn't take much intuition for Joseph to understand that the woman did not feel threatened by his presence. At the very least, he knew she wouldn't be running off like her friend did. At least for now. The thought crossed his mind once again. The young man never dealt so well with regret or letting go of things, hence why alcohol was his best friend. Of course, he was sensible enough to keep his flask in his coat.
He was pulled from his silent self deprecation as the lady offered to have a conversation. He could barely contain his excitement. After long last, a friend he could talk too. It didn't even matter to him anymore that she had faith in the church that Joseph strongly disagreed with. "Well, it'd be my pleasure! You must have business elsewhere, no? Lead the way then, I'll be close behind." he stated, the enthusiasm almost overwhelming him. He took a longer glance at the lady, trying to draw a conclusion as to why she looked so familiar to him earlier. "Oh! Where are me manners? I go by Joseph Borowitz. Pleasure to meet ya."
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Post by rosallora on Jun 7, 2020 9:06:48 GMT -8
[Toustain]
"Joseph... I believe we've met." She smiles. "Last Vestalia - I remember you. It was only in passing, but I try not to forget names and faces. I was selling some pastries at the time for the church! Pies and buns and whatnot, though Ser Roard bought all the buns so quickly that I don't think many others got them." She laughs softly, and begins walking. There's a notable limp in her right leg, enough to effect the cadence of her step but not enough to impede her walking altogether.
"Like I said I don't exactly have... business. But. Honestly, the chance for a fair walk in the evening air is reason enough, isn't it? It's warm tonight and I don't feel like I have to go hiding inside." The abbey, or otherwise. The man probably favors the tavern, if the smell was anything to go by. But it wasn't her place to judge. "What brings you wandering about?"
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Post by ricarditoreyes on Jun 7, 2020 9:45:00 GMT -8
It took a short while for the man to remember the name "Vestalia". It came rushing back in quickly. Yes, how could he forget. It was one of the few times that the Hamlet felt warm and welcoming. "Ah, yes! I do remember now". Memories of savory pie filled Joseph's heart with content and his mouth with saliva. He hadn't eaten dinner yet, inconveniently enough. He lets out a short chuckle. "Oh my, that pie. 'Twas amazing I tell you! Filled me up for days, I swear." As the memories came back to him, he remembered how he was advised to share the pie with others. Not that he didn't want to have pie with friends, but he went against it. Partially because the warmth of the town on that faithful day did not change the fact that he was a stranger in foreign lands, and also because the pie was pretty damn good.
"I usually just pace round these parts. It's nice to ease up every once in a while. This might not be the prettiest of places, but it sure is quiet enough to get me mind of things." He was pulled from his train of thought at the sight of the slight, yet noticeable, limp the lady walked with. Now, Joseph did not know much about the church and their customs given his past, but even he knew that it was highly unlikely that a vestal would be drunk. Looked more like an injury anyways. "You alright 'ere? You're walking weird. Need a hand?" he said in a slow and polite tone.
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Post by rosallora on Jun 7, 2020 10:48:00 GMT -8
She can't help the smile and the brightness in her eyes as he talks about the pie, her shoulders shifting up and down slightly as she listens to the praise. "I'm so glad! Ah yes - I'll never forget it. Hopefully I can make more sometime soon..." she notes his words, and, she considers her options. He seemed to be the kind type, despite the bit of unsteadiness.
"Oh it's - in the raid. My leg was hurt." She does not want to tell him about the splintered bones and the like, so she keeps that under wraps. "I'm sure that with time, it'll be better. But if you were to offer a hand, I wouldn't deny it. I admit.. I might have underestimated how much it'd impact my walking." More like she was trying to avoid the truth of it. "I was supposed to be going out into the wilds to help with a mission soon. But it seems like I'm going to let Ser Roland down... and Harina..." she grimaces. "But I can't help what happened, can I. Mm." A small huff. "Have you been outside to the Estate proper?"
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Post by Kidney on Jun 7, 2020 13:16:17 GMT -8
Darrio's face beneath the soft silk scarf around his dark head grew somewhat frustrated. Followed by, as he turned to see, a very large man, weapons drawn. Quickly, Darrio took a deep breath, and began to analyze. Obviously a Northman, afraid of the sun, it seemed. Darrio's eyes narrowed, but he dared not speak, such was a man to monologue, unaware of his follies. The robed man shifted, placing his Device once more at his hip, and beginning to unravel the delicate links of bronze chain from around his wrists and fingers, taking rings off so his hands were unceremoniously disconnected from one another. As Volundr's speech concluded, Darrio's hands were free to do as they pleased.
In a swift movement, accompanied by several steps back, Darrio reached within his robes and pulled forth a pistol. Its dark wooden exterior gaudy and covered in charms and bird-feathers. It worked, but looked toyish to the eye. In this dark, well, it looked strange. "I do not remember a Swede watching me, where were you hiding?" His voice is thick with carefully placed but equally sharp resentment. "To approach a man unawares in his vulnerable time, that's something I find...Rude." His thumb very deliberately pulled the flintlock back, the emerging click sound a warning all its own. "I'd suggest putting your weapon away, before this gets...Bloody, eh?"
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