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 Posted: Wed Mar 18, 2015 4:29 am
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2015 3:27 pm
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Name: Klaas
Race: Oban
Height: 5'4''
3 Base Traits: Foolhardy, quick study, rough around the edges
Personality:
Klaas is a brash individual. Thinking before he acts isn't exactly his strong suit. Usually he goes into battle guns blazing. Shoot first, ask second. He goes with his gut instinct and consequences be damned. Of course this gets him in way more trouble than it's worth most of the time, but with his head strong nature, it's just how it is. Change is never easy for Klaas, and probably never will be easy.
He's naturally a quick study. He sees something once or twice and can usually mimic it in a way that won't get him hurt. With just a few more tries he has it down pat. Such as a bit of parkour. He learned how to tuck when he lands without breaking a leg, simply from watching some hooligans use it in a town he visited once. Being brash means you have to be able to pick up on certain things, otherwise you'll end up hurting yourself or someone else worse.
Klaas, in general, is your typical rough guy. At least at first. He seems like a thug of types with his speech patterns and the way he carries himself. Even when his expression is neutral it's more along the lines of 'resting b***h face'. But as you get to know him, Klaas is a very sweet individual. He cares deeply for friends and wants to quickly make them. He likes to goof off and joke around, even if his tone makes it hard for others to pick up on it right away.
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2015 3:27 pm
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Klaas was born like a normal Oban to a mother and a father. His parents are still alive to this day. His mother is very strict and over protective while his father is more along the 'kids have to make mistakes to learn' type. He didn't grow up with consistent discipline and as a result Klaas has some issues with his temper and thinking he can get away with things.
When he was about six or seven, his father was watching him while his mother was staying at her sister's house after she'd just had a baby. During this time Klaas got a bit too close to the smoldering fire that the family had going every night and ended up tripping over a rock and falling in, resulting in half of his face being badly burned.
Since then he's been wearing a mask that changes over the years and it's gotten to this white, almost monster like appearance now that he thinks is helping him intimidate the monsters in the world. Of course he knows it intimidates people as well.
After Klaas's accident, his parents at first kept him hidden from sight. They got asked questions and ridiculed for not being careful enough when they answered honestly. So they would put a cloak over him, too big so it hung in his face and just pulled him along by his hand. Sometimes they hid him within the wagon if they were going into town to buy supplies.
When they got his skin healed up enough for him to wear a mask, Klaas took it a bit hard at first. He hated the mask, didn't understand why he even had to wear it. He was sure if he explained to anyone who stared that they wouldn't stare anymore. Of course this wasn't the way things turned out. Some of the children he tried to befriend were cruel to him, called him names or just flat out told him he was too ugly. So he hid behind his mask for a long time. He let the mask become his identity. He still didn't make many friends because he turned from this boisterous young boy into this shell of a child who was so desperate for friends but too worried about getting hurt.
As he and his parents came across a small settlement as they traveled, a little girl about his age, ten or eleven, saw him sitting by himself one day and came up to talk with him. She asked about his face and Klaas just explained to her what had happened. After she took in the information she asked him to play with her.
That was another turning point of his life. Klaas realized he could make friends, even with a mask over his face. From there he blossomed into this young man who wants to take the world by storm and show that outward appearance means diddly if you're got yourself a good personality.
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2015 3:28 pm
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2015 3:28 pm
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2015 3:28 pm
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Posted: Thu Sep 01, 2016 10:27 am
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_____ A n x i e t y _____
Summer was the literal worst season for him. Dark skin and hair meant he retained heat more than most, and combined with the scars that didn't seem to ever heal properly, Klaas was a ball of miserable man. The lanky Oban was settled upon a bolder off to the side of a path and he just took a deep breath and tried to cool himself off. The dreadlocks were soaked in sweat and he was just not in a very good mood right now.
It was weird for him. In a different place with no one he knew, in a heat he wasn't actually familiar with. He heard leaves rustling and people fairly close by, but he just.. couldn't people today.
In all honesty he didn't think he could handle more than one person at a time, and if he went into the city up ahead he would be an anxious pile of Klaas. Or he'd get arrested for the speech that left his mouth. He had kind of a potty mouth on him when he got stressed. He also could end up punching someone if it became bad enough.
Klaas suffered from a mild anxiety and just some days it was fine, and others, like today, he wanted to be home. He wanted to be home and in bed and just not deal with literally anything. He missed being able to pull a blanket around him when he was like this. Klaass swallowed thickly as he pushed sweat off his face. The mask was removed already, as it seemed to be more often than not in the summer. It was at his hip, tied to his waist. Anyone who came by would see a half burned Oban with a glare on his face and an unhappy demenur anyway.
As if they need more reasons to hate me, he thought bitterly. He drew his legs to his chest and bit down on his arm as he leaned forward. Slowly the man tugged at his single sleeve and ground his teeth together. At least out here, by himself, he didn't have to keep a guard up. At least not until someone wandered. Then he'd probably just slip to the other side of the bolder and out of sight like some kind of lanky snake like creature. Just be a pile of Klaas goop over where no one could see him.
Need to get to the inn and out of this sun.
With that thought in mind, a clear goal, Klaas gathered himself and toughed it out. He walked up the road for a while to get to the town inn. Fortunately he managed to avoid having more than a simple conversation with the inn keeper and just sort of curled up on the bed in the cooler air immediately.
Blankets were pulled over his head, the curtains were drawn to get the room as dim and dark as he could, and he just lost himself to sleep. Better to sleep than keep feeling anxious no matter what you do, right?
Words: 509 |
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Posted: Thu Feb 09, 2017 10:40 am
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_____ A f f i n i t y _____
In which Klaas finds a body!
It wasn't like Klaas didn't know what he wanted to be. He had an idea. He would probably make a great healer. The thing is he didn't know if he had any magic in him to be that kind of healer. He'd never tried. There was no reason for him to try. Thus far he'd only had minor scrapes. (In Klaas's humble opinion, his burns don't count. He couldn't do anything about the scar.) He didn't know anyone well enough to tend to their wounds, or even run across a severely injured person along his journeys. So it was very difficult to remember to even try most of the time.
Boy did he wish he'd run into someone like that now. Or even paid attention when everyone was going on about first aid.
With blood on his hands and this Oban looking like he might take a turn for the worse, Klaas was a flustered mess of tears and frantic thinking.
The day started off just like any other. The sun rose right behind his house, meaning his room was the first one hit with it. It made the scared Oban reach for his mask before his eyes were even open. He rubbed his eyes with one hand before putting the mask on, his hair basically perfect thanks to braids and dreads. He had baby hairs and fly-aways that needed to be taken care of, but not this early in the morning.
He had breakfast, he washed his face, put ointment on his scars on his face, remasked and then he was out to the world. He first ran down to the local pub to see if he could find someone drunk enough to think he was a servant boy. They paid him well if they thought that. He didn't work in the tavern, but he did come and help out. He knew the owner's son and it meant he wasn't completely ripping people off.
By mid-day he decided to go somewhere for lunch. He heard there was this little cafe place that had great sandwiches with all kinds of exotic meats.
He'd been traveling down the winding path to it, at the edge of his town when he had stumbled upon a pair of boots in a bush.
“Odd,” he had said to himself. He walked over and kicked at one of the boots, thinking it'd just sort of flop over but unfortunately it was a thud.
Crap.
“Oh man!” Klaas then went around the bush and saw the rest of the body. He was alive, an arrow through his shoulder and imbedded in his side. He was likely going to die if Klaas didn't try to help.
Only he was petrified and he stood there, mouth open, tears welling up. He hadn't seen anyone this injured before. At least, not with these kinds of wounds. His stomach tightened, twisted, and he slowly fell to his knees. Noise was suddenly muffled, he felt his heart beating too hard in his head, the pressure building as Klaas realized more and more that he had no idea what he was doing.
His hands reached out, he fumbled. It… made sense to break the arrow. So he did that, grabbed it with two hands and snapped it. The the ones at his sides, he did as well. The man cried out, gasped and jerked, tearing skin, causing more blood to spill onto the ground.
His stomach lurched.
He couldn't. Klaas got up and raced for his village. He had to get a proper healer. So with bloody hands and legs, he ran as fast as he could. He found the healer and didn't even explain. He reached out to her, grabbed her by her hand, and pulled her along the way. He was still crying as he lead her to the person he hoped was still alive.
“Boy! I said, boy! What are you doing? Where are we going?!”
Klaas never responded. He just pushed the push to the side and heard the healer gasp.
With that, the healer sent Klaas to get her bag. Screaming at him to hurry, that the other Oban man might not have much time left. So he ran back, leg muscles burning and making it known they were being over worked. He barged into her house again and then once more back to her after he'd found her bag and grabbed what he though she might need. What else she might need, that is. Basically a sheet off her bed to rip into more bandages. There had been so much blood…
So he ran back to her. Klaas knelt down, opening her bag and watched her work. He watched as she manipulated his body to take the arrows out. Watched as she put some kind of mud like mixture on the wounds. It would fight infection and hopefully staunch the bleeding. She went to work with a needle and thread. By this point the man had passed out.
“Luckily,” she clucked as she started to sew up the holes. “The mud is good. It'll be best if left on there until it dries completely. Then wipe it off and reapply.”
Maybe she saw Klaas needed the distraction. His face had gone pale, his hands were shaking.
“You did good, boy,” she said to him after a moment. “He would have died by the end of the day if you didn't find him...”
As she finished one wound, Klaas put his hand over it, let it hover. “This isn't the same as the one for my...”
“No. It wouldn't be… Burns and arrow wounds are dealt with in very different ways. You're interested in learning?” Her eyes turned to the masked Oban. She had caught a glimpse of his burns around his mask.
“..I can see what I can do. We have to see if you have the magic for it.” The way she said it made Klaas tense up and look at her. Maybe he'd found his calling after all.
Word count: 1004 |
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Posted: Thu Feb 09, 2017 11:50 am
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_____ C l a s s Q u e s t _____
A girl is brought in with an illness that the healer doesn't know what to do. Klaas throws things together and just tries to cope and figure out how to safe a life. He finds his magic.
Finding that body on the side of the road happened months ago. Since then he had been under the tutelage of the town healer. He learned he had the memory to make potions and but his timing needed work. He didn't get to work with patients yet, but he read the notes that she'd left him.
“I feel like a stupid chef,” he muttered to himself. He was happy to work with potions, but he didn't feel like he was learning anything useful.
Well. Okay. He knew potions and ointments, salves, balms, and what not were important work to a healer, but she hadn't taught him how to tend to sword wounds. He wasn't taught how to sew up wounds yet. He wasn't even taught the proper way to check for a pulse. No, Klaas couldn't touch a patient at all, and it was getting very irritating to him.
The masked Oban figured she was keeping him out of sight. Who would trust a healer with scars they couldn't heal.
The bitter depression was getting to him. He stared at the pestle and mortar before him and just shook his head. He was making the same paste for the hundredth time this week. Klaas was so bored he could literally do this while napping.
It continued like this for a few months more.
One day, it changed. Maeri the healer came in with a little girl who was dangerously sick. She'd lost weight, her eyes looked sunken, black around them. The girl was soaked with sweat, her red hair sticking to dark skin. On her arms red spots. It looked like some form of pox.
“I don't know what it is,” the healer said frantically. “I've been treating her at her house, but she's gotten worse. Klaas, something for the fever. It's too high. We have...”
He'd never seen her so frantic before. Klaas readied the tub. He went back and forth to fill the pail with the coldest water he could find. “Here. In here.” He helped the healer lower the girl down into the tub and helped her head above the water. She shivered, she whined, she half screamed too. The girl was so delirious.
Klaas was scratched and even bit at. Nothing broke skin, but her nails did cut his sleeve once.
“These marks,” Klaas said, swallowing. “...They're.. they look like.. some kind of pox. Did ..you try--”
“Of course I did, Klaas!” She snapped at him.
The male ducked his head and just focused on feeling her skin to make sure the fever was going down. “Is it a brain fever?”
If it was, she'd start convulsing soon.
Unfortunately, Maeri didn't answer him. Instead, she was busy looking through books, trying to figure out what illness this was. More than likely it wasn't contagious, else someone else in her family would have it. The old woman just shook her head and ran a hand through her knotted hair.
It took almost a half-hour before the fever died down a little. The tub had been drained and re-filled three times to keep her cold enough. Finally Klaas lifted her from the tub and put her back on the patient bed in the middle of the healer's hut. From there, he applied a salve to the spots. He didn't know if they itched, if they hurt her, but they looked ready to burst and looked like it could cause infection if they didn't at least try something.
“Should we… lance them?” His black brows knitting hard before licking his lips. There was no answer yet again. The healer didn't seem to know what to do.
So Klaas didn't do anything. He sat beside the girl's bed, holding her hand and listened to her pained whimpering. He prayed to whoever was listening to watch over this little girl, to help her. Help Klaas heal her.
It was hours later when Klaas lifted her head, offering water mixed with medication to her. She needed fluids. She was still feverish, still sweating, but not as bad. He hoped what he put into the water would help her fever come down. She gagged, almost threw it up, but he kept a hand on her mouth and told her to swallow it.
“Come on, sweet heart. I know it's bitter. Please. For your sake, just get it down.”
And she did, and Klaas rewarded her with a cool cloth to her forehead. “Thank you. You're such a good girl. Don't worry..” He looked to the healer who was working on something for her. “We'll make sure you get better. We have to get your fever down...”
Would they be able to save this girl? His eyes watered as he held her hand and just smoothed her hair back.
Come on, Klaas, think!
He looked over to the herbs he had and then got up. He started mixing things together. Fever reducer, swelling and pain reducer. He swallowed thickly as he continued to mash everything around in the bowl, adding some of the mixture he mixed in with her water.
The boils on the girls arms weren't growing or anything. They weren't reducing either.
“I think.. They need to be lanced,” he said, looking at the healer.
“I know,” Maeri whispered. “I've taught you how to do it? Do it. Heat the needle. Once...”
He stopped her and shook his hands. He knew. He was going to put this mixture on her wounds to get it into her faster.
It was a slow process. He had to check everywhere, getting every boil he could find. They weren't on the middle of her body yet. So he lanced, put the mixture on, bandaged, and just did it with every single boil. Over thirty of them over her limbs and neck. Her shoulders, too.
When he was done, Klaas rested his head on the bed next to her, exhausted and stiff from sitting still on a stool for so long.
He looked up when Maeri put hands on her and started to help the process along. “Try, Klaas. Try.” She sounded tired, too. She'd helped him. Made more mixture, changed needles for him, kept the candle hot and lit. She lifted the child, and fed let the girl squeeze and dig her nails into her arm. It came with being a healer. Her arms were littered with little half moons of nails.
So Klaas put his hands over the girl. He closed his eyes and tried to feel the magic within. He concentrated so hard sweat build up over his skin. A few minute later, his hands had a glow to them and that glow was going into the girl just like Maeri's glow was.
“Ah,” Maeri said tiredly. “You are a healer yet...”
They did this for ten minutes before Klaas had nothing left to give. Exhausted, the pair of them changed her bandages one last time and slept for the night. Klaas stayed right beside her.
They did this treatment for three days, always pouring magic into her at the end.
It was working. Klaas's magic, Maeri's, and the combination of everything he could think of was working.
On the fourth day the girl was strong enough to sit up. She was strong enough to complain about how thirsty she was and Maeri sent her on her with with instructions for her parents, along with the mixture.
Klaas had never once felt this good about anything in his life.
He helped save a little girl. She'd now have a long life ahead of her.
Word count: 1261 |
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