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 Posted: Wed Mar 29, 2023 10:13 am
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Posted: Wed Mar 29, 2023 10:26 am
[ RP ] Wine 'em, Dine 'em! [ RP ]
[- Roleplay Located Here -]
[- 10 Posts -]
[- Oba -]
[- Firbrand x Suria-]
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Posted: Wed Mar 29, 2023 10:27 am
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Posted: Wed Jul 05, 2023 7:36 am
[ S ] Encounter With A Foolish Father [ S ] [- 721 words -]
[- Oba -] The night draped the opulent halls of the Jothan estate in an eerie silence, punctuated only by the muffled sounds of Firbrand's restless pacing. The grandeur surrounding him felt suffocating, a reflection of the lavish lifestyle he had grown weary of. The recurring theme of his father's indulgence in drink had reached its breaking point, and Firbrand could no longer ignore the impact it had on their family. His mother may be content to turn a blind eye to such behavior, but Firbrand found himself ashamed of the double standards his father had on display.
As the clock struck midnight, the telltale sound of stumbling footsteps reverberated through the hallway, drawing closer to Firbrand's location. He heaved a sigh, recognizing the familiar shuffle of his father's gait even before he came into view. Henroy Ambrose, once a man of cunning wit and unwavering ambition, now reduced to a mere shell of his former self as he drove himself mad chasing the sweet temptation of the gambling halls.
Firbrand's jaw clenched, his usually composed expression hardening as he prepared himself for the confrontation that lay ahead. The young man had mustered the courage to address his father's detrimental behavior, hoping to instigate some semblance of change within their fractured family. With a mix of frustration, concern, and a tinge of sadness, Firbrand's voice resonated through the dimly lit corridor.
"Father, must you always return like this? You stumble through the door, reigning chaos down upon us all. Our family's reputation is at stake, and you seem blissfully unaware of the damage you inflict upon us," Firbrand implored, his voice laced with a desperate plea for understanding.
Henroy's bleary eyes momentarily focused on his son, struggling to maintain coherence amidst the haze of intoxication. It must have been a terribly unlucky night if he returned this drunk. His father waved his hand dismissively, his words slurred and heavy with indifference. "Ah, Firbrand, my boy. It's nothing to concern yourself with. A mere indulgence, a temporary escape from the burdens of this world. Trust me, everything will be fine. Soon you will understand when you're old enough to join me."
The young Jothan scion felt his frustration intensify, a cocktail of anger and sorrow welling up within him. He did not ever picture himself indulging in such activities, a sign of the new generation deciding to be better than their parents.
"But Father, can't you see? You risk our family by your actions, the family you married in to to fund such indulgences. The Jothan empire is built upon hard work, resilience, and integrity, not the luck of the gambling hall. I worry about our future, about the legacy I will take over once you and mother are gone. Don't you have any pride?"
His father's eyes glazed over with a mix of anger, his voice now tinged with bitterness. "Legacy, my son? Look around you. We have it all. Wealth, power, influence. What more could we possibly need? Your concerns are nothing more than the fretting of a privileged child. Fear not, a simple gamble will not waste away our empire."
Firbrand's heart sank as he witnessed his father's indifference, the realization of his deep-rooted self-absorption hitting him with a force he had not anticipated. He had hoped that his impassioned plea would penetrate the façade of indifference and inspire his father to change. But it seemed his efforts were in vain. Disheartened, Firbrand watched his father stumble towards his private chambers, leaving him alone in the dimly lit corridor.
Internally, Firbrand wrestled with a storm of emotions—anger, disappointment, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility. He couldn't help but fear the repercussions of his father's actions on their family's future. The once-illustrious Jothan empire, once an epitome of success, nobility, and prosperity, now teetered on the precipice of decline. All it would take is one partner, one investor, and it would topple into oblivion. A heavy weight settled upon Firbrand's broad shoulders as he vowed to himself that he would do whatever it took to salvage what remained of their heritage.
In the following days and weeks, Firbrand immersed himself in the affairs of the Jothan empire, attempting to find a solution to take over before he came of age. That was the only hope he had to make sure things were right.
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Posted: Wed Jul 05, 2023 7:36 am
[ S ] Conversations with a Careless Mother [ S ] [- 801 words -]
[- Oba -] Several weeks had passed since Firbrand's confrontation with his father, and although he had thrown himself into the affairs of the Jothan empire, he found himself no closer to finding a way to take over the business from his father. The weight of responsibility still burdened him, leaving him in need of respite and solace.
One sunny afternoon, with a sense of longing for comfort and familiarity, Firbrand sought refuge in the lush gardens surrounding the Jothan estate. It was a rare setting in Oba, and another example of the opulence that the family resided in. There, nestled beneath the shade of a wide palm tree, he found his mother, Ohrai Jothan, lounging as she indulged in the blissful embrace of leisure.
A warm smile spread across Firbrand's face as he approached his mother, his footsteps hushed on the sandy pathway. He carried a tray laden with iced tea and an assortment of delectable snacks, a small gesture to provide a momentary escape from the complexities of their lives.
"Mother," Firbrand greeted her, setting the tray down on a nearby table. "I thought you might enjoy a quiet moment with some refreshing tea and treats."
Ohrai's eyes sparkled with delight as she reclined against the plush cushions, her gaze fixed on her son. "Ah, my dear Firbrand, you always know just what I need. You spoil me endlessly."
Firbrand took a seat beside her, taking in the serene ambiance of the garden. He knew he needed to tread lightly, avoiding discussions about his father that might burden his mother further. Instead, he decided to focus on the simplicity of the present moment.
Leaning back, he took a sip of his tea before turning his attention to his mother. "Mother, tell me about your childhood. What were your dreams and aspirations when you were young?"
Ohrai's eyes glimmered with nostalgia as memories danced through her mind. "Ah, my darling boy, I was a dreamer. I longed for adventure, for a life filled with excitement and opulence. I imagined myself traversing the world, attending glamorous soirees, and being the center of attention. But life took a different course, and I found myself in a different kind of luxury."
Firbrand listened intently, captivated by his mother's words. He had always known her as a woman of indulgence, but in that moment, he sought to understand the desires that lay beneath her surface. "And what do you want most in life now, Mother? What brings you true joy and contentment?"
A wistful smile graced Ohrai's lips as she reached for a delicate pastry. "My son, what I truly want is simplicity. The freedom to lounge in gardens like this, to appreciate the small pleasures of life. I want to bask in your success and watch you thrive. Your happiness, Firbrand, that is my greatest joy."
Firbrand's heart swelled with a mixture of gratitude and determination. He placed his hand gently on his mother's, offering reassurance. "Mother, you have always been my pillar of strength, my guiding light. I promise you, no matter the challenges we face, I will always take care of you. You deserve nothing less."
Ohrai's eyes shimmered with tears of love and pride as she rose from the chaise longue, preparing to retire for an afternoon bath. She turned to Firbrand, her voice filled with motherly affection. "My dear Firbrand, you have inherited the best of me. I trust that you will navigate these troubled waters with grace. I believe in you, always."
As Ohrai left to prepare for her bath, Firbrand sat alone in the garden, his resolve bolstered by the strength of his mother's unwavering support. The weight of responsibility remained, but now he carried it with a newfound determination. He understood that he had a duty not only to salvage the Jothan empire but also to protect and care for his mother, ensuring her happiness in the process.
And so, as the gentle breeze rustled through the garden, Firbrand gazed upon the horizon with a renewed sense of purpose. The path ahead may be treacherous, but he was determined to forge a legacy that would honor his family's name. With his mother's love as his guiding light, he would navigate the complexities of their world with integrity and resilience.
Taking a deep breath, Firbrand rose from his seat, the resolve within him burning brighter than ever before. As he left the garden, he carried with him the memories of that serene afternoon, the taste of iced tea and the sound of his mother's laughter echoing in his mind.
The journey ahead would be arduous, filled with challenges and sacrifices. But Firbrand knew that no matter what lay in store, he would face it head-on, armed with the lessons of the past and the unwavering support of his beloved mother.
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Posted: Wed Jul 05, 2023 7:37 am
[ S ] Unsavory Whispering [ S ] [- 540 words -]
[- Oba -] Firbrand, adorned in his finest attire, attended a lavish social event hosted by one of the prominent aristocratic families in the city. The ballroom was abuzz with laughter, music, and the clinking of crystal glasses. Amidst the swirl of society, Firbrand's gaze wandered, taking in the grandeur that surrounded him.
As he made his way through the crowd, a hushed whisper caught his attention. His ears perked up, and he discreetly turned his head, feigning interest in an elaborate painting on the wall. A group of aristocrats, their faces masked with faux smiles, were engrossed in a conversation just a few steps away from Firbrand.
"What have you heard about Henroy Ambrose?" one of them murmured, their voice dripping with intrigue.
A second aristocrat leaned in, their eyes gleaming with the excitement of sharing gossip. "Oh, darling, it seems he's been spending quite the fortune at the gambling den. Rumor has it that he's even resorted to borrowing money to fuel his reckless habits."
Firbrand's heart sank at the revelation. His greatest fear had materialized before his very ears. The consequences of his father's actions were far worse than he had anticipated. The Jothan empire, already teetering on the edge, was now threatened by the weight of financial ruin.
His mind raced, thoughts colliding as panic and frustration surged within him. The judgmental gazes of his peers seemed to bore into his very being, intensifying the overwhelming sense of shame that washed over him. He felt exposed, vulnerable, as if every eye in the room had turned their scrutiny upon him.
Unable to bear the weight of the truth any longer, Firbrand felt the urge to escape, to retreat to the solace of solitude. He swiftly maneuvered through the crowd, his steps faltering as he fought to maintain composure. Each passing moment only heightened his unease, his mind replaying the whispers of gossip he had overheard.
Finally reaching the exit, Firbrand burst through the doors, feeling a gust of cool night air against his flushed cheeks. His breath came in ragged gasps as he leaned against the exterior wall, desperately trying to collect his thoughts.
In that moment of solitude, Firbrand faced the stark reality of his family's plight. The weight of the Jothan legacy, once a source of pride, now seemed insurmountable. Doubt gnawed at his spirit, threatening to extinguish the fire that burned within him.
But as he took a steadying breath, Firbrand's determination resurfaced. He could not allow his father's actions to define him or the future of the Jothan empire. He would find a way to overcome this setback, to rebuild their reputation from the ashes of his father's follies.
With renewed resolve, Firbrand straightened his posture, wiping away the traces of vulnerability from his countenance. He would face the judgmental gazes of his peers head-on, armed with the strength that came from confronting adversity. As he reentered the ballroom, his steps purposeful, he refused to be swayed by the whispers of gossip and the weight of their stares.
Firbrand would forge his own path, rising above the ashes of his father's mistakes, and proving to all that the legacy of the Jothan empire was far from extinguished. But first, he had to address his father.
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Posted: Wed Jul 05, 2023 7:38 am
[ S ] Early Morning Chaos [ S ] [- 1,104 words -]
[- Oba -] Dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold as a haunting pounding resonated through the Jothan estate. Firbrand, his usually composed demeanor shattered, stumbled out of bed and rushed to answer the insistent rapping at their door. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing with apprehension and a growing sense of foreboding.
As he swung the door open, his breath caught in his throat. Standing before him were the solemn figures of the city watch, their expressions grave and unyielding. The weight of their presence hung heavy in the air. He could only imagine what they were doing here so early in the morning, and he wondered where his father had gone off to.
The lead officer, with a voice as cold as steel, delivered the devastating news that would shatter the remnants of the Jothan empire. "Firbrand Jothan, by order of the Crown, your assets are being seized due to outstanding debts. We have been authorized to document and collect all items of value."
Firbrand's heart sank, his mind reeling as the implications of their words crashed upon him like a tidal wave. He turned to his mother, Ohrai, her face etched with panic and despair. Her cries for her husband, a desperate plea for him to rectify this nightmare, filled the air. But it was a futile call, for his father was nowhere to be found.
Through trembling lips, Firbrand demanded answers from the city watch. "Where is my father? What has he done?"
The officer's expression softened, though it offered no solace. "Your father, Henroy Ambrose, has fled. And with him, he has taken all of your family's gold, leaving behind a trail of debts and broken promises."
A torrent of emotions surged through Firbrand, anger and frustration intertwining within him like a tempest. The weight of betrayal pressed upon his chest, threatening to suffocate him. His eyes burned with tears unshed, as the reality of their situation unfolded before him.
As the authorities continued their meticulous documentation of what little remained in the Jothan estate, Firbrand and his mother stood in the center of the chaos, their hearts heavy with the realization that they had been left abandoned, penniless, and facing the dire repercussions of his father's gluttony.
In that moment, anger welled within Firbrand, fierce and unyielding. The flames of resentment licked at his spirit, fueling his determination to rise from the ashes of his family's ruin. He refused to succumb to the darkness that threatened to consume them, vowing to rebuild what was lost and restore the honor and prosperity of the Jothan name.
With gritted teeth and clenched fists, Firbrand vowed to himself that he would not be defined by his father's mistakes. He would rise above the ruins of their shattered fortune, armed with an unwavering resolve to reclaim their rightful place in society.
But alongside the fiery determination, there flickered a fragile ember of fear. Fear of the unknown, of the struggles that awaited them, and of the burden that now rested solely on his shoulders. Yet, Firbrand knew that he could not falter. He had witnessed the consequences of indulgence and greed, and he was determined to forge a different path—one of resilience, integrity, and redemption.
As the city watch concluded their inventory and departed, leaving the Jothan estate devoid of its former grandeur, Firbrand and his mother stood in the hollowed halls. They may have been left destitute by his father's actions, but Firbrand would not be defined by it. He needed to take care of his mother, who had wilted to the floor in exhaustion. He would embark on a journey of recovery and reinvention, seeking solace in the fact he still had his mother to take care of as a driver toward a newfound success.
The road ahead would be arduous and rife with challenges, but Firbrand, his voice filled with steel, vowed to himself and his mother that he would face each obstacle head-on. Anger and frustration fueled his every step, but beneath those tempestuous emotions lay a simmering resolve—a resolve to rebuild their lives, to rise from the ashes of their father's betrayal and prove that the Jothan name was not tarnished beyond repair.
As the echoes of the city watch's departure faded, Firbrand took his mother's trembling hand in his own, offering a silent reassurance amidst the wreckage of their once-glorious existence. Their eyes met, and his heart broke at how defeated and void she had become. But there was something to look forward to with this development, a silver lining.
No longer would they be the victims of his father's gluttony and recklessness. Firbrand would seize control of their destiny, crafting a new narrative—one of resilience, honor, and redemption. In that moment, he made a silent vow to his mother, a vow that he would not only rebuild their family's fortune but also shield her from the harsh realities that lay ahead.
With a heavy sigh, Firbrand turned his gaze to the decimated halls of their former opulence. Each empty room, each silent corner, was a painful reminder of what they had lost. But he refused to let the shadows of despair consume them. He would wield his father's failures as the catalyst for their resurgence.
In the days that followed, Firbrand tirelessly sought opportunities to restore their fortune. He immersed himself in the intricacies of finance, attempting to ensure the connections were not severed. And yet his father's mistakes ran deep, and each of their allies slammed their doors in his face. He had become a pariah, an outcast that no one wanted to work with. In him they saw his father, and it meant he had no future in Sulburi, at least at this time.
Amidst the frenetic flurry of their new existence, Firbrand remained ever vigilant of his mother's well-being. He shielded her from the depths of their financial turmoil, offering her solace in the small pleasures that life still had to offer. In whispered conversations over modest meals, he regaled her with tales of hope and possibility, painting vivid pictures of a future where their family would rise from the ashes like a phoenix reborn.
It would take a long time, and he needed to make sure his mother stayed healthy through it all. Since they walked away from their empty house, he grew concerned with her health, her behaviors and her lack of interest in the world. Cursing his father, Firbrand knew he needed to establish a safe home for his mother before he would hunt down the man who had torn their world apart.
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Posted: Wed Jul 05, 2023 7:38 am
[ S ] Determination [ S ] [- Class Affinity Solo -]
[- 479 words -]
[- Oba -] Firbrand stood before the modest storefront, its sign adorned with an intricate design of crossed swords. The decision had been made, born out of necessity and a newfound realization of his vulnerability. No longer sheltered by the opulent walls of his former life, he understood that he needed to learn to defend himself and protect the ones he loved.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door, the jingling of a small bell announcing his arrival. The shop was filled with an assortment of weapons, each gleaming in the dim light that filtered through the windows. The shopkeeper, a weathered man with calloused hands, regarded Firbrand with a knowing look, as if he understood the young man's motives.
Firbrand approached the counter, his gaze sweeping over the array of blades before him. He sought something practical, yet discreet—a weapon he could conceal beneath his clothing, close at hand but unnoticed by those around him.
His eyes settled on a sleek dagger, its blade gleaming with a deadly sheen. Its craftsmanship spoke of elegance and lethality, a perfect balance of form and function. Without hesitation, Firbrand requested the weapon, feeling the weight of responsibility settle upon his shoulders.
As he paid for the blade and its accompanying sheath, the shopkeeper studied Firbrand intently. "Remember, young man, the true power of a weapon lies not only in its steel, but in the heart and mind of its wielder. Use it wisely, for the line between defender and aggressor can blur in moments of desperation."
Firbrand nodded, acknowledging the shopkeeper's words, and left the store with his newfound companion hidden beneath his cloak. The weight of the weapon pressed against his side, a constant reminder of the path he had chosen and the risks he now faced.
Under the veil of night, within the confines of their modest dwelling, Firbrand began his arduous journey of self-defense. He carved out a secluded space in their home, where the flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows upon the walls. With each strike and parry, he honed his reflexes, seeking to master the art of close-range combat.
In the depths of his training, Firbrand's thoughts lingered on the faces of those who would seek to take advantage of his newfound vulnerability. He vowed to himself that he would not succumb to their desires, nor allow harm to befall his mother. The blade he concealed, a silent sentinel by his side, symbolized his commitment to their safety, his unwavering determination to protect what remained of their fragile world.
When he returned to his mother's side, he made sure to hold her hand and silently promise that he would protect her. While his daggers might not be as showy as some of the other weapons, they would still do with his intent to travel, make a name for himself, and be the protector of his own future.
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Posted: Wed Apr 17, 2024 6:35 pm
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