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 Posted: Tue Jul 12, 2011 1:53 am
Shooting the breeze
An RP featuring Scarlet Espostin, Wickwright Finch, and his plague, Hopkin. The setting is a Shyregoadian forest in the early hours of morning. It's cold but the skies are clear and tinged with pink from the just-risen sun. The snow is lower to the ground than usual with the coming of spring, but still well above the ankles, and bitter cold to the touch.
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Posted: Tue Jul 12, 2011 2:13 am
Most of Wickwright's remaining possessions were covered in a fine layer of frost. After the wet night the wagon had spent outdoors when the ox had run away, there was another freeze, and now everything was strange and beautiful and shone, but more importantly, everything was very, very cold.
Hopkin's own bronze skin fogged up as he breathed, the puffs of warm air clinging to his spindly fingers as he rubbed them together in front of his mouth. The squeaking noise of metal on metal always annoyed his Grimm, but in such weather, with the inside of the wagon so frigid, he couldn't help it. Wickwright, as a human, was worse off, unusually slow to wake, and short tempered when he finally did so. The circumstances were unpleasant, which was worse than them being dangerous to a Finch man like Wickwright. He handled being hunted by Cultists more gracefully than he handled numb fingers. Hopkin couldn't relate. He would put up with as much cold as he had to so long as they were safe.
"Hell's bells and corpus bones," muttered Wickwright irritably, poking at the pile of kindling he was attempting to coax into a fire. "If I have to deal with the curs't frost and the blasted snow, nature might at least be kind enough to start my fire."
"It's probably because of all the snow," Hopkin offered in an attempt to help.
"Goodness, is it?" Wickwright replied drily.
"Yes."
Wickwright sighed and stared into the distance for a moment, attempting to find a more interesting place to be in his mind at least, some friendly tangent that wasn't cold and dull and uncompromising. This proved fruitful for only the briefest of moments, as Hopkin dragged him back to earth with a simple comment:
"I hear noises."
Faced with something to do, Wickwright got up a bit too eagerly, and moved towards the direction his Plague was looking at, trying to spot what had caught the book boy's attention. As he did so, an arrow whizzed past his head and slammed into the side of the wagon.
Noises, indeed.
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Posted: Wed Jul 13, 2011 12:17 am
Shyregoad was cold, incredibly cold. The harsh realization consumed most of Scarlet’s thoughts as she trekked through the forest, her boots crunching against the snow. People had informed her that the layer of snow was a bit thinner due to the nearing arrival of spring, but the white powder still happily clung to her boots. Pushing back a tree branch, she leaned against the trunk to examine her shoes while she rested briefly. Tired breaths came out in quick, dissipating wisps as she bent down and lifted one of her boots. She attempted to brush away the snow, but immediately stopped when she realized how cold the snow was. Scarlet scowled, her bare hands retreating into her coat pockets.
“Why did I leave Mishkan, again?” she asked herself as she angled her head back. “I gave up perfect weather for harsh, cruel snow.” Not the best decision, but being part of the Imperial Guard did not leave much wriggle room for choices and freedom, much to her chagrin.
“I give up. I’ll practice here.” Her arm reached back to clumsily grasp her bow while the other arm searched around for the cluster of arrows she had brought in a casket. Fingers brushed soft feathers and she grinned when she slid out an arrow. Success.
She stretched out her bow, the string creaking as she pulled the weapon as far as it could. Scarlet cautiously lined up the arrow. Arms shaking as she struggled to keep the bow in place, she searched for a target. She didn’t expect much from a forest, much less a Shyregoadian forest—most of the creatures were probably snuggled in their dens, comfortable as they dozed. All Scarlet needed was a unique target: a flowered bush, an abandoned nest, anything.
Miffed, Scarlet attempted to stretch her bow even more as she continued to search for an object to shoot. “Please, just let me find a target! Anything will work—“ She had overdone it. Unable to keep the instrument stable, it snapped and she miraculously managed to shoot off the arrow. A startled Scarlet fell back into the snow as the arrow whizzed through the air toward who-knew-what.
A flurry of snow burrowed down her cloak and brushed against her bare skin. She shrieked. “Cold! So cold! It’s so cold!”
Arrow? What arrow? Heck, it didn't even matter that her precious bow had plunged itself into a nearby thorny brush. Scarlet was too preoccupied flipping over the freezing snow dripping down her spine.
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Posted: Wed Jul 13, 2011 12:57 am
Wickwright leaned against the side of the wagon as he pulled out the arrow, which was luckily not wedged too deep into the wood. When he pulled it out, however, the force was still enough to knock him back, and he landed squarely in the snow, traveling cloak splayed out behind him.
"By the bone, I'm too old for this," he muttered as he pushed himself up, rubbing his aching back. His curiosity had been piqued though, and Finch men had always let their own whims rule them, back pain or no. Clutching the arrow, he pressed forward to investigate in the face of danger, Hopking squeaking concerns behind him.
"What if it's a Cultist, Wickwright?"
"All the more reason to find out, don't you think?"
Fortunately, they didn't have to look too hard. Almost immediately there was a shriek in the distance, “Cold! So cold! It’s so cold!” Someone was out there shooting, and to make matters slightly less intimidating, they sounded to be either a girl or a young boy. Hopkin relaxed, but only just, as Wickwright crept forward until they found the source.
"Armed," Wickwright murmured. Better than an Obscuvian, but still dangerous. He remembered March too well, and he was slightly more cautious after that uneasy month. He didn't know if she shot at him because she had already seen his plague, but it couldn't hurt to take measures. "Hopkin, into my hood," he commanded. Since Wickwright was wearing a cloak, his hood was both safer and warmer than usual. Hopkin was glad for it- The last time he had to hide from armed strangers, he had to do it in the ox's mouth. This was far more comfortable.
Stepping out from behind the trees, Wickwright threw the arrow on the ground and held his hands in the air in a gesture of peace. "Beg your pardon, but I think you may have misplaced that," he offered, flashing the girl a wry grin.
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Posted: Wed Jul 13, 2011 3:22 pm
After a couple more moments of shrieking, Scarlet managed to bite back her immature whining and sit up. Her lips twisted into a grimace as she continued to feel the icy snow melting and trickling down her back. She growled, her eyes twitching. Reluctantly, she pushed herself back up and shook the snow off her clothes. A mini flurry of snow raced through her clothes and plopped to the ground. Scarlet froze, but quickly relaxed when she realized her attire no longer held any trapped snow. She searched the forest for her fallen bow and found it snuggled in the prickly leaves of a bush.
“Hmph. Lucky bow. I would’ve preferred to land in a bush rather than in a pile of snow,” Scarlet murmured enviously. She walked over, her boots awkwardly stepping one at a time. Scarlet hoped she would adapt to the frigid weather soon; she was still required to spend more time in Shyregoad before she was allowed to return to Mishkan. As she bent down to retrieve the bow, she heard another set of boots trekking nearby. She quickly put up her guard, flipping her hood over her untamed hair.
Clear blue eyes flickered over to the arrow thrown to the ground. The sight brought an amused grin to her face. “My apologies if I happened to accidentally injure someone or damage any goods. If you wish for compensation I am more than willing to grant it.” She slowly made her way over to the arrow and picked it up. A cursory examination revealed it to still be in decent condition and Scarlet smiled approvingly. “Nonetheless, I must thank you for retrieving my arrow. I have yet to hone my archery skills, you see.”
She noticed his raised arms and she chuckled, motioning for him to lower them. “I’m sorry if I worried you. I’ll assure you that I mean no harm—I’m just a young woman wishing to squeeze in some practice time.”
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Posted: Thu Aug 04, 2011 12:07 pm
Wickwright glanced back in the direction of his wagon. It was difficult to tell what she had been shooting at, but even to his untrained eye, she needed work. "Ah," he said carefully, stepping through the brush to get a little closer now that he knew her to just be a clumsy girl looking to practice, bone knew why. "What are you doing all the way out here practicing archery?" he asked. "I've been traveling in these woods for while now without seeing signs of human life, and suddenly I get shot at." He laughed to show there were no hard feelings. "It certainly made my trip more eventful. No harm done, though- you don't have any mess to clean up."
In the heed, Hopkin stared at the girl with some considerable resentment. She was pretty enough, but she had nearly killed his author and he only had one of those. If she wasn't going to fire her arrows properly, why bother to fire them at all? It seemed very imprecise and random, and he loathed both things. However, despite her transgressions, she was still pretty, and her eyes were blue like Wickwright's, and he had never seen a female archer, nor had he known such things existed. Women, or at least the ones he'd seen, did not seem very good at learning things, and Wickwright did not seem to think they were, either, so he did not know why a woman would insist on learning something dangerous. But here was one doing just that, and Hopkin dearly wanted to ask her to explain.
Not enough to come out of hiding, though. Hopkin was curious, but he was also terrified of being shot at.
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Posted: Mon Aug 08, 2011 2:41 pm
“Military business.” The flase words were already out of her mouth before she could analyze the consequences of her answer. Her eyes widened. “I mean I came to Shyregoad for military business, but I came here to the forest of my own volition.” Smiling weakly, Scarlet lifted the arrow for Wickwright to clearly see. “As you can tell, it’s a bit dangerous for me to practice with others around. For the time being, it’s safer if I practice in solitude.”
She kept a solemn gaze on the arrow in her hand. Archery had come so naturally to her younger brother. Sometimes she would catch herself staring as he easily pulled back the string, notched the arrow, and send it flying at the target in one fluid movement. Unlike Scarlet, who had to move in clunky, routine steps. Her arrow hardly even made it to her targets. Archery would probably never be her niche, not until she practiced her butt off.
Scarlet silently faced away from Wickwright and stretched out her bow. She notched the arrow and released the string. She sighed as it flew into a bush. At least this time she hadn’t fallen over. “If I recall, you said you were traveling?” Scarlet smiled amiably, tugging at the edges of her hood so it continued to hide her face. As friendly as he appeared, she still didn’t think it was wise to reveal her entire appearance. Strangers were strangers, after all. “I hope you’re enjoying your trip. It looks like you’re alone, so I suppose it must be lonely at times.”
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Posted: Mon Aug 15, 2011 12:19 pm
"He's not alone," Hopkin corrected before he could stop himself. Wickwright coughed hastily, shifting his book bag farther from their new acquaintance. "A mendicant," he informed her. "Difficult these days, but not wholly unpleasant. But military, you say!" he said hastily, eager to distract her. "Isn't that a rough sort of life?" Wickwright was mistrustful of the military after his and Hopkin's incident at the Shyregoadian border, but as far as recruits went, the lass seemed pretty green. "Why did you choose to pursue it? And why," he gestured to her weapon, "The bow? Surely there must be easier weapons for you to learn." Gunpowder based weapons were becoming popular in Mishkan, he knew, and for a lady, ease of use was surely important to consider. Why a bow, then?
Her hood was still up and he peered at her, as Hopkin did from within his hood. Hopkin wanted to see more of her face. Her figure, he was able to discern a bit- he at least knew she was flatter than the round people Wickwright sometimes spoke to, which was pleasing. She was not as flat as Alae, though. There was nothing else to think about besides her looks, as Wickwright was taking his time interrogating her, and she was hiding both what Hopkin wanted to know about her life and her appearance. Impatiently, he leaned forward to try to see more, and then something very worrying indeed happened.
Hopkin fell out.
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Posted: Fri Aug 19, 2011 11:14 am
“Did you say something?” She could have sworn she heard a voice—noticeably different from the man’s, but that was a silly thought. The voice must have been her imagination. It was only her and the man….unless someone was hiding in the foliage? Scarlet attempted to be casual as she glanced around, but she found no signs of human life. Perhaps the cold was getting to her. Her face lit up with surprise. “A mendicant, you say?” Personally, she was not particularly religious, but at times she would whisper a prayer or two when she was in a pinch. “I can only imagine how difficult it must be.” She rummaged through the pockets of her dress. “I would donate a bit, but it seems I don’t have any money on me.” Scarlet threw him a regretful smile.
“Ah, well, yes. Training can be somewhat difficult and the superiors pretty demanding—“ It wasn't too difficult to formulate an answer. She had spent one too many days watching her brother train. “—but I don’t regret joining at all.” As he questioned her decisions, Scarlet gulped and lowered her gaze to her bow. Why, indeed? “Pursue…I think I’ll leave that up to your imagination. I’m sure you can come up with a wild reason. As for the bow…” Her voice trailed off as she pointed the weapon behind the man, but luckily she opted to not load an arrow. “I was impelled to learn it.”
And then something dimly shining—like metal—tumbled out of his bag. She immediately relaxed her position and began to stroll over to scoop it up for him. “Sir, it seems you dropped something.” Her eyes narrowed curiously as she realized its humanoid shape. She stopped. “Excuse me…what is that?”
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Posted: Fri Dec 09, 2011 7:50 am
Hopkin froze as Scarlet approached him, utterly terrified after his experiences with the soldiers at the borders in March. Wickwright quickly intervened though, stepping over and picking up his limp form.
"A dead Plague," he said smoothly, brushing the snow off Hopkin, who didn't even bother to correct him for once, so great was his fear. "I am also a member of the Council, and like many of my brethren, I study Plagues." He reached around in his bag, and fortunately found the letter delivered to him on his last mission for said faction, pulling it out to show her the wax seal. "A bit morbid to carry it about, I am well aware, but when one is a mendicant, one learns to carry anything of value with them. If I lose my research, I lose everything." He laughed, and because it was Wickwright, it sounded jovial despite the situation. "Have you been greatly affected by the Plague? I hope to aid those men in finding a cure, though of course I am greatly aged and know little about this newfangled art of dabbling. Back when I was a boy, we had the mages to solve the mysteries of the world! These days, I suppose that isn't enough."
In his hands, the book boy scarcely breathed, but stared at Scarlet openly, not having to worry about being betrayed by eyes he didn't have. Just moments ago she seemed most lovely, but now her visage was full of danger, and he found that he quite preferred her from afar. Woman or not, she was still a soldier. Oh, why was she a soldier! Women should not be in such confusing careers, he decided that he did not like it at all. If she had simply been a seamstress or such, he would not have to keep so still, and could speak to her properly. As it was, he became embroiled in Wickwright's uncomfortable lies.
"It's unfortunate to carry regrets. I myself have more than my share, I'm glad your relatively unburdened. What of the chaos in March? Were you much busy then?"
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Posted: Mon Dec 19, 2011 8:46 pm
At the mention of ‘plague’ Scarlet’s hand frantically recoiled and she took multiple steps back, her boots crunching. She cradled her hand as she eyed the Plague with wary eyes, perhaps even with grim bitterness. “A member of the Council, you say?” She glanced at Wickwright and his letter before returning her gaze to Hopkin, unable to tear her eyes away from the thing for long. Her lips twisted into a disgusted frown. “That certainly explains why you have that Plague, but are you sure it’s safe to handle those things?” Scarlet cast her gaze to the ground as images of her younger brother flashed in her mind. She gripped the bow tighter. “Are you sure it still doesn’t have the disease?”
She protectively kept her bow at her side as she took another step backwards. “Well, be careful with that Plague of yours. It could cause a panic if you’re not careful enough,” she warned. Scarlet pulled her lips into a thin line upon hearing his inquiry. “It got my brother.” Her face twisted into an unreadable expression. The elderly doctor’s words from back then echoed in her thoughts, I’m sorry, but your brother died from the plague and his wounds. “And I’m sure sometime in the future mages and scientists won’t be enough either. I wonder what new faction will step in then?” Scarlet didn’t intend to sound hateful, but if only the silly mages and scientists could have found a cure, then her brother…
She mentally reprimanded herself and turned around. “Unfortunate, indeed.” Again, Scarlet raised her bow and this time imagined an arrow shaft held between her fingers. “As busy as all the other soldiers, but we managed somehow. And for yourself? Did you manage well during that time?” When she looked back at the older man she made sure not to stare at the Plague in his grasp.
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 12:57 am
"No," Wickwright said hastily, inventing on the spot, "Which is why only I handle it, as I'm the most well qualified to do such things. Anyway, this one is a phasmas, so it's not as dangerous as the caedos. It's the little dark ones that you need to look out for. I would study the pale ones, but they're hard to come by alive, let alone dead." He nodded fervently at her warning. "Oh, I usually keep it well wrapped up. It was merely my surprise that caused me to meet you without putting it properly away."
He felt a stab of guilt as she mentioned her brother, guilt for lying to her, and the vague, fuzzy, secondhand guilt that came of being a Grimm. It was hard not to feel at fault somehow for every Plague death whilst carrying around a living embodiment of that very disease. The fact of the matter was Hopkin was not a dead Plague, and it was his own charity that was keeping the strange little thing alive. "I am sorry to hear about your sibling. The Plague has claimed many of my peers, I hope that a cure is found soon." That, at least, was accurate in every way.
Hopkin shuddered almost invisibly as Scarlet mentioned the events of March, and Wickwright reflected on the fool's errand that had preoccupied most of the month for him. "It was hard going," he admitted, a grimace creasing his weathered features. "I was surprised to find myself alive and well after all was said and done, but what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, and when you have lived as long as I, you get strong indeed." He paused for moment, and amended, "At least before the ache sets in." Old men with old limbs could only be especially strong in the mental sense. "Even now though, the Council keeps me at my labours. What of you? Your business, did it take long?"
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Posted: Sun Jan 01, 2012 5:01 pm
It put her at ease to learn that Wickwright was the only man who willingly handled dead Plagues. If she met another stranger who was a scientist, Scarlet would know he or she didn’t dabble with death as closely as the elder man did. She furrowed her brows at the terms. They sounded familiar. Perhaps a family member or acquaintance had used it before, but it must not have been very important to the woman. “Phasmas? Caedos?” They were names that involved the plagues, possibly arranging them by appearance because he spoke of dark and light plagues. She was sure of at least that. She bowed her head lightly. “I’m sorry for startling you.”
He shouldn’t be too guilty. Scarlet was partially lying herself. She wasn’t actually part of the Imperial Guard, at least not yet. While she had considered joining the guard on multiple occasions, her archery skills were too subpar for her to bring herself to enlist at the moment. “It’s not your fault,” she reassured him. “The Plague is a horrible disease and does not discriminate. Hopefully a cure is out there somewhere.” She didn’t sound too optimistic.
An amused grin settled on her thin lips. “Strong. Really?” She examined the man from head to toe. He said he was strong, but strong in what sense, exactly? Mentally? Spiritually? It didn’t appear that he meant physically, or perhaps Scarlet was getting too cocky, a young woman looking down on an elder. “Aches, hm? How about we find a spot to rest to ease your pains?” She laughed and kept calmly smiling at the mention of her business. “Oh, not too long. I’ve been shooting for a while.” Scarlet raised her bow. “Haven’t made much progress though.” She grinned wryly. “I’m sure you can attest to that.”
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Posted: Sun Feb 12, 2012 1:41 pm
"A Phasmas is like this little thing," Wickwright replied breezily, dangling Hopkin by a foot in front of her. "You can recognize them, they don't have anything resembling eyes, and the little bastards will never grow up into anything that can spread Plague! That is, if they survive long enough to grow at all. Caedos, those are the black ones with eyes, and if you let one, it'll grow into a plague-spreading Inifitialis. Nasty things. Then there's the white ones with dark eyes though, and those grow into Locos. They cure the Plague if you let them, so I suppose those are the ideal kind."
He laughed. "A little startling is always fine with me, I suppose." Now that there was a cover to explain Hopkin, Wickwright was far more at ease. "But sitting down and resting would suit me down to the ground. My wagon's back that way, if you'd like. You can take a break, and I can tell you a bit more about Plagues if you're keen on them. They're an interesting race all right. The other Scientists up in Gadu, they think that studying them might give us a cure. What do you think?" He hefted Hopkin into a more secure position, putting the Plague back in his bag. Hopkin, back out of sight, let out a heavy sigh of relief, and scrambled into the safety of the rags he used as blankets. This woman was dangerous, and Hopkin would rather have her think him dead than alive. Still though, the lie made him uncomfortable, and he quietly whispered, "I'm not dead," just to correct the untruth Wickwright had been rather forced to tell. It was his fault that they had to do it, he supposed, and he felt frustrated over it, like an itch he wasn't allowed to scratch.
"Do you think they have any use to them? Or are they just a hassle, after all?"
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Posted: Sun Feb 19, 2012 4:08 pm
Scarlet attempted to be partially interested by his mini-lecture, but only managed to come off as disinterested at best. It was more probable she appeared bored, perhaps even annoyed by the deluge of information. She possessed no desire to learn about Plagues. Maybe in the vague future she would be willing to listen to what Wickwright had to say about the creatures of death, but right now she wanted to avoid them like the…well, Plague. Most of his words flew over her head, but the last bit of the white Plagues managed to snag her attention for a couple seconds. Cure the Plague? Now, that was something she could advocate, even if it was a Plague.
She shifted in place, amiable to the idea of finding a place to sit and rest until he yet again mentioned the magic word. Her nose crinkled, thin fingers pulling the hood over the top half of her face to mask the look of disdain spreading across her features. “No, that is quite alright. Since I am not a scientific sort, I have no interest in learning about Plagues at the moment,” Scarlet informed him in a polite tone. “While I do not reject the possibility that studying them will yield promising results, they simply aren’t my cup of tea.” Her eyes gleamed in the shadows of her cloak. She eyed the dead Plague as the man deposited it into his bag. It was certainly shiny—and she liked shiny things—but even her kleptomaniac tendency wouldn’t reach for it.
Scarlet put away her bow, strapping it to her back before she walked over to retrieve her fallen arrows. “If they can cure the Plague, they’re useful. If they can’t, they’re a hassle. Whichever happens is up to fate.” She tugged again at her cloak before she flashed him a small grin. “I think I should be on my way now. I’ve been out here for quite a while; I should be returning back to the inn.”
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