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 Posted: Mon Nov 14, 2011 2:45 pm
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Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2011 12:12 am
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Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2011 12:13 am
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Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2011 12:15 am
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Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2011 12:19 am
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Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2011 12:20 am
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Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2011 12:23 am
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BASICS
Name: Evangeline Gabel (He prefers to be called ‘Evan’)
Age: 25
Intended Faction: Imperial Guard
Region: Auvinus (outskirts)
Font: #3EA99F
PERSONALITY
Evan’s grandfather describes the youngest Gabel as as a “flexible and stupid boy”. His grandfather’s accusation isn’t entirely false; Evan has a hard time remembering something if he lacks interest in the subject (and he has very few interests that motivate him). Though he doesn’t mind having duties, his attention span runs short (as does his memory). He’ll often accept a chore or errand to run yet find himself doing something leisurely when the time comes, because he simply forgets. When asked, his answer is little more than a shrug and nonchalant admission of forgetfulness. This attitude is also why Evan is more capable of and susceptible to compromise. Since he is forgetful he has no qualms with someone changing the terms of an agreement. As long as a person does not challenge his intelligence, he will listen to their case.
Evan’s grandfather felt that the boy wasn’t as promising as his elder sister (from a young age), therefore, he was instead taught ethics over intellect. Because of the disagreements Evan shared with his grandfather, only a few of the elder Gabel’s lessons were successfully adopted. Among Evan’s learnings were not to ask for anything and to modestly decline gifts. This is partially because the Gabels’ earnings were never truly sufficient to pay back gifts, but also because his grandfather wanted him to value self-reward. Rather than ask for things, Evan had to work for them, including his own meals from his grandfather. Unfortunately, Evan’s work ethic is less than stellar. Unless given some motivator, he only meets the minimum requirements to get a pass from his grandfather for his bare necessities (and sometimes the rare reward of spending money). Evan figures that he earns enough to live by and doesn’t aim to improve his working attitude. Because he doesn’t earn much, he doesn’t empathize with luxury or even excess. He hasn’t seen enough of Panymium to identify wealth when he sees it, but he knows the rich exist. To him, the upper class are like mythical beasts that he hopes to meet one day.
Even if Evan is capable of compromise, he’ll refuse to do it if he feels that the person is threatening him. His most practiced habit would be cutting people off. Ironically, one of his pet peeves is being interrupted by other people (particularly when he's in the middle of a long conversation). He justifies his own hypocrisy with the idea that his point is superior. He’s aware that he isn’t erudite so he feigns worldly knowledge. His insecurity with his own knowledge causes him to cling to views. Often, his grandfather describes him as being “as stubborn and lame as a mule” during arguments due to their mutual inability to concede to an argument (or allow a rebuttal). His arguments only end in a stalemate with both sides back at square one. His verbal aggression is his primary defense mechanism when prodded too much. He reasons that if he cuts them off first they won’t be able to see through his own words and thus, not see him as stupid as he actually is. His secondary defense mechanism is natural suspicion. He fears that others will try to take advantage of his naivete, and probably succeed.
Although Evan may appear to come off poorly with people, if given the opportunity, he’ll try to play the role of the “big damn hero” even if he doesn’t match the wit for it. His sister claims this is what “makes him a dear”, but he combats the comment with the rebuttal that “it’s a social responsibility”. Evan also harbors a strong envy for those with experience and the ability to sustain themselves with complete independence. He’ll never admit it, but he knows that he relies on his grandfather, especially when it comes to reading his parents’ letters. He’s also jealous of literate folk, being semi-illiterate himself, he tries to avoid circumstances where he’s required to write. Evan may be somewhat timid, but nevertheless, he’s always been curious despite. He’s heard of the Panymese regions he’s never seen before because his parents write about them in their letters.
Insecurity and aggression are sometimes obscured by Evan’s laid back nature. There is no use in getting too worked up over small things like crop quotas or a clean house. What really matters are the different places he visualizes. If he’s pulled from his daydreams his energy level isn’t much higher. He always works at the bare minimum, doing only what is required of him each day. He is often compared to one of the farm’s mules (also named ‘Evangeline’) who is praised as being a harder worker. Despite the comparison, Evan remains nonchalant in order to keep his worries low and his happiness high. He shouldn’t care that a mule is considered more useful than he is. He shouldn’t care that he has the memory of a fish. Letting those things weigh him down only makes more trouble so he buries those thoughts as far down as possible, and he tries to forget them which encourages his abridged memory. Instead of remembering things that disappoint him or depress him, Evan prefers to create new thoughts that invigorate him. He keeps a (poorly written) journal about his personal accounts and adventures in Panymium, most of them being works of fiction, inspired by the letters and places that his parents traveled to and the few memories Evan had when he still traveled with them. . Evan longs for the call to adventure more than anything, but he won’t willingly follow the call unless he has someone to accompany him that has potential for him to depend on. If he does find someone who enjoys his company, he will stick to them like a dear friend. Having a companion makes him feel more secure, particularly if they absorb what he says. He is a willing teacher to anyone who lends him an ear (though what he teaches isn’t necessarily sound) no matter how young or old they are. Evan’s dependency leaves him grounded at the farm, since without his grandfather or sister, he figures he can’t go very far, though he wishes he could.
Appearance: Evan’s body is that of a working-class man. His hands are calloused, and the rest of him muscled and tanned. His hair remains black, unskillfully cut short (with the longest hairs reaching his chin), and messily covering his forehead. Gray eyes are his window to the world, located above a pair of tight lips. He often bruises his arms and legs from farmwork, but he’s improved in keeping his body out of harm lately.
Alternate Theme: Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons
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Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2011 12:25 am
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FAMILY
Theresa Gabel (mother)- Living; Current Age: 47
Jacob Gabel (father)- Living; Current Age: 48
Melissa Gabel (eldest sister)-Deceased; Age of Death" 28
Lander Gabel (older brother)-Living; Current Age: 33
Jeffery Gabel (grandfather)-Living; Current Age: 65
Jeane Gabel (grandmother)-Living; Current Age: 62
Jeffery Gabel’s Journal
July, 21, 1391
Gabel Farm is peaceful today. I sit in the front of the barn, writing this. This is very nice, just the way it is like this. Lander has Melissa and Evan in his lap, one resting on each thigh. Evan is telling them a story about Helen the Warrior Princess, Evan the Hero, and the brave Liesander Dragon. Children of the heat and children of the wheat. The trio are deeply attached to one another, their lives embedded into the rolling hills surrounding the farm. My daughter-in-law and son are rarely people of the hills anymore, they are more outside than in; they are merely vessels used to deliver Gabel Farm’s goods and act as one of Panymium’s traveling markets. They write differently now. The rustic voice has been substituted for an urban one and their letters are the masters of brevity. Where they have gone, what transactions have been made, when they will return, and the simple and bitter question of: how old are our children? It is my task to remember and it is my task to raise these children tall and high until the sun can touch them. They are my wheat and they are my agriculture.
A large fence system encircles the Gabel Farm with a single gate alone. Only one of them will leave it without turning cheek one day. Lander is a clever boy, his potential obvious to me. He is a involved boy and an analytical boy. Reality is his home and his partner. Nothing has broken down yet because Lander will not allow it. He works too much for the farm and I notice this. How can anyone not notice Lander Gabel? He is everywhere, hands on with skilled fingers. This is not a place for him; he is better than all of us and he must go seek what it is he may achieve. He will be the sun that illuminates all of Gabel Farm once he returns from his apprenticeships. In a few months, he must depart to fulfill himself. I have discussed this with him. He will leave when he turns 18 to take on a plethora of apprenticeships. He will return with his knowledge to improve Gabel Farm. The other two will not go. Only Lander Gabel will pass the gate without turning cheek. Melissa is a clever girl, but in a different way than her elder brother. She is blessed with a quill, everything she words in ink is wonderful and beautiful. If given a book, she will memorize it from cover to cover. She is thoughtful and the best vessel of advice on the farm. We need her a little longer and she has no intention on leaving anytime soon. She is allowed to leave, but chooses not to. She intends on staying with Evan, afraid that if she departed immediately, that the youngest Gabel would be most upset. Melissa is a sweet girl, we are fortunate to have her as a Gabel and not as anyone else.
Evan Gabel is another sort altogether. He is neither as motivated as Melissa in her education nor Lander in his potential fulfillment. Evan doesn’t always pays attention whenever I speak to him and though his siblings attempt to educate him, their efforts seem to be in vain. To Evan, Lander and Melissa are only Liesander Dragon and Helen; comrades in fun and fantasy, mouths that read him stories. How can I allow such a stupid boy the possibility of leaving Gabel Farm? He is the only one who cannot and should not leave. He would die in the Panymese wilderness without a sibling holding his hand or my reprimanding. Stupid, stupid boy. At least, if he remains, there will be an heir to the Gabel Farm after Lander and Melissa are off in their pursuit. A final Gabel, the gift of remnant. If he was purposely made stupid for the sake of rooting him, then I am grateful for his flaws.
Jeffery Gabel
Evan Gabel Attack of the Messila MonstersToday Evan went to the store becaus he wantd to buy a new pichfork becaus his old one was broken by Liesander Dragon. He was being big, ugly, and mean. So he bought one with his milions of shilings and this one becam real hot at the tips and breathd purple firey blasts. Evan took the fork and he ran to the Heleos Forest, the sun forest if you don't know what Helos means. It was real brite everywhere and golden. The trees were made of gold. The leaves too. The dirt was a chrom color. But nothing was shineing. Everything was just bright. Someone stole the shineing ball.
It was the Melissa Monsters! They were long dresses and had no shoos. They were able to fly without wings and they kiled you by kissing your cheek. They are biches, but I can't use the word biches because it is bad. They growld and were furry and sloberd. They said tha tEvan was stupid. There STUPID. Evan walkd in the forest and a Messila monster jumpd out. Evan stabbed it in the tummy and it yeled and disapeered in a puf of smoke. 1 down. Evan continud and then he found the Melissa monster standing two hundred feet tall. it was enormus.
"Give it back you best!" Evan said real loud. His voice boomed.
"No I will not. I will kil you with my minyons." it roared back. A bunch of girls appeared and they did not look like bichs. They looked like normal humans so Evan couldn't kil them like he wanted to. Kiling humans was bad. And he could not hit girls. His grandpa said it was bad. His father said it was bad too. So they attackd him and they all kissd him everywhere and it was gross. 2 of them draggd him toward a barn. They said they were goign to trap him there forever. But then the Liesander Dragon flew and breathed hot water on the girls and they were dead. But Evan was also becaus he was weak to human girl kisses. So Liesander Dragon was really mad and he breathed cold fire on the Messila monster so then Evan came back to life and found the shineing ball inside her so everyone was happy. They livd happily ever after!
Lander Gabel's Journal
February 4, 1396
Evan and I are tagging along with my parents, rather were, on a trip. I was assigned the task of watching over him whilst the two of them continued their sales. I knew that today would be my last day to play with Evan so I wanted to make the most of it. I let him lead me to a forest near the outskirts of the capital. He wanted to play make believe again, pretending that I was some dragon that he needed to slay. Though the fight was fake, I’ll have to admit that Evan is not an easy boy to catch. He is very fast and very slippery, which he claims is his strategy. He told me to wait by the willow tree for our fight. When he returned, I cried out in alarm when I saw that he’d drenched himself with lake water from head to toe--making him the “Evan the Hero that can harness water’s "escapery” He kept challenging me to more and more games, all of which I could have played until the end of the day, but we were already late.
When we came back, Grandfather berated the both of us, demanding to know who caused the both of us to be late for dinner. Evan confessed truthfully, not shying away from his crime or the smack to the back of his head. I wanted to object, but Melissa tapped me on the shoulder, giving me a look. I nodded subtly and waited until everyone left to speak to Evan.
“Listen Evan, I’m going on an adventure,” I started, on one knee. “..and I don’t plan on returning for a long time. It’s a very important adventure.”
He put both hands on my knee and peered up at me to get a better look. He laughed.
“An adventure? Can I come?” he asked, “Where are you going?”
“Well Evan, this adventure is only for me,” I said, bracing myself for the words that would be coming next. I had rehearsed this conversation many times in my head the week before in preparation for this moment. Evan was not Melissa, he could not take everything lightly.
“Only you? Why you? I thought we were supposed to do things together! Like brothers!” he protested. His little fingernails dug into the skin of my knee, and I winced a bit. “You’re Liesander Dragon! Without Liesander Dragon, Evan the Hero is weak.”
“I’m not Liesander Dragon. I’m Lander. And I’m not the little kid I was before,” I answered, trying my very best to sound cross, “I can’t just stay here and mess around with you. Pretending that the forest is something more than a group of goddamn trees. I’m nearly an adult now.”
He continued to scream so I shouted over him: “LOOK EVAN. THERE IS NOTHING FOR ME HERE, EVEN GRANDFATHER SAYS SO--”
“--EVIL! EVIL! EVIL!“
I tried to keep my voice level, but I could still see the hurt in Evan’s eyes. He kept breathing, pretending that he was not on the verge of tears. His nails dug in harder. This was good.
“You’re not a dragon! You’re a monster. Liesander MONSTER!,” he cried out, “YOU’RE EVIL! EVIL! EVIL! EVILl!”
It isn’t as if this by my own choice; the decision was “unanimous” in that grandfather and father both felt that my potential could be expanded beyond the farm alone. Since I have finished my homeschooling, I am to take apprenticeships in other regions and return to Auvinus when I am more skilled and proficient. I would then return when I have learned enough to bring back to Gabel Farm and improve it. Of course, Evan will not take this well. He’s too young to understand the economics of it. Despite that he has Melissa to keep him company, the masculinity of our games cannot be imitated by her. There’s a certain feminine touch to everything Melissa does, and while Evan and I love her dearly, we both well know that playing with me and playing with her are different entities in themselves. I had meant for him to hate me so that he would not miss me.
Evan Gabel Lander is a BUTTFACE
Evan Slays a Monster Evan the fiften yer old farm boy shot his gun into the sky III (numberals) times. The bullets expolded into fiery puffs. They were red and blue, her favorite colors.
He had fiften more rounds before he had to relode his gun, his father got it for him from Mishkan. I hate you Liesander Monster, he thought. Why did you leaf us? Why did you leaf me? I thought we were BROTHERS. No one else was there except a tmo stone. He red the inscripsion to himself, biting back tears.
"Here lays Melissa Helen Adams.
Dawhter, Friend, Wif."
HERO he thought as he shot another bullet. If grandpa could see him now he would be disapointed and call him stupid. He was disapointed in Helen too. They were ALL supposed to leaf the FORBIDDEN TOWER together. THey fought a dragon, a basilisk, and saved the princes togethr, just like in the stories Helen red to him as a kid. Liesander was suposed to ride in and help them but insted he did not and they did not. Liesander was a traitor, a MONSTER. He left the so he could travel on his own. Evan hatd him. He was why Helen got killed.
"IT SHOULD HAVE BEN YOU!" Evan yeled to the skis.
"I had no chois." Liesander came out of the shadows with a boq boka boquay bunch of dandy lions. "It's not my falt I'm smart and gramps wants me to leave."
"Liar! lying Liesander!" Evan aimed his gun at the monster. "Those aren't even the rite flowers. Jerk. You were glad I didn't come."
Evan let out five shots, all colord blue into Liesander, but he was still standing. Then, they lit him on FIRE!
"It wasn't my falt. It wasn't my falt. It wasn't my falt."
Those words repeeted over and over, real quiet as Liesander became all smoky, like he was disapearing.
"It should have ben you."
Melissa Gabel's Journal
March 12, 1401
Today my mother and father came to visit, taking a short break from their inter-regional sales in order to restock their inventory. As always, they returned with souvenirs from their travels, an anthology for me and a puzzle box for my fifteen-year old brother. Lander was occupied with his apprenticeship so I knew that he would not write back for a very long time. I attempted to give my parents a warm welcome (as I always did), but Evan was silent. Evan has always attempted to seem calm when (in reality) he was simmering. Being a few years older, I understood why Mother and Father needed to be away from the farm most of the year and I am fine with that, but Evan is not me. They left an hour after they’d arrived, just enough time to pack what was needed for their next departure. Grandfather doesn’t seem to have much affection with his own son and my mother any longer. Everything seems so businesslike. He told me to “help those two mules and return when you complete the task.” He hasn’t spoken to mother and father in four years. Evan hasn’t either. Mother called me “Mary” today. She called me “Mathilde” last month.
She doesn’t remember Evangeline. She’s a clever woman so she’s careful with how she asks.
“How is your brother?”
I am tempted to ask “Evangeline or Lander?” but I don’t.
Evan still asks me what Lander is doing despite giving mother and father the silent treatment and I can only reread him the letters that he has sent Evan over the course of the year. They are often quite rushed, perhaps an indicator to how busy my brother is with his many apprenticeships. Sometimes he asks if he can do what Lander does, but Grandfather answers with adamant restriction. Evan may rave about how he hates his brother, but he is always eager to have a letter read to him when it comes. I know from his stories that he does not feel as he acts, always trying to implement “Liesander Dragon (now Monster)” into his stories no matter how brutal the ending.
Evan wants to be with his brother, traveling Panymium. He does not yet understand his place in the Gabel family, nor his status as the dominant farm hand once Grandfather is no longer able to help. Once I have finished my self-tutelage, I too will leave Gabel Farm and move to a university in order to study and become a scientist. I hope for his sake that he is able to move on in his own way.
Evan Gabel Jar of Harts
Evan Adams was angry. Real angry. He was a ghost. Someone stol his body. They separatd his hart and hid it somewhere so he couldn’t make his body solid and stay. His hart was important becaus it was the only thing that kept him anchord to his body. He needd to find someone to get him a new body until he could find his old one but he couldn’t ask Helen becaus Helen was dead. She couldn’t help him anymore. He couldn’t find the Liesander monster. And the magic nun was marryd to God.
He was alon.
He floatd slowly, real slow down the cobbl ston path. It led to a scary city. It was raining too. The city was full of monsters but he didn’t care. He just wantd to find a real smart guy. There were green guys and blue guys and rats and rabbits and wolfs. But he couldn’t find any people. There was a crow raven crow raven looking at him with read eyes. It cawd at him to come closer. Evan did that and it started to speak Payamese.
“Who dare ask for the RAEVN?”
“I do. I want to find my heart. Do you know where it is?”
“I do, but all good things have prices”
“What do you want?”
“I want a bag of wind.”
“I don’t have a bag of wind. But I can get you a bag of wind.”
“Okay, then I will tell you where your hart is.” And then the crow told him where it was. It was in the cellar of a haunted mansion. There was an evil scientist inside. He was real powerful, but Evan could take him. So Evan went to the mansion and he found the scientist and asked for his hart back. The scientist didn’t want to give it back so the two of them fought, but none of them could hurt eachother. So Evan decided to look for his heart instead and found it on a shelf so he picked it up and felt himself becoming whole. He was human again, but the scientist stabbed him in the back when he was not looking, killing him.
“I guess you are back where you startd.” the RAEVN cawd a while later.
“I guess I am.” Evan replid.
Lander Gabel’s Journal
August 12, 1410
For the first time in many years I visited the Gabel Farm, dressed in my Imperial Guard uniform for everyone to see. Those who knew me reacted with surprise, but those who did not simply noticed the new contraption I carried in my hand. Despite my years in the military I was nervous to see my family, especially my grandfather. As far as everyone knew, I was simply returning from my apprenticeship of a family friend; however, he knew the truth (I assume my first mentor wrote a letter). A year after my first apprenticeship for a metalsmith in Imisus, I grew bored of the discipline and fled the smirthery. I learned all that I could from the man before I left and mastered my craft. I would have no regrets.
The Imperial Guard was cutting through the town when I saw one the units marching. I grew absolutely enamored with the appearance of the guard and how exciting it seemed to join the military. I was young at the time, younger than perhaps the youngest recruit but I knew that I wanted to enter no matter the cost. Since my grandfather planned to pay my mentors in grain, I decided to take the remaining portion (not already paid to my metalsmith mentor) and run off toward the lieutenant in charge. He was skeptical due to my age, but my “payment” convinced him otherwise and I was able to start my training, which brings me to where I am now.
No one else knows that I diverted from my original apprenticeship, but I hoped that they will understand once I explained to them my circumstances.
When I arrived at the farm, time to seem slow down as everyone realized what I was wearing. The elaborate jacket and tie tipped people off to my true career and Evan dropped the pail of water he was fetching. I was used to the awed stares, but Evan’s reaction was something that I did not anticipate. He was grown now, possibly twenty-four years of age yet he still ran over, enraptured by my garb. He became inquisitive, constantly asking why I joined and where I have traveled to. In fact, the reaction was the exact opposite of how my grandfather reacted.
He was livid, demanding that I repay every grain of wheat I handed over to the military. I recall him nearly throwing me into the pig pen. Like Evan he asked me “why”. “Why did you join the army?” “Why did you come back?” “How dare you have the audacity to walk back here in your uniform?”
We argued deliberated about my situation, Melissa leading Evan away from the scene, before we came to a quiet truce. Everyone else was proud after all, neither of us should ruin that.
After all the celebratory gestures were finished, I decided to show everyone my new invention. I still retained my metalsmithing skills even though I did not practice them for many years so I decided to forge a gift to make up for my absence and repay the farm (to no success). I called it a “weather vane” due to its ability to indicate the wind patterns and the pieces of metal that sit precariously atop one another. Auvinus had never seen a device like the one I made before and every farm I knew flocked to me in order to commission one of their own. I honestly felt proud of myself, but once the celebration was over, I noticed a change in Evan’s behavior. Instead of the welcome I received the day before, he was suddenly cold to me. I knew that he wanted to speak to me (Evan was never a good liar), but he simply threw me looks of pain. Still, I ended up talking to him about my adventures in the military and how exciting it was to travel all over Panymium in exchange for him telling me how he felt.
He didn’t, not until the next night. At the dinner table, he continued to ask me more questions about the Imperial Guard...until Grandfather cut him off.
“Lander you did this,” he accused, “you spoiled the boy’s head with ludicrous ideas about the military. You know that he cannot move beyond that gate. He wouldn’t be able to.”
“I did not do anything other than educate him on my own future,” I replied coolly. After our argument I had no more qualms about my decision to join.
“Future? Why else did we send you away under those mentors’ tutelage? To end up as stupid as Evan? YOU HAD POTENTIAL, BOY! YOU COULD HAVE GONE BEYOND AUVINUS-- .”
“WHO SAYS EVAN IS AS STUPID AS YOU MAKE OF HIM?” I roared back, noticing Evan shrink back. I restrained myself and clenched firmly onto the table’s sides, “...He shouldn’t even be here. He has so much more to do beyond this farm.”
I hoisted my rucksack over my shoulder, turning to my two siblings.
“I am sorry, but I can’t deal with my grandfather any longer. I will write to you Mel, but Evan... If you keep absorbing your grandfather’s words you will only prove him right. At least you can make something of yourself in the guard. You’ll be able to travel like you always wanted. I’m not asking you to join, but I’m giving you a choice which is more than Grandfather ever did.”
I then began to cry. It must have been a shock to Melissa and Evan. They’d never seen me cry before and I never intended on letting them do so. In retrospect, it was inevitable and perhaps better that I did so. I stopped myself after a few minutes of precipitation. Melissa rubbed my back and I stood there limply.
I spoke.
It was all more directed at my younger brother. I screamed a bit, and he looked afraid, but it was good that he was afraid.
“What’s your purpose for staying? To be called stupid? To do stupid work because you’re stupid? In the Imperial Guard you’re assigned a purpose worth living for, you see things worth seeing, you preserve the land and people worth preserving.”
I only stared at him. He could only stare back.
“Evan... I serve because I want to preserve Evan and Melissa’s way of life. I can fight for this. I can’t fight for Gabel Farm--it’s not worth the fight. But the two of you...the two of you are worth it in every possible way. But you, Evan...you like this... Is this your way of life? Is this how you want to live? Is this what I’m preserving? Is this what the Emperor’s subjects are meant for?”
“Oh, Lander--” Melissa began but I jumped onto my steed before she could reach me once more. I snapped the reins.
After that night I never thought of Gabel Farm again. It wasn’t worth it. Wasn’t worth the fight.
Evan Gabel King of the CasleTrumpets blard real loud as the Liesander monster came back. He was much bigger now. He was real big and real smart, not liek Evan. Everyone in Avinis cheered for him. They thought he was real special becaus he made a new invension. Evan didn't CARE. It was a stupid- spinny-sky-teller. It went around in CIRCOS whenever the wind blew. Evan didn't understand how it was supposed to be useful.
"Oh Liesander, you are so wonderful! You are so great!" one woman shoutd.
"Glad to have you back!" A serf said.
Evan was not there for the arival though. He was still busy working on the fields. He had to becaus he was the stupid Gabel child. He couldn't make spinny-sky-tellers. They called it a "whether vein" but it didn't bleed and it wasn't all about themself either. He didn't understand the name at all!
They had a feast and Evan was real somber. He was quiet like last time he saw Liesander. But then it became real loud real fast becaus Liesander becam angry. So he stormd off to the forest and said he wasn't hungry. Evan went after him and when they were at the forest Evan playd a trick on Liesander by pushing him into the silver lake!
"Ahahaha Liesander! I got the drop on you again!!"
"I'd expect nothing less from the Mishkan sea monster!"
"I'm the greatest water warrior of all!"
Liesander drew his blade out, a smil on his face.
"I never DID get back at you for shooting me."
"You deservd it you scoundrel!" Evan exclaimd, "you left me to die."
"I had to choice. I told you everyone said it was for the best!" Liesander said defensivly.
"But still!" Evan protested, "I wantd to go!"
"You still can!" Liesander exclaimd, "just take my hand."
Liesander outstretchd his hand but Evan hesitatd.
"I'm scard."
"Don't be."
Jeffery Gabel’s Diary
October 15, 1411
A silence has fallen over the farm. I have no doubt that Evangeline is getting little to no work done since the night before. That stupid boy. The famine is not shedding mercy on Gabel Farm, and I reckon the boy and his sister can’t offer much to ease it. Hell, I can’t do much to ease it. The surplus from the previous harvest can only last the three of us for so long, and occasionally Theresa and Jacob return to bring some of the remnants for their travels. Hunting would do us no use. The animals in the forest are plagued and leaving the farm is altogether a danger. I fear we cannot even trust neighboring farms. Thieves are more wicked and adept in these black-shroud days. The Nills’ farm not too far from our own was ravaged by hooligans, bad in their plunder. Everything gone, so I heard. Hooligans are fellow farmers, I heard too.
Bless the King in this time of peril. None of us know if Lander is well. No letters in four months. The curse only became heavier with the storm from yesterday. It was an ugly matter, the storm. It was no wonder we did not predict it, for our weather vane failed to forsee it. I told the boy to go check the barn’s roof to see what the fuss was. The idiot boy. He thought I meant the mule. It pains me. The mule cannot climb the barn stairs. It wasn’t an incorrect answer, the boy is quite the mule.
The discovery was a dark one. Dead birds, the boy reckons, dead for weeks. They landed on the vane (or was it perhaps near the vane? They’d fallen off it, so both are reasonable guesses) for relief for resting or dying. Perhaps they were ill. Upon closer inspection, all three inquiries Melissa made were correct. Something attacked the birds, bigger bird. Hawk? They were slightly mangled, but of course only Evangeline would not notice such a disfigurement. He merely saw “bird” and registered the scene as “Grandfather, there are birds on the roof.” He never mentioned if they were live or dead birds. I am a man of reason, not one of religion. If I were the latter, I would pray to a god to help my grandson.
I could not have predicted any of this. Not the famine, nor the storm. I am only human, but the oracle of metal, once a reliable friend, is now covered with the stigma of something black and putrid. I told the boy to throw it out, as it seems it is too affected by the blackness to function.
If Lander ever returns, it is critical that he forges a new one. I inquire that this could very much be my punishment for what I have done to Lander. I am only human. I cannot predict everything.
________ Gabel’s Diary
The world slowed to a crawl on the afternoon of October 21, 1411. Both Evangelines were particularly stubborn that day. It was Evan’s duty to take Evangeline out to the fields so that she could help plough the fields for the season since everything was already harvested. However, Evangeline had other plans. She wanted to continue eating, still hungry from her last excursion. She wasn’t willing to budge, but Evan wasn’t either. He jerked her reins with as much force as he could muster to no avail, serving only to incite the mule’s anger. Melissa ran over in her eagerness to aid.
What was she doing?
Though her intent was to help, Evangeline’s rage left her too blind to indicate where, rather who she was kicking. She released a powerful kick that sent Melissa to the ground, spilling the sweet Gabel’s hair over the barn floor. A pitchfork dropped to the ground and the sound of desperate feet dashing could be heard. Everyone in the vicinity rushed over to examine the woman, whispering to themselves that Melissa tripped--fell by herself--couldn’t die. Blood ran down the side of her head and what seemed to be bone was jutting out. The kick had injured Melissa beyond any available repair. By now she had lost consciousness (perhaps for the better) and it would be only moments before she reached her death. Evan was frozen, only able to watch the scene unfold as one of the farmhands tried desperately to wake her. There was no response, only a silence that encapsulated the entire farm. Melissa Gabel stopped smiling today. Melissa Gabel stopped walking today. Melissa Gabel was gone today.
Later that night a gunshot could be heard as a stoic-looking Jeffery walked away from the barnyard. The mule received its share. Silence settled over the Gabel Farm, except for the hushed sobs of the remaining Evangeline Gabel. He did not cry for the mule. She deserved it. He cried for himself, who should have prevented it.
Evan Gabel Tandem
Evan did not like visiting the city with Ernest instead of Helen. He was with Ernest now becus Helen was dead. Ernest was real earnest but Ernest was always mad. He calld Evan a donkey and said that he was why Ernest lost his hair even though Ernest is a ten-milion year old man. Keeping his hair would be strange. He is human also, but he doesn’t die. He gains power by being real angry. He gets a lot of power from Evan. At the market Ernest did most of the work by selling grain and selling meat becaus Evan was bad with customers but Evan wasn’t good at maths either. He had to count using his fingers and that was real embarasing when he got it wrong becaus the numbers were too larg.
Ernest also calld Evan a “dumass” but Evan didn’t know what that was so he just continud trying to do math. He later found out “dumass” ment a stupid donkey. Evan doesn’t like that word anymore. Sometimes Ernest can be a real turd but Evan can’t say that or he will be punished. Evan misses going on adventures with Helen becaus Helen never said those things to him. He still enjoys going to the market becaus it meens seeing the city, even if its from the litle area his grandfather allows him to go.
They were out for three ours before they came back to the farm and Evan had to work again. He hatd milking the cows. He hated plowing the fields now. Ernest also wants him to fix the wether vane because Liesander is not coming back to make a new one so Evan must bring it with him to find someone who can help. Evan did not want to help. he wantd to leaf, but didn’t know where to go. He wishes someone could tell him where to go.
Jeffery Gabel's Diary
November 1, 1411
Wrong. Everything is wrong and I am the malefactor. Melissa’s memory hangs above us like a hangman’s noose. I, the ultimate critic of failure, bowed to it. I did not pay enough attention to Melissa, resulting in her death and causing her to exercise more patience at the farm than was required. I paid too much attention to Lander and he punished me the night he left with no return ingrained into his gait. Only Evangeline Gabel of the trio remains now. I reckoned that he was kindly still by my side so that I could make things right. The boy was so kindly stupid. I questioned the boy “How will you prove your worth to me?”
In the beginning, the question settled in awkwardly. He did not empathize with the implications under my inquiry, what the exact implications of my message were, and altogether how to reply. I told the boy I’d give him a hint. I told him that I’d tell him the truth. He never proved anything to anyone on Gabel Farm. It wasn’t meant for him, it wasn’t demanding enough that his very struggle was required. There was no adventure on being on the farm, and all along the boy was trying to echo back his call to adventure. I obstructed his efforts and interpreted them as foolishness. Lander and Melissa departed already, it was time that Evangeline should too. I asked him what he would like to wear. He answered that he’d like to wear what Lander wore. I asked him why. He answered it was a worthy uniform. Something only someone who proved themselves could wear. I told him there were idiots in the Imperial Guard and that Lander was one of them. Evan said, “Precisely, Grandfather.” Silence settled immediately after; I leaned back relatively far in my chair before blowing a breath of strained exasperation. He blankly returned my gaze and the two of us shared the moment without stirring. No one had smiled ever since Melissa stopped smiling.
I asked him how he would contribute to the Imperial Guard, to prove his worth to them. He cannot prove to himself anything if he cannot prove himself to to be proficient in what he was a part of.
He told me that he’d follow all their commands, be the best soldier, rank endlessly until he was the best hero, find Lander and keep him alive, name something after Melissa, be real smart, and to be the one that everyone will remember as the important hero that proved his worth. I was surprised to see that he had already packed. There was a large sack in the corner of the barn, and its contents were thoughtless enough for me to know who planned to leave. He slung it over his shoulder but he didn’t leave. Stupid, stupid boy. He couldn’t bring himself to leave. Not by himself. There was no Helen to fight alongside him, no Liesander Dragon for him to climb onto. He needed me. His lips would never admit such a thing, but he gripped me, the man who could predict nothing. I told him that his reasons proved nothing. That they made him like the weather vane he packed in his bag, putrid and broken. Hopeless. Useless now. Influenced by the wind.
He didn’t say anything for awhile.
Then he finally asked ‘Grandfather, do you know why the weather vane knows everything?”
Of course I was conscious of why. Lander explained it well enough for a child to grasp, yet Evangeline appeared earlier to not have understood a single word that was spoken. It humored me, that he would ask me something he didn’t know himself. Humoring him back, I answered that I didn’t. I did not expect the next statement to be so strong.
“If you surrender to the wind, you can ride it, grandfather. It’s yours. The weather vane knows that. I only learned that recently from the weather vane. That was what Lander was trying to say the entire time. To ride the wind, not to let the wind rein me.”
He exposed the weather vane fully now, his grey eyes scanned it thoughtfully and his lips did something faint close to a smile. It wasn’t a smile though, because nobody smiled when Melissa could not. I asked what I could. I asked him why he wanted to bring the weather vane along--why it was relevant enough to bring.
“So when I find Lander, I can tell him you’re sorry and that you’d like it very much if he fixed it.”
The happening afterwards was nothing the boy could have expected. He watched his grandfather’s tears roll down ancient cheeks, dripping onto the ancient floor. The embrace we shared was a cold one, yet warm.
You are a very good lad, Evangeline Gabel, I gasped.
He gently retracted. “You aren’t a bad old man.”
I know. And that is why you must leave Gabel Farm.
“I will return someday, grandfather.” he promises.
I am angry. Never return, I tell the boy. Never return to Gabel Farm. Gabel Farm had nothing left for Evangeline, and the military surely would. His reward would be the continuation of his life, his struggle would be necessary and obligated. He would see more and serve Rhine well. He could do nothing for Jeffrey Gabel and he knew this. He only needed me to say the word to be off into the night:
Rhine III needs you. He is young and as are you. Has he harnessed the wind or will he require your aid to find out? Find Lander, fight for adventure, I say.
He doesn’t answer. He’s gone.
Notes:
-Evan uses monikers for the people in his story: Helen for Melissa, Liesander (monster) for Lander, and Ernest for his grandfather
-Each story is written after the preceding journal |
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Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2011 12:28 am
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Font:#5E767E
PERSONALITY
Trusting Circo's directional sense is like flipping a coin. Though he always seems to be going somewhere one can't quite be sure whether or not he's heading in the right direction. There isn't much long-term thinking or deliberation over where a road leads. Circo trusts his gut without any other indicator and leads the way until his intuition deserts him. This intuition serves as his only compass through both travels and morality. He does not trust the input of others when making decisions and instead, asks his emotions to guide him where they may. Maps are for the weak and ill-traveled with a terrible sense of direction. Circo doesn’t need a map! He knows where the wind is headed; he can lead the way.
Whether or not Circo leads the way, he has a habit of pointing and spinning. Like his plague item, he is guided by the wind both physically and directionally. He enjoys the rush of whirling around as well, never getting dizzy no matter how fast or long he spins. While his pointing is mostly for directional purposes he also has the habit of pointing at things for emphasis or simply to identify them.
He believes that everyone else is as judgmental as he is, constantly noticing the mistakes of others which is why he fears being wrong. Circo often corrects himself out loud when he attempts to lead someone on a trip so that it’s their fault if they go the wrong way. If he does end up leading someone in the wrong way, he will have a hard time admitting it and will backtrack, giving some sort of excuse. He wants others to remember him as a bright character and recoils at the thought of being anything less than perfect. Asking for help is taboo when Circo is in peril. He would rather fail on his own than ask for help from someone more skillful. His priorities always put his pride at the forefront when it might be better to swallow. When faced with someone better than himself, Circo does not become insecure, but rather suspicious of their intent. Will they try to prove something? Are they showing off to him?
Though judgemental, Circo is easily impressed by the other people, and therefore easily influenced, like how the weather vane surrenders to the wind. Whenever he meets someone impressive, he heightens his standards for himself and tries to be as good as them, or at least, close to as good as them. If challenged, however, Circo would not participate in whatever it is he’s being challenged in and instead concede to temporary defeat until he can devise a method of matching his opponent in skill. He wants to become closer to perfection and believes that by being at someone else’s level he can achieve that. Because Evan was the first person that Circo met, he holds his Grimm in higher regard than everyone else despite his shortcomings. He admires Evan’s good heart, but he acknowledges his Grimm’s flaws all the same. He hopes to better Evan in the same way that Circo tries to better himself every time that he meets someone respectable though Circo isn't one to wait. He is the type of person to jump the gun once impressed by someone new. While he knows that improvement is a long process, one cannot be expected to wait years to take the first step.
Hopefully his Grimm will learn a thing or two from him, and he, a thing or two from his Grimm.
Unlike his Grimm, Circo is more adventurous and boisterous, but like Evan, he loves to visit new places and experience new sights. Sitting still is a sin as is leading a sedentary life. Circo craves travel both for the novelty and the enrichment. He believes that by visiting new areas, he helps Evan experience the world that he was too scared to step into. Elevated places such as mountains or towers are a personal favorite whilst valleys and marshes disgust him. The feeling of the wind whipping in his face is soothing, much like a cool touch. Wet things disgust him and it’s the main reason why he consistently carries some form of shade wherever he goes. He hates the rain and water in general due to the disgusting petrichor.
Item History In 1396, Lander Gabel worked as an apprentice of a metalsmith in Mishkan in exchange for four months’ amount of wheat. Though he eventually left for the military, he still retained enough of his skill to bring back an innovation that would change farming: a weather vane. When Lander brought it back in 1410, Auvinian farmers were awed. They had never seen a weather vane before. They’d always refer to the stars as their guide for predicting harvest and the clouds for winds. It was amazing how a combination of metals could act as an amazing oracle. Auvinians from near and far marveled at the contraption, many asking for their own version. Lander was happy to oblige, though he knew that time would be of the essence if he fill every person’s order.
This first vane rested atop the Gabel farm and brought a good harvest during its first year of use, able to warn the family of incoming storms. When the year 1411 rolled around however, even the weather vane could not predict the famine that would sweep Panymium nor could it predict the spread of the Black Plague. Crops everywhere became putrid, forced to be destroyed in order to quarantine the virus. Even animals weren’t spared, slaughtered and burned in mountains to no avail. The plague was still spreading. By fall, only the Gabel farms remained untouched with their vane perched atop the roof of the barn, an eerily optimistic embellishment.
Birds would often flock to it, fancying the item as a resting place, but there was no guarantee that these birds would be healthy. Two in particular were quite the fighters, trying to escape the pursuit of their larger attacker. The hawk was relentless in its strike, shredding the fowl with its putrid talons. Unfortunately, the hawk was also aware of its surroundings, veering away at the last second when it noticed two rotating pieces of metal. The two birds were not as aware, flying right into the sharp points of the vane.
For several weeks, no one noticed the black emitting from the vane, attributing the lack of crops to the famine finally hitting the Gabel Farm. It is not until a storm hits and ruins the remainder of the growing vegetation that the family realizes that something is amiss. The weather vane did not predict what it should have, for it was tainted with a blackness both putrid and obstinate. The younger Gabel could not remove the substance from the vane, and the elder Gabel couldn’t devise a method to. The weather vane was taken down to be thrown away, but Evan refused. Instead he decided to try and find his brother so that he could fix it as a sentiment to his grandfather. |
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Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2011 12:29 am
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Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2011 12:32 am
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Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2011 12:33 am
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Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2011 12:35 am
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Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2011 12:38 am
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