Subbed.
Sorry guys, I'm British. Our camps are named after the founders or the place it's situated and they rarely have "Camp" at the begining of their names.
And why settle for one terrain? There could be mountains to one side and forest on the other. Or a mountain with a forest. Either way, there should be some kind of difficult terrain, preferably the camoflauge of a forest or wood.
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Seems like the gender ratio is working out fine as well.
Weisse smiled at the story, before quietly murmuring "It's probably a normal Katana, judging from the size. I don't see how leaving the blade unfinished makes a differance, though. Surely the deib would just finish it off themselves?"
To answer Daniel's question, Weisse leaned over, opened his duffle bag and lifted his sheathed blade from under a pile of clothes. He grabbed the hilt and pulled it with a satisfying shhckt, revealing the rapier in its full glory.
"This is Albione." Weisse explained, his face lighting up with joy. "Back home in Schweiz, my Vatti worked with a man called Etienne. His daughter, Amy, was about my age, so when Vatti was out at work during the evening or weekends, I would meet up with Amy and we would kick about until our Vatti's came back. But Amy was in to fencing and wanted to teach me a few things. 'A few things' became everything she knew, and before long we were having full-fledged duels all over the manor. We only used fake swords, but they felt authentic"
Weisse paused, looking at Albione thoughtfully. Then, without warning, he sprang to his feet in the traditional fencer's stance.
"En garde, pret, allez!"
He smiled at the memories, silent for a few tense seconds. The smile saddened, tears filling his eyes.
"I learned to fight off a girl. Dad never gave me peace for it 'What good is that?' he'd say 'Everyone knows girls are better at diplomacy than fighting.' He was kidding, sure, but I kept practicing regardless. I started researching sword types, going to fencing classes and looking into famous historical battles."
Now abandoning the smile entirely, Weisse stopped for a moment and looked at the sword thoughtfully.
"When I turned nine, Mum and Dad got me this. According to Dad, it belonged to my great-great-something grandpa. It was a family heirloom that Dad tracked down and found. I don't think I ever hugged someone so much. I showed it off to my freinds at school, my fencing class, my family..."
The Swiss trailed off, looking solemn. Then, in a low, almost silent whisper -
"It was the last gift they ever got me."
All of a sudden, the depressed look on Weisse's face vanished, replaced by a warm, toothy grin. It was like someone had hit a switch that completely changed his emotional state.
"Ah well, the past's in the past, right? No point whining about the things we can't change."
To answer Daniel's question, Weisse leaned over, opened his duffle bag and lifted his sheathed blade from under a pile of clothes. He grabbed the hilt and pulled it with a satisfying shhckt, revealing the rapier in its full glory.
"This is Albione." Weisse explained, his face lighting up with joy. "Back home in Schweiz, my Vatti worked with a man called Etienne. His daughter, Amy, was about my age, so when Vatti was out at work during the evening or weekends, I would meet up with Amy and we would kick about until our Vatti's came back. But Amy was in to fencing and wanted to teach me a few things. 'A few things' became everything she knew, and before long we were having full-fledged duels all over the manor. We only used fake swords, but they felt authentic"
Weisse paused, looking at Albione thoughtfully. Then, without warning, he sprang to his feet in the traditional fencer's stance.
"En garde, pret, allez!"
He smiled at the memories, silent for a few tense seconds. The smile saddened, tears filling his eyes.
"I learned to fight off a girl. Dad never gave me peace for it 'What good is that?' he'd say 'Everyone knows girls are better at diplomacy than fighting.' He was kidding, sure, but I kept practicing regardless. I started researching sword types, going to fencing classes and looking into famous historical battles."
Now abandoning the smile entirely, Weisse stopped for a moment and looked at the sword thoughtfully.
"When I turned nine, Mum and Dad got me this. According to Dad, it belonged to my great-great-something grandpa. It was a family heirloom that Dad tracked down and found. I don't think I ever hugged someone so much. I showed it off to my freinds at school, my fencing class, my family..."
The Swiss trailed off, looking solemn. Then, in a low, almost silent whisper -
"It was the last gift they ever got me."
All of a sudden, the depressed look on Weisse's face vanished, replaced by a warm, toothy grin. It was like someone had hit a switch that completely changed his emotional state.
"Ah well, the past's in the past, right? No point whining about the things we can't change."
Weisse nearly jumped out of his skin. He had not been expecting such a response, especially not in such a friendly manner. It was a rare and refreshing change.
"Erm... Konnichiwa, Daniel. I'm Weisse. Well, Weisse Feigheit Feder. But please just call me Weisse."
He studied the other boy carefully. Black hair, decent build, skin not quite as light as his own and, even to him, quite handsome features. He was a sharp contrast to his own fair, scrawny, feminine self.
Do I shake his hand? What do I say? What do I do?
Weisse looked for something distnguishing about the boy's personality, first on him, then in the room. His eyes caught a glimpse of the sword again and put two and two together.
"That's a nice blade you have there. Is it a normal Katana or a Dai-Katana?"
Well, at least we have something in common.
"Erm... Konnichiwa, Daniel. I'm Weisse. Well, Weisse Feigheit Feder. But please just call me Weisse."
He studied the other boy carefully. Black hair, decent build, skin not quite as light as his own and, even to him, quite handsome features. He was a sharp contrast to his own fair, scrawny, feminine self.
Do I shake his hand? What do I say? What do I do?
Weisse looked for something distnguishing about the boy's personality, first on him, then in the room. His eyes caught a glimpse of the sword again and put two and two together.
"That's a nice blade you have there. Is it a normal Katana or a Dai-Katana?"
Well, at least we have something in common.
In
Fractured Empire-WIP Renaissance Fantasy Nation Building and Rping
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Nation Interest Checks
Rhymer said
This is pretty much on the shelf for the moment.
Hmm. Well, I'll keep an eye on it
Weisse's soft steps echoed through the halls. "This place is terryfing" he whispered to himself as he struggled to make out the tiny map in front of him. The lights were awful, and it was a struggle just to see in front of him.
Of course, two big duffle bags and a rucksack filled to bursting rarely helps mobility and on the Swiss boy's tiny frame they were even more restrictive than on a normal person. But every pound of it was necessary - clothes, books, Albione, entertainment of all shapes and colors. Not a single article could be left in the hands of his vindictive family.
After about half an hour of stumbling about, he finally made it to his dorm. The door creaked open, giving way to a lighter room, if a litle dull. Still somewhat edgy, he entered, taking in the simple colors and cool air.
Wait, cool? The air-con's on! Someone's already in here!
Cursing his luck, Weisse prayed the noise hadn't disturbed his roomate. One bed was empty, but the other had the unmistakble lump of a body under the sheets. It should've been obvious. No school would dare put a sword, a real sword, on a rack for decaration and the presence of a duffle bag, not unlike his own, is rare in unoccupied dorms.
Scheisse, Scheisse, SCHEISSE
"Mi dispiace, amico if I have awoken you" he whispered, just loud enough for the other boy to hear if he was awake but quiet enough so it wouldn't wake him if he was asleep. "I'll be as quiet as I can"
Placing his bags down, Weisse decided that unpacking could wait until tomorrow. He changed out the bag from his travelling stuff into his night-clothes, brushed his teeth and lay down in bed.
Sleep seemed far away.
Of course, two big duffle bags and a rucksack filled to bursting rarely helps mobility and on the Swiss boy's tiny frame they were even more restrictive than on a normal person. But every pound of it was necessary - clothes, books, Albione, entertainment of all shapes and colors. Not a single article could be left in the hands of his vindictive family.
After about half an hour of stumbling about, he finally made it to his dorm. The door creaked open, giving way to a lighter room, if a litle dull. Still somewhat edgy, he entered, taking in the simple colors and cool air.
Wait, cool? The air-con's on! Someone's already in here!
Cursing his luck, Weisse prayed the noise hadn't disturbed his roomate. One bed was empty, but the other had the unmistakble lump of a body under the sheets. It should've been obvious. No school would dare put a sword, a real sword, on a rack for decaration and the presence of a duffle bag, not unlike his own, is rare in unoccupied dorms.
Scheisse, Scheisse, SCHEISSE
"Mi dispiace, amico if I have awoken you" he whispered, just loud enough for the other boy to hear if he was awake but quiet enough so it wouldn't wake him if he was asleep. "I'll be as quiet as I can"
Placing his bags down, Weisse decided that unpacking could wait until tomorrow. He changed out the bag from his travelling stuff into his night-clothes, brushed his teeth and lay down in bed.
Sleep seemed far away.
Caits, your character and mine could be blabbering away to each other in German and no-one will understand what we are saying!
Pudding said
These fluent languages tho.
Born in Switzerland, son!
Name: Weisse Feigheit Feder
Gender: M
Year: 2
Personality: Weisse is skittish and cowardly, always wanting to get things "over with". He talks quickly, moves quickly, eats quickly and thinks quickly. He's also quite generous with his money. In the face of danger, he runs rather than fights and if cornered he gives up. Loves the supernatural, hates suprises.
He's also a bit oblivious to peoples emotions and feelings.
Bio: Raised in Switzerland as the son of a wealthy banker, Weisse grew up in relative comfort. He had all the food he could eat, all the money he could spend and all the games he could play.
But don't think this made him a soft, prissy brat. Weisse was not wasteful or ungrateful, and he certainly wasn't blind to the needs of others. He always donated healthily to charity, gave away hundreds of Francs to beggars and buskers, and was always looking for something to do with his time. He took up fencing, archery, shooting, chess and running. He became highly proficient in the latter, soon able to outrun and outmanouvre boys double his age. All-in-all, he was talented, generous and content.
But, at the age of nine, disaster struck. A fatal car accident left him orphaned and alone. Unfortunatly he had a surviving relative, an older sister who lived in Japan. He was moved into her care until he was allowed to access the accounts at the age of 18.
His older sister was spiteful, mean and aggresive, and her two daughters were just the same. From the second Weisse entered the house, he knew he wasn't wanted. Whilst his sister wasn't too bad, keeping her abuse to verbal taunts, her daughters where a nightmare. One of their favourite "games" was to have one pin him down whilst the other smeared him with lipstick, blusher, masscara - all kinds. He quickly became good freinds with the bathroom sink.
As you'd expect, he learned to master escape, thinking on his feet. It was his only option, after all. He could hardly fight back.
So the now terrified-of-girls Weisse moved up into the Shi Bendo academy, partly for the education and partly to escape his unwelcoming home life.
Hobbies: Fencing, archery, shooting and running.
Skills/talents: Excellent sabruer and archer, good aim, exceptional speed and stamina, speaks fluent German and Italian.
Weaknesses: Slightly nervous around females and make-up, defeatist nature, oblivious, not very strong.
Classes: Adv. English, Basic Maths, Basic Science, Biology, Gym, Advanced History, Art
Appearance: Pale skin, light blond hair kept fairly short and bright blue eyes. Somewhat androgenous features. One could even go so far as to say he was "pretty"
Gender: M
Year: 2
Personality: Weisse is skittish and cowardly, always wanting to get things "over with". He talks quickly, moves quickly, eats quickly and thinks quickly. He's also quite generous with his money. In the face of danger, he runs rather than fights and if cornered he gives up. Loves the supernatural, hates suprises.
He's also a bit oblivious to peoples emotions and feelings.
Bio: Raised in Switzerland as the son of a wealthy banker, Weisse grew up in relative comfort. He had all the food he could eat, all the money he could spend and all the games he could play.
But don't think this made him a soft, prissy brat. Weisse was not wasteful or ungrateful, and he certainly wasn't blind to the needs of others. He always donated healthily to charity, gave away hundreds of Francs to beggars and buskers, and was always looking for something to do with his time. He took up fencing, archery, shooting, chess and running. He became highly proficient in the latter, soon able to outrun and outmanouvre boys double his age. All-in-all, he was talented, generous and content.
But, at the age of nine, disaster struck. A fatal car accident left him orphaned and alone. Unfortunatly he had a surviving relative, an older sister who lived in Japan. He was moved into her care until he was allowed to access the accounts at the age of 18.
His older sister was spiteful, mean and aggresive, and her two daughters were just the same. From the second Weisse entered the house, he knew he wasn't wanted. Whilst his sister wasn't too bad, keeping her abuse to verbal taunts, her daughters where a nightmare. One of their favourite "games" was to have one pin him down whilst the other smeared him with lipstick, blusher, masscara - all kinds. He quickly became good freinds with the bathroom sink.
As you'd expect, he learned to master escape, thinking on his feet. It was his only option, after all. He could hardly fight back.
So the now terrified-of-girls Weisse moved up into the Shi Bendo academy, partly for the education and partly to escape his unwelcoming home life.
Hobbies: Fencing, archery, shooting and running.
Skills/talents: Excellent sabruer and archer, good aim, exceptional speed and stamina, speaks fluent German and Italian.
Weaknesses: Slightly nervous around females and make-up, defeatist nature, oblivious, not very strong.
Classes: Adv. English, Basic Maths, Basic Science, Biology, Gym, Advanced History, Art
Appearance: Pale skin, light blond hair kept fairly short and bright blue eyes. Somewhat androgenous features. One could even go so far as to say he was "pretty"
Its one of those awkward moments where I know what I want to play, but have trouble putting into words. Ugh!
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