Hero

The Band of Fools

You have to also look at the bigger picture, more money is always the way to go! _/s

The Band of Fools

#TeamHoward

The Band of Fools

> Unsure who to vote for
> Finally decides and votes
> Sees the tied results
> whytho

The Band of Fools

Sister Margaret

Name:
Sister Margaret of the St. Paciomios Monestary

Gender:
Female

Age:
36

Role/Position:
Champlain / Secondary Doctor / Camp Servant

Appearance:

Margaret

A woman of average height, Margaret is a woman with a striking appearance. She has a square jaw, high cheekbones, and noticeably red lips. Her hazel eyes could be mistaken for gold in the sunlight, though they are always sharp and heavy lidded. The black mane of curls she possesses is usually braided back tightly and tucked under her veil neatly, only unraveled when she is going to bed. She often dresses in a simple white robe with a brown cloth draped on top, as do most nuns, though it seems she does have a pair of pants on underneath.

Personality:
In a word, Margaret is sharp. Despite being a woman of God who has taken a vow of obedience, she is very opinionated, unafraid to speak her mind. She is outgoing in this sense, able to not only strike up a conversation with nearly anyone, but able to keep up even if the topic at hand isn't a strong suit of hers. Her intellect is something she doesn't talk often about, although she seems eager to share what she has learned about medicine, finding it to be absolutely fascinating. Still, she likes to make sure to keep her distance, always keeping people at an arm's length. She is capable of kindness when it is needed and does whatever she can to make herself useful, as busy hands are how she prefers hers to be. Usually calm, cool, and collected, she does have a rather sarcastic sense of humor, but means well most of the time.

She is not a stranger to battle, although she outright refuses to speak of her experiences.

History:
Sister Margaret has done well to keep her past under a tight wrap, making sure not to reveal too much of her personal history. Her history in the abbey, however, is public, and known throughout her town. It was at the age of fourteen that she first approached the St. Pachiomios Monestary in search of sanctuary with a pledge of chastity, leading many to believe she had come to escape marriage. Once accepted, it was revealed she was educated, though she claims it was because her father was a teacher in her town. Despite the raised eyebrows, Margaret gave her vow of obedience and placed her life at the Lord's hands, assembling without a hitch.

After several years within the Monestary, the small town which it occupied was attacked. Some say it was the work of the devil, others say it was the work of a drunken brigade stumbling through on their way to their homelands, either way people were getting attacked, even in such a holy place. Margaret believed there was no need to fear so long as faith was given, and so she remained, alone while others fled. Reciting the words of the lord, she planted herself in the chapel and prayed. When the brigadiers came to pillage and loot, they stumbled upon her, though it was said that upon seeing her without so much as a trace of fear, the fighters saw her as a holy woman, and fled the scene.

Of course, life continued after this, though a plague would hit her home next. Many of the sick came to the Monastary looking for both prayer and help, many being turned away as the members themselves began to fall ill. Desperate to help her sisters, Margaret once again turned to prayer, with it receiving a vision that told her she needed to learn medicine to heal the people. She tried to learn, only to get turned away, being assured that she need only rely on prayer. Over time, however, the plague claimed more and more lives. The shortage of doctors gave her a reason to begin practicing medicine out of necessity, and she would treat whoever made it to the Monestary, never turning away anyone. Once again, the people began to praise her, her story of the previous attack getting out and spreading like wildfire.

Margaret's popularity saw with it a rise in the ranks, but being the humble nun she was, she decided her work would be more appreciated if she spread the Lord's word throughout the world. At Father Joseph's prodding, she decided to join the Band of Fortune, as those who would go to battle surely would appreciate such a virtuous holy woman as a champlain, right?

Skills and Abilities:
- Peak Physique : She can lift a lot more than most women can, she does credit this to having to move bodies around a lot. She jokes that running away from things is a past time of hers, though she can run pretty quickly as well.
- Knowledge in Medicine : Learned when most of the doctors in her town died to the plague, the knowledge helps her treat surface wounds and recognize when one is ill or injured. Her self-proclaimed specialty is medicine making, which also gives her a basic knowledge of botany, as she recognizes which plants are useful for medicine making, which are safe to ingest, and which to avoid.
- Cooking : She learned to cook for groups at the Monestary, finding it a needed task, but she finds it enjoyable as well.

Weakness(es):
Members of the clergy can only attack in self-defense, as shedding blood violates canon law.

Equipment:
Carries with her a copy of her teachings, her pectoral cross, a club and a leather breastplate for self defense, as well as various bottles, a few books for reference in her medicine-making, and tools to treat surface wounds. Her horse usually carries her supplies for her.

[HIGH CASUAL] Welcome to Salem, Massachusetts

Location; What's-His-Face's Apartment near Washington Square
Interacting With; Katalina @Kitty

"You had plenty money in nineteen twenty-two,
You let other women make a fool of you,
Why don't you do right?"

Pausing her song long enough to coat her lips in a shade of hot pink lipstick, she watched her reflection carefully, taking extra care to make sure she lined her lips just right. After years of applying makeup, it was only recently that she gained a steady hand, but now she focused more on applying it evenly as opposed to making sure it didn't go out of place. Once she finished, she placed another coat to make sure the color popped, and a clear, glossy lipstick on top as a finishing touch. Puckering her lips, Aimee straightened up, giving herself a satisfied smile. "Like some other men do?" She finished, swinging her hip to the side as she placed her makeup back into her bag.

Rather than go all the way back to her place last night, she decided to crash at What's-his-face's place near Washington Square. Founder's Day was essentially a day-long party, and she was definitely in the mood to party. All the people, the food, the festivities, the beautiful boys and girls that came out to play...okay, she mostly liked that last part, but still, she wanted to have fun. Her kind of fun was the kind you needed with two people, though, and so she figured if she went early, she could snag herself a catch and probably let them treat her by taking her around or whatever.

And so there she was, her makeup perfectly set, her white and pink dress ironed and without a wrinkle, and she was ready to take her leave. Exiting the bathroom, she plopped down onto a chair, slipping her feet into her beige stiletto pumps. As she stood up, the bedroom door opened, and What's-His-Face stepped out. He was tall, bronzed with beach blonde hair, and a set of dazzling brown eyes. He was adorable, but she had hoped to be able to just slip out before he woke up. Throwing on a smile, she placed one hand on her hip. Crap, was he going to talk to her? She should probably try to remember his name. She felt like it was something with a 'B'. Brandon? Brody? Bill? Ben? Brandon sounded kind of right, but she wasn't entirely sure.

Luckily for her, he would be the first to speak. "Good morning, gorgeous," He greeted her as he gave her a still-sleepy smile.

Bart? Barney? "Bonjour à toi aussi," She purred back, a hand to her chin daintily. "Don't worry, I was just on my way out."

"Out? Well..." He hesitated, shifting slightly. Uh oh. "I was wondering, maybe you wanted to hang out more."

Benson. Benjamin. No, that wasn't it either. Okay, she needed to forget the name for a moment, she wasn't about to get chained down when she wanted to go on the prowl. It was still early, so Aimee decided to let him down easily. Walking towards him, she would lightly pull up his pants, earning her the slightest reaction as he stiffened. "Darling, that is a nice sentiment, but you and I both know that's not a good idea," She said as she looked up at him, a small smile on her face. "You said you just wanted to have some fun, remember?"

"I know, but there's just something about you that drives me wild," He murmured, leaning down to kiss her.

Shit. That was her fault. Stepping to the side, she avoided him easily. "Which is very flattering, but let's not ruin a good memory, hm?" She told him, taking a step back. "We're both free spirits, coming together for a wonderful night. But it's done and over and I'm going now. Okay?" She grinned.

He squinted at her. "...okay. I'll leave you alone if you do one thing for me," He agreed, crossing his arms.

"I am not ruining my lipstick," She stopped his train of thought immediately, holding out her finger to stop him. "I have a routine and I am not starting over."

"No, not that. Give me your number."

Ugh, come on! Weren't guys the ones that usually just hit it and quit it? Most guys would've been thrilled that she wanted to leave! Fine, she was trying to be nice for once, but if he was going to insist, then so be it. "Listen...B--" She began, though she quickly realized she never did remember his name.

"Jordan." He said, incredulous. "My name is Jordan."

Well shit, she wasn't even in the same ballpark. "Jordan, right," She nodded, though she went back on the attack. "This was fun, but there are better, bigger fish out in the sea." She told him, patting his arm as she watched his expression change. "But hey, you scored me, and that's a big deal. I mean, you'll never do any better, but hey, we can't always get what we want, right? Right." She answered herself as she flashed him a smile, watching whatever ego he had melt away. "Take care, Bennett."

"I just said my name is Jordan!" He whined.

Whoops. She really needed to pay more attention. "That's what I meant. Au revoir," She said as she turned around, her eyes wide as she mentally berated herself.

Scooping up her purse, she quickly made her way out of the apartment, blinking in the brightness. Cloudy day, how convenient for her. Carefully making her way down the stone steps, she inhaled the fresh air, putting on a smile as she would make her way to the heart of the festivities. Pulling her Chanel sunglasses out of her purse, she eyed the people before her as she slipped them on. She shuddered suddenly, something in the air making her skin crawl, though she figured it was probably the sun trying to bake her alive already. Admittedly, that was the only downside that really bummed her out about vampirism. She loved the beach and warm weather, but it was literally dangerous for her to stay out too long.

As she walked, she looked around absentmindedly, taking in the sights. Aimee's carelessness caused her to walk right into someone, sending her slightly to the side. She wobbled for a moment, regaining her footing despite the ground being determined to bring her to it. Satisfied that she managed not to tumble over, she pulled her glasses down slightly to look at the brown haired girl. Her face looked somewhat familiar, though she couldn't place it at the moment. "So sorry," Aimee apologized lightly, though it was obvious it was said out of necessity and not genuity. As she was about to continue to walk, however, she felt that something didn't sit right. She turned back to the girl, a hand on her chin. "Why do you look familiar?" She asked, knowing it was going to bother her all day unless she got an answer.

Time Stops For Fire(Altered Tundra and Hero)

Savayna was fine? Fine?! Was Jaakuna blind?! "You call that fine?" Nadeline asked Jaakuna, completely shocked, though the novelty wore off rather quickly as she scowled at him instead. "You're a bigger idiot than I gave you credit for!"

Nevertheless, he had a point. Not that she was going to stop and admit it, but she needed to pick up the pace, and she needed help. As she heard Ultima already beginning to chide her, Nadeline ignored her as well as her free hand rummaged through her pockets, bringing out the feathered hair clip she had picked up in Archades--ironically, the same day they had first met Shion. Raising it above her, she poured her magicks into it, and when it would begin to glow softly, she would release it. The golden clip dissolved, leaving only the feather to gently flow down, though Nadeline would take a step back, slicing through it with her rapier. The rapier shined brilliantly as it absorbed the magicks, elongating and turning into the Rod of Faith.

Nadeline gripped the rod with both hands, her magicks getting a boost as she channeled them through the rod, which was known to enhance White Magicks. Taking in a deep breath, she pushed on the Haste spell, and rather than stopping the Sap, she chose to make it work faster. Her enhanced Regen was able to keep up the pace, though she would have to pause and throw a Curaga once in a while. Every spell had its end, regardless of its strength. The Haste would further the process, her Regens and Curagas healing Savayna as the Sap worked its way, though she then chose to focus on the vines. Pushing her magick further, Nadeline would form her own vines, mimicking the cursed spell, though hers were laced with the obvious Holy magicks. The vines cancelled one another out, releasing Savayna.

Would you look at that? Ultima said, impressed.

As if. Things were just getting started.

The Band of Fools

The BIG FEEDBACK POST is here:

---

@Hero And last, but by no means least, we come to Sister Margaret - a character I am tempted to accept solely on the basis of what a breath of fresh air this has been after our assorted collection of grizzled mercs. This will vastly increase the variety of possible character interactions we can RP as a group. I really like that you've gone for something different on this, you get bonus points for doing so.

I have no real pointers for this character, although I wonder why they decided to join the Band of Fools specifically? Why choose a mercenary company as her vehicle to do the work of the Blessed One? The only other thing is that you mention having a Cross? The religious symbol of clerisy is something I haven't thought about yet, why not come to discord and brainstorm with me?

---

@Kassarock

I thought it'd be kind of fun to go in the completely opposite direction, glad to see it paid off a little lol. I also realize I completely forgot to mention the reason for her joining as I did have it written down and then somehow deleted that and another sentence that was supposed to be at the end (something about taking advantage of traveling to find the Chosen One? _{my memory is terrible I'm sorry}) along with another secretive reason that'll probably get revealed during the RP.

I did take a lot of liberty with the cross and the religion, and I'd love to talk with you to see if we can come up with something more cohesive or whatever, I'll make sure to hit you up on Discord.

{High Casual} I'll Be There For You - Friendship Roleplay

Location; Nicholas' Apartment
Interacting With; Layla (Mentioned).

---

"I'm really sorry. I swear to you, I had no idea," The female voice came out of her phone's speaker, her voice wavering slightly and echoing through the nearly empty room. "That's not the kind of person I am, if I had known...I'm so sorry."

Amelia stared at the wall across the room, her eyes unfocused. She sat in an old, wooden chair in the bedroom, her body leaning forward. Her phone was in her hand, the call still ongoing as an unknown number displayed on the screen. For about a week, that number had constantly called the apartment, begging to see Nicholas, her boyfriend. She didn't know why, but even after he assured her that it was probably a mistake, she couldn't quite shake off the feeling that something was wrong. Her mother had always encouraged her to follow her gut, so naturally, Amelia never listened and took the safest route instead. This was probably the first time she had finally done it, she finally got the courage to call back the number.

There was a dramatic scene that she had played in her head: she would demand the truth from the mystery woman, confront Nicholas, then slap him and storm out. Of course, reality had a way of sobering up the anger and leaving you completely empty. The truth was that sometime during the summer, presumably the period of time when she had gone to visit her parents' place for a family reunion, Nicholas had one too many drinks and had hooked up with a waitress at some bar he had gone to. It was a one time thing, probably a mistake, but it happened, and there were consequences.

And now Amelia needed to figure out what to do when he would arrive. Letting out a sigh, it took her a moment to realize she had inadvertently ended the call. Scratching the bridge of her nose, she took off her glasses as she stood up. The bedroom didn't even look the same. Nothing did. But she had seen it coming, going so far as to send her stuff over to Layla's place preemptively. Speaking of, she promised she would text her to let her know what happened, didn't she? Walking over to the living room, her heart froze as she heard the lock turn. Wait, why was she surprised? He wasn't working, he would've been back at any moment. Well, she hadn't expected him to get here right then and there, either! Okay, no problem, she would just wing it.

Nicholas opened the door, humming something as he walked in and closed the door behind him. He jumped slightly, though he let out a laugh as he realized who was in front of him. "Hey, I thought you were working 'til three?" Nicholas greeted her, hand running through his brown hair as he acknowledged her still in her work uniform. "Kinda scared the crap out of me just standing there, though."

So casual, like nothing was happening. Since August he was like this. August! It was November! Months! An inner rage seemed to boil, though she somehow managed not to explode. She needed to be calm, civil, and let him know she was done. "Sheila just needed me to open but didn't need me for the rest of the day, so I decided to leave," Amelia replied. "I needed to come home--to come here, anyway."

Nicholas threw himself onto the couch, nodding in understanding. "We still going to your parents' place, right? It'd probably be better if we take advantage that you're home, we could probably beat traffic if we go now," He pointed out.

Something was in her throat now. Oh, god, why? She swallowed, one hand behind her back as it would pull on the ends of her hair. "Um, actually...we're not going," She started slowly, taking in a deep breath. She just needed to take it slow. "You remember that voicemail we kept getting? It actually was for you." Or she could just jump right in, that was a thing, too.

He was quiet, eyeing her for a moment, though he groaned, throwing his head back. "Why would you call back after I told you not to?" He asked, annoyed. "Now you're mad over some shit she probably gave you--"

"Oh, I'm sorry, you--you don't get to be annoyed at me," She quickly cut him off, ignoring her shaking voice. "The only reason I called was--was because she kept calling, and it seemed really urgent. And it was."

"Urgent? What? I told you not to worry about it," He said, frowning. "You're gonna get yourself all worked up over nothing."

"Well, too bad, I worried!" She was losing traction, though she couldn't believe how nonchalant he was about this. In a way, it gave her a second wind, though she couldn't exactly hold herself back anymore. "Nick, she knew exactly who you were, where you lived, the tattoo on your back--she knew everything about you, so unless you've decided to become a stripper without telling me, I feel like there's something you're not telling me! So...So are you going to tell me or what?!"

To her surprise, Nicholas would finally get up, crossing his arms as he stood in front of her. "Tell you what, Amy?" He asked her, his voice low in an effort to calm her down.

Whether it was his constant denial, her own rage, or maybe she had just plain snapped, she found herself screaming at the top of her lungs: "Por el amor de Dios--Tell me that you got Lucy pregnant, Nick!"

Letting it out certainly calmed Amelia down, though she was a ball of emotion as she placed her hands on her hips, watching Nick's reaction. He had paled somewhat, uncrossing his arms as he took a step back. For a moment, the two stared at one another, as if daring the other to speak first. To her surprise, he let out a laugh as he shook his head. She looked at him, her eyes begging for an a denial, but his silence was as good as a confirmation. "Amy..." He said her name quietly, taking a step towards her.

Amelia stepped back, holding her arm out. "I can't believe you," Her voice matched his in volume. As he moved to get closer to her, she stood her ground. "Don't."

"It's not what you think, I promise," He pleaded with her, taking her hand in his.

"Not what I think? Did you accidentally land on top of her naked?!" She retorted as she pulled her hand away from him. "No, you know what? I don't want to hear it, I don't care anymore, just--I'm gone." She grabbed her purse, rustling through it as she pulled out an envelope and a key, slamming both of them on the coffee table. "I closed our account, that's your half."

"You closed--so you made up your mind before we even had a chance to talk?" Now it was his turn to get angry as she stomped over to the door. "What the hell, Amy?"

Unfortunately for him, Amelia wasn't having any of it. "No, no, no, no, you lost this argument--you lost me the moment you decided to sleep with someone else!" She told him as she walked out, practically slamming the door behind her.

Her black heels hit the ground hard as she walked, her mind in a frenzy as she stormed out of the building. The cold air hit her face hard, but all she knew was that she needed to get out and get as far away as possible. The urge to let out another scream was building up as she chose a direction and just walked, but she managed to keep it in. It wasn't until she stopped at the corner that she realized she was shaking. Admittedly, her suit jacket wasn't too warm, and her pencil skirt and tights didn't give much coverage either. Buttoning up her jacket, she let out a breath to try to calm herself down. Once the light changed, she walked across the street, crossing her arms in an attempt to warm herself. When did it get so cold? What a stupid question, it was November in New York! She let out a sigh as she fixed her glasses, once again coming to a stop at the corner of the block. It was then her phone buzzed, but she ignored it for the time being, shivering in place as she waited for the light to change.

What a day.

The Band of Fools

Slightest word of caution, admittedly I know little about religion and what I do know is in Spanish, so I ask for some forgiveness if terms weren't used correctly. I did take the time to do my research, though, so hopefully it's at least believable. And some contradictions should be intentional, what with a hidden past cause people like mystery right? _{I'm so sorry I promise I tried also shoutout to my peeps on discord for telling me to just do it}

Sister Margaret

Name:
Sister Margaret of the St. Paciomios Monestary

Gender:
Female

Age:
36

Role/Position:
Champlain / Secondary Doctor / Camp Servant

Appearance:

Margaret

A woman of average height, Margaret is a woman with a striking appearance. She has a square jaw, high cheekbones, and noticeably red lips. Her hazel eyes could be mistaken for gold in the sunlight, though they are always sharp and heavy lidded. The black mane of curls she possesses is usually braided back tightly and tucked under her veil neatly, only unraveled when she is going to bed. She often dresses in a simple white robe with a brown cloth draped on top, as do most nuns, though it seems she does have a pair of pants on underneath.

Personality:
In a word, Margaret is sharp. Despite being a woman of God who has taken a vow of obedience, she is very opinionated, unafraid to speak her mind. She is outgoing in this sense, able to not only strike up a conversation with nearly anyone, but able to keep up even if the topic at hand isn't a strong suit of hers. Her intellect is something she doesn't talk often about, although she seems eager to share what she has learned about medicine, finding it to be absolutely fascinating. Still, she likes to make sure to keep her distance, always keeping people at an arm's length. She is capable of kindness when it is needed and does whatever she can to make herself useful, as busy hands are how she prefers hers to be. Usually calm, cool, and collected, she does have a rather sarcastic sense of humor, but means well most of the time.

She is not a stranger to battle, although she outright refuses to speak of her experiences.

History:
Sister Margaret has done well to keep her past under a tight wrap, making sure not to reveal too much of her personal history. Her history in the abbey, however, is public, and known throughout her town. It was at the age of fourteen that she first approached the St. Pachiomios Monestary in search of sanctuary with a pledge of chastity, leading many to believe she had come to escape marriage. Once accepted, it was revealed she was educated, though she claims it was because her father was a teacher in her town. Despite the raised eyebrows, Margaret gave her vow of obedience and placed her life at the Lord's hands, assembling without a hitch.

After several years within the Monestary, the small town which it occupied was attacked. Some say it was the work of the devil, others say it was the work of a drunken brigade stumbling through on their way to their homelands, either way people were getting attacked, even in such a holy place. Margaret believed there was no need to fear so long as faith was given, and so she remained, alone while others fled. Reciting the words of the lord, she planted herself in the chapel and prayed. When the brigadiers came to pillage and loot, they stumbled upon her, though it was said that upon seeing her without so much as a trace of fear, the fighters saw her as a holy woman, and fled the scene.

Of course, life continued after this, though a plague would hit her home next. Many of the sick came to the Monastary looking for both prayer and help, many being turned away as the members themselves began to fall ill. Desperate to help her sisters, Margaret once again turned to prayer, with it receiving a vision that told her she needed to learn medicine to heal the people. She tried to learn, only to get turned away, being assured that she need only rely on prayer. Over time, however, the plague claimed more and more lives. The shortage of doctors gave her a reason to begin practicing medicine out of necessity, and she would treat whoever made it to the Monestary, never turning away anyone. Once again, the people began to praise her, her story of the previous attack getting out and spreading like wildfire.

Margaret's popularity saw with it a rise in the ranks, but being the humble nun she was, she decided her work would be more appreciated if she spread the Lord's word throughout the world. At Father Joseph's prodding, she decided to join the Band of Fortune, as those who would go to battle surely would appreciate such a virtuous holy woman as a champlain, right?

Skills and Abilities:
- Peak Physique : She can lift a lot more than most women can, she does credit this to having to move bodies around a lot. She jokes that running away from things is a past time of hers, though she can run pretty quickly as well.
- Knowledge in Medicine : Learned when most of the doctors in her town died to the plague, the knowledge helps her treat surface wounds and recognize when one is ill or injured. Her self-proclaimed specialty is medicine making, which also gives her a basic knowledge of botany, as she recognizes which plants are useful for medicine making, which are safe to ingest, and which to avoid.
- Cooking : She learned to cook for groups at the Monestary, finding it a needed task, but she finds it enjoyable as well.

Weakness(es):
Members of the clergy can only attack in self-defense, as shedding blood violates canon law.

Equipment:
Carries with her a copy of her teachings, her pectoral cross, a club and a leather breastplate for self defense, as well as various bottles, a few books for reference in her medicine-making, and tools to treat surface wounds. Her horse usually carries her supplies for her.

The Band of Fools

Lurking and on the fence about a C.S. unless I can think of something I can bring to the table.