icicle

Just My Luck[Icicle and HiddenBeauty13

...By the time he got back, he was already fairly exhausted, but there was enough water for a few days in each bucket, so he determined that the effort was worth it.

He announced his presence right as he walked back in, his hair still moderately damp. He placed the polearm right next to the door and walked over to the water basin. He pulled it off of the wooden cupboard it was resting on and brought it outside. He then cleaned it out with a small amount of water from one of the buckets, filled it up, and brought it over to the fire. Once the metal grill was in place, he put the metal basin over the fire to that it’d boil.

After this, he closed the door, put his robe back on, and sat down in the chair in front of the fire. Immediately he was reminded of the other day, and frowned. I shouldn't overwork myself, but... He had a good amount of time to think over his conflicting thoughts about whether or not resting in the chair was good for his mental health before hearing the familiar, but jarring sound of Raine's voice.

He turned quickly to look at her, as if breaking himself out of a trance. She was still preparing meat from the other day. He listened intently to what she had to say, but gave a shrug in response as he looked back over to the fire. He remembered back to his search of the house for sewing materials: he looked through the wardrobe that he found the robes in quite thoroughly, then started looking through other containers and potential hiding spots. Even with his investigation skills as a bounty hunter, he couldn't find any bare thread or needles. Guess Drake wouldn't care for sewing anyway. His hands are probably too big and clumsy. While the thought entertained Flake, he decided not to smile, and instead replied to Raine.

"Couldn't find any." He paused, then smirked dumbly and continued, "Well, I didn't find any needles or thread. Can't say I know much about sewing, so that's all I knew to look for." He almost felt like cringing after the words left his mouth. Sure, he wanted to clarify, but it left a bad taste in his mouth to reveal a weakness to a person whom he knew almost entirely by means of combat and second-hand information. He eyed her to gauge her response after he spoke, but kept the dumb smirk. After all, if I was worried about people knowing that I can't sew, I would be dead by now.

He expected her to be disappointed by the news - that there weren't any sewing supplies. Turns out that that's exactly how she reacted. He sighed, feeling as if some of her emotion was radiating over to him. "What I do when I don't have the right tool for the job is I improvise." He gestured over to the polearm that he practiced with. "Try making what you need. It'll pass the time." With this said, he eyed what she was working so hard on and asked, "speaking of which, anything I can do to help?"

Just My Luck[Icicle and HiddenBeauty13

IIT'SS ALLLIIIIVVVEEEEEEE!!!!

:O

Just My Luck[Icicle and HiddenBeauty13

Flake nodded over to the assassin as she responded, then continued eating. He noted that, after a few bites, his jaw was starting to get tired. It’s amazing what a few days can do to a man. Upon working his brain a little, he could visit the last memories he had before falling unconscious due to the poison. All he could see was Oruin’s worried expression. I guess it’s that poison which did all of this… He had already done enough exercise that day to know that his muscles were still numb. He was imprecise, weak, starved, and dehydrated.

But one thing he knew for sure was that he was awake. He had already dealt with the loose red robes, getting a fire started, and dealing with the urge to eat and to do something. He felt that the urge to do something was still unsatisfied, but that his hunger was satisfied.

When Raine walked over to the basement, he analyzed her for a second and nodded. He couldn’t quite describe the expression she was giving off… something between depression and lethargy, maybe. He was at least surprised to hear her say, “I’m going to sleep now…good night.” The pause was especially surprising, as if she didn’t know whether to say it or not.

Despite his surprise, Flake didn’t take long to respond. He calmly declared, “I still have some energy left, so I’m going to do a bit more training.” With this said, he smirked. Watching her descend the ladder made him wonder how trustworthy she was as an ally. Once she was out of sight, he continued, “rest well, miss Raine,” and headed over to the door. Her name didn’t quite feel right as he said it – it was almost too formal. They had already skirmished twice now, and even the first time, she didn’t seem particularly keen on killing him. The more he thought about it, the less he thought of her as an assassin. Perhaps she’s just that good, he thought, grinning widely as he closed the door behind him, then again, if she was, she never wouldn’t have gotten poisoned along with a guy like me.

As he walked over to the training area he had found previously, a small clearing with a bunch of bushes nearby, he paused and looked around. He wasn’t looking for something so much as a thought had caused him to doubt his sensory faculties for a moment. How did she get poisoned? She ate at the same time as me, but she wasn’t reacting when I did… He frowned and brought himself to a ready stance with his polearm out. She could’ve survived without food and water for three days if she knew it was poisoned,… Suddenly, a realization: …which means she intentionally let herself get poisoned…

He slammed the polearm of his weapon into the tree with a soft, angered grunt. He was furious. I managed to waste the only favor I had! He groaned. The more he swung the polearm around, the more he thought, and the more he hated his situation…up to a point. But, that also means that she has no alternative. She would have to be insane to lie at this point. He had seen Raine do one or two things that weren’t quite logical, but he could list of more than enough evidence at a moment’s notice to prove that she was sane. At least this thought gave him a bit of security that their situation wasn’t all bad.

But now we’re going to have to deal with all three of them…

……

Flake arrived back at the cottage at around 2000 hours and padlocked the door. He had made sure to check his surroundings to ensure that he wasn’t being tailed, and even got some tinder for the next morning. After drinking from the clean water in the basin, he mused that he’d have to get some more water from the river the next day. That makes four things I’ll have to do: Scout, Hunt, Train and Gather. He took a few moments to clean off the polearm with the fancy red robe, then headed downstairs with the polearm in hand.

He was sure to stay as quiet as possible without inconveniencing himself. If Raine was listening, she’d have already heard him enter, but he didn’t want to wake her up if she was already sleeping. He placed the polearm down next to the bedding that he had awoken on earlier that very day. There’s a lot to do, now that I have to deal with living in a new home for a few days… he thought to himself, gritting as he laid down on the bedding. The bedding and his robe worked together to make it very comfortable to lie there, despite the floor beneath being stone. He only managed to stay awake for a few minutes before drifting off to sleep.

-------

Flake awoke the next morning rather early, at around 6:20am, about a half hour before sunrise. He looked around after waking up and soon realized that the building he was in was not home. He gradually remembered the events of the previous day and stretched a little before quietly rising to his feet. He picked up his polearm and quietly went upstairs to start a small fire, feeling groggy and bruised. He was still recovering from his injuries and poison, but he at least didn’t feel as numb anymore.

Once he was up the ladder, he walked over to the fireplace, found a straight twig and a flat log, and took a few minutes to start another fire. He was already used to starting fires by using this technique, since he did it at his own house when he wasn’t bounty hunting. But that didn’t make it any less hard on his hands.

Once the fire was big enough to cook, smoke, or clean water with, he left it and wandered over to the remaining blocks of meat from the previous night. He ate a few, enough so that he wouldn’t feel hungry any more, but not enough to feel satisfied. As he was eating, he saw Raine rise from the basement and greeted her. “Morning.” It was a simple greeting. He didn’t feel like anything more was warranted. Once he licked his fingers clean and wiped off some of the grime with his robe, he walked over to the door and announced, “I’m going to go get some water from the river so that we can refill that basin. Do what you want with what’s left in there.” With that, he pulled off the robe, now dressed only in the loose-fitting pants and his belt, and walked out of the cottage with his polearm in tow.

He looked around the exterior of the cottage for buckets and eventually found a pole with two of the large-sized buckets on it. He also found a bathing trough big enough for the cottage’s owner to use. The image of the clumsy hunk of steel diving into the large wooden bowl brought a smile to the bounty hunter’s face. But he doubted that either he or his companion would get any use out of it, so he left the trough where it rested and brought both his polearm and the bucket-carrying-pole over his shoulders.

Flake then walked all the way over to the river. Once he got there, he dropped his gear, scouted around for a few minutes, dove into the river, and walked back out, feeling cleaner. He filled both of the large buckets with water and, with a grunt, managed to stand up with the pole on his back. It was hard to walk with both buckets, but he thought of it as a good strength and balance exercise. By the time he got back, he was already fairly exhausted, but there was enough water for a few days in each bucket, so he determined that the effort was worth it.

He announced his presence right as he walked back in, his hair still moderately damp. He placed the polearm right next to the door and walked over to the water basin. He pulled it off of the wooden cupboard it was resting on and brought it outside. He then cleaned it out with a small amount of water from one of the buckets, filled it up, and brought it over to the fire. Once the metal grill was in place, he put the metal basin over the fire to that it’d boil.

After this, he closed the door, put his robe back on, and took a few minutes to rest.

The Potter St. Theater

I'm fine with waiting until you're able to reply more. As long as you want to continue roleplaying with me, feel free to respond someday.

Just My Luck[Icicle and HiddenBeauty13

Name: Kenenniah Alphanso I
Alias: Flake
Sex: Male
Age: 20
Occupation: Bounty Hunter

Appearance:

His eyes are often bloodshot, his eyelids heavy from sleep, and his body is usually deprived of food. Dirt crusts all of the jet-black hair on his head, the likes of which he never styles and rarely cuts. He never shaves, instead opting to use a dagger to cut hair off when it gets too long for his convenience. Usually, this means he has facial stubble and relatively short hair. His teeth are more-or-less aligned, and are mostly yellow, but he has one missing tooth on the right side of his lower jaw. His jaw is fairly sharp, and his chin is rounded. Overall, he has a rough look to him.

His body is lean and very muscular. He has dense bones, dense muscles, and thick, calloused skin. He is about average height, 5'8", and weighs around 130lbs. His strength is divided about evenly between his upper and lower body, and he is extremely agile. His body is iron-hard from years of combat, and he wears many scars on his exposed flesh, many of which he treated himself.

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Personality: Harsh and exacting, but seeks moral good. Makes puns and jokes to himself. He has great wisdom and charisma, although he isn't too knowledgeable about much aside from economics and combat. His main personality feature is his control over his emotions - he doesn't like it when people learn more about him than he learns about them, so he takes great pains to blank out his expressions when around hostile influences. In addition, he is a loner, but is very sociable. He likes to play with other people and to learn from them as much as possible. His playfulness is rarely more prominent than a mere mischievous tendency, but he is prone to making games out of otherwise boring situations even when it inconveniences others.

The one most important part of his personality is that he is rarely serious. He jokes a lot so that he can keep himself thinking. When he stops thinking is when he becomes most dangerous, since he defaults to analysis of his surroundings, and consequently, the weaknesses of those around him. He is only serious when he is in a truly challenging situation, or when his life is at stake, and he rarely offers mercy or consideration to others when in this state, despite his tendency for moral goodness.

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Backstory: Flake grew up under the close observation of her father, who was the captain of the Talgot city guard. Talgot was the capitol of Kiodomn, the kingdom in which he lived. Sheckels were the main currency, and thirty were needed each month to provide modest accommodations and enough food for one person to survive. His childhood wasn't very difficult since his father earned enough for the family, but one day, his father didn't return from work. After that day, Flake and his mother tried making a living on their own, but his mother ended up starving herself to keep her son alive.

To avoid squandering his mother's efforts, Flake ended up trying to join the guard force of Talgot. He learned after joining the guard that it was a burdensome job full of ass-kissing and chores as opposed to actual fighting, so he gritted his teeth and bore with it as he searched for another job. During this time, he weighed three options: he could try to get an honest job like a guard, he could join in competitions to make money, like a bar-fighter, or he could get an illegal job, like an assassin. As he searched, he found the perfect role model, and thusly, the perfect job: The Bounty Hunter.

He immediately quit his job as a guard by challenging the guard captain, Drake, to a duel. He ended up winning the duel, then used his fame to march into the Sweeper's Hall and ask for a bounty. From that day forward, his legacy as a bounty hunter began. He would spare many of his victims if he saw it morally right and they let him exchange their lives for proof of their death. He only had to kill a few of his targets, and even then, he never did so by accident. The Sweeper started to respect him quite quickly. But that's when the Hardest Night of Winter came along and he earned his nickname, "Flake."

The Hardest Night of Winter is an event that he rarely talks about due to how gruesome and horrific it was. The word "genocide" would be inadequate for describing the event. A mixture of snow, thunder, and monstrous creatures attacked the town and darned near annihilated the guard forces. But Flake teamed up with Drake and repelled the creatures by analyzing their attacks and telling Drake what to do. Drake himself gave Flake the nickname since he supposedly, "danced through the wind like a snowflake, untouchable, unseeable, heartless, cold, and deadly." Flake decided to keep the name, since it was the first and only accolade he had to his name aside from his successful bounty hunting.

Immediately after getting the name of Flake, the Sweeper of Talgot honored him with the unnamed bounty they had in reserve. Flake eagerly accepted it, completely unaware of the lasting implications of doing so.

And so the story continues...

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Equipment:
- Armor: He has a set of leather armor that covers his body from the base of his neck to his ankles, leaving only his hands and feet exposed. Beneath the leather armor is a set of thinly-woven steel chainmail and thin cloth padding, and there are metal ribs along the forearm sections of the armor. He wears dark leather boots with iron-plated and cushioned soles.
- Weapons: He uses a straight, 50cm long falchion with a smoothed and ergonomically designed ebony handle and a weighted pummel. The hand-guard on the weapon is minimal. He has three balanced daggers arranged parallel to his oblique. Additionally, he keeps a composite shortbow with a draw weight of 60lbs in his rucksack(unstrung).
- Carrying Equipment: He has a rucksack with 2 cubic feet of volume and 40lbs of carrying capacity, one quiver with 20 arrows, and a bandolier that can hold up to 3 daggers. He also has a coin purse that is almost always empty.
- Other Equipment: Varies. Usually he has a set of spare clothes, a mirror, and at least one day's worth of food and water in his rucksack. Sometimes he carries extra supplies or equipment to carry out a bounty.

Escape from Syrae (Irell Starling)

I have been passionate about this roleplay from start to finish and put as much effort into making it as good as possible as I could. Clearly I failed. I couldn't detect a single bit of passion in your writing from start to finish. I guess you used this roleplay as an outlet for your stress and anger or something, since that's all you ever brought into our OOC conversation.

I'm glad you chose me to throw your stress and anger at instead of some other innocent soul who may have been impressioned negatively by it. I deleted the content of all my previous posts after reflecing on them briefly. Now you could look back on this thread and reflect about your own actions, instead of pointing at mine like you always have. Maybe then you'll see some of the stuff you posted on here from my own perspective. Maybe not.

Either way, I wish you well...

...and hope that we never meet again.

-Icicle

Escape from Syrae (Irell Starling)

Done

Escape from Syrae (Irell Starling)

Done

Escape from Syrae (Irell Starling)

Done

Escape from Syrae (Irell Starling)

Done