Tristan left the gamblers' tent and took a deep breath of the fresh cool air. The sinking temperature didn't matter to her so much. She'd always run rather warm, and her father said it was from the touch of hellfire that made her so brazen. Truth was, she got it from her father, and running hot was a family trait that was useful in life in a coastal castle prone to taking the brunt of hurricanes from the rest of Britannia.
While not cold, she was quite hungry by now. The vigorous activity of the day was catching up to her, and aside from stiffening shoulders Tristan was starting to dream of roast boar and potatoes. She made her way swiftly back up through the various tents and pavilions toward the feast area. Perhaps her she would find young Kay to congratulate. She hadn't really met Sir Ector before, and she was a little wary of the old man's reaction to her gender, but he wouldn't be the first knight to send a sour glance her way.
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Nobodyman these might be useful to you. Just from googling, here are:
Sites within Cornwall from myth:
http://www.king-arthur.co.uk/_/rsrc/1260977249634/home/Arthurian%20Map%201%2Btitle%20gs1_edited-1.jpg
The general layout of countries in Authurian legend:
http://www.earlybritishkingdoms.com/arthur/images/literarymap.gif
or
http://www.avalon.co.uk/map.gif
Lyonesse, where Tristan is from, is a sort of Atlantis of British mythology which sank into the sea. So imagine the peninsula that is Cornwall extending a bit further with the small kingship on its end, a defense against raiders from southern end of the channel (normans/franks,mostly. What we now as France today if I recall correctly.)
Its up to Nobodyman if we want to use these officially.
Sites within Cornwall from myth:
http://www.king-arthur.co.uk/_/rsrc/1260977249634/home/Arthurian%20Map%201%2Btitle%20gs1_edited-1.jpg
The general layout of countries in Authurian legend:
http://www.earlybritishkingdoms.com/arthur/images/literarymap.gif
or
http://www.avalon.co.uk/map.gif
Lyonesse, where Tristan is from, is a sort of Atlantis of British mythology which sank into the sea. So imagine the peninsula that is Cornwall extending a bit further with the small kingship on its end, a defense against raiders from southern end of the channel (normans/franks,mostly. What we now as France today if I recall correctly.)
Its up to Nobodyman if we want to use these officially.
Alexandra couldn't believe what she was seeing. Was that scythe really not there before? As the dean spoke, singling her out for a moment, her anxiety rose and her blood quickened in her veins.
As this Ramon made his way to the stage, she realized she was gripping the seat arms so hard her knuckles were white. He'll kill him...
Enough of this Halloween shit. While eyes were on Ramon, she slid down in her seat, then out of it crouching down to hide between the rows. She crawled toward the aisle, took a deep breath, then jumped up and ran for the exit.
As this Ramon made his way to the stage, she realized she was gripping the seat arms so hard her knuckles were white. He'll kill him...
Enough of this Halloween shit. While eyes were on Ramon, she slid down in her seat, then out of it crouching down to hide between the rows. She crawled toward the aisle, took a deep breath, then jumped up and ran for the exit.
A few minutes walk had Tristan at a dirty looking tent full of men who were drinking and dicing. As she entered, a cry went up, "The wench with the sword!!" Unsure of whether this was friendly hailing or mocking, she just gave a smile to the drunkards and made her way to a table where a worn old man with two large body guards counted coin. She sat down at the chair opposite of him and slipped out her paper where she had won betting against Mordred in favor of Kay.
"You know, some's say it'd be a treason to bet against one's king." said the old man in a voice that belied a life of drinking and smoking.
"Some's say it'd be a fool who argues with a knight who just championed the swords..." Tristan responded smoothly.
"Some's a wise folk." The old man gave a crooked smile and looked over his little book. "Ah well here, I see you won some pretty odds indeed, Lady,"
"Sir." she corrected sharply.
"Aye?" he asked.
"Sir. Not Lady. There's none here that shan't call me by my proper title. It's Sir, and you'll remember it." she said darkly. There was no playing with these people. A little heckling at the tourney could slide, but that game was over.
"Of course, Sir, I was only being polite to a- never mind. Well. Your odds being what they are..." he counted out the coins according to the odds, and Tristan watched counting with him in her head until it was all there.
"Here you are m'- Sir. M'Sir," the man said, bumbling over titles.
"That's not how..." She stopped and shook her head, but reached out and took her coins. "The paupers of Cornwall thank you," she said and gave him a final nod before exiting the dirty gambler's tent. The sinful gains would be deposited into the poor box at the larger chapel where the monks would use it to supplement the poor and disabled, and in doing so she'd buy her pardon of her sin with fewer Hail Mary's.
"You know, some's say it'd be a treason to bet against one's king." said the old man in a voice that belied a life of drinking and smoking.
"Some's say it'd be a fool who argues with a knight who just championed the swords..." Tristan responded smoothly.
"Some's a wise folk." The old man gave a crooked smile and looked over his little book. "Ah well here, I see you won some pretty odds indeed, Lady,"
"Sir." she corrected sharply.
"Aye?" he asked.
"Sir. Not Lady. There's none here that shan't call me by my proper title. It's Sir, and you'll remember it." she said darkly. There was no playing with these people. A little heckling at the tourney could slide, but that game was over.
"Of course, Sir, I was only being polite to a- never mind. Well. Your odds being what they are..." he counted out the coins according to the odds, and Tristan watched counting with him in her head until it was all there.
"Here you are m'- Sir. M'Sir," the man said, bumbling over titles.
"That's not how..." She stopped and shook her head, but reached out and took her coins. "The paupers of Cornwall thank you," she said and gave him a final nod before exiting the dirty gambler's tent. The sinful gains would be deposited into the poor box at the larger chapel where the monks would use it to supplement the poor and disabled, and in doing so she'd buy her pardon of her sin with fewer Hail Mary's.
Real life comes first. If you come back to this later, I'll still be interested.
Breathe in, 1...2...3.... breathe out.... 1....2....3...
Alexandra took in her breath and released it slowly, just like Dr. Higgins had taught her. The exercise was only vaguely working. It was so stifling among all these people, and she just wanted to get away. But, orientation problems. Way too many people. For now, she slumped a little in her chair and let her hair fall around her face for comfort.
She was glad when most of the students left the orientation, save for the special invitees. That was her status, the letter had come to her by way of Dr. Higgins, her shrink. He was the only one who didn't call her crazy when she talked about the dreams. He didn't seem to want to give her details, but when her parents heard of the full ride she wasn't left with a choice but to go. There seemed to be a lot of negative energy in the room now, some students seemed to be bothering others. She kept to herself in her seat, though she watched goings-ons through her hair curtain. Maybe she should leave before this gets started, pretend she wasn't a "special invitee" and just go to class and skip the honors society crap... Jesus she'd been a C student, how honorific could this even be? What, was this some kind of idiot outreach program? She began to resent Dr. Higgins at that thought.
F*ck my life. she thought to herself, rubbing her drowsy eyes. The other "special invitees" were nitpicking each other and some were rather aggressive. What, did they all get shipped in straight from juvie?? She was starting to get up and leave like a normal student when the speaker began again, finally. She slumped back down in her seat reluctantly.
Alexandra took in her breath and released it slowly, just like Dr. Higgins had taught her. The exercise was only vaguely working. It was so stifling among all these people, and she just wanted to get away. But, orientation problems. Way too many people. For now, she slumped a little in her chair and let her hair fall around her face for comfort.
She was glad when most of the students left the orientation, save for the special invitees. That was her status, the letter had come to her by way of Dr. Higgins, her shrink. He was the only one who didn't call her crazy when she talked about the dreams. He didn't seem to want to give her details, but when her parents heard of the full ride she wasn't left with a choice but to go. There seemed to be a lot of negative energy in the room now, some students seemed to be bothering others. She kept to herself in her seat, though she watched goings-ons through her hair curtain. Maybe she should leave before this gets started, pretend she wasn't a "special invitee" and just go to class and skip the honors society crap... Jesus she'd been a C student, how honorific could this even be? What, was this some kind of idiot outreach program? She began to resent Dr. Higgins at that thought.
F*ck my life. she thought to herself, rubbing her drowsy eyes. The other "special invitees" were nitpicking each other and some were rather aggressive. What, did they all get shipped in straight from juvie?? She was starting to get up and leave like a normal student when the speaker began again, finally. She slumped back down in her seat reluctantly.
That's fantastic they're supportive of you, and it sounds like you had one hell of a scholarship! I hope that if you back for another degree you're as lucky! :)
I just think that a bit of jail time would cure that Affluenza right up.
Alias: Briar Rose
Age: 19
Gender: F
Race: Human. Descendant of Briar Rose, La Belle au bois Dormant
Homeland: La Havre, France
Dark blonde hair, brown eyes, and a smooth complexion as afforded by her myriad of skin care products and life of leisure.
French, English, with some German if she needs it.
Eulalie is a bit spoiled, and a bit of a fashion fanatic. She wears a lot of frilly things with corsets, laces, and layers. When on the hunt, she wears a modified riding habit with a boiled leather breastplate fitted to her form on the exterior. The breeches of her habit is made from leather, rather than the tweed the jacket is made from.
Sweets, riding horseback, and seeing paintings.
This "Ketchup" Americans insist on spreading on their meals, wet gunpowder, and long sea voyages.
Mademoiselle Bellerose is a woman of means, daughter of a Comte et de la Comtesse, and didn't require a profession. Her family keeps her on an allowance for the time being.
Lala has trained in shooting pistols.
Lala has trained in shooting pistols, but her real value is in her magic. She uses debuffs to hold her enemies in place so she can shoot them better.
Eulalie has a lady's maid that attends her named Georgine Bonhomme.
She's spoiled, a bit petulant, and snobby. She needs work. Hopefully socialization among commoners will help her come down off her high horse. Let's just say she got into some social trouble and her parents are tired of her shit.
A descendant of old French nobility, Lala had been residing comfortable and happily in La Havre. She is a proper lady, and rather unaccustomed to these... charming Americans and their lifestyle. She's a bit proud, as her family has a long traceable line of nobility and managed to keep a large portion of their wealth intact during both eras of revolution, and as their had a lineage their titles were restored
On the one hand, anytime she pricks her finger on anything she passes out cold, but she does wake up after a few hours. Her family regards this as a "streak of narcolepsy" that runs in the family. Paper cuts are a real bother. On the other, like the re-awakening of the kingdom as Briar Rose was revived with a kiss, Lala is developing a Régénérer healing power, but it may take some personality adjustments to really unlock it's power.
Alias: Briar Rose
Age: 19
Gender: F
Race: Human. Descendant of Briar Rose, La Belle au bois Dormant
Homeland: La Havre, France
Dark blonde hair, brown eyes, and a smooth complexion as afforded by her myriad of skin care products and life of leisure.
French, English, with some German if she needs it. Latin, from the Catholic Church, but she doesn't converse in it. She's better at reading it.
Eulalie is a bit spoiled, and a bit of a fashion fanatic. She wears a lot of frilly things with corsets, laces, and layers. When on the hunt, she wears a modified riding habit with a boiled leather breastplate fitted to her form on the exterior. The breeches of her habit is made from leather, rather than the tweed the jacket is made from.
Sweets, riding horseback, and seeing paintings.
This "Ketchup" Americans insist on spreading on their meals, wet gunpowder, and long sea voyages.
Mademoiselle Bellerose is a woman of means, daughter of a Comte et de la Comtesse, and didn't require a profession. Her family keeps her on an allowance for the time being.
Lala has trained in shooting pistols.
Lala has trained in shooting pistols, but her real value is in her magic. She uses debuffs to hold her enemies in place so she can shoot them better.
Eulalie has a lady's maid that attends her named Georgine Bonhomme.
She's spoiled, a bit petulant, and snobby. She needs work. Hopefully socialization among commoners will help her come down off her high horse. Let's just say she got into some social trouble and her parents are tired of her shit.
A descendant of old French nobility, Lala had been residing comfortable and happily in La Havre. She is a proper lady, and rather unaccustomed to these... charming Americans and their lifestyle. She's a bit proud, as her family has a long traceable line of nobility and managed to keep a large portion of their wealth intact during both eras of revolution, and as their had a lineage their titles were restored
On the one hand, anytime she pricks her finger on anything she passes out cold, but she does wake up after a few hours. Her family regards this as a "streak of narcolepsy" that runs in the family. Paper cuts are a real bother. On the other, like the re-awakening of the kingdom as Briar Rose was revived with a kiss, Lala is developing a Régénérer healing power, but it may take some personality adjustments to really unlock it's power.
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