The chatbox has been hidden for this page. It will reopen upon refresh. To hide the CBox permanently, select "Permanently Toggle Cbox" in your profile User Settings.
This chatbox is hidden. To reopen, edit your User Settings.
Marietta had been awake for a few days now, but Evi couldn’t exactly say that she was better. She was out of bed, yes, and hobbling around. She smiled at all the right moments, and spoke when she was spoken to. But there was something about her that was just not quite right. It was like she wasn’t all… there. It was heartbreaking to see. Evi wanted nothing more than to have he sister back and whilst she was thrilled that Marietta was awake again, it wasn’t the same. The riots were still spoken of, and each time they were brought up only seemed to help Marietta find more and more creative excuses as to why working on her projects was as essential to her as the air in the atmosphere.
She spent a lot of time alone for that very reason. Marietta never directly told evi to leave her alone, but Evi knew that her older sister was getting annoyed with the shadow that seemed to follow her everywhere, as if she didn’t have enough weighing on her mind already.
In search of… well a cure for Evi, there were no such healers in Athenia. They had healed her body well enough, but it was her mind that Evi was more worried about now. What if her sister never came back to herself as she once was? It was this search that had brought her to Attia, her other sister’s province. Her parents had allowed her to go with a retinue of guards and servants, each with their own tasking to look after the daughter of a lord and lady. They hadn’t been thrilled, of course, not with the dissent still rife in the nation, but when Evi had explained her mission, they knew it was not something Evi would let go of, so it was easier to send her on her way than keep her locked up in the archontiko house and grounds.
It was one such healer that she had just finished speaking with. A man whose name she had already forgotten when she realised he would be of no help in her plight. He was the sixth? Seventh? Well something-th healer she had spoken to today. Evi had actually only arrived in the province that morning, after travelling foremost of the day. “My Lady, you really should rest,” came the voice of one of the servants who hurried up to keep pace with her, “why don’t we head back to the Kalospíti Sotiria, I’m sure they’ve prepared you a marvellous dinner, and we can begin your search anew tomorrow.”
“I didn’t come here to eat food,” Evi replied shortly as she dragged a frustrated hand through her hair. With her was the servant who had just spoken and a handful of guards. The remainder had returned to her family’s seat with orders to prepare a room for her. “I’m here for my sister, and I don’t have much time.” She had convinced herself that the longer she left it, the worse her sister would get. She needed this resolved soon. Within the next few days, though now was preferable. Given the choice she would be back in the carriage with a healer tonight, travelling through the night to make it back to the capital as soon as possible. It was of paramount interest for her to save her sister.
Though she didn’t know how. She couldn’t even put her finger on what was wrong with Marietta. It was hard to try to explain it to the healers, and she supposed that was half the problem. Her mind was frazzled with worry, and it was clouding her judgement. For someone who always had something to say in any situation - and often the right thing to say - she was at a loss for how to explain her sister’s illness. It wasn’t normal for her to not have the right words. Evi stopped her stalking pace and turned to stare at the servant, as if only now really processing his request. Her hand went back to her hairline - something it had been doing all day. “Maybe you’re right.” She turned left, away from her original quarry, back to what would be her residence for the next night at least.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Marietta had been awake for a few days now, but Evi couldn’t exactly say that she was better. She was out of bed, yes, and hobbling around. She smiled at all the right moments, and spoke when she was spoken to. But there was something about her that was just not quite right. It was like she wasn’t all… there. It was heartbreaking to see. Evi wanted nothing more than to have he sister back and whilst she was thrilled that Marietta was awake again, it wasn’t the same. The riots were still spoken of, and each time they were brought up only seemed to help Marietta find more and more creative excuses as to why working on her projects was as essential to her as the air in the atmosphere.
She spent a lot of time alone for that very reason. Marietta never directly told evi to leave her alone, but Evi knew that her older sister was getting annoyed with the shadow that seemed to follow her everywhere, as if she didn’t have enough weighing on her mind already.
In search of… well a cure for Evi, there were no such healers in Athenia. They had healed her body well enough, but it was her mind that Evi was more worried about now. What if her sister never came back to herself as she once was? It was this search that had brought her to Attia, her other sister’s province. Her parents had allowed her to go with a retinue of guards and servants, each with their own tasking to look after the daughter of a lord and lady. They hadn’t been thrilled, of course, not with the dissent still rife in the nation, but when Evi had explained her mission, they knew it was not something Evi would let go of, so it was easier to send her on her way than keep her locked up in the archontiko house and grounds.
It was one such healer that she had just finished speaking with. A man whose name she had already forgotten when she realised he would be of no help in her plight. He was the sixth? Seventh? Well something-th healer she had spoken to today. Evi had actually only arrived in the province that morning, after travelling foremost of the day. “My Lady, you really should rest,” came the voice of one of the servants who hurried up to keep pace with her, “why don’t we head back to the Kalospíti Sotiria, I’m sure they’ve prepared you a marvellous dinner, and we can begin your search anew tomorrow.”
“I didn’t come here to eat food,” Evi replied shortly as she dragged a frustrated hand through her hair. With her was the servant who had just spoken and a handful of guards. The remainder had returned to her family’s seat with orders to prepare a room for her. “I’m here for my sister, and I don’t have much time.” She had convinced herself that the longer she left it, the worse her sister would get. She needed this resolved soon. Within the next few days, though now was preferable. Given the choice she would be back in the carriage with a healer tonight, travelling through the night to make it back to the capital as soon as possible. It was of paramount interest for her to save her sister.
Though she didn’t know how. She couldn’t even put her finger on what was wrong with Marietta. It was hard to try to explain it to the healers, and she supposed that was half the problem. Her mind was frazzled with worry, and it was clouding her judgement. For someone who always had something to say in any situation - and often the right thing to say - she was at a loss for how to explain her sister’s illness. It wasn’t normal for her to not have the right words. Evi stopped her stalking pace and turned to stare at the servant, as if only now really processing his request. Her hand went back to her hairline - something it had been doing all day. “Maybe you’re right.” She turned left, away from her original quarry, back to what would be her residence for the next night at least.
Marietta had been awake for a few days now, but Evi couldn’t exactly say that she was better. She was out of bed, yes, and hobbling around. She smiled at all the right moments, and spoke when she was spoken to. But there was something about her that was just not quite right. It was like she wasn’t all… there. It was heartbreaking to see. Evi wanted nothing more than to have he sister back and whilst she was thrilled that Marietta was awake again, it wasn’t the same. The riots were still spoken of, and each time they were brought up only seemed to help Marietta find more and more creative excuses as to why working on her projects was as essential to her as the air in the atmosphere.
She spent a lot of time alone for that very reason. Marietta never directly told evi to leave her alone, but Evi knew that her older sister was getting annoyed with the shadow that seemed to follow her everywhere, as if she didn’t have enough weighing on her mind already.
In search of… well a cure for Evi, there were no such healers in Athenia. They had healed her body well enough, but it was her mind that Evi was more worried about now. What if her sister never came back to herself as she once was? It was this search that had brought her to Attia, her other sister’s province. Her parents had allowed her to go with a retinue of guards and servants, each with their own tasking to look after the daughter of a lord and lady. They hadn’t been thrilled, of course, not with the dissent still rife in the nation, but when Evi had explained her mission, they knew it was not something Evi would let go of, so it was easier to send her on her way than keep her locked up in the archontiko house and grounds.
It was one such healer that she had just finished speaking with. A man whose name she had already forgotten when she realised he would be of no help in her plight. He was the sixth? Seventh? Well something-th healer she had spoken to today. Evi had actually only arrived in the province that morning, after travelling foremost of the day. “My Lady, you really should rest,” came the voice of one of the servants who hurried up to keep pace with her, “why don’t we head back to the Kalospíti Sotiria, I’m sure they’ve prepared you a marvellous dinner, and we can begin your search anew tomorrow.”
“I didn’t come here to eat food,” Evi replied shortly as she dragged a frustrated hand through her hair. With her was the servant who had just spoken and a handful of guards. The remainder had returned to her family’s seat with orders to prepare a room for her. “I’m here for my sister, and I don’t have much time.” She had convinced herself that the longer she left it, the worse her sister would get. She needed this resolved soon. Within the next few days, though now was preferable. Given the choice she would be back in the carriage with a healer tonight, travelling through the night to make it back to the capital as soon as possible. It was of paramount interest for her to save her sister.
Though she didn’t know how. She couldn’t even put her finger on what was wrong with Marietta. It was hard to try to explain it to the healers, and she supposed that was half the problem. Her mind was frazzled with worry, and it was clouding her judgement. For someone who always had something to say in any situation - and often the right thing to say - she was at a loss for how to explain her sister’s illness. It wasn’t normal for her to not have the right words. Evi stopped her stalking pace and turned to stare at the servant, as if only now really processing his request. Her hand went back to her hairline - something it had been doing all day. “Maybe you’re right.” She turned left, away from her original quarry, back to what would be her residence for the next night at least.
"Listen here, bright-eyes. You better get your ass off my back or I'll throw you on yours."
It was too early in the day for some cretin's meddlesome antics to deprive him of his score. A young man with a sack full of owls was looking over Aivon's little game. Three cups, a single pebble nestled in one of them. Practised hands had them cups whirling, the pebble making no noise against the padded interior but scratched against the stone surface of the floor. It was clever little ruse. Tiny slots carved into the ground were covered by the cups as they shifted, motions too quick to give the viewer a proper opportunity to figure out the ploy until well after they'd already betted.
Three stones, each in their cup, until the point where each inevitably fell and left one scratching against the floor. When his quarry made their choice, Aivon lifted his hand, revealing an empty cup. Owls poured out and Aivon quickly took them, dust smoothing out the floor as he walked away with his cups and his money. Tossing the things aside, Aivon decided his palms were in need of cleansing and his palate satisfied. A graceful gait swept him out of the alley just as the poor fool shouted out. Clearly, his ploy had been discovered, but by the time it was, he was long gone.
Owls danced between his fingertips before his thumb flicked over one and sent it flying into the air. Catching it in his hand, he traded for a himation and the courtesy of washing his hands at a nearby stall. Throwing the garment over his shoulders and raising it to sheathe his head in a hood, Aivon blended into the relative reverie of Attia. The provinces did not suffer as blatantly as the capitol, though beady eyes and empty souls continued to litter the streets. The sordid state of the country affected every soul differently, and Aivon merely chuckled at the notion of their misfortune, quite eager to monopolize on their boredom, frustration and pent-up anger to goad them out of what little they had.
"My lady, you really should rest."
A female voice rung out in the distance, clearly beseeching and as frustrated as the rest. By the timbre of her words, she was young, and was speaking up to her companion, denoting a position of service against one of power. A noble? What business did a noble lady have in Attia? Compulsion, and perhaps, greed, spurred him forth as he looked over the company she kept.
That's not the sort of attachment a noble has? Royal blooded? Not a Marikas.
He'd recognize them by now, having been well acquainted with the family in the days he spent in their manor undergoing their little trial. While Pavlos insisted that he stay, Aivon was defiant, and had little intention of following orders when he wasn't being paid for it. He was due back in a couple days, and was more than keen to enjoy them. Lips curved as his curiosity peaked, and he drew himself nearer to hear the servant going on about a marvelous dinner and a search for... something?
This is Attia. Maybe she's after a medic.
He didn't really care. He was curious and demanded to know exactly who this woman was, in order to sate the persistent nagging in his skull.
"My lady," he interjected, weaving through and directly intercepting her retinue. He did not kneel, but inclined his head in a respectful motion as he counted the number of people in her retinue. Tilting his head, dark eyes met the young lady's own striking blue as he asked,
"What is it you're searching for? Perhaps I could help?"
The tinge of his accent, despite his years in Greece speaking the language, showed in the lowly spoken question. His lips curved in a beseeching smile as the looks of servants turned sour.
"Two minds are better than one, and the help seems too concerned for your safety to address the actual concerns weighing on your poor soul."
Carefully, he measured his words, all too willing to play the sympathetic game as he found Evi's striking visage all too suited to his tastes.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
"Listen here, bright-eyes. You better get your ass off my back or I'll throw you on yours."
It was too early in the day for some cretin's meddlesome antics to deprive him of his score. A young man with a sack full of owls was looking over Aivon's little game. Three cups, a single pebble nestled in one of them. Practised hands had them cups whirling, the pebble making no noise against the padded interior but scratched against the stone surface of the floor. It was clever little ruse. Tiny slots carved into the ground were covered by the cups as they shifted, motions too quick to give the viewer a proper opportunity to figure out the ploy until well after they'd already betted.
Three stones, each in their cup, until the point where each inevitably fell and left one scratching against the floor. When his quarry made their choice, Aivon lifted his hand, revealing an empty cup. Owls poured out and Aivon quickly took them, dust smoothing out the floor as he walked away with his cups and his money. Tossing the things aside, Aivon decided his palms were in need of cleansing and his palate satisfied. A graceful gait swept him out of the alley just as the poor fool shouted out. Clearly, his ploy had been discovered, but by the time it was, he was long gone.
Owls danced between his fingertips before his thumb flicked over one and sent it flying into the air. Catching it in his hand, he traded for a himation and the courtesy of washing his hands at a nearby stall. Throwing the garment over his shoulders and raising it to sheathe his head in a hood, Aivon blended into the relative reverie of Attia. The provinces did not suffer as blatantly as the capitol, though beady eyes and empty souls continued to litter the streets. The sordid state of the country affected every soul differently, and Aivon merely chuckled at the notion of their misfortune, quite eager to monopolize on their boredom, frustration and pent-up anger to goad them out of what little they had.
"My lady, you really should rest."
A female voice rung out in the distance, clearly beseeching and as frustrated as the rest. By the timbre of her words, she was young, and was speaking up to her companion, denoting a position of service against one of power. A noble? What business did a noble lady have in Attia? Compulsion, and perhaps, greed, spurred him forth as he looked over the company she kept.
That's not the sort of attachment a noble has? Royal blooded? Not a Marikas.
He'd recognize them by now, having been well acquainted with the family in the days he spent in their manor undergoing their little trial. While Pavlos insisted that he stay, Aivon was defiant, and had little intention of following orders when he wasn't being paid for it. He was due back in a couple days, and was more than keen to enjoy them. Lips curved as his curiosity peaked, and he drew himself nearer to hear the servant going on about a marvelous dinner and a search for... something?
This is Attia. Maybe she's after a medic.
He didn't really care. He was curious and demanded to know exactly who this woman was, in order to sate the persistent nagging in his skull.
"My lady," he interjected, weaving through and directly intercepting her retinue. He did not kneel, but inclined his head in a respectful motion as he counted the number of people in her retinue. Tilting his head, dark eyes met the young lady's own striking blue as he asked,
"What is it you're searching for? Perhaps I could help?"
The tinge of his accent, despite his years in Greece speaking the language, showed in the lowly spoken question. His lips curved in a beseeching smile as the looks of servants turned sour.
"Two minds are better than one, and the help seems too concerned for your safety to address the actual concerns weighing on your poor soul."
Carefully, he measured his words, all too willing to play the sympathetic game as he found Evi's striking visage all too suited to his tastes.
"Listen here, bright-eyes. You better get your ass off my back or I'll throw you on yours."
It was too early in the day for some cretin's meddlesome antics to deprive him of his score. A young man with a sack full of owls was looking over Aivon's little game. Three cups, a single pebble nestled in one of them. Practised hands had them cups whirling, the pebble making no noise against the padded interior but scratched against the stone surface of the floor. It was clever little ruse. Tiny slots carved into the ground were covered by the cups as they shifted, motions too quick to give the viewer a proper opportunity to figure out the ploy until well after they'd already betted.
Three stones, each in their cup, until the point where each inevitably fell and left one scratching against the floor. When his quarry made their choice, Aivon lifted his hand, revealing an empty cup. Owls poured out and Aivon quickly took them, dust smoothing out the floor as he walked away with his cups and his money. Tossing the things aside, Aivon decided his palms were in need of cleansing and his palate satisfied. A graceful gait swept him out of the alley just as the poor fool shouted out. Clearly, his ploy had been discovered, but by the time it was, he was long gone.
Owls danced between his fingertips before his thumb flicked over one and sent it flying into the air. Catching it in his hand, he traded for a himation and the courtesy of washing his hands at a nearby stall. Throwing the garment over his shoulders and raising it to sheathe his head in a hood, Aivon blended into the relative reverie of Attia. The provinces did not suffer as blatantly as the capitol, though beady eyes and empty souls continued to litter the streets. The sordid state of the country affected every soul differently, and Aivon merely chuckled at the notion of their misfortune, quite eager to monopolize on their boredom, frustration and pent-up anger to goad them out of what little they had.
"My lady, you really should rest."
A female voice rung out in the distance, clearly beseeching and as frustrated as the rest. By the timbre of her words, she was young, and was speaking up to her companion, denoting a position of service against one of power. A noble? What business did a noble lady have in Attia? Compulsion, and perhaps, greed, spurred him forth as he looked over the company she kept.
That's not the sort of attachment a noble has? Royal blooded? Not a Marikas.
He'd recognize them by now, having been well acquainted with the family in the days he spent in their manor undergoing their little trial. While Pavlos insisted that he stay, Aivon was defiant, and had little intention of following orders when he wasn't being paid for it. He was due back in a couple days, and was more than keen to enjoy them. Lips curved as his curiosity peaked, and he drew himself nearer to hear the servant going on about a marvelous dinner and a search for... something?
This is Attia. Maybe she's after a medic.
He didn't really care. He was curious and demanded to know exactly who this woman was, in order to sate the persistent nagging in his skull.
"My lady," he interjected, weaving through and directly intercepting her retinue. He did not kneel, but inclined his head in a respectful motion as he counted the number of people in her retinue. Tilting his head, dark eyes met the young lady's own striking blue as he asked,
"What is it you're searching for? Perhaps I could help?"
The tinge of his accent, despite his years in Greece speaking the language, showed in the lowly spoken question. His lips curved in a beseeching smile as the looks of servants turned sour.
"Two minds are better than one, and the help seems too concerned for your safety to address the actual concerns weighing on your poor soul."
Carefully, he measured his words, all too willing to play the sympathetic game as he found Evi's striking visage all too suited to his tastes.
The servant muttered something that Evi did not quite catch - perhaps because her mind was already so full of troubles that she could not take in any more information, perhaps because she knew she didn’t actually want to hear what the servant had to say. People said she was on a fool’s errand, something that would not come to fruition. Evi, for her part, refused to believe that. This had to work. She didn’t know what she would do without her Marietta. They were as close as two people - two sisters - could get. She loved her sister and needed her safe and well again.
Evi began walking, changing direction to where she believed her family seat was, but paused when a new voice beseeched her to stop and pay attention to him. ‘My Lady,’ She turned to find the person who had spoken. The man was an attractive one, a few years older than her - maybe late twenties if she were to guess. The stubble that covered his cheeks and chin was full, years of growth rather than the patchy appearance of the attempted beards of men men her own age. He was tall, having a good few inches on her, and his intense gaze was one of genuine curiosity and even… was that concern she saw on his features, or was that just something she wanted to see?
She didn’t need to look at the servant to know she wasn’t impressed by her lady being stopped in the middle of the road by some stranger. The servant stepped forward and opened her mouth to speak but Evi raised a hand to silence her before she could begin to say whatever admonishment she had been about to utter.
“Concerns weighing on my poor soul?” Evi repeated, the corners of her lips curling upwards despite herself. “Is it that obvious?” She spoke before she realised what she was saying. Dressed in the garb of someone of noble birth, it was obvious who she was, even if she didn’t have an entourage following her around, and it was rare that a commoner would address her so casually, so her own question in return was just as offhand as his had been.
Biting her lower lip between the rows of her teeth, she considered the man for a moment. Evi was normally a quick judge of character, and she could admit to herself that she wasn’t sure she should trust the sympathetic lines of his face as a genuine concern for her. But she was desperate, and maybe this man, even if he did have an accent, knew Attia well. Better than her at least.
“I am looking for a healer,” she finally said after her moment of deliberation. It was worth a shot to at least ask him, especially as he had approached her, whatever he had to gain from the meeting. “A healer of… the mind, I suppose.” And then it all came rushing out unchecked from her lips: the trauma of the riots; the disastrous events of the day; the house guests who convalesced in her home; her sister’s comatose state; the slow recovery; the changes they saw in her now she was awake; her desperate search for a way to help her.
When she finally stopped speaking, she was too frantic, even frenzied, the worry was evidently colouring her tone. Evi didn’t even have it in her to blush at the outpouring of information battering this complete stranger. The servant next to her had gone stiff, and Evi knew if she turned to look at her, she would see an expression of complete disapproval, but it didn’t matter. She had kept all of her emotions bottled up and for some reason this man had broken the dam.
“So yes, if I know of a man who can help us, my poor soul would be fairing much better.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
The servant muttered something that Evi did not quite catch - perhaps because her mind was already so full of troubles that she could not take in any more information, perhaps because she knew she didn’t actually want to hear what the servant had to say. People said she was on a fool’s errand, something that would not come to fruition. Evi, for her part, refused to believe that. This had to work. She didn’t know what she would do without her Marietta. They were as close as two people - two sisters - could get. She loved her sister and needed her safe and well again.
Evi began walking, changing direction to where she believed her family seat was, but paused when a new voice beseeched her to stop and pay attention to him. ‘My Lady,’ She turned to find the person who had spoken. The man was an attractive one, a few years older than her - maybe late twenties if she were to guess. The stubble that covered his cheeks and chin was full, years of growth rather than the patchy appearance of the attempted beards of men men her own age. He was tall, having a good few inches on her, and his intense gaze was one of genuine curiosity and even… was that concern she saw on his features, or was that just something she wanted to see?
She didn’t need to look at the servant to know she wasn’t impressed by her lady being stopped in the middle of the road by some stranger. The servant stepped forward and opened her mouth to speak but Evi raised a hand to silence her before she could begin to say whatever admonishment she had been about to utter.
“Concerns weighing on my poor soul?” Evi repeated, the corners of her lips curling upwards despite herself. “Is it that obvious?” She spoke before she realised what she was saying. Dressed in the garb of someone of noble birth, it was obvious who she was, even if she didn’t have an entourage following her around, and it was rare that a commoner would address her so casually, so her own question in return was just as offhand as his had been.
Biting her lower lip between the rows of her teeth, she considered the man for a moment. Evi was normally a quick judge of character, and she could admit to herself that she wasn’t sure she should trust the sympathetic lines of his face as a genuine concern for her. But she was desperate, and maybe this man, even if he did have an accent, knew Attia well. Better than her at least.
“I am looking for a healer,” she finally said after her moment of deliberation. It was worth a shot to at least ask him, especially as he had approached her, whatever he had to gain from the meeting. “A healer of… the mind, I suppose.” And then it all came rushing out unchecked from her lips: the trauma of the riots; the disastrous events of the day; the house guests who convalesced in her home; her sister’s comatose state; the slow recovery; the changes they saw in her now she was awake; her desperate search for a way to help her.
When she finally stopped speaking, she was too frantic, even frenzied, the worry was evidently colouring her tone. Evi didn’t even have it in her to blush at the outpouring of information battering this complete stranger. The servant next to her had gone stiff, and Evi knew if she turned to look at her, she would see an expression of complete disapproval, but it didn’t matter. She had kept all of her emotions bottled up and for some reason this man had broken the dam.
“So yes, if I know of a man who can help us, my poor soul would be fairing much better.”
The servant muttered something that Evi did not quite catch - perhaps because her mind was already so full of troubles that she could not take in any more information, perhaps because she knew she didn’t actually want to hear what the servant had to say. People said she was on a fool’s errand, something that would not come to fruition. Evi, for her part, refused to believe that. This had to work. She didn’t know what she would do without her Marietta. They were as close as two people - two sisters - could get. She loved her sister and needed her safe and well again.
Evi began walking, changing direction to where she believed her family seat was, but paused when a new voice beseeched her to stop and pay attention to him. ‘My Lady,’ She turned to find the person who had spoken. The man was an attractive one, a few years older than her - maybe late twenties if she were to guess. The stubble that covered his cheeks and chin was full, years of growth rather than the patchy appearance of the attempted beards of men men her own age. He was tall, having a good few inches on her, and his intense gaze was one of genuine curiosity and even… was that concern she saw on his features, or was that just something she wanted to see?
She didn’t need to look at the servant to know she wasn’t impressed by her lady being stopped in the middle of the road by some stranger. The servant stepped forward and opened her mouth to speak but Evi raised a hand to silence her before she could begin to say whatever admonishment she had been about to utter.
“Concerns weighing on my poor soul?” Evi repeated, the corners of her lips curling upwards despite herself. “Is it that obvious?” She spoke before she realised what she was saying. Dressed in the garb of someone of noble birth, it was obvious who she was, even if she didn’t have an entourage following her around, and it was rare that a commoner would address her so casually, so her own question in return was just as offhand as his had been.
Biting her lower lip between the rows of her teeth, she considered the man for a moment. Evi was normally a quick judge of character, and she could admit to herself that she wasn’t sure she should trust the sympathetic lines of his face as a genuine concern for her. But she was desperate, and maybe this man, even if he did have an accent, knew Attia well. Better than her at least.
“I am looking for a healer,” she finally said after her moment of deliberation. It was worth a shot to at least ask him, especially as he had approached her, whatever he had to gain from the meeting. “A healer of… the mind, I suppose.” And then it all came rushing out unchecked from her lips: the trauma of the riots; the disastrous events of the day; the house guests who convalesced in her home; her sister’s comatose state; the slow recovery; the changes they saw in her now she was awake; her desperate search for a way to help her.
When she finally stopped speaking, she was too frantic, even frenzied, the worry was evidently colouring her tone. Evi didn’t even have it in her to blush at the outpouring of information battering this complete stranger. The servant next to her had gone stiff, and Evi knew if she turned to look at her, she would see an expression of complete disapproval, but it didn’t matter. She had kept all of her emotions bottled up and for some reason this man had broken the dam.
“So yes, if I know of a man who can help us, my poor soul would be fairing much better.”
Getting a closer look at her face, this girl looked nothing like the young voice she held. She was beautiful, certainly, her body and face belying what immaturity still existed. If he was a guessing man, he'd have lost the bet assuming she was in her mid-twenties, then lamented that loss by bending her over a table. But, the thought never crossed his mind. Aivon instead found his gaze meeting that cerulean tide in her eyes, just as she repeated his sentiment and he found the smile curving her lips.
There you go.
The smile was the first step, drawing his own curiosity into a graceful curve along his lips just as the servant stepped back like a whipped dog. Watching those with better judgment be quelled by those without was always an amusing thing. These high-headed types never thought that their lesser's judgment was better than their own. Instead, they were all-too-easily lulled, and while Aivon had other thoughts on his mind, his gaze drifted to her wrists, to her throat. Keeping his scrutiny with the periphery, his face remained locked with hers as he shrugged his shoulders,
"Call it intuition. Or, call it a flavour of destiny," he mused, wondering if the woman held such fanciful notions of Fate's spinning threads. As she mentioned her need for a healer, he allowed his gaze to curve naturally, the opportunity presented with that admission.
"You seem perfectly..."
She interrupted him, elaborating as to the nature of what she was looking for. A healer of the mind? Was this woman, an Antonis by the look of the insignia at the shoulder of her peplos. She was dressed in the colours of her house, the make of her clothes far too fine for anything but one of the treasures princesses of Athenia's premiere lineages.
Interesting...
As he considered her query, his lips parted, a soft 'ah' escaping him. He wanted her, whether it was to toy with the pretty royal or to pilfer what gold and valuables she held on her body... he wasn't quite certain. But, isolation was the key component of either scenario. Removing her retinue was the plan, and so... he looked to a lofty hill in the distance, a dirt path leading up a winding route to the very top. An old hut overlooked the rest of Attia, the surefire mark of an olden witch peddling their supposed magic in isolation from the rest of the world. He'd taken the journey only to find it was empty.
"Are you truly prepared for what it might take, my lady? There's rumours swirling around that hill," he began, pointing towards the place before he gestured to her retinue,
"That there's a witch up there, weaving her magicks away from covetous eyes. Attia is a province of healers, but most only address the concerns of the body. This one? It's possible that her reach passed through the curtain of the mind."
He hummed in thought before separating from the woman to lead her several steps in the right direction.
"However, your guards are armed and hostile. The witch has killed their ilk before. I think you'd need to abandon them and allow me to protect you. Your cause is heart wrenching, Lady...."
He knew who she was, but not her name. He extended his hand out to her,
"I'll do my utmost to help you."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Getting a closer look at her face, this girl looked nothing like the young voice she held. She was beautiful, certainly, her body and face belying what immaturity still existed. If he was a guessing man, he'd have lost the bet assuming she was in her mid-twenties, then lamented that loss by bending her over a table. But, the thought never crossed his mind. Aivon instead found his gaze meeting that cerulean tide in her eyes, just as she repeated his sentiment and he found the smile curving her lips.
There you go.
The smile was the first step, drawing his own curiosity into a graceful curve along his lips just as the servant stepped back like a whipped dog. Watching those with better judgment be quelled by those without was always an amusing thing. These high-headed types never thought that their lesser's judgment was better than their own. Instead, they were all-too-easily lulled, and while Aivon had other thoughts on his mind, his gaze drifted to her wrists, to her throat. Keeping his scrutiny with the periphery, his face remained locked with hers as he shrugged his shoulders,
"Call it intuition. Or, call it a flavour of destiny," he mused, wondering if the woman held such fanciful notions of Fate's spinning threads. As she mentioned her need for a healer, he allowed his gaze to curve naturally, the opportunity presented with that admission.
"You seem perfectly..."
She interrupted him, elaborating as to the nature of what she was looking for. A healer of the mind? Was this woman, an Antonis by the look of the insignia at the shoulder of her peplos. She was dressed in the colours of her house, the make of her clothes far too fine for anything but one of the treasures princesses of Athenia's premiere lineages.
Interesting...
As he considered her query, his lips parted, a soft 'ah' escaping him. He wanted her, whether it was to toy with the pretty royal or to pilfer what gold and valuables she held on her body... he wasn't quite certain. But, isolation was the key component of either scenario. Removing her retinue was the plan, and so... he looked to a lofty hill in the distance, a dirt path leading up a winding route to the very top. An old hut overlooked the rest of Attia, the surefire mark of an olden witch peddling their supposed magic in isolation from the rest of the world. He'd taken the journey only to find it was empty.
"Are you truly prepared for what it might take, my lady? There's rumours swirling around that hill," he began, pointing towards the place before he gestured to her retinue,
"That there's a witch up there, weaving her magicks away from covetous eyes. Attia is a province of healers, but most only address the concerns of the body. This one? It's possible that her reach passed through the curtain of the mind."
He hummed in thought before separating from the woman to lead her several steps in the right direction.
"However, your guards are armed and hostile. The witch has killed their ilk before. I think you'd need to abandon them and allow me to protect you. Your cause is heart wrenching, Lady...."
He knew who she was, but not her name. He extended his hand out to her,
"I'll do my utmost to help you."
Getting a closer look at her face, this girl looked nothing like the young voice she held. She was beautiful, certainly, her body and face belying what immaturity still existed. If he was a guessing man, he'd have lost the bet assuming she was in her mid-twenties, then lamented that loss by bending her over a table. But, the thought never crossed his mind. Aivon instead found his gaze meeting that cerulean tide in her eyes, just as she repeated his sentiment and he found the smile curving her lips.
There you go.
The smile was the first step, drawing his own curiosity into a graceful curve along his lips just as the servant stepped back like a whipped dog. Watching those with better judgment be quelled by those without was always an amusing thing. These high-headed types never thought that their lesser's judgment was better than their own. Instead, they were all-too-easily lulled, and while Aivon had other thoughts on his mind, his gaze drifted to her wrists, to her throat. Keeping his scrutiny with the periphery, his face remained locked with hers as he shrugged his shoulders,
"Call it intuition. Or, call it a flavour of destiny," he mused, wondering if the woman held such fanciful notions of Fate's spinning threads. As she mentioned her need for a healer, he allowed his gaze to curve naturally, the opportunity presented with that admission.
"You seem perfectly..."
She interrupted him, elaborating as to the nature of what she was looking for. A healer of the mind? Was this woman, an Antonis by the look of the insignia at the shoulder of her peplos. She was dressed in the colours of her house, the make of her clothes far too fine for anything but one of the treasures princesses of Athenia's premiere lineages.
Interesting...
As he considered her query, his lips parted, a soft 'ah' escaping him. He wanted her, whether it was to toy with the pretty royal or to pilfer what gold and valuables she held on her body... he wasn't quite certain. But, isolation was the key component of either scenario. Removing her retinue was the plan, and so... he looked to a lofty hill in the distance, a dirt path leading up a winding route to the very top. An old hut overlooked the rest of Attia, the surefire mark of an olden witch peddling their supposed magic in isolation from the rest of the world. He'd taken the journey only to find it was empty.
"Are you truly prepared for what it might take, my lady? There's rumours swirling around that hill," he began, pointing towards the place before he gestured to her retinue,
"That there's a witch up there, weaving her magicks away from covetous eyes. Attia is a province of healers, but most only address the concerns of the body. This one? It's possible that her reach passed through the curtain of the mind."
He hummed in thought before separating from the woman to lead her several steps in the right direction.
"However, your guards are armed and hostile. The witch has killed their ilk before. I think you'd need to abandon them and allow me to protect you. Your cause is heart wrenching, Lady...."
He knew who she was, but not her name. He extended his hand out to her,
