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Elena snagged a peach on her way out of the house, feeling a surge of excitement. It was nice to have something besides weaving and domestic duties planned. Her mother Sera was allowing her out of the confines of the house to enjoy the spice market for the day. How exciting! The plateia was sure to be bustling with strangers hailing from lands afar, each with exciting tales to share, not to mention the delicious food they had surely brought with them. Elena’s mouth watered at the thought of finding a merchant selling fried dough balls drizzled with honey. She had tried some at last years spice market from a trader who had hailed all the way from Egypt. The man had promised her a taste like nothing she had tried before, and Elena had been happy to find the man had not exaggerated the quality of his goods. She was determined to find the trader again or in the worst case, another from his region who could provide the treat.
She hurriedly twisted her hair up, holding it in place with a pair of bronze pins. Each had a bird on the end, both because avian designs were currently in fashion but also to represent her family’s house. Her cherished gold and pearl bracelet remained at home today, for there was a possibility of pickpocket’s being present. The possibility of crimes occurring in her proximity didn’t dampen Elena’s enthusiasm to attend the market in the slightest -there would be so many people around nothing truly dangerous could happen. Being born a lady of royal blood ensured that she rarely had a moment to herself, and in this instance, she would receive a pair of female servants as escorts. There would be city guards enough at the market that she needn’t take male soldiers as escorts.
The streets near the plateia were crowded with vendors hawking wares both local and exotic, both mysterious and mundane. A stall of fine cloth from one vendor caught her eye, and she ran her hands over the exquisite pattern, admiring the fine details. Before the stall owner could even begin his sales speech, she pressed a coin into his hand and with no further discussion one of her lady maids picked up the bolt of cloth before the trio continued down the street toward the plateia center itself, stopping here and there to add items to the pile. The crowds of people pressing them on could have been invisible, so little notice did she take of them. There were too many wonderous things to see, smell, and taste.
The pile of goods being carried by one of her servants was teetering dangerously high before they had even come to the end of the first side street, so Elena felt it necessary to pause a moment. “Amara, that pile looks uncomfortable to carry. Please see that my purchases make it home safely.” The words were gently said and received with a gracious dip before Amara turned back the way they had come and disappeared into the crowd. “Come Myrine, let us continue the search. I must some of those fried dough balls before the day is done.” With that the pair continued along, passing vendors, soldiers, and the occasional beggar on their way. Elena was so focused on her mission she paid little attention to the noises announcing her presence and even less to the stares thrown her way.
The plateia’s vast space opened before them with slightly wider aisles than those they had walked in the side streets to get here. Her remaining servant was flushed, and her neat braid was beginning to unravel in the heat, leading Elena to nod her to head in the direction of the fountain, indicating for Myrine to get a drink of water and to cool off. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I want to keep looking around and I don’t need you fainting away while I do it. I won’t leave sight of the plateia.” It only took a moment before Myrine moved away and was swallowed up in the crush, leaving Elena alone among the crowd.
A sweet scent floating on the breeze had her sniffing the air with excitement and pushing gently when patrons didn’t part for her to pass in the narrow aisle. The same man from the previous year grinned at her as she approached, his teeth gleaming white in contrast to the inky darkness of his skin. She was pleased that he remembered her, and they talked about his travels over the past year while she ate her much anticipated dessert. The honey and cinnamon burst in her mouth just the way she remembered, and he promised that if she returned the next year, he would tell her the recipe. With a playful smile, she quipped back that he’d better make an appearance the following year, or else she’d be searching all the middle east for him. A crowd was forming around the stall at this point and Elena waved a hasty goodbye, intending to wash her hands and meet Myrine at the fountain. She would have had a chance to rest by now and they could be on their way.
Elena had just passed a stall containing glass vessels of various sizes and colours when she heard it. A crackling sound, a crash, and then nothing but screaming. Someone knocked into her hard, sending Elena’s slender frame sprawling with a cry. Her soft hands were scratched as she frantically tried to get up just as the stall of vessels seemed to explode from within. The crush of bodies stepping on and around her blocked most of the shards thank the Gods, but it became immediately apparent that she needed to get out of the way, or she’d be trampled in the panic. With her no-longer-white peplos falling off one shoulder, she crawled as quickly as she could toward the now collapsed stall, not noticing until she was next to it that parts of it were catching on fire.
For a moment the horror paralyzed her, that this had been no accident, but there was no time. People were still screaming and there were more crashes as projectiles continues to rain down and set things alight. With a whimper of pain from her damaged hands, she stumbled forward in a panic, blood thundering in her ears. Run and run fast, it urged. One flaming ball sailed into a stall only a few down, exploding powders and incense, filling the air with scents that made Elena cough and blocking her vision. “Oh, please Hera protect me.” That done, she was pulling up her peplos and running as fast as she could toward a side alley where she hoped to be out of firing range. Of course, the person throwing the flaming balls was now behind her…
This thought made her turn her head to look behind, as if she had a hope of seeing the perpetrator. As it was, she slammed first face into a solid mass and fell for the second time in as many minutes, and it hurt much worse the second time around. The breath stolen from her lungs, Elena’s blue eyes fluttered open enough to see that it hadn’t been a wall, but a person. A rather large person. A rather covered in blood person. Rolling onto her knees, she cried out when a foot came down on her hand, preventing her from rising fully, all while being knocked about by the stampede of citizens fleeing the square. She looked up and made eye contact with the soldier, who was soaked in a mask of blood, unsure if she was going to be helped or punished.
Peach
Elena
Peach
Elena
Awards
First Impressions:Delicate; Kind smile, golden hair, soft hands, full lower lip
Address: Your Her Ladyship
Elena snagged a peach on her way out of the house, feeling a surge of excitement. It was nice to have something besides weaving and domestic duties planned. Her mother Sera was allowing her out of the confines of the house to enjoy the spice market for the day. How exciting! The plateia was sure to be bustling with strangers hailing from lands afar, each with exciting tales to share, not to mention the delicious food they had surely brought with them. Elena’s mouth watered at the thought of finding a merchant selling fried dough balls drizzled with honey. She had tried some at last years spice market from a trader who had hailed all the way from Egypt. The man had promised her a taste like nothing she had tried before, and Elena had been happy to find the man had not exaggerated the quality of his goods. She was determined to find the trader again or in the worst case, another from his region who could provide the treat.
She hurriedly twisted her hair up, holding it in place with a pair of bronze pins. Each had a bird on the end, both because avian designs were currently in fashion but also to represent her family’s house. Her cherished gold and pearl bracelet remained at home today, for there was a possibility of pickpocket’s being present. The possibility of crimes occurring in her proximity didn’t dampen Elena’s enthusiasm to attend the market in the slightest -there would be so many people around nothing truly dangerous could happen. Being born a lady of royal blood ensured that she rarely had a moment to herself, and in this instance, she would receive a pair of female servants as escorts. There would be city guards enough at the market that she needn’t take male soldiers as escorts.
The streets near the plateia were crowded with vendors hawking wares both local and exotic, both mysterious and mundane. A stall of fine cloth from one vendor caught her eye, and she ran her hands over the exquisite pattern, admiring the fine details. Before the stall owner could even begin his sales speech, she pressed a coin into his hand and with no further discussion one of her lady maids picked up the bolt of cloth before the trio continued down the street toward the plateia center itself, stopping here and there to add items to the pile. The crowds of people pressing them on could have been invisible, so little notice did she take of them. There were too many wonderous things to see, smell, and taste.
The pile of goods being carried by one of her servants was teetering dangerously high before they had even come to the end of the first side street, so Elena felt it necessary to pause a moment. “Amara, that pile looks uncomfortable to carry. Please see that my purchases make it home safely.” The words were gently said and received with a gracious dip before Amara turned back the way they had come and disappeared into the crowd. “Come Myrine, let us continue the search. I must some of those fried dough balls before the day is done.” With that the pair continued along, passing vendors, soldiers, and the occasional beggar on their way. Elena was so focused on her mission she paid little attention to the noises announcing her presence and even less to the stares thrown her way.
The plateia’s vast space opened before them with slightly wider aisles than those they had walked in the side streets to get here. Her remaining servant was flushed, and her neat braid was beginning to unravel in the heat, leading Elena to nod her to head in the direction of the fountain, indicating for Myrine to get a drink of water and to cool off. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I want to keep looking around and I don’t need you fainting away while I do it. I won’t leave sight of the plateia.” It only took a moment before Myrine moved away and was swallowed up in the crush, leaving Elena alone among the crowd.
A sweet scent floating on the breeze had her sniffing the air with excitement and pushing gently when patrons didn’t part for her to pass in the narrow aisle. The same man from the previous year grinned at her as she approached, his teeth gleaming white in contrast to the inky darkness of his skin. She was pleased that he remembered her, and they talked about his travels over the past year while she ate her much anticipated dessert. The honey and cinnamon burst in her mouth just the way she remembered, and he promised that if she returned the next year, he would tell her the recipe. With a playful smile, she quipped back that he’d better make an appearance the following year, or else she’d be searching all the middle east for him. A crowd was forming around the stall at this point and Elena waved a hasty goodbye, intending to wash her hands and meet Myrine at the fountain. She would have had a chance to rest by now and they could be on their way.
Elena had just passed a stall containing glass vessels of various sizes and colours when she heard it. A crackling sound, a crash, and then nothing but screaming. Someone knocked into her hard, sending Elena’s slender frame sprawling with a cry. Her soft hands were scratched as she frantically tried to get up just as the stall of vessels seemed to explode from within. The crush of bodies stepping on and around her blocked most of the shards thank the Gods, but it became immediately apparent that she needed to get out of the way, or she’d be trampled in the panic. With her no-longer-white peplos falling off one shoulder, she crawled as quickly as she could toward the now collapsed stall, not noticing until she was next to it that parts of it were catching on fire.
For a moment the horror paralyzed her, that this had been no accident, but there was no time. People were still screaming and there were more crashes as projectiles continues to rain down and set things alight. With a whimper of pain from her damaged hands, she stumbled forward in a panic, blood thundering in her ears. Run and run fast, it urged. One flaming ball sailed into a stall only a few down, exploding powders and incense, filling the air with scents that made Elena cough and blocking her vision. “Oh, please Hera protect me.” That done, she was pulling up her peplos and running as fast as she could toward a side alley where she hoped to be out of firing range. Of course, the person throwing the flaming balls was now behind her…
This thought made her turn her head to look behind, as if she had a hope of seeing the perpetrator. As it was, she slammed first face into a solid mass and fell for the second time in as many minutes, and it hurt much worse the second time around. The breath stolen from her lungs, Elena’s blue eyes fluttered open enough to see that it hadn’t been a wall, but a person. A rather large person. A rather covered in blood person. Rolling onto her knees, she cried out when a foot came down on her hand, preventing her from rising fully, all while being knocked about by the stampede of citizens fleeing the square. She looked up and made eye contact with the soldier, who was soaked in a mask of blood, unsure if she was going to be helped or punished.
Elena snagged a peach on her way out of the house, feeling a surge of excitement. It was nice to have something besides weaving and domestic duties planned. Her mother Sera was allowing her out of the confines of the house to enjoy the spice market for the day. How exciting! The plateia was sure to be bustling with strangers hailing from lands afar, each with exciting tales to share, not to mention the delicious food they had surely brought with them. Elena’s mouth watered at the thought of finding a merchant selling fried dough balls drizzled with honey. She had tried some at last years spice market from a trader who had hailed all the way from Egypt. The man had promised her a taste like nothing she had tried before, and Elena had been happy to find the man had not exaggerated the quality of his goods. She was determined to find the trader again or in the worst case, another from his region who could provide the treat.
She hurriedly twisted her hair up, holding it in place with a pair of bronze pins. Each had a bird on the end, both because avian designs were currently in fashion but also to represent her family’s house. Her cherished gold and pearl bracelet remained at home today, for there was a possibility of pickpocket’s being present. The possibility of crimes occurring in her proximity didn’t dampen Elena’s enthusiasm to attend the market in the slightest -there would be so many people around nothing truly dangerous could happen. Being born a lady of royal blood ensured that she rarely had a moment to herself, and in this instance, she would receive a pair of female servants as escorts. There would be city guards enough at the market that she needn’t take male soldiers as escorts.
The streets near the plateia were crowded with vendors hawking wares both local and exotic, both mysterious and mundane. A stall of fine cloth from one vendor caught her eye, and she ran her hands over the exquisite pattern, admiring the fine details. Before the stall owner could even begin his sales speech, she pressed a coin into his hand and with no further discussion one of her lady maids picked up the bolt of cloth before the trio continued down the street toward the plateia center itself, stopping here and there to add items to the pile. The crowds of people pressing them on could have been invisible, so little notice did she take of them. There were too many wonderous things to see, smell, and taste.
The pile of goods being carried by one of her servants was teetering dangerously high before they had even come to the end of the first side street, so Elena felt it necessary to pause a moment. “Amara, that pile looks uncomfortable to carry. Please see that my purchases make it home safely.” The words were gently said and received with a gracious dip before Amara turned back the way they had come and disappeared into the crowd. “Come Myrine, let us continue the search. I must some of those fried dough balls before the day is done.” With that the pair continued along, passing vendors, soldiers, and the occasional beggar on their way. Elena was so focused on her mission she paid little attention to the noises announcing her presence and even less to the stares thrown her way.
The plateia’s vast space opened before them with slightly wider aisles than those they had walked in the side streets to get here. Her remaining servant was flushed, and her neat braid was beginning to unravel in the heat, leading Elena to nod her to head in the direction of the fountain, indicating for Myrine to get a drink of water and to cool off. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I want to keep looking around and I don’t need you fainting away while I do it. I won’t leave sight of the plateia.” It only took a moment before Myrine moved away and was swallowed up in the crush, leaving Elena alone among the crowd.
A sweet scent floating on the breeze had her sniffing the air with excitement and pushing gently when patrons didn’t part for her to pass in the narrow aisle. The same man from the previous year grinned at her as she approached, his teeth gleaming white in contrast to the inky darkness of his skin. She was pleased that he remembered her, and they talked about his travels over the past year while she ate her much anticipated dessert. The honey and cinnamon burst in her mouth just the way she remembered, and he promised that if she returned the next year, he would tell her the recipe. With a playful smile, she quipped back that he’d better make an appearance the following year, or else she’d be searching all the middle east for him. A crowd was forming around the stall at this point and Elena waved a hasty goodbye, intending to wash her hands and meet Myrine at the fountain. She would have had a chance to rest by now and they could be on their way.
Elena had just passed a stall containing glass vessels of various sizes and colours when she heard it. A crackling sound, a crash, and then nothing but screaming. Someone knocked into her hard, sending Elena’s slender frame sprawling with a cry. Her soft hands were scratched as she frantically tried to get up just as the stall of vessels seemed to explode from within. The crush of bodies stepping on and around her blocked most of the shards thank the Gods, but it became immediately apparent that she needed to get out of the way, or she’d be trampled in the panic. With her no-longer-white peplos falling off one shoulder, she crawled as quickly as she could toward the now collapsed stall, not noticing until she was next to it that parts of it were catching on fire.
For a moment the horror paralyzed her, that this had been no accident, but there was no time. People were still screaming and there were more crashes as projectiles continues to rain down and set things alight. With a whimper of pain from her damaged hands, she stumbled forward in a panic, blood thundering in her ears. Run and run fast, it urged. One flaming ball sailed into a stall only a few down, exploding powders and incense, filling the air with scents that made Elena cough and blocking her vision. “Oh, please Hera protect me.” That done, she was pulling up her peplos and running as fast as she could toward a side alley where she hoped to be out of firing range. Of course, the person throwing the flaming balls was now behind her…
This thought made her turn her head to look behind, as if she had a hope of seeing the perpetrator. As it was, she slammed first face into a solid mass and fell for the second time in as many minutes, and it hurt much worse the second time around. The breath stolen from her lungs, Elena’s blue eyes fluttered open enough to see that it hadn’t been a wall, but a person. A rather large person. A rather covered in blood person. Rolling onto her knees, she cried out when a foot came down on her hand, preventing her from rising fully, all while being knocked about by the stampede of citizens fleeing the square. She looked up and made eye contact with the soldier, who was soaked in a mask of blood, unsure if she was going to be helped or punished.
With the noise, the rush, the pounding of shoulders into bodies and feet over toes, Leonidas had had no warning before the force slammed into him from behind. The strike wasn't heavy - it came from something light - but it assaulted him with a speed that multiplied the impact tenfold. Had he a hand free, not two filled with weapons, Leo might have been able to break his fall and protect his face. Instead, he smashed into the ground heavy and hard. The blush of heat and rush of wet warned him of the blood now running from his nose. He felt it over his lips and chin. But he ne'er let it stop him.
Almost instantly, Leonidas was looking up, trying to get his bearings and facilitate getting back to his feet. As stalls fell between the stampede of fair-goers and flames continued to explode in different parts of town, Leo caught see little and hear everything. The din drowned out specifics, turning into a crash of noise in his ears. Like the constant breaking of waves.
Only when a sharp intake of breath, a feminine squeal of pain, broke next to him did Leo realize the force to slam into his back had been a person. His head spinning around, he locked eyes with a blonde young woman, as strewn across the ground as he. He watched her snatch free her fingers from beneath the tread of a frightened citizen and saw the fear in her eyes spark deeper.
Glancing around for his moment, Leo abandoned the sword that had been sent spinning off somewhere and adjusted the staff of his halberd. In a momentary break of people, he rose to all fours, swung the weapon out in a cleaving arch of warning, and placed an outstretched leg across the girl's prone body; she lying flat upon her belly in the dust and he a half-kneeling animal above. Turning the halberd so that the blade faced in and would not slice at passing folk, Leonidas used the length of it to break the waves of people in two. Like a heavy rock amid a current. The crowds passed down either side of the two of them, feet no longer a threat and only their flailing arms a danger to Leonidas's sides and shoulders.
When he could stand a little taller, freeing his other palm, Leo reached towards the young woman.
"My Lady..." It was clear from her clothing and the rich silk of her peplos that she was of higher rank than he. He had no idea just how high but it was always safer to address a woman more regally than was required. "Take my hand. Get up."
Leonidas knew himself to be in a difficult position. His duty was to the people of Athenia. He was no personal guard, no specific body slave. He was not bound to the duty of a single individual's safety. Instead, he was responsible for all. A protector of many. He could not focus on a single fallen female at the expense of others.
And yet, when crowds were so wild and dangers so rife, what ability did he have to calm so large a crowd? His best chance was to save as many individuals as he might be able. If he were lucky, he might be able to claim that as a small percentage of the many he had vowed to serve.
JD
Leonidas
JD
Leonidas
Awards
First Impressions:Slender; Prominent cheekbones, bright blue eyes, tendon-heavy hands.
Address: Your
With the noise, the rush, the pounding of shoulders into bodies and feet over toes, Leonidas had had no warning before the force slammed into him from behind. The strike wasn't heavy - it came from something light - but it assaulted him with a speed that multiplied the impact tenfold. Had he a hand free, not two filled with weapons, Leo might have been able to break his fall and protect his face. Instead, he smashed into the ground heavy and hard. The blush of heat and rush of wet warned him of the blood now running from his nose. He felt it over his lips and chin. But he ne'er let it stop him.
Almost instantly, Leonidas was looking up, trying to get his bearings and facilitate getting back to his feet. As stalls fell between the stampede of fair-goers and flames continued to explode in different parts of town, Leo caught see little and hear everything. The din drowned out specifics, turning into a crash of noise in his ears. Like the constant breaking of waves.
Only when a sharp intake of breath, a feminine squeal of pain, broke next to him did Leo realize the force to slam into his back had been a person. His head spinning around, he locked eyes with a blonde young woman, as strewn across the ground as he. He watched her snatch free her fingers from beneath the tread of a frightened citizen and saw the fear in her eyes spark deeper.
Glancing around for his moment, Leo abandoned the sword that had been sent spinning off somewhere and adjusted the staff of his halberd. In a momentary break of people, he rose to all fours, swung the weapon out in a cleaving arch of warning, and placed an outstretched leg across the girl's prone body; she lying flat upon her belly in the dust and he a half-kneeling animal above. Turning the halberd so that the blade faced in and would not slice at passing folk, Leonidas used the length of it to break the waves of people in two. Like a heavy rock amid a current. The crowds passed down either side of the two of them, feet no longer a threat and only their flailing arms a danger to Leonidas's sides and shoulders.
When he could stand a little taller, freeing his other palm, Leo reached towards the young woman.
"My Lady..." It was clear from her clothing and the rich silk of her peplos that she was of higher rank than he. He had no idea just how high but it was always safer to address a woman more regally than was required. "Take my hand. Get up."
Leonidas knew himself to be in a difficult position. His duty was to the people of Athenia. He was no personal guard, no specific body slave. He was not bound to the duty of a single individual's safety. Instead, he was responsible for all. A protector of many. He could not focus on a single fallen female at the expense of others.
And yet, when crowds were so wild and dangers so rife, what ability did he have to calm so large a crowd? His best chance was to save as many individuals as he might be able. If he were lucky, he might be able to claim that as a small percentage of the many he had vowed to serve.
With the noise, the rush, the pounding of shoulders into bodies and feet over toes, Leonidas had had no warning before the force slammed into him from behind. The strike wasn't heavy - it came from something light - but it assaulted him with a speed that multiplied the impact tenfold. Had he a hand free, not two filled with weapons, Leo might have been able to break his fall and protect his face. Instead, he smashed into the ground heavy and hard. The blush of heat and rush of wet warned him of the blood now running from his nose. He felt it over his lips and chin. But he ne'er let it stop him.
Almost instantly, Leonidas was looking up, trying to get his bearings and facilitate getting back to his feet. As stalls fell between the stampede of fair-goers and flames continued to explode in different parts of town, Leo caught see little and hear everything. The din drowned out specifics, turning into a crash of noise in his ears. Like the constant breaking of waves.
Only when a sharp intake of breath, a feminine squeal of pain, broke next to him did Leo realize the force to slam into his back had been a person. His head spinning around, he locked eyes with a blonde young woman, as strewn across the ground as he. He watched her snatch free her fingers from beneath the tread of a frightened citizen and saw the fear in her eyes spark deeper.
Glancing around for his moment, Leo abandoned the sword that had been sent spinning off somewhere and adjusted the staff of his halberd. In a momentary break of people, he rose to all fours, swung the weapon out in a cleaving arch of warning, and placed an outstretched leg across the girl's prone body; she lying flat upon her belly in the dust and he a half-kneeling animal above. Turning the halberd so that the blade faced in and would not slice at passing folk, Leonidas used the length of it to break the waves of people in two. Like a heavy rock amid a current. The crowds passed down either side of the two of them, feet no longer a threat and only their flailing arms a danger to Leonidas's sides and shoulders.
When he could stand a little taller, freeing his other palm, Leo reached towards the young woman.
"My Lady..." It was clear from her clothing and the rich silk of her peplos that she was of higher rank than he. He had no idea just how high but it was always safer to address a woman more regally than was required. "Take my hand. Get up."
Leonidas knew himself to be in a difficult position. His duty was to the people of Athenia. He was no personal guard, no specific body slave. He was not bound to the duty of a single individual's safety. Instead, he was responsible for all. A protector of many. He could not focus on a single fallen female at the expense of others.
And yet, when crowds were so wild and dangers so rife, what ability did he have to calm so large a crowd? His best chance was to save as many individuals as he might be able. If he were lucky, he might be able to claim that as a small percentage of the many he had vowed to serve.
The soldier was already on his knees, although she knew not how he had managed it. Perhaps his armour had shielded him from the worst of her assault, although judging from the condition of his face she feared that wasn’t the case. Feet continued to trample by her face, legs knocking into her occasionally, and the fear that had been knocked out of her in the collision returned along with the terrible knowledge that if she couldn’t get up, this crowd was going to trample her to death.
The stranger’s eyes met hers through the haze that now filled the entire plateia, the combination of smoke and perfumes nearly blinding in its strength. Elena felt her eyes beginning to water and saw the stranger was having similar problems, although to be fair, it looked as though a lot of his issues were due to his nose. It didn’t stop him from searching for something in the wreckage of wood that used to be a merchant’s stall, but he also appeared to quickly give up.
The stampede of feet moving past them was a reminder of their dangerous position out in the open. Elena was no soldier but even she knew *that*. When the soldier offered his hand she took it without hesitation, holding her injured hand stiffly against her side. The smell of leather, smoke, and sweaty human filled Elena’s nose. Up close the man appeared even bigger than before, but the way he didn’t hesitate to hover over her protectively instantly gave her the immediate sense that he could be trusted. People were parting to move around him in a way they hadn’t for her, and on top of that he had a weapon. As he swung it through the air with expert precision, Elena felt oddly safe. That decided it.
She took the proffered hand, noting the warm strength of it down to the hard bumps that lined his palm and fingers before gripping it tightly. It was unseemly to cling to the hand of a strange man, but this was a strange moment. “Yes, of course. I need to get up.” The words were half directed to the stranger and half to herself. For a moment it was as if her voice came from outside her body, so strange was the situation. Under normal circumstances the pair would never have been in such close proximity, let alone touched hands in this manner. It was an strangely pleasant experience in the middle of the chaos, though Elena couldn’t have explained why.
As she examined him, it seemed that he was examining her as well. *By the gods, he’s a tall one,* she thought as he pulled her upright, anchoring her with his arm, sheltering her with his body despite being knocked about by the desperately fleeing citizens. She stood, hunching her shoulders to become smaller so she might be more protected by his well muscled breadth. She took in his blood soaked stubble, his dirt streaked body, and his luminous blue eyes all within a split second.
The cacophony around them made it difficult to hear if the soldier was speaking to her, and she leaned closer to his ear. “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t see and the fire-“ Elena wasn’t a woman prone to hysterics, but right now she was close to making an exception. Everything hurt, and she had hurt him in her panic, and she had no idea what had happened to Myrine. Myrine! “My lady’s maid was by the fountain, can you see it?” It was doubtful given the poor visibility, but with his height perhaps he might see something. The thought of something happening to the servant made emotions well up, but just as quickly as they surfaced Elena pushed them down again. Whatever happened was the will of the Gods, and with luck they were feeling merciful today. There was nothing to be done at the moment; Elena would just have to hope the woman had made it out safely.
The air was becoming thicker with smoke as more stalls began to catch alight. Her lungs were beginning to burn, and she coughed to clear her airway. “They’re burning the whole market down,” she exclaimed, stunned by her own proclamation. “We have to get out of here or the crowd will trample us!” The words had barely left her lips before a particularly large citizen bumped into the side of them, leading Elena to grip both of the strangers forearms. “Please don’t let go of me, sir. If I fall again I’m not sure I’ll be able to get up again.” It was hard to know if he heard her words over the din surrounding them. Her eyes went wide with fear once more as she struggled to balance on her wobbly legs. And still more fire balls flew around them, adding to the chaos. There was screaming coming from every direction, and Elena brushed her filthy, messy hair out of her face while she tried to spot an avenue of escape through the smoke. It was imperative that they move *now*, but which way was safest?
Peach
Elena
Peach
Elena
Awards
First Impressions:Delicate; Kind smile, golden hair, soft hands, full lower lip
Address: Your Her Ladyship
The soldier was already on his knees, although she knew not how he had managed it. Perhaps his armour had shielded him from the worst of her assault, although judging from the condition of his face she feared that wasn’t the case. Feet continued to trample by her face, legs knocking into her occasionally, and the fear that had been knocked out of her in the collision returned along with the terrible knowledge that if she couldn’t get up, this crowd was going to trample her to death.
The stranger’s eyes met hers through the haze that now filled the entire plateia, the combination of smoke and perfumes nearly blinding in its strength. Elena felt her eyes beginning to water and saw the stranger was having similar problems, although to be fair, it looked as though a lot of his issues were due to his nose. It didn’t stop him from searching for something in the wreckage of wood that used to be a merchant’s stall, but he also appeared to quickly give up.
The stampede of feet moving past them was a reminder of their dangerous position out in the open. Elena was no soldier but even she knew *that*. When the soldier offered his hand she took it without hesitation, holding her injured hand stiffly against her side. The smell of leather, smoke, and sweaty human filled Elena’s nose. Up close the man appeared even bigger than before, but the way he didn’t hesitate to hover over her protectively instantly gave her the immediate sense that he could be trusted. People were parting to move around him in a way they hadn’t for her, and on top of that he had a weapon. As he swung it through the air with expert precision, Elena felt oddly safe. That decided it.
She took the proffered hand, noting the warm strength of it down to the hard bumps that lined his palm and fingers before gripping it tightly. It was unseemly to cling to the hand of a strange man, but this was a strange moment. “Yes, of course. I need to get up.” The words were half directed to the stranger and half to herself. For a moment it was as if her voice came from outside her body, so strange was the situation. Under normal circumstances the pair would never have been in such close proximity, let alone touched hands in this manner. It was an strangely pleasant experience in the middle of the chaos, though Elena couldn’t have explained why.
As she examined him, it seemed that he was examining her as well. *By the gods, he’s a tall one,* she thought as he pulled her upright, anchoring her with his arm, sheltering her with his body despite being knocked about by the desperately fleeing citizens. She stood, hunching her shoulders to become smaller so she might be more protected by his well muscled breadth. She took in his blood soaked stubble, his dirt streaked body, and his luminous blue eyes all within a split second.
The cacophony around them made it difficult to hear if the soldier was speaking to her, and she leaned closer to his ear. “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t see and the fire-“ Elena wasn’t a woman prone to hysterics, but right now she was close to making an exception. Everything hurt, and she had hurt him in her panic, and she had no idea what had happened to Myrine. Myrine! “My lady’s maid was by the fountain, can you see it?” It was doubtful given the poor visibility, but with his height perhaps he might see something. The thought of something happening to the servant made emotions well up, but just as quickly as they surfaced Elena pushed them down again. Whatever happened was the will of the Gods, and with luck they were feeling merciful today. There was nothing to be done at the moment; Elena would just have to hope the woman had made it out safely.
The air was becoming thicker with smoke as more stalls began to catch alight. Her lungs were beginning to burn, and she coughed to clear her airway. “They’re burning the whole market down,” she exclaimed, stunned by her own proclamation. “We have to get out of here or the crowd will trample us!” The words had barely left her lips before a particularly large citizen bumped into the side of them, leading Elena to grip both of the strangers forearms. “Please don’t let go of me, sir. If I fall again I’m not sure I’ll be able to get up again.” It was hard to know if he heard her words over the din surrounding them. Her eyes went wide with fear once more as she struggled to balance on her wobbly legs. And still more fire balls flew around them, adding to the chaos. There was screaming coming from every direction, and Elena brushed her filthy, messy hair out of her face while she tried to spot an avenue of escape through the smoke. It was imperative that they move *now*, but which way was safest?
The soldier was already on his knees, although she knew not how he had managed it. Perhaps his armour had shielded him from the worst of her assault, although judging from the condition of his face she feared that wasn’t the case. Feet continued to trample by her face, legs knocking into her occasionally, and the fear that had been knocked out of her in the collision returned along with the terrible knowledge that if she couldn’t get up, this crowd was going to trample her to death.
The stranger’s eyes met hers through the haze that now filled the entire plateia, the combination of smoke and perfumes nearly blinding in its strength. Elena felt her eyes beginning to water and saw the stranger was having similar problems, although to be fair, it looked as though a lot of his issues were due to his nose. It didn’t stop him from searching for something in the wreckage of wood that used to be a merchant’s stall, but he also appeared to quickly give up.
The stampede of feet moving past them was a reminder of their dangerous position out in the open. Elena was no soldier but even she knew *that*. When the soldier offered his hand she took it without hesitation, holding her injured hand stiffly against her side. The smell of leather, smoke, and sweaty human filled Elena’s nose. Up close the man appeared even bigger than before, but the way he didn’t hesitate to hover over her protectively instantly gave her the immediate sense that he could be trusted. People were parting to move around him in a way they hadn’t for her, and on top of that he had a weapon. As he swung it through the air with expert precision, Elena felt oddly safe. That decided it.
She took the proffered hand, noting the warm strength of it down to the hard bumps that lined his palm and fingers before gripping it tightly. It was unseemly to cling to the hand of a strange man, but this was a strange moment. “Yes, of course. I need to get up.” The words were half directed to the stranger and half to herself. For a moment it was as if her voice came from outside her body, so strange was the situation. Under normal circumstances the pair would never have been in such close proximity, let alone touched hands in this manner. It was an strangely pleasant experience in the middle of the chaos, though Elena couldn’t have explained why.
As she examined him, it seemed that he was examining her as well. *By the gods, he’s a tall one,* she thought as he pulled her upright, anchoring her with his arm, sheltering her with his body despite being knocked about by the desperately fleeing citizens. She stood, hunching her shoulders to become smaller so she might be more protected by his well muscled breadth. She took in his blood soaked stubble, his dirt streaked body, and his luminous blue eyes all within a split second.
The cacophony around them made it difficult to hear if the soldier was speaking to her, and she leaned closer to his ear. “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t see and the fire-“ Elena wasn’t a woman prone to hysterics, but right now she was close to making an exception. Everything hurt, and she had hurt him in her panic, and she had no idea what had happened to Myrine. Myrine! “My lady’s maid was by the fountain, can you see it?” It was doubtful given the poor visibility, but with his height perhaps he might see something. The thought of something happening to the servant made emotions well up, but just as quickly as they surfaced Elena pushed them down again. Whatever happened was the will of the Gods, and with luck they were feeling merciful today. There was nothing to be done at the moment; Elena would just have to hope the woman had made it out safely.
The air was becoming thicker with smoke as more stalls began to catch alight. Her lungs were beginning to burn, and she coughed to clear her airway. “They’re burning the whole market down,” she exclaimed, stunned by her own proclamation. “We have to get out of here or the crowd will trample us!” The words had barely left her lips before a particularly large citizen bumped into the side of them, leading Elena to grip both of the strangers forearms. “Please don’t let go of me, sir. If I fall again I’m not sure I’ll be able to get up again.” It was hard to know if he heard her words over the din surrounding them. Her eyes went wide with fear once more as she struggled to balance on her wobbly legs. And still more fire balls flew around them, adding to the chaos. There was screaming coming from every direction, and Elena brushed her filthy, messy hair out of her face while she tried to spot an avenue of escape through the smoke. It was imperative that they move *now*, but which way was safest?
Leonidas thought little of how inappropriate their situation was. The way he offered his hand, the manner in which she took it... her being held against his person to be shielded from the stampede. Their knees brushed one another, her hands were on his forearms. His own free hand had moved to brace against her side, keeping her close and allowing him to shift her to and fro to avoid particular citizens rushing by. None of it registered as inappropriate in his mind. Perhaps because he had not been as highly trained in etiquette as the ladies of the court. Instead, the focus of his education had been the ways of protection and security. The manner of keeping others safe. Right now, the young blonde's physical condition was at the forefront of Leo's mind, drowning out all other whispers of sense and reason.
As she drew in close, calling out against the noise of the crowd, Leonidas felt her words as much as he heard them. Her breath beat against the skin of his shoulder and neck and translated into syllables and words. Her apology, Leo ignored, her pleading for her ladies maid, had him looking west, glancing out across the crush of people. His nose brushed the top of her hair, the strands sticking to his still running blood. Even amidst the tang of metal and acrid copper, Leo thought he smelt lavender... His eyes found the fountain easily enough but with the rushing of people, it was impossible to pick out any single body. He could see women, men, even the hastened bent figures of those who were pulling along small children, but he saw no one and everyone that might be a ladies maid.
Not wishing to make promises of finding the woman, nor of denying the girl any hope that they ever would, Leonidas said nothing. He only tightened his grip on the silk at the woman's side, fearing she might rush off to investigate herself. Right now, his duty was to see her safely from the plateia and stationed somewhere without danger. Then he could turn his attention to others. He'd not see his sole charge rush off to be trampled. Even if the desire was borne out of human kindness.
As the girl rambled in fear, narrating the fires and the people and their need for escape, Leo was scanning the crowd. It was safest to run with the current, to not upset the panic of the crowd by forcing themselves upstream. But, from his advantage of height, Leo could read where the current of feet changed. No one was organised. Everyone was rushing. Different streams of people collided with crushing and dangerous force at different corners, people smashed underfoot and lost to Hades through fear, not fire. Mapping the different eddies and flows, Leonidas prepared a route in his head. A route that followed rhythm and current but would see them clear of mortal crushes.
Pushing the girl with the hand on her side, so that she faced the right way, Leonidas kept her ahead of him. At her back, he would be the first thing anyone rushed into. He would be the one to take the force of the collision. Keeping his halberd at one side of them and his free hand upon the girl's shoulder as a guide, Leo had the two of them near-protected on most sides.
"Go!" he called to her over the din. He leaned low so that she might hear him, more of her hair sticking momentarily to his face. "Go! I'll tell you where to lead."
The young woman tried. Leo could tell that she did. She moved with haste that showed intent but with a delicacy born of inexperience. Her fear kept her from taking a step when there was the worry of collision, her uncertainty leading to dithering and scared bouncing from foot to foot. Even with the current of people, they had made it only a few metres before Leonidas stepped in. He had not the time.
Forcing her around, so that she faced him once more, Leo made a face of contrition half-lost behind the blood.
"Forgive me, my Lady," he said before snatching up her arms and pulling them around his neck. Her body came up flush to his, his free arm snaked around her waist and lifted her from the floor altogether.
"Hold on," he called by her ear. And then he ran.
With the flow of people, not to mention his height and exposed blade, Leonidas carved a path through the crowd far more effectively than the wisp of a girl he held. He hurried along the streets, darting to the left or right into an open aisle between broken stalls whenever he knew there to be danger ahead. Only for moments at a time was he forced to move against the crushing flow before he joined another vein of the crowd. Each time was a necessary evil to avoid a deadly collision course that Leo had already marked on the map in his head.
It would take them some minutes but Leonidas knew they were on the right course. A course that would see them beyond the market, out of the smoke and into the Outer Circle of the Athenian capital...
JD
Leonidas
JD
Leonidas
Awards
First Impressions:Slender; Prominent cheekbones, bright blue eyes, tendon-heavy hands.
Address: Your
Leonidas thought little of how inappropriate their situation was. The way he offered his hand, the manner in which she took it... her being held against his person to be shielded from the stampede. Their knees brushed one another, her hands were on his forearms. His own free hand had moved to brace against her side, keeping her close and allowing him to shift her to and fro to avoid particular citizens rushing by. None of it registered as inappropriate in his mind. Perhaps because he had not been as highly trained in etiquette as the ladies of the court. Instead, the focus of his education had been the ways of protection and security. The manner of keeping others safe. Right now, the young blonde's physical condition was at the forefront of Leo's mind, drowning out all other whispers of sense and reason.
As she drew in close, calling out against the noise of the crowd, Leonidas felt her words as much as he heard them. Her breath beat against the skin of his shoulder and neck and translated into syllables and words. Her apology, Leo ignored, her pleading for her ladies maid, had him looking west, glancing out across the crush of people. His nose brushed the top of her hair, the strands sticking to his still running blood. Even amidst the tang of metal and acrid copper, Leo thought he smelt lavender... His eyes found the fountain easily enough but with the rushing of people, it was impossible to pick out any single body. He could see women, men, even the hastened bent figures of those who were pulling along small children, but he saw no one and everyone that might be a ladies maid.
Not wishing to make promises of finding the woman, nor of denying the girl any hope that they ever would, Leonidas said nothing. He only tightened his grip on the silk at the woman's side, fearing she might rush off to investigate herself. Right now, his duty was to see her safely from the plateia and stationed somewhere without danger. Then he could turn his attention to others. He'd not see his sole charge rush off to be trampled. Even if the desire was borne out of human kindness.
As the girl rambled in fear, narrating the fires and the people and their need for escape, Leo was scanning the crowd. It was safest to run with the current, to not upset the panic of the crowd by forcing themselves upstream. But, from his advantage of height, Leo could read where the current of feet changed. No one was organised. Everyone was rushing. Different streams of people collided with crushing and dangerous force at different corners, people smashed underfoot and lost to Hades through fear, not fire. Mapping the different eddies and flows, Leonidas prepared a route in his head. A route that followed rhythm and current but would see them clear of mortal crushes.
Pushing the girl with the hand on her side, so that she faced the right way, Leonidas kept her ahead of him. At her back, he would be the first thing anyone rushed into. He would be the one to take the force of the collision. Keeping his halberd at one side of them and his free hand upon the girl's shoulder as a guide, Leo had the two of them near-protected on most sides.
"Go!" he called to her over the din. He leaned low so that she might hear him, more of her hair sticking momentarily to his face. "Go! I'll tell you where to lead."
The young woman tried. Leo could tell that she did. She moved with haste that showed intent but with a delicacy born of inexperience. Her fear kept her from taking a step when there was the worry of collision, her uncertainty leading to dithering and scared bouncing from foot to foot. Even with the current of people, they had made it only a few metres before Leonidas stepped in. He had not the time.
Forcing her around, so that she faced him once more, Leo made a face of contrition half-lost behind the blood.
"Forgive me, my Lady," he said before snatching up her arms and pulling them around his neck. Her body came up flush to his, his free arm snaked around her waist and lifted her from the floor altogether.
"Hold on," he called by her ear. And then he ran.
With the flow of people, not to mention his height and exposed blade, Leonidas carved a path through the crowd far more effectively than the wisp of a girl he held. He hurried along the streets, darting to the left or right into an open aisle between broken stalls whenever he knew there to be danger ahead. Only for moments at a time was he forced to move against the crushing flow before he joined another vein of the crowd. Each time was a necessary evil to avoid a deadly collision course that Leo had already marked on the map in his head.
It would take them some minutes but Leonidas knew they were on the right course. A course that would see them beyond the market, out of the smoke and into the Outer Circle of the Athenian capital...
Leonidas thought little of how inappropriate their situation was. The way he offered his hand, the manner in which she took it... her being held against his person to be shielded from the stampede. Their knees brushed one another, her hands were on his forearms. His own free hand had moved to brace against her side, keeping her close and allowing him to shift her to and fro to avoid particular citizens rushing by. None of it registered as inappropriate in his mind. Perhaps because he had not been as highly trained in etiquette as the ladies of the court. Instead, the focus of his education had been the ways of protection and security. The manner of keeping others safe. Right now, the young blonde's physical condition was at the forefront of Leo's mind, drowning out all other whispers of sense and reason.
As she drew in close, calling out against the noise of the crowd, Leonidas felt her words as much as he heard them. Her breath beat against the skin of his shoulder and neck and translated into syllables and words. Her apology, Leo ignored, her pleading for her ladies maid, had him looking west, glancing out across the crush of people. His nose brushed the top of her hair, the strands sticking to his still running blood. Even amidst the tang of metal and acrid copper, Leo thought he smelt lavender... His eyes found the fountain easily enough but with the rushing of people, it was impossible to pick out any single body. He could see women, men, even the hastened bent figures of those who were pulling along small children, but he saw no one and everyone that might be a ladies maid.
Not wishing to make promises of finding the woman, nor of denying the girl any hope that they ever would, Leonidas said nothing. He only tightened his grip on the silk at the woman's side, fearing she might rush off to investigate herself. Right now, his duty was to see her safely from the plateia and stationed somewhere without danger. Then he could turn his attention to others. He'd not see his sole charge rush off to be trampled. Even if the desire was borne out of human kindness.
As the girl rambled in fear, narrating the fires and the people and their need for escape, Leo was scanning the crowd. It was safest to run with the current, to not upset the panic of the crowd by forcing themselves upstream. But, from his advantage of height, Leo could read where the current of feet changed. No one was organised. Everyone was rushing. Different streams of people collided with crushing and dangerous force at different corners, people smashed underfoot and lost to Hades through fear, not fire. Mapping the different eddies and flows, Leonidas prepared a route in his head. A route that followed rhythm and current but would see them clear of mortal crushes.
Pushing the girl with the hand on her side, so that she faced the right way, Leonidas kept her ahead of him. At her back, he would be the first thing anyone rushed into. He would be the one to take the force of the collision. Keeping his halberd at one side of them and his free hand upon the girl's shoulder as a guide, Leo had the two of them near-protected on most sides.
"Go!" he called to her over the din. He leaned low so that she might hear him, more of her hair sticking momentarily to his face. "Go! I'll tell you where to lead."
The young woman tried. Leo could tell that she did. She moved with haste that showed intent but with a delicacy born of inexperience. Her fear kept her from taking a step when there was the worry of collision, her uncertainty leading to dithering and scared bouncing from foot to foot. Even with the current of people, they had made it only a few metres before Leonidas stepped in. He had not the time.
Forcing her around, so that she faced him once more, Leo made a face of contrition half-lost behind the blood.
"Forgive me, my Lady," he said before snatching up her arms and pulling them around his neck. Her body came up flush to his, his free arm snaked around her waist and lifted her from the floor altogether.
"Hold on," he called by her ear. And then he ran.
With the flow of people, not to mention his height and exposed blade, Leonidas carved a path through the crowd far more effectively than the wisp of a girl he held. He hurried along the streets, darting to the left or right into an open aisle between broken stalls whenever he knew there to be danger ahead. Only for moments at a time was he forced to move against the crushing flow before he joined another vein of the crowd. Each time was a necessary evil to avoid a deadly collision course that Leo had already marked on the map in his head.
It would take them some minutes but Leonidas knew they were on the right course. A course that would see them beyond the market, out of the smoke and into the Outer Circle of the Athenian capital...
The world was awash in a sea of flames. Elena pressed herself even closer to the soldier until they were in a near embrace, their chests a mere hands breadth apart. He was all that stood between her and the panicked people streaming past them; there was no way she was letting him leave her to face the mob alone. The smoke was choking, the noise near deafening, and the panicking crowd was something that Elena had never been exposed to in her life. She knew nothing of pain and chaos, for hers was a life of noble privilege.
The life of a courtier was organized and quiet with only a few variations in the daily routine. This went far beyond Elena's experience, and she was scared for one of the first times in her life. This was the soldier's realm of expertise, not hers. She immediately trusted him to know the best way to get them out of the main square and to safety, despite his gruesome injuries. It was a tentative type of trust bourne from her social status and the belief that was impressed upon all nobles that the military and the law were above question. In this case however it was also the soldier himself and the gentle way he held her, the way his strong arm held his spear to protect her, and the expression in his eyes as he looked at her.
His blood was dripping on them both as he looked for her ladies maid. Elena's heart warmed at the man taking a dangerous moment to look for someone well below both of their stations. While the soldier was distracted, they were collided with yet again. A woman covered in soot bumped into the soldier's spear, but his arm was strong and he held Elena steady against him. Her weight shifted to slide a leg between his in order to balance, rubbing against hard metal and equally hard muscle with a shiver. They really needed to get out of here, for Elena knew she wasn't the only responsibility of his, the soldiers of the city were tasked with protecting all of Athenia's citizens equally, regardless of rank. They were supposed to uphold justice and fairness for all -a noble task.
Elena spun to face in front of them with his help, trying valiantly to prevent her knees from knocking together. His warm presence at her back was the reassurance she needed to follow his directions, abeit with slow, halting steps. Blood was pounding in her ears, she could hear her heartbeat. She swiped a hand over her eyes, trying to rub the dryness from them with little success. The sun beating down on the plateia only increased the heat from the fires around them. The shaking in her legs was getting worse with every step; it was as if now that her body had moved, it had remembered her injuries and demanded to rest. Frustration at her own weakness and pain pushed Elena fowrard several more steps. The soldier was so close behind her that his blood dripped into her hair. He suffered greatly and yet he was calm and steadfast while she felt like she could fall apart at any moment.
They had only managed a few steps before they came to an intersection of sorts where people were darting several directions at once. There were several fires on one side and the breeze was blowing smoke across the path in front of them, making the air thick. Elena's steps slowed even more with the lack of visibility, trying to follow the soldier's guiding hand on her shoulder when her foot bumped into something that gave slightly under her shoe. The pair stopped and Elena squinted through the smoke, which revealed the body of a young woman. Blood had pooled and splattered the stone around her head, and her face bore a paleness that Elena instinctively recognized as being a marker of death. Bile rose in the courtier's throat as she froze at the sight, unable to look away. Her weight shifted backwards, recoiling into the soldier's chest, revolting against being in such close proximity to the body.
Thank the gods this was the moment the soldier chose to turn her around again. He had apparently lost patience with her, although Elena didn't actually see his expression. She was staring at his chest plate, grateful to no longer have to look at the woman as he murmured an apology. Within an instant her arms were around his neck, his sweaty skin making her palms sting fiercely. The pounding in her ears reached such a deafening volume it was a wonder he did not hear it. He instructed her to hold on and although she scarcely heard his words she did so, tucking her face near his shoulder at the same time he settled her against him. The rest was a blur of motion as they moved through the flow of people, the soldier never missing a step. Elena lifted her head only once when he paused before darting them upstream for a few steps to change direction, then she tucked her face even tighter against his neck. His masculine, sweaty smell filled her nose and for the first time since the attack began, Elena felt truly safe.
Every minute felt like an hour but eventually the soldier's footsteps seemed to slow a little. Peeking back over his shoulder she could tell they had moved into one of the side streets. The crowd had thinned considerably and some individuals had even collapsed at the edges, sitting on doorsteps or lying down in the places where water would run when it rained. Every single person was filthy with soot, some sporting burns, bruises, or black eyes as proof of their struggle to escape the flames. So much suffering... The soldier would be needed by others, despite his injuries, and she felt guilty for her part in them. Her lips brushed his ear. "I'm sorry for injuring you. Does it hurt overly much?" As they made another turn, Elena wiggled in his arms. He wasn't planning on carrying her all the way home, was he? "I think -I think I can walk again now. You should save your strength for others anyway." As grateful as she was for his assistance, her words were spoken from a deep concern that her actions would hinder his ability to do his job effectively.
Peach
Elena
Peach
Elena
Awards
First Impressions:Delicate; Kind smile, golden hair, soft hands, full lower lip
Address: Your Her Ladyship
The world was awash in a sea of flames. Elena pressed herself even closer to the soldier until they were in a near embrace, their chests a mere hands breadth apart. He was all that stood between her and the panicked people streaming past them; there was no way she was letting him leave her to face the mob alone. The smoke was choking, the noise near deafening, and the panicking crowd was something that Elena had never been exposed to in her life. She knew nothing of pain and chaos, for hers was a life of noble privilege.
The life of a courtier was organized and quiet with only a few variations in the daily routine. This went far beyond Elena's experience, and she was scared for one of the first times in her life. This was the soldier's realm of expertise, not hers. She immediately trusted him to know the best way to get them out of the main square and to safety, despite his gruesome injuries. It was a tentative type of trust bourne from her social status and the belief that was impressed upon all nobles that the military and the law were above question. In this case however it was also the soldier himself and the gentle way he held her, the way his strong arm held his spear to protect her, and the expression in his eyes as he looked at her.
His blood was dripping on them both as he looked for her ladies maid. Elena's heart warmed at the man taking a dangerous moment to look for someone well below both of their stations. While the soldier was distracted, they were collided with yet again. A woman covered in soot bumped into the soldier's spear, but his arm was strong and he held Elena steady against him. Her weight shifted to slide a leg between his in order to balance, rubbing against hard metal and equally hard muscle with a shiver. They really needed to get out of here, for Elena knew she wasn't the only responsibility of his, the soldiers of the city were tasked with protecting all of Athenia's citizens equally, regardless of rank. They were supposed to uphold justice and fairness for all -a noble task.
Elena spun to face in front of them with his help, trying valiantly to prevent her knees from knocking together. His warm presence at her back was the reassurance she needed to follow his directions, abeit with slow, halting steps. Blood was pounding in her ears, she could hear her heartbeat. She swiped a hand over her eyes, trying to rub the dryness from them with little success. The sun beating down on the plateia only increased the heat from the fires around them. The shaking in her legs was getting worse with every step; it was as if now that her body had moved, it had remembered her injuries and demanded to rest. Frustration at her own weakness and pain pushed Elena fowrard several more steps. The soldier was so close behind her that his blood dripped into her hair. He suffered greatly and yet he was calm and steadfast while she felt like she could fall apart at any moment.
They had only managed a few steps before they came to an intersection of sorts where people were darting several directions at once. There were several fires on one side and the breeze was blowing smoke across the path in front of them, making the air thick. Elena's steps slowed even more with the lack of visibility, trying to follow the soldier's guiding hand on her shoulder when her foot bumped into something that gave slightly under her shoe. The pair stopped and Elena squinted through the smoke, which revealed the body of a young woman. Blood had pooled and splattered the stone around her head, and her face bore a paleness that Elena instinctively recognized as being a marker of death. Bile rose in the courtier's throat as she froze at the sight, unable to look away. Her weight shifted backwards, recoiling into the soldier's chest, revolting against being in such close proximity to the body.
Thank the gods this was the moment the soldier chose to turn her around again. He had apparently lost patience with her, although Elena didn't actually see his expression. She was staring at his chest plate, grateful to no longer have to look at the woman as he murmured an apology. Within an instant her arms were around his neck, his sweaty skin making her palms sting fiercely. The pounding in her ears reached such a deafening volume it was a wonder he did not hear it. He instructed her to hold on and although she scarcely heard his words she did so, tucking her face near his shoulder at the same time he settled her against him. The rest was a blur of motion as they moved through the flow of people, the soldier never missing a step. Elena lifted her head only once when he paused before darting them upstream for a few steps to change direction, then she tucked her face even tighter against his neck. His masculine, sweaty smell filled her nose and for the first time since the attack began, Elena felt truly safe.
Every minute felt like an hour but eventually the soldier's footsteps seemed to slow a little. Peeking back over his shoulder she could tell they had moved into one of the side streets. The crowd had thinned considerably and some individuals had even collapsed at the edges, sitting on doorsteps or lying down in the places where water would run when it rained. Every single person was filthy with soot, some sporting burns, bruises, or black eyes as proof of their struggle to escape the flames. So much suffering... The soldier would be needed by others, despite his injuries, and she felt guilty for her part in them. Her lips brushed his ear. "I'm sorry for injuring you. Does it hurt overly much?" As they made another turn, Elena wiggled in his arms. He wasn't planning on carrying her all the way home, was he? "I think -I think I can walk again now. You should save your strength for others anyway." As grateful as she was for his assistance, her words were spoken from a deep concern that her actions would hinder his ability to do his job effectively.
The world was awash in a sea of flames. Elena pressed herself even closer to the soldier until they were in a near embrace, their chests a mere hands breadth apart. He was all that stood between her and the panicked people streaming past them; there was no way she was letting him leave her to face the mob alone. The smoke was choking, the noise near deafening, and the panicking crowd was something that Elena had never been exposed to in her life. She knew nothing of pain and chaos, for hers was a life of noble privilege.
The life of a courtier was organized and quiet with only a few variations in the daily routine. This went far beyond Elena's experience, and she was scared for one of the first times in her life. This was the soldier's realm of expertise, not hers. She immediately trusted him to know the best way to get them out of the main square and to safety, despite his gruesome injuries. It was a tentative type of trust bourne from her social status and the belief that was impressed upon all nobles that the military and the law were above question. In this case however it was also the soldier himself and the gentle way he held her, the way his strong arm held his spear to protect her, and the expression in his eyes as he looked at her.
His blood was dripping on them both as he looked for her ladies maid. Elena's heart warmed at the man taking a dangerous moment to look for someone well below both of their stations. While the soldier was distracted, they were collided with yet again. A woman covered in soot bumped into the soldier's spear, but his arm was strong and he held Elena steady against him. Her weight shifted to slide a leg between his in order to balance, rubbing against hard metal and equally hard muscle with a shiver. They really needed to get out of here, for Elena knew she wasn't the only responsibility of his, the soldiers of the city were tasked with protecting all of Athenia's citizens equally, regardless of rank. They were supposed to uphold justice and fairness for all -a noble task.
Elena spun to face in front of them with his help, trying valiantly to prevent her knees from knocking together. His warm presence at her back was the reassurance she needed to follow his directions, abeit with slow, halting steps. Blood was pounding in her ears, she could hear her heartbeat. She swiped a hand over her eyes, trying to rub the dryness from them with little success. The sun beating down on the plateia only increased the heat from the fires around them. The shaking in her legs was getting worse with every step; it was as if now that her body had moved, it had remembered her injuries and demanded to rest. Frustration at her own weakness and pain pushed Elena fowrard several more steps. The soldier was so close behind her that his blood dripped into her hair. He suffered greatly and yet he was calm and steadfast while she felt like she could fall apart at any moment.
They had only managed a few steps before they came to an intersection of sorts where people were darting several directions at once. There were several fires on one side and the breeze was blowing smoke across the path in front of them, making the air thick. Elena's steps slowed even more with the lack of visibility, trying to follow the soldier's guiding hand on her shoulder when her foot bumped into something that gave slightly under her shoe. The pair stopped and Elena squinted through the smoke, which revealed the body of a young woman. Blood had pooled and splattered the stone around her head, and her face bore a paleness that Elena instinctively recognized as being a marker of death. Bile rose in the courtier's throat as she froze at the sight, unable to look away. Her weight shifted backwards, recoiling into the soldier's chest, revolting against being in such close proximity to the body.
Thank the gods this was the moment the soldier chose to turn her around again. He had apparently lost patience with her, although Elena didn't actually see his expression. She was staring at his chest plate, grateful to no longer have to look at the woman as he murmured an apology. Within an instant her arms were around his neck, his sweaty skin making her palms sting fiercely. The pounding in her ears reached such a deafening volume it was a wonder he did not hear it. He instructed her to hold on and although she scarcely heard his words she did so, tucking her face near his shoulder at the same time he settled her against him. The rest was a blur of motion as they moved through the flow of people, the soldier never missing a step. Elena lifted her head only once when he paused before darting them upstream for a few steps to change direction, then she tucked her face even tighter against his neck. His masculine, sweaty smell filled her nose and for the first time since the attack began, Elena felt truly safe.
Every minute felt like an hour but eventually the soldier's footsteps seemed to slow a little. Peeking back over his shoulder she could tell they had moved into one of the side streets. The crowd had thinned considerably and some individuals had even collapsed at the edges, sitting on doorsteps or lying down in the places where water would run when it rained. Every single person was filthy with soot, some sporting burns, bruises, or black eyes as proof of their struggle to escape the flames. So much suffering... The soldier would be needed by others, despite his injuries, and she felt guilty for her part in them. Her lips brushed his ear. "I'm sorry for injuring you. Does it hurt overly much?" As they made another turn, Elena wiggled in his arms. He wasn't planning on carrying her all the way home, was he? "I think -I think I can walk again now. You should save your strength for others anyway." As grateful as she was for his assistance, her words were spoken from a deep concern that her actions would hinder his ability to do his job effectively.
The jostling and touching of two bodies rocked by the current of a populace are lost in the moment. Leonidas barely noticed the leg against his, the way the young woman collided with his chest when startled backwards, or the manner in which she pressed herself flush to his body. His attention and focus were upon the chaos at hand. More often than not, it was after the event that such memories would fall back into place, haunting visions and dreams.
As Leonidas rushed from one current of passage to another, darting between streets and seeking a clear thoroughfare in which he could truly sense an element of safety, his priority was on reading the Athenian people; which ones would run scared in a sudden flurry, which would spasm with fear and behave irrationally? The buildings were easy, the fires more or less predictable with the limited wind. The true threat was the people, as evidenced by the body the young woman had seen in the street. With her face pressed to Leonidas' neck, she was kept from most other gore upon the scene but Leo witnessed it. He saw the corpses, the limbs, the crushed bodies and the drained faces. He saw them and, assuring himself that they were, in fact, dead, passed on.
When the crowd thinned, the lady in his arms wriggled. She spoke to him of his injury - something he had, in all seriousness, forgotten - and asked to be put down. Falling into a routine, Leonidas was quick to obey her instruction, carefully setting the waif of a girl back on her feet and immediately hastening a step back. Respectful distance was once more attained.
Swallowing, Leo looked about them at the street they now found themselves in. It was a side street, perhaps a quart of a league from the market. The smell of smoke was still heavy in the air, the gleaming flicker of fire casting orange over the clouds nearby. People were still fleeing, screaming as they hurried down the street. Yet, there were fewer, sparser. They avoided Leo and the young woman with ease, stepping about them as they hurried home.
"Not really," Leonidas replied to the girl's question. He brushed at his nose with the back of his hand. It came back scarlet but he felt the crusting about his nostrils already setting in. The fires had at least dried the stem for him. "It'll probably hurt later." He added, not for sympathy but for the sake of honesty. It was a fact that the pain of injuries tended to be lost in the moment. Just as the gentle touches of a woman were forgotten amidst a hubbub. Only later did they each return for their own due consideration.
Glancing around, Leo turned his halberd upright, studding the base of its shaft into a crack in the stone. He didn't like the idea of leaving a young woman to make her own way through a city fraught with panic but her immediate danger had now passed. Her smooth skin was free from flame and her hair of soot. Unfortunately, his own blood still marred the pretty effect somewhat...
"You'll be alright, my Lady?" he asked her, just to be sure. He glanced over her shoulder as if to imply the direction she would do best to run in. "I should return to the market..."
This last was phrased like a question. Whilst it was his duty to return to those who needed him, she outranked him by a thousand hands. She was so above him in the social hierarchy that he didn't even recognise her. Some of the noblewomen he was aware of. The Antonis were obviously a familiar sight... But this one he knew neither her face nor her name. Which told him more than anything that she was beyond him in every way.
Ergo, he wasn't about to turn his back on her, should she have opposing orders to his instincts. Offending a woman such as her was a quick-fire way of getting your neck strung.
JD
Leonidas
JD
Leonidas
Awards
First Impressions:Slender; Prominent cheekbones, bright blue eyes, tendon-heavy hands.
Address: Your
The jostling and touching of two bodies rocked by the current of a populace are lost in the moment. Leonidas barely noticed the leg against his, the way the young woman collided with his chest when startled backwards, or the manner in which she pressed herself flush to his body. His attention and focus were upon the chaos at hand. More often than not, it was after the event that such memories would fall back into place, haunting visions and dreams.
As Leonidas rushed from one current of passage to another, darting between streets and seeking a clear thoroughfare in which he could truly sense an element of safety, his priority was on reading the Athenian people; which ones would run scared in a sudden flurry, which would spasm with fear and behave irrationally? The buildings were easy, the fires more or less predictable with the limited wind. The true threat was the people, as evidenced by the body the young woman had seen in the street. With her face pressed to Leonidas' neck, she was kept from most other gore upon the scene but Leo witnessed it. He saw the corpses, the limbs, the crushed bodies and the drained faces. He saw them and, assuring himself that they were, in fact, dead, passed on.
When the crowd thinned, the lady in his arms wriggled. She spoke to him of his injury - something he had, in all seriousness, forgotten - and asked to be put down. Falling into a routine, Leonidas was quick to obey her instruction, carefully setting the waif of a girl back on her feet and immediately hastening a step back. Respectful distance was once more attained.
Swallowing, Leo looked about them at the street they now found themselves in. It was a side street, perhaps a quart of a league from the market. The smell of smoke was still heavy in the air, the gleaming flicker of fire casting orange over the clouds nearby. People were still fleeing, screaming as they hurried down the street. Yet, there were fewer, sparser. They avoided Leo and the young woman with ease, stepping about them as they hurried home.
"Not really," Leonidas replied to the girl's question. He brushed at his nose with the back of his hand. It came back scarlet but he felt the crusting about his nostrils already setting in. The fires had at least dried the stem for him. "It'll probably hurt later." He added, not for sympathy but for the sake of honesty. It was a fact that the pain of injuries tended to be lost in the moment. Just as the gentle touches of a woman were forgotten amidst a hubbub. Only later did they each return for their own due consideration.
Glancing around, Leo turned his halberd upright, studding the base of its shaft into a crack in the stone. He didn't like the idea of leaving a young woman to make her own way through a city fraught with panic but her immediate danger had now passed. Her smooth skin was free from flame and her hair of soot. Unfortunately, his own blood still marred the pretty effect somewhat...
"You'll be alright, my Lady?" he asked her, just to be sure. He glanced over her shoulder as if to imply the direction she would do best to run in. "I should return to the market..."
This last was phrased like a question. Whilst it was his duty to return to those who needed him, she outranked him by a thousand hands. She was so above him in the social hierarchy that he didn't even recognise her. Some of the noblewomen he was aware of. The Antonis were obviously a familiar sight... But this one he knew neither her face nor her name. Which told him more than anything that she was beyond him in every way.
Ergo, he wasn't about to turn his back on her, should she have opposing orders to his instincts. Offending a woman such as her was a quick-fire way of getting your neck strung.
The jostling and touching of two bodies rocked by the current of a populace are lost in the moment. Leonidas barely noticed the leg against his, the way the young woman collided with his chest when startled backwards, or the manner in which she pressed herself flush to his body. His attention and focus were upon the chaos at hand. More often than not, it was after the event that such memories would fall back into place, haunting visions and dreams.
As Leonidas rushed from one current of passage to another, darting between streets and seeking a clear thoroughfare in which he could truly sense an element of safety, his priority was on reading the Athenian people; which ones would run scared in a sudden flurry, which would spasm with fear and behave irrationally? The buildings were easy, the fires more or less predictable with the limited wind. The true threat was the people, as evidenced by the body the young woman had seen in the street. With her face pressed to Leonidas' neck, she was kept from most other gore upon the scene but Leo witnessed it. He saw the corpses, the limbs, the crushed bodies and the drained faces. He saw them and, assuring himself that they were, in fact, dead, passed on.
When the crowd thinned, the lady in his arms wriggled. She spoke to him of his injury - something he had, in all seriousness, forgotten - and asked to be put down. Falling into a routine, Leonidas was quick to obey her instruction, carefully setting the waif of a girl back on her feet and immediately hastening a step back. Respectful distance was once more attained.
Swallowing, Leo looked about them at the street they now found themselves in. It was a side street, perhaps a quart of a league from the market. The smell of smoke was still heavy in the air, the gleaming flicker of fire casting orange over the clouds nearby. People were still fleeing, screaming as they hurried down the street. Yet, there were fewer, sparser. They avoided Leo and the young woman with ease, stepping about them as they hurried home.
"Not really," Leonidas replied to the girl's question. He brushed at his nose with the back of his hand. It came back scarlet but he felt the crusting about his nostrils already setting in. The fires had at least dried the stem for him. "It'll probably hurt later." He added, not for sympathy but for the sake of honesty. It was a fact that the pain of injuries tended to be lost in the moment. Just as the gentle touches of a woman were forgotten amidst a hubbub. Only later did they each return for their own due consideration.
Glancing around, Leo turned his halberd upright, studding the base of its shaft into a crack in the stone. He didn't like the idea of leaving a young woman to make her own way through a city fraught with panic but her immediate danger had now passed. Her smooth skin was free from flame and her hair of soot. Unfortunately, his own blood still marred the pretty effect somewhat...
"You'll be alright, my Lady?" he asked her, just to be sure. He glanced over her shoulder as if to imply the direction she would do best to run in. "I should return to the market..."
This last was phrased like a question. Whilst it was his duty to return to those who needed him, she outranked him by a thousand hands. She was so above him in the social hierarchy that he didn't even recognise her. Some of the noblewomen he was aware of. The Antonis were obviously a familiar sight... But this one he knew neither her face nor her name. Which told him more than anything that she was beyond him in every way.
Ergo, he wasn't about to turn his back on her, should she have opposing orders to his instincts. Offending a woman such as her was a quick-fire way of getting your neck strung.
At last, the whirlwind of the past few minutes slowed and normal time was resumed. The ordeal had lasted short minutes, their escape only a few more than that, but it had felt like an eternity to Elena. Her hands stung, her face was covered in a light sheen of sweat from the heat they had endured, and her body felt sore. Being carried was not as comfortable and restful as one would think; it only amplified the courtier's aches and pains. Even if the person doing the carrying was gentle as can be, which he was, and even if it was clear he was trying not to hurt her, which he certainly was. He was holding her half as though she was something precious and breakable and half as if she was a sack of potatoes, a clear sign of his military training. Considering his vocation was based around authority and violence, Elena had been pleasantly surprised by the gentleness of his hands and the care with which he set her on her feet. The side street felt much safer and less exposed than the market had been, and she could se some of the tension drain from the soldier's shoulders.
Just as they stopped a man ran past them, and it was as if a cloak which had been lifted due to their situation settled over their shoulders once more. The rules which governed their society returned, and with it Elena felt an uncomfortable tension between them. It seemed the soldier was feeling the same waybecause he was suddenly unsure and barely looking at her. The stark difference in behaviour did not escape the courtier's notice and her own discomfort increased, although it did not change her manners. At his statement that his pain would probably increase later on, she nodded guiltily, still feeling responsible. Her hand lifted from her side a few inches as if she considered touching his arm before returning to her side once more. The girl wished she could offer to bring him home for treatment and rest, but if he accepted he would likely be punished for abandoning his post, not to mention the reaction her father would have... Inviting someone of no importance and rank for supper would be considered an embarrassment, no matter the heroic actions that led to the invitation. And his actions had been heroic to her. No, as much as Elena wanted, there was nothing at present she could do to ease his pain, and he was likely to refuse assistance anyway. If she knew one thing about soldiers, it was that their pride often made it impossible for them to accept help, especially from a woman. And the ones who would accept such an invitation would have less than honourable expectations to go along with it. Better to say nothing at the present. She glanced down at her feet, only now feeling that she had bloody knees from her fall, although she had miraculously managed to keep both shoes on her feet.
"I hope-" she faltered, not sure what it was that she hoped for. Her eyes flicked back to his for a moment before settling somewhere around his chest plate. He probably thought she was weak after her lack of ability to even save herself during the attack. Elena squared her shoulders -something her father had taught her was important because it let everyone know you were strong, capable, and above all else in control- deciding on the spot to invite him to the Marikas household for supper, consequences be damned -just as a shout reached them. “My lady! Thank the Gods, you’re alive!” Elena had only a moment before the woman was upon them, not enough time to process it was her ladies maid. It was obvious when she did however as she immediately embraced the girl. “Myrine! Oh, I’m so happy to see you! Are you hurt?” The pair pulled back from each other but continued clasping hands as each inspected the other for injuries. The maid denied any harm, exclaiming that the first projectile had startled her so much she’d fallen right into the fountain, and had been paralyzed by fear until the attack suddenly stopped, after which point she had run out of the square as quickly as she could. It was fate that had led to her happening to see Elena being carried down the street, and from there she had followed for several turns as she tried to catch them.
What bravery! Elena was glad to see her servant and even more so that Myrine was unscathed by her ordeal, if a little damp. It was a small price to pay for her life, in any case. The maid was concerned upon seeing the blood marring Elena's hair, only calming once she had been assured that the blood belonged to another. That brought the gaze of both women back to the soldier once again, with Myrine staring at his bloody face with an uncomfortable expression. "I thank you for saving my lady. I'll see her safely home." At Elena's expression the woman added, "The Varonos and Varoni will have heard of the attack by now and be worried sick." The lady's maid bowed and stepped back a few paces knowing that the thought of her family's worry would spur Elena on more than anything else.
"As you can see, I'll be well taken care of. My home isn't far." Elena bowed her head slightly and hid the pleasure his question had provoked. He worried about her. Elena did not warm as much as she normally would have at the thought, for he was headed right back the way they'd come. Her eyes met his for a moment. "Thank you again. I won't forget this." She wanted to do something to show him her gratitude, but before she could move Myrine had stepped forward, and given Elena's hand a hard tug.
"We should get out of here and let him get back to his work," the lady's maid said, the disapproval dripping from every word all reminding the courtier they needed to get moving. Reluctantly she allowed the lady's maid to pull her along as the pair broke into a run. The whole day would seem surreal later on when she recounted her story, but right now it still felt too real. "Goodbye," she called back to him over her shoulder. She was headed for safety, he into danger, and Elena wondered if she would ever see him again. The odds were that she wouldn't, Athenia had many guards, and even more soldiers. He was part of an entity much larger than himself. She had just enough time for one look back as they turned the corner, and then he was gone.
Peach
Elena
Peach
Elena
Awards
First Impressions:Delicate; Kind smile, golden hair, soft hands, full lower lip
Address: Your Her Ladyship
At last, the whirlwind of the past few minutes slowed and normal time was resumed. The ordeal had lasted short minutes, their escape only a few more than that, but it had felt like an eternity to Elena. Her hands stung, her face was covered in a light sheen of sweat from the heat they had endured, and her body felt sore. Being carried was not as comfortable and restful as one would think; it only amplified the courtier's aches and pains. Even if the person doing the carrying was gentle as can be, which he was, and even if it was clear he was trying not to hurt her, which he certainly was. He was holding her half as though she was something precious and breakable and half as if she was a sack of potatoes, a clear sign of his military training. Considering his vocation was based around authority and violence, Elena had been pleasantly surprised by the gentleness of his hands and the care with which he set her on her feet. The side street felt much safer and less exposed than the market had been, and she could se some of the tension drain from the soldier's shoulders.
Just as they stopped a man ran past them, and it was as if a cloak which had been lifted due to their situation settled over their shoulders once more. The rules which governed their society returned, and with it Elena felt an uncomfortable tension between them. It seemed the soldier was feeling the same waybecause he was suddenly unsure and barely looking at her. The stark difference in behaviour did not escape the courtier's notice and her own discomfort increased, although it did not change her manners. At his statement that his pain would probably increase later on, she nodded guiltily, still feeling responsible. Her hand lifted from her side a few inches as if she considered touching his arm before returning to her side once more. The girl wished she could offer to bring him home for treatment and rest, but if he accepted he would likely be punished for abandoning his post, not to mention the reaction her father would have... Inviting someone of no importance and rank for supper would be considered an embarrassment, no matter the heroic actions that led to the invitation. And his actions had been heroic to her. No, as much as Elena wanted, there was nothing at present she could do to ease his pain, and he was likely to refuse assistance anyway. If she knew one thing about soldiers, it was that their pride often made it impossible for them to accept help, especially from a woman. And the ones who would accept such an invitation would have less than honourable expectations to go along with it. Better to say nothing at the present. She glanced down at her feet, only now feeling that she had bloody knees from her fall, although she had miraculously managed to keep both shoes on her feet.
"I hope-" she faltered, not sure what it was that she hoped for. Her eyes flicked back to his for a moment before settling somewhere around his chest plate. He probably thought she was weak after her lack of ability to even save herself during the attack. Elena squared her shoulders -something her father had taught her was important because it let everyone know you were strong, capable, and above all else in control- deciding on the spot to invite him to the Marikas household for supper, consequences be damned -just as a shout reached them. “My lady! Thank the Gods, you’re alive!” Elena had only a moment before the woman was upon them, not enough time to process it was her ladies maid. It was obvious when she did however as she immediately embraced the girl. “Myrine! Oh, I’m so happy to see you! Are you hurt?” The pair pulled back from each other but continued clasping hands as each inspected the other for injuries. The maid denied any harm, exclaiming that the first projectile had startled her so much she’d fallen right into the fountain, and had been paralyzed by fear until the attack suddenly stopped, after which point she had run out of the square as quickly as she could. It was fate that had led to her happening to see Elena being carried down the street, and from there she had followed for several turns as she tried to catch them.
What bravery! Elena was glad to see her servant and even more so that Myrine was unscathed by her ordeal, if a little damp. It was a small price to pay for her life, in any case. The maid was concerned upon seeing the blood marring Elena's hair, only calming once she had been assured that the blood belonged to another. That brought the gaze of both women back to the soldier once again, with Myrine staring at his bloody face with an uncomfortable expression. "I thank you for saving my lady. I'll see her safely home." At Elena's expression the woman added, "The Varonos and Varoni will have heard of the attack by now and be worried sick." The lady's maid bowed and stepped back a few paces knowing that the thought of her family's worry would spur Elena on more than anything else.
"As you can see, I'll be well taken care of. My home isn't far." Elena bowed her head slightly and hid the pleasure his question had provoked. He worried about her. Elena did not warm as much as she normally would have at the thought, for he was headed right back the way they'd come. Her eyes met his for a moment. "Thank you again. I won't forget this." She wanted to do something to show him her gratitude, but before she could move Myrine had stepped forward, and given Elena's hand a hard tug.
"We should get out of here and let him get back to his work," the lady's maid said, the disapproval dripping from every word all reminding the courtier they needed to get moving. Reluctantly she allowed the lady's maid to pull her along as the pair broke into a run. The whole day would seem surreal later on when she recounted her story, but right now it still felt too real. "Goodbye," she called back to him over her shoulder. She was headed for safety, he into danger, and Elena wondered if she would ever see him again. The odds were that she wouldn't, Athenia had many guards, and even more soldiers. He was part of an entity much larger than himself. She had just enough time for one look back as they turned the corner, and then he was gone.
At last, the whirlwind of the past few minutes slowed and normal time was resumed. The ordeal had lasted short minutes, their escape only a few more than that, but it had felt like an eternity to Elena. Her hands stung, her face was covered in a light sheen of sweat from the heat they had endured, and her body felt sore. Being carried was not as comfortable and restful as one would think; it only amplified the courtier's aches and pains. Even if the person doing the carrying was gentle as can be, which he was, and even if it was clear he was trying not to hurt her, which he certainly was. He was holding her half as though she was something precious and breakable and half as if she was a sack of potatoes, a clear sign of his military training. Considering his vocation was based around authority and violence, Elena had been pleasantly surprised by the gentleness of his hands and the care with which he set her on her feet. The side street felt much safer and less exposed than the market had been, and she could se some of the tension drain from the soldier's shoulders.
Just as they stopped a man ran past them, and it was as if a cloak which had been lifted due to their situation settled over their shoulders once more. The rules which governed their society returned, and with it Elena felt an uncomfortable tension between them. It seemed the soldier was feeling the same waybecause he was suddenly unsure and barely looking at her. The stark difference in behaviour did not escape the courtier's notice and her own discomfort increased, although it did not change her manners. At his statement that his pain would probably increase later on, she nodded guiltily, still feeling responsible. Her hand lifted from her side a few inches as if she considered touching his arm before returning to her side once more. The girl wished she could offer to bring him home for treatment and rest, but if he accepted he would likely be punished for abandoning his post, not to mention the reaction her father would have... Inviting someone of no importance and rank for supper would be considered an embarrassment, no matter the heroic actions that led to the invitation. And his actions had been heroic to her. No, as much as Elena wanted, there was nothing at present she could do to ease his pain, and he was likely to refuse assistance anyway. If she knew one thing about soldiers, it was that their pride often made it impossible for them to accept help, especially from a woman. And the ones who would accept such an invitation would have less than honourable expectations to go along with it. Better to say nothing at the present. She glanced down at her feet, only now feeling that she had bloody knees from her fall, although she had miraculously managed to keep both shoes on her feet.
"I hope-" she faltered, not sure what it was that she hoped for. Her eyes flicked back to his for a moment before settling somewhere around his chest plate. He probably thought she was weak after her lack of ability to even save herself during the attack. Elena squared her shoulders -something her father had taught her was important because it let everyone know you were strong, capable, and above all else in control- deciding on the spot to invite him to the Marikas household for supper, consequences be damned -just as a shout reached them. “My lady! Thank the Gods, you’re alive!” Elena had only a moment before the woman was upon them, not enough time to process it was her ladies maid. It was obvious when she did however as she immediately embraced the girl. “Myrine! Oh, I’m so happy to see you! Are you hurt?” The pair pulled back from each other but continued clasping hands as each inspected the other for injuries. The maid denied any harm, exclaiming that the first projectile had startled her so much she’d fallen right into the fountain, and had been paralyzed by fear until the attack suddenly stopped, after which point she had run out of the square as quickly as she could. It was fate that had led to her happening to see Elena being carried down the street, and from there she had followed for several turns as she tried to catch them.
What bravery! Elena was glad to see her servant and even more so that Myrine was unscathed by her ordeal, if a little damp. It was a small price to pay for her life, in any case. The maid was concerned upon seeing the blood marring Elena's hair, only calming once she had been assured that the blood belonged to another. That brought the gaze of both women back to the soldier once again, with Myrine staring at his bloody face with an uncomfortable expression. "I thank you for saving my lady. I'll see her safely home." At Elena's expression the woman added, "The Varonos and Varoni will have heard of the attack by now and be worried sick." The lady's maid bowed and stepped back a few paces knowing that the thought of her family's worry would spur Elena on more than anything else.
"As you can see, I'll be well taken care of. My home isn't far." Elena bowed her head slightly and hid the pleasure his question had provoked. He worried about her. Elena did not warm as much as she normally would have at the thought, for he was headed right back the way they'd come. Her eyes met his for a moment. "Thank you again. I won't forget this." She wanted to do something to show him her gratitude, but before she could move Myrine had stepped forward, and given Elena's hand a hard tug.
"We should get out of here and let him get back to his work," the lady's maid said, the disapproval dripping from every word all reminding the courtier they needed to get moving. Reluctantly she allowed the lady's maid to pull her along as the pair broke into a run. The whole day would seem surreal later on when she recounted her story, but right now it still felt too real. "Goodbye," she called back to him over her shoulder. She was headed for safety, he into danger, and Elena wondered if she would ever see him again. The odds were that she wouldn't, Athenia had many guards, and even more soldiers. He was part of an entity much larger than himself. She had just enough time for one look back as they turned the corner, and then he was gone.
Unused to the notion that someone of nobility might feel responsible for the pain they enacted on others, Leonidas didn't notice the young girl's expression of shame and consternation. To anyone observant of the sensibilities of ladies, it would have been obvious that she felt responsible for the injury to his face. To Leonidas it was lost entirely. He was far too familiar with the class divide eating away any compassion as it tried to pass from one level of personage to another. And he was generally inept at reading the fairer sex altogether. Even those from his side of that social wall.
Instead, Leo was preoccupied with a quick, visual scan of the lady. There was nothing romantic in his stare. He was assessing her for injury. Checking her for indecency about her raiment or difficulties in her gait. He'd not been raised to leave a woman alone. Especially if they were injured or at risk in some way.
Such a worry was taken from him, however, when a woman - young in years but older than the noble lady - came darting through the crowd with a rush of gratitude to the Fates. She was flinging her arms around the young woman before Leonidas could so much as react to her presence, assuring him that she was friend over foe. The two conversed with an easy banter that told him the woman was probably her ladies maid; technically beneath her in rank but close enough emotionally to let the strict rules of formality drop in a crisis such as this.
The woman was quick to thank Leonidas but equally speedy in her dismissal of his presence. Like her mistress, she was used to the world of the elite. And Leonidas was not a part of such world. He took no offence at the reaction. He knew that nothing was meant by it. It was simply the way of the world.
When the woman was hastened away, Leonidas was offered only a passing farewell as the blonde tried to call goodbye over her shoulder. Leo did not call out in reply. There were too many people and the air too filled with calls of horror and fear for him to be heard anyway. Instead, he placed a closed fist to his chest and bowed as she was whisked away. A gesture of respect. And of goodbye.
As soon a she was upright once more, Leonidas turned on his heel and sped back towards the market place. His head was still firmly set upon his duty, hardened by the state of chaos around him and finely tuned to the needs of others over himself. Later, however... Later he suspected he would once more think upon the pretty blonde girl from the spice festival...
JD
Leonidas
JD
Leonidas
Awards
First Impressions:Slender; Prominent cheekbones, bright blue eyes, tendon-heavy hands.
Address: Your
Unused to the notion that someone of nobility might feel responsible for the pain they enacted on others, Leonidas didn't notice the young girl's expression of shame and consternation. To anyone observant of the sensibilities of ladies, it would have been obvious that she felt responsible for the injury to his face. To Leonidas it was lost entirely. He was far too familiar with the class divide eating away any compassion as it tried to pass from one level of personage to another. And he was generally inept at reading the fairer sex altogether. Even those from his side of that social wall.
Instead, Leo was preoccupied with a quick, visual scan of the lady. There was nothing romantic in his stare. He was assessing her for injury. Checking her for indecency about her raiment or difficulties in her gait. He'd not been raised to leave a woman alone. Especially if they were injured or at risk in some way.
Such a worry was taken from him, however, when a woman - young in years but older than the noble lady - came darting through the crowd with a rush of gratitude to the Fates. She was flinging her arms around the young woman before Leonidas could so much as react to her presence, assuring him that she was friend over foe. The two conversed with an easy banter that told him the woman was probably her ladies maid; technically beneath her in rank but close enough emotionally to let the strict rules of formality drop in a crisis such as this.
The woman was quick to thank Leonidas but equally speedy in her dismissal of his presence. Like her mistress, she was used to the world of the elite. And Leonidas was not a part of such world. He took no offence at the reaction. He knew that nothing was meant by it. It was simply the way of the world.
When the woman was hastened away, Leonidas was offered only a passing farewell as the blonde tried to call goodbye over her shoulder. Leo did not call out in reply. There were too many people and the air too filled with calls of horror and fear for him to be heard anyway. Instead, he placed a closed fist to his chest and bowed as she was whisked away. A gesture of respect. And of goodbye.
As soon a she was upright once more, Leonidas turned on his heel and sped back towards the market place. His head was still firmly set upon his duty, hardened by the state of chaos around him and finely tuned to the needs of others over himself. Later, however... Later he suspected he would once more think upon the pretty blonde girl from the spice festival...
Unused to the notion that someone of nobility might feel responsible for the pain they enacted on others, Leonidas didn't notice the young girl's expression of shame and consternation. To anyone observant of the sensibilities of ladies, it would have been obvious that she felt responsible for the injury to his face. To Leonidas it was lost entirely. He was far too familiar with the class divide eating away any compassion as it tried to pass from one level of personage to another. And he was generally inept at reading the fairer sex altogether. Even those from his side of that social wall.
Instead, Leo was preoccupied with a quick, visual scan of the lady. There was nothing romantic in his stare. He was assessing her for injury. Checking her for indecency about her raiment or difficulties in her gait. He'd not been raised to leave a woman alone. Especially if they were injured or at risk in some way.
Such a worry was taken from him, however, when a woman - young in years but older than the noble lady - came darting through the crowd with a rush of gratitude to the Fates. She was flinging her arms around the young woman before Leonidas could so much as react to her presence, assuring him that she was friend over foe. The two conversed with an easy banter that told him the woman was probably her ladies maid; technically beneath her in rank but close enough emotionally to let the strict rules of formality drop in a crisis such as this.
The woman was quick to thank Leonidas but equally speedy in her dismissal of his presence. Like her mistress, she was used to the world of the elite. And Leonidas was not a part of such world. He took no offence at the reaction. He knew that nothing was meant by it. It was simply the way of the world.
When the woman was hastened away, Leonidas was offered only a passing farewell as the blonde tried to call goodbye over her shoulder. Leo did not call out in reply. There were too many people and the air too filled with calls of horror and fear for him to be heard anyway. Instead, he placed a closed fist to his chest and bowed as she was whisked away. A gesture of respect. And of goodbye.
As soon a she was upright once more, Leonidas turned on his heel and sped back towards the market place. His head was still firmly set upon his duty, hardened by the state of chaos around him and finely tuned to the needs of others over himself. Later, however... Later he suspected he would once more think upon the pretty blonde girl from the spice festival...
