Johanna
Acolyte
The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.
Posts: 26
Profession: Hopelessly Romantic Novelist
Affinity: Light
Profile: Click Here
OoC Alias: Charlie
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Post by Johanna on Dec 28, 2014 22:10:51 GMT -6
It didn’t matter what time of day it was; the Illian trading city of Carrahae was always alive, filled with all manner of people from throughout Elibe, though Bernese were notably absent. Still, the cobblestone paths that weaved through town were full of merchants and travelers alike despite the cold, and the stone buildings that lined the streets all piped smoke out of their chimneys as they looked to warm their homes amidst the cold climate. The snow wasn’t coming down nearly as hard as it had been during the blizzard that had come down from the mountains a week ago. Regardless, there was still a thick precipitation that fell from the sky and persisted in sticking to everyone’s outer clothes while covering the city in a blanket of crisp white snow.
Johanna pulled her fur hood over her head and smiled as she looked out over the path in front of her. It had been over a year since the young woman had left home, and every moment away, seeing sights like this, made her all the happier about finally leaving. It was still strange to think about, considering none of her siblings had been lucky enough to break away as she had; at the same time, they hadn’t gone through seven – or was it eight? – years in a convent, only to be greeted with a betrothal upon her return home.
Shaking her head, the writer walked down the street towards a small tea shop that sat on the corner, just before the main market. While Johanna loved taverns, they weren’t necessarily conducive to writing, as she planned to do for the next few hours. And while she could do that in the small room she was renting in one of the local inns, it was much more inspiring to being out in the thick of it, breathing in the air stained with a multitude of fragrances whilst surrounded by vibrant colors draping the windows and a crackling fire in the background. Words came to her easier that way, and Hanne Clark was definitely overdue for the next installment in his tragic yet romantic war serial. Two portions had already been distributed, but according to Hank, his publisher was clawing for the next part of the story, and of course, Johanna would oblige.
A bell ringing as she opened the door, Johanna smiled as she saw the familiar old shopkeeper’s face. The woman, Gams as everyone called her, was wrinkled beyond recognition, but always had a bright smile on her thin lips. Her gray hair was tied back in a tight bun at the top of her head, and no matter if she was inside or out, she always donned the same dark burgundy housecoat with a light fur lining over whatever dress she had decided to wear. Gams always waved with her left hand, and it was always to welcome her visitors in from the cold.
“Oh, Ona, welcome back!” Gams exclaimed as Johanna returned the woman’s smile. The writer had been in the shop a few times now and had talked with Gams for hours on end, and for some reason the elder had taken to calling her “Ona”. Johanna had started coming here just before beginning to write Hanne’s current serial, and she had written the first two books in this very shop since it always seemed to be empty. It only seemed fitting to write the third installment here as well.
“I hope you’re keeping warm, Gams,” Johanna replied, rubbing her hands together before moving to quickly unlace her boots. Gams didn’t allow anyone to wear shoes in the shop, especially when it was snowing.
“As long as I have my coat, dear,” she cooed, patting the burgundy housecoat she donned, “I’ll be just fine. I’ll get you a cup of green tea.”
Before the old woman could scurry off, Johanna looked up, hands still fumbling with her boots. “Ah, Gams, make it a pot please? I’ll be here for a while.”
Stopping mid turn, she looked back with a smile shaping her wrinkled. “Writing to your dear brother again? Oh, you two share the longest letters I’ve ever seen.” And with that, she scurried off to let Johanna seat herself in the same cozy corner by the fire as usual, to settle in and begin writing away.
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Synkkis Kyyneltya
Shaman
"Strange... I had no brace for the aberrant nature of this power."
Posts: 170
Profession: Mercenary Tactician
Affinity: Dark
Profile: Synkkis
OoC Alias: Cyril/Lucien/Landrik/Freya
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Post by Synkkis Kyyneltya on Dec 31, 2014 4:59:24 GMT -6
The weather had been temperate enough for good travel, and the Ilian had errands to run. He could have held off of these and went about pulling together what he needed in the wild, but he wanted a change of pace. Even so, he had all these worthless metal disks weighing him down. The snow-haired man was familiar enough with the city plenty of travelers made their way through, but since so much trade went on, it seemed that things changed with every visit.
Seeing a familiar store window and the wooden sign above it, it was the right place to stop and get his bearings. He already had too many people around him and it made him nervous. It was time to let things simmer down. Pulling on the old brass handle, the jaded young man slung his rucksack off his shoulders and laid it down on top of a table. He also pulled off his tattered and faded cloak, which he hung from a wooden stand next to the entrance.
The odd looking hermit had entered the small shop without noticing anyone there. He stood next to the wooden counter that separated the common area from the rear of the store. Patiently he waited for whomever would come to receive him. Synkkis looked down at the counter and noticed a couple small baskets of assorted teas, most of which he had never heard of. Brushing his hair back, he sniffed one of the packets in curiosity.
Checking the room around him he finally locked his eyes on a very intriguing looking woman. Most of the time he would very shyly look away, but there was something about her that had him studying her. She looked very serene. He admired such tranquility. He was tempted to say something, anything, but decided against it. The old woman who owned the shop arriving made for a good excuse.
"Howdy, ma'am? I'd like to buy some nirnroot and blisterwort. If you have any of those blue flowers that grow on the other side of the range from here, I'd like a handful of those as well." Synkkis spoke, trying to shove everything else out of his mind.
The old woman, albeit friendly, was quick and professional in how she quickly brought his items together and rung up the charge. It wasn't much, not that it mattered to the Shaman as long as he had enough of the coins. A quick word of thanks was given as well before he made himself comfortable at the table he had set his rucksack down on.
He went ahead with pulling out a mortar and pestle as well as his canteen. Curiously, he had some small bottled vials in which he sat on the table. He had looked up once more to glance at the woman who was writing. He preferred there not being many people here. Otherwise he would've done this under the bridge as he thought to himself.
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Johanna
Acolyte
The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.
Posts: 26
Profession: Hopelessly Romantic Novelist
Affinity: Light
Profile: Click Here
OoC Alias: Charlie
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Post by Johanna on Dec 31, 2014 23:43:07 GMT -6
A precarious love... no, a parlous affection, held together only by the throes of war? Johanna scribbled with her crude graphite pencil as she attempted to construct the climactic argument between the protagonist and his lover, which would be the ending for this particular issue of the serial. She still had some details to work out in the middle, but she always had to write the scenes between couples and lovers first as, well, they were the most foreign to her. She didn’t like leaving the hardest parts for last.
A familiar bell ringing called Johanna’s attention towards the door, where another patron had entered and began taking off his cloak. Since arriving a few hours ago, a handful of people had come in and out of the shop, though they were largely regular patrons who frequented the shop on a daily basis. They came in, ordered their cup of tea or assorted herbs and plants, and then went on their way.
This man, however, was not one of those regulars, as far as Johanna could tell. He was taller than anyone she’d seen so far in town, and his hair was unique, to say the least. His manner of dress wasn’t too out of the ordinary, save for the purple color of his cloak and what looked like a necklace of bones. She’d never seen anyone who looked quite like him before, and she was fascinated. What was the significance of his necklace? Why not get rid of his tattered cloak – was he a sentimental man? And what brought him here today?
As the man perused the counter, Johanna realized that her hand had stopped moving over the tattered journal on the small table in front of her. She had been staring, something she did too often she realized, so she quickly averted her gaze back to the journal in front of her. But as she tried to will her hand to continue telling the lover’s tale, she’d lost the interest in writing it for now. Johanna was a woman who searched for new tales to tell, and it appeared one had just walked into the shop.
As she heard the man speak, Johanna snuck another glance at him while taking a sip of tea from her cup. She’d just begun her second pot a little while ago, so her lips were greeted with the warm grassy taste she loved as she overheard his order. He asked Gams for herbs Johanna had heard of before, but she was no doctor or herbalist. While the convent she lived in strongly believed in herbal cures as opposed to frivolously using light magic, Johanna couldn’t remember much about what they’d taught her. The woman might have had a great memory, but it was highly selective.
Gams was always fast when she packaged herbs, so it was only a few moments before the white-haired man took a seat with his new wares. Johanna looked down to the journal in front of her, pencil posed over the parchment in one hand and her cup of tea in the other, still finding it impossible to keep her hand moving. THe woman noticed out of the corner of her eye that the man began taking some items from his pack. In fact, it appeared he was taking straight to preparing the herbs he had just purchased. She supposed here was as good a place as any to mix his… well, what was it he was mixing? Despite her hobbies being those attributed to more introverted folk, Johanna was anything but the type to shy away at a chance to ask questions about something she wanted to know. She liked meeting new people, and it seemed this was an opportunity to do just that.
Shutting her small journal, Johanna placed her hand over the cover, pencil still in hand as she looked back over to the man. The shop was incredibly small, so even though a table separated them, the man was less than ten feet away from her. “If you don’t mind me asking,” she politely interjected, hand motioning to him grinding with his mortar and pestle, “what is that you’re preparing?”
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Synkkis Kyyneltya
Shaman
"Strange... I had no brace for the aberrant nature of this power."
Posts: 170
Profession: Mercenary Tactician
Affinity: Dark
Profile: Synkkis
OoC Alias: Cyril/Lucien/Landrik/Freya
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Post by Synkkis Kyyneltya on Jan 2, 2015 3:28:59 GMT -6
Sighing deeply, the now alchemist pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and began staring at it studiously. Mixed expressions of being puzzled and small bouts of frustration cross his face. He had already ground one of his ingredients up, but even as a strategist, he couldn't pull together a plan.
He could ask around for help, but that'd mean he was imposing on someone. They had important things to take care of, after all. No use getting in the way.
Perhaps the Shaman would do some experimenting with processes that made sense and test the outcomes? Well, not only was it risky, buy he'd be wasting the discs that those people wanted. He didn't have too many to be wasting.
The woman breaking her silence was a wave of both embarrassment and relief. Replying with a blushing face, he set the instruments down and pucked up the flower. "Ah, actually, I'm trying to make some healing powder for a vulnerary. I've never tried it before, though. In my family, my father always did it behind closed doors as a means of having alone time." the Shaman explained, looking the woman in her eyes. He could tell she seemed rather mature, possibly older than him?
Why did he tell her so much? Why was he holding the flower in his hand? Placing the flower on the table, he averted his eyes to his bowl of ingredients. Blushing even further in possibly making a fool of himself, he felt just as crushed as the blisterwort in the bowl.
"Er, nevermind me. I'm just a novice." he said. Why did he say that!? He really aught to keep his mouth shut. It wasn't doing him any good.
He looked back to his paper again, trying to piece together the rather incomplete instructions given to him by a Nabatan woman. Perhaps there was something lost in translation. He was tempted to pack up and just leave whenever she paid him no mind, but giving her a quick glance, he saw that she was still looking at him. Synkkis never got this much attention unless he was being targeted by archers.
Looking away once more, he took his canteen and took a swig. Better? Not really. Still, it kept his mind busy. The hermit wasn't used to anyone attractive to paying him any mind.
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Johanna
Acolyte
The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.
Posts: 26
Profession: Hopelessly Romantic Novelist
Affinity: Light
Profile: Click Here
OoC Alias: Charlie
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Post by Johanna on Jan 6, 2015 14:32:24 GMT -6
It didn’t appear the young man expected Johanna to breach the quiet air, especially seeing as his cheeks were alight with color as he turned to reply. A vulnerary, hmm. Johanna wracked her memory, trying to remember what little she’d likely retained from her lessons on herbs and holistic remedies, but it was expectedly for naught. She hadn’t seen a reason to
“Well that’s no way to get better, is it?” Johanna frowned, brow furrowing after the man degraded himself before taking a sip from his canteen. Her own things set out on the table in front of her, Johanna slid herself over to the chair next to his, an effort to get closer to the man in purple and his things. She didn’t like seeing people talk about themselves in such a negative way, considering it was how some of her own siblings had justified pursuing Father’s dreams for them instead of their own.
Now next to him, Johanna looked over what was on his table, now more clearly seeing the small vials, bits of herbs he’d just purchased from Gams, and what looked to be a piece of paper with something written on it. The brown-haired woman had half a mind to call out for Gams and have her take a look, but if the white-haired man hadn’t asked for help already, it was likely because he wanted to try and complete this himself. Whether it was out of stubbornness or shyness, Johanna could only guess. Johanna was no stranger to banging your head against something until it worked. The man hadn’t really had enough time to do that (unless he’d tried this already), but Johanna was in a particularly helpful - or nosy depending on the man’s interpretation of her actions - mood.
So Johanna assumed the paper contained instructions of some sort and pointed it out, even though it was clear the man knew it was there. “Are those instructions there? There must be something you can pull from those, no? Unless that's all they told you to do.”
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Synkkis Kyyneltya
Shaman
"Strange... I had no brace for the aberrant nature of this power."
Posts: 170
Profession: Mercenary Tactician
Affinity: Dark
Profile: Synkkis
OoC Alias: Cyril/Lucien/Landrik/Freya
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Post by Synkkis Kyyneltya on Jan 9, 2015 23:45:51 GMT -6
The woman was quick to take his typical jab he took to himself in a bad way. This is why he didn't talk to people, right? Must be. Good reminder. Perhaps she knew too many people that were absolutely defeated to keep their nose deep in their own wallowing. Synkkis knew he had potential, but he just needed the know-how. There was nothing he disliked more than not knowing what he was talking about.
"I suppose I'll just try and mix up different combinations in small porti-" Synkkis replied, then being surprised as she brought her chair over near to him. This was getting a bit much for him, but he tried to remain calm and collected. The woman now being closer, he could smell her light scent and he figured she could do the same. Trying to not lose his nerve, he also pushed that away from his mind. Time to focus on the moment. Vulnerary. Yes. He had to make the healing powder whether the world around him took notice or not.
The woman, now having got a good look at his assorted materials, pointed out his chicken-scratch note. He was already looking at it, hearing her make all of the right assumptions. He picked up the note and straightened it out to rid it of its crumpled appearance. He then showed her the list closer up so she could properly read it. "Yes, actually. The note is incomplete, mainly due to the lack of detail I was given when I bought those vials for the mixing agents." Synkkis said calmly, the note passed to her and his hands already on the vials of assorted colors and simple labels. "I reckon something was lost in translation and I never took the time to check. Simple mistake." he chuckled, laughing off his embarrassment.
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Johanna
Acolyte
The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.
Posts: 26
Profession: Hopelessly Romantic Novelist
Affinity: Light
Profile: Click Here
OoC Alias: Charlie
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Post by Johanna on Jan 14, 2015 12:38:08 GMT -6
As the young man held the list up for her to read, Johanna squinted, leaning in even closer so she could make out the handwriting. Well, at least everything he had on the table was what the list of medical ingredients called for (he’d likely need some sort of oil or beeswax to make it easier to apply), but the instructions were little more than “put in a bowl, grind, and go.” Not very helpful considering the measurements in the note were muddled and personalized. Palmfuls and pinches might have meant something to the person who gave the man the instructions, but for them it didn’t do much good.
“Hmmm….” Johanna looked up from the note, trying to construe how everything might go together. “Well, you weren’t kidding. Those notes are harder to understand than a Sacaen tribesman yelling from downriver.” A rather specific simile, she thought in restrospect, but it was one she was amusingly familiar with.
Johanna wouldn’t be able to help with the actual alchemical combinations, no more versed in which herb would ease what pain than the next person, but she could at least offer the man her comprehension of the note. Depending on who gave him the instructions, Johanna figured she might even be able to help measure everything out as well. She’d seen plenty of poorly written manuscripts and instructions in her years as a scribe, so she was quite familiar with having to interpret what they were trying to say instead of what they actually said.
Eyes glancing back down at the held out note, Johanna’s eyes glided over the measurements, a few more questions coming to mind that she thought might help them get closer to figuring the vague instructions out. “Who was it that told you what to do? And they made sure the components here would do what you needed them to?"
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Synkkis Kyyneltya
Shaman
"Strange... I had no brace for the aberrant nature of this power."
Posts: 170
Profession: Mercenary Tactician
Affinity: Dark
Profile: Synkkis
OoC Alias: Cyril/Lucien/Landrik/Freya
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Post by Synkkis Kyyneltya on Jan 16, 2015 20:05:19 GMT -6
The snow-haired man returned the list to his own eyes to skim over the contents as he had wracked his brain over ten times before, seeing if there was something he must had been missing. There was perhaps a trick of words, or a gesture in the print; maybe even a word misspelled. He set the notes down again in front of her as she studied them further just as he had.
The woman was right on point with her observation, Synkkis unable to contain his laughter as he had plenty of his own experiences with the Sacaens, mostly from his travel through the country. They were a curious people, mostly wanting to be left alone - a sentiment he could certainly agree with. Being nomadic and agrarian, it was simple and easy for them to develop their own traits beyond what the rest of Elibe was doing. It was a good trick to their relative state of peace during this terrifying crisis of the times. "Hahaha... and that's saying something!" Synkkis remarked, no longer feeling any sort of tension and in a much more friendlier and livelier mood.
With the questions asked, he shuffled his vials and ingredients around on the table, looking at them once more in detail. Letting out a sigh, he shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "Well, I'm supposed to have everything here. It was an old woman in Skyyriad down the road. She was apparently reputable for her quality agents. I just can't figure out the measurements as you so well said earlier." he stated. Synkkis bit his lip in a bit of frustration, but he was a bit more interested in what her conclusion would be if she could produce one.
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Johanna
Acolyte
The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.
Posts: 26
Profession: Hopelessly Romantic Novelist
Affinity: Light
Profile: Click Here
OoC Alias: Charlie
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Post by Johanna on Jan 21, 2015 12:24:02 GMT -6
Johanna trusted that the man had been correctly informed and had everything he needed, unfortunately, if he didn’t that could have only been rectified when the notes were received. They seemed right to the best of Johanna’s knowledge, though, so it was easiest to work off of that assumption. Johanna was pleased to hear that the person he had received the instructions from was a woman, since it mean they could likely follow the instructions within a few points of error. The vulnerary would still work all the same, but it would be just a bit less effective than usual. Their other option would be to ask Gams, but the old woman had vanished from the floor.
“Let me see your hand for a second,” Johanna said, holding her hand up. Instead of waiting for the white-haired man to respond, though, the scribe lifted his hand to hers, cocking her head to the side and closing one eye as she lined their fingers up. Again she was pleased to see that, as she thought, her hand was much smaller than his, the tips of her fingers resting right above the first knuckle-lines on his digits. Considering the measurements were written by an older woman and used a lot of shorthand and personalization, it wouldn’t make much sense to a man whose physique didn’t match the writer’s.
“Wow, your hands are huge!” The brunette chuckled as she lowered her hand from his. “Well, we can fix this. If you tell me which ingredients are which, I can help you with the right measurements at the least. My hands are probably pretty close in size to that old woman’s, and I’m familiar with the shorthand. If there’s something special you need to do when combining past what’s written here, though, you may want to ask Gams when she gets back.”
“Oh, and we can re-write the instructions when we’re done,” Johanna added, a smile still curling the corners of her mouth. “That way you've got them for the future.”
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Synkkis Kyyneltya
Shaman
"Strange... I had no brace for the aberrant nature of this power."
Posts: 170
Profession: Mercenary Tactician
Affinity: Dark
Profile: Synkkis
OoC Alias: Cyril/Lucien/Landrik/Freya
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Post by Synkkis Kyyneltya on Jan 22, 2015 23:30:07 GMT -6
Seeing the oddly charismatic woman try and think through the situation once more was something he couldn't look away from. She was very attractive and now that she wasn't laying the pressure on him in that moment, it gave him a little time to reflect. Not too much time, mind, as she took his hand as he was trying to mentally comprehend what she just asked. Giving a surprised expression, he looked at how his hand lined up to hers, at her, and then back to their hands. It seemed the natural thing to do to curl his fingers over hers. Realizing what he had done, he straightened out his palm once more and blushed. How forward of him! Was he over-thinking things again? Most likely.
In his flustered state, he held his hand out in front of him looking at where her hands compared to his. When was the last time he was really honestly touched in such a way? It wasn't brushing past someone or being grabbed and moved over... his heart beat rather quickly and it ached. This wasn't a pleasant feeling, but it did make him want more. A feeling he would have to suppress. He didn't even know the woman's name... agh, nevermind! Such thoughts were nothing but trouble. The woman was speaking to him, but it was only by context that he was able to put together what she had stated.
"Oh! W-Well... Uhm... Yes." Synkkis said, trying to screw his head back on straight. A few heavy blinking of his eyes and a deep breath was able to bring him back into the moment. "I mean, I do know which ones are which. The ingredient in the bowl is Blisterwort. That much I was able to understand. The leafy plant is Nirnroot and the blue flowers, well, I'm not sure what they're called. Neither did the woman." Synkkis said, handling the long stem with the series of small flowering buds that trailed it. "Do you know what it is?" he asked, handing her the vibrant flower.
Paying it no mind for a moment, he lined up the vials so their labels could be seen clearly by the woman. From left to right were, "Spring Water" "Essence of Lavender" "Alcohol" "Great Northern Honey"
Thinking on it, he appreciated her doing this for him. Such kindness warranted him to know more. "Oh, I'm Synkkis by the way. Are you from Ilia? You seem a little different compared to most other Ilians I know." he commented. "That's a good thing, by the way." the snow-haired man chortled gleefully.
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Johanna
Acolyte
The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.
Posts: 26
Profession: Hopelessly Romantic Novelist
Affinity: Light
Profile: Click Here
OoC Alias: Charlie
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Post by Johanna on Jan 23, 2015 18:40:18 GMT -6
Johanna had noticed the man’s fingers curling down a bit over hers when their hands touched, but all it had elicited from the woman was a giggle as she remarked on the size of his hands. Even though she was in her mid-twenties, the only experience she’d really had when it came to ‘intimacy’ was the romances she wrote in her books or what she saw from her mother and father – so not much at all. Sure, she’d liked boys when she was younger, but she had never had the chance to act on anything. A letter her publisher had received for Hanne said that Hanne’s view of romance was “innocent, naïve, and perfunctory.” While she’d argue the last point as she disagreed with the person’s word choice, Johanna supposed that was the easiest way to describe how she approached romance too.
Only after babbling off her conclusion on how to solve her new friend’s dilemma did she notice that his cheeks looked flushed as he stumbled over his words to respond. Oh, she’d gone on too long, hadn’t she? She had a habit of just rambling happily on when she found what she believed was the answer to a question, to the point of being a bit oblivious to whomever she was speaking to. Well, the man didn’t seem to mind as he moved around some of the ingredients on the table and asked her what the blue flower was. Holding the stem between three fingers, Johanna mused as to what the flowers could be. It was funny, actually, because somehow, despite not knowing the majority of the ingredients and how they applied, she actually knew what this flower was.
Before she could comment on the flower, though, the man laughed and introduced himself, asking where she was from. They hadn’t exchanged names yet, had they? “I’m Johanna,” she giggled in reply, her cheeks growing a bit warm at the man’s compliment, “and yes, I’m from here, a little north of Edessa,” she admitted, though she’d leave it at that. There wasn’t too much north of Edessa, but there were some small villages that she usually feigned being from. It was easier than explaining her true family situation.
Johanna was at a loss of what to say in regards to being ‘different’ from other Ilians, though. She knew very well what made her so different from her family, but from other Ilians? It was hard to say, considering she always ended up in these sorts of situations. She’d be in some tavern, tea shop, or market and find someone interesting she wanted to talk to. Either they would amuse her for a few minutes before leaving, or they would just tell her they were too busy to talk to her. Actually, thinking about it now, it made a lot of sense why she was different. Since leaving home or going to the convent, the only person who’d actually approached her to speak besides her family had been Mother Superior at the convent. Johanna always started a conversation, but it was because she wanted to learn about other people! Was that really so bad?
“Well I don’t think I’m that different, but I suppose I like chatting with strangers more than your average, aloof northman,” she joked. “I just like talking to people who look interesting,” she concluded, gaze shifting to her hands as she turned over the blue flowers. “Not that you only look interesting,” she blurted out, eyes snapping back to his as she realized she might have implied he was only superficially interesting. “I mean, I bet you’ve got lots of great stories and you’ve got all this here, but we just met so I don't know you that well and, ah, um…”
Her face was growing hot again, and she couldn’t tell where she was going, so Johanna abruptly held up the blue flowers. “Blue lobelia!” Johanna exclaimed. Damn, she’d been doing so well talking with Synkkis, but she was quickly snowballing the conversation downhill. “Ah, the flowers, I mean. They help you sweat out even the worst fevers, if I remember correctly, and they have other benefits too.” Johanna had learned that bit of information from one of the sisters in the convent, who had been tasked with drawing a handful of entries for a herbalist encyclopedia the convent used. But that was the last thing on her mind, considering the man probably thought her a downright fool now. Man, maybe it wasn’t just Ilians being unsociable that kept them from talking to her.
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Synkkis Kyyneltya
Shaman
"Strange... I had no brace for the aberrant nature of this power."
Posts: 170
Profession: Mercenary Tactician
Affinity: Dark
Profile: Synkkis
OoC Alias: Cyril/Lucien/Landrik/Freya
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Post by Synkkis Kyyneltya on Feb 4, 2015 23:55:28 GMT -6
All of this female attention had a strange effect on Synkkis. It was nice, but it also started making him cloudy-minded as she started listing off these words such as "interesting" that were not meant in a condescending way. He could feel such warm feeling pouring over him as it happened and it made him silently look on in wonder. He had to break away from such things. He was afraid of her touching him again. It'd probably turn him into a helpless ball of fuzzy feelings and butterflies. By the Gods, this was not what he was expecting when he walked into this store. He listened on in silence as she retorted his observation and then started complimenting him. In a way he was glad she caught herself in her rambling. Even if he wanted her to continue.
Standing up, he walked to the opposite side of the table and rested his hands on the surface, leaning against it. He felt his heart beating wildly, the details of his vulnerary in progress being almost lost as he looked up and looked into the woman's eyes. She was strikingly beautiful in his mind. Some sort of quality about her jumped out at him and made him feel at home. He had his eyes locked with hers, as he felt she could see everything about him. What he hid from the world and all of his boyish qualities. He didn't feel like a tactician who drew blood, crushed ribs, and ended a few men's lives. Synkkis felt like he'd been roaming around on some sort of playground, not really learning anything. This rush of feelings poured straight into his soul. These waves crashing against his sanity screaming, "inexperience" cried out to him. Inadequate.
The snow-haired man had to avert his eyes as he thought back of home, family, and what he was really doing with his life. He looked out of the store window, allowing an awkward silence fall upon the open room. The sound of the fire crackled, and the glass was extremely cold to the touch. He just needed a moment.
A deep breath was taken that fogged up the glass. Kyyneltya felt tears welling up in his eyes, which he wiped away immediately. He wrote runes on the foggy glass - a cryptic message of comforting words that only he would know. It helped.
"Oh, ah, I'm sorry. I think an ash flew into my eye. It's better now." he tried to comfort her as she laid everything out on the table for him. Geez, he knew exactly how that felt. "Well, if it's any consolation for you, I can't peel my eyes off of you. I've got dead animal parts on me and I have too much make-up on. You are the truly interesting one." Synkkis laughed, sitting back down next to her. He prodded her with his elbow, going again to clear his eyes. He reached for her hand and opened it up. Using his other free hand he picked up the flower and smelled it, still clasping onto her palm.
"What was this called again? It sounds like it's just what I needed for this."
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Johanna
Acolyte
The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.
Posts: 26
Profession: Hopelessly Romantic Novelist
Affinity: Light
Profile: Click Here
OoC Alias: Charlie
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Post by Johanna on Feb 6, 2015 18:23:48 GMT -6
Johanna almost jumped as Synkkis stood, circling around the table before resting his hands on its chipped surface and leaning forward, but instead she just leaned her head slightly to the left. She wanted to say something else - something like, ‘sorry for the outburst, but I’m kind of horrible at conversation unless I’m writing it after being stuck in a convent for a third of my life’ - but she didn’t feel right breaking the silence, which became more pregnant and ungainly with every passing second. Instead, her eyes remained firmly locked with his as she observed, trying to interpret what might be racing through his mind. And if there was one thing Johanna could tell, it was that the man’s mind was alive with thought - but with what, she didn’t know.
Guessing was always an option, and seeing as neither of them were speaking yet, Johanna hazarded a few. Like most Ilians, he could be wondering how he got stuck listening to the babbling of this crazy woman who just approached him in a tea shop. Maybe she’d said something the wrong way - oh, it was the ‘interesting thing,’ wasn’t it? - or maybe this was how he communicated when he was frustrated. That might be a comedic character, actually, Johanna thought, someone who communicated purely through body language. like sign language, but more inferences. Hmm...
The silver-haired nomad looked away again, snapping Johanna away from her internal aside. No, this was something else, almost as if the man had been overwhelmed by her. Again, not an uncommon reaction, but this was different than a frustration. As he turned towards the window, he traced something into the fog on the glass pane, something Johanna couldn’t really see past the man’s shoulder. She wanted desperately to jump up and peek around the tall man, but succumbing to her curiosity in times like this was not very kind to someone who was clearly deep in thought.
What she did catch, though, was the brief glimpse of what looked like a wet shine just below the man’s eyes. She barely saw it, though the way he’d wiped his eyes was enough to finally spur audible words from her.
“Hey, you okay?” Had her incompetence in conversation brought the man to tears? She bit her lip, wanting to curse herself. She was a confident person, sure, but she hated disappointing or upsetting someone she genuinely liked. And even if they’d only met today, Johanna had determined she liked Synkkis, so her potentially having upset him nearly made her tear up out of frustration. Damn, damn, damn!
But surprisingly, he didn’t act like she’d hurt him. No, instead he joked and complimented her back, reclaiming his seat next to her and giving her a little nudge with his elbow. Johanna smiled, chuckling as he devalued his allure in favor of her. “I don’t know Synk, I bet plenty of women swoon at the sight of bone necklaces and face paint.”
Maybe Johanna had been ignorant of the man’s curled fingers before, but she certainly noticed when his hand remained grasped around her palm as he examined the flower that had been residing there. This time she was the one who instinctively curled her hand over his, though a blush instantly filled her cheeks. You know, when she thought about it, she hadn’t garnered this type of male attention since she she was a teenager. She sighed.
Oh, he’d asked about the flower again, hadn’t he? “Oh, blue lobelia. Some people also call it… Sacaen Tobacco, since they said it could cure the worst of tobacco habits. But they used it for a lot of other things too; it's basically a panacea for a lot of more naturalistic Sacaen tribes,” she paused, trying to remember everything the sister had told her about the plant. “But only when you don't use too much. So, be careful," Johanna warned.
Trying to ignore the moisture forming on her palm, Johanna looked over the ingredients neatly laid out on the table again. “So why are you trying to make a vulnerary anyways? Is someone you know sick, or do you sell them?” She was still insanely curious about who the man was. She had a billion questions that bounded through her mind - why did he wear the trappings he did, why did he have face paint on, why was his name so interesting, what did he do for a living - but she didn’t want to overwhelm the man again. Besides, pacing a conversation was something she needed to practice.
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Synkkis Kyyneltya
Shaman
"Strange... I had no brace for the aberrant nature of this power."
Posts: 170
Profession: Mercenary Tactician
Affinity: Dark
Profile: Synkkis
OoC Alias: Cyril/Lucien/Landrik/Freya
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Post by Synkkis Kyyneltya on Feb 6, 2015 20:18:41 GMT -6
The young man giggled about the woman's overly silly comment. If anything, these sorts of things pushed people away with reason. He spied an eye towards his purple cloak adorned with the pelt and skull and tried to think of it being a bit of eye candy. He just couldn't imagine it. The slight silence was broken by the woman's sigh. He could feel her heartbeat pulse through her palm and on his. What a strange sensation. Perhaps if he didn't do anything, she wouldn't take too much notice of such an action.
She had started back on the topic of the flower and this time his mind was clear to understand what she said. Even he forgot about their joined hands. Such a flower was incredibly useful, yet because it grew so densely in certain areas, there was no reason to plant and harvest it. Where he lived, it was nowhere near him to make the ingredient to what they really needed to make too much importance. Putting all of the ingredients together saved him a bit of metal disks and it was a learning experience. Whether he wanted it or not, this experience he could not possibly forget now.
"Ah, thank you. Where I'm from, we don't have these... "Blue I-O-Belia" grow wild like they do here. The peaks are too steep and the soil isn't deep enough. They'd freeze right out of their roots if we were to plant them there." the inexperienced Alchemist explained, his mind set on the peaks of his home.
The strange Ilian let go of the woman's hand and leaned back in his chair, resting his chin on the crook of his thumb and forefinger. He scratched his chin as he felt the stubble of the afternoon starting to set in. He looked at the flower, studying the inner petals - knowing he had to ruin such beautiful piece of nature to have it fulfill his purposes. There was no way to have his cake and eat it. "Well, it's extremely useful to carry when off the beaten trail. Who knows when I wake up tomorrow and I'm attacked by either a snake-woman or someone as flattering as yourself?"
He leaned forward and rubbed the back of his neck, placing the flower back on the table once more with the rest of the ingredients. Synkkis could tell that Johanna was almost bursting with her inquisitive eyes. As he didn't let too much on, it was not too hard for him to tell she wanted to know more. "So, it's not every day you run into someone who has a Red Elk buddy mounted on his cape, right?" he joked, shifting his seat to turn towards her. "...or are you wondering something else?"
He knew he'd regularly just grab his ingredients and head to the next shop or even the next town, but he was having too much fun to simply let himself escape just yet.
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Johanna
Acolyte
The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.
Posts: 26
Profession: Hopelessly Romantic Novelist
Affinity: Light
Profile: Click Here
OoC Alias: Charlie
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Post by Johanna on Feb 11, 2015 13:04:40 GMT -6
Johanna smiled as Synkkis thanked her, though as he continued she wondered how she might explain away her knowledge of the beautiful blue flower. She never cared much for telling people about how she’d been in a convent for so many years, as after that they usually asked when she’d be going back or assumed she was still a cloistered nun. Not that being a nun was an inherently bad thing, but it always changed the way people interacted with her, even when she clarified that she wasn’t technically ever a full-fledged nun.
Luckily, though, by the time he’d finished Johanna had been smart enough to ask a new question instead of continuing the ‘here’s how I know what I know even if it’s probably as weird as why you look the way you do’ train of thought. The brunette nearly frowned as the man’s hand left hers, leaving the pale skin somehow feeling colder than before. She’d almost forgotten their hands had been touching until then, though as soon as it had she wished she could slip her fingers back in between his. At the same time, she desperately wanted to grab her notebook and detail exactly how this felt, the sensation one she hadn’t been privy to before but might just help her write a scene that could stick it to that hack of a reviewer.
But Johanna stayed put, and she couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of someone like her attacking the tall, lean man in front of her. She avoided fighting like the plague anyways, but it was entertaining to picture; she wondered, if her father had chosen differently, if she could have been shaped into a warrior. She could hardly fathom it; she was ever the diligent observer, but never the one to take action so life-changing as to risk someone else’s chance to live.
What a man she sat in front of, that her mind was so wound up in twists and turns! She could have burst out with a cry of joy when Synkkis opened himself up to her questions. Oh, she was always so terrible at hiding her eagerness to get to know someone, but thank Gaea that it seemed Synkkis didn’t care! She rapped her fingers on the table as she mulled over what question she wanted to pose, what parcel of knowledge she wanted to learn, until she finally decided what she really wanted to know.
“Well,” Johanna started, her words slow as she thought of the best way to phrase her question, “a lot of things, honestly. Like you said, someone like you isn’t a common sight.” She paused; she wanted to clarify yet again that she meant that as a positive thing, but they’d already gone down that line of reasoning, so she painfully kept on. “But for starters... What part of Ilia are you from? And since you mentioned it, does everyone from there have such great taste in shoulder ornaments?” He’d mentioned being from the mountains, so she was curious which range he’d been from, and how his family could have even made a living there.
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