Rilcha Winters
Novice
"You can't beat the princess of beets. It's like beating a puppy, you just come away feeling awful."
Posts: 36
Profession: Richter's Fan Club President
Affiliation: FanClubAnon LLC
Affinity: Light
Profile: Rilcha
OoC Alias: Mel
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Post by Rilcha Winters on Apr 5, 2015 1:13:40 GMT -6
Rilcha eased open the door with his elbow, rather nervous for the task ahead of him even though he had little reason to be so. It wasn't that the man whose bandages he was to change was someone troublesome to deal with, he certainly had not made himself see that way when the pretty medic woman Meave had changed his bandages the day prior whilst he stood and watched. There were certainly more troublesome ones, loud ones, ones who screamed, and worst of all the ones who stared blankly into space in acceptance of their inevitable fate. Those were the ones who frightened him the most, their eyes were hollow, as if life itself had been sucked from their souls, leaving a void that grew until it consumed them in their inevitable death. They rarely recovered. This patient though made him nervous for other reasons, the terrifying Winter Lion himself with a gaze so sharp that he swore that he could feel it grazing his cheek whilst he made small talk with Meave.
"Hullo..." the teen called into the room to announce himself and not startle the man if he had been sleeping, honestly he was quite certain that the way that he would perish was that one of the paranoid swordsmen would lop off his head if he startled them. Every effort was taken to be sure that it was not even an option, but Rilcha was hardly one known for his stealth. It was quiet easy to hear the shuffling footsteps that were quickly followed by curses and apologies as he stumbled and tripped about over his own feet. It was no wonder village girls had always opted to avoid dancing with him, instead just spending time stroking his hair and feeding him lunch in a field. Women were always so kind...
"I'm here to change the bandag-..."
He took a large step inside and let out a small squeak from the back of his throat as one of the bandages he had piled awkwardly under his arm rolled out the door to freedom whilst he glanced crossly at the white trail it left behind. No matter, he'd deal with it in a moment. So once again he tensed up and mustered up the courage to speak.
"Sorry. I'm here to chan-"
The basin he had been holding up on top of his head suddenly became unsteady as he walked and slipped from his grasp, falling onto his foot with quite the clatter and unfortunate splatter of steaming water. Instantly he pulled up his foot, gripping it with both hands as he hissed in pain and hopped about. It hurt! Did his toes shatter? Was his horridly maimed?! It seemed not, the pain dulling to a simple throb rather quickly and his tunnel vision fading to reveal the rest of the bandages strewn about haphazardly in the wet mess that he was met with. His heart leapt from his chest whilst he sucked in a large breath to take it all in without any whimpers of disappointment at what he'd have to clean.
"I'm here to wash the floor."
His voice quivered, fingers trembling as he took hold of the fallen basin and held it under his arm so that the remnants of it's previous inhabitant drained down his leg. "I'll get Meave to change your bandages in a moment." Oh he was disappointed, this was all meant to be helpful for the poor overworked medics but he seemed to have simply made a mess of things in the first place. He didn't even know how to change bandages now that it came to mind, and it was a horridly wrong idea to even offer to assist.
"Sorry..." Rilcha uttered to the bed's inhabitant, carefully crouching down to pick up one of the fallen bandages and drop it in the basin.
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Post by Richter Abend on Apr 8, 2015 19:50:15 GMT -6
Richter was a man of conviction. Everything he did in life he did to the fullest. Whether it be fighting or training or scowling, the Ilian was always determined to perform to the best of his abilities. Sleeping was no exception. As a mercenary and a soldier, the Ilian warrior could sleep through all manner of drunken campfire ruckus, and the repeated chirping of the youth that had entered the room might as well have been polar winds against the walls of Edessa. So when the boy dropped the water basin, resulting in loud clatter as it splashed water all over the floor, Richter was barely roused. His eyes opened about half a centimeter, his eyelids quivered a bit, then he rolled over in the direction of the commotion.
In truth it had taken the pink haired bed occupant a long time to come far enough to even react this much to noise while sleeping. Richter had been such a notoriously dead sleeper in his youth that his mother had actually assumed him dead a couple of times as a young child. But it didn’t take her long to grow accustomed to her son’s annoying habit of rock impersonation, and for a long time her favorite method of waking her slumbering child had been a few swift raps with the broom. There were also the incessant “training” his mercenary company had inflicted upon him when he was younger. Richter had been forced to adapt.
After the gentle head roll there was a good moment where the resting Ilian did not move, and anyone would think he had remained asleep, but suddenly, and without warning, the warrior shot up in bed. His right arm whipped past his chest, as if pulling a dagger out of its sheath, then reached out toward Rilcha. There he sat in bed, his arm outstretched like a sprung trap, or maybe a forgotten sentinel, and it was only after a good bit more silence that the Ilian’s eyes began to open. But even that they did only moderately. His pupils only just showing, Richter’s mouth let out some sort of bizarre utterance.
“Whozair?”
His head shifted left and right as he "spoke", if one could even call it that, but his eyes were so barely open it was hard to believe he was actually awake.
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Post by Guinevere von Altenburg on Apr 19, 2015 14:08:11 GMT -6
Guinevere had finally reached the City of Heroes. It had taken a bit, but she had finally been able to track down where Richter was located. She had wasted some time following some false leads, but that was all in the past now. And the best part was, from what she had been told, Richter was alive. She had started to worry that perhaps her former commander had indeed been killed, but thankfully that rumor was just a rumor. Signs of a great battle were all around the city, which meant that the news Rayl had received about it had been true. As she rode her horse towards the stable she had been pointed toward, her thought wandered to all the lives that would have been lost in a battle of this size. How many of those she had fought with under Richter had stayed with him and fallen in this very spot?
After putting up her horse in the stable, Gwen began to make her way in the direction of the healing house that Richter was supposedly in. She kept her armor on and lance with her, just in case this ended up being some kind of trap. But she had a feeling that this was the real deal. It took a fair amount of walking and several stops to make sure that she was indeed heading in the right direction, but eventually she came upon the place she was looking for.
As she stepping into the healing house, Guinevere realized that her search wasn't over yet. With a sigh, she realized that she had no idea where in the building Richter actually was. Or if he was even conscious. Looking around, she spotted someone who appeared to work there. She walked up to the worker and politely asked if him would be able to tell her where Richter's room was. Sometimes, it really paid off to use her charm to her advantage, and it did here too. The man immediately informed her where Richter's room was, and she set off through the building to find it.
She rounded the corner right before the room she now knew was Richter's when she heard what sounded like a bang. Taking the last few steps quickly, she pushed the door to the room open. With the door open, she was able to take in the scene. A young boy was picking up what seemed to be a basin that was now emptied of water off the floor. That would have been the bang. Richter himself was sitting up in his bed, dagger drawn and pointed at the young man. By the look on his face, paired with his utterance of "Whozair?" Gwen was able to piece together what had probably happened. Trying her best to hold off laughter, she leaned against the door frame and addressed her former commander. "Looks like the Winter Lion was disturbed from his slumber. I was under the impression nothing could wake you."
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Rilcha Winters
Novice
"You can't beat the princess of beets. It's like beating a puppy, you just come away feeling awful."
Posts: 36
Profession: Richter's Fan Club President
Affiliation: FanClubAnon LLC
Affinity: Light
Profile: Rilcha
OoC Alias: Mel
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Post by Rilcha Winters on Apr 19, 2015 17:12:09 GMT -6
The sudden creak of the bed as Richter pitched up and forward caused the Novice's heart leap from his chest with a sharp cry of momentary terror. The basin once again slipped from his limp fingers as he flinched, dropping to a crouch as his arms instinctively jumped up over his face to defend himself from the supposed frontal attack. He was too young to perish at the hands of Richter for irritating him!The teen had hardly meant to be so loud bumbling about his room like an utter fool and making such a racket! If he lived he would as quite as a mouse for the rest of his life! No one would ever be able to tell that he was there because he wou-...
“Whozair?”
The drunken mumbling caused Rilcha to pause his momentary prayers and irrational bargaining, slurring in the man's words reminding him heavily of the way his mother would act after a night of heavy drinking. She would wake slowly, glaring at the world that would dare disturb her amidst slurred curses and squinted fumbling for the water jug. Irritated, but slightly less dangerous on her feet with the world swaying around her.
Cautiously like a rabbit poking it's nose from within it's burrow to test it's surrounds he lowered his arms and gripped the rim of the metal basin, clutching it so tight that his knuckles grew white. Breathing quick sharp breaths he raised the basin to shield his face, ignoring the laughter behind him for the moment to observe the Winter Lion perched at the end of his bed with an arm stiffly outstretched as if he had stabbed through the air itself. The lethargic kitty had no claws, little to fear other than his razor sharp teeth.
"Looks like the Winter Lion was disturbed from his slumber. I was under the impression nothing could wake you."
He glanced over his shoulder at the homely blonde woman who leaned leisurely in the doorway, a bemused expression painting her face. At the thought of someone else having been witness to his numerous fumbles he quickly grew as red as his hair, keeping a tighter grip on the basin as he scrambled about on the floor to hurriedly pick up the fallen and slightly damp bandages. They would work just fine....probably. They were only wet, what harm could a little bit of water do to a man as large as the one sitting up so stiffly in the bed.
"I need to change your bandages...sir?"
His voice raised as he spoke the word, unsure if it was necessary or not when speaking to someone of a higher rank. What would a country boy know about such things? He held the basin in front of himself like a shield, turning away to not meet the man on the bed's gaze.
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Post by Richter Abend on Apr 20, 2015 22:14:53 GMT -6
Richter’s consciousness began to clear as his mind slowly awoke. Vague thoughts of self-defense sticks gave way to questions of who, where, and why? The blurry, patchy darkness of the room solidified into distinct figures standing near the foot of his cot and light . The odd sense of vertigo he was experiencing disappeared as his body realized that it was now sitting up rather than lying in bed. He looked down his arm, extended as it was, then slowly lowered it when he couldn’t answer why it was extended in the first place. He blinked away his sleep with a short yawn which allowed his eyes, previously unfocused and glazed over, enough brainpower to begin attentively scanning the room.
"Looks like the Winter Lion was disturbed from his slumber. I was under the impression nothing could wake you."
Slumber? He sure felt like he had been sleeping. More than usual. His whole body ached. It was like he’d been hit by a falling boulder. Wait, that’s right. He had been taken somewhere after Hargus had been struck down because had begun bleeding out. The Ilian looked down at himself. His shirt, armor, and any other covering had been removed, replaced by bandages, and judging by the way his legs felt, the same was true under his blankets. He motioned his arm across his chest in an attempt to assess what damage he had sustained in the demonic melee, but when he tried to do so his arm failed to respond. It just hung limp at his side. The lack of response was, to put it mildly, distressing, but Richter quickly kept himself from panicking with the completely unfounded assurance that the damage was only temporary. It had to be, right? That’s the reason he was wrapped in bandages and put in this tiny little cot. Otherwise they would have just cut it off.
"I need to change your bandages...sir?"
Richter’s attention was pulled to the small...girl? Or was it a boy? It’s voice was squeaky and it was tiny. Regardless of what it was, it was holding a very large bowl. Change his bandages? Here? With this woman in the room? How long had he been asleep for?
“Have you been the one assigned to my medical care?” the Ilian asked, using his working arm to scratch his chin. The question was direct, if not a touch derisive in tone, but only because he found it amusing that such a small child was to be in charge of taking care of his needs. Surely there was a healer involved.
“And you,” he said, turning to the familiar looking woman standing in the doorway. “You’re in armor. You here to give me some sort of status report on the status of the leftover enemy forces? Or is Kenshin kicking me out of his city and you’re the hired muscle who volunteered to do it? There was a slight chuckle at the latter suggestion, yet Richter remained stonefaced, expecting an answer.
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Post by Guinevere von Altenburg on Apr 23, 2015 14:30:33 GMT -6
Guinevere could tell that her former commander had been through the ringer. It must have been one heck of a battle, for someone like Richter to be hurt so bad. Then again, if he was this hurt, she'd hate to see the other guy. Actually, the other guy was probably dead. She pushed herself off of the door and took a few steps into the room towards Richter. "As far as I know, Kenshin has no plans of kicking you out. And if he did, I doubt he'd only send one soldier to do it. And as much as I know you like a good status report, I don't have one of those for you either." She had to admit it she was having some fun with this. Richter obviously hadn't realized who she was yet, so why not? She admit was a tiny bit hurt he didn't remember her, but it would come to him. The man obviously had a lot on his mind.
She turned around and propped her lance up against the wall before returning to face Richter. "No, instead I was sent to make sure you were still alive. And, assuming that I found you alive, to return to your service for the time being. An old friend of yours has grown concerned for you, but he himself wasn't able to return to your side. So here I am." She took another step closer, looking around the room as she did. "I thought my new armor might have given it away, but it'll chalk that up to you still recovering." She turned back to Richter, a smile growing on her face. "Guinevere the Gorgeous reporting for duty, Commander Richter. Rayl says hi."
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Post by Richter Abend on May 13, 2015 16:38:32 GMT -6
Richter gave Guinevere a blank look. He felt stupid for forgetting one of his soldiers, but he wasn't about to let her know that with some dumb look on his face. He remembered her now. Dutiful woman. Solid fighter. She had been assigned to his unit after the Battle at Ostia, and she had left with Rayl after the battle against Ariston. Those two had gotten pretty close from what Richter remembered, so he didn't hold it against her. It's not like you could go absent without leave if you were part of an army that had shouldn't exist in first place. It was good to know she was still doing well. A big part of Richter would always feel personally responsible for anyone who ever fought under his command, whether they still did so or not.
"So Rayl sent you to keep an eye on me?" asked Richter, raising an eyebrow in the woman's general direction. His face remained stoic and military while he absent-mindledly scratched his bad shoulder. "Figures he wouldn't have the nerve to show up himself after missing a battle like this," he muttered to himself, while giving Guinevere a once over. Her new armor was indeed quite impressive looking, and that oh-so-familiar Rayl shade of blue. It looked good on her, though. Far better than the Inquisitional black and white, or Richter's preferred crimson.
"Well if you're here to join up, then I regret to inform you that I no longer have an army to call my own," the commander continued. He bit his bottom lip as he recalled the men and women he left behind in Bern. Part of him still felt guilty about it, but he knew it was better than dragging them around through the mud on his own personal crusades. He'd caused them enough problems. "The last one was disbanded, from which its soldiers were either dismissed, inducted into the Ilian occupation of Bern, or commissioned into a certain Clair Feldsky's fighting force." Richter shot Guinevere a knowing look. He'd kept tabs on Bern since he left. It seemed that his former Assistant Commander was continuing the fight against the rebels in her own way, on her own terms. Good. She was better suited for that task than he was anyways, and it made him feel better about their fight to know that she wasn't wallowing in self-pity. Clair wasn't that kind of person anyways, but still, it was good to know.
"Any companions I do have from this point are doing so because they have nothing better to do," said Richter, shrugging. It was strange how quickly he could go from leading an army to being just another warrior, but he didn't mind. In fact, he prefered the freedom. "If you do join up with me, then it would be you and me... and maybe Mavick depending on what plans he has for himself." Richter's mouth twisted a bit as he mentioned the diminutive shaman. Mavick would make for an interesting traveling companion. His tactical head was still on his shoulders, but from what Richter had seen, he was starting to go a bit mushy in the head.
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Rilcha Winters
Novice
"You can't beat the princess of beets. It's like beating a puppy, you just come away feeling awful."
Posts: 36
Profession: Richter's Fan Club President
Affiliation: FanClubAnon LLC
Affinity: Light
Profile: Rilcha
OoC Alias: Mel
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Post by Rilcha Winters on May 15, 2015 22:45:46 GMT -6
"Uhh..." Rilcha's shrill voice sliced through their conversation, the boy finally gaining the courage to speak up over them, if only for the moment. Oh if he had the strength of a mountain that basin would surely have been crushed between his fingers with how tightly he was gripping it for protection from the two, though they obviously posed no threat to him. Yet what was a rabbit compared to a lion? Did their quakes of fear cease because of an injury? Either way the two's conversation flew far above his gentle curls, and he made no effort to catch any of it. Any why would he? The kid was promoted to a bandage changing lackey from a mere freeloader, not to a gossiping old woman...yet.
But Meave was counting on him to assist, and he had to...at least get it done, even if he felt like curling up under the bed with the basin over himself as protection. And that started with speaking up a little to make himself known, no matter how terrifying it was.
"I..." he swallowed once and steeled himself, "I...'m not the one assigned, she's a tad busy. Lots of bodies, lots of assigning. But I can change them unless 's infected and I need to call her." The 'I think' that ran through his head was left unsaid, and he was thankful that his nervous motor mouth had neglected to pitch in this time. And, with the first words out, the rest was growing easier to say. "You'll need to relax for...uh...ah. Lyin' down is bad 'cuse I can't get them off or on. So just...stay?..."
The boy's voice wavered slightly as he stepped forward, palms out in front of himself as if he attempting to coax a child instead of a grown man. "It'll only take a bit, shouldn't hurt?" And with that he patted them, slowly starting to work them off with somewhat clumsy but nimble fingers.
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Post by Guinevere von Altenburg on May 18, 2015 12:31:14 GMT -6
Guinevere hid a look of surprise as Richter talked of what had become of his former army. She had known, obviously, that the army had officially been disbanded. However, she had figured some of his troops would have stayed around. What surprised her the most, though, was the fact that Feldsky hadn't stayed. Her and the commander had always been close, close to the point that Gwen had wondered several times if they were a couple or not. Not that it was any of her business, and thus she never asked, but she had wondered. Seemed as if that wasn't the case, anymore at least. Even if they weren't together, she was sure it had been a blow to the commander. Losing his second in command couldn't have been easy.
Gwen took a step back and fell silent for a moment so that the boy could talk. He clearly seemed nervous, so she didn't want to be rude and interrupt him. Once the boy had started to work on Richter's bandages, she began to speak again. "You know Rayl, he would have been here if he could have. As it is, he's caught up with all kinds of stuff down in Lycia. And I was not sent to rejoin an army." She took a few more steps back and picked up her lance. It was the only bit of original equipment she had from when she joined up with Richter. The last of the supplies her parents had bought her way back when. She turned back towards Richter. "I was sent to join you. So if it's just two or three of us, so be it." A smirk grew on her face. "If I have to keep you alive by myself, well, I guess it's a good thing Rayl trained me up a bit."
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Post by Richter Abend on May 24, 2015 11:17:44 GMT -6
Richter turned his attention to the young boy as he interrupted their conversation. The Ilian's first reaction was to bark at him, tell him not to interrupt, but he quickly remembered that he had actually asked the boy a question, so he let him continue speaking. In a very timid manner, the child instructed him to not move, and Richter was all too happy to oblige. His body still hurt all over from the battle, which made moving something done out of necessity, not convenience.
"Just don't scratch any of my wounds," advised Richter, lifting his one good arm so the junior medic had better access to his bandages. "I don't need anything reopened." The Ilian winced slightly as the gauze was pulled from his skin. The tugging on his skin meant that the wounds had been deep enough that his scabs had taken the liberty of affixing themselves to the bandages. That turned what was normally a midly uncomfortable process to into a slightly painful one. But Richter made not a sound. In the grand scheme of things, this was a very small pain, and not something a man of his grit was going to wail about.
The pink-haired Ilian turned his attention back to Guinevere, continuing their conversation. "Well it looks like I'll need a reliable bodyguard," replied the commander, gesturing towards the boy that was currently dressing his wounds, "one who can hold their own in a fight, which it sounds like you can." Richter's voice was cool and business-like, but there was a certain twinkle in his eye. If there was a man in Elibe who thought he could do anything and everything by himself, with his own two hands, it was Richter Abend, but he wasn't about to turn away a perfectly good soldier, or a perfectly willing companion. "It'll also give me a chance to see if Rayl is any good as a teacher."
Richter looked back at his "medic", who was dilligently working on his assigned task. The boy seemed very unsure of himself, but his fingers nimbly made their way around the Ilian's bandages, taking great care not to cause any undue harm. "What's your name, boy?" Richter asked, attempting to seem personable.
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Rilcha Winters
Novice
"You can't beat the princess of beets. It's like beating a puppy, you just come away feeling awful."
Posts: 36
Profession: Richter's Fan Club President
Affiliation: FanClubAnon LLC
Affinity: Light
Profile: Rilcha
OoC Alias: Mel
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Post by Rilcha Winters on May 26, 2015 0:21:04 GMT -6
Rilcha worked through unraveling the bandages gradually, attempting to avoid pulling them at a large angle so that he wouldn't tear more scabs away than necessary. There was the constant fear at the back of his mind that if he caused the man even the slightest bit of unnecessary pain that there would be retaliation, though it was unknown where such thoughts constantly grew from. It wasn't like he had some sort of dramatic childhood filled with nightly beatings and a constant overshadowing fear from it. Skittish was likely the only word to describe it, or paranoid when it came to strangers, the people that he knew well enough to be considered otherwise could be counted off his fingers with room to spare.
The lack of flinching that arose while he tugged away the bandages made the procedure far smoother, for himself that is. His worry gradually began to diminish and his hands grew more steady, a slight confidence growing that momentarily engrossed the lad in his work. By the time that the last strips were carefully removed he could in some ways almost be considered comfortable, the idle conversation that flowed over his head simply calming background noise. And for that it took a few moments to realize that he was being addressed by his patient, recoiling only slightly this time from his gaze.
"Rilcha" he stated after a moment of thought, taking care not to mumble so that he needn't repeat himself and have to converse further. Besides, there was the awkward moment of realization that now that he had gotten the bandages off he had to wrap fresh ones on. A new challenge, but at least he had plenty of somewhat clean, possibly soggy bandages to spare. What was the worst that could happen now? The tense part was over, and anything that was particularly horrific that rose to mind was too far fetched to worry about. Crudely done or not all he had to do was wrap from here.
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Post by Guinevere von Altenburg on May 30, 2015 12:46:32 GMT -6
Guinevere couldn't help but smile as Richter talked. He was sounding more and more like his old self. "I'll do my best not to let you die, Sir. And as for Rayl's teaching, I'm definitely a better fighter than I was last time I was with you. Whether or not it's up to your standards, I guess we'll see." It was just like Richter to almost immediately wonder weather or not he was better than Rayl. Not that he minded, she knew that she was a worse fighter than them both so if it resulted into getting some training with Richter as well, it would only serve to make her stronger.
She slipped into quiet mode as Richter addressed the boy changing his bandages. Once the boy, Rilcha, started to actually work, it seemed as though his nervousness seemed to lessen slightly. Maybe it was his training showing through. Regardless, she didn't want to interrupt the two of them. Instead, she turned her thoughts back to her lance, the one her parents had gotten her way back when. She loved that lance and the memories that it held, but also had gotten to the point where she thought it might be time to retire it. It had taken its fair amount of wear and tear, and most likely wouldn't last much longer. Rather than see it break, she decided it was time to start using the lance Rayl had given her. Bringing herself back to the moment, she decided to address Richter again. "So, once you're all healed up, any idea where we're heading to first?"
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Post by Richter Abend on Jun 2, 2015 16:23:12 GMT -6
"Rilcha? Ah, I didn't realize-" began Richter, but cut himself off. He had assumed his impromptu medic was a boy, for whatever reason, but the name Rilcha sounded quite feminine, so now he wasn't sure if he'd accidentally misindentified the child. It would explain the shrill voice, and would also help why she looked so nervous around him. The Ilian opened his mouth to speak, to clarify his thoughts, but couldn't think of anything else to say. He hadn't actually said anything outright, so leaving that thought hanging would probably be better than explaining his initial confusion. So Richter decided to just let the kid do their work while he continued talking to Guinevere.
"I do have high standards," the commander declared, echoing Guinevere's sentiment. “But if you’re not up to them I can always whip you into shape.” Richter lifted his good arm above his head as Rilcha started wrapping his upper torso. This was always the nice part. Soft, dry, fresh bandages felt far better on wounds than their damp, crusted counterparts, though that was stating the obvious. "I don't fight with a lance, but I’ve fought against plenty of them.” There was also Clair, against whom Richter had sparred plenty. One of the most skilled lance users he had ever known, even off of the pegasus. “I may not be able to show you how to use a lance, but I can definitely show you how not to use one against someone who knows their way around a battlefield.”
“As for where we’re headed, I have plans but I couldn’t give you an exact answer now,” continued Richter, his gaze now drifting to the ceiling as he pondered the question. “I’ll need to speak with Kenshin once I’m in better shape, at the very least. He owes me troops for all my help. Maybe then it’ll be time to pay Kraft a visit.”
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Rilcha Winters
Novice
"You can't beat the princess of beets. It's like beating a puppy, you just come away feeling awful."
Posts: 36
Profession: Richter's Fan Club President
Affiliation: FanClubAnon LLC
Affinity: Light
Profile: Rilcha
OoC Alias: Mel
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Post by Rilcha Winters on Jun 6, 2015 12:22:45 GMT -6
There was a moment of confusion, green eyes widening for a moment as he paused his work and stared up at Richter whilst the other looked away to address the woman. Rilcha wanted to ask what he meant by the statement he had began yet had eaten part way, but he knew better than to interrupt without a reason. Instead he swallowed the bubbling question and focused on wrapping the patient up in bandage after bandage, knotting the ends together in a shoddy chain. Some rotations were drawn so tight that the skin beneath them paled, and others so loose that they dejectedly and swung with each movement. He knew it was shoddy, sloppy, and nothing like the precise work that Meave had done the day prior, but it was clean? Uncertainty was plain on his face as he examined the attempt, a slight pout on his lips and a crinkle of his nose as he deemed it disappointing but nearly passable.
Nearly.
His shoulders dipped as a large yawn wormed it's way out of him, the lad rubbing his palm to the tip of his nose to rid himself of an itch as he finally took a slight notice of their conversation. Glancing anxiously between the two he politely waited for a pause before speaking up and addressing Richter.
"Meave says you can get up..." he began strong, once again faltering as he met the other's piercing gaze and stared down into his lap. Intimidated, his voice trickled to a nearly incomprehensible mumble, only a handful of words seeming audible. "...few...days...stew..." Rilcha seemed to wilt, shrinking back and crumbling the fabric of his shirt in his fists as he cast a glance towards the doorway.
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Post by Guinevere von Altenburg on Jun 9, 2015 12:12:37 GMT -6
Gwen couldn't help but raise her eyebrows in shock when Richter mentioned paying Kraft a visit. Right back into the fire, huh? Then again, that always was how the commander worked. No use in putting off for tomorrow what you could accomplish today. She was half convinced that he would still pay Kraft a visit even if Kenshin couldn't provide him troops. She have a half hearted shrug. "If that's the plan, Commander, then I'll be with you. Who knows, maybe it'll be fun." She knew it wouldn't be fun, but there was no turning back now. And maybe Kenshin would be able to come through with the soldiers. She had obviously never met Kenshin, but had always heard good things about him. So, fingers crossed.
She watched as the young boy finished bandaging up Richter. Seems like it would be a few days before Richter would be able to get up and around again. That would go over well, Richter having to sit still for days? It almost brought a smile to her face. "Well, Commander, it seems as if you're gonna be laid up for a few more days." A smile did start growing on her face at this point. "Would you like me to get you a book to kill some time? Or maybe a nice map to help plan out the future?" You never know, he might go for one of them. And she was only half joking. Being laid up for days had to be boring, and it was all she could think of to do to help him out.
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