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Ryelan Maricon

"Older men declare war. But it is youth that must fight and die."

0 · 886 views · located in Tilt

a character in “Caelum Fatales”, as played by Fetch

Description

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⌠ “It takes many sheep to satisfy one wolf.” ⌡

|| Lorde; Everybody Wants To Rule The World ||

【ɗιαƖσgυє cσƖσя: #0e394f ▮ тнσυgнт cσƖσя #a3a3a3

FC: Saruhiko Fushimi




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FULL NAME
Ryelan Maricon

NICKNAME
Rye, though only by close friends.

AGE
Nineteen

BIRTHDAY
October 23rd


SEXUALITY
Pansexual Panromantic

BLESSED OR ORDINARY
Ordinary / Lord 4

SKILL
Ryelan is a skilled weapons master. He has a vast knowledge and ability to adapt to using most weapons thrown at him. Though, this comes with years of training, and he has the scar to show it.





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BEST FEATURE
One of Ryelan's best features is his height. He stands at a tall 6'2". Though some might say he's also easy on the eyes. It's a shame his personality ruins his appearance, really.

IMPERFECTIONS
Ryelan has several scars that he chooses to hide. His eyesight is utterly horrible, so he has to wear glasses all the time or everything becomes fuzzy colors. He has a bit of a compulsive need to keep his hands clean. This causes his fingers to constantly be sore from washing them too much, and he's normally seen wearing gloves.

GENERALX APPEARANCE
Ryelan is a tall young man, standing at the height of 6'2". Due to his lithe build, this gives off the appearance of lanky. Despite this, he's rather fit and can pull his weight. Ryelan is certainly attractive, with his dark hair and blue eyes he's just as a lord's child should be. While he's not exactly the type to stand out in a crowd, being a noble child tends to give him an air of entitlement.

Ryelan has several scars that he got from incidents when training with his swords. While they aren't very noticeable, he does see them as a constant reminder to become better. He is always seen wearing a set of black rimmed glasses and gloves. He never goes without these two things, as he can't see and his his hands are usually covered in sores due to washing them too much.

On his arm he has a rather interesting tattoo that is usually covered up by the sleeves of his clothing. Though at times it can be seen peaking through his clothes.





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ENTJ || Lawful Evil || Choleric Melancholic

DeceitfulColdSelfishCharismatic

Ryelan at first glance seems like a very kind and charismatic person. And he is - charismatic at least. He's deceitful, and selfishly driven. He doesn't waste his time with people he finds useless to him and will ignore their efforts at getting his attention. He's a very level-headed person and it is hard to faze him in just about any situation. He thinks rationally even in the most dire situations and doesn't let his emotions get the best of him. While he's seen as coldhearted and blunt, those who have known him for a long time tend to know he's a soft spoken person and doesn't like confrontation. Around those he doesn't know, he tends to wear a mask and despises being seen as weak to others. He's assertive, and tends to take the leader position rather quickly. As an alpha, he's also protective of those he cares for, how little the amount of people that is.

Those he doesn't care for tend to more like toys for him, he watches them and will occasionally find a way to make them stumble and fall. He feels nothing for strangers, and is apathetic towards others sorrows; though he can make you believe he does care. He's sly and can speak a lie easily. When speaking towards others, he's very opinionated in conversations and doesn't hesitate to speak his mind. He also has a habit of getting under his rival's skin, purely for enjoyment.

He has a bit of a dry sense of humor, and when he is joking, it's hard to tell as he normally is seen with a straight face when he is.




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┍━━━X LOVE X ━━━┑

Thunderstorms Ryeland absolutely loves stormy days. They go great with a cup of hot tea and well written novel.
Authority Preferably when he's the authorial figure. He loves telling people what to do, and honestly doesn't mind following orders either.
Swordsmanship Something he's been raised to do and excels at, Ryelan loves a good duel with someone who knows proper combat.
Cold He hates the heat, and would do far better in the winter than the summer.
Conversations Sure, he's an ass, but he's an ass that loves in depth conversations.
┕━━━━━━━━━━┙


▶▶ Eνєяутнιηg уσυ ωαηт, вυт αт α ρяιcє ◀◀



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┍━━━XHATEX━━━┑

Θ Arrogance Unless it's him, he absolutely hates when people think they're better
Θ Heat He absolutely despises the heat. It's so uncomfortable to him.
Θ Sweets He's never been one to have a sweet tooth.
Θ Animals They're a bit of a bother, honestly.
Θ Being looked down upon He has a superiority complex, so looking at him as if he was below you is a big no.
┕━━━━━━━━━━┙




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QUIRKS & HABITS
Other than constantly needing to wash his hands, Ryelan is also cracking his knuckles. He also tends to chew on the inside of his cheeks.

STRENGTHS
Manipulative If anything, one could say he's very persuasive.
Sword fighting Being raised by one of the best swordsman in the city, he knows quite a bit and is confident in his skills.
Level-headed Being able to calculate even a stressful situation is one of his greatest strengths
Calm He doesn't lash out like others, helps him stay on everyones good side.

WEAKNESS
Over confidence He's known to over estimate his abilities.
Physically Weak While mentally he's strong, a rival that has more physical prowess can dominate him easily.
Protective Using those he cares for as a pawn is an easy way to break him.
Superiority Again, he believes in himself quite a bit. This doesn't help him when judging foes.

FEARS
Ryelan has a fear of dying alone, broken or unwanted. He's afraid that he'll be forgotten soon after his death and the idea that he won't be remembered terrifies him.





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Ryelan was born with a silver spoon in his mouth by the Maricon estate. The young boy had everything he wanted of material value. His family was one of the better known nobles of Tilt. Despite getting everything, one thing Ryelan lacked was an emotional bond from his parents. His father was a violent drunk when the house was unoccupied, and his mother usually was tending to her friends to take any notice of his son. He kept himself occupied by hanging out with his servant, Matiz. The young boys had a decent bond, but it wasn't until a year or so later that they became close.

When he was younger a rumor of his father having an affair seemed to creep itself into the house, latching onto the family like a leech. While his parents weren't particularly in love, the idea that he had a bastard son enraged the lady of the house. His father grew moreso violent, and began to take his anger out on the young boy while others turned a blind eye.

He endured the abuse for several months before proposing him and Matiz run off to escape the wrath of the father. Though, Matiz was ignorant on what it was they were really doing. Being two children, one a lord's son no less, the two never got far. It was around this time when his bond with Matiz grew, and had been able to see him as a great friend to this day. Despite this, his father tried to send the servant away as a punishment. Luckily he had been able to stop such.

Recently all his efforts have gone into his combat skills. His father is a legendary swordsman, and his "only son" would be no less. The house became quiet, a reminder that despite being noble, they were broken. The neglect and abuse chiseled away at what was once a bright eyed young boy, creating Ryelan as who he is.



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✄ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
FAMILY
Aiden Maricon // Father
Caroline Maricon // Mother
NAME // Half - Brother

❖ C R E A T O R ❖
Verix
Modified by Fetch
Permission to use requested and granted.

So begins...

Ryelan Maricon's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucretia Narrow Character Portrait: Alastor Helstrum Character Portrait: Athena Fausta Character Portrait: Matiz Vandenboom Character Portrait: Ryelan Maricon Character Portrait: Fable N. Saffron
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Errond Station|Drafting Selection|8:43 AM
The air was stifling and uncomfortably warm. The scent of sweat and general odors hung in the air like a cloud, choking Lucretia's other senses. She pulled her collar over her nose, breathing in her own scent of flour and strawberries, mixed with that undeniable twinge of iron that came with blood. It comforted her, if only a little bit.

Lucretia dropped the fabric, but her smell lingered in her nose. A man bumped into her and she shifted uncomfortably. There were too many people jammed into the small station, each hand clinging to a ticket and another piece of paper with the word SUMMONS printed in large red letters. Soldiers would have been more fitting... she thought absently as she tucked back a piece of her short violet hair. In the dark light of the underground station, it looked black and almost shadow like. "Western Combat Unit Six." Lucretia's ears perked up and she turned towards the burly man that had said the number. "Car 14."

He began rattling off names, but Lucretia already knew what Unit she was in and now, she knew where she was supposed to go. She turned to the taller boy next to her. Only a year older in age. "My Lord, I believe that is us," she said in a curt and quiet tone. The announcer had already moved on to the next Combat unit and she could see a few people filtering towards Car 14. If they missed their train, they would be put on the front lines without training. Thus was the law of Tilt. "Shall we go?" she offered him a small, but tentative smile. To most, it would be considered "polite".

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucretia Narrow Character Portrait: Alastor Helstrum Character Portrait: Athena Fausta Character Portrait: Matiz Vandenboom Character Portrait: Ryelan Maricon Character Portrait: Fable N. Saffron
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"Allow me to pave the way. . ."



[ Trisha's Lullaby |FMA:Brotherhood OST ]


Dialouge Cᴏʟᴏʀ ✧ #291096
Tʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ✧ #c9ab02



Bellamy glanced about the station he was in. The smell alone was positively revolting. Too many unwashed bodies pressed together in a small area, well anyone would be able to divine that. Bell looked over to his shorter companion, his right-hand, Lucretia. She was also suffering from the stench. The mention of WCU6 drew Bell's attention right away, even before Lucretia mentioned it.

"Let's go." Bell stated as he took Lucretia's hand in his and made his way towards Car 14. As he walked, dragging her with him, Bellamy's mind wandered off. He felt a pain in his eye bringing him back, his free hand instinctively went up to cover it. His grip tightened on Lucretia. It didn't matter how much this "gift" of his hurt, it only drove him further towards his goals.

Once they arrived at Car 14 Bellamy helped Lucretia inside and sat beside her, making sure she was near him at all times. He felt assured whenever she was beside him. A calm presence letting him know he was supported. Her hand still in his, Bell looked over to her, observing her with judging eyes. No matter how many times he observed her, it always bore the same results. She was totally content and devoted. Nodding to himself Bell spoke.

"Well Lucy, what do you expect to find upon arrival? More incompetence? Or perhaps something of interest for once in a great while?" Bellamy chuckled a bit, he always liked hearing her opinions, she was the only person besides himself that he listened to. After all, on his chess-board she was the Queen to his King. His loyal servant, friend, and executioner. Out of all the people in his life, Lucretia was the only one he could ever truly trust. Making her his strength, but also his Achilles heel. If anything were to happen to Lucretia, Bellamy knew he would lose himself. It was as if at times she was the only thing holding him together. The small violet haired girl had a special place within him, and he hated to admit it but he truly cared for her.

The throbbing in his eye became more intense. "My curse is acting up. . .We must be getting close to something great. Don't you think Lucy?" Bellamy asked looking to her, his cursed eye flickering red. Only Lucretia knew about his curse, only she knew of the burden he carried.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucretia Narrow Character Portrait: Alastor Helstrum Character Portrait: Athena Fausta Character Portrait: Matiz Vandenboom Character Portrait: Ryelan Maricon Character Portrait: Fable N. Saffron
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The station was just about as unglamorous as they came, royalty and commoner treated the same. Loathe as she was to admit it, Mei had gotten used to life behind the high walls. She forgot that a good portion of the population didn't have access to proper amenities, and a large number of them were within the confines with her. She kept a hand on her charge's back, body blocking for her as the brunette paved a way for them both. Now where were they supposed to go?

"Hold our papers for a bit, Miss Athena, since I'll be handling our things." Since this was a summon to war, they were only asked to bring basic items hence the manageable amount of baggage. A bag hung over her shoulder, another on the hand that was near Athena. When she heard someone call out the details of their unit, Mei immediately started herding the much younger girl towards the correct car. She heard both their names, almost calling out an instinctive "here!" before realizing they didn't care either way. If you didn't make the train, you'd still get sent to war. Might as well get some survival tips if the result was still going to be the same.

The brunette made sure Athena was properly seated before she figured out anything else, finding an empty booth. "Save the seat beside you for me, alright?" She gave the girl a pat on the head, then grabbed their luggage off the seat. She could hear others settling down, conversing amongst themselves. No one she recognized. Unfortunate, but expected. Athena wasn't very social to begin with, so Mei's own social circle never expanded beyond the estate walls. When she'd managed to stow both their bags, she returned to Athena, taking the seat beside her.

"Do you recognize anyone, Miss? I'm afraid everyone's a stranger so far." Mei fixed the bun in her hair, the style coming loose during the crowd on the station. She used a short strip of ribbon to keep it in place, using her power briefly to create a tight knot. Not that anyone would see; her hand was blocking the view and to others it would simply appear that the brunette used her hands to tie her hair. If one decided to take extreme notice, they'd realize she had a large number of ribbons on her person. One in her hair, another bound around her hands, and then another acting as a belt around her waist. Even the laces around her shoes, if one counted those. It's unlikely Mei will ever use those though. She's not that desperate. "I could hold the seats across us if there's anyone you know."

"In any case, we'll have to share with at least two other people." She briefly peered out to the walkway, where she saw others still climbing in from the entrance. "Let's try not to make enemies of anyone on the way to there, alright?" The statement sounded rather cheeky, but considering how Athena acted sometimes... not exaggerated. And Mei really did want some peace before she got forced into fighting. "While there will be some people in WCU6 we won't agree with, it won't do us any good to start fighting before we even get off the train."


Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucretia Narrow Character Portrait: Alastor Helstrum Character Portrait: Athena Fausta Character Portrait: Matiz Vandenboom Character Portrait: Ryelan Maricon Character Portrait: Fable N. Saffron
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#, as written by Kirsche
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Caterina pushed her way through the throngs of people ambling about the train station. She'd be given the wrong directions twice now, and she still hadn't found the train she was supposed to get on. Some of the draftees around her were complaining about the smell, but Caterina rolled her eyes at this; the prisons and hovels she'd visited to carry out the King's Justice had made the station seem like a breath of fresh air.

After several minutes of struggling through the crowd, Caterina considered pulling down her hood to bank on the fact she was the Headman's Pride to part the sea of people. Then again, it was doubtful that all of these peasants would know what the Headman's Pride looked like. More likely than not, the peasants only knew of the Headman's Pride as a name to scare children. She sighed with this realization; it would be nice if she was more well known as the one who carried out justice and upheld the laws of the land.

As she continued through the station, Caterina thought back to the events that brought her here. Shortly after the death of the late King, the Lords of Tilt began squabbling over who would now rule the Kingdom. She had never particularly cared about supporting any one claimant, but she'd removed those she deemed unworthy to succeed the King. In the end, her pruning had drawn the ire of many lords , and enough of them had banded together to kill her along with many of the former advisers of the King. Only the intervention of powerful lords who either wanted to protect her for a variety of reasons, or have leverage in the future, managed to nail out a compromise to have Caterina go rebel hunting and likely die in the process. Now, the corruption of the Kingdom would have to be dealt by others who still believed in justice and the Royal Family.

Now, thanks to both her previous occupation and her "friends" in the capital, Caterina was the leader of one of the new units drafted up for war. She'd received the dossiers and photographs of the a few nights ago to peruse at her leisure. This motley collection of lords, peasants, and the oh so blessed children were supposed to be here by now, but then again it was a very crowded station. It took her a while to finally reach the train, but she was inwardly relieved to see that some of the members of her unit were starting to arrive. If there were no shows, Western Combat Unit 6 would be under strength and unable to carry out any orders. After getting on the train, she attempted to find the cart or carts that were supposed to hold her unit.

" Cart 14..." she breathed as she looked into each one, looking for just about anyone from her unit. It occurred to her that perhaps she didn't want to sit next to some of them based off of what she had read in the dossier's she'd been given. Shuffling through the stack of papers as she walked, Caterina decided to find the daughter of Lord Fausta; he'd been one of the lords kind of enough to help her get far away from the mess of politics in the capital, so his daughter couldn't be all that bad.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Matiz Vandenboom Character Portrait: Ryelan Maricon Character Portrait: Fable N. Saffron
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#, as written by Fetch
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War was inevitable, Ryelan knew this much. What he didn’t understand was what possessed the current ruler to send children as their saviors. As he looked around, people shoving and pushing to get to their places, he felt disgusted. Not in empathy for those whom were currently crying, but a deep feeling of filth clung to him and he felt a pressing desire to go wash his hands. A heavy sigh slipped from him and he glanced over at Matiz. He was genuinely concerned for the boy, and despite that Matiz was considered a servant, the young lord only saw him as a friend.

Still, he had a bone to pick with the one who decided to toss young adults into a war. There was an obvious answer to his issue, though, and he was aware. Young adults are far more capable and expendable than their elders. Plus, no one batted an eye unless it was a noble who died. If Ryelan met his demise in a battle, he’d be held as a martyr and a hero to the country. If Matiz on the other hand was killed, no mention of him would arise. Though, who would put their trust into foolish children? Especially when it was to win a war.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, grumbling softly under his breath as he made his way to see where they were heading. “We’re in Car fourteen, I believe.” He spoke, turning to Matiz so that the other could hear him. He might be able to turn into a weapon but he’s not a solider, too compassionate. His thoughts drifted for a moment, but he didn’t get to completely zone out as a voice rang out, telling them to board the car. He sighed heavily, walking up and entering the cart. There were a few lords’ children in the cart, none whom he had ever been interested in speaking with, but lords nonetheless. The noise of the crowd outside seemed to dim down as he made his way towards a seat that was in a section rather vacant.

Taking off his glasses, the boy cleaned them off quickly, adjusting the pair back over his eyes as he shook his head. As much swordsmanship as he possessed, he still felt like being sent to fight a war was something he shouldn't have to do. “If diplomats are paid for their job, they should be able to stop a war.” He hissed under his breath, glancing over at some girl near them. She was carrying a sword and he snorted softly to himself before looking ahead. This unit was bound to crash and burn.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Matiz Vandenboom Character Portrait: Ryelan Maricon
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#, as written by Kapento
Matiz Vandenboom



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Despite their current predicament, Matiz was somewhat oblivious to the finer details of the situation as he instead opted to awe at their surroundings. ”It’s pretty big, huh?” Eyes fixed to the ceiling above, the boy found himself spinning a little on his heel in a bid to get a much fuller picture of what hung above their heads. Though quite frankly it wasn’t anything special, as some would think, and it was vastly different to the home he was use to. Yet strangely enough, for whatever reason, he was quite captivated for the majority of their time thus far.

“We’re in Car fourteen, I believe.” He heard Ryelan say at that moment, gaining the servants immediate attention as Matiz then directed his gaze to the train he believed was theirs. Though of course, he found himself staring at the wrong one when noticing Ryelan moving himself onto a different one. ”Fourteen… fourteen… uh-huh.” Giving a somewhat lackadaisical shrug of his shoulders lightly, the boy moved one foot in front of the other and formed a gradual pace which led him to the train. Though not necessarily in any hurry to hop-on the train per say, keeping his master company was the only priority Matiz held, and as well as making sure his friend didn’t get into any trouble in his absence.

Upon arriving at one of the doors to the train, Matiz quickly boarded with little difficulty, offering a simple nod and smile to those he passed. ”Hi,” He would greet a handful of people, ”Hey there.” The boy would add as he maneuvered his way along the aisle. Thankfully there wasn’t an overabundance of bodies to move through, though the train was beginning to fill up gradually from what he could notice, but decided to not pay it much attention. Soon after and once spotting the familiar boy that was his master, Matiz strolled over and set a foot up against the seat next to Ryelan.

”I found you ~ ” He said in a slightly sing-song voice, before sliding his hands into his pockets and turning on his heel, and plopping himself down beside Ryelan. Although, not quite content as he was the boy shifted his body at an angle, kicking his legs over the armrest quite leisurely. His back in-turn leaning against the other armrest, as the back of his head brushed lightly against Ryelan. ”Hey, I’m kinda’ hungry. You think we’ll eat soon?” Matiz asked, clearly more concerned for his own gut than what was happening on around them. However, when catching the look the other boy had given a girl who sat nearby them, Matiz dropped his head back a little to stare up at his friend.

”You ok?” He asked with visible concern. ”Hey, now. Whatever happens we’ll tough it out together and we’ll show ‘em all who’s the best guys here in this bunch, huh? Which is us, by the way.” He smiled up to his friend for reassurance, all the while wondering where they'll end up next.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucretia Narrow Character Portrait: Alastor Helstrum Character Portrait: Athena Fausta Character Portrait: Matiz Vandenboom Character Portrait: Ryelan Maricon Character Portrait: Fable N. Saffron
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Amidst the chaos that was the train station, an air of nervousness and sweat was almost asphyxiating to the little noble named Sylvaria. Of course she was anxious, as to the fact that both she and Alastor are going into combat, though she was calm since she'd hopefully be away from her brothers and instead with Alastor, her servant. Yet there was another problem which Sylvia put to the back of her mind, only to let it nag at her is how she had the combat abilities of a fluffy bunny, a white fluffy bunny that cannot do any harm to people, but she had one thing setting her aside from other nobles and even blessed children, she could be a medic to those whom would need it.

Though something had drawn her from her thoughts, Alastor had turned and asked her a question,

"Are you ok Mistress?" his voice cut through the mayhem that was caused by the other nobles, she wasn't fond of them, though brushed the thought aside, and replied with her usual kind tone,

"Yes, Alastor. Thank you for asking." she smiled, it wasn't like smiling was rare for her, but her smile was because of her interaction with Alastor. Though her mind had blanked as she heard her name announced, and then heard the unit she was in, "Western Combat Unit 6" was it's name, and she only had one true thought, I-I'm actually going into combat? It wasn't like she was a coward, but more scared of the fact, it caused the anxiety to well up in her chest and almost choked her as it welled in her throat, she followed Alastor as he said something, though she didn't quite hear him.

Soon she and Alastor reached the train they were to get on, she thanked him as she got on, and looked at the others, some whom she recognized, One being Bellamy and his servant Lucretia, another whom Sylvia knew as Athena and her servant, whom was unnamed to Sylvia, though there were others, two whom she didn't know of, though with a gentle smile, she bowed a bit and spoke to those in the car with her, since she doubted that she was well known, even if she was the second daughter of a Duke, "Hello, I'm Sylvaria Matthas. You can just call me Sylvia, and this is Alastor, my..." even so much as saying the word "Servant" was difficult for her, since it suggested that he was under her. Though she continued none the less; "My servant. It's a pleasure to meet you all" she had taken a breath knowing the word had tasted like vinegar, though it was the best word for the time in sylvia's mind.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucretia Narrow Character Portrait: Alastor Helstrum Character Portrait: Athena Fausta Character Portrait: Matiz Vandenboom Character Portrait: Ryelan Maricon Character Portrait: Fable N. Saffron
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#, as written by CutUp
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Alastor folded his arms, and visibly became uncomfortable at the mention of him being Sylvia's servent. Sure, he is, but still even now it's a bitter pill for him to swallow. 'Why intoduce me as a servent? In makes me sound like a maid. Why not call me a bodyguard if you don't want to use the word slave?' Al thought to himself as he made sure everything that Sylvia, and he brought onboard was put away. "Call me Al if you wish. I've also been called Hellstorm as well." Alastor rather half heartedly added to Sylvia's introduction. Hellstorm was a little nickname that Al got when he was first brought in for being a Blessed Child. It was something meant to remind Alastor that he's a monster. But honestly he's taken a shine to it. He wasn't sure if any of them had heard of his nickname before or not.

Al took a seat next to a window, and watched as they pulled out of the station. Once they left Al looked up, and around at all his new 'comrades'. He knew of them all from dossier that have been provided to him by his rebel contacts. He only had the most basic of information of them. Mostly just psychological profiles, things that could provide him with a edge when deceiving them. Al then glanced over at Sylvia. He felt so guilty for deceiving her, as she's the closest thing to a friend he's had for a long time. And yet when she needed him the most he wasn't there. When she was forced into this unit he was out meeting with a contact. And by the time he found out he was too afraid to do something. He feared of what would happen to his family if tried to do anything. No, the only solution he could think of was to allow her be drafted, and protect her in battle. Not to mention the added benefit of being on the frontline for the rebels.

"Mistress...I'm sorry." Al whispered to Sylvia. "I....should have done something to protect you. I was just...afraid. Al added. "Just...stay in my sights, and I promise no harm will come to you Mistress. I will do everything in my power to make up for failing you." Al ordered with a look of determination that made every word even more sincere. While he did mean his words, the intention of them is more than just a mere apology. While he normally wouldn't speak like this to anyone 'above his station', but when it comes to Sylvia's safety he doesn't do this song and dance.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alastor Helstrum Character Portrait: Matiz Vandenboom Character Portrait: Ryelan Maricon Character Portrait: Sylvaria Matthas
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Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sunk down slightly into his seat. He had been mostly ignoring Matiz until the other glanced over at him and he sighed softly. The other was rather composed, but Ryelan doubted he realized the severity of what was to happen to them. They were being shoved into a bloody war, after all, and here was his friend thinking more about food than anything else.

”Hey, now. Whatever happens we’ll tough it out together and we’ll show ‘em all who’s the best guys here in this bunch, huh? Which is us, by the way. As his friend spoke up, Ryelan chuckled softly, the ghost of a grin slipped on his lips, though it was fleeting. “You never fail to improve one’s mood, Matiz.” As he spoke to his friend, his voice didn’t really reach the sincerity of the praise and it fell a bit flat. He was worried of the outcome of this war. The idea of death didn’t really suit him. His attention was shifted elsewhere though as some Duke’s daughter announced herself and her Blessed Child as her servant. Technically they were, but Ryelan had always made a point to introduce Matiz by his name and nothing more. Little details like their standing were rather useless, in his opinion.

The boy with her introduced himself as Al, or Hellstorm, which got a snort out of Ryelan. He shook his head to himself, finding the nickname rather laughable. Just what we need, some pink-haired punk with an edgy nickname. The girl with him didn’t look like she’d be able to hold her weight. He knew of her, at least he knew her father. Ryelan’s father was influential and while Ryelan himself never dealt much with the other families, his parents friends were constantly over.
Turning back to face in front of him, he rested his chin onto the palm of his hand, closing his eyes and sighing softly.

“Say, Matiz?” He tilted his head slightly, looking over at his friend and letting a smile tug at his lips. “How are you feeling? I can’t have you breaking down on me.” His tone was uninterested but his gaze flickered over back at his friend, genuinely concerned with his wellbeing. While the other was daft, Ryelan felt that the other might be more level-headed about their situation. He seemed pretty unfazed about it all, lazily laying in his seat. Ryelan turned his attention to in front of him once more, closing his eyes and smirking.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alastor Helstrum Character Portrait: Athena Fausta Character Portrait: Ryelan Maricon Character Portrait: Bellamy Noihaus Character Portrait: Caterina Straetos Character Portrait: Sylvaria Matthas
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"Tedious..."

There seemed to be some action going on in the train, Like Athena said, Keeping ties is dangerous, But it seemed the people in the train, COMPLETELY!, disregarded everything in that very sentence. Or at least one person, Sylvaria Matthas, The master of Alastor, Since Fire-man was completely devoted to Sylvaria, She was at least well, known to Athena, Although it is understandable if she is unrecognized by most. Her medical skills were impressive, But they weren't something that people in the kingdom usually talked about, They would either talk about, Sword-Man or Skinny-Man, For lack of a better nickname.

Ryelan Maricon, Also known as Sword-Man, or was pointy objects-man better? Apparently, One of the Best Swordsmen in the kingdom, His family is well-known, So Athena is well-informed about him, But she has never met him in person, for obvious reasons that will remain un-mentioned. His father is a legendary swordsmen, And he should be no exception.

Bellamy Noihaus, Though skinny-man would work just fine, As that is his body type. He might suppress Athena in terms of intelligence, So he kind of bothers Athena, Keeping her distance seems to be the only way to still be able to maintain her dominance, Which left a bitter taste in Athena's mouth.

The rest of the people residing on the train didn't come close to interesting, Athena was always fond of big names, And seeing of the owners could live up to them.

She was still waiting for Ms. Straetos to rescue her from this disgusting, poor-excuse of a train, She knew full well that if she became a foot-solider, She would get killed before the battle even started, She liked it better behind the action, Not in front of it, Calculations were the only thing that Athena had pride in, Not fighting.

For lack of a better word

She was scared

It was a emotion she kept well, Even now, But it seemed one person would always find a way to empathize with her, "Are you hungry?, Athena promptly asked Mei, As a poor attempt to cover what she was feeling.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucretia Narrow Character Portrait: Athena Fausta Character Portrait: Matiz Vandenboom Character Portrait: Ryelan Maricon Character Portrait: Bellamy Noihaus Character Portrait: Caterina Straetos
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"Allow me to pave the way. . ."



[ Trisha's Lullaby |FMA:Brotherhood OST ]


Dialouge Cᴏʟᴏʀ ✧ #291096
Tʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ✧ #c9ab02



Bellamy sat observing all those around him and Lucretia. Her heartbeat was troubled, he could feel it in her palm. Looking up intensely over to the small girl. She practically was radiating fear, terrified of what to come. Truly unprepared for war. The swordsman and his partner, probably more suited for war, yet totally unknown to them was struggle. They mucked about without a care, maybe it was all a facade, hiding their true fear. Bellamy however, unlike most, wasn't afraid. He was shaking however, with pure anticipation and excitement. Once he became king, he'd let out the order to hunt down and destroy the dark fae, then he'd free the good fae allowing them to roam freely once more.

Bellamy would also decree that the Blessed children were to be honored, honored for their service and honored as fae-blessed. The fae were Bellamy's obsession, he knew he had a problem, a problem he intended to fix. Watching the young girl who stank of fear, Bellamy's purple eyes bore into her. His voice low as he addressed her.

"Madam. . . Fausta correct? I have heard of you. Please don't fear. This war will end swiftly. Then you can return somewhat unharmed to your home." Bellamy had meant for it to calm her, he didn't want her to fly off into some sort of fear-enduced madness. Which Bellamy had seen first-hand. Although he realized she didn't have much hope in this war, he prayed her Blessed was strong enough to protect the young lady.

He also hoped the duo had enough sense to stay out of his way.