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Snippet #2749654

located in Aires, a part of Birthstone Spirits: The Second Revival, one of the many universes on RPG.

Aires

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel Character Portrait: Angela Taylor Character Portrait: Heather Devereaux Character Portrait: Ron Muller Character Portrait: Dorian Steinsson Character Portrait: Calliope Alexander Character Portrait: Jules Fontaine Character Portrait: Haru Sinwood Character Portrait: Septimus Belletor Character Portrait: Keiran Wakefield Character Portrait: Kibi Character Portrait: Ryou Zerrin
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SEPTIMUS BELLETOR
After the hacking fits subsided and tense breaths eased, Septimus relaxed his stiffened posture and ceased rubbing his arms for frictional warmth - holding himself with a remarkably purposeful stillness, waiting patiently for the spastic arrival of the others. He wasn't waiting long before the splashes of the disturbed shoreline announced the arrival of one or two (and more on their way) and perhaps... No, it was definitely the Constantine roots in him that expected at the very least a terse greeting before anyone happened to step into his space - a warning as it was, would have been appreciated. Septimus' jaw locked as he remained silent hiding away his immediate annoyance, blearily observing Ron's continuing flurry of busy blusterous movements setting up the camp (thank the Goddess for that) with a cautious - due to a lifetime of necessity - unblinking eye. "If you want to dry your clothes-..." Septimus declined with a rueful shake of his head to Ron's commentary upon finishing clothing drying racks and feeding the growing fire. Instead he took the time to avert his wandering gaze to the partially ransacked pack the advanced student Alina had left behind for them: One part because stripping and hanging his coat to dry would ruin the integrity of it's water-sheering properties, and he was certainly much dryer / warmer where it had been fastened tightly before their leap of fate and swim to the patch of sand they currently resided upon; the next --- even invalid, with the other stripping down to near nothing by the sound of it (even with girls / woman about no less!), it was rude to stare. Septimus brought the pack closer with a hesitant stretch of his fingers, finding: The 'pots' Ron had noted within were little more than roughly hewn wood and old ceramic bowels. Dinner (as far as he was concerned by smell) was likely a grain-based (corn, oats, etc) soup with the faint possibility of a minimal amount of red meat (pork, beef, deer) chunks sloshing within the cooking stomach (likely from a small bear) satchel; accompanied by quaint pieces of another common Solacian grain-bread, similar to corn bread of Earth - though slightly damp and contaminated by lake water. He shifted closer momentarily to the crackling flames to set down the soup laden stomach just inside the ring of stones of 'cooling' ash and embers to rewarm properly before consumption, and to set the soggy bread in one of the ceramic bowels right beside the stones to aid warming and drying them off as well. By the time everyone had finished wading up from their eventful initiation exercise, dinner would be ready. "Soon." He hummed, with a breathe of otherwise unwarranted amusement flavoring his voice. Septimus was a softly spoken individual, but from his exhibited (if limited) speech so far with his careful articulation and his charming intonation were anything to note - it was obvious he was a friendly enough, charismatic individual.