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Ryou Zerinn

"So this is what I have to work with… Well, then…"

0 · 1,941 views · located in Aires

a character in “Birthstone Spirits: The Great Escape”, as played by usernamesareadrag

Description

|Good Natured|Impish|Teacher|Protective|Warm|Obfuscating Stupidity|Affectionate|Jovial|Responsible|Fighter|
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Name: Ryou Zerinn

Age: Unknown- Appears to be in his late twenties to early thirties

Nation: Originally from Nomansland

Height: 6'1

Hair: Blonde

Eyes: Golden

Guardian: Monkey Guardian of March

Quirks: *Lives a mostly vegetarian lifestyle, but has no qualms with eating meat. His favorite foods, however, belong in the fruit category

*Despite his successful Academy, Ryou's own quarters are very Spartan and he doesn't own much. Oddly enough, he has no problem with spoiling others, especially Karma.

*Don't let his jovial nature fool you, Ryou is definitely a Papa Bear, fiercely protective of those under his care. Not only that, but he acts a little too fatherly at times, worrying incessantly for his students and generally feeling the stresses of fatherhood

*A very physical person, he's openly affectionate with most people that he is close to. If he keeps a distance, then you know something is up.

*Apparently enjoys taking in strays whether they be animal or, more often then not, human

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General Appearance: Ryou is incredibly fit and tan from long hours working outside and training his students. He's more muscular than the average person, but not grotesquely so. Rather he's built in such a way that you can see the hard work that went into every inch of his body. He almost always has scruff on his face, more due to a lack of caring on his part then an actual fashion statement, and his blonde hair is kept at a length that usually stops halfway down his neck. At the Academy, he's usually in his green training gi, but he does have a few other outfits that he keeps on hand when he needs to dress to impress or has to actually wash the gi(which is, of course, always the more common reason).

General Information: The second guardian to break free, while Ryou hasn't been around for as long as Haru, his time spent roaming Aires and, on some occasions, Earth is nothing to sniff at. For many years, the monkey Guardian refused to settle down, exploring the world he'd tried so hard to save from country to country, sea to sea, traveling to all four corners of the globe. Eventually, however, he found himself settling down in the country of Solace, opening an Academy to train the future warriors, healers, and, on occasion, terrors of Aires. While no one is quite sure why he chose this path for himself-and, really, that's only because they haven't asked because he'd love to answer- popular belief is that he was so dismayed by what he found on his travels that he decided to train others to put the world back together, one person at a time. If you asked those closest to him, however, they might say that he just felt like it.

Ryou was the only teacher at first, but, as the Academy grew in numbers, he grew strained and given some classes to advanced students to teach, something that's been working out quite well for him. After finishing their time at the Academy, students tend to disappear into the world never to return, going on to make great names for themselves. Well, most students. While Ryou holds some form of affection for all of his students, it wasn't until young Ji Na Chae and Benjamin Hemming wandered into his life that Ryou actually became paternal about anyone in his care. At their young age, they were less like his students and more like his own children who he raised with care and watched blossom into brilliant young adults. They didn't leave, choosing instead to stick around which, while Ryou had never said it out loud, made him a proud and happy father indeed.

In recent years, he's added even more people to his little family at the Academy, something that's delighted him to no end. Nine years ago he took in Mori Lavi, Dae Grimm, and Liam Valentine, all of whom quickly became like family, Mr. Vo, the Goddess-sent jack of all trades who became an integral part of Academy life, and, perhaps most importantly of all, Karma, the pink-haired firecracker. How she came to be the newest member of his adoptive family is a mystery if only because both she and Ryou insist on telling stupid and ludicrous stories about how it happened, changing the story every time.

Ryou is incredibly devoted to his Academy and tends to put the needs of his students ahead of himself which is probably not the best habit to keep, but he'd rather not dump his own problem on his students. His love-life, according to more recent arrivals, is nonexistent, but if you look back through the years, you can tell that Ryou really just isn't lucky in love. But even without romance in his life, he's quite content where he is. That is, of course, until he realized that it was time to become a Guardian once more and train twelve reluctant teenagers to be month warriors. Great.

So begins...

Ryou Zerinn's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Ryou Zerinn Character Portrait: Haru Karokav Character Portrait: Falke der Herrscher
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"Clothes, food, water, hygiene… I'd say that's a good plan if I've ever heard one." Despite the cacophony of the market as people wandered, bartered, and (on the odd occasion) stole, the words of agreement cut through the noise, easily heard to the group of young men clustered closely together. It wasn't a harsh voice, nor particularly loud, but its tone commanded attention like a natural orator taking the stage. None of this would have been particularly odd- people, unfortunately, do tend to make a habit of eavesdropping and adding their own unwelcome and unnecessary two cents to conversations, and those gifted with speaking skills were not so rare as to raise an eyebrow- if not for the fact that the speaker has suddenly appeared within the ranks of male month warriors and one guardian without any warning. Not that the speaker seemed to mind surprising those he'd so rudely interrupted. If anything, the broad grin pasted across his face would indicate that he was very pleased to get the jump on them.

At a first glance at the man, the first word that would come to mind is "loud". Well, in terms of color scheme, that is. His long, shaggy hair was the color of gold with twinkling, mischievous eyes to match, contrasting rather dramatically with his tanned skin. He had he beginnings of a beard, more from an unwillingness to shave or a simple lack of caring rather than a fashion statement, stubble decidedly absent on the thin, pale scar that carried on from the top of his left temple and down to the left of his chin. If the scar didn't clue the casual passerby into the fact that he might, in fact, be something of a threat, his build and choice of clothing just might do the trick. He was tall with a muscular build that could only come from constant training and heavy lifting, and he wore what would be recognizable to even the Earthlings as a forest green martial arts gi with a small staff attached at the hip. However, despite his warrior-like looks, the look of amusement plastered on his face alongside a beaming grin made him seem much more mischievous than threatening.

"Of course, you are forgetting something incredibly important," He continued on, words almost rushed like a person trying to get to the punchline of a hilarious joke. "Not to worry, though. I've got just what you need.." With a tug, the man pulled someone else into the group, someone who was actually recognizable. Well, a little bit. They hadn't known him for that long, after all, and he'd been covered in blood the last time they'd seen. It was, in fact, Dorian Roberts, once missing and now found March month warrior. He looked more than a little worse for wear, dark circles under his eyes, bruises littering his body like a mosaic painting, and a cut on the bridge of his nose from just two or so days prior. He didn't look pleased(he never did) but maybe a bit relief showed on his rather scary face, and he was already dressed like a native in dark clothes, apparently his colors of choice, and with a nicely constructed leather bag bulging with purchases.

"I've brought my little lost sheep, back to his flock," The man cooed, beaming at Dorian with a look that clearly stated it was something of an inside joke between the two. Dorian's responding look (see: grimace) stated, in reply, that he was already sick of whatever joke that was but was trying to be a good sport about it.

"You're lucky I was in the neighborhood when I got your note, Haru. How do you do anything without me?" The man said, now turning his gaze fully on Haru before making a quick move towards him. It was so sudden that it could very well have been the beginning of a brutal attack on the one acting Guardian, but ended up in a big bear hug instead.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Ryou Zerinn Character Portrait: Haru Karokav Character Portrait: Falke der Herrscher Character Portrait: Jason Carter
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A deeper and rougher voice than any of the others he's heard so far startled Kyle. His smile faded and he gripped tighter to Jason, but he wasn't sure if he felt a need to protect Jason or have Jason protect him. Startled was too mild a word. It scared him, and neither did the strange accent help. He could only understand half the words, if that. When he realized that it was the other blond boy, he let go. Kyle hadn't even known the boy could speak.

Before he could fully recover his composure, they had another surprise. A scruffy man with a scar on his face apparently understood what the quiet blond was saying and decided to put in his own two cents. Kyle didn't say anything to the stranger, but he did pay attention when the man pulled Dorian forward and grinned widely. Kyle appeared completely immune to the intimidating glare. "Dude! You made it!" Pushing and weaving through anyone in his way, he hurried over to again slap Dorian on the back. Afterwards he paused to look him over. "What the hell happened out there?" Kyle again spoke without thinking, but this time he didn't catch himself either.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Ryou Zerinn Character Portrait: Haru Karokav Character Portrait: Falke der Herrscher
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#, as written by rikura
Jason stopped jumping around as one of the other boys grabbed his hand to keep him from continuing to point at everything, and kindly realized he should probably be a little calmer and more alert and serious... yeah. Calm and alert he could do, but he didn't see the more serious happening that easily. As he saw and heard Kyle, the guy who'd grabbed his hand, say, "Why don't we go this way and see what's here? unless someone has a better idea..."

Jason sort of glanced around at the others, and almost jumped as simultaneously his hand was gripped almost painfully hard and a low growling voice came into existence. He blinked at the larger blond, not really remembering his name, and noting that, A) this was the first time he'd heard the guy speak, B) he had an awesome accent, and C) he didn't seem too happy at the moment.

"Ah, um, yeah. Sounds good, partner..." Though he wasn't particularly sure the guy cared how Jason thought his suggestion sounded. No harm in agreeing... And Jason was thankful as he felt the tension on his hand from Kyle's grip disappear. He almost sighed, about to ask why the dude was so on edge, when a new voice and figure stepped in with a, "Clothes, food, water, hygiene… I'd say that's a good plan if I've ever heard one."
Jason's eyes snapped towards the new figure. When had he appeared? Well... so much for being alert. For someone who walked in completely unnoticed, he sure had one of those mellower voices that drew people's attention. Weird combo, but Jason found himself grinning in return to the new guy's grin. For some reason, he liked the look of this guy, despite whatever else may occur.

To his surprise, the guy pulled a very familiar face into the fray. Um, he thought the guy's name was, uh, Dorian? Well, anyways, he was the other warrior dude who'd somehow managed to kill the cyclo-thing they'd met in Central Park. Jason was further surprised at Kyle's overly positive response to Dorian's appearance, and his grin changed into something of a friendly smirk.
Then he noticed what shape Dorian seemed to be in, and his smirk disappeared into a curious, "dude, what happened?" and then a, "wait, do I even want to know?" expressions. He then proceeded to shake his head at his own conflicting thoughts or curiosity and doubt and settled for giving the companion a mild wave and smile.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Ryou Zerinn Character Portrait: Haru Karokav Character Portrait: Falke der Herrscher
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Xabier was so confused that he decided to say quiet.
After a long and gruelling journey on his horse (maybe it was just him who found it difficult.), Haru showed them the room they'd be staying in.
They would all be sleeping in the same room! Boys and girls together! Xabier was conflicted with how he felt about that. He didn't mind sharing a room so much,he did it all the time with his friends. But he had a troublesome habit of wandering about his bedroom naked. It was too hot for pyjamas. As much as he trusted himself not to pounce on someone in the middle of the night he couldn't be too sure about any of the others. He'd only met them hours ago. He worried quietly about it as he ran his fingers through his hair. They were large but slender like a boy rather than a man.
Well I AM a teenage guy after all,he thought as he joined the boys group. They split up with the boys going with Haru and the girls with Tallyho. The marketplace bustled noisily and he hid his new sack of money in his coat. As much as his street-smarts were lacking he had the common sense to also hide his stupid brooch. Still it glinted conspicuously in the evening sun. A girl ran past him in a scurry. Flyaway strands of white blonde hair and then she was gone forever
He wanted to ask if the two friendly guys in his group,(Kyle and Jason was it?),saw any tea around here and if there was a possibility of getting some medical supplies while they were at it, but something felt weird. Like a scrap of metal was lodged in his chest. What was wrong?
The quiet blonde guy who looked European ,was actually German. Xabier couldn't help but feel delighted with the fact that the blonde guy was also foreign to the others. Finally someone who understood his struggle with the English language. The only disappointing thing was that he was wrong with his guess of Norwegian... He tried to smile at him but the pain hit him abruptly again. What was that? Did he somehow dislodge something while riding that puta horse? He listed of a few symptoms in his head. Pleurisy? A pneumothorax in the lung? High cholesterol maybe? He hoped to god he hadn't had blood clots in his lungs. He really didn't need this right now in the middle of an open marketplace. He calmed down immensely when he realised that he was just have a small panic fit instead a full blown heart attack. He had let himself remember for a moment and it completely consumed him. Xabier wouldn't allow himself to be alone with his memories again. They hurt too much.

They were deciding on what to buy when two newcomers came. There was a loud and confident looking guy who bounded across and tackled Haru into a hug. Gato-man has friends? It seemed like the guys knew one of them from before. All at once it seemed like a big set up. They had lured him in to a false sense of security and now they could easily overpower him.
Xabier glanced at the dark haired guy who looked about his age but seemed much older. He looked like what his ama would call "Gizon arriskutsua". Or peligroso in spanish.
"Without meaning to sound blunt,who are you?" His voice came out firmer then the shaky little boy cowering inside. The boy who avoided confrontation unless necessary.

Gizon arriskutsua/peligroso = dangerous

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Aria Delaine Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel
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Tallyho hummed at Skylar’s question. Something that can still be eaten past its expiration would have been nice. Items with milk and fruit probably wouldn’t have been good ideas.

“Bread. Bread and nuts. Maybe small dried fruits?” She readjusted the sack’s strap on her shoulder. Unfortunately all of that food sounded incredibly boring. Tallyho might have been small, but she preferred real food, like meat.

Lux asked where they should go next, and Tallyho told her that they would get food. After all, most of them seemed to want it.

“It is primarily found on the other side of the market, though,” she said, “along with the clothes.”

And so that’s where she led them—a straight cut through the center of the market where a small clearing area was set up for public entertainment. Tallyho froze when she heard the familiar pluck of an instrument that to earthlings might have likened to a sitar. She groaned slightly, and soon the harmonious tones of women and the tinks of bells joined into to create a lively song laden with foreign, melodic lyrics. The February warrior made sure that her hair was tucked back farther into her scarf, and then she turned to the others.
“Alright. So a bunch of women might come prancing towards you, beckoning for you to watch the performance and offer tips. Don’t do it. In fact, don’t make eye contact. Just stay close to me, and stay on the outskirts of the performance area.”

Without offering any more of an explanation, Tallyho bounded off. Cautious of where she was stepping.

The song grew louder and the girls could begin to make out the stage area where dozens of women danced and sang in long flowing skirts, bandeaus, and dresses that were jagged from weathering. Bells were firmly tied to their ankles, and floral crowns adorned their heads. Though they looked poor, they were still swelling with joy as they sang, and they even held and air of grace. Their curls bounced as they sung, and made yellow shimmers in the sunlight.

Men accompanied them, though they did not dance. They wore white cotton blouses and harem pants stained with reds and purples. They plucked away at their instruments, some playing lutes or “sitars”, and others pounding away at animal skin drums. Leis laced of the same flowers the women wore adorned their necks, but they were hard to see for they all wore their hair long and their heads were bowed low in musical passion, golden curls making curtains around their necks and faces.

If all went according to plan, the group of girls managed to make it past the concert without being disturbed. Tallyho sighed as the flung herself to the nearest clothing stand, her face flushed with relief.

“By something comfortable,” she said, “and let’s move on.”


Still pleased with the group’s reaction to his coat, Haru blinked at Jason’s not so helpful answer. To be honest, he pointed too quickly for Haru to pay enough attention to what he was pointing at. The only thing he could put his finger on were the tooth leaves.
“Oh right, we will get those. I mean, unless you’re okay with rotting teeth.”

Then Kyle suggested that they just wandered around.

“While a leisurely day in the market seems nice, I would really like to know about a few things that you can’t live without so that we can get them as soon as possible.”

Then Falke spoke. Haru raised his eyebrows, trying to decipher what he had said. Honestly, most, if not all of the guardians understood a wide array of languages across Earth and Aires. After all, they had all of the free time to learn them. But Haru hadn’t used German since 1988, and quite frankly he was more than a little rusty, even when hearing the accents in English. Although Falke was trying hard. After taking a moment to get his message straight, Haru wholeheartedly agreed. He had the right idea.

“Okay, dried food, water, clothes, hygiene. Okay, nothing special there. We can do that.”

Then there was the voice. Not a voice, but the voice.

Haru turned to see its owner.

“Ryou,” he hummed. Dorian was then pulled into the picture, beat up just as bad as the cat guardian had expected.

“Well medical supplies should definitely go on the list. Where’d you find your…sheep?” he asked as planted a firm hand on Dorian’s shoulder. Apparently Ryou didn’t feel like answering, because Haru was soon taken into a bro hug, which, he didn’t really want to be in at the moment, and desperately tried to pry himself out of.

Then Harper began to ask his questions.

“Yes, he’s a guardian. Ryou Zerinn guardian of March, aka Dorian. His animal is the monkey and he is the esteemed founder of a training academy located in the mountain range east.”

Haru wasn’t really in the mood to deal with Harper for extended amounts of time so his explanation was rather quick and snappy. The only useful thing Harper contributed to the journey was the suggestion to purchase temporary knives until they made it to the mound. Haru silently took note of it.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Ryou Zerinn Character Portrait: Haru Karokav
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Even though he still wanted to know what happened to Dorian, Kyle stepped back to give the taller boy breathing room, since his presence stirred up a lot of attention. Haru even reached to take hold of him, probably to keep Dorian from getting lost in the crowd. That's why they needed to stay close, right? The scruffy guy that arrived with him turned out to be another guardian, Ryou Zerrin. There was a name Kyle could pronounce. That was a relief. At least all of the guardians didn't have weird names. He shouldn't blame them though, because most people's names were not chosen by themselves.

While still waiting for Dorian, he answered Haru, "Well, the 'can't live without' list is pretty much covered. I just wanted to run off some extra energy and get a proper stretch from sitting on that horse for hours." He scratched his chin and continued, "I could start a 'nice to have' list though. Sunglasses and a razor would go on that list." Kyle actually hadn't started shaving yet, but he was the same age as his father was when he started, the father he knew at least. He still didn't know how long they would be stuck here, and the idea made him nervous, but for the most part he kept that to himself.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Ryou Zerinn Character Portrait: Haru Karokav Character Portrait: Falke der Herrscher
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It took a good deal of reserve and years of keeping his stoic face in check not to make Dorian flinch with the sudden slap on his back. For one, people he didn't know didn't tend to talk to him let alone make physical contact with him. Secondly, he hadn't had the best relationship with strangers as of late and, quite frankly, the last time he'd seen this particular boy had involved flailing arms and broken noses. And, lastly, even if the slap had been intended to be friendly and jovial and was indeed from someone Dorian actually liked, Dorian's back wasn't currently up to anything besides keeping up his ramrod straight posture, the skin hidden beneath his clothes a veritable patchwork of bruises and other wounds minor enough to not have him falling and refusing to get up.

So, really, you could forgive him for stepping slightly away from Kyle with a slight wince, a mere flex of the facial muscles. There was a bit of confusion there too because he had no idea what he'd done to garner such an overly familiar friendly gesture or even the smile that showed up on another boy's face- that one he vaguely recognized as the tourist who'd tried to help that Arian girl. It had been ages since then, or what felt like ages since he didn't exactly have a calendar to consult, and he was sure that it showed if the concerned exclamation from the violent blonde and the matching look of concern from the Southerner meant anything. And he did look awful, he was sure of it, because he could feel it with every stretch, the loss of weight hidden beneath his clothes, his unruly hair and the matching stubble. God, he wanted a shave.

The others in the group- all boys, he realized, with a vague ponderance about what happened to the girls- didn't look even half as bad as he did. There was the boy who'd spoken right before Ryou made his grand entrance, the one who he could only think of as the one who'd shouted at and insulted him in the portal cave thing, and two new faces in the form of a tanned young man with an accent that Dorian could easily identify as Spanish and a red-headed man who he knew instantly as Haru. Why? Because Ryou was deeply invested in the idea that road-trips (i.e. saving Dorian's ass and escorting him to the main group) needed bonding time and he'd heard more than enough about the cat Guardian.

"I can tell you about it later," He finally replied, voice a little raspy as it his throat hurt, but just as stoic as ever. Somehow telling a story of his grand(read: traumatic) adventure by himself was appealing standing in the middle of a busy market. Besides, Ryou was more than happy to guide the conversation away from his little lost lamb. Ugh. Ugh.

"As expected, I found him exactly where he shouldn't have been," Ryou offered Haru quietly with a promise of more once they weren't all standing around being buffeted by people who just wanted to get their shopping done, thanks very much. Then, after letting Haru struggle for a minute because it was just so darn amusing, he released him from the confines of his hug with a pat on the shoulder and turned to the group around him with a beaming expression on his tanned face.

"Like Haru said, I'm Ryou, March guardian and teacher extraordinaire. And, just for a refresher, this is Dorian, your resident March warrior," He introduced with a quick bobbing nod of his head. But their attention was already wandering to things apparently more interesting than guardians and reintroduced comrades. Oh well. He'd dealt with worse before. Kind of. His attention zeroed in on Harper, whose interest had been the first to vanish, with an amused look on his face.

"Charming, we've already got someone vying for the leader spot. Better watch your back, Haru," He said with not even an ounce of sarcasm in his voice, just good humor. "Good idea, though. I think I can help you with any last minute purchases. Follow me, please." With that, he whirled around and began walking through the crowds which either parted obligingly around him or he weaved through them so seamlessly that it gave that illusion. Dorian hurried behind him because Ryou was honestly the first bit of sanity that he'd found on Aires, however sad that may be.

Ryou led the motley crew through the market, ignoring the busier stalls and pointing out smaller, shabbier ones with cheaper and better options within. As it turned out, he and Dorian had already made their rounds and scouted out the little city of stalls, which did come in handy. After the odds and ends- knives for those who wanted a nice temporary medicine, medicine for the hard road ahead, and the likes- were purchased, Ryou seamlessly handed over the leader position to Haru to guide them back to the inn.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Ryou Zerinn Character Portrait: Haru Karokav Character Portrait: Falke der Herrscher
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Oh my, a triple post! woops

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Ryou Zerinn Character Portrait: Haru Karokav Character Portrait: Falke der Herrscher
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Ignore ignore

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Ryou Zerinn Character Portrait: Haru Karokav Character Portrait: Falke der Herrscher
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Harper balked at Ryou's comment. "Leader?!" he exclaimed loudly, "Hell, no! I'll be the first to tell you that I'd be a terrible leader. I'd vote against myself if it came down to it. Got enough adult responsibilities without having to lead around a bunch of kids like some college welcoming party."

Harper did lighten up when they reached the knives, picking through the selection. His current mindset was one that would carve better than the one from last night, although he supposed if a knife carved well, it would also stab well, although the though shook him. Harper was more of a fists guy, when it came to fighting. But even then, despite the tough front he put up, he was more of a pacifist than a fighter. The strength and muscles he had developed from swimming only went so far, and he'd had his share of swirlies in the public school toilets.

He eventually purchased two knives, one specifically for carving, the other an extra for carving but one he wouldn't mind poking people with, if it came to that. He tucked them into his satchel, along with the other things he had gotten--some of which being little souvenirs to give to Sadie, whenever he got back from all of this--and hoisted the semi-full bag up against his back.

"You don't suppose they have little metal gears or things like that around here, do you?" Harper asked, "You know, like tinker toy, gadgety sort of stuff? Or have these guys not even hit the Iron Age yet?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Aria Delaine Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel
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(Read my OOC post~)

Tallyho nodded to Autumn.

“I’m fine,” she hummed.

She furrowed her brows and began to sift through the many fabrics once more. Her gaze was one of critical appraisal. But had she really cared what color her dress was? Not particularly. She felt like she was perpetrating, actually. No matter how convincingly the wrinkles between her brows were knotted in focus, she could not.

She dragged herself through the trip, however. After the purchase of clothes, she took the girls to an array of booths—securing the need for food, combs, gauze, and any other essentials. She made sure to steer clear of the performance area too, and from her decision she seemed less tense.

It had taken the girls longer to arrive back at the inn. As they approached, Tallyho could make out Haru and his group hanging around the entrance. But there were two men too many. She could see that Dorian—the missing warrior from before—had made it back into the fray. He was pretty banged up, and the bruises and cuts only made him look angrier—well no—he didn’t look like an angry person, just unsatisfied. With the world.

Haru nodded to the girls as they approached.

“So everyone is set?”

Tallyho nodded.

“Alright, well let’s toss our stuff upstairs. The inn we are staying in today actually serves food in the mead hall attached, so we will just wait on their call.”

Tallyho nodded and glided to the door, maneuvering through her peers silently. She fell onto her cot and perched her elbows onto the nearby window seal. The shadows were angled at six o clock. The familiar sound of bells rang from below and the blonde could make out the more familiar band of musicians marching back to their caravan for the night.

The public was a funny entity for them. When they pranced on the stage they were beloved tokens of atmosphere and frivolity. But when they were sprinkled amongst the common grind, the public reviled them. They pressed their bodies away from them. Turned their noses up at them.

-x-

Those mead halls were no different from the taverns. Same grimy men, same grimy food, less alcohol. Maybe they were worse. But there was a hell of a lot of meat in circulation, so Tallyho couldn’t complain. She hadn’t had meat on a regular basis for such a long time—she was actually a little afraid that she had tricked herself into being a vegetarian. Naturally, she was forced to find a seat next to the other warriors. She was not particularly keen on being wedged between two people, so she planted herself at the end of a bench where she’d be guaranteed a little more wiggle room. She hadn’t really paid much attention to her surroundings that night. Haru jabbered on with the new guy, introducing him to the girls as Ryou, and guardian of March. It seemed that the other guardians were beginning to file in. but to imagine their group numbers doubled was quite unpleasant.

She focused on her food. Filling her head with musings about corn-beef stew until it was time to travel back to the inn for bed.

-x-

Haru was very serious about getting down to the mound. Tallyho had always believed that the usual time it took to get down there from the capital was two weeks. But Haru boasted that they could do it in five days. She hadn’t really believed him until she experienced the travel pattern Haru had them on. After making the additional horse purchases, they left Malboro at five in the morning and on that first run they rode until ten at night—only stopping to rest when the horses whinnied from exhaustion, hunger or thirst. Never mind the whining from the warriors—it seemed the cat guardian would only offer compassion to innocent beasts. And she was really beginning to see what he meant when he told them that after the first couple of days, life would be harder. After having them ride on the dry grassy plains from dawn to death he would expect the warriors to be ready to help Ryou and him set up camp by gathering fire wood, berries, anything that they needed for the night.

On the first night, Tallyho was put on wood duty, and with a few others, she wandered into nearby forest groves to hack a meager amount of wood with their bazaar bought machetes. On nights like those, there wasn’t much room for socialization—at least for Tallyho. By the time they were allowed their “free time” most would have been ready to die, or it was to be spent refilling water gourds in small marshes. Tallyho usually slept when given the extra time.

The first two nights were tough, but by the third night, Tallyho had lost all willingness to complain—and it wasn’t like she ever complained out loud either. If you would have asked her back then, she would have told you that she had gotten used to that regimen. But she began to fret—was that always going to be the life of a month warrior? For a group so valued by a global religion, there was a severe lack of glory in their job. Tallyho sort of imagined that instead of sleeping on the ground, people would be opening their homes for the group. That instead of running around with lame machetes, blacksmiths would be custom crafting armor and weapons for them.

But the journey wouldn’t last much longer. Haru was certainly right about his boasts. They had seen the fires of the savage conservation by the fourth sunset, with a fifth day to spare. Haru rallied up the group before they entered.

“Alright guys. You have been month warriors for a week now. Congratulations. I have to say, I’m a little proud of you guys for sticking to it this far. This lifestyle isn’t going to be easy, but we just have to make it work,” the redhead looked out at the camp—a hodgepodge of buildings and tents dotting the horizon, “Before we enter. Let me give you a little bit of a history lesson: The savage conservation is located at the southernmost tip of Solace. Solace is a lot like North America in the sense that it is a country of colonists. Unfortunately, this is the area where the native Solacian population has been pushed to live in isolation from the rest of the continent. And even then, they are not living by their own rules. Monks from the Monastery of the Sun and officers from the nearby military academy impress the religious and societal codes that colonists happily follow onto the natives. The camp is by no means high profile to outsiders. Anyone can walk in. But natives—they can’t really walk out. By consequence, some of you are going to get a few propositions. Natives might try to offer you things—whether they are fake artifacts, indentured servitude, or sexual favors in exchange for leaving the premises with you. You are by no circumstance allowed to entertain any of these tradeoffs. I know that some of you think that you know what you are doing, and that you can do whatever you want—but I’m telling you—we cannot afford to stick our necks in any political scuffles. We are only here to sleep, do you understand? As month warriors, you are supposed to do things for the good of Aires—and you will—but as of now, we cannot let the world know who you are. Until we have been ordained by the Grand Harbinger, we are nothing but imposters, and claiming to be a month warrior without being nationally recognized is a capital crime that is punishable by death. On that note, we will be going for a title appraisal sometime in the future. But we need to get your spirit weapons and begin your training with Ryou in order to make your powers strong enough to be exhibited for a formal judgment.”

Tallyho thought a lot about Haru’s speech. The idea of going to the Rose Kingdom to prove herself to the king and the council and the harbinger was nerve racking, and quite frankly, that was the last thing she wanted to do.

-x-

Haru led the band to the entrance of the camp. Two guards stood—both adorned in native garb, standing like stone men ready to spring to life. White and brown feathers were shrouded in their long dark hair. Their shoulder muscles were tanned and toughened but not nearly as much as their faces which were set in archaic frowns. Behind them was a group of non-native soldiers—two of which held muskets.

Tallyho heard about guns before but she hadn’t actually seen one. A part of her sort of wished that an angry bear would come lumbering out of the woodwork just so she could see it in action. She wondered how hard they were to maintain, or even obtain. They certainly weren’t items that freely fell into market circulation. She heard that most of them hardly ever made it out of the laboratories in Hales. But she supposed that it would make sense if the military had access to them. The other two soldiers stood closer to the entrance, glancing at the group and motioning them closer. They were unarmed.

“Passports?” a guard rumbled. He did not seem particularly happy to see them.

Tallyho looked to Haru with her brows raised. She didn’t even have legal papers. And if she didn’t have papers, there was no way in Aires that any of the earthlings had passports.

“Yes sir,” Haru hummed with a charm. His mouth bent into a sly smile, and the guard caught a glimpse of his sharp K9’s. Haru had pulled many a things out of his coat pockets over the course of this week, but he wasn’t done yet. From his pockets, he pulled a set of fine leather booklets, and handed them to the guard.

“Sorry they are all out of order. Call our names and we will come up if that makes life any easier.”

Having lived for such a long time, it would make sense if guardians knew how to forge legal paperwork. And considering the fact that Arian passports didn’t have photos, the work could be done.

The guard grunted the names of each party member and as they came through, he punched a wax seal onto each of their booklets and handed them their passports. Tallyho gingerly grasped her tiny brown booklet and took a peek inside.

Last Name: Abell First Name: Tallyho
Age: 18
Birthday: 20 February 1673 A.B (After Battle)

Height: 5'4 Eyes: Green Hair: Blonde
Nation: Solace
Seals:

Tallyho pressed her finger against the freshly dried wax seal—the image of two birds at war impressed into its red wax.

All of her information was correct—Haru had certainly done his research. But she wondered how he translated the earthling’s information in order to adapt their backstories to Aires? She imagined that since Harper was older, his birthdate would have been a few years before 1673, and that because of Gwen’s appearance, her nation of origin would have been noted as Eastern Isle. Haru must have done everything right because the guards asked no questions, and soon the entire group was well behind the camp’s timber walls.

“They have some supplies available for purchase so that we can make a little camp. I guess our next move would be to build a couple of tents and head on over to the mound,” Haru said. He perched his weathered palms on his hips and scanned the group.

(For Cirrus: Because of how this post is set up, Haru didn’t get to answer Harper. Assume that he answered no, that there are no gears. :p)

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Ryou Zerinn Character Portrait: Haru Karokav
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"Sorry, Dude," Kyle said quietly when he felt Dorian flinch away from him, and rubbed his own scabbed-over knuckles. He should have known better considering the shape the dark-haired boy was in, but the shorter blond wasn't known for thinking before he did something. He also tended to jump into anything he got involved with wholly and completely, which included this month warrior thing at least for now. They were a team and they would save the world. They just haven't figured out how yet.

Even though he could already tell that Haru and Ryou had different personalities, one thing that they had in common was the speed in which they did things. Would all the guardians be hurrying around like this? Kyle probably needed to step up his workout routine. He did appreciate Ryou pointing out particular booths to get things from, and once they got moving, he filled his rucksack pretty quickly. While munching on a yellow fruit, he quickly glanced over the knives but he saw no need to claim one. He always fought with his fists, no exceptions, and he did already have the Swiss army knife his father gave him.

When they returned to the inn, Kyle sighed. He really wasn't ready to go back inside, but neither did he fancy getting lost in the city. Would they ever get a chance to properly enjoy this other world? He waved to the girls when they also arrived and lingered by the front door a little bit longer before giving in.

-x-

The mead hall looked the same as the tavern, but Kyle thought it might be a little smaller and less crowded. It definitely wasn't as uncomfortably hot, which may or may not have something to do with him leaving his coat behind. After the last time though, he did call and order his food as soon as possible. He still decided to only drink water, but he was able to eat everything on his plate before having to leave.

-x-

It didn't take long for him to get his answer. No, they have no chance to enjoy Aires, and he will probably never get a chance to improve his workout routine either. He didn't even have the 30 minutes to get a workout, but Haru was pretty much working them like dogs anyway. The difference was that after his workouts, Kyle felt like he had more energy. With the pace Haru was going, he felt like he never had any energy whatsoever.

It didn't help that he still struggled with riding a horse. Yes, he was glad he got to keep his Jitterbug, but sometimes that horse was difficult and on two occasions threw him off. Obviously the dapple-grey gelding wasn't any happier with the situation than his human rider. Because of the huge blisters he knew he had on his butt, Kyle didn't even want to get back up after these events, but he had to keep up with the group, his only bloody lifeline.

Four days after they went to the market in Malboro, they finally stopped, and Kyle promptly hopped off the horse. No, he would not stay in that torturous saddle one more minute than he had to. Haru said he was proud of them and the boy's face twitched in what might be a smile, because he really did want someone to say they were proud of him. They survived one week on an alien planet and he at least learned some new skills. That probably was something to be proud of, but he was so tired. His head drooped, but a shiver went down his spine and he smartened up. "What if we can't? What if we can't use powers by the time we go to trial?" His stomach tied up in knots and he didn't want to move. He had never been good at anything, and now he's going to have to prove himself to some stranger?

Jitterbug huffed and stamped next to him, distracting him from misery temporarily. He rubbed the gelding's nose and mumbled, "Yes, you're probably hungry." He brought the horse with him when he heard his name, not yet comprehending that he didn't know the voice that was calling him. Kyle met the speaker and shivered again as he received the little leather-bound thing that he thought was a memo book from a very gruff and unhappy person with a gun. The short blond boy didn't even look at the memo book as he passed through the gate and released Jitterbug to graze. Too anxious now to sleep, and too distracted by the same anxiety to even think of what chores they had that night, he hugged himself and stumbled over to the nearest guardian repeating his question. "What if we can't? The only thing I've ever been good at is fighting. I've never lost a fistfight, but what if I can't..."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Ryou Zerinn Character Portrait: Haru Karokav
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The past week dwelt somewhere in between miserable and not terrible. Harper had experienced worse. And it was more the mind-numbing boredom of travelling and being forced to follow orders by the hoity-toityness that was Haru. Ryou wasn't so bad, with the "Don't Give a Shit" attitude something he could relate to, but he could still be pushy. At least Harper thought so. Still, he wasn't such a stick-in-the-ass like Haru.

To help quell off the boredom, and to make up for the fact that apparently this god-forsaken place didn't have anything mechanical, Harper had carved his own gears out of the chair. When he wasn't yukking it up with someone or making fun of everyone, Harper would spend hours on the horse, carving and chiseling and cursing at the wood. Many times the piece he'd be working on would break, and he had lost count how many splinters he'd received. Sanding was the worst.

Yet, by the fourth day he'd finished carving all the necessary gears, and just as they arrived at the gate, he'd finally put all of them together, fashioning a wooden horse (what with so much exposure to the large animals, it didn't take him long to figure out how they moved) out of the makeshift mechanical parts. He had barely put the last piece on when he heard his name.

"Eh?!" he asked, prairie-dogging his head up, and a small book was shoved into his hand befor he was shuffled through the gate. Stuffing the book and the horse into his pockets, he looked around at his surroundings with wide-eyes, so engrossed in putting together the horse earlier that the camp, which was visible from a considerable distance, looked completely novel to him. He hurried his pace up to match Haru's, not wanting to get lost in this somewhat unfriendly looking place...like a ghetto...what did Haru say about this camp again? He had been too zoned out to pay attention.

Kyle started whining about fighting, and Harper laughed, his previous woes about his surroundings vanishing, "That's one-up you've got on me," he told the kid, "I've never won a fistfight." Growing bored again, he roamed his eyes around for Skylar. The two had bonded pretty well in the past week, and she seemed to be the only person who would willingly talk to him because she wanted to, and not just out of politeness.

Spotting her, he hunched over and started stalking towards her, snapping his fingers and whistling the Jets theme from West Side Story. "Pow!" he shouted with a grin as he whipped the horse out of his pocket, pointing it towards her. With a laugh he straightened up. "Ah, if only the world worked like a musical...then I could aggressively dance my problems away. Anyways, check out the horse I made!" he handed her the wooden animal gingerly, hoping all the little wooden parts would stick together. "Told you I'd turn all those wood chips into something! Only problem now is figuring out how to make the legs work."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Ryou Zerinn Character Portrait: Autumn Jones Character Portrait: Haru Karokav
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For Dorian the day passed without incident as he made the semi-familiar circuit around the stalls, watching the other boys browse over items and glance at the crowds swarming around them. He didn't speak because there were no real words to say that wouldn't come off as stiff and disingenuous. 'So, how do you like Aires?' 'See anything interesting?' They all seemed like awkward pleasantries that didn't quite fit into the situation, so he kept silent and let the cacophony of sound whirl around him as he followed these strangers, his apparent teammates, around. He looked like a grim specter at the front of the group, determinedly never falling into the back despite the occasional minute grimace of pain that flashed across his features.

Meeting up with the rest of the group only served to make him feel all the more awkward and out of place, but it wasn't too bad. They were strangers, yes, but they were basically acquaintances, even friends in an entire world of strangers. There were the passing questions and more than a few sidelong glances from the state he was in(and, unbeknownst to him, because he tended to attract a good deal of bad attention even when dressed to the nines), but that was it for the most part. After all, for them it had only been a day since they'd seen the March warrior. Time, he'd long since decided when Ryou broke the news to him about just how long he'd been gone, was incredibly funny like that. And by funny, of course, he meant awful.

The first incident happened in the mead hall. Dorian had to marvel at the packed room, filled to the brim with people just as dirty as he was and more than perfectly content with the fact unlike the New Yorker. The aroma of food, however, overwhelmed anything that could offend as plate after plate of food was spread out before them. Let it be known that Dorian was something of a food aficionado, being the son of a famous chef, but the spread before him was more appetizing to his starving body than any five star meal had been before and he tucked in with a gusto. That lasted all of eight or so minutes when he abruptly stopped devouring the meal in front of him, stood up just as suddenly, and quickly made his way outside the mead hall, weaving through the crowd. The cool night air was like a soothing balm after the heat and noise within the building, but that certainly didn't stop Dorian from finding the nearest alley and vomiting out the entirety of his dinner, retching until there was nothing left in his stomach despite it still churning.

He gagged slightly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and taking deep breaths as he leaned against a wall for support. He really shouldn't have eaten that much or that quickly, but he'd been so hungry--- He waited outside for another few minutes before risking the return to the hall, back to the table. Ryou didn't say anything, simply switching out whatever drink he'd been given for water, a look of understanding crossing his golden eyes. Ryou, however, wasn't the only one to notice because that night marked the beginning of what Dorian privately liked to call his "Autumn problem".

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The days following were hard for everyone as they trekked all day and were generally too tired to do much else than make camp and sleep during the night. He'd found a razor in the meantime and managed to shave off his shaggy beard, but it only served to make him look like less of a wild man and more gaunt and grim, which, considering his usual features were just as unnerving, was a bit of an improvement. Some bruises faded over time, others stayed persistently and some deeper ones grew uglier as the days went on. Still, he persisted, clinging to his horse during the day(it wasn't all that different from his motorcycle, he unsuccessfully tried to lie to himself) and making use of himself during the night. However, he never strayed far from camp, always staying within eyesight of the main site when doing chores.

Without any further prompting from teammates to encourage him, Dorian had yet to tell his story, but it must have had something to do with the way he woke up in sweats every night and had to wander around camp for a minute or two just to make sure everyone was still there, like some Hellish night watchdog looming over the camp. Some people noticed his behavior, of course. Ryou did, he was always good at that, but he didn't say anything and never verbally offered help apart from never assigning Dorian to go off on his own when it came to delegating tasks. Autumn did as well, and he was certainly more persistent about helping than Ryou. There wasn't a day that went by that she wasn't asking after him, disturbingly always ready by his side when he felt sick with an offer of water or a towel pressed into his face when he woke up some nights. It would have been sweet, he supposed, if it wasn't just as irritating.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dorian had quickly realized that the quickest way to survive on Aires was to listen to Haru. Well, Ryou too, but Haru took charge more often than not when it came to making sure no one did anything stupid. Haru's speech was a way of reminding Dorian just how little he knew of the planet he was on. They were just visitors, with the exception of the two Guardians and Tallyho, tourists from another world who hadn't done their reading before visiting. The pleading for them to keep their mouths shut about the month warrior thing made sense as well because it was a delicate piece of information that one wouldn't want to go throwing around, flaunting it as a sign of status and power. He really didn't think about having to show any signs of power yet; instead, he followed behind, collecting his forged passport when his name was called. The information was correct, to an extend. It had the right age, name, birthdate(well, not year), and general physical information, but it also claimed he was from Hales, wherever that was.

Ryou was, at the time, playing the role of sweeper as he had for most of the journey, herding the children from behind with his general amiability to make sure any stragglers kept up with the group. So, of course, it was Ryou that Kyle found his way over to with anxiety clear in his voice.

"Hey now," Ryou said, patting the smaller boy on the shoulder with his trademark grin lighting up his face. "Don't worry, okay? I'll make sure that you're all ready when the time comes, no exceptions. It's my job, after all. Well, one of them…" He trailed off before shrugging and beaming again. "You'll be fine." And with that, he sauntered back to his place at Haru's side, an extra spring in his step. Whether that be his natural energy coming through or his excitement at the promise of visiting the mound, one could never tell.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Aria Delaine Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel
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Some of the other warriors didn’t seem very adamant about helping to set up camp. Tallyho—wanting to get the dirty work done, stuck to following Haru and Ryou around. Completing any duties they needed done: holding up tent spines, hammering down stakes. The end products were a little crude, but they looked like they could hold up for a few days.

Haru took a seat behind one of the tents and dug through his coat pockets for a lighter and a carton of cigarettes—both instruments clearly being from earth. The redhead hunched over as he lit this treat. The sudden burst of warmth bringing a brief pleasure. Haru hadn’t really thought much about what other Arian’s thought of his earthly addiction. As long as they didn’t see his lighter he was fine—and besides—it wasn’t uncommon for locals to find a bunch of herbs, wrap them in rice paper, and light them up with wooden matches. So as far as his cigarettes were concerned, the other Airans could just mistake them for very expensive smokes.

Because they were pretty much settled in for the night, Tallyho decided that she would have a walk. The stress of travelling in a large group really took a toll on her. If she were able to handle it, she would have continued leading the life she led years before.
Without much of a warning, she began a slow meander to the forest boxed in at the outskirts of the camp. She figured that she would end her walk once she reached the conservation barriers then turn around. After all, from an aerial view, the natives were only allowed a limited amount of green space, so she hadn’t expected her walk to last for too long.

Haru was very right about the propositions she received from the natives. But she was prepared—bowing her head at every witch doctor’s promise, turning her back on any woman with suckling baby sashed across her chest and a plea for freedom. And though she fully empathized with their anxieties of being restrained in a gross captivity, she couldn’t allow herself to fall into any ultimately misfortunate adventures. When she finally reached the forest area, it was a breath of fresh air—quite literally. The scent of burning sage left her nostrils, and her senses were accosted by the essence of green.

What was green?

Visions of wild ivy laced with elderberry. The scent of freshly watered forest and warm black dirt. An overwhelming humidity that dampened the blonde’s skin until she felt dewy from the outside in.

She slipped off her newly purchased sandals and braced her toes in the soil. The pricks of fallen twigs did not evoke pain, but an open admiration for natural texture. This was what Tallyho liked. She continued on, creating a path that dwindled between oak and stump alike, enjoying the growing quiet. The birds were saying their final goodbyes before disappearing for rest. The February warrior was left with nothing but the wheezes of her rising chest. She found a resting place by way of a large, mossy boulder and strewed herself onto it like a dress out to dry—back falling into a comfortable arc. With her belly towards the rising moon she began to breathe, allowing the air to run its course through her lungs. From hot breath came the stress of the past week.

After moments spent relaxing, the blonde decided to make her trip back to the camp. There was a buzzing in her body. A buzzing that made her feel like her knee caps were exploding with static—that her legs were going to give out like those of a doe shot dead. She bent over and ran firm palms down her shins—a furious massage until the pain subsided. She continued walking soon however, vaguely aware of the leaf crunching going on a distance away. She hadn’t wanted any wild animal encounters and she feared that it was a wolf. When she made it out of the brush the same stinging sensation ran through her legs once more. She wondered if she had been bitten by a snake but she saw no marks. Ignoring it for the moment, the girl made her way back to the camp where she found Haru fumbling over a campfire, a slight limp trespassing on the usual swagger of his walk.

“What happened to you?” Tallyho asked as she approached from the side.

“Lumber on my foot,” the redhead grunted. He hadn’t expanded on it, not really being one to complain about physical ailments so early in the game. He had to set an example—if he could keep quiet with a busted foot, then the warriors could stand to walk a mile without complaining.

“What are we—“

“Chicken.”

Tallyho raised her brow and looked away. Obviously the cat guardian wasn’t in a talking mood so she wondered where the other warriors spent their time. She noticed that they seemed to be breaking off into little social circles over the course of the week, and while she could have argued that she felt left out, she wasn’t very positive that they would care all that much. The friendships seemed superficial to her anyway, friendship was superficial, she didn’t need it, “I don’t need it,” she hummed.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“First chicken’s ready,” Haru yelled—a summon for the group to come eat.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Aria Delaine Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel
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Two things surprised him after or during his anxiety attack. One: Harper behaved somewhat civilly and didn't insult him about his anxiety, but he wasn't sure if it was really a nice thing to say. "It isn't all it's cracked up to be," he mumbled. His record before arriving in Aires wasn't something he was proud of. There were few things that actually did make him proud of himself. So he really had a personal investment in this month warrior thing. He needed to prove himself to himself as well as this strange Harbringer person. The boy swallowed as he got his second surprise in his anxiety attack. Ryou touched his shoulder.

It was a very small gesture, but it did something to him. So far the only person that touched Kyle at all was Jason, and that was the only thing that annoyed him about Jason. The goofy southern kid was fun to be around and nice, but Kyle always wanted to push him away when he leaned on his shoulder. Ryou on the other hand, he didn't want to push away. He looked up to the golden eyes and gave a sad smile and slight nod. Ryou would make sure they succeeded, including the boy who was considered a juvenile delinquent at only eight years old. Kyle hadn't spent any prison time, but for half his life a lot of people were waiting for a reason to lock him up. He could feel it and sometimes even see it in their eyes when they looked at him. Ryou turned away to join Haru and Kyle ran full force into a wall where he could have his own meltdown alone, and do his best not to bother anyone else, unlike Harper on day one.

Fortunately, Kyle's rather erratic behavior kept the natives from bothering him too much, even after he regained his composure. He combed his long hair back and reset his simple ponytail, before getting up so he wouldn't look like a madman. When he finally turned back to the camp, he heard Haru call them to eat, and the shorter blond boy slumped next to the fire. Uncharacteristically, he had nothing to say. He didn't really feel that hungry either, but he figured it was in their best interests to take advantage of what they had. Two chickens and fourteen people. It wasn't much, but he picked one up, by the skewer stick holding it of course, and tore a piece or two off; and then passed it on to the person next to him.

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Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Ryou Zerinn Character Portrait: Haru Karokav Character Portrait: Jason Carter
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#, as written by rikura
Haru had them both riding and working hard for the entire trip. The pace was much faster than it had been during their previous journey, which he was fine with, but after a while, even Jason was getting sore and tired of riding. The chores Haru had them do around the camp weren't really that bad either. The problem arose, however, from how little time they got to rest. Really, the only times they seemed to stop were when the horses were about to break. He was at least glad for that.
Jason tried to make the best of things by turning whatever job he had for the day into a game. That worked for maybe three of the days before his brain was too tired to be very creative. He tried to check up on some of the others every day, usually whoever had the same job as him that day, and despite any negative responses he may have gotten, it didn't stop him from trying.

Sleep he always welcomed. It was actually his favorite part of the day, which really didn't match his personality, but with how Haru was driving them it was no surprise.

When they finally arrived at their destination, Jason was beyond glad, and he could tell that the others were relieved as well. Haru's speech about the natives, what would happen in the future, and the proving of themselves kind of dampened the relieved mood a bit for him, though. He dismounted, patting his horse, Delia he'd named her, on the neck.
The sight of guns didn't do much for him, either, yet everything he was seeing combined with what Haru had told them only made him curious about the workings of this place. It really made him want to talk to the natives, but he figured that would only get him into to trouble with, well, everyone. When he heard his name called, along with his birthday, though the year was strange, he walked up and took his pass, a tad hesitant about the whole thing at first, but shrugged off his unease and followed the others into the new place.

After overhearing Kyle's and Ryou's little exchange, Jason moved his eyes around the town, examining the place and people as he walked. At the sight of their group, the natives displayed a wide range of emotions, the greatest, though, Jason could read in their eyes was hope. A false hope that would never be fulfilled. He avoided looking at anyone else. In a situation like this, with people being forced to stay here when their only crime was being born as a native to this land... it really went against his moral conscience to ignore them. There was nothing he could do, though. Not now, anyways. Maybe things could change if their group succeeded...

His thoughts on the issue continued, the whole situation with the natives and the politics and such didn't sit well with him at all. Jason remained silent and somewhat rigid all the way until they were gathering to eat after Haru called "First chicken's ready," and it seemed that the natives had sensed his unnaturally dark and gloomy mood. Only one person had tried to approach him, and the way Jason immediately avoided any contact, (eye contact, physical contact, and vocal contact) seemed to work extremely fast in causing them to begin to avoid him.

He was able to help them, but couldn't. He didn't like to see people's hopes crushed; he'd already seen too much of that in his life. With a bit of realization, he almost laughed at himself as he sat down near the others. He'd already decided that he wouldn't be too serious about anything anymore, and yet he was being all depressed about something he couldn't change.

He shook his head, clearing it of any negative thoughts that lingered before grinning a bit as he took the chicken from Kyle, tearing some off before passing it on. "Thanks for the food," he commented, trying to distract himself, "I wonder how long the training will take..."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Aria Delaine Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel
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All the synonyms for hate ran through her mind; abhor, distaste, distrust, dislike, etc. The rides were getting too long, the brunette was getting saddle-sore even before the trip was barely up. She was sick and tired and just all around done with putting up the 'flirtsy, cutesy, friendly' act. Now was the time to drop the theater mask, and pick up the face she wore when no-one bothered to care. A scowl etched itself on her face, her lips were covered in sores from all the biting on them she had done. Lux Adair was no more trying to be 'friendly' and work her way around to the top. This was not her high school. This was not her turf; most importantly, this was not her place in the sun. The actress had rested on her laurels long enough.

Sweat trickled down her back, sticking what clothes she wore to her skin. It itched, it stung, and she was certain a rash was going to break out on more than one region of her body. Spitting out what saliva had pooled in her mouth, the brunette stiffly got off her mount the moment she was able. Only to wheel around and face the disaster that was the camp. Her scowl deepened, a sneer twisted up that pretty little mouth of hers, and she was in her full element now.

"Are those piles of cloth and sticks supposed to be our tents?!" The comment was supposed to come as a soft whisper. That was not the case. Instead, it came out as a rough, searing comment, as if it had rested on the tip of her tongue during the whole ride to this dump. Rolling her neck, Lux threw a seething glare at anyone that dared to look at her for the time being. She was supposed to help people like this? Yeah. Right. The young Adair knew that, if she was to keep whatever plot she was brewing up, she would have to play on the 'apologetic, tired' young woman act later. Right now? She just wanted to eat, sleep, and get going on with the training before she decided to rip out someone's spine.

Grabbing what food was offered to her, she plunked herself down on the ground farther away from the others. Not bothering for manners, Lux ate as fast as she could. With each bite, her seething grew. With each swallow, she was certain she was going to plain out burst from having to hide any longer. This was going on long enough. She wanted to scream, to shout, to throw the biggest hissy fit she could. The food tasted horrendous. Lux could feel her stomach churning; upsetting with each meager piece of mashed up matter that slithered its way down her dry throat. She was relentless, coughing perhaps once or twice as god-knows-what slid down the 'wrong tube'. Adair hoped to whatever higher power that was ruling this forsaken land that her 'guardian' or whatever, was going to at least take it easy on her for being a woman. Or, perhaps, agreeing with her on the insidious plot she was formulating.

Lux Adair was going to mark her territory now. Nothing, and literally nothing, was going to stand in her way. Sure, her high school empire would crumble. But this, this was a bigger game. A higher crown. Something that she coveted, and it pleased nothing more than her little black heart to think about gaining. Sure, she'd have to make some enemies, and crush a few views on her. Lux didn't care. She was done with all of these sniveling, pathetic, and lesser-than-her people. A huff let the girl as she mused to herself. Any one who was brave enough to approach would get a severe chewing out. She was done with today.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Aria Delaine Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel
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Bloody hell. So much for stepping out of his comfort zone for the “good” of group: so that they might get a move on through this maddeningly busy marketplace, grab the basics they needed, and quickly get back to the inn so they could continue surviving out of harm’s way relatively. It took more than a few moments for most to even understand what he’d said, despite him attempting to not maul the words too badly. Some had even been shocked into silence by his thick growling accented voice, scared even perhaps. Others were merely ecstatic that he had an awesome accent, especially the Spaniard, Xabier, Falke could assume was no doubt thrilled that he wasn’t the only European stuck in a group of primarily Americans (and the one Airian) and could likewise understand his struggle with the English language. Fei.

“Ah, um, yeah. Sounds good, partner…” Falke was most certainly not anyone’s partner. However, he didn’t bother raising any ruckus over complaining about it, because that wasn’t really him (despite being particularly annoyed) and he was almost ‘pleasantly’ surprised by the southern American fellow’s accent. He had a fair handle on English, but because the other spoke so ‘slow’ – it was easier to understand the whole sentence, instead of just the beginning, middle, or end, which was sort of nice he guessed. “Okay, dried food, water, clothes, hygiene. Okay, nothing special there. We can do that.” Haru hadn’t caught that he’d mentioned Clothes, but had got the basics of what he said. And it seemed he had the right idea enough that the guardian had wholeheartedly agreed with the things he’d listed. Before they could get a move on, like he fully expected them to do, a new voice entered with words of agreement: ”Clothes, food, water, hygiene… I’d say that’s a good plan if I’ve ever heard one.” His eyes, while lazy looking compared to others, snapped in the general direction of the man that honestly unnerved him a little by the complete stranger’s commanding voice that praised him for his “plan”, that had eavesdropped on the group, and suddenly appeared within their ranks – pleased to have gotten the jump on them.

The man was soon named as Ryou, and was another guardian of a different month than Haru. He had returned Dorian to the group again, that had taken some portal side-trip than the rest of them. There was much rejoicing and greeting flying about. And finally… Finally, they got a move on through the market – acquiring the things they needed, before heading back to the inn. A civilized dinner at the mead-hall and a slightly more comfortable night of sleep, hadn’t prepared for the brutal reality of the following days…

---

Five days… Non-stop riding: In that by the third day Falke had found some spare rope attached to his saddle and wrapped it around his mid-section and the horned pommel to help keep him on the blighted horse – it was death wish he knew if something extreme happened like the horse flipped over and he couldn’t get off, but he wasn’t keen on falling over after accidentally over-correcting himself like he tended to do just to keep up with the movement of the beast. Helping make camp after a full day of trampling through the hot, dry, grassy plains, wasn’t anyone’s idea of a fantastic time but Falke helped, or well, er, attempted to help. Quite often he was sent to do a tediously simple task not far from camp (or even past its boundaries really), or just standing in place and holding stuff for others, or ‘just sit there and stay’; sometimes it was a mixture of all three in one night. “Free-time” afterward, he usually just slept when given that extra time – waking up for a meager dinner, and then crashing again.

Falke, and he didn’t doubt the others too, felt like he’d been run-over, eaten, and spit-out, all at the same time by so-called ‘destiny’ of being a month warrior. His mother would be putting him in a wash bucket normally reserved for the dog outside (whilst running indoors to grab the shampoo and cleaning supplies), and his grandmother was likely rolling in her grave; because both being Putzfimmel, they wouldn’t stand his current lack of cleanliness in the slightest. And despite already being blind with a general lack of balance anyway, he felt like he was some Alkoholleichen 24/7 – others had even noticed, and he had already received the ‘hey, the horses are this way’ more than once to his inner disgust. He hadn’t complained once throughout it all, and it was like he ever complained out loud either - his annoyed ticks of his mouth had faded into a perpetual neutral line (almost a frown, sort-of), was about the most he ever did even when right at the breaking point and now he was just too tired to care.

He listened intently to Haru’s speech before heading into the Savage Conversation. While he still was attempting to struggle with the destiny pill shoved down his throat, vaguely playing with the growingly faint possibility in the back of his mind that he’d wake up from this bloody dream soon. Having to go prove yourself to someone so they didn’t chop of your head for being a ‘month warrior’ was quite frankly the last thing he wanted to do ever: He was quite fond of his neck remaining to be there; and of course showing off ‘super-powers’ he was supposed to have to some group of people that would decide his (and his necks) fate, was more than a little nerve-racking. But he supposed he could at least appreciate the warning to not flaunt about his or the others supposed month-warrior-ish.

“Fa-luke?” The guard grunted, and Falke stepped forward as one of the last to head through the gate and collected his passport warily as he stepped through. He couldn’t quite argue with the man’s pronunciation, being that he doubted Aires had a ‘Germany’ or Germanic type of language and he honestly felt like a ‘fluke’ in the long run – because really, was there ever a story of a blind man saving the world? No? He didn’t think so. He was genuinely surprised however, when he grasped his tiny brown booklet feeling bumps not uncommon to Braille on its front cover; and could place it as being a way of a person with a condition like his having help in being able to determine their passport from a wallet (that wasn’t a bad of jingling coins) or other paperwork/books you’d have shoved in your pockets. He didn't take a peak at it's inside contents, but most of it was truthful - minus his birth-year, and his nation of The Rose Kingdom - but good enough that the guards didn't throw a fuss at his or anyone's passports.

---

Falke had been helping set up camp, until an exasperated voice telling him, "We've got it. Just set that pile down there. Why don't you go unsaddle the horses..." After holding an arm-full of firewood for Ryou and Haru as they made a fire to cook dinner and for warmth on the nights a brief chill tickled the night air, and a piece had tumbled out of his grasp as someone grabbed another from the top of the pile. He didn't think it had hit anyone, or landed on someone's foot, but it was clear that again for the fifth night in a row he was being shunted off to another task to be out of the way. It wasn't that he minded doing the horses, but it was certainly frustrating and not to mention embarrassing for accidentally messing things up every night.

He'd just finished unsaddle the last horse on it's grazing line beside their haphazardly yet up tents, when dinner was called. The beast giving him a happy bump of it's head for him removing the sweaty, itchy mound of leather and strings that had been attached to it's back, before resuming munching on its' dinner for the night. He hauled the saddle and blanket back to the pile of all the others, where they would wait until morning for them to saddle up and begin another day's hard riding. And then took his water canteen to splash the sweat and grime off his finger-tips, before staggering to sit down by the fire with the rest of the lot.

He tore off a bit of white chicken when it was handed to him, before passing it on to the next. Falke hated to have anything under his finger-nails, it gave him the creeps quite literally. But too tired to care, hungry, and four nights before eating the same way; he ignored his inner 'yuck', the grease and meat getting under his nails, and ate his dinner without complaint. It was better than nothing at the very least...

*Putzfimmel - A mania for cleaning.
* Alkoholleichen - A wandering, drunk/alcoholic corpse.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Aria Delaine Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel
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Everyone seemed to be filled with a tension that filled the surrounding area like a dark grey fog threatening to consume everything.
Xabier had stayed silent for the journey. He had hoped to gain some sort of understanding with his bearings. However all he could figure out was that they were travelling further and further from home.
Inwardly he wondered if he could go to sleep soon. Tiredness had consumed him and he absolutely detested those damned horses. He had fallen off several times and never really seemed to get the hang of riding the horse. When he had finally gotten somewhere he was so delighted he had yelled over to the others.

"Look,look I'm driving the horse! ¡Mira aquí!" Waving his hands and grinning like a little child.
The others had laughed at something and Xabier wasn't sure what it was,but he liked the sound of laughter.
Seconds later he fell off the horse again. For the rest of the journey he concentrated on trying to stay on the horse.
When they arrived he looked around at his surroundings in horror. His family had money,lots and lots of money. Even when he returned to his mother's home village in Bilbao he had never had to live in anywhere like this. He didn't speak. There was no words in English to describe how he felt. And something told him not to speak in Spanish. It would only be dangerous for someone to notice him. Everyone was moving around in silence until his stomach rumbled loudly. A few heads turned in his direction.
Dammit,he thought,so much for not drawing attention to himself.

He accepted some of the chicken gratefully. It was bland at best. If he had the ingredients he would've experimented with the flavours a little. Still bland food is better than starvation.
"Gracia-I mean...thank you Haru." He smiled lightly. He patted Falke on the shoulder as he passed him. He was so delighted that he had a new buddy that his mood improved visibly.
Instinctively he had checked that Falke and the others had eaten some chicken first before taking his own small share. At home he always had to wait until everyone else was served before he could eat his own dinner. Today his hunger got the better of him. Mid-chew,he smiled up at the dark haired girl nearest to him. He remembered that her name was Lux and she had been friendly before. He hoped that maybe he could strike up a conversation.

She sat across from him with a face like thunder. Even with the culture barrier he knew that she wasn't happy. He studied her face,trying to determine what she was feeling. He could tell she found the surroundings as distasteful as he did. She glared at the ground miserably. Xabier turned away sheepishly. He didn't want to approach her anymore.
Xabier had his own thoughts to deal with. And even then,he dealt with it privately.
He'd have to find a companion elsewhere.
Skylar called across to Lux. “Hey, princess- you alright over there?”
Was she being friendly or picking a fight? Xabier didn't know.
Americans were always so strange in their ways. Especially American girls. They said one thing when they really meant something else.

"Hey," he nodded over to Autumn. She seemed to be on edge ever since she had disappeared briefly earlier on. He had noticed her absence,though he pretended that he didn't.
It wasn't the time for that.
"Are you alright?" However bad he was at dealing with traders or horses,Xabier understood the symptoms when someone wasn't feeling okay.
He couldn't help but feeling worried for her. She appeared to be a genuinely nice person.


*mira aquí - look here