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Jiu Huson

"The right thing is usually the one you don't want to do."

0 · 159 views · located in Calisma

a character in “Calisma”, as played by Tainted Twinkee

Description

Full Name: Jiu (Jee-Oh) Huson

Gender: Male

Age: 27

Height: 5'3”

Class Monk

Skills: Jiu has learned a variety of martial arts, normally preferring drunken forms over more conventional styles. Years of discipline have made his body strong and limber.

Weakness(es): A fondness for drinking and poor impulse control tends to get him into trouble.

Equipment: Cane, drinking gourd.

Personal Quote: “Doing the right thing is hard. It will wear you out, beat you down and leave you hurting. But when you look at what you've done, suddenly it was all worth it.”

Description: Jiu could pass as a particularly tall elf on vacation, in that he's short and lean with a slight tan. His face is angular with a narrow jaw and skin so smooth that months can pass without a hint of facial hair. He wears his dark and silky hair in a tight, cloth covered bun, but leaves a long strip free on either side of his face. He wears a loose grey robe over cloth wrappings, bound at the waste with a black sash and loose pants that disappear below the knee under more cloth wrapping.

Personality: Childish, hotheaded and little too eager for a fight, Jiu has done a lot to fight monk stereotypes, but he does try to do the right thing. He'll be the first to help a stranger or give an enemy the benefit of a doubt. He firmly believes that there's good in everybody, sometimes it just takes a few concussions to bring it out.

History: Jiu's family had been farming along the Serpentines for generations upon generations and someday he'd be expected to raise little farmers of his own. Every night he'd pray that he could leave the farm to become a great heroes like he'd hear about in stories. A fierce knight, a cunning mage, anything but a farmer.

And lo, did the gods answer his prayers, kind of. A bandit raiding party rode through, taking whatever they could carry and killing anyone they crossed paths with. His mother hid him away before they found her.

With only the clothes on his back, Jiu ran for a day and a night before collapsing on the road. A passing monk roused him, giving him food and drink to recover. Jiu told him what happened. The monk listened and asked Jiu what he would do now. He told the monk that he wanted revenge. The monk nodded and asked him how he would do it. When he was older he'd go back and kill them he said. Again the monk nodded and asked what he would do until then. Jiu admitted that he didn't know. So the monk invited him to join the Yulan Monastery. Seeing little other choice, Jiu agreed.

At first Jiu worked begrudgingly under the monk, Li Choy. He would tend to chores every morning and spend the afternoons on lessons. The only reason he stayed, he kept telling himself, was that in the evenings Li would teach him martial arts.

As the years drifted by, the Yulan monks became his new family and his thoughts of revenge gradually faded.

Unfortunately, Li grew ill with time. He passed two things to Jiu before he died; his cane that had belonged to his master before him, and a command. Jiu was to leave the monastery and learn about the world so that he may one day return to teach others.

So begins...

Jiu Huson's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jiu Huson
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“My mother was a saint!”

“I'm sure she was,”
Jiu said. “But with a head as large as yours, there are certain implications.”

The hooligan took a swing at him. Jiu swayed to the side, popped his came up hooking him behind the neck, pulled him forward and kneed him square in the stomach. While the hooligan was double over, Jiu stamped down on his foot and at the same time jerked down on the cane so that he fell flat on his face.

“Was that really necessary?” Jiu asked after perching himself on the hooligan's back.

“Gerrerffrme,”
he grunted into the dirt.

“Sorry?”

“ERFF!”
he heaved himself over, spilling Jiu off.

Jiu tumbled, rolling back on to his feet.

Panting, the hooligan hefted himself back up and lunged forward. Jiu ducked under his arm, hooked the cane around his ankle and kicked his rear so that he fell flat again.

“Are you done yet?” Jiu asked.

The hooligan grumbled.

“Pardon?”

“Yeah...”

“Would you like to get a drink?”

“...Yeah.”


And so the two being wise in the ways of the inaffluent, found themselves in the seediest bar they could find and got themselves pleasantly smashed over the course of the next few hours.

“Look, I have'ta apologize 'bout what I said about your mum before,”
Jiu admitted.

“A'ferget it. She was a cunt.”


Jiu nodded somberly and took a sip of the godawful piss they had been served. “What time is it?”

The hooligan squinted, thinking. “When'd we get here?”

“M'not sure. Morning-ish?”

“Probably noonish, then.”


Another nod and sip. “Anythin' to do round town?”

“There's drinkin', an' workin' and drinkin' after workin'. Not much else 'less yer one of those rich fooks from uptown. Heard their avin' themselfs serm kinda dress up party fer the prince or some'at. Buncha them 'venturerers are goin' too.”

“Oh? Seems everybody's been talkin' 'bout them lately.”

The hooligan nodded this time.

“Listen,” Jiu patted him on the shoulder. “I gotta be goin'. Things to do and what not. Thanks for the drink.”

“Anytime, friend.”

It wasn't until some time afterwards that he realized the monk hadn't paid.


Later that day, spending what remained of it sobering up, Jiu approached the palace gates. He had pulled the back of his robe over his head as a hood, used one of his leg wrappings as a mask, and leaned heavily on his cane as if his leg were injured.

The gatekeeper was not impressed.

“Hello, I'm here for the party.”
Jiu said.

“You're invitation?”

“I seem to have lost in on my way here, but I'm sure you'll find me on the list. Duke Evinrude of Talsina.”

“I'm afraid you're not on the list,” the gatekeeper said with the practiced veiled animosity of someone who has to deal with a constant stream of people in their work.

“You didn't even look.”

“I didn't have to.”

“Look, it's been a long day. I spent a week traveling here, my carriage broke down yesterday and I had to hobble all the way here despite my leg. I didn't even have time to prepare a proper costume.”
Jiu motioned to his outfit. “I am rather proud of it though. I'm supposed to be the monk that helped the prince.”

“The monk is a woman.”

“Well I didn't have the assets,”
he groped at his own chest, “to make it a complete costume. Now if you'd be so kind as to let me through?”

“I can not.”

“This is outrageous! My father fought in the Sortelige wars for this country! He defeated the dread wizard Caltinar who plagued the northern regions for decades!”


“Caltinar? What did he do?”

“Kept to himself mostly, kept a lot of goats.”

“And these goats were killing everyone, I suppose?”

“What? No. They're goats. But they ate a lot of grass and there wasn't much left for anyone else's herd. Well most people survived on subsistence farming, so they didn't have much livestock to begin with. But there was utter havoc when the goats got into the laundry!”

“Sir, please. There are people waiting.”
He motioned to the line forming behind Jiu.

“Of course there are. You're wasting everyone's time, asking for history lessons. Things would move much more smoothly if you'd just let people in.”


The gatekeeper sighed. “I can not simply let everyone inside.”

“Nobody's saying that. All you need to do is let a simple duke in to bump elbows with his peers. Who's even going to notice that I'm not on the list?”

Clearly growing frustrated, the gatekeeper told him, “If you can refrain from any activities that would be untoward of the nobility, then you may enter.”

“Wouldn't dream of it,”
Jiu patted him on his way in.

Sadly, he decided against have himself announced. Instead slipping into the crowd with little fanfare. He grabbed a glass of something off a passing server's tray. It was a significant improvement over godawful piss.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Senalae Errion Character Portrait: Emma Armelle Character Portrait: Jiu Huson
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#, as written by Script
”I’d be happy to assist you in putting together a reputable wardrobe in the future, Lady Armelle.”

Oh, but Emma could sense the discomfort behind the Princess' words. True, the smile never faltered, but it was in the eyes that the royal lady's whirring thoughts were fleetingly visible. Doubts, concerns, disapprovals. Emma drew perhaps a little too much enjoyment from seeing Senalae mentally reason herself around to an amiable reply. "Ah, but doesn't every courtroom need a sprinking of disreputability to keep the balance, your majesty? Can't have us all tripping over the folds of our dresses in the event of an unforeseen Tommyknocker insurgency, after all." With a light chuckle, Emma inclined her head. "But of course, you are busy. I'll let you get along with appeasing the gentry while I busy myself amassing a poor reputation. Entirely unintentionally, of course, I'm just being realistic as to the inevitable outcome."

And with that, the roughly clad woman turned on heel and swept away. For all her ignoble attire, her stride and posture carried with them a prideful confidence that almost made up for it. Almost. Flatly ignoring any eyes upon her, Emma chose to focus her attention instead on what was unquestionably far more important - the tables of food. Paltry little snacks, such was the palette of the nobility, but that just meant you could eat more of them.

Jiu hadn't been quite sure what he was expecting of the ball, but it failed to live up to any of the expectations he had made up shortly after arriving. Everyone was just standing around talking as if the whole event had been arranged as an excuse for everyone to dress up as ridiculously as possible.

After a few meandering laps around the room he found himself stuffing his face with the practiced delicacy of a count. Duke, he reminded himself.

Emma sauntered up to the table of auderves a few feet down from Jiu, eyes sweeping across the various treats and snacks that were arrayed upon dainty little plates for all to sample. Selecting a plate of savoury pastries, Emma deftly took up a trio of them and tossed them one by one into her mouth in a decidedly improper fashion - namely, from several feet away. At least she was accurate. She caught the eye of a finely dress couple who were giving her a pair of disapproving glares. "What?" she demanded whilst still chewing on the food, before swallowing to continue. "Did I get some on my face? No? Didn't your mothers ever teach you it's rude to stare? Tsk, and I'm supposed to be the one who doesn't know ettiquette here."

As the disgruntled lord and lady retreated away, Emma leaned casually back on the table and glanced across at Jiu. "You just can't get the nobility these days." she remarked, rolling her eyes.

”That'd imply you'd want nobility of any sort,” Jiu managed between bites. ”Unlike these little fairy pies. They're tiny, but it's better than no pie at all.” After a moment he remembered where he was. ”Not that we don't need nobles. I mean we're all nobles here, except for everyone who isn't.”

He stuffed another pie in his face before he could say anything else.

"A notable exception," Emma replied with a small smirk, "It's rather rare they host one of these things where anyone without at least a wedding cake's worth of frills is allowed in. Maybe it will become a theme with the soon-to-be new king, a scattering of rough-and-ready adventurers at every gathering like this, just to spice it up a bit." She glanced over at the spot where the monk had briefly engaged the guards in combat, "Or a lot, if we're lucky. It'll do this lot some good to have their feathers ruffled. Quite literally in the case of some of these outfits."

Chuckling, she turned to offer a hand to the stranger. "Emma Armelle, it's a pleasure."

Grinning, Jiu nearly took her hand, reconsidered, wiped it on his robe, then shook it. ”Baron Ichabod, but you can call me Jiu. It's much easier than keeping track of whatever name I just made up. He settled back against the table. ”So why are you here? You're not hoity-toity enough to be an aristocrat. Rebellious courtesan, mistress, assassin, fancy pie thief?”

"Rebellious fancy pie assassin, actually." Emma replied glibly, "I certainly intend to rack up something of a high pie kill-count before the night is done. But no, by technicality I am actually an aristocrat. My family used to be quite important, you know. That was back before father dear ran our name through the dirt and then hung himself, but we don't like to talk about that part." She took a sip of wine, shaking her head, "Always something of an elephant in the room at family gatherings."

She smiled, "But you asked why I am here, not why they let me in. Let's call it curiosity for now. And a vested interest in playing nice with the new king. And how about you, o' made-up Baron? Am I to suppose your invitation was similarly imaginary? Don't worry, I won't tell."

”That depends on how you look at it. Did I receive an invitation? No. Was I expected to come? No. Does anyone here even know who I am? No.” He paused, bouncing his cane on the ground. ”I'm not actually sure where I was going with that. But apparently if you talk enough, they have to let you in. Seems like a big hole in security, but I certainly can't complain about it.”

"Ah yes, the good old 'talk their ears off and then sneak in whilst they're picking them up off the ground' strategy. I know that one well. Most guards are simple fellows, talk enough and use enough big words and they'll generally agree with you just to save trouble as long as you haven't stabbed anyone in front of them recently." Emma paused for a moment, examining Jiu head to toe. "And for what reason did you go to the effort of talking yourself in here, hm? Nothing sinister, I hope. I shouldn't think the guests would take kindly to their devious schemes being overshadowed by something genuinely dastardly."

“Nothing too nefarious I'm afraid. Caltinar forbid I do anything to liven this up. I'd been hearing about these adventurers ever since I got to the city and thought I'd come see them for myself, seeing as I had nothing better to do tonight.” He downed the last of his wine. ”Other than the monk, I haven't seen any of them. Well, I could have seen them, but I have no idea who any of them are so I wouldn't have recognized them.”

"I'd hazard a guess that the woman in the rather prominent armour was one of them," Emma noted with a small smirk, "Unless that happens to be a new trend amongst certain sects of the nobility I've yet to encounter before." She nodded her head thoughtfully, "They're doubtless an interesting bunch, much like the Prince himself. I'd keep an eye on any odd-looking folk he shows an interest in, since they'll most likely be part of said merry band. What is it about them that so interests you, then?"

“That was a woman? I thought she was just an effeminate looking man. Anyways, I'm a historian, sort of. I learn about things, places, people, things, what have you. They seemed like a particularly interesting sort of what have you. Thus I came to historianize. I guess I should probably make some attempt to track them down before the night's over.” He gave a mourning glance at the table of food before getting up. ”It was nice meeting you. Perhaps we'll meet again.”

"Well then, happy historianizing, my glib-tongued friend." Emma said with a raised eyebrow, "And I don't doubt that we will eventually. I think history and myself will be becoming more closely acquainted over the course of the next few months." Tapping her nose knowingly and laughing, Emma went back to dining on snacks.