Stahl @emeraldaverage-blog - Tumblr Blog

crimeanpaladin

The pleasant smile rested on his face still, but his keen eyes picked up on the other man’s nervous behavior. Suspicion beginning to creep up on him, he raised a questioning eyebrow as he waited for a response. Still, he didn’t want to appear threatening; the stranger seemed friendly enough, and wasn’t even armed. If he had malicious intentions, he was poorly equipped for it. Surely it’d be alright to have him around camp as long as the knight kept an eye on him.

“Nowhere to be?” he asked, slightly surprised and even more suspicious, “How is it that you just wandered into a mercenary camp? You’re lucky I was the first to come across you; there are some of us who aren’t exactly the friendliest people on earth.” He sniffled, pinching the bridge of his nose to hold back a sneeze. “I suppose it matters little now, though. There’s no way to go back in time and change what happened, after all.”

A chuckle escaped him and a sympathetic smile found his face as the other’s stomach growled loudly. “You’ve come to the right man, then; I just so happen to be the resident chef. Follow me, I’ll whip you up something real quick.” Nagging voices reminding him that he wasn’t allowed to cook rung in his head, but he dismissed them and made his way to the kitchen. After all, Oscar knew perfectly well how to keep himself extra sanitary.

Stahl could hear himself right now; he could feel how sketchy he was coming across. ‘Nowhere to be, huh?’ Was that really the best thing he could have thought to say? Honestly...

Mentally reprimanding himself for just a second, all criticisms were pushed aside when the stranger offered to prepare him something. “W-wait, really?” He said, the surprise evident in his voice.

Meekly, he took a few steps forward and followed Oscar into the kitchen. Perhaps what threw him off the most was just how trusting this fellow was, but still, he couldn’t help but be grateful that he was actually going to get a free meal here.

“My name is Stahl,” he said, trying to offer some sense of character. After all, it couldn’t hurt to give him his name, right?

#its alright!#my eye is finally back to normal and I can see again :D #thank god #oscar #crimeanpaladin

crimeanpaladin

Oscar watched as the stranger entered the room, noting the other’s shy demeanor. Was this one of their clients? What was he doing in the base? And for that matter, how had he gotten so far into the base without being noticed?

After hearing the man’s question he decided that this was not, in fact, one of their clients. Pushing himself up from his seat, he coughed into his sleeve. “Hello,” he said with a welcoming smile, “This is the Greil Mercenaries base. Are you lost? Has there been no one else to guide you?” The knight sniffled, wiping his nose on his hand again. “If you’re looking to obtain our services, I’m afraid I’m not the person you’re looking for. I can, however, direct you to our deputy commander or give you a ride to the nearest town.” Rhys’s words flashed briefly through his head “Try not to do much today, Oscar. Just focus on resting; don’t strain yourself.” The advice was thrown straight out a metaphorical window in his head, and he argued to himself that going out for a brief ride wouldn’t affect him, that he might as well be getting some fresh air instead of being cooped up in the stuffy laundry room. The paladin stepped up to his new companion, perhaps too enthusiastic about being distracted from his chores, “So where is it you need to be?”

Stahl bit his lip, suddenly wondering if those were the right words. He was trying to remember what he should do in these kinds of situations: should he admit to having traveled through a mystic gate from a far-off world? Or should he play innocent and act as a native? The latter would certainly prove to be the more difficult, but exactly how different could these worlds be?

“I, uh,” he started, his mind racing. There was something that this man had just said that sounded familiar - Greil Mercenaries. The name rung a distant bell in his head; this definitely wasn’t the first time he was hearing this name before, but where was it from?

“Um, nowhere, exactly. I don’t have to be anywhere, really,” he said, his brain struggling to put the pieces together. “I was just looking for, um... something to eat.”

Sheepishly, he frowned. Stahl wasn’t clever enough in this moment to think of anything wittier to say, especially under these conditions. Speaking of which, before he had a chance to add anything to his previous statement, his stomach erupted into a roar of grumbles and moans.

Oh gods...

#sorry this is a week late #i was legally blind for a few days and am only just now recovering #hope this works :]#oscar #crimeanpaladin

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Send me '☯ + a scene from my characters canon' and I will drabble it from my character's POV.

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crimeanpaladin-deactivated20180

Loud hacking could be heard from the laundry room, and then a powerful sneeze that rung off the walls. A harsh groan broke from a young man’s mouth, and more coughing ensued.

Grumbling, Oscar stitched a patch onto a pair of pants; probably Gatrie’s, guessing by the size. The action was routine and required little thought to it; in and out, in and out. A hiss scraped past his sore throat as he poked himself with the needle again, and he took a second to nurse the sting, sucking on the finger briefly. As he went back to work on the pair of trousers, the knight desperately wished he could be sleeping, or at least cooking; he genuinely enjoyed cooking, and didn’t see it as a chore so much as a different kind of art. Unfortunately for him, there was far too much to do for him to nap, and he wasn’t allowed to come anywhere near the food when sick. Setting the mended garment aside, he picked up a pair of slacks he recognized to be Boyd’s, and let out a raspy laugh when he saw the huge rip straight down the rear. Wiping off snot on the back of his hand, he set on sewing his brother’s pants back together.

He looked up as footsteps sounded closer and stopped in front of the door. He couldn’t see who it was as the door was slightly ajar, but decided to invite them in anyway. “Come in,” he croaked, setting down his work.