nekrus / mantheos

we are the stuff of  n i g h t m a r e s

[nckrus]

okazaki yasuo :

Despite the crypticness of her answer, he was relatively bored - unamused by the lack of bite to the words. Surely she sounded as if she had conviction but he wasn’t necessarily grasping whatever she was intending to imply or enunciate. Thus, most of the words fell empty upon his ears, through side of his face escaping to the other.

“whatever pleases you I suppose,” he lifted the book once more, his thumb brushing through the pages as he found himself analyzing a particular diagram of wings. The text below it also sent shivers down his spine as it detailed the signifiant bones of each part of the wing and the possible magical properties it offered. It made him nauseous just from the view that he flipped through the content more quickly.

With one book done, he grabbed the next. The information was almost redundant entirely, as useful as the last that he had read. He wanted more information, more truth of the history and yet there wasn’t anything particularly new about the history. Brittania’s text always painted the kingdom as one of greatness and glory.

He didn’t know what to believe and it only frustrated him further.

She deigned to grace him with nothing other than a soft hum. There was nothing she could say, nothing further to chit chat about and her focus shifted fully to the task ( or, well, books ) at hand. Mosmait’s library might have been lacking in certain topics, but when it came to herbs, medicine and healing, they have had more than enough satisfactory tomes about it. They also held more than a fair share of tomes on law and philosophy ( and, ironically enough, for a bunch of... first grade philosophers - as they liked to see themselves as - the tomes on philosophy were the ones with the most dust collected on their covers ).

Huilang focused on accurately sketching the herbs ( she had also dedicated herself on cataloguing them alphabetically rather than by use, unlike the tomes she had had strewn in front of her ), transcribing the healing - and poisonous - properties beside the sketches and adding a few notes of her own, stemming from her experience with a vast majority of plants. Deciding to take a short break, Huilang cracked her knuckles, stretching her fingers to relieve the tension which gathered in the muscles from continuous drawing and writing without a pause.

“How are you doing over there? Have you found what you’re looking for?”

[palomdes]

from roots and a terrible gift *

Location: Mosmait Time: Dusk @nckrus

One would expect whispers — civil unrest, bad omens, abuse of power — to leak through the perfectly aligned stalls, but not here. In Mosmait, people were too busy indulging in self-importance. They marveled at the sensation of thumbing through books in the library, skipping over the spines of alchemy and philosophy treaties. Such placid illusion of bliss had held out long enough. It was a matter of time. What would be the straw to break the camel’s back? At the moment, the inhabitants of the white city did not concern themselves with that question, among them Bitgaram.

Truth be told, he had no reason to wander around the market, but he knew that it was impossible to entrust that absent-minded new fairy with a long list of ingredients. She had yet to learn from her most recent mistake; confusing blessed thistle with milk thistle almost ruined a tonic. It was better if she limited herself to retrieving dried meat folded in cotton from the butcher, or any other trivial task while she got used to the idea of herbalism. Despite the price being unimportant, each and every item was precious, brought from distant lands with great difficulty.

All the selected plants and minerals were to be transported to his residence without fail. No merchant was hesitant to accept when they saw the glitter of the coins he offered in exchange. Money could be such a polite way to ask for things, plus it was easier than well-mannered words, at least for him. Once he purchased his last element, useful and healthy figworts, Bitgaram decided to abandon the crowd among which he did not feel exactly welcome. He was ready to walk away until he recognized a customer with a familiar face. She made him reconsider his prompt escape.

“Isn’t it a coincidence?” Bitgaram asked, which also served as brief greeting to catch her attention. He assumed that she was on the same mission to procure herself.

[nckrus]

This war was really starting to grate on her last nerve. Granted, it wasn’t like she had had that many nerves left to begin with, but lately... oh, lately everything’s been a bit difficult. It has been a long while since she was back in Mosmait, but in the last few weeks, this was her second visit to the place that had once been her home. Her first visit had been somewhat lengthy and it was purely social - to visit her family. This visit she had hoped would be much shorter and much less busy - she was here to restock her collection of dried herbs and maybe find a few specimens of the said herbs to plant in her garden, lest she would have to endure travelling to this wretched place so quickly, when the war dries up her stock once again.

Walking through the market place, her dark gaze held both grace and lightning in them, whipping out quiet, subtle warning to those familiar, unwelcome faces that had wanted to pry in her life, ask questions and force assumptions or whichever form of manipulation they attempted to use to have her spill her secrets. The very thought nearly had her audibly snorting in amusement ; as if they could make her do or say anything she did not want to do or say of her own volition. No, she never missed Mosmait - it was a town rotten to the core, and she wondered for how long its own decay can sustain it - without tearing it down to ruin.

Still, she would smile and grin when the social antics required it of her, but she loathed the pretenses. She had but a few bundles of dried herbs, a few small packets of seeds and a few raw crystals to purchase, before she could finally run as far away from Mosmait as humanely possible ( Oxdwell was sufficiently far enough - for now ). The items were safely secured in a brown, leather satchel hanging from her shoulder, while the merchant counted the coins for the second time - when it came to trust issues, merchants were second only to her. The old man hummed in approval and Huilang took it as her fortunate cue to finally fuck off from the spot --

but, then a familiar voice called out, and the healer turned around with her, arguably, most honest variant of a friendly smile she could ever grace someone hailing from Mosmait. “Well, it is a small town, though I admit I did not expect to see you here. Have you come to stock up as well?”

[nckrus]

lao huojin :

it had been a rush for huojin, of adrenaline, fists, words, all of it. he had not particularly desired to seek out a healer, but the cut above his brow, lengthy gash on his palm, & pounding in his skull were refusing to be ignored. so, there he was, stumbling along the streets of mosmait until he crashed into the door of the nearest healer & began to bang on it. despite the obvious pain, he was riding off of the high of the night’s events & an amused smile plastered on his lips to prove it. which was exactly how he greeted the woman who answered the door. shit, he could feel her disapproval.

“fists, chairs, mugs, we used all kinds of things tonight,” he clucked his tongue, while his hand went to rub at his aching head. “ah – i really was just trying to have a quiet drink or two ! but, the fucker just would not shut his mouth & i started to wonder what he would look like with my glass smashed on his head,” his gaze tilted, as though he was imagining it again, & he began to laugh. his laugh quickly melted into a hiss of pain, as he realized he had been using pressure on his injured hand to quell his raging headache.

“where would you like me ?” he asked, taking a quick glance about the room & registering half of it in blurs.

the ancients had graced her with an idiot tonight - but, fortunately for the dwindling few nerves she had left in her body, he was not a familiar idiot, so she couldn’t really say she cared ; or particularly judged him ( she reckoned if she was a man, she too would have indulged a few rounds of fisticuffs. not that she couldn’t do it as a woman, but alas a violent woman was highly frowned upon, even if the said woman was a knight ). sighing softly in a manner that bordered on something resembling exasperation, huilang allowed for her dark gaze to linger upon the man ; assessing and inspecting. save for a few cuts, he was in a fairly good state - at least appearance wise.

he spoke - or more accurately retorted - and the healer’s eyebrow arched half in exasperation and, she had to admit, half in amusement ; amusement which may have bordered on slight intrigue. but, before she could truly comment on it, he continued talking and she fought the urge to roll her eyes. men and their tempers - if she was as violent as she could be, then mosmait would’ve drowned in its own blood decades ago. her brows furrowed as she kept inspecting him - yes, he seemed to be holding up well enough - until he hissed and she let out another audible sigh ; “next time, exercise your imagination instead of fists. giving the size and shape of the cut on your head, i’d presume you too had something smashed against it, hm?” huilang asked.

motioning with her hand for him to follow her, the healer led her most recent patient to the back room, where she usually admitted the ailing ones. “sit - or lay down if you’d prefer - on the settee.” she instructed, stalking over to the cabinet to fetch the gauze and the rest of the ingredients needed to dress his wounds. “tell me, how much does your head hurt?”

[nckrus]

rohan vermeer :

Rohan found it surprising to hear a local healer belittle her own city. After all, to someone like him, Traos seemed like a soft and peaceful city the type of which might belittle a city like Kalgar though Kalgar ideology might be interesting enough for Traostians to argue about. Then again, it occurred to him that perhaps feeling above others might be what a typical traostian did.

As he was beckoned to follow, Rohan guided the now more awake than asleep man into the room and then into the settee in the corner of it. As he did so, the covering on the cargo strapped to his back slipped partially off revealing the tips of fairy wings clearly different from each other. He did not notice. What he did notice, was how little the healer cared for the patient even after finding out the man often visited. Shame on him, Rohan thought, how weak he must be. However, he also thought her shameful in the way she seemed to dislike her own profession and means of survival. A traostian like her must have had plenty of choice, and therefore Rohan faulted her.

“I always believed to be a healer would be a source of pride. It is a means of survival that can allow others to live. It does not force muddling through trenches but through books. Was this profession your parent’s choice upon you?” he asked, “I’ve heard such things happen in the middle and upper classes of Brittania, I suppose it should not be another surprising thing to me about Traos.”

Huilang waited for the man to fling the annoyance to the settee, and in the process of doing so, she noticed the thing strapped on his back. The feeling that washed over her was not surprise ( she no longer had it in her to be surprised over anything anymore ) ; it was not rage, either ( she had minded her own business - picking up a pointless fight with a man she did not know, in her own house, seemed like the most idiotic thing a person could do. plus, he was a stranger and she couldn’t say she cared to know anything about him. perhaps he was a merchant. perhaps he was some slave-overlord. she didn’t care to assume. cared even less to ask or even seem like she’d noticed ). The sentiment she felt was, frankly, disappointment, but oh well. People always disappointed her in the end.

She walked over to the cabinet with smelling salts, taking a gauze and pushing over a bucket of cold water closer to the settee, as she quickly assessed the situation at hand once again. A few cuts and bruises, but it was nothing both she and the man laying strewn across it were not already familiar with. Pulling a chair to sit by the settee, Huilang briefly dunked the gauze in the bucket of water, before putting it over the man’s throat, to cool down the blood which will help with the clotting.

He had a point there, about the healer’s profession, but she frowned at the implication. “No, my parents did not choose this profession for me, I chose it myself - when I left Mosmait, to be more precise.” She quietly replied, eyeing the patient with a wary expression on her face. He better not be eavesdropping. “You don’t seem like the type of be dragged in pointless brawls. How did you end up carrying his dumb ass here? Surely, his cousin could have picked someone familiar to take him.”

[nckrus]

okazaki yasuo :

He almost laughed, she was so odd. He looked up from the text that he had been barely concentrating on to answer her. “Seems like you’re interested in chatting,” he cocked his head at her, as if it to challenge her to say otherwise.

“Most people I know don’t help strangers unless they want something out of it.” He said, his voice hushed lest he disturb the other readers in the library. “So, given that alone - what are you after?” He could’ve said want but it didn’t seem like the girl was particularly the air-headed type. But he could be wrong. He didn’t know much on the inner-workings of the feminine mind.

The arrogant part of him wondered if she recognized the emblem on his clothing, it had the crest of his family’s noble insignia after all. He was rich and that alone often entailed interest in one shape or form.

She internally debated with herself whether she should grace him with an eyeroll, a snarl, a smirk or an arched eyebrow - she ended up opting for a pointed look, dark gaze briefly lingering on the man, before her attention shifted back to the manuscript in front of her.

When Huilang wanted to prove a point, the only thing she had to do was to keep quiet - men always found a way to cling to some irrelevant topic, falling into the trap of their own condescension. This man was no different ; after the transparent attempt of trying to get her to talk again, he swan dived right into his own trap and she graced him with the most polite smile she could, without being seen as victorious.

“Who’s the chatty one now?” She softly asked, with an innocent expression gracing her features, but then he spoke again, and with a sigh she closed the manuscript, eyebrow arched in question. “Most people are idiots.” Huilang spoke without batting an eye, but his following words left her with an amused snort ; “Do not put me in the same category with other people, dearie. I’m helping you because you are not from Mosmait, and because this kind of help requires nothing from me.” What she was after was peace and quiet, but given how men and their characters worked, she was certain she wasn’t getting any of it, anytime soon.

[nckrus]

skora aldisian ; old friend :

Being startled was not a feeling Skora was accustomed to.

Yet the intonation and lilt of that voice stirred something in the deeper, buried crevices of Skora’s mind. Something familiar and dare she permit it, fond. She turned away from the stall then, focusing all her attention on the voice in question.

“Huilang,” Skora uttered the name as if it didn’t sound strange to hear the syllables roll off her tongue once more. As if all this time hadn’t passed and the world hadn’t aged them, made them stronger and wearier.

Mosmait is where they had first met. A place where they once would indulge their darker sentiments and curiosities together. And while it wasn’t always peaceful, after all those who fancied themselves ‘great minds’ often tried to prove so through condescension and elitism, that was not the case with the woman before her — typically individuals only ever extended alliances in so far as Skora remained useful, more a pawn than a true companion. Yet with her friend (to call Huilang anything else would be to deny the warmth that lingered, that remained still when her thoughts would idly drift back to her time spent in Mosmait), it wasn’t about acquisitions and favors. It felt like solace, a sort of tranquility she permitted herself to feel even if it was anesthetized by the pain she kept well hidden.

But Huilang’s presence had been a pleasing one, a kinship where they seemed to shift effortlessly around the other without pushing beyond the boundaries they created in order to survive; to endure. Inevitably, however, people leave and sometimes they simply died — moving onto the next chapter of their lives or another plane of existence. She wouldn’t describe Huilang’s departure as a heartbreak, but perhaps something a bit closer to a phantom sensation and she’d wonder at times what became of the woman.

Skora cleared her throat, noting the strain in her voice from disuse. “It has been quite some time indeed,” She smiled slightly at the admission, of being called an old friend. “I could say the same. What brings you to Aspos?” She asked, less accusatory than it was a question of genuine interest.

Strictly speaking, Huilang wasn’t a people-person ; there may have been a time, in her early childhood, when she had reached out to people, attempted to make friends with those who had surrounded her on a daily basis - but, she learned far too soon that people were fickle, more fickle than a candle’s flame during a windy night, extinguished after mere moments of being lit. The lesson was learned and every Mosmait-based encounter she had had with the... native people had been made out of either necessity or circumstance ; and they have all been made with layers and layers of walls built up around here - cold and distant, like the moonlight illuminating the darkest of nights.

But, it was a different thing entirely with Skora ; coming to think of it, the woman may have been the only other person, save for her family of course, whom Huilang came to... well, trust. She definitely trusted her more than any other person she was acquainted with in her home town. There were never any expectations out of their friendship - it wasn’t based on a favour-for-a-favour principle, nor was it made with any lingering agendas on their minds ; at least to her knowledge ( and if there was one thing she could trust without a fault, it was knowledge ).

She was certainly glad to see her, and not many people could pride themselves of eliciting that sort of fondness from her.

The question was a rational one - after all, out of all places they could accidentally bump into each other, it was Aspos. It wasn’t a place that Lang Lang often visited ( this may have been her third visit in roughly three years, but something had told her she may have to visit it again soon - the herb she was looking for had been most potent when picked in this place, and she preferred her potions and balms to be as potent as possible ).

“I’m here to stack up on herbs for my medical practice. Aspos has the potent energy that seems to be most auspicious for certain herbs and it maximises their potency, so it is certainly better to pick them here than in Oxdwell, or any other place.” Huilang replied with a soft smile gracing her features. “And what brings you here?”

[nckrus]

old friends

with : @skorawhispers​ location : aspos time : evening

Friends may not have been the exact term to what they were, but to call them mere acquaintances would have been an understatement. Oddly enough, Skora may have been the only person she had met in Mosmait that she was somewhat... comfortable being around. For a start, she did not have to pointlessly talk all the time, just to fill the silence ; and sharing silence with the other woman had been a good start to their half friendship / half acquaintanceship. She was certainly better to be around with than the lot that was bred and raised in Mosmait. Yet, despite being comfortable in her company, Huilang was never the type to seek people out and she was rarely the one to seek others to say goodbye - the only people she had ever said goodbye to had been her parents and younger sibling, when she was leaving Mosmait behind. Often she had wondered if she should have at least waved Skora goodbye, but she seldom dwelt on the thought long enough to feel guilty about it - their friendship was easy, made in silence and quiet reading based rendez-vous in the library ; why sully it with words?

Years have passed, but every once in a while she would wonder what had happened to her friend ; if she was still in Mosmait or had she, too, seen the people living there as nothing but a waste of space and breath, and moved on to a different place. She could not really claim to know her character, as they rarely spoke of personal things, aside from some backhanded tidbits of information thrown here and there ( they shared in death, in loss ) ; but, she did wonder if she’d ever have an opportunity to meet her again.

It would appear that she would have such an opportunity, in the place she’d least expected to catch a glimpse of her. Huilang had been something of a traveller lately ; travelling to restock on specific herbs and items that could only be found in specific places - and one of those places had been Aspos. To be honest, at the first glance, Huilang thought she had seen wrong - the moon may have been shining above their heads, but years had passed and people tended to change - after all, she herself changed. But, the herbalist threaded closer and reaching the woman she was certain it was her old friend.

“I thought it may have been you, Skora.” Huilang spoke, attempting to capture her attention ; “It’s been years, old friend. Fancy seeing you here, of all places.”

[nckrus]

okazaki yasuo :

“Yes,” he said flatly. He could already catch the subtle glimpses of suspicion. He decided to take another path - another approach, perhaps if he started going toward the high way, exuding the pompousness of his natural egotism, it would successfully distract from everything else.

“Bland?” He eyed the tome again.

It looked far from bland - intricate in it’s physical appearance, surely there was plenty of knowledge. “Mhm that’s nice I suppose,” he was rather disappointed in the lackluster answer she had provided. He had anticipated her to amuse him with something extraordinary but then again, she didn’t seem particularly interesting.

“I’m going to read if you don’t mind,” he was matter of fact with his proclamation, sitting down, flipping open one of the books. Surely he should have thanked her or asked her for her name but he took this as an opportunity to multi task and observe every so often.

It was always a delight to meet someone who had an academic inclination, rather than just plowing through the world and daily life with the colossal amount of one brain cell to sustain them ( it was the bare minimum required to actually stay alive ). She simply pursed her lips together at his short reply and nodded - as far as conversations went, the man certainly was not... vocal.

“Yes, bland. Not at all interesting. Knowledge that babes in the cradle know. Very generic, if you need a more... sustainable word.” Though, all the books in this section of the library were generic - custom made for the masses and their very own mindset ; herd mentality further fed by tailor made books that held nothing interesting, nothing of true depth and value - nothing to feed the soul and challenge the mind.

“Well, this is a library. What else are you supposed to do? Chat?” Not like he had seemed to be the chatty type - truth be told, she herself was not on the talkative side ; in fact, if she did not have to speak to another person in her life, she wouldn’t feel like she missed a thing - she’d always have her books to contain with.

[nckrus]

rohan vermeer :

Rohan did as told and pull-carried the swaying man inside. Both of them were drenched with freezing sky water. The sound of movement told him a separate room was likely being prepared, but in the meantime Rohan had paused near the hearth to warm himself. The man leaned heavily on Rohan as he moaned with the warmth of the fire and the pounding pain he was beginning to feel in his half waking state.

Nothing Rohan was not used to, though he found no cause to respect the fool and therefore cared little for his comfort. He did not wish to be there after all, because he agreed with the healer. The name was irrelevant, and the drunken brawl had been pointless. “Yes, which is not behavior I expected to find in Mosmait if I’m perfectly honest,” Rohan said with a casual sweeping of his dripping hair away from his face. “Where do I let him drop?,” he said with a marked glance to the clinging man, “not that I’m in a hurry to enter the rain again, but I don’t care to hold him until his cousin decides he’s worth more than the few coins her tavern might make on a day like this.”

Huilang waited for her sibling to finish up preparing the backroom for the irrelevant man she had been vaguely acquainted with for the majority of her early life - he was most certainly not her friend, but then again, no one in Mosmait had ever been her friend. They were all a bunch of hypocrites with a vastly overinflated sense of self worth. Had it not have been annoying, it would have been amusing - but, while she had appreciated the irony of their stupidity, she was still greatly exasperated by them ; they were tiresome and vexing.

Her sibling emerged from the backroom, just as the man spoke again and the brunette snorted in amusement. “Mosmait’s reputation is greatly overpraised - and overestimated.” She commented, locking gazes with her sibling as the latter quietly motioned to let her know everything’s been set up. “This way, please.” Huilang instructed, waving her hand for the man to follow her.

Entering the room in question, the healer motioned to the settee in the corner. “Just fling him there, while I fetch the smelling salts.” Lavender would do just fine. Unless he had had a concussion - in which case she would certainly require something stronger. “This is the usual for him, to be honest. I am not sure why his cousin still bothers to bring him here.” She suspected the woman might be curious - and of the notion that her dimwitted cousin would actually remember anything of any value.

[nckrus]

okazaki yasuo :

“Nothing particularly interesting,” he said casually. Oh but he wanted to know everything. The little history he had received from being born in the capitol only spoke of fairy kind with propaganda colored in the text. He wanted to read insight that differed from his natural presumptions. He wanted to know a part of his own history - something he’d never admit to his own parents. For their sake he would live better off as a false human than anything else. He picked up one of the books, flipping it open as he scanned through the table of contents. It seemed as if the information was generic, a disappointment truly.

“Yes, I … never mind my background, it’s not important,” he said. What she said didn’t help him paint a clearer picture upon her stance of the war. It was frustrating to a certain degree as it clipped his tongue and speech. “Say, what did they teach you about fairies? What do you know?” He was curious, perhaps her upbringing was different. Maybe she knew more than what the books told.

Nothing particularly interesting - well, that was a lie, if she’d ever heard one. “So, purely academical interest, hm?” She retorted, eyeing the titles of the books that laid upon the table. They were... well, basic knowledge to be frank. Nothing that delved too deep into the always-tricky topic of fairies ; and of humans who lived with them, enslaved them. She had read those books - majority of them only delved into the more modern era ; nothing about the beginnings, when the picture of the world had been painted a little... differently. “Still, if that is what you are looking for, I doubt you will find anything of value in the tome you are holding. It is a little - how shall I put it - bland.”

“Very few things are important.” Huilang retorted, waving her hand dismissively. If he was not inclined to share of his own volition, she was hardy the one to insist - or to pry. As curious as she was by nature, she couldn’t really say she truly cared to know ; she will probably forget all about this encounter by the end of this evening. The question was hardly surprising in itself, and she found herself pursing her lips in thought. “They teach what they preach, and all of it can be found in the books you are holding. When it comes to fairies, I found... experience with them to be my greatest teacher.” That, and a few dusty tomes hidden in the archives.

[nckrus]

okazaki yasuo :

He could lie.

Though the books themselves would already betray the topics that he was intrigued in. Surely she would glance over at the titles, as some were not completely unrecognizable. He had intended to hold his tongue but thought better of it. In such a circumstance like this, he didn’t see harm in speaking the truth. And thus, he did.

He had taken a pause, thinking for a moment before returning her gaze.

“Fairies.”

So he had been right about his instincts, well - it was easy to guess when she seemed very comfortable in her motion. Though he wondered if she were one to partake in sides on the Brittanian-Avalonian war. “Have you never met a foreigner before?” There was light intrigue matched with intrigue. Though she didn’t say it, he sensed a certain amount of hostility in her presence.

Hm. Fairies. Still, that did not quite answer her assumptions ( it was not uncommon for humans to be interested in fairies - whether to deepen their backward thought, or to... illuminate them ), but she wasn’t as nosy, or impolite, as to outwardly ask which specie he belonged to - not that she particularly cared about it, either. So long as he was not from Mosmait, she was comfortable enough with helping him. “You are going to have to be a little more specific. There are more than a few tomes about fairies in here.” She spoke, head tilting to the side as she observed him, dark gaze trained upon the man, inquisitive as it slid from him to the books and back.

“In Mosmait? Not as many I would have liked. As... progressive as some of the people here are, I still find them to be vastly backward in their general thought.Though, I suppose I myself am a foreigner here, as of late. It has been a while since I left this place.” Huilang replied, her curiosity piqued by the foreigner. “Is this your first time here?”

[nckrus]

perrine barassard :

Perrine was dirty,  coated with a layer of grim accumulated through travel. She was never the passive sort, preferring to be out and doing something to staying behind, but even she could admit returning to the ruins of the city was a relief. They seemed on the precipice of something, and that filled her with both anticipation and unease. Of course, something was better than nothing. Perrine had been looking for a something for years now, yet now that it appeared to be time to actually take action, she could not shake the feelings of discontent.

The presence of humans unnerved her. It always had, she supposed. Growing up, the presence of humans never meant anything good. She could recall the way her mother’s hands shook in their presence, recalled horror stories told to her in long nights travelling with her father. Perrine could not put that to one side, even now she had to work with them. She kept a cautious eye on those she now called allies, waiting for their true agendas to peek through. It was expected from all of them, and that included Huilang.

No, Perrine did not trust her. If she had not been human, perhaps it would be a different story. Still, she was a good herbalist, and right now, Perrine needed to make use of those talents, even if she would rather limit any dealings she had with her. Her travels in search of recruits had dwindled her own personal supplies, and she needed to restock before heading out once more. On top of that, she could sense the mood had shifted, though she couldn’t quite place her finger on why. Perhaps the magician could provide insight on it.

She didn’t bother to clean herself up totally, but she gave her face a cursory wipe. Even in Draeben, she had spent most of her life in the gutter. Grit and grime were comfortable for her, and she certainly wasn’t going to go to any further effort. With that, she knocked the door, and waited to be welcomed in.

“Huilang,” she said in acknowledgement. Not greeting - that felt far too warm, and Perrine did not wish to be particularly warm towards the other. She was not subtle, and her suspicion was evident on her face. “It is nothing like that.” She dismissed her question with a shake of her head. “I am not injured, though I would not say no to a pick-me-up if you have anything to hand.” The delicacies of pumping someone for information were lost on Perrine, but she figured it was only polite to pretend that there was something social about this. “I am in need of a restock, though.Just in case.”

Well, she certainly looked worse - it was a healer’s thought that flashed through her mind as her dark gaze remained trained upon the brunette ; assessing, always assessing ( even if fairies had been... appreciative of her skill and her liberal way of thinking, she was hardly foolish enough to believe they trusted her - or liked her, as the matter of fact. truthfully speaking, she herself did not quite know if she liked them or trusted them back. quite possibly no. it was the general injustice which abhorred her, not the kindness or malice of the winged specie ). Still, she was a healer and as such she was tasked with helping those in need - but, the healing took a toll on her and on more than one occasion she wondered if she should, perhaps, stop. At least now she understood why her mother never healed another person, since she was unable to prevent the deaths of her extended family.

No one had died on Huilang’s watch, not yet at least - she wondered if she would ever let something like that happen ; if she would ever try to heal a lost cause. Perhaps not - she was smarter, more... cunning than her dear mother, who was almost naively benevolent. Lang Lang was of the different sentiment, thanks to those cunts in Mosmait. The brunette in front of her spoke again and it prompted the healer to return back from the dark thoughts that began to consume her. Pursing her lips, she offered her a quick nod, followed by a soft “Hm.” A pick-me-up. That was easy enough. “You are in good luck today, knight. A fresh batch of revitalising tea had been brewed thing morning. Come on in for a cup.” She stepped to the side, opening the door wider in the process.

Huilang was no fool. She was hardly acquaintances with the woman in her company, and the term friends was completely foreign to her - both as a concept and an experience. Still, Perrine was one of the rare few who indulged in any sort of conversation with her, something that remotely resembled amicability ( not friendliness, of course, but the amicability of the sort that they, at least, were not enemies ). Besides, as a knight, Perrine was stocked with a more... practical knowledge that the healer lacked, just as she had something the knight might’ve wanted to know ; after all, what is information but useful gossip?

“Mn.” Huilang nodded at the latter. She had expected it. The first thing that went dry after a few days on the road were the provisions ; no matter how wise a person was in dividing the rations, no one was skilled enough to make them last forever.

“Of course. What do you need?” Aside from the healing balms and bandages to patch herself up on the go - and food ; but, Huilang was no merchant, and she knew Perrine’s request would be of the more... metaphysical sort.

[nckrus]

what is it with men and fights

with : @notgcne​ location : mosmait time : night

gods were really, really testing her ; there was virtually no other explanation for what was currently happening. she was hardly the only healer in mosmait, but it would seem she was the most popular one - despite being back in her home town for the total of three stinking days. initially, she had planned never to return to the place that had been so unwelcome, so... terrible to her during all eighteen years she had lived there - but, homesickness did not mean she missed the place or the people ; only her family, her parents and her younger sibling. and so she had decided to visit, to stay with them for a short while.

she really did not think ailing people would flock to her like chickens to their mother hen, constantly nagging and chirping, asking for this potion, or that balm, or this-and-that advice, or a tea or whatever it was their curiosity prompted them to ask of her. more than a good half of them was not even ailing. but, she bit her tongue and smiled and lied through her teeth when the familiar faces attempted to gouge secrets and knowledge from her - they never succeeded ; and they never will, no matter how repentant they attempted to appear.

but, then, of course, there were unfamiliar people - how they found her cot was honestly beyond her, but so long as she didn’t ask questions, she didn’t really have a problem with helping them ; she was a healer, after all. though, when a loud knock upon her door echoed through the darkness of her room, she sighed, wondering if she should, perhaps, just play dead and rethink her profession to something less... crowded. setting down a glass of strong drink she had been enjoying for the past fifteen minutes, huilang stalked to the door, cracking them open with an arched eyebrow - and when her dark gaze landed upon an unfamiliar man, this time obviously wounded, she opened the door wider, stepping to the side.

she really wasn’t the one to ask questions, but the hour was late and her usually disinterested appearance melted away ; “let me guess. a fun night turning rough with a round of fisticuffs?” a soft sigh, and then ; “well, do come in.”

[nckrus]

okazaki yasuo :

“Oh it’s nothing, I can handle it,” he said between a forced smile. Who was he kidding, his hands were filled and the next book that was piled on top could send the rest of the ones he had collected collapsing before his very feet. Though he was too stubborn to admit it, gritting his teeth at the weight - he was accustomed to the behavior of pretending anyways.

He hadn’t expected to follow her but then, somehow he did. The relief of having a table allowed him to set the pile down. At her words, a part of him tensed. His guard was up, swallowing, his nerves jolted but he managed to smoothly place the books on the surface. He was careful in his words, “Oh I’m just a curious foreigner. I heard of the text that Mosmait had in the libraries so I came here. Seems like you’re quite familiar though, or are my assumptions incorrect?”

He watched her - eyes attempting to figure out what kind of person she was.

Yes, it definitely looked like he could handle it ; she dryly thought to herself, dark gaze fixing upon the stranger in an absentminded manner. Whenever she would meet someone new, she would remember the argument in the academy, the debate which had her... removed from the presence of the dimwitted, backward and narrow minded populace of Mosmait - so called philosophers who only preached and searched for conformity. Looking at the man in front of her, she really could not tell if he was human or fairy ( though, perhaps the books in his lap could... hint to her. still, he could be either specie ; it was not in her nature to assume anything ).

Huilang noticed the change - watching people had been a habit of hers ( she had spent most of her years in Mosmait and, as of recently, in Oxdwell reading people. mostly to keep herself safe from any betrayal or harm, and for now she was fairly good at it ). “You will find many various texts here. Is there anything in particular that interests you?” She asked, head tilting to the side. Yes, the library of Mosmait was quite possibly the only good thing in the wretched town.

“Mn. Your assumptions are correct. Though, it has been a few years since I last came to this place.” Thing may have changed, but the library remained the same, so she carefully added ; “Perhaps I can be of assistance, if there is something specific you are looking for?”

[nckrus]

the tea is exceptionally good today

with : @perrinebarassard​ location : oxdwell time : afternoon

Everything was about to change ; she could feel it in her bones - but, whether it was a change for better or for worse, she could not tell. Truthfully speaking, she wasn’t quite certain she had wanted to know - being well informed was definitely a powerful thing, but all power came with a little bit of curse with it, and knowing things was certainly part blessing part curse. Being a healer, Huilang was more than certain that she would, inevitably, be dragged into the hellish war that was definitely brewing ( brewing may have been too weak a word - at this point, it was scalding ; boiling ) despite not really wanting to be anywhere near it. If her only task in the conflict was to... heal the wounded, then so be it - it did not differ from her usual daily ( and sometimes nightly ) life, but what if Avalon starts demanding something else? What that else was, she did not know and, frankly, she was half afraid and half exasperated to even contemplate to ask.

People were all the same - fairy or human - and when things turn brutal ( and they will. they always do ), all goodness and decency simply... evaporates from their hearts, souls and minds. She would hardly be surprised if the Avalonians turned to be just as radical and dreadful as the opposing side - injustice about the fairy slavery aside, this conflict will, undoubtedly, be led by someone who is looking to seize and grasp power ( and if he liberates slaves and manages to drill some common fucking decency in others in the process, it would just be an added bonus. a real feather in his wing - metaphorically speaking, of course ). That had been her train of thought ever since she left Mosmait to travel on her own - or, perhaps, being far away from her past made her all the more resentful of the sheer stupidity of the people who had once surrounded her.

Perched up in her chair, Huilang was flipping through the leather bound notebook, her finger tracing the drawings she had made, as she searched for the plant of current interest - belladonna. In a very mild dosage, it served as a sleeping powder, a sleeping potion, if brewed correctly and with a few other herbs - but, it could also be a very potent poison. Lips pursed together in thought, dark eyes narrowing, when she was once again interrupted with a loud knock on her door ( another wounded soldier? another reckless idiot with a sword? another dumbass having an accident in training? ). Exhaling heavily enough that she wondered if she could expel her soul from her body with the motion, Huilang closed the notebook and went to greet the person.

A familiar face welcomed her ( well, welcomed might not have been the proper description ) and the healer dragged her dark gaze briefly over the woman’s visage, taking in her general posture and appearance. She didn’t seem to be injured, and it left Huilang wondering what was it that she wanted of her. “You do not seem like the type to pop in for a social visit, Perrine. What is the matter? Is something ailing you?”

[ravermeer]

Healing Hands

@nckrus Location: Mosmait Time: Early evening

The brawl had lasted less than 5 rotations of the middle wheel of Mosmait’s timekeep tower. It had just begun to rain ice water but even that had not been enough to stop or slow the violent anger two schools of thought had built up against each other. Rohan had walked in to purchase warm drink when the verbal brawl turned physical. Emotion had pulled in everyone in the cozy tavern outside into the rain, leaving Rohan as their only spectator behind a window. He did not join in nor did he step in, instead he reverently witnessed their conviction made physical even though he understood both sides had already lost. The first thing Mosmait had taught him was that a battle of thought could not be won with the strength of the body. 

Before the fifth rotation of the timekeep wheel the flamed discussion turned worried and reproachful as one man lay half conscious. “Dear customer! Help me get him to the healers,” said a woman behind the counter while her husband told the brawlers to go home or get along lest they get banned from the tavern. 

Rohan found himself half-carrying a half-conscious man through the streets after the woman had pointed in a general direction saying, “it’s the green door on the other side of the street down that way, you have my gratitude good sir, this cousin of mine will be the end of my shop! He ought to go back to his books!” before closing the tavern door. When someone in Kalgar asked for help with a body, it was usually followed with a symbol of non-monetary gratitude like food, as a way of wishing the helper long life. Mosmait was a different place to expect someone to aid without reverence or pay. It told him even the most scholar places could be just as backwards as the ignorant. 

The healer’s door opened to the two drenched men under the rain and Rohan told them of what happened. Though he was not wearing the colors of Brittania it was clear he was not mosmaiti due to his build and manner. “Pointless fighting,” he said, “anger took over and they lost sight of what they were fighting for. The lady at the tavern called him a cousin, but I do not know their names,” he said hoping the healers would recognize the people because the injured man was in no condition to deal with the price of his healing. 

[nckrus]

It was a fine evening - mostly quiet, save for the sound of deluge raging outside. No one in their right mind would be out during such a weather, except for those who had been caught unawares, coming home from work. She wondered if her father was one of them, or if he was still holed up in the archives, doing what he did the best, isolating himself from everyone and everything in the process. perhaps she should have followed in his steps, took up translating and transcribing ancient texts, with zero to null contact with the living people ; but, instead, she took to herbalism and healing, though people rarely deserved to be healed - or at least those who lived in Mosmait did not deserve it.

Oxdwell was another thing entirely. It was not like she particularly trusted anyone there ( her trust issues were deeply rooted, and no matter how kind someone was to her, she always suspected there was something sinister - or at least an agenda - behind the kindness ), but they were... decent enough to her there ; both fairies and humans. So long as she did not ask questions and so long as they omitted the cause of their wounds ( she was satisfied enough with the : oh, it’s from the training, lie they usually made. perhaps it was from the training. she was not invested enough in the individuals to care ).

Yes, it was a fine, quiet evening - until someone had the audacity to knock on the door. Reining in the more questionable side of her temperament, Huilang rose to open ( it could have been her father, or her mother, returning from the forest ), her dark eyes meeting unfamiliar pale ones. Her attention shifted from the unfamiliar man to the familiar man hanging at his side, and the brunette arched an eyebrow ( whether she was amused or annoyed, she herself did not know ).

Dark gaze shifted to her sibling, who understood the silent message - prepare the room. “Bring them in.” Huilang spoke, stepping to the side to let the men in, with an exasperated sigh falling from her lips. Normally, she would have left the idiot to rot in the nearest pitch, but since he was sent here, her family might get into trouble if she turned them away - though, quickly scanning the condition of the unconscious man, the only thing he needed was a bucket of ice cold water thrown over his head, and maybe a good few slaps ; and smelling salts. “The name is irrelevant - ” meaning, the person is irrelevant “ - and all drunken brawls are pointless.”

[nckrus]

okazaki yasuo :

Investigations had led to Yasuo finding himself in Mosmait. He had never been to the region prior and thus, everything was new and intriguing. He had remembered only a few facts that had stuck with him from his studies. The Mosmaiti approach on subjects and topics vastly seemed to differ from those in the capitol.

And it was these things that had him wondering if he could find answers to questions that had long bothered him. He had decided to take a break from his duties, wandering off toward the library in search of supposed text that was rumored to be stored in the marble walls. His fingers brushed through the book binds, looking for titles.

Perhaps he had been too greedy for it wasn’t long before his arms were full of books upon books. His hands could barely hold it all before some ended up sliding from the very top of his pile onto the ground. He held his breath, as if he could pretend he wasn’t the one that had caused the sound. But his hopes were dashed when he heard the voice of an unknown girl. “I’m fine, it’s fine,” he said quickly, despite the obvious fact that he was struggling to carry all the leather bound text.

“Can you grab the one on top over there?” he motioned with his head. It was the last one that he wanted to read about, it was about fairies after all.

Fine may have not been the word she would have used, but her only reply to it had been a soft hm ( it was hardly her business. and it was not like she had particularly cared about what other people did - so long as they were as far away from her as humanely possible ; given her line of work ). She was going to return to the tome in front of her, but the man spoke again and she cursed herself for recklessly offering her assistance. Great, now she will have to get up and actually help, instead of focusing on sketching and writing healing ( and, yes, toxic as well ) properties of herbs.

“Are you sure you can handle more books?” Huilang was not planing on sounding condescending or patronising - she was the last person to judge someone’s thirst for knowledge or their quest to wisdom, or whatever it was that the person was looking for, but after a momentary thought she had to admit her words came out as that ; and so the brunette rose from her seat, stretching to fetch the book he was vaguely pointing at ( given the titles of the books he was holding in his lap, she could guess which book he wanted to read next ).

“I don’t recall ever seeing you around before.” Huilang added, crouching to pick up the fallen books, before carrying them to the table she had occupied, wordlessly offering the man to join her.