now that's strategy!

am•ne•si•ac (æmˈni ʒiˌæk, -zi-) 1. a person affected by amnesia; partial or total loss of memory, usually resulting from shock, psychological disturbance, brain injury, or illness. Part of The Ylisstol HQ

[ylissestactician]

Open RP

[lethebound-deactivated20140410]

"Oh," she replied, the corners of her lips turning down slightly. "There’s no helping it if we’ve run out… unless there’s more in the supply cart?" Bounding back over to her father, she tugged on his sleeve childishly. "But hey, hey! Salt or no salt, it’s still something warm in your stomach after a long day! I’m sure no one will mind!" she said cheerily. Taking another glance at the bubbling stew, she added, "It’s almost done anyway. We can find some more salt for tomorrow, right?"

[ylissestactician]

Robin patted her head once more, even though Morgan was only slightly shorter than him for this timeline. "We'll find it tomorrow. Maybe go to the market." He found the stew spoon nearby and cautiously scooped some of the dinner up and blew on it to ease the heat coming off of it. The tactician held the spoon to his daughter, trying not to spill it. "Wanna test to see if we're okay without?"

[m-inervykins]

Silence [Gerome - M!Robin]

[m-inervykins]

That's not a very good answer, and Gerome knows so, as well. Instead, he gives a small sigh and shakes his head. Impatiently tapping his foot and crossing his arms like a typical disappointed person, he begins to chastise the tactician. "You know full well out of everybody that it isn't wise to be up so late. And besides, I'm the one that usually patrols at this hour." Ah, he sounds almost possessive, as if he's the only one that should be doing so... Better tweak his next words a bit. "You should get to bed, if you really were patrolling."

   His voice is a tad on the scale of accusatory, but he can't help it. After all, the wyvern rider is probably the most cautious child, probably the most cautious child in the entire army! But it's his nature, and he's surely not going to change any time soon.

And then an idea strikes. If Robin's up this late, why not rope him into helping Gerome patrol? The wyvern rider is always the one that gets the least sleep, and Inigo is always the last one to fall asleep, and...well, it doesn't make for much of a successful formula, does it?

"Why don't you explain to me why you're really up this late... And also help me look after the camp? Normally, Minerva and I do so, but wyverns need sleep, as well."

[ylissestactician]

Gerome could indeed be difficult when he wanted to be. Under his stern glance, Robin shrugged casually, debating on the true answer but at last he offered it anyway. "I couldn't sleep."

Robin walked with Gerome as he explained. "I've been reading and sparring all day, but it's odd, I can't sleep. I should be exhausted." He felt a bit sheepish he was being scolded by Gerome of all people, the cautious, silent, wyvern rider of the night, and the most paranoid of the children.

The tactician smiled wryly at the rider's question. "No wonder I don't see Minerva around then. I'm no wyvern by any means, but I'll patrol with you." He resolved to try to be cheerful, as Robin assumed this would be a long night.

[ylissestactician]

Open RP

[lethebound-deactivated20140410]

Positively beaming, Morgan jumped up eagerly, body already in motion. “Of course I do!” She was halfway to the cupboards when she turned back to face her father. “Oh, umm, I guess I should ask where you’ve already looked,” she said, laughing with a tinge of embarrassment. Sometimes, she would get ahead of herself, and this situation was definitely one of those times. It wasn’t good to be too hasty, but she just couldn’t help it when she got excited.

[ylissestactician]

Robin laughed at his daughter's enthusiasm. It was good that someone kept an open heart in these times, especially his own kin. "I've checked here, but I don't think there's any salt left..." He looked mournfully at the stew still cooking over the oven. "I wonder if everyone would be okay for one night without?"

[m-inervykins]

Silence [Open RP]

Silence.

Now, how long has it been since Gerome has experienced such a thing? He can remember small bouts of the leisure when he was an infant, but that was it. The rest of his mind floods with flashbacks of horrendous things- fighting the Risen, seeing Minerva fly back, mother not present… He shakes his head, relieving himself of those painful thoughts. Ah, if only he could forget those memories; forget, forget. But he knows he can’t. That would be disrespectful to his parents, whom he cherished beyond belief, disrespectful to his fellow time-travellers, disrespectful to the two tacticians that he may have a sliver of tolerance for. Next to him, Minerva plops down on the grass, a rumbling sound akin to a purr emanating from the wyvern. Gerome gives a small chuckle and gently strokes her rough skin.

"You’re tired of all this, too, aren’t you?" he inquires, though he knows that he isn’t an expert at dictating Minerva’s speech. Not like Moth- Cherche. Not like Cherche. "Go on. Go to sleep, girl. I can take care of the patrolling"

Right. Patrolling. That’s what he was doing. It slips from him for only a fraction of a  minute, but he gets back to it right away.

But boy, does Gerome hate being alone with his thoughts. They roam and linger onto unwanted memories, unneeded ideas. So he is a bit grateful, albeit suspicious, when a twig snaps. Now, twigs snapping in the middle of the night do not bode well in terms of likelihood. He clenches onto his axe for safety measures, and circles around to the origin of the sound as quietly as he can. Spotting a figure, the wyvern rider squints hard to see whom has disrupted the peace, but cannot make out for sure who it is. He creeps behind the mystery person, and taps them lightly on their shoulder. Depending who they are and what their answer is to his question of, “What are you doing out here so late?”, they may find themselves a grave person the next day…

Or this could be a very awkward exchange.

Frankly, he doesn’t want either.

[ylissestactician]

He doesn't feel the touch on his shoulder until too late, and jumps ashamed-like about 3 feet in the air. When Robin realizes it's only Gerome, the tactician at least has the audacity to appear sheepish.

"Hello Gerome." Robin's always known Gerome in particular of the children to be a bit more difficult to understand, and only was understood when he wanted to be, so opted to approach him rather cautiously. "I'm, uh..." The tactician groped wildly for a proper response instead of his real answer, being restless in his sleep. "Patrolling." Somehow, that answer didn't sound quite right.

[ylissestactician]

[cleared my posts, for the most part. and now, bed.]

[ylissestactician]

Open RP

[lethebound-deactivated20140410]

Morgan winced at what was hopefully the last time her father’s head would be intimately acquainted with a pot. At least now she knew what the loud noises she heard earlier was. “Are you sure?” she asked dubiously, watching him clutch at his head.

At any rate, her boredom had finally abated. She sank down onto the floor next to father, tucking her legs primly beneath her. “Of course it’s no trouble!” she said cheerily. Going by the ruckus she heard (which definitely wasn’t the regular cooking noises), and how he was focused enough on something to be startled by her, she could assume he was searching for something. “What do you want me to do? You’re looking for something, right? And since you’re cooking soup, it must be an ingredient!” Morgan deduced smugly.

[ylissestactician]

"Of course I am," Robin waved his small injury away with a hand as if nothing had happened. He smiled casually, even though it seemed like his head was berating him for the poor abuse they were going for. "Perfectly fine." 

The tactician watched his daughter with an amused glance as she started showing signs of impatience, a mass amount of questions, and for something to do. That was Morgan, all right, never staying still for more than a few minutes if it could be helped. "That's right, I was looking for an ingredient." She looked so proud of herself for figuring that out, he patted her head. "I was looking for salt. Do you want to help me?"

[ylissestactician]

Open RP

[lethebound-deactivated20140410]

Bore, bored, boring, BORED. How could there be nothing to do? Granted, Morgan had finished her chores for the day, successfully completed her daily training regimen, and even managed to slog through a particularly dense chapter of her tactics book, which left the rest of the day free. She supposed she could continue studying, but as much as her goal was to surpass her father as a tactician, sometimes a girl’s just gotta have her fun! Besides, she simply had too much energy to sit around and concentrate; it would be a terribly inefficient use of time. 

Huffing softly, she walked through camp, looking for someone to entertain her. But everyone Morgan passed was either terribly busy with one thing or another, taking some much needed rest, or napping. She wasn’t desperate enough to bother anyone (yet), so her search proved unfruitful.

Sighing, Morgan was about to give up and take a nap herself when she heard some sort of commotion coming from… the kitchen? There was an awful amount of noise- far too much to be normal. If she remembered correctly, her father was on kitchen duty toni- Oh no! What if he’s in trouble?! 

Almost running into the doorway in her haste, Morgan breathed a soft sigh of relief when everything looked to be alright, despite the loud noises she heard earlier. No one was being attacked, and nothing was on fire. Good. Well, now that she was here, she might as well go help her father prepare dinner. “Father? Is everything alright? Do you need any help?”

[ylissestactician]

Robin was still having much trouble finding the salt, and for the life of him, could not find any. He debated on just giving up and asking someone to quickly run down to the market, but it was late. It could cause problems, have room for ambushes, anything could happen.  

The tactician was still thinking until, "Morgan? Ouch!" The sudden sound of his daughter's voice caused the tactician to bang his head on yet another pot while he had been searching. Half distracted, Robin clutched his head in pain, sitting up into a crosslegged position on the floor. 

"I'm fine! I'm alright. If it's not too much trouble..." 

[ylissestactician]

Open RP

He couldn't find the salt.

That was Robin's only thought as he went about the kitchen, trying to search for it almost desperately. It was his turn at cooking duty, and he had the idea of making stew with bread to dip it in for a simple, yet yummy dinner for the army that always seemed endlessly hungry. 

But there was no salt.

The tactician could've sworn there was salt, but no matter where he looked, it seemed to elude him. Sighing, he looked over to the stew still boiling over the stove and rubbed his head.Perhaps salt could fall out of the sky, or nobody would notice the unsalted stew. Robin rolled his eyes at both possibilities and tried to search once more, even banging his head once on a hanging pot above him. The ruckus was bound to cause someone to look in, but looking for the salt was the only thing on the tactician's mind.