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Mage taking a break; Aji/ruslan.
Topic Started: Feb 25 2017, 07:46 AM (173 Views)
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Wide golden orbs gazed on the righteous and epic site of the city before him. Surely this is the knight's city he'd heard about. A place that canceled out a wizard's abilities.

It was a splendid site, and the young man could feel a sort of excitement well up within him.

Grand! Majestic! No words would properly suffice to convey the overwhelming sense of awe that weighed down on his shoulder like a boulder. Beauty that makes it easy to forget to breathe. Yet the unease it brought was not insignificant either. While the fashionable elder teen had spent most of his life without magic of his own, he'd grown attached these last few years. Being without it at hand would make him hesitate several times before stepping into the city.

And then, once he was inside the city limits, he'd become at ease. It wasn't because of the tingly, odd feeling of a lack of a part of himself. That wasn't exactly a good feeling. But being inside a city full of knights, there was some comfort in that.

His steps were relatively quiet as he let his stomach guide him. There were many wonderful sights, certainly, but as much as it would pain him to admit, beauty does not fill the belly.

He paused his wandering at some random water fountain, contemplating which scouted eatery he should visit.
Edited by crawkid, Feb 25 2017, 07:48 AM.
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^ Mood.

Chrysanthemum. The Military Capital of Fiore, some called it. A veritable stronghold of a city, guarded by legions upon legions of the Knights of Fiore's best, defended by stout walls that had withstood the test of time that spanned many generations, and home to the significant bulk of the kingdom's military personnel. The Provisional Capital of Fiore, others stated, home to High Castle Arlan and other wondrous sites and buildings that served no small amount of significant and strategic purposes were it that Crocus or Era were to fall. To Ruslan Gudleifr however, the fortress city had but one connotation: Home.

It was here that the knight had spent much time at, time that had progressed in such a pace, with so much learned, that the area could've been a second home for him, seemingly a place where he had spent most of his life living within. From attending school and mandatory training within the resplendent halls of the Royal Knight's Academy, to time spent standing vigil outside the hallowed grounds of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, Chrysanthemum had been as much of a home to the man as Seven had been, if not more so. Rare was it that the private felt unsafe or wary, nestled on the safe side of those intimidating bulwarks; it was more than he could say for his homeland, where peril and danger lurked around just about every corner. It was here that the private had eked out a meager life, maintaining the apartment room that he had opted to stay within, rather than the austere chambers of a military dormitory. It was within Chrysanthemum that the knight had been outfitted and equipped, trained to utilize the weapons and armor that he had become all too familiar with, garbed in the trademark militaristic ensemble that denoted a member of Fiore's armed forces.

Yet, upon arriving back within the city that he had thought he'd become all too familiar with, Ruslan was taken aback. Gone were some of the roadside stalls and vendors; so too were a fair amount of the pedestrians and passersby. Chrysanthemum before the expedition into Bosco had been a bustling place, a crowded city teeming with nonchalant men and women, rife with an underlying, but ever present sense of vim. Perhaps, in the wake of the war, and the horrific casualties that had followed, were such people–nonactive duty members, reservists, and the like–fast being mobilized and deployed as well.

That wasn't to say the city was lifeless; merely more quiet and subdued than it had been months before. Still, here and there, could the figures of men, women, elders, and children be seen. The various shops that emulated what civilians had to offer–restaurants, hotels, cafes, markets–were still open, and none the worse as far as business seemed. Indeed, apart from the factors that had been affected from the war, Chrysanthemum still seemed to be thriving, if only less populated than before.

Ruslan moved onward, burdened by his rucksack, headed through a plaza toward that same, cobble-tiled, downtrodden and beaten path that snaked its way slowly toward the apartment complex whereupon he resided. But it was as he did so that he spotted a most peculiar fellow who seemed lost, resting at the base of a water fountain at the very center of the square. He was an elegant young man, with a mane of neatly groomed hair the color of snow, with a build that seemed comprised of more sinew than muscle, that belied a particular jenesaisquoi that the private was unable to express in words. What he was able to discern however, was that the person appeared lost, and that perhaps it would be within his best interest to assist.

"You seem lost," stated he matter-of-factly. "Need assistance?"
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He was in his contemplation, juuuuust about ready for his thoughts to drift onward to some other topics. He'd also undone his hair, and quietly rebraided the mass of silky tendrils. It was like cleaning his nails, something to keep his hands occupied while he thought. Choosing a food place shouldn't take too long..

Then footsteps caught his attention, because they were closer than most of the others. This wasn't a common occurrence for the young traveler, and he turned to look with some curiosity and tentative happiness...lest it a not so innocent occasion.

Not that he felt the idea that he'd get mugged was very likely, with this being the knight's capitol, but it was something one just learned to expect and ingrain into their instincts when traveling.

He quickly tied off the fresh braid, letting it sit over his shoulder as was usual. In a sweep, his eyes cast about the stranger. His leg, possibly noticed. But it was the general appearance of who was talking to him that was important first.

He smiled though, ever friendly and willing to have conversation with those likewise.

"Not so lost in person, hopefully. But lost on what to do. I'm just a traveler, looking to rest and stock up....and eat." He pauses a moment as his hunger persists and reminds him why he was sitting there in contemplation. "Could you recommend a place?"
Edited by crawkid, Mar 4 2017, 09:54 PM.
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^ Mood.

A traveler, looking to stock up and rest. A wanderer, bereft of food or drink. Such was the situation of the man that sat at the base of the square's water fountain. Rare was it nowadays that there were travelers that came to Chrysanthemum, looking merely for naught but a place to sightsee. More often than not, those who arrived were new prospectives to the knights, soon to be squires to attend training at the Academy, before being deployed to wherever they may be assigned. To that end, the well-kempt fellow in front of him was an oddity, but a pleasant one in stark contrast to the underlying atmosphere of war and subdued anxiety that pervaded many within the city. Thus was it, that Ruslan replied as best as he could, to address the sightseer's needs, in a manner that emulated the superior whom he had long looked up to.

"That I can," answered the private frankly.

The plaza that the man had situated himself in was located in an ideal portion of Chrysanthemum proper, being close to a variety of locations that would be conducive to alleviating his plight. The square was a junction from which the residential and commercial districts could be easily reached, areas in which there were ample enough board and food to satiate the fellow. Cafes that specialized in a myriad of aromatic and exotic coffees and teas, beer halls that specialized in both alcoholic beverages and hearty, protein-packed meals, and much more that catered to a variety of different tastes and tongues. There were buildings within Chrysanthemum, from high-rise hotels to homely little inns, that too, would prove able to cater to the traveler's preferences. Though, as to what he might prefer, Ruslan knew not.

"There's a diner nearby called Kenny's that serves comfort food at cheap prices, that I like to frequent," suggested the knight to the immaculately dressed wanderer, "Though for fine-dining, the Crow's Nest on Gold Street is a good choice as well."

Kenny's was indeed a suitable option, especially for one lacking in funds, such as himself. The food that the diner served–skillets, dorias, gratins, burgers–was a cut above the typical rations that the private was issued or received at the refectories and mess halls that he more often than not also dined in; and at cheap prices, the meals were more than affordable for a stretched budget. But then again, not all of the meals there were refined in comparison to the Crow's Nest; baked beans and molasses could only go so far against grouper carpaccio, and quality beef, imported from Pergrande.

"If you're looking for somewhere to rest, there's also a pub down this street that doubles as an inn. Got any particular preferences in mind?"

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Fredrik kept that small smile as he listened to the helpfulness of this one. His fingers lightly tangled with the spare ends of his braid. A light chuckle escaped him as his guide brought up fine dining, but other than that, he only listened, nodding.

"I do have a bit of coin on me, but not enough to splurge on that fine food of the town." he started, though the truth was his tastebuds weren't entirely as refined as his dress was. He pauses a bit, with some thought and nodded again, this time to himself. "This Diner sounds good, though does this pub also have food to enjoy? It might be good to get both food and lodging in a single stop..." he was saying, giving it some thought but also as a real question.

" Or how about...you join me for the meal? Of the reasonable prices areas, you can do the choosing for me" He smiled, feeling like this was a simple answer to everything, provided that free to come along with Fredrik.

He grabbed his scant belongings, thinking that maybe later, he might be sitting back on this fountain...or drawing it. It might be nice to practice his sketching of things other than clothing. The architecture here had its own brand of charm that was noticably different than most places he'd passed through. A few sketches to remember later wouldn't be too bad to grab when he could. Maybe it'll even be a good inspiration for a design or two later. Though, usually his preference was for a bit more flowing of a design, there was nothing to say he couldn't try some other things. Innovation, even in fashion, comes from taking chances after all!

Without noticing, he slipped into deeper thinking. The type that could easily be mistaken as daydreaming by those inclined to believe him to be wistful and given to such things.
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^ Mood.

Choices, choices. To splurge on food or scrape only the slightest amount of jewels from his savings. As the wanderer deferred his judgement to the knight's own, so too did Ruslan begin to ponder over the choices to be had.

A wise man once said that quantity has a quality all its own. Wait, that doesn't necessarily apply to enjoying food now, does it?

Kenny's was a solid choice by all means, and the man was a frequent patron of the chain of family restaurants, but perhaps it was the fact that the staff at the nearby branch knew his face and name that he felt somewhat adventurous for a change. It was strange, amusing really; to think that it took a traveler from outside the walls to in turn spur a divergence in his own habits.

"Well, I suppose we can look around the general vicinity. This place is pretty convenient if you're looking to eat and shop 'till you stop and drop."

The knight gestured with a calloused hand toward the road ahead, one of many that intersected across the plaza's roundabout. It trailed onward like a great snake, winding across terraced houses and various shops, before stopping at a verdant park lush in vegetation. Maybe there were some other cafes or small restaurants along the way, where they could avail themselves of their products.

"Shall we?"

"Name's Ruslan, by the way. I presume you're here for leisure?"

Amidst the throngs of knights and civilians alike did they continue down their path, with the looming spires of High Castle Arlan in the foreground. In the distance, the sounds of artillery drills could scarcely be heard from atop the bulwark, academy students in training perhaps. The usual humdrum of the city had not ceased at all with His Majesty's momentous declaration and the subsequent campaign; and yet there was a forlorn jenesaisquoi that the soldier sensed as he strode down paths both trod and untrod. Perhaps the traveler too, sensed this underlying feeling beneath Chrysanthemum's resplendent exterior as well. Though, it may have been for the better if he had just been oblivious to it all.

Hopefully this would all end soon though.

The sounds of mortars barked again, a volley of muffled thumps scarcely heard in the distance. Light gleamed from the stained glass atrium of a complex in the Cathedral Quarter as the sun continued on its weary pace, and shimmered upon the streets of the Trade District where they strolled. Most importantly however, was the pungent aroma of a hearty dish that caught the man's attention–and more importantly his stomach. The source: A small shop with banners written in the Caelumese script, with customers slurping comfortably on counter seating. A ticket machine lay outside, with the shop's specialties displayed for all to see.

"Pork Bone Noodle Soup Set A. 900 Jewels. What a steal."

The knight inserted his money into the machine, idling by with glee as it disgorged a simple ticket stub, indicating his order. And as he clutched his order/receipt within his hand, so too did he gesture for the traveler to follow.

"Anything that suits your fancy?"
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