RP MEME: MEDIEVAL TIMES

[cerebel]

Pick a scenario, post with your character and roll for the scene. Or just pick. That's cool too.

For the setting:

1) CASTLE. Throne rooms, private chambers, long hallways.
2) TAVERN. Rough-hewn tables, rough-hewn clientele.
3) DUNGEONS. Iron bars, rusty chains, and terrible food.
4) JOUST. The knights of the realm are battling.
5) FIELDS. It's a hard, long day working to grow food.
6) MARKET. There's a well, there are some craftsmen selling things. It's a medieval mall.

And once you've decided the setting, decide your role:

1) ROYALTY. You are a King, Queen, Prince, Princess or close relative.
2) KNIGHT. You are a warrior of the realm.
3) WITCH/WIZARD. Official court magician? Crazy old lady with a lot of herbs? You decide.
4) PEASANT. Yeah, your life sucks.
5) CRAFTSMAN. Blacksmith, woodworker. Apprentice or master is up to you.
6) SERVANT. Your life is utterly devoted to the one you serve.
BONUS: 7) TIME TRAVELER. ???

Comments

Lance | Pokemon Adventures manga | 2 & 2

[wantsdragonspls]

[That man sitting in the corner of the bar there? That is the renowned dragonslayer, Sir Peter. According to popular tale, he's slain at least four dragons, possibly more, and rooted out two nests. He has the keys to three cities and is richer than the king.

[Strangely enough, he dresses somewhere between a peasant and a craftsman, without much evidence of riches. He's not even wearing the custom-made dragonhide armour most dragonslayers do. Nor is he bragging. All in all, the sight really does not match up to the stories, especially since he's listlessly eating a bowl of tavern soup instead of going someplace with real food.

[The observant will notice that every now and then the spoon flicks a piece of offal down into his lap. Whenever he does, there's movement under his cloak and a squeaky little growl. Maybe he's hiding a cat under there ...?]

[polarization]

[ The man's squire doesn't take much longer to arrive. He notices the way Sir Peter is sharing his food with his lap, yet wisely says nothing as he sits opposite the man. ]

Sir?

[ A request to speak. They aren't exactly on the best of terms that he can be given it freely. ]

[wantsdragonspls]

[A heavy sigh. He has to give it to this brat; he's persistent. No matter how many marketplaces 'Peter' loses him at, no matter how many times he pulls up camp early and leaves the lad in the forest, the brat comes springing back. He'd told that bloody noble he didn't want or need a squire, but nooooo.]

What?

[polarization]

[ Eh, close as he'll get. He sips from his own, watered-down drink before he actually continues. ]

I heard several of the ladies in the marketplace outside speaking your name. It seems they've learned of your presence and are waiting for you to leave so they can speak with you.

[ Read: fangirls. Run. ]

[wantsdragonspls]

[Oh, wonderful. He grimaces; this is one of the reasons he does actually come to taverns like this instead of one of the higher-class ones. The noble ladies aren't as likely to come in here. Then again, the worst of them usually view it as an adventure. Time to go.

[Without a word to Sefton he sort of shrugs his shoulders to rearrange his cloak, which reveals absolutely nothing in his lap (though someone observant may notice a shifting lump moving under his arm, over his shoulder and under his hood). Then he stands, but instead of making for the door he goes around for the stairs. There's rooms up there; he can sneak out a window and avoid the insipid women.]

[polarization]

[ Sefton turns to watch the front door as it begins to creak open with the sound of raucous, feminine voices make it through. He stands, hand sliding along and off the wood of the table as he does, and moves to follow his master at a respectful distance. (Not so far back that the man would be able to lose him, though. Not here, not now.)

The voices raise, joined by a few male questions of confusion. The door has jammed, how unfortunate for them? ]

[wantsdragonspls]

[... Hm. Lance casts a look at the door and then a considering glance back at Sefton. Brat's earning his keep for the moment, at least. He still doesn't say anything, though; just makes his way upstairs, out a window, down the narrow alley and skirting around the marketplace. He's moving quickly down the street, eyes ahead, when he speaks.]

You did that.

[Not a question.]

[polarization]

Followed you?

[ It's not quite playing dumb, simply an instinctive reaction to someone catching on to his talents. Sefton keeps up quite easily and isn't exactly surprised at "Peter's" abrupt question. He's just an abrupt sort of guy. ]

[wantsdragonspls]

Don't be a fool.

[Sneered. He's not going to tolerate stupidly evasive comments, boy. either you be smart or you be gone, and he's not convinced you're smart enough yet.]

[polarization]

[ Slight pause. ]

It seemed appropriately subtle. Didn't want to cause a stir.

[wantsdragonspls]

[Lance grunts but doesn't say anything else or ask just what the boy did. Mostly the redhead's just assuming he used a stick of wood or some such thing. Useful, but still not worth the company.]

Obviously I'm not going to be able to stay there. Go find me another tavern.

[polarization]

We can find one together.

[ aka, he realizes his master is trying to be rid of him and is too drained from the magic to suck it up like he has been doing and let him 'escape'. ]

[wantsdragonspls]

[He stops, turns and gives the brat a hard look.]

I have some business I need to see to. Go.

[Or else. He flicks his fingers at Sefton and turns to continue his walk away.]

[notwithoutmyhat]

[Unnh, she's so sleepy. It's been a long journey from the closest larger town, what with all the smaller towns in between and everyone needs hurts healed. But she couldn't turn anyone down! She couldn't ever.

There's a tavern here, though, so at least she might be able to get some rest and a warm meal—though not without clutching her hat to her head, since it's dangerous to be a young lady traveling alone and it's best not to look too much like one.

She leans a little wearily on the bar—incidentally, next to Sir Peter, though she doesn't notice—and waves down the tavernkeep.]

Good sir? A meal for a weary traveler, please.

ilusm <3 shall we have them able to recognise each other, y/n?

[wantsdragonspls]

[He shifts away, throwing an irritable glance down at the too-closeness (all he sees is the brim of a straw hat; no face). The thing under his cloak snuffs a bit, and the fabric lifts--just a bit. As if for something to peer out.

['Peter' yanks his cloak back down with a growl, turning away to slide off his stool on the opposite side to the newcomer.]

I AIM TO PLEASE also yessss

[notwithoutmyhat]

[Yellow could really do with a lie-down about now, but she should at least be able to manage to stay awake through dinner.

She becomes more alert, though, as her neighbor shifts suddenly, with a low growl, and moves away—

She knows him. Does she? Is it really—

Well, one way to find out.]

Sorry, sir, 'scuse me...

>D

[wantsdragonspls]

[Hrmph. That voice did sound familiar, but 'Peter' had been around a lot of places and met a lot of people, and it could belong to anyone. Still, he glances irritably over his shoulder at the newcomer.]

What?

[He still can't really see any face. There's too much hat in the way, and the youth is too short for him to see under it. Even that sight niggles something in his mind, though.]

[notwithoutmyhat]

[She can see plenty of his face, on the other hand, and the shock of her suspicion being confirmed sends her toppling backward over her stool, hat flying off.]

You! Ah, uwaaugh—

[wantsdragonspls]

[He freezes, staring for a few beats. Dammit. Dammit. Possibly the one person who knew who he really was, who knew the whole dragonslayer act was just that--who knew why he'd even want it to be. And he had to run into her here of all places.

[He snarls without meaning to, taking a step back. The movement lets his cloak fall open a little--just enough to that, from her angle, she ought to be able to see a tiny dragonet clinging to his side and peering out from under the fabric. Then he yanks his cloak close back against his body, glancing a glare around at those who were watching in mild interest. None of them had seen the dragonet, and all of them turn hastily away. Who wants to mess with a dragonslayer and his mistress, or whatever she was?]

[notwithoutmyhat]

[Yellow's about to say something more—she's not really sure what at this point—but seeing the dragonet clinging to Lance—it is Lance—leaves her speechless.

Then again, she's not entirely sure why she's so surprised. Of course he would. He'd always been kind even to the most feared of creatures. She was only more surprised to see him here, of all places—in a town, among people. Among humans. Those whose towns and villages he'd once laid waste to.

She's wary, but there's something in how he carries himself now that makes her hesitate in passing judgement. She lowers her voice; low enough that the din of the tavern covers it easily so as not to be overheard. Her tone is mild, with a slight note of concern.]

Lance. ...What are you doing here?

if she would object to being manhandled, let me know and i'll repost.

[wantsdragonspls]

[He hisses wordlessly in objection to his name being said out loud in such a public place, even quietly. Reaching down, Lance yanks her to her feet and drags her away from the bar, searching for a more solitary corner. There is none, so he opts for outside instead, a narrow alley connecting to the kitchen door. He takes an automatic deep breath of relatively fresh air, and then whirls on her, dropping her arm.]

Be. Quiet.

[The name 'Lance' has a bounty on it, and he'd much rather not get killed by all the mercenaries in the tavern.]

[notwithoutmyhat]

[She squeaks, but doesn't say anything—this conversation really should be had in private.

...and if he was going to try to harm her, he would have done so already. Maybe. As he lets her go, she scrambles back a little bit, to give herself some space, and shuffles her feet a little, nervously.]

I... I was surprised to see you here.

[wantsdragonspls]

Why? Surprised to see me in their kind of company?

[His lip curls as he gestures back toward the tavern.]

Or did you actually believe I was dead?

[notwithoutmyhat]

Believed you were dead? Never.

[She knows him well enough to know better than that. But—

Her eyes drift toward where she caught sight of the dragonet, and her tone softens.]

Where did you find him?

[wantsdragonspls]

[His hand automatically moves protectively to the faint lump under his cloak, fingers ghosting over it in an almost-caress.]

Her. None of your business. Why are you here?