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Post by Olivia Shin-Ra on Nov 5, 2009 9:43:25 GMT -5
Lu leaned forward, until her face was mere inches from Trevoiaus', and placed her hand upon his, "Only insofar as you can trust in an ally's motivation to complete the task at hand." She lifted her hand from his and gave his nose a playful little flick as she leant away and returned to her wine.
She knew that Trevoiaus was trustworthy. She knew that she could count on him. He was a good man.
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Post by RaShayRitto on Nov 6, 2009 0:55:06 GMT -5
He sighed and stood up straight. It wasnt an issue he could really press, as everyone had their own way of doing things. Perhaps she was right--perhaps they both were. Trevoiaus crossed his arms and shifted his weight to the right as he regarded her once more. He would take a chance on her, he decided. If nothing else, she could probably slay dragons with her sharp tongue, he thought as he shook his head and grinned. "Well, lady Alluveal, I hope we can test our theories together in the coming days."
He picked up his spear that was leaning on the bar and turned to face her once more. "But if there's any way I can be of use to you tonight, just say the word," He would not be retiring to the lodge for some time. There was still his equipment that needed tending to but that could wait til the morning.
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Post by Olivia Shin-Ra on Nov 8, 2009 1:00:38 GMT -5
Alluveal erupted in laughter, "Oh, I'm sure! You're not that lucky, Trevoiaus." She knew that's not what he meant, but she just had to get that one last stab in. She finished off the remainder of her wine and set the glass on the bartop behind her. "Nine. Tomorrow morning. Here."
As Alluveal stared at Trevoiaus waiting for his response, the door behind her creaked open, her gargantuan sword lifted from the counter and 'floated' into the space, the door closing swiftly behind it.
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Post by RaShayRitto on Nov 8, 2009 1:52:56 GMT -5
"Morning?" he echoed, easily brushing off her jests. He turned to look at the aftermath of that night. The hall looked like someone set off a powder keg filled with mugs and mutton within the room. Fresh blood stains from the day's wounds were scattered near the entrance and down the corridor to the infirmary. Trevoiaus winced a little, recalling that he was certainly a major contributor today. Well whatever Lu could possibly need in the morning, he might as well check in then. The blacksmith was closing up shop as well, so tending to his equipment would have to wait.
He sighed and took his leave, heading for the large wooden doors. The cold from the outside tore through the warmth of that place like a spear when the doors creaked open. With a glance and back-handed wave to Alluveal, he was gone. The courtyard was eerily lit by the white of the full moon and not a sound came from the nearby trees aside from the light rustings of the leaves in the chilling breeze. There was no life here, after all. The checkpoint was nestled within the deepest reaches of the fog, and even though it was always filled to the brim of colorful characters it always felt somewhat lonely. Years of living in such an oppressive environment could really wear a man down, but it could not compare with the feeling of loss that everyone inevitably experienced there. Many came to the checkpoint for the first time in groups or pairs, and by the year's end they would be working alongside complete strangers--their comrades long dead.
As all these thoughts raced through Trevoiaus' head he found his feet taking him not to the lodge across the yard, but toward the sparring grounds. To the left of the archery targets there was a small opening in the trees. He was very familiar with where it led for he often went there when sleep would not open her arms for him. He climbed the rock formation like a child scaling a familiar tree in his home town, eventually standing on the peak and looking over the fog-ridden landscape as the moonlight caught the edges of his battered armor. Just to the left of him was the roof of the tavern, the sounds of the staff emenating from the open doorway leading down to the backroom behind the bar. One day he should jump to the roof and tamper with the stores, just to give Lu a headache, he thought with a slight smirk that quickly faded away. Tomorrow he would be starting anew for the first time since he arrived at the checkpoint a few months ago. It certainly wasnt the first time he was starting over, though.
Far from it...
edit: (adding on)
Today he had lost a dear friend, but he maintained his composure around his fellow warriors. Trevoiaus was always in control and reliable. He was this way not just for the benefit of himself but for those around him. Alone on his perch, however, he allowed himself a brief rest--a moment to just be Trevoiaus the man. He inhaled sharply, the frigid air filling his lungs, and roared into the deafening silence. He remembered Dante, and he remembered the demons of his past. His pain echoed over the training grounds and drowned out the sounds from the taven nearby.
As his voice died down he found himself standing like a beast about to pounce. He had somehow planted his spear into the rock on which he stood, the bladed tip now warped beyond use. After examining himself he broke into laughter and sat down. That was that.
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Post by RaShayRitto on Dec 25, 2009 8:59:03 GMT -5
The ringing of steel sounded through the still largely empty hall. Trevoiaus sat on an upturned barrel as he watched the old blacksmith repair the various plates of his torso armor. He was leaning forward, both elbows resting on his thighs. The old man was hardly pleased to see how much work Trevoiaus needed done at the very start of his shift but his mutterings provided plenty of entertainment for the soldier. With his upper body currently bare, it was clear or anyone that Trevoiaus had a long military career. He bore many scars, most of them light in color and not near vital areas. The freshest ones were far worse. Although the mage's potion had saved him from death it would still take time for his wounds to heal. His muscled back was particularly hard to look at. It was riddled with bruises of various hues surrounding dark cuts and gashes. It looked painful, but the man seemed well enough. He had a mischeivous grin on his face and chuckled every now and then to himself.
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Post by Olivia Shin-Ra on Jan 13, 2010 11:58:53 GMT -5
Nearly opening time. But the doors would open for only one man, today. Alluveal cinched the drawstring on her pack tightly shut, having finished packing. With a yawn, she turned to the kettle behind her on the small wood-burning stove and retrieved the now screaming container, pouring its contents into a large mug. Morning coffee. It had been a while. Sipping gingerly from the mug, she reached to the oaken closet door behind her, drawing the massive blade from within and setting it on the counter. Just a couple more hours and Trevoiaus would be arriving.
She pondered the implications of what was about to happen. It had been an incredibly long time since she had bothered to take on a partner for the world outside the checkpoint. But every once in a blue moon, Lu felt anxious. There were many secrets she held, and she had the feeling that Trevoiaus would soon learn a great number of these. She sipped from her mug as she leaned against the counter in wait.
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Post by RaShayRitto on Jan 25, 2010 0:31:03 GMT -5
He exhaled deeply and rolled his shoulders under the familiar weight of his heavy armor. Since the age of 14, Trevoiaus had spent his every waking moment shouldering the physical burdens of combat protection. When he didn't have it on it was as if his own skin was missing. He wasn't unnerved by the reduced protection, for he had no fear of pain, It was simply because his well honed movements were all developed with pounds of resistance in all directions. The floorboards groaned slightly as he stepped forward, but the soldier moved as swiftly as any man wearing common clothes.
His soft eyes scanned the main hall as he turned the corner and noted the lack of patrons making preparations. Perhaps they all felt it too...The fog that engulfed Boletaria seemed to be as living as the foulness it spawned. While its presence was always ominous and threatening, there were days when the air felt so thick with malice it was literally suffocating. "Black Days" as they were commonly called amongst the fighting classes. Most avoided venturing out in such times for the hordes seemed stronger and greater in number when the fog felt so evil.
He slowed to a stop as he neared the bar, smiling and humbly bowing his head to the woman before him. "...Lu" he said in an acknowledging tone as he unceremoniously took the mug she was drinking from. He took a slow sip and propped an elbow on the counter top. "You don't look as pretty this early in the morning" he said very nonchalantly.
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