Aegis, Steel, and the Tulip. [Closed]

[Ven]

Sun grazed against the surface of the calm waterway- attributing to the serene surroundings. This trip was to be no more than a few hours, and taking the ferry was a small price to pay considering swimming was the other alternative. He counted his blessings in stride, and was quite thankful he could muster up enough loose change to pay for his trip to Radasanth; which was ranked quite high on his priorities list; and would be a well off investment. A light breeze tussled through his spiked burnt blonde hair; deep blue optics traced the surface of the horizon for any sign of the land ahead. Excitement piled inside of his chest, along with the frustration that this trip was taking a bit longer than expected.

His beggar-esque attire wasn’t every becoming which gave cause for people to suspect him readily without a second glance, and the wooden sword at his side made him look rather ridiculous. The over sized shirt/trouser combination he wore was rank with the smell of perspiration, blood, and mud which kept people a safe ways away from him. The only thing that saved him from being completely ostracized was his attractive features, and what could be made out of his build even still his facial features were smudge with dirt. It wouldn’t have been surprising if several passengers would have been tempted to toss him o’er board to at least dampen the horrid smell.

But Ven was completely obvious to the fact that people slowly crept further away from him, or scattered when he passed through a large crowd.

However, he did take into consideration the beautiful sight that was before him. Land became a growing vista on the horizon, from what could have been mountainous terrain, to the peaking spires of a city it was all he could do to prevent himself from jumping ship headlong. Soon enough though there was the dock, from Ven’s perspective it seemed as though it was extending towards them growing longer and more extravagant, several families waited on the planked board-walk, and soon scattered as Ven leapt off the vessel. Worn boots smacked the wood of the port, and then he was off gripping the midst of the wooden sword and rushing head-long into the city of Radasanth.

The City of Heroes

He was soon admitted into the cities innards, with great reluctance at that. Even still he paid the guards no mind, weight shifted forward as he stood amazed by the magnificence of this city that he only heard about prior to this moment. The staggering blow of shock that the city delivered to the youngsters system caused him to tip and twirl along the ground which ended up causing him to bump into a loose haired lackluster soldier that seemed to have lived long past his days of pride and bragging. Ven looked him over, noticing the half-plate, and Great Sword that he carried along with brown hair and the eye color was a mystery, still all this taken into account didn’t prevent Ven from doing what need be.

At first he was hesitant, and that may have been his downfall already his hand had been placed with two fingers on the lip of the-would be knights pockets. And even though Ven had no intention of pick-pocketing anyone it would look completely different to the tall man in front of him.

[Braig]

Braig had finally come home. After years of wandering about the world, purposefully finding anything to prevent this homecoming, he had returned, and could already feel the changes beginning. People were a bit more cautious, nervous. On edge if anything, the guards seemed to swagger about, ready to throw their new found weight at the unfortunate victim of their petty pride and jealousy. It was an atmosphere of a kingdom on edge. Something that Braig had experienced once before, when the Gisela had broken out and soldiers flocked to be enlisted in the war games, not knowing their true intent.

He gripped his great sword tightly, not wishing to be parted with it. Not that he felt he was in danger, but more that he too was on edge. A true soldier of the Coronian Crown, he was more than certain with his training he could wipe the floor with any of these guards, it wasn't pride, nor was it arrogance, it was a statement. The country had grown lax, and its people, and consequently the soldiers, had too. They had no enemies other than the small band that had taken the logging town of Underwood. That however, was an insect that could be squashed by superior numbers, once the time was right.

As he moved through the crowd he stopped his helmet tucked under his arm, giving him full freedom of view. His eyes scanned the crowds for any threats, his paranoia kicking into overdrive. He hadn't survived this long by walking into tense situations unprepared. As he moved, he felt something brush against him, a vile stench assault his nostrils, and the next thing he saw, was the hand of a small boy entering his pockets. Indignation rose as he growled out, "Not even the decency to beg like the filth you are? You have to steal? Didn't your parent's teach you manners!?"

A gauntleted hand moved in a backhand designed to hit the boy, and cow him. He wasn't aiming a damaging blow to anything other than the boy's pride. His anger rose in equal measures. Such a filthy beggar, and to reek so horribly, so utterly careless of him to let such a foul smelling boy sneak up on him. Perhaps a bit of the rage he was feeling was self loathing at being sentimental about his town. He didn't know, what he did know, was he had a thief to punish, and punish he would, if only to keep the boy from suffering worse at the guards hands.

[Ven]

"Not even the decency to beg like the filth you are? You have to steal? Didn't your parent's teach you manners!?"

Came the growl from the ex-soldier, as Ven who was scarcely prepared for the sweeping jerk made by the ex-soldiers upper body, reacted the best way he could. His right hand responded, only because of constant practice with his wooden weapon which was hardly enough to block the gauntleted hand. However, it was dense enough to prevent the hand from landing firm against his face. The blow was strong, and the sword absorbed the brunt of the blow, and it shattered upon impact. Wooden splinters splayed through the air in a display of unhindered freedom.

The gauntlet still managed to work its way through the splinters and against Ven’s cheek, which caused his upper body to jolt to the left. Head rotated first, then his shoulders, hips, and legs his body spun through the air like a well twisted top. Dust rising from the cobble stoned ground in wake of his sudden movements; rising in a wisp that almost resembled a twisting spire. As his gyrating body touched the ground he rolled several times over before landing about a solid four to five feet from the ex-soldier. Blonde hair tussled and messed far beyond what it was before he got off the boat along with his clothes.

Feeble arms struggled to heave his upper body off the ground, as blood trickled in a fine line from the point of contact down against his chin. Ven’s arms began to quaver starting at the shoulders, and working his way through his forearms, and when he finally did stand up his shoulders were rolled forward hands dangling in front of his knees.

A bloody glob of spit struck the ground; his hand was brought to his mouth wiping away the access dribble that hung from his bottom lip. Already the cheek was starting to bruise his body whined, and complained telling Ven to lay down and take the strike as a lesson in humility. But Ven wouldn’t stand for an injustice, especially if he didn’t do anything wrong. His upper body yanked upright with a new found conviction pointing his index finger towards the half-plate wearing former soldier.

“You think you are so high and mighty! I didn’t try to steal from you; my hand was there only because of an accident. Did you not learn, do not judge a book by its cover, or are you just that hasty for a fight?”

Ven smiled sardonically, though he knew he was biting off more than he could chew he would rather it end like this, than for him to turn tail and give up.

[Aquia]

Water made way with many protestant splashes to adjust to the mass of feet playfully moving to and fro. Girlish laughs rang out as a group of four chased each other back and fourth, kicking up the river's water and occasionally wiping mud on the other. Mud slinging wasn't what one would think a bunch of girl would enjoy but on this so-far uneventful day, it was just the thing to make taking a bath much more worth it.

One of the four girls was of boyish appearance and went by the name of Aqua. Stopping short, she looked down at the sparkling blue eyes reflected back at her behind a frame of steel blue hair. Her face was thoroughly smudged with dirt and grime that she thought of as badges of a good day's play.

The rest of her wasn't as dirty as much as it was wet. Her dark blue trousers and blazer were almost black and luckily she wore a lighter blue vest over her white dress shirt. Her attire was a bit unusual for a young girl, to say the least. She was boyish and the look too formal for the environment she was in -almost like a business woman.

"Hey Aqua!" Another of the four children called, a young girl with straw blond hair and hazel eyes "Are you coming?"

"Yeah, coming!" Aura replied, quickly giving her face a rinse before sloshing her way to the river bank and climbing up the steep emerald hill.

The city of Heroes was always a sight to look at in the sunlight even though Aqua had lived there most her life. Perhaps, in her head, she only saw a shining city that practically radiated it's brilliance. There was always new people to meet and or something to do. Merchants filtered in and out while Aqua, even though she was only fourteen, enjoyed staying within the gates and selling to any kind person that would talk with her and hopefully leave with a pretty bouquet of flowers.

An almost direct conflict with her appearance, Aqua's personality was chipper and usually contagious. Everyone knew her by her marketing title: The flower girl. Most of the time she grew her own flowers out of a little square dirt patch in her backyard but every once in a while she'd pick some flowers and sell them on her way home. This day just happened to be one of those once in a whiles.

"Hey, are you coming?" Yet another one of the four children calling, this one with brunette hair and green eyes.

"Ah, I think I'm going to go home and change. I'll see you all later." Aqua waved goodbye to her three companions and got to her business.

Scatters of wild daisy were plucked by her tender hands as she made her way through the short lush grass. By the time she'd reached the dirt road there had to be no less than two dozen of the deceptive weeds in her small hand. Her childish innocence wouldn't realize the worthless value of these flowers but most grown-ups who knew better didn't dare ruin her fun and break the smile on the girl’s ever-loving expression.

"Hey!" Aqua stopped short and shouted as a kid around her age was struck to the ground by a large looking knight.


Oblivious as to the reason the boy was hit, she rushed over and looked first to the boy on the ground and then the old man standing over him. It was a silly thing to do, she should have minded her own business but she couldn't help but feel bad to see the boy being bullied even if he did smell horrid, as she could now tell.

"Would you like to be refreshed? I can cure mild weariness or heal any small cuts and bruises; all you have to do is buy a flower." Aqua smiled and held up the flowers in that innocent way she knew hardly anyone could resist.

(OOC: This is kind of cut short but hey, it's something even if it does slightly suck.)

[Braig]

Braig raised an eyebrow as he looked upon the fallen boy. Even when he tried to cow him, he remained bloodied but unbowed, the crimson spittle not only underlining the statement, but turning it from epitaph to reality. His eyes studied the boy, fully and truly as he focused on the child, his initial anger subsiding as he felt the sting of the boy's words. He knew not what he spoke of, but he certainly spoke fancy words, meant to instill pity from those about him.

He would have to change that, "Accident or not, a hand in another's pocket presents a bad image. An image that often calls into account the actual basis of that accident. Even if you said it was an accident, I cannot take it at face value. The cover may look good, but the pages within still are as rotten as your stench."

With those words the flower girl rushed forward, how with the stench even he did not know. However, he knew one thing; she was definitely an opportunist, offering to refresh him at the paltry price of a flower. As he eyed the two children however he heard the clank of armor behind him. His hand slammed the sword into the ground resolutely in-between the cobbled stone, causing a few of the nearby city dweller’s to jump as he looked over his shoulder to see two armored guards.

"Is there a problem soldier?" One of them asked him. The other seemed to pull out parchment to jot down notes.

Braig looked upon the boy and girl before he said curtly, "Nothing that hasn't been dealt with privates. You can move on with your watch."

"Where is your post supposed to be soldier?" The second guard asked jotting down more notes as he worked.

"I'm a free man, not under the crown anymore. Now get out of here, you're blocking traffic," Barked Braig showing a bit of the soldier's discipline.

The two men looked at each other before they jotted down more notes and walked off. Braig looked behind him at the two children, oblivious to what was going on with them before he shouted out, "See you around boy, and best watch your hands. In Radasanth, they cut the hands off thieves."