Prepare for the #LodanRespawn2024 Existing characters may choose to be displace from/have memories of different timelines, thereby allowing returning members the option to retcon their whole character. These changes are the result of the "Unnatural Fog" plot device that is running between now and the Respawn. The plot is simple: no matter where your character is, that place is shrouded in a thick fog that suspends time, but not thoughts or memories, so even if they're repeating the same day over and over again, they continue to remember, so each time feels like a new day. For those retconning OCs; this is where new versions of themselves have the opportunity to replace the old versions. Official lore and tree updates will be announced asap
She had family... dear God did she have more family than any sane person ever should.
She had allies... That's what guilds were good for, and hers had been loyal to her and she to it.
But what she didn't have were, well.... Friends. Clairee Donya, the youngest child of one of the most profitable farmers in the outer edge of Lodan, was friendless. Hell, at this rate she'd even settle for a Frienemy, as long as she had someone she could waste her thoughts on, rather than spinning circles in her head, drearily alone with hallow hopes and empty aspirations. Her lonely thoughts were driving her crazy, and they were ever vigilant. Seriously, her thoughts never shut up. Nearly out of her mind with self-annoyance, she'd walked hurriedly to the theater district for entertainment...
a distraction.
It wasn't until she got there that she realized she couldn't afford anything, and was left sitting outside... people watching.
Hint Hint... Clair wants to meet more people new and old acquaintances please feel free to pop in.
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on May 7, 2017 15:05:38 GMT
He had no family... dear God, but he was all alone in the world.
But he did have allies... So he supposed that he had a 'family' of sorts, which was more than some people ever got. Sure, the Brotherhood of Rogues was a rowdy bunch, and sure, half of them would stick him as soon as drink with him. And sure, they were often spread out so as not to alert authorities. But they were a family... in a way.
Friends? Friends were harder to come by. Thrakazog wasn't what one would call sociable, but neither was he against meeting people. The core of his problems stemmed from preconceptions and stereotypes. He was large. By large, one really couldn't say he was muscular - though he did have muscle. One couldn't cay he had a great physique, because he didn't, but he wasn't simply fat either. He was strong, and he had weight. He was thick, and stocky, but too tall to truly be called 'stocky'. He was different, that was for sure.
But physical appearances weren't his only issue. He had a speech impediment of sorts. It was a combination of childhood trauma and a dialect picked up from the poorest sections of Lodan that made him somewhat difficult to understand. When he spoke, people thought him stupid - or simple. He didn't use big words. But he wasn't unintelligent. He was a ship's mechanic, and knew his way around engines better than many. That's how he fell in with the Rogues - they accepted him because he kept the ship engines running (and probably because he was an easy source to poke fun at). It wasn't his childhood dream to become a rogue - but here he was. It was working. It gave him purpose. And perhaps most importantly, it put a roof over his head, and food in his ample belly. It was, a life.
But the lack of true 'friends' bothered him now and again, especially when the ships were all running properly and he had some downtime to think about life, and the universe. So on this particular day, he went to the Theater District for some kind of...
distraction.
He didn't have any real coin to speak of, so he couldn't pay for entertainment. But he did manage to purchase a loaf of bread and mug of water, and sat outside... people watching.
Post by Thomas "Tomcat" Thompson on May 8, 2017 19:01:32 GMT
Friendship was overrated. Sentiments of attachment were never sustainable - always wilting away, in the end, leaving only a husk. Perhaps there was a catalyst - transforming the relationship into something monstrous. Either way, such things were a waste of limited energy.
Tom needed no sort of friendship to distract himself. Strangers were much more... malleable.
This day, however, his brain begged for distraction - and he found himself joining the others searching for distractions in the theater districts, where distractions were of abundance.
It was no question that he couldn't afford to see a show, but he preferred to find entertainment by other means.
His purple eye scanned the sea of heads within the hustle and bustle. Chatter hovered as patrons of distraction argued with their friends on what shows they should see, discussed with their fellows what they had just witnessed, and the like. Within this mess of bodies, there were two things that stood out.
Two individuals, alone, one simply sitting there, still, the other with a piece of bread in hand.
They didn't seem quite distracted enough.
"Hey! Big man!" Tom called as he slithered over to the man holding the meal. "My my, what do we have here. What are you doing out here all alone, big man? Huh, it seems your friend over there is having the same sort of day." he turned towards where the dark-haired woman was sitting, calling "Oi, lady! Why're you both all alone? Lover's quarrel? Social ineptitude? C'mon over here!"
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on May 10, 2017 16:33:13 GMT
"Uhn?" Thrakazog responded to the call of 'big man' as eloquently as he did most things.
He looked towards the person who shouted, but didn't recognize him. Seeing him looking Thrak's way, Thrakazog decided to look back and over his own shoulder, to see if maybe this stranger was yelling to someone else. There were people there, but nobody that Thrakazog thought of as 'big'. Of course, he had a somewhat unique perspective in that regard. And by the time he moved his head back around, the strange man was fairly close to him, and still talking. It seemed, that he was the 'big man' after all.
He asked what Thrakazog was doing alone, and Thrakazog started to reply, temporarily forgetting the bread in his hand. "Ummm... me iz nub..."
He wasn't known for talking quickly, but neither was he speaking slowly on purpose. However, the fellow went on without waiting for his answer, saying that his friend was having the same sort of day.
Shocked and amazed that Lorraine would be here, and that he hadn't noticed her earlier, Thrak's eyes went wide, and he tried desperately to peer around to wherever the man might have seen her. His efforts were wasted though, as the woman this strange man was talking to certainly wasn't Lorraine. And then, the more Thrak thought about it, he didn't know how this person would know that he and Lorri were friends in the first place. He started to say something, "Ummm... dat's nub..."
But the man was going on, asking the person Thrak thought was Lorraine - but wasn't - if she and Thrak were having a lover's quarrel. If it was at all possible, Thrak's eyes widened even more, and he almost dropped his bread. He started to flush red, in his cheeks and the tops of his ears, and as he struggled for something to say in response, the man called the woman over. Finally, Thrakazog poorly protested a few syllables, "Wait! Nub! Me nub know who... we iz nub lovers! Me nub eben know her!"
Clairee heard the overly loud talking from the man with his eye sewn shut. She imagined anyone with ears could hear what he was saying to the.... well... the tall, intimidating, hulk of a -- then they were looking at her, and she was being Summoned! She pointed at herself stupidly as if to ask "Who me?" and then, for good measure, looked behind her expecting someone else. There was no one. No one but the side of a building, behind which other people were busy doing more interesting things she was sure.
"Oh, ok then..." she mumbled and got up, dusting off the back of her skirts from the dirty bench and crossed over to the other side of the walkway. "You had something to ask me?" What else could he possibly want? She didn't know either of them, and that.... was the irony of the situation. Wasn't she just thinking to herself about how many people she absolutely did not know? Her eyes fell to the ground, feeling invisible and incapable of holding eye contact with these strangers.
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on May 16, 2017 16:34:59 GMT
As the woman drew closer, Thrakazog looked hastily around, but the fellow who had teased him... or baited him... or whatever he'd done to call her over, had either blended in with the crowd, or disappeared altogether. Thrak couldn't see him. He did his best to try though, craning his neck all over - or rather, turning his torso this way and that, because saying he had a 'neck' was rather like saying he had a 'waist'. He had both of those things, of course, but his size and bulk didn't really define them.
He heard a voice, "You had something to ask me?"
He spun his attention back around as quickly as possible, dropping his small satchel of bread and water to the ground in his haste and surprise The satchel was basically a folded piece of canvas, wrapped with baling twine - something one might see a hobo utilize with a stick over one shoulder. And then his eyes went up to see the woman, and for the moment, he forgot about his lunch. She was looking down at the ground (thank heavens), so he didn't see her piercing eyes. But he could tell right away that she was from a different class of citizen than he. Her clothing was nicer, for starters, and she didn't appear to be as callused, or tanned from outdoor work like he was.
Self-consciously, he started to brush down his pants. They were called pants, because they covered his southern portion, but they were threadbare in spots, and had holes in others. Still other areas had grease and oil stains from his work - it wasn't like he had many sets of clothing - so to call them effective 'pants' was a bit of a stretch, as was the waistband. And no amount of straightening was ever going to make them look 'nice', but he tried anyway. Similarly, his shirt - though in better shape - was likewise stained from his labors. But at least they were relatively clean, for they didn't smell like fish. Interestingly, his boots were in much better shape - only a few months old, and fairly well cared-for. Caitlin had got them for him back around one of the festivals.
He greeted the woman in his usual deep baritone, "Ummmmm... ug dere, youz."
Thrakazog felt nervous, though he couldn't say why.
Post by Thomas "Tomcat" Thompson on May 17, 2017 18:03:25 GMT
Tom furrowed his brow and smiled, a sort of malevolent, judgmental expression, looking between the two and finally setting his gaze back upon the larger man. "What the hell are you even trying to say?" He shook his head, turning towards the woman, who seemed to be concentrating her attention towards the ground, nervous. "Ah, lass, you looked lonely. So did this... fellow.... I, for one, require distraction on such a day, and it seems you two do as well." The scraggy mess of a man snickered, swooping down to grab the giant's satchel as it lay on the ground. He twirled it around his wrist before holding it out towards the owner. A couple of timid individuals, eh? The big man stood out due to his ragged - and huge - appearance.... not to mention that Tom couldn't understand a word of what he was saying. The woman was a dainty creature, smooth skin, flowing dark hair. The two couldn't be more different, it seemed.
Post by Clairee Donya on May 23, 2017 13:44:32 GMT
Ug dere? that was a funny accent, it overcame her shyness and her eyes lurked upwards to take him in. There was a lot of him to take in, and a ways up for her to look, to wear she wasn't able to glance covertly but had to stare blandly. The other fellow ducked in and retrieved the fallen goods, returning them politely to their owner. To which he asked what Clairee was thinking: what are you saying? though he did so with a bit of sass that she would not have, not here, not now. There was a time, long ago when she though she was so smart and tough - took on Danny insult for insult during their trial, but now she knew her place and stuck rightly to it.
Her confidence was a bit bitten, so to speak, but it had improved her treatment toward others at the very least.
"Lonely? Always," she admitted plainly though she tried to pass it off as a joke. Her smile was light but her eyes were too honest to hide the truth. "Pleasure to uh, meet you both then, My name is Clairee." Should she offer her hand? She did, posting it out for a shake, though she wavered between the two, not sure who to offer it to first.
Last Edit: May 23, 2017 13:45:04 GMT by Clairee Donya
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on May 24, 2017 0:51:17 GMT
Lonely? Well... Thrakazog had to admit there might be some truth in that. Even though he was a member of the Brotherhood, and there were more than a few pirates, rogues, and ne'er-do-wells all over Lodan, he never quite fit in for any length of time. Sure, the pirates liked having him around when something heavy needed lifting, or an engine needed repairs, but more often than not, he was made fun of. The jokes, as they say, were usually 'on him'.
But before he could retort, the odd man he lost sight of re-appeared, handing him a bundle of... "Oh, dat's my lunch," he thought, and muttered an embarrassed, "Tank youz."
But the man had trouble understanding him, as most did, and so the guy turned his attention to the young lady. Thrak did too, even though he didn't quite understand what was meant by 'distraction'. He knew the word, and what it meant, but the context wasn't clear.
The woman smiled a little, and agreed she was 'always' lonely, but the joke was lost on him. He took it literally enough, and cocked his head in confusion. Was she saying she was always lonely because something bad happened to her? Or was she always lonely because she did bad things to other people? She didn't LOOK like a person who would do bad things. But then again, he wasn't the best judge of character. But when she took a small step forward and introduced herself as, 'Clairee', Thrak repeated it in his head. He liked her already. THAT name, he could pronounce with no trouble at all! She even held out a delicate-looking hand (compared to his own) in greeting.
Remembering his manners, he hastened to his feet, and extended his own meaty palm It looked like it could engulf both her hands, nevermind the one, but he was gentle about it, and merely used his thumb and forefinger to lightly clasp her hand and shake it. He wasn't rough, and barely moved his own arm. Someone might think he was being overly cautious, afraid to break something, but while he appeared oafish, he tried very hard not to be.
He greeted in return, "Ug dere youz, Miss Clair-ee. Dem iz call me Thrakazog." He looked very proud that he said his whole nickname without a glitch, but his look turned concerned when he realized that in order to take her hand, he'd dropped his rucksack once more. Embarrassed again, he looked first to Clairee, then to the man who introduced them, and then back at the ground. Finally, he let go and retrieved his things, grateful that bread and water didn't really 'break' when dropped... repeatedly.
He struggled to think of something clever or witty to say, but only managed to ask the man, "And umm... who are youz?"
Post by Thomas "Tomcat" Thompson on Jun 13, 2017 19:30:31 GMT
"Clairee, eh?" Tom said, giving the woman a short nod before turning to the larger man as the two shook hands. He didn't extend his own. Wasn't much point in doing that. Furrowing his brow, he snickered, playing off his genuine confusion at whatever the man was saying. Not one word made a lick of sense. "What? 'Thrakazog'? That your name?" He shook his head. Didn't matter. "Eh, as for me, the name's Tomcat." Nobody had asked - unless the 'Thrakazog' man had asked, in which case he couldn't understand - but he decided to give them his name anyway.
Post by Clairee Donya on Jun 16, 2017 21:48:30 GMT
Thraka... thrak.... shoot. Tomcat and Thrak-something were her two new companions.
She hooded her gaze as she glanced from one to the other. It could be worse. She could be left all alone the whole day, like a ghost on the street. Completely unnoticed, unseen...
This, she decided, was an improvement. As such she smiled.
"Lovely to make your acquaintances." She chirped. "Are either of you from around here?" It sounded like a bad pick up line, but the only other thing she could think to ask was 'are you busy?' and that meant they would have the option to say 'yes' and she'd be on her own again. She didn't much care for that outcome, so she went with the former.
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on Jun 18, 2017 14:50:50 GMT
"What? 'Thrakazog'? That your name?" the fellow asked Thrak, and Thrak nodded in reply.
Then the man introduced himself as Tomcat, which gave Thrak pause. Was he trying to make a metaphor, that he 'was a tomcat', as opposed to a simile, 'he was like a tomcat'? Or was his name actually Tomcat? That idea didn't bother Thrakazog overmuch, as his own 'name' was really more of a nickname anyway. His real name was Thadeus, but only his mother ever called him that.
He finally answered 'Tomcat', "Ug dere, Mister Tomcat. It's guud to meet youz."
By that point, the woman, Clairee, spoke up again, asking if they were from 'around here'. Apparently, the whole kerfuffle over whether Thrak and Clairee were having a lover's quarrel or were socially inept had passed uneventfully, for which Thrakazog was grateful. So he focused on the present question, and answered abruptly, "Ummm..."
He looked around, not quite sure where 'around here' was, but he finally decided that he wasn't from there. He added, "Nub... well, yub... well... sorta... me live down by da docks."
Okay... maybe Tomcat was right... Thrakazog was socially inept.
Right about that time, a troupe of musicians wandered past, drawing Thrakazog's attention with the sound of their voices. They sang in unison, but in harmony, and it was rather beautiful. The song was a pretty one, but also sad because it told of walking down a road alone. It reminded him that at the moment, he wasn't altogether happy, and he was a bit of a loner. But then, so was this Clairee person, as she'd stated. Maybe Tomcat was too? But... if they were all alone, together, then were they really alone?
The song continued on as the troupe passed them, and Thrak brought his attention back to the conversation at hand. He tried to think of something clever to say, but only managed, "Whut about youz? Youz from 'round here?"
Tomcat was strangely silent, which made her wonder if the question was a little too personal. Then again, Thrak had no trouble answering. She channeled her follow up smile at him and nodded when he asked her in turn. "Sure am. I'm one of the Donya clan that does nearly all the livestock farming along on the edge of town. Most people don't know me really, but many Lodanites know my pa, or at least... the middle-class seem to." She summed up rather awkwardly.
(Sorry for skipping you Tom, but I didn't want to let it die)
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on Jul 19, 2017 16:48:12 GMT
"Ooo!" Thrakazog responded, both audibly and visibly impressed.
Farming was an important job, and if the Donya clan did almost all of the livestock management, then they were likely one of the wealthier families in all of Lodan. And if that was true, then the woman speaking to him was of considerably higher rank in society. It made Thrakazog feel a little self-conscious, realizing someone so important was talking to him. Aside from Captain Caitlin, and maybe her top people, he didn't know anyone like Clairee.
He tried again (and failed again) to wipe at his pants, as if that would somehow make him look more presentable to a higher-class citizen. He did have a pair of nicer pants, and a nicer outfit to go with it - a gift from a strange, but generous doctor woman from the last winter holiday - but he hadn't worn them today. He hadn't expected to meet anyone special, never mind TWO special people. His lip pursed in consternation. It seemed like he was never dressed correctly for the situation he was in.
But he wasn't completely embarrassed. He managed to reply, "Oh, yub... yub! Dat sounds like an import-... importaa-... dat's a job what needs doin'. People need to eat!"
Then he added his own situation, "Me work wit da engines on da ships, yub - da steam ones what gets dem around da harbors til dey can use da sails on da open water. Me guess me prolly worked on one of da engines wut ships da livestock out of Lodan, maybe? Yub."
He scratched at his head a moment, or more accurately, the bandana he wore upon it to cover and protect his head from the sun. He was trying to think of a question he could ask the woman in return - something that wouldn't make him sound stupid. Maybe he might even come up with something that would make her want to stick around and talk more about livestock, or farming, or whatever it was she did.
Instead, he managed to bungle it, as usual. "So ummm... youz get to ride da cows?"
"I guess I never thought of it that way," She responded with mixed emotions about the "importance" of her families duties. Sure they were a necessity, but people tended not the see it that way and often treated them like the muck they shoveled out of the stalls. Farmers weren't usually considered a very noble profession. In fact, having a profession at all wasn't very noble. That meant she and her family were common working class rabble. "I only meant that they're a lot of us Donya's so its not unusual for soemone to have met at least one of us."
He brought up his own profession, which sounded way more exciting and particular than hers. Who wanted to feed cows when you could build machines?? Then he asked her something that tripped up her train of thought.
"I, what? No, haha, no... we break in horses, and they usually are sold to drive carriages but not the cows." She had to reign in her giggles. When she did, she remembered her early awe and asked a question of her own.
"Do you ride the ships? After you fix them, have you been out on the open ocean and gone to distant places?" She was notably star struck.
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