- Invitation Status
- Preferred Character Gender
- Female
- Genres
- Fantasy, Romance, Magical
Location ~ Grand Masai Market Place
Feather ~ Tirian
By the time he looked down and caught sight of her, Feather's glance had dropped to linger somewhere off to the side of his chin. Eyeing him directly engaged the two in conversation; something she wasn't particularly fond of doing, especially after catching sight of the mark upon his cheek. Sure, it was hypocritical. Feather herself had been dressed beautifully by the fashion shop, to the point where she hardly looked human anymore. With skin an unnatural pale, and eyes that looked like they belonged to a mechanical clockwork doll; ears of an elf, and gear that could be called cyberpunk, it was pretty obvious that the 11 year old girl came from wealth. Yet she detested the fact... was put-off by people who appeared to be rich, like her cold, robotic parents. Like her, even... people like her were the pawns of political machines, funding greed and boasting their steam. Those people weren't nice. Yet for some reason the man she bumped into was showing kindness... why? She was clearly at fault. She was younger, and thus shorter to a degree he hadn't even noticed her while looking straight ahead. Had she payed attention the accident would have been avoided completely. What was the sense in him apologizing for it? But it was better not to comment on it. Short talk was better for a brash, cold girl like her. It made for less annoyance, irritation, offense. Hurt, even. And Feather was perfectly content leaving their conversation at that and walking away.
Yet the snowy haired boy pulled her back into conversation with the most obvious statement one could ever make. "Tirian. I can see that already." Without even glancing up, Feather's arm lifted to point out the digital lettering above his head; clearly she was able to see, so his need to make an introduction was really out of place. Then again... how else would one start a conversation with a stranger? Perhaps she found it so weird because even in real life Feather hardly ever spoke to other people, and when she was forced to attend events to make her parents look good, the girl kept her lips tight, not bothering to share the name most of those fools knew already. Realizing this after making the blunt statement flustered her greatly, yet all she could do was meet his face with what vaguely looked to be an apologetic grimace. "Feather is my name." She really didn't need to say it, especially after pointing out the pointlessness of his own proclamation. But those were the only words she could think of to remedy her own unkindness without -actually- apologizing. Even they weren't enough to soften things, it seemed; for he was already glancing away, his occupations elsewhere, far away from the blunt little elf girl. She could see his desire to leave more clearly than her desire to converse with him, and that made things pretty easy, even when he extended the offer of checking things out together. Halfhearted was he to ask her such a thing, as if there were any real desire for her company. Maybe he even pitied her for running through the game alone and a handicap that most assumed would kill her quickly.
But as it were, Feather had things of her own to do, and none of those plans included checking out a monster those idiots of the "Front Line" raced toward so eagerly, following a coy wolf like little slaughter-bound lambs. It was easy for her to decline his offer and send the man, Tirian, on his way... sort of easy, anyway. "No thanks. I need to buy some herbs and go back to training." Leaving it at that the elfin girl turned away, her black combat boots poised to spring far away from the man and his further intentions. But something - perhaps the guilt of her cold attitude, perhaps the mild yearning to converse with a kind stranger - pulled her gaze back to his face briefly. "Thanks, though. Maybe we'll meet again. Before we die... or something." Subtle frustration lined her face when those last few awkward words came out, but there was no helping it now. The more she talked the worse it would get. So rather than bothering anymore she stepped away and wandered toward the far line of NPC shops, head reeling from her own stupidity and all the while trying to recall the three items she'd seen in the guide before making such a horrible display. "What was it? A small damage potion, or something... Basil, ginger, and..." Too quickly she found herself standing before a vendor, muttering pathetically under her breath.
The NPC was a stubby man, with a large belly and farmers clothing. And despite how lifeless he actually was the shopkeeper seemed chipper, grinning around a piece of straw protruding from his plump lips. "Good day, young lady! Interested in purchasin' some crops from this old geezer? This here ashwagandha is great stuff, really hits the spot when your tummy's a little rumbly!" Apparently he found his own words to be humorous, as he dissolved into chortles and squeaks of laughter. For an NPC he reminded her of a pig - big, jiggly and obnoxious. Then again she was probably just offended because even the stupid NPC's treated her like the child she was pretending not to be. Oh well... at least he jumpstarted her memory of the final herb from her short list. Fishing 30 GP from her digital pouch, Feather offered her money over with a blank stare and brief order. "Basil, ashwagandha, and ginger." The NPC seemed unfazed by her lifeless demenor, and insisted on babbling some more about potion making and unrelated things as he rounded up her order. Feather, on the other hand, feigned distraction with the cyber-ish webbing that wove through her gloves, until the materials were handed over. She left without a goodbye, seeking out an empty potion-making stall near the less inhabited area of the marketplace to attempt her first shot at crafting a small damage healing mixture.
Attempts at Potion Making-
Heal Small Damage (1) ~ Success (54)
Feather has obtained 1 Heal Small Damage potion.
Feather ~ Tirian
By the time he looked down and caught sight of her, Feather's glance had dropped to linger somewhere off to the side of his chin. Eyeing him directly engaged the two in conversation; something she wasn't particularly fond of doing, especially after catching sight of the mark upon his cheek. Sure, it was hypocritical. Feather herself had been dressed beautifully by the fashion shop, to the point where she hardly looked human anymore. With skin an unnatural pale, and eyes that looked like they belonged to a mechanical clockwork doll; ears of an elf, and gear that could be called cyberpunk, it was pretty obvious that the 11 year old girl came from wealth. Yet she detested the fact... was put-off by people who appeared to be rich, like her cold, robotic parents. Like her, even... people like her were the pawns of political machines, funding greed and boasting their steam. Those people weren't nice. Yet for some reason the man she bumped into was showing kindness... why? She was clearly at fault. She was younger, and thus shorter to a degree he hadn't even noticed her while looking straight ahead. Had she payed attention the accident would have been avoided completely. What was the sense in him apologizing for it? But it was better not to comment on it. Short talk was better for a brash, cold girl like her. It made for less annoyance, irritation, offense. Hurt, even. And Feather was perfectly content leaving their conversation at that and walking away.
Yet the snowy haired boy pulled her back into conversation with the most obvious statement one could ever make. "Tirian. I can see that already." Without even glancing up, Feather's arm lifted to point out the digital lettering above his head; clearly she was able to see, so his need to make an introduction was really out of place. Then again... how else would one start a conversation with a stranger? Perhaps she found it so weird because even in real life Feather hardly ever spoke to other people, and when she was forced to attend events to make her parents look good, the girl kept her lips tight, not bothering to share the name most of those fools knew already. Realizing this after making the blunt statement flustered her greatly, yet all she could do was meet his face with what vaguely looked to be an apologetic grimace. "Feather is my name." She really didn't need to say it, especially after pointing out the pointlessness of his own proclamation. But those were the only words she could think of to remedy her own unkindness without -actually- apologizing. Even they weren't enough to soften things, it seemed; for he was already glancing away, his occupations elsewhere, far away from the blunt little elf girl. She could see his desire to leave more clearly than her desire to converse with him, and that made things pretty easy, even when he extended the offer of checking things out together. Halfhearted was he to ask her such a thing, as if there were any real desire for her company. Maybe he even pitied her for running through the game alone and a handicap that most assumed would kill her quickly.
But as it were, Feather had things of her own to do, and none of those plans included checking out a monster those idiots of the "Front Line" raced toward so eagerly, following a coy wolf like little slaughter-bound lambs. It was easy for her to decline his offer and send the man, Tirian, on his way... sort of easy, anyway. "No thanks. I need to buy some herbs and go back to training." Leaving it at that the elfin girl turned away, her black combat boots poised to spring far away from the man and his further intentions. But something - perhaps the guilt of her cold attitude, perhaps the mild yearning to converse with a kind stranger - pulled her gaze back to his face briefly. "Thanks, though. Maybe we'll meet again. Before we die... or something." Subtle frustration lined her face when those last few awkward words came out, but there was no helping it now. The more she talked the worse it would get. So rather than bothering anymore she stepped away and wandered toward the far line of NPC shops, head reeling from her own stupidity and all the while trying to recall the three items she'd seen in the guide before making such a horrible display. "What was it? A small damage potion, or something... Basil, ginger, and..." Too quickly she found herself standing before a vendor, muttering pathetically under her breath.
The NPC was a stubby man, with a large belly and farmers clothing. And despite how lifeless he actually was the shopkeeper seemed chipper, grinning around a piece of straw protruding from his plump lips. "Good day, young lady! Interested in purchasin' some crops from this old geezer? This here ashwagandha is great stuff, really hits the spot when your tummy's a little rumbly!" Apparently he found his own words to be humorous, as he dissolved into chortles and squeaks of laughter. For an NPC he reminded her of a pig - big, jiggly and obnoxious. Then again she was probably just offended because even the stupid NPC's treated her like the child she was pretending not to be. Oh well... at least he jumpstarted her memory of the final herb from her short list. Fishing 30 GP from her digital pouch, Feather offered her money over with a blank stare and brief order. "Basil, ashwagandha, and ginger." The NPC seemed unfazed by her lifeless demenor, and insisted on babbling some more about potion making and unrelated things as he rounded up her order. Feather, on the other hand, feigned distraction with the cyber-ish webbing that wove through her gloves, until the materials were handed over. She left without a goodbye, seeking out an empty potion-making stall near the less inhabited area of the marketplace to attempt her first shot at crafting a small damage healing mixture.
Attempts at Potion Making-
Heal Small Damage (1) ~ Success (54)
Feather has obtained 1 Heal Small Damage potion.