Expand Wiki Navigation

Difference between revisions of "RP:Mr.Fennigan"

From HollowWiki
Jump to: navigation, search
m
 
Line 2: Line 2:
 
{{PC|Penelope}}
 
{{PC|Penelope}}
 
{{Guild|Healer's}}
 
{{Guild|Healer's}}
 +
[[Category:RP Logs]]
  
 
Sabrina was sitting at a desk in the far corner, cycling through a stack of invoices with a look of hard concentration spread across her features. The desk looks to be a late addition to the house as it is the only wood item that does not fit the quality or age of old woodland elf crftsmenship. No, this piece looks to have been acquired in Rynvale and shipped here but the quality was no where near lacking. She was in full dress; some breathable fabric that covered her from the high-collar neck to the rim of heeled boots. Her arms as well, covered, with the exception of her hands while idle work required dexterity that gloves could not permit. She was smaller than people said, but her stern features and firm grip on propriety never went without notice. Even still, sitting in that pile of work wearing a full-scale version of bitch-face she was still pretty. Just not typically approachable.   
 
Sabrina was sitting at a desk in the far corner, cycling through a stack of invoices with a look of hard concentration spread across her features. The desk looks to be a late addition to the house as it is the only wood item that does not fit the quality or age of old woodland elf crftsmenship. No, this piece looks to have been acquired in Rynvale and shipped here but the quality was no where near lacking. She was in full dress; some breathable fabric that covered her from the high-collar neck to the rim of heeled boots. Her arms as well, covered, with the exception of her hands while idle work required dexterity that gloves could not permit. She was smaller than people said, but her stern features and firm grip on propriety never went without notice. Even still, sitting in that pile of work wearing a full-scale version of bitch-face she was still pretty. Just not typically approachable.   

Latest revision as of 00:11, 27 March 2020

This is a Healer's Guild RP.

Sabrina was sitting at a desk in the far corner, cycling through a stack of invoices with a look of hard concentration spread across her features. The desk looks to be a late addition to the house as it is the only wood item that does not fit the quality or age of old woodland elf crftsmenship. No, this piece looks to have been acquired in Rynvale and shipped here but the quality was no where near lacking. She was in full dress; some breathable fabric that covered her from the high-collar neck to the rim of heeled boots. Her arms as well, covered, with the exception of her hands while idle work required dexterity that gloves could not permit. She was smaller than people said, but her stern features and firm grip on propriety never went without notice. Even still, sitting in that pile of work wearing a full-scale version of bitch-face she was still pretty. Just not typically approachable.

Penelope had saw word of the Healer’s Guild opening their arms for new healers. In no desire to write and wanting to get straight to meet the leader herself, she travels forth to Larket again. The House of Ara, she had passed by several times on the outside of the building. Too hesitant to approach the building with the insecurity of being rejected immediately, however, this was a new beginning. The girl walks through the doors. She is overly petite. Her torso covered with denim coat with a cotton shirt underneath, and her legs covered with black jeans and black boots. Her hair is braided, showing the face that is thinning from the over exercise and lack of coin to her name. Mossy doe eyes search the room around her until they land on Sabrina. The woman looks intimidating from afar - the beautiful structure of her face with piercing eyes. Sabrina looked important as she sat at the desk. The new Penelope was not usually hesitant until at this very moment. She slowly shuffles forward. “Hello,” she has a small accent and a soft voice. She appears lost. She did not know who else to approach.


Sabrina looks up from her papers, eyes taking focus on the frail female that entered upon the chime above the door once it was opened. She was small, this did not bother the elfess one bit since she was living proof that size does not make or break a person’s ability, whatever it may be. But this one looked lost. She stills her quill and adds her current allotment of parchment sheets to the larger of two pile indicating those had been finished and were ready to file. A student comes from the kitchen, places a hot cup of tea at Sabrina’s desk and carries off the completed stack to finalize the task of those transactions. He looks at Penelope but does not address her and moves on. “Can I help you?” The Elfess’ voice is near melodic, despite the destruction of common tongue that made her slightly difficult to understand to those not used to listening to her. She picks up her tea, drinks, and sets it aside. With a greeting less than pleasing she sits back in her chair and waits for the girl to provide meaning for her presence.

Penelope avoids the male who comes in with tea. He was staring at her, but her gaze was clearly focused on the woman and her paperwork. ‘Can I help you?’ The human’s heart rate beats quicker, especially at the displeasing response. The words come out like jumbled vomit. “My name is Penelope Halifax. I’m in search of the one in charge of placing that note in Kelay. The one about the Healer’s Guild…” She trails, eyes scan over the woman before her. Once she speaks, she automatically forgets what just came out of her mouth out of nervousness. She stuffs her hands inside her coat to keep them occupied, and she keeps her expression stoic. Do not be intimidated, do not be intimidated.

Sabrina raises a thin dark brow. Oh this was just getting better and better. She rises from her seat and approaches the other woman. At full height even in those boots she barely cleared five foot even but she was not so fidgety as Penelope, and it had been hundreds of years since she had been. She takes that round-about kind of walk as if weighing the value of livestock. “Hm.” She wasn’t displeased, just good at recognizing where a lot of work would need to be invested. “Stand up straight.” She expected her members to hold a certain demand of respect, even if they were talking to her. The man comes back with a second mug of tea, it was served to the human girl with upmost respect; his head bowed and avoiding eye contact and the tray that held it out to her as still as if it were on a solid surface. He was an average looking type, standing just under six foot with shoulder length sandy brown hair that was kept away from his face in standard elvish style. A half-breed no doubt, his height giving away his human points while the sharp features and pointed ear tattling the rest. He was proper, but Sabrina didn’t find him that way. As Sabrina returns to her desk he whispers to Penelope. “Hands out of your pockets.” The elfess would return with a small purse. “Ms. Halifax, I insist you do something about your attire. We can’t have our healers roaming around looking unkempt.” That was it. There was no inquiry about her skill level, and she honestly doubted the girl would be able to evaluate herself. But first things first, she needed to be fed, clothed, and taught how to look the part. The purse is tossed without warning, an initial test on the ability to act under pressure.

Penelope shifts her eyes wherever the woman steps, and her chin lifts up, her posture adjusts automatically as the elf tells her to. Shoulders are pulled back properly, hands still linger in her pockets until the male comes back in with the tea. Her hands are removed from her pockets to receive the mug that was offered out. ‘Hands out of your pockets’ and the girl is stunned. This was not fun and games, not that she expected this to be. As Sabrina makes her way back to the desk, the ex-baker shifts her attention her way again. Penelope parts her pale lips, but no noise comes out. Instead, she takes a sip out of the steaming cup. Her throat felt sticky out of nervousness, her shoulders were tense again as the purse is tossed in her direction and her left hand extends instinctively as she latches onto the material. “… You said ‘our’ healers…” This was obviously a sign, but she needed confirmation. This girl still appeared a lost mess.


Sabrina gave a half smile. It was almost pleasant. “Did you expect a test?” She was not one to deny any interested party, healing was a calling and it was out of her control. Making the trek to merely express an interest in the guild was enough of a start for the Elfess. A chance. It was all people needed. “Mr. Fennigan will direct you to the proper studies. For the time being I will assign him to you so you can get your bearings. I do not ask much of my healers, just that you come when you are summoned and you progress.” The male was practically beaming when he returns again with a stack of several entry-level books. “Field Medicine of which you will take up with Xzavior, Basic Herbology of Mainland Hollow of which you can explore with Artia, Sutures, Wraps, and Splints can be explained through Emilia. All optional, of course. But if you require clarification those are your instructors.” She takes up her mug and leans against her desk. Fennigan arches a brow to her. “Your hands-on experience will go through me until I feel you are ready to go off on your own. And Mr. Fennigan will be invested in your etiquette as it seems you have none.” Her tone was polite enough, but clearly she had no filter for these things.

Penelope blinks her tired eyes at Sabrina. the relief was lifting. a sheepish expression forming over the girl’s face, a small smile in return. The girl still keeps herself straight in the woman’s presence, but Penelope’s visage is now relieving the exhaustion that she has been taking since she had returned to the land. “Mr. Fennigan,” the man comes in on cue, and her lips curve in a smile of gratitude. the woman nods each time Sabrina mentions a name. ‘Artia’. wait, Artia? was this the Artia she knew two years prior? she did not let this distract her so much. “of course,” and she then glances down at her appearance. She was rather rugged, she knew this, but not having anywhere to go and only one couch and many inns to stay in, she could not afford much. not even to keep her own health stable. Eyes flick up and linger on Mr. Fennigan and she nods in obedience, she was determined to catch on quickly.


Sabrina had given Penelope the same purse as any other who came with interest to learn. What she did with it was not of her concern. The male, somewhere in his mid-twenties, gave a slight bow. “You may call me Finn.” This brought a stern look from Sabrina’s face, and no matter how many times he had asked her to do the same, it was Mr. Fennigan as always. He was friendly, despite his leader’s lack of spirit, and rarely was seen with a frown or bad word to say about anyone. He had a tendency to focus his studies on cleanliness and propriety, often lending a hand with tips on bedside manner and proper stock for different scenarios. Being a bit squeamish he never got into the hands-on stuff but he was often caught reading up on the surgeries he could only dream of delving into. If only he could stomach what he described as a ‘ghastly scene.’ Sabrina breaks their little moment. “He can show you the maps for routes, as well as locate the healers of particular trades. Don’t listen to Yerrel though, he tends to speak in riddles that don’t amount to much for the topic at hand.” Outstanding healer, but Yerrel was too old to hold a coherent conversation with, especially if one was asking for advice. He had a tendency to answer a question with a question until the victim came to their own sound conclusion. It was his way of teaching, and some races did not have the years to contribute to idle chatter.

Penelope would give off a nod again in politeness. “Finn,” she then hesitates as she notices Sabrina’s disapproving gaze. Well, he was her tutor, so she would call him whatever he pleased, but if Sabrina was around, she knew otherwise. She then turns her attention back onto the elfess. “Yerrel, right,” she was not following anything that she was saying at the moment, and she waits until she is finished to ask any further questions. “Routes? Do you mean other towns with other healers?” She then pauses. “Anything else I need to be aware of that is of importance…? Any advice…?”

Sabrina nods. Other towns with other healers. Finn would make sure she knew them through maps, but Sabrina would likely introduce her in real time visits. “Finn will set up our next meeting when he checks my schedule and compares to yours. I expect you to be well fed, well dressed, and well mannered.” She turns from them both and reclaims her seat at the desk, picking up right where she left off. Looking up from the mess she gives an irritated smile. “You are dismissed.” In an instant the Halfling runs his hand along Penelope’s elbow and hints toward the door. “We have a lot of work to do, Ms. Halifax.” More like shopping, eating, and ragging on the propriety of the pure-bloods. Finn was more fun than the guild master, but he was also not under as much pressure to supply resources to all the realms and organize battle clean up.


Penelope looks as if she might break for a moment. Well fed, well dressed. Something she had not had in a long time. Not since the passing of her twin. The frail girl dips her head in understanding toward the elfess. “Yes’m, I promise you I will be. Thank you for this opportunity,” she lingers for too long before the woman before her dismisses her. As Finn brushes against her elbow, the girl jolts. She would eventually learn to become less hesitant at such small gestures. “Yes, Mr. Fennigan,” and with this she parts towards the door with her new light-hearted tutor. Someone she actually needed in her life – someone fun and easy going. Something she never had.