RP:A Shaky Introduction
Location: Kelay Way
Characters: Loravelle, and Isok
Synopsis: Isok and Loravelle have a short meet and greet for the first time amidst the chaos his undead presence brings…
Kelay Way
Kelay: the most famous part of the land. Something is happening. But you don't know what and by the looks of all the villagers around, and their confused expressions, neither do they. For the moment though it seems relatively calm, whether it is the calm before the storm though is yet to be seen. Perhaps more can be found out in the tavern to the north? Perhaps shelter in the great cities to the east and west could be found as well? You ponder which direction you should take and wonder if it will lead you onto your destiny be that glory, or death.
Amidst the unsettled villagers, among their shocked gasps of displeasure, the shambled form of a once charming avian can be seen, harboring a slow, drawn out cadence to his grim march. The shuffling of his leather bound feet upon the cold cobbled road produces a rhythmic jingle of metal - it's source is a long, heavy chain that's looped and dangling from his waist. At the epicenter of this impromptu gathering, Isok finally comes to a full stop, lifting a scowl to those around, which is so eloquently etched into his half rotten features. It would seem that the commotion here is produced by his presence alone, and travelling further north into the tavern to hear about the latest gossip, is unneeded. The undead avian stands there for moments, absorbing their stares as if he were an unmovable object; a statue etched and left to be torn down by the masses. It is only after an awkward few moments of silence, that he begins to move once more, pushing a nosey, space invading citizen aside with the brush of his heavily armored arm.
Loravelle – Partial freedom is a strange limbo to find oneself in. On one hand, this maidservant tends to other people's every whim during the day, while on the other, she has the evenings to herself, to spread some newfound wings and explore the world beyond Gualon's gardens and swamps. As a result, Kelay is utterly fascinating in daylight, despite it being so well-known. With night having fallen however, she is scurrying along the road, keeping well within the light of any lanterns outside of buildings she passes by, brightly-colored paper kite and its spool of line in her hands to head back home before it's too late. Loravelle is dressed plainly, modestly; Layers of earth-toned qizhuang dress that cover her skin from chin to ankle, dull black hair arranged in liangbatou style, adorned with a single silk peony colored white and pink. At the sound of commotion just outside of the tavern, the girl's footsteps come to a halt and she nearly leaps out of her skin at the sight of the creature townsfolk are gawking at. Predictably, she's gawking at Isok too, pale grey eyes full of fear. This isn't the first undead she has seen since venturing out from home, but he is the most ghastly. And he looks to be heading in her general direction! The wooden spool of kite line in her hands clatters to the cobblestones and rolls a few feet away from her. In a panic, she tries pulling spool back to her so she can turn tail and flee, but in her foolishness she realizes belatedly that pulling thread from a spool is only going to unravel more of the line, not -pull- the spool back to her. Sputtering, with a handful of the thread in her trembling hand, she stumbles forward to grab the spool itself off of the ground by a handle, gripping it tight like she might be able to use it to defend herself if needed.
Isok was not ready to stop and confront those who had gathered to gawk at his horrific form. Nor had he expected the wandering priest to stumble and stutter over his godly worship preaching. No matter where Isok travelled too, their reactions were always the same - their reasonings for his existence always fell to the negative side. That Isok is nothing more than some cursed, brain eating husk of a man hell-bent on devouring the living. He couldn't blame them really. But much to his own chagrin, Isok had meandered towards a rather frightened girl who had dropped a spool of kite string and frantically struggled to reclaim the item. The wraith of a man abruptly closes the distance between them while she moves to pluck the spool up with a death grip. When she suddenly realizes the lack of space between them, and that his frigid, ice-blue eyes were upon her, she might indeed panic - more so if she discovers his raised hand that moved to steady her stumble. Regardless of any complaints, Isok's hollow, gravelly voice calls out. "Careful there, wouldn't want to stumble and break your neck so foolishly." Is he suddenly grinning at her?
Loravelle drops the spool of kite line again the instant her eyes accidentally meet the icey-blue eyes of Isok, and the kite drifts to the ground to accompany it at the sensation of his touch to steady her. The gesture is a kind one, surely, but touch from anybody, living or undead, is not only terrifying, it simply isn't orderly. She would scream out from fear, but instead she involuntarily flinches, recoiling from him. Curse her skittishness and clumsiness. She wants to stoop down to pick up her kite again, but moves slowly to do so, hands raised up a bit with palms facing outward to show that she wasn't dangerous. This isn't a necessary gesture at all. The diminutive woman is practically harmless to someone as fearsome as this avian. His grin..was it a grin? Lora can't tell, to her it looks frightening like most everything else about his appearance, well...It makes her tremble again. She can't not acknowledge that he spoke to her, so she stammers a reply, in a quieter, softer voice than his. “T-thank you.”
Isok watches the diminutive lady slowly stoop to pick up her kite spool for the second time, gazing down upon her from on high. As far as his race goes, Isok is impossibly tall for most humans, standing over six and a half feet. To say that his presence is fearsome, might be an understatement. However, there is no monster to be found buried beneath his skin. No freakish ghoul waiting to launch a surprise attack on Loravelle and eat her alive. For moments, he drinks in her sight, performing calculations within his minds eye. She was nervous for sure. Despite this, Isok smiles once more, putting forth a genuine effort to be pleasant at this meeting of chance. Though his ghoulish form destroys such things - making him look more like a devil. A gauntleted hand raises then, in an offer to shake. "You're welcome." Isok's easy tone shifts abruptly, to hurriedly introduce himself before this panicked sheep runs from him. "Before you run and flee, I'm Isok. Don't mind the appearance, I don't have much of a choice." Was being an undead a curse upon mortal kind or was it a personal world of torture, designed to destroy any self confidence within? "I was reborn this way."
Loravelle almost drops her kite a third time with how much she's shaking. Were all avians this tall, alive or undead? He's a just about a foot and a half taller than she is. Holding kite and spool pressed to her chest with one arm, she considers her options. Running was the best one, but he very likely could catch up. He had wings. Surely he could scoop up someone a small and light as her and whisk her away somewhere secluded to devour her. Did undead eat people? Mister Crane had never threatened to bite her, but she did give him money... Perhaps that is why he hadn't tried to, but this Isok...A frown appears on her face first, due to being rude and frightened, mixed with pity for being reborn. The dead should stay dead, as far as Lora was concerned. “Lora,” is her hushed reply, accepting his gauntleted hand in her much smaller one. His looked like it could swallow hers. “It is...nice,” the word stammered out with noticeable uncertainty, but she tries to sound polite. “...to meet you, Mister Isok.”
Isok raised a brow at her trembling voice and clear body language while suppressing the urge to sigh. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Lady Lora." Isok nearly called her a little mouse due to her shaking and almost squeaky nature, but stifled the nickname in favor of her rather rigid introduction. As for his height, when travelling across the lands, most would say that Isok is actually only average in size. There were plenty of avians, both taller and shorter, undead or otherwise. The avian's giant paw moves away from Lora which precludes his own distancing. "I'll be moving along now." Isok gave a simple nod of his head. The patchy scalp of dark colored locks Isok calls his hair, fall over his shoulders with this simple gesture. "I tend to draw a crowd." A gloved finger points to the masses which have yet to clear away. Perhaps many thought that she would be attacked? Regardless, Isok begins to move away from the scene. The crowd sighs, letting go of the individual breath of air each carried. "Be safe Lora. Perhaps, we will meet again?" The avian however, is soon gone, lifting his frightening presence from Kelay.
Loravelle – “Lady Lora? N-no, I-” She wants to correct him as she is far below a title like Lady, but stops midway. It isn't her place to tell others whether they are right or wrong. Grateful that her hand is let go of, to her surprise unscathed as she turns her wrist to examine it, Lora misses some of Mister Isok's words, but if she hops up on her tip toes, which she does, the onlookers nearby look just as afraid as she does. ...Though some of that fear has diminished. Not by much. He didn't try to hurt her. It would be rude to say that they would not meet again, so her head automatically bobs with a nod. Once he is gone from view, her trembling form sags with an exhaled breath she held in. This doesn't stop her from shaking like a leaf, but it's calming enough to pull herself together just enough to flee back home. To Gualon. Kelay is far too spooky at night.