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Jordan stood outside Guadosalam on the Moonflow side. The air was slightly warm not that he minded, he preferred the warmth. It was good for the plants too. The Ancient was leaned against a tree, looking at the Moonflow. He stood looking towards the water, watching the Shoopuf leave.
He watched for a couple of minutes as the Shoopuf slowly shuffled through the Moonflow. Then turned back towards the Guado's city.
As Jordan walked into the Guado's Home he began to feel ill, he often reacted badly to the presence of the Farplane. Putting Jordan around the death associated the Farplane was like setting off a stink bomb on a dogs nose.
Stumbling into the city Jordan had gone quite a green color and flumped onto a bench outside the Guado's Maesters house. Closing his eyes Jordan's breathing shallowed as he tried to regain his composure. he'd be fine soon.
Jordan didn't know why Guadosalam affected him so. he naturally assumed that it was somethjing to do with the Farplane and but that's about it. otherwise he really just shrugged it off
Post by Favael Nocturnus on Oct 22, 2012 16:40:16 GMT
Favael stepped out of the Maester’s abode; he liked living here so much more than he like Bevelle. The guado weren’t nearly as stuffy and high strung as some of the Yevonite priests of the ‘holy city’. The thin saber to match Seymour’s staff that hung from his hip gleamed in the dim light of the entrance area. His expression behind his round frame glasses was calm as he stopped just outside the door, glancing to the two guards that flanked the door. They nodded to him, but Favael gave no response to them - the teen was convinced that the monks that were set to guard Seymour hated him.
He looked around the area, several guado were out and about, taking care of their everyday chores. The one oddity that struck him as off from a normal day was the rather green-looking guy sitting down on the bench. Now Favael wasn’t typically one to care, though he didn’t want anyone throwing up all over Lord Seymour’s doorstep.
He disappeared back inside for a few moments before reemerging with a glass of water. Seymour had been telling him that he needed to be more polite to random people. If he wasn’t, he made the maester look bad and that just wouldn’t do. He held it out to the ill-looking one with a semi-forced smile.
“Here, water might help you feel a bit better.”
If Jordan were looking, where he held the glass seemed to be a bit cloudy due to the extra body heat he was giving off.
Sitting at his desk and somewhat minding his own business, a small stack of paperwork separated into two piles lay on Seymour's desk, where he sat in a tall, ornate, and comfortable chair. He eased his back into the cushions as he flipped a pen back and forth between his fingers. Becoming the leader of the Guado people did actually have disadvantages, and one of those disadvantages happened to be grievous amounts of paperwork; there were some to fill out for finalizing his position, some to view possible laws he'd need to either pass or deny, and everything in between. He sat the tip of the pen down to place his signature on a document, then signed it twice more before lifting it and placing it on the top of ''Pile Two''. Beside his stacks of paperwork, however, lay a very peculiar looking book.
It had no title, and the cover was very ragged. The spine was bent as well, making it, overall, in not so good of shape. In truth, it was actually Seymour's personal journals and records (at least the ones he didn't care about people finding out). A bookmark was placed on a page labeled ''Anima''. He sighed as he took a small break from the paperwork and leaned back, and it was just then that his trusted Guardian, Favael, entered his chambers talking about a man outside. Promptly reminding him he had to show a little kindness to improve public image, he instructed him to bring the man a glass of water; apparently he was feeling a bit under the weather.
His staff rested against the side of his chair gently, and he began wondering what the nature of the stranger's business was. He had appointed officials to deal with petty issues, and usually people didn't come around the Maester's private quarters.
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Jordan really felt ill, drained. He was slowly coming round as the glass of water was thrust at him. completely missing any difference in he he took the glass and downed the contents. "Thank you." he said looking a little more with it. Jordan smiled widely then handed back the glass. "Sorry, it's the Farplane that does it." He apologized nodding. thinking for a second Jordan pulled his coat up to cover his legs, and hide his gun, making it look more like a short sword as the coats material changed the guns shape to be much more vague. Guadosalam was certainly less stuffy than someplace but they still believed in Yevon, so machina was not allowed.
Now he began to feel better the adventurer could get on with what he came here for. Jordan mostly came to Guadodsalam for the food, the Guado ate food like no-one else. The chefs were amazing and didn't cost the earth ether. it was always Jordan's favorite place to dine and the boy would often spend much time here. in a way now he was feeling better it was good to be back. Though it was no Luca it was good to be in Guadosalam.
Post by Favael Nocturnus on Oct 23, 2012 20:49:59 GMT
Favael crossed his arms as he stood there, it was his way of keeping himself guarded while trying to be as open and polite as he could be. The teen found it difficult simply because that’s not who he naturally was, but at the very least he was trying. He listened to the sickly one, though the more and more he talked Favael was getting slightly confused.
The farplane is making him sick? That doesn’t really happen to many people…I’ll have to ask Lord Seymour later.
The lad’s inner dialogue was keeping his thoughts going and giving himself something to distract from having to be nice. He didn’t even say ‘you’re welcome’ afterward, though that was far from the first thing he thought about.
When the ‘guest’ shifted to hide his weapon Favael raised an eyebrow, it looked like a sword though he really wouldn’t be one to judge. The monks carried around machina weapons all the time and no one seemed to pay any mind. That confused him to no end, since Yevon was all about preaching that Sin exists as punishment for using machina years ago. He had mentioned this many times to the priests and monks and every time was met with a rather annoying science. It made him so mad. Though, he also thought that this was the reason they hated him.
“So why are you here?” he asked bluntly. It was his attempt to be nice though… it still needed work.
It wouldn't be long before the paperwork was really beginning to work his nerves. He'd done a majority and surely felt he deserved a break, and to that end, stacked the piles once again into a more neat stack each (completed being much thicker than the uncompleted) and slumped back in his chair. Ordering a nearby guard to go and fetch him a glass of wine, he held the fancy-looking glass in his hand upon return and flipped open the unlabeled book, flipping the pages with one hand as he grasped the glass from the bottom with his fingers with his occupied hand. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a slow sip as he turned through his notes on Anima, the Fayth his mother had become. Lately, the urge and drive to go and see her again, and possibly even request her help, was creeping up on him and bouncing around in his skull. He swallowed the wine as he peered through his notes, flipping a page every so often.
It was about five pages in when he began to wonder what was taking Favael so long. Usually he wasn't much for social interaction, so perhaps something had gone amiss? Quickly finishing the rest of the weak wine, he tucked his notebook into a dresser underneath some clothing then grabbed hold of his staff, ordering the guards to stand down and hold position while he went outside to check. His staff made a soft tapping noise as he walked along with it, his intricate robe dragging through the air just above the floor. After turning through a few hallways and taking a flight of stairs down to the entrance, he stepped through and looked off to the side. The fellow with Favael didn't look very well. In fact, he looked pretty under the weather.
He could tell Favael was trying to be kind, which offered a slight smirk from the Maester before he stepped toward them with a slight and polite bow. He was wondering what had made the man so sick; had he been poisoned or some such? He looked around slowly and when he was sure of no clear motive, he remembered the scent he had gotten so used to; the scent of the Farplane. Those not familiar with it often had trouble adjusting once around it. The energy it gave off was actually rumored to make outsiders feel sick now and then; not threateningly so, but nausea was one of many very common occurrences in outsiders in Guadosalam. He looked to Favael first. ''I'm assured you're giving our guest here the proper welcome.'' Smiling slightly to him, he looked to the guest. ''And how are you feeling? You look a tad...under the weather, if I might say.'' There wasn't much he could do medicine wise; after all, there were things in place to treat the symptoms, yet not the problem itself.
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Jordan was beginning to clear up a bit, he didn't feel so bad now. "Oh, I'm just here for the food, and passing through. I love the food in Guadosalam. there are so many good cooks." Jordan beamed at Favael as he asked what Jordan was doing there. The Wanderer hadn't noticed how awkward Favael was and wouldn't have really cared. he was trying so that was all Jordan would have asked.
It was then Maester Seymour had spoken to him. Ignoring all his illness Jordan jumped to his feet and did the prayer of Yevon. Not really out of religious obligations, more out of respect for a great leader. Not realizing for a moment that his weapon had been revealed. "I'm feeling a lot better now thank you." Jordan started politely. "I'm just a bit over affected by the smell and feel of death from the Farplane. I always am. No offense meant." he managed to catch himself at the end. Hoping not to offend the Maester. It was then Jordan realized his gun was showing. Instantly he tried to hide it but he knew that the Measter could have him punished severely for possessing Machina. Immediately Jordan was worried for his well being, the fact being readily obvious, even at a glance.
Post by Favael Nocturnus on Oct 25, 2012 21:29:02 GMT
Favael jumped slightly when Seymour approached and spoke, he hadn’t expected that. The teen was thinking about the food in Guadosalam since the other teen had mentioned it. He was right, then again Favael ate with Seymour and Seymour was a Maester of Yevon, naturally the food would always be delicious for someone of such high social standing. The sudden motion by Jordan to stand up to do the prayer caught Favael off guard, and he found himself looking to him once more.
His eyes were drawn to the glinting metal of the gun at the older teen’s hip. Almost as if on reflex his hand moved to grip his saber, ready to take action as soon as Seymour gave the word. He knew better than to just act…it had gotten him in trouble many more times than he could ever hope to keep count of anymore. However, this new person had machina, and machina was illegal. What made it worse was that this man was not to Favael’s knowledge a part of Yevon in anyway - he had no excuse for possessing it.
With a slight turn of his body into a more tense and aggressive stance he looked at Seymour, awaiting orders - apprehend him or stand down.
As soon as the Maester walked outside his chamber doors, the mystery guest jumped to his feet and immediately offered the prayer of Yevon. A smile forming at the corners of Seymour's lips, he returned it in kind. His eyes drifted to something poking outside of the man's pocket; it actually looked like a gun, a form of machina that wasn't exactly permitted under the watch of Yevon, except of course for the warrior monks who guarded the temples and Maesters themselves. He took a quick look around; he had no bodyguards with him at this present time, and they were a decent distance away from the two guarding the entrance to his residence; they probably hadn't seen it, and they couldn't say much while toting rifles themselves. A thought flashed through his mind.
''No offense taken, dear guest. The Farplane, to those unfamiliar, can cause many of the same issues you yourself are feeling right now. Guado are more...attuned to it than most. Most visitors we get end up with that same feeling. He noticed the visitor trying to hide his gun, trying to be as sneaky as possible, but Seymour was almost sure he and Favael had both seen the machina and quickly shot a glance to Favael. He was going to have a little fun with the visitor; he wouldn't have him arrested, but he was certainly going to put him on edge. ''You know, all that paperwork can work up quite a hunger. Favael, why don't you accompany the guest and I to go find somewhere to eat?'' There was a certain look in the Maester's eyes that spelled mischief. He looked over Favael's shoulder to a diner that many of the warrior monks attended, whether on-duty on off.
His grand plan was to take the fellow sporting machina there.
He motioned toward himself at the both of them and set off in a slow walk toward that diner; with all of those warrior monks around, it ought to teach the visitor a lesson about how well you should hide machina when visiting Guadosalam, especially with it being the Maester's place of residence.
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As the Human had turned to Jordan aggressively he too almost reached for his weapon. He wasn't going to be pushed around by Yevon as much as the core of it was helpful for the people. But he relaxed as It seemed Seymour had not seen the weapon. He wasn't scared by owning the weapon. But he didn't want trouble.
Then the Maester had suggested that they went to the diner it appeared the warrior monks hung around outside and it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to say inside too. This was a slight annoyance to Jordan, he liked to avoid warrior monks, they were very of the mind they were above the rules. Irksome to Jordan whom was often outcast for having an item the monks swung around like they were trophies. With a slight sigh Jordan realised that simply following the Maester would make life easier than refusing and walked after the two.
Post by Favael Nocturnus on Nov 1, 2012 17:03:51 GMT
Favael looked at Seymour and dropped his guard, at least physically. He would keep an eye on the other teen just in case he tried anything. He knew better than to think that Seymour had not noticed the machina weapon, however; he also knew that Seymour wasn’t particularly fond of loud outbursts of anything within the city that he called home. Favael straightened himself out, adjusting his glasses so that they sat square on his nose and took a calming breath. Visibly nothing happened, but internally his temperature had started to go down. He still had quite some trouble controlling it when his temper got out of hand.
At least nothing blew up this time.
He walked slightly behind the other two, out of respect for Seymour but also suspicion of the newcomer. The older teen seemed off for some reason. He’d seen plenty of people pale around the farplane, but never anyone that turned green from being around it. The red mage couldn’t imagine what else he could be other than human though. He certainly didn’t look like any of the other races of Spira.
Favael in his all too familiar persona seemed to be far more on edge than either Seymour or the possessor of the illegal weaponry. However, Seymour was full and well aware that the warrior monks of Yevon were permitted to carry such weapons; while he inwardly disagreed with it, he wasn't one to stand against such a long-honored tradition especially as Maester. He put on all too kind of an act to this stranger, intending to show him Guado hospitality at its finest; after all, he looked so under the weather! He waited for the visitor's answer before setting off toward the cafe; upon entering, all eyes were drawn on the trio and an immediate bow came from the surrounding patrons in respect of the Maester and their leader, as well as his company.
He smiled and nodded to each group as they quickly resumed eating before seating himself and the two with him at a table in a tucked away corner; there were a fair number of the monks here either on break or off duty for now, and behind the Maester's kind face he was hiding a sick grin at the situation. It would be interesting to see how this would play out; being a visitor though and not exactly a native, he wouldn't let the fellow be arrested; he'd offer a pardon, something to shock the community and show a more kind and generous side.
It wouldn't be long before a waiter hurriedly approached, clearly not wanting to waste any time. ''M-Maester! What a pleasant surprise! What can I get for you and your friends?'' Seymour would make the small point of ordering a fine yet weak wine, simply motioning to the other two to feel free to order whatever they wished before he himself ordered anything else.
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[style=font-family: Century Gothic; font-size: 10px; text-align: center; color: #4a95c4]credit goes to Lunar of Love Stamp and Back to Neverland[/style]
