The chatbox has been hidden for this page. It will reopen upon refresh. To hide the CBox permanently, select "Permanently Toggle Cbox" in your profile User Settings.
This chatbox is hidden. To reopen, edit your User Settings.
Whilst the king's death remains unbeknownst to most of the population of Taengea, the celebrations continue, as a large group of entertainers, paid by the Leventi family to gain popularity and thanks from the general populace for sharing their daughter's festivities with the people of the kingdom, take centre stage. Finding an open space that individuals from the troupe make larger with waving hands and gestures, it is not long before music, dancing and gymnastic spectacle take over the open and central square of the capitol.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
Whilst the king's death remains unbeknownst to most of the population of Taengea, the celebrations continue, as a large group of entertainers, paid by the Leventi family to gain popularity and thanks from the general populace for sharing their daughter's festivities with the people of the kingdom, take centre stage. Finding an open space that individuals from the troupe make larger with waving hands and gestures, it is not long before music, dancing and gymnastic spectacle take over the open and central square of the capitol.
Curveball Painting the Town Red
Whilst the king's death remains unbeknownst to most of the population of Taengea, the celebrations continue, as a large group of entertainers, paid by the Leventi family to gain popularity and thanks from the general populace for sharing their daughter's festivities with the people of the kingdom, take centre stage. Finding an open space that individuals from the troupe make larger with waving hands and gestures, it is not long before music, dancing and gymnastic spectacle take over the open and central square of the capitol.
Neena laughed at Hesi's insistence that she not eat the poultice, but didn't stop licking, sniffing and generally analysing it until the man who had been carrying it in the jar commented upon it containing donkey dung. At that point she was more than happy to crumple her face, wrinkle her nose and turn away from it in disdain. Bleugh. If it worked then fantastic, but she wasn't putting it in her mouth again.
The language barriers that might have concerned the Judean were no worry of hers. As she spoke both Greek and Hebrew, the breaks in his grammar and mis-use of words - not to mention the infrequent flip between the two languages worked fine for her; her mind translated them all the same and took his intentions at their meaning. As a linguist of multiple languages, Neena was lucky to be able to communicate as such and she simply smiled and saluted the Judean with her cup of wine as a gesture of respect.
She liked to drink. She didn't, on the other hand, think that everyone should. And the fact that the man held to his principles rather than catered to the masses, was something that she - as a natural rebel and wayward soul - could appreciate.
"Then by all means..." She told the man in Hebrew. "See to your duty."
Only, it was as the words left her mouth that Neena realised that this might not be entirely possible, for the crowds in the streets were still boisterous and difficult, especially as the performing troupe had now arrived and carved out a space for themselves in the centre of the square, enforcing more people into the smaller remaining space.
Putting her cup down and rising from her little upturned bucket, Neena gestured to Isaiah with a smile and a quick step that implied that she intended to help him.
"Come, come!" She told him, dropping down a few steps from the tavern and heading into the crowd, calling, waving and shuffling people out of the way so that a small path was made a few feet behind her, before it was swallowed up with people once more. If Isaiah could keep within a few steps of her heels, she would be able to see him and his precious vase through the crowd without issue. Which seemed to be what had happened by the time she reached the other side of the market and had gotten him to the walkway he had been aiming for when they had first collided with one another.
"Just down there." She told him with a pointing hand, hoping it was the right direction. She then smiled and raised a hand to her chest, in a gesture of respect for his culture. "Peace be upon you, Isaiah."
And, without a backwards glance, Neena darted back into the crowds, jumping to wave towards Hesi who was still nursing his drink, gesturing wildly for him to join her and heading for the dancers where she could let loose and really party....
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Neena laughed at Hesi's insistence that she not eat the poultice, but didn't stop licking, sniffing and generally analysing it until the man who had been carrying it in the jar commented upon it containing donkey dung. At that point she was more than happy to crumple her face, wrinkle her nose and turn away from it in disdain. Bleugh. If it worked then fantastic, but she wasn't putting it in her mouth again.
The language barriers that might have concerned the Judean were no worry of hers. As she spoke both Greek and Hebrew, the breaks in his grammar and mis-use of words - not to mention the infrequent flip between the two languages worked fine for her; her mind translated them all the same and took his intentions at their meaning. As a linguist of multiple languages, Neena was lucky to be able to communicate as such and she simply smiled and saluted the Judean with her cup of wine as a gesture of respect.
She liked to drink. She didn't, on the other hand, think that everyone should. And the fact that the man held to his principles rather than catered to the masses, was something that she - as a natural rebel and wayward soul - could appreciate.
"Then by all means..." She told the man in Hebrew. "See to your duty."
Only, it was as the words left her mouth that Neena realised that this might not be entirely possible, for the crowds in the streets were still boisterous and difficult, especially as the performing troupe had now arrived and carved out a space for themselves in the centre of the square, enforcing more people into the smaller remaining space.
Putting her cup down and rising from her little upturned bucket, Neena gestured to Isaiah with a smile and a quick step that implied that she intended to help him.
"Come, come!" She told him, dropping down a few steps from the tavern and heading into the crowd, calling, waving and shuffling people out of the way so that a small path was made a few feet behind her, before it was swallowed up with people once more. If Isaiah could keep within a few steps of her heels, she would be able to see him and his precious vase through the crowd without issue. Which seemed to be what had happened by the time she reached the other side of the market and had gotten him to the walkway he had been aiming for when they had first collided with one another.
"Just down there." She told him with a pointing hand, hoping it was the right direction. She then smiled and raised a hand to her chest, in a gesture of respect for his culture. "Peace be upon you, Isaiah."
And, without a backwards glance, Neena darted back into the crowds, jumping to wave towards Hesi who was still nursing his drink, gesturing wildly for him to join her and heading for the dancers where she could let loose and really party....
Neena laughed at Hesi's insistence that she not eat the poultice, but didn't stop licking, sniffing and generally analysing it until the man who had been carrying it in the jar commented upon it containing donkey dung. At that point she was more than happy to crumple her face, wrinkle her nose and turn away from it in disdain. Bleugh. If it worked then fantastic, but she wasn't putting it in her mouth again.
The language barriers that might have concerned the Judean were no worry of hers. As she spoke both Greek and Hebrew, the breaks in his grammar and mis-use of words - not to mention the infrequent flip between the two languages worked fine for her; her mind translated them all the same and took his intentions at their meaning. As a linguist of multiple languages, Neena was lucky to be able to communicate as such and she simply smiled and saluted the Judean with her cup of wine as a gesture of respect.
She liked to drink. She didn't, on the other hand, think that everyone should. And the fact that the man held to his principles rather than catered to the masses, was something that she - as a natural rebel and wayward soul - could appreciate.
"Then by all means..." She told the man in Hebrew. "See to your duty."
Only, it was as the words left her mouth that Neena realised that this might not be entirely possible, for the crowds in the streets were still boisterous and difficult, especially as the performing troupe had now arrived and carved out a space for themselves in the centre of the square, enforcing more people into the smaller remaining space.
Putting her cup down and rising from her little upturned bucket, Neena gestured to Isaiah with a smile and a quick step that implied that she intended to help him.
"Come, come!" She told him, dropping down a few steps from the tavern and heading into the crowd, calling, waving and shuffling people out of the way so that a small path was made a few feet behind her, before it was swallowed up with people once more. If Isaiah could keep within a few steps of her heels, she would be able to see him and his precious vase through the crowd without issue. Which seemed to be what had happened by the time she reached the other side of the market and had gotten him to the walkway he had been aiming for when they had first collided with one another.
"Just down there." She told him with a pointing hand, hoping it was the right direction. She then smiled and raised a hand to her chest, in a gesture of respect for his culture. "Peace be upon you, Isaiah."
And, without a backwards glance, Neena darted back into the crowds, jumping to wave towards Hesi who was still nursing his drink, gesturing wildly for him to join her and heading for the dancers where she could let loose and really party....
Hesiodos didn’t hide his laughter when Isaiah revealed the contents of the poultice; it was a loud laugh that came from his stomach, heart and soul, and that almost made him tear up, “That will teach you to not to put nasty things in your mouth… wait, as if I could talk about it!”, and then laughed even louder, if it was possible. He needed a moment to pause and breathe.
Hesiodos nodded, “Suit yourself, my friend. More for Neena and I”, he said in Hebrew in a solemn tone, not criticizing his Greek in any way; as he knew perfectly well how difficult was to think and speak in a language you barely knew. He never understood people that didn’t like to drink or get drunk… it was one of the finest pleasures of life! But if someone was not going to drink, he wouldn’t insist… he would just take their drink instead. As Isaiah left, Hesiodos waved, “Goodbye, Isaiah, I shall miss you, and always remember your kindness!”
He observed how Neena went and helped Isaiah to get past the crowd. He smiled to himself… in the years he knew Neena, he had seen that she was nothing but a good person. She had her attitude, which suited her like a glove, but overall she was always trying to be good to people, especially the ones that helped her. Hesiodos liked to think that she influenced him in such a way as well… and it was one of the reasons why he was proud to call her a friend.
The bard’s ears caught the call to dance, and the music of a band. Instinctively, his foot began to tap at the rhythm of the song, and he caught Neena gesturing to him to share a dance. Hesiodos’ legs were killing him because of the dance he did in the past, to get the people out of the palati so they wouldn’t see the dead king… but on the other hand, he only rejected a dance if he couldn’t do it at all. So he decided to stand up and have fun!
He almost ran towards Neena, saying to her, “I can play better than that”, with a cheeky tone, “…They’re still damn good, though!”, before taking her hand with his healthy hand and pulling her to where the people had fun. So he danced with her, a Greek dance that was done on taverns when music and drink flowed in equal measure, with wilderness and abandon that would make Dionysus proud. The tragedy that happened was forgotten for a moment, and his hearts contents were shown by the way he moved.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Hesiodos didn’t hide his laughter when Isaiah revealed the contents of the poultice; it was a loud laugh that came from his stomach, heart and soul, and that almost made him tear up, “That will teach you to not to put nasty things in your mouth… wait, as if I could talk about it!”, and then laughed even louder, if it was possible. He needed a moment to pause and breathe.
Hesiodos nodded, “Suit yourself, my friend. More for Neena and I”, he said in Hebrew in a solemn tone, not criticizing his Greek in any way; as he knew perfectly well how difficult was to think and speak in a language you barely knew. He never understood people that didn’t like to drink or get drunk… it was one of the finest pleasures of life! But if someone was not going to drink, he wouldn’t insist… he would just take their drink instead. As Isaiah left, Hesiodos waved, “Goodbye, Isaiah, I shall miss you, and always remember your kindness!”
He observed how Neena went and helped Isaiah to get past the crowd. He smiled to himself… in the years he knew Neena, he had seen that she was nothing but a good person. She had her attitude, which suited her like a glove, but overall she was always trying to be good to people, especially the ones that helped her. Hesiodos liked to think that she influenced him in such a way as well… and it was one of the reasons why he was proud to call her a friend.
The bard’s ears caught the call to dance, and the music of a band. Instinctively, his foot began to tap at the rhythm of the song, and he caught Neena gesturing to him to share a dance. Hesiodos’ legs were killing him because of the dance he did in the past, to get the people out of the palati so they wouldn’t see the dead king… but on the other hand, he only rejected a dance if he couldn’t do it at all. So he decided to stand up and have fun!
He almost ran towards Neena, saying to her, “I can play better than that”, with a cheeky tone, “…They’re still damn good, though!”, before taking her hand with his healthy hand and pulling her to where the people had fun. So he danced with her, a Greek dance that was done on taverns when music and drink flowed in equal measure, with wilderness and abandon that would make Dionysus proud. The tragedy that happened was forgotten for a moment, and his hearts contents were shown by the way he moved.
Hesiodos didn’t hide his laughter when Isaiah revealed the contents of the poultice; it was a loud laugh that came from his stomach, heart and soul, and that almost made him tear up, “That will teach you to not to put nasty things in your mouth… wait, as if I could talk about it!”, and then laughed even louder, if it was possible. He needed a moment to pause and breathe.
Hesiodos nodded, “Suit yourself, my friend. More for Neena and I”, he said in Hebrew in a solemn tone, not criticizing his Greek in any way; as he knew perfectly well how difficult was to think and speak in a language you barely knew. He never understood people that didn’t like to drink or get drunk… it was one of the finest pleasures of life! But if someone was not going to drink, he wouldn’t insist… he would just take their drink instead. As Isaiah left, Hesiodos waved, “Goodbye, Isaiah, I shall miss you, and always remember your kindness!”
He observed how Neena went and helped Isaiah to get past the crowd. He smiled to himself… in the years he knew Neena, he had seen that she was nothing but a good person. She had her attitude, which suited her like a glove, but overall she was always trying to be good to people, especially the ones that helped her. Hesiodos liked to think that she influenced him in such a way as well… and it was one of the reasons why he was proud to call her a friend.
The bard’s ears caught the call to dance, and the music of a band. Instinctively, his foot began to tap at the rhythm of the song, and he caught Neena gesturing to him to share a dance. Hesiodos’ legs were killing him because of the dance he did in the past, to get the people out of the palati so they wouldn’t see the dead king… but on the other hand, he only rejected a dance if he couldn’t do it at all. So he decided to stand up and have fun!
He almost ran towards Neena, saying to her, “I can play better than that”, with a cheeky tone, “…They’re still damn good, though!”, before taking her hand with his healthy hand and pulling her to where the people had fun. So he danced with her, a Greek dance that was done on taverns when music and drink flowed in equal measure, with wilderness and abandon that would make Dionysus proud. The tragedy that happened was forgotten for a moment, and his hearts contents were shown by the way he moved.
Isaiah had half feared they would attempt to make him stay. Some people were like that; meet a new friend, don’t want to let them go, or perhaps attempt to goad him until he relaxed his principles somewhat. Thankfully, neither of these two people appeared in any way to want to force him to do something he’d clearly stated he didn’t. This didn’t make him want to stay any more than he’d intended to a second ago, but it did make him feel as if this detour wasn’t an entirely pointless waste of time. His eyes softened when Neena brightened and volunteered to help him leave. Isaiah did not feel as though he needed the help, but she was already gone.
“Goodbye, Hesiodos,” he gave the bard a short wave, which was all he had time for, and was hot on Neena’s heels. To his eyes, she rather burst through the crowd, rather than weave. People were made to part for her whether they wanted to or not. Her small body barreled on, heedless of barrier, whereas he’d been doing his level best not to touch a single living soul on these streets. An impossible task during a celebration like this. Using Neena’s wake as the bubble of solitude he needed, Isaiah followed her all the way across the square and only had one more drink spilled on him. That, wonderfully, had gone down his back, soaking into his clothes and making them stick to his rear end.
“Goodbye, Neena,” he turned to say, going in the direction she’d pointed right at first and then realizing...it wasn’t right. It was right in the sense that the circus could be seen from here, but not actually gotten to from here. But that was alright. He was able to sort himself out with no trouble and side stepped, loudly proclaimed “Excuse me!”, and weaved his way to a side street that took him to a less populated portion of the city. From there, he made it back to the circus and handed over the jar to the horse master. Isaiah wasn’t asked where he’d been or why it had taken so long. The answer was obvious. After that, it was a matter of getting himself reasonably clean so that he could change clothes and pay to have these laundered. What a strange, strange day this had been.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Isaiah had half feared they would attempt to make him stay. Some people were like that; meet a new friend, don’t want to let them go, or perhaps attempt to goad him until he relaxed his principles somewhat. Thankfully, neither of these two people appeared in any way to want to force him to do something he’d clearly stated he didn’t. This didn’t make him want to stay any more than he’d intended to a second ago, but it did make him feel as if this detour wasn’t an entirely pointless waste of time. His eyes softened when Neena brightened and volunteered to help him leave. Isaiah did not feel as though he needed the help, but she was already gone.
“Goodbye, Hesiodos,” he gave the bard a short wave, which was all he had time for, and was hot on Neena’s heels. To his eyes, she rather burst through the crowd, rather than weave. People were made to part for her whether they wanted to or not. Her small body barreled on, heedless of barrier, whereas he’d been doing his level best not to touch a single living soul on these streets. An impossible task during a celebration like this. Using Neena’s wake as the bubble of solitude he needed, Isaiah followed her all the way across the square and only had one more drink spilled on him. That, wonderfully, had gone down his back, soaking into his clothes and making them stick to his rear end.
“Goodbye, Neena,” he turned to say, going in the direction she’d pointed right at first and then realizing...it wasn’t right. It was right in the sense that the circus could be seen from here, but not actually gotten to from here. But that was alright. He was able to sort himself out with no trouble and side stepped, loudly proclaimed “Excuse me!”, and weaved his way to a side street that took him to a less populated portion of the city. From there, he made it back to the circus and handed over the jar to the horse master. Isaiah wasn’t asked where he’d been or why it had taken so long. The answer was obvious. After that, it was a matter of getting himself reasonably clean so that he could change clothes and pay to have these laundered. What a strange, strange day this had been.
Isaiah had half feared they would attempt to make him stay. Some people were like that; meet a new friend, don’t want to let them go, or perhaps attempt to goad him until he relaxed his principles somewhat. Thankfully, neither of these two people appeared in any way to want to force him to do something he’d clearly stated he didn’t. This didn’t make him want to stay any more than he’d intended to a second ago, but it did make him feel as if this detour wasn’t an entirely pointless waste of time. His eyes softened when Neena brightened and volunteered to help him leave. Isaiah did not feel as though he needed the help, but she was already gone.
“Goodbye, Hesiodos,” he gave the bard a short wave, which was all he had time for, and was hot on Neena’s heels. To his eyes, she rather burst through the crowd, rather than weave. People were made to part for her whether they wanted to or not. Her small body barreled on, heedless of barrier, whereas he’d been doing his level best not to touch a single living soul on these streets. An impossible task during a celebration like this. Using Neena’s wake as the bubble of solitude he needed, Isaiah followed her all the way across the square and only had one more drink spilled on him. That, wonderfully, had gone down his back, soaking into his clothes and making them stick to his rear end.
“Goodbye, Neena,” he turned to say, going in the direction she’d pointed right at first and then realizing...it wasn’t right. It was right in the sense that the circus could be seen from here, but not actually gotten to from here. But that was alright. He was able to sort himself out with no trouble and side stepped, loudly proclaimed “Excuse me!”, and weaved his way to a side street that took him to a less populated portion of the city. From there, he made it back to the circus and handed over the jar to the horse master. Isaiah wasn’t asked where he’d been or why it had taken so long. The answer was obvious. After that, it was a matter of getting himself reasonably clean so that he could change clothes and pay to have these laundered. What a strange, strange day this had been.