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A proverbial bull in a pottery shop, Stelios would have happily torn through the entire crowd, the stone-paved plaza, the whole fucking city of Athenia if need be as long as the rampage ended in ripping the fool who'd dared to strike him to literal shreds. He was his father's son in far more ways than he was comfortable admitting but one quality he embraced without question was the ruthless application of every bit of Antonis stubbornness in destroying any who dared to assail him. One second more and he'd have been too far gone, too consumed by the red haze of vengeance to stop short of throttling the asshole to within an inch of his life but gods were merciful and that was the precise moment Leonidas interrupted their ungainly fracas on the broiling hot stones. A hand morphed into a rock-hard fist was cocked back ready to slug, if not at the gladiator's smug face then at that of whatever fool dared separate them but his bastard brother's words sank in through the riot of anger. Stelios stopped short, huffed, let himself be drawn to his feet.
And kicked the gladiator in the shin on his way up.
"And by Poseidon's sea-raisin'ed scrotum if there weren't a cause more important than ending your miserable life I'd kill you where you stand," he swore truthfully, glaring daggers at the damn good pugilist. A wincing rub at his jaw attested to that. Slate eyes looked askance at the other soldiers, the wary and thirsty throngs, the spectacle they must have made and the even greater disaster narrowly averted. "Captain," Stelios straightened his breastplate and looked ready to apply another blow to the gladiator but stopped short. "I think a fitting punishment would be for this man to fetch water for the more unsteady citizens come searching for a drop, don't you? Put him to work or to the lash if he refuses. People are dying of thirst. Let him do some good and we'll call it even. But tell me," he nodded before spitting out a plugget of blood at the feet of the fighter. "What's your name? I'm going to remember it."
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A proverbial bull in a pottery shop, Stelios would have happily torn through the entire crowd, the stone-paved plaza, the whole fucking city of Athenia if need be as long as the rampage ended in ripping the fool who'd dared to strike him to literal shreds. He was his father's son in far more ways than he was comfortable admitting but one quality he embraced without question was the ruthless application of every bit of Antonis stubbornness in destroying any who dared to assail him. One second more and he'd have been too far gone, too consumed by the red haze of vengeance to stop short of throttling the asshole to within an inch of his life but gods were merciful and that was the precise moment Leonidas interrupted their ungainly fracas on the broiling hot stones. A hand morphed into a rock-hard fist was cocked back ready to slug, if not at the gladiator's smug face then at that of whatever fool dared separate them but his bastard brother's words sank in through the riot of anger. Stelios stopped short, huffed, let himself be drawn to his feet.
And kicked the gladiator in the shin on his way up.
"And by Poseidon's sea-raisin'ed scrotum if there weren't a cause more important than ending your miserable life I'd kill you where you stand," he swore truthfully, glaring daggers at the damn good pugilist. A wincing rub at his jaw attested to that. Slate eyes looked askance at the other soldiers, the wary and thirsty throngs, the spectacle they must have made and the even greater disaster narrowly averted. "Captain," Stelios straightened his breastplate and looked ready to apply another blow to the gladiator but stopped short. "I think a fitting punishment would be for this man to fetch water for the more unsteady citizens come searching for a drop, don't you? Put him to work or to the lash if he refuses. People are dying of thirst. Let him do some good and we'll call it even. But tell me," he nodded before spitting out a plugget of blood at the feet of the fighter. "What's your name? I'm going to remember it."
A proverbial bull in a pottery shop, Stelios would have happily torn through the entire crowd, the stone-paved plaza, the whole fucking city of Athenia if need be as long as the rampage ended in ripping the fool who'd dared to strike him to literal shreds. He was his father's son in far more ways than he was comfortable admitting but one quality he embraced without question was the ruthless application of every bit of Antonis stubbornness in destroying any who dared to assail him. One second more and he'd have been too far gone, too consumed by the red haze of vengeance to stop short of throttling the asshole to within an inch of his life but gods were merciful and that was the precise moment Leonidas interrupted their ungainly fracas on the broiling hot stones. A hand morphed into a rock-hard fist was cocked back ready to slug, if not at the gladiator's smug face then at that of whatever fool dared separate them but his bastard brother's words sank in through the riot of anger. Stelios stopped short, huffed, let himself be drawn to his feet.
And kicked the gladiator in the shin on his way up.
"And by Poseidon's sea-raisin'ed scrotum if there weren't a cause more important than ending your miserable life I'd kill you where you stand," he swore truthfully, glaring daggers at the damn good pugilist. A wincing rub at his jaw attested to that. Slate eyes looked askance at the other soldiers, the wary and thirsty throngs, the spectacle they must have made and the even greater disaster narrowly averted. "Captain," Stelios straightened his breastplate and looked ready to apply another blow to the gladiator but stopped short. "I think a fitting punishment would be for this man to fetch water for the more unsteady citizens come searching for a drop, don't you? Put him to work or to the lash if he refuses. People are dying of thirst. Let him do some good and we'll call it even. But tell me," he nodded before spitting out a plugget of blood at the feet of the fighter. "What's your name? I'm going to remember it."
The air was hot, too hot in fact. Pavlos was quick to make his way across the city and ushered himself to one of the stalls nearby. That was until he heard the faint sounds of a scuffle. The smell of kicked up dirt and dry earth hit him in the face and quickly reminded him back on his days as a cavalry soldier. Today he wore his normal combat tunic that was in navy and white trim, his long sword attached at his side as he walked briskly to the center of the town. His mind was set on what and where he needed to go to get clean water for his horses, but what he heard next was something he wasn't expecting to see or hear.
"I think a fitting punishment would be for this man to fetch water for the more unsteady citizens come searching for a drop, don't you?"
Pavlos had just caught the whirlwind of words before entering the scene of something straight out of a history book. Huffing and shaking his head, he was quick to assert himself besides the captain. "Just what in beloved Athena's grace are you fools doing?!" He watched the one man spit out blood before asking for Lesley's name. "What's your name? I'm going to remember it". This would cause him to shake his head and huff. This man seemed to drag fights everywhere and he was starting to think if he should have retired to begin with. "Lesley...I should have known" after all he was much more known to create such craziness where ever he pleases. Huffing again and rubbing the back of his neck he turns back to the captain and grimaced with deep brows folding into his eyes.
Before him the clattering bodies of people jamming their way into lines trying to obtain water, and Pavlos could only thank the gods that his family was well put off. He huffed again, it seemed he was doing it more so these days, and he moves to grab a younger woman who was making her way after what may have been her grandmother 'mama, hold on, almost there okay?' Pavlos immediately had flashbacks of his mother when she was ill. All the times she was not well faired around the time of his siblings birth had hit him harder than it should have.
Pavlos moved quickly to place his hand before the elder "My lady. this way." but as soon as he had reached her the girl was quick to smack his hand away 'dont touch her!....momma..come on' He knew that many people of the city disliked the higher born, but this was a bit much for him wasn't it? "I beg your pardon miss as it seems you clearly need the aid in which to carry her to a safer place to rest. I do think you should rethink your actions and behavior to me, immediately." he gave a firm warning to the girl before she is slightly jested and stands firm in her place. He could tell she wanted to say something in return but dared not when the older woman tapped her arm gently.
'thank you sir' the woman and confirmed as Pavlos had reached out to her and guided her to the well. He tells her to sit still and not move until he had returned. Heading back to Lesley and the guardsmen he huffs. "You have much to chew on today I see..." rolling his shoulders he looks to lesley as he grins deviously. "Captain, if it agrees with you, I know a fitting price for the man to do for his ......actions here today.." he could work on that old woman and her daughter - for Pavlos knew today was not a day he wanted to deal with a snarky teenager. He already had three daughters at home he needed to deal with and frankly he wasn't in the best moods right now to even think upon it.
Pavlos fixes his clothes and runs his hand through his hair, making sure his appearance was as it should have been when he arrived here. Suddenly though he is hit at his back with a man rushing to try to get ahead of the line. It knocks Pavlos clear off his heels and sends him unbalanced to the left as he catches himself against the water's well wall. Gasping as he nearly falls into the pit he tries to correct his balance as he feels a pinch of pain to his right leg. 'ouch..' his right eye squeezes at the pain momentarily as he reflexively reaches down to run his palm against the tender area. That son of a fucking whore, he growls beneath his breath and stands back up once more fixing his appearance as he grabs the man by his tunic. "Have you gone mad?!" he shoves the man from the line, his leg clearly now slowly showing a bit of red down it, but Pavlos ignores it. He is used to feeling pain by now. To him it was just like breathing.
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The air was hot, too hot in fact. Pavlos was quick to make his way across the city and ushered himself to one of the stalls nearby. That was until he heard the faint sounds of a scuffle. The smell of kicked up dirt and dry earth hit him in the face and quickly reminded him back on his days as a cavalry soldier. Today he wore his normal combat tunic that was in navy and white trim, his long sword attached at his side as he walked briskly to the center of the town. His mind was set on what and where he needed to go to get clean water for his horses, but what he heard next was something he wasn't expecting to see or hear.
"I think a fitting punishment would be for this man to fetch water for the more unsteady citizens come searching for a drop, don't you?"
Pavlos had just caught the whirlwind of words before entering the scene of something straight out of a history book. Huffing and shaking his head, he was quick to assert himself besides the captain. "Just what in beloved Athena's grace are you fools doing?!" He watched the one man spit out blood before asking for Lesley's name. "What's your name? I'm going to remember it". This would cause him to shake his head and huff. This man seemed to drag fights everywhere and he was starting to think if he should have retired to begin with. "Lesley...I should have known" after all he was much more known to create such craziness where ever he pleases. Huffing again and rubbing the back of his neck he turns back to the captain and grimaced with deep brows folding into his eyes.
Before him the clattering bodies of people jamming their way into lines trying to obtain water, and Pavlos could only thank the gods that his family was well put off. He huffed again, it seemed he was doing it more so these days, and he moves to grab a younger woman who was making her way after what may have been her grandmother 'mama, hold on, almost there okay?' Pavlos immediately had flashbacks of his mother when she was ill. All the times she was not well faired around the time of his siblings birth had hit him harder than it should have.
Pavlos moved quickly to place his hand before the elder "My lady. this way." but as soon as he had reached her the girl was quick to smack his hand away 'dont touch her!....momma..come on' He knew that many people of the city disliked the higher born, but this was a bit much for him wasn't it? "I beg your pardon miss as it seems you clearly need the aid in which to carry her to a safer place to rest. I do think you should rethink your actions and behavior to me, immediately." he gave a firm warning to the girl before she is slightly jested and stands firm in her place. He could tell she wanted to say something in return but dared not when the older woman tapped her arm gently.
'thank you sir' the woman and confirmed as Pavlos had reached out to her and guided her to the well. He tells her to sit still and not move until he had returned. Heading back to Lesley and the guardsmen he huffs. "You have much to chew on today I see..." rolling his shoulders he looks to lesley as he grins deviously. "Captain, if it agrees with you, I know a fitting price for the man to do for his ......actions here today.." he could work on that old woman and her daughter - for Pavlos knew today was not a day he wanted to deal with a snarky teenager. He already had three daughters at home he needed to deal with and frankly he wasn't in the best moods right now to even think upon it.
Pavlos fixes his clothes and runs his hand through his hair, making sure his appearance was as it should have been when he arrived here. Suddenly though he is hit at his back with a man rushing to try to get ahead of the line. It knocks Pavlos clear off his heels and sends him unbalanced to the left as he catches himself against the water's well wall. Gasping as he nearly falls into the pit he tries to correct his balance as he feels a pinch of pain to his right leg. 'ouch..' his right eye squeezes at the pain momentarily as he reflexively reaches down to run his palm against the tender area. That son of a fucking whore, he growls beneath his breath and stands back up once more fixing his appearance as he grabs the man by his tunic. "Have you gone mad?!" he shoves the man from the line, his leg clearly now slowly showing a bit of red down it, but Pavlos ignores it. He is used to feeling pain by now. To him it was just like breathing.
The air was hot, too hot in fact. Pavlos was quick to make his way across the city and ushered himself to one of the stalls nearby. That was until he heard the faint sounds of a scuffle. The smell of kicked up dirt and dry earth hit him in the face and quickly reminded him back on his days as a cavalry soldier. Today he wore his normal combat tunic that was in navy and white trim, his long sword attached at his side as he walked briskly to the center of the town. His mind was set on what and where he needed to go to get clean water for his horses, but what he heard next was something he wasn't expecting to see or hear.
"I think a fitting punishment would be for this man to fetch water for the more unsteady citizens come searching for a drop, don't you?"
Pavlos had just caught the whirlwind of words before entering the scene of something straight out of a history book. Huffing and shaking his head, he was quick to assert himself besides the captain. "Just what in beloved Athena's grace are you fools doing?!" He watched the one man spit out blood before asking for Lesley's name. "What's your name? I'm going to remember it". This would cause him to shake his head and huff. This man seemed to drag fights everywhere and he was starting to think if he should have retired to begin with. "Lesley...I should have known" after all he was much more known to create such craziness where ever he pleases. Huffing again and rubbing the back of his neck he turns back to the captain and grimaced with deep brows folding into his eyes.
Before him the clattering bodies of people jamming their way into lines trying to obtain water, and Pavlos could only thank the gods that his family was well put off. He huffed again, it seemed he was doing it more so these days, and he moves to grab a younger woman who was making her way after what may have been her grandmother 'mama, hold on, almost there okay?' Pavlos immediately had flashbacks of his mother when she was ill. All the times she was not well faired around the time of his siblings birth had hit him harder than it should have.
Pavlos moved quickly to place his hand before the elder "My lady. this way." but as soon as he had reached her the girl was quick to smack his hand away 'dont touch her!....momma..come on' He knew that many people of the city disliked the higher born, but this was a bit much for him wasn't it? "I beg your pardon miss as it seems you clearly need the aid in which to carry her to a safer place to rest. I do think you should rethink your actions and behavior to me, immediately." he gave a firm warning to the girl before she is slightly jested and stands firm in her place. He could tell she wanted to say something in return but dared not when the older woman tapped her arm gently.
'thank you sir' the woman and confirmed as Pavlos had reached out to her and guided her to the well. He tells her to sit still and not move until he had returned. Heading back to Lesley and the guardsmen he huffs. "You have much to chew on today I see..." rolling his shoulders he looks to lesley as he grins deviously. "Captain, if it agrees with you, I know a fitting price for the man to do for his ......actions here today.." he could work on that old woman and her daughter - for Pavlos knew today was not a day he wanted to deal with a snarky teenager. He already had three daughters at home he needed to deal with and frankly he wasn't in the best moods right now to even think upon it.
Pavlos fixes his clothes and runs his hand through his hair, making sure his appearance was as it should have been when he arrived here. Suddenly though he is hit at his back with a man rushing to try to get ahead of the line. It knocks Pavlos clear off his heels and sends him unbalanced to the left as he catches himself against the water's well wall. Gasping as he nearly falls into the pit he tries to correct his balance as he feels a pinch of pain to his right leg. 'ouch..' his right eye squeezes at the pain momentarily as he reflexively reaches down to run his palm against the tender area. That son of a fucking whore, he growls beneath his breath and stands back up once more fixing his appearance as he grabs the man by his tunic. "Have you gone mad?!" he shoves the man from the line, his leg clearly now slowly showing a bit of red down it, but Pavlos ignores it. He is used to feeling pain by now. To him it was just like breathing.
The kick to his shin had been petty, and the look Lesley gave the man told him clearly that he thought even less of him for it.
"Lelsey the Briton," he answered the demand for his name. He rarely used the epithet the Arcus had given him, but it seemed appropriate at the moment. "And if you'd like another chance, you're welcome to step into the arena with me sometime," he added with a wicked grin. On equal footing, with armour and a weapon of his own? Oh, yes, he'd happily take this one. And if the hot tempered commander beat him, well, that was they way of things. Death threats never bothered the gladiator, because death itself didn't bother him.
He glanced over at the latest noble to join their little crowd. "Lord Pavlos," he acknowledged. His posture still showed no sign of submission, and there was no hint of apology or shame in him, but his tone, at least, held at least some measure of deference, and he sounded honestly respectful. The gladiator was not, however, capable of maintaining either deference or formality for more than a couple of moments. "Some idiot jumped me," he complained, "but of course I'm getting blamed, as usual." He rolled his eyes, and shrugged as the other man got distracted helping someone else. Leonidas got a look, the gladiator wondering whether the man holding him was going to agree to just let him off with a bit of community service.
Pavlos's comment upon his return that he had a punishment to suggest had Lesley groaning out loud. "Zeus's cock, I don't need you getting creative on me," he muttered under his breath. With a relative stranger, he'd have at least tried to keep his mouth shut, but with someone who knew him well enough to know he was thinking it, why waste the effort?
His eyes lit up though, and he laughed out loud as some other idiot jumped the Marikos patriarch - or, well, close enough. "See? Everybody's crazy today, not just me." Lesley, after all, was always crazy. Pavlos, though, seemed to like him well enough anyway, which was rare enough outside the Arcus. He'd have made a good gladiator, to be honest. For his part, Lesley always found it easy to like someone who didn't too much mind getting beat up.
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The kick to his shin had been petty, and the look Lesley gave the man told him clearly that he thought even less of him for it.
"Lelsey the Briton," he answered the demand for his name. He rarely used the epithet the Arcus had given him, but it seemed appropriate at the moment. "And if you'd like another chance, you're welcome to step into the arena with me sometime," he added with a wicked grin. On equal footing, with armour and a weapon of his own? Oh, yes, he'd happily take this one. And if the hot tempered commander beat him, well, that was they way of things. Death threats never bothered the gladiator, because death itself didn't bother him.
He glanced over at the latest noble to join their little crowd. "Lord Pavlos," he acknowledged. His posture still showed no sign of submission, and there was no hint of apology or shame in him, but his tone, at least, held at least some measure of deference, and he sounded honestly respectful. The gladiator was not, however, capable of maintaining either deference or formality for more than a couple of moments. "Some idiot jumped me," he complained, "but of course I'm getting blamed, as usual." He rolled his eyes, and shrugged as the other man got distracted helping someone else. Leonidas got a look, the gladiator wondering whether the man holding him was going to agree to just let him off with a bit of community service.
Pavlos's comment upon his return that he had a punishment to suggest had Lesley groaning out loud. "Zeus's cock, I don't need you getting creative on me," he muttered under his breath. With a relative stranger, he'd have at least tried to keep his mouth shut, but with someone who knew him well enough to know he was thinking it, why waste the effort?
His eyes lit up though, and he laughed out loud as some other idiot jumped the Marikos patriarch - or, well, close enough. "See? Everybody's crazy today, not just me." Lesley, after all, was always crazy. Pavlos, though, seemed to like him well enough anyway, which was rare enough outside the Arcus. He'd have made a good gladiator, to be honest. For his part, Lesley always found it easy to like someone who didn't too much mind getting beat up.
The kick to his shin had been petty, and the look Lesley gave the man told him clearly that he thought even less of him for it.
"Lelsey the Briton," he answered the demand for his name. He rarely used the epithet the Arcus had given him, but it seemed appropriate at the moment. "And if you'd like another chance, you're welcome to step into the arena with me sometime," he added with a wicked grin. On equal footing, with armour and a weapon of his own? Oh, yes, he'd happily take this one. And if the hot tempered commander beat him, well, that was they way of things. Death threats never bothered the gladiator, because death itself didn't bother him.
He glanced over at the latest noble to join their little crowd. "Lord Pavlos," he acknowledged. His posture still showed no sign of submission, and there was no hint of apology or shame in him, but his tone, at least, held at least some measure of deference, and he sounded honestly respectful. The gladiator was not, however, capable of maintaining either deference or formality for more than a couple of moments. "Some idiot jumped me," he complained, "but of course I'm getting blamed, as usual." He rolled his eyes, and shrugged as the other man got distracted helping someone else. Leonidas got a look, the gladiator wondering whether the man holding him was going to agree to just let him off with a bit of community service.
Pavlos's comment upon his return that he had a punishment to suggest had Lesley groaning out loud. "Zeus's cock, I don't need you getting creative on me," he muttered under his breath. With a relative stranger, he'd have at least tried to keep his mouth shut, but with someone who knew him well enough to know he was thinking it, why waste the effort?
His eyes lit up though, and he laughed out loud as some other idiot jumped the Marikos patriarch - or, well, close enough. "See? Everybody's crazy today, not just me." Lesley, after all, was always crazy. Pavlos, though, seemed to like him well enough anyway, which was rare enough outside the Arcus. He'd have made a good gladiator, to be honest. For his part, Lesley always found it easy to like someone who didn't too much mind getting beat up.
Rafail was in the worst mood. A horrendous wave of heat had hit Athenia and, although he did not usually care for the troubles of the peasantry, this particular irritation was bothering him as well. He knew he should have opted to remain in Thesnia over the summer months, particularly as the sun had begun to shine brighter and the temperature had grown insufferable, and the thought of the cool lake breeze he might have enjoyed in the province was a welcome one, though it only fuelled his frustration at the weather further.
Nonetheless, the awful heat had not deterred him from venturing into the city this day - his loves of shopping, sex and flaunting his wealth prevented him from remaining indoors too long - and he had left the Marikas home earlier than was usual for him, in the hopes of avoiding the worst of the sun. It had not worked. The journey through the streets of Athenia had been sweltering, and the weather only worsened as he found himself passing into the lower levels of the city, a place he rarely tended to visit save for the knowledge that, at times, those brothels hidden in the darker streets of the city hid the most delightful women.
After that fiasco at the boat race, Rafail had made Papa sell the gladiator whom he so often trusted as a guard, and the new one he had been appointed was far less entertaining. The youngest Marikas son had yet to learn the man's name, but he had already found him to be a bore in comparison to Balius: he hardly ever seemed put out by the humiliations Rafail inflicted upon him. There was no entertainment in that. Still, he was silent and obedient and burly enough that people already shied away from him before Rafail even had to demand it.
Rounding a corner en route to his less than reputable destination, he stumbled across quite the scene. Some commotion had broken out (although he had come to assume that was common in the more inferior ranks of society) but, worse than that; it appeared his brother was involved. It was though Pavlos could not wait but humiliate the family name, and Rafail found himself in need to restore their reputation before he ruined them entirely. And people assumed it was the other way around.
Smoothening out the folds of the finely spun silk chiton in a deep purple shade he had opted for that day, Rafail gestured for his bodyguard to clear a reasonable path through the crowd so that he might approach his brother and the men with which he spoke. "Pavlos. Lord Stelios," he greeted, ignoring the others present save for a quick and disdainful flickering of his gaze. Urgh, there were far too many people here, and he could not understand why. He had instructed his guard to carry the canteen he had briefly used in his military days, filled with the freshest water lest he suddenly find himself thirsty. The peasantry should have been capable of similar action.
"What is going on? Your leg is bleeding, Pav. You're going to humiliate me and Papa."
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Rafail was in the worst mood. A horrendous wave of heat had hit Athenia and, although he did not usually care for the troubles of the peasantry, this particular irritation was bothering him as well. He knew he should have opted to remain in Thesnia over the summer months, particularly as the sun had begun to shine brighter and the temperature had grown insufferable, and the thought of the cool lake breeze he might have enjoyed in the province was a welcome one, though it only fuelled his frustration at the weather further.
Nonetheless, the awful heat had not deterred him from venturing into the city this day - his loves of shopping, sex and flaunting his wealth prevented him from remaining indoors too long - and he had left the Marikas home earlier than was usual for him, in the hopes of avoiding the worst of the sun. It had not worked. The journey through the streets of Athenia had been sweltering, and the weather only worsened as he found himself passing into the lower levels of the city, a place he rarely tended to visit save for the knowledge that, at times, those brothels hidden in the darker streets of the city hid the most delightful women.
After that fiasco at the boat race, Rafail had made Papa sell the gladiator whom he so often trusted as a guard, and the new one he had been appointed was far less entertaining. The youngest Marikas son had yet to learn the man's name, but he had already found him to be a bore in comparison to Balius: he hardly ever seemed put out by the humiliations Rafail inflicted upon him. There was no entertainment in that. Still, he was silent and obedient and burly enough that people already shied away from him before Rafail even had to demand it.
Rounding a corner en route to his less than reputable destination, he stumbled across quite the scene. Some commotion had broken out (although he had come to assume that was common in the more inferior ranks of society) but, worse than that; it appeared his brother was involved. It was though Pavlos could not wait but humiliate the family name, and Rafail found himself in need to restore their reputation before he ruined them entirely. And people assumed it was the other way around.
Smoothening out the folds of the finely spun silk chiton in a deep purple shade he had opted for that day, Rafail gestured for his bodyguard to clear a reasonable path through the crowd so that he might approach his brother and the men with which he spoke. "Pavlos. Lord Stelios," he greeted, ignoring the others present save for a quick and disdainful flickering of his gaze. Urgh, there were far too many people here, and he could not understand why. He had instructed his guard to carry the canteen he had briefly used in his military days, filled with the freshest water lest he suddenly find himself thirsty. The peasantry should have been capable of similar action.
"What is going on? Your leg is bleeding, Pav. You're going to humiliate me and Papa."
Rafail was in the worst mood. A horrendous wave of heat had hit Athenia and, although he did not usually care for the troubles of the peasantry, this particular irritation was bothering him as well. He knew he should have opted to remain in Thesnia over the summer months, particularly as the sun had begun to shine brighter and the temperature had grown insufferable, and the thought of the cool lake breeze he might have enjoyed in the province was a welcome one, though it only fuelled his frustration at the weather further.
Nonetheless, the awful heat had not deterred him from venturing into the city this day - his loves of shopping, sex and flaunting his wealth prevented him from remaining indoors too long - and he had left the Marikas home earlier than was usual for him, in the hopes of avoiding the worst of the sun. It had not worked. The journey through the streets of Athenia had been sweltering, and the weather only worsened as he found himself passing into the lower levels of the city, a place he rarely tended to visit save for the knowledge that, at times, those brothels hidden in the darker streets of the city hid the most delightful women.
After that fiasco at the boat race, Rafail had made Papa sell the gladiator whom he so often trusted as a guard, and the new one he had been appointed was far less entertaining. The youngest Marikas son had yet to learn the man's name, but he had already found him to be a bore in comparison to Balius: he hardly ever seemed put out by the humiliations Rafail inflicted upon him. There was no entertainment in that. Still, he was silent and obedient and burly enough that people already shied away from him before Rafail even had to demand it.
Rounding a corner en route to his less than reputable destination, he stumbled across quite the scene. Some commotion had broken out (although he had come to assume that was common in the more inferior ranks of society) but, worse than that; it appeared his brother was involved. It was though Pavlos could not wait but humiliate the family name, and Rafail found himself in need to restore their reputation before he ruined them entirely. And people assumed it was the other way around.
Smoothening out the folds of the finely spun silk chiton in a deep purple shade he had opted for that day, Rafail gestured for his bodyguard to clear a reasonable path through the crowd so that he might approach his brother and the men with which he spoke. "Pavlos. Lord Stelios," he greeted, ignoring the others present save for a quick and disdainful flickering of his gaze. Urgh, there were far too many people here, and he could not understand why. He had instructed his guard to carry the canteen he had briefly used in his military days, filled with the freshest water lest he suddenly find himself thirsty. The peasantry should have been capable of similar action.
"What is going on? Your leg is bleeding, Pav. You're going to humiliate me and Papa."
It was so hot.. Koko didn’t like hot weather...he didn’t like it one bit. The sun up above heated up his fair skin, threatening to give him sunburn. The heat...it was just so much. It was enough to get him to stop playing his instrument, so that was saying something. He would have to be careful, he liked to wear less revealing, dark clothing and he wasn’t about to pass out in front of everybody. Plus, his throat..if he couldn’t quench his thirst soon, he was afraid that’d he’d lose his voice. That was something that would literally break Koko in half. He tried his best to push past the crowd, but the men pushed him back, treating like like nothing more than a measly scrap.
”If only they knew of my father...” Koko gently murmured out to himself, his voice easily drowned out by the crowd. If they knew of her father, would they treat her like this? Would she be respected more and given water?
Women and children first..
Thank Apollo!
Koko immediately rushed forward, using all of his strength to get to the front. Water.. She needed water! His throat felt like a desert, it felt so dry and breathing didn’t help. Koko felt like he was inhaling dust...Literal dust! Then again, perhaps she was..
Koko then flinched, letting out a soft shriek when the arguing began. She hated fights...All she wanted to do was get water.. She didn’t want to do anything more. Koko was desperate, she didn’t want to prove himself to anyone. She didn’t care how pathetic she seemed, how desperate she acted.. The one thing she wouldn’t do was sell her beloved instrument. That would get her a lot of coins but she wasn’t that willing..
Koko then found himself suddenly falling to the ground, a cry of pain escaping from his cracked lips.
They were going to trample over her..!
“Water...please!”
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It was so hot.. Koko didn’t like hot weather...he didn’t like it one bit. The sun up above heated up his fair skin, threatening to give him sunburn. The heat...it was just so much. It was enough to get him to stop playing his instrument, so that was saying something. He would have to be careful, he liked to wear less revealing, dark clothing and he wasn’t about to pass out in front of everybody. Plus, his throat..if he couldn’t quench his thirst soon, he was afraid that’d he’d lose his voice. That was something that would literally break Koko in half. He tried his best to push past the crowd, but the men pushed him back, treating like like nothing more than a measly scrap.
”If only they knew of my father...” Koko gently murmured out to himself, his voice easily drowned out by the crowd. If they knew of her father, would they treat her like this? Would she be respected more and given water?
Women and children first..
Thank Apollo!
Koko immediately rushed forward, using all of his strength to get to the front. Water.. She needed water! His throat felt like a desert, it felt so dry and breathing didn’t help. Koko felt like he was inhaling dust...Literal dust! Then again, perhaps she was..
Koko then flinched, letting out a soft shriek when the arguing began. She hated fights...All she wanted to do was get water.. She didn’t want to do anything more. Koko was desperate, she didn’t want to prove himself to anyone. She didn’t care how pathetic she seemed, how desperate she acted.. The one thing she wouldn’t do was sell her beloved instrument. That would get her a lot of coins but she wasn’t that willing..
Koko then found himself suddenly falling to the ground, a cry of pain escaping from his cracked lips.
They were going to trample over her..!
“Water...please!”
It was so hot.. Koko didn’t like hot weather...he didn’t like it one bit. The sun up above heated up his fair skin, threatening to give him sunburn. The heat...it was just so much. It was enough to get him to stop playing his instrument, so that was saying something. He would have to be careful, he liked to wear less revealing, dark clothing and he wasn’t about to pass out in front of everybody. Plus, his throat..if he couldn’t quench his thirst soon, he was afraid that’d he’d lose his voice. That was something that would literally break Koko in half. He tried his best to push past the crowd, but the men pushed him back, treating like like nothing more than a measly scrap.
”If only they knew of my father...” Koko gently murmured out to himself, his voice easily drowned out by the crowd. If they knew of her father, would they treat her like this? Would she be respected more and given water?
Women and children first..
Thank Apollo!
Koko immediately rushed forward, using all of his strength to get to the front. Water.. She needed water! His throat felt like a desert, it felt so dry and breathing didn’t help. Koko felt like he was inhaling dust...Literal dust! Then again, perhaps she was..
Koko then flinched, letting out a soft shriek when the arguing began. She hated fights...All she wanted to do was get water.. She didn’t want to do anything more. Koko was desperate, she didn’t want to prove himself to anyone. She didn’t care how pathetic she seemed, how desperate she acted.. The one thing she wouldn’t do was sell her beloved instrument. That would get her a lot of coins but she wasn’t that willing..
Koko then found himself suddenly falling to the ground, a cry of pain escaping from his cracked lips.
They were going to trample over her..!
“Water...please!”
Curveball Helios on High
As the heat grows steadily more intense and the guardsman attempt to keep things under control a young urchin attempts to steal a pale of water from another, wealthier child. The father of the latter strikes out a hand, knocking the dirty creature to the floor with a shout. As if the call is a spark to a bonfire, the kindling of the angry people is lit and suddenly a right breaks out. Whilst some engage and throw punches, others scramble on the floor, attempting to catch the falling water from people's containers. Others are thrown around and knocked to the ground. Chaos starts to spread through the open space surrounding the well and a ripple of rumour sets out over the people of Athenia: That people are fighting because there isn't enough water. Calls that the water is limited, that there isn't enough for everyone, however untrue are spurred by fear through the streets and suddenly everyone of the capitol is rushing to the nearest wells with as many carriers and holders as they can carry in order to seize the water their families need before the wells dry up - and eventuality that now feels like an immediate inevitability as mayhem reigns and the sun continues to beat down from above...
JD
Staff Team
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Staff Team
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As the heat grows steadily more intense and the guardsman attempt to keep things under control a young urchin attempts to steal a pale of water from another, wealthier child. The father of the latter strikes out a hand, knocking the dirty creature to the floor with a shout. As if the call is a spark to a bonfire, the kindling of the angry people is lit and suddenly a right breaks out. Whilst some engage and throw punches, others scramble on the floor, attempting to catch the falling water from people's containers. Others are thrown around and knocked to the ground. Chaos starts to spread through the open space surrounding the well and a ripple of rumour sets out over the people of Athenia: That people are fighting because there isn't enough water. Calls that the water is limited, that there isn't enough for everyone, however untrue are spurred by fear through the streets and suddenly everyone of the capitol is rushing to the nearest wells with as many carriers and holders as they can carry in order to seize the water their families need before the wells dry up - and eventuality that now feels like an immediate inevitability as mayhem reigns and the sun continues to beat down from above...
Curveball Helios on High
As the heat grows steadily more intense and the guardsman attempt to keep things under control a young urchin attempts to steal a pale of water from another, wealthier child. The father of the latter strikes out a hand, knocking the dirty creature to the floor with a shout. As if the call is a spark to a bonfire, the kindling of the angry people is lit and suddenly a right breaks out. Whilst some engage and throw punches, others scramble on the floor, attempting to catch the falling water from people's containers. Others are thrown around and knocked to the ground. Chaos starts to spread through the open space surrounding the well and a ripple of rumour sets out over the people of Athenia: That people are fighting because there isn't enough water. Calls that the water is limited, that there isn't enough for everyone, however untrue are spurred by fear through the streets and suddenly everyone of the capitol is rushing to the nearest wells with as many carriers and holders as they can carry in order to seize the water their families need before the wells dry up - and eventuality that now feels like an immediate inevitability as mayhem reigns and the sun continues to beat down from above...
Lesley rolled his shoulder, unconsciously making sure his joints were still working properly, when Leonidas seemed to have gotten convinced he wasn't either rabid or about to bolt, and gave Rafail a look that held no trace of the respect he'd given the lordling's brother. "Yes, well, you certainly don't need any help in that regard." Once again, the gladiator didn't even have the courtesy to keep his comment to a surly mutter, speaking as confidently as if he had every right to criticize the younger Marikas.
Honestly, what was the little pansy going to do? Hit him? Lesley smirked to himself as he let his eyes roam over the crowd. Things were heating up, something was prickling between his shoulderblades, and he shifted his weight, rolling up onto the balls of his feet again. The little pockets of anger in the crowd had been there all day, like swirling eddies momentarily appearing and smoothing out again in the slow-moving stream of people walking past. So far nothing as serious as the fight he'd just gotten in, but he could practically feel the mood of the crowd shifting... and then it reached the tipping point. Some of the guards moved, trying to contain it, but it was like the first tumbling pebbles of an avalanche now. There was no point trying to catch the rocks you could already see moving, even if you could; the only thing now for a sensible person to do was to get themselves out of the way as well as they could.
"Right, then," he informed the commander crisply. "Happy to help. Keep a safe cordon for the ladies to hide behind will you?" The tilt of his head may have been simply to confirm that it was a question, and not a presumptuous order - but it also happened to just be in Rafail's direction, and his eyes flicked that way too, just for a moment. Anticipation of another fight held far more of his attention than any opportunity for sass towards Pavlos's very annoying baby brother, though; it was simply habit, and the tiny smirk grew into an anticipatory smile too quickly to prove it was ever there.
He turned away with a quick stride, already assessing the entire situation and everyone nearby, and noticed which soldier was the most off-balance by the turn of events as easily as he noticed who was about to be drawn in to the growing melee. "Excuse me, I'll need this, thank you." He spun the spear he'd just commandeered like a staff, and snapped the butt into the side of a man who'd just deliberately shoved a young boy to the ground. "None of that, now." The boy scrambled to his feet with a look that suggested he wasn't going to get caught unawares a second time, and Les flashed him a grin and moved on.
Someone stumbled, and Les shifted and caught them neatly. A woman, he noticed as his arm wrapped around her torso, but it wasn't someone he recognized as a fighter, and so he didn't bother trying to place the slightly familiar face. With the spear nestled into the crook of his arm rather than balanced in two hands, it was awkward to beat off the man who swung at him a moment later, but he made it look smooth anyway. Lesley was nothing if not a showman, and getting caught with a two-handed weapon and only one usable hand was a predictable enough scenario he'd trained for it. He still avoided hitting anyone with the sharp speartip; he was still aware that this was not the arena, and he wasn't aiming to kill anyone. If it got to the point he was genuinely worried for his life, his priorities might shift, but for now, he was indeed aiming to help.
"Head for the guards. They'll get you water," he informed Koko. He wasn't sure that was true, but it probably was, and more importantly it should be sufficient motivation not to succumb to the heat for another few moments. As soon as the other was no longer entirely leaning on him, he took a proper grip on the spear again, keeping his momentary charge barely in his peripheral vision as they headed back towards the nearest guard. He might never have been trained as a bodyguard, but he'd stood over an injured friend in a melee more than once, and once upon a time he'd trained to cover the next man over in a shield wall; moving in step with someone and expanding his circle of defense wasn't terribly hard. The fact he looked like he knew what he was doing and he was one of the only ones armed, and no-one had any reason to target them specifically, made it that much easier.
Sharp eyes picked out other victims as easily as other threats, and he left the musician to stumble the last few steps on her own as he slipped back into the crowd to go rescue a woman trying to defend both her small child and her water jar.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Lesley rolled his shoulder, unconsciously making sure his joints were still working properly, when Leonidas seemed to have gotten convinced he wasn't either rabid or about to bolt, and gave Rafail a look that held no trace of the respect he'd given the lordling's brother. "Yes, well, you certainly don't need any help in that regard." Once again, the gladiator didn't even have the courtesy to keep his comment to a surly mutter, speaking as confidently as if he had every right to criticize the younger Marikas.
Honestly, what was the little pansy going to do? Hit him? Lesley smirked to himself as he let his eyes roam over the crowd. Things were heating up, something was prickling between his shoulderblades, and he shifted his weight, rolling up onto the balls of his feet again. The little pockets of anger in the crowd had been there all day, like swirling eddies momentarily appearing and smoothing out again in the slow-moving stream of people walking past. So far nothing as serious as the fight he'd just gotten in, but he could practically feel the mood of the crowd shifting... and then it reached the tipping point. Some of the guards moved, trying to contain it, but it was like the first tumbling pebbles of an avalanche now. There was no point trying to catch the rocks you could already see moving, even if you could; the only thing now for a sensible person to do was to get themselves out of the way as well as they could.
"Right, then," he informed the commander crisply. "Happy to help. Keep a safe cordon for the ladies to hide behind will you?" The tilt of his head may have been simply to confirm that it was a question, and not a presumptuous order - but it also happened to just be in Rafail's direction, and his eyes flicked that way too, just for a moment. Anticipation of another fight held far more of his attention than any opportunity for sass towards Pavlos's very annoying baby brother, though; it was simply habit, and the tiny smirk grew into an anticipatory smile too quickly to prove it was ever there.
He turned away with a quick stride, already assessing the entire situation and everyone nearby, and noticed which soldier was the most off-balance by the turn of events as easily as he noticed who was about to be drawn in to the growing melee. "Excuse me, I'll need this, thank you." He spun the spear he'd just commandeered like a staff, and snapped the butt into the side of a man who'd just deliberately shoved a young boy to the ground. "None of that, now." The boy scrambled to his feet with a look that suggested he wasn't going to get caught unawares a second time, and Les flashed him a grin and moved on.
Someone stumbled, and Les shifted and caught them neatly. A woman, he noticed as his arm wrapped around her torso, but it wasn't someone he recognized as a fighter, and so he didn't bother trying to place the slightly familiar face. With the spear nestled into the crook of his arm rather than balanced in two hands, it was awkward to beat off the man who swung at him a moment later, but he made it look smooth anyway. Lesley was nothing if not a showman, and getting caught with a two-handed weapon and only one usable hand was a predictable enough scenario he'd trained for it. He still avoided hitting anyone with the sharp speartip; he was still aware that this was not the arena, and he wasn't aiming to kill anyone. If it got to the point he was genuinely worried for his life, his priorities might shift, but for now, he was indeed aiming to help.
"Head for the guards. They'll get you water," he informed Koko. He wasn't sure that was true, but it probably was, and more importantly it should be sufficient motivation not to succumb to the heat for another few moments. As soon as the other was no longer entirely leaning on him, he took a proper grip on the spear again, keeping his momentary charge barely in his peripheral vision as they headed back towards the nearest guard. He might never have been trained as a bodyguard, but he'd stood over an injured friend in a melee more than once, and once upon a time he'd trained to cover the next man over in a shield wall; moving in step with someone and expanding his circle of defense wasn't terribly hard. The fact he looked like he knew what he was doing and he was one of the only ones armed, and no-one had any reason to target them specifically, made it that much easier.
Sharp eyes picked out other victims as easily as other threats, and he left the musician to stumble the last few steps on her own as he slipped back into the crowd to go rescue a woman trying to defend both her small child and her water jar.
Lesley rolled his shoulder, unconsciously making sure his joints were still working properly, when Leonidas seemed to have gotten convinced he wasn't either rabid or about to bolt, and gave Rafail a look that held no trace of the respect he'd given the lordling's brother. "Yes, well, you certainly don't need any help in that regard." Once again, the gladiator didn't even have the courtesy to keep his comment to a surly mutter, speaking as confidently as if he had every right to criticize the younger Marikas.
Honestly, what was the little pansy going to do? Hit him? Lesley smirked to himself as he let his eyes roam over the crowd. Things were heating up, something was prickling between his shoulderblades, and he shifted his weight, rolling up onto the balls of his feet again. The little pockets of anger in the crowd had been there all day, like swirling eddies momentarily appearing and smoothing out again in the slow-moving stream of people walking past. So far nothing as serious as the fight he'd just gotten in, but he could practically feel the mood of the crowd shifting... and then it reached the tipping point. Some of the guards moved, trying to contain it, but it was like the first tumbling pebbles of an avalanche now. There was no point trying to catch the rocks you could already see moving, even if you could; the only thing now for a sensible person to do was to get themselves out of the way as well as they could.
"Right, then," he informed the commander crisply. "Happy to help. Keep a safe cordon for the ladies to hide behind will you?" The tilt of his head may have been simply to confirm that it was a question, and not a presumptuous order - but it also happened to just be in Rafail's direction, and his eyes flicked that way too, just for a moment. Anticipation of another fight held far more of his attention than any opportunity for sass towards Pavlos's very annoying baby brother, though; it was simply habit, and the tiny smirk grew into an anticipatory smile too quickly to prove it was ever there.
He turned away with a quick stride, already assessing the entire situation and everyone nearby, and noticed which soldier was the most off-balance by the turn of events as easily as he noticed who was about to be drawn in to the growing melee. "Excuse me, I'll need this, thank you." He spun the spear he'd just commandeered like a staff, and snapped the butt into the side of a man who'd just deliberately shoved a young boy to the ground. "None of that, now." The boy scrambled to his feet with a look that suggested he wasn't going to get caught unawares a second time, and Les flashed him a grin and moved on.
Someone stumbled, and Les shifted and caught them neatly. A woman, he noticed as his arm wrapped around her torso, but it wasn't someone he recognized as a fighter, and so he didn't bother trying to place the slightly familiar face. With the spear nestled into the crook of his arm rather than balanced in two hands, it was awkward to beat off the man who swung at him a moment later, but he made it look smooth anyway. Lesley was nothing if not a showman, and getting caught with a two-handed weapon and only one usable hand was a predictable enough scenario he'd trained for it. He still avoided hitting anyone with the sharp speartip; he was still aware that this was not the arena, and he wasn't aiming to kill anyone. If it got to the point he was genuinely worried for his life, his priorities might shift, but for now, he was indeed aiming to help.
"Head for the guards. They'll get you water," he informed Koko. He wasn't sure that was true, but it probably was, and more importantly it should be sufficient motivation not to succumb to the heat for another few moments. As soon as the other was no longer entirely leaning on him, he took a proper grip on the spear again, keeping his momentary charge barely in his peripheral vision as they headed back towards the nearest guard. He might never have been trained as a bodyguard, but he'd stood over an injured friend in a melee more than once, and once upon a time he'd trained to cover the next man over in a shield wall; moving in step with someone and expanding his circle of defense wasn't terribly hard. The fact he looked like he knew what he was doing and he was one of the only ones armed, and no-one had any reason to target them specifically, made it that much easier.
Sharp eyes picked out other victims as easily as other threats, and he left the musician to stumble the last few steps on her own as he slipped back into the crowd to go rescue a woman trying to defend both her small child and her water jar.
Koko was completely drained. The heat had nearly taken over his entire body by now. He felt like he was melting, and he couldn’t even do anything about it but remain where he was. Koko thought that he could feel-no hear the sizzling of the ground underneath his head while he laid down. The outside noise got blocked by the ringing in his ears, which kept getting louder and louder. The scenery in front of him kept becoming blurry and then normal before black spots appeared within it. The cycle repeated over and over which made Koko feel quite nauseous. Koko hadn’t eaten anything in a while so the only thing he would throw up at the moment would be bile. It would make him even more tired, and extremely dehydrated to the point that he could die.
Koko then decided to close his eyes, squeezing them shut as hard as he could. He decided that he would no longer fight back but just wait for everything to pass. He had no more energy in him anymore...he may get critically hurt from getting trampled over but at least he could rest. Koko just needed sleep, he just needed a chance to regain his strength. If he thought hard enough, he could imagine that he was by a fire, a warm fire in the middle of winter. The heat was a good thing...it would lull him to sleep.
Koko then felt a stray foot step hard on his hand, which caused him to snap awake. He let out a pained gasp, inhaling the dust on the ground. This sent him into a coughing fit, the blonde woman shaking violently on the ground. In the distance, he saw many people now engaging in a fight...more than before. What had happened?? All Koko did was close his eyes for just a minute and now all hell was breaking loose. It was then that he heard someone say that there wasn’t enough water for everyone. No wonder everyone was fighting...
If there wasn’t enough water then how would they survive? Only the strongest and the fastest and maybe even the smartest would manage to get their share of water! There was no such thing as a ration anymore...if he didn’t get water he would just be pushed down to the side like everyone else and..die. Some people lived their life feasting while others just hid in the shadows, begging for scraps. Koko didn’t want to be the latter...he doubted that anyone wanted to be the latter.
Suddenly, Koko’s hallucination stopped all at once. He found himself in a man’s grip, the woman looking around confusingly before realizing that he had been saved. While he was no longer in a trance, he still was too tired to even try to realize that it was Lesley who had saved him. While the man’s words were a bit echoed to him, he nodded in understanding, giving him a respectful bow of his head. Once released, Koko proceeded to stumble as fast as he could through the crowd.
He could either steal or try to get his own jug of water..
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Koko was completely drained. The heat had nearly taken over his entire body by now. He felt like he was melting, and he couldn’t even do anything about it but remain where he was. Koko thought that he could feel-no hear the sizzling of the ground underneath his head while he laid down. The outside noise got blocked by the ringing in his ears, which kept getting louder and louder. The scenery in front of him kept becoming blurry and then normal before black spots appeared within it. The cycle repeated over and over which made Koko feel quite nauseous. Koko hadn’t eaten anything in a while so the only thing he would throw up at the moment would be bile. It would make him even more tired, and extremely dehydrated to the point that he could die.
Koko then decided to close his eyes, squeezing them shut as hard as he could. He decided that he would no longer fight back but just wait for everything to pass. He had no more energy in him anymore...he may get critically hurt from getting trampled over but at least he could rest. Koko just needed sleep, he just needed a chance to regain his strength. If he thought hard enough, he could imagine that he was by a fire, a warm fire in the middle of winter. The heat was a good thing...it would lull him to sleep.
Koko then felt a stray foot step hard on his hand, which caused him to snap awake. He let out a pained gasp, inhaling the dust on the ground. This sent him into a coughing fit, the blonde woman shaking violently on the ground. In the distance, he saw many people now engaging in a fight...more than before. What had happened?? All Koko did was close his eyes for just a minute and now all hell was breaking loose. It was then that he heard someone say that there wasn’t enough water for everyone. No wonder everyone was fighting...
If there wasn’t enough water then how would they survive? Only the strongest and the fastest and maybe even the smartest would manage to get their share of water! There was no such thing as a ration anymore...if he didn’t get water he would just be pushed down to the side like everyone else and..die. Some people lived their life feasting while others just hid in the shadows, begging for scraps. Koko didn’t want to be the latter...he doubted that anyone wanted to be the latter.
Suddenly, Koko’s hallucination stopped all at once. He found himself in a man’s grip, the woman looking around confusingly before realizing that he had been saved. While he was no longer in a trance, he still was too tired to even try to realize that it was Lesley who had saved him. While the man’s words were a bit echoed to him, he nodded in understanding, giving him a respectful bow of his head. Once released, Koko proceeded to stumble as fast as he could through the crowd.
He could either steal or try to get his own jug of water..
Koko was completely drained. The heat had nearly taken over his entire body by now. He felt like he was melting, and he couldn’t even do anything about it but remain where he was. Koko thought that he could feel-no hear the sizzling of the ground underneath his head while he laid down. The outside noise got blocked by the ringing in his ears, which kept getting louder and louder. The scenery in front of him kept becoming blurry and then normal before black spots appeared within it. The cycle repeated over and over which made Koko feel quite nauseous. Koko hadn’t eaten anything in a while so the only thing he would throw up at the moment would be bile. It would make him even more tired, and extremely dehydrated to the point that he could die.
Koko then decided to close his eyes, squeezing them shut as hard as he could. He decided that he would no longer fight back but just wait for everything to pass. He had no more energy in him anymore...he may get critically hurt from getting trampled over but at least he could rest. Koko just needed sleep, he just needed a chance to regain his strength. If he thought hard enough, he could imagine that he was by a fire, a warm fire in the middle of winter. The heat was a good thing...it would lull him to sleep.
Koko then felt a stray foot step hard on his hand, which caused him to snap awake. He let out a pained gasp, inhaling the dust on the ground. This sent him into a coughing fit, the blonde woman shaking violently on the ground. In the distance, he saw many people now engaging in a fight...more than before. What had happened?? All Koko did was close his eyes for just a minute and now all hell was breaking loose. It was then that he heard someone say that there wasn’t enough water for everyone. No wonder everyone was fighting...
If there wasn’t enough water then how would they survive? Only the strongest and the fastest and maybe even the smartest would manage to get their share of water! There was no such thing as a ration anymore...if he didn’t get water he would just be pushed down to the side like everyone else and..die. Some people lived their life feasting while others just hid in the shadows, begging for scraps. Koko didn’t want to be the latter...he doubted that anyone wanted to be the latter.
Suddenly, Koko’s hallucination stopped all at once. He found himself in a man’s grip, the woman looking around confusingly before realizing that he had been saved. While he was no longer in a trance, he still was too tired to even try to realize that it was Lesley who had saved him. While the man’s words were a bit echoed to him, he nodded in understanding, giving him a respectful bow of his head. Once released, Koko proceeded to stumble as fast as he could through the crowd.
He could either steal or try to get his own jug of water..