Ode to Death (Sydney)

Sydney is administered into the Cicerone

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The Citadel of the Dead Queen, Black Rock is the island off of the eastern coast of Falyndar. Mythic and mysterious, few know what truly inhabits it. [Lore]

Ode to Death (Sydney)

Postby Traverse on October 9th, 2014, 9:49 pm

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Ode to Death
15th of Fall, A.V.


A woman stood upon a rocky crag that jutted out over the Western Bay of Black Rock. An errant breeze drove the sprinkling rain into her face, spattering on already soaked black cloak. A bit down from the crag lay a Fargholian cow, content to wait patiently chewing her cud, gazing out into nothingness as she chomped the regurgitated food.

Lelia Harth was an experienced Cicerone and good at what she did. Though she loved Black Rock, its Ghosts, and its People, so too did she enjoy these peaceful moments, when she could simply listen to the rhythm of the island. Her eyes closed, a tuft of blonde hair appearing from under her hood to whip about in her face.

The moment was broken when the sound of steps navigating slippery rocks fell upon her ears. Hazel eyes opened and a small smile came to her face as she turned with a flourish to meet the newcomer, whom she knew was a prospective to the ranks of the Cicerone. The fine white inside of her cloak revealed that she possessed a title above Cicerone among the group of Spiritists roaming the Isle, and a posed confidence in her posture suggested that this title, whatever it may be, had been well earned.

"Sydney Turnstone was it?" She smiled more broadly, not needing the answer to the question, and took a few lightsteps to draw closer to the him. With the mild rain falling upon them this morning, Lelia couldn't immediately identify the scales Sydney possessed, but she did notice his broad musculature and stocky stature. She tilted her body as if she was dedicating every muscle to help her size up this new candidate.

"I see a strong young man before me, that could use some purpose in his life. Why do you wish to become a Cicerone, Sydney?"
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Ode to Death (Sydney)

Postby Sydney Turnstone on October 10th, 2014, 3:15 am


Sydney was drenched. He was dressed simply, a long cotton shirt and simple pants, some sturdy leather shoes. He'd left home in a rush, not really taking in consideration the weather -- then again, Evelin, his mother, had always chided him for being too quick to think anything through.

"Compulsive idiot," he smirked. "That's what she'll say when I get back." Sydney hadn't bothered to wake her up, he'd only just started his breakfast when he noticed the letter. He'd practically killed himself jumping over the table to get at it, Sydney had been waiting for something of the like ever since he sent in his applications to the Administration Office.

His shoes squeaked against the wet rock, or squelched loudly, announcing when he misstepped in the mud. Sydney grimaced as he pulled his shoe out quickly -- too quickly -- and the wet earth pulled back on the shoe, his foot unwillingly slipping out. "Petch," he muttered, sitting down as he struggled to pull the shoe, a loud slurping noise signaling his success.

Sydney wondered if he'd get new clothes. The Cicerone were always walking around with their cloaks, and despite his interest in the profession and the Cicernone themselves, he hadn't taken much time to think about their clothes. Surely, though, they couldn't expect him to wander about the island in what he was wearing now -- even with the cloak.

Something to ask about either way, he decided as he cluncked his shoe against a wet slab of granite. He let out a sigh as the mud stubbornly held onto the leather. "I suppose I'll need to wash these, then. And everything else I'm wearing."

The mixed blood slipped his shoe back on, and despite it all, still managed a smile. Rain or not, wet or dry, dirty or clean, today would be the day he'd finally get a cloak of his own, a Fargholian, and a purpose.

Or at least a paycheck.

He climbed the rest of the easily. Sydney made sure to step from rock to rock, careful to avoid any areas that seemed particularly muddy. Luckily, the higher he got, the more rockier the area seemed to get.

"Yea, Sydney Turnstone. And you're, uh, Leila Harth, right?" He smiled easily, even eagerly. He couldn't make out her form much, and she hadn't describe herself much in the letter, aside a name -- Leila Harth -- but she'd given him a location, and he easily supposed she was her, if only because there weren't any other Cicerone on the hill top that morning. Even still, the cloak muddled her figure, which he supposed athletic considering her lifestyle.

He did catch the tuff of blonde hair that escaped her covered head, though.

"To help, mostly. I mean, that what you guys do, right? Keep everyone from fighting, making Black Rock a better place to live and all of that good stuff." His tone was confident, he stared straight, and he was eager to start. "I guess i've always wanted to get to know the island a bit better, too. I've really only spent time at the docks."

His stomach growled. Loudly.

"Sorry, uh I...I kind of left in a hurry," he bit his lip nervously, a small awkward laugh escaping him. "I forgot to grab something to eat."
"
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Ode to Death (Sydney)

Postby Traverse on October 11th, 2014, 11:21 pm

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"To help..." She said mimicking Sydney's answer to her question. She flipped the hood back, revealing a narrow face and those scrutinizing eyes. "I suppose a lot of what we do is help, and each Cicerone can help in their own unique way. The Office said you possessed all of the skills required to become a Cicerone, so you must know your way around Spiritism...as well as animals and the island." She smiled and stepped down, scratched behind her cow's head, a dark damp nose pressing against her wet clothes. Reaching into a pack she withdrew a heel of bread and a bit of cheese, presumably made from her cow.

"Here, we do not ask much of a prospective Cicerone, but we will have a long day, nevertheless." Once Sydney had finished with the snack she handed him a rough, black wool cloak that was relatively dry, though not for much longer if the rain was going to persist. She gently urged her Farg into a standing position, and then let the cow lead the way down a trail that would allow them to safely, if a bit slowly, spiral down from the peak of the island.

"Tell me what you know of the Cicerone and their duties, also about your spiritism skills, have you dealt with a ghost or ghosts before?" Where the path allowed Leila would keep pace with Sydney, darting ahead when it was too narrow.
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Ode to Death (Sydney)

Postby Sydney Turnstone on October 20th, 2014, 4:41 am


Sydney blushed, mumbling a quick 'thanks' as he grabbed the heel of bread and cheese. He hadn't meant to leave in such a rush, and he definitely hadn't meant to skip breakfast; but Sydney hadn't been thinking of what he should've been doing - instead, the young mix-blood was far more concerned with what he would be doing, what he would need to do to prove he could stand equally among the Cicerone.

"I knew I shodda'f ate somethin' -- I mean, I's hungry, before I left. I only got yer letter this morning.," He shrugged his way through the excuse. Lelia hadn't asked for one, but Sydney figured she deserved one. At least for the food. "Anyway, I know a bit an' a half about ghosts. They're not so common out by the docks, not like by the city, y'know? Mostly Svefra an' some regular sailors.," he paused, flushed, realizing he was running off the point. He tore off some of the bread and cheese, shoving into his mouth, giving him a second to think. "I've dealt with some ghosts, though. I've been possessed some, and when I was littler, there're some ghost that come by the docks regular-like, and I got one of them to show me to make m'own soulmist. Uh, well, not show me, 'cause they can't make it like we do, can they? She just sorta told me, s'all."

Sydney's cheeks burned as his stomach growled, the man barely managing through a quick ''scuse me'' before stuffing his face with the rest of the food. He knew his mother would kill him, she'd taught him how to eat properly -- but he was starving, and he needed to do something to keep his mouth from running off. He needed time to think, he only had one chance to impress Leila.

"An' I know parts of the isle, too, y'know. I grew up by the docks an' everything, so I know the shore well enough. An' some of them marshes, too." Sydney nodded, "I, uh, well, if'n I'm to be honest, I don't know the animals to well. I know which ones to avoid, like, which ones are friendly an' everythin'," he chewed his lip nervously. He knew the Cicerone traveled with cows, but he hadn't guessed he would have to know all of the wild life of Black Rock. "M' ma never wanted any pets, so...but I've helped when they bring animals back for trade and stuff. Like from the jungle, or from that place with the blue, bug guys? Waterfall?."

Shyke. He was rambling.

"Uh, is there anything else I can answer fer ya, Ms. Harth?"

Was that too polite? Shyke. He stood there awkwardly, eating that last bit of cheese and bread in silence. Hopefully he hadn't rambled too much.

OOCSORRY about the wait, haha. Also about the way he's talking. Still trying to figure out this character, lol.
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Ode to Death (Sydney)

Postby Traverse on October 23rd, 2014, 3:18 pm

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Their progress was tracked by the surefooted clopping of Harth's Farg, leading the way down a path she had traveled countless times. Lelia kept a bit back, so as best to hear Sydney, her mouth turning up slightly at the nervousness of the prospective Cicerone. To his excuses she simply gave a polite smile, letting him explain himself to her queries.

"It is hard not to get experience with our Ghost companions on Black Rock, but it sounds like you have had more encounters than some that wish to join our ranks. This is good."

The rain began to lessen somewhat as they spiraled downward, after Syndey was finished Lelia gave a shrug. "My job as an Escort is to talk quite a lot, to the living and dead in equal measure, but I cannot say as I have many more questions for your Sydney, what I will need to see is your actions. By chance did you bring any soulmist with you today?"

Regardless of his answer, the Farg led Lelia and Sydney off the main spiral from the peak of the island down a much narrower path that led to some of the homes seated in the face of the mountain, marked by various shades of fading paint or harsh metal doors. The entrance they stopped at was a light grey metal door, with a box of vines off to the side, sprouting purple and red flowers, and probably the closest thing one could get to a regular window box of flowers on the island. The cow moved off to a side and settled herself down in the path, obviously used to this behavior and Lelia led them indoors.

It was a neatly carved, but small space. Not that Cicerone's needed a large space, as their work took them all over the island, and didn't give much time for relaxing at home. It was actually quite clear that this was the same with Lelia as well. Nearly everything, including the small bed nestled into a corner of the roughly square space had a thin layer of dust that coated everything, everything, except a long table that fit into a wall, which had all the tools and utensils needed for making soulmist.

oocYou have the option of making soulmist here, Lelia has everything Sydney needs, except obviously his own blood, if you think Sydney had some with him, then she'll just pick up a few supplies and they'll be on their way :)
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