One Man’s Trash… (Open)

[Caiden Quinn]

caiden quinn Timestamp: 24th of Spring, 512 AV The sun glanced off the spine of rocky rubble in an eerie marine light, hesitant to touch the surface of the ruins. The wind had died down indeed, if not died away completely. The air hung stagnant, holding with it the vile stench of rotting, festering death. It was subtle, though, muffled by layers of dense stone slabs and collapsed structures. The world was suddenly a distorted, twisted, broken, shapeless mass. To most, a disaster. To Caiden Quinn, an opportunity. The boy had managed to salvage his most prized possessions, sloppily packing layers of papers into a leather pack, along with a few tools for drawing and crafting. He willingly retreated into the catacombs, resurfacing to a new dystopian world. It was such a dramatic overhaul of everything that he had known before that the sheer shock seemed to breeze high above him, allowing him to settle into an odd and almost unnatural state of peace. He admitted to himself that this was wrong, but it was such a wonderful and foreign sensation that he refused to release it from his grasp. Instead, he build up a tent out of salvaged materials, setting up his home among the thousands of other homeless outside the city walls, venturing in daily to help make reparations. Today, he would traverse the eastern residential district in search of possible survivors, though it was unlikely. More than three weeks the city had been in shambles, so he doubted he would find anyone, apart form the occasional Syliran Knight or overseer of reparations. That left him and his faithful companion Sargent very much alone with plenty of scraps to salvage. In the crisp air of the morning, Caiden strapped on a nearly empty pack, hiking through the fields into the fragmented city. Trotting at his side, happy as ever, was his massive dog. Sargent was obviously glad to once again be out in the air after two weeks of confinement in the caverns below. He weaved to and fro in the narrow path, massive head bobbing this way and that, floppy ears lifting at the sound of the occasional bird chirping overhead. He was not a smart beast, but a loyal companion. On these expeditions, he was also helpful in digging up things if interest. It took no less than two hours to make his way through the densely crowded street before the main gate. The sun soon beat down through unnatural, humid air. Refugees crowded the street, being directed here or there by frazzled guards. Caiden weaseled his way to the front of the lines, stating that he was a volunteer. Some seemed skeptical, but admitted him into the city regardless. Soon, he was free to explore, clambering over carcasses of structures strewn in all directions.

[Caiden Quinn]

caiden quinn Heaving a rugged sandstone boulder upright, Caiden tossed it aside with a great effort, hissing as he retracted his hands. They were much more rough than only a week ago, covered with whited calluses, cuts, and blisters. Flexing his fingers, he examined his palms closely, then dropping his hands to his sides, eyes drifting over the heap of rubble before him. It had once been some bustling place, soaking up the life and light of passersby. Who could have imagined it would turn out like this? Decrepit. Dead. Although Caiden had found his own silver lining, millions of others suffered tragic losses, uprooted from their homes, divided from their families, torn asunder from the lives that they once knew. It was a new beginning, for everyone. A clean slate, so to speak, for those who needed it. A test of perseverance for those who didn't. A few hours later, and his pack was almost full of twisted wires, torn bits of fabric, warped pieces of wood, bent metal. Nothing that would be missed, but to him, they were treasures. He smiled to himself as he stood to hesitate in his work, wiping sweat from his brow. Memories of his childhood flooded his thoughts; the images of the things he built and the people he encouraged. If only it were so simple now. But perhaps he could make a different. Perhaps... But no. No, he couldn't be found, not now. It was the perfect opportunity, in the wake of a tragedy. No one knew him. He was a stranger in his own home, to his benefit. Nobody would know his past, his connections. His friends. He was a mystery. He had considered it for a long time, while lying in his bed, staring up absently at the ceiling. That day was still ringing clear in his mind. He could still hear his friends ragged breath. The blood stains felt cold on his hands... The indignant rage that swallowed up all sadness. Now, Caiden could feel it all. He bit his tongue, however, forcing the wave of anger to subside into a calm determination, as it had laid dormant since that day. It would have its time, but not now... Now, he needed clarity. Precision. Focus. He returned to his work, thoughts straying to and fro, bouncing off ideas, memories, and awareness of the day. Sarge lay nearby, nestled in the road where the fewest bits of rubble had been cleared away by his master. He basked in the sunlight for quite some time, but occasionally would scamper to his feet and trot to Caiden's side, seeking attention. Caiden stopped working each time, kneeling and roughly scratching the dog's head. The day dragged on, and the crisp of the morning shifted into a humid heat. A sharp whine alerted Caiden, who glanced up at the sound. Sarge sat in the open road with a pleading look, tongue hanging to one side, giant jaw gaping. Rolling his eyes, Caiden frowned at his companion. "Alright, fine." He hissed in a playful tone, snatching up his pack as Sargent leaped to his feet, dancing circles around his master. A short water break wouldn't set him back too far...

[Xalet]

"This right here? This is bullshit." Xuphim grumbled to himself. Thirty years of sitting in the passenger seat when finally Xalet had come to his senses and allowed the other half his chance at freedom. His chance to experience control and revel in the glory of the world, and what happened? The world almost ended a second time. What kind of luck was that? It got better too. Not only had the world be driven into the ground by a Djed fueled sucker punch but Xuphim was tasked with manual labor. Where was all the ass-kicking Xalet got to do? All the fighting and the shooting and the women dressed down to nothing letting their intricate lounge about while wading inside of the public bath?

A wide beam of wood sat across the Akalak's broad shoulders, slightly curved upward at it's ends, creaking softly with each step. Upon the beam sat some half a dozen massive buckets of water. One look at the man whom normally donned his armor but now stood shirtless given the state of the city and it was clear why he was chosen for this job. Even amongst Akalaks his frame and muscular build was uncanny. It could very well be that there was not another man in the city with the physical strength to match. Some carried magery with them, including the power of Flux, but Djed gave out eventually. Xuphim was only limited by his own endurance, which was formidable considering a decade and a half of daily training for Knighthood, including a strict Body Building regimen with his Patron.

The crystalline liquid was fuel for the many that worked to recover what lie beneath some of the rubble within Syliras. Many considered the city fortunate, as an early warning and stoutly built walls kept most of the place in one piece. It was a boon that most shops and residences were built directly into the walls, considering those that weren't were totally obliterated.

Xuphim trudged his way toward the inner square of the main gate, the region with the most damage. Here and there thirsty Squires, Knights, Pages, and refugees looking to keep themselves fed by assisting in the reconstruction revitalized themselves by dipping tin or wooden carved cups into the buckets and drinking that cool fluid. "Gods damn it people take from both sides." the purple skinned Squire muttered as he adjusted his hefty carried load upon his shoulders, one side now becoming more encumbering than the other as a group nearly drained one of the buckets to his left.

The people kept working and Xuphim kept walking. All around him he looked for something to rest his eyes on. A scantly dress maiden glistening in the sun perhaps. The only things he found were sweaty men covered in stone dust and dirt.

[Caiden Quinn]

caiden quinn Caiden trekked toward the inner circle of the city, where he assumed other workers might be. At one point in time, he'd heard rumor of a well being built, though he doubted it would be complete by this point. Still, where people were, there was bound to be water. Hopping over overturned stone, clambering over fallen trees and weaving through the wreckage, Caiden found his way to a group of workers. His gaze trailed over each one of them, analyzing from the shade of a wall that stood loosely over a crumbling foundation. A moment's hesitation, and he forced himself forward, unconsciously tugging the straps on his pack higher on his shoulders. They were mostly men, varying in race and age, but all rather alike in stature. Though Caiden was plenty strong, his gangly appearance hid it well. He was taller than most men, but not nearly as dense. However, he strode forth confidently, seemingly unaware of those around him. A man pacing about the area caught his attention. He was... Purple... A strange complexion that Caiden had never seen. Perhaps a skin condition? Or a disease? No... No perhaps, he had seen something like it before. Strange folk passed through Syliras all the time. When he was at the orphanage, he would spot these people, examine them, curiosity compelling him to analyze. Akalak was the name. It came to him suddenly. Not so strange, but definitely one of the rarer of races. Stretched across the man's shoulders lay a long board, laden with buckets. Debris? No. Water, to be sure. Making his way over to the hulking indigo man, Caiden glanced over the buckets, taking note of the certain imbalance. He was at the man's back, most likely unnoticed. Reaching forward, he easily lifted a bucket from the heavier side with a muted " 'scuse me", setting it on the ground. It sloshed out somewhat, speckling the dirt. Sargent pranced up and bent his head, lapping at the water. Caiden knelt beside his companion, eyes darting up at the man before him, curious. He cupping his hands together, scooping water onto his face. The man looked frustrated, and Caiden almost hoped to remain unnoticed. Though he seemed a fascination creature, the young human would probably only frustrate him more...

[Xalet]

It was a good thing Caiden had knelt shortly after removing the bucket in order to drink from its liquidy bounty as a moment after Xuphim felt the weight suddenly shift he swung in a half circle. A few other men that had most recently gotten themselves re-hydrated had to duck or backstep quickly, although one gentleman wasn't quite quick enough, although he managed to bring his hand up in time to shield his face from the brunt of the wooden beam.

"Hey!" the man began, but he was met with a scowl from Xuphim and what sounded like a growl. Having gotten what he came for, the man decided against going any further and slapped his free hand through the air in the direction of the Akalak, as if to gesture that the Akalak wasn't worth it.

Xuphim on the other hand glanced downward and noticed that a young man was drinking from one of his buckets, as well as...a dog? "What do you think you're doing?" as he spoke, his voice was more like a grunt. His black hair had grown a bit longer than he was accustomed to during his time underground, and it's stringy length was plastered all about his cheeks and down the back of his neck, sopping with sweat. With a great push he heaved the beam over his head so that it rested upon his palms and against his chest. With another motion he bent his knees and rested it down upon the ground with a wooden 'thunk', the several buckets clamoring and back-splashing over the sides.

Yanking the bucket away from the hound Xuphim was quick to point out, "This water's for workers only, not animals. Sergeant's orders or its my ass. And I'm not going to let it be my ass, got it?" There was nothing about the Akalak that would have suggested he was a squire. Given the situation around Syliras he wasn't wearing his tabard or his armor, and with Xalet in recession for the season his demeanor certainly wasn't elegant or chivalrous. Looking down at the bucket he could see the soft swirls of canine saliva, "Damn it, now it's all tainted..." he said. One could tell he was about to let out a string of curses, but instead he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, releasing the bucket and letting it drop back down in front of Sargent and Caiden. Xuphim couldn't tell if he was getting soft, or if the more complete he and Xalet made their Akalak body, the more his personality was intermingling with Xalet's.

"Well, it's all messed up now anyway, so you might as well finish it if you're ok drinkin' with a beast." he commented, pulling free a towel that had been hanging from his waistband before running it through his hair and slicking those greasy locks back with it. "What's in the bag anyway? You ain't a looter, are ya? I had to break some legs a few days back, on a count of looters. Also the Sergeant's orders." that last part had been a lie, the Sergeant would never have allowed such a thing, but Xuphim didn't like people that could run faster than him.

[Miranda]

Miranda stood back, watching as the citizens of Syliras help to rebuild the various buildings that had been destroyed. She stood back from everyone else, watching as men and even a few of the more sturdy women moved rubble and waste away from the carcass of the building. Miranda felt useless. She wanted to help, but she wasn't nearly strong enough. Sighing she glanced down at her bag, filled with all of her herbs and bandages. At least if someone becomes injured I’ll be able to help them... she thought sadly. Looking up her eyes fixed on two men. One was bent next to a bucket, a dog drinking from it next to him and the other was standing before him. There were quite a few buckets before them, a wooden beam through their handles to carry them by. Perking up Miranda bit her lip. I can carry a few buckets... Smiling she picked up her bag, slid the strap over her shoulder and pushed off of the wall she had been leaning on, walking towards the two men. She tried not to stare at the man that was standing. Purple skin...? She had never seen anything like it before, and he was shirtless, making her even more bashful. Turning her eyes on the other man she realized that he was younger than she had at first assumed, probably in his late teens. Lastly she looked at the dog. It was a large beast and his large jaws were dripping with water and long strings of saliva as he slobbered into the bucket.

[Templar]

Caiden: Body Building: 1 Lore: Appearance of Akalaks Xalet: Body Building: 2 – Intimidation: 1 Lore: Duty is not always Glamorous and Dignified Miranda: -:- Lore: -:- Additional notes: … Living in Syliras and never seen an Akalak before Xalet/Xuphim walks around half-naked? ... Extremely unlikely since 5% of the city population is purple (Akalak). Anyhow, any problems, feel free to PM me.