#felucidarius

[felucidarius-wra]

Prayer

Felucidarius had kept to himself as the deaths increased. He must have already been exposed, as he fell ill with the strange sickness. After that, he wouldn’t leave the infirmary. He tried to sleep through it, silently praying each day for a cure to be found. Use of the Light only caused excruciating pain, so he and the other infected had to wait it out.

He was never too keen on prayer, nevertheless, his were answered. Light was the cure, and the pain it caused was the infection being burned away. Felucidarius vaguely recalled hearing how many did not survive the procedure. It didn’t phase him that he might not make it. He had begged the Light for a cure and it was being offered to him.

The curing process was all a blur in his memory. He spent the entire time- he wasn’t sure if it was minutes or hours- teetering on the edge of consciousness.

Three days later, he was still exhausted. Despite being able to actually sleep, a full night’s rest did not feel enough. But Felucidarius was eager to be out and about again. He found happiness in Fairhaven that he’d not felt in years. The young Duchess Loala inspired him to have purpose. His new friends- Darien, Ollie, and many others in Fairhaven- brought him out of his recent lone wolf mentality. And he’d met his dear Grayson, with whom he felt confident and whole. That night at the Violet Tap, surrounded by good company, he leaned his head on Grayson’s shoulder and thought- not thought, prayed- 

Let me do right by my new family.

((mentions: @littlelady-lo @graysonaddington @olliehaldstan @darienturilson @addington-wra))

[olliehaldstan]

Tavern Night Attendees!

Most people I’ve had come so far! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

@northhaven-wra @auroryn-dawnsworn @darienturilson @starlight-wra @felucidarius-wra @meadows-duchess @littleduchess

[felucidarius-wra]

And Then Came The Dawn

Morning came at last. Felucidarius was unable to get much sleep after the nightmare. The rising sun peaked around the curtains of his room as he dressed himself. A morning stroll should do me some good, he thought. Clear my head and forget last night. 

As Felucidarius walked about the small village within Evermoore, he witnessed many of the residents gathering outside their homes, speaking in hushed tones. The expressions upon their faces were grave, and some of the folk were so fearful their hands trembled as they spoke. Felucidarius approached one group.

“Are you alright? Has somethin’ happened here?” At first no one answered him.

At last, one older gentleman spoke, “All our homes have been vandalized in the night. It’s just the same, old writings, over and over. None of us know what it means.”

“And the dreams,” a girl, maybe fifteen years of age, said suddenly. “I had a strange dream last night, and I thought nothing of it until my little brother awoke, crying. He had a nightmare, and he described it to me. It- it was the same as mine.”

“What happened in this nightmare,” Felucidarius asked.

“Same as the rest of us,” the first man to speak replied, “Nothing but snow, then a tree and a woman, and the woman looked- I dun’no- wrong.”

Felucidarius was visibly pale now. He began this walk hoping to put the dream far from his mind. Whatever this was, it was far from over.

(mentions: @littlelady-lo, @nicolaos-wra)

[felucidarius-wra]

about —

Name: Felucidarius

Age: 27

Birthday: July 9

Race: Afflicted Gilnean

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay

Marital Status: Single

physical appearance —

Hair: Red

Eyes: Blue

Height: 5'11"

Build: Lean

Distinguishing Marks: Freckles all over his upper torso, yet not many on his face

Common Accessories: A top hat

personal —

Profession: Leatherworker, Outlaw

Hobbies: Long walks outdoors, bar crawls, picking people's brains (figuratively of course)

Languages: Common

Residence: Drifter

Birthplace: Gilneas

Religion: None

Patron Deity: None

Fears: prolonged solitude, floating eyes, giant bugs, abandonment, paralysis

relationships —

Spouse: None

Children: None 

Parents: Not important

Siblings: Not important

Acquaintances/Friends: The Addingtons, his fellow bannermen under the Addingtons

traits —

extroverted / introverted / [in between].

[disorganized] / organized / in between.

close minded / [open-minded] / in between.

calm / anxious / [in between].

disagreeable / [agreeable] / in between.

cautious / [reckless] / in between.

patient / [impatient] / in between.

[outspoken] / reserved / in between.

leader / follower / [in between].

[empathic] / unempathic / in between.

optimistic / pessimistic / [in between].

traditional / [modern] / in between.

hard-working / lazy / [in between].

cultured / uncultured / [in between].

[loyal] / disloyal / unknown / in between.

[faithful] / unfaithful / unknown / in between.

[felucidarius-wra]

Ever the Pessimist

Felucidarius was not comforted by the news of Lena’s arrest. His gut feeling told him she wasn’t the culprit. However, he didn’t know the woman, and couldn’t even recalled a formal introduction with her. It must have been his usual paranoia. It’s not over yet, the far corners of his mind insisted. That was too convenient, too easy. He reminded himself of the tragedies that already occurred, and that his suspicion should not downplay them. So much happened, and perhaps now we’ll get to the bottom of it.

But it was hard for Felucidarius to not be so paranoid. You were right though, he thought. The others believed it was over before. A memorial and a feast were held, and you stayed back because you knew it would get worse. You knew better than to hope, and you still know better.

He passed a hand over his face, trying not to give in to pessimism. Maybe if he shared his thoughts with the others, he wouldn’t feel so helpless. These were his friends, and the family he pledged his banner to. He shouldn’t keep to himself so much. If his paranoia proved irrational, they could perhaps teach him to have hope. And if his instincts were correct, he could at least be the word of caution.

(mentions: @littlelady-lo, @nicolaos-wra)

[felucidarius-wra]

Rather Unsettling

First it was dark and empty, save for the snowfall, and Felucidarius felt rising panic as he realized he was alone. Then there was the willow tree and the woman. Although he was no longer alone, Felucidarius was cautious. He approached. The woman moved her hood, and his momentary curiosity became pure dread. The only word he could think to describe her was insidious.

Felucidarius awoke in the guest room, adrenaline coursing through him. Just a nightmare, he wanted to tell himself. But that woman’s grin, everything about her actually... if malice was tangible she was dripping with it. She was off, wrong, and Felucidarius felt wrong as well just having seen her. But she’s not real, he thinks.

Felucidarius stands and walks to his backpack on the floor. He rummages through and pulls out a flask of Rumsey Rum. After taking a long swig, he returns to the bed and waits for sleep to find him again.

(mentions: @littlelady-lo, @nicolaos-wra)

[felucidarius-wra]

Too Good to Be True

He didn’t know what to think. His heart wanted to embrace the hope that everything would return to normal. His mind told him it was a false sense of security. Whoever committed the murders, and left the writing upon the walls, could not be finished. Felucidarius dared to imagine the culprit was purposely holding off. They wanted the residents of Evermoore to believe that was the worst of it.

Felucidarius had been called paranoid on several past occasions. He never let it trouble him. It was better to prepare for the worst and be pleasantly surprised if nothing happens.

He eyed the opened letter on his desk. I will have to decline Lady Addington’s invitation, he thinks to himself. The one responsible for these incidents may try to take advantage of everyone being at the memorial. I’ll remain at the manor and watch for anyone lurking about. Light, I do sound paranoid. Please let me just be paranoid.

(mentions: @littlelady-lo, @nicolaos-wra)

[felucidarius-wra]

((Just a drawing of Felucidarius))