Ethlyn, Princess of Leonster (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
baldrshand) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
expiationlogs2024-04-10 12:19 pm
baldrshand) wrote in expiationlogs2024-04-10 12:19 pm
The pieces of April
Who: Ethlyn and thee (prior to snek plague)
Where: Various places in Aldrip
What: Local(?) woman is confused and irritated about it
Warnings: None!
1. Healer, get thyself together
[It was strange enough waking up in a house that seemed to be made of squares and triangles, all white with steel appliances on the inside. But what's even more unsettling is what Ethlyn sees when she returns to the familiar grounds of the Willow Clinic. Why? Because they are familiar. It's as though someone picked up the farmhouse and the gardens around it, willow and all, and plopped it down in the middle of a modern city block.
There’s a shelf full of medical books and every book is full of ribbons. She can almost remember putting them there.]
I was a healer… [she closes her eyes.] I am a healer. That’s right. I know what these are. [She takes another look at a ribboned page and falls into a mutter.] Actually, I’m not so sure about the jejunum... that sounds like some foreign fruit.
[Wait. Wait that was the bell over the door.]
Oh! Hello, sorry!
2. Memories, rising from the pavement
[Deirdre. Sigurd. Leonster. Thracia.
She’s sitting at a table in the public library with a notebook and loose leaves scattered around her, trying to sort out which is which. On one page is a sketch of a sword, and a list of names–to a casual glance by a modern person, all looking like they’re about 800 years old. She’s trying to identify them. “Quan = husband” is one entry. The rest are covered with smudges and the tapping of a pen.
Finally she sighs and leans back in her chair, pushing her hands through her hair.]
What a coward I’ve been.
3. We want YOU
[Well. Whether or not she is Ethlyn the busy widow or Ethlyn the lady and battlefield healer, the Arztenritter exists and needs to be rebuilt. Right now it’s herself, Marianne, Emet-selch, and Minato… she’s… pretty sure. She isn’t entirely.
But she’s out and about around the city, on a horse named Venture, with a load of rolled-up posters in her saddlebag. Whenever she spots the outside of a likely-looking building, she’ll hop off with a hammer and nails and starts putting it up.
She found the posters in the storage closet of the clinic. Possibly they were made by someone with a passion for graphic design.]
Right. This ought to be eye-catching enough.
4. Wildcard
[If none of these suit, feel free to make up your own or plot something out with me! I'm in game disco, on plurk at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
compassinks, or open to PMs.]
Where: Various places in Aldrip
What: Local(?) woman is confused and irritated about it
Warnings: None!
1. Healer, get thyself together
[It was strange enough waking up in a house that seemed to be made of squares and triangles, all white with steel appliances on the inside. But what's even more unsettling is what Ethlyn sees when she returns to the familiar grounds of the Willow Clinic. Why? Because they are familiar. It's as though someone picked up the farmhouse and the gardens around it, willow and all, and plopped it down in the middle of a modern city block.
There’s a shelf full of medical books and every book is full of ribbons. She can almost remember putting them there.]
I was a healer… [she closes her eyes.] I am a healer. That’s right. I know what these are. [She takes another look at a ribboned page and falls into a mutter.] Actually, I’m not so sure about the jejunum... that sounds like some foreign fruit.
[Wait. Wait that was the bell over the door.]
Oh! Hello, sorry!
2. Memories, rising from the pavement
[Deirdre. Sigurd. Leonster. Thracia.
She’s sitting at a table in the public library with a notebook and loose leaves scattered around her, trying to sort out which is which. On one page is a sketch of a sword, and a list of names–to a casual glance by a modern person, all looking like they’re about 800 years old. She’s trying to identify them. “Quan = husband” is one entry. The rest are covered with smudges and the tapping of a pen.
Finally she sighs and leans back in her chair, pushing her hands through her hair.]
What a coward I’ve been.
3. We want YOU
[Well. Whether or not she is Ethlyn the busy widow or Ethlyn the lady and battlefield healer, the Arztenritter exists and needs to be rebuilt. Right now it’s herself, Marianne, Emet-selch, and Minato… she’s… pretty sure. She isn’t entirely.
But she’s out and about around the city, on a horse named Venture, with a load of rolled-up posters in her saddlebag. Whenever she spots the outside of a likely-looking building, she’ll hop off with a hammer and nails and starts putting it up.
She found the posters in the storage closet of the clinic. Possibly they were made by someone with a passion for graphic design.]
Right. This ought to be eye-catching enough.
4. Wildcard
[If none of these suit, feel free to make up your own or plot something out with me! I'm in game disco, on plurk at
no subject
For some doctors, but not for me.
I do it because it's my duty. [Just as it was her elder brother's duty to defend their family lands with his sword, it was hers to care for them with her staff.] We aren't in an active war zone here, but we are all in a bad situation together, so I'm still responsible for doing what I can to help people when my skills are needed.
no subject
Careful, someone could always take advantage of that, yanno? Good people don't stay good for long. [ a shrug of the shoulders. ] Whaddya mean by duty, anyways? You a princess or somethin'?
[ he doesn't mean it seriously but -- given what the demographic here was like, he wouldn't put it past her. ]
no subject
Yes, I am aware that the world is cruel and wicked and full of woe. The part of it immediately around me doesn't have to be.
And I am, in fact. At least at home.
[She does have a memory of her dear husband--the same face in both sets of memories clanging around her skull--standing proudly beside the throne of a man who was his elder image, her father-in-law.]
no subject
[ a hand comes back up to scratch at this head, bewilderment coloring his features. ]
How the hell are there so many rich people here--
[ and then, as if a realization's dawned on him: ]
Ohhh, so that's why you use the timey wimey parchment... you're from ye 'olden times. Everything must be confusing as hell for you now, huh?
no subject
[In fact, it hasn't occurred to her in quite that way before. Ethlyn had made a little game of spotting other members of the nobility earlier in her time here, and she had found more than just a few, even if not all of those people are still here.
Why would so many high-status people be pulled to this world, when there are so fewer of them compared to the rest of the population?]
Maybe they think our crimes are more important to punish.