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
You're right, we can't. [She considers a moment.] It's a crime, what's being done to us, isn't it? Even if I was brought back from death, hardly anyone else was... and it doesn't justify their games and their torments.
[She still feels herself a failure for not having the courage to look at her own past with open eyes. But that doesn't mean it was all right for them to go and take that past from her in the first place.]
Very ironic. We should beat their butts, and turn it around on them.
no subject
tsunderepassionate than Ange's own, she doesn't seem to matter. She may not know everything about Ethlyn, but Ange likes to think that she knows her well enough to know that she really does agree with everything Ange is saying right now.Especially since Ethlyn is actually laughing. It may just have been a moment, but-- It's good, Ange thinks. Ethlyn should be able to laugh, instead of being made to feel miserable just because this dumb place messes around with them. ]
Then let's start here.
[ Because they unfortunately can't reach the butts of the people in charge here to kick those. Not yet. But in the meantime-- ]
I bet they'd be real annoyed if all of us sorted out our memories again, despite them trying to hard to mix them up. [ Ange would want to help with that anyway. Something about the thought of Ethlyn being stuck with the wrong memories really bothers her. ] How about you write down all the memories you remember, and then I help sort them out by seeing if there's any I remember you telling me about, or that just seem to fit more with what I know about you?
[ It might not solve the full problem, since the memories would still be present in Ethlyn's head - but it feels better than nothing. It might give the other some clarity.
And spending some time on helping her out with it is a very small prince for Ange to pay if that's the result, she thinks. ]