Guriel | Angelic OCgurielApril 18 2012, 16:24:54 UTC
[Guri actually would canonically be around for all of these, and I'm at least passing familiar with all of them except Belle Epoque, so knock yourselves out, y'all.]
Ahhh gotcha (Western USAian, here, we got a LOT of Depression Era History in my raisin' :P) Alternatively, we could chuck the RNG and go for Medieval, which is on your list down there (and which I am ridiculously fond of anyway?)
sweet! /dons Medieval hatgurielApril 21 2012, 22:49:57 UTC
[Guriel's been in what will someday be called the Middle East for quite a few years, but now that knights and their retinues are starting to straggle back to England, Guri has headed back as well.
Now he's once again wandering from town to town, stopping here and there to help people.]
[And this one may well need the aid. As a son of the local sexton: he's a lad of eighteen engaged in the rather grisly task of digging another grave.
It's out the front of the church, which sucks above all else - the family of the dead man are still around, after all, a whole brood of children (this guy got around) skulking, glaring like it's his damn fault, faces red with cold and grief.
It only takes a word, a casual movement, a hand pushing his hair back from his face for one of those kids to hurl the first chunk of mud. Could be worse, could be rocks, but. -- How to comfort and control when he doesn't have a word to offer himself?
[Hard to spot exactly where he came from, but all of a sudden there's a travel-strained man not much older than the gravedigger catching one of those kids by the wrist, arresting the latest mud clot before it can sail down into the grave.]
Look, I don't want any trouble... [And he really doesn't. Fancy a short drop and a sudden stop in said grave -- again.]
[A curse, and the kid - bigger than the gravedigger, who's yet to hit his last growth spurt - gets his other arm round in attempt to give the new guy a shove in the solar plexus.]
[Guriel sidesteps with a dancer's grace, still gripping the kid's wrist. A moment later he gives it a twist -- not meant to be painful, just meant to end with the wrist pinned at the small of the kid's back.]
[Jude's coming over, away from the big hole in the dirt, to give his unexpected rescuer some moral, but hopefully not physical, support. The others would be hanging back, wary 'cause their leader's tough but how the holy heck is he getting out of this one. ... Broken wrists aren't fun.]
[Guriel grasps the kid's shoulder and leans forward, his tone conversational.] Now I know your Mum didn't bring up a big strong lad like you to spend your time like this. You've much better things to be doing, aye?
[Snarl and struggle. Jude nudges the stranger's shoulder. Parents may or may not be an itchy topic around this kid.] Look, you lads are angry, I get it, yeah. Cannae blame you. Cann' blame anybody. [And whether that's more or less likely to get him rushed and thrown in the grave - well. Diplomacy for beginners? Practice needed.]
[Under his breath, aimed at the stranger:] No, really, man. Their da's the one mine's due to be buryin'.
That so? [Guriel releases the kid's wrist and shoulder, stepping back.] And d'you think from where your Da's at now, he's proud to see his boys behaving this way?
[An automatic curse, but now he's tugging at his tunic, sweating. He didn't like the strength behind that hand on his wrist. Starting a fight, getting soundly trounced and being laid up for a month would almost certainly mean worse times than are already coming. With his Da gone - this big kid's the main breadwinner.
A soft growl in response. Spits at Guriel's feet, but he backs down and turns away. The younger siblings follow. And Jude lets go the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.]
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I came up with 10: Great Depression. Work for you? :D
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OK. I know nothing about the Depression - aside from that one Who ep with the pig guy? - but am prepared to roll with it if you are!
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Now he's once again wandering from town to town, stopping here and there to help people.]
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It's out the front of the church, which sucks above all else - the family of the dead man are still around, after all, a whole brood of children (this guy got around) skulking, glaring like it's his damn fault, faces red with cold and grief.
It only takes a word, a casual movement, a hand pushing his hair back from his face for one of those kids to hurl the first chunk of mud. Could be worse, could be rocks, but. -- How to comfort and control when he doesn't have a word to offer himself?
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Oi! What's all of this, then?
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[A curse, and the kid - bigger than the gravedigger, who's yet to hit his last growth spurt - gets his other arm round in attempt to give the new guy a shove in the solar plexus.]
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[Snarl and struggle. Jude nudges the stranger's shoulder. Parents may or may not be an itchy topic around this kid.] Look, you lads are angry, I get it, yeah. Cannae blame you. Cann' blame anybody. [And whether that's more or less likely to get him rushed and thrown in the grave - well. Diplomacy for beginners? Practice needed.]
[Under his breath, aimed at the stranger:] No, really, man. Their da's the one mine's due to be buryin'.
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A soft growl in response. Spits at Guriel's feet, but he backs down and turns away. The younger siblings follow. And Jude lets go the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.]
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