pushing ourselves
for Brecken
_Dorian Pryor
The Orator

Age: 42 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Nomadic
Level: 3 - Strg: 15 - Dext: 15 - Endr: 15 - Luck: 15 - Int:
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Posts: 46 | Total: 5,479
MP: 1825
#1
words can't express how beautiful you are.
After the meeting with the rest of the Order cabinet members, Dorian was quick to begin his implementation. Not that he really had authority to do so, but better to ask forgiveness than permission and whatnot.

"Brecken, my boy, whatever is the hurry?" he called after the fair-haired young man as he hurried after him. Though the Plaza was as busy as ever, the Orator was quite good at making his voice carry. He could easily be picked out from a crowd for that trait alone, and Brecken was quite familiar with his voice anyways. The young man was one of Dorian's finest recruits to the Order after all, having spotted his potential and guided him into molding it for their purposes. Though Dorian did try to resolved as many things as possible via diplomatic means, those with the ability and mental fortitude to take up arms were always necessary in these political games of chess. The Knight was the most flexible piece after all, after the Queen (and Dorian was most certainly a, if not the, Queen).

When he managed to catch up with Brecken he clapped him on the shoulder in hearty greeting. "Quite the meeting wouldn't you say?" he said with a grin.
Dorian
but numbers can. 4/10

Code blatantly stolen from the fantastical, wonderful Odd
Brecken Michaelis
The Lance

Age: 33 | Height: 6' | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 3 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 13 - Luck: 10 - Int:
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Posts: 18 | Total: 255
MP: 0
#2
THE LION ISN'T SACRED WHEN NOT SLEEPING NEAR THE LAMB
Certain things Brecken knew to be immutable truths about himself. Among these things, of course, the need for more. To know more, to see more, to drink the world until his body burst open. Despite his silence during the meeting, Brecken was alive with possibility in the wake of it. The illness, the focal point of it all, was almost forgotten. Here was a mystery in need of solving, a matter to grab in his teeth and shake until it broke. He needed to get out — he needed to see if for himself. Enough of sitting in a room and planning — he had permission to find himself outside the city walls again.

Not yet, though. No.

Dorian's voice was the jerk of a leash — just as sudden and unforgiving. Though it was friendly — of course, given the voice's owner — Brecken for a moment in his most primal being resented the intrusion. He was thinking, damn it. Thinking, planning, making strategies up in his own way, even if those strategies mostly consisted of get ready very quickly and get the hell out of Stormbreak. By the time Dorian reached him, of course, Brecken had managed to compose himself. This was no enemy of his, and no target for misplaced aggression. This was a colleague with more in his head than Brecken would ever have, someone at once to be respected and regarded with caution.

A knife-edged smile slashed up one side of Brecken's face. "Quite," he agreed. "I thought I would mull things over on my way to the Climb." He said it as if it were a joke, too absurd to be taken seriously. And yet — wasn't he planning to do just that? More or less? He wanted to get the hell out and get his bearings; he wanted to sink his teeth in the outside world. And yet, he knew Dorian had caught him for a reason. Knew he was very likely about to be asked something, something relating to the matter at hand, so obediently he called his impetuosity to heel and put on his best, most polite face. "But something tells me you have a better idea."
IT IS EVIL WHEN IT EATS UNLESS IT'S FEEDING FROM THE DAMNED.
_Dorian Pryor
The Orator

Age: 42 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Nomadic
Level: 3 - Strg: 15 - Dext: 15 - Endr: 15 - Luck: 15 - Int:
Played by: Grant Offline
Change author:
Posts: 46 | Total: 5,479
MP: 1825
#3
words can't express how beautiful you are.
"Better is subjective, young man. Additional, certainly, but you shall decide if it is better." Dorian said with a mischievous grin. He wrapped an arm around his shoulder, leaning in as if conspiring - which he was - to carry out some fun little plan. But no plan the Orator concocted was ever merely for fun. It all had a purpose - a rhyme and reason - to further the agenda of the Order.

"In between your visits to the Climb and other duties, I would like you to keep an eye on someone of importance to us." he said softly, so only Brecken could clearly hear him. "There is a young woman, Phoebe Steadman, in Torchline. We have reason to believe Frey might make her a demigoddess in the future. Given their penchant for being...fickle...it would be to our benefit to earn her trust. Cian's notes indicate she is a bit...flighty, this Nightingale." he explained, his grin growing by the second. "Now you are a handsome, strapping young man. Certainly you can find a way to convince her to trust our cause...if only by trusting you?" he said, curious if Brecken would catch his meaning.
Dorian
but numbers can. 4/10

Code blatantly stolen from the fantastical, wonderful Odd
Brecken Michaelis
The Lance

Age: 33 | Height: 6' | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 3 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 13 - Luck: 10 - Int:
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Posts: 18 | Total: 255
MP: 0
#4
THE LION ISN'T SACRED WHEN NOT SLEEPING NEAR THE LAMB
The expression of interest and mild amusement never leaves his face: a wry twist of the mouth, a curious light in his eyes. If he is humoring Dorian or if he is genuinely curious, Brecken himself can't be sure. He likes the idea of the Climb. He likes the idea of getting out of the city, already. But he also likes the idea of being needed, of being useful, and so he allows the surprise to show plainly on his face as he takes in this little plan.

"Here I thought you were about to ask of me something unpleasant," Brecken jokes. But his tone is serious when he continues. "What else can you tell me about this woman?" There is a picture forming in his mind already, shaped by the presence of Frey and what Brecken knows of Torchline. The picture is pleasant enough. Of course, he would have agreed if this Phoebe Steadman were an old hag, simply because Dorian asked it of him. The asking is a formality, a peculiarity of Dorian, Brecken thinks. It is part of why he likes the man, but partly what keeps him on edge around the Orator.
IT IS EVIL WHEN IT EATS UNLESS IT'S FEEDING FROM THE DAMNED.


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