Glacial Veins
Samuel
Ophelia Athanasia
Emissary

Age: 23 | Height: 5'4 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 0 - Strg: 8 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 5 - Int:
Played by: Brit Offline
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Posts: 7
MP: 0
#1
Ophelia

As eager as they’d been to Ascend that evening with Aamu, Ophelia had been struck to the core with the realization that they had nothing to offer The Voice. They had silently despaired in turn over their own foolish oversight and their self-inflicted delay. Alas, they have waited this many years. What is one more day?

Still, they are uncharacteristically gripped with indecision. Not simply over the items themselves - though that is certainly the cause behind their pinched brows and twisted expression - but whether they will be enticing enough. After all, Ophelia is well aware of their disdain for the Old Gods and their cherry-picking ways. For all the intense devotion a person can have for a God they never met, Ophelia is not spared doubt. Not the least of which is centered around themself.

After all, what can Ophelia really offer? They are posed to receive everything, to do nothing but take. They are similarly underwhelming as an individual. What it The Voice finds them wanting?

Their desperation leads them here, to the market stalls with its various offerings. Haggling fiercely with a pretentious seller who seemingly offers nothing for The Voice. For all their diminutive size and soft-spoken voice, Ophelia does not back down at all. “Your arrogance blinds you, as a merchant you should at least see the financial appeal to offering tributes for The Voice. You would ensure more clientele.” When the man begins to object - more bigotry than logic - Ophelia calmly steamrolls over him. “At least scrape together enough self-respect to direct me to a seller that is not so infantile.” The prim way they say it summons snickers from the surrounding stalls that shamelessly eavesdrop, but inspired only red-faced blistering from the seller in question. The shouted expletives do nothing to Ophelia - their father had much more impressive lungs and vocabulary both - and instead they cross their thin arms and wait with their strange piercing gaze for the man to run out of steam. Or better yet, acquiesce.
it's peaceful in the deep, either way you cannot breathe
no need to pray - no need to speak
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Samuel Wordsworth
Book maker/seller

Age: 29 | Height: 5' 5" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 9 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 25 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 24 - Int: 1
MIA - Regular - Ragdoll Cat
Played by: Lancydulac Offline
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Posts: 2,893
MP: 219
#2
And here we go, "Hello, floor. Have you met my knees?"
Sam no longer sold from a stall in the market, but he still liked to walk through it's stalls and see what was available; even within the often dull Grounds, there could be wonderful finds on tables of common merchants. He was a bit of a magpie when it came to collecting trinkets; anything glazed, blue, anything with birds...he had about five collections going at any one time, because his home clearly needed more cluttered surfaces.

He was comparing two clay figurines when he overheard an angry voice from the stall over. Admittedly, at first he listened because he was being nosy and wanted to hear any gossip, but once The Voice was mentioned, Sam listened closer. It seemed that whoever this was wanted an offering for her; that they would ask so brazenly in the middle of the market was quite shocking, really. Especially with the existence of groups like the Order nowadays - didn't they know?

Normally he didn't approach strangers, but he couldn't let this person run their mouth like this. Stepping in close to them and tapping their arm, he said lowly: "I can help you see the Voice, if you come with me." If they would follow, he would try and take them to a quiet spot along the wall, still in the light and view of the stalls, but not right next to those that might have ill intent.
SAMUEL
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Ophelia Athanasia
Emissary

Age: 23 | Height: 5'4 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 0 - Strg: 8 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 5 - Int:
Played by: Brit Offline
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Posts: 7
MP: 0
#3
Ophelia

Ophelia has no knowledge of the danger they are courting. They grew like solitary corn in their ramshackle farm, chained and cursed to never see the boundaries beyond their fields. They know of the disdain and hatred their family held for The Voice, but if Ophelia had to listen to the followers of the Old Gods preach from their mountains, why can they not return the favor?

The tap on their arm has them turning, eerie ice shards of irises lifting to take in pale skin and auburn locks. Not quite so diminutive as Ophelia, but with a murmuring voice that eases the tight nature of their shoulders well before the words register. A similar soul then. Not caring enough to even dismiss the seller, Ophelia turns their face to the stranger and their face relaxes into a guileless hopeful expression. Without responding aloud, they follow the man away from the meandering throng of people, waiting only long enough for the man to pause before speaking.

“I am Ophelia. Please, I must acquire a gift for The Voice. It is of upmost importance. Can you help me?” Despite the urgency of the words themselves, Ophelia’s face does not hold it physically, words still soft-spoken and large eyes scarcely blinking. Firm and immovable in their faith, their goal.
it's peaceful in the deep, either way you cannot breathe
no need to pray - no need to speak
Reply
Samuel Wordsworth
Book maker/seller

Age: 29 | Height: 5' 5" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 9 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 25 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 24 - Int: 1
MIA - Regular - Ragdoll Cat
Played by: Lancydulac Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,893
MP: 219
#4
And here we go, "Hello, floor. Have you met my knees?"
Thankfully, they willingly came with him and they avoided a scene; Sam, for all his talk of peace and hope, knew that a lot of things when it came to the Ascended living peacefully among others were hanging on a thin thread. He wanted to scold Ophelia once he'd gotten them safely to the edge of the road, but glancing at their mouth, seeing a lack of fangs...he realised they had to be very new to talking to the Voice.

(Or some kind of very good Order spy...but he tried to tell himself that was silly).

"A gift...?" He repeated, tilting his head to the side. "The Voice doesn't usually have much use for gifts. If you want an audience with her, I can just take you...I promise you she would be happy enough to just see a non-Ascended willing to speak with her." Sam had never taken offerings for the Voice and had gotten the impression she found them little more than clutter. "Why is it you want to see her?"
SAMUEL
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Ophelia Athanasia
Emissary

Age: 23 | Height: 5'4 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 0 - Strg: 8 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 5 - Int:
Played by: Brit Offline
Change author:
Posts: 7
MP: 0
#5
Ophelia

Their face crumpled slightly, the equivalent of anguish for someone like Ophelia. Were they wrong all over again? It is a stinging strike, and they sway on their feet, emotion and hunger alike turning the earth to a roiling wave beneath them. Leaning against the wall beside them, Ophelia breathes through their nose and blinks away sparks behind her eyes and wetness from icy lashes.

“But how will I prove I am worthy of her? I have nothing. Not even a fit body for her to work with. “Maybe I should not,” they whisper, soft voice descending deeper into scarcely heard depths, musing aloud more than engaging. “Or wait, until...” Until what? Ophelia has no trades to offer, no skill sets outside of the farm. They are eerie, abrasive, and not the type to inspire a sense of compassion in others the moment they open their mouth. They will be dead by summer. And is that not proof they are unworthy of receiving anything from their chosen patron?
it's peaceful in the deep, either way you cannot breathe
no need to pray - no need to speak
Reply
Samuel Wordsworth
Book maker/seller

Age: 29 | Height: 5' 5" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 9 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 25 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 24 - Int: 1
MIA - Regular - Ragdoll Cat
Played by: Lancydulac Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,893
MP: 219
#6
And here we go, "Hello, floor. Have you met my knees?"
Sam wasn't expecting such a strong reaction to his words; he watched helplessly as Ophelia clearly became distressed; he had thought he'd given good news, that the Voice didn't expect anything but yourself.

When they spoke though, the problem became more clear and it was one Sam understood deeply: a lack of self confidence. Shaking his head softly, Sam placed a hand on their arm and leaned in, trying to put his most comforting smile on his face as he promised: "You will be enough. Believe me." Touching a hand to his own chest, gesturing to himself, he gave a quiet chuckle. "The Voice thought me worthy, and I was only a shy bookseller with a stutter. Please, let me take you to her."

While he did still have his moments of doubt about his Goddess, but Sam still did think she had her benefits, and for small, quiet people without much to lose? She could provide strength, comfort, help, a family...it was hard to deny how useful she could be.
SAMUEL
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