all the men and women merely players
Mildw
Falke Guildenstern
The "Fixer"

Age: 40 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 3 - Strg: 15 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 14 - Luck: 18 - Int:
OPHELIA - Regular - Brown Weeper Capuchin
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#15
We're all just ticking time bombs
Falke chuckles along, knowing all too well the possibilities of mixing herbs up; he’s accidentally dosed himself with something unpleasant once or twice. But that, the Fixer assumes, just comes with the territory.

However, the conversation turns a corner just as Falke finishes his own meal. Dabbing the corners of his mouth to make sure he doesn’t look like a greasy child, the Stormbreaker hums and tilts his head. “We’re dedicated to preventing the Voice from taking hold of Caido, by almost any means possible. We follow the directions of the Old Gods and their demigods and have their blessing, and for the last three hundred years, we were mostly watching the Grounds, doing Research, and anything that could lessen the Voice’s power if she got out.” Gesturing vaguely to the world around them, he sighs, though not so earth-wearily heavy as one might imagine.

“As you know, she did. So now our focus shifts to the inevitable war and giving our side the best advantage possible.” And from what he knows, he makes a face. “Seems like we might be doing well, actually. But I’m not really a ‘field’ person. Not yet, at least.”

Though if the Order ever needs Falke Guildenstern to go out and fight on their behalf, they’ll be in a sorry place, indeed.
FALKE
Swamp Witch

Age: 517 | Height: 5'2" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Nomadic
Level: 2 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 15 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 11 - Int:
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#16
M i l d e w

Come down, little darling,
and lay at my breast
Mildew listened to the explanation of the Order interestedly, eating her meal as she did and nodding or 'humm'ing at the appropriate moments. Isolated as she was, it was difficult for her to know how successful they had been in their efforts, though she was glad to hear Falke mentioned that the Voice had escaped - that was going to be her next question. Instead she was quiet for a moment, looking out of the window with a knotted brow.

"So you aren't a 'field' person...who is? Have you got an army? Has...the Voice an army?" She asked, curiously tilting her head from side to side as she considered these possibilities. "I've heard some of these Ascended, of whom I've yet to meet one, can be quite powerful. While we do have the Gods, they like their people to solve as many problems of their own as they can first." Mildew glanced sideways at Falke, the slightest hint of a challenge in her eyes. What did they have that made them think they'd succeed?
Oh, come a little closer
and I'll do the rest
Falke Guildenstern
The "Fixer"

Age: 40 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 3 - Strg: 15 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 14 - Luck: 18 - Int:
OPHELIA - Regular - Brown Weeper Capuchin
Played by: Astor Offline
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Posts: 207 | Total: 4,350
MP: 0
#17
We're all just ticking time bombs
“Finn Rosencrantz, the Spyglass, does a lot of our field work. I think some others get out of Stormbreak too, occasionally. But from what I hear he often works with Remi and Ronin Taliesin.” Falke is able to keep his face carefully neutral, even if there’s a bit of tightening in his voice. His… opinions on what is healthy for Finn differ drastically from Cian’s, but then they’re all in service to the Order and so he can only do his best to treat the Spyglass when he needs it.

Trying to change the topic, he’s all too glad to move on to talk of the Ascended. “Yes, we’ve heard of Wessex, the Voice’s demigod. She’s probably the biggest threat, other than the Voice and the Core.” Making a bit of a face, as if just saying their names fills him with some kind of noxious feeling, Falke takes a breath. “But I’ve never met any Ascended personally. Part of me wants to, just to say I have.” And the other part doesn’t even want to try and touch the mind of someone who’s Ascended.

An idea occurs to him and he seems to ‘pop up’ a bit. “So, some of the demigods I’ve met can do all kinds of things. You’ve mentioned a knowledge of herbs, but has Frey given you any other gifts?”
FALKE
Swamp Witch

Age: 517 | Height: 5'2" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Nomadic
Level: 2 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 15 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 11 - Int:
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#18
M i l d e w

Come down, little darling,
and lay at my breast
"Ah..I know Remi and Ronin." Mildew nodded, folding one hand over the other and leaning her chin on them as she listened. It seemed the two Demi Gods were very busy indeed - since her reintegration to society, she'd heard about them being involved in all kinds of endeavours.

Finishing the last of her meal with a couple of bites and a content nod, she leaned back and considered Wessex, the Voices 'Demi-God'. It would be interesting to meet such a person; Mildew was not afraid of the Ascended nor their power and wondered what the Voice's version of divine favour would look like. "Oh, I'd love to. I'm sure they're fascinating to talk to. I've never been much of a fighter, so I wouldn't feel obligated to begin any kind of brawl. I'd just be interested to know how they think." Would they admit the cold, mechanical lives they lead were bereft?

Speaking of Demi-Gods...Mildew laughed as Falke suddenly asked his question and mysteriously waved her fingers before her as if casting a spell. "Yes, I do. Though you might find my abilities less exciting than most. I create trinkets that help people in their lives...in various ways. With my task being to maintain the Feverlands, I never had much use for big showy powers."
Oh, come a little closer
and I'll do the rest
Falke Guildenstern
The "Fixer"

Age: 40 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 3 - Strg: 15 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 14 - Luck: 18 - Int:
OPHELIA - Regular - Brown Weeper Capuchin
Played by: Astor Offline
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Posts: 207 | Total: 4,350
MP: 0
#19
We're all just ticking time bombs
Mildew is still a bit coy about what her God-given abilities are - trinkets to help people in various ways is rather nondescript - either that or she’s underselling herself. Falke can’t quite tell which it is, or none of the above. She’s entirely new to him, and he’s come to the quick conclusion that both age and isolation make her different from anyone he’s ever talked to. A good different. A fascinating different.

To his credit, the Fixer is about to ask more questions when that post-coital, post-feeding coma starts to hit him hard and fast. He yawns unexpectedly, and then burps, covering his mouth afterwards out of polite surprise. “Oh, excuse me.” Then with a short chuckle, he pushes his plate away. “I think that means I need to head to bed. Will you come ‘round my office tomorrow? I’d love to see those herbs you’ve mentioned. And I have a few more questions about the Feverlands.”

He stands and stretches briefly, before gesturing towards the Tower. “I’m on the bottom floor of the Tower. Ask anyone for Falke’s office and they’ll be able to point you in the right direction.” Waiting long enough to get her assurance that she’ll be there (or not, it’s up to the demigoddess, of course), Falke Guildenstern walks quietly in to the night and straight home to Phi and his bed.
FALKE
Swamp Witch

Age: 517 | Height: 5'2" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Nomadic
Level: 2 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 15 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 11 - Int:
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#20
M i l d e w

Come down, little darling,
and lay at my breast
The yawn and burp surprised a laugh out of Mildew; usually, people who were aware of her age and Godliness adopted an air of reverent respect and took extra care not to offend. Luckily for Finn, it was unnecessary. After all of her years on Caido, she was very hard to truly upset. "Oh dear. Sounds like you need to go to bed indeed. Hmm..." As for coming over the next day, she tapped her chin and tilted her head from side to side.

"If you can see me early, then yes, but I'd like to start heading back afterwards." If she spent too long in the city, without the dirt under her feet and the swamp around her, Mildew began to find herself going stir crazy. "I'll be there in the morning." And she would, though her definition of morning began the second the sun came out. It would remain to be seen if this matched with Falkes.


{FIN}
Oh, come a little closer
and I'll do the rest


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