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Jul 22, 2013 15:15:56 GMT -5
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Post by Richard de Calys on Feb 5, 2012 18:09:57 GMT -5
Richard was beginning to feel like he was going round in circles. Yes, he was royalty, no, he didn't look like it, that might have something to do with his father losing all the money and his being disowned by his stepmother and then being forced to make his own way in the world. He was just putting that out there, mentally, of course. And then they were back to the armourers. For a girl she had a rather unhealthy obsession with it. "Why would I need one if I was already wearing armour?" Aoife Logic and Richard Logic clearly weren't one in the same. He didn't know why she was looking so smug about it, it was a stupid thing for her to say.
She certainly was related to Caitrin de Archer, that much was obvious, and despite never having met her, as she pointed out, the stubbornness was clearly in the genes. Part of him wanted to come across another de Archer...maybe a male one, just to see what they were like...of course he'd have to steal something from him, just for being a de Archer, which to Richard was a perfectly valid reason for being pick-pocketed.
Was she still banging on about her wondrous family? Richard had zoned out for a moment or two, thinking about stealing purses from unsuspecting nobles but managed to catch something about trouble and de Archers and it all sounded very pretentious and that was coming from Richard de Calys. "What does she look like?" He repeated, surely she'd seen some unflattering likeness in a portrait or something, hmm, maybe not if Caitrin really was the black sheep of the family. No wonder she'd been so desperate for his attention when they'd first met. "She's...tall...red hair, fair skin...tolerable to look at I suppose, if you like that sort of thing..." he shrugged, "She's female what more do you want?" He was probably the last person that should be called upon to describe the fairer sex in any great detail.
"Yes, I am going to go in." He replied with a definite tone. "I would have gone in there a lot sooner if you weren't pestering me. Well go on then," he started waving his hands at her, "Shoo." With that he turned away from her and walked into the armourers that had been so of interest and was glad to finally be rid of her.
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Jul 22, 2013 15:15:56 GMT -5
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Post by Richard de Calys on Feb 5, 2012 6:49:29 GMT -5
Coming to Camelot had certainly been a good idea. As magic was banned there were plenty of opportunities for Richard de Calys to find himself plenty of customers. Those who still practiced it needed someone who could find them what they needed and survive scrutiny from the authorities, luckily that was what Richard was best it. It was no surprise then when a contact of his informed him that there was a group of druids hiding in the forests and one of them had a nice job for him. What had his name been again? Alan? Alfred? Something like that. His name really made no matter to Richard anyway.
The only downside to his line of work, and Camelot especially, was that most of his meetings had to be conducted at night. He'd managed to get himself tangled in about three trees already so it was going well. If he ruined his new cloak on various branches he wouldn't be impressed. His turning up with a ruined cloak would hardly make a good impression. Although this customer was a druid, and therefore probably in no finer a state than he was, that wasn't a point. Richard had a reputation to uphold, and that wasn't just for his expertise.
He came to stop in a small clearing, hoping this was the right place. It wouldn't be the first time he'd found himself waiting in entirely the wrong place. The whole forest looked the same to him, especially in the dark. But then his druid should be able to find him, surely? Hopefully. If he had to wait for hours for nothing he would not be a very happy man.
Tagged: Alvarr
Timeline: Series two, pre The Witch's Quickening |
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Jul 22, 2013 15:15:56 GMT -5
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Post by Richard de Calys on Feb 4, 2012 19:37:42 GMT -5
What a stupid question. Then again, he should have expected as such. For all her smirking and eyebrow raising she wasn't the most intelligent of people. What did she think he wanted at the armourers? The fact that he didn't actually want what most people did wasn't the point. She didn't know that, she hadn't even assumed. "What do I want at the armourers?" He repeated her question while trying to think of answer that would satisfy her although he had a feeling nothing would. "Armour and...stuff. What do you think?" Well that was a brilliant answer. At least she was going to question whatever his reply was. It was better than coming up with some grand excuse only for her to disbelive it, and alright, it was a lie so it was fair enough that she didn't believe it but even so, it was none of her business what he did or where he went. Richard de Calys did not answer to annoying young girls, especially northern ones.
Richard rolled his eyes. If he had a hat for every time someone said he didn't look like a royal...actually, he probably did have a hat for every time someone said he didn't look like a royal. His eyebrows furrowed as he thought about this. Yes, he did. Gosh, he didn't realise quite how many he had. Anyway, his hat collection, wonderful as it was, was neither here nor there. His heritage was being questioned and he wasn't going to stand for that. "And what do royals look like? They don't always go around with a crown." He was well aware that his attire wasn't exactly best befitting of a man of his standing but that wasn't the point. Royals didn't walk around with a sign declaring their status. "Why would I lie? Clearly I have nothing better to do than stand around trying to make young girls believe I am royalty." He was being rude, far more rude than he usually would be, but she was just so damned annoying so it was justified.
She seemed shocked at his words. Surely Aoife knew what her aunt was like? Hmm. Maybe not. She was obviously after more details, curious thing that she was. How much exactly should he tell her? If she didn't know that much about Caitrin he definitely wasn't going to mention the more inappropriate behaviour. "All I know is that there was some trouble with her family, hmm, fancy that, someone having trouble with the de Archers..."
Why was she smirking at him? Was she trying to imply something? Just the thought of what she might be implying was enough to cause Richard some serious discomfort, and rather a bit of embarrassment. "It was either that or stay on her own, completely defenceless. And if your smirk is trying to imply something you can stop it right now." Brilliant. Now she was chastising a child. That was something he'd never imagine himself doing, which, incidentally, seemed to be a theme with these de Archer girls. |
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Post by Richard de Calys on Feb 4, 2012 10:04:37 GMT -5
What was the girl's obsession with the armourers? He would have thought she would have more sense to think that he was in the area when he needed one, rather than travelling all this way - practically the length of Albion to find one. "Of course we do," he resisted the urge to add "silly girl", it was rather a struggle. "I know this might sound hard to believe, but I didn't come all this way for an armourers. I happened to be here when I needed one. Is there anything else you need to know, or can I be on my way now?" She'd probably only think of more irritating questions now, how wonderful.
Why would she call him Your Highness? Well, because his uncle was a king. Surely she had enough intelligence to work out that must mean he was royalty. He might not look like much at the moment (he really did need a new cloak, he'd had this old thing for a month at least) but he still had the elegance and stature of royalty. Those things were not so easily lost by a few years wanderings and sleeping outside. She did have a point though, he had not introduced himself properly. That could easily corrected though. He dropped into a bow - not too low though, he wasn't that eager to make a good impression. "I am Richard de Calys, my uncle is King Edmund of Cantia." When he was at his full height again he crossed his arms against his chest and gave her a questioning look. "Happy now?"
Caitrin was her aunt? Well that explained a lot. No doubt Caitrin had taught her well in the ways of irritating nice young Cantians. He was slightly put out that she wasn't aware of what had happened. He had hoped Caitrin would be complaining about her time with him for at least a few months. "Yes, a run in." He repeated, not exactly sure how much information he should divulge. "She was trying to run away," he explained, his tone still one of irritation as he remembered those few days with Caitrin. He didn't want to tell her everything though, she might start to question what he was doing again if he told her he'd been employed by Lord Rouland. "I happened to be in the same inn as her so I took her back to Camelot." |
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Post by Richard de Calys on Feb 3, 2012 16:20:34 GMT -5
Richard was becoming more and more annoyed by the girl. What difference did it make to her whether he went into the armourers or not? Surely she had better things to do than watch him? He hadn't realised he was quite so interesting. He would have thought of some reason why he wasn't just going inside instead of wasting his time talking to her, but she'd already moved onto her next line of enquiry. "I'm from Cantia." He replied rather dismissively. He doubted she'd heard of the place. No doubt his answer would be met with more questions and he really didn't have the time, or the effort.
A lady? Richard rolled his eyes, in title only it seemed. If she wanted to be called by her title so desperately then maybe she should act in a way a lady should. Besides, he was royalty, he could speak to her as he wished. Maybe he should point that out to her, it seemed she did love a hierarchy. It might even put her in her place. "I could do that," he replied nonchalantly. "But only if you promise to call me Your Highness." She, no doubt, would have something to say about that, and he was fairly certain her reaction would amuse him. Something told him that she wouldn't much care for being in the company of someone with a higher status than her. Hmm. This could be fun.
Had she just said she was a de Archer? As in Caitrin de Archer? Richard groaned. He should have known - ginger, angry, Mercian, of course she was a de Archer. It was just his luck that he should find himself in the presence of yet another one. The only consolation was that he highly doubted she would be able to get him out of his shirt. No, he'd learnt the hard way what happened when a de Archer woman got hold of your clothing and it definitely wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat. "Yes, I have heard of the de Archers." He ran a hand through his hair. Clearly he wasn't allowed to escape them. "I had a run in with a relative of yours - Caitrin." It hadn't been a pleasant experience - Caitrin's inappropriate advances, being kidnapped and tortured, having his clothes stolen... He subconciously pulled his cloak around him a little tighter. As far as he was concerned the sooner she left him alone, the better. |
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Post by Richard de Calys on Feb 2, 2012 17:08:09 GMT -5
Of course he wasn't Mercian. Did the child know nothing? How could anyone with his stature could not possibly have been from such an arctic wasteland as this. Silly girl. He was rather offended that she was having to question where he was from, and even so, why was that akin to him being lost? He knew perfectly well where he was, sort of, it was just what he was doing, rather than where he was going that was posing a problem. "That's because I'm not." He said with a rather irritated tone. "And I'm not lost. I want to speak to the armourer," he gestured towards the entrance to the armourers with his hand, "Hence the location."
She clearly hadn't appreciated his patting her head, and he had to press his lips together to keep from smirking. Her reaction was certainly amusing. He tilted his head to the side and looked at her curiously. How old could she be? Thirteen? Fourteen? Something like that. Maybe she wasn't a child but she was no adult either. "And what would you have me call you?" He asked ever so slightly patronisingly. What was the point in speaking to children, sorry, non-children, if you couldn't be a little condesending? It was so much nicer to be able to talk to someone who he didn't want something from, and therefore didn't have to be singing their praises in every sentence. With her, he could be as rude as he wanted and there was nothing she could do about it.
"Don't you know who I am?"
It was now Richard's turn to look at her with raised eyebrows. Such a proud little thing she was. How was he supposed to know who she was? He was the one with the name and the reputation, she was probably just the daughter of some unimportant Mercian noble with a high opinion of herself. It was quite sweet really, the pride she obviously had towards her family name, but it didn't make her any more interesting to him. "No, I do not, and I cannot see what difference your name would make to me." That was sure to annoy her - good. |
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Post by Richard de Calys on Feb 1, 2012 19:24:25 GMT -5
The only thing worse than children, in Richard's opinion, was children who asked questions that he either didn't know the answer to, didn't want to answer, or where just rhetorical and asked in a rather smug tone. If there were going to be any rhetorical questions asked in a smug tone they were going to be asked by him. He was the adult here after all. It seemed his avoidance technique had gone and backfired on him and he was back to where he started - not having any clue how to deal with her. He just wanted her to go away so he'd be free to continue with the job. Wasn't there something she should be doing instead of asking him stupid questions? Apparantly not. "I'm not lost at all, thank you very much." He replied with more than a hint of annoyance. The last thing he needed was small girls trying to seem cleverer than him - it just wasn't going to work and would get tiresome very quickly.
Well, Richard thought dryly in response to her statement about her parents, why don't you go and find them then? And leave me to what I was doing? He was still cold, and tired, and not enjoying this as much as he'd expected and she wasn't helping at all. It was a sad day indeed when Richard de Calys was getting quite so irritated by a child. It was almost embarrassing. Before he had a chance to reply to that - not that he could think of anything to get rid of her anyway - she was back to her first question of what he was doing. What he was doing was none of her business. Honestly, he would never be pestered so much in Cantia. The children there were far too busy to go around interrogating people. "What I'm doing is none of your concern, child." He said with what he thought was a sense of authority. He patted the top of her head, "Now run along, I'm very busy." |
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Post by Richard de Calys on Feb 1, 2012 13:02:01 GMT -5
Ah! A small child. Richard looked down at the girl, not quite sure what to say. He hadn't expected anyone to be paying that much attention to him, least of all a small person such as this, and so he hadn't thought of a suitable excuse yet. Luckily he had a fool-proof plan: when it doubt, ignore the question. He bent down so he was at her level and just looked at her for a moment. She had that Mercian look about her, but then she would, wouldn't she? "Are you lost?" He looked around, trying to see any onlooking parents but found none. "Shall we go and find your parents?" It was probably rather obvious that he wasn't the best person to be dealing with children. They were as bad as women. He just didn't know what to do.
The girl was looking at him rather expectantly, probably still awaiting the reason for his being there. She had her arms folded and her eyebrow raised in pretty much the exact same manner as another Mercian female he'd had the...pleasure to meet. It was obviously an automatic Mercian response, and his Cantian sensibilities didn't much care for it. He narrowed his eyes at her. This was not what he wanted to be doing today, this was supposed to be his nice job! But no, the fates were against him and he was now stuck with this child. Of all the people for her to talk to, it had to be him. How fantastic. |
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Post by Richard de Calys on Feb 1, 2012 11:18:00 GMT -5
Richard should probably stop being so obviously affected by the cold if he wanted to not stand out so much, then again, these Mercians could probably spot a southerner a mile off, and that was before he opened his mouth. Reluctantly, he let go of the cloak and immediately regretted it, but he was Richard de Calys, he could deal with a little cold, hopefully. He was still trying to find someone who looked like they could be helpful, but it wasn't going well so far. This was supposed to be an easy job. At least with his less savoury customers there was usually some mysterious contact he could just find. Here he was just left to his own devices and just finding random people to stalk for a while to see if they were any help.
Turns out this wasn't actually getting him anywhere. He ran a hand through his hair, he was supposed to be good at this sort of thing but instead he was just wandering around aimlessly hoping some information presented itself. He'd managed to find himself in a rather busy market and well, as he was there, it seemed like a wasted oppurtunity if he didn't practice his skills, besides, practice makes perfect. He'd managed to get himself quite the small fortune by the time he'd turned the corner and found an armourers. A grin found its way onto his face. Excellent. |
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Post by Richard de Calys on Feb 1, 2012 8:06:32 GMT -5
Richard had missed the simplicity of jobs like this. All he had to do was go to Mercia, find some information and then go back to Camelot. There was nothing that could possibly go wrong. There were no perilous lands to cross, no formidable foes to defeat and absolutely nothing to do with magic. He was almost tempted to take longer with this job and fully appreciate it, and he would have done, if it wasn't so damned cold.
He rubbed his hands together, trying to generate some heat from the friction as he watched Mercians go about their daily business. Were they not aware of the temperature? His mind wandered back to his home, a million miles away, and probably filled with sunshine and warmth and...quite a bit of wind, but that didn't matter because at least he'd experienced daylight.
It was a rather rare occurence, but he wasn't actually sure what information he was supposed to be gathering. Something along the lines of the Mercian army, but that could mean anything. The Mercians had one. Right. Next job. He sighed into his hands, still attempting to keep some feeling in his hands. When that didn't work he pulled his cloak tighter around himself and just resigned himself to the fact that he was probably not going to be able to feel his extremities soon.
After a few moment's consideration he decided the best thing to do was to find himself someone who knew what he wanted to know. This could probably take some time, he'd met a Mercian before and she hadn't been the friendliest of people, or the easiest to understand. Well, there was no time like the present, so attempting to pull his cloak even tighter he set off in such of someone useful, but not with high expectations.
Tagged: Aoife de Archer
Timeline: A few months after Stubbornness Can Only Get You So Far |
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Post by Richard de Calys on Jan 17, 2012 12:07:35 GMT -5
 I skipped to the end. Deal.
Richard should not have been surprised that Caitrin wouldn't just hand him his shirt. That would have been her being nice, and she was - as he had learnt the hard way - not wont to do. He was starting to feel self-conscious, which is something he didn't like at all. Richard de Calys did not feel self-conscious even if a mad redhead had stolen his shirt. He shifted slightly, not sure what he was trying to achieve, it wasn't like her view had been obscured at all. Over all this was not going well at all. It was a long held opinion of his that women should never be allowed near his clothes, and this situaution was just proof that he had been right.
He sighed. There was only one way he could think of to make Caitrin give in and that was to offer her something more fun in return. In this case "something more fun" would probably also mean "something lovely and humiliating." Oh joy. Still, it had to be better than leaving her to it. "What will it take to make you give my shirt back?"
It was embarrassing enough to have to ask that, and if he wasn't in so much damn pain and using most of his concentration just to keep himself awake and aware of his surroundings then he would have thought of a proper way to outsmart her. Unfortunately that wasn't an option right now.
"In fact, there might be some cuts and bruises on your leg that need tending to as well..."
There was no way in hell she was getting her hands on his trousers. He didn't care if his legs were about to fall off, there were some things that were just not going to happen. It had been bad enough when he'd had to take his shirt off and even then it was only because he knew if he didn't let her treat his wounds they would get infected. His legs, however, were an entirely different matter. They didn't need seeing at all, especially not by Caitrin. "You can keep well away from my legs thank you very much." He said firmly, not caring to find out whether she was joking or not. The removal of his clothing was not something to be joked about. It was something he put his foot down about, and firmly so. |
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Post by Richard de Calys on Jan 11, 2012 18:22:58 GMT -5
 The woman's demands seemed reasonable enough. He didn't have any particular knowledge about magic himself so he had no idea what they were for. Probably something not all that nice by the look of her. He could have told her that whatever she was planning was forbidden in Camelot - but presumably she already knew that, and it wasn't any of his business what she was planning. He had no particular loyalty to Camelot anyway. It made no difference to him who this woman was or what she wanted. Well, not after he'd been paid anyway.
He repeated the list in his head so as to remember it - he'd always had a good memory and this line of work only strengthened it. They shouldn't be that tricky to acquire, he knew people who dealt with such goods who owed him a favour, so that should save him a few coins. Speaking of coins, he wondered just how much "handsomely" meant. A woman such as her could have a fortune or nothing, he couldn't really tell. Personally he'd prefer the former, then again, not all payments had to be made with money. As he considered this his index and middle finger ran across his mouth and chin. Well, it was worth a try anyway. "Your requirements can be met easily, I assure you." He said with a tone that suggested the words were oft spoken. It was a natural response to keep his customers happy while he continued to think. "Now this payment you speak of...that is very interesting. My services are not cheap but if you cannot pay me with coin I am sure we could come to some sort of arrangement. I do so like being owed a favour."
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Post by Richard de Calys on Dec 30, 2011 21:07:20 GMT -5
Richard was sure she pressing harder on purpose now. He bit his lip to keep from making a noise. She might be doing him a good deed, but she was probably enjoying seeing him in pain and in her control as well. Bloody women. His back was yet to feel any better despite her tending to his wounds and although he knew if she didn't they could get infected, it didn't stop him wanting her to just stop and leave him alone. Before, it just burnt. Now it stung too. He was beginning to wonder whether all of this was actually worth the money.
He rolled his eyes at her reply. That had been him trying to be polite but it obviously hadn't been appreciated. A conclusion was being reached - one that told him that she was never going to be happy with anything he said to her. Well if she wanted to be like that fine. He wasn't going to be polite anymore. Hmm. But then he couldn't have the moral highground, and that was so much more satisfying. Fine. He was going to be polite and feel even better for her refusal to do the same. Ha. "You've been through a lot." He said simply, it would have been with a shrug too, had circumstances been different.
Thankfully, she'd done attacking his back with her cold hands so he pulled himself up into a sitting position. He wanted to lean back and let a tree or something take the strain of his weight, but that wasn't going to help his back in any way. It was times like these that he regretted not having as good posture as he should. He looked down at his chest, inspecting the bandages that had been tied around him. They didn't look like they were going to come undone any time soon. At least that was one less thing to worry about.
He reached out his hand to take his shirt back from her, only for her to continue her speech:
“Or maybe you shouldn’t, after all, I’m enjoying the view.”
Really? After all of this, everything he'd gone through she was still flirting with him? He didn't have the strength to argue with her anymore. He just wanted sleep and something to take the pain away, and enough money to make all of his troubles worth it. "Cait..." he began, his voice quieter and more strained than usual. His hand was still outstretched towards her, "Please can I have my shirt?" In any other situation he'd just argue and take it from her, but he was far too tired and just wanted to not be shirtless anymore. Why was that so much to ask? |
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Post by Richard de Calys on Dec 21, 2011 17:50:39 GMT -5
The situation was becoming any less uncomfortable, or at least it wasn't for Richard. Caitrin was probably enjoying this - not his having no shirt, although he wouldn't be surprised - but his being so obviously uncomfortable and yet having to simply put up with it. Any infection was starting to feel like the lesser of two evils. Her fingers were cold, something he hadn't been expecting and caught him by surprise. Well that was nice and embarrassing. Richard de Calys was jumping because of some woman have cold fingers. That could only heighten his reputation. "We'll call this one even." He replied. It was a strain to speak, but he'd rather force himself to talk than sit in silence, besides, hopefully a conversation would lighten the mood. And, perhaps more importantly, he was in this mess because he was trying to rescue her, so he thought he deserved some recognition for his troubles.
Although it was doing him good, Caitrin tending to his wounds just hurt. He tried not to wince, so he clenched his fists and bit his lip. That just hurt too. It seemed he couldn't win. And now her hand was on his waist. Was this entirely necessary? He didn't think it was. In fact, Richard was convinced it wasn't necessary and was only something she was doing to make him for uncomfortable. Was it such a hardship for her to be nice to him? As he'd thought - many times - they were only in this situation because he was trying to rescue her, the least she could do was clean out his wounds without putting her hands all over him.
"Oh I'm just fine and dandy." He forced out, it was an obvious lie but he didn't care. He was in too much pain for that. "What about you?" He tried turning his head round to look at her as he spoke, but not being an owl, it didn't work very well. He wouldn't be doing that again. |
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Post by Richard de Calys on Dec 21, 2011 6:52:25 GMT -5
Oh wow! That is fantastic! I LOVE IT! Thank you so much to whoever made it! |
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Post by Richard de Calys on Dec 8, 2011 16:11:47 GMT -5
Richard de Calys was not in the habit of being without a shirt in front of women. This was, perhaps, a little surprising when one took into account both his status and his sex. Needless to say, he was feeling rather exposed. And cold. And still in pain. This was only worsened when he had to move his arms, arms which really didn't want to move at all. He would be much happier if he could just lay there and not have to think about anything, and not have to listen to Caitrin's inevitable complaining because she was having to be nice to him. Well, it wasn't his fault he'd spent the last...God knows how long being tortured. It was Caitrin's, so she could be a little more gentle. "Ow!" Richard wasn't in the habit of making a fuss whenever he was in pain, with his line of work it was inevitable, but right now he deserved at least some sympathy. His back hurt a lot.
He could see Caitrin staring at him, something that really wasn't making him feel any better. This was horribly awkward and embarrassing enough without some overly lirtatious girl staring at him. He wasn't a very modest person - at least not with his own brilliance - but even he had limits, and this situation was definitely over them. And now he had to turn over. This was just getting better and better. He was never going after Caitrin again. The pain he was feeling and the embarrassment and discomfort at having to be half naked was never going to be worth whatever money Lord Rouland would give him. He slowly managed to turn over so he was lying on his side. This was going to get uncomfortable very quickly, but hopefully the pain would take his mind off it. What's more, when Caitrin started to clean his wound it would no doubt hurt even more, with some added stinging. What he wouldn't give to just be unconscious right now.
Caitrin's apology was rather unexpected, and despite himself he felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips. Even if her gratitude was a little late, he had to follow suit and ignore his own pride. This constant bickering was not going to get them anywhere, and he really didn't need to add a headache to his list of problems. "You're welcome. Fighting some bandits, saving the damsel in distress..." he coughed, and winced at the same time. Movement was definitely not a good idea right now. "Almost...All in a day's work really..." |
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Post by Richard de Calys on Nov 30, 2011 20:10:18 GMT -5
[/img][/center] If it didn’t hurt quite so much to talk, or breathe or generally be, Richard would have expressed his surprise at Caitrin’s words. She rescued them? That was irritating – no doubt he wouldn’t be hearing the end of that. He could tell as much from the smug look on her face. Well, it was all very well and good going around rescuing people, she wasn’t the one being tied up and beaten. If it had been the other way around then she would have been subject to a much prompter rescue mission, of that he was certain.
There was something rather embarrassing about being rescued by a woman, especially when you were Richard de Calys. This was going to be one of those times that was never spoken of, and if it was, it was going to be a heavily edited version involving hundreds of bandits with swords and all-sorts and Richard would no doubt come across as the dashing hero who let himself be rescued by the whiney damsel in distress because it would shut her up for five minutes. He chuckled to himself, and soon came to regret it when it made his chest, throat and back hurt even more. Ignoring the pain, he turned to his rescuer, because no doubt she wanted some kind of recognition, he managed to get out: “Well you took your time, didn’t you?”
If there was something Richard really didn’t want to do, it was take his shirt off. Not only was Caitrin going to be present, but she would probably be the one who would have to take it off, as he was in no state to do it himself. Obviously being beaten and tied up wasn’t torture enough. He’d never been shirtless in front of a woman before, so he was going to start with Caitrin de Archer. This was not going to end well. Couldn’t he just...not have his shirt off? He groaned. No, that was a stupid suggestion. He was fully aware what would happen if he didn’t have his wounds treated, so no matter how bad being shirtless in front of Caitrin was going to be, it wouldn’t be as bad as what could happen if he didn’t. “Fine...fine...” This was not going to be the most pleasant of experiences, of that he was certain. But there was nothing he was able to do about it, so he was just going to have to grin and bear it. Or rather glare and bear it. |
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Jul 22, 2013 15:15:56 GMT -5
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Post by Richard de Calys on Nov 29, 2011 19:32:18 GMT -5
We were going to have him waking up in camp, yes? Also, slight godmod of Cait, tell me if you want it edited.
This was beginning to become a habit. Was this the third time Richard had woken up in an entirely different place to that where he had lost consciousness? He wasn't one hundred per cent sure - he hadn't been keeping count, but it was certainly a higher number than he wanted. This was definitely an off day. As he slowly regained his senses the pain started returning. He couldn't exactly remember what had happened - another thing that appeared to be becoming a habit - all he was sure of was that his back was on fire and his head was about to implode. He opened a tentative eye. Last time he did this, he'd found himself face to face with a bandit. This time, however, there was a much - well, in comparison to a bandit - more pleasant sight. Caitrin de Archer was sat quite close to him. Well. This was confusing. The last time he saw her she was tied up. How on earth had she managed to escape? He slowly moved his head, which was probably not a very good idea at all - it appeared to be nearing sunrise and there wasn't a bandit in sight.
He tried, and failed, to sit up and so decided it was probably best to just remain lying where he was, wherever that was. He was in a forest, that much was obvious. He'd grown to detest this forest and right now wanted nothing more than to never set foot in it again. It was a stupid place where ridiculous things happened. The word would be a much better place without it. And it was cold. He shivered slightly and, on realised his cloak (his sadly ruined cloak) had been draped over him, pulled it up to his chin, wincing as he did. Movement would not be something he would be doing for a while. From where he lay he could just see Caitrin out of the corner of his eye. She didn't seem to be terribly distressed, that was odd. He would be fairly distressed if he were of the fairer sex. They weren't as good at coping with these things. "What happened?" He managed to force the words out, although his throat was dry and hurt far too much and made his voice harsh. "How, exactly, did we get here?" He would have raised an eyebrow, because, really, Caitrin was about as much use as, well, a woman, so how on earth had they ended up here? And, perhaps a rather more worrying question, what were they going to do next? He'd already been assualted, tied up and tortured...it couldn't possibly get any worse... |
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Jul 22, 2013 15:15:56 GMT -5
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Post by Richard de Calys on Nov 27, 2011 17:18:27 GMT -5
This was the second time today Richard was having a rather nice dream but was being brought back into the world with violence, and, if he was honest, he didn't much care for it. He would have said something, only he was too busy gasping and trying not to scream. It took him a few moments to get his breath back, and then a few more moments to remember just what was going on. He'd been taken by the two bandits away from Caitrin and then it all became a little fuzzy. All he remembered after that was pain. He was breath heavily, squinting in the darkness and trying to work out where he was and why his hands felt like they were floating.
"Back with us so soon? Maybe I didn't do it hard enough."
Slowly, Richard lifted his head to see the bandit grinning down at him. It was slowly coming back to him. His hands weren't floating at all. They were tied to two seperate branches above his head. Right. That was the first mystery solved, Richard thought, trying to get his head together. His back burnt, there was something trickling down the side of his face and it was a struggle to keep his eyes open and his head up. He just stared at the man for a moment or two, breathing heavily and then a grin managed to appear on his lips. "You do it as hard as you like, handsome." Calling the man handsome before had annoyed him, so Richard thought there was a rather good chance it would have the same effect now. It did. Clues to this included a fist to the stomach. Richard would have buckled over, but the ropes were keeping him upright and straining his arms in the process. The impact made him gasp and splutter, mingled blood and spit finding their way onto the bandit's shirt.
"Just do as we want and I'll release you."
"I've heard that one before." Richard managed between pants and coughs. He'd been in similar situations before, he'd always managed to get out of them then, he'd do it now. Besides, he had Caitrin to think of too. As fas as he knew she was still tied up wherever they had left her. He wasn't going through all of this not to get her back and get his money. "Twice as a matter of fact. Different contexts though." His throat was sore but Richard wasn't going to stop talking for anything. Right now, talking was the only thing he could do. And he thought he sounded rather good with a sore throat and consequently slightly husky voice.
"I won't ask again."
"I won't tell you at all." Richard said defiantly. He was not one to give into threats, even when his body was screaming at him to do so. He was Richard de Calys, his uncle was the king of Cantia. The man stood in front of him was just that - a man, of absolutely no consequence. And although he was still struggling to breathe, and although he could feel blood trickling down his back, down his face, from his lips, although he wanted this all to end, he had his pride. He'd die before he gave in. |
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Jul 22, 2013 15:15:56 GMT -5
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Post by Richard de Calys on Nov 27, 2011 13:36:31 GMT -5
Why, exactly, was he to blame for all of this? Alright, the rescue plan hadn't quite gone according to...well, plan, but that hardly his fault. Richard thought he'd done rather well, actually, considering his only asset was an almost empty vial of sleeping draught. For a brief moment he considered the possibility of using it against the bandits - it had knocked Caitrin out for quite some time. But he doubted there was enough for just one of them, and he wasn't in a position to administer it anyway. Somehow he doubted he do as he did with Caitrin, although he'd probably enjoy it more. His foot was tapping on the ground again as he thought. It was embarrassing how long it was taking him to come up with a plan. Usually he had at least three ways to get out of any situation. So why was this one so difficult? Well, he was currently tied to an annoying redhead with an attitude problem who still hadn't shown any sign of gratitude whatsoever. He didn't know why he bothered - apart from the money that is. He had definitely earnt enough to by himself his own castle, if not his own kingdom. That would be good. He would name it Richard. It would be the grandest kingdom in all the world. He chuckled softly to himself. It might not be getting them out of their current predicament, but thoughts of Kingdom Richard were certainly lifiting his spirits.
In another attempt to achieve some form of liberty, he wriggled again, but only managed to get himself into an even more uncomfortable position. How had he even done that? Impressively, that was how, as with most things he did in life. Meanwhile, Caitrin was complaining again. By now he was zoning in and out of their conversation. Nothing she had to say was progressive, so there wasn't much point in listening. He could tell she was moaning simply by the tone making the words irrelevant. "I don't have a plan, alright?" His voice was louder than he had been expecting, but he was too annoyed to care. Ever since Richard had been kidnapped too Caitrin had just complained and said it was his fault that they were here, but she hadn't tried to anything about it. She'd just expected him to. Everybody expecting him to be able to sort out every single little problem and he was sick of it. He was never allowed to just sit back and wait to be rescued. "I have no idea how we're going to get out of this. Are you happy now? I could have just left you here. I could be on my way to wherever the hell I wanted to go. You're just money, and not the only means either. All you've done is complain. Would you rather be here by yourself? So come on then. The great, strong, independant Caitrin de Archer - you wanted to be left alone, you wanted the world to treat you like the adult you so clearly are not. You can get us out of this. I have had en-"
There was a sound that to Richard was suspiciously like movement. He closed his eyes and bit his lip. Brilliant. He'd let his composure slip for one moment, and woken the bandits up. This was why he didn't let himself get emotional about things. Emotions made you make mistakes. And even though it was impossible to remain calm around Caitrin, he shouldn't have been so damn loud. He still had his eyes closed, so he wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but he could hear what he thought to be footsteps. And then there was the feeling of someone breathing down on him. He opened one tentative eye. "Oh...hello." The other eye opened. "Fancy seeing you here. Isn't that a coincidence?"
"I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you."
His hands strained against the ropes. He never spoke without hand gestures. This was all just wrong. "Well thankfully you're not. I'd never let my self-respect stoop that low." The next thing he was aware of was a fist colliding with his jaw. Naturally his head was thrown to the side and he gasped in both pain and shock. But Richard de Calys was (unsurprisingly) no stranger to a punch in the face. It would take a lot more than that to make him quiet. "Ow." He deadpanned before facing the bandit again. His jaw was burning and, from past experience, he knew speaking would only hurt more. To Richard that was just a price to be paid. "Well as much fun as this has been, can we go now? I presume you've searched us? You'll know we have nothing of value."
"Oh you're not going anywhere." The man grinned what Richard assumed was supposed to be a menacing grin. It wasn't quite there though.
"I had a feeling you were going to say that." He turned to Caitrin. "No sense of originality." Instead of another punch - which was something he had been expecting - he was pulled forward sharply, almost smacking his face against the ground. This was just weird. It got weirder. The bandit cut the rope. Finally! Hand gestures! He pulled himself up and grinned at Caitrin. See. This had clearly been the plan all along.
"On your feet, pretty boy."
Richard complied and started brushing dirt from his clothes. He assumed he was going to be taken somewhere. This wasn't the first time. "After you, handsome." This was when people made mistakes, and Richard was rather good at exploiting them. The man didn't say anything, or injure him. This was definitely unexpected. Instead he just grabbed Richard's arm and dragged him away from Caitrin. |
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