Mina_rrat’s Comments (group member since Jul 27, 2014)

Mina_rrat’s comments from the Medieval Times (Rp Group) group.

Was this woman seriously going to cry in front of her? Not good. She searched her brain for a possible solution, finding only... blankness. Writing a letter of application - what for? She didn't look like she was a defender, that was out. A library assistant? No. The only thing suitable was being a maiden, god knows the castle needed them like one may needed clothes, but she did not want her to go through the horror of being treated like garbage, she looked fragile enough. Whom did she know who would –
Before she even thought further, she had to know where she stood, ”What is your name and why would it save your life? Who is threathening you?!”

Cyra's eyebrows shot up to her hairline, ”A job?” She repeated. ”THAT's what you wanted to talk to me about? A job?!”
Sighing, she thought, I always get the easy ones, don't I.

”What job could I possible get you? I am nothing more than a simple scholar, I do not have much saying in things. Much to my dismay.”

How should she best explain her situation... ”Well. I do not work there precisely, but you can say I .. pay my services there. Why? What have you heard?”

(huh. being followed? an evil landlord?)

Like a well painted shadow did she stick to Cyra, never once leaving her alone. If Cyra had not know it was her, she would not have hesitated striking out, using her skills – somebody's presence right behind her always made her feel uneasy.
Having reached the shadows of the docks, she abruptly turned around, confronting the young lady. ”Spill. What do you need me for?” She never was one for being timid, being bold was one of her major character traits.

Cyra draped the cape back over her head again, ”We can stay on the docks, but let us wander over there to the section where the forest touches the water. There is enough blackness to swallow us whole at this early hour.”
Setting one foot in front of the other, she expected her to follow. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed the other woman's nervousness by the shakiness of her fingers. She looked ready to fall on her feet, curiosity has always gotten the better of her. Just like it does this time, she thought.

Shaking her head, Cyra looked to the sky, muttered, ”Why me.” to the sky and turned to the woman again. Thinking. She always had a soft spot for people asking for help, seems like it never vanished.
“Fine, ... ” she answered after she pondered her brain long enough, coming up with too many reasons not to do what she was planning to do to accept them, ”But first, let us get out of clear sight.”

(ha, I do find the irony very amusing)

After having waited long enough for Cyra to come up with two poems and the exact number of poets who died of drowning, she saw someone run towards her. She looked the woman up and down in one movement, red hair, plain dress like a servants and muddy eyes with a glint. This was the person who sent her the note? Was it… possible?

“What are you sorry for exactly?“ she asked a tad bit snippedly, she was not a mean person per se, but she needed to be sure to speaking to the right person. “Calling me out here in the middle of the night? Leaving me waiting for you? Or better yet: choosing a very well-known location so everybody is able to spot us?”

The dock stretched before her: silent, wooden and calming. One would not think it possible for a dock to be calming, but for Cyra the silence, only disturbed by the soft waves of the sea, gave her comfort. It calmed her mood, which needed a lot of calming lately. As a good student she never had any problems with her work, handing in assignments and spending her free time writing poetry, but in the last few months more people of her past emerged, making her uneasy. They thought she could not see them, the thought alone made her laugh – as they underestimated her completely. She might be 'out of the business' at the moment, nevertheless, her skills were still as sharp as ever.
The reason why Cyra strolled around the dock at four o'clock in the morning was a handwritten letter being pushed under her door last night. Normally it would not have piqued her interest, but the message and the shaky handwriting was off. Further, she could not help but be curious, she never had been a chicken. Leaving her to stroll the docks some more, thinking up rhymes, waiting for said somebody….

Ha, fine.

The dock? or tavern? both thurnston

I have Lady Cyra from Thurnston, Academic Scholar and jailer mercenary.

Deanna your character sounds fitting, do you want to rp with me? :)

okay

I may ask, but it is not definite whether I'll receive an answer? hm.. Why did you chose that name? To phrase it differently :) you do not have to tell me of course.

And it is one of the best!

@ Phantom. May I ask you why you chose that name?

*high five* People who understand sarcasm have much more fun. Most times.

There are great quotes about that. F.e.: My degree of sarcasm depends on your degree of stupidity.

Mean, but fitting.

Are you one of the black humor, sarcastic or gall humor kind of people? :)

Nothing's better than a good old portion of humor :D

Oh, I do believe you. We had them too, you probably worse than us, but our cellar DID get filled with water. It looked like a set of home-made-Niagara water falls...

Rain hasn't hurt anybody yet. Yet.
Here it is sunny, just saying ;)