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Post by leukristic on Jun 18, 2019 21:20:44 GMT -6
 Acheron of SeroraVasall always seems to be busy -- the hybrid city is awash with bustling bodies of Kawaru and visiting Serorans as the planting season stretches on, and he always has a smile for each passing face that joins him out in the fields. His blessing had been difficult, at first, as he had grown used to the blossom of warmth in his chest, the way his entire body seemed to lean into the magic as he coaxed the plants to grow beneath his watchful eye -- now, he’s learned how to harness his blessing from the Earth mother, and there are visible rows of crops and herbs growing as far as the eye can see.
Even with the blessing, it had been hard work. He finds that his legs ache more often now, beneath the cloth wrappings that hid the scars away, and even the soothing cream he’d brought from Sedo wasn’t working as well as it had been before. Usually, he’d ask Gladio for advice on how to reformulate the cream, but -- well, he was a long way away from home, and even if he could write a legible letter to his father, he’s not entirely sure Gladio would be able to read it.
(He’s not entirely sure his rudimentary handwriting is even legible, yet.)
When he goes to pass by Connor’s tent, however, he stops and perks up -- the kirin (and gods, that was still a weird concept) was the smartest person he knew amongst what seemed to be an entire city of way-smarter-than-him people. Surely he’d know something that could help, or would have a book of some sort on the subject that could possibly be borrowed? Not that he could read very well yet, but usually Conner was willing to help him figure out the really big words and the fancy medical terms that the Kawaru often used.
“Hey, Conner,” he calls towards the slightly-opened flap of the tent, shifting from hoof to hoof as he waits for an acknowledgment and possibly an invitation inside -- it would be rude to go in without one, after all. “--do you have a minute? I’m having trouble with one of my medicines.”
[363]
picture by warped-casual
Vasall, Sirith -- Early Dusk
for Conner -- set after Chapter 7
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Post by Silverfallingstar on Jun 19, 2019 21:03:35 GMT -6
Conner|Kuwaru Outcast
The sun was bright and warm today, Conner could tell. Despite not actually being able to see ignacios shining light, he could feel it from the way it heated up the rather large canvas tent he had set up outside in Vassal. His pearlesent purple teke flipped the page of the book he was reading, before he picked up the quill again and began writing what it said on a piece of paper next to him. It was an exercise for him, practice for both his ability to understand this new language and return his handwriting to its former quality thousands of years ago. He would have much preferred to do such outside, and feel the suns heat without the canvas barrier, and had a few times. However, such excursions usually led to more wary glances from the breimian population than he liked, so inside his tent and away from prying eyes he went.
He was content with that, to a degree. The muffled noises of the activity outside made decent white noise when added to the quiet scratches of the feather quill, and eased his mind from thinking about why he was here. He picked up a scrap piece of paper and quickly scribbled a note to talk to Reid about that later, and stuck it to one of the tent poles so he wouldn't forget. That was still a question he wanted answered, but he hadn't gotten around to finding out in the almost three months since arriving here. He sighed and settled back down to his practice. He was so absorbed in his work he didn't catch the noises of someone approaching his tent.
Hearing his name caused him to look up from his book. He couldn't quite see Acheron from the crack in the tent flap, but he recognized his voice and saw a familiarly shaped shadow. He adjusted the glasses on his face before standing up with a grunt. His lion tassel brushed the ground as he approached the tent and stuck his head out, slitted pupils going almost paper thin from narrowing in the bright light of the setting sun. The common horse was one of the few non-kirin that Conner could say he actually enjoyed the company of. It's not that he hated the others, but it was hard to do more than just tolerate a people who actively hated your species. Though, he remembered with a pang, they had every right to.
"I'm not a doctor by any means Acheron, but come in, I'll see what books I have on hand."
He turned around with a flick of his tail and quickly picked up his work on the floor from only minutes earlier and stacked it neatly on a pile of history books. He opened up a trunk that rested against the side of the tent and began reading some of the titles on the spines that stared up at him. Conner made a few grunting noises as he considered what he saw before pulling out a couple books he assumed would probably start him off in the right direction. He sat down on the rug he'd ordered and placed down in lieu of a proper table, the books in front of him as he began reading.
"What kind of medicine? You don't seem like the chronic illness type, were you sick recently?"
Post 1|WC: 561
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Post by leukristic on Jun 21, 2019 9:36:11 GMT -6
Acheron of Serora It was still strange to see Conner, sometimes. For most of his childhood, kirins had been a myth, a remnant of history told in stories about the Sky Mother and her role in the God’s War. He hadn’t thought that he would ever really have the chance to meet one -- they had all died generations back, after all. Yet, he he was, smiling up at the older kirin as he poked his head out of the tent.
None of the legends had ever really prepared him for how pretty their scales were, though, or how the slitted eyes could be just slightly off-putting when they caught the light just right -- he ended up just staring for a moment at the iridescent scales across Conner’s back as he followed the kirin into the tent, wondering how exactly the kirins grew those scales to be such vibrant colors. Or maybe it was just Conner? The stories had never mentioned exactly what the scales had looked like on the ancient kirins, just that they had them.
“---it’s a cream, meant for old injuries that scarred over sensitive areas such as the joints.” He keeps his eyes fastened on the books that Conner has splayed out across the rug, feeling the way his front legs ache beneath the bandages wrapped tightly around them. He’s always diligent with the wrapping -- no need to subject anyone else to the ugly sight that was the burned flesh of his forelegs, not when it would invariably be followed by pitying looks, or the way people would assume he had somehow caused Ignacio’s wrath.
Perhaps if Ignacio’s wrath took the form of a neglectful mother and a campfire -- but he doubted it. The fire god had far better things to do with his time than dabble with the Sky Mother’s mortals for fun, he was sure.
“It’s a mild painkiller, along with some herbs to encourage the skin to relax… although those have never really worked, if I’m being honest with you.” Gladio had always sworn by them, and he hadn’t had the heart to tell his father that they really didn’t do anything besides make the affected area smell like chamomile. Perhaps in someone less affected?
[368]
picture by warped-casual
Vasall, Sirith -- Early Dusk
for Conner -- set after Chapter 7
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Post by Silverfallingstar on Jun 25, 2019 16:40:10 GMT -6
Conner|Kuwaru Outcast
Conner nodded quietly. Listening to how Acheron described the medicine in question. It only just now struck him as curious that the sand herd's, ahem, the serorans, version of a doctor was coming to him, an inventor of gadgets and technological things, for information about medicine. Then again, he reasoned, he was the one with all the books and the more superior reading ability, while serora had quite an unfortunate lack of books.
Cream... Could be under that, Or would it be under Salve... Balm maybe Or just general painkillers? Bah, medicine is so complicated. Best to check all of them. He thought to himself as he flicked through the pages. At one point he got up and shuffled through some of his loose papers he had, plucking out a few small ones and returning to the books on the ground. He began sticking pieces of paper between certain pages to act as bookmarks, before shutting the first book and setting it to the side. He was about to pick up the second book when he noticed that Acheron was still standing there, and he raised his eyebrows from under his bronze rimmed glasses.
"You should really sit down, if your painkiller isn't working I can't imagine standing feels great- here." he used his teke to pull one of the cushions from his cot over to where the two of them were and set it down. It was hard to tell if his declaration was out of genuine concern or just a matter of fact statement, maybe it was both. He tapped the cushion a few times with a hoof as a way to say he wasn't about to take no for an answer and set the book he'd finished next to the cushion. "I'm no doctor, but I marked each of the mentions of medical creams and similar items that said they treated pain. Maybe you'll find what you need there. I'll keep looking through these others just in case." He then went back to the second book, adding more pieces of loose leaf as he went.
Post 2|WC: 348
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Post by leukristic on Jun 30, 2019 20:43:05 GMT -6
Acheron of Serora He finds himself peering curiously at the books that Conner begins to sort through, managing to catch a few words that he knows on each page. Most of the books that Conner has are far above his own ability to decipher, and he hadn’t even considered going to anyone else -- the other Kawaru often seemed busy rushing back and forth, far too busy for someone who could barely read to bother, but Conner… well, he still felt like a bit of a bother for the kirin, but at least Conner didn’t actively make him feel like an idiot for not being able to read, or for not understanding the larger words that the Kawaru doctors often used.
He felt comfortable around Conner, at least, comfortable enough that when a cushion is offered, he has no problems settling upon it, careful not to scrape his bandaged legs against the dirt floor. “It is what it is,” He offers with the smallest shrug, accustomed to the pain that comes from standing for long periods of time -- and with all the hours that he spends out in the fields, the pain has become almost constant, no matter how many times he applies the healing salve.
He’s starting to regret not bringing any peyote with him, honestly, at least then he wouldn’t mind the pain so much.
He reaches over to take the offered book with a murmured word of thanks, opening it up to one of the bookmarked pages and peering down at the words inked onto the page. He can maybe make out every couple of words, head tilting to the side and ears pressing back against his crest as he attempts to mentally sound out the words that he’s not quite sure of.
“Hey, Conner, what’s...core--core-ee-dahl-- Yknow, I’m not even entirely sure if I can say this, actually, much less read it.”
[314] picture by warped-casual
Vasall, Sirith -- Early Dusk
for Conner -- set after Chapter 7
this is what he's struggling with -- it has compounds that can be used for pain relief
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Post by Silverfallingstar on Jul 5, 2019 15:13:41 GMT -6
Conner|Kuwaru Outcast
He'd begun humming a quiet tune to himself as he was skimming through pages, which stopped abruptly when Acheron asked him a question. "A common problem with longer words, its easy for your tongue to not articulate properly. You'll get it in time." he said, craning his neck over to see what word the common horse was having problems with. He realized his mistake of trying to read a language he was only semi-fluent in upside down, but he wasn't about to adjust his position. So in compromise he lowered his glasses down his snout with his teke and squinted. He ran the word over a few times in his head, lips twitching as he quietly mouthed the word to himself.
"The word you're looking for is Corydalis. You were pretty close, Cor-y-dal-is is how it's pronounced. Seems like its a plant that can be mixed with other things to be used as a pain reliever. I think next to that is a small map showing where it can be found, did you learn how to read maps?" He asked, tapping the small square next to the block of text with a hoof before retracting back into his original position.
He waited for Acheron to respond. Honestly it still baffled him to this day that Serorans couldn't read. What kind of culture worth it's salt didn't even have scrolls? Those were easier to transport than books. It had been explained to him that they used very simple signs and in some cases, sign language. The latter he could see uses for, but just simple signs and no words? An entire herd of illiterate? He just didn't understand.
Which is probably why he warmed up to Acheron so quickly. Here was a stallion who desired to learn what his herd didn't care to. To expand his horizons beyond what he'd been initially taught, it was somewhat of a shared goal he figured. Though Conner had a much larger road ahead than Acheron. Not that he would ever admit it.
Post 3|WC: 338
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Post by leukristic on Jul 5, 2019 19:30:38 GMT -6
Acheron of Serora “Corydalis,” He sounds out carefully, scrunching up his nose at how the syllables tripped over his tongue, and he almost doesn’t catch the rest of what Conner says. For a moment, he simply stares at the kirin, head tilted slightly to the side at the question -- of course he knew how to read a map! Although… perhaps Alya’s children hadn’t been quite so nomadic when Conner had first lived? Maybe he simply didn’t realize how useful a map could be to the average desert horse. “All Serorans know how to read a map from childhood, since most of us are nomadic. Screamers -- our scouts -- are in charge of making and marking the maps with their symbols. Those same symbols are left in the same places as they’re marked on the map, often times symbolizing danger or a better path.”
He reaches out with light blue teke, gently grasping a charcoal pencil and a scrap of parchment paper, and begins to draw in wide, sweeping lines. Several shapes take form in dark charcoal -- the rough shape of a Quetzalcoatlus track, the moving waves of water, a rough rendition of how a Screamer would arrange rocks to signal a better way forward -- before his gaze turns back towards Conner with a small smile. “These are some of the symbols that the Screamers use. Then, when they meet up with a Windracer or a Trader on their travels, they send copies of their maps to Osulas, where they’re archived in the Council library.”
He goes quiet for a moment, ears laying back along his head and gaze dropping to the floor instead. “Well…. they did, before Osulas was destroyed in the war.” The news of the treaty had reached him, and yet -- he still feels hollow, aching at the unfair terms that his herd has been bound to, and he cannot help but worry that his family and friends might still fall to harm should Aodh decide to renege on their deal.
[339]
picture by warped-casual
Vasall, Sirith -- Early Dusk
for Conner -- set after Chapter 7
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