July 2012

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About

"Can you not live unless you were born for some purpose?"

This is a roleplaying journal for Van Grants from the game Tales of the Abyss.

Profile

faterecanted: (Default)
Van Grants

[sticky entry] Sticky: HMD/Directory Post

Sep. 6th, 2011 06:06 am
faterecanted: (Default)
Directory


HMD

IP logging off, anon enabled, all comments screened. You can also catch me at t3hloupe on aim, if you're so inclined.
faterecanted: (whutno)
[It's probably a peaceful enough day, as Luceti goes. Maybe people are out looking through the shops. Maybe they're strolling through the plaza. Maybe they're sitting on the edge of the fountain, reading a book or having a snack.

Maybe there's a 6'2", 180 lb man in new feather pants being dropped into the fountain from a height of, oh, about 3.14 feet.

Wait, what?

Van is falling. That doesn't surprise him, it's exactly what he should be doing; except then he blinks, or thinks he does, and instead of purple and glow, there is blue sky. He has the barest of moments to register confusion over this development, and then he hits the water ass first. Shortly followed by the bottom of the fountain which, for the record, is hard. He's not feeling any better about the day he's had so far, either, now that it also includes being doused and viciously spanked by an inanimate object.

He may need a few moments to sort out what just happened to him.

Handily, that's about how long it takes for his regular clothes and journal to follow after, and land in the general vicinity of on his head and also his ruined pride. In case he needed a reminder that his boots are really heavy.]


What? [What else can a man possibly say in a situation like this?]


[Somewhat later, after he has recovered from his terrible butthurt, better remembered where this even is, and maybe picked up a change of clothes that isn't soggy, he will squelch over to his house. Oh, house 47, he barely knew you. He hopes it's still his house, because if it isn't someone's getting a terrible surprise when he barges on in through the front door and leaves puddles all the way to the laundry and shower.]
faterecanted: (totally innocent)
[action, for Nephry only] )


[Around mid-morning, there will be a sight potentially very disturbing to those familiar with both people involved: Van and Nephry, strolling down the riverbank, looking rather... cozy. He's actually offered her his arm. Which she has taken, without even hesitating to think about it. It isn't some sort of formal escort situation, either - she's leaning in, just enough to be conspicuous.]

I don't see any reason to tell them. [He actually laughs.] Not yet. I'll be your dirty little secret. Doesn't every politician have a few?

[Her return laugh is brighter than any of her friends might have heard in a long time.] Secrets of the state are usually less...incriminating. I do try to be honest. I suppose...just this once isn't going to hurt anyone. [Might help - she knows a person or four who wouldn't be pleased with this new arrangement.]

[He stops and pulls her closer, leaning in in a way that should be menacing, given just who it is doing it; but his expression is soft, and when he speaks, his voice is low and gentle with good humor.] Incriminating? ...That's one word for it. But not here. Not now.

No. [Ordinarily, being this close to the man who nearly succeeded in destroying her world would be something to fear. There is no fear, or even caution, in this smile.] This is...different.

[With a sigh, he wraps both arms around her, tightly. It's perhaps a bit forward of him... but then Van has always been bad about staying in his proper place.] Perhaps 'different' is what we all need in our lives.

[Now being an excellent time for someone to interrupt them and let them know their private conversation is being broadcast. Before they do something awful, like get even cozier and more contemplative.]

(OOC: Joint post! If you have a preference for which one of these unlikely lovebirds replies, please note it in the subject line. Otherwise, there's no telling who you may get. Remember to drive carefully, now, and watch for falling threadjacks.)

[Voice]

Jan. 6th, 2012 12:23 pm
faterecanted: (put. the pow hammer. down.)
[The first thing that appears in the journal is a big, thick ink smudge, sort of like it's been fingerpainted by large, clumsy hands -- because it has.]



[A few moments later, when it becomes clear it just isn't going to happen, Van speaks. His voice is a rough, dry croak. Either he hasn't spoken in weeks... or he's overused it to the point of ruin.]


Tear. ...Tear.

[A bit later still, when he realizes he's drifting off and he does not want to pass out--]

What day is it? [Not that the answer will mean anything to him, thrice-damned nonsense calendar.]


(OOC: Reluctant first aid reserved for Tear, but feel free to answer him. He'll talk, he just won't accept help from anyone else.)

[Voice]

Dec. 3rd, 2011 02:11 am
faterecanted: (do tell)
Filtered to Abysscast // 100% )

[ Filtered to clinic staff // 100% ]

Are there any doctors here with specialist knowledge of toxins?

[ end filter ]

If a man wanted to find productive employment in this village, where might he begin looking? Pay is obviously impossible, but I'm willing to work for personal satisfaction and perhaps a favor or two later.

I have twelve years of service as a military officer, and a decade of experience in sword instruction. I've been told I'm also a fair cook, and a talented musician. I can play the piano; and the pipe organ, though I doubt this village has one available.
faterecanted: (I love it when they're stupid)
[Van is having a rough time of it today. First he woke up to find that there had been some alterations while he was sleeping. What should be normal human ears have been replaced by cat ears. Big, fuzzy cat ears, which are apparently highly mobile. They're currently spending most of their time pinned back against his skull in displeasure.

And that's to say nothing of the tail.

Not only that, but when he was getting dressed, he found a pair of boots that he was certain weren't his. Oh, but they were very nice boots. The leather was so soft, and they had such nice trim, and... But no. He was not going to wear someone else's boots. Except... he just... couldn't... resist...

And the minutes those boots were on came the absolute certainty that someone out there in that village needed him. There were problems that needed solving, and only his wit, charm, cunning, and deviously underhanded trickery could possibly do! That and amazing footwear.

If only he knew whose problems they were.

No matter! He has a job to do, and a silly little thing like not knowing what it is is not enough to stop Vandesdelcat Musto Fende! He will search the entire village, stop everyone on the street, until he finds his beloved Mast-

...Something is not right here.

Nevertheless, he is compelled. He cannot resist it, no matter how he tries. He will indeed stop everyone he meets on the street, searching for that one person whose bidding he must do. Is it you?]


Excuse me! Wait! Is there something you need help with? Something that requires... cunning?

[Little does he know... it's not just one person.

It's everyone.]

[action]

Sep. 14th, 2011 02:53 pm
faterecanted: (back)
[It's been a few days since Van arrived, under less than ideal circumstances. During that time, he felt it was probably wisest to remain incommunicado. The easiest way to assure the others from Auldrant that he was doing nothing threatening was to appear to be doing nothing threatening; and he wasn't... strictly speaking. For the most part, all he'd done was study Ms. Sage's guide -- no, memorized it. He'll have to thank her, if they ever meet. She provided him with so much valuable information; including a list of exploitable thugs.

Someone should really do something about that.

But as enlightening as Ms. Sage's writings are, man cannot live on words alone. The supplies he gathered after leaving Asch and Luke's building (...and later returning to it) were starting to run out. He wasn't particularly thrilled with the clothes he'd grabbed, either. He'd rather not wear his Oracle uniform all the time, and the rest were a bit... lacking. He'd like to think he was a striking, well-dressed man; and appearances were so important to a favorable first impression. He'd get to that later in the day. And then the library, perhaps. It was always an advantage to have more information. His first stop, though, was something he could no longer put off: the medical facilities in the battle dome. He'd have to hope he could find what he needed there.

Despite his long list of errands (and the vague concern that he'll run into people he knows and would rather not deal with yet), he'll be perfectly willing to exchange a few words with anyone else out and about. In fact, he'll make sure to at least make eye contact and give a polite nod to every person he sees. The charisma is turned up to 11 today.]


For Dist, written that evening. )

(TL;DR: Meet him in the library, the clothing shops, the battle dome, on the street... And fill this out if you would, plz)