[In Eorzea, Irhya was quick to drop the conjurer nonsense for a giant fucking sword and a more comfortable philosophy no sweat, even though it came with a host of bizarre trauma and guilt issues later. It was the principle of the thing that won her over.
Here, things seem to be... a little different. She finds she doesn't dislike the grungy sounds of electric guitars, but godsdamn it, not when she's trying to speak to someone--]
Twelve's sake.
[She has a claymore already and she damn well knows how to use it. With surprising accuracy for such an unwieldy and heavy weapon, she skewers the guitar one of them is holding and chucks the remains off somewhere, pointing the tip at the former player's neck after that.]
Stand up. It's time for a history lesson, kids. The dark knights of Ishgard were better than this. Sure, their lives sucked, probably more than yours do, but do you think they complained when the clergy started cheating the system, screwing over their fellow man in the process? Who do you think was brave enough to stand up to such egregious abuses of power, even when only threats of revenge and trial by combat and death existed in their futures?
[Everyone's staring. The guy with the sword at his neck is a little pale now.]
If this looks like the bard's guild to you where we sing campfire songs over our problems, mayhap you need to find a better trade. We ought to have an appetite for blood, sweat, and tears every single day.
[...So maybe a little of that edgy grimdark is seeping in without her realizing. Just a bit. Whoops.]
B: Lavode - White Mage's Guild
[At least the white mages have some semblance of responsibility. It reminds her of Gridania, of home, in a sense, but... Irhya still has a fair bit of trepidation. Hospital environments are high-stress and full of death, which may suit her in some sense, but for all the good she'd done healing people previously, she has to wonder if her work as a dark knight reaping so many lives outweighs that.
She's just watching the chiurgeons and healers move around, doing their work, until one of them grows frustrated with her presence and drops a piece of gauze in her hand, shouting, "If you're just going to stand there, at least make yourself a useful pair of hands and put pressure on this person's wound!"]
What? I--
[She's more than a little flustered, not having expected to be roped into things. There are other initiates instructed to do various small tasks flitting about, and she can't help but cast a deer-in-headlights look at them.]
Hey. Hey! Listen to me! I wasn't--
[But the chiurgeon is having none of it, completely ignoring her with a stony expression. Irhya sighs and does as she's told, because damned if this person doesn't have a puncture wound to the midsection, at any rate.]
It's been so long since I've done this, I couldn't possibly...
Irhya Pendhula | OTA
[In Eorzea, Irhya was quick to drop the conjurer nonsense for a giant fucking sword and a more comfortable philosophy no sweat, even though it came with a host of bizarre trauma and guilt issues later. It was the principle of the thing that won her over.
Here, things seem to be... a little different. She finds she doesn't dislike the grungy sounds of electric guitars, but godsdamn it, not when she's trying to speak to someone--]
Twelve's sake.
[She has a claymore already and she damn well knows how to use it. With surprising accuracy for such an unwieldy and heavy weapon, she skewers the guitar one of them is holding and chucks the remains off somewhere, pointing the tip at the former player's neck after that.]
Stand up. It's time for a history lesson, kids. The dark knights of Ishgard were better than this. Sure, their lives sucked, probably more than yours do, but do you think they complained when the clergy started cheating the system, screwing over their fellow man in the process? Who do you think was brave enough to stand up to such egregious abuses of power, even when only threats of revenge and trial by combat and death existed in their futures?
[Everyone's staring. The guy with the sword at his neck is a little pale now.]
If this looks like the bard's guild to you where we sing campfire songs over our problems, mayhap you need to find a better trade. We ought to have an appetite for blood, sweat, and tears every single day.
[...So maybe a little of that edgy grimdark is seeping in without her realizing. Just a bit. Whoops.]
B: Lavode - White Mage's Guild
[At least the white mages have some semblance of responsibility. It reminds her of Gridania, of home, in a sense, but... Irhya still has a fair bit of trepidation. Hospital environments are high-stress and full of death, which may suit her in some sense, but for all the good she'd done healing people previously, she has to wonder if her work as a dark knight reaping so many lives outweighs that.
She's just watching the chiurgeons and healers move around, doing their work, until one of them grows frustrated with her presence and drops a piece of gauze in her hand, shouting, "If you're just going to stand there, at least make yourself a useful pair of hands and put pressure on this person's wound!"]
What? I--
[She's more than a little flustered, not having expected to be roped into things. There are other initiates instructed to do various small tasks flitting about, and she can't help but cast a deer-in-headlights look at them.]
Hey. Hey! Listen to me! I wasn't--
[But the chiurgeon is having none of it, completely ignoring her with a stony expression. Irhya sighs and does as she's told, because damned if this person doesn't have a puncture wound to the midsection, at any rate.]
It's been so long since I've done this, I couldn't possibly...