• Closed • I'm Bored (Peake Andaris)

[Leeson Andaris]

17th of Saun, 716th Arc

"I've been thinking a bit, I guess." Leeson confessed.

In his hands, held gingerly and carefully before his face, was a small reptile. Its cherry-spotted head poked out from beneath its shell and looked at the boy who held it. The warm air would have usually made Kepler much rowdier, but tortoises could only become so energetic. Today Kepler was quiet, and frankly, it seemed, a bit somber.

Or that's how Leeson saw it.

Leeson tended to overpersonify his pet tortoise. To his own admission, he gave the tortoise more character than he had allowed himself to gain. Probably because Leeson didn't have many friends.

He had a tortoise though. That was good, right?

The tortoise blinked slowly at him, and retreated back into his reptilian abode.

It was actually a little worse. Not better.

"I know I say this a lot Kepler but I think I speak to you too much." He said. Sadly, completely honestly. "Other than you, I don't have much going for me."

He shifted his hands as so that Kepler's shell lay on his open palm, and stroked the top side of the little thing with his off hand. Despite being told otherwise by many many people who most likely knew tortoises and how to take care of them far more aptly than Leeson, he was thoroughly convinced that Kepler deeply indulged in being pet.

"Everything just seems so... Bland." He confessed. As he did so the walking road to his direct left continued to bustle with people. A trio of ants carried the better part of some small pastry across the stone fence Leeson sat himself on. A few birds flew overhead, basking themselves in the great light of the beautiful day that they had been lucky enough to experience. "So tasteless. Don't you think?"

Kepler, who was a tortoise and therefore most definitely incapable of the level of comprehension of most human beings, and could not as a result typically respond to something whilst relaying any level of sarcasm, looked at Leeson with the same blank and humorless expression that any person in their right mind would have given Leeson if they had the misfortune of hearing his woes. Uncanny.

"You know, Kepler, out of however long we've had the pleasure of knowing each other I just noticed that you give me pretty much the same face every time I try to confess my feelings to you."

Kepler continued his long stare. Doing so in just a way that, somehow, motivated Leeson to take a deep sigh, hop off the stone fence, hold his pet with two hands, and merge himself with the foot traffic that consumed Andaris that particular afternoon. He swung his satchel around to the front of his body, placed the small figure inside, made sure it was secure, and continued his journey in what he had assured himself was the absolute sunniest portion of the road, so that Kapler could get the most warmth. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets, and braved onwards.

A single man. Alone in the big city. A bored, somewhat apathetic man. With a quest. To do something. Braving the natural challenges he may face to entertain himself. With no plan.

What is Leeson going to do today?

[Peake]

From behind, Peake’s heavy arm flew towards Leeson’s head, aiming to smack his sibling with enough force to perhaps wake him up into reality. The Ouroboro Guard was not in the mood to properly greet his brother, as seen by his ever-present frown, his watermelon-scented beard, and the wide open eyes that begged for some sleep. Despite the turtle-loving sibling being off the leash in terms of heritage or lineage, he was still an Andaris, and Peake wanted to make sure he remembered that.

What do you think you’re doing lollygagging in the middle of the war!?” Peake yelled out, to which most eyes of the busy street laid not only on his armor, but the man inside it as well. “You’re an Andaris, so act like it!”
There was no war going on around them, but it was surely coming. Peake had heard the news: Veljorn’s army was on the move. Because of this, it wasn’t only Peake that went into a sudden berserk, moving documents and shooting orders frenetically. Those with power pulled the strings and created an orchestra of favors, of unpredictable results that was making maintaining order almost impossible.

“Come on, you’re coming with me!” Said Peake, as he took Leeson by the neck and dragged him along, moving down the street at an alarming speed. The iron-clad strides clashed against the cobblestone below, battle drums that cleared a way for the two. “You’ll see what’s going on while you’re out on a date with your damn tortoise!”

Peake and Leeson’s relationship was complicated. Although Peake loved his brothers, he was secluded from a young age between books, responsibilities and expectations to fulfill, eventually perhaps damaging the relationship between all three brothers. These relationships perhaps fell apart completely once their mother died, the one woman that kept the family together. Each went their own way, chasing after whatever it was they chased, which perhaps ended whatever relationship they had in the past. For Peake, Leeson was still his youngest brother, and the little devil he had loved mentoring on his youth. He never taught him anything about politics, about mathematics or laws, but his mentoring was in a different way: how to approach women, how to win their heart, and how to properly trim one’s beard. Leeson may have ignored some of these, but Peake did not mind: Leeson was still his brother, and in his mind, their relationship was in the same point as they left it arcs ago.

Because of this, their encounters were rather unceremonious, like on this occasion. There were no hugs, no handshakes nor vows. A simple smack served as a greeting, a loud reprimand as small talk. Although Peake would normally let his brother get away with laziness, this occasion was different. A war was coming, and even if Peake knew it could be stopped, he was still worried. Everything was a big unknown, a question mark drawn in the skies, which made him wonder if this could be the last time they would have some time to spend together. A whore and a barrel of wine would be better to honor their blood bond, yet Peake’s whores were politicians these days, and his wine was the piss he had to swallow by dealing with diplomacy on a daily basis. Leeson needed to suffer that with him.

“Come on. We’re going to pay a visit to the Iron Hand’s leadership.”

Thanks to Lazuli for this amazing template!

[Leeson Andaris]

Leeson choked on his own breath, for a femptotrill, he wished he hadn't caught it. He could tell right away who exactly had decided to ruin his day. It always began this way. A knock over the head, a shove in the back, a fart to the face. It happened all too often. Leeson's brother was brass. He was crude. He was mean. And for some reason he thought Leeson enjoyed this kind of greeting. But, seeing as Peake was more physically capable than Leeson, the boy had little choice in the matter and just went along with whatever Peake decided to torment him with.

"What do you think you're doing lollygagging in the middle of a war!?" Peake yelled. It had been a while since Leeson had last encountered his dear brother. So fortunate for him that it had begun with Peake screaming in is unprepared face.

"Enjoying myse-"

"You're an Andaris, so act like it!" He continued.

Peake said that more than Leeson would be comfortable with. So much so that he wondered what being an Andaris meant. Most likely growing some peculiar form of facial hair and abusing women every other day.

"Come on, you're coming with me." The goliath of a man grunted out before grabbing Leeson by the back of his neck and dragging him to essentially wherever he wanted.

Luckily for Leeson, it wasn't a terribly long journey. They had turned a couple corners before Leeson could begin to make out the nearly damningly alarming echo of what he could only assume to be the worst job for any kind of musician.

Battle drums.

"You'll see what's going on while you're on a date with your damn tortoise!" He promised.

"I don't know what you have against Kepler! He's really a very nice tortoise!" Leeson whined, struggling to make himself heard as he was dragged between lines of soldiers, standing at attention. Just what he'd expect from Peake. Such a showman.

"Come on. We're going to pay a visit to the Iron Hand's leadership."

Oh. Okay.

Just you know.

No big deal.

"Peake, I'm um... I'm nearly seventy percent positive I have nothing to offer you in this particular uh... Business. I suppose." Leeson reasoned. "I-... I have no military experience, I haven't done anything with my work, I don't think I even know who the leader is, I don't-... I don't think I have a choice in the matter, but you should probably know just how useless I am in this scenario."

Leeson thought on it.

"You probably already know." He sighed.

"Thanks for taking me to work today I guess"

[Peake]

Peake let go of his brother’s neck as the vast formations began appearing in the plaza, which separated mid-town and low-town with its colossal gates. There, men and women stood firm, donned in their finest plates, the hundreds of wardens – a high military rank, just above captain – displaying not only the banners of the realm but also its strength, its presence serving as a reminder of the duty of every citizen. Many commoners stood on the sides, watching it all from streets and windows, astonished by the military display. The battle drums echoed through the city, and the plaza itself was so deafening even Peake couldn’t hear his heavy footsteps.
“Stay close!” Yelled Peake as he glanced over his shoulder towards Leeson.

Not even the two suns present in the season of Saun, with their unbearable heat, could break the stiffness of every warden present in the power display of the plaza, each standing tall and proud as they listened to the ominous orchestra beat their instruments with force. These displays were needed to increase morale, not only for the men and women that would fight in this unwanted war, but also for those who wouldn’t. Morale was not something one could ignore, as it was the difference between standing and dying for one’s beliefs or routing and fleeing for one’s life. Everyone had to fight, and everyone had to die if it was required.
Both brothers made their way through the formation, the space between warden and warden enough for them to walk without bumping into anyone. They were ignored by these soldiers, whose chin was lifted high and their eyes stared into the nothingness, their bodies mere statues as their minds were slowly building the foundation of their strength. They were disconnected from the world. Peake was not, as his cynical attitude was the stamp of his existence and his biggest characteristic.

After reaching the walls, Peake and his brother passed two guards that saluted as they were passed, entering one of the fortifications that lead to the watchtower, a spiral of stairs standing between top and bottom. Peake went first, obviously. As the stone numbed the sound of the drums, Peake took the occasion to speak.
“You watch and you learn. Try to understand what’s going on, and you can learn how true diplomacy works. Oh, and anything you hear up there is strictly classified. You share a word with someone and I’ll feed your cock to the turtle. ” Peake scoffed. “Then I’ll cook the turtle and serve it to Quincy.”

Soon enough, the stairs came to an end, Peake already breathing heavily as he had to carry not only his glorious beard and muscle mass, but the heavy armor as well. Upstairs awaited the watchtower, whose windows were closed at the side of the plaza but opened on the opposite direction, so that the sound was avoided but the soft breeze was still present. Three men awaited inside, surrounding a large and round wooden table filled with maps and various pieces that represented military and civilian assets.
“Right, let’s get started.” Announced Peake as soon as he was in the room, without any formalisms. “Leelee, this is Lord Komodo,” Peake pointed towards a smiling man with a gorgeous mustache. “Lord Bricer,” Peake pointed towards an old man that had tried his best to cover his obvious baldness. “… and Lord Buromir.” Peake pointed to the last man, a man whose expression resembled a man squishing his intestines in the latrine, or a man who ate an extremely sour lemon.
“This is my youngest brother Leeson and his girlfriend, the turtle. They’ll stand aside and be quiet, and hopefully they’ll learn something. And before you say it, yes, I am authorizing them to be present in this meeting. Let’s get started already.”

The Lords exchanged a few glances with each other, and with Leeson, before Peake made its way to the table and immediately pointed at the plane of lowtown.
“So, low-town. What have you decided?” Asked Peake.
“Low-town is a no go. The streets are too narrow to organize any major defense, and the area is too wide to effectively organize the troops.” Said Komodo, pausing for a moment. “We can organize some fortifications and barricades, maybe start a few fires to block the streets, but we can’t do much more.”
“We can burn it.” Interrupted Lord Bricer. “We stack these houses,” he pointed to the buildings surrounding the mid-town gates, buildings that could be seen just by looking out the window. “with alcohols and set them on fire. If the rebels make it to the gates, it will slow them down.”
“Wouldn’t the fire spread throughout low-town?” Asked Peake.
“It most likely will. It’s likely that the whole north-western section will be consumed by the fire in a matter of breaks.” Said Bricer.

A tense pause.

“How many casualties?” Asked Peake at last.
“Three hundred thousand.” Answered Buromir, with his high-pitched voice. “If we’re lucky. Double if we aren’t. ”

It was surprisingly easy to speak of said casualties, of said great number of corpses, dead civilians, fathers, mothers and children. The leadership were not allowed to think in faces, but they only spoke in numbers. Because of that, millions of saved lives mattered more than a few hundreds of thousands. Peake knew this, because he too saw those casualties as staticstics.
“And meanwhile we focus on defending the mid-town entrances.” Commented Peake, pondering for a moment.

“Okay, do it.”

Thanks to Lazuli for this amazing template!

[Leeson Andaris]

"O-... Oh okay let me stop you right there." Leeson said, setting his satchel carefully and gently upon the floor. "I'm sorry to be frank but I didn't ask to be here and honestly because of my family the only given one of you that can issue me with more than a slap on the wrist is Peake, and even then if he did anything more drastic than that he'd never be able to show his face in public again due to the fact that, most likely, you made a pariah out of your brother, so I think I can muster the courage to tell you all why that is an awful, awful decision."

Leeson, outwardly bold and fearless, but secretly anticipating and preparing to hurl up his most recent meal, approached the strategy table.

"Let me just... Let me just throw some facts, okay? Cause I know that none of you are economists, but being men who profit solely off of the preparation for and actual act of war, I would expect you to know that wars cost money. Like, a shit ton. Soldiers' pay, weapon manufacturing, uniforms, medical supplies, the list goes on and on and on. You're familiar with this, yeah? And we all know that the opposing force usually tries to injure opponents rather to kill them so that it costs us even more money to keep them alive. I'm sure we're all very very familiar." Leeson went on. "This little plan - a fire barricade - not only will the fuel for it cost money, but containing the fire to Low Town will cost money, the countless funerals will cost money, and even if you don't give the citizens of Low Town the respectful burials they deserve, mass graves cost a lot too. Not even to mention reparations, cause what kind of national leaders would any of you be if you let a portion of Andaris remain burned to the ground?" Leeson laughed a little bit, knowing now that he was way too far into the charade to give it up now. "I mean it's ridiculous! You would multiply your costs by 1.5, at least. If not more. I don't think a war is really won if the capital city is too weak to prevent another uprising. If another force was collectivized after this one and marched on the city, what then? We'd have nothing. We'd all be dead. That's it for us. The kingdom falls. You're all focusing on winning the battle and not the war. This is lesson one stuff, guys."

Leeson sighed, making strenuous eye contact with each of the men in the room. "You're overlooking a major strategic advantage," Leeson stated firmly. "You're saying that you've identified Low Town as a potential breach point, right? Fine! Here's what we do; let them breach it."

Leeson stood up straight, observing each of the faces of the generals, amused by their wordless expressions. "Yeah," He laughed "That's the reaction I expected. But hear me out."

One more time, Leeson looked around the table, biting his lip and holding his breath. He'd never done a single thing like this. Needless to say, it was going better than he had expected. Well, that being said, he had exected Peake to get up in anger and stomp on his tortoise, shortly followed by a harsh wedgie given to Leeson himself in front of the presiding lords. This wasn't even worst case scenario. So yeah. Things were going well.

"Evacuate the citizens, barricade the entrances and exits to the rest of Andaris, and fortify the rest of the city. Meanwhile, the bulk of your force would be hiding right... There." Leeson pointed to a portion of the map that represented the forest, only a bit off from the city. "It's easy. Force the opposing army into Low Town and prevent an assault on the rest of the city. After they have entered, rush them where they entered, and obviously any other open entrances. They'll be forced to fight in an opposite direction, and if you place archers on the border, you can rain arrows, fire, oil, whatever you folks feel like raining on them, you can do it. You would decimate their army within a break. You would not only cripple them, but potentially completely demolish them. Easily. No citizen lives lost, no burnt down towns, no mass graves, much less money spent." Leeson slammed his fist on the table in confident arrogance, but justly so. At least in Leeson's mind."

"Oh and also. Kepler is a he. He's not my girlfriend."

"And he's a tortoise. Not a turtle."