#Jago Salvaris

[koraceyn-harper-blog]

Character Info!

the basics ––

NAME: Koraceyn Harper

AGE: 26

BIRTHDAY: September 7th

RACE: Human

GENDER: Female

SEXUALITY: Heterosexual

MARITAL STATUS: Single

physical appearance ––

HAIR: Fire red

EYES: Emerald Green

HEIGHT: 5′4″

BUILD: Lean.

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Light scarring on the abdomen and back.

COMMON ACCESSORIES: A golden necklace inlaid with lionseye gems.

personal ––

PROFESSION: Hunter 

HOBBIES: Fashion (limited), Mercantilism.

LANGUAGES: Common

RESIDENCE: Rosewood Isles

BIRTHPLACE: Stormwind

RELIGION: Light.

PATRON DEITY: Unsure.

FEARS: Loss, Magic, Most otherworldly creatures.

relationships ––

SPOUSE: None

CHILDREN: None

PARENTS: James Harper and Holly Flynt

SIBLINGS: None

OTHER RELATIVES: Distant

ACQUAINTANCES: A great many FRIENDS: The Countess Miersae, Lord Marshal Danvers Caerow, Seneschal Jago Salvaris, The Rangers, Others under the House’s employ, Gaves Hillvack, Cherry Crawford.

PETS: Summer, a wolf

traits ––

extroverted / introverted / in between.

disorganized / organized / in between.

close minded / open-minded / in between.

calm / anxious / in between.

disagreeable / agreeable / in between.

cautious / reckless / in between.

patient / impatient / in between.

outspoken / reserved / in between.

leader / follower / in between.

empathetic / unemphatic / in between.

optimistic / pessimistic / in between.

traditional / modern / in between.

hard-working / lazy / in between.

cultured / un-cultured / in between.

loyal / disloyal / unknown / in between.

faithful / unfaithful / unknown / in between.

additional information ––

SMOKING HABIT: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

[valerie-shadebrook]

  Sitting down at the large oak desk, Valerie stared at the sheet of finely made stationary baring her families crest. There was a moment of hesitation before finally ink was put to paper. A well paid courier should be able to find the Knight in due time.

    Jago,   I thank you, gratefully, for taking the time to write. It was kind and thoughtful of you. There is no reason for you to apologize. The past had been left where it lay and it was reasonable. Though I was surprised to hear from you, it was also a pleasant surprise. I have always worried for you. You’re not a man who requires it, I know, but you are a man who deserves it. Someone, to worry for you. You go away and anyone who leaves should have someone hoping they return.   The days have gone by slowly, since the funeral. Only a handful and they feel like years. Perhaps it’s allowed me distance and ability to now reply to your thoughtful message. I don’t believe I’ll ever be able to forget you. I can’t claim to have tried very diligently. It’s served me well to remember. Not only you, but who I was as well. There are lessons we learn in life through luck and those we learn through pain. I think the latter are more valuable for it.   Someone asked me the other day, why I am, the way I am. An odd question perhaps to you, if in your memory you remember a girl who doesn’t exist anymore. Life has quieted many grand thoughts I once had. Humbled, perhaps. If you promise to not laugh at the thought. I was asked, in any event, and my reply was simply... that once I had fallen in love.    Too many stories start that way, so many of them end sad. I fell in love with love. With the idea of love and the need to be loved. I used you for this. You became the focus of all the girlish dreams a young woman was taught to need. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. It left you trapped in an awkward place and for that, I am sorry. Know that I never meant to lose myself. I simply didn’t know how else to be. I have learned since, I have adapted.    I hope you’re well. You’re a man of sacrifice and flagellation so no doubt ‘well’ comes in degrees. You are also wise and noble and one can hardly go wrong with such traits. Whatever point in your life you are, I hope you’re happy... or contentish. I know how evasive happiness can be. How much easier it is to be haunted. I hold no ill feelings toward you. Only good ones. Only memories from behind rose glass and the flutter of what a silly girl thought life was supposed to be.    How are you though? That’s truly what I wish to know. Filling this parchment with myself as though I could find an interesting nugget. If you feel up to a reply... perhaps letters could gap some of the space between the past and the present. If you aren’t, of course, it’s understandable. In either case, may the Light bless you and may the Shadows protect you, now and always.     Fondly,    Valerie

 -- @iron-and-flesh --

[valerie-shadebrook]

Jago, 

  I find myself chuckling a bit at your expense. The fact the thought to inquire about personal issues after only recounting to me the memory of my lips-- I admit it strikes me as very amusing. A man of single sight you are. That aside I can assure you, I’m not married. I haven’t had thoughts regarding such a thing since... well since you. Nor have I had thoughts of relationships in general. I learned a lot back then. That I open up too quickly. That I fall to hard. Of course then I had a brother, trained and poised to become Duke and a strong, well father residing handily over my life. I had time, I had the fancy to dream about those sorts of little girl dreams. 

  Now I have neither, and a Duchy filled with good, strong, hard-working people. There is a lumber industry I have to learn, of course farming communities that need to know their crop expectations. There’s horses to be bred for soldiers who need to trained. Merchants to be taxed, schools to be funded-- and should I endeavour the thought of romance, well. I find it’s been a slow moving creature. Or perhaps I’m just a colder one.

  Regarding the layers of your armor and what lays beneath, I think you know very well I wouldn't have runaway. I think that is really the reason you chose to do so yourself. Forgive me if I speak out of turn, Jago, but I’ve had a long time to reflect, to try to understand. To build my own walls higher and to wonder what caused the first set to come crashing down. It wasn’t your fear of my reaction, it was your fear, period. I had faced many scars unflinchingly and in the end, I think... you walked away, unable to stand in front of someone who accepted you as you are, instead of the monster, the enigma you longed to remain.

  I hated you for that, for a long time. For letting me love you and then leaving when you didn’t want to love me back. I don’t say this to wound you, of course. It was another time and I have long since forgiven you for it. I had to really. There was no other option. I understand now that I gave you all of myself and you didn’t yet have all of yourself, to give. That’s not your fault and I don’t harbor the anger it once caused. I got over zealous at the progress, I began to forget the pace. I lost myself in you and you in the process. Perhaps it’s just the unpleasant side effect of two flawed creatures clinging to each other.

  Perhaps that wasn’t quite what you wished to hear but, I thought perhaps in ink we could grow a bit bold. I worry that if I were to stand before you, in person your eyes would steal my words. For that I hope you pardon them, giving them life via pen if only to get them out of my mind and allow them to the universe finally. 

  That brings me to the question, what of you? What gorgeous creature adorns your plated arm these days? Not to sound boastful but I think I recall you favor dark hair. Someone classy and elegant, who can still put up with the brutish nature of a soldier. Perhaps even keep up with you at times? A man such as you doesn’t need to look far for someone willing and lovely. That said I do wish you well. I like to think of you happy. That slight smirk allowed, even if hidden behind the mask of a helm. 

  Fondly,    Valerie

 - @iron-and-flesh -

[valerie-shadebrook]

  You Silly Plated Man,

  I honestly don’t know how I’d endure poetry from you. The thought so ricochettes in the mind as an illogical impossibility. I will admit a pride and more over a gratefulness that you have allowed me this look at you. Through your written words and honest feelings it's almost as if I’ve been able to reclaim some pieces of myself as well. Perhaps it’s what we always needed. A mending. A purge. To shed in someway the weight or the words. It’s done as much for me as you, I wager. 

  Though I am also glad it came after the anger and the hurt. From this place of introspection I feel far more ready to be honest because I know my words come from a place that means well. Not to harm.

  Your analogy is fitting and apt. You’re right of course, it’s a worry I must have-- for the people of Direwood. Still, I know too that they are capable and they are living their lives according to patterns and habits long established with or without me they would thrive as is their way. It’s nice, honestly. To make myself a lesser feature in the whole system. One of the many gears instead of a gear of note. That without me progress would still be made and with me, perhaps it will aid if only a bit.

  I’m stuck now wondering about this new, open, honest Jago. This open book bound in metal. Do you dance through fields of wildflowers? Attend poetry nights in Darnassus? Tell me, do you find yourself donning flowy shirts and on bended knee lament to the moon of it’s untouchable beauty? If you don’t, but begin to feel the urge I would be very interested in that information. For completely non-mocking related purposes. Of course. 

  I’ll admit some shock that you’ve not, shall I delicately put, at least tasted of many fruits? I learned a long time ago a man is a man, nonetheless. But then again, you were always a beast in other ways. On the battlefield, in conviction. In duty and honor you were ferocious. In the right from the wrong. The work before the play. That’s of course not to say you didn’t take play seriously. Mentions of sparring and sweat from previous letters spring to mind. I blame that on mentions of late night bathing in cool lakes, no doubt hidden away from prying eyes. 

  Once I dressed you up in a suit and lost you in the softness of that fabric. You function best wrapped in metal, hidden behind plate. In a suit you felt smaller, invisible. You weren’t a statue but a man and I dripped in gold and thought perhaps it would be enough to offer you confidence. The pride on me. The presumption. I wanted to be as good as a sword in your hand when I was on your arm but I never paused, not a single second to ask you what you wanted in that way. What you needed. So I tore you out of armor and put you in satin and watched you shrink. It’s a great regret of mine... that night, that mountain top.

  There is no more shoppe. When my father got sick, I tried to keep it open by hiring help but at the end of the day, it was other people, doing their work and no longer the dream I had. I went home, to be with my father, to be in my father’s house. I let it go. I had to. It was the only responsible thing to do. Now, there’s no time to sew dresses, to even design them. The shoppe was the passion project of a girl who had all the time in the world. I’m a Duchess with little of it. Perhaps one day, but I dont hold on to much hope. 

  I still try to take pictures of lovely things. I find inspiration everywhere and try to capture it. It becomes a pile of what I may have done but I can’t seem to help myself from from the habit. It’s bittersweet. 

  So much in life is. However that can change. I didn’t quite realize that until recently, that the bitterness can fade if you put effort into it. I’ve found it true with these letters though. With the memory of you. It shifts to something sweeter, with every letter, every confession. I think of you and my smile is more content than sad and it’s a blessing I gladly take. 

  Thank you for my smirk. I greedily request another. 

    Yours,         Valerie

  @iron-and-flesh

[valerie-shadebrook]

Sexy picture prompt:

  Perhaps fate had saved the best for last… or maybe it was just accidently poetic. She didn’t realize how firmly her teeth had sunk into her bottom lip until the twinge of pain began to raise a heat in her flesh. She didn’t mind however, the poor flesh regularly abused in the name of Salvaris. Though she didn’t check there was no doubt her cheeks were pink. “May all the gods in all the worlds have mercy on me because this man certainly won’t.” She sighed, a most wistful sound as she began to absently fan herself with the magazine in her hand and just stare. Who knows how long, or how many moments ticked by as she gazed at all aspects of the image before her. Finally the word fluttered past lips in a whimper. “... gracious.” 

  {| @iron-and-flesh |}

[iron-and-flesh]

     Valerie,

     If you find yourself laughing at my expense that is quite alright, the sound of your laughter, as I recall was always one to raise ones heart no matter how low it was. As a soldier you're taught to be situationally aware at all times, yet also to be able to focus solely on what you want and need to do. So now that I know the situation, I am free to focus intently upon..well. It seemed that we both learned a lot back then, though for myself it would seem many of them sat upon the opposite side of the bench from your own.

   Power, death and responsibility makes one grow hard to that which would break us down. so I offer you this advice, my dearest Valerie, do not fully close yourself off from such things, do not make the same mistakes I made, fore in the end all it will do is bring you pain and makes you realize that you've lost the one you love. Or the chance at happiness. That is the one thing that I wish for you above all else, is to be happy and smile again...and I mean truly smile. None of that Noble smile nonsense. A genuine, melt my heart and make your cheeks hurt kind of smile.

   This analogy may not make the best of sense, but perhaps you can still glean a bit of advice from it. I imagine a Duchy to run much like a a military barracks, many different parts all moving and relying on one another..its like a beautiful chaotic dance. Yet at its core, those that live, breath, work and bleed within it are all creatures of habit, they know what is expected of them and the routine of such is what keeps it going, keeps the wheels turning. So until you are able to learn all there is to learn, just keep the wheels turning and it will all fall into place for you..and I've no doubt you'll have an earful of advisers and their like giving you far better advice than I. That is why I know your lands, businesses and people are in capable hands; you've a sharp and creative mind, Valerie..and It should serve you well in the years to come.

   Your words seem to echo my own thoughts and a similar revelation I had the other evening. Often as of late after the night-training drills, I take a swim in a lake a few miles away from here, and there as I float in the dark waters basked in the light of the moon it struck me that I haven opened up more to you through these letters than I ever have anyone else, including yourself while in person. I don't know if it is the separation that causes the ease, the lack of proximity to your intoxicating presence. Perhaps I have grown as a person, or perhaps I’m just delusional from two many blows to the head in war. Either way, you needent ask for pardon or apologize for speaking your mind...fore that I will never fault you for that, especially when such words ring true.

   While your recollection that I favor dark hair is quite correct, I am afraid I must disappoint you yet again on everything else. No gorgeous creature has adorned my plated arm since you were last upon it. I did not make the time, nor did I want another after you, though I am sure there are those out there that secretly wish I would turn my gaze upon them. No, after you my heart would not allow another to even look at it, it encased itself in armor thicker than my own, and drown itself in blood, sweat and war to avoid the truth.

   I sound like a greenhorn spilling my feelings out upon parchment like some love lost pup. If you're not careful I'll start writing you poetry like some fancy to-do Knight who thinks far too highly of himself. I wonder, despite all your new responsibilities, do you still run your dress shop in Stormwind? still bringing beauty and color to its drab streets? I admit I’ve not been back to the city since my dismissal from the services of Lady Reinhardt, so I’ve not had the chance to check for myself.

I'll give a smirk behind my helm, just for you tonight.

Forever, Jago

(( @valerie-shadebrook ))