Delita is "useless"
I get... upset over really, really stupid things.
There's this FFT RPG that I'm applying for. Most of the main characters are still open (by most, I mean, like 40 of them) so I was all like: "This is so cool! I should play Olan!" I mean, because NO one notices Olan- even though he's massively important to the game.
I got all worked up about it and... OF COURSE Olan was taken. *smacks self in the head* And after I convinced Rebecca to apply for Balmafula and everything!
What's really stupid about this is that I actually got upset about it. I mean, for goodness sakes, it's an interenet RPG. Sometimes I really don't get myself. If I were not me, I would most likely slap me. Grr.
So I applied for Delita instead! (someone took OLAN but not Delita!)
Players Alias: Cephied Variable
E-Mail: cephied_variable@yoishness.zzn.com (this e-mail may be displayed)
Past RPGing Experience: I've been RPGing as long as I can remember, although officially since 1996 when I joined a Redwall RP-Chat Room (I played a wolf named Moongold). Since I've almost constantly been part of various internet text RPGs for series such as Final Fantasy, Xenogears and Digimon. I am also a major player on the Fantasy RPG Ryuuguu (http://www27.brinkster.com/ryuuguu), which, while being a small community is in the process of being written into a novel. A year ago I started a sci-fi RPG called 'sirens', which I unfortunately had to hand over to a friend (Locked Heart Ami). I occasionally play tabletop RPGs (D&D, of course, and Wheel of Time) and have DMed before. On the even more odd occasion, a few friends and I have RLRPed.
This doesn't exactly fall under the category of RPGing, but I am currently in the middle of writing an FFT novelization (that is in serious need of a rewrite, but let's not talk about that. La la la.)
As far as videogaming goes, I play whatever I can get my hands on in the RPG genre. I've played every single FF game except for III (but have, admittedly, only beaten V through X). I'm a huge Xeno-series fanatic and remember playing Wild ARMS when it first came out. I also played the LUNAR games, Grandia and.... um, a lot of other things. This list is getting a little long and pretencious
Why I Chose This Character: Delita's character captured me from the moment I began playing. His intensity intrigued me, as well as the relationships he formed with other characters (none of which seem to make sense o.O.) The way in which his character is developed in the game is absolutely fascinating as you *always* see him through the eyes of others (Ramza, Ovelia, Olan, ect.), leaving his actions and thoughts murky and undefined. As a writer, I enjoy the challenge of getting inside that complicated head of his. This is what makes him an appealing character to RP. His past and present are laid out pretty clearly throughout the game, but we're at a loss as to the actual motivation behind many of his movements.
Besides, Olan was taken and Delita's my second favorite character.
Um. Remaining professional here. ^ ^;;
Delita Hyral
Birthplace: Igros Farmlands
Age: 16
Birthdate: November 25th (Sagittarius)
Planned Second Class: Knight
Physical Description: Delita is all about sharp edges and shadowed angles with his stone-cut face, strong chin and high cheekbones. His nose is slightly crooked where an upperclassman at Gariland broke it once, but his face is overall a handsome, if somewhat foreboding one. His skin is pale, though aquires a dark tan from summer labour than tends not to fade until late November. His hair is dark and his eyes a peculiar shade of amber that seem almost red in the reflecting sunlight.
He is tall and lanky, his long limbs giving the impression of one who grew to quickly. However, despite his apparent akwardness, Delita moves with a careful and calculated grace. He has long, delicate fingers- musician's fingers as they're often referred to in Ivalice- giving him both a sure sword-grip and impeccable handwriting.
**After the ordeal at Fort Zeakden, Delita's body becomes covered in a map of gruesome scars- mostly on his arms and upper torso. His skin acquires a permanent, unnatural pallor where the pigment was burned from it and his hair grew back coarse and a shade darker from the trauma.
Delita dresses humbly in whatever second hand leathers the Beoulve brothers can spare. His cuffs are often fraying and the dyes are usually running from the fabric. He's smart about choosing armour, always choosing strength and durability over aesthetics.
Family Background: Delita, and his younger sister Teta, were the only children of Marchin and Attica Hyral, humble horsebreeders (?? it's what the game says) who lived in Igros under the jurisdiction of the Beoulves. During the last few years of the Fifty Year War, Marchin and Attica fell deathly ill from the plague circulating throughout the countryside. Delita was left in charge of taking care of his ailing sister at the age of eight. The two children were taken in by Balbanes Beoulve, a noble with a kind (too kind, his rivals often insisted) heart and a strong moral sense. Though Balbanes older sons, Dycedarg and Zalbag were reluctant to accept Delita and Teta into the household,. the man's younger children- illigetimate Ramza and Alma- were quick to welcome the new additions. When Balbanes died, he told Ramza that Delita would "serve him well", but until the end the relationship between Ramza and Delita was more one of friendship and brotherhood rather than the inequality of a noble to a commoner.
Hobbies: A quick study, Delita spends a great deal of his free time practicing swordplay or immersed in reading. As the only commoner orphan accepted into Gariland for as long as anyone can remember, keeping his marks up is very important to him. He has a special interest in History, especially that of the ancient heretical nation of Murond, seeing as his family may have genetic roots in the sunken country.
He attends to his stable duties with dilligence, but very little passion. He is sometimes permitted to attend Sunday mass with the Beoulve family, but as one raised on a farm, dislikes the rigid orginization of the Glabados religion. Delita hints that he may be somewhat of an aethiest, but prefers to talk about religion only in terms of historical study.
Delita is also an amatuer musician. He began playing a reed whistle when he was very young as a way to lull his sister to sleep. He does not consider himself an expert at the self-fashioned instrument, but Ramza insists that he is indeed talented.
Goals: Delita seems like a young man with very little aim. He drifts through his life with an indifferent expression and seems mostly dedicated to keeping Ramza relatively out of trouble. However, beneath the calm exterior lies potential for frightening ambition that needs only a spark to light a raging fire that could threaten to consume those around him. During his years at Gariland, Delita is determined to prove his worth to Dycedarg without really understanding why. It's not so much a matter of proving his worth as a commoner, rather than a personal vendetta that manifest itself in the strangest ways. Delita excels in his classes and develops near-perfect manners in public, much to Dycedarg's fustration. Even something as simple as taking to blame for Ramza's mistakes will grate the eldest Beoulve's nerves.
**After Fort Zeakden, Delita meets a man named Vormov Tingel who changes his world. He dives deep into the situation between Larg and Goltana, never quite specifying exactly what he is trying to accomplish. Every lie and half-truth; every foiled plot and assassination committed by anyone seems to fall in the favour of Delita rising to the top. He obviously wishes to change the way the world works from the bottom up. Retribution for his sister's death perhaps? His methods are brutal, but his drive seems honorable at least. In the end, the only one who really knows what Delita wants is Delita himself.
Fears: Any wise tactician, large scale or small, knows that they must keep their fears carefully guarded. For Delita, the practice of hiding one's emotions came almost effortlessly and at a very young age. Though he doesn't show it, Delita cares deeply, though selectively. And he fears deeply for those he cares about- Teta, his sister, and Ramza, his best friend. His fear for these two is very different, but manifest itself similarily- a desire to protect. Although Balbanes Beoulve made sure that Teta was well protected and taken care of, Delita still feels as if he is her sole protector. When he buried his parents he promised them that he would take care of Teta until he died- even when she stopped needing him. He cannot imagine anything worse than her death. As for Ramza, Delita realizes that there isn't much he can do to shield the impressionable boy from the world, seeing as Ramza's pre-planned destiny is to walk the path of the warrior. He does, however, hope that the youngest Beoulve son will listen to advice from one who has seen and felt the cold reality of death firsthand. Delita worries that Ramza may one day fall in battle and that Ramza's siblings will blame him.
Background: The day Delita was born, his father Marchin Hyral was nearly killed in battle along the Lesalian border. When Marchin returned home to see his wife at midwinter, he decided that raising a stable family was more important than dying for his country and became an unofficial deserter of. Balbanes Beoulve allowed the Hyrals to live on the land as long as Marchin and Attica agreed to breed 'horses'- battle steeds that were rare in Ivalice, but in many ways superior to the Chocobos used universally. They were not allowed any wages, but lived off the land teaching Delita to be resourceful at a young age. When his sister, Teta, was born a few years later, Delita was put in charge of taking care of her, since his parents were almost constantly working. The bond he formed with Teta was almost parental, making their relatively small age gap seem much farther than it actually was.
Near the end of the war, Attica and Marchin fell ill as a plague swept through the countryside. The sickness took all the horses and livestock within a week, but the Hyrals lingered for nearly three months as their children desperately tried to nurse them back to health.
After they died, Delita attempted to take care of Teta and the house on his own. Unfortunately, Teta became sick and fearing the plague, Delita took his sister to the only place he knew for certain was safe- the Beoulve manor.
He arrived at their doorstep in the middle of the night during late January. Balbanes just happened to be home for the month and decided that he would not only tend to these children, but also take them in as foundlings, or surrogate children.
Teta easily found her place in the household as a constant companion to the youngest Beoulve, Alma, but Delita felt uncomfortable living in other's favour. He offered to do stable work for the estate in exchange for food, bath, bed and education. He kept himself distracted with farm work, trying to erase the memory of burying his parent's dead bodies. It wasn't until three months after his arrival that Delita met the final of the Beoulve siblings- a lonely boy named Ramza.
Delita quickly formed a deep and unique friendship with Ramza, as if the two were kindred spirits destined to meet and complete each other's empty childhoods. Though they were as different as night and day, the paralells between their lives were amazing- including a close relationship with their sisters. With Alma and Teta at Orbonne Monastery nearly year round, Ramza and Delita often had only each other for company in those long months of wartime waiting to hear of the older Beoulve's fates.
As quickly as he made a friend of Ramza, Delita made and enemy of elder brother Dycedarg. Dycedarg resented the Hyral's prescence, but especially disliked Delita's intellect and work ethic, qualities that made the boy difficult to pin down as untrustworthy or worthless.
When Ramza was accepted to Gariland Military Academy, Balbanes made sure that the school admitted Delita as well. Delita never asked for this honor, but nevertheless tried his hardest. At the school, Delita faced discrimination, both overt- such as the upperclassmen who sometimes beat on him- and underhanded- such as the kind used by teachers in marking his assignments and duels. Though the attempted beatings stopped after Ramza made it clear the Beoulve family was behind Delita, his marks were still supressed until the day he graduated.
Despite his loyalty to Ramza, Delita does not consider himself a part of the Beoulve family- or in fact, a noble at all. Nor does he really see himself as a commoner. At some point it becomes apparent to him that he is tettering dangerously between these two very different worlds. After all, it's impossible for any one person to maintain a perfect balance and still keep their sanity.
Writing Sample:
Delita pressed the upturned dirt beneath his bare palm and breathed in the damp earth scent. It was cool beneath his fingers; and calm. The plain graves betrayed nothing of his parent's suffering- the violent tossing and mad ramblings that had accompanied the end. Slowly he rose and bent to retrieve the shovel. Night was falling and the breeze was turning chilly.
"Delita?"
Delita turned to see Teta standing behind him. He couldn't tell how long she had been watching him, but he eyes were wide and her hair unbrushed. She was still in her nightslip, which wasn't surprising since Delita had instructed her to stay in bed all day. She didn't need to see their bodies, or the graves that they now laid in.
"Delita?" she asked again, her voice thin with stifled tears, "Did you..." she sniffed, and tried again, "Are... are they...?" he voice failed again and she fell silent, lowering her gaze to watch the dying grass beneath her feet.
Delita dropped the shovel again and closed the distance between them, dropping to his knees and pulling his sister into a tense embrace, "Listen, Teta. Mamma and Pap, they told me something. They made me promise that I would look after you. A promise that the two of us would always be together." he drew back slightly and watched her face in the dim light. It was a lie, of course. His mother and father had not been nearly coherent enough to form words, let alone string disjointed thoughts into sentences. Teta knew this, on some level, but the words were still enough. She looked at him.
"Momma and Pap... were always looking out for us." she affirmed.
Delita tried to smile, "Teta..." he began-
- and opened his eyes. The sky was gray at dusk in the backstreets of Riovanes. Delita hadn't even realized he'd been sleeping until he woke, now with aching muscles and a chill in his bones. He was still sitting, back flat against stone wall with his sword laid across his knees. He blinked as the pain hit him, noting dully that he probably should get up but not really feeling any particular motivation. He rested the back of his head against the wall and watched the cloudless sky darken.
'It's probably going to rain...' he sighed inwardly, 'And I'm being watched...' he added as a mental side note, suddenly overcome by the unsettling sensation of eyes on him.
He lowered his gaze to find the man standing almost exactly in front of him, perhaps a foot or so to the side. He was leaning casually against the wooden side of a closed shop with his arms crossed and a bemused expression on his face. He was wearing heavy cloaks of a fine cut and rich texture- designed for those who were used to 'roughing' it, but not necessarily fit for battle. Delita faintly recognized the insigna over his left breast as signifying an official of the Glabados church, but the man was not Holy in nature. His eyes were piercing and betrayed a ruthless intellect and he moved like a wild cougar; all pent up energy, waiting for the right moment to spring. No, perhaps he was a snake searching for an opportunity. No, maybe he was more like a horse- those majestic beasts Delita remembered so little of. The memories were all murky now, hidden behind a wall of fog, so so long ago in a lifetime that hardly seemed to belong to him anymore.
Whatever it was, Delita understood that he and this man were alike. He knew, even before the man strode forwards and introduced himself as Vormov Tingle, that he would say yes. This man- this Vormov knew as well, because all he said was:
"We could use someone like you."
'Yes.' Delita thought, taking Vormov's large hand and allowing the man to heft him to his feet, 'Yes, you could use me.'
If I don't get Delita I'll probably try for Gafgharion. I love writing grizzly old mercenaries. ^ ^
----+
On an entirely different subject... I'm going shopping with Rebecca today. And cleaning Gregory's microwave tommorow. And I might fit some studying in (I have a math test on Tues.).
Ooooh! What an exilihrating life I lead!
Rebecca and I are heading down to 'The Village'. Or the casterated mall of once-life. Or something. All I know is that it's built upon the lonely remains of a mall I used to frequent in my youth and now it's got a total of, like, 11 stores and no food court. But it's got Fabricville, I suppose, and in the end, isn't that all that matters (don't answer that, Caily. I know what you'll say).
And tommorow... about the microwave thing... listen, the Morris's have never once cleaned out their microwave. EVER! It's disgusting and offensive (much like the mop I'm forced to use at work. Ick) and is most likely to blame with every old-man like mannerism Gregory posseses.
... besides, I eat out of that microwave too and I don't want to fear getting food poisoning every time I go over to play RISK. -.-;;
Steppy, don't worry about you post about the project- you don't have a monopoly on writing a million paragraphs about absolutely nothing. Fear my boring life!
---+
Tokyo Babylon is very good. I now own the DVD which I cannot watch for lack of PS2 and/or DVD player. So Caily's looking after it for me.
---+
Mwahahah! I like switching subjects!
I want a Gamecube. But I only want it to play TWIN SNAKES when it comes out. Leslie and I watched the two trailers last night something like three times and sobbed, drooled and reminesced. Caily didn't get it. -.-;; But still, nothing beats a good nostalgia trip in something like 3-million bits.
Okay, I'm done ranting about nothing. I've got to go to work soon anyways. Yey for Saturdays at the Cafe!
*sincerely
Jenn "Sparky" Young of the boring lj posts.
There's this FFT RPG that I'm applying for. Most of the main characters are still open (by most, I mean, like 40 of them) so I was all like: "This is so cool! I should play Olan!" I mean, because NO one notices Olan- even though he's massively important to the game.
I got all worked up about it and... OF COURSE Olan was taken. *smacks self in the head* And after I convinced Rebecca to apply for Balmafula and everything!
What's really stupid about this is that I actually got upset about it. I mean, for goodness sakes, it's an interenet RPG. Sometimes I really don't get myself. If I were not me, I would most likely slap me. Grr.
So I applied for Delita instead! (someone took OLAN but not Delita!)
Players Alias: Cephied Variable
E-Mail: cephied_variable@yoishness.zzn.com (this e-mail may be displayed)
Past RPGing Experience: I've been RPGing as long as I can remember, although officially since 1996 when I joined a Redwall RP-Chat Room (I played a wolf named Moongold). Since I've almost constantly been part of various internet text RPGs for series such as Final Fantasy, Xenogears and Digimon. I am also a major player on the Fantasy RPG Ryuuguu (http://www27.brinkster.com/ryuuguu), which, while being a small community is in the process of being written into a novel. A year ago I started a sci-fi RPG called 'sirens', which I unfortunately had to hand over to a friend (Locked Heart Ami). I occasionally play tabletop RPGs (D&D, of course, and Wheel of Time) and have DMed before. On the even more odd occasion, a few friends and I have RLRPed.
This doesn't exactly fall under the category of RPGing, but I am currently in the middle of writing an FFT novelization (that is in serious need of a rewrite, but let's not talk about that. La la la.)
As far as videogaming goes, I play whatever I can get my hands on in the RPG genre. I've played every single FF game except for III (but have, admittedly, only beaten V through X). I'm a huge Xeno-series fanatic and remember playing Wild ARMS when it first came out. I also played the LUNAR games, Grandia and.... um, a lot of other things. This list is getting a little long and pretencious
Why I Chose This Character: Delita's character captured me from the moment I began playing. His intensity intrigued me, as well as the relationships he formed with other characters (none of which seem to make sense o.O.) The way in which his character is developed in the game is absolutely fascinating as you *always* see him through the eyes of others (Ramza, Ovelia, Olan, ect.), leaving his actions and thoughts murky and undefined. As a writer, I enjoy the challenge of getting inside that complicated head of his. This is what makes him an appealing character to RP. His past and present are laid out pretty clearly throughout the game, but we're at a loss as to the actual motivation behind many of his movements.
Besides, Olan was taken and Delita's my second favorite character.
Um. Remaining professional here. ^ ^;;
Delita Hyral
Birthplace: Igros Farmlands
Age: 16
Birthdate: November 25th (Sagittarius)
Planned Second Class: Knight
Physical Description: Delita is all about sharp edges and shadowed angles with his stone-cut face, strong chin and high cheekbones. His nose is slightly crooked where an upperclassman at Gariland broke it once, but his face is overall a handsome, if somewhat foreboding one. His skin is pale, though aquires a dark tan from summer labour than tends not to fade until late November. His hair is dark and his eyes a peculiar shade of amber that seem almost red in the reflecting sunlight.
He is tall and lanky, his long limbs giving the impression of one who grew to quickly. However, despite his apparent akwardness, Delita moves with a careful and calculated grace. He has long, delicate fingers- musician's fingers as they're often referred to in Ivalice- giving him both a sure sword-grip and impeccable handwriting.
**After the ordeal at Fort Zeakden, Delita's body becomes covered in a map of gruesome scars- mostly on his arms and upper torso. His skin acquires a permanent, unnatural pallor where the pigment was burned from it and his hair grew back coarse and a shade darker from the trauma.
Delita dresses humbly in whatever second hand leathers the Beoulve brothers can spare. His cuffs are often fraying and the dyes are usually running from the fabric. He's smart about choosing armour, always choosing strength and durability over aesthetics.
Family Background: Delita, and his younger sister Teta, were the only children of Marchin and Attica Hyral, humble horsebreeders (?? it's what the game says) who lived in Igros under the jurisdiction of the Beoulves. During the last few years of the Fifty Year War, Marchin and Attica fell deathly ill from the plague circulating throughout the countryside. Delita was left in charge of taking care of his ailing sister at the age of eight. The two children were taken in by Balbanes Beoulve, a noble with a kind (too kind, his rivals often insisted) heart and a strong moral sense. Though Balbanes older sons, Dycedarg and Zalbag were reluctant to accept Delita and Teta into the household,. the man's younger children- illigetimate Ramza and Alma- were quick to welcome the new additions. When Balbanes died, he told Ramza that Delita would "serve him well", but until the end the relationship between Ramza and Delita was more one of friendship and brotherhood rather than the inequality of a noble to a commoner.
Hobbies: A quick study, Delita spends a great deal of his free time practicing swordplay or immersed in reading. As the only commoner orphan accepted into Gariland for as long as anyone can remember, keeping his marks up is very important to him. He has a special interest in History, especially that of the ancient heretical nation of Murond, seeing as his family may have genetic roots in the sunken country.
He attends to his stable duties with dilligence, but very little passion. He is sometimes permitted to attend Sunday mass with the Beoulve family, but as one raised on a farm, dislikes the rigid orginization of the Glabados religion. Delita hints that he may be somewhat of an aethiest, but prefers to talk about religion only in terms of historical study.
Delita is also an amatuer musician. He began playing a reed whistle when he was very young as a way to lull his sister to sleep. He does not consider himself an expert at the self-fashioned instrument, but Ramza insists that he is indeed talented.
Goals: Delita seems like a young man with very little aim. He drifts through his life with an indifferent expression and seems mostly dedicated to keeping Ramza relatively out of trouble. However, beneath the calm exterior lies potential for frightening ambition that needs only a spark to light a raging fire that could threaten to consume those around him. During his years at Gariland, Delita is determined to prove his worth to Dycedarg without really understanding why. It's not so much a matter of proving his worth as a commoner, rather than a personal vendetta that manifest itself in the strangest ways. Delita excels in his classes and develops near-perfect manners in public, much to Dycedarg's fustration. Even something as simple as taking to blame for Ramza's mistakes will grate the eldest Beoulve's nerves.
**After Fort Zeakden, Delita meets a man named Vormov Tingel who changes his world. He dives deep into the situation between Larg and Goltana, never quite specifying exactly what he is trying to accomplish. Every lie and half-truth; every foiled plot and assassination committed by anyone seems to fall in the favour of Delita rising to the top. He obviously wishes to change the way the world works from the bottom up. Retribution for his sister's death perhaps? His methods are brutal, but his drive seems honorable at least. In the end, the only one who really knows what Delita wants is Delita himself.
Fears: Any wise tactician, large scale or small, knows that they must keep their fears carefully guarded. For Delita, the practice of hiding one's emotions came almost effortlessly and at a very young age. Though he doesn't show it, Delita cares deeply, though selectively. And he fears deeply for those he cares about- Teta, his sister, and Ramza, his best friend. His fear for these two is very different, but manifest itself similarily- a desire to protect. Although Balbanes Beoulve made sure that Teta was well protected and taken care of, Delita still feels as if he is her sole protector. When he buried his parents he promised them that he would take care of Teta until he died- even when she stopped needing him. He cannot imagine anything worse than her death. As for Ramza, Delita realizes that there isn't much he can do to shield the impressionable boy from the world, seeing as Ramza's pre-planned destiny is to walk the path of the warrior. He does, however, hope that the youngest Beoulve son will listen to advice from one who has seen and felt the cold reality of death firsthand. Delita worries that Ramza may one day fall in battle and that Ramza's siblings will blame him.
Background: The day Delita was born, his father Marchin Hyral was nearly killed in battle along the Lesalian border. When Marchin returned home to see his wife at midwinter, he decided that raising a stable family was more important than dying for his country and became an unofficial deserter of. Balbanes Beoulve allowed the Hyrals to live on the land as long as Marchin and Attica agreed to breed 'horses'- battle steeds that were rare in Ivalice, but in many ways superior to the Chocobos used universally. They were not allowed any wages, but lived off the land teaching Delita to be resourceful at a young age. When his sister, Teta, was born a few years later, Delita was put in charge of taking care of her, since his parents were almost constantly working. The bond he formed with Teta was almost parental, making their relatively small age gap seem much farther than it actually was.
Near the end of the war, Attica and Marchin fell ill as a plague swept through the countryside. The sickness took all the horses and livestock within a week, but the Hyrals lingered for nearly three months as their children desperately tried to nurse them back to health.
After they died, Delita attempted to take care of Teta and the house on his own. Unfortunately, Teta became sick and fearing the plague, Delita took his sister to the only place he knew for certain was safe- the Beoulve manor.
He arrived at their doorstep in the middle of the night during late January. Balbanes just happened to be home for the month and decided that he would not only tend to these children, but also take them in as foundlings, or surrogate children.
Teta easily found her place in the household as a constant companion to the youngest Beoulve, Alma, but Delita felt uncomfortable living in other's favour. He offered to do stable work for the estate in exchange for food, bath, bed and education. He kept himself distracted with farm work, trying to erase the memory of burying his parent's dead bodies. It wasn't until three months after his arrival that Delita met the final of the Beoulve siblings- a lonely boy named Ramza.
Delita quickly formed a deep and unique friendship with Ramza, as if the two were kindred spirits destined to meet and complete each other's empty childhoods. Though they were as different as night and day, the paralells between their lives were amazing- including a close relationship with their sisters. With Alma and Teta at Orbonne Monastery nearly year round, Ramza and Delita often had only each other for company in those long months of wartime waiting to hear of the older Beoulve's fates.
As quickly as he made a friend of Ramza, Delita made and enemy of elder brother Dycedarg. Dycedarg resented the Hyral's prescence, but especially disliked Delita's intellect and work ethic, qualities that made the boy difficult to pin down as untrustworthy or worthless.
When Ramza was accepted to Gariland Military Academy, Balbanes made sure that the school admitted Delita as well. Delita never asked for this honor, but nevertheless tried his hardest. At the school, Delita faced discrimination, both overt- such as the upperclassmen who sometimes beat on him- and underhanded- such as the kind used by teachers in marking his assignments and duels. Though the attempted beatings stopped after Ramza made it clear the Beoulve family was behind Delita, his marks were still supressed until the day he graduated.
Despite his loyalty to Ramza, Delita does not consider himself a part of the Beoulve family- or in fact, a noble at all. Nor does he really see himself as a commoner. At some point it becomes apparent to him that he is tettering dangerously between these two very different worlds. After all, it's impossible for any one person to maintain a perfect balance and still keep their sanity.
Writing Sample:
Delita pressed the upturned dirt beneath his bare palm and breathed in the damp earth scent. It was cool beneath his fingers; and calm. The plain graves betrayed nothing of his parent's suffering- the violent tossing and mad ramblings that had accompanied the end. Slowly he rose and bent to retrieve the shovel. Night was falling and the breeze was turning chilly.
"Delita?"
Delita turned to see Teta standing behind him. He couldn't tell how long she had been watching him, but he eyes were wide and her hair unbrushed. She was still in her nightslip, which wasn't surprising since Delita had instructed her to stay in bed all day. She didn't need to see their bodies, or the graves that they now laid in.
"Delita?" she asked again, her voice thin with stifled tears, "Did you..." she sniffed, and tried again, "Are... are they...?" he voice failed again and she fell silent, lowering her gaze to watch the dying grass beneath her feet.
Delita dropped the shovel again and closed the distance between them, dropping to his knees and pulling his sister into a tense embrace, "Listen, Teta. Mamma and Pap, they told me something. They made me promise that I would look after you. A promise that the two of us would always be together." he drew back slightly and watched her face in the dim light. It was a lie, of course. His mother and father had not been nearly coherent enough to form words, let alone string disjointed thoughts into sentences. Teta knew this, on some level, but the words were still enough. She looked at him.
"Momma and Pap... were always looking out for us." she affirmed.
Delita tried to smile, "Teta..." he began-
- and opened his eyes. The sky was gray at dusk in the backstreets of Riovanes. Delita hadn't even realized he'd been sleeping until he woke, now with aching muscles and a chill in his bones. He was still sitting, back flat against stone wall with his sword laid across his knees. He blinked as the pain hit him, noting dully that he probably should get up but not really feeling any particular motivation. He rested the back of his head against the wall and watched the cloudless sky darken.
'It's probably going to rain...' he sighed inwardly, 'And I'm being watched...' he added as a mental side note, suddenly overcome by the unsettling sensation of eyes on him.
He lowered his gaze to find the man standing almost exactly in front of him, perhaps a foot or so to the side. He was leaning casually against the wooden side of a closed shop with his arms crossed and a bemused expression on his face. He was wearing heavy cloaks of a fine cut and rich texture- designed for those who were used to 'roughing' it, but not necessarily fit for battle. Delita faintly recognized the insigna over his left breast as signifying an official of the Glabados church, but the man was not Holy in nature. His eyes were piercing and betrayed a ruthless intellect and he moved like a wild cougar; all pent up energy, waiting for the right moment to spring. No, perhaps he was a snake searching for an opportunity. No, maybe he was more like a horse- those majestic beasts Delita remembered so little of. The memories were all murky now, hidden behind a wall of fog, so so long ago in a lifetime that hardly seemed to belong to him anymore.
Whatever it was, Delita understood that he and this man were alike. He knew, even before the man strode forwards and introduced himself as Vormov Tingle, that he would say yes. This man- this Vormov knew as well, because all he said was:
"We could use someone like you."
'Yes.' Delita thought, taking Vormov's large hand and allowing the man to heft him to his feet, 'Yes, you could use me.'
If I don't get Delita I'll probably try for Gafgharion. I love writing grizzly old mercenaries. ^ ^
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On an entirely different subject... I'm going shopping with Rebecca today. And cleaning Gregory's microwave tommorow. And I might fit some studying in (I have a math test on Tues.).
Ooooh! What an exilihrating life I lead!
Rebecca and I are heading down to 'The Village'. Or the casterated mall of once-life. Or something. All I know is that it's built upon the lonely remains of a mall I used to frequent in my youth and now it's got a total of, like, 11 stores and no food court. But it's got Fabricville, I suppose, and in the end, isn't that all that matters (don't answer that, Caily. I know what you'll say).
And tommorow... about the microwave thing... listen, the Morris's have never once cleaned out their microwave. EVER! It's disgusting and offensive (much like the mop I'm forced to use at work. Ick) and is most likely to blame with every old-man like mannerism Gregory posseses.
... besides, I eat out of that microwave too and I don't want to fear getting food poisoning every time I go over to play RISK. -.-;;
Steppy, don't worry about you post about the project- you don't have a monopoly on writing a million paragraphs about absolutely nothing. Fear my boring life!
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Tokyo Babylon is very good. I now own the DVD which I cannot watch for lack of PS2 and/or DVD player. So Caily's looking after it for me.
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Mwahahah! I like switching subjects!
I want a Gamecube. But I only want it to play TWIN SNAKES when it comes out. Leslie and I watched the two trailers last night something like three times and sobbed, drooled and reminesced. Caily didn't get it. -.-;; But still, nothing beats a good nostalgia trip in something like 3-million bits.
Okay, I'm done ranting about nothing. I've got to go to work soon anyways. Yey for Saturdays at the Cafe!
*sincerely
Jenn "Sparky" Young of the boring lj posts.