[IC] The Spirits Within / Silversky

ｒ ｕ ｌ ｅ ｓ

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✣ Posting rules are entirely about the flow of the game. Everything depends on situation and activity, so it's difficult to say "Don't do this or that". Sometimes collaborations are necessary, sometimes shorter dialog posts are necessary, sometimes neither of those are appropriate.

✣ The only real rule is about activity, as I've mentioned in the OOC. After two weeks of total silence, that is IC and OOC, I will autopilot your character with mine until I can remove it in a good way. If you come back later, you can make a new character.

ｕ ｐ ｄ ａ ｔ ｅ ｓ

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１４ ａｐｒｉｌ ２０１８ — Start of game. The first part of the story is centered on slice-of-life with occasional elements of other genres such as action/combat. The characters meet for the first time at the U.D.F. headquarters, where they are told why they are there. Later, they are transported to a training facility.

[Mirandae]

Ｕ．Ｄ．Ｆ． Ｈｅａｄｑｕａｒｔｅｒｓ， Ｏａｋｒｉｄｇｅ， Ｍｏｎｄａｙ ０９：００

---

“Welcome to U.D.F. headquarters, how may I assist you?” The formally dressed woman behind a reception counter greeted an arriving guest. It was a drizzly morning outside in the city of Oakridge. Dark clouds hung low among the skyscrapers. Amelia had arrived by train the night before, quite late. It was a six hour ride from Helston to Oakridge, so she had only clocked a modest amount of sleep. Perhaps it was the doziness, but the headquarters of the military warmachine of the entire world was not what she suspected. It was rather clean and high-tech looking. For some reason, she expected something that was more rough around the edges.

“Hi, uhm, I have this.” Amelia retrieved a tiny, plastic card out of her pocket and handed it to the woman behind the counter. The card was of some manner of chrome coloration with an engraved serial number on it. Every potential recruit of the ‘Silversky’ program had received one as an invitation. The numbers had little meaning to Amelia, but it obviously meant something to the receptionist, as she began to submit them to the computer system. The card had been given to Amelia on that day that the U.D.F. agents came knocking on the door back home. She was to show up at the headquarters on this day, at this time, and present the card. The instructions had been very precise and clear.

“You are now logged in the system. If you would be so kind as to follow this gentleman here. He will take you where you need to go.” The woman gestured to a nearby man, who was wearing a matching outfit—the official uniform of the U.D.F., without doubt. Amelia said nothing and simply trotted along by his side. As she caught a glimpse of his face and expression, the man appeared rather indifferent or dull about his duty. He was rather young, a bit meek looking, on the shorter side. Amelia had a feeling that he had once been rejected by the military and been put on a non-combative assignment. Or perhaps a missed opportunity plagued his facial features. Whatever it was, he managed to maintain posture like a professional.

The U.D.F. headquarters felt more like a maze than a coherent structure. They passed what seemed like a myriad of different rooms that all had completely esoteric purposes. Amelia’s gaze fluttered at all the signs and holographic messages displayed on walls and windows. She tried to keep track of all the twists and turns they took, but it was nearly impossible. Her mind did not have the capacity to remember any backtracking or emergency exit. Their little walk ended at an elevator. As the man called the contraption with the press of a button, Amelia seized the moment to take her medication. The man glanced at Amelia awkwardly, as she slightly tilted her frame away from him.

“Allergies,” she said after having downed a little blue and white capsule.
“How unfortunate,” the man said with a nuanced coloration of skepticism. Amelia shifted her expression to inquisition with a hint of lightheartedness.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” She said with a smirk. The man could barely keep the façade of professionalism on his face.
“I do. It’s very unfortunate to have allergies, ma’am.” The man knew fully well that the girl by his side had been sent here because she was a Guardian. He also knew that Guardians do not get sick, nor do they have allergies.
“Right,” Amelia’s eyes rolled slightly. “Where are we going, exactly?”
“We’re going to the 46th floor. There is a comfortable waiting room there. I’ve been instructed to bring you there, and that’s all.”
“Alright. If you say so,” Amelia said and followed the man into the elevator.

The waiting room was much like a miniature garden. Various trees and plants clad an environment with dark furniture. A small area with holographic computer screens and books rested along the wall opposite to the entrance. The man gestured to Amelia to make herself comfortable while she waited. He did not say much before he vanished into the elevator again. The U.D.F. had been very hush-hush about all of this. Amelia knew that this was about her having become a Guardian, but not much else. She had no knowledge of there being more people involved in this, nor what she was waiting for in this tiny garden-room. Either way, the medication would kick in at any moment now, so her mind would not wander as much.

Amelia slowly strolled around the room. She inspected the botany, the books, and what was on the holo-screen. Whoever had been here earlier had left ‘Frontline’ open in the browser window. The news about the war was being constantly streamed and updated, all around the clock. A glance at the front page showed that U.D.F. Airborne was gearing up for an offensive. The bookshelf just above the screen had an odd selection of works. There were military manuals mixed with classic literature. The military reads old classics? Amelia thought to herself with bewilderment. Her spirits had begun to emerge from her body, slowly swirling around the room. Amelia had gotten used to it by now, so she barely noticed it. The spirits had various hues of blue and purple, and took the shapes of creatures such as bees, echidnas, rays, geckos, eels, and spiders—a very odd collection.

The girl finally sat down in one of the couches, and sighed. The medication had begun to settle. She felt a bit more relaxed, but the room felt warmer despite the air conditioning. Amelia wore a pair of ripped jeans along with breathable sneakers and a roomy sweater. It was not terribly hot outside this time of the year, end of May, but the cloudy and drizzly weather did dampen the temperatures, slightly. Either way, now came the waiting game—waiting for whatever, something, she had no idea.

[Renny]

Simba Etana

---

Simba was not happy. The exact opposite of what he wanted happened, the one thing he had been avoiding occurred. The question of how ran through his mind more times than he could remember since the U.D.F.'s appearance. Sure, a couple of incidents happened around him; a few cult members dealt with here, a wannabe Guardian there, but--

He ceased his inner rambling. It was idiotic to actually relive the reason why, while wondering why. He had messed up big-time, let his straying dislike of certain things or people expose himself. Now he was being led by some U.D.F. security guard to some waiting room. Honestly up until that point, everything had passed by in a blur. He could vaguely remember being asked for his I.D. card but besides that he was left alone with his thoughts. He wasn't keen on speaking with anyone, in fact he had taken pride in his solitude. It made him stronger, freer.

But the silence also comforted him.

Naturally he knew it was his choice to be alone but sometimes when people spoke, it was like hearing them under water. All muffled and dampened. Overtime he learned to focus and shut down that horrible filter. But it was too late, he had grown use to the dead sounds. So he backed away from people and instead found comfort in the utter, if not complete silence.

Inside the waiting room, Simba spared the girl and dancing spirits a glance. She was cute, a tad above-average but nothing amazing. Next he noticed the books, now those were far more attractive. He stepped towards the shelves, dropped his duffel-bag and plucked out a classical read. He never needed much to decided whether to read a book or not, often times he just read whatever he was drawn too. So he settled down on the couch and begun to silently go over the words.

As he ignored the soft light-show around him, he could feel his spirits seeping out. Sea-bound creatures bubbled from his body, floating out from his black-tee and large moss-green hoodie. Purple poisonous jellyfishes rose from his dark jeans and boots, large sun-hued eels had begun to occupy the space overhead. If he let all of them roam free, he was afraid the U.D.F. would suspect his origins, investigate his past, his connections with Sinnu. So he stopped them there; containing the more abundant, massive creatures inside.

He groaned with displeasure, shifting in his chair.

[AlteredTundra]

---

---

For the majority of the past decade, Jackson had been doing everything he could to remain off the grid. Since it had been brought to his attention that his status as a Guardian was leaked, he had been doing his best to avoid the larger regions in Libra. He stuck to remote, fishing villages, mountain towns, and staying at inns in this town and that town. He spent no more than a single day and some hours into the morning in a single town he might have been staying at the time. He never knew when he might run into trouble. Knowing Jackson’s tendency to bring trouble to him, regardless if he intentionally caused it, was always a recurring thing for him.

This was the life that Jackson had to abide by to avoid the U.D.F. He may not like it and, at times, had tested the limits of how much he wanted to stay out of their clutches.

So, if Jackson truly was on his best behavior and did everything he could to stay away from the general populace, how in the fiery hell did he find himself being escorted by the very people he was trying to avoid into the very building he was doing his best to avoid?

“Please come this way, Mr. Drake.”

“Fuck off.”

“Don’t make us drag you.”

Jackson glared at the three men who proved to be of, if not larger,, size compared to his frame. Jackson himself wasn’t a skinny man, but compared to the behemoths that had escorted him were poised to be the potential end of Jackson Drake’s short life. He’s way too awesome to be done in by a some glorified mall cops. So, he made the conscious choice to walk into the elevator by his choice and his choice alone, though that didn’t stop him from speaking his mind about what he thought.

“I don’t know how you found me. I’m pretty good at covering up my tracks, you know. Second to none, Jackson Drake is number one at stealth and keeping his identity close to his vest.”

The men said nothing, so Jackson kept his mouth going. “I don’t even belong here. I’m not even that skilled of a fighter. I’m a weakling, so this is pretty useless.”

Still, they’ve kept their silence, almost seeming like they were monks or something.

“Whatever. I’ll just keep my opinions to myself, or wait until someone else who’ll actually engage in an active conversation. One-sided bits are always so dull, wouldn’t you agree?”

He didn’t get even one facial reaction. Just as well because the elevator doors opened after what seemed like forever Jackson was led through the halls. They were as to be expected of a place so far into the future design-wise. Jackson took no particular interest in looking around. His main interest was arriving to his destination. That would happen sooner rather than later as the guards relieved Jackson. They some things that he hadn’t really been listening to. He simply walked into the room and — well, Jackson couldn’t contain his surprise.

“This place is bitchin!” His loud tone was like a dagger to the serene atmosphere the room had. There were assorted trees and plantlife, a pond or two (or so Jackson assumed), and the kind of music that really emphasized the spa-like ambience that, if he hadn’t been dragged here by the Rental Cops Idiot Squad, he wouldn’t mind waiting here for whatever reason.

He walked into the room, taking a seat not so far off from the other two who had already been waiting that he wouldn’t be isolated from their interactions, yet he didn’t want to be one of those weirdos who sat next to someone when, as it was clear as day, there were multiple seats to take.

So he did. With the sounds of his combat-styled boots making unique noises on the smooth floor, Jackson’s jeans collided with the leather chair he sat on.

Now he waited for something to happen. He waited for anything to happen.

“I fucking hate waiting.” He spoke to himself, feeling Ifrit’s presence within him. The water was, it seemed, stirring his fire up. Jackson did his best to sit as far away from the water as he could, but even that wasn’t enough. Well, hopefully they wouldn’t be kept much longer.

[Mirandae]

Ｆｌａｓｈｂａｃｋ： Ｈｅｌｓｔｏｎ．

---

“Do you have everything?” An old, husky voice asked after having managed up the stairs with slow, heavy steps. Amelia knew that anything of value was within her possessions, but chose not to answer. The man leaned against the frame of the doorway leading into her room of the house. It had been Amelia’s home ever since she was born, for better and worse.

“Amelia--”
“Save it,” the girl interrupted. The man brooded for a moment, contemplating all that was and all that would be after this day. Every ride had an end. The only thing a man could do was to choose how it would end. This man had made his choices, just as Amelia had made hers.
“So, that’s it? Everything just ends here?” He finally spoke again after having observed the girl pack her things neatly into a U.D.F. issued seabag.
“There is no ‘everything’. You lied to me and you drove her to madness. There is nothing, literally nothing that you can say that will fix any of this,” Amelia said. The man remained silent. He knew that she was right, but as with all good things coming to an end, those on the side of despair always try to hang on. After a while, when Amelia had finished packing her bag, standing head to head with the man blocking the doorway, he spoke again. It seemed as though he had accepted this fate. He only had one request.
“At least deliver a message to my son, if you find him.”
Amelia was expressionless, deep under on her medication, but did not resist.
“Tell him to come home. That’s it. No strings attached,” the man said and backed away from the doorway, so that Amelia could pass through. While she was disappointed and distraught, she was not heartless.
“I will," she nodded and left.

Ｐｒｅｓｅｎｔ： Ｕ．Ｄ．Ｆ． Ｈｅａｄｑｕａｒｔｅｒｓ， Ｏａｋｒｉｄｇｅ．

---

Geez, what's with this guy? Amelia thought to herself.

It was not too often that Amelia encountered someone of Livrian descent. He could also have been south Ceacrian, but she doubted it. Either way, he seemed agitated about something. The big entrance, throwing his things around, dashing towards the books as if the world was coming to a boring end—maybe he did not want to be here for whatever reason. Amelia subtly observed him, but could not help to roll her eyes. It was not until he sat down and his spirits began to appear that she put two and two together. He was probably here for the same reason that Amelia was, which she did not actually know, but she was not about to ask this guy. The shapes that his spirits took were fascinating, though, as some of them were similar to hers.

It was not too often that Amelia saw someone of Livrian descent. He could also have been south Ceacrian, but she doubted it. Either way, he seemed agitated about something. The big entrance, throwing his things around, dashing towards the books as if the world was coming to a boring end—maybe he did not want to be here for whatever reason. Amelia subtly observed him, but could not help to roll her eyes. It was not until he sat down and his spirits began to appear that she put two and two together. He was probably here for the same reason that Amelia was, which she did not actually know, but she was not about to ask this guy. The shapes that his spirits took were fascinating, though, as some of them were similar to hers.

Guest after guest just seemed to drop in. The next one made an even louder entrance. Boys will be boys, she thought to herself. Amelia just prayed that the two would not start some kind of pissing contest, like the guys did back home in Helston about everything. The last one to arrive seemed especially hot headed, having managed to say both bitch and fuck within a matter of moments. Amelia crossed her arms and sighed. The older looking guy was right. What were they even waiting for? She assumed all of this had something to do with the Guardian thing, whatever it was supposed to mean. Amelia had never given much thought to spirits and such. The typical gift offering and prayer was just something she did because everyone else did it. But, perhaps it was not meaningless. Perhaps whatever this U.D.F. circus was would show some kind of purpose to it all.

“Do any of you know why we’re here? They didn’t say much,” Amelia asked.

[Sep]

Chodak

---

Chodak bowed his head at the receptionist, who gave him a somewhat quizzical look, as he handed over the card that he had been given. He had done his best to remain away from the notice of the U.D.F. He knew what they'd ask of him, they'd ask him to fight. Take life, though that was something he would not do. He wouldn't perpetuate the cycle of violence and destruction, but he would seek an end to it. There was always more than one side to every story. She checked him into the system before looking back at him. "Sorry sir, we don't appear to have your last name on file, what is it?"

Chodak smiled back politely and shrugged. "I don't have one. That would imply a level of attatchment that doesn't fit with my position." The receptionist merely nodded, and indicated down the hall. He turned and walked with the escorts. His bare feet on the ground didn't feel the cold of the smooth floors, but he in his full robes and bald bar a long ponytail did get quizzical looks from the few people they passed in the halls. To each he bowed his head respectfully. One or two obviously recognising him as an Idallin Monk and nodded back out of respected. To those he also greeted with a smile. He couldn't blame anyone for their stares or their questioning eyebrows, he was out of place surrounded by these uniforms. He had been out of place from the moment he had entered the city, he wasn't fond of the experience. People had detatched themselves from nature, the very place they came from and the lifeblood of their world. A world, ironically, that they sought to protect.

He particularly disliked the elevator, a hanging metal box detatched from all sources of earth. He could feel the spirits within him churning at the sensation, they were all connected to the element as was he. Chodak had spent years in the mountains meditating on the very ground that he sat upon. Now he was suddenly detatched, and he had to say he hated the sensation. He was much happier when they reached the floor and he stepped out, the guards indicated to a door. He clasped his hands and bowed his thanks to them. As he walked to the room he closed his eyes, a smile crossing his face. From what he could tell he wasn't the only one here, and the room ahead was spectacular.

Entering the room Chodak surveyed the other inhabitants, again nodding his head politely. Then without a second thought he walked over to one of the grass features in the room, stepping lightly onto it. He felt a slight tingle run up from his feet as he was once again connected to something natural and alive, rather than manmade. Smiling he sat cross legged facing the room. He didn't speak, someone would speak to him when the time was right. If he had to guess from their odd assortment of clothes, not one of them was U.D.F, and likely all of them had just recieved summons such as him.

What was going on?

[Rockette]

. . . . . .

There had been a storm that day. With waves crashing against the docks, tides whipped into a maelstrom whilst she boarded with all the regalia of an Oracle slowly disengaged from her veneer, all pearls and jewels suspended upon lithesome gestures and into the coffers of her former vassals bidden to her upon her voyage. Upon the gales of the sea a terrifying roar rent the whorls unto suspenseful wails of defiance, power and spades of tell tale wrath coiling the air to grey and black. Swollen skies threatened to split and yawn open with a torrent of refusal and denial to what she knew as the performance of her Mistress undone by her own emotive methods of rage.

Well, former Mistress.

That thread of detachment remained frayed and delicate whilst they embarked from Insomnia's port and across the sea to Dunwall before a U.D.F transit had taken her to Oak Ridge within a sleek model serialized as a military transport of the latest design. Curiously, through the entire journey, she had remained quiet and seemingly contemplative. More so interested within the dark clouds banked on the Northern shores that had finally ceased mid-way across the ocean, and to the glimmering rays of sun that broke beyond the wall of Levithan's might tinged in glimmers of scarlet tread liken to a gaping maw threatening to swallow the sky whole. Fingers threaded over her breast wherein beads of sapphire were polished and a silent prayer poured from silken lips, her head then bowed. She had remained in such a way for the remainder of the excursion until a queerly silent escort had roused her from her vigil none too gently with a shake to her shoulder.

She seemed almost appalled, and said: "You are the first to touch me outside my vassals. Incredible."

That statement alone conjored at least five feet of space given to her ambiance whilst she left the carrier and gazed heavenward at the facility looming before her, and gaped.

Evelina was no stranger to grand fixtures of stone and steel, harsh metal glinting in the allowed weather that sired high above her crown, but the U.D.F was nothing if not impressive within such high-tech quality. Her delicate gestures passed over idle furnishings, carrying herself with a subtle tenor of regal bearings and queenly poise that was difficult to shed even crossing into military functions. She procured her card with ease, without having been probed and wreathed a smile of both delicacy and serenity.

"Evelina Fleurane," she greeted, head canted for just a second whilst the receptionist merely blinked, after having witnessed quite a phalanx of potential allies coming in through the foyer - some flight driven and distracted and others seething with rage - it was alarmingly peculiar to witness one within her bearings and grace. She was nothing, however, if not professional and typed in her arrival with a soft exhale.

"Uhm, yes. You're - oh wow, Your Grace, I mean!" She collected herself admirably, rising from behind the counter. "Please just follow these gentlemen here. Uh, please enjoy your time with the U.D.F"

She beamed, sallow cheek punctuated with her simper whilst her escorts led her down a myriad of halls and turns, familiar to the vast estate she was often used to and the altar that led to a series of incredible pathways and depresses within the stone to reach the peak. Still maintaining their wide berth, they led her through an elevator, again a luxury she was well accustomed to, and with her hands primly folded at her front and aligned with her waist, Evelina approached the waiting room as if knowing where to go.

Her interchanging eyes of roseate glimmered with the prospect lying beyond the doors, her chest rising with an inhale that hissed through her teeth, a peculiar surge of energy rising to meet her veneer suddenly aglow in wonder.

"My, what power."

Her escorts exchanged a glance over her slight crown, uneasy.

"Thank you gentlemen," Evelina breathed and stepped into the waiting room almost too eagerly.

The facility was well furnished and beautiful, natural and yet not, a well mesh of two concepts that was pleasing to the eye and a balm to the nerves when faced with such critical advancement. Though donned in simplistic threads, all black on black, her sweater loose, her trousers tight and heeled boots laced to her ankles. Evelina was purposely done down, with her pale and translucent hair parting just so into her eyes when she regarded the occupants with her, and the spirits manifested between. Her smile was entranced, her gaze following each apparition as they coiled and glided on unforeseen strings of fate and power. She fluttered her fingers idly, as if bidden each to her gesture whilst she followed them to their rightful homes. A playful breeze pulled upon her tresses as she approached one of them, fixated and apparently lacking the social graces to acknowledge everyone in the room as she came close to the brunette reclined onto one of the couches.

"May I?" Eveline inquired, gesturing to one of the purple hued spiders curiously crawling amidst the tendrils of a jelly fish lurking above.

[AlteredTundra]

---

---

There was quite the number of items that crossed Jackson's mind since he had made his unwilling arrival into the waiting room. He thought about what he was doing before he was encouraged to come to the U.D.F. Headquarters. His mind then wandered to the simple things that this world had to offer: the mountain ranges, the monuments built in honor of fallen warriors and the like, the plains that were so relaxing with the breeze of the wind on Jackson's face, and hell, even his burnt down village held a sort of sentimental value for Jackson. He had revisited it a few things over the decade he was exploring the world.

All of those things went through his mind but not once did he think about why he was here nor did he care. As far as he was concerned, these U.D.F. fuckwads can shove it where the sun don't shine. Not only didn't he care, if asked, Jackson may very well make their lives even more difficult. Was it childish? Perhaps. Was Jackson too old of a man to play these games? Never. If they wanted to drag him against his will like a child, then may the god's smite them and their children, he was going to act accordingly.

There was a time and a place for everything. Jackson couldn't remember where he heard that; probably from some book he was read to as a child. Who the hell knows, but it certainly applied to what he was feeling and experiencing at this very moment.

Jackson outstretched his arms and legs and unleashed an unreasonably, loud yawn. His eyes then went around the room. There had been new arrivals since the last time he checked. Added to the kid who kept to himself, some bald monk-type person joined them and then some young blonde. Jackson's attention stayed with her briefly, seeing her doing something with one of the fish. He shrugged, choosing to focus more on what that other chick had asked.

Before addressing that question asked, Jackson, did something unthinkable. He would actually consider his words carefully. Shocking to anyone who experienced his previous outburst, which was the kid with the fade and that brunette, he took just a few moments. And then, with a vocal 'a-ha', Jackson had then spoken, "Your guess is as good as mine, sweetheart. All I know is these dickweeds forced me here without so much as a valid reason. I'll tell you this, though," he leaned forward, vision going all around the room as if to garner the attention of everyone in the room, "if they don't hurry it up, I'm bouncing like one of them super balls. you know, the ones colored in swirls and that bounce as high as the eye can see." He nodded to himself as if confirming his resolve of what he just said.

[Renny]

Simba Etana

---

Too many people had arrived in such a short time. Page eleven of his classical read was interesting but it was nowhere near enough to keep his attention from the newest recruit. He lifted his gaze over the leather-bound book, and for a moment admired the subtle, dressed-down elegance that this woman exuded. Not even he could downplay her beauty. Though he had the assumption that it had more to do with her presence than her actual appearance.

If he had to compare the two women in the room, their aura or airs' were the only thing of drastic difference. Without making it overly obvious that something else had garnered his attention besides his book, Simba let out a hushed sigh. It could have been interpreted as annoyance, for it happened right after Jackson's colorful metaphor.

"It's obvious."

He closed the book, his thumb a makeshift bookmark. His dark gaze found Amelia, "We're all Host to the Spirits, all drug here without consent." The callous tone of his voice softened. "We've been drafted ... if not something worse."

Just hearing himself say it felt like being socked in the gut. This was his new reality; whatever trials it laid before him and all of its issues were now his and as usual he hadn't even asked for it. The Spirits inside him seemed calmer despite his growing anxiety. His eyes flickered to the potty-mouth, then to the monk, before finally lingering on the pale one. For some reason she made him feel uneasy.

He cringed inwardly, brows furrowing and jaw tightening before returning to his read.

"The gods must loathe us all for we must rise to meet unfathomable darkness."

That was a passage from the book he was reading, it felt appropriate.

[Rockette]

. . . . . .

With fingers poised absently in delicate ministrations, Evelina was hardly known to the other occupants permeating the room within spiritual quantities of their own. Emotional disturbances bled abundantly within hues of glimmering carmine and hued down violets, queerly meshing betwixt brilliant qualities of colour and bidding roseate eyes from the arachnid curiously still aside its' master. She had risen to full stature, overlapping gestures at her front and regarded the man with his voice and candor gushing with pure emote the hue of infernos and sweltering flame. His baritone was coated with bite and bleeding, scarlet tinged on those teeth and hosted a ruthless and brutish beauty that stirred a swelling of warrior intrigue through her scrutiny. Such vocalizations were lost upon her upbringing, sired upon cooling words and delicate dalliances of the voice of prayer and faith. Eveline admired the barbarism of his very intrigue, he was a blemish upon the world, rose coloured and jagged; almost blasphemous and damning.

"Hmm..." Canting her head to the conversation at hand, and effectively dismissing her consensus with a flicker of blonde tresses, Evelina's gaze bloomed to mauve undertones whilst she cast her stare onto another. Did they not know? Those present were a considerable balm to the weeping reds of the other Guardian - she deduced such upon the sheer amount of power within the foyer - and was entirely grateful for the momentary reprieve from admirable rage. Here there existed a wealth of brooding sapphires, punctuated by violets and cupped delicately by hues of moss and emerald, wed to an irony of turbulent peace. Mysterious as the myriad of sea creatures clustered about his crown, she mused and found a kindred swelling stirring within her breast, and almost beamed. However, a brow lifted, minute and briefly, and her expression was toned pale in complexity.

"Consent? You didn't come of your own accord?" Such a revelation was vexing, as Evelina had been waiting upon the docks in Insomnia for nearly a day and a half before the U.D.F had come to collect. She had known their arrival would come, and awaited as the regal creature she was, or had been, she amended swiftly.

"I've come at my own desire," Evelina admitted, proffering her full profile. "Such was just simply meant to be, as you are now here, and thus have also been meant for this. As we all are."

"And lo', I looked into that darkness the Gods had cast me unto to, and loathe my heart might've been, yonder such was a light, beautiful and knowing, and knew I did, that I had been chosen."

[Sep]

Chodak

---

Chodak shook his head. He had to admit, there had been fear on the reasoning for him being brought here. The Universe had called, and he had answered. He hadn't expected to be confronted with the fact that they would be expected to fight, and kill. "Just because we are expected to be protectors, this doesn't mean we have to kill. There is always an alternative, rather than to condemn ourselves and others to the continued suffering." He stood up slowly, looking around the room and all the other individuals gathered together.

Everyone was here for a reason, he truly believed that. He also believed that his role in this was to help guide the group to avoid condemning themselves. There had been Guardians in the past who had sought violence, pain, and domination. Rumours surfaced that such individuals existed in modern days, he couldn't believe that is why they were chosen. They were chosen to help restore peace, and bring balance back to a disturbed world. Only then could their spirits rest, and their hosts with them.

"Patience, and all will be answered within time."

[AlteredTundra]

---

---

”How long are they going to keep us for?”

Jackson impatiently stomped his boots on the smooth floor, a quick series of tapping noises reverberating through the seemingly empty walls. When he found himself being forced to sit still in a room he wasn’t familiar with and with people he didn’t know, he got antsy; and when Jackson got antsy, one could say he was even more irritable than usual. That, given what has already been displayed by the large male, was saying something. Being forced into this situation did nothing but put him in a sour mood from the get-go. Jackson’s only saving grace was the shared opinion that waiting wasn’t an option, or at least, not welcomed.

Of course, there was always that one guy who was the odd man out. This was represented in the monk who was the last one to show arrive. Jackson didn’t give him much attention in the beginning because he had more important things to focus on - well, really, he just didn’t care, but when you voice an opinion that an already-pissed off man disagreed with, it wouldn’t take a neurosurgeon to figure out what his next course of action would be.

“To hell with your patience. We’ve been waiting here long enough.”

Jackson stood up, taking one last glance around the room. The same eyes that had scanned the room several times over when they were trying to alleviate some of the boredom that was gathered by just sitting down were now scanning the room for a different reason. They had purpose and fire in them. Though not completely visible, Jackson’s demeanor was no longer one of misguided frustration. It too had a purpose and that purpose was to find the god-forsaken exit.

“You can sit around and do nothing if you want, Baldo. I, for one, am going to force their hand so we can get some fucking answers!” Jackson pounded his fists together, fiery determination oozing from his body.