Antediluvixen

The Ghost of Napoleon

The Ghost of Napoleon

@Lauder@Yam I Am

The Ghost of Napoleon

I shall stake my place as the Land of the Poles! Maybe this time they won’t be eaten by three separate countries and constantly turned into a puppet country!

Poland can into space!

@Lauder

muahahhahhhahahahhahahahhahahahahhahaha

The Ghost of Napoleon

Radical Decembrists sparking a bloody civil war anyone?

Fire Emblem: Legacy of the Empyrean Throne

Noriko, Alba, and Toda

---

Noriko sighed, lowering her voice so only Toda could hear, as she became more cognisant of Bhaskara listening in. "Yeah, yeah, I may be THE leader, I know. But... shit, this is why I picked you." She gestured vaguely to her injuries, "I'm good at finding a way out of trouble - but I'm also prone to getting into it in the first place. I'm plenty smart at some things - and terrible at others. I may be THE leader, but I'm not a leader. Not a natural one like old Astrid, at any rate."

As she opened up to the Oshan, he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. He matched her tone with covert intent and he couldn't help but prod her with a silent quip. "I don't need your résumé," he gave her a small smile, "but that doesn't change anything. Everyone's a leader when they are one. How they lead, whether good or bad, will come clear soon enough."

Noriko grinned. "And you know how that's gonna go, don't you? Bad. Definitely, definitely bad. I've gotta intuit my way out of this mess somehow with half the company thinking I killed the previous leader and the other half barely seeming to remember her. Still, one vote of confidence is far better than zero, true enough." She sighed, thinking for a moment before she spoke to him again. "Guess I never really did tell you why I picked you, did I?"

Immediately, he returned her with a half-serious, half-jovial retort. "Lesson one. Don't tell your second in command you're going to do bad until you've done bad - otherwise when I have to report to all they'll either be fed a terrible truth or I'd have to lie, and I'm not one to do so to honest friends." Then, he pondered over her lead on point. Picked him? Well, the chosen usually do wonder, he thought. "It's crossed the mind once or twice. Depends if you think now is a good time to tell me, or if you'd rather wait for a more private hour."

"A more private hour, is that it?" she replied, raising an eyebrow as she spoke. "Why, Ujiteru-san I did not know you harbored such feelings! And to be so bold!" She grinned widely at him, almost as if a predator surveying a particularly juicy cut of meat. "But of course, the discourse of such important matters of the company must wait, sorry, kid." She said, winking at Bhaskara, "It's for 'private hours' only."

Ujiteru paused for a second. He should've been used to that sort of quip, if it were one, and he should've been ready for it, having practically given her an invitation to make such a fool of him. Nevertheless, he didn't try to let it squander or crush his self-esteem. After all, if she were insinuating that he was never the type for anyone. "Stop projecting." He first huffed, rolling the eyes, "Someone might start thinking you were desperate."

"Thinking I'm desperate, is that it?" She mused out loud, "Guess that's why I've got this new knife, huh? Some poor fellow mistook the signs. Saw a lonely girl drunk in the bar just begging to be penetrated, eh?" She grinned wider, "Ah but alas both of his blades are surely far too small to satisfy anyone. A shame."

At that moment, his grin turned to a mixture of discomfort and the feeling of being unsure. He looked at Bhaskara, then back to the Captain before them. Poor child, he thought to himself, even if the lad was old enough to not be called such things. "Uh - well...hmm." He was stumped for a second on what to say. "Perhaps your first step as being a leader is choosing which words you say around...certain members."

Noriko recognized the meaning behind his words, but after a moment's introspection, scoffed at him. "Bah! If the boy's old enough to hear a man choking out his last breath miles from home, he's old enough to hear the captain making a dirty joke." She shook her head. "Honestly, what are you lot coming to? Tch, back when I was his age..."

"-back when you were his age, you weren't the mercenary Captain." He gave a deadpan stare before huffing to himself once more. It mattered not in the grand scheme, and the two were arguing over what might as well have been spilt milk, not to mention removing the agency from Bhaskara. He raised his hand and settled for the status quo of changing subject, he turned around and occupied his eyes elsewhere down the street, watching over all that bustled around them. "Another time, then. You have a day to spend free."

Noriko shot him a look filled with a mixture of amusement and disdain. "A day to spend free?" She asked, raising an eyebrow incredulously. "A whole day you say? Tch, no, no. No that's for you, and for the others. I have the morning free, and that's about all there will be. Let the captain enjoy her free morning." She shook her head, sighing in exaggerated exasperation.

Her ear twitched, and she turned to face another direction, away from her second in command, following the sound. A second later the words of that one wolfskin girl - Alba, if she recalled correctly, drifted in to her. Noriko's features instantly widened into a smile, and she waved back, striding across the square towards the other woman, heedless of the stares directed her way at the dagger protruding from her back, or the cuts and bruises that marred her skin, or the blood clotting in her clothes. "Alba! A pleasure as always!"

Alba jogged over to the group. "Cap'n!" Alba's eye went wide as she drew closer. She eyed Noriko's various scratches, cuts, and bruises. Alba detected the smell of booze wafting off Noriko. "Wow. You look like shit. Already havin' fun without the group, eh?"

Noriko grinned wide. "Aye you bet I am! Got a free knife out of the deal too! Such generous fellows here in Nohr! Perhaps I've been wrong about 'em!" She winked, clapping her on the shoulder, "So what's brought you into the city today? I never much took you for the type. You seem more at home elsewhere."

"S'pose you can say that. The city's too much for myself." Alba let out an awkward chuckle. "Just sellin' some game from earlier today." The wolf-woman's ears twitched in visible frustration. "Not much coin in it though. Guess it was probably just a waste of time." She paused for a moment. "Between you in me, I'm really hopin' for some work soon. You know, just to stay busy."

Noriko smiled, reaching out a hand and patting the other on the back. "Nah, I get you. I like cities, spent a lot of time in 'em growing up. But these Nohrian ones... bad memories." She sighed, "But there should be work aplenty soon enough, I think. We've still matters to resolve about our last contract before, eh... before Astrid died. I've got some paperwork to do once I find a healer and get these little papercuts closed up. Then we'll get you something proper to fight."

Alba patted Noriko on the back in kind. "A fight sounds good. I'll leave that business stuff to you and Toda." Alba took a step back, awkwardly scratching the back of her head. "I'm not really cut out for all that. S'pose I'll try and be makin' myself useful someplace else, yeah?"

Noriko chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, tell y'the truth it's hardly my preferred field either." She sighed, "Always been more at hand hitting things and thinking about how to get people in the correct place to hit things. The details for how much we get paid for hitting things?" She shook her head. "Eh, practice makes perfect, I suppose. I'll leave you to it unless you'd like to tag along, best I get back to work."

The Grim Crusade - A Warhammer 30000 RP

The Council of Nikaea
After the Duel
Eiohsa’s private quarters, aboard the Ultima Ratio

The private quarters of the Sixteenth Primarch had changed substantially since last Kaldun had seen them. The tables and benches that filled its hall still lay covered in half-assembled machines and half-realized dreams, manuscripts and technical documentation, but they had been pushed aside rather haphazardly to make way for a bed - though the term was loose at best.

A veritable army of machinery hummed and whirred about the Sixteenth Primarch as she lay within her quarters, staring vacantly into the void above her. Dark thoughts raged within her, a black thunderstorm that roiled with the contained energy of the gods as it fought against her mind. She stared up with eyes unblighted by scars and the damage of her duel. Both hands had been attached to various diagnostic equipment that maintained a steady readout of all her vital information. What was most notable was what was not there. A conspicuous absence beneath the blankets that covered her form, wherein her left leg ought have been. She barely breathed, staring blankly ahead as her mind replayed, in perfect detail, the events of the duel. Over and over and over and over and over again. She felt her body begin to burn. She felt the hands that grabbed at her. They had been so real. She had even forgotten, for a time, who it was she fought - and why. A part of her longed to simply lie within this room until the end of time. To rot away and disappear into the shifting winds of the universe. Part of her wanted someone to come and end her now - a final mercy.

But none came, and her mind turned its formidable might inwards upon her as she stewed in isolation.

The doors to her chamber slammed open with a loud bang as Kaldun kicked them open and strode through, a barrel of ale in hand. “Sister! I have come to celebrate your glorious battle against our brother! Even though it may have ended in defeat, you put up a good fight and showed the world the might of the Sixteenth Legion!glorious battle against our brother! Even though it may have ended in defeat, you put up a victorious fight and showed the galaxy the might of the Sixteenth Legion! Not only that, you showed Augor that his ‘oath’,” here Kaldun made dismissive air quotes with his free hand, “would neither be easy to fufi nor would it be likely! While victory would have been preferred, I see no reason to mourn this defeat!”

He paused, looking at Eiohsa. “And yet, instead of being among your daughters singing songs of victory, I find you here mourning! Why?! There is no reason to do so!” He sat down next to her, cracking open the barrel of ale. “There is, however, a reason to drink!”

Eiohsa didn’t respond initially, staring listlessly at the ceiling. After a moment, she turned her head to face her brother, her eyes blank and focused on some point half past him in the distance. “Celebrate?” She asked, scarcely comprehending him. “What is there to celebrate? The madman will continue his mission to destroy me. He will bring harm to who knows how many. He will lay waste to all I hold dear, if he can.” Her words were hollow, as though she scarcely realized their meaning, reciting from some blank manuscript within her mind. “I will have been humiliated before the galaxy by his broadcast. I do not matter. But my legion? My people? My cause?” She shook her head, returning to her prone position on the bed. “Had I been at my peak, I would have destroyed him. And humanity would have been better for it.”

Kaldun turned his head, like a confused puppy. “A good fight is always worth celebrating! Even if Augor was foolish enough to break his word to the Warmaster, effectively breaking his word to our Father or Ominssah as he calls him, he isn’t stupid enough to think that destroying your empire would actually help the Imperium! And even if he is so stupid as to think that would do anything other than harm the Crusade, as soon as he tries he will be punished for not only treason but being an Oathbreaker! And then I will be able to fight him, and I won’t be as distracted as you were during the fight! I watched the recording with Usriel! You lost focus several times, though given your empathy and recent events it was not unexpected!”

He shook his head, sloshing his ale as he gestured to emphasize his point. “If you had killed him, you would have been a traitor! Killing your family in a duel would have turned the whole of the Imperium against you, and may I remind you that you already have a good chunk of the Imperium against you in our other siblings and their legions! No, even if you would have handily crushed him without other issues bothering you, no deaths was the best outcome of the duel! It ensured a final end, and a way to protect you should he not see that end!”

“He will pursue it regardless, Kaldun. He is a mad dog, convinced of his own absolute dogma without exception. Those who challenge it must be purged, in his eye.” A single tear ran down her cheek. “And now I have brought ruin and death to my people. To what extent, I do not know.”

“But… I… I would not have killed him. Just as he would not have killed me.” She murmured, “I would have, however, humbled him before the Imperium and his cult, and shown humanity the power of truth.” She looked up to him. “Do you know what I saw when I fought him, brother? You saw my distractions, as did all who observed. But do you know what it was that distracted me during that fight?”

“Eiohsa, either you would have killed him, or nothing would have changed! If you had spared him he would have just claimed that your witch powers, powers he possesses no less, overcame him and he is still in the right and blah blah blah, you know how he gets! You can’t humble those fanatics! You can only end them! Augor is, so far, a loyal servant to our father and the Imperium at large! Even if he is a fanatic. Killing him is the only way to stop his kind and you could not kill him! This was a duel you were set up to lose!” He shook his head, finishing his ale and refilling it from the barrel. “My best guess was thoughts of revenge on Sarghaul or grief over your daughter, but I did not truly know, no!” He snorted and laughed to himself at the accidental wordplay.

“I saw you.” She murmured. “I saw you. And Daena. And Wolfram. And all of the others. And the Emperor.” Another tear rolled down her cheek. “I… I had failed. All of you were judging me. Sentencing me to death. I had forgotten I was even fighting Augor. I was sentenced to die by the nameless, faceless monster I fought.” She coughed, pushing herself upright as she looked her brother in the eye. “I relived the destruction of Arretius - the first world destroyed by my hand. I felt the heat. I felt their betrayal. Fresher than it has ever been. You do not understand, brother. The very earth itself warred against me, I could swear it.” Even to Kaldun, she could not bring herself to reveal the full truth. The skeletal hands that gripped her flesh and tore bloody chunks of her body from her, trying to drag her into the ground. The hungry malice of the earth as it tried to consume her whole in rage against its creator - she who had failed humanity. Daena standing over her, ready to end her on the Emperor’s words. “It was horrible.”

Kaldun waved a dismissive hand, ale sloshing over once more. “Stress visions! Some of my Golden Legionnaires get them from time to time! With your unrelenting empathy, combined with the horrors that you had witnessed before here, combined with the stress of the council meetings with father, and combined with the duel against your own brother it was all too much! Even for a primarch! Your mind needed release! It found them in relieving horrible memories and creating horrible new visions to torment yourself with! Nothing more, nothing less! Of course they were horrible, they were designed by your own mind against you! Your own worst enemy is yourself, as the saying goes!” He offered her a mug. “Here, drink! It’ll help you feel better!”

“I…” She trailed off. “If your Auxilia are afflicted by similar visions, brother, I implore you not to brush it off as mere stress. Even if it is brought on only by mental trauma, the extent of such cannot be brushed aside as harmless. For their sake, and if not them, for me - look into it?” She tried to force a smile, but was unable to. Dead, emotionless, dispassionate eyes looked up at him, the color seeming to have drained from them. “I am sorry, brother. I do not think it a good idea for me to drink now.”

“They are not visions, I assure you! Even the ones that are seen by our mortal Psykers rarely come to pass, and the ones that do are so broad as they would have been more impressive not to pass! Things like ‘You will die in a hail of laser fire tomorrow!’ When they were the ones blessed with the glory of leading the charge to break through defenses! Or, ‘your mother will die soon!’ When she was already on death's door for months!’” He waved a dismissive hand. “Stress hallucinations! Stress hallucinations! They get a few weeks to months of rest and then they are ready to go back onto the field! You will too, after you rest!” He shrugged and finished the offered mug himself before putting it next to him. “And you have to make sure that you are rested mentally as well as physically! Going into battle like you are, uncertain and stunned, will help no one at all!” He sloshed his ale again, empathetically. “You lost today, that is true! But you won’t lose the next battle! Even if Augor is foolish enough to continue his vendetta, you will be prepared this time! Unless you let this miasma cloud your mind and sight! Do not let this loss erase the victories you achieved from your mind! You have brought the Emperor’s gaze upon Sarghual and his abominations! Their crimes will be revealed and justice brought upon them! By us if we are lucky! You helped prevent the Edict of Tolerance from being removed, a move that surely would have weakened the Imperium! These are all great victories that should be remembered, not forgotten!”

“Assuming I live that long.” She muttered, turning away from him. “I can scarcely recall what was and was not real of that duel, brother. It… it was so real. I felt it. My skin being torn to shreds in their hands I-” she stopped herself, drawing breath. “I was sentenced to death. How am I to know that such will not come soon? Will my final acts be nothing more than sowing more discord within the Imperium than any other before me? I defy the Emperor daily - and I am unable to change. My days are numbered, and I fear that that number is a small one. I was hoping that… I was hoping it would not be until we had finished the crusade. That I could at least do what I was made to do. But if I cannot even do that… what use has the Emperor for a broken tool? And who will do the deed? Nelchitl? It’s selfish - but I don’t want my last moments to be hearing her laughter as she sets off to burn my people.”

“Nonsense!” Kaldun declared, refilling his mug. “You met the Emperor before this duel, yes? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think he told you anything of the sort! Our father is many things, but he is not hesitant and he is not one to beat around the bush! If your death was to be ordered, he would have ordered it while you were away from your strength! He would have ordered it while you were surrounded by those who wanted to kill you anyway and the rest would be loyal enough to accept his order! Then he would tell some lie to your Legion, get them to break down into manageable groups, and have them all massacred!” He paused, drinking from his mug. “Or at least that’s what I would have done!” He said with a shrug. “Point is, if our father wanted you dead the best time would have been right as you stormed in with evidence of Sarghaul’s crimes! You were emotional, distracted, and you have your entire legion here with you! The other legions together would be able to put a perfect ambush to deal with you!”

“But he did not order that, did he? No! What happened when you spoke to our father? Did he scold you, threaten unimaginable punishments for your transgressions, swear upon a false god that he will bring vengeance upon you and your daughters?” He snorted, drinking from his mug again. “I doubt it!”

Eiohsa remained motionless for a time, long enough almost for her brother to believe she might not have heard him, lost in her own mind. But she looked up to him, the normal light blue of her eyes having given way to the same gold they had taken on during the duel. “I… I did. Yes.” She murmured, “I… I asked him if he was going to, even. I told him… that I was tired. That I was ready. That if there was no place for me in the Imperium of the future, to spare me fighting for a utopia I would never see.”

Her gaze dropped from his, looking to the far wall as she stared into space. “He told me that… some day I would build cities and wondrous things for him. That I would some day make reality the dreams cultivated in my mind by his hand. But… how do I know it is not a lie? I did not think it so, then. But now?” She felt empty, dead. Deep within her, a tiny spark struggled against the darkness, a spark she dared not hope could blossom again. “He yet has use for me. I know this. I am a useful tool of his. How many other Legions can do what we do? How many others will follow his orders no matter how many of us die? How many will shun honor and glory to die, forgotten, in the mud and shit and blood of the trenches on some far-flung reach? I, and my Legion, are favored tools. Kaldun. That- that’s what I have come to believe. That is what has allowed me to continue on as I have. And I fear I have finally broken. Or that I am near it. What can be done with a broken tool but to discard it? And yet…” she looked up at him again, some miniscule spark returning to her eyes. “You think… not?”

“Of course not! Even if you are broken, do you just throw away such a valuable tool? No! You broke my mortal father’s spear when we first met! Did you throw away the broken pieces? No! You rebuilt them to be stronger and more efficient! So it should be with you! You believe you are broken! Fine! Rebuild yourself to something stronger!” Kaldun sloshed his mug around to enunciate his point, spilling more baalrosi golden ale.

“That is what you need! To rebuild yourself with control over your powers and prepare your daughters for the coming crusade! We have more galaxies to bring under heel, and justice to bring to the Lurkers!”

Kaldun nodded, pleased with himself. “Yes! That is a good plan!”

Eiohsa coughed. She pushed herself up from the mattress. “You are right, I suppose.” She murmured silently, after another uncomfortable silence had elapsed. She didn’t look at him - not at first - but the golden light emanating from her eyes intensified almost imperceptibly. “I am shattered. Broken. Torn into a million pieces and scattered to the winds. A million chips and cracks have worn me down over time - and the events of the past days have finally broken me.” She sighed. “I don’t know if there’s a fire hot enough, but I will try to find it. If I do not… who will?”

“I will, of course! I was right that you need to reforge yourself, and if you cannot find a fire hot enough to reforge yourself, I’ll find it for you! The Golden Conqueror does not fail!” Kaldun declared, sloshing more of his mug before draining it with an air of finality.

She looked to Kaldun, forcing a hint of a smile with enormous effort. “I’ll take a mug of that, if you’re still willing.”

“Of course, I brought two mugs for a reason!” Kaldun laughed, filling the other mug and thrusting it into Eiohsa’s hands with gusto.. As he did so Eiohsa’s ale soaked instruments finally had enough, letting out a piercing alarm as the Baalrosi golden ale seemed to have damaged something important.

“Hm! Your machine spirits are angry sister!”

Eiohsa forced a small laugh. “They are, it seems, yes.” She said, choking down the bitter drink. “The Yudsvashnika insisted on their use - though they told me themselves they know not what to make of my insides.” She forced another laugh, slightly more genuine. “One of them made the comment that I must have gotten too ambitious in my early years and rearranged too many things. Cheeky little thing. I like her.” She sighed. “Thank you for visiting. You have certainly given me much to thi-”

The door crashed open as a bevy of unarmored Astartes forced their way into the room, followed by a dozen more in full armor, and armed to the teeth. “My Primarch! Are y-”

The group stopped dead in their tracks, staring at the laughing form of Kaldun. Some seemed paralyzed with indecision, but one of them, young and filled with energy, marched forward. “Out!” She insisted to Kaldun, furious, “Out with you! Get the… get the booze out of here! That’s for the dining hall, not for, oh Nitya will be furious. Out! She needs time to recover and you are not helping at all! Out! Shoo!” She seized Kaldun’s hand and pulled - though even the form of an Astartes stood no chance of budging the Primarch. The others stared, mortified, those without helmets looking between the three figures in uncertainty.

Eiohsa laughed out loud, genuinely now. “I think you’d best do as she says, brother. I fear for your safety if not. I will be fine. Go, and I wish you luck with whatever it is Father has assigned you.”

She smiled as the protesting Astartes pulled her brother from the room, making mental note to commend her bravery, and remind her of some proper manners. The mug of ale had been taken from her hand with an insistent and disapproving frown, but she could not bring herself to resist. The machinery did little, but it comforted them to think they could in some way help while she recovered - and who was she to take that from them?

Silence descended on the room once more, broken only by the hum of the remaining machinery, and she drifted back to sleep. Soon they would leave for Obscurus.

---

[...End Log.]
[...Terminating.]
[Imperial Thought for the Day: Rejoice, oh brave warrior, for thy triumph may only be at hand borne on the back of true camaraderie.]

Through the Rifts: Progeny [Open!] [Co-GM Run]

@Irredeemable@Lady Lascivious@Crusader Lord@TimeMaster@ClocktowerEchos@Darkspleen@Mao Mao@Sigma@Goldeagle1221@Perihelion@DX3214@InsertANameHere@Slamurai@Nate1008@Guardian Angel Haruki@Eldritch Puppy@jorvhik

Let's get this party started, yeah?

@Tortoise

Fire Emblem: Legacy of the Empyrean Throne

Noriko

---

The din of a rowdy Nohrian bar was a strangely comforting background hum to accompany a round of drinking. It, faintly, reminded Noriko of her days as a pirate. The boisterous laughter, the scent of sweat, alcohol, and other more scandalous items mingled together around her in a cocktail that was as pungent as it was familiar. She tipped back a second mug of ale, draining half of it in seconds.

Gods above, she need this break. Days of stress. Paperwork. Speeches. Her eyes peered out through the gloom shrouded by dark circles from prolonged lack of sleep. Ever since the recent death of Captain Astrid her life had gone from a comfortable, predictable routine to a tumultuous madhouse. Wild accusations about her flew like hawks. That she had betrayed the captain. Poisoned her. Killed her outright in battle. Abandoned her to her death. The very thought of the swine who levied such accusations against her filled her with rage. How dare they. How dare they? Perhaps one damn Nohrian worth her salt on the planet - and they thought she’d betray her?

Bitterly, she finished the other half of her drink, slamming it down on the counter and pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

“You alright there, friend? You got real quiet all of a sudden.”

She looked up at the man beside her, forcing a smile. “Yeah, yeah, sorry, Satoshi. Don’t need to dump this on ya, thanks for caring though. Rare treat to meet someone else from home out here.” She grinned, bowing slightly, “Seriously, man, lemme getcha something. My treat. You’ve no idea what a relief just a friendly face is at the moment.”

The man sheepishly smiled, “Well, if you insist who am I to turn down such a generous offer. But let me buy you one in turn! It’s only fair.”

Noriko’s grin widened. “See, I knew I liked you.” She turned from him, “Barkeep! Two more!” She called out in fluent Nohrian, winking at Satoshi as the ale was filled. “But don’t think you’ll be able to win that easily.”

Satoshi laughed. “You remind me of my daughter. She wasn’t much cut out for merchant life. She’s a warrior now, training her own little ones to be like her, too.” He smiled fondly, clearly thinking of something pleasant to him. “Ah, it’s good to remember these things, no? Tell me, what was it like growing up in N-”

“I’m from Hoshido.” She snapped, more forcefully than intended, then softened. “I… mostly grew up in Hoshido. My parents died when I was young, so I was taken in by Daimyo Matsudaira Yujiro. He was a good man. Kind.” She smiled, “Heh, I even became his cook for a while! Still got the hang of it too - even if it’s pretty rare I get to do it these days. Ingredients are hard to find, too.”

She looked up, after a moment. “Say… you’re a merchant, right? Would you happen to have some? Any? I’m sure you know how hard it is to get ingredients from home out here. I’m feeling homesick and it’s been forever since I just had a decent meal - not like what they have around here.” She made a face.

Satoshi beamed. “Of course! Now’s not the time to discuss business of course, but I’ve a great many ingredients! And for the, well, the former personal cook of a daimyo no less? It would be an honor.” He winked at her, “I would scarce believe that there was a single person in a hundred leagues who was more suited to them!”

Her grin grew wider, “Ah you know how to butter your clients up, don’t you? Ever the businessman, ever the businessman.” She chuckled, “Can’t say I blame ya.”

The banter continued, Noriko gradually attracting the attention - and the ire - of the Nohrian tavern patrons within hearing distance. She paid them no heed, continuing to chat without care with the Hoshidan merchant across from her. He, however, had one question that needed answering.

“Alright, it was, truly, a pleasure getting to know you and I look forward to selling you my wares - but I must ask before I take my leave.” Satoshi paused, looking uncertain. “What’s… what’s with the accent, if you are Hoshidan?”

Noriko’s grip tightened on her mug, and for a second she said nothing, instead sighing deeply. “Look, Satoshi, friend - I’d… I’d really rather not share the details, alright? Here’s the gist. My parents were merchants from Hoshido just like you. They came here to trade but didn’t have much luck - but they had my sorry ass along for the ride too. First few years of your life are pretty formative, y’know? The accent stuck.” She looked him up and down, “Watched some mangy Nohrian dogs murder them, later on. Stripped them of fur like animals. Hah! They’re the fucking animals. Tried to get me, too.” She spat. “So that’s why I’ve got this fuckin’ accent. Don’t worry, it’s not contagious. You won’t start speaking like you’re choking on a whole raw squirrel.”

“If you don’t like it here, Hoshidan cunt, then you can jolly well fuck off!” Came a voice from one of the tables surrounding them. Noriko looked over to the man, standing up from his ale, wobbly, and red in the face. “I’m not gonna just… just stand here and let you run your whore mouth about us!”

Noriko laughed. “Stefan, Stefan! There’s no need to talk like that! You’re drunk, friend. Go home. I think you’ve had enough.” She reclined against the table, but her words carried a dangerous edge to them that seemed to sail past the man in question. He swaggered towards her, prodding her in the chest as he slurred obscenities at her amused expression.

She pushed him away gently, raising an eyebrow. “Buddy, hey, buddy. I know it’s hard living in such a shithole, but no need to take it out on me, alright? I don’t want a fight. You don’t want broken bones. Just head home.”

A Nohrian woman stood, now, sauntering over to join her countryman. She clutched a glass bottle in her hand, swaying uncertainly as she pointed accusingly at the kitsune. “You bitsch, thinkin’ ya can jusht… waltz on in here’n start jusht… shayin’ these things? We-” she hiccuped, glaring at Noriko more, “We oughta show you a less- no, no no no… teach ya a leshon! Yeah!”

Noriko struggled to muster a proper response, bursting into laughter at the display before her. Doubled over in her seat, she attracted the attention of the other patrons of the tavern with her laughter.

Satoshi took a nervous glance around the room and, with a final farewell and promise to visit the Silver Hawks’ camp to sell his wares, took his leave. Noriko, for her part, finally recovered from her fit of laughter. Standing up to her full height, she towered over the two of them, her teeth bared in a savage grin. “Is that so?” She said, “You’ll teach me a lesson?”

“Hoshidan whore!” Another voice called, and a third Nohrian stood, joining the previous two to stand in front of her. “Blasted harlot! Scurrilous strumpet! Lowly tramp! Mud-born slut! Ignoble streetwalker! Vulgar virago! You have no right to stand upon these premises and speak such rot! No right!”

She looked at him for a second, nonplussed. “Er, sir.” She said, somewhat awkwardly, “This is a tavern. I think you’re looking for a bard’s college? A place of musical learning? Any university of higher thought?” She grinned, “Or did you just want the only chance to use that tongue of yours to make a girl feel something other than disgust? Either way, I’m delighted to make your acquaintance but I’m afraid I simply must decline your eloquent proposition! You’d be spoiled! You’d never settle for a Nohrian again. You’d pine away your days thinking of that one glorious moment. I couldn’t do that, not even to one of you.” She winked at him playfully, blowing a kiss.

“Like we’d want some mangy dog!” Came another voice, another Nohrian man joining the growing throng of voices that called out insults to the kitsune woman who basked in their anger as though it was a long, soothing bath in a hot spring.

Noriko beamed at him, and without missing a beat retorted. "Sorry pal, I don't see your wife anywhere near here! Maybe try the brothel!" The man stood up immediately, spilling his drink over himself and nearly falling over his own chair. His shouting intensified as he stormed up towards her, yelling obscenities and insults that she barely bothered to process. She looked him up and down with a careful eye, frowning. “Honestly, guy? I’d tell you to piss up your own asshole - but you’d need a cock for that.”

The man recoiled, his face visibly disgusted, “You dishonor your father by speaking like that, you whore!”

Noriko cocked an eyebrow at him, tossing her empty mug at him where it narrowly missed as he ducked out of the way. “At least the last time I made mine smile wasn’t when I was still in his balls!” She laughed, signaling for a replacement.

Another voice joined the chorus - different in tone. Equal parts mocking and amused. A woman stood, calling out to her. “Hey, fox bitch, suck my dick if you’re gonna have your mouth open so much!”

Noriko grinned, calling back to her, “When pigs fly, friend!”

Not missing a beat, the woman retorted, “Well, find me when you grow some wings!”

Noriko blinked, caught off guard for a moment. She laughed, pushing past the growing crowd and fishing out a coin and tossing it towards the woman who caught it without moving from her seated position. “Well played, madam!” She replied, “Well played indeed! I’d buy you a round for that if your friends weren’t giving me grief.” She looked to the angry group of Nohrians, “The rest of you lot could learn a thing or two! Or did she get the only brain cell in Nohr?”

The crack of a barstool splintering against Noriko’s shoulders and back cast the rest of the room in silence. Noriko whirled on her attacker - a woman whose cheeks were, like almost everyone else in the room, flushed red from the effects of alcohol. She watched, uncertainly, as her massive opponent seemed unphased by the impact. Noriko took a single step forward towards her - then drove her fist into the woman’s jaw. An attack devoid of finesse, telegraphed like a warship coming into ram - but against an opponent as drunk as this, it sent the woman sprawling across the floor, crying out in pain.

The first man charged at her now, and Noriko rushed to meet him head on. She slammed her shoulder into his gut, carrying him aloft as she barreled through the crowd, sending one stumbling to the floor and knocking the others out of her way. Gripping the man tightly in front of her, she bodyslammed him into the wall, his arm - held at the wrong angle, cracking with a sickening thud. She pulled him back from it, kicking him towards the crowd where he collapsed beneath them, curling into a ball.

The bartender shouted… something. She couldn’t hear through the rush of blood in her ears. The pounding of adrenaline that settled on her as she felt the rush of excitement fill her. The next one to come was the drunken woman, swinging her bottle towards her head with all her might. Noriko swatted her hand away, the empty bottle shattering against the floor. She slipped inside her guard and drove her elbow into the woman’s nose, kicking her aside only to be tackled by another man from across the room, pulling her to the floor.

Shards of broken glass cut into her skin as she snarled something unintelligible at him. She felt his fists working against her. She felt the impacts - but they were dulled. Every bit of pain filtered out as two more piled onto her. One wielding an improved club from the shattered barstool, another kicking at her face with all his might. A sickening crack from the fist of the man on top of her and searing pain told her her nose was broken. She reacted on instinct, pulling him in closer and biting down on the closest thing she could find. She reached to gouge for his eyes, claws raking bloody gashes on his face. Still the blows kept coming. She couldn’t stay here. Not for long. Again, she lashed out, punching with all the might she could muster at his throat.

With an explosive burst of strength she surged up from the floor, grabbing one of her assailants as the other man gasped for breath. She clawed at his eyes, too. Kneed his groin. Drove her fists into his gut and his face with an increasingly sickening wet, fleshy sounds. Her hands came away red, and now another man was on her back, pounding away at her head, her neck, her shoulders.

She threw herself backwards, landing with the full mass of her body and his own with his flesh taking the brunt. Throwing her head backwards, she was rewarded with a muffled scream of pain. The grip released, and she rolled away just as another body landed where she had been. The man who’d been kicking her on the floor hurriedly scrambled to his feet, and, as another woman homed in on the conflict, a sturdier barstool in hand, she made her decision. Rushing forward she effortlessly parried his clumsy swing, grabbing his neck in one hand and hefting him aloft, grunting from the exertion. Carrying along her improvised weapon, she slammed the man’s body into the onrushing woman. A muffled scream rose up from one of them - Noriko was unsure which - accompanied by another crack of breaking bone. Another enemy approached, and, still holding on to the man, she swung him around in turn, his skull connecting with that of the first drunken woman with a stomach churning crunch.

The faint hiss of a dagger being tugged free from its leather sheath suddenly loomed loud in her ears. Every nerve screamed at her to move. To react. She whirled around to face the new threat, but was too late. Something hit her back. She couldn’t tell what. It hurt, a bit, but she felt barely anything now. She could barely feel the blood and sweat that rolled off her body. The cuts, bruises, and more. As she turned she saw the face of a young man wide with terror as he lost grip of the dagger he had sunk into her back. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized that, had she turned a split second later the blade would’ve found her spine. As hot blood began to ooze from around the weapon lodged in her back, she seized him by the throat, her clawed hands digging into his skin and drawing blood. Noriko brought him closer to her, snarling, her teeth a hair from his face, “I hope you enjoyed it you little shit, because it's the deepest you'll ever be in a woman."

Roaring in pain and anger, she tightened her grip on his throat and heaved him into the air above her head. With all her might, screaming in pain an fury, she slammed him down headfirst into the edge of the bar. And again. And again. Blood splashed on the wood with each successive impact. She changed her grip now, claws digging into the back of his head as she smashed his face into the surface with one final grunt of exertion. Chest heaving, she relinquished her grip on him, and he collapsed to the floor in a broken heap, blood oozing from a broken nose and ruptured skin.

Another man lept atop her, his weight pushing the dagger further into her body as he beat a piece of heavy hardwood about her head and shoulders. She hissed from the pain, clawing for him and seizing one of his arms as he tried to choke her. She bit down, hard, as hard as she possibly could. The man screamed, and blood filled her mouth now. With her other hand she grabbed the arm, pulling as hard as she possibly could. Reeling from the pain and unprepared for it, he was pulled off her back and thrown bodily to the floor. Running forwards, she delivered a savage kick to his jaw, following up with one to the gut, before looking around for more assailants.

The room was filled with bodies rolling around on the floor or lying still. Some groaned. Others swore aloud. More than the Nohrians Noriko had fought lay on the floor, and a few others reigned triumphant over their own personal one on one brawls. The same woman Noriko had tossed a gold to earlier tossed her a lazy salute, another woman curled into a ball by her table as she calmly sipped at her ale, showing no signs of having taken part in the fight except her now considerably mussed hair.

The door to the tavern crashed open, shaking the floor beneath its occupants as a dozen guards poured through. The din of armor and weapons ensured the attention of everybody in the room, and Noriko, hesitantly, waved at them, an uneasy smile on her face.

“Evening, chums!” she called out in the local language, “They’re breathing! We got a little heated is all. They had to take a nap.”

One of the guards did a double take at the tall woman that stood in the center of the chaos, bleeding from a hundred cuts, a knife visibly protruding from her back, a black eye, broken nose, myriad bruises marring her features, and more. Clearing her throat, she seemed unsure of who to address first, but kept her sword raised pre-emptively.

Noriko, slowly, raised her arms over her head, “Hey, hey, no need to worry! I’ll just… uh. A fine? Right? That’s standard protocol? Pay for my part of the damages?” She gestured to her person, “I didn’t draw a knife on anyone, swear on my life. This thing’s from that fuck over there.” she gestured to the unconscious man lying where she had left him. From across the room, a few others nodded or voiced their assent to her story, confirming that she had not drawn a weapon, or started the brawl.

The guard cleared her throat. “Ahem. Yes. Just… pay your fine and… don’t let me catch you here again.” she said uncertainly, “At least, not without someone a… just pay the fine and go before I change my mind!

Noriko nodded, slowly, gently, making her way towards the guards while reaching into her pockets. She counted out enough gold pieces to, by her estimate, cover the damage - and an extra premium for keeping the guards happy. The lead guard glared at her and jerked her head toward the door.

Noriko half walked, half stumbled towards the door and out it, pausing for one final second to yell into the bar. “And I’m keeping the dagger! Once I get it out! Cunt!”

With that, she staggered off into the city to search for her Sergeant-At-Arms. And a healer.

~🙘🙚~

Stumbling through the streets, Noriko’s eyes alighted on a familiar sight, and her face turned from a pained grimace to a bright eyed smile as she jogged over to him, ignoring the pain from the dagger still protruding from her back. “Toda! Glad to see you!” She called, pulling up beside him. She looked Bhaskara up and down, “This one of ours I take it, yeah? Wait, wait. Bhaskara, right? New guy. Signaler.”

Toda glared at her with a look that expressed a myriad of sentiments at once. Noriko was, almost, impressed by the expressiveness of his features despite his visible tiredness. A mixture of ’What the actual fuck?’ and ’Holy fucking shit’ abd ’Why are you coming to me like this at this ungodly hour?’. Noriko coughed awkwardly. Toda watched her for a second more before he spoke. "Captain...?" He spent a few more seconds, pondering what to say, looking for a way to properly express his opinions of the sight before his eyes. "It's-...It's my day off...it's our day off. Does it really take that much effort not to leave me with the thought that you might've started a fight?"

"Well, technically," she began, wiping a mixture of blood and sweat from her brow. "They were the ones who started it. 'Sides, I've spent... far too fucking long dealing with the aftermath of, y'know... it's almost refreshing to be surrounded by a bunch of fools who literally stabbed me in the back, instead of a bunch of fools who think I did it metaphorically to Astrid."

After a moment, she sheepishly added, "Any of our healers around here? Don't want one of... them to do it."

"Well there was Sanji," Toda began with a look to Bhaskara, then back to the direction he'd seen the apothecary go, "he just passed us."

For the time being, he brushed off her comment of the populace. It wasn't that he himself had a care about them, nor was it that he held any sense of attachment to the nation as a whole, but the locale of their conversation was all but inconvenient. Sure, she was a capable warrior, and a damn good fighter, judging by the spoils of her won brawl, but she was also their Captain - at times like those, there was a slight amount of inner-regret toward accepting the position of Sergeant-At-Arms. Then again, when hadn't a second-in-command position come with such baggage. Of course, the two were somewhat polar opposites in their way of command, but his opposite mindset was what mattered, he assumed.

"Please, stop trying to make it seem like you want to end up like Astrid. The least you could do is not mentally prepare me for taking over the Silver Hawks." It was a slight scoff, and it would've being a bit playful had he not experienced the most unpleasant of comforts that morning.

Noriko’s smile fell. “Yeah, yeah I suppose so. I just, tch. Shit, man, I needed a break. I’m not good at intrigue. I’m barely a leader. I’m good at breaking stuff and figuring out battle plans to help other people break stuff. Navigating this morass? I oughta glue you to my back for the duration, let you do the talking.” She shook her head. “Ah we’ll find Sanji when we find him. If it was serious I’d not be walking right now.”

Through the Rifts: Progeny

Nice.

Fire Emblem: Legacy of the Empyrean Throne

Hot Angry Racist Kitsune Kanabo Girl

---

___________________________________ Noriko Aburaage, 63 ________________________________________________________________________________________ Nohrian to Hoshidan parents, nationalized Hoshidan ___________________________________

D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E Noriko stands at an impressive height of nearly 195cm, not including her ears, bedecked in colorful and swashbuckling clothing when not in combat, and powerfully muscled from a life of physical exertion - she cuts an imposing figure that few can easily forget. Noriko tends to walk with a confident swagger and usually sports an easygoing smirk. Her skin is covered in numerous scars and tattoos from an adventurous life that shows no signs of slowing. Despite her age compared to the human members of the party she shows no signs of aging, and were it not for the confidence in her step and experience in her movements it might be easy to mistake her for one of the company’s younger members. In battle she wears well crafted heavy armor, and carries her fearsome kanabo as a primary weapon, with a katana and Nohrian dagger as secondary backup weapons. She cuts a striking image on the battlefield - a towering behemoth swinging the massive four kilogram weapon with the strength of ten men, crushing armor and bone with equal ease. ▼ E X T R A I N F O R M A T I O N ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Y.O.B - 1432 ► Height - 6’5" / 195cm ► Weight - 240 lbs / 109kg ► Hair Colour - Black ► Eye Colour - Heterochromia Brown/Amber ► Class - Master of Arms ► Company Role - Captain ► Previous Occupation - Noble’s retainer, pirate, chef, bartender, bodyguard, bouncer, numerous odd jobs

---_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

Noriko, in her day to day life, has a happy-go-lucky, flirtatious attitude that belies the depths of experience and callousness with which she regards the lives of most others. Her hedonistic tendencies from her prior years as a pirate have only slightly abated, and she is fond of drink and of other means of entertainment. In her early life she was nearly killed for her fur numerous times, and as such has come to regard most humans as short lived, shortsighted brutes whose lives are ultimately disposable. That her different choices of profession primarily bring her into close contact with violent, aggressive people at an increased likelihood of such behavior has thus far not occurred to her. She is a very vocal and ardent supporter of Hoshido in the conflict and harbors a deep seated hatred of Nohr and many of its peoples, though refuses to elaborate as to why. She is, however, pragmatic above all and will not bat an eye at working with Nohrians should it further her own interests.

---_{B I O G R A P H Y}

Noriko’s Life

Noriko was born to loving parents. Hoshidan merchants who had traveled to Nohr to attempt to sell their wares, but didn’t find much success

Following numerous hardships the family tried to leave Nohr and return home, but were accosted by Nohrian hunters and killed for their fur. Noriko escaped the attack and managed to flee to her parents homeland of Hoshido.

There, she found sympathetic people from a minor noble’s estate who brought her back and fed and housed her.

She was still young and in no shape to do much for a time and was allowed to stay purely on compassionate grounds after the noble and his family heard of what had happened.

Noriko learned from the noble’s personal cook and slowly began to take over his job, becoming the full time cook at age 16 when he took ill and died. She performed quite admirably in the role - as well as developing a particular fondness for certain foods such as aburaage.

She kept growing, and people came to admire her strong physique and tall build, unusual for kitsune. One of noble’s retainers persuaded her to train martially and she accepted after some cajoling, gradually switching over from cook to a formidable warrior with a natural knack for violence

Despite all this, however, she maintained a fiercely burning hatred of Nohr. This came to a head when a Nohrian merchant came into town and, on seeing her, commented to one of his aides that her fur was of exquisite quality and would fetch an excellent price here or at home. On hearing this, she attacked the man and injured him severely due to her size.

The nobleman whom she served, while understanding, could not allow her to remain in his employ after such a display. She was ordered to leave his lands within the week and is gifted a small amount of money, her equipment, food, and some spare clothes to help start a new life elsewhere.

From there she drifted into a port town after some months, settling in with the local riffraff and making a name for herself as a rabble rouser prone to scuffles and fights. However, she eventually landed stable employ in a tavern for a short time, working both behind its counter and as security. She then became a bodyguard serving a wealthy merchant in the city until the man’s tragic death by poisoning. Though the family did not blame her she had a hard time finding similar work again.

After this, she worked numerous odd jobs for the next few years, amassing a host of unusual skills and stories - but eventually grew restless and itched for something new. She boarded a ship abroad looking to start over once more. The ship came under attack by pirates whilst at sea, and Noriko eagerly joined its defense. She successfully killed several, but was unaccustomed to shipboard combat and eventually surrounded and, faced with an offer of joining them or dying, joined the pirate crew for the next ten years, preying primarily on Nohrian shipping.

Her pirating career came to an end with a battle against a Nohrian crew, both ships sinking out at sea. Noriko, fueled by little more than sheer refusal to die, swam to shore clinging to flotsam from the wreckage. With nothing more than the clothes on her back and a pendant given to her in childhood to her name after the loss of everything she had worked on for ten years, she washed up on Osha’s shores half dead. With the last reserves of her strength, she dragged herself further up the shore and out of reach of the high tide before collapsing. When next she awoke, she had been taken into a holding cell as a precaution.

It was whilst in this cell that she spoke with Toda Ujiteru, who suggested to the castaway that she take up mercenary work when freed. Noriko promptly did so at his suggestion. She found her way to the company of the Silver Hawks and joined their ranks. Over the following years, she worked her way up through the ranks through a combination of competence, combat experience, and a knack for staying alive no matter how poorly a battle seemed to go or how badly she was injured. It was after a particularly grueling battle that she became the Sergeant-At-Arms of the company, a position she held for another eight years and in which she served with distinction - though her hatred of Nohr worried many. Not long after her promotion, the very same Toda Ujiteru joined with the company.

It was in another hard fought battle that the previous Captain, a Nohrian minor noblewoman named Astrid, died in combat. Though aware of Noriko’s animosity towards Nohrians, the Captain, like Noriko, was ultimately a pragmatist above all else and trusted the Hoshidan kitsune not to stab her in the back. Noriko, in turn, afforded her respect unheard of for the other Nohrian members of the company. Appointing Toda Ujiteru as her replacement, Noriko took on the role of Captain in the aftermath of her death, suspicion has been rampant that Noriko played some role in her demise. She pointedly ignores such accusations.

---_{S K I L L S}
A jack of all trades and a master of combat, Noriko's time as a cook, a bodyguard, a noble’s retainer, a bartender, a pirate, and numerous other odd jobs has granted her extensive and valuable experience in numerous fields. Moreso than anything, she is a master combatant capable of using a wide variety of weapons and armor - though favoring a large kanabo that fits her large and well muscled frame. Noriko is capable of making hard decisions in a split second, navigating with little more than the position of the sun and stars, improvisation in nearly any circumstance, logistics, cooking surprisingly appetizing meals with limited resources, climbing and maneuvering in difficult terrain, drinking nearly anyone under the table, formulating strategy and tactics on the fly, inspiring soldiers to fight on even in the bleakest of circumstances, ruthlessly sacrificing the lives of those under her command if the situation calls for it, and more. All of the skills acquired over her adventurous life lend themselves surprisingly well to captaining a mercenary company.

---_{R E L A T I O N S}

Respects Toda. Fuck the rest of y’all except maybe Alba.

---_{T R I V I A}

►Likes aburaage.
►Has a Nohrian accent and speaks the language fluently.
►Very fluffy.
►Very strong.
►Ticklish.

---

-A Template by Load Wraith