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Current You feeling ok, slime? What's up?
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Shaved Gendo Ikari isn't real, he can't hurt you.
5 days ago
*swigs the open Gatorade in the fridge* Oh, someone spiked this.
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Somebody, design a neuralink that will write my posts for me as I vibe on them.
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Sometimes your muse comes back, calls you an idiot, and continues where it left off.
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It's me, that dood, Citrus Arms. I'm 33, I sometimes work on a book a little bit, and I play a lot of games. I like me some MechWarrior or the X-Frontier series, but I also adore some good magic-fantasy. I grew up with Final Fantasy VI's magitech world, and worlds like Chrono Trigger, Zelda, and Star Fox. Lots of Nintendo, but some other stuff, too.

I like sci-fi and fantasy and space and combinations thereof, mostly.

Discord: CitrusArms

Most Recent Posts



Stratya Durmand

Time:
24th, Morning
Location: After that hound, into the woods!
Interactions:
Mentions:


The response from the guard was swift, two of them securing the location for her and also bringing her one of the bloodhounds. “Aye, there ‘e is. Thank ye.” The camera wouldn't be here yet, it needed preparation. Stratya nodded to the guard and knelt, showing the dog the scent. The poor thing, having to smell such an odor. The dog roved around after picking up the scent in question. The knight was happy to get away from the center of the stench, though she wondered how it was for the hound. It was following that foul odor, so he could still smell it, right? Echk. Interrupting her wandering thoughts, the hound caught the trail and started to lead her away.

The hound led her from the castle grounds and the inner wall, no surprise there. From there, though, she had no idea what to anticipate. They turned right, to the West, through the markets. As they ran, Stratya wrapped the leash around her hand a few times more to secure it, taking note of the path they followed. Along the outer wall, straight west. Along Flora Road, and not through any side pages or less prominent streets. They turned north at the far end of the city, past the enforcement centers. How very bold. They weren't shy to get caught, apparently. Personally, she would have gone down Victoria Ave. Much more aside than the main road. Had they been in a carriage, and thus behind a wall of privacy? They must have gotten into a carriage at the train station.

They passed the train station, and continued on into the woods. It must have been done in the night, or someone would have noticed, surely? To cut through town with such a thing without anyone noticing would be a feat. There had to have been someone that saw something, but how was she to divine whom?

At any rate, the hound led her from the town proper into the woods. She was armed, of course. She drew the pup closer in on his leash, growing cautious. She didn't much like following the trail of a murder into the woods, but if she kept her wits, she'd be able to handle herself just fine.
Stella Lumite





Stella woke in a sweat. She’d let Kaebe cuddle up overnight, and he sprang up after she jolted underneath him. It took her a moment to collect herself, placing herself in the pokemon center in Florasong, “o-oh,” and identifying the big ass lizard staring at her as her ancient dinosaur pokemon, “Kaebe. Sorry, sweetheart. I, uh..” she didn’t know how to even begin explaining besides, “weird dream. Let’s, eh… breakfast, yeah.
What was that dream? A ticking clock. Time? Louder and louder.. what, was she supposed to interpret that as ‘stop dawdling’? Dawdling? Dawdling on what?! Hmnn. She got herself something to eat from the Center’s continental breakfast, and some kibble for her ‘mon.
What do… Gastly… eat…?” She stared at Spoop’s pokeball as the others ate and she had her own breakfast. An engli- I mean, uh, kanto muffin and some jam, hash browns, a bit of scrambled eggs. Juice. She opened up her pokedex to Gastly. “Mostly gas.. poison gas.. remainder believed to be souls? So, what, you eat souls? Ooh, no, what have I done? I’ll have to ask the nurse what to do to feed you. Do I have to take you hunting..?” She would ask the nurse on the way out.
That old man had been insistent she be paid, but he never did pay her. After she left the Center, she would approach the mansion once more, going up to the door and giving it a knock, just as she had before. She didn’t really expect it to open again. At least, not by the old man. Maybe renovators had come by now? Did the garden look any different..?
Barring an answer at the door, “hey, Spoops,” she let the ghost-type out, “are you able to sense the living, or souls? Do you… sense anything?


Stratya Durmand

Time:
24th, Morning
Location: The Royal Stables → After that hound!
Interactions:
Mentions:


Blasted rain. That wasn’t going to make things any easier. Any blood she could have hoped to find would be washed away, unless this was done inside. She had the guard bring a hound as she investigated the head. She unsheathed a dagger from her hip and used that to probe the scene, while she considered things.

The body wasn’t there, and there didn’t seem to be bloodstains about. This must have been done elsewhere. The head and sword were brought here to send a message. What message? She found herself with a lack of clear motive, again. Had the boy done something? Or was someone on a power trip? Perhaps both. She was getting an ominous feeling. Maybe she should have just stayed in bed this morning.

A guard arrived in short order, appropriate for the castle grounds, and she explained to him, briefly. She needed this area, “quarant- eeh… cord’n’d off, nae one touches it; wha’ever camera is mos’ readily available to captahre it, then we can disman’le the scene. We cannae leave this stench so close to the castle, but we must preserve as much information as we cahn. I'll wan’ a camera to follow the dog, as well, fahr when we fin’ th’body. Go.

It left her with time to think. She could follow the scent from the sword, but that could just be a manipulated hand, someone who did the dirty work, and there was no guarantee that that scent would be reliable. The sword may have been handled much over time, and have many scents mixed in. The head, however, would have one overbearing scent, separate from the others, impossible to ignore. That was it, then. The scent from the head.

Once handed a hound, she greeted the beast and directed its attention to what she needed. This scent, here. Despite the rain and these conditions, pup, I need you to follow this. would the hound be able to find and follow the scent, despite the rain?


Stratya Durmand

Time:
24th, Morning
Location: The Barracks and Castle Grounds
Interactions:
Mentions:


Well, the previous night had been an interesting peek into higher society. There had been a surprising number of participants for a drinking game. If she thought about it, the nobles probably put a lot of effort into keeping such tendencies behind closed doors. According to the report on Stratya's desk, the doors at the masquerade were not, perhaps, as closed as they were supposed to be. Ah, but she knew that already. If she weren't knighted, there was no way she'd have gotten in. Though she had a way of endearing herself with the guards and lower class with her friendly personality, she knew better than to think she could get in to such an event with such charm alone.

However he got in, she doubted the thief from that night had such a rapport with the guards. Perhaps someone had gotten them in. The young lady he was with? Stratya hadn’t gotten much of a look at her at all. Ah well. She'd had a bit of fun, in the end, and slipped off to a tavern after all the nobles retired. There, she had a single beer more, a nice meal, and then a pint of water before she left the tavern and went to the barracks and to bed.

Mm. She may have taught the tavern a new drinking game over her beer and following pint of water, if she thought about it.

All that drinking meant she was a bit late to rise. The drinking, which.. she.. remembered. Good. Her head had felt better, but she had more water and a good breakfast to help her noggin.
She found a sealed envelope placed on her desk, along with other notices. She’d learned reading and writing quite quickly, since coming from her village, though she did keep a dictionary in her desk, as well. Words like “confidential” didn’t tend to occur much in a small place like her home village. She’d needed the reference book less and less, as things go, and these days she scarcely had to use it at all. A few folks back in her village could read a little bit, but knighthood had driven her to greater proficiency. It meant she could read letters like all these confidential intelligence reports she’d received this morning. There were quite a lot of them, and one was in regards to the party she attended last night. While she already knew about that, much of the rest of the information she recieved was new to her. An immediate concern was the stable boy, Darryn. Depending on the nature of his disappearance, it might be related to some of these other alerts.
She’d wasted enough of the day sleeping, it was time to get about her business.

Stratya took to the streets in a mixture of medium and light armor, with just a few pieces of heraldry to go with it. They had guests who would not recognize the knights of the kingdom the way a local would, so it was best to be recognizable.
Speaking of being recognized, she wasn’t a full building length from the barracks before she started hearing about the stench coming from the stables. From the descriptions and the prevalence of complaints, it wasn’t your normal stench. She had a hard time thinking it was merely someone slacking on their cleaning duties. As she made the short trip to the royal stables, she began to pick up on the odor. She started to pick up wafts of it from far away, and got the feeling in her gut that told her it was the stench in question. It was bad, some kind of rotting meat, she had to guess.
She followed her nose and the complaints past the moat and the inner defensive walls, giving a short nod to the guards she passed on the way. The stables, toward the rear of the castle. “Ooh, it's rancid.” The knight grimaced as she approached the Royal stables, the odor stronger than ever. “Urg, it's ‘ere, alrigh’..
Her nose told her it was the stable itself, but she was having a hard time following the scent due to how awful it was, though she noticed the odor was not much worse inside the stables, maybe even better (though it was hard to tell). It was probably outside, then. She produced a handkerchief from within her armor and held it over her nose, resigning to using her wits and eyes from here. It didn't take her long, the first thing she did was wander around behind the building and,
Aww, Gods be good..” she found the stable boy. Rather, she found something very important of his. She could barely recognize him, the way his jaw had been mangled. Shattered and beaten.. the sword she could only assume was used to sever the poor stable boy’s head from his shoulders was there, but she had to wonder if that was what had killed him. He might have been beaten to death. It was hard to recognize him, with the savaging apparent on his face and jaw. She sighed heavily (groaned, really), drew a deep breath, and “guard!” She needed to keep anyone from coming back here and messing with this scene. And probably let someone else know about this. They'll need a new stable boy..
While she awaited the response, she would begin examining the scene. Had blood been spilled on the ground here? If it were her, she'd try to wash it away. Did it look like much water had been poured here? She needed to determine if Darryn had been killed here or not. Had it been last night, during the two large events? It would have been an excellent time, with most noteworthy persons out of the castle. What bothered her most, though, was.. why?


Stratya Durmand

Time:
23rd, Evening
Location: The Masquerade
Interactions: Zarai @Rodiak, Drake @Lava Alckon
Mentions:
Mask & Masquerade
(Note: pants)


A fellow joined them as they went through their game. The strength of the drink was starting to hit her, but that was to say nothing of her latest companion taking perhaps very heavy swigs right from the bottle. That was no way to play a drinking game, pacing was very important. Go too hard and the night ends early.

Their new participant was, ah, impressive. He'd apparently managed to burn “a piece of bread?” She looked at the man, “i's really some’tin, t’way burnt food fills a place. Wha’d y’do, walk away? Easies’ way t’ burn a t’ing, ah tell y’wha’. The firs’ time ye do i’, ye’ll be thinkin’ i's ready, the firs’ scent y’catch is the smell o’ it bein’ done. As ye go to i’, though, ye get the smell of burnin’, and ye know i's too late. Aw, shite, I forgo’ abou’ tha’.” Sip.

The fellow brought his own question to the table, and Stratya had to consider it. “‘til I was ill? N… naaay.” She had to think about that one. She could remember being hung over a few times, but never ill. Before anything else could happen, the devilish master of ceremonies for this game gave them a devilish question. The knight questioned, staring at the last of her glass, “does it really count if it was only just now..?” but sighed in easy defeat, finishing her glass. “Got me, ye ‘ave. My glass -” her tone shifted from one of theatrical defeat to surprise, “and the bo’le! - are empty! - my dear,” she slipped her arm around the woman's waist, steadying her and slipping the empty bottle from her hand, ”le’s ge’ y’some, ah,” the nearby table was full of booze, she caught the attention of a nearby servant, “wa’er and brea’ afore we carry on, ey? Y'll be grateful in the morning, I don' min’ sayin’. An' 'en we'll carry on with a foine ale or wine, yea? Somet’in’ a bi’ less of a punch t’ yer gut, maybe more flavorful, aye.” She gestured gratitude as the servant departed, and wondered if maybe they should try something else? Maybe something with a slower pace. A song, perhaps. Ah, but that would be so disruptive. And a ballroom was no place for physical drinking games. No throwing stones into buckets of water on the nice, expensive floor.

Anyone know another game? Anythin’ I’ve go’ is more suited to, er, another environmen’. Unless we can use the courtyard..?” Well, she never imagined this was how she would break the ice with the upper class.


Stratya Durmand

Time:
23rd, Evening
Location: The Masquerade
Interactions: Zarai @Rodiak
Mentions:
Mask & Masquerade
(Note: pants)


The young lady that had been sent to entertain her was charming, but there was something hollow to her. The half of her that was dedicated to following her current order of “attend a party” quickly subdued that thought, while the charming young country girl stepped forward to enjoy the event and lavish in the attention. It was such a novel thing, to have had someone sent to occupy her. Even if the circumstances were somewhat suspicious, she’d gotten her fife back, so her personal interest in that matter was at an end.

Her latest accompaniment explained the game she'd had in mind and they were off. Never Have I Ever? Was that a common game in the capital? She was more used to drinking rhymes and more physical games. Luckily for her, the first round was easy to suss out the rules. As most of the men drank, but fewer women, she supposed that she would be drinking for having swung a sword.

Sparring? Aye, she sparred pretty regularly with some of the other knights. She usually did it to teach those she thought she could help improve, so after the next round (which she also drank for kissing), she'd had a thought ready.

O~oh, shall I? Alrigh’y,” Stratya smiled coyly under the playful gaze. “Never ‘ave I evur,” she paused to consider it, continuing thoughtfully, “lost a spar.. Oooh, ack, ney, ‘at's a lie. Haaa haha.” She'd neglected to count all the spars she'd lost to her father, growing up, which.. technically count. She took a sip for her lie. She'd probably lost other times, too, honestly. She distinctly remembered never losing to anyone else in her village, at least. “Even if i’ was m’trainin’ as a lass, I still lost. Le’s see, never ‘ave I evur..

A glass shattered somewhere, but it wasn't in the immediate area. Never had it been so hard to ignore her usual inquisitive duties. Her attention snapped to its direction, but she slowly pulled herself away from her professional curiosity to come back to the party at hand. The thought in her mind completed as she did, “broken a glahss..” she'd said it rather absentmindedly, before her attention returned in full. “Ah, er, never ‘ave evur I burned anythin’ to a crisp, cookin’ it.” Actually, that seemed somewhat likely. How many people here actually cooked, themselves?


Stratya Durmand

Time:
23rd, Evening
Location: The Masquerade
Interactions: Zarai @Rodiak
Mentions: Peter @JJ Doe
Mask & Masquerade
(Note: pants)


Oh hoh? Iszza’ wha’ you think?” They were both dancing around the real issue, though perhaps she’d come on a little strong. Not that she was necessarily looking to apprehend anyone. After her fife, she’d started this pursuit by reflex, but now she was in the middle of it and she just had to try and relax and leave it to the guards and anyone else missing their things. Right. Relaxing.

Oof, he hit her with the “Your Ladyship!” She often forgot her position was status as well as duty whenever she wasn’t using her status for her duty. She’s supposed to be a classy lady, or.. something. She certainly wasn’t lazy, though. “‘ard work? Hah. I think those words wou’ go espec’lly well on some ho’made bread, don’t you think?” She’d take an excuse to make bread any day.

Ooye, who said anything about trying to find a date?” Before she could say anything more against her trying to steal his date, the young man got away under pretense of finding her a pretty lady. He was probably suspicious of her, anyway. At any rate, to his credit, he’d made good on his word. Yet another masked face to associate with the suspicious attendant approached her.

Ooh, wha’ charmin’ comp’ny! Well come, lovely,” Stratya offered a pleased smile in response and her arm, placing her free hand on the arms that reached to hook with hers. Right, relax. “Aye, I’m keen on a game or two. S’ppose aye’ll ‘ang on ta this ‘til we’ve begun, then?” The captain accepted the offered drink in her freer hand, resisting the temptation to take an opening sip before the game had begun.

When the servant returned, the bottle, in particular, had caught her eye. It looked like water, but she got the distinct feeling that it definitely was not. With both her arms free while Zarai handed out the drinks to competitors, she wafted herself some of the vapors and gave a little cough, “ooh, the strong stuff, aye?” She hadn’t had anything quite so strong, before. She definitely heard of strong stuff like this, she’d heard talk in her village of strong liquors produced in secret in the thickets and forests. One of the popular names was moonshine, or forestbrew, but she’d never had the chance to try it. Was this something like that..?

When everyone that wanted one had their glass, Stratya turned to Zarai, glass carefully held in her right hand. “Righ’, then. You’ve go’ a game for us, ‘ave you?
Stella Lumite





Scamp came back to Stella and sneezed, which prompted her to pick up the critter and hug and pet him. “Oooh. Something on his breath, baby?” She gave him a kiss on his head before returning him to his ball. “Good job, sweetheart.” She turned her eyes to the keeper, “let’s go, then.

~~~

Crispy?” Stella did her best to seem unaware, surprised, “no idea. That one’s paralyzed?” She approached the second robber and inspected him, “seems like something Licked him. A Ghastly or Haunter, you think? Perhaps the local ghost pokemon took poorly to the disturbance. Dunno what kind of electric types you’ve got around here that did that one, though. Let’s just be thankful they were stopped.
She caught the rope with a bit of surprise before setting about tying up the skinny bloke. First, tie his hands together behind his back, then do the arms. Then, aah, the knees. That should do. She looked at the offered payment for a moment before pocketing it, “Oh, just doing what any decent trainer should do, right? Reporting thieves and supporting in their capture.” She had no intention of tormenting the grave keeper, but the payment was nice. That reminded her, the old man’s ghost had promised her payment. He’d seemed very determined to compensate her, at that. She’d been paid for assisting in the robbers’ capture, but that was payment for a different matter. She managed to talk a Ghastly onto her team, maybe that was supposed to be it? Somehow, that felt too disconnected to really seem like her payment. If he couldn’t pay her properly, would he have new business keeping him here?
She didn’t want to have any relation to the haunting of a ghost-ghost. She’d go back to town and check the mansion’s porch, at least, before going to the Pokemon Center to rest for the night. After she left the graveyard, as she walked, she’d let her Ghastly have some night air with her.
Stella Lumite





It was good that both of the burglars were alive. They may have been incredibly rude to the dead, and robbers besides, but that only earned them a little bit of roughing up. No one to apologize to or make amends with, she supposed, but she’d let the watchman take it from here.
The very heavily sleeping watchman was snoring quite soundly. Stella looked at the man thoughtfully. Was there not a nightshift? Possibly.. Whatever the case, this guy had some things to attend to. She let out her Yamper, “Scamp, lick his face to wake him up. Hope he likes dogs..
Sorry to wake you, Mr. Watchman, but there were some burglars at the Osman gravesite. Ellanore Osman. They might still be there, but I didn’t have any rope to tie them up or anything.


Stratya Durmand

Time:
23rd, Evening
Location: The Masquerade
Interactions: Peter @JJ Doe
Mentions:
Mask & Masquerade
(Note: pants)


Mmm.” The jig-dancer's thoughtful response gave the captain pause. She took a slow breath, nodding softly, “aye. Aye, tha's.. cer’ainly possible. Unfortunate fellow, if tha's the case.

The fellow was either innocent or very good with a poker face. The nagging wonder of where his companion had gone made her inquisitive, but direct interrogations weren't really her thing. As a party-goer, however, she knew how to get to know this fellow better. “C’mon then, new friend, le's go drinkin’,” she slung a deceptively strong arm around Peter's shoulders and drug the man along with her to meet the drinking party-goers. “If yuh frien’ turns back up, she c’n join us. Naturally. Ack, nay, I invite her. Aye, aye.

That yer mate what just left, path as crooked as the arrow ‘e'd make? ‘ave ye all been keepin’ up, or did ‘e star’ snaggin’ drinks a‘fore you cou’ reach ‘em?” Stratya scooped up a pair of glasses in her left hand, one between her index and middle finger, the other in her pinky and ring finger. Held gently by the stems, she extended the hand to Peter. She curled her index and middle finger to draw the first glass closer to herself and into her hand, so Peter would have an easy time grabbing the one offered.

‘e’d ‘ave to ‘ave pretty fast ‘ands, and a faster gullet, there's no shor’age of flutes.” She turned her upper body a bit to check her hip, “still got mine? Good.” Well, not a flute, technically, but close enough. Not worth splitting hairs over.
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