✾ Steel Rose ✾
Steel Rose hadn't known freedom like this in a long time. Loose green and pink fabric flapped as she sped past stalls and crowds, probably looking quite a sight with her mask, as well as the motorised rollerskates propelling her along. Not that she cared. Children's laughter, a myriad of food scents, lively street music - this was her kind of atmosphere.
An atmosphere, admittedly, that lost some of its luster when experienced alone.
She bit the inside of her lip. This wasn't the same as the times she'd snuck out to the marketplace with Jay, the two of them selling woodcrafts or eating too many snacks, laughing and joking. He'd been so different then, so utterly unlike the husk he was now. Gritting her teeth, Rose accelerated with a swipe of her foot. She'd changed too, her reason for being here. She wasn't going to stand by and let others end up like that. She had to be someone else, someone stronger, better...
"Waugh!" The marketplace blurred as her speed picked up to dizzying levels. "Watch out!" She skittered and swayed like a drunken dancer as crowds scattered, a flute player abruptly pausing his song as he hurried aside. Tilting her feet, Rose tried to brake, only to somehow activate reverse mode. Letting slip an expletive she hoped no children heard, she circled backwards one one foot once, twice, before changing course and zooming forward - right into a pastry stall.
The table flipped over with a thud, as did Rose. "Uuugh..." Shouts snapped her from her dazed state. She propped herself up, aches flaring, albeit from nothing worse than bruises due to the squished cakes that cushioned her. Squished cakes... Uh-oh. With a sinking sensation, she stared up at the fuming vendor.
"What in the name of the gods do you think you're doing?" He thrust out a hand, gesturing at the ruined stall. "I don't care who you're with, miss. Zephyr or not, you'd better pay up!"
Rose flinched, giving a sheepish smile behind her mask. "Eheheh, sorry about that..." Her eyes darted around at the mess as she unstrapped the wheeled attachments from her shoes, putting them in a large satchel and standing up. "Here, I'll help. These ones are still good, more or less." She righted the table, re-stocking it with the less crumpled boxes, and handing over payment for the pastries she couldn't salvage. Not that she had many savings of her own, but it would cover the cost. "Hope the rest of your day goes better!"
She was glad nobody could see her crimson face as she rushed to the spot under the stairs. "Wow, those things need some serious adjustments to the controls," she muttered, brushing away sugared crumbs and almond flakes dotting her tunic top. In her mind, she could almost hear her father yelling. First things first, though, she had to meet the other recruits, first impressions nonwithstanding.
Archer, thankfully, was polite enough not to mention her current state, complimenting her mask instead. "Thanks! I see you like a mix of the mechanical and the natural too. A mask like that, it's gotta show those Nox you're not one to mess with! And squeamish? Ha!" She pumped her fist into the air, hoping to bolster morale - maybe the quiet man in grey needed it. She certainly did herself, her stomach tightening. Squeamish, an apt term for someone who knew what the Nox were capable of. "After we train up, our enemies are gonna be the squeamish ones when they face off against us!"
She popped the sweet treat under her mask. So far, Archer's kindness had calmed her fears of what sort of authority she and the other Zephyrs would answer to. "Mmm, thanks, good to get a snack to eat instead of wear." All too aware she didn't quite look the part of the intimidating warrior, she nonetheless rummaged through the wooden chest.
"This looks like a nice all-round one..." She pulled out a bladed pistol, the knife a foot long and patterned with veins like a leaf, the materials sturdy yet lightweight enough for easy wielding. She studied it, taking in the design and what she could glean of the mechanics, before turning back to Archer. "More of an energy weapon than one with conventional bullets, right? I'll call it Thorn."