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My timezone is UTC+8. FYI.
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I almost want to make a time traveller who is trying to write a history paper on another topic and accidentally time-travelled here.
umpb
I'm looking for someone to play Dark Souls with. Online. On the PC. Yeah.
Any experience level is okay. Should be as close to GMT+8 as possible. We'll be starting out fresh. And we'll be communicating a lot via some sort of chat.
Any experience level is okay. Should be as close to GMT+8 as possible. We'll be starting out fresh. And we'll be communicating a lot via some sort of chat.
The outpost of Helix Arcaneus located within town boundaries of Antok was one of the weirder places to set up shop for mage handlers. Antok itself used to belong to the Ayyubid Sultanate, a nation of different faith as compared to the Empire of Francia. Seized from the Sultanate when it was a mere village of stone created as an afterthought, the Emperor of Francia personally supervised the construction of new buildings in this new domain. He wanted the architecture of Francia to stand out against the 'barbarism' of foreign buildings.
This attitude showed. A quarter of the buildings in Antok were of Ayyubid nature. The buildings were generally short enough to consist of only a few storeys, and all of them were flat-roofed. Gray was not the first choice for someone looking for architectural beauty, but it fit the buildings well. Small trees, just a head taller than the average man, lined the sides of paths of the original town of Antok, providing shelter and aesthetic beauty. The Ayyubids may have been great conquerors of the East, but they had good taste in architecture.
Even though the Emperor (or at least, an emperor) personally supervised the construction of new buildings, perhaps the emperors involved should have gotten their eyesight checked. Every single building built was coated with a layer of white marble meant to emphasise the empire's wealth. That was the theory. In practice, no one looked directly at a Frankish building when the sunlight bounced off it. The first thing Antok did when the empire starting splitting up was not to do the same and declare independence. Instead, they painted their marble buildings grey.
But back to the outpost of Helix Arcaneus. It mixed both Frankish and Ayyubid architecture, literally. Half of it was built when the Ayyubids first came, and the other half was an expansion commissioned by Helix Arcaneus. Due to meddling from the men upon their thrones, Helix Arcaneus was forced to expand the building in 'Frankish' style, but adamantly kept the Ayyubid side intact. Most architects of the time were horrified at such an abomination, though the thing did end up withstand a couple of earthquakes. It was either masterful architecture, or magic that let Helix Arcaneus skip out on disaster insurance.
At least the grey worked better on Ser Arthur Valmont's eyes. Arthur looked like the typical male soldier or perhaps mercenary. He wore a full suit of steel armour that protected everything but his head. The small shoulder-plates upon the soldier and the boots were coloured a scarlet red, almost matching the dull red irises inside Arthur's intense, no-nonsense gaze. Engravings marked the entirety of the mercenary's armour, though none of the engravings showed any loyalty to any dynasty or nation.
Arthur's head itself matched the feeling the armour gave. The mercenary's eyes stared intensely at just about everything that passed his gaze. There was no magic behind those red eyes, but the feeling of the man's glare had a tendency to strike a glancing blow even before conversations started. Arthur's brown hair was short and of almost even length at the front and back. None of the hair covered his eyes, which allowed his intense gaze even more power over social situations.
It was also only on the man's face could one determine Arthur's skintone. Perhaps this mercenary was born with pink skin, though rough times under the sun had brought it to a light, slightly blemished bronze colour. Arthur's face was free of scars, though. Which either spoke poorly of Arthur's ineptitude, or his ability to avoid such disfiguring injuries. And even the age of 26, Arthur still carried a little youthfulness in his face. Some attributed it to some feminine quality in his facial structure, but Arthur himself would say that he aged well.
A sword hung by the mercenary's side, unsheathed. The metal of the blade was different, but the make of the hilt and handle was still of the noble knight House of Valmont. Few would recognise it, for Valmont was virtually irrelevant even during the prime of Ser Arthur's life. The red handle and hilt, elegantly shaped to resemble the scales of a legendary red dragon, carried twin bell-guards on its handle, and the hilt itself was shaped like a simplified dragon's face, biting into the steel blade. Ser Arthur's sword had seen much action, though it didn't look the part. The single-edged blade itself was clean and free of any defects that hurt its fighting ability.
All that, was how a newcomer would describe Ser Arthur Valmont. All of them would get one thing wrong, however. But who could blame them?
Who could believe that Ser Arthur Valmont was actually a woman? She stood at 1.75 metres in height, and there was no aspect of femininity in her physical build. No bulge on the chest to make such a conclusion or curves to create a suspicion, even without her armour or clothing on. Even her face assisted the deception. Of course, she lacked the obvious physical trait a man had, but no one hunted for that on the first meeting. And no one got far enough in any meeting to begin hunting for that.
It was just as well. In this world, only women could be magically talented. Arthur had the same talents, but she never played the part. Why would anyone choose a life of in the cloisters of magehood, forever bound to live and die in the walls of Helix Arcaneus, when one could be free? Admittedly, she was never even in Helix Arcaneus, though she dealt with them a lot of times. A lot of mages she met and worked with often commented on Arthur's familiarity with magical spells, though they could never make the connection.
When the last mage Arthur worked with decided to retire from adventuring, the masquerade of a man decided that she needed another sorceress by her side. The upfront payment was expensive, but the benefits of having magical firepower at her side was worth the occasional bout of insanity.
When she took her first step in Helix Arcaneus, Arthur took in a deep breath of the tavern air. Helix Arcaneus was technically not a tavern, though the first room played the part down to the letter. Apprentice mages often spent some time here, under the careful overwatch of senior mages and Helix Arcaneus personnel, working their magic through the bar and the tables. It was pretty much one of the few places in Francia where one could order a drink and have it delivered by a levitating tray. Where the ice inside the drinks never melted. And where drunks could flirt with pretty ladies that had the ability to kill them with a thought and an utterance.
The mercenary skipped the tables, carefully gliding past a bar wench that carried her own trays, into the second room that defined Helix Arcaneus. A desk, with a young male receptionist sitting with his back against the wall, scanning through lines of ledgers that stacked up above the top of his seated height at one end of the table. From where Arthur stood, even considering her height, she barely could see a strand of the man's black hair from behind the great wall of books.
"Good morning," she uttered. The tone that came off her tongue would most likely be associated with men, though it would not break one's mind to associate it with women. The law of probabilities dictated the first, but the law of probabilities did not dictate how adventures and stories worked.
The receptionist looked up from his accounts. He gave a nervous smile, one Arthur associated with overworked bureaucrats. Or with henpecked officials dealing with mercenaries that glared like devils.
"H-How can I help you?"
"I'd like to purchase a sorceress as a retainer. Preferably a youthful one." She meant nothing untoward by her second statement, but the look upon the man's face told her everything she needed to know about what he thought about people that asked that sort of question. Arthur knew some people who treated their mages in the least dignifying of ways.
The man plucked out a quill pen and dipped its tip in ink. "Name, please, sir."
"Ser Arthur Valmont. None of my former sorceress companions have had—"
Arthur was interrupted by the man's smile. "Ah yes. Ser Arthur. Positive mage feedback on all accounts except general friendliness and workload management. Even rescued a few of our mages from abusive clients. I hear from some of your former companions that they called you a 'slave driver', though they did reflect that you pushed them to their limits while knowing when to stop."
She didn't smile at any of what he said, but it did make her feel a little warm inside. Mages were people too, though her attitude on that was often lost between her constant need for progress and the intense look she always carried on her face.
The receptionist stood up and extended a hand to clasp Arthur's steel fingers and shook them gently.
"I'll get you our brightest young talents, Ser Arthur. Don't. You. Worry." The man went into the hallway to his right, his image disappearing into the corridors along with his footsteps.
This attitude showed. A quarter of the buildings in Antok were of Ayyubid nature. The buildings were generally short enough to consist of only a few storeys, and all of them were flat-roofed. Gray was not the first choice for someone looking for architectural beauty, but it fit the buildings well. Small trees, just a head taller than the average man, lined the sides of paths of the original town of Antok, providing shelter and aesthetic beauty. The Ayyubids may have been great conquerors of the East, but they had good taste in architecture.
Even though the Emperor (or at least, an emperor) personally supervised the construction of new buildings, perhaps the emperors involved should have gotten their eyesight checked. Every single building built was coated with a layer of white marble meant to emphasise the empire's wealth. That was the theory. In practice, no one looked directly at a Frankish building when the sunlight bounced off it. The first thing Antok did when the empire starting splitting up was not to do the same and declare independence. Instead, they painted their marble buildings grey.
But back to the outpost of Helix Arcaneus. It mixed both Frankish and Ayyubid architecture, literally. Half of it was built when the Ayyubids first came, and the other half was an expansion commissioned by Helix Arcaneus. Due to meddling from the men upon their thrones, Helix Arcaneus was forced to expand the building in 'Frankish' style, but adamantly kept the Ayyubid side intact. Most architects of the time were horrified at such an abomination, though the thing did end up withstand a couple of earthquakes. It was either masterful architecture, or magic that let Helix Arcaneus skip out on disaster insurance.
At least the grey worked better on Ser Arthur Valmont's eyes. Arthur looked like the typical male soldier or perhaps mercenary. He wore a full suit of steel armour that protected everything but his head. The small shoulder-plates upon the soldier and the boots were coloured a scarlet red, almost matching the dull red irises inside Arthur's intense, no-nonsense gaze. Engravings marked the entirety of the mercenary's armour, though none of the engravings showed any loyalty to any dynasty or nation.
Arthur's head itself matched the feeling the armour gave. The mercenary's eyes stared intensely at just about everything that passed his gaze. There was no magic behind those red eyes, but the feeling of the man's glare had a tendency to strike a glancing blow even before conversations started. Arthur's brown hair was short and of almost even length at the front and back. None of the hair covered his eyes, which allowed his intense gaze even more power over social situations.
It was also only on the man's face could one determine Arthur's skintone. Perhaps this mercenary was born with pink skin, though rough times under the sun had brought it to a light, slightly blemished bronze colour. Arthur's face was free of scars, though. Which either spoke poorly of Arthur's ineptitude, or his ability to avoid such disfiguring injuries. And even the age of 26, Arthur still carried a little youthfulness in his face. Some attributed it to some feminine quality in his facial structure, but Arthur himself would say that he aged well.
A sword hung by the mercenary's side, unsheathed. The metal of the blade was different, but the make of the hilt and handle was still of the noble knight House of Valmont. Few would recognise it, for Valmont was virtually irrelevant even during the prime of Ser Arthur's life. The red handle and hilt, elegantly shaped to resemble the scales of a legendary red dragon, carried twin bell-guards on its handle, and the hilt itself was shaped like a simplified dragon's face, biting into the steel blade. Ser Arthur's sword had seen much action, though it didn't look the part. The single-edged blade itself was clean and free of any defects that hurt its fighting ability.
All that, was how a newcomer would describe Ser Arthur Valmont. All of them would get one thing wrong, however. But who could blame them?
Who could believe that Ser Arthur Valmont was actually a woman? She stood at 1.75 metres in height, and there was no aspect of femininity in her physical build. No bulge on the chest to make such a conclusion or curves to create a suspicion, even without her armour or clothing on. Even her face assisted the deception. Of course, she lacked the obvious physical trait a man had, but no one hunted for that on the first meeting. And no one got far enough in any meeting to begin hunting for that.
It was just as well. In this world, only women could be magically talented. Arthur had the same talents, but she never played the part. Why would anyone choose a life of in the cloisters of magehood, forever bound to live and die in the walls of Helix Arcaneus, when one could be free? Admittedly, she was never even in Helix Arcaneus, though she dealt with them a lot of times. A lot of mages she met and worked with often commented on Arthur's familiarity with magical spells, though they could never make the connection.
When the last mage Arthur worked with decided to retire from adventuring, the masquerade of a man decided that she needed another sorceress by her side. The upfront payment was expensive, but the benefits of having magical firepower at her side was worth the occasional bout of insanity.
When she took her first step in Helix Arcaneus, Arthur took in a deep breath of the tavern air. Helix Arcaneus was technically not a tavern, though the first room played the part down to the letter. Apprentice mages often spent some time here, under the careful overwatch of senior mages and Helix Arcaneus personnel, working their magic through the bar and the tables. It was pretty much one of the few places in Francia where one could order a drink and have it delivered by a levitating tray. Where the ice inside the drinks never melted. And where drunks could flirt with pretty ladies that had the ability to kill them with a thought and an utterance.
The mercenary skipped the tables, carefully gliding past a bar wench that carried her own trays, into the second room that defined Helix Arcaneus. A desk, with a young male receptionist sitting with his back against the wall, scanning through lines of ledgers that stacked up above the top of his seated height at one end of the table. From where Arthur stood, even considering her height, she barely could see a strand of the man's black hair from behind the great wall of books.
"Good morning," she uttered. The tone that came off her tongue would most likely be associated with men, though it would not break one's mind to associate it with women. The law of probabilities dictated the first, but the law of probabilities did not dictate how adventures and stories worked.
The receptionist looked up from his accounts. He gave a nervous smile, one Arthur associated with overworked bureaucrats. Or with henpecked officials dealing with mercenaries that glared like devils.
"H-How can I help you?"
"I'd like to purchase a sorceress as a retainer. Preferably a youthful one." She meant nothing untoward by her second statement, but the look upon the man's face told her everything she needed to know about what he thought about people that asked that sort of question. Arthur knew some people who treated their mages in the least dignifying of ways.
The man plucked out a quill pen and dipped its tip in ink. "Name, please, sir."
"Ser Arthur Valmont. None of my former sorceress companions have had—"
Arthur was interrupted by the man's smile. "Ah yes. Ser Arthur. Positive mage feedback on all accounts except general friendliness and workload management. Even rescued a few of our mages from abusive clients. I hear from some of your former companions that they called you a 'slave driver', though they did reflect that you pushed them to their limits while knowing when to stop."
She didn't smile at any of what he said, but it did make her feel a little warm inside. Mages were people too, though her attitude on that was often lost between her constant need for progress and the intense look she always carried on her face.
The receptionist stood up and extended a hand to clasp Arthur's steel fingers and shook them gently.
"I'll get you our brightest young talents, Ser Arthur. Don't. You. Worry." The man went into the hallway to his right, his image disappearing into the corridors along with his footsteps.
Name: Ser Arthur Valmont
Age: 26 (586 - )
Appearance:
Arthur is about 1.75 metres tall. She doesn't have the cape. And her sword isn't on fire. She's as flat as she looks, and has a semi-masculine physical build (for a girl) even underneath her clothing and armour.
Skills:
Swordplay: Arthur has 9 years of sword-fighting experience.
Magic?: Arthur, while technically born with magic, has kept her skills hidden. Her magical power exists, but she doesn't know how to use it beyond creating small flames and making lights. And occasionally setting her sword on fire by accident.
Tactician: Arthur is generally competent in leading small groups of mercenaries, soldiers or mages.
Brief History: A former knight from the Kingdom of Valois, Arthur was at the front-lines of the wars that characterised the disastrous 'Era of 5 Emperors'. The only daughter of a count who thought that having a knight 'son' would help further his ambitions in the short-lived kingdom of Valois. Arthur, already quite a masculine girl to begin with, was pressed into joining the armies of Valois and fast-tracked to become a knight at the age of 17. She made herself known as a capable tactical commander, but her long-term strategies failed to see Valois through the dark times of the Era of the 5 Emperors.
Valois fell during the time that Emperor Jonathan was in charge (when she was about 20), and Arthur took the opportunity to escape from her father. She took up work as a mercenary, joining the 'Black Iron' company. Without knowing how to act like a lady, she took the only other choice and acted like a man and a soldier. For 6 years, she made herself quite famous even within Black Iron. Her real gender was revealed to some by accident, though just about the entirety of Black Iron members who knew considered her too competent to be sexist against. She partnered with a few mages, some of whom suspected that Arthur had magical talent, but none of them had anything solid to cling onto such beliefs.
When she left the Black Iron on amicable terms, she decided to look to create her own group. And the first person to find would be a mage.
Personality: Arthur's intense and dislikes nonsense. The job, to her, is everything, and she tolerates very little tomfoolery. Though she's actually quite decent to her mage partners, most of them call her a 'fair person, though a slave-driver'. She's even quite intense off the job.
Misc: Arthur likes guys. And girls. Though she is resigned to thinking that romance will not likely a part of her life.
Era of 5 Emperors
Emperor Phillip III (578 - 609 Oct): The last emperor to rule more than 1 year. Phillip III was unable to prevent the many petty kingdoms around him from declaring their independence. When the kingdom of Valois and the kingdom of Orleans declared their independence in the year 603, Phillip personally led the armies against them, but to no avail. As more kingdoms declared their independence as well, the Emperor was unable to resolve their rebelliousness, even after 6 years, he was overthrown in a coup by General Francis. Francis then installed himself as Emperor.
Emperor Francis (609 Oct - 610 Jan): Francis tried to change the policies of the empire, allowing mages their own independence in the empire's army rather than subjugating them to a non-magical handler. However, another general by the name of Johann would be outraged by this. He would launch his own coup, and install himself.
Emperor Johann (610 Jan - 610 Jul): Johann reversed the reforms Francis instated. As a compromise with the army commanders that sought more independence, Johann allowed them to decide their own courses of action so long as they vowed to protect the empire. This worked as well as you thought it would. Johann was killed in a palace coup by General Jonathan, one of those army commanders that really lusted for power.
Emperor Jonathan (610 Jul - 611 Jun): Ironically one of the longer lasting emperors, Jonathan was a tyrant to the core. The only thing really keeping Jonathan in power was that despite his own greed, his military skill was without compare. He crushed 3 of the kingdoms and put its people to the sword. He would be assassinated by a palace eunuch by the name of Karl. Karl installed General Guy as emperor. Guy showed his appreciation to Karl by having him executed for treason.
Emperor Guy (611 Jun - 612 Mar): More of an administrator than a commander, Guy managed to politick his way into reuniting some parts of the old empire back. However, his 'peace before war' views did not sit well with some of the generals. General Godwin would act upon these thoughts, killing Emperor Guy and placing himself as Emperor.
Emperor Godwin: (612 Apr -): Taking the throne just a month ago, Godwin has sought the annihilation of all the petty kingdoms. He has reinstituted mages into the Imperial Army, but unlike Emperor Francis, he has subjugated them to tighter leashes.
His utter dedication to war has made the kingdoms fight in a true struggle for their survival, but everything else in Francia has gone to shit. Bandits rule the roads when no armies are marching past. Goblins have become bolder and have begun attacking towns. And there are worse things to fear than Emperor Godwin's wrath.
Age: 26 (586 - )
Appearance:
Arthur is about 1.75 metres tall. She doesn't have the cape. And her sword isn't on fire. She's as flat as she looks, and has a semi-masculine physical build (for a girl) even underneath her clothing and armour.
Skills:
Swordplay: Arthur has 9 years of sword-fighting experience.
Magic?: Arthur, while technically born with magic, has kept her skills hidden. Her magical power exists, but she doesn't know how to use it beyond creating small flames and making lights. And occasionally setting her sword on fire by accident.
Tactician: Arthur is generally competent in leading small groups of mercenaries, soldiers or mages.
Brief History: A former knight from the Kingdom of Valois, Arthur was at the front-lines of the wars that characterised the disastrous 'Era of 5 Emperors'. The only daughter of a count who thought that having a knight 'son' would help further his ambitions in the short-lived kingdom of Valois. Arthur, already quite a masculine girl to begin with, was pressed into joining the armies of Valois and fast-tracked to become a knight at the age of 17. She made herself known as a capable tactical commander, but her long-term strategies failed to see Valois through the dark times of the Era of the 5 Emperors.
Valois fell during the time that Emperor Jonathan was in charge (when she was about 20), and Arthur took the opportunity to escape from her father. She took up work as a mercenary, joining the 'Black Iron' company. Without knowing how to act like a lady, she took the only other choice and acted like a man and a soldier. For 6 years, she made herself quite famous even within Black Iron. Her real gender was revealed to some by accident, though just about the entirety of Black Iron members who knew considered her too competent to be sexist against. She partnered with a few mages, some of whom suspected that Arthur had magical talent, but none of them had anything solid to cling onto such beliefs.
When she left the Black Iron on amicable terms, she decided to look to create her own group. And the first person to find would be a mage.
Personality: Arthur's intense and dislikes nonsense. The job, to her, is everything, and she tolerates very little tomfoolery. Though she's actually quite decent to her mage partners, most of them call her a 'fair person, though a slave-driver'. She's even quite intense off the job.
Misc: Arthur likes guys. And girls. Though she is resigned to thinking that romance will not likely a part of her life.
Era of 5 Emperors
Emperor Phillip III (578 - 609 Oct): The last emperor to rule more than 1 year. Phillip III was unable to prevent the many petty kingdoms around him from declaring their independence. When the kingdom of Valois and the kingdom of Orleans declared their independence in the year 603, Phillip personally led the armies against them, but to no avail. As more kingdoms declared their independence as well, the Emperor was unable to resolve their rebelliousness, even after 6 years, he was overthrown in a coup by General Francis. Francis then installed himself as Emperor.
Emperor Francis (609 Oct - 610 Jan): Francis tried to change the policies of the empire, allowing mages their own independence in the empire's army rather than subjugating them to a non-magical handler. However, another general by the name of Johann would be outraged by this. He would launch his own coup, and install himself.
Emperor Johann (610 Jan - 610 Jul): Johann reversed the reforms Francis instated. As a compromise with the army commanders that sought more independence, Johann allowed them to decide their own courses of action so long as they vowed to protect the empire. This worked as well as you thought it would. Johann was killed in a palace coup by General Jonathan, one of those army commanders that really lusted for power.
Emperor Jonathan (610 Jul - 611 Jun): Ironically one of the longer lasting emperors, Jonathan was a tyrant to the core. The only thing really keeping Jonathan in power was that despite his own greed, his military skill was without compare. He crushed 3 of the kingdoms and put its people to the sword. He would be assassinated by a palace eunuch by the name of Karl. Karl installed General Guy as emperor. Guy showed his appreciation to Karl by having him executed for treason.
Emperor Guy (611 Jun - 612 Mar): More of an administrator than a commander, Guy managed to politick his way into reuniting some parts of the old empire back. However, his 'peace before war' views did not sit well with some of the generals. General Godwin would act upon these thoughts, killing Emperor Guy and placing himself as Emperor.
Emperor Godwin: (612 Apr -): Taking the throne just a month ago, Godwin has sought the annihilation of all the petty kingdoms. He has reinstituted mages into the Imperial Army, but unlike Emperor Francis, he has subjugated them to tighter leashes.
His utter dedication to war has made the kingdoms fight in a true struggle for their survival, but everything else in Francia has gone to shit. Bandits rule the roads when no armies are marching past. Goblins have become bolder and have begun attacking towns. And there are worse things to fear than Emperor Godwin's wrath.
Well, they all had the prime of their lives.
Enders? No reference to the Mongols? The Romans? The Greeks under Alexander?
Rule 34.
Spencer held her stoic face when she saw Elena exit the cafe, though she did wonder why the cheerleader left the cafe. The cup of coffee upon her table was still steaming the air with warmth, and there was a washroom inside the cafe as well. Not the cleanest of female washrooms, but it was still usable. If the girl was outside the cafe when the gas took effect, Spencer had a plan in mind.
Act confused. Deny knowledge.
The gas took effect, just as predicted. There were a few crashes of ceramic cups as the people that held onto them lost their consciousness. "What... is going on?" Spencer asked. She sounded confused, but her expression failed to match her tone. If Elena had not noticed that gas, Spencer would have a hard time explaining why she left the cafe when things like these were going to happen.
Then again, what were the chances of some schoolgirl expecting her to be a former trained assassin? (Emphasis on the 'former'.)
But when that strange woman appeared from behind them, the answer was probably 'very fucking likely'.
"Who are you?" Spencer directed her emotionless voice at the newcomer. The muscles in her hand tensed up, and she imagined the motions. In less than a second, she could reach in, grab her silenced pistol and shoot. The woman herself did not look to be carrying any weapons, meaning that Spencer had some sort of physical advantage.
"Good afternoon, Spencer Hilden. Elena Moriarty. Strange to be adopting such names." The woman spoke in a strong Spanish accent that implied connections with Western Europe. She took a few steps forward. Spencer maintained her emotionless look, but took a step back. Just because she didn't show her emotions did not mean that she lacked them.
Spencer shot a sidewards glance to Elena, and her gaze darted through the rooftops again. Still no potential snipers.
The woman extended a hand towards Spencer and Elena, with a smile. Whether the smile was genuine or not, it still sent a shiver down Spencer's spine. Who was she? And why did she confront her and the cheerleader?
"You came through all this trouble, to deal with two high school girls?"
Spencer waited for her answer. There was a little trick she knew about procuring information from others. Pretend to know more than they do, and wait for them to drop their guard and say it. Perhaps this woman knew enough, but not enough, about her. Perhaps Elena was just an innocent party.
Just believing it felt fake. Just like her personality in school. Just like her name and her new life.
But I like my mask.
Act confused. Deny knowledge.
The gas took effect, just as predicted. There were a few crashes of ceramic cups as the people that held onto them lost their consciousness. "What... is going on?" Spencer asked. She sounded confused, but her expression failed to match her tone. If Elena had not noticed that gas, Spencer would have a hard time explaining why she left the cafe when things like these were going to happen.
Then again, what were the chances of some schoolgirl expecting her to be a former trained assassin? (Emphasis on the 'former'.)
But when that strange woman appeared from behind them, the answer was probably 'very fucking likely'.
"Who are you?" Spencer directed her emotionless voice at the newcomer. The muscles in her hand tensed up, and she imagined the motions. In less than a second, she could reach in, grab her silenced pistol and shoot. The woman herself did not look to be carrying any weapons, meaning that Spencer had some sort of physical advantage.
"Good afternoon, Spencer Hilden. Elena Moriarty. Strange to be adopting such names." The woman spoke in a strong Spanish accent that implied connections with Western Europe. She took a few steps forward. Spencer maintained her emotionless look, but took a step back. Just because she didn't show her emotions did not mean that she lacked them.
Spencer shot a sidewards glance to Elena, and her gaze darted through the rooftops again. Still no potential snipers.
The woman extended a hand towards Spencer and Elena, with a smile. Whether the smile was genuine or not, it still sent a shiver down Spencer's spine. Who was she? And why did she confront her and the cheerleader?
"You came through all this trouble, to deal with two high school girls?"
Spencer waited for her answer. There was a little trick she knew about procuring information from others. Pretend to know more than they do, and wait for them to drop their guard and say it. Perhaps this woman knew enough, but not enough, about her. Perhaps Elena was just an innocent party.
Just believing it felt fake. Just like her personality in school. Just like her name and her new life.
But I like my mask.
Or a mixture. MLP pr0n.
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