Avatar of Raches
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    1. Raches 8 yrs ago

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It was midday, and the golden sun shone brightly in the sky over Albayza. From where she lay sprawled out on her bed Gwendolyn could hear the familiar shrill squawking of gulls down by the port. A soft breeze blew in through the window, causing the dark curtains to billow gently as glittering rays of sun pierced the musty din of the room beyond. Strewn across the floor of the space were countless little pieces of metal. Ball-bearings, screws, knobs, crystalline conductors, all sorts of technical junk. Rising from her bed slowly, Gwen clutched her chest as a ragged cough racked her slender pale body. Grimacing slightly, she tiptoed over the clutter to an ornate silver mirror across the room and gazed into its depths with tired eyes. The shadowy bags under her eyes had grown from her lack of sleep, and her pale face glowed slightly from the harsh sun filtering in through the window. Her mousy brown hair stuck up wildly in all directions, every hair seeming to have a mind of its own. With a sigh and a cough Gwendolyn did her best to tame the tangled mass with a tiny comb. Finally giving up, she tossed the rest into a ponytail and muttered, “Good enough.”

Gwen would have spent the entire day in her shaded room if it was not for the hunger that clawed at her stomach. Snatching a tiny bronze object off her bedside table she rushed out of the room and down the hall. Gwendolyn had been staying at L'Hôtel d'Albi whilst waiting for the ship The North Wind to make it to port. To her the ship held promise of adventure and most of all, answers. She had noted other members of the crew who were staying there, as there were often crowds of people around them gawking and asking questions. Gwen however had asked specifically for her name to not be mentioned, as she hated the prospect of becoming something akin to a zoo animal; a simple spectacle. Making her way down the stairs from where her room was, Gwen made her way over to the dining hall of L'Hôtel d'Albi. The delightful scent of something sweet wound its way over to her nose, and her stomach began to growl in longing. The architecture of the dining hall (as well as the entire building) was flowery and horrible. As she stuffed herself with unhealthy foods-pancakes, tea cakes, all forms of cake-she pulled out a small brown book from the dusty coat hung around her waist. It was common for Gwen to suddenly get ideas for new designs, and for this she always carried around a tiny journal to keep track of her scattered thoughts. After completing a brief schematic for some sort of stabilizing component she stood up and began to trudge her way back to her room.

For the rest of the day Gwen sat in her room tinkering with different ideas she had come up with. Different ways to capture and use the inert magical energy of the world. As the shadows lengthened and eventually faded to blackness she continued to toil late on into the dark of night, only the soft orange glow of a lantern guided her spindly fingers. At last when she could work no longer she crawled back into bed with heavy feet, her eyes refusing to be open any longer.

When morning came it brought with it a rainstorm. The sun was completely covered in clouds, and soft sheets of warm rain had begun to fall slowly over the port city. However this was no ordinary morn; this was the day when The North Wind was set to arrive to take her crew away on the adventure of a lifetime. Unfortunately for Gwendolyn, the darkness and the soft lullaby of rain kept her in bed for the majority of the day. At last after hours of sleep she awoke, looking lazily over at the clock on her bedside table. Her eyes shot open, and with an exasperated groan she hopped across the room hastily gathering up her things. Not even bothering to do her hair, she jumped out into the hallway and slammed the door behind her, wheezing as she did so. Taking a small puff of her inhaler she sputtered,

“Aw dang it,” she said with another hoarse cough, “I’m late!”


@Jacobite @Sylph

Here goes nothing.



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