Rigmarole

Sengoku Space Opera

Trịnh Văn Sơn

_{Tranquility Gardens}

While Sơn could not much taste the tea these days, the warmth still felt pleasant in his throat. He sipped it through a straw--when he had asked for one, the serving girl had a puzzled expression on her face until she saw his--while he watched the scene before him. Dressed in a worn monk's robes that he had obtained and under his jingasa, in this garden he would have looked the picture of a mendicant ascetic or ragged scholar enjoying tea while surrounded by blossoming flowers. Another man his age might have felt content.

Yet Sơn was rather unsettled. There was, of course, the situation with his future employment. Sơn had considered simply offering his spear, right now at his side inside the saya and looking no more dangerous than a spade, to one or another zaibatsu lord. But that would have left him no better off than before, once again a low-ranking bushi at his age. The ambition he had would not allow him to accept that again; he would prefer to simply die in this garden if that were to be the case. To find an opportunity to thrust himself into the great events of the day was why he had left the Nobuzai in the first place. These thoughts led up to the more present cause of his unease, the man that was now seated on a bench a little ways across from Sơn.

Sơn had only caught the man, and the flash of his ring, by chance as the other entered the gardens, afterwards speaking to the serving girl who had brought tea to Sơn earlier. While these connections were only tenuous, Sơn still wondered at the chances of that ring bearing the Oda mokko. He sipped his tea again and thought back to the underworld hacker who had removed the tracking implants for Sơn. While Sơn had made sure the job was done correctly, the hacker could still, of course, be made to talk, and the Nobuzai agents had their ways of doing that. While Sơn did want to face off with the Nobuzai, and did think that dying in this garden would not be too bad, to do so in a street fight with some mere underling would be immensely unsatisfying.

It could, Sơn thought, simply be his nerves that made him think the other man was eyeing him every so often and pretending otherwise. Experience had made him careful, perhaps overly so. Still, he was done with his tea, and it would not profit him to linger in any case. He pulled the jingasa lower over his brow and stood up to leave, taking his spear with him. His bad leg bothered him a bit from sitting too long, but he ignored it. After all, as Sơn would not suffer accepting an inelegant death, he planned on living at least as long again as he already had, and he would have to get used to it sometime.

_@Hellis

Midnight Sun: Last Song Over the Horizon

<Snipped quote by Rigmarole>

Currently, we have only two GMs and uh 3-4 interested parties. That leaves a bit of capspace. So uh, yeah, we've got room for prospective folks.

@Inkarnate

Cool. Whenever the character sheets go up and if you and Feyblue will have me, I could play either gender character as needed.

Midnight Sun: Last Song Over the Horizon

Is there room? My conquest is the sea of anime sci-fi.

The Adamant World

Franca Mintz

"Raven, huh? So you're new too." Franca leaned forward and rested her chin on her hand propped up on the table, giving the woman before her a once over, and smiled. "I thought you might have been an old hand at this, since you looked kinda bored sitting here is all. No offense though. Me, I can't get enough of this place," she said cheerily. "'Course, I haven't even seen most of it yet."

Franca looked all around the feasting hall for a bit before returning her attention to Raven. "Been all over this town and still there are things that are a mystery to me. A guild hall carved into the bloody cliff face, how about that? I'd say someone had too much money and too little sense," Franca said with a chuckle, though her expression then became a little wry. "I hear Vale Craft isn't even the richest guild out there, yet they still have a place like this. I'd heard the stories, but it's more than I could have ever imagined. And we work here now."

But then Franca's usual brightness returned to her face. "And the food is amazing as well. Say, if you'll forgive me for eating, would you be so kind as to forgive me for eating this, too?" Franca reached across the table and pulled with her finger the tray in front of Raven slightly towards herself, grinning widely. "It'd be a shame if this went to waste." As she leaned in closer, Franca gave another glance at Raven, at the hair that was almost white, even against the fair skin. "You should maybe have some soup, though, since you seem a little pale," she joked, laughing a bit. "You've got some look. I haven't seen hair like that before. You're not from around here, are you?"

_@wolverbells

The Adamant World

Franca Mintz

Seeing a third woman approaching, and especially the sword and dagger at her side, Franca became a bit apprehensive. "Oh, uh, yes, I'm new. The name's Franca," she said while making a smile happen and putting some levity in her voice. "Well hey, even if you won't eat, I hope you won't stop me. If you'll excuse me." She waved again as she walked off.

Franca made her way towards the bar and quickly pilfered a roll on a plate before making off for the tables. She wondered whether it was smart for guild members to openly wear arms like that, especially in light of the stories she had heard of Miram's Smiths. In any case, it was Franca's best practice to give the armed and dangerous a wide berth. Experience had so far taught Franca that the ones who strutted around like that were, one, quick to draw, and two, quick to do so because they were either assholes or idiots. When around people like that, someone tended to end up maimed or worse, and that person was as like to be the sword-swinging nut as the person they were swinging at.

She spotted a woman in black sitting alone at the far end of a table and went to sit down as if she had someone to meet, taking a bite out of the roll as she did. To her surprise it was white and sweet, not like the dark bread she was used to. She wolfed it down in a few quick bites before she remembered the person sitting in front of her.

"Oh, sorry about that. Had to get something down. Starving, you know," she said while offering a hand. "Name's Franca. I just joined the guild the other day."

_{@wolverbells@Snagglepuss89@OppositionJ@Jinxer}

The Adamant World

Franca Mintz

The smell of saltwater and gutted fish filled the air in this cramped alley, only some ways from the fishing docks, and stuffed itself up Franca's nose. It was nostalgic. Franca walked down to the end of the alley and to the rickety wooden door there, just shadowed by the light of a sun that was yet to rise. She softly knocked on the door thrice. No answer. She thought for a moment, then knocked again.

“It’s me,” Franca called out this time.

A moment passed. Now, though, the door cracked open and a dirty face peered out. Then the door opened more fully to reveal a boy, younger than Franca by some years, with a cautious expression on his face, though it brightened up when he saw she was alone.

"Franca,” the boy began, surprised. But then he put on a sour look. “You haven't come to see us for some time. Her ladyship the Powder Mage doesn't have time for her once boon companions?"

“Good to see you too, Peter.” Franca laughed a little while rubbing the back of her head. Her ladyship the Powder Mage. She somewhat liked that sound of that. "They keep me busy at the guild, you know. This Alexandreus fellow especially, that one's a real taskmaster."

Peter snorted, now grinning. "To be sure, if you actually are one of those mages now. It's just as like that you've become someone's woman."

"Oh?" Franca smiled menacingly, then clapped the boy's face in between her palms, just enough to sting. "What cheek. You've gotten a fouler mouth since last we met. You sturdy beggar, I ought to report you to the authorities. Have you sent to a workhouse."

"Don't even say that. That'd be a cruel jape," the boy said, brushing away Franca's hands. "Well, are you coming in?"

Franca looked over Peter's shoulder, where two girls even younger than the boy before her were huddled asleep together on the floor under a thin, roughspun blanket. Franca smiled, but shook her head.

"That's alright. I wouldn't want to wake them."

"Elisa and Anna? They'll be sad to know they were asleep when you came by."

"All the same, I have to get going." Of course, Franca would have liked to have seen them too. But today the guild was going to assign her to a team to accept jobs and she didn't want to be late. Still, there was something she wanted to resolve here before she left. "More importantly," Franca began again, tapping on the open door with her knuckles, "is the lessor giving you trouble?"

The boy frowned immediately. He opened his mouth as if to speak, hesitated, opened and closed it again. "No," he said finally, unconvincingly, looking down at the ground.

Franca looked at the boy for a moment, then sighed. She opened a clasp on a pouch at her belt, drew the drawstring on a bag in there, and counted out some coins in her hand. She took the boy's hand and forced the coins into his palm, though she wondered if she wouldn’t be doing exactly what he was doing now if their positions were switched. Then she counted out a few more coins and forced those in there too.

"That's for the lessor. It's enough to keep him away for a while. And that's for you to share with the other kids.” Franca noticed Peter’s hesitation. “The guild gave me an advance on my wages," she said in explanation, speaking without pause for the boy to respond. "They're going to let me do jobs now."

The boy stood agape and Franca wondered if he was perhaps caught between rejecting the money or asking for more. But, finally, the boy closed his hand around the coins. Then he looked up to Franca in the eye. "The guild—you've used the Adamant there, haven't you? Would you let me try? To see if I have the flare?"

"Absolutely not,” Franca replied immediately, a hint of anger in her voice. “What rubbish. You should know that Adamant can turn your insides to fire."

"But you did it, Franca. Now you’re a mage."

"That's because I'm made of sterner stuff, you daft boy." Franca thought back to that time she first took the powder, about how she was certain then that in her feeble shape even the diluted stuff would be the end of her and took it anyway. "And I was out of options then."

"Well, I’m out of options now," the boy spat.

"You're not," Franca spat back, unrelenting. "Not yet. But if something went wrong, if you became ill, if you couldn’t work, then you would be. Who would take care of you then? Who would take care of your sisters?" As the words came out of her mouth, she wondered who it was she was really scolding. Then she noticed the boy’s hand clenched around the coins turn white. Smiling a bit ruefully, she started again, kinder this time. “Save a little bit of money, so you won’t have to worry when the time comes. Then the next time there’s a muster, I’ll come get you.”

Peter looked as if he was about to argue, but then quietly assented. “Okay.”

“And once you’ve done that, you can pay your debts to me.”

“I—you—” The boy looked taken aback.

“That wasn’t a gift, you know. I’m fully planning on collecting.” Franca chuckled. “So you can accept that money now without a problem.” Franca saw that he couldn’t think of what to say, so he simply nodded. “Don’t let anything happen to your sisters,” she continued. The boy nodded again. Franca smirked and ruffled his hair. “That’s a good lad. Now go back to sleep. It’s too damn early for kids like you to be up.”

Peter stepped back to close the door, but then paused for a moment. “Thank you, Franca,” he managed to say in the end.

Franca nodded back. “Sure. Tell Elisa and Anna I said hello.”

When the door closed before her, Franca took one last whiff of the salt and rot, then made her way back through the streets of Dilei, following the shore. By now the town was waking up and already throwing themselves into opening markets and making sales. The fishing docks soon gave way to the commercial center, the shipping docks, and instead of the smell what you noticed now was the din of stevedores hauling loads and merchants negotiating dockside deals. Then there were the bluffs that stood above it all, along with the Vale Craft Guild that was carved into the rock there.

In truth, Franca was in awe of the scale, and luxury, of it all, especially as the sun rose behind her and illuminated the grand entrance. She remembered the hovel she had visited earlier and felt something bitter come up the back of her throat, but she swallowed that. Still, she thought as she pushed one of the smaller doors to actually enter the guild, she could not disagree with the incredible sense of making the feasting hall the first room one entered. And it was there that Franca saw a woman in white alongside another that gave a dark impression, both bathed in the light of sunrise streaming through the windows.

“Hey there, you two,” Franca called brashly, waving in greeting. “Here for breakfast are you? I can already smell it.”

_{@OppositionJ@Jinxer}

The Adamant World

Franca Mintz

Franca Mintz

Picture

Age: 20 | Sex: F

Appearance:
Franca is wiry and small, explosive; the impression one gets is of a bullet. She has the look of someone who's gone through good times and bad, and had to scrape by all the way through. Right now she's on one of her good times, so she has the bloom of someone with money in her pocket and breakfast in her stomach, but the somewhat gaunt lines of her cheeks tell that hasn't always been the case. Though fit and lithe in a street urchin's way, Franca hopes that will change soon, and it will if the pay and eating remains good.

Flare:
Scry - Franca's Flare is scrying of the remotely sensing kind. Generally, this requires Franca to at least see the object or person to be scried, which then gives Franca an accurate sense of where it is, in terms of direction and distance. Fulfilling certain conditions, however, allows Franca to scry despite having a tenuous connection or to scry with greater accuracy. For example, to locate someone that Franca has never seen before, some of that person's hair or personal trinket might allow Franca a general sense of what direction that person is in. To pinpoint a location for someone she has never seen, she would require something that was once very attached to that person, like a personal diary or limb. Furthermore, given a map, Franca can point out a scried location on that map with a greater level of accuracy than she could otherwise, as long as she has been to that location before. The scrying is also easier if Franca has previously met or touched the target before, with greater duration making the scrying proportionately easier. Scrying with the time and safety needed to focus is best, but Franca can manage it while rushed or otherwise engaged by consuming a greater amount of Adamant. The scrying is easier as the distance closes. Finally, Franca's scrying gives no information about what state the scried target is in, nor can her scrying track a moving target without continuously consuming the required Adamant.

The amount of Adamant required for Franca's scrying varies. To scry a person or thing she has never seen and closely pinpoint the location, given something that was once very attached to the target and the time to focus, requires Franca to consume a whole one-hour dose for a scry that might only last a few minutes. To scry a target she has been able to look at for ten minutes to pinpoint a general distance and direction would require about a tenth of that dose. To scry a personal possession or a companion that she has known for some time would require just a few licks, or a little more if she wanted to, say, pinpoint a building the target is in on a map; to continuously scry such a target would take a small lump of Adamant held in the lower lip. Any Adamant consumed over this amount is left over for Franca's secondary Flare.

History: Franca is a Dilei brat, one who has always toughed it out on the city's streets. Her parents were landless laborers, her father a dockworker and her mother a clotheswasher. As a child she assisted both parents, helping them make just enough to lease a roof over their heads. Franca loved them, really. They were straightforward folk and unsympathetic towards a child's nonsense, as parents are. But they provided, protected, and let Franca be as much of a child as they could. She grieved when her parents passed, her father in a dock accident and her mother from consumption some time after, working herself to death to try and make enough to live. In a sense, these were blameless deaths, but she resented that they had happened, and the poverty that came with it.

Franca couldn't linger on their deaths for long, though. She was ten at that time and able to work, and she did. Initially Franca attempted to keep her mother's cleaning work, but that was always meager and unsure, so in time she was everything from beggar to petty thief to house servant, though she was particularly unsuited for that last one. But for the longest stretch of time she was a courier, a valuable if precarious occupation in a town where commerce was more and more the dominant way of life. She delivered packages and mail through the winding streets of Dilei and, therefore, money into the merchants' pockets.

Over time, Franca made relationships with the other urban poor. She had to, to survive. Alone, a bout of sickness or even just not having work for a long enough time could be fatal. With others, things could be easier, if not easy. Certainly, there were some along the way that could only look out for themselves, but Franca learned early on to disassociate from them. Eventually, she became particularly attached to a family of three, orphan kids like herself, and became something like an unofficial big sister to them.

Still, despite these relationships, the work was always lacking. When Highprinces turn to trade for their wealth, money and commerce is king, and the steady movement of people from the country to the towns of commerce meant that the competition for steady jobs was fierce.

It was during a particularly long stretch of joblessness that Franca came across one of the guild musters for new Powder Mages, this one held by the Vale Craft Guild. She had heard the stories about Adamant use, how it burned you from the inside if you didn't have the spark, how you could die, and even if you didn't end up dead you'd be knotted up enough that you might as well be if you didn't have someone looking after you, and Franca didn't. That had so far kept her away. But at that point Franca was willing to have poison if she could have bread after, so she took the diluted Adamant. Though nothing seemed to happen, she curiously she didn't heave bile onto the ground. The Vale Craft Guild was good enough to take that as proof that she had some Flare and kept her around until she discovered she had a knack for finding something or someone that was lost. Having since had the time to test out the limits of her ability, the Vale Craft Guild's higher ups have finally given her clearance to accept some jobs.

Personality: Franca lives her life by her gut instinct. While she has had to toughen up considerably since her parents' passing, Franca is determined to survive on her own terms. Though she's been in her fair share of street scraps, she's been crafty enough to get out of more, preferring a live-and-let-live mentality. She had an informal quid pro quo with some of the other urchins and she wouldn't have made it through the bad stretches without it. She has a particularly soft spot for those younger than her, and she's been known to go without so a kid wouldn't have to.

Still, Franca's experiences have given her a set of bad quirks. She's quick to judge others as friends or enemies, and she stubbornly holds onto first impressions. Further, while she has a friendly manner, this tends to come off as irreverence, and it often really is. Lastly, she remains bitter over her parents' passing and the circumstances that brought about.