Rockette

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Time to breathe life back into this thread, my fault for this stagnation, my life has been gradually pulling me away from role playing and Requiem - work, family, personal matters. However, I'm determined to revive the story; but I must inquire to everyone involved if you're still with me and desiring to continue. If you wish to depart, I won't hold the decision against you. I know some are still drawn away due to their own lives, and that's fine and understandable of course!

So, give me your thoughts and decisions my dears and then we shall see where Requiem goes.

{Closed}

Y T O N E

^{"Help they who know not their own lives; their deaths; their lives. Let them know their own depths of Fate and despair, allow them to fall into death."}

Unknown Location — Test of the Faceless — 250 — 6 / 8

^{And so my dearest. . .}

Little resistance felled her blade, the double—edged alloy seduced and plied flesh apart, and betwixt the plies of flesh obsidian malady oozed and festered, thickening and inviting into the whorl of ebony that began to conglomerate. Sudden regret and realization dawned on her consciousness, spurring leather twined soles to withdraw, scuffling over parched soil as silver—coined eyes widened and gathered the specs of the viscous black that swarmed into a mass. Her grasp flexed, wringing Raksha's hilt with pallid bone burning beneath taut skin in her perplexity and subject of witness. The magic was pure and suffocating and betrayed the constitution of traditional spell casting, it bypassed the law of equivalency all were sired under when daring to partake of the cancerous mana from a cursed energy source. The betrayal of the summons made her flesh thrum and quiver, the paleness of her skin nearly translucent as the black of her own taint boiled and rose to fruition, shuddering beneath and across her arms disciplined and tense from the flex of muscle and venom that afflicted it. Ytone was absolute and rigid, fixated into place and forsaken by wonder and morbid fascination as the foiled opposition ascended and deformed into the arisen monstrosity of blackened magical inclination.

She would almost configure her station as admiration and into being seduced by the presentation of a worthier foe, but Ytone couldn't configure or deduce why her legs refused to respond to basic commands. Whilst her fingers and palms burned with a notion to strike retribution and gather penance from the obsidian wraith, her thighs and calves clamped tight and she could feel the poison of her own magic ooze and fester in her capillaries broadening to the surface of her skin; akin to macabre braille. Ytone pondered, briefly, if this was in juncture and response to the potency of such to this unknown realm, that the venom of her cancerous wealth was being drawn and pumped forcefully into reality by the shades of her former vision and their blasphemous inquisitors. Her silver eyes flew heavenward suddenly, prematurely sanctioned from thought, witnessing with withdrawn lips and reservation as the misled initiate of a burning order summoned flame and might; shedding the battle field in her righteous intent and her mouth fell and bowed in disappointment — she's going to die young.

However, no amount of holy fire could slay to the massive swath of darkness and festering shadow that bordered the mortal aesthetic of Man, much to Ytone's increasing fascination. The result was a guttural call, a mockery of a voice that was penetrating in the reprimand, disappointed just as she was in deeper, bass intonations. Faceless and daunting, the flames ceased and fell, snuffed by whatever mana animated the creature and bequeathed both a voice and considerable fortitude despite the lack of any personal shell. Her arms coiled up, gathering the chain of her Tessen and looping the links through the slither of palm and spindly digits, each caressing metal and nails scraping the conjoined alloy as the weight distributed through her grasp. Studying; careful, deliberate processors of oculi aide, and metal—laced ears pinged with the voice of the Faceless. Ytone disregarded most banter, combat would not be achieved and victorious by sly tongue and cheek — she sniffed at that — and the conduit of simmering rage and bygone sanity was acknowledged as too careless by her slicing gaze.

No, this would require some consideration: careful, delicate theory and debasement. Magic was thus an immunity, and the oppressive bank of nefarious, inklike silt of the fallen would not grant them much reprieve. Almost against her will, Ytone's resplendent gaze slid sidelong to the one man who summoned offense to her in the wagons, she almost sneered and seethed at his visage and propelled her focus to the opponent whom he foiled against. It was barbaric, a bestial sort of madness that swung its' limbs and offense into a frenzy, a berserker to the Warrior—agenda, Ytone hedged and rose a brow curiously at the assistance of sword and shield by another — one who did not gain favour in her eyes by his cheek — and felt the sensation of a ping in her limbs.

Mayhap they are related. . .

Ytone muttered a quiet prayer, a careful wish laden in Goro tongue to see his strike true as she swept focus onto others, close enough to witness the duo charge of their gargantuan companion — a God Eater, she amends — and the woman whom brandished daggers after him. Her brow folded, acknowledging and implementing their pattern into mind, and by reflex her muscles began to wind, summoned alone by the instinct of long nights of torture. Chain fell and sounded together, links flowing apart into the lax hold as her arm churned, spun, whirling the Tessen into a similar sequence that surrendered her former target. The bladed, iron fan sung, cresting higher into pitch the faster Ytone wound up her chain and swept behind them in a follow up offense; feathering out into swift flashes of ebony, her arachnid hold then relinquished. Much like the preceding action where the chain looped around the neck of the Faceless, this too looped thrice around the sable enemy, and she grasped hold of the chain and pulled taut, hoping to increase the injury of the dual punctures of kin—daggers. Planting foot into soil and feeling the burning wrath of her muscles beneath her quivering skin, Ytone drew back, hoping to bring the gargantuan foe down further, beyond the surrendering of knees where the God Eater had struck.

Fine ebony pooled over her shoulder the further she attempted to draw back, palms aflame in the pressure of her chain weighted around the humanoid creature and inside she felt the exhilaration of something, forgetting — for a moment — that this was a test of some forlorn nature.

^{. . . will you then ask for my name when the world has gone.}

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@Raijinslayer - My boyfriend has a one-turn deck where he can literally rain down all the creature on you in one go with a certain card or something. Blue is my favourite honestly, with some Black, and it's what I'm building my own deck with, hehe.

Colourless cards are artifact cards if I'm not mistaken.

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@Raijinslayer - Hah, yes, sort of. I've only played maybe a handful of times now. My first deck, funny enough, was a Black and White deck like Evangeline's Aeon.

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@Raijinslayer - That's all well, everyone is stuck in a "blah" period right now. Personal life and matters always come first.

Anyone else working on posts right now before we enter into the next stages?

Star Heresy

Thus, allow me to clarify that this "glory" moment is purely a jest, and relates to that I haven't posted in this round yet [ yeah I'm getting to it]. I do my up-most best to acknowledge and include characters in my in-character submissions even if I am not granted the same courtesy in some circumstances. Everyone is throwing in their personal touches and flairs to the plot, coaxing the target along, and of course someone might come along to wrap it all up if the GM does not do so themselves.

No worries, I've already outlined in my post with P'siyah to include the respective hackers in the group and to take from your own post and the gathered cast entirely.

Maybe, in the future, we can collab with Rose and P'siyah - even Router - to come up with something relative to a mission or some such. That way, none feel excluded.

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@Hellis - Fantastic! So glad to see our grumpy Sentinel back into the IC. I understand the struggle of posting, Evangeline sometimes proves just as complicated. I encourage you guys to explore the manor, things are going to escalate and get pretty serious here soon, but I don't want to lull and drag the scene. So I figure in some days time I'll move us on, the next part is vital to the three SOLDIERS: Sable, Cas, and Walter. The latter which I'll be controlling.

Star Heresy

I have the outline of my post written down, just need to find a moment in my day to properly sit down and tend to the conceptual piece. Excited, personally, to get P'siyah to grasp a potential moment of glory. Her ego is going to inflate with this.
_{Just a little.}

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All right my lovelies, our grace period is coming to a finish. Admittedly, I was hoping for more posts, but I'm not going to pick and pry, my own personal matters were bleeding over into my writing, leaving me not wanting to write anything, honestly. It's maddening and emotional, leaving me kind of melancholic and depressed to the entire process. Considering also that some are tending to their own lives, and I wish with all my heart of hearts that everything goes well to you all!

Requiem will be continuing into the plot progression, the post I've given has some subtle hints to what's coming next. If you cannot formulate a post still - to those that haven't in a while - well, you might fall behind. If you are having trouble, don't hesitate to come to me, I can and will assist in any form or manner. Be this in collaboration or suggestions. There will be some time skips coming up next, along with some movements that are crucial to the mission at hand. The Mrihl Arc is beginning, so I hope you all are still with me, the pace will be conducted in a weekly process. I'm going to be posting again soon that signifies important information - so be prepared. ♥

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Mrihl — The Manor

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Evangeline’s eyes never appeared to waver on either of the hosts, the lights from the foyer eclipsing most of their respective expressions, but the Saboteur bred within the blonde SOLDIER knew a smile when she witnessed one. Each bore a carving simper, obtuse, broad in cheer and wealth of consideration concerning each of their haggard and worn spirits. However, despite all the glimmering generosity bathing each of their proffers of hospitality, she could not wither away the ascending chill coiling rigid up the extent of her spine. The Baron's grin wreathed his eyes in fine lines, crinkling edges as they narrowed with the measurement of his lips thus spread broad and almost shining. Evangeline slowly bit around the juncture of nail and thumb, pallid bone worrying into the flesh before she carefully approached the steps, following after the Baron who was chatting almost carelessly. Each of his pronunciations and almost flippant accentuation, with his hands gesturing broadly and thus droned meaninglessly into an incoherent dribble about the factual dating of the manor.

Instead, most of her attention fell onto the Guardian, his astute performance of shadowing the lower—tier Lord broadcast that he had been protecting the barony for some time; being apart of the security regiment of the barony no less. But, it bade inquires of why SOLDIER was already here, and why Magdalena and the other Commanders had failed to include that particular tidbit of importance. The situation bade an ominous quiver across her sallow skin beneath the mesh of her armour and withdrew a silent query from her lips — slightly muffled around the pinch of teeth against her broad digit.

"You've been here the longest — Luc, was it?" The edges of her shell mouth lifted into the perpetual smirk that visually marked her. "Have you noticed anything... unusual since your station here?"

Luc had flowed naturally into the wake of the Baron without an effort to thought, following the eccentric man up the steps along with the other SOLDIERS. His massive, armored hands clasped at the small of his back as he ascended, and he gave care to dividing his attention between the Baron and the newly arrived guests.

As was his habit, the Baron slipped into the realm of inane chatter, gesticulating as we made his way inside the manor. Luc kept his expression neutrally pleasant, having long ago grown used to the Baron’s pattern of speech. In truth, he found listening to the man exhausting, but the Guardian would be hard pressed to ever admit it—his duty was to protect his lordship, no matter how exasperating he might personally find the man to be.

It was a honeyed, feminine voice from just off his shoulder that stole Luc’s attention away from the prattle of the lord. Turning an inquisitive eye to the sound of his name, and the question that followed, Luc affected a kind smile as he met the dichotomous eyes of the blonde woman he had first seen upon the steps.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, uncertain of the rank of the blonde. She had not introduced herself, and so Luc thought it best to give deference to her status within the ranks of SOLDIER. “Luc, Luc Watkins. I’ve been here for six months, serving as the security officer.”

He considered her follow-up question for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly in thought. Given the directness of her inquiry, Luc pegged her as a Saboteur.

“As for unusual, I cannot say—the current state of Mrihl has been much the same since I first arrived. What I will say is that the barony has been plagued by beast attacks, and reports of SeeR operatives and sympathizers around the city.”

Luc let out a small sigh. “I’m proud to say that our security team has managed to cut the occurrence of beast attacks dramatically over the last few months. However, civilian reports of suspicious behavior, and SeeR related concerns have only increased. These reports have especially increased around the port and canal areas.”

With the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smirk of his own, Luc asked his own question. “Ma’am, should I be concerned about anything specific? I must say, though I’m proud to be among other SOLDIERS, your arrival here is equally unnerving.”

So SeeR sympathizers were here. . .

Evangeline's gnashing teeth nearly speared through the keratin of her digit flush against her mouth, nursing the pout of her swollen, quirked lips as she hummed in consent to Luc's rejoinder laced with uncertain speculations. The beasts had been tamed and pushed back, which supplied evidence that the Eagles had been the only creatures they had faced against — a small favour, she was certain. Impressed by that feature of his security regiment, Evangeline gradually lowered her gesture and mimicked his posture, hands laced together at the plantation of her spine and compressed to the small of her back.

It was a queer sensation to be referred to in speech with such a moniker, garnered by respect no doubt to her SOLDIER default, but it was.. different when compared to a Lieutenant speaking to her with an appellation configured of numbers and singular letters. She had been cemented on those matrices of similar aesthetic, and knew such of everyone in SOLDIER, but it was entirely appreciative, evident by the swell of her smirk that sliced dimples into pallid cheeks.

"Evangeline Dashelle," she supplied with a small chirp of laughter threatening to slither up over her tongue curving against the shell of her mouth, acknowledging that he hadn't requested to her name, but providing it none the less when she considered his own follow up inquiry. That's when a small shadow fell over the breadth of her bi—coloured stare, immediately sharpening into the brief, shimmering barrier to guard the whorl of emotion and secrecy she had silently sworn to back at the SOLDIER compound. She, and Cid, were the only individuals deemed and burdened with a secondary objective and while the tantalizing notion to inform Luc pressed wearily on her insides, Evangeline only responded with the dazzling simper of her eternal exuberance.

"Oh, nothing at all!" She chirped, quelling down the urge to skip ahead of him and sweep on past the Baron to explore the splendors of the manor; she had time for that later. Instead, she canted her head to one side, slicing her unique, mismatched gaze through lashes. "I will say that we're here in response to rumours about SeeR possibly setting up base near, or even in Mrihl its self. It has the council on edge, and we were dispatched here to seek out the threat and.. temper it."

Which made her ponder. "However, they didn't tell us about SOLDIER already being here. Your own station here is quite unnerving as well." Evangeline admitted, pausing briefly to glance through the pane of a window here in the manor, the town of Mrihl silent and somber. She had never been in such a place before, the spires of the Fort and the Compound being her only memories of visitation.

"It's almost peaceful here, though, hard to imagine that you've suffered much opposition."

Luc’s mouth arced into a full smile at the introduction. She had not provided a rank along with her name, so odds were that she was no higher than First Class.

“A pleasure to meet you, Evangeline,” he said, dipping his head slightly.

The effervescent quality to Evangeline’s personality was ubiquitous. He watched keenly as the blond locks of her hair bounced and swayed with each new step; the effect softening the hard lines of the armor she wore until she seemed hardly martial at all. Luc was so disarmed by Evangeline’s manner, that he almost missed her response to his own question all together.

“Setting up a base? In Mrihl?” he said at last, the words low and soft. His brow knit in concern. “That is troublesome news, indeed.”

He looked forward, his gaze wandering with thought. “I can’t say that we’ve seen any evidence of a base. At least, not anywhere where we have patrolled.”

“If there is a SeeR base,” Luc continued, as much to himself as Evangeline, “than it must be extremely well hidden, or farther out into the tundra than we’ve ventured.”

His contemplation on the matter continued a moment longer, before Evangeline added her notion about the peaceful of the city. Luc looked at her sidelong, his eyes bright with a kind of pride.

“It is a lovely place, in its own way. The ports and canals are beautiful, and the people are generally kind.”

Luc shrugged, his massive shoulders moving metallically in his armor. “Yet, as with everything, it is not all good. Hopefully with more SOLDIERS here, we can achieve peace in a more permanent sense.”

His smile was infectious, the curvature of his lips compounding her own cheer and enlightening her glamouring simper to arc wider into completion. He was a balm to the grueling battle, the traveling across the states by the bulk of the Behemoth, and the withstanding stoical oppression of the initial SOLDIER contingent she had arrived with. Be it the results of battle, or something far more sinister, it had definitely effected the overall morale.

"That's part of the reason why we are here, we can expand the limitations of the current patrol." Evangeline voiced, gesturing offhandedly towards the pane of glass that supplied their perspective of tranquility. "Once everyone has rested properly, it'd be best to gather together and configure a stratagem with your security and begin scoping the tundra." A swift sigh exchanged her smile for one of waning edges and the pout of her lip to worry in alignment with the sliver of her teeth, habitual intricacies illustrated through minuscule details and performances in lip biting and tugging on the threads of golden hair.

"Though I share your worry, and don't get me wrong, but if you haven't found evidence of their presence, I wonder if our assistance will yield anything at all." Her syllables and intonations coated with a comic, palpable dread as her meshed covered hands tore back through her hair, fanning the blonde locks over her shoulders that fell at the dip of shoulders and spine. "If SeeR doesn't want to be found.. Then they won't be. But, considering that the Council was able to facilitate to these rumours.. Then maybe they want to be found. And we." Her spindly digit found its' way onto Luc's armour, prodding against the plate of his torso. "Are the bait."

"Of course, this is mere speculation!" Evangeline rapidly rejoined her speech, shoulders shrugging exaggeratedly in the slick lattice of her armour. "Who knows what SOLDIER wants, or SeeR, or the creatures even. They probably already know we are here." Her accentuations slid carefully into an ominous, hollow drone, the unique coloratura of her oculi pinning the Sentinel into place, and the reminiscent grin of her effervescent, bubbly demeanor briefly shadowing to something... different.

Luc added a chuckle to his smile as Evangeline accentuated her words with a poke at his armored chest. "SeeR is an elusive enemy, but our shared concerns aside, I think we can succeed in our mission."

He looked back over his shoulder, towards the group of SOLDIERS that had arrived with Evangeline. Some had dispersed already, while others seemed less sure of how to proceed. They were slightly worse for the wear following their recent battle, but Luc took confidence in their poise and presence.

Returning his gaze to the pretty blonde, Luc gave a wink. "We'll succeed, all right. As bait, SeeR will surely bite off more than they can chew. I suppose we just have to trust our superiors."

"To what end could SOLDIER have for not setting us up to succeed?" As Luc gave voice to this question, a slight frown played over his pleasantly arrayed face. It was a missive that held a lot of gravity, and it portended even more, depending on one's point of view regarding SOLDIERS upper echelons. Luc forced the seed of mistrust from his mind; such thought was a dereliction of his duty. If there was cause to worry, only then would he entertain such misgivings.

Turning to Evangeline fully, he gave her a small salute. It was a gesture meant to be friendly, and a bit whimsical, given his earlier habit of addressing her as "ma'am."

"Well, I should go see to the rest of the SOLDIERS, and to the Baron. It was wonderful to have met you, Evangeline. I look forward to helping out your team in any way I can."

“Of course.” Were her parting words, easily surrendered from wide simpers glimmering and disarming, flourished with the crease of her eyes sparkling to pools of respective oils, slick and impenetrable, and bright blues like the breadth of Viera skies. Luc left her at peculiar, whimsical ebullience that failed to dissipate in the fluttering and feathering increments that made her shudder beneath the monochromatic finish of her slick armour. It almost. . . Felt. L i k e. . .

No. . .

She blinked.

The Baron had continued to lead the progression of his tour, vacating into the upper tier of the manor by the glance of her stare; sweeping after Luc and the gleam of polished armour that bespoke of station, care, and prowess. Tantalizing notions bloomed across a lobe laced in perpetual glamour and cheer as the Baron’s quip and aerated demeanor bathed the drones of the walls, prattling on about his children and their tendency to hide with new guests on the grounds.

But, Evangeline hardly paid heed to these nuances of the household, the barony was a base of operations now and would be utilized as such, this led to the consensus that she needed to scan the perimeters whilst everyone rested and came to terms with their melancholy. The SOLDIER of constant and eternal exuberance blended and melted into the countenance of solemn contemplation whilst arachnid digits swept back, and up, coiling golden wheat into swift loops until she clipped the mass to her crown. Carefully, she participated in patience that was hardly unlike her before she dug into mesh and nylon, armour thus allowing purchase of the digital pad of her finesse. She initiated in punching her sequence of letters, and numbers and implemented the up—link procedure to procure conversation and enhanced, digital frequencies to amplify the signal to formulate the proper coding that would mask the original feed to any prying eyes of binary oculi.

First on the list. . .

Evangeline had penned and quickly transmuted a message to her fellow Saboteur, under her own guise of a scintillant moniker that contradicted to his “Shadow” — “Lumi”. She requested in cryptic incantations of literary prose, giving a brief, concise ideal to the amount of channels they needed to scan and secure for proper communication that benefited them and the security regiment they were to work with. She didn’t notice him with the rest of the group, so she could only assume he had gone under his own ambition to explore the port town. Not a terrible idea, she mused, and stood — poised and immaculate to appear casual — in one of many sections of an office where she deemed a meeting proper. She knew that most of SOLDIER would need to rest after the battle, especially to those injured and for Hally and Quill to properly attend to them with the provided medical staff. However, it left her too much time to think and ponder whilst the night ascended into the earlier hours, the quiet reflection of the time meant for the wicked that required no rest, and impaled speculation and doubts at the results of the trial with the Eagles. . .

They had gained three comrades at arms, wounded and bloodied, and no information had been provided, only that they were under harsh scrutiny because of the provided circumstance and the heritage of one among them. Evangeline gnawed onto flesh and nail, brow contoured over lashes as she contemplated the erratic situation. Come dawn, she did not doubt the Lieutenants would come for the trio, and that baited the inquiry and response to whether or not they would allow them to be returned for interrogation. . . Something, ominous and laced tight with dread, prophesied to the blonde — enough to banish all cheer and grace — that they would need them. Bi-coloured gazes, sharp and honed and penned with harsh lines, slid over the walls of the office as the night crawled on.

And on.

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