Eclectic bordello is still my favourite term.
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ꁲ ꂵ ꁲ ꋊ ꂠ ꂑ ꋊ ꈼ ꋖ ꂑ ꂵ ꈼ Day 1 [Night] ꒒ ꂦ ꀯ ꁲ ꋖ ꂑ ꂦ ꋊ Lock and Key [Somerset] ꉣ ꁲ ꌅ ꋖ ꂑ ꀯ ꂑ ꉣ ꁲ ꋊ ꋖ ꌚ @WhiteAngel25 Faline @Mechromancer Dorothea @Jamesyco Torsten @Red Wizard Simbelmynë ꌚ ꂦ ꐇ ꋊ ꂠ ꋖ ꌅ ꁲ ꀯ ꀗ ♫ |  |
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Amandine simply smiled as Faline was being helpful in correcting talk about the weather, shaking the woman’s hand firmly in return. However, she couldn't help but become distracted by the arrival of more people in the room, responding dryly, “Yes, we mercenaries must discuss our questionable ethical choices of engaging in acts of violence for material gain by recounting tales.”
She examined the pair that entered, making mental notes on each of them. The first appeared to be reclusive and sheltered, and she seemed to be blushing under the hood. It was clear she was no social butterfly and was easily startled. The man who followed behind appeared to be pleasant and polite at a glance. Her nostrils flared as she caught the scent of incense. He was perhaps someone who knew about the stench of sickness, a healer of some kind.
Her gaze shifted to the side as the one known as Faline spoke on her behalf. It was evident that this was the girl who sought to be the leader of this gathering. Displaying that lone wolf tendency, superior attitude, and willingness to put herself forward. Amandine smiled inwardly, thinking, 'Yes, talk for me. Allow me to hide in plain sight.'
Her eyes then caught the attention of a field mouse, locking onto their prey like a predator. It was rather plump-looking. Perhaps it would become a tasty snack for later. Her eyes widened with curiosity as it shape-shifted into an even more delicious-looking Elvian. Her tongue discretely licked over her lips.
She allowed her gaze focus on the Elvian girl as she asked her questions, “While I cannot speak for your mother, from appearances, it seems that we have either volunteered to join an eclectic bordello, or something greater has brought diverse individuals together at the same time."
As the others were distracted by the Aftermath of their encounter with a Titan Knower, Maura noticed that they appeared to overlook a very important figure, the Traveller. She moved to where the mysterious figure had fallen, considering her actions such as perhaps attempting to give them cover, shielding the enigmatic figure, or attempt to use her binding to heal them.
Instead, she found nothing.
"You were the only one," said a semi-familiar voice from behind her. She whirled on the spot to face it, and it was Jocasta's, only... she was some years older and standing. No, she was not Jocasta. She was the girl from the picture. "The only one who thought about me."
Maura was startled, and blinked in surprise as the woman approached her. She had never actually seen the Traveller before, but she recalled Ingrid’s description - someone who looked eerily similar to Jocasta, almost uncannily so. There was no rollerchair, to her disappointment, but she was aware from Abdel that the being was a shape-shifter, so she could adopt any appearance she liked. She did wonder if certain appearances held any special meanings, recalling how the Maestros tended to have particular favourite marionettes they loved the most.
“We thought you were injured. You put your life on the line to save us when you didn’t have to, and we wanted to thank you by helping if we could.”
She knitted her fingers together as she looked at the Traveller with awe, watching her every movement, no matter how subtle, with great interest.
The Traveler smiled faintly, and perhaps she even grimaced a bit. "I would happily take the bouquet you offer me were it true but, as I'm sure you noticed..." She scratched at the back of her head. "We all very much had to." She sat beside Maura on one of the few patches of grass remaining, pulling her knees up and looping her arms about them. "It would've destroyed this whole nation, and perhaps the whole world. Because of us, it didn't." She managed an appreciative smile and, while it appeared genuine, she also appeared distracted.
Maura paused as she considered the words and reflected on her own, realizing the misunderstanding. “We meant… you stepped in when you didn’t have to.” Her voice grew softer and quieter with every word, losing confidence as she might imply further miscommunication.
Here she was, feeling out of her depth compared to the person before her. In some ways, the Traveller had a presence that she both envied and admired, both in competitive spirit and as a role model.
Her fingers continued to knit as she started to feel herself grow anxious. This was a person she had so many words she wanted to share with. She scolded herself mentally, proverbially smacking herself on her cheeks as if to spur herself into motion and snap out of it. This was an opportunity to prove her worth.
“The Knowers are the true threat, aren’t they?” The comment was a statement rather than a question, reflecting on events with insight, “And if it required ‘all’ of us, then being so divided could have put us in great danger. More than this singular encounter.”
The Traveler nodded. She smiled supportively up at Maura. "They are a true threat, but also an opportunity, I feel: one to bring us together, because you are right. We must come together. After we win - because we must - I dream that the change might prove lasting, that it might be the start of a better world." She tilted her head as she regarded the girl, so very young, so bright, and... nervous. Did she make people nervous? Sometimes it was a blessing - there were enemies to be cowed. Sometimes, however, it was not. I'd bet that they don't listen to you very much. I'd bet that they should. She resolved to see what Maura Mercador had to say. There might be hidden treasure in her words. The Traveler so loved life's unexpected discoveries.
Maura blushed as she heard the words, considering them carefully before speaking. “It would be nice if that were the case. It is true that a common enemy unites us all behind a shared cause.” She turned to look toward her, “What happens when the enemy is no more? When two squabbling neighbors put aside their differences to prevent a giant tentacle from destroying both their houses, what happens when that threat is gone? Do those neighbors decide to continue, or do their old conflicts become more relevant again? We see this with the great powers – they encourage those within the nation to focus their attention on Perrence, on Revidia. It works as long as there is an enemy, and when there is no enemy, they find or make one.”
“This is not to say you're wrong, but to say you're right. There needs to be a purpose, there needs to be a shared vision. Something for people to unite behind. It is shown that the best leaders are those who unite people, leading from the front. Yet, we often see nobles ruling who don’t know how to lead.”
She found herself biting her tongue, already imagining the faces of the others from earlier – yet another Maura speech. Wu Long rolling his eyes and walked away in that enigmatic manner of his. She paused to allow the Traveller to speak.
Instead, Enna Lantisca smiled. "That is precisely it. A common purpose must bind people together. A common enemy is easiest, certainly, but I am greatly concerned with how to maintain that if there is no threat." She shook her head. "Some among the nobility are not bad people - maybe even good people - and they certainly cannot help the station of their birth. It is as you have said, however. Far too many simply 'do' without knowing what they are doing, much less understanding why they do it aside from it being their prerogative." She furrowed her brow, glancing up at the girl again, fondly. "I say that it is nobody's given prerogative. I say, as do you, that one should aim to inspire, not to command. That is my goal." She nodded slowly, gaining confidence that here, finally, was a thoughtful young mind with whom she could share in the truest sense. "That is why I am an idea instead of a person to most. Such a leader must emerge organically, not be ordained by myself or even be myself."
“It's like on the ships, and you can tell the difference almost instantly just from the atmosphere. You have the ship captains who listen to the concerns of the crew, who are supportive and inspiring, who maintain a visible presence and are often well-liked. Then you have the others, often appointed due to rank or privilege, rarely seen on deck, barking orders, dismissing concerns, and then wondering why they struggle to retain sailors – eager to blame everyone but themselves. The first is leading, the latter is ruling. While a noble cannot choose the station of their birth, it does not mean someone of that station is automatically qualified to lead. Leadership is a skill, not one exclusive to the noble class.” She paused for a moment, considering whether to share, then decided to. “My father is of the first kind, and he tries his hardest. And as for me… we still have much to learn.”
With the latter point, she nodded. “That was the point we tried to make to Ash when he spoke of his plans for ReTan. He said he opposes tyranny, but one cannot help likening it to a customer complaining at a restaurant. It doesn't mean he would make a gourmet chef if he stepped in.” She couldn’t help but smile with some amusement at the parallel she made, but hoped the point was clear. “As for you, you see yourself as a source of inspiration, donning the guise of a humble traveller, journeying from village to village, removed and disconnected – an observer or at least an impartial party. Yet, for your sage advice and the wisdom of your travels, you recognize you must not lead, for you would have to relinquish the mantle and role you play. And like the Ópera dos Marionetes, each role is has their vital importance to the play.”
"Truly. I wonder," Enna admitted, "if I would not be tempted to rule, to command." She shook her head and rose momentarily, stretching. There were others who seemed to have taken notice of the pair - most pointedly a large reptile that was not a sirrahi. "My nameless name has spread far and wide in so many ways. Some speak of me as a menace, some as a saviour. I have little doubt that I could order some to die not for our common cause but simply for me and they would do it. That..." She trailed off. "is a frightening thing because it means that, on some level, I am failing. My message is failing." The worry was plainly evident on her face. "I am curious. What would you do? How would you handle this?"
Maura paused for thought, as it seemed the Traveller wanted her help, or at least her opinion on something. It was difficult to put herself in those worn-out shoes, but perhaps she could assist the Traveller by playing her role by offering a different perspective. “We would suggest sticking to the purpose of the role, maintaining anonymity, and placing emphasis on the 'what' rather than the 'who'. The message is what's important, not who is saying it. Instead of the narrative being 'the Traveller did this' or 'the Traveller did that', focus on the ordinary people involved. You should be the narrator of the story, not the main lead or hero. Shift the attention to the actors.” She looked toward the woman, “You've signed yourself up for a lonely existence.” offering a sad smile as she recognized the challenges involved.
She then focused back on the task, “Collaborate with and empower others. The message should be that each of us is the hero in this story. Strengthen the unity among people by showcasing their collective efforts, rather than centring on any one person. So, instead of making you the sole symbol of the movement, develop iconography that represents what it stands for. Promote these symbols through art that captures the essence of your message without featuring you – for instance, associate tyrants or malevolent figures with tentacles, symbolizing that only through collective action can these 'villains' be defeated. Promote these symbols through art and imagery, embedding them in the collective unconsciousness of the audience.”
She considered the wording of her last suggestions, “Guide and mentor individuals to take on roles that inspire and motivate others. Encourage and support them to independently spread the message. However, always remember the importance of stepping back when you feel you're becoming too central to the narrative. This will allow perceptions and expectations of you to subside, enabling the focus to remain on the message itself.”
She gazed toward her companion, hoping her words were useful.
The Traveler rose again, but crouched, reaching for Maura's hands. "And just like that, you've distilled it." She smiled thoughtfully. "Why, though?" She tilted her head for a moment and there was none of the shapeshifting that Maura had heard of from Ingrid. "Why are you so helpful? At the risk of centering myself once more, what have I done to make myself important enough to you for such consideration?" She shook her head. "I am not asking for my ego stroked. Truly, I wish to know, for you are exceptional."
Maura's mind raced as the Traveller responded positively to her help and offered a compliment. Her heart fluttered with a mixture of surprise and discomfort. She felt herself on edge, her defences kicking in, her mind whispering that this might be some kind of trick. It drew parallels to the sweet words of unsavoury traders attempting to pour honey in one's ear for a sale, only to turn rude and brash once your back is turned. Maura, whose very existence seemed to offend others, found such words to be almost unnatural.
She looked at the Traveller's hands upon her own, struggling to maintain her composure. Her voice quivered slightly as she spoke. "We've always aimed high, tried to make my mark." She forced a smile, her eyes not quite meeting the Traveller's gaze.
Feeling the warmth of the hands on hers, her thoughts continued to whirl. She questioned the sincerity of the compliment, wondering if she was being mocked or tested. Yet, there was a part of her that desperately wanted it to be genuine, yearning for those words to be true.
She continued to veil her inner turmoil with her practised facade, eventually settling on something approaching a cautious and tentative acceptance of the intention behind the compliment.
Attempting to focus on the questions she was asked, she found them both humbling and perplexing, momentarily leaving her at a loss for words. Why was the Traveller asking her why she was worthy of consideration? It felt like an unexpected role reversal.
Clearing her throat, she contemplated her response. "Well," she began, her tone a touch more earnest than before, "We're just trying to contribute in our own way. There's something a friend once said – that we should try to be the change we want to see. Even if we're still trying to find our place in that. It's why we push ourselves so hard and set such idealistic targets. Even if they seem out of reach, we can always look back and see how far we've come. It's always further than we would have been otherwise."
With that, the Traveler nodded. The large beast had approached closely. "Then it appears that we have much to offer each other." She released the girl. "We shall speak again, at length, in earnest. For now, know that I consider you a friend worth keeping. I believe that our interests align and that..." She trailed off and offered up one final smile. "It is good to have friends, is it not?"
Maura smiled, giving the hands a gentle squeeze before the Traveller released her own. "Sincere friendship is perhaps the greatest gift someone can offer. If that is your intention, then we would be genuinely interested in accepting and reciprocating in kind."
She felt a bit star struck, realizing that her attempt to assist the Traveller in what she perceived as their hour of need had resulted in her forming a friendship with them. "Abdel informed me about the letters you exchanged with Ash, so don't feel the need to be a stranger when it comes to communicating with me if the need arises."
Enna smiled. "Speak of the devil..." she replied with a grin. Abdel was rushing after his animals, but it was also, clearly, an excuse to speak with the Traveler. "I... just may have your address," she admitted with a wink. "Dare I say this is only the start of a long and mutually beneficial partnership."
Maura and Kaureerah - who definitely aren't fighters, find themselves up against Lady Matsuhara, who seems to have been revived by forces unknown. How can this be? Do they stand a chance? The unusually large chicken on Maura's lap lets out a cluck.
Kaureerah's eyes were wide and bugged out. "Yoo..." She trailed off, taking an unsteady step back. "Yoo were dead." It was her and Maura here at the dinner table, with Lady Matsuhara. As everyone else had rushed off to go pound each other in senseless violence, the Nikanese tyrant had stood, grabbed her own head, and twisted it back around until it sat normally on her shoulders. She glared at the two lesser mages coldly. "Wouldn't be the first time." Then, she shrugged, demeanour shifting
Kaureerah shot a glance at Maura, and then another about for any help. The two of them were alone against this monster, and she was no fighter. She knew it. She was no fighter.
Maura tilted her head to the side as she positioned herself slightly in front of Kaureerah, protectively. “This is the second we know about, but even an Arslan has nine lives.” She sat there casually, petting the chicken on her lap, her fingers stroking along its feathers as if it were a cat.
“Listen,” she directed her gaze toward Lady Matsuhara, “You've been brought into a trap, and the combined strength in this room doesn’t even match what the twins are keeping behind the scenes.” She sighed and looked to the side, “You've already died twice in the last 24 hours. We don’t even know how many times you can do that, but you should seriously consider trying to get out of here and get back to Nikan. A meaningless death here wouldn’t further your aims and that of your nation.”
She refocused her gaze, “Kaureerah and me are not here to fight, and we're not going to stop you if you run. Even if you choose to fight us, we are simply a distraction, a delay while those over there finish up their fights and come for you next. You achieve nothing as a result.” She reached out with her hand as if to offer a handshake from a distance, “We are not the strongest, but we are the smartest. So take my advice and flee while you can.”
"You know, you're not wrong," the black-cloaked woman admitted. "Though there's a great deal of information that you lack, of course." She shrugged. "The truth? I'm not in this to overthrow a government. If it happens, so much the better. My nation is safe from their relentless predation for the time being. If it doesn't then I'm in this for myself, and I'm gonna get mine." She made a move towards Kaureerah, but the eeaiko was quicker. She whipped out her lute and slid her fingers down the strings, creating a most unpleasant sound. "Fauck auf, beetch."
The horrible wail hit Lady Matsuhara and forced her to cover hear ears, but a counterfrequency came out to neutralize it. "And that's why I want you, girl." She shook her head. "You have no idea the power you're tapping into, but I do." She turned to Maura with an offer. "What will it take for you to give up your tool here and help me secure her? I can give you much, and I happily will."
Maura felt her eyes widen at the request, surprised, and shook her head in disappointment as she moved her hand to reassuringly place it on her friend. “Kaureerah is not up for trade; she is priceless.”
She smiled for a moment, “Besides, her friendship is freely given only to those worthy, and you have been found wanting.”
She moved her hands together as she began to cast binding magic, the air growing thick with mist that billowed out. The precipitation left thick water droplets on everything it touched. The ground became wet, and the droplets began to fall like rain within the mist.
"So be it," Lady Matsuhara grated. "And here I thought you were open to offers. I could, with a snap of my fingers, have the holds of your entire fleet of ships filled with ten-kanmi." She shook her head.
A lance of ice shot out at Kaureerah, looking to skewer her through the midsection. The ice melts in midair and resolidifies into a dozen razor sharp shards. They come barrelling back at the Nikanese.
Lady Matsuhara melts them and disperses them into the damp air.
Kaureerah tries again with a chemical attack, looking to create an illusion.
Chicken releases its first Primoridal Cluck. It grows. It is now rather heavy on Maura's lap.
Lady Matsuhara rubs at her temple and dispels the sophomoric effort.
She sees absolutely no threat in Maura and continues to toy with the increasingly anxious Kaureerah.
She attempts an internal chemical spell on the Eeaiko.
Kaureerah is wise to the attempt at mind control, however, and she will not be this bitch's plaything. She uses her attacker's concentration against her and tries an internal chemical attack of her own, dropping Lady Matsuhara to her knees. Kaureerah's heart pounds and her breathing quickens, but the Nikanese rises after a moment. "Nice trick girl." She shakes her head. "But the gap between us is too great. Paragons know you have potential. If you come with me peaceably, I swear I won't hurt you."
Kaureerah tilts her head to one side. "Yoo knoow, yoo doon't reelly scere mee es mauch es yoo used too," she replies, a note of tentative confidence in her voice. "Eye doon't thenk Eye weell."
Maura shook her head, “We are not Merchants of Death like Ingrid over there,” she pointed over to the large Eskandr woman fighting a dragon. "She has connections through the Sovereign Pact which has petitioned the Shogun this morning."
“You have one final chance.” She moved her hand into her robe and pulled out a parchment, which she flashed toward Lady Matsuhara. While the writing was a blur, it looked very official with the seal of the shogun on it, like one of many present in the embassy. Then, she placed it on her lap after gently brushing the chicken off it with a few pets. “This is a writ for your execution, written by the Shogun himself. Your involvement here has been disavowed, and you are to return to Nikan at once, or be counted as an enemy of the state. There is a bounty for proof of death if you fail to comply. Ingrid is looking to cash in, after she skinned herself a dragon.”
Maura used her time to distract Lady Matsuhara, employing her magnetic magic to begin warping the iron around them. Spikes of iron emerged like caltrops, converging from every direction, as if Lady Matsuhara was being enclosed within an iron maiden. The caltrops dug into her flesh, inflicting debuffs.
She was preparing a sneering comment, so intent on her riposte, that Lady Matsuhara didn't see the spikes coming.
They dug into her and she let out a scream. "Why you vicious little bitch!" she screamed.
"You don't have to be so prickly."
Kaureerah, despite herself, let out a snort of mirth out from her nose. "Yoo tauk e laut," she said. "Aut oof yoor ess. Taim too breeng thes dreem too laif."
The Chicken issues its second Primordial Cluck. An aura of misfortune begins to surround the Chicken, though it doesn't grow any larger.
Maura looked at Kaureerah with a questioning glance, then at Lady Matsuhara, watching as began to start shifting and bending. She blinked for a moment, then a devious smile spread across her face as she began to assist the process. She extended her hands as if manipulating a marionette, imaginary strings attached to Lady Matsuhara's joints. With a forceful clenching motion, she compelled her to bend backwards in an unnaturally sickly manner. Lady Matsuhara may have hailed from the land of the rising sun, but now she was entering a realm where even the sun's light could not penetrate. After a rectal cranial inversion, Lady Matsuhara had transformed into her final form.
She was doing it with intention now, using this type of magic that somehow worked outside of all of the rules that she had learned as girl and was now learning in greater earnest as a woman grown. She channelled the queer combination of both her mirth and her fury at this woman who had so mocked, assaulted, and belittled her and her newfound but very true friend. Your head belongs straight up your ass, She told herself, feeling the idea manifest. Reality warped to make it so: things that should not have made any sense - that should not have been able to happen - happened all the same.
That mocking face contorted in shock, pain, and fury. Lady Matsuhara bent around in a sickening shape as her head shoved itself up between her buttocks. Kaureerah's eyes widened and she let out a gasp. She wouldn't even wish such a thing on her worst... well, actually, she might. She wasn't above a little bit of vindictiveness.
“Did she always look like that?” She gazed up toward Kaureerah. the eeaiko grinned. "Feegooreteevely," she decided, "Yes. Nauw her eppeerence metches her weenneeng persaunelety."
From the Nikanese came only stumbling and muffled screams. She collapsed in a heap, writhing weakly.
Kaureerah reached a hand out for Maura to take it, smiling. Maura shuddered a moment, "Not even a mother can kiss that face now." She took Kaureerah's offered hand, and squeezed it three times. Kaureerah squeezed back four. She stuck her tongue out. "Eye lauve yoo moore."
Maura pondered, “She must have got help in our last fight. For someone so small, she definitely spoke big.”
She strode confidently forward, Maura beside her. "Yoo aur auwful," She stated matter-of-factly to her downed enemy. "Baut mai good frend ees raight." She shook her head. "Yoo er naut thet straung. Yoo hed help. Whoo ees et? Tell aus end wee maight spere yoor worthless laife." She leaned in and whispered in Maura's ear. "Eye heve never keeled saumoone befoore end Eye doon't entend too saurt nauw. Deed thet saund eenteemedeteeng?"
Chicken releases its third Primordial Cluck. It is a pleasant noise and not much of anything happens.
Maura pondered; she hadn't killed someone before, but she had heard people try to be intimidating. "She won't listen to that. Her head is too far up her own arse," she shook her head from side to side, "She'll probably respond with something dumb like 'You don't scare me, girl' or 'I'd rather die than tell you' – something that sounds really tough."
She leaned down toward Lady Matsuhara, "At this point, we think you'd rather die, wouldn't you?" She gazed down at her, then up at Kaureerah. "Remember, if she dies, she can return to normal, right?" Her gaze returned to the woman, "If she doesn't talk, we'll spare her. We can take her to the embassy and make a spectacle of it. By morning, all of Nikan will know her fate. She'll have to beg them to end her life. The humiliation would be absolutely unbearable, to the point where she might want to erase her own existence. Otherwise, wherever she goes, there will be whispers. People will talk – always talking. Random items might start turning up, like peaches. Maybe someone will ask if she's been smelling the roses lately. The taunts will be endless. No one will ever look at her the same way again. The paranoia would be constant. She would become a national disgrace for eternity; history books will depict Lady Matsuhara alongside a picture of her head up her own arse."
Lady Matsuhara squealed and then… A stony spike thrust up from beneath Maura. Kaureerah, alarmed, was ready to jump in and help her friend, but it proved utterly unnecessary.
Maura shook her head side-by-side, "She really is a tiny person. We keep trying to help her out, but she doesn't listen?"
"Well, aunce egain, Eye soogest wee meke her eppeerence feet her persoonaulety" She took a deep breath and focused, trying to manifest a tiny Lady Matsuhara into reality.
“In Torragon, we have a saying. You can lead cattle to water, but you cannot make them drink. There is no helping her now.”
Lady Matsuhara pounded the ground,a s if in surrender, as if saying 'uncle'. It was too late, however. Her body crumpled and twisted and shrunk. She continued shrinking, breaking all known laws of science and nature. Her face folded out from between her buttocks, but she was no threat any longer.
Chicken releases its fourth Primordial Cluck. It grows very slightly.
"Best frend?" Kaureerah prodded sweetly.
"Best Friends" she smiled warmly as she nodded. Her hand reached out to stroke the chicken's head gently.
"Eye theenk aur leetle aevean frend coold use saum food." She reached down to pick the tiny tyrant up.
"Wait, wait!" a tinny voice wailed. Kaureerah could feel her flailing. It didn't do much more than sting. "It was him! It was the Progenitor! He's my boss! I work for him. He helped me!"
Kaureerah glanced over at Maura. "Wait e secaund. Doon't yooo woork faur te emperoor auf Neeken?"
Maura distracted for a moment, coo'd and doted on the chicken. "Now, who's been a good chicken? Would you like to have the wiggly worm?" She encouraged her feathered friend in the direction of Kaureerah, who held Lady Matsuhara dangling in her grasp.
"I do. I'm sorry! I do. They're one in the same." Kaureerah grinned massively. Wickedly. She reached out towards Maura. They fist bumped.
This had massive implications, of course. For now, there was only a decision to make. To kill, or not to kill this person who'd terrorized them both? Who'd insulted, belittled, attacked, and tried to kill them.
Chicken released its fifth Primordial Cluck. It shrank and intensified. Growing cross.
Maura paused then began to smile, “Kaureerah, let’s be the bigger people here. She has told us what we wanted to know. Put her down, and let her go. Her fate is now in Dami’s hands.”
Kaureerah smirked. "Whaut e cepeetel eyedea," she replied, letting the tiny woman fall to the ground. "True, eempaurteal joosteece." Chicken darted forward eagerly, its feathers black, its eyes glowing with eager violence. In any event, the two young women did not see what happened next. It was, as Maura had said, up to Dami.
They turned and headed away.
Will have to push the post to tomorrow, today was busy for me. Last chance to post before things advance. @Troubleshoot@shagranoz
Feel free to implement a deadline, such as requirement for weekly posts. If people end up falling behind then that is their responsibility. As the expression goes "The show must go on!".
I know the exact reply I want to make when everyone turns up now...!
Event: Final Chapter: Last Chances | Location: Mandelein, Kerremand
“Myn Spratz-Eendje” Taleja welcomed Dory into her arms, stroking her gloved hand through the girl’s hair to soothe her, “It is goed, do bist no by my. Cry en sprek as klear.” She allowed the girl to cry against her shoulder, patting and stroking her back in a comforting manner. She seemed to have lost momentum with the conversation as Jamboi continued to talk with the Conde.
Ashon moved toward the dragon, who continued to respond in a jovial manner, eyeing him up suspiciously before breaking out into a smile. “Tarlon? Ta, Tyrel’yrash’dichora luush’elar.” He grinned widely in a mischievous manner, pointing to himself with his thumb, “Nax Jamboi’Ismax’Hyparii,” as he started pointing toward the others, beginning with the three Yasoi, “Casii'fyret'alan, Ymiico'luun'yoru, Cal'tuuro'jaros…” He paused for a moment, then turned to the yanii’s, “Taleja, Kaspar, Cristophe, Baudile, and Dorothea…” he paused again, “Dorothea, where Ismet'ych' lahiin'dichora, our resident Tarlonese?”
Dory looked like she was going to respond, but words failed her, and Taleja shook her head at him, “Ismet and Manfred are no longer present.” She felt Dory clutch tighter, surprised by how tactile she was being. Such a tight sensation was very alien.
Jamboi’s goofy expression dropped, frustration replacing it with a pained expression, as he moved over to take the key from the Conde. “Tell Tyrel and Miret that… their cousin has departed.” He looked away as he took the key with him, distracting himself with a different task as an excuse to walk away from the others.
“He thinks too much with his heart. We appreciate your expertise in this matter. You have stated you shall abide by the decision of the townsfolk.” Taleja lowered her head before the creature in a sign of respect, “We must now grieve the loss of our friends,” her hand resting on Dory’s head. “and lovers.”
◈ Day 1 ◈ Time: Night ◈ Weather: Cloudy, Drizzle ◈ Location: Main Ballroom ◈
Participants: Anastasia Arslan @Ti, Raffaella Struna @Emeth , Everyone Present.
The haunting melody swelled, its eerie notes wrapping around the elegant ballroom like a chilling mist. Ana's graceful dance steps faltered, her feet coming to an abrupt halt on the polished floor. A shiver raced down her spine, prickling her skin, as the familiar and dreaded chorus reached her ears once more.
Time seemed to hang suspended as she stood there, her gaze fixated on nothingness, her heart pounding in her chest. The joyful laughter and the lilting music of the ball seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the ominous resonance of that haunting song.
Her fingers, adorned with delicate jewellery, clenched into tight fists, her knuckles turning white under the strain. Her breath caught in her throat, the air heavy with the weight of memories she had tried so hard to bury. It was a sound that had plagued her dreams for years, a sound that now echoed through the grandeur of the ballroom, a cruel reminder of a past she could never escape.
As the chorus reached a haunting crescendo, Ana's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, her eyes unseeing, lost in the haunting memories that the song evoked. The surrounding ballroom seemed to blur, the elegant surroundings fading into a hazy backdrop as the past collided with the present.
"Momma, it's so pretty!" The young girl's innocent voice chimed like a bell, her small hand tugging at her mother's dress to gain her attention. With a tender smile, her mother glanced down at her, following the direction of her tiny finger pointed toward the sky. The harmonious resonance of the Ni-Seraphi's celestial chorus grew louder, a symphony of impending doom.
"Magnus! They're coming, Ni-Seraphi!" Panic surged through her mother's voice as she rushed back into the house, abandoning the child to her awe-filled gaze at the majestic winged beings above. The girl stood alone, a tiny silhouette against the impending shadow that swept over Herbeumont, her eyes wide as she witnessed the otherworldly forms of the Ni-Seraphi gracing the heavens.
The house erupted into a chaotic frenzy as her parents hurriedly gathered belongings, their lives distilled into hastily packed bags. Ornaments fell and shattered, mirroring the shattering of the island's serenity. Herbeumont, once a haven of tranquillity with its fruitful orchards and rustic charm, was now plunged into a chilling chaos, its peaceful aura shattered by the eerie resonance of the Ni-Seraphi's haunting song.
"We must reach the port! The airships may already be departing! Maëlle, we can't afford to delay, your grandmother would rather you live!" Urgency underscored her father's words, his grip on her mother firm as he dragged her away from their home. With one last look, the girl saw her childhood haven reduced to mere rubble and memories, their entire existence crammed into the small bundles they carried.
"Mama, look! They're at the Mullins' farm!" The little girl's voice quivered, a mixture of awe and terror threading through her words. The great being descended upon the Mullins' farmhouse, its song a deafening crescendo that tore the thatch from the roof as if it were mere paper. The child's small hands instinctively covered her ears, eyes wide with a mixture of fascination and horror.
The Ni-Seraphi's gaping maw opened, a portal to oblivion, and the Mullins family, her friend and all, were swept into its ravenous vortex. Time seemed to stretch as the child watched in stunned disbelief, the image of her best friend's anguished face etching into her memory, forever mingling beauty and terror.
"Grab Ana, there's no time!" Her mother's frantic voice broke through the shock, and before she knew it, strong arms enveloped her, pulling her away from the consuming abyss. The girl stumbled, her gaze still fixed on the unfathomable horror before her. She was torn away, her heart and mind forever scarred by the gruesome tableau of innocence devoured.
A deafening explosion shattered the air, its force slamming Ana to the ground. In an instant, the cacophony of chaos engulfed her senses—shards of glass rained down like deadly confetti, ornate decorations crumbled to the floor in a symphony of destruction, and the world seemed to tremble beneath the weight of the explosion's impact. Ana's mind reeled as the echoes of that haunting night collided with the present, a maelstrom of emotions threatening to consume her.
Dazed and disoriented, Ana's fingers clawed at the cold ground beneath her, her breath ragged as she struggled to make sense of the surrounding turmoil. And then, as if pulled from the very depths of her psyche, her attention snapped to a young face, a first-year student caught in the midst of the chaos. The girl's eyes wide with fear mirrored the terror of another, a memory etched in Ana's mind like a scar.
"No... not again..." Ana's thoughts spiralled into a suffocating abyss, the images of that dreaded night resurfacing with cruel clarity. She could almost hear the screams, see the gaping maw of the Ni-Seraphi, and the agonizing helplessness of her past self.
But amidst the tempest of her emotions, a spark of determination ignited within her—a resolve to rise above the weight of her own trauma. "Ana, snap out of it," she berated herself silently, her voice a fierce whisper in the tempest of her mind. Clenching her trembling fists, Ana shut her eyes tightly, her focus turning inward.
As if drawing from a wellspring of inner strength, she felt it—a rush of warmth, an inferno of resolve surging through her veins. Her body seemed to radiate with a golden glow, the flames of her gift flickering to life around her like a protective halo. This was her power, her ability to heal and to ignite courage within herself.
Pushing herself up from the floor, Ana's gaze locked onto the frightened first-year, her heart aching with empathy. She couldn't let another innocent life be torn away by the horrors that haunted her. With newfound determination burning bright, she moved towards Raffaella, her touch gentle yet resolute as she reached out to grasp the girl's trembling hand.
"Listen to me," Ana's voice was steady, her eyes meeting Raffaella's with unwavering intensity. "You are safe. We are going to get you to a shelter, away from this danger. Hold onto my hand, and stay close. We will get through this, together."
With Raffaella by her side, Ana turned her gaze to the chaos unfolding around her—the shattered remnants of the ballroom, the disoriented students, the palpable fear in the air. Drawing a deep breath, Ana's golden flames blazed brighter, infusing her with a newfound strength as she stepped forward, her voice ringing out above the chaos.
"Listen up, everyone!" Her words cut through the turmoil like a clarion call. "Our priority is the safety of every individual here. First years and civilians, make your way to the shelters. Combat-trained individuals, form defensive groups around them. Auxiliary roles, establish checkpoints for Reconnaissance, Restoration, and Retreat. We leave no one behind."
With the weight of her past and the urgency of the present driving her, Ana's gaze swept over the gathered students, her eyes fierce with determination. Amidst the chaos, her voice resonated with a commanding authority, Ana was ready to fight, to protect, and to lead.
Event: Final Chapter: Last Chances | Location: Mandelein, Kerremand
Ashon and Taleja looked at each other, clearly having opposite views on the debate. Now, they were being greeted by a Royal Sand Wyrm by the name of Conde Juan Antonio Mendoza-Cardenas, who was dressed in fancy clothes and a wig. Taleja placed a hand on her face and muttered, “What's next, Skuggvars wearing monocles?”
She waved her hand as she sought clarification, “What is an Original and what makes Father Jacques so special?”
Ashon gazed at the creature and scratched his head, saying, “An offer of sanctuary by a Royal Sand Wyrm, it’s an intriguing proposition.” He considered whether he might be asleep or not, pinching Cal to make sure. “Tantas Empire? Huh, the Tarlonese are certainly adopting Yanii titles now.”
He looked at the others and continued, “It's true, the Quentic church would be the least of their worries there. You just need to be careful of the wildlife, the trees, and the Tarlonese Yasoi themselves.” Spinning on the spot to face the Conde, he asked, “Those smugglers have been to Tarlon recently. What guarantees of protection can you offer these villagers, and what's your involvement in this operation?”
Taleja raised an eyebrow as Ashon appeared critical of the proposal, “The merit of a remote location away from human settlements could offer solace and safety to those afflicted. Given their strength, they should be able to defend themselves.” She offered a hand to the Royal Sand Wyrm, “He is offering protection as well.”
She reminded the group, “Ultimately, if we are going with sparing these villagers, we are morally responsible for their actions. If they go to Tarlon, they are no longer our problem. We are absolved from the matter, and it becomes his problem.”
Ashon frowned at the response. “While the idea of this refuge is appealing, is it really in the best interest of everyone involved?” He grabbed one of the Mandelein purple bananas and pointed it at Taleja. “What does our Conde want in return? Are we simply putting them in another situation by replacing the smugglers with the Conde and his Emperor? What if Tarlon gets grand ideas and begins attacking the human colonies around Tarlon? Have we just conscripted these good folks into their army and the resulting deaths?”
Taleja paused as she bit her lip. The man who called himself a Monkey King did raise a point, but it was not his choice to make. “Then why don’t you ask Father Jacques to consider the proposal and allow the people of Mandelein to make that decision for themselves? Perhaps he may want to trade one prison for another. A gilded cage is a preferred alternative to death.”
Ashon snorted at the comment about cages, “Spoken by someone who has no experience of such a thing.” He gestured to the others, “We should seek to understand the Conde’s intentions, the nature of this sanctuary, and the implications of this decision. We could be walking in blind.”
Taleja examined her pocket-watch, closed it, and placed it in her pocket. “As much as we would all love a holiday to Tarlon, there isn't time to delay this decision. If you truly want to prioritize the well-being of those involved, this solution can be both practical and sustainable on paper.”
Her green eyes gazed toward the Sand Wyrm. “Baudile, wake your brother and allow him to listen to the Conde’s answers. It is a decision he should be making. He should not be denied the opportunity when the alternative is certain death.”
Ashon perched himself on a branch, peeled the banana, and took a bite as he waited for the Conde’s responses to the questions and points they both made, though he sighed reluctantly at Taleja’s suggestion. “We have agreed to spare him. Let’s all listen to the Conde.”
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