Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

<Snipped quote by Dark Cloud>

Indeed! Even if, per my most recent post, I can't write it worth a damn lol.



Can't write it worth a damn? Don't be silly, your post was really good. It was a nice idea, well written and very in character for Adam xD
Lmao, thanks @Dark Cloud xD

Your post was amazing too. Stellar work, sham!


"...And he here we are, in another world. And it could be over yet again. We should be grateful to whatever gods are out there, for 'the now.' Regardless of past or future. Our shoulders are weightless. We are free. Free to not hold back. Every moment, every breath... it's a gift. A bonus. Why not live for the present?"

"Here's to; living in the moment."
A Silver Tongued Devil


"To; living in the moment."
A Gullible Fool


Clink.


It was the feeling of his hair that had done it. When she'd found Barracker and Zell injured. When she'd gone to Zell and attempted to locate the source of his bleeding head. That unique sensation of her fingers running through his hair. That had set all of this off. Alison's description of her Italian restaurant experience - this had merely spurred on MacKensie's tormenting memories.

To throw her honour so easily by the wayside showed a distinct weakness of character, on her part, but she still blamed Zell for almost everything. His unabashed absence of morality and decorum was apparent from the moment the group had all met. He was far more cunning than he liked to let on, and shameless in his pursuit of anything he desired, regardless of the consequences, riding on roguish charm the whole way.

Oh, how she hated him. If it wasn't for the task set before Second Chance, she would never speak to him again.

Knock knock.

She jumped as her head snapped to her bedroom door, so engrossed in her own thoughts that her senses, which had been heightened by her Source Crystal, did not even pick up someone approaching.

It must be Emma, MacKensie assumed, thinking that the maid maybe used this early afternoon time to clean up.

She got up and on the handful of steps to the door, took a sharp breath and straightened her face, then smiled before opening the door to see the last person in the world she wanted to, at this moment. Her smile soon faded.

"Zell." She couldn't completely mute the suprise in her tone, but civility managed to keep all other involuntary feelings from her face.

"Mac, can we talk?"

"Ye- No!" Well, civility managed to delay the outpour for a short second. "No. We cannot talk."

"Please."

She tried to shut the door but he stopped her attempt with his foot. She noted it with anger and looked back up at him, frustratedly with nought else to do but deal with the problem in front of her. "Talking is what got us into this mess. Leave me be. You've done enough."

"Come on, doll. We can't go on like this. It's killin me - not being able to have a laugh with you, like normal." It took effort to stay angry as she felt his words. She too missed how it was before - before romantic feelings had formed something of a messy love triangle between her, Zell and Adam. Definitely before the thrice-cursed 'non-date' of a few nights past. "The banter between you, me n James is half of what keeps me sane in this shitshow."

That smile. That stupid one-sided grin of his. She hated it. Those lips. She hated them. Her brow furrowed weirdly as indignation and anger was mixed with other feelings, and she fought to control her gaze and fix it on his but could not stop peeking at his lips. Why was his foot in the door!?! Why was he here at the worst possible time? He really was a devil. An evil tempter and seducer. She was innocent - doing so well in life until that plane crashed and left her stuck with this horrible man. Why; she would not even give someone like him the time of day, in her last life. He wouldn't have had a chance to corrupt her sensibilities. Curse that plane. Curse him. Curse everything!

"Everyone's gone. Let's just talk."

Gone? she thought, her eyes still having to be constantly pulled up to meet his. She bit the inside of her mouth. Then she looked both ways down the hallway, saw the coast was clear and gave in.

MacKensie grabbed a handful of Zell's shirt, near the collar, yanked him into her room and slammed the door shut.
We're rooting for you @AvaP xD


MacKensie enjoyed the flavours and the gentle burn of the stew as she listened to Alison speak on her favourite foods. While she did not have much experience with airport food, she had been to at least half a dozen famous restaurants across the world. Italy had it's fair share of high-end dining establishments, however what specifically came to mind when Alison mentioned the country was cities like Rome and Venice - famously romantic locations. And there was only one experience that MacKensie could relate to such a fine-dining tale and that was the very recent evening at The Nightingale.

Butterflies. Mentally, she tried to shoo away the memories and she forced herself to actively listen to the American woman, letting out a light chuckle as Alison recalled wearing a dress for the first time in years.

"...Everything about it..." Alison went on. MacKensie remembered how Zell had complimented her earrings. How it made her feel.

"...the food..." How he'd put his knife and fork down and randomly ambushed her with the most poetic and romantic soliloquy anyone had ever said to her.

"...the atmosphere..." How she'd taught him a basic version of the Waltz that she'd learned when she was ten. How that had been more enjoyable than the most advanced ballroom dance, with the most advanced partner, in the most opulant social event she'd ever been to.

"...it was... "

Magical. Alison briefly went silent and MacKensie's gaze fell to the table as she sank into her own thoughts. Involuntarily, her eyes went across the table to find Zell looking back and she was wrenched back to reality with alarm, turning her head away immediately. Fortunately, at the same time, Alison spoke again so the attention was on her and it was unlikely anyone noticed MacKensie's suspcious behaviour.

That evening was nothing to remember fondly. It was not magical. It was lies - One lie and empty platitude after another. One big moral failing. She hated Zell for it. She hated that it had to be him that she'd bumped into at the blacksmith, of all people. She would never forgive him. She may not ever forgive herself. I have forgotten the face of my father.

She felt sick.

After looking forward, all morning, to this lunch date, MacKensie now found herself glad when it was over. Outwardly, she maintained good form and was cordial throughout the goodbyes. When Zell was at the bar, MacKensie wished everyone a good afternoon and made a sharp getaway to her room, facepalming the moment she was far enough up the stairs to be out of sight.

She had worked so hard to forget that night and restore a level head, so that she might actually concentrate on the priority that was the imminent threat of destruction. And she had been doing so well until today. But now the wounds were fully reopened.

I hate him. She went in her room and sat on the bed, burying her head in her hands. I hate him so much.
Done. My apologies for any spelling or grammar misakes in advance lol xD


MacKensie was affable and high in energy throughout the lunch. She was so glad that Alison was getting along with everyone and that her friends seemed to like the Rogue as much as she did. When Frederick looked to her for back-up about his new recipe, the frenchwoman was quick to testify to the quality of the spicy stew their host had come up with.

"Oh, it might be the best stew I have ever had in my life," she attested. "I have no doubt Frederick would be awarded a Michelin star for this one." The owner of The Mended Drum was oblivious to the meaning of 'Michelin stars' but, nevertheless, was looked proud to hear to MacKensie's words. "I would love to have that again, Frederick, thank you."

It was obvious by the atmosphere that everyone was glad to be all together again around a single table. This moment in the company of eachother was a microcosm of the comfort they all felt by sticking together through thick and thin. Their was a power in their friendship and MacKensie felt an aura of invincibility around them. Together they could overcome anything, this much had been proven. The ogres and skeletons, the direwolves, Zigmund, the wraiths, the cult... they had vanquished everything that stood in their way. In spite of the impossible task ahead of them, for once, right now - this one moment in time - MacKensie did not fear the future battle. She drew confidence not from herself but her amazing group of friends. The smarts of James. The toughness of Zell. The skill of Adam. The unrelenting force that was Fenna. The literal 'never say die' attitude of Clive. The power of Barracker. The projection of undoubtable confidence of Alison.

They could save Valhiem. She believed.

"I will never forget how my friend, Juliet," MacKensie told everyone, something that was said prompting her to chime in. "How she and I, became so close. I always knew her from my ballet class, as a youth, but we were not friends, per say. Then, I happened to see her when on a family holiday, in Aspen. Such a coincidence. The absent-minded girl had managed to lose her purse, her phone and her cards all at once." MacKensie laughed as she was immersed in the memory. "It was not the first time she had lost all of her things, and she was so frightened that she would be in a world of trouble. We spent all day learning how to contact her cell hone company and bank so that we could cancel her cards and SIM. It was quite the task, we had no clue what we were doing. But we managed it." The frenchwoman shook her head wistfully. "She would never have managed alone. We were fast friends ever since."

Her story triggered a comment from Zell. "Ha, that reminds of this one random time that I had to save my dumbass mate. The idiot had fallen down a well."

MacKensie laughed, bemused at the absurd notion of Zell trying to drag his friend out of an actual well. And I thought Juliet was a little dopey at times, she thought.

James almost choked on his drink in reaction. "Oh yeah? Sounds like the kind of idiot that would steal a horse," the Cleric replied.

MacKensie laughed, completely oblivious to the private joke being shared between her two friends. Once Clive and Zell went to the bar for a second round of drinks, and the food was served, MacKensie tucked in to her stew with her spoon. Bliss, was her review of the first mouthful. James turned the conversation onto the group's favourite food, with Barracker going first. MacKensie, cognizant of including Alison in the conversation, smiled at Barracker's choice before redirecting the question to the Rogue.

"What about you, Alison? I am sure you have sampled many a cuisine in your time," she remarked, rembering how easily Alison had pin-pointed almost down to the city. The older woman was no-doubt well-travelled. MacKensie was interested to know what her take on food would be and if there would be any stories to go with it.
@xenonI'm going out for a meal but I will post late tonight, even if I have to post drunk lol. Toodles xD


Belle Trydant, MacKensie's mother, was everything a noblewoman should be. Although the aristocracy no longer existed in modern, liberal society, those of the upper class who could trace their bloodline back to the appropriate place - and who had the family fortunes and heirlooms to show for it - still, amongst themselves, recognised and practiced the way of life that was of the nobility of yesteryear. And Belle was a perfect representation of this. She was strong in her own way - in the ways of a traditional woman of class. A staunch supporter of her husband, doing all the little things in the background to make sure that he could go out into the world and conquer his lofty ambitions, shining as bright as he possibly could. He was the sun and she was the moon. Belle could be feeling ill or feeling down, yet still be able to tend to the emotional needs of her children and husband, and still find the energy to put on a brave face, go out into the world and conduct her charity events or formal social occasions with all the elegance and charm she was known for. MacKensie did indeed admire her mother. But, although there were a fair few adult figures in MacKensie's life worthy of respect and recognition, it was Sir Axel Trydant who was MacKensie's sole role model.

It might be that everything about MacKensie could be, in some way, sourced back to the desire to make her father proud. Her discipline, work ethic, self-control, spotless reputation, ambition... Axel Trydant didn't hand out praise easily, but MacKensie was not deprived of his approval. He let her know that she was a credit to the family name and this only made her more fierce in her determination to be the perfect daughter. The beauty and decorum of her mother, with the fire and backbone of her father, and a little something unique of her own to cap it all off. But since being whisked away to another world, MacKensie had been forced to grapple with the fact that she was not perfect. Far from it, in fact. Mytheria had tested her character, her limits and her courage. She had learned a lot about herself - grown in this chaotic but short space of time - but perhaps the most unexpected trait she had uncovered within herself, was that she was prone to hero-worship.

First, Fenna Postma. Right from the beginning, Fenna had attracted the admiration of MacKensie. The dutchwoman was a picture of feminine strength and beauty. Proud and firm, yet at the same time, humble and gentle. In spite of suffering great heartache, being a universe apart from her husband and children, Fenna dealt with everything that came her way with dignity, grace and resilience. Never once did the fire of determination to fight her way back to her family leave her eyes. Just being in her presence was of great comfort to MacKensie and the twenty-one year old looked up to her a lot.

And now there was a second woman who MacKensie had discovered an immediate desire to emulate. Alison Walker. She had connected with the American rogue so quickly, there was just something about her. A certain... je ne sais quoi - a va va voom. Just... so damn cool. Kind of like Fenna with a mix of Zell - a wild description, to be sure, and maybe not quite accurate enough, but it was hard to pinpoint, MacKensie had known the woman for less than a day. Whatever it was about her, MacKensie was detecting the seed of a feeling familiar to how she felt about Fenna.

"But then, this ball of light comes walking into the Brass Monkey..."

MacKensie was taken by complete surprise when she felt the iron grip of Alison's hand on her shoulder, wide-eyed as she was shaken about, forced to do her best impression of a human bobblehead. A smile slowly broke through the shock and she laughed as Alison finally relented, her characteristic nervous motion of tucking her hair behind her ear triggered as she shared her amused gaze with everyone around the table.

Alison asked for more answers and Adam sought to give them, providing a succint account of the most important details. "...So we know where to go next and why we're here, we just need to know how to get home. That's important, obviously.”

MacKensie's lips pursed in a solemn smile as she watched Adam's gaze fall on Fenna for that last sentence. The young man was so caring, always looking out for the best interests of others. His selflessness was a shining light - a moral compass for Second Chance, always pointing in the right direction no matter how the situation turned. Right from the start, when they had woken up in the village of Hommas, Adam had been the first to speak up and let everyone know that they should do the right thing and help the townguard fight the monsters that bore down on them. And since then, he was always - without fail - oriented towards that which was righteous.

What happened next was astonishing. MacKensie was put in suspense when Alison got up out of her chair and stepped back. Then... she vanished! MacKensie gasped a little and looked around half-expecting that the woman had teleported, as their party idiot was wont to do on occasion, but Alison was nowhere to be found. It was barely percpetible under the ambience of the tavern room but her sharp Ranger ears picked up the faintest trace of footsteps go past, behind her and she looked but saw nothing. Then Alison appeared behind Adam with that cool smile of hers and shrugged. "This cloak of mine isn't just for fashion. I woke up with it. Seems to bend light in a way to make me as invisible as possible. It's not perfect. I can still make noise and if I move too fast, anyone with a sharp eye will see it distort. That and I can only use it a few times a day, but hey, I'm not complaining."

Well that certainly answered Adam's inquiry! The conversation continued, Alison showing interest in the Source Comm system, to which, MacKensie chimed in. "I think it would be best if you saw it for yourself," she advised with an assuring nod before Alison went on to explain that The Thieves Guild didn't quite have the same level of amenities for it's contractors. "I see."

James, who had been listening in silence so far, entered the exchange here. MacKensie found herself glad that he did so. James was exceptionally intelligent and his input was always welcome and often illuminating. "...Sorry to butt in, I was occupied when we were presenting ourselves, my name is James Sirius, from Mexico, and I am the current leader of Second Chance, nice to meet you"

MacKensie smiled, not only for his good manners - something that was always appreciated by the frenchwoman - but for his characteristic frown. That was his happy face. And... his angry face. And, well... one tended to get used to it. The man underneath the expression was delightful.

"The Witch Queen," MacKensie began, her voice lowering a little. "She did not only hack the Emperor's message to us. She sent a message of her own." That message was as much for Alison as it was for the rest of them. "All of us were hit with quite a shock when we returned, tired and injured from our mission, to find that message waiting for us. Perhaps fresh eyes on the Witch Queen's words would gleen some new information from it?" She looked at James. "Although, I am not sure if Alison will be authorised for this. Do you think Lucy would allow it?" she was asking James, but then looked to the others too for an answer.
Okay I have returned! I was away for some time due to a sudden opportunity to visit some relatives I have not seen in literal years, sadly they live in the boonies so their internet connection is spotty at best.

Still, a lot has happened since the last posts.







Lmao! 10/10 Teyao xD
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet