Prepare for the #LodanRespawn2024 Existing characters may choose to be displace from/have memories of different timelines, thereby allowing returning members the option to retcon their whole character. These changes are the result of the "Unnatural Fog" plot device that is running between now and the Respawn. The plot is simple: no matter where your character is, that place is shrouded in a thick fog that suspends time, but not thoughts or memories, so even if they're repeating the same day over and over again, they continue to remember, so each time feels like a new day. For those retconning OCs; this is where new versions of themselves have the opportunity to replace the old versions. Official lore and tree updates will be announced asap
Post by Lone Bateleur on Feb 14, 2016 22:16:41 GMT
MI hadn't told her to do it, but she wanted to. It was risky. She was stupid for attempting it. But she was small. Nimble. And she was going to prove that she wasn't afraid anymore. She steadied her small breaths as she scaled the part of the wall surrounding the training area that was closest to the trees and brush. Her bare foot flexed as it balanced itself against the fence, the other stuck within a crevice. Like this she proceeded quickly, quietly, until her large eyes peered over the top and gazed across the landscape in front of her. She brought the rest of her body up onto the top of a sturdy part of the structure until she sat crouched on top. She needed to get those papers. She needed to know what was going on. Nobody told her anything - and she didn't blame them, but nevertheless, she wanted to show that she could bring new, unheard information to MI. She wanted to be of use, as she knew she could be.
Last Edit: Feb 14, 2016 22:17:04 GMT by Lone Bateleur
Patrol the perimeter. That was her order, so that’s what she did. Although she technically didn’t need to follow it (it wasn’t issued to her from Kalum) she did anyway because she was craving any sort of excuse to get out of the building. People were angry about the war, about the Battle of Catstamere, about people who died, about people who lived. A lot of the soldiers still saw her as the weak ‘mousemaid’ that Andronikos had named her. They didn’t believe that she had killed a rabid feline ander, they said that Artorigus must have done it, and the sap was just trying to give her the credit because he had a crush on her. But no matter the opinion, no matter the story, the opinion of the masses was the same. They didn’t like her. And she knew it. But she worked through it anyway.
Patrol the perimeter. It also meant ‘Get out of here so we don’t have to stare at you a second longer.’ The looks didn’t come from Kalum or his squad, but they did come from everyone else. Everyone who didn’t know her personally. She was a woman among the ranks of men. She didn’t belong and she knew that. Winters and Jovena were exceptions, they were strong woman, they deserved to be among all the men. But Gladys? She was weak, timid, shy. This wasn’t a place for her, but she found herself here anyway. She didn’t have anywhere else to go, save for the brothel.
Patrol the perimeter. A.k.a. go outside and get hit by a stray bullet, or even better, a mortar so that we won’t have to deal with you anymore.
Gladys took a shaky breath as she turned the corner, lifting a hand to wipe away the stray tears forming in her eyes. She knew what people thought of her, knew how they saw her. And she wanted to change their minds. She just needed a chance, an opportunity, some way to prove herself.
When she looked up and saw a figure climbing down the wall and onto the grass, she almost felt lucky for a moment. Reaching for her sword and resting a hand on the pommel, she called out to the figure. “Stop. You’re under arrest for trespassing on EIRAL property.” All she could see was white hair—probably an ander. And an ander coming onto EIRAL grounds was certainly against the law.
“Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. Do not bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself.” ―William Faulkner
Lone paused, stalk still, a statue of porcelain, as she stared in the woman's direction. Without any prior notice, she then lept from her perch and darted past the strange soldier lady, bringing up plumes of dust with each step. She was quick, tiny, and made her way around and towards the building itself. Her hair was up and her mask was on, meaning that, unless they caught her, identity would not be an issue. But if they had caught her, then it wouldn't matter much if they knew her identity or not, so she continued her quest. To the door, she ran, but stopped again. There were soldiers in there as well, no doubt. A water spout, broken halfway up, sat pinned to the side of the wall of the building. If she could climb it, she could climb in the window above and hopefully not be seen... She would have to take the chance. One foot after another, she scampered up the thin metal, until she got to the break in it. Not high enough... Her wings fluttered instinctively, but of course, there was no use in it.
The ander was wearing a mask. The rumors of the masked anders were high, if this one could be captured, information could be gathered from her about the organization. How foolish of them to venture so close to the largest gathering of EIRAL in Lodan.
Gladys felt the need to blow her whistle, to call the others but… She wanted to do this on her own. If she turned in one of the ander traitors, then maybe, just maybe, she’d finally have respect from everyone.
So she took off after the small child, chasing after her as quickly as she could manage. It was difficult, the kid almost outran her, but she caught up as the child stopped at the side of the building. No, that freak couldn’t be allowed to touch the building. Gladys got a clear look at the things on the girl’s back then, bones that looked like they used to be wings. Ander-hood confirmed, and it was a disgusting ander at that.
“Stop!” Gladys ordered, her voice ringing out with a steely edge that surprised even her. But the kid didn’t stop. She started climbing the pipe. Scowling, Gladys reached for a utility knife on her belt and whipped it at the child. She didn’t expect it to hit, but perhaps she could get lucky? She had to try, not to mention that the rat had her injured wings. More of a target then. And at the very least, the kid was at a dead end of the pipe. No where else to do but down.
“Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. Do not bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself.” ―William Faulkner
Lone looked back at the soldier woman who was chasing after her, only to see a knife whiz past her face and lodge itself in the space between the pipe and the window. Lone hesitated for a moment, but grabbed the handle and pulled herself up, resting her foot on it for a split second before grabbing the part of the pipe that was still attached to the wall above the break. From there she scampered up the side and into the window, not thinking what was inside.
It was lucky - the room was absent of people. Midday shadows were cast across the walls. Next to the window she climbed in was a desk, and on that desk were papers.... Probably important papers. Lone grasped at them, folding them up hastily, and stuffed them in the pocket of her dress. She didn't know what they were. There was a chance theyw eren't important at all - none of the letters made sense to her. But she could still bring them along, just in case. The next thing she needed to do was listen.... Spoken word she could understand. If she could hear something of use....
No. She had already been spotted. Time was something she didn't have. She would have to go down the pipe again. Making her way to the window, darted out and scampered down as quickly as she could, not taking even a moment to look to see what the soldier woman was doing or where she was. With that, she began to run into the street in front of the barraks, hoping there were people there to blend in with...
But there were none.
Last Edit: Feb 22, 2016 5:24:23 GMT by Lone Bateleur
Gladys watched with a scowl as her knife missed, reaching down to fumble for another one as the girl used it to climb into the base. Why hadn’t that window been locked? She swore to herself under her breath as she turned to run towards the door of the building, to call for help, to admit that she couldn’t do this herself.
But before she could open the door, another noise. The kid had come back out. She found what she was looking for that quickly? Taking a breath, Gladys took off after the child once again, following the faint outlines of wing bones as she ran. She knew the kid was fast now, and her anger at being bested gave her fuel to keep up after the ander scum.
Why was the kid heading to the front of the barracks? To meet a rendezvous? If that were the case, then her masked friend didn’t show because the street was empty. The kid looked right and left, seemingly confused, and it gave the soldier a bit of reassurance. Maybe she could capture this kid after all. Drawing her duel swords, she called out after the kid. “Turn yourself in and we’ll go easy on you.”
“Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. Do not bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself.” ―William Faulkner
Lone spun around as the woman cried out to her - swords in hand. The silence breached the few seconds after the spoken words, until lone brought a rock, a piece of rubble from the ground, and swung it at the woman's head, ducking as she did this and attempting to find a place to hide.
Gladys saw the rock coming and easily dodged it, stepping to the side. The girl ducked away, probably trying to flee again. But the guard wasn’t in the mood for another wild goose chase. Releasing another frustrated sigh, Gladys whipped one of her swords at the girl’s back. The kid was close, it should hit. And the sword was thin, so it shouldn’t kill. It should just injure her, stop her from running. Gladys was tired of all this dam running. If the kid had been human, it would have been a different story. But no, this kid was ander, and one of the masked anders at that. All of EIRAL would do just about anything to catch one of those masked anders, which was exactly what Gladys planned to do.
“Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. Do not bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself.” ―William Faulkner
The sword lodged itself between Lone's shoulder blades, and shock fell like an anvil onto her frail frame.
A scream, a ghastly screech, of surprise, of knowing, echoed from between the girl's teeth and ricocheted throughout the buildings surrounding the scene.
There was no one.
No one.
For no one came when her bowl was empty. No one, when the shadows moved in the dead of the night. No one, when sleep never came, and never came, and never - No one. No one when her screams were much like the one just now, when the fire fell through her limbs or the bruises or scratches or needles ripped her skin apart -
No one to listen when she was silent.
She was forever silent.
As the deep, red blood lapped against the skin, wrapped around segments of spine and nothing more, debris lifted from its place and twirled in the air before shooting itself in all directions. A giant segment of dirt swung past Gladys' head.
Lone held her head in her hands, tears dribbling through the newly formed cracks in her mask, her eyes large, quivering, violent. Magic coursed throughout her being, throughout the air around her, throughout everything. Everything. The earth below, the earth itself.
As the sword sunk into the girl’s frame, Gladys began walking forward, taking slow and even steps. A part of her wanted to feel bad about what she had just done—this was a child, a little girl who had just screamed out in pain when the metal bit her back—but a different part, a stronger part, reminded her about why she couldn’t. Anderswelters were the pests of the city, and a specific group of them, one that this girl belonged in (or was pretending to belong in) had been especially large and annoying pests just before the war broke out. While the hunt for them was paused for the battle, it was not forgotten.
That’s why Gladys needed to capture this girl. It would be a service to the city to get this pest off the streets. The fact that it would also gain Gladys some status was a welcomed bonus. That scream, that ear-piercing scream would alert other guards of the battle, it would bring them running. But that was okay. They could see Andronikos’ “mousemaid,” capture this girl. Then they’ll respect her. Then they’ll treat her fairly.
The magic being summoned by the girl was annoying, but it wasn’t directly harmful. Brushing some dirt off her uniform with her free hand, Gladys stopped just two steps from the child, other sword pointed down at her. “Stop the magic and come with me. You’re under arrest for trespassing on EIRAL grounds and for affiliation with the band of ander outlaws tormenting the city.” The kid had a right to know why she was under arrest; that was one thing Gladys always held to. Other guards skipped that part when addressing anders, but she wasn’t like the other guards. She held standards.
“Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. Do not bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself.” ―William Faulkner
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