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
"...And you think I know any more than you?" Amon replied. Something in his gut told him something wasn't right...did she ever have a good relationship with her father...?
Or it could just be him being paranoid...whatever...
"Wouldn't it be better to get him something he could use everyday? I dunno...a pocket watch maybe...?" he suggested. Might as well play along for now...
===
Inside the store
"You gentlemen find everything okay?" asked a passing worker, half sincere, half wanting them to just answer 'Yes' so he could leave...
Above, on top of the shelves, perched a few clockwork birds, hidden from view, carefully observing the patrons as they browsed the aisles...
"I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible! And when I leave, you will finally understand why storms are named after people!" - Taryn, Nerf This
All things considered, being up here in an airship, a fleet of men under your control, and one foxy lady down below, life ain't bad.
The blades on the airship displace air, and sound, oddly pleasing to Levi as he licks his thumb and flips the page on whatever he's reading. In fact, you'd rather not know. The boy's got it all up here, a helm, a chair, power. His feet are on two rungs of the wheel, keeping the zepplin "steady" as it hovers above ye' olde place of action. It's an odd, eerie feeling knowing you're up here, hanging around to cause ruckus. He wonders how the people down below feel.
"Aye' Capt'Levi, why'd we go floatin' inta the sky again?" asks a crewmate, for the fourth time.
"Something, something mission, Caitlin said I had to. You're here because I said you had to." He turns the page of his article. The engines hum along to the side, slowly turning the ship in circles to hold position. Levi pulls the air-raid lever, letting some air out of the ballast, causing it to descend slightly, before letting the handle ratchet up, and air begin to return to it. "Spose' to be a walk in the park, ya'know, till she goes blowing arses up!" He sags the article to give a stony look to the mate, his eyes shining behind the tinted glasses over his face.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Jan 21, 2017 4:54:21 GMT
"That's.... a good idea," she hated to admit. Because most likely in any case, the pocket watch store was -not- within look-out range of the emporium. She looked back and forth between the hats and her hand, holding it up as if considering the alternative. Not that Cait had ever carried a pocket watch or ever could. Not one that told time at any rate. "I dare say though in this season a hat would prove most useful, for keeping his head warm. At least till Spring returns. It has been rather chilling lately." But now she s'posed she might have to actually go in and actually buy one to accommodate her story.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Faolan waited until the two had entered the warehouse before looking around once more. He still found it amusing that Thrak still called him Commander. He was captain of the airship they both utilized, true, but Commander was a throwback to when he'd once been High Commander of the EIRAL. These days it was more a moniker than an actual rank.
Skye looked around again, checking once to make sure the area was clear, when he noticed Cait and Amon walking into the hat shop. Not good. If Amon suspected something this could turn messy very quickly. He took one final look around and crossed the street. At least Amon was one of the few who still knew who he was or used to be.
Moving into the shop, he took his own hat off, as any gentleman would do, and moved towards Caitlin. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and announced, "Sorry I'm late, I had a bit of trouble picking out the perfect outfit. I didn't mean for you to have to start alone." He turned, and as if seeing Amon for the first time, he gave a polite bow. "Amon, nice to see you as always. It's been a while. I'd heard you'd disappeared again. Glad to see the rumors of your demise are greatly exaggerated."
He did not want to know. He really, really, did not want to know. Cadence had asked him to accompany him to a store— one he had visited quite a bit when he was, well, a guild leader? Wern still could not fathom how that had come to be— or well, he could fathom. Amon had “died” but hadn’t, coming back, well, scarier than when he had left. Cadence had patted him on the back after he relayed faintly (because he felt like he shouldn’t relay everything— Amon was a secretive, and now, dangerous man) the event of his return. She told him not to worry, that frankly, everyone in Mingo’s had a few screws lose. No surprise there to find that even the leader himself had multiple screws undone. They wouldn’t be inventors if they didn’t have them, she reasoned. The larger man did not fully get her reasoning but, it did make him feel a little better. Cadence had the affect on people. Or well, at least him. Now, Cadence had dragged him to the store, ushering that they needed a few parts for a new projects. Their partnership, although rough, was still somewhat stable. He just… did what she told him to do, and she would do the rest. Apparently, though, this project would include a voltage regulator. Why, Wern really did not want to know. Cadence spoke briefly of random topics— of new flowers, and how she might make use of a new fragrance for her invention. “To mask up the oil.” Wern shrugged, faintly noticing that a group of people were already around the voltage regulator section. “Should we, um, hang back?” Wern offered, and Cadence looked at the group. The older woman shrugged, putting an arm around him. “Why? There’s enough room for all of us, ladie.” Wern was not convinced. There was a man even larger than him there, and the figure in all black did, well, frighten him slightly. But frankly, many people did frighten him. Still, Cadence walked forward, whistling lightly as she nudged Wern in the side. Wern let out a squeak, looking to Cadence in confusion. The elder woman pointed upward, to the birds, and Wern furrowed his brow. That’s right. Amon had eyes everywhere. For some reason, that did not comfort Wern in the slightest.
What is important to me is the experience of making. I leave all my work outside and often return to watch it decay.- Andy Goldsworthy
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on Jan 27, 2017 12:18:05 GMT
"Now whut?" Thrakazog had asked his companion. But before his fellow rogue could answer, someone happened by who asked them if they were finding everything ok. Thrakazog nodded, and agreed, "Yub, yub," in his usual, friendly, deep baritone. The questioner seemed strangely relieved by that answer and moved to go on about his business. Thrakazog suddenly realized that he hadn't even noticed the person walking up to them as they perused the shelves, causing him to take a better look around to see who else might be in the immediate area.
He spotted two other people, in fact. One was a woman he didn't recognize, but she accompanied a stout fellow he did remember. Thrakazog's face lit up with recognition when he noticed Wern (though he didn't know the man's name). The effect was sort of like a flower opening its petals in the early morning dew. No... this was Thrakazog. It was more like an alligator emerging from a muddy bank. Either way, his eyes opened a little wider, and his mouth opened much wider than that in a toothy grin as he raised a massive arm and hailed the shorter fellow.
"Ug dere, youz!!" He bellowed, and moved closer to the 'familiar stranger'. "Me remem... rememb... me know youz, from da Faire! Youz dat nice guy wut let Thrak win!"
Thrak headed towards the man with a hand outstretched for a handshake, possibly giving Khamsin an opportunity of distraction. But whether it was effective or not, it was hardly Thrakazog's intention to pull off anything so subtle. If he afforded the distraction, it was purely by coincidence, and not his goal.
Amon was about to respond to Cait when a certain someone approached them.
Skye.
Okay.
This was definitely not suspicious...
Not at all...
"...Nice to see you too..." Amon responded slowly. "I suppose you're escorting the Baroness while she goes shopping?"
Because (again), it was not suspicious that an ex-wanted "criminal" was escorting the Baroness around, much less the leader of the Rogues.
What was going on...?
"I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible! And when I leave, you will finally understand why storms are named after people!" - Taryn, Nerf This
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Jan 31, 2017 19:18:52 GMT
Queens, what the hell was Skye doing? -- Too late. This was bad. This was a very bad cover, and a very dry and colorless tactic. She had to try very - very hard not to frown. Maybe those bonehead nobles would have bought such a rouse, but not the more creative class who were always looking sideways and backwards at everything.
He must have forgotten that Amon knew who he used to be, who he was now, and to her never-ending dissatisfaction; who she really was as well. Together that was just too many high-profile persons trying to keep a low profile. How they had come to a place where almost all the "secret" guilds leaders knew each other and WHAT each other were was beyond unsettling, but alas... that was the way of things now.
And now, her cover was beyond blown. No way she would bring him along to escort her shopping for Dandy hats for her father. Not even one of CAEsALs orphans would fall for that one. She heaved a heavy sigh.
"I'm testing a recruit." She fessed up. Better now then after he'd figured it out himself and it was too late. She just hoped he would be able to look at this through her eyes, and find common ground from his own membership enlistments that and then come to an understanding.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Skye shook his head and slumped his shoulders a bit. He'd never been great at undercover work. "Well, I was going to say we were dating, which is also true, but I guess cards are on the table now." It didn't matter, he felt stupid either way. Fumbling things up was worse when it was Caitlin's operation he was messing up. At least if it was his own he could just smack himself later. He took a step back and bowed his head in apology.
Testing a recruit? What exactly does that entail? And why all the secre-
Testing a recruit.
Cait's guild is the Rogues.
Made up of pirates and thieves.
Amon couldn't help but facepalm for Cait. Skye, you complete and utter moron...
"Considering your guild, I'm just going to assume exactly what you planned," he sighed, rubbing his temples. "You know, you could've just let me know ahead of time; I mean, even Danny of all people had the courtesy to let me know that they were planning on stealing from me for a greater cause..."
"Better late than never I suppose..." he grumbled, lowering his hand. "Which shop were you hitting?"
"I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible! And when I leave, you will finally understand why storms are named after people!" - Taryn, Nerf This
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Oct 20, 2017 4:56:25 GMT
"The one across the street... not really a shop so much as a wearhouse, persay," she admitted. There at least now their cards were all face up on the table and they were being honest with one another. "We heard you have upgrades. I sent a rookie to find out."
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
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