The City at the Center of the Multiverse

A tiny colony of Grubbs was capable of so much. Or at least, this one could. Working mercilessly day and night, their hive was allowed to expand considerably thanks to the distance between them and the frightful city folk. Free from having to worry about being mashed into stews, this colony built a bright orange hive out of a small hill, its multiple holes providing a colorful display of lights whenever the purple sun would set beyond the horizon, lighting up the night all the way until that sun's eventual return.

Yet the lilac morning sky has awakened without company, for the hive has been emptied far before sunrise. Its inhabitants, scurrying for greener pastures, can only watch from afar as nearly invisible creatures stumble and crawl towards the west, aiming once more for the city. Still... despite their loss, each tiny insect couldn't help but hope that a similar fate wouldn't befall the treacherous city folk. Yes, even as their beautiful hive was turned into nothing more but specks of lifeless flesh, the insects thought only of the pain that awaited the people of the city.

A tiny colony of Grubbs was capable of so much. But for now, they watch, as the Pseudosentia begin their days-long arduous crawl towards the city.

On an usual day, Cloudcrest would probably be crawling on all fours, contemplating the beautiful Balder sky whilst gently chewing on whatever nature had to offer to them. On an usual day, they'd be sleeping soundly amongst the undomesticated Haina, perhaps even playing along with the Gozeps, or letting the gentle breeze be their only source of refreshment.

Today was not an usual day, for today Cloudcrest was running for his life.

Together with their group of six other naturalists (as they liked to be called, although most people just called them 'idiots' because of their 'suicidal' desire to mingle with the Naked Wilds), Cloudcrest ran for their life through the desert that separated the Eastern Gate and the Naked Wilds themselves. Their panic (and complete disregard for their own belongings, which they quickly shed in exchange for some speed) became clear once their hunters climbed over the last mountain: a pack of perhaps sixteen Pincae, rage in their eyes and pincers, rushing after the humans.

"OPEN THE GATES! OPEN THE GATES!" Cloudcrest shrieked as a young barefoot man tripped on his own coat made out of Faire leaves. On an usual day, Cloudcrest would have stopped to help him as he struggled with the cloak, the Pincae pack growing closer and closer. But today was not an usual day.

Toph◊ had grown used to the cold nature of her ships. She leaned against the window in the boarding area, letting her eyes face the city down below, even though for all intents and purposes she had no idea where exactly they were. All she could feel was the rhythmic bumping and moving of the engines, the brakes squeaking underneath the metal floor. She knew just how rickety and just how dangerous the ships actually were. But she didn't tell anyone: it was her duty to make sure things went just fine, not that everyone started panicking like a bunch of idiots.

There was a rough thud, and whilst everyone else in the ship swayed a little, Toph remained safe and steady. Her vision began clearing up, but it wasn't until the landing bridge touched the ground that she let out a sigh of relief. With her personal bag over her shoulder, Toph made her way down the bridge, waving back and nodding to the other officers as they wheeled crates off the ship or headed off to their homes. Balder's intergalactic representative waited, and waited, and waited, until her feet touched the dirt of the landing field (a personal request to the Little Princess).

Gone was the roughness and loneliness of the metal. The vibrations of Balder's city center rushed back to her. The beautiful architecture, the streets filled with people moving to and fro, young lovers convening in a nearby park, fights about to break out in an even closer pub, the distant sound of a local street band tuning its instruments.

"I'm here." She muttered to no one in particular.

"There's no place like home? What sort of halfassed moral is that supposed to be?"

Out of all the vendors in the city center's market square, Hanmot was the least bullshitt-y. He prided himself in being as straightforward as possible, hated street artists and hated haggling or any other kind of 'exclusive discounts'. So it was really a surprise that he stopped to read one of the many pamphlets being handed out by the wandering hunched cloaked figure.

"This is just low quality work." He crumpled up the piece of paper in his hand and threw it on the ground in front of the figure. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood today. Otherwise I'd just report you to the police for your crimes against our... languages..."

Hanmot trailed off as he noticed the item that the cloaked figure was holding: his own pouch of coins, for whenever he had to wander into the other quadrants to buy fresh supplies. "Gee, thanks for all the compliments!" The figure said, straightening its back and pulling down its hood to reveal a young teen with ashy red hair, brown skin, a dragon-like snout, along with scars and deformations littered across its face. "I'll keep them in mind for next time."

The teen had already dropped its cloak and rushed into a nearby alleyway by the time Hanmot had thrust his hands in the sky. "Thief! THIEF! A blasted little mutant thief!" He roared, stepping out from behind his fruit stand and pointing of the direction of the grinning boy. "S-someone get a Fusilier! Go after him! AFTER HIM!"

Bathed in the light of the fifty or so candles in his own personal room, Anh let his fingers scroll through a parchment he had retrieved from his own personal collection. Clad only in his private blue robes, Anh let his long mud-colored hair drift down his partly exposed tattooed back, sitting on the ground cross-legged. "What are we after in this life, Sister Xola?" He said, to the two figures standing near his door- one of them his personal assistant, a tall pale Thanatologist with a penchant for silence, the other the mutant he had called by name.

"We are seeking death." He said before Xola could say a single world. "For in death, we will discover life itself. It was through death that the creatures of our world were given life. It was through death that the portal storms began, leading to the birth of many of Balder's natives. It was through death..." He stopped, his finger hovering above a Japanese word, the ghost of a smile spreading onto his lips. "... that we met, Sister Xola."

With his back still turned to his follower, Anh continued. "I have a mission for you, Sister Xola. It will take you closer to death itself than anything in this life has ever done." He finally turned to face her, inky black eyes hanging over the smile. "Will you accept this honor?"

Qilli bowed before one of the many reflective surfaces in Balder's government headquarters. He remained there, in the middle of a sumptuous, yet diminute lobby that would have looked more at home in a miniature replica of a grand ballroom. He knew these things, he had been in places like this before, and yet, Qilli couldn't stop shaking. In his world, he had been a bard, but ever since he had arrived in Balder five years ago, a new art had called to him: the art of chronicling. It was his job, nay, his duty, to pay back his new home by writing down its definitive oral history.

And yet, he definitely wasn't shaking because of the massive amounts of rolled up parchments in the bag he was holding. Why did he still feel afraid, despite having played for kings, queens, dictators and generals? Was it perhaps because this was the first one who didn't see him as a lesser species? Or at least that's what he thought. He had heard many stories about Mayor Cassiopeia whilst trying to request a personal interview with her. The time had finally come. And now all he had to was wait.

Returning from his bow, Qilli noticed someone staring at him from a nearby corner. "Can I help you?" He asked the short woman watching him from behind a set of foggy glasses.

"I-I'm sorry!" She yelped, making her way towards him with a stretched hand that almost seemed like a blade. "It's just... I've never seen anyone like you, and it is my job to give my new boss information about all the people of Balder, so... so I was just very, very curious!"

Qilli eyed the hand nervously, before giving in and shaking it. "A pleasure to meet you...?"

"Andressa." She adjusted her glasses. "I'm from the Northern Quadrant. I work for Commander Kiryuin. Assistant."

"Oh." Qilli tilted his head, smiling. "I've heard many stories about her." His hand was about to reach for a parchment and a pen. "Is she a good boss?"

Andressa's eyes went wide, her cheeks went red. "Uhm." She looked around, crossing her arms. "I'll have to get back to you on that.. y'see, I'm part of a new wave of office workers. It's my first day." One hand rubbed the back of her neck so much, it was about to bruise it. "It might also be my last day if I don't find her office sooner or later..."

"You ever feel like a little part of your soul just dies whenever that sun comes up?"

Meiddus and Wolnee watched from their spot on the Western Gate as the deep purple night sky gave way to the bright lilacs of another morning. Their hands held onto their rifles- despite the lack of enemies on the nearby grasslands- even as their eyes threatened to shut down shop and bring their bodies down with them. Morning shifts weren't usually this rough. But then again, the two usually didn't spend their hours before a shift in the smoky rooms of the Cauldron club.

"Because I do. In fact, I've been feeling like that ever since that woman told me to butt off." Wolnee grumbled, not even bothering that his long blonde hair wasn't properly tied up or that one wasn't supposed to unbutton part of their Fusilier uniform.

"Well, yeah." Meiddus shrugged, one hand digging into his hair and scratching a sore itch. "That's because you're still not using the damn Fusilier card, idiot."

"I want people to like me for who I am! It's not my fault she was much more interested in some random tall guy from the city center who wants to buy the Cauldron club. Besides, I care about this badge, Meiddus. I'm not going to wave it around to get some random one night stand."

Meiddus grinned and pointed at his own chest to his thumb. "Say that to the gorgeous brunette I slept with. He even gave me his address. It's in the Northern Quadrant." He held out his hand for a high-five, and Wolnee replied by just glaring at him. "Come on! The prettiest guys are from the Northern Quadrant. Also, I bet he has a female friend or two I could introduce you to."

"Is that all this job is to you?" Wolnee scoffed, turning his focus back onto the grasslands. "Just a way to satisfy whatever pleasure you're feeling on that particular day? Oh, yes, Meiddus, I saw you asking for a Fusilier discount."

"Don't go all poet on me, Wolnee." The other Fusilier grumbled, lowering his rifle so he could stretch his arms, as outside, the shift change process began. Unbeknownst to the two watchmen, it also signaled the arrival of their general, though they were far too focused on their conversation to notice someone overhearing them. "It's all I got left, okay? I signed up because I thought I'd get to be a hero. But nowadays?... man, I just... I just wish something big would happen."

The bell rang, and all the kids headed into the school, bidding goodbye to the parents and siblings that brought them there. Like always, some of the teachers waited outside, partly so they could do a headcount and partly because every student liked to get a hello on the way in.

Except for one of them.

Lísu wasn't a noteworthy thirteen year old boy. His only big achievement had been getting tattoos on his cheeks and managing to pass them off as his way of 'expressing my Northern quadrant pride' (a fact which annoyed some of the teachers and delighted his fellow classmates). But on this day, he was standing outside the school, staring at the sky, frozen in thought.

The instant one of his teachers approached him, he would turn to them, and his eyes, his once beady, innocent eyes, would be purple, full of light, full of wonder, full of fear. "The creator is pleased with his creation." He said, his voice still the same as before, but now carrying the weight and power of someone else. And then, just as soon as these strange words had left his mouth, Lísu slumped forward, falling into exhaustion.

edited 8th Apr '18 2:54:47 PM by Stratofarius

Eastern Gates

One of the pincers came close to the man helpless on the ground, ready to strike the downed naturalist, then-

SNIKT

In the blink of an eye, the head of the pincer slides off the rest of it's body, with a young looking woman with two metal claws sticking out of both fists standing next to it's body.

"Run, you'll be covered," she simply said. If anyone could say anything about Laura's attitude today, is that she was expecting something like this today. She had warned these same people about the high number of metallic insects in the area, but none of them listening to the mutant Fusilier, believing she was just a non believer scaring them to stop their ways. Truth is, if someone warned you of the dangers of the wilds East of the city, you listen. The Pincae are an invasive species and predators to them are few. Today, she is going to help nature thin the herd.

She knows the metal bugs are hard-shelled, but not everywhere is the hardness even. Attacking the joints are the best way for non fire users to kill them. She also knows that one of them are about to smash her with it's large pincers, but her Gear teammate will take care of that in 3,2...

edited 6th Apr '18 5:48:00 AM by goldenshark

Eastern Gates - Feeling like crab for dinner tonight...

...1.

The Pincae's claw, raised up to strike at Laura like that, was lined up perfectly with its user's head, so that was where he struck. Flying in with his coat billowing like a soaring kite, Sin's legs were outstretched as he slammed himself feet-first into the pincer, bending the creature's limb inward and slamming the massive claw into its own face.

Sin wasn't exactly small, in fact, he was a pretty tall and buff, but few would guess from looking at him that he'd be able to topple the Pincae over like a bowling pin from that dropkick alone, causing it to be knocked backwards into its own pack. He landed between Laura and the pack of creatures, his signature weapon, a War Flag, rolled up and resting on his shoulders. His free hand curled in front of him, willing little currents of very visible electricity to dance around his fingers.

"I could use something flammable!"

His mind seemed to wander to the coat made of leaves that one guy had just tripped on...

Western Quadrant School - Just another day at work...?

A scowling teenager among the crowd of kids made sure to drag his feet, make it known that he really didn't want to be here. Vigil stood head and shoulders above most of the other students, which wasn't the only reason they tended to stay away from him. Most of the teachers in front of him preferred to avert their gaze as well, with a few exceptions. One of those exceptions, typically, was his own mother.

The young woman didn't look that much older than her son, being the same height as him even, which would leave some disturbing implications. The truth was much worse... if you asked the general townsfolk for an opinion.

Noel looked at her approaching son and hid her pity the best she could. She knew how Vigil was treated by most people, and how attending a class he was growing too fast for was wearing on his nerves. She'd done the best she could to get him jumped a few grades, but that had yet to avail results. Knowing that at least one other member of the faculty looked out for him was a comforting thought, but she still felt that the lion's share of the responsibility should fall on her. It had to be her to do right by her own son.

"Did you have your breakfast?"

Her voice came out soft and nearly emotionless, a leftover trait from a time in her life she'd rather not recall. Vigil's body language changed almost immediately; he was noticeably more comfortable around her.

"Yeah. Almost edible, you're getting there."

Noel audibly chuckled, though it was more of a single, soft 'hm'.

"Only because I have a good teacher, right here."

She patted her son on the shoulder, which he allowed a smile at. She broke off to greet the other children, and Vigil headed off, making sure to be on the lookout for Mrs. Kuroda and nod a greeting to her as well.

Noel was the one to notice Lísu staring at the sky. That certainly wasn't like him, and so she approached him to make sure he was okay.

"Good morning Lísu. What are you...?"

She trailed off, noticing something off about the boy. She knew his eyes definitely weren't usually purple, nor was his tone of voice so steady and powerful.

Noel couldn't even react with a 'what?' before the boy lost his footing from just standing still on the ground.

"Lísu!"

She tried to catch him before he fell on his face, and knelt down to slowly bring him to the ground. And at the same time, she raised a hand to his forehead to check for a fever, before checking his breathing as well.

Vigil, hearing the voice of his mother calling out, turned to watch the events unfold, before rushing to her side and kneeling down to check on the boy as well.

edited 4th Apr '18 9:00:10 PM by LatverianBadger

Judge Matthew Murdock; Balder Supreme Court, Fifth Floor

You know, it's not like I don't like this job. I get to bang a gavel really loud, shut everyone up with a few words, string up the liars and sniggering cons... you know, judge stuff. I get to fight for proper legislation, lobby for a Constitution all on my lonesome. Proper things. Judge things. Things that I couldn't do back in New York City or Hell's Kitchen or even San Fran, no matter how many muggers or ninjas or supercrooks I took down, how many skulls I cracked or noses I smashed.

When you've seen as much as I have - and let me tell you, that is both a whole lot and very, very little - then there isn't much room for moping, not even when you're in a mousehole office with a truckload of paper. Offices are safe. Paper is safe.

"The honorable Judge will in fact remember that he has a meeting with Mr. Alan Wake in five minutes?"

What isn't safe is that noise going off two feet in front of my desk. Over the typing, I mean. I put my hands behind my head and grin.

"Of course, Agnes. Will you do us the honor of making some tea? Earl Grey, no milk..."

Agnes raises an eyebrow. Or at least I think she does. Her hands are on her hips, that's for certain. She stands up from the typewriter, which we keep on her side of the desk, and walks over to the door, which we also keep on her side of the desk.

"One sugar," she says. "I'm well-aware of your preferences, Justice Murdock."

"Agnes," I chide, "it's been six months. Haven't I told you to call me Matt?"

Her too-high heels skid to a stop on the dusty floorboards. Her hand freezes, settled on where the doorknob should be, and her voice takes on the texture of icy, bland vanilla.

"Justice Murdock, I am also well-aware of your... proclivities, and I would like you to know that while they may have assigned me here, I don't intend to get any closer than I absolutely need to. Now, shall I get your tea, or are you going to continue to harangue your secretary?"

"Of course, Miss Tristram." I spread my arms and shrug, a gesture of bashful goodwill. "What would I do without you?"

"Die of thirst, probably," she snorts, and closes the door firmly enough to make a point.

As soon as she's gone, I sigh and rummage for the timetable, running my fingers across the tag to confirm its identity, then across the document as a whole. Red lines, blue words. The red ink feels different from the blue - or at least, the lines do. I can't actually tell which color is which.

Yup. There it is, clear as slashed bark. Alan Wake. Bastard.

"And the thing is," I say out loud, "she wouldn't even believe me if I told her I wasn't interested. Isn't that right, Frankie boy?"

For once today, I don't open my ears for a response, because even I can't hear from City Center to the Western Quadrant. Frankie can.

Unless, of course, he's doing something else.

Franklin Yishan Murdock; Western Quadrant School

This whole place smells like meat. All of it. Rancid oil seeping through the gutters and bushes, wet fat and dried blood flowing through the halls and door-hinges. I couldn't even talk the first few weeks I was here, it was so bad.

Not that anyone else notices. I'm just a bit sensitive is all.

"Isn't that right, Frankie boy?"

Oh, Dad's trying to talk to me again about his work problems. Not now, Dad, I'm walking through the courtyard and there isn't enough...

I feel the incident before it happens. I feel everything around me, really, outlined in the air and ground, which is why when Lísu freezes it strikes me like a spot of ice in a busy summer pond. Goosebumps ripple down my neck. It takes everything I have not to just duck down and walk faster.

It's okay, Frankie, goes my Very Reasonable Crisis Voice. He's just Lísu. And anyway, Ms. Vermillion is there. She's the only teacher who could possibly be that short. And-

"The creator is pleased with his creation," says Lísu, in a terrible voice that feels like a stick run over a hundred shimmering cymbals.

Then he falls over.

I bite my tongue to keep myself from shouting. It comes out as a squeak instead. For an instant, I almost try to turn the concrete to sand, stop him from splitting his skull - but then Ms. Vermillion gets him.

Good. That's good. I probably wouldn't have made it anyway.

I make my way over, trying my best not to bump into anyone. Vigil's there, of course, taller than he was even two months ago, with the same annoyed knots in his shoulders and neck. I slip past him as carefully as I can.

"Um, hiya, Vigil. And, ah, Ms. Vermillion... nice... nice catch?"

I raise my finger, laugh nervously, then jam my hand right back into my kangaroo pocket where it belongs.

"Sorry. He's still alive, by the way. I can hear him breathing. And he hasn't broken anything, either..."

I don't have very many friends here, but Lísu doesn't tease me, at least.

"I've never heard that voice before," I say, slowly and carefully. "I'd know if it was him pretending, or even if it was anyone else in this school. I think. So for what it's worth, this doesn't seem like a prank to me."

I can almost hear the sneers around me.

"Not that what I think matters, of course," I add hurriedly. "Just a thought."

edited 5th Apr '18 3:52:38 AM by troydenite

Balder capitol building

"Good morning, Miss Andressa."

The voice, cool and collected with a thin core of steel, sounded from somewhere behind and above the young Andressa's shoulder. It seemed to echo through the hall despite the speaker's quiet tone, and for a second it almost seemed like the HQ atrium was filled with a fan of golden light.

Staffers perked up their ears - metaphorically and, in some cases, literally - and a hush fell over the atrium. No-one seemed to wonder how the speaker, a tall woman with straight black hair and a powerful set of eyebrows, had managed to come abreast of the girl and the bird-man so quietly in those boots. They just made themselves look as busy as possible, hurrying about their tasks with respectful nods and small salutes. The bravest of them spoke in soft, respectful tones as they passed.

"Commander."

Satsuki Kiryuin returned a few of the nods with the faintest inclination of her chin, her hands resting on the pommel of the sheathed sword planted between her booted feet. After a moment, she turned her attention back to the pair before her.

"Mr Qilli. I hope that the bureaucracy has been treating you well. " She inclined her chin again towards the birdman. "Please send my regards to Mayor Cassiopeia. Miss Andressa, I believe we have an appointment of our own in my office."

She gestured down the HQ's main hallway with one hand, and then set off, footsteps echoing through the atrium this time, her sword in one hand by her side. She didn't look back to check if Andressa was following her.

Western Quadrant School yard

"Of course it matters."

If Frankie could almost here his cohort's sneers, perhaps he could also hear the laser-like glare that Yui Kiryuin swept across the sneerers as she stepped up beside him. The pale girl quickly disengaged the glare as she turned her gaze towards Linu, worry flashing across her face.

"Thanks, Frankie. If it's serious, not a prank, someone needed to know."

Someone jostled her shoulder, trying to get a better look at the fallen kid, and annoyance flared through her. She didn't need super-hearing to pick up the voices shouting the news across the school yard. God, half the school is gonna show up at this rate... Shooting a worried glance back at Linu and Miss Vermillion, the young mutant drew herself up to her full height and turned to the growing gaggle of spectators, holding her arms out to usher the more insistent rubberneckers back.

"Alright, alright, everyone, give him some space!" Yui called out, her voice stern.Thankfully, most of he kids and parents actually listened to her, murmuring amongst themselves and stepping backwards. She'd like to think it was because she'd finally managed to perfect The Voice, but she knew chances were they'd just recognised her as as the Commander's daughter.

That, or they spotted the horns, She thought wryly, shooting the occasional glance back over her shoulder at Linu as she stood watch over the scene.

edited 5th Apr '18 6:53:28 AM by LittleMako

Western Quadrant School

Noel, still with Lísu in her arms, nodded appreciatively towards Frankie and Yui, while Vigil shuffled back a bit after the crowd had dispersed, uncertain if Yui meant him as well.

What Lísu said had struck Noel's mind, hitting her with the feeling of something that'd be staying with her for a while. And the way his eyes had changed like that... if Frankie was right, then this situation was far more familiar to her than she'd like.

She had to physically shake it off, having spent a second just staring at the poor kid and pondering.

"Thanks, you two. You should head to class, I'll get Lísu to the nurse. Don't worry too much about him, alright?"

With that, she called a fellow teacher over to retrieve a stretcher, on which they'd carry Lísu over to the school nurse's office. Vigil was left with Frankie and Yui, watching Lísu be carried away. 'Heading to class' was his lowest priority, and instead of doing so he turned to Frankie, seemingly intrigued and unaware how pointless trying to look a blind person in the eye was.

"I think it matters, too. You can sense things most people don't, so I'd trust what you say.

"Whoever it was, what do you think they meant?"

Laeta Owari - Eastern Gates

"Are all y'all deaf?! They said to open the damn gates!"

Laeta notched an arrow and fired, having only paused long enough to yell the command. The head clinked uselessly against the armour of one Pincae, but a second attempt successfully lodged deep into the insect's leg joint. With a hollow screech, the Pincae fell behind its brethren- though she knew, given the other arrows poking out of various cracks in the herd, that it wouldn't be indisposed for long.

Her quiver was still plentiful, but her attacks were doing little to fend them off. The back-up helped, but that was still only three fighters against a herd of sixteen: if the Fusiliers didn't get off their asses quick, then chances were that they weren't all making it back to the City alive.

A growl escaped from Laeta's gritted teeth. This problem shouldn't be a problem. She knew Pincae better than she knew most people. She knew how they operated, what routes they took around the mountains, where they'd be and how to avoid them. For all that the Survivalists could be reckless, she and the other guards had always managed to drive them away from the worst of the Pincae herds. Today, of course, proving to be an exception, because the little buggers-

Actually, better to save the ruminations for later. She heard the male Fusilier calling out, saw the sparks dancing around his palm, and put two and two together. Coincidentally, or just a case of minds thinking alike, her focus settled on the Faire coat of her peer as the quickest source of fuel. It took just two hefty tugs to disentangle the man from his cloak, and then separate them altogether, after which she gave him a quick shove in the direction of the gates and the fleeing Cloudcrest. Any protests he had about his coat being taken were, of course, ignored.

Quickly Laeta ducked down and dragged the cloak across the ground, gathering enough sod to give it a workable amount of weight. With a cry of "Light 'em up!", she balled up the garment and launched it shotput-style, following its path as it crested through the air and tumbled to a rest in-between Sin and the Pincae.

Akane Owari - City Centre, Landing Field

With rumpled clothes, bleary eyes, and a long trail of drool running down her jaw, Akane was not quite the picture of heroism that the citizens might wish to see from their returning explorers. She made no effort to clean herself up for them as she stepped out onto the landing pad, her gray eyes becoming slits as she forcibly adjusted to the rising purple sunlight.

"Mornin' boss." she yawned, lazily reaching up to wipe away her saliva. The mission had been a bust, as usual- not in the sense that they'd failed to set out what they'd intended to do, but that her personal desire had once more gone unfulfilled. This had made her upset, which had made her angry, which had made her active, which had made her tired, and thus she'd spent most of the return journey resting her weary muscles.

Now that she was awake, there was no sign of the temper that had put her to sleep in the first place. "Is today gonna be the day you hit me up on my offer? All-you-can-eat, fully paaaaid~" As her tone rose, so did Akane's open palm, its intention to give her superior a friendly tap on the shoulder.

Guzma - Northern Quadrant, Ranch

The first ten minutes of each day were dedicated to straps and buckles, weaving the first through the second and tightening them around the remains of his leg. Once the harnesses were secured, and the hinge was locked, Guzma spent another ten reminding himself that violence wasn't supposed to be the answer to good old morning surliness.

Once he'd muttered and griped to a satisfactory amount, he dragged himself from the bed to the polished surface that served as a kitchen counter. There were no divides between living room, bedroom, and kitchen, the previous tenant having found them unnecessary. Guzma mostly agreed, though a hole had been punched into the roof to lead into a new, separate room for his daughter.

There was a large box next to the counter, from which emanated a low, pleasant drone. He gave it a knock with his good leg and the drone blossomed into a fervent buzzing. Coupled with the creaks, chirps, and hissing from the back garden, it put Guzma in a better mood. He double checked that the container was secure before he moved once more to the front door, pulling it open with one hand while the other swept his hair into something manageable, still not quite presentable but it's not like he cared much about that anywa-

"What the fffffaaaah!"

He managed to reach out and grasp onto the door, which was the only thing that stopped him from toppling back onto his ass. Awkwardly getting back into a standing position, cursing every step of the way, Guzma took a second to catch his breath before he glared daggers at the familiar dark-skinned woman relaxing on his front porch. He really shouldn't be surprised at this point, and yet.

"Kid, do you-" Unable to continue without some sort of outlet for his anger, he flung the door so that it crashed against the interior wall. The scuffs and dents lining the metal made it clear that this wasn't an uncommon occurrence. "Do you fuckin' realise what time it is?!"

Edited by whizzerd on Oct 25th 2018 at 1:09:27 PM

Balder Capitol Building

Another rhythmic pounding joined the percussive chorus of the Commander's boots as she departed, and its source soon became clear: a withered old crone in flowing white robes making her way down one of the adjacent hallways, bent over a heavy cane of gnarled wood. None of the passing staff seemed to pay the woman any mind as she methodically thumped her way toward the headquarters' atrium.

Pausing as she neared the waiting avian man, seemingly to catch her breath, she gazed thoughtfully up at his feathered countenance. As wrinkled and weathered as the staff she clutched in her hand, her face, set with two shamrock green eyes and framed by wispy locks of white hair, lit up into a congenial smile.

"Who are you, then?" she asked, voice creaking like an aged door, "Here to see the Mayor, hmm? And for what?"

edited 5th Apr '18 4:41:16 PM by darksidevoid

It was almost a ritual at this point between them. Whenever she was summoned directly by Ahn, and that was often, she knew to stand by the door with her counterpart. She stood there, hands folded in front of her and a soft smile on her face as she just listened. Ahn did seem to enjoy talking, and why shouldn't he? He was good at it after all. They had done this dance long enough that she knew what was actually a question and what was not. She waited, and Ahn continued as she knew he would. Ahn wanted to speak, and for him, she would listen.

Then came the reason for this meeting. As Ahn made his request, she stepped forward. Head bowed and hands still folded, Xola broke formation with her pale other half and came forward. "Death is our final punishment, as is it out final reward." She added, mirroring their rhetoric. Spreading her arms and taking a slight bow in respect, Xola's smile never left the exposed half of her face as she proclaimed "You know that I do not fear that final line. If there is something you need done, you simply need to ask for it."

'Shion Yorigami - Balder Capitol Building

In a lone corner of the atrium, that convincing miniature replica of a ballroom, a dark blue flame burst into being. Giving off no heat, and leaving no marks where they touched the walls, the flames swelled until they were of a height with the avian man. They flickered, as if uncertain, then disappeared as suddenly as they came, leaving behind one lone figure◊. She held a begging bowl in one hand and a folder in the other, and went clad in a torn grey hoodie and dark blue skirt, with notices of debt haphazardly plastered on her clothing.

The elder Yorigami twin studied the room a few moments, then silently floated over to the old woman and the bird man.

"My sister sent me. I have some forms for Cassiopeia to stamp."

She hoped it wouldn't take long, she did not want to linger.

At the same time as the most miserable sister waited for the mayor to rubber stamp the required forms, the esteemed Chancellor was examining the proposed designs for the new mint. There weren't that many, to be honest. Good architects were still rather uncommon in the city.

Frankly, she was perusing the various drafts more to pass the time than anything else. She'd already picked out her favourite, a splendid yet compact affair, three stories, vaults, mints, printers, lounges, and a little space for a shrine. It provided for all of it. The younger twin was quite pleased.

Okuyasu Nijimura - Eastern Gates

A Pincae had jumped out of the way of its brethren and ran for Sin while he wasn't looking. It got close, closer than one normally would, when-

A sound came through, almost like a heavily distorted guitar playing all of its notes at once. Most of the Pincae was gone, only the pincers and the arms attached to them left over. The Hand had struck and made it's way back to Okuyasu, who was grinning like an idiot.

"Man, that never gets old. The people living all cushy in the city center don't know what it's like!"

edited 11th Apr '18 9:38:38 AM by DefRevenge24601

Balder Capitol Building

"Well, dearie, I expect you shall find her in her office," the crone enlightened the floating goddess, waving vaguely up the stairs, "I'm sure you know where it is. I daresay one such as yourself needn't even knock, yes?"

Eastern Gates

Right as he'd been thinking about it, the coat of Faire leaves fell into view, landing in a comfy spot between him and the incoming Pincae. He'd have lighted it up immediately if he hadn't sensed danger coming in from his side, but Okuyasu took care of that. Sin shot the Stand user a grin of his own, one no less idiotic.

"Ain't that the truth?"

And with that, he flexed his arm outwards, fingers outstretched like a hawk's talons. The bolt of lightning struck, and appeared remarkably straight like a focused beam of electrical energy, traveling the shortest distance needed to get to the Faire leaf coat and set it alight. The thing burnt brilliantly, and Sin enjoyed the warmth while he smiled at his handiwork.

"Of course I do." Anh replied as he stood up. Silently, he bowed to her as well, before moving to grab her hands and subtly caress them. "You are our most wonderful sister, and you know that. Our souls are lifted merely by being in your presence. Which is why I know you will not be tempted by this quest, for I want you to find a man who cannot die."

"He himself does not pose a threat to us. After all, he will never know death, and as such, he can never know love. But, Sister Xola, there is a far greater problem surrounding him..." Humming to himself, Anh let one of his sleeves slip down, revealing part of his naked chest. His fingers traced over many of the intricate tattoos covering all of his body, focusing particularly on one that looked like three wavy lines in the center of a larger, circular pattern. "When I gained these markings, I meditated over several weeks to learn of their meaning. This one represents immortality being contained, bottled, sold and used on the one who can never be reborn."

Anh adjusted his sleeve and took Xola's hands again. "I have sensed that soon, someone will try and replicate that man's immortality. And I know, Sister Xola, that once this happens, it'll only be a matter of time before Balder is revived, his sanctity removed, his holiness desecrated. Therefore, your mission is to find this man and to convince him to end his own life. Do this, Sister Xola, and I will give you that which you have always wanted."

Both Qilli and Andressa's jaws began a slow descent towards the floor when Satsuki made her presence known. Whilst Qili caught onto it fast, Andressa didn't, and continued to stare at her own boss with a dumbfounded look in her face. "Oh Gods, she's so tall." She whispered to Qilli, who nodded. "And those eyebrows!" She whispered again, and the bird-man just raised an eyebrow of his own.

Andressa took the lead in reacting to Satsuki's comments, while Qilli decided to just nod and salute her as sternly as possible. "Y-y-y-yes, Commander Kiryuin!" She said, sending the bird-man one last fearful look before following Satsuki, trying to calculate what the appropriate distance between boss and subordinate should be. "Sorry f-f-for my lateness. Unlesssss I shouldn't apologize for my lateness? " She muttered, quickly realizing she had spoken that last sentence out loud. " Shit I' m sorry, Commander!"

It was then that Qilli was startled back into non-gawking reality by the old woman, who had practically gone unnoticed considering the other woman in the lobby. "Oh, I'm—" Qilli bowed suddenly, using this chance to sling his bag around his shoulders tightly. "—my name is Qilli. I'm writing... or trying to write... an oral history of Balder. And I managed to get an interview with the Mayor, after..." He counted on his head. "... seven months? I'm just waiting for her. Hopefully."

He silently reached into his own pockets, pulling out a silver coin and placing it gently in Shion's begging bowl. "You work here? Maybe you can tell me where the Mayor is."

Though some of the Fusilier forces made themselves known, the gates remained close. It was standard procedure- the gates would only open after at least two Fusiliers sent the watchtower guards an 'all-clear signal'- but Cloudcrest Flowerbottle didn't care for standard procedure. "Why aren't they opening the gates?!" They yelled in Laeta's ear, somehow overpowering the young man's complaints about having his priceless Faire coat being used as fuel. "WE'RE GOING TO DIE OUT HERE!"

A single bolt of electricity later and the coat burst into magnificent technicolor flames, shimmering in mid-air and producing enough light to force some of the survivalists to cover their eyes. The Pincae, on the other hand, cared more for the fire itself, the entire pack stopping its tracks once they saw the big fireball in their path. And once the coat fell to the ground and the fire threatened to get closer to them, the Pincae began retreating, scurrying back behind the hills with no regards for the creatures they had just lost.

"You... you didn't have to do that!" Cloudcrest shrieked, somehow regaining control of their own priorities now that the danger was running away from them. "You didn't have to kill them— what if these Pincae had children of their own? You may have just ruined their entire ecosystem!"

Before Akane's fingers could even hit Toph's shoulders, the blind woman effortlessly grabbed her hand and spun her around. "I told you I'm the only one who gets to do that!" She hissed, playfully bapping her hand before letting her go. "You're really too loud, Munchies. And obvious. I knew you were going to do that from the moment you stepped out of the ship- yeah, I'm just that good."

Walking through the field with one hand in her pocket, Toph looked down at her grumbling stomach. "I really wish I could take you up on that, but I gotta... see someone." The uncharacteristic pause was actually quite routine- it was her way of saying 'my kid' without ever using the dread three-letter word. "Is that place open tonight? We could do it then. We're not leaving for another three days, anyway."

Resting in Noel's arms, Lísu's breathing was steady and if he had a fever, then he certainly wasn't showing any of the usual signs. What wasn't usual, however, was what the boy did right after: though it seemed as if he had returned to a state of normalcy, the boy suddenly pushed himself away from the stretcher, falling to the ground with a weak thud. Once there, his eyes jolted open, the entire thing replaced with nothing but a deep purple, the color of the sky right before the darkest nights.

"An unmarked ends the reaping." He said. Lísu's voice wasn't his anymore, instead, everyone around him would hear a different voice speaking. Be it a man or a woman's voice, be it a singular voice or gaggle of voices, it would be whatever fit their description of the adjective 'angelic'. "Hear me, children!" He yelled, digging his fingers deep into the ground and staring right into the eyes of every single kid around them. "Atone for what they did and you shall not punished!"

"Ms. Vermillion, please!" Hissed the other teacher, Mr. Mauty, who had brought the stretcher out. "Grab him! Grab him now!" He shouted, trying to hold onto Lísu's hands as the boy continued to convulse more and more, his rantings now turned into nothing more but a singular, never-ending scream. "Someone get the kids out of here!"

edited 8th Apr '18 3:56:49 PM by Stratofarius

Okuyasu Nijimura - Eastern Gates

"Oh, come on."

-Okuyasu counted the bodies on the ground left by him, Sin, and Laura.-

"One, two, maybe three Pincae dead aren't gonna destroy their entire eco-whatever!"

-Okuyasu scratched his head and bent his knees slightly, The Hand shrugging comically.-

edited 11th Apr '18 9:39:20 AM by DefRevenge24601

Bloodfather-General Jengbish - Balder Capitol Building - Satsuki's Reception

It had been eight years since they'd laid the last brick of the Capitol Building, and Jengbish still couldn't understand why they'd built it like a temple. It wasn't particularly large, not compared to those which had followed, but it was the first structure the city had every commissioned which prioritised beauty over function; all pillars and painted ceilings and awful, awful sight-lines. And all imported. Every brick, every pillar, even the polish his sabatons were taking off the flooring.

It had taken two years to get everything in place, and cost the equivalent of a decade in stockpiles. This was no passing whim.

At first he'd thought it might be a display of power, or at least a demonstration of capital. The people here confused those. But there was nobody who needed to see it. Most of the smallfolk whispered the names of their betters in awe, in terror, in adoration - those that didn't only had to see a badge to know where the power lay. Any Xenos augury or far-flung scrier would only see the corpse at their feet, and that was a statement more potent than any amount of gold or marble.

For themselves? Perhaps, but Kiryuin and Beifong weren't so insecure, and the others wouldn't have dared move without their consent. For him? There couldn't have found enough gold in the system. No, as the years had passed, as he'd seen the way this place was discussed, felt secondhand the reverence its walls commanded, Jengbish had come to understand it as a tribute. Not to the city, not to the people, not to their own power, but to something else entirely, and he was still no closer to understanding what that could be.

At current, the focus of his bewilderment was the vase Commander Kiryuin had decided to affix to a pillar in the alcove opposite, and his observations were thus; the craftsmanship was good enough, and it was a steady hand which had inlaid the patterning, but it was empty. No water, no perfumed flowers, not even soil. He'd checked. It wasn't a trophy, either, because he'd have known, and nobody had been here long enough to have relics.

No, he did not trust this vase. There was a smugness to it, and from the corner of his eye he felt he was being mocked.

Something clacked on the marble behind him, echoing off the painted ceiling, and Jengbish smiled. He saluted as he turned, thumping the breastplate over his hearts with a clenched fist and giving his superior the slightest of bows.

"Commander Kiryuin," he said, gaze passing through her subordinate without acknowledgement. "I see you've been redecorating."

Balder Capitol Building

"Of course Miss Yorigami can tell you where the Mayor is," the crone broke in, chuckling a little, "but let us not keep the Chancellor's assistant from her business, hm? Come, Qilli, I'll introduce you to the Mayor myself."

Having said that, she began to move slooooowly toward the grand staircase at the center of the hall, tapping her cane as she went, walking at a rate that the floating deity could easily outpace if she so chose. "So tell me," she posed to the bird-man as they began to make their ascent, "why seek the Mayor for this history of yours? There are many more accessible people to begin your tale with, I should think."

edited 9th Apr '18 6:40:00 PM by darksidevoid

Shion - Balder Capitol Building

The god nodded, but said nothing. It seemed like the crone, who was probably just the mayor's double, had the bard in hand. Writing down an oral history seemed oxymoronic, but Shion decided not to comment on the matter.

With no reason to hang around, Shion quickly flitted past the duo, moving up the stairs and down the hallway until she stood in front of Cassiopeia's office door. She rapped it three times with her hand, waiting for a response from within.

As she waited she peered at the silver coin she had gotten, that now languished alone in her bowl. It would probably disappear before the day was over.

Eastern Gates

Snikt

Laura, claws retracted, starts to walk past the naturalists and to the gates. Her time in her homeworld gave her thick skin to being berated by people she rescued.

What really bothered her however is that she pasted up Jengbish's usual offer to go into the inner city for his meeting with the higher ups, and as such pasted up seeing Asriel.

"Next time listen to my warnings. If I wasn't here to sense you being chased your friend would had lost more then just his cloak," she said, not even bothering to look any of them in the eyes.

edited 9th Apr '18 3:46:15 PM by goldenshark

Murdock heard him long before he came into view. The heel-to-toe clicks of fine leather soles announced his approach like trumpets for a king. Nothing rushed, but nothing dragged out either, the echo'd steps had their own confident beat that one could easily picture matched with a strut. The noise grew louder, coming closer, unwavering in their direction or intent. He was coming, and whether or not the flat-footed "Honorable Justice Matthew Murdock" or his high-heeled secretary had any reservations about this chat, Alan Wake was going to take his sweet ass time.

A shape approached the tinted class window of the office door. Its free hand reached for the glass, its other hand held something tucked beside its ribs. Five knocks ("shave and a haircut") and the blurry figure shrank with a modest step backwards. No rush.

When the door opened, Alan Wake gave the greeter a warm, charming, and above all effortless smile. Hair slicked back, beard meticulously trimmed, and dressed in one of the finest three piece suits his home world's money could buy, one might mistake this meeting with Judge Murdock as a special occasion. It wasn't. This might be the first time the two men stood in the same room together, but that alone didn't make this meeting special. Not for a man busy trying to bring law and order to a budding civilization, and not for a man eager to watch those efforts come crashing down.

"Well hello there, Your Honor!" Wake gave Murdock another effortless smile, this time with extra ivory teeth.

He extended a hand to shake, and casually waited for the blind man to spot the gesture. Perhaps he'd surprise Wake—Justice Murdock seemed like his wife in more than just their handicap—and if they did shake hands, Matt would notice that Mr. Wake's hands were just as warm as any other human's.

A little strange, given how Murdock's superhuman hearing wouldn't detect a heartbeat.

"Got you a present."

Something thumped on the edge of the desk. A bottle; not a small one either.

"Gragas isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but damn the guy knows how to make good booze!" Wake laughed. "I'd brush my teeth with this stuff if I could."

He took a chair without invitation, and crossed his legs. His raised foot tapped midair to a steady imaginary beat, the shoe's surface reflecting the room like a distorted pitch black mirror. They were the sort of expensive, highly-polished footwear that looked brand new even after thirty-seven years of use. It was as if they had never seen a speck of dirt. And never would.

Link blew on the steaming tea before taking the first sip; his tongue scolded him for drinking something that was still too hot.

Breathing through his mouth to ease the burn, Link's mind ran through the list of self-appointed tasks for the morning: buy ingredients for tonight's dinner, prepare school lunches for the kids, find a new hiding spot for his weapons so Steven doesn't hurt himself (that corner in the rafters won't work anymore), take care of Leni while Mr. Dreemurr's busy with the cooking...here's hoping she won't need to be changed, repair that last bit of fencing he'd damaged when he first arrived, and—

Link's pointed ears twitch at the sound of creaking floorboards above him. The kids were getting up. He put the cup down and set to work on the lunches.

...when the one who sees all sees nothing but the darkness...

Five days after Hylia spoke those words, and Link was no closer to figuring out what they meant. The last message from Hyrule before he found himself in Mr. Dreemurr's backyard...and proceeded to make a fool of himself. Link figured it was just part of a message, but that wasn't exactly the most encouraging thought; where could he start to find the other pieces of the puzzle?

"The one who sees all" couldn't refer to Hylia Herself—She'd never spoken to him in the third person before. Mr. Dreemurr had mentioned this planet was a living being once; could it see everything before, and now can't because it's a corpse? If that were the case, then the message would just be stating a fact—no warning, no prediction, not even an effect. Whatever those words mean, the premonition would be happening right now, and have been happening for more than thirty years.

None of it made any sense. Thankfully, just when smoke might've started rising from his ears, the sound of creaking stairs brought him back to the task at hand. While Link couldn't shed parts of his own energy into the meals he made, countless hours of trial-and-error over a stove had given his cooking skills a certain kind of magic of their own.

When the kids were off at school, and little Leni was brought back to her cradle for a nap, Link took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He'd never asked Mr. Dreemurr for anything before now; after attacking the Monster Prince on sight when he arrived, Link didn't believe he had any right to make requests. Not till the fence was fixed, at least.

But time was running out, and if Hylia had sent him to this planet, there had to be some reason behind it. He had to get to the bottom of this message...and to do that, he'd need a favor.

Link approached the monster, quietly and as formally as he could without treating Asriel like his new king.

"Mr. Dreemurr..." Link began, coughed, then continued. "Can you help me meet the leader of the Fusiliers?"

edited 9th Apr '18 11:15:42 AM by TheodoreHastings

Little Dreemurr's Orphanage

Anyone not aware of the secondary function of this building may find it odd that the kitchen is as large and well stocked as it is. As the only one the city who can make monster food, Asriel had taken upon himself to be the sole supplier of the healing magic food to the Fusiliers. It was times like this where he wishes he wasn't the only monster on the planet. But on the bright side, it also means no one from his home was taken from their family and onto an alien world. Probably.

Now that the children are at school (a short walk from the orphanage), he is now in the process of making curenis soup, a rare event due to how little of the stuff the Fusiliers can give him. With this done, every district now has two serving sizes of the stuff, except City Center with just one. The need for such a powerful healing tool was scarcely needed by the Fusiliers here.

When stirring the pot, Link No Last Name walked in. The city always gives the kids new here a week to settle into their new environment before going to school.

"Mr. Dreemurr..."

"Yea?" said Asriel, now having his attention.

"Can you help me meet the leader of the Fusiliers?"

"Umm... before I answer that, can I ask way exactly?"

"Little Dreemurr's Orphanage," Kitchen: Well Next You're Gonna Start Asking if I Thought This Through!

Link stared back at his patron, too startled by the reasonable question to turn his eyes anywhere but to Mr. Dreemurr's yellow pupils.

"W-why?"

How had he not thought of a reason yet?! He'd been dreading this request since he first decided to make it late last night. Yet in all those silent hours he hadn't found a decent "step 2" to this discussion?!

He could be honest; he was naturally an honest person, anyway. Then again, it's not like the context was something the Monster could relate to. "Oh, it's nothing important—I just hear the voice of my world's creator and guardian from time to time, and She gave me a little puzzle I wanted to run by the Fusiliers!" He'd sound like a lunatic! Poor Princess Zelda tried to hear Hylia's voice for years and never even got a whisper; what were the odds that anyone back home—let alone anyone here on Balder—could even remotely understand what Link was trying to do?!

So no: the stone cold truth would get him nowhere. Time to follow Rivali's example, and mix the facts with something...less than true.

"I want to join them." Link stated. The short hesitation between the sentences seemed more like he was trying to judge Asriel's reaction; at least, more than just trying to come up with a lie right on the spot.

"I heard they don't accept recruits my age. I wanted to see if you could help me...prove that I'd be a special exception."

It was a slow start, but now that he'd eeked through the first stanza, the second came easier.

"You said you've been on this planet a long time. You would have connections, right? Someone who could get me a few minutes with Commander Kiririun. Kiryoon? Kiri.."

Link's voice fell to a mumble as he struggled to recall the name that vendor by the city's inner wall had told him...

edited 10th Apr '18 11:05:49 AM by TheodoreHastings

Little Dreemurr's Orphanage

"Kiryuin?"

Truth is that he probably knows his supplier and distributor Satsuki Kiryuin better then most, and while a close connection wouldn't be how he can describe their relationship, he likely can get an audience with her if he tried.

The problem is that he is not sure if now is a good time for Link to be joining what is essentially the military. Even if his is a capable fighter from what he's seen and been told, he doesn't think letting a confused 16 year old unfamiliar environment throw himself into danger is a responsible decision on anyone's part. True a similar incident happen sometime ago with Nier and Yonah, but the difference is that Nier spent more time on Balder before his decision to join the Fusiliers to support himself and his sister. Link has been here less then a week and knows little on what is outside the inner walls. If he was assigned to city center maybe it could work out, but still...

"Well... if she has the spare time I can get you to meet her, but it might be hard to convince her to let you join. Also, are you sure that's what you want? I mean, you've only just got here and I know you can handle yourself, but it's a different world out there, and I don't want you to get hurt..."

edited 10th Apr '18 11:53:56 PM by goldenshark

Capitol building - Commander's office

If Satsuki took offense to her new adjutant's stammering, she didn't show it, her expression as cool as ever as she led the way down another corridor.

"Apologies are air, Corporal Andressa," She replied, not turning around, although her voice did soften somewhat as she added, "but as this is your first day, I will accept it. Your punctuality is expected from this point onward, however."

Rounding the corner and striding down the last short hallway leading up to her offices, Satsuki caught sight of a figure in burnished metal and bone making her reception area seem cramped. Jengbish's presence was not a surprise. Even if she hadn't been expecting him, the man left a... presence in his wake that was hard to miss.

"General." She returned his salute with her own, a slight smile crinkling the corners of her eyes as she glanced at the vase, and continued on towards the big double-doors leading into her office. Pausing for a moment, she turned to Andressa, who would see that a desk had been set up in the reception room with her name on a little plaque. "Corporal, summarise the night shift's reports and bring it to me when we're done."

Satsuki's office was a relatively spartan affair, compared to the outer reception area. It was dominated by her desk, placed in front of the far wall, expansive but simply designed with a purple-tinged wood that marked it out as locally made. A computer terminal sat closed and powered down to one side of the polished surface, and a small framed photograph of young pale-skinned girl sat on the other, flanking a writing pad and other various tools of clerical warfare.

As for the rest of the room - a bench and some shelves running along the left-hand wall, a pair of couches against the right. Behind the desk, a set of ornately-framed floor-to-ceiling windows opening onto a small balcony, looking out over the capitol building's main quad, letting the rays of morning sunshine frame the high-backed chair. Perhaps the most ostentatious piece of decoration was the painting, taking up the entire right wall above the couches. In it, young men in khaki coats and Brodie helmets bravely stormed through a rocky tunnel, rifles blazing and bayonets flashing, forcing back a tide of monstrous foes. The Fusiliers, the original Royal Scots Fusiliers, during the great Chimeric Purge.

Striding across the polished floor, Satsuki leaned her sheathed sword against her desk and lowered herself into her chair, folding one leg over the other and her hands in her lap, looking up at the General who had surely followed her inside.

"Your report?"

edited 12th Apr '18 4:50:53 PM by LittleMako

Okuyasu Nijimura - Eastern Gates

-Okuyasu put his hands in his pockets, following close behind Laura. The Hand followed behind, throwing up the "all-clear signal", one out of two needed.-

"Hey, at least we were here!"

-Okuyasu chuckled confidently.-

"But hey, at the end of the day, she's right. If we weren't here, the Pincae wouldn't be the ones dead."

edited 11th Apr '18 9:41:25 AM by DefRevenge24601