Misty Peak

[Misujage]

"reмeмвer тнaт a ѕword нeld вy ѕoмeone wнo ιѕ aвoυт тo dιe… wιll never вe aвle тo proтecт anyтнιng."

Void. Something here that means a completely empty space. That was what Guinevere was in, as she was cleansed. As she was treated. She remained in a void. She did not dream as she was, still she could see a figure of herself within her mind. Darkened by the blackness, here she was here. Yet she was not present within this darkened land. She would remain like this for however long it took to awaken. A peacefulness, a place where there was no pain of her body. No weakening of her spirit. No deterioration of her mind. The things that were present in this darkness, was her and then not her. A portion of her, that was left to the dark, but nothing was left there at all. An ease of shadow from her cast on the blackened sands. No, there was no sand, no light in the pitch black of night. Even the silver moon had retreated to its shell. Wait. No moon, the moon had abandoned them. There was never a moon. There were no sands to speak, but who spoke of them. She failed in this regard. There was no failure in the Void. So she succeeded, there could be none of that either. So the thing that left her shadow to the darkness. No shadow, for the dark was all this world ever knew. Then how, pray tell did she see herself within the void. Alas, it was not her she did see, but a vision. A sight of those whom pierced the veil of darkness. Who called the Void their home, that which hung over death like siblings. Easing spirits to be their feast. They hovered over her, for she could not escape. She could not escape for she did not exist. Here in the void she was nothing. To nothing and from nothing is all she would ever know. Nothing did not exist here. Something had to exist then. Alas, something did, and to nothing it would lead.

Here they come.

"Tell me dear wolf ... what do you see ..."

"A feast, fresh. No, it's rottened! This is not the scent of death."

"Wolf? ..." *huff* "I see water!" "They're called tears ..."

Something.

Light broke through the darkness, Here she stood, like a flower in the dawn. At the crest of prairie. She could see sun break the dark blue sky and bring her into the day. She walked towards it, in a field of flowers. She felt the warm wind embrace her body before she was completely drowned by light.

"Her song sounds good." "The singer mistakes melody for substance ..."

She turned her head, for the first time hearing the voices of the two who bickered with her. She saw a fluffy creature with a mask shaped like a wolf eyeing her with celestial bow in hand. Beside her, the shadowy cloak of a beast. Something to devour rotten corpses and carcasses. They seemed disappointed to see her go. As hands grasped her, their chimes would lead her back from this place to a fate far more melancholy. Gasp. Young Guinevere and awaken, look into the shattered ceiling where she had been before. Someone had moved her to the counter top, she could feel the soothing of her injuries and the unrelenting pain of the others. Nothing was broken, but she hadn't moved much. There was no real way to determine the extent of her injuries. The cold mesh of ingredients that crafted the poultice on her bruises brought the woman comfort. Swelling had reduced considerably around her head. Perhaps that was why she could finally awake, before the wolf and lamb had claimed her for their own.

"Hello ..." She could only see upward, maybe because she didn't bother to turn her head. Shift, her head slammed into the counter looking out the door. The destroyed front door, she teared up again. Unable to look at the ground where the boy's body could have still been or even his blood. Who knew how long the woman was out for, but this sight brought the memories flickering back to her. She laid there like that for a few moments, letting the images of the battle flood back into her. And as those memories funneled into the ravine of her mind. Would they clear Niagara falls in such splendor. Her eyes but a waterfall that no man could have envisioned for themselves. Because this was beauty, the beauty of human suffering.

"a caѕтle тнaт vanιѕнeѕ aт тнe ғιrѕт gυѕт oғ wιnd ιѕ worтнleѕѕ. a ѕĸyѕcraper wιтнιn yoυr мιnd wιll never ғall down."

North Lotus

wisyuu

 

[wisyuu]

x

ғ ʀ ᴀ ᴄ ᴛ ɪ ᴏ ɴx❖xʟᴏɴᴇʀ xxʀ ᴏ ʟ ᴇx❖xᴍᴇʀᴄʜᴀɴᴛxxʟ ᴏ ᴄ ᴀ ᴛ ɪ ᴏ ɴx❖xɴᴏʀᴛʜ ʙʟᴜᴇ

In the act of tending to the woman's wounds, a certain chill fell upon the merchant. His hands were
cool to the touch. They smelled of pungent herbs that he had bartered from another trader in a
far off town. Nimble digits toyed with the lingering paste that stuck to the spaces between his
battered nails. Green mixed with the ruddy hues of yellow keratin and grey ash from his pipe.
There was a certain calm that had befallen the town in lieu of the violence that happened not
long ago. It was as if all sound had been taken from the surrounding area, leaving a dim
blanket which muffled breathing, hushed voices, and put even his creaking wooden box into
a deep slumber. Rune recalled once while exchanging stories with an old woman in a busy
bazaar on an overcast afternoon how if such an occurrence happened, whether be it by
snow or by some other means that one should cover their ears, or start a conversation, lest
they be "eaten". He chuckled at the motion as he took another puff of his tobacco. Surely,
such a thing wasn't possible however at times he found himself aware of the lack of sound
and by habit would cup his hand to one ear. The rhapsody of muscles churning beneath
his skin like lava beneath the crust of the world set his mind at ease, even when the image
of the hag, covered in her colorful shawls of crimson, brown, jade, and gold, came to mind.
The cloying scent of yellow rose incense hung in the air as a small stick of it burned quietly
on the counter. Silver eyes fell upon the woman which rested fretfully. Her slumber was marked
by grunts, frowns, and an occasional whimper, not that he could blame her. Certainly whatever
she encountered here was not a pleasant to be sure. His gaze wandered to the corpse of the child.
A sigh left him as he inspected the corpse from afar. The bones of human children fetched
a decent price in the dark markets which he frequented, particularly the skulls for some
morbid reason though he did not like to question the reasoning of his customers. Given
the state of the body, he wouldn't be able to sell much. Such was the drawback of children.
If their bodies were not carefully tended to after death,and immediately at that they were of
lesser value than what it took to tend to their numerous needs. Their bones lacked the density
that adult skeletons had. They were flimsy, and prone to spoilage. While he lamented at the
loss of a potential profit, he saw other means at which he could pocket a few more coins.

His eyes lingered upon the woman before they wandered and rested upon the man whom
rested soundly beside the spillage of magenta locks. Had the place not been littered with
the bodies of the dead, and destroyed beyond reasonable repair, anyone would have
thought that the two were but a couple, traveling together, though he doubted they were.
“Can you...fix her…? She doesn’t...d-deserve to...die…” he recalled the combatant murmuring
to him before he fell into the abyss of unconsciousness. While he did inspect the man,
Rune found no outstanding injuries that would warrant the need extreme care,
however he did see various cuts and bruises which he tended to with his poultices, which
were in fact not cheap in their own right given the herbs he had used. In fact he had hoped
the man had sustained injuries that would have allowed him excuse to take the blade
he carried. In the state that the swordsman was in, he was but a babe, blissfully
unaware if Rune had chosen to take his knife and slit his throat, but Rune stayed
his hand. He was no thief to the living, only to the dead which had no use of their
worldly things. Like the mushrooms and funguses of the forest, he fed off of death.

"You couldn't fight back even if you wanted to," he scoffed. A yellowing grin
blessed the darkening room as Rune took yet another puff of the intoxicating drug.

The black-and-white haired merchant rose from his position beside the pair and
beckoned the elderly couple from their labors of cleaning the destruction wrought
on their tiny hovel. With gentle hands they wrapped the body of the child in cloth
and set it aside. Crimson dyed the fabric where blood made contact with the blanket.
The bodies of the ruffians, meanwhile through the collective effort of the couple and
Rune himself, were dragged slowly but surely to where their other comrades had perished
in the streets. Piled unceremoniously as though they were but feed for animals, Rune
shuffled through the pockets of the dead ruffians, collecting what coin or valuables he
could find amidst the smell of defecation and urine. Much was left to be desired by the time
the gravedigger had sifted through the bodies of the fallen. Aside from their crude weapons,
the bandits had very little to offer. He suspected that they would soon be put to flame. Pity,
he tended to favor the rugged type, though he preferred more the ones that were alive.
The merchant returned to the ruined restaurant with spoils in hand. In the very moment
he set to stow away the weapons, a voice, which did not belong to either of the elderly
individuals, called out from the din. The woman, awoken from slumber, fresh tears beset
her haggard visage.

"Hello..." she called without specific regard to whom she was addressing.

Like dew upon a virgin blade of grass, water as bitter as the sea trickled from lavender
eyes, beset with emotions which he could only guess but never fathom. A sigh left him.

"Hello," he replied dryly. He abstained from further comment, for he knew that
the cold silence which followed suit was surely to be far crueler than whatever
he had in mind. Words could not justify the actions which took place in the tiny shithole,
and so he did the next best thing and helped himself to the kitchen. Herbs steeped in
hot water would be the only solace he could give her as the mist continued to grey their world.





Misujage


North Lotus

 

[North Lotus]

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ { J U D G E } ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤
Galan Drace || Swordsman x Gladiator || Pirate || Fruit [---] || 20,000
Str: 5 || End: 5 || Spd: 5 || Acc: 5 || Int: 5 || Spi: 0
╔════════════════════════════════════════════╗

[ Finally things had come to peace. Even though the situation was indeed brief, for such a small amount of time, a tragic amount of fairly terrible things took place. Despite this, everything resolved, and at least a single positive came out of it. The people of this locale are free, at least for the time being. No longer will they be oppressed and ruled by the bandits from the mountain. This alone helps ease Galand’s current state. Yes, the swordsman who so embarrassingly failed to protect even a single person in this building, can feel ease knowing that he held such a minuscule part in the liberation of this soupery and the town around it. His limp motionless body rests against a wall next to Guinevere and the older couple. Though he didn’t take anywhere close to as much damage as the woman, he was shaken up quite a bit from what he did endure.

So now he rests. Rests, and dreams, in the safety of his mind. Away from the shame and guilt of his weakness, or so he wished. Within his subconsciousness he hovers in sleep, hovering in place with nothing around him but pitch black. Though it remained this way for a time, eventually the echoing of something rings off in the distance. With each ring it gets closer, until finally its melody can be made out. A bell. That is surely what it is, without a shadow of a doubt. There can be no mistake, and yet, the sound it’s making comes off...wrong. Almost alien. Otherworldly even. Once the sound gets just loud enough Galand’s subconscious body awakens. First fingers twitch, and then his eyes peel open ever slightly. Once he finally comes to he notices that first he cannot see. Try as he might to blink, there is nothing but darkness surround him from sky to beneath. Next he tries to move, but finds this to be an impossible task as well, as his body feels as though it's being bounded by some kind of outside interference. Is he chained or wrapped up? He cannot tell. Whatever it is, he cannot feel it, or anything, for that matter.

Finally, he tries to speak out, to call for help, or ask if anyone at all is around, but alas, this too is taken from him. His voice doesn’t come out. No sound. After realizes he has no way of escaping this strange predicament, a vile near putrid-like sickening feeling bubbling in his chest. He can only recall one time when he has felt something of this degree. It was back on Minion Island, when that phantom like blur appeared before him ever so briefly. That same dreadful skin crawling feeling in his guts begging him to flee. To follow his natural instincts and run away at all costs. Just like then, he’s unable to do anything, and just like last time a strange light shines above him. It breaches the darkness, leaving only cracks of light and falling, shimmering fragments of what appears to be some kind of glass-like material. Soon the cracks part ways until a morbid nigh alien-like hole appears.

The swordsman’s eyes widen as he is forced to watch on at this strange spectacle. Following the hole an intense pressure slams down, causing the man even further need to feel distressed. A frown takes his face as he tries so hard to get his body to obey. If, at any point it doesn’t want to listen, fine, but this one time he NEEDS it to let him move. He HAS to! Finally, after roaring out and struggling with all of his might, his body listens. Galand drops down from hovering, landing hard on his back allowing him to roll backwards, plant his hands on whatever this floor substance is, and push himself out of dodge. After gliding through the air from his push a bit, he comes to a sliding halt before looking back up at the strange hole. “What is going on…? What happened to the shop, and just where the hell am I…?” No sound. So he still can’t speak, but that is without a doubt what he meant to say out loud. As he stands back tall, he watches the hole as he begins to pulsate and vibrate as if alive.

As if it were reacting to the man’s sudden movements. From its depth strangely shaped tentacles worm their way outwards, dancing about in such an eerie way chills run up and down Galand’s spine. The mere image of these things makes him uneasy. Just when he was beginning to hope it wouldn’t get any worse than it already is, the tentacles all straighten out before going into a daze of waves followed by spinning around the obscure hole of their origin in a gyro like manner. After a few seconds a bulbous shaped object sticks out and something strange, flickering in and out of view fires out and crashes on the darkness before the swordsman. Galand reaches for his katana, but it isn’t there. He grabs, and grabs. He knows for a fact he had it, so then, where is it?! “Dammit all. Fine then, if you’re going to come…” he threatens while getting into a fighting stance knowing full well he isn’t much use without his katana.

The mass of translucent flickering gelatin that fell from the hole suddenly stretches up tall as if trying to reach its entryway and escape, but instead begins to whir and tilt from side to side. An alien-esque screams lets out from the lifeform almost as if a whale and some harmonious existence sang in tune. With it, the song of the bell from before plays, as if it were all a single chorus, and to be honest, it’s absolutely beautiful. From the song stands the reason why his guard drops. He can only listen in awe as the figure dances its form about before it seemingly splits itself and ‘blooms’ reminiscent of a flower. Its split portions all dive into its center and a cage like structure is form. Within are two smaller variations of the larger mass, like jellyfish dancing about. The two move above and one suddenly sinks deeper and deeper into the object. Galand’s head tilts as he thinks harder now. “Is it...trying to show me something…?” he asks himself before taking a step closer, pausing in hesitation, and continue getting closer.

Once he stands before the flickering existence, it whirs louder now as it bends itself down to Galand’s trivial height like a rainbow. “Are you trying to tell me something…? What is it?” he asks. The creature’s tendrils stretch out from its form while covering its face and twirling this way and that, as if embarrassed or trying to hide its expression. Finally it takes back in all of its loose portions, spins, and shoots back up through the hole leaving the visage of a young girl behind. The girls grabs the brim of her hat and covers up the top half of her face with a smile. As quickly as she had come, as vague as her appearance is, she flickers before vanishing. Above, the portal once more begins to pulsate and vibrate before slamming shut, ringing once more with the sound of the bell. With each chime, the man’s consciousness fades, until finally, he sleeps again. His body falls backwards, and just as the beginning, he floats. Sleeping, dreaming. Some few hours pass, and Galand comes to, but this time, in the real world.

His eyes creep open, so that he might take note of the new bandages and fixtures about his body. He was healed, but, by who? His right hand lifts to grasp his face. With a groggy shake, he looks around to his surroundings. “I’m back…” he remarks, noticing he’s back in Whiskey Peak’s Dango Soupery. Or what’s left of it. With a pained grunt he sits himself forward, but the pain causes him to grab his abs, where the wood had plunged into him. Nothing deep, however. He was spared. The shop owner turns over to him and happily calls out. “O-Oh? Ohhhh! Boy! You’re awake! Ma, come back in here! The kids are waking up!” he says with glee. The sound of a pan can be heard clanging on the ground before a short older lady rushes from the kitchen area covered in dust. A few other towns people, who apparently came to help with the recovery efforts, stand up from their positions of work, and walk over to surround Galand, Guinevere, and the mysterious unnamed savior Rune.

The old lady grabs hold of Galand’s hand, and with the other, Guin’s. Tears run down her face while she falls to her knees with an exhausted look of relief. “Thank you…! Thank you so much! Gods have mercy! Thank you are living!” she cries out with a hung head. With a heart full of life and joy, the shop owner personally walks up to Rune and places a hand on his shoulder. “With no small thanks to you, lad! You saved our heroes! You’re just as important as any!” he comments, and to be fair, speaking the truth. There is no telling what condition the two would be in had it not been for this random traveler. Then, as if planned, one man claps. Then another, and soon the whole crowd inside and out the building begins to clap and cheer. No matter what happened in between, they were simply happy that now they are FREE, and even better, their saviors are alive so that they may be thanked in person! Everyone all around celebrates in the midst of so many different emotions, but all Galand can think of are the things he failed to actually save. What had he even done to deserve this praise. As far as he’s concerned, Guinevere did a lot more than he.

“I don’t...deserve this, haha. Really, you guys are too much.” he says while stumbling to stand himself up, using his back up against the wall as a brace. “What can we ever do to repay you?! Name it!” one man calls out from the crowd. The swordsman walks over to the counter where his partner rests atop and grips his chest as he looks down on her with a pained smile. “Hear that? L-Looks like, your best was good enough.” he says, referring to her comment of simply having to try her best. At the end of the day, it worked out. Every action she took lead to the results they have now. Each and every second used provided the perfect setup for this ending. With a heavy huff, the man turns his head to Rune and smirks a bit. “And you. More than anybody, I gotta thank you. Not only did you take out that gorrilla of a man, but you also saved this one. You're one hell of a guy.” he comments before tapping Guin on the forehead carefully. Really, island by island, he keeps meeting incredible people. It’s crazy.

With that out of the way, he can finally answer the guy from the crowd’s question. Galand limps over with one hand pressed against his abs over to the other side of the counter, and picks up a bowl. After kneeling to pick it up, he stands and turns to the old restaurant owners. “Oi, jiji. I wanna try that ramen again. That’s what I want.” he says with a smile. He wouldn’t ask for money or other material things. A good meal to warm up his body would due. That’s all he needs. His eyes shift to Guinevere now, then to Rune. “Wanna share? It’s really good you know.” The crowd stands in silence before bursting out into laughter. “That’s it?! Ramen?! These guys are the greatest! Any other guy would ask for money or supplies, but I guess his stomach is more important!” While not necessarily true, he wouldn’t dispute it. These people have had enough taken from him, and hey, after all of that struggling, maybe he is a bit famished. ]

╚════════════════════════════════════════════╝
Words in Post: 2,020 || Uncashed Words: --- || Uncashed EXP: --- || Cashed EXP: --- || Rank: ---

IC Notes: ---
Credit: Format base by Fauna Lestrade.

Misujage

wisyuu

 

[Misujage]

"reмeмвer тнaт a ѕword нeld вy ѕoмeone wнo ιѕ aвoυт тo dιe… wιll never вe aвle тo proтecт anyтнιng."

The voice that responded to her was not familiar. Still she would not bother to look in his direction. Her tunneled vision broke to see there were actually people between her and the door. Perhaps she had only envisioned a bloody scene from before. Her eyes shifted about the room, watching those whom watched her. Cleaning up the debris from the store. Not wanting to disturb their heroes, or let them wake up to a large amount of mess. Her crying eyes softened into anguish, so they had just wiped him clean. Morbid to think that she would still want his blood to be there. To see his mangled corpse, the very ideal disgusted her to the core. However, the same held true for the opposition. That he could be wiped away, cleaned and his memory tarnished for it. She could feel disgust in her mind for that as well. A child barely old enough to know anything of life, had his taken so abruptly. Because a foolish woman, and a foolish man, thought they were quite capable of fending off a pack of bandits. It should have been her, why could they not have taken her and left the child. Someone had to miss him, someone had to care their little boy was never going to come home. Never to see his face again, never to hear the sound of his voice. His joy was taken out by malice. His smile torn down by darkness, teeth stained black. A shade of corruption. A hand pressed to her own was all that could draw her out of her own torment. Shifting her head down ward so that her hair fell over her face. Covering the tear drops from view. Speak older woman, and bring joy.

"We ruined everything." She spoke only loud enough for herself to hear. She didn't want the thanks, this feeling in the pit of her stomach. Compiling further agony on top of pain. She could not count this a victory, oh how naive she was in this cruel world. To focus on losses instead of victories, this she was not accustomed to. The lavish life style of an heiress. Smart enough to not be dumb, beautiful enough to make a perfect wife. Families married into families for generations, odd that somehow there were bloodlines unconnected. Who knew how they sprung that trap. Still, the sheltered life of someone rich could never know this pain. The pain of reality that she wore on her stunk, suffocating almost. She was certain, this scent only she could perceive, would end the entirety of her life. Her shoulders shook, finally shifting her head to the opposing side of the counter. Taking into view the man whom had aided her. He was working on something, who knew what, but apparently this was whom she could thank for healing her injuries.

Hands. Touching Hands.

She pressed them to her eyes, blocking out the light at the congratulations. Maybe they thought her eyes were filled with cries of joy. Fitted to be joyous at her own survival. If only they knew she wanted to be dead, to give her life in exchange of the boy whom had been taken. She was woe torn, a small spur of coughs coming from her cries. Audible, but not loud enough to cause concern. She was just so happy, right. Hands only parting enough to see the visage of Galand as she leaned over her. "I failed." She mouthed with heavy lips. A phrase here that means she was barely able to word them, let alone release the two words from the depths of her clogged throat. Always crying young Guinevere, you were always too frail for this world. Is this why you wanted to be stronger, to stomp out your own frailty. No, forgive me, that was my ideal. You wanted to be strong for a different reason. Please, my dearest daughter, press through this. Everything is Blue. Her hands ran up along the length of her face to flatten out her hair, eyes visible now as Galand's hand struck her forehead. Huh, for the briefest of moments sadness broke. She glared swiftly, barely hearing what he had to say to this man whose name she did not know. Failing to realize, she didn't know anyone's name. They had failed to introduce themselves. How rude of her, tot he traveler whom had paid for her meal. To the elderly couple whom had been so generous with their business.

Her feet swung over the bar facing toward the door. Lengths of lavender strands danced like fairies upon the wind. Fitting, as it was the only light on this wraith who adorned herself with the name Guinevere. Her melancholy appeal would strike true to those directly around her. Clearly there was no happiness to be had on her visage. Pale, tear ridden, eyes red from death and tears. She sat upon the counter top, her hands to her sides and legs held close together. She would remain, not wanting anything for her trouble. She wanted to pay back the trouble she had caused. The lives lost for what she thought could be beaten with bravery. Courage, a weapon someone weak like her should not have wielded. Much like she should never wield anything else. No, young lady, that was fear talking. Her resolve had shaken underneath her heart. She could feel the beat, but it was faint. Left hand to her chest now, she thought back over the battle. The only bloody battle she had ever been in, and how easy it was for her to kill. Her first kills. Her first kiss. The second person she had vowed to protect was dead, and the first was lost to her in this world of deep flourishing seas. She had went to Karate Island to grow stronger, and she could feel it. She was weaker now than when she had gone there. Sadly, no memory of what had zapped her strength. What disgusting deity had taken away what power she had managed to gather. Who did they give it away to, why her and the obscurity she was able to gain.

The left hand on her heart went up to her hair, as did her right hand that was on the counter top. She pulled her hair down her right shoulder and slowly began to braid the hair towards its end. Letting it rest on her shoulder for her own comfort, all of this hair shifting about maniacally was bound to get to her or someone else. She took in a deep breath, happiness should have been easy in this situation. There was only one death. The death of a child certainly, but it was still just one singular death. The death of someone she had vowed to protect. No one cares that she lied about keeping him safe. Except her, she cared quite a lot. But look at all of the people saved in the process, did anyone imagine those whom had not been saved. Of course they had to, but death was not so heavy. Of course, to see all of your family grow old. Die peacefully in their beds, surrounded by those they loved. Always of old age, never of disease or famine. Not murder or poison, no corruption to be had. There were no short lives in her family. Again, this reality was too cruel.Smile through it Guinevere, find the happiness that everyone here had managed to grasp a hold of. She felt a hand on her left shoulder, turning to see the old woman. Resting her right hand over the woman's older one. She smiled, and the old woman directed Guinevere's eyes to the door as Galand relished in his joy. There, in the light that pierced this darkened ravine of solace.

"He came every day to warn us about the raid, so we could prepare as quickly as possible."

The little boy, the one she had seen dead. Stood in the light, streaks piercing his small body. He raised a hand, smile devouring a large portion of his face. He waved to Guinevere with glee before the light took him and he was gone. "He died in every raid, each time Ilgor killed him with the axe. The first few times we thought it odd. Then we realized, the child, Jerome, was already dead. His mother, Jelani, recognized the child. Having buried him after Ilgor first came to this small town. Jelani was a gypsy, a witch of the wilds some say. She gave her own life that her child's soul did not suffer. That the brutality of his death did not corrupt him. So she tied his essence to those brigands, using her soul as a string. When they perished, his soul was set free." She clung tight to Guinevere's shoulder, letting the young girl exude a smile. Relief, as the particles of the scattered soul turned to fireflies. Joy, this time. The old woman held fast to Guinevere's shoulders. "We do miss him, but he's free now. We have much to celebrate."

"Yeah, I'd love some." Guinevere exclaimed to Galand, her head resting on the older woman's. She missed this, the feeling of being near someone. Close to her elders. Oh! Introduce yourself. "Guinevere, my name is Guinevere."

"a caѕтle тнaт vanιѕнeѕ aт тнe ғιrѕт gυѕт oғ wιnd ιѕ worтнleѕѕ. a ѕĸyѕcraper wιтнιn yoυr мιnd wιll never ғall down."

North Lotus

wisyuu

 

[wisyuu]

x

ғ ʀ ᴀ ᴄ ᴛ ɪ ᴏ ɴx❖xʟᴏɴᴇʀ xxʀ ᴏ ʟ ᴇx❖xᴍᴇʀᴄʜᴀɴᴛxxʟ ᴏ ᴄ ᴀ ᴛ ɪ ᴏ ɴx❖xɴᴏʀᴛʜ ʙʟᴜᴇ

In light of the destruction, several individuals sought to help the elderly couple
in their plight. Normally he wouldn't have partook in the recovery efforts, but he had
been compensated for his services. The gold that he pocketed from the ruffian
felt warm against his body of which grew hot as it toiled against the weight of the
broken pieces of wood and shoddy pottery. Of the debris that survived the event,
they had set it aside in order for the shopkeep to sweep up while the other particles
were taken out, no doubt to be used with other trash in order to be used as fodder
for the pyre that would soon consume the bodies of the bandits. The two which fell
prey to the onslaught had woken, much to the delight of the townsfolk that gathered
to witness the eventual rise of their saviors. Within moments of the two waking,
the entire establishment was in joyous uproar with the sound of clapping. The
cacophony hung heavy in the merchants ears. He was unused to such acclaim
and frankly didn't have the chance to savor the taste of victory whilst in the limelight.
It left him oddly exposed which contrasted to the anonymity he held as a mere merchant.
Such were the repercussions of a plan clearly not thought out in full. With that in
mind, a profit was still in fact a profit. A flash of imagination brought with it silks
of wondrous colors and patterns which awaited him, however the vision was to be
short lived the swordsman approached him with words of congratulations. His eyes
narrowed at the speculation of ridicule. The man did not seem to be adept at mockery
rather seemed to be the type that did not have the capacity for itt. Boisterous.
Hasty to action...and perhaps naive. Rune merely nodded out of courtesy, as he declined the
generous offer to dine with the swordsman. Rune withdrew from peripheral sight to the
battered edges of the counter where he could still keep sight of the festivities, weighing
potential pockets and jewelery of the like, though his prospects seemed dim with the lot he
was presented with. The slums of the most populated kingdoms held more opportunity than
the multitude of dirty rags and aprons that clustered around the two with gay animation.

Though one did not seem to share the sentiment like all the rest, contrariwise
a weight of sadness tinged the otherwise happy occasion. It was almost palpable
as he watched the woman with beady silver eyes as he held onto her emotions
like a beggar waiting for the slightest trickle of water from a well to stave off hunger.
He had seen his fair share of pain, anguish, joy, and revelation. Of the multitude he had
seen, it was likely the former which hung heavy upon the woman as it would his
smoke as he drew lengthy breaths from it's lacquered carapace. RUne marveled
at the immaculacy of human suffering, and how so much emotion followed in the wake
of a single salt water tear. Yet, within a single moment he saw a light fill the eyes which
were only seconds ago were knee deep into the abyss, a fire which danced in the dark
like will o'wisps on the darkest of nights. Determination rather than misery twinkled in the
bitter waters. A smile tugged at the corner of reluctant lips. Initially the merchant had
sought to take what was due to him by means of collecting payment for his herbs
but he sensed that in fact that the trade was more than enough. What he was going
to charge for the man he had collected in the gold that was pilfered from the bandits
as well as their weapons. The woman...the change he witnessed invigorated him
in a way which he had not felt in a long time, a sense of maturity when touched by
the horrors of their s**t filled world. Pure no more. The trade was sufficient. No, rather
in fact, it was more than what was required of the payment. He disliked unequal trades.

Eyes piqued in interest at the story which was known to the inhabitants of the village
except to the three strangers. Tales of witchcraft were not unheard of in the realms which
he frequented in his travels. Tales of horrible wizards plaguing the land with drought,
pestilence, and death, stories about witches with potions that could cure ailments
at a cost were all but familiar to his keen ears. The very idea of preserving the soul,
and even allowing for the once untouchable to become tangible was surely a fascinating
feat to behold. Though he had only the word of the villagers, whom in his experience were
prone to hysteria and tall tales to make fun of their otherwise dull existences,
it was still enough that he would...."investigate" the body when the moon graced the sky.
Until such a time came, he would have to find shelter away from prying eyes and ears.

The festivities, with freedom finally in sight of the villagers, grew to be a grand affair.
Food and other gifts were showered upon the two heros that fought against the brigands.
The matter of the unfulfilled trade left a sour taste upon his tastebuds and the merchant
pondered on the matter. Nothing of material worth which he had at present would satisfy the
gift which the woman had given, abet unknowingly, unto him in the dim restaurant.
What would be of an equivalent price for the feelings which she had spurred within him?
A fortune reading? No, his attempt would be paltry given lack of ingredients at his disposal.
Perhaps a discount to his wares? Highly unlikely she required the shells of mutated beetles,
but like the eventual rise of the dawn, he settled on giving the woman a piece of wisdom
he had heard from his travels as a hatchling. What he had heard, he would pass unto her.
The merchant silently collected his things, but before he turned to leave, he edged closer to
the woman and whispered his words to her in a voice barely above a coarse whisper,
"May the weft and weave of fate guide you, little lamb." His eyes glimmered
with an odd light, one that was not quite mischievous yet not of malicious intent either.
Slightly yellow canines bared themselves as a purr rumbled in Rune's open maw
that stunk of tobacco and lack of proper hygiene. The purr morphed into a chuckle as
he said his final piece, "but beware, everywhere you go, wolves are sure to follow."

And so he left.

[Exit to Lyneel]




'Misujage


'North Lotus

 

[North Lotus]

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ { J U D G E } ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤
Galan Drace || Swordsman x Gladiator || Pirate || Fruit [---] || 20,000
Str: 5 || End: 5 || Spd: 5 || Acc: 5 || Int: 5 || Spi: 0
╔════════════════════════════════════════════╗

[ Everything had come full circle now. With the revelation of the boy’s origin, even Galand couldn’t help but be shaken up from the happiness. He smiles with his head turned, scared Guinevere would see it and tease him, though that probably wouldn’t be the case to begin with. Well at the very least, she accepts his offer for food! The old man watches as the female combatant of the battle rests on his wife’s shoulder, thus opts to prepare the meal for himself. “You kids really saved us, you know. This one’s on the house.” After his words, the crowd simmers down and gets back to their various jobs in cleaning up or fixing the building. It’d take time, but now, they have nothing but time. No longer feeling the restraints of their oppressors, no longer shorting on money due to unlawful taxing. They are free now, and by looking at any of them you could tell how much they realize that fact.

The swordsman rubs the back of his head now, not really sure what he should be doing until the food is done. Sure he and his partner are being hailed as heroes now, but still, he doesn’t feel comfortable standing around not doing anything. That is, until his eyes trail around the room, and stop at Guinevere. That’s when it hits him. Wait! She introduced herself so smoothly he hadn’t really considered the fact that all of this time, they didn’t even know each other’s names! He walks up to her and drops down to the floor with crossed legs. His hands prop on his bent knees, and his eyes firmly stare into hers. Suddenly his expression softens, and he gives her a warm smile, despite his rugged look. “Name’s Galand. I’m from a country of samurai called Wano deep off along the ocean. Despite how rough our first encounter was… It’s good to meet ya, Guin.” he says, cutting her name in two so as to shorten it. Saying her real name would take so long after all.

From his standpoint, however, it’s a rather pretty name. But speaking of pretty, isn’t SHE quite the looker herself? He stares at her features up and down, cuffing a hand around his chin deep in thought. When she first entered the shop, she was injured right? The imaginations of what could have gone down bring her to this off the wall island bothers him deeply. Surely she’s not a local considering her attire. In fact, you’d be hard pressed to find anyone with such designs anywhere near North Blue at all! Soon enough his eyes lock back with hers, and once more he rubs the back of his head. Did she notice his ogling? Hopefully she thinks nothing of it. With a sigh he drops back down with his arms spread out, and his legs stretching out so he can lazily lay on the floor while people work around him. “Hey, sis- I mean, Guin. What’s your story? What lead you to this island anyways, if ya don’t mind me askin’.” he says with a rather bored expression.

His pupils fixate on the hole in the ceiling, with the sunshine filtering around perfectly around he and the woman. “If you ask me, it’s strange to find someone like you out alone traveling in these parts. Teasure huntin’?” he pries further. ]

╚════════════════════════════════════════════╝
Words in Post: 562 || Uncashed Words: --- || Uncashed EXP: --- || Cashed EXP: --- || Rank: ---

IC Notes: ---
Credit: Format base by Fauna Lestrade.

Misujage

 

[Misujage]

"reмeмвer тнaт a ѕword нeld вy ѕoмeone wнo ιѕ aвoυт тo dιe… wιll never вe aвle тo proтecт anyтнιng."

The elderly woman had gone to collect her things, prepare their meals. What have you, anything she could have done. And here, in the breath of Guinevere's injuries she had begun to feel pain sweep back over her. She hadn't slept long enough maybe, or perhaps it was only in joy that she could feel this agony. She looked to the ashen haired man, worn down by circumstance perhaps. He wore experience like a badge of honor, but his words brought her back to the dream she had. No, not a dream, she had not dreamed. She clearly remembered the void she was lost in. It was the waking, as she was awakening she had seen their vision. A fluffy lamb on two legs, adorning the visage of a wolf. Her eyebrows tinged at his breath, but she controlled her face. It was rude to do odd stares, to mock his advice or his person. She attempted a half smile, and again his words brought back her waking. The Wolf whom covered his face with a mask crafted like a lamb. Still, its jaws were agape and salivating. "Words spoil the chase ..." She would speak to herself, a hand to her heart as Rune left. She slid from the counter top. Pausing for a bit to test herself, no this pain was more bearable than whatever she had experienced before. Probably because of proper treatment, and while still hungry she was not starving. Funny, how hard one's body shut down from lack of nourishment.

Odd, wasn't it this man whom had come and gone like a summer's breeze. She had so much to thank him for, but didn't have his name. He had saved her life, possibly all of their lives. She would remember his face for some time to come, as she remembered all faces she had seen. Dwelled on his being the way she would dwell on everything else. Him aside, but not out of mind, she would look to the elderly man. Her first thought, she would find a way to pay him back for the meal. A reward for doing the right thing, for not avoiding a fight she would have been pulled into regardless. No, she was no hero, there was so much lacking in her performance to be garnered as a hero. On the way back her eyes would meet Galand's, and for the first time he would introduce himself. Strange pair these two, the battle would have them known a thousand life times over. But it was in the name they could speak freely. "Of course, hopefully next we meet is under better circumstances." Nervousness in her facial features, crowned with a glistening smile. She wondered why everyone wanted to call her Guin, instead of her real name. Johnny, Aeleus, they all shortened it like that. She had never known this to happen in her life, everyone always spoke to her by full name. Guinevere, it was Guinevere, but only her virtue was something she could speak out on. It was the thing men valued the most in a Bride. Whining over her name would leave her in a state to never be married, it was best to let it go. Not that it disturbed her peace in any manner.

"Is something amiss?" The two able to speak freely, the shop keeps were cooking. The towns people were cleaning, she could hear it all, but she chose not to focus on it. She would examine her arms and legs for any tears. No, despite the beating even her clothing was in tact for the most part. Nothing her sewing couldn't fix, no bones were broken. She had moved around enough, she would have noticed it by now. Some pain, not great and not small, but he couldn't possibly have known that. So, what exactly was it that he was looking at. Her hands turned to the ceiling, shoulders doing that half shrug thing and her expression lost in a daze as he spoke. Clearly she heard him, but it was one of those habitual things that took over in her initial response. "Huh?" Confusing lead to a daze, and then pain. Sharp flashes carved into her cerebellum and for a moment her vision went blurry. Her left hand went to her head, frustration wrought her features for that brevity. She didn't know what had brought her here, and until now had not tried to focus on it. She would have to give some kind of story, but she was not one for lying. Her eyes searched for a response in the counter top.

"I don't know." She brought herself to sit, again with that impeccable posture she always had. Her hands back to her lap, she turned her head to face Galand. Just realizing how rude it was to speak with him and not look in his direction. Behave Guinevere, you were raised better than this. "Last I remember, I went to Karate Island to help fulfill a goal. I was with two ...." She didn't really know what to call them. Her eyes slid to the floor in thought, what would she call the two. Even acquaintances seemed to familiar a term for two she just met, especially since she did not know the other man's name. Saying men sounded scandalous, and that was not the correct term for the encounter. Others was too disrespectful, it dehumanized the two she had met. Each a bundle of character in their own right. However, the stoic one, the man whom had inquired of her identity. He had seemed curious much like Galand. Did she seem so out of place for the Pirate world? Guinevere had seen plenty a beautiful woman, she was sure she had found a way to fit in. "people. I was with two people on Karate Island. We had a less than joyful exchange, but they had aided me so I thought nothing of it. Last I remember, I stepped between the two of them to leave. That is my last memory, and while I can not say they were my assailants. I can also not say they were not. When I awoke, I was on my boat heading for this land. I was lost, perhaps mildly delusional. With nowhere else to go, I followed the path before me and here I am." The story weighed heavily on her eyes, each word sinking into her pristine lashes and weighing down the lids. This gap of time lost to her, she had forgotten until now, but she would have to find out what happened. Which means she would have to find Johnny, and learn if he knew what happens. But as with all things, it came in time.

"a caѕтle тнaт vanιѕнeѕ aт тнe ғιrѕт gυѕт oғ wιnd ιѕ worтнleѕѕ. a ѕĸyѕcraper wιтнιn yoυr мιnd wιll never ғall down."

North Lotus

wisyuu

 

[North Lotus]

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ { J U D G E } ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤
Galan Drace || Swordsman x Gladiator || Pirate || Fruit [---] || 20,000
Str: 5 || End: 5 || Spd: 5 || Acc: 5 || Int: 5 || Spi: 0
╔════════════════════════════════════════════╗

[ From the sound of things, this woman just can’t get any kind of luck on these seas. Jumped by people, supposedly, then washed to a location she has little knowledge of, then beaten in said location… Ouch. Galand’s overall expression never changes from bored as he listens to her short tale. It’s a very unfortunate story for sure, and quite frankly he’s curious to learn more about her. But for now, he’d keep it cool. “So, you basically have no memory of what happened back then. That really sucks.” he says before shifting his hands behind his head to cushion it from the floor board. The smell of blood still faintly lingers in the air, and the sound of wood and hammers echoes throughout the small village. People come and go as they can, helping out during their free time. Children run by the open hole of a front entry way, playing their hearts out for the first time in forever, given the chance for once with Ilgor and his bandits officially shut down for good. The sight is enough to rattle the warmed hearts of the adults.

Finally their youth has a real chance at life, and they couldn’t be any more happy. While he stares up to the ceiling, the smell of food causes the shaggy haired man to immediately sit up. “Somethin’ is smelling great, old man” he remarks, admittedly a bit excited. His fuel tanks had run rather low since the fight and recovery. Though this wouldn’t be the most healthy of meals, Galand couldn’t care less right now. Shop Owner Golf and his wife Puck share the burden in carrying a massive bowl of their most famous dish, the Multi-Flavored Dango Ramen Supreme behind Guinevere on the counter, placing a pair of chopsticks on both sides of the massive bowled meal. Galand rolls backwards before lunging himself upwards with his hands, ultimately landing on his feet. “Holy crap! Is this seriously for us? It’s massive!” he says in his excitement. To him, this might as well be a five star meal. Golf rubs the back of his balding head and chuckles a bit in embarrassment.

“W-Well, it’s unfortunate but, this is all we can offer you. You’ll both have to share, since, most of our other dishes and equipment was destroyed during the raid… I apologize!” he exclaims, but Galand would hear nothing of it! He walks up next to Guinevere with his left hand pocketed as he wraps the other around her shoulder and leans down a bit so their heads are side by side, mostly anyways. “No problem, jiji! Me and Guin here are battle buddies now! Somethin’ like sharin’ a meal is no big deal, right, partner?” he asks before removing his arm and dropping down next to the woman while grabbing hold of the chopsticks on his side. “Thank you for the meal!” he calls out, forcing some of the onlookers to laugh out. The famished swordsman starts to dig in right away, wrapping a near ball of noodles around the end of his chopsticks and lifting it above his mouth before slurping them in.

“So hey, Guin. Those people you told me about. You plannin’ on lookin’ for em after this? What happens next?” he questions after swallowing the food in his mouth. ]

╚════════════════════════════════════════════╝
Words in Post: 553 || Uncashed Words: --- || Uncashed EXP: --- || Cashed EXP: --- || Rank: ---

IC Notes: ---
Credit: Format base by Fauna Lestrade.

Misujage

 

[Misujage]

"reмeмвer тнaт a ѕword нeld вy ѕoмeone wнo ιѕ aвoυт тo dιe… wιll never вe aвle тo proтecт anyтнιng."

It worried her, but not as much as she felt it should have. She had no weapons and very little money. No, a bit more than a little, but not something she could not have made back. Regardless her face was a bit somber. Curling in her lip in thought. "Yeah, Sucks." She wasn't sure that was the kind of word was in her repertoire. She would use it now to save from having to think of her own words. To evade dwelling on the situation and from it crafting the perfect response. As she did with most things. She spun in the chair to view the outside world, the motion of people preparing for a new dawn. A new episode in their life, one they had needed for so very long. Yes, this would be just like that. She had been set back, far beyond her natural standings. Yet still, she was sure she would continue to push onward. To rebuild the portions of her that was destroyed, stronger than before. One step at a time, one board and one hammer. One solitary nail, the ideal brought a smile back to her face. There was nothing she cherished more than people. Her own strength was not enough, this was proof of that. Aeleus was proof of that, but it seemed the winds that Enoch had blown over her would not let her falter so easily. The old man still had to be found and returned to Aeleus at some point, and she was far off from recovering him. If he was even somewhere to be recovered.

A small child had run into Guinevere's legs, smaller than most but old enough to some what be on their own. Guinevere extended a hand downward, letting the small child grasp her finger. Waving their arm back and forth a bit, Guinevere would release a lighthearted chuckle at the amusement on the child's face. Her mother rushed over soon after. "I'm sorry about that, she just likes to meet new people." Again, a laugh from Guinevere's gullet as she responded. "Oh, it's no problem. We were all young once, with beautiful eyes that saw the good in all." Her finger was still in the child's grasp as the young babe was hoisted up. Only releasing the grip once she was pulled far enough away. Looking beyond the door way the mother headed to, she could see a cluster of young men and women peaking in every so often. Huh? What were they looking at? Was something amiss? Maybe there was something that they and Galand saw that she could not. She started to scan herself before being startled. She froze, a shiver up her spine at the sound of something hefty striking the counter top behind her. She spun her head about to see an immaculately sized bowl and stared for a moment. There ... there was only one bowl. Of course, being who she truly was, large feasts and meals were no stranger to her. They didn't end up eating most of the food and just tossed the rest into the trash. So it was not the size that deterred her, but rather ... well, was she expected to eat out of the same bowl as someone else?

"Y-yes, it is quite enormous." A bit nervous, maybe someone would attribute her discomfort to the size of the meal. It was immaculate, still she couldn't see herself eating out of the same bowl. And after they had used their lash dish to prepare it, she couldn't really turn it down. Saying she was not hungry would be the worst, especially since it was a lie. She would have to go with the truth she supposed. Eating from it when clearly she was against it would also be a lie. A lie to herself and to the people whom prepared it. Assured as she was it was delicious, her facial expressions would give away her true intent. That she could not stomach such an action. As much as she did not want to offend, her own morals took precedence. "I am truly apologetic, but I will have to pass. For my own reasons. Truly, I am grateful." Apologetically she would kneel her head, the slow rumble of her stomach betrayed her. Clearly the young woman was hungry, but she was simply not that kind of person. She had to work on herself one step at a time, and at least for now she had to stamp out weakness. Her morals would take a back seat to no action, and would not change without experience. "Forgive me Galand, but I can not bring myself to partake in this meal with you." Regret hung on her face, or maybe it was just how weary she was. The broth could hold her over for a bit longer, but not for much. She would not put the people out by asking for something else. That would be rude, and an abuse of the status the cheery villagers had granted her.

She ruined the mood, didn't she, she dared not to look at those whom had celebrated her. Refusing their meal was an awful thing. "Yes, Galand, I think I will search for them." And she was thinking maybe now was the time. Her rudeness knew no bounds in this matter, she focused solely on a portion of the counter beneath the large bowl. Silence befell her, she felt eyes upon her.

"a caѕтle тнaт vanιѕнeѕ aт тнe ғιrѕт gυѕт oғ wιnd ιѕ worтнleѕѕ. a ѕĸyѕcraper wιтнιn yoυr мιnd wιll never ғall down."

North Lotus

 

[North Lotus]

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ { J U D G E } ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤
Galan Drace || Swordsman || Pirate || Fruit [---] || 20,000
Str: 5 || End: 5 || Spd: 5 || Acc: 5 || Int: 5 || Spi: 0
╔════════════════════════════════════════════╗

[ After having the food rejected by Guinevere, he makes a face somewhere in between confusion and surprise. Wasn’t she hungry? She would be after everything they went through, right? So what could possibly be the problem? He contemplates this until a child trots up to the counter and presses his little hands against the corner so he can elevate himself and get a peek. His eyes glow at the sight of the large bowl filled to the brim with all kinds of ramen goodies, and his stomach growls equally showcasing his desire to dig in. “M-Mr, if she doesn’t want it, can I have some?!” he asks while other kids run up to more or less copy him. Galand notices how troubled the woman seems to be from her rejection, and after a few seconds more of thinking he finally comes to a conclusion. “Oho, now I see. If it’s her, then…” he thinks to himself before getting up from his seat at the booth, allowing for the first kid of hop up.

“Haha, geez, Guin! You should have just said so from the start! Your injuries were pretty bad after all. You probably can’t safely eat anything right now, yeah? I get it, I get it. Well in that case, we’ll just have to let these kids have it!” he exclaims, speaking loud enough for the crowd of people to clearly hear the explanation. With a collective oh, the townsfolk smile and get back to their chores, having no further reason to pry. The old couple give their condolences and move on to help with the clean up effort, leaving Galand and Guinevere alone to the side. Well, not including the children happily eating from the large bowl. The swordsman slowly walks over before turning and dropping onto the seat next to Guin with his elbows and back on the counter. His eyes stare towards the doorway where people walk in and out, carrying various goods here and there. “So about those friends of yours. I hope you can find them.” he starts before tilting his head back and staring at her with a warm smile.

“Me, I’m going to get stronger, so the next time we meet, I can show you and your friends just how amazing I can really be. I have to get better, so I can make my dream a reality. One day, I want to save this world from its current state...and to do that, I’ll have to make sure I get as strong as possible.” he finishes while turning his head back forward and tilting forward. The kids messily eat while listening to him, thinking about how he could be a superhero one day. The look at Galand, and then each other before laughing in joy. After standing himself up, he places his hands on his hips and sighs. “But first, I’ll have to be finding some strong allies.” he turns to look over his shoulder and smirks to Guinevere. “You get stronger too, yeah?” he says in a calmed tone, as if he put all of his passion to rest. ]

╚════════════════════════════════════════════╝
Words in Post: 519 || Uncashed Words: --- || Uncashed EXP: --- || Cashed EXP: --- || Rank: ---

IC Notes: ---
Credit: Format base by Fauna Lestrade.

Misujage

 

[Misujage]

"reмeмвer тнaт a ѕword нeld вy ѕoмeone wнo ιѕ aвoυт тo dιe… wιll never вe aвle тo proтecт anyтнιng."

Divert your eyes. She searched for other things to look at, even from just Galand she felt awkward about the entire situation. Then the looks from the man and woman, ungrateful, spoiled. There were people starving, and here she was acting like she was too good to eat after someone else. Even the small children who ran up to Galand had no issues with asking to partake in the large sized meal. Of course, they were probably starving. Long periods of being ransacked probably left their parents destitute. There, the meal would not go to waste. She would raise her head forward, not wanting to look at the children as they asked for the remainder of the meal She had chosen not to eat, no need on dwelling on it. A blow to her pride, such a meaningless thing.

She didn't respond to Galand, because she knew that was a lie. He had to know it was a lie, being able to speak perfectly fine. There should have been no injuries to deter her from eating the meal. She scooted a bit more into the booth, letting two or three children pile in beside her. Digging into the bowl merrily. Her eyes mingled with the wall, a calm washing over her features. The eyes from her rejection, they had begun to shed itself from her epidermis. She felt like she could breathe again. She slid from the opposing side of the booth, easing toward the wall and Galand. Letting the children have the central-esque booth. She leaned against the wall. Fiddling with her fingers. Eyes downward so her bangs covered her eyes. She only watched her hands, she seemed to be a bit dodgy. Only because she could tell she had been somewhat disrespectful. Not that her family would have seen it that way, they would have done the same thing. Albeit in a much ruder way. Still to say, she was just like her family. Politely declining a generous meal was still a decline. No matter how nice you had been about it, you could never shake your roots.

"I don't have any friends ..." She spoke, almost inaudibly as not to disturb the children eating nearby. Especially since she would hate to draw more attention to herself after the spout of rudeness on her part. Her fingers went to playing with the braid that draped over her shoulder. She knew what he meant, and for the sake of obtaining the truth she hoped she could find them too. She felt his eyes on her again, her view shifted to his feet, but soon after she was right back to her hands. Fidgeting in her own weakness, Kaito was right wasn't he. She had called herself weak, and she was. Because she had beat up a few low classed thugs, that didn't make her strong. She had taken me- She had killed a man. Her right hand flung upward toward her mouth. Her eyes swelling up with tears. At first, squinted at the thought of the murders she had committed, but she shook again at the thought of another man's lips upon her own. Warm, sticky, disgusting ... what he had done to her. Without her permission, without her consent. Tarnished. Worthless in her own right. She had been stained, and no stain did ever come out easily. The words of the valiant hero had become lost to her. She was shaken, realization typically did this to her. Three men ... four, was murder the weapon of the strong. Because they were scum, did that give her the right to end their lives. Justice, that was not a choice she should have made. A heavy boot struck the pavement as Galand turned to face the ever silent Guinevere. Ever beautiful in her anguish. An angel when covered with blood. A Demon when cleansed by her tears.

"I'm sorry." Her shaking hand nearly tore her face from its jitters. Heavy boots clunked through the old floor of the shop. She ran into a man on her way out, turning to hold her hands out, she would apologize several times. The tears clear and evident, she could only utter words, and offer him no assistance. "I apologize, please ... I just." Words lost as breath escaped her lungs. Gasp. She could breathe again, and out the door she went. Running a good distance from the shop, maybe one hundred feet or so. She paused, back to whatever could see her. Her right hand ran up along her collarbone to her left shoulder. Her left hand crossed her torso along the waist, holding herself, head hung in shame. Those men, that touch. Her head swayed slowly from left to right, and the image would still not leave her. What she had done. Shake. Young body of a young maiden. Cry, for there are no tears more pure. You are beautiful when you smile. You are beautiful when you cry. You are beautiful when covered in blood. You. Are. Beautiful.

"a caѕтle тнaт vanιѕнeѕ aт тнe ғιrѕт gυѕт oғ wιnd ιѕ worтнleѕѕ. a ѕĸyѕcraper wιтнιn yoυr мιnd wιll never ғall down."

North Lotus

 

[North Lotus]

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ { J U D G E } ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤
Galan Drace || Swordsman || Pirate || Fruit [---] || 20,000
Str: 5 || End: 5 || Spd: 5 || Acc: 5 || Int: 5 || Spi: 0
╔════════════════════════════════════════════╗

[ Something just wasn’t right. Though the man went out of his way to spare Guinevere the prying eyes of the curious bystanders, Galand still finds himself confused by the sudden turn of events. Or maybe, he is just too kind. From his perspective, he and Guin are already friends. At least very good acquaintances. I mean, they just saved an entire town together! As lucky as it was aside. He rubs the back of his head with one hand while the other rests on his hip. “Man...Well that one definitely hurt, haha.” he teases in his own head at the woman’s comment about having no friends. Soon enough she rushes out of the building causing a few people to look up, not really understanding what just transpired. As she passed him, Galand held up a hand as if to try and stop her, but what would he say if he did? He doesn’t even understand the source of her worries in the first place! What if he said the wrong thing…? He sucks his teeth and and looks back to the owners, giving them a reassuring thumbs up.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” he confirms before jogging off behind his partner. With all of the construction and cleanup going on, the swordsman has a fairly difficult time getting a good spot to look around, but finally he manages to see it. That long beautiful hair of hers, accompanied by that figure. You’d be very hard pressed in not noticing Guinevere among the crowds of ‘regular’ people. Slowly he makes his way over to her so that he is standing a few steps behind the woman, about arm length away. He lets out a breath through his nose, softly, and puts his hands behind his head. Within a few moment’s he’s standing to her left, staring in the same direction she’s facing. Truth be told, he still doesn’t understand why she’s upset, or why she started crying again, but for now, he’d take a wild guess. Just by looking at her, she seems to be sheltered or reserved to a degree, and with what happened earlier, she doesn’t particularly seem to be a full fledged fighter. Which leads him to one conclusion.

“It sucks, doesn’t it. Killing people, I mean.” he asks while tilting his head back ever so slightly so that his eyes can see the blue sky above. “Those guys back there… I won’t say they deserved to die, but hell, what choice did they give us? It was either us, or them. If we died back there, if we stood back and did nothing, those townspeople who showed us so much kindness would have been killed.” he voice remains calmed, relaxed, gentle, as if to leave tension aside. He wants to sounds reasonable and level-headed. He needs her to understand her actions are justified, regardless of how vile they were. “We saved those people, Guin. We gave them a chance for a future. Hope. And if justice demands the death of the wicked in order to reach peace, then we should be proud that we were given the chance to usher out that hope.” He lowers his hands from his head before looking over to her from his peripheral.

He removes his right hand from behind his head and moves it to wipe a tear from her face with his index finger. “You did a splendid job, you know. And from that experience, you’ve grown stronger. The world NEEDS people like you, Guinevere. With how rotten things have gotten these days, the Marines won’t be enough. It needs people like us who can raise the flag of justice, and go where the military can’t. To save people who are below the radar. We are the hero of the people, you know? So instead of crying, smile. Give the people hope, and be their sun. Smile, and show evil it has no place in this world.” As he finishes, he gives the woman a determined smirk, showcasing his own willingness to bravely smile in these trying times. “We can do it, as friends.” ]

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Words in Post: 687 || Uncashed Words: --- || Uncashed EXP: --- || Cashed EXP: --- || Rank: ---

IC Notes: ---
Credit: Format base by Fauna Lestrade.

Misujage

 

[Misujage]

"reмeмвer тнaт a ѕword нeld вy ѕoмeone wнo ιѕ aвoυт тo dιe… wιll never вe aвle тo proтecт anyтнιng."

It sucks doesn't it ....
.... Killing people, I mean.

Regret could crush her soul. In fact, one could say it already was. She regretted so much from a singular battle. Pain, Loss, the death of men she had no right to kill above all. The virtue upon her lips, so swiftly taken from her. Was this the sort of battle that Pirates conceived as just and true. No, this was not the way of life for her. "It hurts ... in a way I can't describe." The hands she had wrapped about herself seemed to be trying to dig into her. Find the portion of her that was missing or injured, and drag it out by its roots. Detach the pain from this woman so she could smile. Alas, this world was not meant for her smile. A princess could not smile in reality, only in the pristine dream of her castle walls. Outside, here in this plane of existence, she was not protected. Never as strong as she thought she was. The ability to kill, did not give you the capacity. Trained, as all of her siblings were in combat. Never had she ever taken a life, even that of an animal. The eldest of the Pendragon's, and apparently the most foolish. "That doesn't give us the right." Despite her tears, her voice was surprisingly clear. It wobbled a bit, but her words did not break in their pronunciation. She was sure of what she had said, that the lives of those whom died was never their's to take. To protect the weak, that was the power of the strong. But to kill, that was the power of the weak.

"How do you celebrate a dead man, even if steeped in evil. He had a family and friends, he laughed and he cried. He had as much capacity for Good as he did for Evil." She would look back over her shoulder. Seemingly those whom moved about would part for the duo speaking. They had much building to do, and while everyone had heard of them. This seemed a situation too serious for them to intervene. These two, were the Red Sea, and Moses had separated them from those about. That they would not influence the actions of the people. Justice, by definition, is just behavior or treatment. The ability to act in such a way that your actions justify themselves. If the only pre-requisite for being a murderer was that you kill a murderer, then just as well there is evil in your heart. If your ability to save a life, is dependent on your ability to take one, then a life would have been lost either way. There is no justification in your actions. "Justice demands life, and an atonement for one's actions. They could have become good men, or been made to pay for their crimes. We aren't judges, we aren't jurors, we aren't executioners. We just killed them ... That is weakness, not justice. The strong can stop a weak man with as little as a stare. I've seen my Father do it, then what are we. Weak? Murderers? Are we not like them?" As she spoke, the clutch of her hands that embraced her body had tightened firmly. Shifting to glance over her shoulder. She didn't shake as much, but through the thicket of bangs one could see the rivers flowing softly from beneath her lids. They sparkled in the shadows, catching light from where it could.

She understood his logic, and it should have consoled her. To know that she saved people was a breath of fresh air, but it never erased the lives she took. Those men ended because of her, where was her solace in that. How was she supposed to calm herself. Jitters. Her body would shake again, that pain buried deep within her heart was already present. She only wished she could have been that kind of person. To smile in this circumstance, to only see the God in what she had done and not the bad. She withdrew from his hand, close but not quite close enough. She had a thing about being touched by the hands of a man. The elderly woman meant no harm, and she knew that. Of course, Galand meant no harm to her either. Of this she was sure. "I am just not a person fit for this world then, not someone meant to have friends." For the first time she felt rudeness in her withdraw, in her need to not be touched. She had been adamant about it so far, even if it made her stuck up, she had to stay steadfast to her morals. This place was broken, and it had broken her. "I can not say you are correct, and I cannot say you are incorrect for your own ideals. Your own assumptions. However, none of those can console me." Withdraw again, the word she had never known in her entire life. Friends. A kinship to another person, built off of the deaths of men.

"I am not fit to be a Friend."

Are you weak? Yes ... ... Only if you choose.

She turned fully, to face the noble man whom had fought at her side to protect others. She couldn't shake the feeling, her body could not relax. Her hands could not tingle. "Killing is evil, to Kill to protect is no better than to kill and steal. The action, of taking a life is evil, not the reasoning behind it. Galand, I am sorry. But this is where we must depart." The clamoring of her hands came through, her right hand planted against her heart. Left behind her, still in pain, still hungry and still thirsty. Guinevere, with her impeccable posture, would bow forward. Eyes closed, as to focus on nothing but the act. Droplets struck the ground beneath the caress of her bangs. She smiled earlier, of course, she had not thought about what she did now. That, there was no excitement in her actions. Nothing to celebrate, she was happy these people survived, but sorrow still for those she lost Anguish at those she had struck down and taken. "Farewell." She would hold the bow, in anticipation of his response.

"a caѕтle тнaт vanιѕнeѕ aт тнe ғιrѕт gυѕт oғ wιnd ιѕ worтнleѕѕ. a ѕĸyѕcraper wιтнιn yoυr мιnd wιll never ғall down."

North Lotus

 

[North Lotus]

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ { J U D G E } ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤
Galan Drace || Swordsman || Pirate || Fruit [---] || 20,000
Str: 5 || End: 5 || Spd: 5 || Acc: 5 || Int: 5 || Spi: 0
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[ That doesn’t give us the right, is what the woman says. These words trigger something within his body, festering an ill emotion he never once harbored towards the woman standing by his side. Even though he only knew her for such a brief time, Galand had grown fond of this crybaby. She showed such immaculate refinement and potential to become something great. Someone that could grow into a savior of the people. But those words ruined her. Immediately, the outlook he held in such high regards for Guinevere had been shaken. His head turns back forward and his freed hand slips back behind his head with the other. During this time, he can only listen. As the words sink in, more and more does his faith waver. Damn. She’s just too brittle right now. Sure enough, it’s not her time to see the world from his point of view, and at this rate, such would never happen.

Galand turns his head over as the woman bows to him. Yet his eyes do not show the same peace they once had. No, now, he stares at her with an apathetic glare. Her bowed head, her fragile form, her wavering views of reality… “What a shame.” he says before lowering his hands and turning his back to her. “Let me say this, Guinevere.” he begins while raising his right hand to grab the hilt of his katana. He unsheathes the blade slowly, letting its shriek carelessly sing to the sky, and its reflective metal glaring about under the sun’s guidance. “You speak as if you had options. As if, you could determine the fates of those men. As if, you were strong. But as you could see, neither of us was afforded such a luxury as options. I told you already. It was us, or them.” His blade fully leaves the sheath now with such fluid perfection, cleanly leading to him spinning the blade to his side before stabbing it into the ground.

Luckily his back remains turned to the woman, because frankly, she probably wouldn’t like to very much see the look on his face. The seething anger emanating from his person flares out, obvious to anyone around. He never wanted this weakness. He never wanted to start over from zero. But the government gave him no choice. If it were him back then, he could have easily shut down those men without spilling even a drop of blood. “Only the strong can make those decisions. They ultimately determine right from wrong, life from death. Your emotions mean little to reality, and that is a brutal fact you felt with your flesh. Ideals are fine, should you have the means to execute them from their foundation, and hold them up high above all others.” He grips the hilt of his finely sharpened weapon and pulls it from the ground before turning halfway around and pointing the edge of the blade towards Guin.

“Never forget that. Because while you wallow in your self pity, another life is lost to us due to the same cruelties happening around the seas. I won’t cry. I can’t cry. I need only to grow stronger, and gain the power to choose.” With one swing, Galand holsters his katana back into its home strapped to his back. Once more he turns from the woman and starts walking down the stone path down the mountain. “I heard your answer loud and clear, Little Flower. One day, we’ll cross paths again. Even if your beliefs stand against my own, I won’t be stopped. I will become strong, and if you want to survive in this world, I recommend you to do the same.” he speaks out over his shoulder, glaring back at the woman he once called his partner. “Don’t go dying before you see the fruits of my dream. See ya later, friend.” he remarks, intentionally calling her a friend despite what she might say. Drip, drip, drop. Despite how clear the sky was only a small time ago, a sudden shower spreads overhead.

Clouds block out the sun, and rain pelts the small town, as if the sky had grown sad. Was it too aware of the happenings below? Or maybe, the boy sheds tears for the rift forming between his two saviors. Yet so the path of the two swordsmen splits, one leading to an ideal of peace and prosperity for all, and the other, a bloodied path of destruction and forced rule. Only time could tell where these views would lead, but one thing is for certain, Galand has full intention to crush anyone that stands along his path between he and his goal. “What a crying shame…” he says again as his figure slowly vanishes into the forests below. ]

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Words in Post: 794 || Uncashed Words: --- || Uncashed EXP: --- || Cashed EXP: --- || Rank: ---

IC Notes: ---
Credit: Format base by Fauna Lestrade.

Misujage

 

[Misujage]

"reмeмвer тнaт a ѕword нeld вy ѕoмeone wнo ιѕ aвoυт тo dιe… wιll never вe aвle тo proтecт anyтнιng."

What a shame

She did it again, didn't she. She had said the wrong words, spoken out of context. Too heavily tried to influence another with her ideals and her own words. Every single time, with every single person she has met to date. If she opened her mouth she could only ruin something. So, it was as Johnny said, she was stuck up. If she knew how to have fun, to relax, have friends. Perhaps Galand would not have been so angry with her. She would not have seen his face twisted in the manner it had when she rose her head once more. To overstep and to over reach was seemingly in her blood. Here, with no one to tell her what to do she had to make up the rules as she went. However, there was nothing but disaster built upon her own systems. Apologize idiot, you said too much after all. To a man so happy to have saved so many people. "I'm sorry ..." Her words halted at the sound of his voice once more. The grip on his blade. Her eyes wandered a bit, step drawing backward away from the man. Her fingers trembled, but came to relax in front of her. Folded about her front, she stared. Shock and tears ran rampant across her face. What did he plan to do with such a blade. Choice, he spoke of choice, and how they had none. Was it not their own fault, for being so weak. Too weak to have a choice in the matter at all, to have vowed to protect. Was it protection to kill, was that the meaning of this world. Them, or us, she could not accept that. She could never accept that.

The blade struck soil, her shoulders tensed a bit. Not out of fear, she was sad and perhaps a bit afraid of what she was capable of. But Galand, she wasn't afraid of him. He had never given her a reason to, even his act of aggression was her fault. She had seen the pattern so many times. Her views were too radical, too selfish and too single minded. She didn't know how to change them, and was hard pressed to keep it to herself. Zacharie was right, she wasn't attractive. Everything about her was slowly being revealed to be hideous. If every man could only point out negatives, what good was she as a woman. Luckily, beyond his first gaze, she could view his face no more. She probably wouldn't have liked those eyes on her. Deserving, certainly as penitence for her sharp tongue. Still, she was thankful to be spared. That didn't change her behavior, the silent stare at the ground. Like a child being scolded for negligence, for acting out. She didn't want to interrupt, because he seemed upset with her. Again, she was in agreement with him, this was her fault. "I'm sorry ..." She spoke again, tears welling up in her eyes again.

She would stare down the length of the blade as Galand would come to point it at her. There it was, that fear she did not have. It had managed to bring its way to the surface. Why was this always happening. What could she possibly do right, do better that she would not upset another soul. Be like her Mother, silent in the presence of a man. Never speaking unless spoken to. Taking what was offered, being obedient at all corners. The World didn't care for the opinion of a woman, so why waste so much time giving it. Yes, Guinevere, there was your true resolution. Shut. Up. Flinching, at the withdrawn blade. Her right hand went to her throat, she hadn't felt herself be cut but out of reflex she checked anyway. Other than that, unmoved, her unwavering eyes had come to rest on Galand. Hatred. This World seemed to have a lot of them, and only she seemed capable of pulling it out of these men. If she kept at it with this streak, no doubt the next man she met would be the one to kill her. At least, that was what she should have thought about. Survival. What she did think about, was how to apologize for upsetting him. How that she may have been wrong about Zacharie, he had called her ugly to be truthful. To help her fix herself. Johnny called her stuck up, because of how pretentious she was. Kaito called her weak because she was. Everyone, they all hated her. She, of all people, was no hero.

Even as the rain fell, Guinevere did not move. She uttered not a single word to anyone whom could perceive her position. They all ran, to flee the rain and into their homes. Nearby buildings were warmed by hearth's fire. The woman froze, her wounds eased in the surging rains. Cold to the touch. She remained still, so that her tears were consumed by rain drops. Her hands fidgeted again, rubbing against each other as if trying to wash something filthy off. She was so uncertain, so uncomfortable in her own skin. "I'm sorry ... I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. I'M SORRY!" Lightning crashed about her, not striking her, but it certainly seemed like it. The blinding features that consumed the terrain had her vanish. A burst of thunder had muffled her woeful screams. Still, she was gone now, and where she stood slowly washed over with mud and water. The Saviors were gone, and the town could return to normalcy. Alas, Guinevere would never be the same again.

[EXIT]

"a caѕтle тнaт vanιѕнeѕ aт тнe ғιrѕт gυѕт oғ wιnd ιѕ worтнleѕѕ. a ѕĸyѕcraper wιтнιn yoυr мιnd wιll never ғall down."

North Lotus