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First Chord
Mar. 24th, 2025 07:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fair_troubleThere’s a slight possibility you’ve seen them before- a very pretty blonde young man, or occasionally young woman, wandering around Elysium. Sometimes they’re spotted in Flotsam, but never in the Vault. They’re usually hanging out in bars and taverns, smiling and laughing a lot, but saying and drinking very little. At the beginning of Spring they start popping up a lot more frequently, and maybe you'll get the chance to have an actual conversation with them.
Music [Elysium]
Spring is well underway on the continent of Innistis, but there are a few places- particularly on the Northern side of the continent- where the new growth and the warmth are lagging behind, where snow still lurks in the shade, where the lion hasn’t fully turned into a lamb.
This spot is one of them, a glade that’s a good hike uphill from the city of Elysium. It’s more grey and brown than green, and Emery is seated on a rock that has enough sun to be relatively dry. In his hands, he’s holding a battered old lyre, upon which he is playing a pretty little tune.
When he’s done he stares down at his hands in thoughtful silence for several moments, before suddenly turning to look at you.
“That was lovely, wasn’t it?” he says, smiling.
Greens [Elysium]
If you’re not inclined to explore outside the city you still might encounter a certain cheery blonde girl walking around in a green cloak and carrying a tray full of tiny pots. Each pot is filled with soil, with tiny green plants sprouting out of them.
Catch her eye and she’ll approach you, holding the tray out for your inspection.
“Would you like to take one?”
Fists [Vindess]
With the town of Vindess under Imperial lockdown, tensions are running high. The stress has left the tempers of the citizens short, and the soldiers are quick to mete out punishment for any perceived infractions. It’s basically the perfect conditions for fights to break out- such as this one.
Honestly Emery’s not even sure how it started, but this is a pub. People have been drinking. Some people started arguing, the volume grew louder, and then suddenly fists started flying.
Emery is one of the few who isn’t throwing punches, and is instead doing his best to dodge and skedaddle around the edges of the fight. It’s not the fight itself that concerns him, honestly, but the prospect of the town guard showing up.
[[ooc: And our Apollo enters the scene, though he’s staying relatively incognito for the moment. This is mostly a casual introduction post, but is also meant to lead into a player plot where Emery’ll be recruiting some Corsairs to fight a monster. Subsequently the Vindess prompt is your best bet for getting on his radar for that, but it’s not necessary either.
As Apollo, Emery has a couple of abilities that might cause problems for your character, so please make sure to check his permissions post.]]
Music [Elysium]
Spring is well underway on the continent of Innistis, but there are a few places- particularly on the Northern side of the continent- where the new growth and the warmth are lagging behind, where snow still lurks in the shade, where the lion hasn’t fully turned into a lamb.
This spot is one of them, a glade that’s a good hike uphill from the city of Elysium. It’s more grey and brown than green, and Emery is seated on a rock that has enough sun to be relatively dry. In his hands, he’s holding a battered old lyre, upon which he is playing a pretty little tune.
When he’s done he stares down at his hands in thoughtful silence for several moments, before suddenly turning to look at you.
“That was lovely, wasn’t it?” he says, smiling.
Greens [Elysium]
If you’re not inclined to explore outside the city you still might encounter a certain cheery blonde girl walking around in a green cloak and carrying a tray full of tiny pots. Each pot is filled with soil, with tiny green plants sprouting out of them.
Catch her eye and she’ll approach you, holding the tray out for your inspection.
“Would you like to take one?”
Fists [Vindess]
With the town of Vindess under Imperial lockdown, tensions are running high. The stress has left the tempers of the citizens short, and the soldiers are quick to mete out punishment for any perceived infractions. It’s basically the perfect conditions for fights to break out- such as this one.
Honestly Emery’s not even sure how it started, but this is a pub. People have been drinking. Some people started arguing, the volume grew louder, and then suddenly fists started flying.
Emery is one of the few who isn’t throwing punches, and is instead doing his best to dodge and skedaddle around the edges of the fight. It’s not the fight itself that concerns him, honestly, but the prospect of the town guard showing up.
[[ooc: And our Apollo enters the scene, though he’s staying relatively incognito for the moment. This is mostly a casual introduction post, but is also meant to lead into a player plot where Emery’ll be recruiting some Corsairs to fight a monster. Subsequently the Vindess prompt is your best bet for getting on his radar for that, but it’s not necessary either.
As Apollo, Emery has a couple of abilities that might cause problems for your character, so please make sure to check his permissions post.]]
03: In Like A Lion
Mar. 3rd, 2025 12:38 pmtheriflespiral01: Pancake Week (Elysium)
Much as she despises the Orthodox Church, there was one tradition, Natalia thinks, with which she can truck, and that is the week before Lent being Pancake Week.
She has a small Ether stove and a little chalk sign: IT'S PANCAKE WEEK! Deliver a pancake! Ask me how!, with a small list of fillings, and a drawing of a penguin carrying a pancake wrapped around little herrings and a pleased expression.
Although, the ability to deliver a pancake, still warm, without breaking it, is a hell of a statement for a shipping company to make...
02: To Dance As The Queen Does
Once more, Natalia listens to distantly piped jazz and taps the rhythm carefully, gathering Ether, ice swirling in her hands as she moves to the beat.
And, once again, as her mind fills with other things, the spell breaks, sending little bits of powder snow all across the improvised dance floor, to evaporate.
She hums in annoyance. Of course, by now, surely someone would hear soft or hard jazz and come to investigate.
03: Unfurling Inner Lotus
While much of her time is given to maintaining her front or honing her marksmanship and spellcraft, time must be given to conditioning her body.
This is risky, because unlike the other forms of training, to do it she must engage her energies at their fullest. This is less a risk of her being hurt-- no more than usual-- but rather a risk of discovery; for no one notices a girl with black hair and black eyes, but a girl with blue stars shining in her eyes? Now that has been seen once or twice, to say nothing about how it might touch on the senses of those sensitive to Ether.
But it's the only way to make sure she's training to her utmost, and so utmost she must go-- keeping up with others, never mind the Empire, demands it.
Thus it is that someone as apparently light as Natalia Koutolika is now lifting sacks of shot that are obviously as heavy as she is, and tossing them some distance, besides.
04: Special Deliveries
This was the spot. Natalia stood on the deck of the Humboldt in the little shelter the rocks of the island made, and waited to make contact.
As much as she wanted to recover and utilize larger ships, even ships that might be better suited to the line (intentionally), ships like the little sea sloop were too useful for Penguin Logistics' other purpose: smuggling packages, people, and information.
Was her chronometer wrong? She kept a weather eye out. Who is meeting her? And for what?
Much as she despises the Orthodox Church, there was one tradition, Natalia thinks, with which she can truck, and that is the week before Lent being Pancake Week.
She has a small Ether stove and a little chalk sign: IT'S PANCAKE WEEK! Deliver a pancake! Ask me how!, with a small list of fillings, and a drawing of a penguin carrying a pancake wrapped around little herrings and a pleased expression.
Although, the ability to deliver a pancake, still warm, without breaking it, is a hell of a statement for a shipping company to make...
02: To Dance As The Queen Does
Once more, Natalia listens to distantly piped jazz and taps the rhythm carefully, gathering Ether, ice swirling in her hands as she moves to the beat.
And, once again, as her mind fills with other things, the spell breaks, sending little bits of powder snow all across the improvised dance floor, to evaporate.
She hums in annoyance. Of course, by now, surely someone would hear soft or hard jazz and come to investigate.
03: Unfurling Inner Lotus
While much of her time is given to maintaining her front or honing her marksmanship and spellcraft, time must be given to conditioning her body.
This is risky, because unlike the other forms of training, to do it she must engage her energies at their fullest. This is less a risk of her being hurt-- no more than usual-- but rather a risk of discovery; for no one notices a girl with black hair and black eyes, but a girl with blue stars shining in her eyes? Now that has been seen once or twice, to say nothing about how it might touch on the senses of those sensitive to Ether.
But it's the only way to make sure she's training to her utmost, and so utmost she must go-- keeping up with others, never mind the Empire, demands it.
Thus it is that someone as apparently light as Natalia Koutolika is now lifting sacks of shot that are obviously as heavy as she is, and tossing them some distance, besides.
04: Special Deliveries
This was the spot. Natalia stood on the deck of the Humboldt in the little shelter the rocks of the island made, and waited to make contact.
As much as she wanted to recover and utilize larger ships, even ships that might be better suited to the line (intentionally), ships like the little sea sloop were too useful for Penguin Logistics' other purpose: smuggling packages, people, and information.
Was her chronometer wrong? She kept a weather eye out. Who is meeting her? And for what?
Player Plot: Recovery of the Mad Archer
Feb. 9th, 2025 12:33 amtheriflespiralWho: Senshi, Natalia, Kaitlyn, Atom, Cid, and Rezo.
Where: The Fallen Island of Aelmsraest, two days' sail south of Elysium
When: One week after the Emperor's formal declaration of war.
What: Recover the surviving crew of the Mad Archer and extract them from the island.
( The Mad Archer had vanished during the dispersal of Flotsam... )
Where: The Fallen Island of Aelmsraest, two days' sail south of Elysium
When: One week after the Emperor's formal declaration of war.
What: Recover the surviving crew of the Mad Archer and extract them from the island.
( The Mad Archer had vanished during the dispersal of Flotsam... )
relentless_sentinelWho: Nephenee and YOU
What: Nephenee's handing out gifts for all the Corsairs! Yes, we said all! And even some non-Corsairs!
Where: All around the place (seriously)
When: Shortly after the fireworks
Warnings: None known, will edit if needed
It'd been not that long ago that a certain Sentinel and Corsair learned of gift giving for the solstice and for New Year's, and being the type of girl who likes to take care of everyone, she jumped at the chance to do so. So she's been working like mad to prepare things for everyone.
Unfortunately, little things like missions got in the way. But that's over now, and the oven's been blazing like mad for a good long while. The kitchen smells like sweet, buttery heaven, and once the last bunch is done, she grabs the more personalized gifts, and heads off to hand out everything!
So when she finds you, you get a hopeful, and a bit shy, "H-Howdy!" The tall woman's in her normal blue armour, but there's a little blue scarf around her neck over her orange neckerchief, too. It's the only warm-looking thing on her. Other than her cheeks, that is; those are bright red. "Ah, uh, gotta present for New Year's for ya."
[OOC: EVERYONE gets gifts! If you're close CR, you get personalized gifts! And if you're injured? YOU'RE GETTING HEALS AND GIFTS.
No, it doesn't matter if she knows you or not. If you're here, you get a thing.]
What: Nephenee's handing out gifts for all the Corsairs! Yes, we said all! And even some non-Corsairs!
Where: All around the place (seriously)
When: Shortly after the fireworks
Warnings: None known, will edit if needed
It'd been not that long ago that a certain Sentinel and Corsair learned of gift giving for the solstice and for New Year's, and being the type of girl who likes to take care of everyone, she jumped at the chance to do so. So she's been working like mad to prepare things for everyone.
Unfortunately, little things like missions got in the way. But that's over now, and the oven's been blazing like mad for a good long while. The kitchen smells like sweet, buttery heaven, and once the last bunch is done, she grabs the more personalized gifts, and heads off to hand out everything!
So when she finds you, you get a hopeful, and a bit shy, "H-Howdy!" The tall woman's in her normal blue armour, but there's a little blue scarf around her neck over her orange neckerchief, too. It's the only warm-looking thing on her. Other than her cheeks, that is; those are bright red. "Ah, uh, gotta present for New Year's for ya."
[OOC: EVERYONE gets gifts! If you're close CR, you get personalized gifts! And if you're injured? YOU'RE GETTING HEALS AND GIFTS.
No, it doesn't matter if she knows you or not. If you're here, you get a thing.]
tisfinished1: New Year’s Resolution
Senshi’s somber mood of the last month has been wholly exorcized, and the dwarf is in his usual high spirits. He’s offering a mix of traditional New Years foods from the Imperial middle class, as well as drawing attention to an expanded grocery section with delicacies like sugar, coffee, cocoa, spices and all manner of fresh and frozen things.
“Let me know if you have any special orders, and I’ll let you know if it can be done for next month,” he offers.
2: Of Dice And Tallmen
Gambling games are a new year’s tradition, but Senshi doesn’t want to clean people out - just to offer a context for sitting around ordering drinks and the kind of snacks invented by enterprising earls with only one free hand.
His solution is a particular dice game.
“It’s called Karvanibai - Archer’s Target. Bunch of orcish hunters taught it to me,”* he says. “First player rolls two dice. They win on 2 or 7 - otherwise, what they roll is the target. Players roll off until they roll 7 or 12 and lose, or hit the target and win; then the next person makes the first shot. It’s a fair game, I’m making my money off of serving you beer. Who’s in?”
3: Gone Fishin
Sometime, Senshi is above decks, with a fishing rod and a long line, and some bottled beers, and tries to see what he can reel in.
Most of his stuff for sale? Bought from Wholesalers or ideally the fishers themselves. This is for fun, and he knows it, and waves at those taking an interest - as well as offering a seat. Stay a while, see what’s biting.
[[*my friend Qoheleth actually made it up for a Wonders of Mundus campaign, where it was canonically Orcish in origin.]]
Senshi’s somber mood of the last month has been wholly exorcized, and the dwarf is in his usual high spirits. He’s offering a mix of traditional New Years foods from the Imperial middle class, as well as drawing attention to an expanded grocery section with delicacies like sugar, coffee, cocoa, spices and all manner of fresh and frozen things.
“Let me know if you have any special orders, and I’ll let you know if it can be done for next month,” he offers.
2: Of Dice And Tallmen
Gambling games are a new year’s tradition, but Senshi doesn’t want to clean people out - just to offer a context for sitting around ordering drinks and the kind of snacks invented by enterprising earls with only one free hand.
His solution is a particular dice game.
“It’s called Karvanibai - Archer’s Target. Bunch of orcish hunters taught it to me,”* he says. “First player rolls two dice. They win on 2 or 7 - otherwise, what they roll is the target. Players roll off until they roll 7 or 12 and lose, or hit the target and win; then the next person makes the first shot. It’s a fair game, I’m making my money off of serving you beer. Who’s in?”
3: Gone Fishin
Sometime, Senshi is above decks, with a fishing rod and a long line, and some bottled beers, and tries to see what he can reel in.
Most of his stuff for sale? Bought from Wholesalers or ideally the fishers themselves. This is for fun, and he knows it, and waves at those taking an interest - as well as offering a seat. Stay a while, see what’s biting.
[[*my friend Qoheleth actually made it up for a Wonders of Mundus campaign, where it was canonically Orcish in origin.]]
Chimera Corsair: I
Jan. 4th, 2025 06:27 pmharlequinchimeraI: Hitting the Books (Vault)
Despite her large size, formidable strength and unusual physiognomy, she did find time to perch - perhaps on the very largest and tallest chair available to the library, likely as not seated comfortably on a tabletop of some particularly sturdy material. She was once again engrossing herself in research, this time delving into the intricacies of the local language and of all things, the units of measure involved with cooking. She was certainly not so involved in her reading that she could not see anything else that was moving - her long habits being what they were.
II: Of the Prices of Ale (General)
So where would a 7'8" black and white chimera with an unusual eye, enough strength to carry a motorcycle and the skills of a long-range killer and spy take her ease? The tavern, of course! She would find her way to the alehouse, the Corsairs' source of drinks, the place that tended to attract more wanderers, strangers and such that a certain Mesopotamian space station. She would seek and locate a stool tall and sturdy enough to hold her remarkably muscular hindquarters far enough from the ground that she would in fact relax atop it and even keep her tail from becoming a hazard to navigation. She tended to look for darker ales, when she was in a more social mood - which she was. And when really wishing for a strong one, something clear with more bite than every snap of the world's most famous archaeologist's whip. She would look then to see who else was in the place, since this was now the point of contact for meeting others in the same line.
III: What Snows of the New Year (General)
The new year had arrived, and it was not long since she had arrived. She found herself walking outside near the docks, as most bundled themselves away or worked upon the ships as she strode past. She was relaxed, surprisingly so, and lightly dressed for once. She then found a place far from dishing lines, boats and ships and there was her goal, the frigid waters - and soon she was swimming as she had only in her wintry home waters and then, she was on the shore, taking in the wintry sun with all the joy some would see on a tropical summer beach - and there was certainly enough room if any were at least going to see what she was about, or even swim.
IV: Wildcard
Is there a scene or interaction that you would like to do? Just ask!
Despite her large size, formidable strength and unusual physiognomy, she did find time to perch - perhaps on the very largest and tallest chair available to the library, likely as not seated comfortably on a tabletop of some particularly sturdy material. She was once again engrossing herself in research, this time delving into the intricacies of the local language and of all things, the units of measure involved with cooking. She was certainly not so involved in her reading that she could not see anything else that was moving - her long habits being what they were.
II: Of the Prices of Ale (General)
So where would a 7'8" black and white chimera with an unusual eye, enough strength to carry a motorcycle and the skills of a long-range killer and spy take her ease? The tavern, of course! She would find her way to the alehouse, the Corsairs' source of drinks, the place that tended to attract more wanderers, strangers and such that a certain Mesopotamian space station. She would seek and locate a stool tall and sturdy enough to hold her remarkably muscular hindquarters far enough from the ground that she would in fact relax atop it and even keep her tail from becoming a hazard to navigation. She tended to look for darker ales, when she was in a more social mood - which she was. And when really wishing for a strong one, something clear with more bite than every snap of the world's most famous archaeologist's whip. She would look then to see who else was in the place, since this was now the point of contact for meeting others in the same line.
III: What Snows of the New Year (General)
The new year had arrived, and it was not long since she had arrived. She found herself walking outside near the docks, as most bundled themselves away or worked upon the ships as she strode past. She was relaxed, surprisingly so, and lightly dressed for once. She then found a place far from dishing lines, boats and ships and there was her goal, the frigid waters - and soon she was swimming as she had only in her wintry home waters and then, she was on the shore, taking in the wintry sun with all the joy some would see on a tropical summer beach - and there was certainly enough room if any were at least going to see what she was about, or even swim.
IV: Wildcard
Is there a scene or interaction that you would like to do? Just ask!
Yes, I know I pressed enter on a different part of the page and it immediately posted. Oops.
Second Invocation
Dec. 20th, 2024 12:46 pmredprayerLiterary Mystery (Vault)
While browsing the library, Rezo has come across a shelf he's yet to explore. He pulls out a random book, and soon realizes that there's something different about it. It's larger and heavier than most of the library's books and there's no writing on the front, although examining the spine he does find "Prayers to Hades," "4 VOLUMES," and "Volume 1" written on the side.
And inside, the book is unlike any he's familiar with. The pages are comprised of a stiff, thick paper, and instead of inked letters the pages are covered with innumerable embossed dots. A quick inspection of other books on the shelf confirms they're the same way: Dotted patterns on thick paper instead of regular writing.
After feeling them out for a bit he becomes certain that the dots are a code of some sort, though it would take him a while to decode it.
Or he could just ask the first available person.
"Excuse me," he says. "Do you know what this book is?"
Localized Magic (Vault)
Whenever Rezo casts a spell, he always casts it in his native language. Thus far this hasn't been a problem, but recent conversations have made him reflect on how tricky this might make teaching his spells to anyone else.
He has also recalled how the lost holy magic of his world was traditionally cast in the Draconic language.
Thus, Rezo has brought himself to the Vault training halls to do a little translation work.
"Oh source of all power, oh bright burning violet flame, take it and be my strength."
As he chants the Imperial words, a small ball of purplish, reddish fire forms between his hands, and at the end of the spell he launches it out at the target. The fireball flies forward and hits the top of the target and with a quiet fwumff sets it alight with a smokey fire. The whole target doesn't immolate, just the part that the fireball touched, although the fire is spreading at a very slow rate.
Rezo moves over to the target and cautiously holds his hand out towards the fire, checking the ambient heat.
Doctor's Appointment (Anywhere)
If you asked Rezo to describe himself he'd say he's first and foremost a healer, and on some days he might even believe what he says.
Regardless of his own opinion, Rezo does in fact spend a lot of time volunteering at the various clinics run by the Corsairs, treating various injuries and sicknesses with a mixture of magic, medicines, and a pinch of practical first aid and nursing techniques. If you've come to see him then you're probably at a Vault hospital, but he also often travels to Flotsam or Elysium to work at the clinics there- particularly after the assault on Flotsam before the great sea hunt.
Perhaps you're a walk-in situation, here with an unexpected injury. Or perhaps you've made an appointment in advance, or are even a regular visitor to the clinic Rezo's taking a shift at, or to his dorm at the Vault. Regardless of who you are, Rezo always starts off the appointment with a kindly smile and the question "How are you feeling today?"
While browsing the library, Rezo has come across a shelf he's yet to explore. He pulls out a random book, and soon realizes that there's something different about it. It's larger and heavier than most of the library's books and there's no writing on the front, although examining the spine he does find "Prayers to Hades," "4 VOLUMES," and "Volume 1" written on the side.
And inside, the book is unlike any he's familiar with. The pages are comprised of a stiff, thick paper, and instead of inked letters the pages are covered with innumerable embossed dots. A quick inspection of other books on the shelf confirms they're the same way: Dotted patterns on thick paper instead of regular writing.
After feeling them out for a bit he becomes certain that the dots are a code of some sort, though it would take him a while to decode it.
Or he could just ask the first available person.
"Excuse me," he says. "Do you know what this book is?"
Localized Magic (Vault)
Whenever Rezo casts a spell, he always casts it in his native language. Thus far this hasn't been a problem, but recent conversations have made him reflect on how tricky this might make teaching his spells to anyone else.
He has also recalled how the lost holy magic of his world was traditionally cast in the Draconic language.
Thus, Rezo has brought himself to the Vault training halls to do a little translation work.
"Oh source of all power, oh bright burning violet flame, take it and be my strength."
As he chants the Imperial words, a small ball of purplish, reddish fire forms between his hands, and at the end of the spell he launches it out at the target. The fireball flies forward and hits the top of the target and with a quiet fwumff sets it alight with a smokey fire. The whole target doesn't immolate, just the part that the fireball touched, although the fire is spreading at a very slow rate.
Rezo moves over to the target and cautiously holds his hand out towards the fire, checking the ambient heat.
Doctor's Appointment (Anywhere)
If you asked Rezo to describe himself he'd say he's first and foremost a healer, and on some days he might even believe what he says.
Regardless of his own opinion, Rezo does in fact spend a lot of time volunteering at the various clinics run by the Corsairs, treating various injuries and sicknesses with a mixture of magic, medicines, and a pinch of practical first aid and nursing techniques. If you've come to see him then you're probably at a Vault hospital, but he also often travels to Flotsam or Elysium to work at the clinics there- particularly after the assault on Flotsam before the great sea hunt.
Perhaps you're a walk-in situation, here with an unexpected injury. Or perhaps you've made an appointment in advance, or are even a regular visitor to the clinic Rezo's taking a shift at, or to his dorm at the Vault. Regardless of who you are, Rezo always starts off the appointment with a kindly smile and the question "How are you feeling today?"
tisfinished1: The Milk Run, docked at Flotsam
Senshi seems unusually focused and far less chatty than usual as he serves up hearty winter fare; in addition to the headline items from this post's title, he has hot tea, coffee and cocoa available as well as pork pies and (as a vegetarian option) mushroom pies and an array of pickled vegetables.
He tries to be friendly as ever, but it's clear something weighs heavily on his mind.
2: The Vault's Practice Halls
Senshi is in need of a sparring partner. He's practicing with axe and shield - curiously, practicing with a cage strapped to his chest - and the poor wooden practice dummies he's been whaling on have been taking a serious beating.
"Think maybe I need an actual opponent," he says, his voice unusually clipped.
3: Solstice Gift-Giving
Beware: if you've done any kindnesses to the weird dwarf that loves to cook with monster meat (even more so than most Flotsam pirates, at any rate) then you're liable to find a box outside your home or apartment door wrapped in a ribbon.
While there is no name identifying who could have left them, the fact that they are exquisite, frosted gingerbread monsters narrows down the possible culprits significantly.
Senshi seems unusually focused and far less chatty than usual as he serves up hearty winter fare; in addition to the headline items from this post's title, he has hot tea, coffee and cocoa available as well as pork pies and (as a vegetarian option) mushroom pies and an array of pickled vegetables.
He tries to be friendly as ever, but it's clear something weighs heavily on his mind.
2: The Vault's Practice Halls
Senshi is in need of a sparring partner. He's practicing with axe and shield - curiously, practicing with a cage strapped to his chest - and the poor wooden practice dummies he's been whaling on have been taking a serious beating.
"Think maybe I need an actual opponent," he says, his voice unusually clipped.
3: Solstice Gift-Giving
Beware: if you've done any kindnesses to the weird dwarf that loves to cook with monster meat (even more so than most Flotsam pirates, at any rate) then you're liable to find a box outside your home or apartment door wrapped in a ribbon.
While there is no name identifying who could have left them, the fact that they are exquisite, frosted gingerbread monsters narrows down the possible culprits significantly.
A Troubled Soldier 01
Dec. 13th, 2024 09:50 amtheriflespiralI: Delivery to Elysium
Elysium-the-city was far larger than Natalia had first assumed. Not that this was a problem for her-- a day or two among the rooftops, and she would know this place as well as anyone who lived here.
For now, though, she was momentarily relying on a map she kept carefully tucked away, and an address on a box with a memorized order form (and countersign, and counter-countersign, easily handwaved).
Being a delivery girl was hardly a novel cover, but it was precisely because such things were ubiquitous that it was easy to slip into the role as she came around the service entrance. Add perhaps a touch of bitter expression at the cold-- she didn't even have to try for that one-- and things would, hopefully, work just fine.
II: Blames Her Tools (Vault)
Natalia, after spending the better part of a day hitting targets from as extreme a range as the Vault could afford, was now overhauling her rifle, first cleaning the inside of the barrel with a cloth and a cleaning rod, and then disassembling it, screw by painstaking screw.
The casings were drying on a separate cloth nearby, with the scent of soap and water, waiting for an oven to finish getting up to the proper temperature.
It took up an entire gunsmith's bench, between the disassembly and the casings waiting for annealing and rolling and fitting and loading, but there was something to it. A peace, in an artisan's craft.
She looked at the tool rack above her and clicked her tongue.
She would have to go hunting for that particular tool.
Okay. Smooth hair. Stand properly. Act like you're supposed to be here.
Time to go among the other workbenches. Or workshops, if she had to.
III: Wildcard
Bug Natalia because she looks suspicious or because you need something.
Elysium-the-city was far larger than Natalia had first assumed. Not that this was a problem for her-- a day or two among the rooftops, and she would know this place as well as anyone who lived here.
For now, though, she was momentarily relying on a map she kept carefully tucked away, and an address on a box with a memorized order form (and countersign, and counter-countersign, easily handwaved).
Being a delivery girl was hardly a novel cover, but it was precisely because such things were ubiquitous that it was easy to slip into the role as she came around the service entrance. Add perhaps a touch of bitter expression at the cold-- she didn't even have to try for that one-- and things would, hopefully, work just fine.
II: Blames Her Tools (Vault)
Natalia, after spending the better part of a day hitting targets from as extreme a range as the Vault could afford, was now overhauling her rifle, first cleaning the inside of the barrel with a cloth and a cleaning rod, and then disassembling it, screw by painstaking screw.
The casings were drying on a separate cloth nearby, with the scent of soap and water, waiting for an oven to finish getting up to the proper temperature.
It took up an entire gunsmith's bench, between the disassembly and the casings waiting for annealing and rolling and fitting and loading, but there was something to it. A peace, in an artisan's craft.
She looked at the tool rack above her and clicked her tongue.
She would have to go hunting for that particular tool.
Okay. Smooth hair. Stand properly. Act like you're supposed to be here.
Time to go among the other workbenches. Or workshops, if she had to.
III: Wildcard
Bug Natalia because she looks suspicious or because you need something.