..E m p i r e * o f * O s a n e n.. [O/A]{Ignore Page Count}

[.:Xhang Sen:.]

ɨf you play with fire...

λou're liable to get burned...

•·.·´¯`·.·•✿•·.·´¯`·.·•

Not seeing the strange guy by the tree, Ember smiled in satisfaction assuming he’d gone about his business. The nerve of some guy coming out of nowhere assuming that she was some fragile little girl. She was far from fragile, and never cared to be considered so helpless. The one thing that she could respect about her father is that he never went easy on her. He never made anything easy either. She reach her weapon again and was about to go about tying the rope around the handle when the guy spoke up again.

"My, my... such harsh words from a lady! You're quite the spitfire, aren't you?"

Ember turned quickly only to see the white clad wonder sitting under a near by tree. She rolled her eyes irritated that he hadn’t left yet. “What the hell…?” she whispered mostly to herself in sheer frustration.

"You're almost like Kai! Except you're taller. And older. And a redhead. And don't wear ridiculous face paint. And - I only say this here, so she won't knock me over the head with her crossbow - a lot prettier."

Caught completely off guard by that comment, Ember could feel her cheeks grow hot. “W-what?” Noticing her face she quickly turned away from him. “What do I care how I compare to this… Kai person? Who is Kai?!” Then realizing what she was doing she grew mad, “Damnit! Why do I even care!” At that she tied the rope around the chakram handle and backed away, tugging the rope to make sure the knot was snug. She tried pulling on it when he started talking again.

"Well, Miss Independent, if I can't oblige in helping you remove that pesky weapon from its not-so-hidden hiding place, then perhaps you'll allow me to rest here for a while? It's been a very rough couple of days."

Ugh!

She continued to tug on the rope, but still it wasn’t coming loose. She crouched in order to put more leg power in the pull. “If you want to stay out here with the trees, I don’t really care… But I can’t trust you in my house. I don’t know you. You might try to steal something while I’m sleeping.” She pulled again, but in vain. She began to pant lightly.

Damn… This thing really wasn’t going to come out.

She took a deep breath and tried one more time with time with all her strength. However she ended up slipping on the ground and falling over.

“DAMNIT!”

Out of pure anger she threw the rope on the ground and crossed her arms in the direction of the pile of white. It was almost night and she really didn’t want to be out here when it really got dark. “Fine, Mister High and Mighty! You think you can get it out, be my guest. And if it’ll get you to leave me alone you can even spend one night. Got that? One night in my house.” She turned around and kicked the rope in aggravation.

((we should probably wrap this up soon... the other's are waiting for a time jump to the next day))

[arcanejalx]

+ Daisuke +

+ Alexandre +

+ Tatsurabi +

(Will do. I'll just get my flashy antics out of the way now. Also, I thought it was a sword stuck inside of the tree?)

“W-what? What do I care how I compare to this… Kai person? Who is Kai?!”

Daisuke decided to wait until Ember was quite finished wasting a bunch of valuable energy and effort before he would answer her question. "Oh, Kai's a little orphan girl from the capital city. She's around thirteen, if I remember correctly." He slowly got up and started to walk around the tree again, examining the chakram once more. "She's taken quite a liking to me... but only after robbing me around five times, and only because I broke her out of prison after she mistakenly played 'twing-twang' with some military officer's dog. Who knew she'd be such a deadly shot with a crossbow?" Daisuke then started to tap on different points of the tree. Either he was looking for a woodpecker, or listening for some noise. "You remind me of her - minus the differences which I've just explained to you. Ah, here we go." He stopped tapping and made sure to visualize that exact spot. Daisuke then went over to his belongings and picked up his lance. With one swift strike, he stabbed the spot he wanted.

For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, suddenly, the tree cracked around his lance and Ember's chakram, and fell with a mighty crash. "You're far too headstrong there, spitfire. If you can't get the chakram out of the tree... just get the tree out from around the chakram." He planted his lance in the ground for a few brief moments, dusted himself off, then yanked the chakram from the little bit of tree that remained around it. Daisuke placed the chakram on the ground and retrieved his lance. "I'll be taking you up on that free night now," he said with a Cheshire Cat's grin on his face. While humming some random, happy jingle to himself, Daisuke retrieved his belongings and waltzed his way into Ember's house. He laid everything near the door (though not in the way), found the nearest bedroom, and laid down on the bed. Now this is more deserving of a famous figure such as I.

+ Frostbite, n. Injury or destruction of skin and underlying tissue, most often that of the nose, ears, fingers, or toes, resulting from prolonged exposure to freezing or subfreezing temperatures. +

[.:Xhang Sen:.]

ɨf you play with fire...

λou're liable to get burned...

•·.·´¯`·.·•✿•·.·´¯`·.·•

((no, it’s a chakram... I’m pretty sure I mentioned that a couple times ^.^’’ but that’s fine. =p Also, you should know that the ‘house’ is itty bitty. Only a sitting room, a kitchen, and one bedroom with one queen sized mattress =o ))

Ember simply rolled her eyes mostly ignoring his little story about some weird little girl he met. Instead she just crossed her arms and stared lazily as he tapped at the trunk of the over grown wood. She was confused at what in the world he was doing, but she didn’t really care so long as she got her weapon back before too long.

When charged with his lance she panicked and jumped out of the way when the tree almost fell on top of her. She glared at him, “Yeah, brilliant. Thanks genius…” She was mostly sore for not thinking of something like that herself, but then again, even if she did think of that, she didn’t have a lance or any weapon that would be capable of such a task. She stood and retrieved her chakram from the ground trying to tend to her wounded pride.

And who was he to be calling her spitfire? There was no way she was going to let that slide, but she just missed him as he entered her house. “Hey! Don’t just let yourself in! Haven’t you any manners?” Like she was really one to talk about manners considering what happened earlier that day. She winced at how she might’ve hurt her sister. She really needed to figure out how to put a lid on it.

“Whatever…” she sighed and headed towards her tiny cabin.

When she got inside she didn’t see him anywhere and immediately knew where he went. She glared in the direction of her bedroom, but didn’t enter, yet. When she did, she had a pillow and blanket in hand and, just as she suspected, saw the guy laying back on her bed. She smirked, seeing she had the upper hand at this very moment. So she quietly sneaked beside the bed and bombarded him with the pillow and blanket on his face. In his confusion she kicked him onto the floor next to the bed and took her seat.

She folded her arms staring down at him. “I said you could spend the night in my house, I didn’t say you could have my bed.”

((I hope this is ok, if you have a problem with it then you can pm me and I’ll fix it >.o ))

[XenZan]

Lance Stone ~ Earth

Skips like a boulder

The sturdy man only smiled as Shaena thumped him on the shoulder, not budging in the slightest way. He had not a great deal of friends, more often he had acquaintances and something between the two. It was not that the huge smith was antisocial or standoffish, but only that most people were not fond of his rather blunt and level-headed nature. Those that were, well, he readily befriended. With a nod and a grin, Lance spoke appreciatively, a hearty, rumbling laugh accompanying his words. “Very well, Miss Shaena, very well. Say hello to Miku for me, eh?” And with that he waved a massive arm as she sauntered off to the shop.

Lance had noticed the general’s freak encounter with the officer, unsure of what to think of it. On the one hand, Lance was glad the ignorant officer had been put in line. On the other, the rigid general’s mannerism was slightly… disturbing. As most things did, however, these thoughts too ricocheted off the burly smith’s tough skin, and he pondered back over to the anvil.

Lance stared at the hammer and would-be sword before him. His concentration had been broken, rather distastefully too. He would have to work up some sort of eagerness again to proceed with his work, otherwise he couldn’t know how the final product would turn out. A meaty hand scratched his head while he stared silently at the anvil before him. His mind mulled over the events of the day, the Emperor’s need for a blacksmith struck him as slightly odd then. Surely, the Emperor had smith’s enough for his army and court. Why then did he require the services of another, singular blacksmith? Certainly, Steele’s works were of tremendous quality, but the quantity put out could not seem appealing to one seeking an outfitter for an army.

By the time these thoughts coalesced in his mind, Lance found himself working away once more. Hammer in hand, he pounded at the alloy before him. It was most certainly cooled from before, but it shaped regardless, for reasons unknown. With that, the smith lost himself in his thoughts and his work, the vortex of information swirling about his head. Thoughts of this finished blade, the Emperor’s ‘request,’ the general’s odd nature, the spy in the empire, dinner later with his two friends… Life was curious at times, but never was it devoid of busying things for the gargantuan smith.

What we are is the sum of a thousand lies
x xWhat we know is almost nothing at allxx
xBut we are what we are 'till the day we die
Or 'till we don't have the strength to go on

[arcanejalx]

+ Daisuke +

+ Alexandre +

+ Tatsurabi +

(No problem. And I didn't know how large/small Ember's cabin was, so thanks for the info.)

Daisuke had just started to enter that unexplainable state between sleep and wakefulness, and was in the middle of a dream involving fine women and fine alcohol when he was suddenly awoken by a blanket and pillow smothering him, of all things! Needless to say, he was quite surprised, and he tried to struggle against the impending fluffy material of doom, but Ember had the element of surprise - and quite a kick, to boot. He landed on the floor with a thud, and threw Ember's instruments of soft, comfortable assault off him. "Hey, hey what gives!?!?!?"

“I said you could spend the night in my house, I didn’t say you could have my bed.”

"Well, fin-" Daisuke started to say in protest, but quickly stopped. "Oh, it's not even worth arguing with you. Have it your way." He figured that he didn't want to ruin his chances of being able to actually sleep inside for the first time in a few days. "Well, I guess I'll be retiring for the night. Rest well, spitfire," he said with a teasing laugh. And before she could possibly have the chance to react, he was gone, off to the sitting room. He pulled a bedroll from his large pack of supplies and laid it on the floor. After fixing the makeshift bed the way he wanted, he laid down and started to fall back asleep - hopefully, for the rest of the night.

+ Frostbite, n. Injury or destruction of skin and underlying tissue, most often that of the nose, ears, fingers, or toes, resulting from prolonged exposure to freezing or subfreezing temperatures. +

[~::*Shinji*::~]

_____________Time Skip______________

.:Next Morning:.

Unlike any other early morning in the Empire where rays of sunshine would make its way through the windows of the elegant room, this morning was dark, gray, and dull. The sun was not going to make its usual appearance as a blanket of clouds hid its presence from the surface of the land. It almost gave the world below it a sullen undertone, as though it was a monochromatic picture. This all was reflected in a certain man's eyes as he stared out into the distance, his hands clasped gently behind his back as his expression was stern, yet tranquil. He seemed to be contemplating something as he stood statuesque, dressed in an outfit of the finest fabrics that were ornately detailed, just like the room that he was presently in.

Then, a soft knock was heard on the door.

At first, silence, but after a moment, his lips moved. "Come in," he beckoned monotonously.

A man in uniform entered through the threshold, pausing a good distance behind the man as he became stiff and raised a couple of fingers to his brow in a salute. With a wave of the silent man's hand, the General relaxed his position and bowed.

"Good morning, Emperor."

The Empire's leader closed his eyes and let out an inaudible sigh. "Did you find the spy, General?" he drawled, not moving or even bothering to look at the man he was speaking to.

"Not as of yet, Sire."

"And... the others? Have you found any of them yet?" the Emperor inquired, emphasizing certain words to get his point across without explaining.

Machine-like, the General quickly answered, "No, your Majesty, but we have sent out the order for the strip search like you requested, so it will be in no time that we discover who they are."

A momentary pause.

"...Hmm, good. Do not come back until you have completed your duties, General. I do not appreciate hearing about things that are... disappointing. You are dismissed."

"Yes, Sir," the General saluted once more, exiting the room to leave the Emperor alone once more. Not once did he stir to glance at the retreating man, nor did he feel the need to. What he wanted was delivered and he did not, frankly, wanted to be disturbed in the first place.

Still gazing out into the world beyond, the leader's eyes narrowed in silence as he thought to himself aloud, yet in the form of a whisper, a smirk playing across his lips.

"... Soon. Very soon."

(( The details of the time, weather, etc. will be on the front page. Everyone is free to post accordingly now... sorry for the wait! >.< ))

[Dragon_Lord_Akuma]

-=══════════════════════════════ Șpy══=-

There was a cold chill in the misty morning air. It had been raining all night and it only just started to lighten up. A young man in a mucky emerald cloak was trudging through the muddied streets. He had his hood pulled over his jet-black hair and a piece of his cloak covering all but his eyes. He held the fabric close to his body in order preserve the little heat he had left from the previous day. He made his way through the streets swiftly. He was looking for something. There was a halberd in his one hand that was in very poor condition, but still he hung onto it for some reason…

Suddenly he found that he couldn’t move his left foot. It had suck deeper into the mud and became undeniably stuck. What rotten luck… Or more like nonexistent. Ever since he made it into this ‘great’ Empire it seems he’s lost all luck he’d ever had… not that the luck he had before was really all that great.

Refocusing on his stuck foot, the young man used his halberd to help dig the mud away. He hadn’t planned this out at all, for when his foot did finally free itself he lost all balance and he fell, hitting his but into the cold wet mud.

How annoying…

He stood and tried to brush the mud stain off, but it only seemed to make it worse, so instead he just ignored it. He didn’t really have time for this. He need to get going before too many people decided to fill the streets. So he was on his way.

Finally! Finally he made it to his desired destination, Steele’s shop. He had heard of this family being unbelievable skilled in quality merchandise, and hoped that he could get something done. He entered the shop and looked around.

“Hello!? Is any body here?”

He called trying not to be too loud… he didn’t really want too call too much attention to himself. He laid his halberd gently on the a counter he found in front of him… his searing blue eyes gazed down at it as though hurt by the lack of care that was so obviously shown by the weapon’s current state. He wished he had the ability to better care for the long pole of metal, but he didn’t really have the means to. Only just recently was he able to attain what he hoped would be enough money to restore it. The only thing that would be in his way, was his own face.

[XenZan]

Lance Stone ~ Earth

Skips like a boulder

The burly smith worked hard against the wind and coming rain. He was constructing, or more erecting, a sort of lean-to that he had devised. It was tremendously useful during the rainy days, as it protected his outdoor smithy from elements such as precipitation and wind while still allowing for the muscled man to work outdoors. Made of sturdy steel supports and a leathery canvas-like curtain, the structure was easily set up and extended from the door to the shop out to the fence, covering the important majority of his forge. The wind was especially persistent this night, though Steele was hardly bothered by such petty forces as wind, it did make smithing difficult.

As he went about setting up his forge for the morrow, Lance reflected on his dinner that night with his friends. It wasn’t often he went out, socially, but it was something he now wished he’d do more often. The big man did so enjoy the two ladies’ company, as they were all very like-minded and got along rather well. The pair came around that evening and pulled him away from his work, and while he was disgruntled at first, Steele eventually warmed up to the idea. He had been working all day on the general’s sword, nearly having completed it through zealous work habit. His steady, albeit consuming, work ethics often found the smith without having eaten all day, however, and Shaena and Miku knew that. Thus, they swiped him from the forge and partook of food.

Crazy girls, them… He hulking man mused to himself, forcing a steel support into its slot in the ground. Stepping back to view his work, the huge man nodded to himself. Satisfied that no rain would disturb his forge this night, Steele retired for the evening, but only for a few hours. He still had much work to complete before he would allow himself to rest. Within but three hours, the sturdy smith was out at the forge again, the metallic ring of stone on steel resounding through the night, though muffled by the stormy weather. The weapon was nearing beautiful completion, and as he proceeded with the finishing touches, Steele’s raw talent finally showed itself. Gloveless, as he had neglected to don them this time around, the symbol on Lance’s hand glowed faintly, his natural Earthen gifts pouring out into the newly created blade. He carved runes, symbols, easily considered decorative elements of the weapon, of status and prestige. In reality, these were much more, imparting a supernatural element unto the master blade. Lance never knew what he was inscribing during these times, but only knew that such things came to him as he worked, a sort of unconscious passion taking over his actions.

Just as he completed the final touches on the general’s sword blade, he heard a voice from within his shop. Glancing about, almost as if trying to remember where he was, Lance grinned and shook his head. Morning already… With a grunt and a wipe of his brow, the massive man pondered his way through the open back door of the shop. “Aye, coming.” He bellowed, his voice proceeding him through the doorway. As wide as the door frame, Steele stepped through, eying the cloaked figure momentarily before approaching the counter. Looking the speaker up and down, Steele stretched before speaking again. “Morning lad.” His attention turned to the mangled polearm on the counter. I suppose I need not ask? He raised a brow and returned his gaze to the pitiful looking young man in front of him.

“You look awful, boy. Here..” Lance stepped back to the wall behind the counter, approaching a door. Pushing on it gently, it appeared stuck. With a grunt, the huge man threw his considerable weight against the door, which promptly sprung open, revealing a small room. A bed, a small desk, a bookshelf and another armor rack sat inside the room. The bed was fairly large, taking up a majority of the space, the desk being the second-most space dominating object. The bookshelf was home to many books, some clearly record-keeping tools, others perhaps used more for light reading and entertainment. Still, others were perhaps instructionary tomes, ones that taught skills or provided advice or tips on particular subjects. The armor rack was perhaps the most eye catching object in the small room. Upon it sat a suit of pristine Banded Armor, clearly too large for any but the massive smithy himself. It was finely decorated with simple earthy colored trim, browns and dark greens, and was complete with a pair of gauntlets and boots. The armor rack was the most prestigious display of everything else in the shop, and that was saying something.

Reaching around in the room, Steele retrieved a large cloth towel from a stack on top of the bookshelf. Stepping back behind the counter, the large smith offered the towel to the young man. “Dry up. And then we’ll get to business, eh?” Steele nodded, a genuine smile formed on his great bearded face. He felt bad for the boy, who looked like he had been traveling for a long while. Dirty, soaked clothes, marred weapon… Lance couldn’t just sit back and let the poor lad be miserable.

What we are is the sum of a thousand lies
x xWhat we know is almost nothing at allxx
xBut we are what we are 'till the day we die
Or 'till we don't have the strength to go on

[Isnook2]

Andrei Rofocale Sergov
xxxxxxxxI want your obedience.
xxxxxxxxxxxI want your absolute loyalty.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxI want your soul. Relinquish control to me.

Give yourself unto your God. Sacrifice yourself again.
Burn your thoughts, erase your will, To Gods of suffering and tears.

A pleased smile lingered on the general's lips as the officer made his escape like a meek little puppy who had been grabbed by the scruff of its neck and cuffed soundly. It was a tremendous pity that he couldn't do anything more to the lad without trodding on the toes of his superior and wrecking the rules of decency. Giving the smith a cursory glance, the general soon went on his way, returning to his home to retrieve a blade before he returned to his office.

~~~

Summer was a disgusting time of the year. It was during this season that the general's irritability reached its critical boundaries. He stayed awake much later in the night, in some attempt to harness the cooler temperatures for productive work. Yet it left him with fewer hours of rest and while his body complained, it was his subordinates which took the blunt force of his temper.

Even in the cold darkness of the prison walls, the man could feel the heat clinging to his body and clothes. He had shed his main uniform for something a little more casual, but the black fabrics clung to his frame with the same ominous force as fur on a panther. Violet-tinged eyes took on a silvery sheen as he stepped out into the dim moonlight, the heels of his boots clicking sharply on the stained stone as he left the building's cover and walked around the towering walls. His eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness, but even his vision dimmed a little as the rolling grey clouds obscured the pale satellite. He could just barely make out the figure chained to the block, but even then, he felt no wish to light a torch. The smell hit him a few paces later; the metallic stench of decaying blood, reeking of iron, piss and god knows what other bodily fluids which could never be washed from the slaughter square.

"We meet again." Andrei sneered, though the statement carried a heavy tinge of contempt for the wretched thing kneeling in front of him. The song of metal against scabbard greeted his ears, the reflective blade repelling any light which touched it. "I promised you we would." The general whispered softly, almost tenderly. Flesh yielded easily to his affection, but bone did not.

~~~

The pet merchant's enquiry into the general's life would yield little results; or perhaps few tasty details which many in the ranks didn't already know. He was a foreigner from unmarked lands; no known parents or immediate relatives living in Osanen. At any given time the general's forces would number between one to two thousand, depending on the rate of drafting fresh recruits, death, injury and dismissal of the more incompetant ones. Then of course, there were those who requested transfer out of his legion even if it meant getting a black mark on their service record. They received approval for their request a hundred percent of the time. The general had no wish to retain those who sought greener and more comfortable pastures. Casualties varied between twenty to forty percent of men each month, which might seem almost excessive at first but was reasonable when one took into account the difficult and sometimes suicidal objectives he was given.

His staff officer had been with him since cadet-school days, but his combat orderly, whose job was to supply anything the general might need when conducting an engagement, seldom lasted more than a week. This wasn't surprising at the least, because the general was extremely fastidious. If his tea was a few degrees too cold it would be thrown at the wall or at his combat orderly's head. He had a few notable allies within the higher ranks, but no obvious social circle of friends. If he did then they were never mentioned at work.

~~~

Morning showers lifted his spirits, but the rising humidity had limited just how refreshed he could feel. The general's forces had been scheduled for the strip-search that morning, so there was nothing he could do if it had been organized by the Emperor's word. It took less than half an hour to travel to his commander's fort located on the perimeter of the palace, unveil himself in the presence of a healer and then make his way back. It wasn't long before the sound of a horse making its way through the smith's district could be heard once more. The black stallion was decked in the military's colors, along with the general's crest and stars woven into its leather tack. It halted outside the smith's shop as the cloaked man dismounted with ease, tucking the reigns under its saddle so that it could not be easily grabbed by passerbys.

A plain sword was sheathed at the man's hip this time, but what he retrieved from the saddle was another sword, its blade wrapped in linen instead of a scabbard. If the smith did not appear at the door the general would make his way in, a gloved hand flipping the hood of his cloak back and then undraping the wet cloth from around his shoulders so that it did not drip a trail all over the floor of the shop.




Tie hallowed bonds around your hands. xxx
Kneel before this seat of shame,xxx
To Gods as lost,xxx
Gods as blind,xxx
Gods of suffering and pain.xxx

[Sothis]

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo๑ ∂ α ι ʏ υ ℓ α ɴ
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxe l e m e n t a l i s t xo f xα ι ʀ

"Daiyuuu~" Biyu draped himself around his sister's shoulders, rubbing his cheek against hers in a gesture of endearment. Daiyu was in the process of twisting her spill of dark hair into an elaborate bun; with an aggravated hiss, she snatched a hairpin from her vanity table and shoved it into her brother's arm. "Son of bi-"

"Watch your mouth." Daiyu said easily, resuming twisting her hair up carefully, before finishing with a large lotus hairpin, to match her soft pink Hanfu. Biyu just cringed and clutched at his arm where Daiyu had stabbed him. "Are you ready yet, you doddering fool? We need to go to the smithy to pick up a hoofpick and place and order for horseshoes."

"But it's raining!" Biyu protested, his voice petulant. Daiyu's glare at her brother was icy, and she said nothing when she stood with all the grace of a well-trained woman. She pulled a cloak from where it was hanging from a peg in the wall, a oiled cloth that repelled water well. It was a mute, dull color, so starkly out of place against her clothes, but it would protect her from the rain. Her bangasa was a soft pink though, to add a touch of color, and she stepped into shoes with raised soles to protect the hem of her dress from puddles. Women were experts at meeting elegance to functionality.

Ignoring her brother's aggravated shouts of portest, Daiyu unfolded her umbrella and stepped out into the streets, squinting through the mist; the rain had begun to lighten up, but it still was muggy and overcast, the kind of weather that drove many to stay at home. As such, the streets were less crowded then usual, and the woman passed through the streets of Osanen quickly, her brother shouting at her to slow down as he caught up. He finally did, grumbling under his breath, but spoke no further for fear of Daiyu and her hairpins. Daiyu herself was solely intent on making it to the blacksmith and making it home. The weather made her moody.

She nearly stepped out of her sandals she stopped so suddenly when she caught sight of the towering black stallion, an absolutely gorgeous horse; her father's horses were excellent specimens of the species, but this horse was well beyond that. 'The breeder must be very proud.' Daiyu thought privately, before stepping under the shelter of the smithy's shop, closing her umbrella and leaning it against the wall. She undid the clasp of her cloak, and shoved it into her brother's arms, again ignoring his protests; leaving him outside, dripping wet, she stepped inside the shop and stepped politely aside, regarding the other occupants with some curiosity; the stallion must belong to the pale-haired man, whose military decorations marked him a general. Daiyu bowed respectfully, regardless of whether the man even saw her; it was a measure of respect, all the same. She could only guess the general was here for a sword - that's the only thing a military commander would care for, in her mind. The care of his horse's shoes would be left to a stablehand, she was sure.

Brushing dampness from her clothes, Daiyu silently awaited her chance to place an order with the smithy.

╭__________________________________________________╮
Of course I ƒ σ ʀ ɢ ι v ε; you've seen how ι ℓ ι v ε
I've got ∂ α ʀ ҡ ɴ ε s s and ƒ ε α ʀ s to α ρ ρ ε α s ε
my ν σ ι c ε s and α ɴ α ℓ σ ɢ ι ε s
α м в ι т ι σ ɴ s like ʀ ι в в σ ɴ s
worn в ʀ ι ɢ h т on my s ℓ ε ε v ε
╰__________________________________________________╯

[arcanejalx]

+ Daisuke +

+ Alexandre +

+ Tatsurabi +

Daisuke awoke to the pitter-patter of raindrops on the roof of Ember's small cabin. He sleepily walked over to the door and opened it, only to see the rain start to intensify. Well, this is ******** amazing... he thought to himself with a large yawn. Figures that it starts to rain when I'm only a day's journey away from the Imperial City. Guess I'm not heading out anytime soon. Confident that Ember would look into the goodness of her heart and let him stay at least another day, Daisuke closed the door and dragged his pack of supplies into the sitting room. Luckily, Ember had a fireplace and a small stock of dried wood, and the rain wasn't coming in through the chimney too badly. He built up a small fire in the fireplace, then lit it with some tinder from his pack. As the small fire started to consume the wood, the room started to grow a bit warmer - or at least warm enough to be comfortable.

After feeding the growing fire with a bit more wood, he dragged his pack into the kitchen, where a small spit and more dried wood awaited him. He opened his pack and pulled out dried meat, spices, and vegetables that he had either gathered for himself or accepted from gracious villagers. Hmmm... I've got enough for about another two days here, he thought as he examined his food supply. I'll have to stock up again, but it shouldn't hurt me too much if I stay here another day. Daisuke seasoned some of the meat and placed it on the spit, then started searching for a pan, pot, or something else that would let him cook the vegetables; he was a whirlwind of wondrous cooking activity as the minutes passed. If all went well, Ember would wake up to the heavenly aroma of breakfast, waiting for her in the kitchen.

+ Frostbite, n. Injury or destruction of skin and underlying tissue, most often that of the nose, ears, fingers, or toes, resulting from prolonged exposure to freezing or subfreezing temperatures. +

[Dragon_Lord_Akuma]

-=══════════════════════════════ Șpy══=-

The young man had been looking around what little he could see of the shop before being startled by a booming voice that approached him. He stepped back involuntarily not expecting the man who owned this shop to be so… huge. This was really bad. If he wasn’t careful he wouldn’t be able to win against this metal smith, he began to wonder if he’d even be able to escape him. Then again, the smith looked as though he focused more on strength, which could mean that his speed was lacking… if the young man was lucky.

The only problem was, this confrontation was unavoidable. He really needed his weapon to be in prime shape in order to defend himself from those who hunted him. And a new weapon was simply out of the question…

The young man was caught off guard by the massive man’s warm greeting. The young man wasn’t sure how to respond, no one had taken the time to greet him in such a way. It was usually more along the lines of cold skepticism. He could understand, after all, he was pretty suspicious looking. The fact that he was so incredibly dirty looking also made him look like a beggar and most people, as he’s come to learn, didn’t appreciate beggars. Try to keep his overwhelming thoughts at bay, he resolved to respond with a simple, but unusually quiet, “Good morning…”

When the smith burst through the stuck door, the young man tensed and narrowed his eyes in serious concern. As little as he liked being here, it was necessary. Just incase his piecing blue eyes darted around the room for all possible escape routs. It was a habit that he’d developed since coming to this country. Especially consider all the trouble that he consistently ran into. He was still looking around when he felt a chill run up his spine. He shivered lightly being reminded that he was still sopping wet from the ran that past night.

He turned back to the smith who was now offering him a towel. Again, the young man found himself caught completely off guard by this man’s unusual kindness. It was… refreshing to see in someone, anyone in this country. It felt as though ever since both the previous emperors died this land had gone straight to hell, taking all the inhabitants with it. He wasn’t exactly expecting warm welcomes when he first arrived, but the way he’d been treated was a great deal worse than he anticipated.

“Th-thank you…”

He timidly received the towel from the larger man, almost expecting it to be laced with poison. Despite his better judgment he allowed himself to relax a bit as he pressed the warm dry cloth to his face. It smelled really good. Without even realizing it he had pushed down his veil and his hood in order to dry out his hair and face completely.

He rested the towel on his now lightly damp jet-black hair as his eyes gazed down at the polearm in front of the both of them. He shrugged off a large, but mostly empty bag from his shoulder to the floor. He opened it and produced a smaller bag that was filled to the brim with coins. He placed it on the counter for the blacksmith to observe before speaking, “I’ll pay anything… but please… can you restore this for me?” He tried so hard, but couldn’t avoid the hint of desperation in his voice.

Then he heard the sound of the others approaching and entering the smith’s shop and, in a panic, the young man unwittingly pulled his hood over his damp hair and the towel that still rested there and he lowered his head hoping that no one else would see his face. He cursed himself silently for being so careless.

[XenZan]

Lance Stone ~ Earth

Skips like a boulder

The mammoth smith nodded approvingly as the young man accepted the towel, drying off. Poor lad. Certainly, the boy was not terribly younger than Lance, but the chiseled blacksmith always did feel and come off as older than he really was.

Steele eyed the boy’s garb curiously. It was a strange dress, even for outsiders. It had been raining though, so Lance thought no more of the secretive covering over the man’s face. Clearly the young man was not from around here and had been traveling for a long while. When coupled with the awful weather of the past night… The boy removed his hood and veil, revealing his face and features. Lance cocked his head, raising a brow. The boy looked familiar, despite obviously being an outsider to this country. Surely…

The young man produced a bag, filled with coins, and set it upon the counter. The smith’s brown eyes shifted to view the marred polearm while his ears took in the boy’s words. His expert professionalism took over then, his gaze nearly scanning the weapon for errors, misuse, and damage. Practically full-blown schematics formed in his mind of how the weapon ought to appear and what he could do to restore it to its true form. It would not be difficult, not for Steele, to restore the weapon. But the huge smith never thought in simplest terms. No, he would not only restore it, but improve it, as he always did. Many customers never became aware of this fact, as he never charged extra for his obsession.

He was shaken from his brief mental scheming at the sound of the main door opening, twice. Lifting his bearded face, Lance eyed the newcomers momentarily. He recognized the general from the previous day. Odd. I had yet to send a message concerning his blade. The hulking smith assumed the rigid general had other reasons for being here. Lance’s gaze flickered over the elegantly dressed woman who had followed the general into his humble shop. His eyes widened, if only momentarily, as he took in the lady’s features, her posture, her dress. It was rare that her sort ever set foot through that door.

Shaking his head, the gargantuan man let out a quiet, but gruff grunt, returning his attention to the young man before him. All the commotion and distraction had temporarily caused him to forget about the boy’s face, and when he returned his gaze, the man had recovered himself, rather swiftly. Mighty paranoid, aren’t we boy?... he pondered to himself, his mind painting out the image of the man’s face once more. I know I’ve seen you somewhere… With a hefty shrug, the smith dismissed his thoughts. Business is business.

“Aye, lad, I can fix it. And ye really aren’t going to need that much money.” Steele nodded, giving a bearded grin. “Minor repairs, really. A few adjustments here, some slight tempering, remolding, sharpening…” as he spoke, his hands swiftly passed over the weapon’s features, indicating what he was talking about. Lance hardly ever expected anyone untrained in the craft to understand everything he spoke of at times like this, but he wanted at least to show them, for the sake of trust. “In fact, if you want any modifications to the original design, improvements and the like, I can do that too. I’ll only charge ya five coins, for the lot of it.” The huge man crossed his thick arms over his massive chest, the grin on his face turning to a smile as he awaited the young man’s response. He did not like the idea of keeping the general waiting, but he had business to take care of first. Surely, the disciplined military man would understand the need for order, even in such trivial concepts as waiting in line. As for the young woman behind him, well.. Lance had no desire to keep her waiting in the heat of his shop any longer than he had to either, but again, there was an order to things.

What we are is the sum of a thousand lies
x xWhat we know is almost nothing at allxx
xBut we are what we are 'till the day we die
Or 'till we don't have the strength to go on

[Isnook2]

Andrei Rofocale Sergov
xxxxxxxxI want your obedience.
xxxxxxxxxxxI want your absolute loyalty.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxI want your soul. Relinquish control to me.

Give yourself unto your God. Sacrifice yourself again.
Burn your thoughts, erase your will, To Gods of suffering and tears.

If the general had placed an identity to the boy's face, he did not show it. Rather, he had almost dismissed the soggy little runt as an unimportant figure. The lad's mistake however, was in being so eager to mask his features. Few people would throw their hood back on when they had a towel in their hair. It didn't make sense since it made it more difficult for the water to evaporate. The man's intense gaze locked upon the hooded figure like a falcon having chosen its target, broken only for a few split seconds when he hung his dripping coat up on a hook by the doorway.

The arrival of the lady was untimely however, for it suddenly threw his priorities into disarray. While the smith could obviously fend for himself in his own weaponstore, the civilian might not be able to do the same. As with most military people, he instantly assumed that the lady was at risk of being taken hostage. There were too many weapons on display in the store, and the lad whom he suspected to be the rogue they were searching for, could all too easily grab one if he wanted to. His mind quickly debated letting the lady go first, which his own sense of decorum and upbringing agreed with. But if the general remained an unoccupied and threatening pressence in the store, would this pressure the spy to do something as drastic holding a blade to her throat in favor of securing his own escape? The troubling thought was set aside quickly, his decision made before his feelings could agree with it.

He gave a polite nod in return to the lady's bow, taking a step forward to engage the smith's attention a little earlier and to strategically place himself between the lady and the soggy lump. He did not speak immediately however, bringing the unsheathed sword forward so that he could start unravelling the long strips of linen which were wrapped around its marred blade. By the time he had finished drawing the mildly damp cloth from the scarred metal, surely the criminal would have agreed with the smith's offer. Although the blade had been wrapped neatly, the cloth now formed a slightly messy pile on the floor near the general's ankles; not directly beneath him however, but to the side of his foot as if he were discreetly making a very simple obstacle for the lad to hop over. When the last of the white strip fell away, the general tilted the weapon a little before letting it hang loosely from his right hand. If he wanted to unsheath the sword hanging at his belt, he would have to use his left arm, but he did not want to alarm the brat too much.

"There's a communal bath on the western side of town. It would do you some good not to be trailing mud all over some of our paved streets." The general murmured discontentedly, holding the tip of the damaged sword toward the floor. As battered as it was, it was still usable in an emergency such as this, and it still retained its tapered shape even if its tip had been snapped and bent.




Tie hallowed bonds around your hands. xxx
Kneel before this seat of shame,xxx
To Gods as lost,xxx
Gods as blind,xxx
Gods of suffering and pain.xxx

[~::*Shinji*::~]

ℛ α c q υ є ℓ....❅.... 𝕮 α и δ є ℓ α я ι α

Underneath my lucid skin
The cold is lost, forgotten

Even though her hood was up, she could feel the climate change on her skin as she made her way through the marketplace, her dapple gray horse carefully walking beside her. The coolness of the air was refreshing to her, but the humidity from the season reminded her that it wasn't going to get colder anytime soon. For some reason, the cold never seemed to bother her, even as a child... snow was especially her favorite, even to this day. Racquel almost wished that the water droplets that had been on and off falling from the sky would turn into the familiar white crystals. However, the unusual summer day was something that she was enjoying unlike everyone else, it having been too hot to her liking as of late. Summer was not one of her favorite seasons.

With such weather, the streets were not nearly as crowded as usual, allowing her animal the freedom to walk as it pleased without having the worries of getting in other people's way. Artemis swished its tail as its hooves clicked against the stone paved path, not minding where Racquel was leading him. Her yellow eyes seemed to glow from underneath her hooded cape as she reached her destination - Shaena's pet store.

She had convinced her parents that she was out of some supplies for her horse, so they allowed her to go purchase them... which was actually true. And this store - this was where she always came to get her horse feed, and because of that, the owner and Racquel had started to form a friendship of sorts. It was unusual for the pale, delicate girl to have friends, especially someone from a lower class, but she never saw such trivial things as important when it came to relationships, unlike her parents.

Once in front of the shop, she settled her horse by the front door of the establishment and quickly made her way into the place, a small bag of coins now resting in one of her hands. Coming in to recognize the small set-up, the smells rushing up to greet her, along with the heat from all of the bodies collected in one room, she couldn't help but let her lips curl into a small smile. It was nice to be out of the house, away from her family.

As the water from outside started to finally soak into her cloak and reach her outfit and pale skin, she gently pushed the hood back, revealing her pure white hair, aside from the deep red streaks that were considered bangs, her free hand reaching up to fix it as she glanced around for the owner of the store.

"Shaena...?" Racquel called out hesitantly, not wanting to disturb her if she was tending to another customer.

My mouth is so frozen I can't even speak
You're making it hard for me
All I can do is freeze