s a m p s

[armageddon-en-rose]

[armageddon-en-rose]

▀ ❜xxWe're a thousand miles⋮ from comfort 】
xxxxxxxxxxxx「WE STALKED OUT ON A MISSION TO FIND OUR INNER PEACE xxxxx██████████████xxxxx
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xxxxxxxxxxxxx★ | MAKE IT ( EVERLASTING ) SO NOTHING'S INCOMPLETE


Somehow, she felt like she should've expected that kind of reply: the damage was done nonetheless. The seimei's expression drooped the second those words hit her ear. Okay, maybe it wasn't totally appropriate to act so familiarly when the two were still basically strangers, but did they really have to be so, so honest?

"I . . . just thought," her lips shut tight when she heard her name get called from across the street. Turning her attention to the familiar voice, she felt herself grow just slightly more tense. Terumi's presence had the possibility of encouraging Shoumei to get their chill together, though even if they did, Terumi was probably going to go on high alert. She'd always had this thing about Izumi staying away from her humans (she always assumed it was a control thing). Then there was Kazuki; he at least seemed to be in high spirits, but this kid always made it a point to be so damn abrasive, things could only get better or worse.

Perhaps it was best to just shake off the last few minutes and pretend Shoumei's blatant rejection didn't make her feel like she got socked in the gut. "Look who decided to show up," she greeted, smiling sheepishly. "We were just talking about you, Terumi. I think your partner here just challanged me––" When Kazuki made that rather off hand comment, she tensed even more, but somehow felt a little relieved: by comparison, she should look at least marginally better, right?

That certainly didn't stop her from getting scolded, tho. A moment passed before she noticed her mouth was hanging wide open. She watched Terumi and her human waltz away, then glanced at the ground in defeat.

. . . Rude? They called her rude.

"They called me rude," she echoed aloud, the word feeling like vinegar in her throat. She turned her head to look at Kazuki: the one person who seemed kind of glad too run into her was one of the last people she'd prefer to spend time with. But for now, after that, she wasn't going to let that get to her. "I'm not rude, am I Kazuki . . . ? I mean I was just trying to be friendly. Maybe I did come on too strongly. Oh, why did Terumi have to apologize to you and then scold me?"

Izumi pouted and kicked her feet as she spoke; she handing the untouched skewers to Kazuki (as Shoumei didn't take them). "Here, I'm not hungry anymore," she offered, probably just going to throw them away if they were rejected a second time. "Do you think I should apologize? Or would that just be more of a bother to them? I mean I honestly don't know what I really did wrong, I act like that with everyone and no one's really had much trouble with me. Oh! Maybe I could give them my token!" She entertained the idea, then shook her head. "No, then I'd definitely be more trouble . . . "

A sigh escaped her lips–she practically deflated like a sad balloon–as she crossed her arms, examining the crowd around them. The game was about to begin. "So where's that weird companion of yours anyways? I hope he isn't causing trouble somewhere."

[armageddon-en-rose]

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✘________ _ _ _xxxxxx ━ ❛{L}ocations :: wayworld xxxx ━ ❛{C}ompany :: horsemen, praxisxxxx ━ ❛{A}pperal :: xxxxxxx ━ ❛{S}oundtrack :: xxx


You know, the couple of hours they got to spend pretending they weren't chained to that
******** bank were nice. And then here he comes, their goddamned chaperone. Rosie had a
particular distaste for this one, too; he was way too stoic, wouldn't let her rile him up.
That's probably the only reason he got the job.

"Kids", he called them: she wanted to make sure he'd never be able to have any for that.

But, she could feel Ludo trying to be the bigger man and keep everyone cool. She didn't
mind if she got put under fire for "unsatisfactory behavior" herself––it's something she's
kind of used to––but it wouldn't be good for her friends. For now, she cooperate. Mostly.

"Don't worry big brother," she tacks on to the end of Ludo's explanation with a cheeky
smile. "We're planning on having a quiet night. A little fun, a lot of cholesterol; I'm
thinking I'm just gonna beat one of the mascots so they won't find the body til
morning, that way we can be in bed by 9:30." She punctuated her statement by
sticking out her tongue and flipping the bird. She hopes he complains to Warren later.

For whatever reason, Pyrrha had decided to stand up, and that's when you know it's time
to start moving. So Rosie pushed herself up off the bench ( away from Prax, of course ) and
strutted to stand next to Keith, leaning against him with familiarity. "Oh, you know what
else we could do? We could chase some poor ******** into the haunted house, make him
part of the decor. Then let's take bets on how long it takes them to figure it out." She
took off her beaning and began twirling it around her finger. "I bet a couple of weeks,
it smells like death in there already."

Sure, she was exaggerating her intentions a bit––there was zero interest in actually killing
anyone than in just proving she could––but it was always good to keep people guessing.
Despite everything, she had her doubts that this guy had any real power over them.
Anything to remind him to keep his distance from the major league players was helpful.
Why Ludo bothered with civility was beyond her.

"Food first though. I don't like tussling on an empty stomach." Her left elbowe nudged
Keith along towards the nearest deep-fried-whatever stand, her right hand grabbing onto
Ludo's long hair to yank gently as she went. Ludo was expected to take Pyrrha with them,
but she shot the girl a meaningful look nonetheless, telling her it what time to ditch the
babysitter.

She paused for a moment, glancing around the perimeter of Pyrrha's little nest. Grabbing
the jacket she'd lent the girl to nestle in, she swung it over her shoulder and raised an
eyebrow. "What happened to your new friend? You didn't eat him or sacrifice him or
something right?" Keith was supposed to be in charge of doing that kind of weird s**t.

[armageddon-en-rose]

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tab ❛[L]ocations :: worst cop drama ever xxxx ━ ❛[C]ompany :: lost strangers xxxx ━ ❛[A]pperal :: glamouredxxxx ━ ❛[S]oundtrack :: xxx

he didn't know whether to be relieved or worries when he found out he wasn't totally alone out here. the collision had knocked the wind right out of him––not so much from the force, but definitely from the shock––this other guy hadn't been there a second ago. thankfully, he seemed friendly enough.

he shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched over, a habit he couldn't resist when he had to keep his wings folded so close to his back. "that makes two of us," he mumbled, scuffing the sole of his left foot against the crack pavement. he could feel his hair begin to bristle.

and by the time the second stranger made her entrance––she touched him––he was certain it was standing up on end. the way she talked about 'humans' and taking 'precautions' . . . he couldn't help but get deeply unnerved. "h-hey! i'm not like that-!" he said, in reference to her offer to kill her. his voice came out cracking slightly. (still going through alien-puberty). "i mean, i'm not that kind of . . . person. . . "

that was when they had another sudden change of scenery, and at this point, fido was sure this was just some weird earth anomaly that they don't talk about in movies and reality tv. the alien was too spooked and feeling way too light headed to do anything but comply: this person was dressed in (perceived) business attire, so they must be important.

the good thing about this setting, at least, was that it was somewhat familiar. this was like on those crime shows! scrambling detectives finding impossible clues, no-nonsense lady cops out for justice, "this time, it's personal", and the true criminal is always the biggest plot twist––

fido could only wonder what exactly his role was in all this . . . uh oh.

it took him a few minutes to realize he was the first on the hot seat. "uh!" he squeaked, shooting up in his chair like his once again bristling hairs. oh, s**t, what are you supposed to do in this situation again? "m-my name is fido la'blanch! and, um," he paused, his eyes going glossy as he lost his train of thought.

wait, what had he been doing? when even was sixteen hours ago? he was starting to forget how time worked on this planet. actually, he couldn't remember how time worked on his own planet . . . but never mind that now! hours, those were the kinda long ones, and 12 of them equals half a whole rotation, so that must mean it was about half a sleep cycle ago, and by the looks of the street lamps outside, that must mean that . . . oh s**t he was just confusing himself more. okay, buddy, just make something up!

"sixteen hours ago, i was . . . talking to my mom," he mumbled. it seemed right to him. "there's some trouble happening back home! it's um, something about invaders and climate change, very serious stuff. very complicated. hard to explain. we talked for a very, very long time."

he at least had the advantage of knowing that he spent most of his time talking to his clan's matron; still, he was trying his hardest not to look guilty.

[armageddon-en-rose]

tab tab tab location :: cypress forest tab tab tab company :: a bunch of strangers tab tab tab ooc :: FINALS DONE here i am




White knuckles wrapped around her notebook in a death grip; you might even think that the pale, worn hands keeping it so close to her chest were of that of a corpse. But the woman clenching the tattered journal was, indeed, very much alive, for as long as that could last. For a moment, the rustling in the trees made her feel like this was a nice change of pace. If only she knew how she even got here.

The letter was neatly folded and secure between the pages of her notebook, its words still turning in her brain.

From the very start she knew this, what ever was going on, was going to be a rocky journey for her. Nothing looked familiar, and for someone who made their life's work knowing the wilderness and the creatures within it, that was particularly chilling. It was clear this place probably wasn't going to run on any semblance of logic or science she knew, and this only made her confusion that much more uneasy. Every rustle and snap of a twig made her hair stand on end.

This notebook as well: something was... alien about it. A fruit you've seen but never tasted. She definitely recognized its binding, and the handwriting inside––it was her own––and the was the pages felt between her fingers. But little details caught her by surprise, like the tone she found herself hearing as she read the notes in her head. For now, it was better to keep it closed.

She'd been trotting in one direction, hoping to find a road against her better judgement and instincts, for a little while now. Her efforts to listen for passing cars faded as she found she could only make out the wind in the leaves, and the calls of distant animals, or beast... Then, something entirely different. Something, maybe, worse.

Voices, people's voices. Nothing imposing, threatening, or even particularly unpleasant: nonetheless, they made Adele stop in her tracks, made her pause and hold her breath and listen. From what she could make out, it seemed like these folk were just idly chatting. Nevertheless, she was tense. From where she stood she was well hidden, and could just make out the forms of the group through the trees. Hoping they didn't notice her, Adele decided it was best to bide her time, for now, and watch what these strangers did.

At the moment, she only noticed three: two women, both of them seemingly older than her, and a guy who was maybe a little younger. Each of them were just as confused as the other, as she was, so it seemed.

No, they probably weren't any danger to her––if anything, it'd probably be better to stick with other humans in case that letter could be trusted––but she held back still, considering her best approach to their odd little predicament. Maybe they knew who this Walter guy was . . .

[armageddon-en-rose]

music box // one two

"Come one, come all! Bombast, romance and the depths of souls await you here!"

The tent is expanding; you can almost see those think black and white lines grow longer and longer upwards. The music was already erie and imposing enough; now it's just a slew of high-pitched strings and off-beat boom. It's almost like the whole tent is spinning.

At least, the center ring has begun to rotate; standing now on a pedestal, the Ringmaster waves their magic wand around as their perch slowly rises with the height of the tent, adding yet another layer of complicating to your mission.

"A Lion Tamer attacked by his own pet; a Freak outcasted for wearing his misery on his skin; a Clown who can only bring laughter through her own pain; an Acrobat who can only find their way down."

The crowd is roaring over the orchestra, and lights dim on their faces; they are only the highlights of their features casting shadows over the valleys of their expressions.

While seemingly fumbled and brought to the ground for a moment under the weight of the Acrobat landing on his back, Warren's Lion picked himself up and freed himself before opting to ignore the unfamiliar boy in favor of heading towards the one projecting him. He roars as his fangs grow larger and more hellish before taking a good snap at him. But not all hope is lost; the pitiful creature's own body will be his downfall before long, as his skin seems to be peeling off.

The hands grab Ludo from every direction, not appreciating being ignored and avoided so easily. One group of hands grabs his from behind, pulling his back against the bars as hard as they can, needles sticking themselves into Ludo's back. However, in the fray, one of the hands gets crushed under the force of Ludo's assault, and they all seem to cringe and withdraw slightly; the hands are all part of the same living body, and if you cause harm to one, you harm them all.

The Knife Throw is growing visibly bored, and impatient with his target; the crowd emulates his sentiment, as they are not bellowing with excitement, but disappointment. All they want is to see something funny, and nothing's funnier to them than the poor girl's pain. Hana's attacker seems to be trying to win back their affections, however; ever the egotist, he's doing tricks with his knives before throwing them, whatever it takes to please them. He's becoming more and more involved with himself instead of his attacks, and that's leaving him vulnerable.

Lucio had his crowd in a frenzy; no one quite expected him to take to flying so easily, and his 'enthusiasm' mixed with sudden talent has raised his popularity greatly. This doesn't change the fact that Valorie is after him, and in fact, she seems to be pissed that their fans have taken to him so quickly. Thankfully, she didn't have to do much by way of his demise: as soon as Lucio's feet hit the ground, his crowd went silent. They're waiting for him to do something else amazing and unexpected at this point. If Lucio can't deliver, not only will he be at the mercy of his sister, who has taken to swinging around his direction, trying to grab him with each swoop, but even more so will he be in danger of his adoring audience.

And still, at the top of the center pedestal, the Ringmaster dances.

"Come one, come all! The Carnival of Hopelessness is here to amaze!!"

[armageddon-en-rose]

Autumn was a lovely season in it's own right, but also . . . frustrating. For one, her allergies were always irritated around this time: by the eighth sneeze that morning, she was certain someone was spreading rumors about her. The second thing was that the weather never liked to follow the rules. She could fall asleep to warm evening breezes and wake up the next day to find frost choking her flowers. Even today was one of those wildcard days, where an overcast sky threatened rain, but there was no real way to know for sure until you get caught in a storm without a cloak. The third thing, and probably worst thing, was that it was hard to make a wilting garden look presentable for the cathedral's visitors.

It would have been much worse if this had been a couple of years ago. When she first started as the gardener, she quickly learned what a hack the guy before her had been. For one, the grounds were mostly full of annuals. It was completely baffling to her, like he had avoided perennials altogether, like he was trying to make more work for himself. And those annuals weren't even chosen very strategically: they didn't promote any particularly beneficial energies, they weren't good for attracting favorable fauna like butterflies, and there wasn't any thought to bringing in and fall or winter bloomers. No useful herbs, no protective ferns, and no shady trees: that other guy had obviously just picked whatever looked good to him and tossed it in the soil.

Now, Basil might not be much of a designer, and she doesn't have a lot of interest in the fancier, more delicate flowers that take a little extra care. What she does know, though, is how to make the earth happy. Every bloom and shrub and sprout are rooted with care, and every one of them has an important role in their community. There are plants picked for their meaning, some for medicinal purposes, and some to balance out the soil. And of course, every living thing on those grounds were given what they need: just enough water, just enough sunlight, and just the right dwarven touch to make them grow strong.

Now that fall had arrived, her plants were ready to take a good long rest for the colder seasons. There would be witch hazel, snowdrops, and holly berries to brighten up the cathedral come winter, but for now she had to deal with all the unsightly withered remain of summer. And while leaves of red and brown still held fast to their branches, by the fourth week, they'd be nothing but a tangle of dark, bare limbs.

From where she strolled, bare feet against well-tread cobblestone, she could spot one such tree. The only problem was, it should still have leaves around this time of year, and be burning with autumn color. She imagined something so lively and bright would be a welcome contrast to the gloominess of a cemetery. This must be what Olivia had asked her about: the tree she can't seem to nurse back to health, like the spirits of the deceased were trying to drag it down with them. She didn't know the groundskeeper too personally at this point––the woman liked her privacy, after all––but it was apparent enough that she was competent at her job. The fact that she had to ask Basil for help just showed what a problem this was.

And Basil could see why it would be a problem: a graveyard should have healthy landscaping to welcome those there to visit past loved ones. An ugly, dead tree kind of sends the wrong message.

Speaking of Olivia, there she was, standing in wait at the front gates of the cemetery. The dark, lovely woman stood tall (to be fair, everyone was tall to the dwarfette), and while Basil had a hard time figuring out what, there was something about her that made her fit so well with the atmosphere of the graveyard. Something mysterious, curious. It was probably rude to pry, so she'd would keep it to herself.

Basil wondered it she was late: that wouldn't be a first. Her hand patted the pouch at her side purposefully, as if to tell herself, don't forget! But that would wait until later.

"Good afternoon dear!" the dwarfette greeted, trotting the last stretch before she stood in front of the other woman. "Sorry I took my time there, this place is a bit further than I thought." She nodded her head in the direction of the unhappy patient. "I reckon this is that tree you told me about? You weren't kidding when you said it needed some TLC." Crossing her arms, she let herself into the cemetery, taking care not to step on any graves. Her home culture was better about handling death than some, but Basil's superstitions could get the best of her: her thumbs were carefully tucked into balled fists. "It's nothing we can't handle though, aye?"

Yes, Basil knows how to make the earth happy, maybe even when that earth is a home for corpses.


❛ Locations :: cemetery tab ❛ Company :: olivia tab ❛ Mentions :: ? ? ?
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❛ SO FAR FROM ME NOW ♔ OH I CAN HEAR THE SOUND ❜