Mira replied to Xuza as soon as she made her presence known. hitting the perfect 3 minute mark.
"Most of this worlds toughest decisions were made under pressure in a matter of 10 seconds or less. Yet you've wasted 18 times that margin to follow a simple task? While you can even teleport few seconds ago to this place at any given moment you desired? Xuza, are you even taking this school... your position as a DMWA member seriously?"
Poor Xuza had signed herself for a long one this time. still it would seem that Xuza was the one that always got the worse from Mira or the one Mira always demanded more... even more than Yako.
"And here I was actually contemplating the idea of entrusting you with a life or death case, but given your poor management of time I can see I've been wrong about you all this time."
Severe, unforgiving. Mira didn't seem to like being late or people being late for appointments, but was this really necessary?
Posted: Fri Aug 26, 2016 7:52 pm
Nebbia d Argento
Xuza Uriel: "Angel of Death"
Xuza was about to flip her lid. There was no way she was going to let some condescending old shrew wrestle her confidence to the ground and mash her into a paste; a confused substrate of a human mind as she carried it, and as it came to her it was in two parts: be decisive, and be thoughtful. it defeated her past anger, and she threw up her hands and sighed.
"I just can't win with you, can I?" Oh yes, the victim game it was. "Well, when the world is destroyed, just know who really made a mistake, huh?"
"And I was just about to start researching the Iron Phoenix and look for leads on Paradox. ... I assume that's somehow off-limits now?" The truth was, Xuza could only be intimidated so much. After a while Mira had cornered her, made her snarky, made her snarl on the inside.
Smoke-light level: 300 Soul: good Soul Resonance: off Xylem: up
"Don't you play the victim. I know pretty well I'm the one to blame. I'm the one who looked up to you, who overestimated you and believed you could to much more. Still I believe you can do great with other mentor. Feel free to pick one I'll send my recomendation. I'm not forcing you to remain on this unit any more."
Mira would look through the files on the folder she was carrying just now.
"As a matter of fact, the Iron Phoenix and Paradox are recently new files. With the poor amount of information the intelligence department has gathered I've had the need to open up a few slots in our departent given we haven't reach the quality needed to keep the department afloat. You may look at your school program, there would be plenty of teachers this year. I wouldn't be as heartless as to fire them from the institution."
As the subject continued Mira placed eyes on Xuza.
"If you achieve a 2 star tank within DMWA you may be able to access the Iron phoenix or paradox. Given they haven't earned enough merit to be sealed as ultimately classified information... of course that is if you earn those starts"
Posted: Mon Aug 29, 2016 3:28 pm
Nebbia d Argento
Xuza Uriel: "Angel of Death"
Wasn't Yata a three-star weapon-tech? If it's like that, shouldn't I just be able to have him get all the info for me? ... Well then.
"I'm not sure why you feel the need to insult me so much," rejoined the winged one with her normal fiery disposition, but you're definitely not the only one here who's unimpressed." It was always very important for others to see her as someone not worthy of pity; and so it went that each of her interactions often came down to a crap-shoot on whether or not she would actually lose face: the tactless gambit of a homeless girl with a roof over her head. She folded her arms.
"Kind of an odd thing to say about the situation anyway," noted Xuza, gesturing up to the folders; "it implies you know more about Paradox than I do. Do you really want my help, or are you just being difficult?" For whatever reason, Xuza simply wasn't having it today. It felt incredible!
"I'll humor you, though, O ye of little potential," she chuckled, "what do I have to do to earn these stars?"
Smoke-light level: 300 Soul: good Soul Resonance: off Xylem: up
"Oh, we're feeling bold today don't we? Good, keep that energy. And If you die I swear you won't hear the end of it." A congratulation? Probably not as Xuza would find herself between Mira and a bookshelf. Folder now pressing her back against the shelf while the file itself pressed against her chest, Mira's hands on the oposite side as she looked at Xuza fiercely. "I've got a job even an amateur could do. It's called babysit, ever heard of it?" While it was remarkably brave to stand your feet against Mira, this didn't meant by any means Mira would grow softer on you, on the contrary, she would treat you like any other subbordinate she had on the bureau. Which... judging by Xuza's current rank and position... it was hard to tell if this was good or bad. I mean, on the bright side Xuza would't be treated like an ignorant child anymore, now Mira would treat Xuza like any other adult... the bad side to it was... well Mira would treat Xuza like any other adult. "The only problem here is that someone wants your package dead and would probably kill you off if that needs to be done in order to kill your package. Protect the target for 24 hours and you'll see your credential holding 2 stars before you even blink. Make it 3 days and I'll personally condecorate you with 3 stars. Fail me or worst die on me and I promise you I'll drag your a** out from hell and make you miss the afterlife Xuza cause you'll become my Zombie secretary until the end of days." It would seem that Mira was entrusting her with something big, within the shadows. For her to go as far as to treat Xuza like an adult, or she simply didn't like being defied.
Posted: Tue Sep 06, 2016 3:10 pm
Nebbia d Argento
Xuza Uriel: "Angel of Death"
Get in my face will you! ... What shampoo is that?
"Simple, not easy. Gotcha." It was much easier for Xuza to appear aloof and lure her eyes away with the coordinated distraction of the noise level in the library, complete with a hair-flip. Though Mira had chosen her timing well; the entire library was empty, hollowed out like the ghostly body of some squash in overcast October. When that moment of melting chiding had passed, Xuza looked back to her new director.
"So where is this 'package'? Not that I wanna get this piece of busy-work out of the way or anything; I just want to get that promotion as soon as possible..." She made it clear: "You're on my time now." Why was that? Isn't it obvious? Paradox. Once she had clearance they were going to see the meister in a light they hadn't yet seen her: strong and bold; poised and yet cuthroat when needed. A Weapons technician for the books.
Smoke-light level: 300 Soul: good Soul Resonance: off Xylem: up
Mira would toss Xuza a smartphone, should the meister's reflexes be careless (which I doubt) the smartphone would smack the girl's face with the risk of rupturing the screen. Mira smirked, pissed clearly. Yet she wasn't going to lie or keep composure for Xuza. As she was now an employee, not a student anymore. "On the contraire Uriel you are wasting precious time. You arrived Late. And your predecesor happened to have died while we had this useless chat about how great it is to speak your mind in front of your superior. Now get your a** on the park and find the girl on the smartphone file before the killer does or I'll shove that credential up your spine. Now!"
There was no time to waste.
Posted: Wed Sep 07, 2016 12:24 pm
Nebbia d Argento
Xuza Uriel: "Angel of Death"
"Well...?" Cut off from being too cool, the meister had her expectations thrown in her face--literally! She juggled the device with deft panic between ruin and success. "Hey!" She trailed off, though, listening to what her apparent new boss had to say. Needless to say she didn't find Mira anymore charming now than moments prior.
"Grr--SHUT UP!" Xuza snapped, turning and swiping a row of books and stomping through thin air to warp herself away. She didn't even register what was being said. All she knew was that for whatever reason the old, surly head of intel had a knack for getting under Xuza's skin--as well as a habit for doing so--and that any exposition she might have disclosed was buried in idle nagging while she sifted through the garbage to find her true meaning: go to the park.
{exit}
Smoke-light level: 300 Soul: good Soul Resonance: off Xylem: up
With the youngish brat gone Mira would rub her templar with a hand. "She better be worth it..." Mira picked her smart phone and started dialing the Intelligence department. "Hello? Yes. About that promotion I've talked you about. Make it 3 stars the minimum. If she doesn't do spectacular. I want her out of this. Also, move Paradox and the phoenix file to another branch. I've got better things to do than to worry about your puny security system getting our intel sniped by a 12 year old hacker."
Posted: Sat Jan 13, 2018 2:46 am
You don't want to walk in my shoes.
The deafening silence in the library of the DWMA was broken only for a moment by the sound of a door being opened and, shortly after, closed. Whomever found themselves curious enough to peek at the source of the brief noise would see a man in clothing that appeared to have been worn for days at a time and hair that had faded to a dull silver that was in stark contrast to the dark, unkempt beard that had taken up residence on his face. Although most of the students would be unaware of who this man was, the veterans and older students of the academy would recognize the face of Nakura Genryusai, better known as the Raven.
It had been several months since anyone had seen or heard of the meister. There had been whispers among the older students of the events that had caused his sudden hiatus, and the most well known rumor was that he and his wife had moved to a far away place with their child in order to avoid danger, and that Nakura had gone with them, only returning to the city rarely in order to fill out reports for Lord Death. However, only the staff of the academy and a small handfull of students knew the real reason. Ora had passed away, as did their son, Ganymede. The loss had struck a massive blow to the man, and the internal struggle with grief had been a losing battle.
Fast forward to the current moment, the rather peculiar incident where the hollow shell that had been a once great meister had wandered into the library of the academy. There were heavy dark circles under his eyes, suggesting a streak of insomnia, and the thick smell of liquor and smoke on his breath. His lips were moving as if he were trying to talk, but no sound was coming out. Nakura's feet carried him from the door over to a section of books that was towards the back of the library. The lack of hesitation hinted that he knew what he was looking for, and where to find it. After a momentary search for the exact book he wanted, his hands hurriedly plucked a small paperback from the shelf, and an equally hurried shuffle of his feet brought him to a chair at a table not too far away.
He tentatively opened the book and began reading, trying to immerse himself in the literature rather than focus on the images his brain was conjuring. Across from him, sat Ora. Beautiful as ever. Her violet eyes full of sorrow as she watched her husband in such obvious pain. "You must sleep," she spoke, the words inaudible to the other patrons of the library. After all, she was just a hallucination. Nakura's reply was nothing more than a glance at the seat her image was perched in. There was a flicker of agony floating in the deep pools of delirium before he continued reading. The book he chose? Alice in Wonderland, the original. Ora's favorite.
↳Location ::♦:: DWMA LibraryxxxMood ::♦:: DepressedxxxCompany ::♦:: ...xxxStatus ::♦:: Intoxicated>>>>>>> Out Of Control ::♦:: ...
The Demon Caligrapher
Greedy Genius
Offline
Cotton Shorts Kid
High-functioning Gekko
Offline
Posted: Sat Jan 13, 2018 1:31 pm
Hideaki Katsuro:
The Prodigy
▣ ▹ ▸ ▹ ▸ ▹ ▻ ▻ ► ► ◄ ◄ ◅ ◅ ◂ ◃ ◂ ◃ ◂ ▣
After his little pass by the other ships--so curious a metaphor that it perhaps was the most fitting thing he'd heard in his stay here thus far, the way it clung to intentionally unrelated thoughts like bumps on infected leaves or a virus--Katsuro found the night was his search for a steady, clutter-free mind: easier to stare at the ceiling than to chase away tension consciously. Katsuro had a ball; perhaps to help distract himself, he counted in wholly inaccurate seconds how long each toss hung in the air. Every three or four or five tosses, the ball would lose its perfect arc and roll like a higher jumper's hip to some angle he could not predict; he only stopped thinking of what it could mean to be ships in the night, to never see these people again and supposedly be alright with it.
He'd argued against such pessimism, out of instinct perhaps, but it didn't occur to him until sometime around the third time streetlight near his window blinked out of duty. He began to flipped the scene over a few times in mind and found it was a puzzle piece that fit any conversation, any situation, and only served to obscure the final image. From him it might have sounded pedantic, but he really did come to believe what he was saying, that the ships would more often than not pass each other again. The odds were there, the life of accomplishment, striving, and finally accolades was there. At some point he clenched his fist, capturing, destroying, eclipsing the dated bulb with its porcelain corona in the center of the ceiling, and then he forced himself to sleep.
In the hazy blue and flickering filigree that was the inside of his eyelids, waiting for his body to comply, the mind was entertained enough to travel to the corners of his room. It seemed to be a tour to all manner of places, caches of secrets and destinations taboo, to look at the notes piled as to suggest they were used often under a small table holding a rare-looking, sprawling plant, the shelves lined with all sorts of trinkets and medallions and old books that looked like they were made to fit the scene of some fantasy movie rather than actually written: not enough. He would have to work harder. His book demanded it. The library... Tomorrow...
Tomorrow rolled over him like a new tide. His eyes fled, but he stayed put after his initial roll away from the sun cutting through the gap in his blinds all too conveniently to attack his sight. Impulses were his movement for nearly a half hour after, the way one is dumped into cold water and strokes with the intensity of an animal stricken thoughtless by adrenaline to wrestle to the top of the swell, breathing only then, coming to realise what was happening with that breath; he found himself away that today was a day that required his consciousness only after brushing his teeth, finally seeing that his skin, the bulb above his mirror, the flickering whiteness of his teeth, were of the same intensity of his alarm-clock sun.
Perhaps it was so because he had planned out so much of it. First he was going to class--not entering, of course--find his professor in the doorway, explain that he was already familiar with the material for the day, ask but inform them that he was headed to the library to work on personal matters, attain permission and praise, and perhaps make it to Deathbucks for lunch.
He had been there for some time, getting immersed in a few philosophy volumes the way he used to at his old school, totally forgetting his need-want for caffeine. He didn't notice someone else had entered and joined him and the other three students in that place glowing gold and sepia with dust in beams of light, just as he hadn't noticed, book in hand, that he had began to wander to other sections, such as the fiction...
He stopped with a short stamp of his left foot, making the only scuff of noise the place had known since the famed meister had opened the door, noticing that he was on a collision course with another's bubble. His mouth opened, something incomprehensible and hardly more than a whisper eluded the teeth and escaped, and he almost followed up with a proper apology, but found he could only stare dumbly at the man seated there with a book... And another?
"Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, ‘and what is the use of a book,’ thought Alice ‘without pictures or conversation?’
So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.
There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, ‘Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!’ (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket, and looked at it--"
Nakura's eyes widened as he heard the scuff of a shoe on the ground near him. He turned, slowly, to gaze at the boy, head bobbing slightly. Clearly the gray headed man was drowsy, but the intoxication was only making keeping his head straight harder. His eyelids drooped into a blink, then reopened slightly to show irritation. Lips parting to speak were met with a pause and a finger held to ask for a moment. Carefully, as if it were too fragile to be handled, Nakura closed the book and slowly placed it on the table, straightening it almost obsessively until it was at the same angle as the table itself. Another moment of staring at the book, one more adjustment, and his eyes finally returned to the boy with the same irritated expression.
"Can I help you with something?"
↳Location ::♦:: DWMA LibraryxxxMood ::♦:: DepressedxxxCompany ::♦:: HideakixxxStatus ::♦:: Intoxicated>>>>>>> Out Of Control ::♦:: ...
Cotton Shorts Kid
The Demon Caligrapher
Greedy Genius
Offline
Cotton Shorts Kid
High-functioning Gekko
Offline
Posted: Sat Jan 13, 2018 6:03 pm
Hideaki Katsuro:
The Prodigy
▣ ▹ ▸ ▹ ▸ ▹ ▻ ▻ ► ► ◄ ◄ ◅ ◅ ◂ ◃ ◂ ◃ ◂ ▣
Was this guy serious? Katsuro was some infinitesimal distance--index and thumb--away from simply walking off and continuing his day. Truthfully, the only thing that kept him waiting there, watching as he adjusted with curious--and he would be sure annoying in larger doses--precision the book, was the way he seemed to belong to his own world just as much as this physical one. He tossed up a hand, as if to say you can't be serious! and shifted his weight to stick himself to the shelf to his right.
"Oh, I'm fine," said Katsuro, somewhat bemused. It was at this moment he got a look at the other's eyes, and in that instant his face changed to reflect a level of concern he thought was only for the battlefield. "Is there something I can help you with?"
