Ffordd i'r ogledd (The Road North)CLOSED Scottish Chronicles

[Mikoto]

The meeting hadn't been long ago. Several days in fact but they were already on the road. Hours behind them lay Stratford. Not too far to turn around and head for the safety but with each ticking away of the miles the chances to turn around this day dwindled. This was what she and many other had signed up for. To expand what their people knew about these lands. To see the island they now called home and to get a feel for what dangers existed to their Northern borders. And while she and others with similar minds felt it'd be more prudent to see what lay to their west, closer by all standards, and likely less dangerous. That didn't matter right now. 

Stretching one leg at a time she tries to fight off the stiffness that came from driving her cart long distances. She was for all intents and purposes the trucker of this expedition. She had the big horse and the cart and because of these two factors plus and her own volunteering of them, alright it was likely that it was just because she had volunteered them, she was hauling a large portion of what they were bringing with them. Apparently someone thought it'd be a good idea to haul a lot of crap with them on the off chance they came about a settlement. Not that it was a bad idea it was just likely to be more trouble than it was worth. In her mind she could imagine a large portion of their wares returning with them. 

Groaning a bit in her seat she wished the mountings for the cart would allow her to ride on Bedwyr's back. Despite how much some people complained about being on horse back she enjoyed it. In front of her rode or walked the rest of the party. Mostly support classed mages. A few enchanters. A smattering of summoners. A swashbuckler or two. A warden or three and last but certainly not least the other tank of the group a monk. The monk was a dwarf named Tobin. She'd dedicated his mind to memory as he was the leader of sorts. The warden and one of the swashbucklers could also be called leaders but the swashbuckler had effectively established himself with the title of "fool" in mind. The warden came off as cold and reliable though his cold demeanor was what kept her away from him. As it had most of the group to this point. 

Being at the very back of the column gave her very few people to talk to. She'd made it clear that anyone wanting to ride the cart had best either be dying, sleeping, or paying a haulage fee. The isolation from her adventurer teammates was welcome on her part. Being isolated meant she didn't have to hear the honeyed polite words pour from her lips. Those sickeningly sweet tones that caused her very bowels to churn in displeasure. She hated those tones and words so much so she sought to speak them as little as possible. Her plan for this trip at each camp night was to park the cart, take the bay stallion she'd dubbed Bedwyr for a brief trot to let him stretch his muscles and relax a bit, feed and water him somewhere on the trot or after returning to camp, give him a quick rub down, feed and water herself and then curl up next to her brute and sleep with her weapon close at hand her buckler on her arm. She doubted they'd find physical hard shelter before they decided to make camp today. And if they did she'd insist they move the goods off the cart and into hard cover along with moving Bedwyr into hard cover as well. The cart was expendable. Losing it would cost them a days travel time but with several smiths and others in tow to help rebuilding would go faster and the quality would likely be better. 

She'd thought about the mornings as well, she had had nothing better to do as she watched the road move off in front of them and the miles dwindled off. Yawning a bit she stretches her neck as bedwyr nodded his head slightly. He was bored with this as well and he didn't have the knowledge that this boredom would drag on for many many hours. In the morning, getting back to her train of thought, she'd get up early, hopefully before the others, take stock of the cart to make sure nothing had gone missing, take Bedwyr for a quick trot, feed and water him again, then come back and feed and water herself while the others woke up, then while they ate she'd get Bedwyr re-attached to the cart, then as everyone else got themselves about she'd take the tipe to practice long ago learned fencing forms and quick thrust slash combinations and then hopefully everyone else would be geared up and ready to go again. 

Hopefully.

((WC: 835))

[Celebrimbor]

It had not been long since the meeting... A few days little more than that as the group at large scurried about after to acquire the weapons and armor that would be needed. The swashbuckling Smith had taken the time to make a new set of gear for vanity's sake more likely than not. Yet there he was following along with the wagon... not on the wagon though he was moving along besides it. With each step he took he was often reminded of quotes from books that he had long since read... One in particular seemed to crop into his head though and he could hardly help but speak it as he danced about along the path.

“Its a dangerous business, going out your door... You step into the Road and if you don't keep your feet there is no telling where you might be swept off to.”

It was a true enough sentiment of course... though he honestly had no idea where they were actually going beyond the vague northern heading they were following. So it seemed to him to suit the moment. Though it was entirely possible... though not likely that he was bothered by the lack of speaking going on... though he was still not so sure about the woman driving the cart... though he also wasn't really sure of her name either... it was possible he had not been paying any attention at the meeting. Regardless of knowing who she was or really anything about her he found himself at the tail of their little group mostly by choice... That and the simple fact that he didn't feel right being at the front... their were fewer people in the back after all.

Word Count:289

[Franny Stein]

The march overall had been proceeding like a funeral procession, which was eerie enough, if not for the fact that in spite of the simile it really was much quieter. Franny knew funeral processions, she conducted them like parades down the streets of the adventurer dominated cities and dungeons; chattering minions in tow.

“Quieter than the dead…” Franny thought with a macabre grin before casting a shaded eye behind her. Franny had decided not to ride in the wagon. “The wagon is, after all, the biggest target.” Organizing the formation in her mind like a game of battle ship, she placed the little ship that was herself close enough that she liked the odds of a safety in numbers approach and far enough away to avoid the overblown but relevant concept of splash damage that Franny always found adventurers prattling on and on about. She was utilizing her ‘silent move’ skill so it was more or less certain that she would trail somewhere closer to the back of the column formation with her slower movement speed; slightly at a forward and adrift angle, like the needle on a cactus.

“I’m in idiot for not making myself taller…” the tiny necromancer muttered… “Oh! A half world at half size is a full world~! Tch.” Clicking her tongue Franny pressed on. She wasn’t opposed to walking, she was simply bored. The thought possessed her to simply have skeletons carry her like she usually did but she quickly dismissed the idea in light of present company. “The needle’s only hidden when it’s in the hay stack.”  It was best not to stand out and make herself a target.

With a sigh, Franny shortened the distance between her strides slowing down her march. She stretched her back as she walked, allowing her mood to sour further in indulgence. Scanning the perimeter she saw nothing of interest. Otherworldly bird watching briefly struck Franny as something interesting to pass the time. Squinting at the above branches, she quickly discovered them empty. "Ugh..." Stinging her eyes with a cool spear of breeze, light shorn through a passing fluff of a cloud. Franny gripped her hood to keep it from flapping about. The wind could be oppressive when it wasn’t blocked by the canopy of trees. Franny readjusted her hood bringing it further over her head.

“It’s a dangerous business, going out your door... You step into the Road and if you don't keep your feet there is no telling where you might be swept off to.”

Franny’s ears perked up as her eyes swept panoramic to follow the sound. Poetry like an oasis on a dull gray canvas. "Swept indeed..."

“Finally someone with some taste, eh?” Franny called over her shoulder to the rather dour looking girl driving the cart. “Funny picture, a haut monde princess driving her own cart.” Franny held her left arm at a Z, palm toward the sky, in an over exaggerated shrug. Pausing for a moment she decided to test the waters with a subtle jab.

“What should I call you miss knight of the cart?”

Franny slowed allowing the cart catch up to her relaxing pace. A nice shield against the gales.

Turning with an impish grin, Franny glanced over her shoulder at Mikoto.

NOTES- Franny is toward the back left as a drifting wing to the overall formation.


WORDS- 512


TAGS-  Mikoto Celebrimbor

[Mikoto]

“Finally someone with some taste, eh?”  A voice floated to her ears shattering her melancholic forward gaze. Casting her eyes in the direction of the voice she watches the speakers mouth form the words and voice propel them to her ears. “What should I call you miss knight of the cart?”


'Knight of the cart?' her mind flashed the statement unsure of what she was referring to. Then it came to her though she was quick to stifle the aha moment before it could come to her face. What the female referred to was the first tale involving Sir Lancelot of Arthurian Legend. In the tale Lancelot rides his first horse to death and manages to convince another knight to loan him a horse which he promptly rode to death as well. The knight he borrowed the horse from catches up but cannot loan him another horse as he's on his last mount as well. So, Lancelot is forced to ride in a cart being pulled by horse driven by a dwarf. This is humiliating for Lancelot obviously but eventually he finds Gwynevere and obviously a love affair begins. In this case, and this was but a wager, it was being thrown out as a jab. Possibly to get a rise out of her. Sadly this Ms. Stein would not receive a display of anger from her. She would gain words from her. Words that would turn her very stomach and make her pray for the sick to fade away. But she, this Franny Stein as her display told her, would have words.

"I'm called Mikoto," she said clearly as Bedwyr snorted again and tossed his head about, "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance Ms. Stein." Ugh, the sick feeling rushed in quick with that short statement. It was almost cruel how violently ill her body made her feel when she spoke in these honeyed tones. Damn conversation. Damn Franny for forcing this exchange. She'd have to endure.

((WC- 329))
((Total WC- 1164))

[Franny Stein]

“Somehow I doubt that,” Franny laughed jovially, “but this isn’t so bad an excuse to listen to the sound of my own voice.”

Franny cast an eye sweeping the tree lines before settling on the various backs of the heads of her more forward companion. She sighed in mock boredom.

“Ms. Stein is awfully stiff though, don’t ya think? Or should I be calling you Mistress Mikoto Magnificant?”

Placing her hands behind her head in a relaxed pose she cast an aside glance at the chevalier.

“Just Franny will do, nice horse by the way.”

Her eyes wandered away once more.

“What do you do Miktoto?”

Franny mused the blonde girl’s face with a lackadaisical mind. It was curious to her how it moved with nary a ripple, like a lake that was only frozen just on the surface.

“Walk on it, and you just might fall in…”

Franny dropped her hood letting her hair flutter about.

“But it’s an adult’s prerogative to do, even when you don’t want to.”


wc 170

[Celebrimbor]

Really Celebrimbor felt no need to join in the conversation that was happening beside himself as he moved along casually besides the cart it was not as if they had said anything to him after all and so what point would their be in speaking when the conversation was not between himself and the ladies. He did what he could as he moved to listen to anything that might pose even a momentary threat to themselves or the cart though in the long run he heard and saw nothing that was not to say that nothing was there just that he did not notice such things.

That did not mean he was not listening only that he was not about to interject his thought in the midst of the minced words offered between the pair. It felt to himself that to interject could be worth his ability to reason and that was plenty enough to stay clear of any further words that might have slipped from his lips to dance upon listening ears. It hardly mattered though, he was not there for idle gossip or chatter nor did he know how to approach such a task anyway...

197 words

[Deleted]

The entire expedition had no convenient method of travel, and were thus forced to walk the path. Dumah had been silent thus far, as he was a bit exhausted from a sleepless night. There were a couple instances where the Swashbuckler had nearly fallen unconscious in his walk, but with the help of his friend Klide, he had stayed awake and gained a sudden second wind as he drank some water, wiping the water off his lips with his fist. He walked near the front of the group so he could easily defend the rest of the expedition from any creatures or enemies should the need occur. He held his sheathed sword by the top of the scabbard in a way similar to how one would hold an un-drawn katana. Using the skills he had learned as a Courtesan, Dumah did his best to put forth a facade so as to prevent himself from seeming weak. After obtaining his second wind, Dumah walked with a straight posture, his right arm hanging straight down by his side as his left hand firmly held the scabbard of his sword. Even as he was refilled with energy, he remained silent. Dumah realized that he may come off as a strict, unapproachable person, and so he spoke up. "I have heard this road can be dangerous at times. Miss Stein, perhaps your undead minions can move faster than we can? It may be a wise idea to have them scout ahead for any signs of danger." At the current pace the party was walking at, it would not be too unreasonable for almost anything to move faster than them. It was, after all, merely a walking pace.

- 283 Words -
- Total: 283 -

[Mikoto]

She'd hoped that Franny would simply stop talking to her after getting her name. That wasn't the case as the summoner had decided to continue talking. Her displeasure twisted in her belly in the form of nausea. If the conversation didn't end soon she'd likely be heaving over the side of the cart. Thankfully, one of the front walking persons of the group stepped in to suggest Franny send some of her undead minions to scout ahead. Inwardly Mikoto sighed thanking the glorious suggestion leveled by the raven haired swashbuckler. The chanting of the summon would take a few seconds and would shift the attention of the female summoner away from her for a brief time.

That time would be spent breathing carefully trying to steady her stomach and get away from the feeling of sick. Looking away as Bedwyr snorted his displeasure at the speed at which they were traveling. She could feel his displeasure. She hated this slow speed travel as well. But if they went at their normal pace they'd leave the rest of the group behind. Which wouldn't do but would serve to keep her from having to do much talking with anyone but at the same time would mean they'd be in greater danger. Though perhaps that danger would be worth it if it meant she wouldn't be feeling this sick feeling anymore. Something to think about she supposed. 

Internally she began forming her response to the question of what she did. She was a student specifically but that would lead to the question of what she studied which would need answering so if she could cut down her response to a simple quick answer that'd be best.

((WC- 283))
((Total WC- 1447))

[Franny Stein]

Franny hoped she had elicited even the slightest of positive changes within the group. That had been her goal after all; if the party was uncomfortable with one another, the odds of horrible death were quite terrific. Franny considered how it would only take a moment for their bravado to be shattered with the cruel reality of a lack of organization and unfamiliarity with the concept of teamwork. “Hanging separately…” Franny mused. She would rather not have her neck stretched… and on that thought the tiny necromancer turned toward the newest face in the conversation.

“Possible, but is that so wise my good lord manners?” Franny laughed coyly. “Mein got, does everyone in this party have a salad fork, steak knife, postured ruler, and three separate pieces of fine china shoved up their…..”

“It was my understanding dear friend that this was a mission of a diplomatic nature. In light of that, while I applaud your tactical inclination toward the protecting of our valuable necks from the unknown, I cannot in good conscience paint a scene out of the last pages of The Holy Bible. Do you really want us to look like some hellish circus of death galumphing down the countryside?” Franny laughed. “I’d rather not have myself mistaken for a Babylon and open their imaginations to all wonderful little ways they might purify my soul through the high art of torture.”

Tilting her head at an angle, Franny playfully put her index finger to her chin in a cute pose of fake contemplation while turning like a sprinkler between Mikoto, Celebrimbor, and Dumah.

“Would they stone me, burn me, or hang me first, I wonder?”

NOTES- Hahaha, sorry, the sass is strong in this one.

WORDS- 277


TAGS-  Mikoto Celebrimbor @dumah

[Capsule]

[attr="class","capsol"]

Capsule was slumped over on the back of her large and sturdily built Crystal Reindeer, Kasper. Even with a saddle, it was not a very comfortable ride. That had less to do with the fact that the reindeer was naturally chilly, and more that she was still growing accustomed to riding around in such a fashion. The closest she had come to riding a horse was a brief pony ride as a child… during which she freaked out and threw up all over herself and the pony. The reindeer was preferable to her previous steed, which was not a steed but a Golem Sentinel. Sitting on a giant, walking rock all day was a surefire away to expediate saddle soreness. Her dog, Bosco, had it easier, even if it did mean that he was forced to walk the entire way. At least he could feel his own ass.

Perhaps sensing that the woman was close to giving up and falling off, the reindeer slowed until it was standing still. Capsule, who was already leaning heavily to the side, blinked in surprise and almost let go of the reindeer. She lowered one shaky leg to the ground, and did not release the crystalline beast until both of her feet were solidly placed on the ground. Once near the front of the succession, she found herself lagging near the rear, which Mikoto was situated at. And apparently being pestered by the little Summoner?

With the reindeer to one side and her staff employed as a makeshift walking stick, Capsule was less likely to topple over from nearly numb legs. She was weary but also bored, and the little motor mouth was the only one providing some form of entertainment. And, actual kid or no, spooking them was another form of amusement. When Franny went on about Babylon, Capsule donned her Sabbatic Goat mask, and casted Gehenna Swarm, summoning up three orbs of pure dark matter. Might as well look the part, no?

While Franny was busy thinking out loud, Capsule was using Kasper as cover to sneak up on the girl. She leaned over the girl from behind, long white hair spilling over and blocking out some of the light. The dark magic orbs rotated around her head, periodically darkening her vision. Her staff rested against her shoulder as she reached around to poke the girl's cheeks with her pointer fingers. "Naw, I'm sure they would only sew your mouth shut." Or toss her back, like a fish.

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∝: 416
♫: Gods and Monsters
✏: Capsule best Goat-kun
@: Mikoto, Franny Stein, Celebrimbor, & @dumah

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[Franny Stein]

"Naw, I'm sure they would only sew your mouth shut."

"Oh? Would they truly be so kind as to be so very mercifully lenient~?"

Franny chuckled as she turned to bring in this newer take to the fold. That action was of course at the start smooth before gradually growing more rigid and from there being subjected to a kind of petrifying in place as though she were shot with a mad scientist's freeze ray. If she were not alreadly so pale now as to be nearly an albino, Franny surely would have been so upon the sight of this masked thing only inches from her own nose. Jumping back with an expletive and all the resources of a startled cat, the tiny necromancer's hair now away from the cover of the cart flew in every which direction on the relentless breeze while conjuring to mind the arched and hissing back of an ill-tempered feline.

Her expressive face twisted in seconds like a flushed toilet from shock, to horror, to surprise, to confusion, to a suspicious squinting regard as her eyes panned downward to the wobbly still asleep legs of her tormentor which brought an entirely new ridiculous element to the totality of the sudden fiasco. Mimicking the devil before her's legs, Franny's entire body shook with an involuntary snort that gave way to a full-bodied rip-roaring laughter.

"Christ Jesus!" Franny managed between gasping breaths as she struggled to master herself. She was wiping tears of what must have been crusty dried up good humor from her eyes. "Case in point, case in point, my somber friends!" Franny continued with pointing laughter. The tiny necromancer's hair continued to flap around like a bed of agitated snakes, but they danced, charmed, to the musical voice of her good mood.

"Though in this case I fear my tormentor might need the aide of a nurse to further bring us to her grasp what with the lameness of her countenance of which I know not to attribute to age'd arthritis or the good graces of yonder stony moose!" 

Franny was still speaking in a slightly mocking elevated diction, but she was growing less aware of the habit. A bad effect, perhaps, of her compatriots' own formalities in the creation of something akin to a 'Jane Austin Effect'.

NOTES- I'm not sure if I should be responding so often, but everyone seems to be addressing me so it feels weird leaving these things hanging.
[  Though this post is probably the most fun one I've written in awhile. XD  ]

WORDS- 374


TAGS- Mikoto Celebrimbor @dumah Capsule

[Mikoto]

'Good... they can entertain each other in conversation for awhile,' she thought as she covered her mouth to stifle a slight burp that would pas for a yawn as she faked a blinking of eyes that came with most blinks. Her stomach was slowly coming back to its normal temperament which allowed her a slightly less grueling ride. The young boy who marched beside her cart was keeping quiet avoiding conversation and simply keeping his feet moving. Something the two girls that were now conversing managed to do and carry a conversation. Perhaps it was true what many women had claimed for years. Perhaps, women were better at multi-tasking then men. She wasn't about to open up that discussion as Bedwyr in his equine mannerism emptied his bowels in the space between her feet and his back side.

This wasn't anything that would bother her. Horses were not picky about where they emptied their intestines content upon the ground. Being animals they had that right to go and defficate freely upon the ground wherever the urge or need arose. Human decency, shame and modesty prevented her or anyone who could claim to be a human being from doing the same. Bouncing over a short patch of rough road made her groan slightly from the impact. Someone in this group had to be a tailor. Perhaps investing some money into the creation of a cushion for this solid wooden board she'd made implemented as a seat would be worth the effort? Reaching behind the seat she pulls a rolled up horse blanket she'd bought prior to this adventure out from under the treated canvas tarps she had for covering the load. Placing it on the seat and adjusting it as best she could she settles herself back on the seat. While it wasn't exactly comfortable it lessened the punishment her posterior and lumbar were receiving some.

With that taken care of she returned her eyes to the marching band in front of her and the conversation that was unfolding between the ladies to her right. While she'd have preferred they march in total silence so all senses were trained outwards lest they be ambushed she wasn't about to take attention upon herself from the chattery young summoner.

((WC- 377))
((Total WC- 1824)

[Deleted]

As the party walked, Dumah noticed Mikoto groaning in discomfort and pain as she sat on a hard, and clearly uncomfortable, wooden seat of the cart. Noticing her discomfort, Dumah reached into his bag to retrieve an item. He stopped walking as well, this way when he had retrieved the item from his inventory, the cart upon which Mikoto was seated would have caught up to him. After a couple of moments, Dumah retrieved a thick, dark purple blanket, its color matching that of the emblem on the back of Dumah's coat. As the cart was now at him, he walked beside it and handed the sheet to Mikoto, neatly folded up. "Here, if you are uncomfortable, you may sit on this. I have no need for it right now, and I understand how uncomfortable it must be to sit up there with no cushion." In the time it had taken for the cart to catch up to Dumah, Mikoto had pulled out a cloth of her own to use as a makeshift seat cushion. However, as his attention had been not on the cart and its rider, but his own bag, Dumah had not noticed this. "Please, I insist."

- 200 Words -
- Total: 483 -

[Capsule]

[attr="class","capsol"]

Behind the mask, Capsule tilted her head at the little girl. She had gotten the desired reaction, though only momentarily. Franny transitioned from bristling cat to tiny jester rather quickly. She kind of needed her staff for support, otherwise she may have considered booping the girl on the head with it. Instead, Capsule liberated her head of the heavy and warmth inducing mask, relocating it until it was resting at a jaunty angle on the side of her head. "I suppose I could use a new pair of legs. Yours are far too short, though." No one would take her seriously if she ran around on stubby little baby legs.

As far as she could tell, no one else was expressing interest in the incident… or paying Franny much mind. Had they gotten used to it already, or was Capsule just sensitive to it? It was not often that she got involved in big groups like this. "Na ja… Are you sure you aren't a Heretic?" She gestured at her forehead. "Häää?" It was the universal sign for "are you crazy?" Though, given how prickly some people got around Heretics, eccentricity would be preferred.

"And Kasper is not a moose. He is a reindeer." She was waggling a finger in the air, and it was too late to stop. "There is a distinct difference. Rangifer tarandus are only half the size of an Alces alces. And reindeer are cute." She could have rambled on all day, had she had the stamina for it.

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∝: 253
♫: Girls are Made of Frosting Cake
✏: ---
@: Mikoto, Franny Stein, Celebrimbor, & @dumah

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[Franny Stein]

“Probably good enough I take it… even the wall flowers are pairing off into their little dance partners, mama’s done her job; well, that just leaves me with….

"I suppose I could use a new pair of legs. Yours are far too short, though."

“Codename…. Oddball…”

"Na ja… Are you sure you aren't a Heretic?"

Franny tilted her head. She vaguely remembered hearing of such a character class, she had made a note to remember that whatever they were, they were a bigger pain in the ass to the general population than her tag along horror show.

“Nope, just your average everyday neighborhood necromancer. Heretic? Never heard of it. They sound like a pain though.”

Franny grinned mischievously with a twinkle in her eye.

“Did you mistake me for one of your own or something~?”

But maybe this one hadn’t heard or had decided to let it slide because now they were on about mooses. “Wait, scratch that, Reindeer.” The tiny necromancer mentally corrected. She nodded along on cue with three fourth’s interest, it was new to her and Franny didn’t get to where she was in life by eschewing learning. She was all patience as she glanced around at the rest of her little retinue.

“Might make an interesting anecdote someday.”

Assuming Oddball had finished, Franny added to the conversation while not so subtly turning the topic:

“Speaking of reindeer, doesn’t it feel like everyone out here’s vying for the red nose? Pretty reclusive pack of little explorers if you ask me.”

Franny shrugged, she was more or less speaking so everyone could hear. If she were willing to pat herself on the back she’d have happily given herself credit for eliciting some positive social change in the group dynamic. Realistically though, she figured she'd probably done little more than ruffle some feathers.

“Not the first time I’ve had to play the nuisance, it’ll be what it’ll be.”

At the very least, Franny wasn't bored.

NOTES-

WORDS- 301


TAGS- Mikoto Celebrimbor @dumah Capsule Pen Ddraig Myrddin

[Capsule]

[attr="class","capsol"]

"Hm…" Capsule eyed the girl with doubt. If she were lying, her character info would reflect that. Sure enough, she was labelled as a Summoner, and too low leveled to be up to any mischief… unless there was some sort of Scribe magic involved, masking her true class. Okay, maybe that was a bit farfetched. Franny was more likely a hazard to herself than anyone else. "Huh? Me?" Capsule almost tripped over her own feet at being associated with Heretics.

"Of course not! I'm an Enchanter." Granted, her earlier display could mistake her for a Heretic. Her class was privy to a few skills based around the dark magics, but not enough to really specialize in. "Good for crowd control and keeping allies fierce. Not… really great at combat." Quite a few of her skills were also great for trolling the snot out of friend and foe alike. Ethereal Port and Inversion were good examples of that. The latter just so happened to be her first skill. "I could show you, if you would like~." Capsule made a gun with her hand, forefinger aimed at Franny's forehead.

She lowered her imaginary gun once the topic changed, however. There would be time for demonstrations later. "We-ll, it is -- or was --a video game. They do tend to draw in the loners…" Her voice trailed off as she turned her gaze elsewhere. She was definitely no exception to the rule. Who the hell played multiplayer games to interact with real people, anyway? "Some just don’t want to stick out, either." When you stuck out, it just gave people more of a reason to endlessly harass you.

"And what about you? Do you have any skeletons in your closet?" She pointed her finger at Franny's nose this time. It was looking pretty red to Cap.

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∝: 303
♫: Surfing On A Rocket
✏: Just keeping the ball rolling
@: Mikoto, Franny Stein, Celebrimbor, & @dumah

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[Franny Stein]

Franny held her hands in a mock pose of good humored surrender as Oddy leveled the faux finger pistol on her face; she was grinning like a shark.

“Just try it Joker and I’ll have you reminded that Death always has the last laugh…”

When the topic changed, Franny stretched, listening.

The girl nodded along to Oddy’s explanation of one of the game’s demographics. It was ironic to her, but then again, her own original motives probably couldn’t have been considered all that normal either. “All good points worthy of consideration on this long walk,” Franny mused before muttering “The Hedgehog’s Dilemma…Isn’t it?”

"And what about you? Do you have any skeletons in your closet?"

“Eh?”

Franny was taken aback by the turned interrogation. She recovered with a laugh.

“Oh dear, perish the thought! My, I’d make a museum of my skeletons if only to dispel the notion!”

“In more way than one…” She muttered as an aside. With a pause, she recovered the thread breaking her own momentary silence.

“Ne…Ne…” Franny continued parroting the girl’s earlier sound incorrectly, a third in an attempted mocking jest, and twice that in the pleasure the musicality of it brought her,

“I’m a pretty open book, if only a bit censored, ya know, for the younger eyes and minds.”

Franny laughed.

“Just remember, some of us had more to lose in this world transaction than others.”

That point, Franny realized, was more or less too true to herself in retrospect. She had been in a rut, yes, but she had also been established through years of gruelingly thankless hard work. In a lot of respects, that had all vanished in a pool of smoke… “And for what, the –golden- opportunity to play coroner puppeteer without any of the conveniences of the modern world?” That last line had a quieter, more melancholic, tone of whimsy as it drifted out with a sigh; she wasn’t even entirely sure if she had meant to say it out loud.

NOTES- nada


WORDS- 319


TAGS-  @dumah Mikoto  Celebrimbor  Capsule

[Deleted]

Dumah's attention shifted from the Guardian atop the carriage to the hyper Summoner as he heard her laugh. "Just remember, some of us had more to lose in this world transaction than others." This was the last thing Dumah wanted to hear. Dumah wanted to try to get away from any thoughts of the old world, but this one remark brought on a torrent of memories in the Swashbuckler. He gulped a bit, and he noticeably clenched both the blanket in his right hand and the scabbard in his left much tighter as he was reminded of memories he did not want to remember. No, they were memories he had to remember, ones he could never allow himself to forget. He tried to stifle back tears as he was reminded of the loving wife and sweet daughter he left behind in the old world. It took quite an effort, but he kept back all but a single tear, which he hoped his companions would not question. He did not feel in the mood to seem emotionally weak to his fellow expedition members, nor did he want to explain his past life to them. After a moment, he simply placed the blanket down beside Mikoto, continuing on, walking ahead, his pace seeming slower than it had been before. The memories had clearly gotten to him, and he tried his best to forget about it.

He focused on keeping an eye out on the path ahead, making an active attempt to distract himself. Large trees. Crumbled ruins. More trees. The path seemed quite boring, and the party passed by a river. Dumah speed walked ahead of the expedition, stopping at the river and washing his face in the running water. As the water cleared from his face and he opened his eyes, in the water he saw his reflection, but at the same time: not. This was not the reflection of Dumah Iino, Adventurer of Londinium; but it was that of Nordin Reecendo, Playwright of London, husband, father. Dumah was shocked by the sight, and he visibly jumped in reaction, quickly splashing the water. Several strong ripples shook the water as Dumah hit the reflection of his past self, and the image blurred away. He breathed heavily to calm himself, and rubbed his eyes. His sleep deprivation was catching up to him, and he needed rest. He sat down by the water as he waited for the expedition to catch up to him, but this would only allow him two minutes at most.

- 421 Words -
- Total: 904 -

[Capsule]

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'The Hedgehog’s Dilemma…' Due to researching her own mentality online, Capsule was familiar with the concept. Cold hedgehogs could not huddle up with each for warmth, lest they run the risk of injuring each other. So the best they could do was remain at a safe distance from each other. It was a metaphor for social isolation and introversion, and a term she understood well before discovering there was a name for it. Being trapped within this world had opened her up a little, but she was still afraid of getting too close to other people to truly put herself out there. It was too much of a hassle, really. People could still let you down, even those that once contained artificial emotions and intelligence.

Somewhat somberly, Capsule stared down at the childlike figure laughing at her side. How lonely it must be, stuck in such a childish body. However young Franny appeared, she had the vocabulary and mannerisms of someone much older. She probably had an actual life back home, too… Capsule paused, leaning her head down to rest against her staff. "I had nothing to lose, and everything to gain." She had family that would notice she was missing, but the only one that mattered to her was her mother. It was a small price to pay for happiness. "I prefer this to living aimlessly day to day…" Waiting for what? Death? A rare moment of excitement? Someone to show her the meaning of life? Reality was a miserable and lonely existence she did not wish to return to.

Capsule bit down on her thumb, hard enough to pinch her flesh, but not hard enough to break the skin and snap herself out of her introspection. No way was she going back to that life. They may not be many, but she actually had some good friends in this world, and not just acquaintances she played with online. Not to mention that she actually had some importance and power here. Going back would be horribly jarring.

Things had gotten quiet fast, with the most talkative in the group falling into quiet contemplation. Dumah looked worse for wear, however. The man was taking controlled steps towards the front of the procession, and averting his gaze from the rest of the group. Capsule supposed he was shaken up as well, but was not interested in finding out. She was in the mood to lean against something or just sit in the middle of the road until her legs were properly functioning. Walking suddenly seemed like way too much effort.

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∝: 429
♫: Young & Beautiful
✏: ---
@: Franny Stein, Mikoto & @dumah

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[Mikoto]

Taking note as Dumah, one of the parties swashbucklers, handed her a blanket and hurriedly walked off Mikoto took stock momentarily of the two chatty Cathy's to her right. Franny was fine physically, no telling if she was mentally, so there was no need for concern about her ability to walk the remainder of the day. Capsule, she had been limping a bit since she'd dismounted from her crystal reindeer. And while it wasn't in her nature for Mikoto to take concern over the health and well being of her party mates, she was a tank and that wasn't her job per-say, she did have concern over their capacity to advance as far as possible per day as weather, road condition, and enemy concentrations allowed. And with the way Capsule was moving and had been continuing to move since climbing down from her walking lawn ornament it was in all likelihood that they would need to slow pace or stop earlier than what was ideal for them to make accommodation for the obviously saddle sore female enchanter.

It was Capsule own fault for riding the crystalline stag for as long as she had without so much as a blanket. And perhaps Mikoto took silent hidden mirth from the misfortune of a inexperienced rider. It was a safe wager that Capsule would before the next time she mounted that four legged cinder block invest in either a proper saddle or a well made blanket. Hopefully the girl would also learn that you, when you were rather inexperienced, stayed in the saddle as little as you had to. This was due to the sheer strain and pressure it put on the lower back. Mikoto was used to those sore spots and pains after years of the equestrian sports so riding Bedwyr all day was nothing for her. As soon as she had a moment to halt the cart long enough to aid the ailing Enchanter onto the bench she'd be riding on Bedwyr's broad back.

Placing a foot on each tongue she lifts herself from her seat to toss the horse blanket over Bedwyr's broad back and adjust it to roughly where she wanted it before scooting up one tongue and making final adjustments. She could have used Dumah's graciously loaned blanket for this task but her upbringing and just decency prevented her from doing such a thing. Slipping back to the bench with the skill only afforded to her from knowing how the cart was made and trusting Bedwyr to not get rowdy at that particular moment she spreads the blanket Dumah had more or less forced upon her. Taking a perch upon the blanket she takes stock of Dumah as they closed in.

He wasn't looking so good. Nausea? Possibly overheating in the sun and the exertion of marching in midday heat? Didn't matter. Yet another person in their group who for one reason or another would be better served embarked on the cart for the day. Turning to an eye to Capsule for only a moment, "Ms. Capsule, if it would be easier on you you may ride on the bench of the cart. I'd hate to see you injure yourself by forcing yourself to walk the rest of the day after riding your deer all morning." She didn't wait for an answer as she halted the cart in line with where Dumah was kneeling next to the stream. "Sir Dumah, if you are unwell perhaps would do you some good to ride the cart for a while? Please take a seat on the bench with Capsule. I'll ride upon my horses back. It would do me some good and allow me to console him while allowing you to rest a bit." Stepping to the tongue nearest to Capsule she grips the wooden frame of the cart and extends a hand down to the injured woman. Dumah wasn't so bad off that she needed to aid him onto the cart if he chose to ride. Capsule however seemed to struggling to keep pace walking so lifting her legs and mustering the strength to get onto the tongue was going to herculean for her without assistance. Smiling softly she smoothers away any trace of displeasure those to phrases may have brought to her belly. Bedwyr stomped his foot and snorted in annoyance as the rest of the party continued to trudge ahead. "Hush Bedwyr. We'll catch them," she cooed to her horse who simply snorted again in response before nipping off some roadside grass. He was really not liking the slow pace they were forced to take at the back of the column. Poor big bay colored baby.

((Thread end. 1 more out of all of you. Last one on the cart feel free to make Mikoto get the cart moving again. And Capsule feel free to use Mikoto to help you into the seat.))

((WC: 778))
((Total WC: 2602))