Roleplay

[center][size=4][font=constantia]Welcome, to A Moment in Time! In this roleplay, time periods and culture mix to form specific geographical areas called "Domains." Every Domain has a corresponding number that disregards the official name when discussing on Interdomainial terms. For example, [i]Domain 53[/i] (or [i]D53[/i]), where 1800s Industrial England is located, would address the Northern European "Viking" area as [i]Domain 5[/i] (or [i]D5[/i]). Below is a map with the different Domains and a key with the commensurate place/time, or "Moment." MAP (please open image in new tab, then open link in new tab, for larger size and much better detail):[/font][/size] [img]http://i.imgur.com/PDPR10D.png[/img] [size=4][font=constantia]KEY (more numbers, Domains, and Moments to be added later, on the map as well): Domain 1 - Domain 3 - Domain 5 - Northern European "Vikings" Domain 7 - The Dark Ages Domain 8 - Early/Colonial Indonesia Domain 12 - Domain 15 - Domain 17 - Domain 20 - Domain 21 - Aztec Empire Domain 29 - "NO MAN'S LAND" Domain 31 - Domain 36 - Domain 43 - Middle Ages Iraq Domain 44 - Domain 45 - 1800s Industrial England Domain 53 - Domain 60 - Early America* Domain 62 - Greek Hellenistic Period Domain 68 - Kingdom of Zimbabwe** Domain 70 - Domain 74 - Imperial Iran Domain 88 - Oriental Dynasties/Samurai and Feudalism* Domain 90 - Domain 94 - The size of a Domain does not correlate to how long the period was or if the Domain tended to conquer other land/be conquered, though this system could potentially be implemented (I could just switch number spots around and do some research, if this is something people would want). Also, if the Domain comprises of a Moment where something like fish is heavily relied upon, they will be by the ocean or have many lakes/rivers (etc. examples with other resource/cultural attributes). *Moments like Early America and the Oriental Dynasties actually have their own "Provinces" for their many periods/categories of time. For example, Provinces for Colonial America, Reconstruction Period America, etc. will be included in the single [i]Domain 20[/i]. **"Kingdom" as in the time period, not an actual kingdom.[/font][/size] ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [size=4][font=constantia]Our current roleplay participants and their characters are below. For any OOC ("Out Of Character") chat, or if you would like to review the rules or the plot we have discussed, please refer to this roleplay's [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/rp/2129727]OOC page[/url]. @Zenikay : [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/rp/2129727/5#post_25943798]Camilla Mitchell[/url], [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/rp/2129727/10#post_26228305]Afzal Amari[/url] @Casiope : [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/rp/2129727/2#post_25899112]Helena[/url], [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/rp/2129727/7#post_25985993]Antreas[/url] @ToTheArk : [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/rp/2129727/2#post_25899594]Kaia Blackthorne[/url] @nettledbird : [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/rp/2129727/3#post_25909868]Gwendolyn O'Carroll[/url] Gone but may return??? -> [s]@Xumbre : @DustyStarr : [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/rp/2129727/4#post_25917103]Yuuki Gozen[/url] @Goatsrsnazzy : [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/rp/2129727/5#post_25946631]Luka[/url][/s] ?Possibly? @BoomBreeze : [/font][/size] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [size=4][font=constantia]PLOT:[/font][/size] [size=4][font=courier new][TRANSMISSION: INCOMING] [TRANSMISSION: RECEIVED] ATTENTION. ATTENCIÓN. ACHTUNG. ... WE ARE DOMAIN 8. SOMOS DOMINIO 8. ... THIS IS A BROADCAST TO ALL DOMAINS, DECLARING OUR ALLEGIANCE TO DOMAIN 12. WE FIND LEGION IN SEEKING OUT EASTERN ACQUISITION, AND INVITE DOMAINS 70, 44, AND 3 TO OUR CAUSE. [url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bhinneka_Tunggal_Ika]BHINNEKA TUNGGAL IKA[/url]. UNITY IN DIVERSITY. [TRANSMISSION: PENDING] [TRANSMISSION: INCOMING] [TRANSMISSION: RECEIVED] ATTENTION. ATTENCIÓN. ACHTUNG. ... WE ARE DOMAIN 74. SOMOS DOMINIO 74. ... THIS IS A BROADCAST TO ALL DOMAINS, AS WE OFFICIALLY DECLARE WAR UPON DOMAIN 60. CIVILIAN AND MERCANTILE GALLEYS SHOULD AVOID OUR WARRING WATERS, AND STEER CLEAR OF THE SOUTHERN CHANNEL. SHIPS CROSSING THESE WATERS WHILE BELONGING TO DOMAINS ALLIED WITH DOMAIN 60 SHOULD EXPECT ATTACK. [url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imperial_Standards_of_Iran]MARA DAD FARMUD-O KHOD DAVAR AST[/url]. JUSTICE HE BIDS ME DO, AS HE WILL JUDGE ME. [TRANSMISSION: INCOMING] [TRANSMISSION: RECEIVED] ATTENTION. ATTENCIÓN. ACHTUNG. ... WE ARE DOMAIN 91. SOMOS DOMINIO 91. ... THIS IS A BROADCAST TO ALL DOMAINS, DECLARING... [TRANSMISSION: INCOMING] [TRANSMISSION: RECEIVED] ATTENTION. ATTENCIÓN. ACHTUNG. ... WE ARE DOMAIN 68. SOMOS DOMINIO 68. ... THIS IS A BROADCAST TO ALL DOMAINS, DECLARING... [TRANSMISSION: INCOMING] [TRANSMISSION: RECEIVED] ATTENTION. ATTENCIÓN. ACHTUNG. ... WE ARE DOMAIN 15. SOMOS DOMINIO 15. ... THIS IS A BROADCAST TO ALL DOMAINS, AS WE... [TRANSMISSION: 6 PENDING] [/font][/size] [size=4][font=constantia]For the overall messages above, just in case you didn't get it, those were messages your Domain (whatever that may be) received regarding the alliances being formed in pursuit of acquiring some or all of [i]Domain 29[/i] (or "No Man's Land"). This race for land, much like our world history's "Scramble for Africa," will eventually be dubbed (TBD*). (See "SYSTEMS: Broadcasts" below for further broadcast/messaging clarification.) Domains are out for themselves. Selfish, some may admit. Conserving culture is key, though at times culture conflicts. Conflicts with commerce, religion, politics, and many other facets of everything civilized life consists of. This leads to bouts of war and peace between the Domains; some simply want to defend themselves, from those that fiercely deny that culture's ways or whose greedy malevolence leads them to seek more and more territory. Others are on the offense, perhaps a trade deal went up in flames and sparked a new kindling of controversy, with battle an ultimate result. But normally, regularly, [i]usually[/i], most stays calm. Until now. All it took was one allegiance for all the others to begin. "Fast as lagging fowls before the northern blast," more and more appeared one by one until it became by the couples or the triples at a time. With one team comes an opposing team, however. Allies share enemies, so the more of one the more of another. "No Man's Land" is what all of these allies and enemies pursue; a common goal. But why is everyone so interested in it [i]now[/i] of all times? It has been there and abandoned that way for as long as anyone can remember, though an immeasurable amount of time considering the different Moments and how their time passes, or doesn't. Will you bring your Domain to success? Or will you lay with the rest who were cast down in their efforts? Will you find loyalty within your allies? Or will those you thought as your enemies become [i]better[/i] assets? Let's find out. [/font][/size] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ [size=4][font=constantia]SYSTEMS [b]Marks (Tattoos):[/b] At age ten, everyone of every Domain will receive a tattoo, or "mark," on the back of their neck of their corresponding Domain "sigil." Examples include a Norse [url=https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/5a/a5/47/5aa547db44cc4b534ddeaaa4048d2a1d.jpg]dragon design[/url] for the Vikings, a [url=https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/49/e4/20/49e420a2e78f71c63eb8d48f758a0346.jpg]sword and shield design[/url] (though not colored) for the people of the Dark Ages, etc. Removal, attempted removal, adjustment, attempted adjustment, or any failed or successful attempts to cover up a sigil with another mark will result in immediate apprehension and a sentence to death. [b]Domain 1:[/b] A "Domainless" island dubbed Domain 1 holds many facilities for interdomainial interaction, including where the tattoos are to be obtained. Domain 1 has no permanent residents and is largely used as a commercial port, along with other things. People don't tend to stay for longer than a week, for mingling with other cultures can be found difficult. [b]Broadcasts:[/b] Because there is no organization such as the United Nations, all Domains communicate worldwide messages via broadcasts. This is so if war between Domains is declared, other Domains will know to be wary of that war zone. If allegiance between Domains is declared, other Domains will know if that changes who they have as enemies or allies. Though occasionally, for strategic purposes, a war declaration or peace treaty will not be openly broadcast until it becomes well known by other means, such as rumor. However, if [i]Domain 5[/i], let's say, wanted to war with [i]Domain 18[/i], it is guaranteed that a message of declaration would at least be sent to [i]Domain 18[/i]. If a declaration such as that is ever made [i]globally[/i] right from the [i]start[/i] of the war, this usually is in desperation. That Domain may be hoping that another Domain will hear their plea and assist, though this comes with the risks of another Domain viewing [i]Domain 5[/i] (the one in desperation) as weak or vulnerable, and then seeking to take advantage of them within the war. While I understand that not every Moment would in-reality have access to something that could receive broadcast messages, such as with the ancient Aztecs, I'm thinking stations near those affected Domains may exist, possibly on some borders, where another Domain [i]with[/i] access relays the message over to them. If the Domains dislike each other, however, perhaps one may decide not to inform the other.[/font][/size] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ [size=4][font=constantia]POSTING ORDER For now, it will go something like this: @Zenikay @Casiope @ToTheArk @nettledbird Now please give a notice before hand if you are going on hiatus, and for how long if you know! If no notice is given, you may be skipped! And even though a Posting Order is still given, I ask that you still subscribe to the thread. ^^ This way you can at least tell that the roleplay is moving on, and know when it's your turn once you're pinged in a post. :) Thank you![/font][/size][/center]

(Heeeeere we go! :D Sorry this took such a while to start up, not only did I not think so many would be interested but over time I just became more and more busy... and forgetful! Hope this is an alright starting post, let me know if any of you need help with understanding the plot ^^ These are mainly just introductory posts though, so don't sweat it too much~)


Afzal

"Aintibaha.
Nahn huna 74.
Hadha hu albathth al'iidhaei lijamie almajalati, kama nuelin rasmiaan alharb ealaa almajal 60. Yjb 'an talja alqawafil almadaniat walmutanaqqilat 'iilaa tajannub miahina alttahdhiriati, watawjih alqiadat fi alqnat aljanubiati. Wayajib 'ann tatawaqqae alssufun alty tueabbir hadhih almiah alty tantami 'iilaa nitaqat mae almajal 60 'ann tatasadda laha.
Mara dad farmud-o khawd dafar 'asta. Aleadl yarfae li, kama 'annah sawf alqadi."

Rolling back up the parchment, Afzal tossed it in with the rest, placing his head in his hands. This can't be right, he continued thinking in disbelief. All this for some land? What there could be so important? Pushing himself up from the ground, he stood and took in the mess around him. If only Nudara was here, to help me manage this clutter. Pulling back a rich red curtain, a mid-eastern sun bore through the paneless window to reveal the dust floating through the still, hot air. The light also revealed everything else around him: His falcons in their mew, some picking happily at a hare while some others simply sat and existed majestically, scattered and used tupperware he had been too lazy to take and get cleaned, a tapestry from his father, ripped and ridden with bird droppings ...and a crisp papyrus pile of stolen transmissions.

"Am I doing the right thing, Muna?" Afzal asked the loyal falcon on his shoulder, approaching the documents. "Sometimes I think I'm just too curious for my own good, but I'm still trying to piece everything together." She didn't answer, and only burrowed her head in his turban to rid herself of an itch. "I mean, what in the No Man's Land could be worth so much bloodshed? War is no thing to be taken lightly, I am actually worried for Iran. At least they're a letter off, though," he joked with a smile, gently petting under her head with an index finger before sitting back down meditatively and gathering a select few of the messages. "I can't really tell Nudara about the news, since she left town for that pilgrimage of hers to Karbala, but I really should tell the Merchant King." With the newest ones bundled in his arms, he stuffed them messily into a canvas bag before throwing its strap over his shoulder and standing up again, starting up the ladder.

Reaching the roof, he shielded his eyes for a moment to adjust to the lighting. I wonder how bright the sun shines in the cold of Domain 5. Perhaps it is just as hot and blinding, he wondered, as he lifted Muna onto a hand calloused from claws and began to tie one letter to her foot with a worn blue ribbon. With that done, he pointed West with the same hand used for the knot before swiftly moving the arm holding her upwards, to throw her into the air and fly towards her objective.

Sure, it was risky business. Any suspicious archers adept in their craft could surely shoot the poor thing down, but the chances of that happening were quite slim in this town. It wasn't like messenger birds were uncommon, being that most everyone here was either lazy or really enjoyed utilizing falcons like Afzal, but it wasn't like there were any extraordinary archers around here either. All of those were either guarding the border or fighting some fight, maybe some of the better ones liberating some settlement. The guards patrolling the streets really weren't as strong or intimidating as they should be either, though admittedly some were. One before had actually caught onto what he was doing, and needless to say, that ordeal was a whole lot messier then his room right now. And that may be an understatement.

But that was in the past. Done and dealt with. Afzal had faith in Muna, his favorite falcon. Anyone who says a parent doesn't have their favorite child is a liar. The falcon was just so much better than the rest, a real nickel in a penny fountain. She had the patience, determination, and majesty of no other, truly making her a formidable foe and a valuable asset. At times she lacked in compassion, this was known, for really, what bird would be able to demonstrate that? Birds can't lick with their tongue, as a dog might, or snuggle and hug you with their wings. I heard not even lovebirds are capable, he joked to himself. For Afzal, her solitude would be her only flaw if she had one, as at times not even his falcons could satiate a loneliness within him.

But for what, or whom, do I yearn for? he asked himself, heading back to the ladder and descending again. Is it really a dog I want? Or am I just missing my friends? Kalim, Nudara, Fadel? I will be seeing Kalim very soon, but the other two not soon enough. He went for the door, unlatching the lock before stepping outside. There would be no wary looks to the left and right today, he was safe enough. Afzal began for Kalim's abode, to deliver the most recent tidings brought in.

Through broad streets, slanted alleys, and both empty and bustling pavilions, he weaved through it all before arriving at his destination. He rapped thrice upon the teak door of artisan engravings, followed by another two knocks with the appropriate spacing. Kalim must have been just walking down the hallway, for he answered the door rapidly. *"Al'afdla! 'Annah li'amr jayid jiddaan 'an 'arak ya sadyqy. Min fadlik, alrraja' 'iidkhal." Accepting the request, Afzal gave a nod of gratitude before stepping inside onto an ornate purple carpet.

This arrangement of Kalim's was no humble affair, but instead, tallow candles of various design blessed the air with rich and almost overpowering fragrance, and professional works of art hung upon the walls within gilded frames. Kalim would well fit into the category of "friends with benefits," someone very much needed as far as Afzal's current "hobbies" demanded. Kalim was one of those who had assisted him in the guard fiasco, and one of the only ones ever trusted with Afzal's real past. A privileged man, yet one who honored his word.

**"Almashrubata? 'Annaha mtbl, al'algham alkhassat alharafiat," Kalim inquired, a server coming up almost out of nowhere holding a platter with two goblets and a shining pitcher. ***"Jit la lilshsharab alkhass bik," Afzal replied, waving the dish away for the server to go and offer Kalim his glass instead. (And now I'll just have it be English since I bet it's getting annoying to look below for the translations xD Just assume they are speaking Arabic~)

"Really now," Kalim obliged teasingly, taking them up some stairs and onto a patio before lying amongst some cushions and gesturing to those pillows before him for Afzal to sit. "Then you must tell me why, yes? I assume it involves that bag at your side." "That it does," he responded, removing it from his shoulder before gathering up the papers and putting them at Kalim's feet. "You may keep those, I already copied the information beforehand. Grim news concerning Domains 74 and 60, I tell you." At that, Kalim's jovial features neutralized somewhat, before he began scrounging through the documents to find the one Afzal had been referring to. "War!?" he sputtered, mid-sip of wine. "Strange times indeed, Afzal. It was good of you to inform me. Are these other messages of import as well?" he asked, shuffling through them curiously. "Some, though not as much. I think your business would mainly involve that one, particularly." "Hmm, yes, I as well. Again, many thanks," Kalim said, looking back up at him with smiling eyes.

"I shall have my server see you out," he then said, gesturing to the same one before now standing in the doorway. "He's my newest, so you may not recognize him. Say, doesn't he look a bit like you? Not that you're slave material, or anything," he concluded, chuckling. While it wasn't a particularly funny jape to Afzal, being that he wouldn't be able to know both the feelings of slavery and/or mastery, he simply played along by smiling courteously, accepting the server's guidance with a nod before providing one final interlude. "If you don't mind my counsel, Kalim," Afzal interjected, "I think it best to move your Eastern caravan North. To evade any brigades passing through." Kalim's face seemed to consider the proposal, before slowly dissolving into a nod as well. "That is good counsel, I shall think hard upon my caravan's routes. Do return soon should more news arrive, friend." "Of course."

Once back outside, Afzal wondered if Muna might be back to the roof's mew by now. The prospect excited him, he was hoping to go hunt with her and some of the other falcons that evening. With determination, the Iraqi man began back for home, this time sparing small talk with local village girls along the way.

(*translates to "Afzal! It is very good to see you, my friend. Please, please enter."
**translates to "Beverage? It's spiced, mine own craft."
***translates to "I come not for your drink.")

(And I know I only did Afzal this time but I think I'll do both characters in one post later because I sort of have an encounter planned for Camilla, since she is in the same Domain as one of your guys' characters :3 Just need to see their intro first to size it up, is all~
Alsooooo I didn't realize until afterwards that I wrote so much, oopsies xD Really am sorry about having to read all of that mess ^^' Please don't feel pressured about writing just as much as me!)

Next is: @Casiope

Antreas

He was walking down to the arena when a soldier ran up to him to inform that he is wanted at the war council. He was a general after all. With his helmet in his hand he decided to make haste to the meeting.

Large stone pillars loomed over the entrance to the hall where all of Greece's, their whole domain's decisions were thought of, then voted upon by the people. He liked that. As he entered a few soldiers hailed him and he in turn did the same. Inside the building across the hallway and to the left stood a heavy marble door to make sure that any meeting that occured within could not be spied upon. Inside this room was a huge oval table with chairs all around it, a window really high up and a few statues in the corners.

Antreas closed the door behind him seeing that only one seat was left unoccupied, his. A suspicious silence filled the room as only he made noise by walking across the tile floor his boots thumping rythmically along his path to his seat. "Fellows your faces say too much. What is the grave news?" He asks still standing up. One of the council members sighs and reads the broadcast that was sent out by Domain 74 declaring war on Domain 60. "Antreas, you have more experience at conflict like this than us. What do you suggest we do?"

"We should train and ready forces. If things get out of hand I do not want to be caught off guard. Let's stay neutral for as long as possible. However I feel that sooner or later we'll have to get involved. That is how war works. What are the reasons, do we know?" He inquires but everyone at the table is looking around at each other questioningly.

Then a female voice speaks up. "Should we send some spies?" The voice is soft and sweet like honey and in Antreas' opinion it belongs to a woman who can really sting. "Helena." He addresses her his voice showing the slightest hint of a growl.

Helena

She walks in with one of her most richly dyed togas on. The sky blue with the shoulder straps pulled in a little to reveal her shoulders. She is one of the only women in a place of power in Athens; the whole domain in fact. Helena brushes back a white and curly lock of hair from her face and approaches the table. "Would it not be beneficial to learn what they are squabbling over?" She suggests and earns a look of disdain from the general. "Antreas my friend what do you think" she taunts. He has tried to put her in her place several times but it never worked.

Antreas smiles wickedly at her and answers "I think this is no place for a woman." She smiled "then let us leave together" this drew a few laughs from the rest of the council. "Now we have much to discuss do we not?" Helena said and walked over to Antreas' seat and sat down in it. He was standing anyway and seemed too tense to be able to bend his legs.

(Ah sorry for any typos or if it seems incoherent.! I am trying my best on mobile. :D)

Next up: @ToTheArk

Wars, wars, wars. Kaia wondered to herself if the domains would ever grow tired of constant conflict, not that it truly mattered in the end. Mercenaries always seemed to be in high demand, and she always needed the money anyway. Though Kaia never accepted any job that would put her right in the middle of a conflict.

Leaving the comfort of her hidden home just past the woodland border, the cities and towns nearby always held opportunities for jobs, and jobs always meant money. Perhaps she could finally get her hands on a profesionally made bow instead, not that her handmade one was useless. She just prefered the ones with intricate designs more.

(Sorry for the short lenght ^^; It'll get longer as the story progress, I promise)

Next: @nettledbird

(Aaaaand we're back! So excited for this again! :D Honestly I haven't been roleplaying in basically a few months, so please excuse any rusty lines I have xp And sorry about the wait for this post too, this summer I'm getting to live with my older brothers that are usually in college, so I like spending time with them a lot. Hopefully I won't be gone too often, but maybeee be prepared for some gaps of a couple days sometimes. Again, really sorry about the inconvenience! Hope we all can still have fun with this! ^^)

Camilla

"Look at that lil nimpkins ove' there," Carlisle speaks up, pointing across the street and down a ways to where a young child, their gender indeterminable from this distance, seems to be about running errands in the rain. "I say they'd be an easy get," with "get" being their gang's term for victim, essentially. "Cam, you like the rain. Why don't you go an' get 'em? Get the get, heh."

"You know I bloody-well hate it when ya call me Cam," she returns annoyedly, peering out at the child through the wet air while trying to keep down whatever temper she has.

"Yeah, and you know that I know that it's 'bloody-well' time-takin' to say yer full name," Carlisle spits back.

"How hard be it to just say 'Camilla' then?"

"I ain't sayin' it's hard! I'm sayin' it's-"

"Leave her be, Carlisle" interjects Everett, beginning to remove himself from the wall he's been leaning against all the while. 

"...You know Camill' gets all gutted when it comes to the children." 
He smirks to her at that, confirming that yes, Camilla, I made it seem like I was defending you at first when really I was just going to turn it around on you right again.

"Phht, who says?" Camilla snaps, looking up for once from where's she's been slouched over, crouching in the alley way. "I'm just a bit knackered from yeste'day, is all, so bugger off afte' the nimpkins if ya want. I can choose not to join in on any kind o' get I like."

Everett offers a skeptical look, shaking his head before continuing. "Whatever it is, it's clear neither of you two are up for the rob. Guess that leaves it to me, then." He tilts his hat in a gesture of farewell before exiting into the rain, leaving also before anyone could object or change their point on the argument, his dark figure disappearing into the brightly-contrasting mist.


"Great, you scared 'im off ya soft lout!" Carlisle teases, with a hint of genuine irritation and a light push.

"Oh you can sod off too if ya want! Yer a cat ya know? Can't handle the rain, blimey... 
Not like you gots any morals, so ya coulda' gone off with 'im. This ain't all on me."

"What're you sayin', you an out-an'-out Christian?"

"Who says that's what I says!?"

"'Who says, who says,'" he mocks, "well everythin'-bloody-about ya says! Don't think for a second that boss back at HQ ain't seein' what yer doin' with them novices."

"Well I ain't seein' you do anythin' with 'em, care to explain that?" Camilla asks, a single eyebrow raised as the tides of the argument shift to her side.

"Hey now, why I gotta spend all me time babysittin' anyways?" He shifts uncomfortably, possibly from the weight of her eyes on him, saying maybe I should tell boss about you, too? "Those guttersnipes can get on well enough without the likes o' me."

"..And you're probably right about that," she admits with a giggle, "but that don't mean you got no obl'gations with 'em."

She takes a glance up at him, during the pause in their conversation.

Carlisle's hair is dirty blonde, and cleanly cut from the bit of cash he spent to get it done all nice and good. His face might be considered handsome, but the burn scar taking up almost a quarter of it tends to distract from all else at times. As per usual he's slouching, and his attire is unkempt and stained in some places.

Feeling Camilla’s eyes fixed upon him, he looks down at her and smiles. “What, ya wish yer scars were as neat as mine?”

She shrugs, pulling up her sleeve to show a messily jagged scar running down part of her forearm. “Hmm, I dunno. Mine can be messy, yea, but never nearly as messy as the way you dress yerself.” Camilla snickers, flicking at his pant leg right next to a large hole he hadn't gotten fixed.

“Aye, stop yer snappin’ at me. I might be a cat, but yer a turtle ya know.” She rolls her eyes.
"I just forgot to get that 'ole stitched when I last saw Abby.”

“Yeah, yer a crippled ol’ cat with dementia. You don't feel no breeze goin’ through it or nothin’? Were all o’ your nerves fried when you got that burn o’ yours?”

“Hey shut yer trap already, dunce. I'm gettin’ a headache from all yer yappin'.” Carlisle holds the bridge of his nose and puts his head down and forward, clearly done bickering for the day. Camilla feels that she had finally offended him with that last bit.


She had been there when he got the scar, the burn. Got his head put to a fire during a big get gone-wrong. Now he has a nasty fear of flames, never even nearing close to fire pits to get warm on windy nights. Maybe that's why he can act so cold at times, Camilla wonders. Not enough heat in those hands o’ his.

Gang work was hard work, she recounted. The fights, the heists, the backstabbing literally and metaphorically, sometimes Camilla just wished for some simple life on the country, with some kindly farmers to foster her in.
But things can't be that way, and they never will. This was the role I was given, a criminal, and that will probably always be my part to play. ..yet, in the end, the people of both roles are still worker bees, toiling away for people superior to them, with their only expectations being dissatisfaction.
She sighs.
That's profound and confusing. Ugh.


After Everett had returned successfully, the three headed back to their headquarters in the slums, dodging most of the rain by sticking close to buildings and their outstretched roofs.


One of the newer novices, a 10 year old boy named Cornelius, begins standing from where he'd been sitting on a crate outside the main building to approach Camilla as she comes towards him.

“You ready, son?” she asks the child, roughing up his hair and smiling maternally. The other two had split off a moment before, so she could act as caring as she wanted without their negative judgement and disposition towards her behavior.

“I th-think so, mizz ‘Amilla,” he says quietly, looking up at her with kind eyes. “Though I'm a tad nervous, really.”

This boy isn't fit for this kind o’ life, she thinks to herself sadly. And what we’re putting ‘im up to just ain't fair to me, but I guess this is th’ way o’ it.

“You'll do swell at it, boy. Come along now, we don't wanna be late. We most def’nitely do not.” With that, the two linked hands and headed back out of the slums together.


About a half-hour later, they arrived at the docks. Five or so ships were moored in the bay, one in specific reading Champion on its side. “Well lookie there, ain't that a pretty ship you getta be on!” Camilla encourages, patting him on the back and pointing up to the hulking galley with her other hand.

The boy gulps, then nods. “Yes, it's r-real’ impressive,” he puts in shyly.

Seeing the sign-in booth, she pulls him to the side for a moment of conversation before his departure. Crouching down to his level, looking around to make sure no one unwanted is listening in, Camilla asks if he's ready in a more serious and hushed tone.

“Y-yes,” he sputters quietly, “Madeline told me what to do just before we left, she did. Where all the good an’ important stuff should be, and a lot o’ the guard schedules. W-well, reminded, ya know. We went over it m-more beforehand, I promise!” Madeline, Camilla remembered, was an older 10 year old novice, having just been on the ship this past year for her own marking.

“Good chap,” she says smiling, beginning to rise back up to full height when Cornelius tugs at her lightly. “U-uhm, mizz ’Amilla…” She crouches back down obligingly, curious. “Yes, boy?”
“..D-do the marks hurt all that much? I m-mean, I know that-”
“Oh, you've got nothin’ to fear about that, dear,” she replies gently, tucking a wisp of hair behind his ear before standing back up.
“It just tickles a bit, is all.”

They head over to the booth hand in hand, and Cornelius checks himself in to the list. She puts one arm around the child in a small embrace before he waves goodbye and heads up the ramp, disappearing somewhat into the lingering morning fog. I might've given ‘im a bigger hug, if I didn't fear for his loss o’ life er limb during this ‘ole endeavor. I don't wanna hurt so much when I hear o’ what's become o’ him, so I tried not to get all that attached.

She had been against this all from the beginning. The boss wanted to test his worth by putting the new recruit up to a larger task than most, the boy demonstrating too much incompetence for boss to continue to tolerate. Essentially he had decided that if the boy returned successfully, he'd be worth their time. It wasn't like they could just let him out the gang, after all. He knew too much.

A slip up seems inevitable, currently. If he's caught stealing any of that equipment from their destination of Domain 1 or the ship itself, which is highly likely with his lack of training thus far, the punishment will relate back to wherever Domain he had originally come from. Essentially, the laws of old London would be going against him, and the laws of old London aren't known to be forgiving, even for children. Especially, for children.

Camilla worries for him despite herself. She even waits an hour to watch all the other children board the Champion, and soon after pull out from the docks.

Walking back to HQ through a light drizzle, Camilla slides by a distracted vendor on another side of the docks to tax him a couple of crab legs, quickly skipping on away and rounding a corner into an alley before the seller notices her theft. Breaking the crab legs down across her knees, she slurps out their contents as she exits the alley through the other direction to continue her return.

(Wow, sorry for writing too much again! I guess I felt I needed to write a lot to make up for both the lack of writing on this thread and the lack of writing I've just been doing in general lately xp
Please let me know if you just want a quick synopsis of what my post was about, I'd hate to burden anyone with all of this reading and understand both time constraints and merely how maybe this kind of reading isn't enjoyable to everyone ^^’)


Next is: @Casiope

Helena

The meeting was way too long for Helena's liking. Men could go on about the topic of war for centuries. She tried to protest her own opinion but when the council started a full on debate not even a woman's voice could calm the dragon. To her amusement Antreas stayed fairly silent as well, listening to the words that were shouted.

"MADNESS! I say its madness!" "What do you know? Sitting at home is what you know!" "We need to listen to the people" "oh Zeus give us strenght" "Its Athena who needs to give us wisdom you marble-brain!"

When the night semed too datk to continue this on Helena stood from the General's chair. This somehow seemed enough to quieten the crowd. She wished she did it earlier. "Well-" she cleared her throat "Gentlemen. General. If I may suggest one thing before I excuse myself for the evening. There will be a ship leaving soon for Domain 1. We could send a few pairs of eyes and ears to see what the other domains are doing, what they are thinking of doing, and more importantly gather information so we can see which side we agree with when the time comes to choose."

There was a stunned silence. "The woman speaks the truth. I say we send someone or multiple someones to investigate." It was Homer who spoke up first and soon everyone was parroting his opinion. Men. So predictable... she thought. Even Antreas was nodding his head in agreement before speaking up.

Antreas

"I'll see about the matter of who to send. Now Gentlemen and Gentlewoman it is late. Let us get home to our families, they'll be wondering where we got to."

He turned to Helena and offered a hand. "May I escort you home?" Helena gave him a cold look and reluctantly accepted the offer. As powerful as she could be with words a woman still should not walk alone in the midst of Athens at night.

The air was cool and clear for a summer day. If it was warm in the day now in the night it was cold. Thousands of stars could be seen in the sky along with a silver Moon of Selene. They walked in silence. Helena's hand around his arm as he led her through tte streets of their fair Athens. "I'm going to be honest with you Helena" he said voice firm "I believe a woman like you, or any woman for that matter shouldn't concern herself with these matters of war and subterfuge." He paused "You don't belong in the council." He said bluntly.

She smiled "No. Those men do not belong in the council. The meeting today dragged on way too much and you know as well as I do that there are men on that council who do not belong. So before you say something like that to me, be sure to check the togas of your fellow councillors." They were coming up on Helena's residence. A lovely looking villa; gotten from her late husband. Antreas wouldve thought that after the merchant passed Helena would let his business dwindle, but as it turned out the business is flourishing like never before. He's gonna have to be careful with this one.

"May Morpheus guide your dreams." He said to her as she stepped inside. "And yours Antreas. And yours..." She trailed off as she entered her home. Antreas could see a housemaid rush over to her mistress before the door closed. He walked slowly home pondering on the meeting and what he needs to do now.

Next up: @ToTheArk