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[SS] Hazy Silhouette

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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Albrekka Starbright on Sat Jan 28, 2017 4:31 pm

«Surely, someone as well mannered as you would know how to behave properly and pay back a proper price for what they have received?  Now, pour me another cup of that tea. Oh, even better, bring me a pot will you? Oh and make it refined, yes? I am a lady after all.»

Leivinia was certainly pushy.  It made sense, considering her position.

"Sure, we'll call it even, then.  After that, though, I should head back out."

She would look from her cup up to Leivinia for a moment, nodding, going to make more tea.  Something hot would be nice before going back outside.

"I'll see if I can't find my leads tonight.  If not, tomorrow evening.  Have to sleep, after all."  She would watch as the water started to boil.  "With Erin...I'll have to see what she has come up with at that time.  Though she isn't looking into the same thing exactpy, it might help."  She would simply summarize her ideas to Levinia, pulling the kettle off the burner, filling a cup with it as well as placing a tea bag in it, a pot somewhat with it, filling the kettle back up, and continuing this process a little bit, then topping the pot off with cold water, putting the bags into the pot and setting the pot on low heat.

"...well, I suppose that's that, then.  I should get back to work.  Maybe I'll run into Erin somewhere by chance. Was nice speaking with you."  With that, she would make an attempt to take her leave.  Though it wasn't much, she gleamed some things from Leivinia, enough to perhaps prove useful later, if it worked.
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Erin Lightheart on Sun Jan 29, 2017 2:48 am

The young detective tilted her head in response to the girl's apparent muteness. The energetic attempts to communicate with purely body language was somewhat lost on her, having been more accustomed to the written and spoken word than with interacting with others wordlessly. She carefully reached into a pocket to bring out her spare notebook and a pen, which she then proceeded to offer to the girl.

"Perhaps this would be better for you? Even if you can't write words either, you could...draw pictures or something to the best of your abilities to explain what's going on. Also nod once for 'yes', and shake your head for 'no.' I get the feeling you want to be left alone though, so I'll leave soon if that's the case. The only reason I asked about a change of clothes is because, well...you stand out, like, a lot. If those bad people return, they're going to know who you are right away. Just want you to be safe, in the end. Do you have a name?"

She maintained a safe distance and relaxed somewhat around the mute girl, doing her best to non-verbally communicate to her that she meant no harm. If her actions were actually interpreted as such though, had yet to be seen.
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Leivinia Birdway on Fri Feb 03, 2017 7:45 pm

Most certainly, that girl was far more convenient and obeying than the majority of people Leivinia Birdway had dealt with so far. Her request for a newly poured tea was fulfilled immediately. She didn’t watch the process but the sounds alone told her that everything was the way it was supposed to be. Meanwhile she’d once again lay hands on the handheld console she had been toying around with during the day.

Their conversation had come to an end.

She did in fact become aware of it, but considered it fairly unnecessary to comment on it, was it more than appreciated at this point in time. She’d just leave it slide, wait for her tea and try Splashy Ronnie’s franchise’s challenges once again, until she’d grow bored again. For the time being that seemed to be the most entertaining course of action.

However.

«Don’t you get caught up in anything. Peace might have conquered the town, but it isn’t like there is not single soul looking for trouble. I wouldn’t enjoy my position to be revealed by someone spilling the beans after too intense a torture session.»

Not even a glint of human care lingered in her words, even at a parting like this. It just wasn’t in her nature.

Finally beginning to mash a few buttons, she’d wait for the other girl to leave the room.

Only when entirely alone, left in peace and with the cheaply produced video game, she’d reach for the cup and take a sip.

«Not sweet at all. I hope at least your plans are better than your basic conception of a good tea.»

⭐︎☆☆⭐︎

Nodding plenty of times that white girl in all black accepted the offering with heavy immediateness; a smile so thin and delicate, it seemed like precious porcelain decorating her innocent face.

Once the notebook and pen arrived in her hands, however, her hectic act resumed playback and she began scribbling things at the greatest her capabilities could deliver. Both speed and a drive for perfection seemed to fuse with the out of place eagerness she had shown before.

A moment later, though, the pen came to a stop all over again.

She turned around the notebook in her hands, showing off the currently open page.

「Millinda Blackwater」

Only two words written in an archaic manner, crafted from extremely fine tuned calligraphy — which was quite surprising considering the lack of a solid ground.
However that wasn’t all of it.

Another page was flipped and more words in her rather unique and beautiful handwriting would enter the girl’s sight.

「I am truly sorry for declining your offer.
However this dress, the gloves and even these shoes were gift from my beloved.」

Another flip, a new message.

「How did you arrive at that conclusion, I wonder?
You are mistaken!
In fact, there is nothing pressing onto me for now.」

And after that final period, her soft smile would continue to speak of her message.

It was a simple gesture, yet wasn’t that the most straightforward?
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Sir Alexander Beathen on Fri Feb 03, 2017 8:31 pm

"A bad taste in your mouth, huh."

Moore had responded, far more tamely then Alexander had expected. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, maybe a lashing down for him stepping above his station. Either way, it was only the beginning of his superior's response since it was clear he began to think the issue over, and with a sigh, Moore continued with a proper reply.

"The higher-ups can't help us here, I'm afraid."

Alexander's eyes narrowed in response, indicating he wasn't pleased with that reply. The whole reason the police station had become an issue, the whole idea they were being strung along was that of the political consequences of acting against a member of the church. Something which they hadn't fully expected to encounter here in Whitby, but finding out that the Church has a hand in the local events had made the entire thing complicated. Without proper political leverage, the Knights were paralysed and that had resulted in their current predicament.

There was no doubt in Alexander's mind that contacting headquarters was the proper response; the question now was when the right time is? The longer they remain paralysed, the more lives could be lost, but acting without sufficient evidence to give to the headquarters may result in further embarrassment for the entire organisation.

"You're a talented one, Beathen. More talented than me, that's for sure. Your sword arm is more than a little lacking, but you've got a good head on your shoulders, and that's more than I can say. But you still suffer from a fatal lack of experience, it seems." Moore said who finally faced Alexander fully and it caught the young knight off-guard. No matter who was right and wrong, the difference was notable to the Golden-haired knight. It wasn't a physical difference but their mere presence, the difference in experience was clearly seen by those with trained eyes, and maybe Alexander had seen it the most standing below his superior's gaze.

He was trying to guide him, and it was this approach that made Alexander doubt his words. And it wasn't because he might be wrong, just that other than his father no one else often questioned his decisions. In comparison he was sheltered by his family most of the way, well, they had guided him most of the way and now without anyone related to him in sight he was basically on his own. He would be lying to himself that he felt rather isolated now he was out in the real world.

"Cornwall feels so far away." Alexander had thought who attempt to pick himself up from under the gaze of his superior.

"Like you said, they got us. They got us. From a moral standpoint, we owe them a debt, and from a practical standpoint... They have some blackmail which could affect not just us, but the Knights as a whole. Listen, Beathen. Those Church bastards are old hands at this. I laughed earlier, but the fact remains: if we're lions who protect the U.K. with our fangs and claws, then they're spiders who trap its enemies in inescapable webs. And right now, we've been caught in one of them." Moore had continued whose words only seemed to make Alexander feel more at ease.

"If you think it's so easy to escape their web once caught in it, then you'll be in for a rude awakening. If we just go and tattle on them, then the marionette strings will become garottes, just like that." Moore's attempt to symbolise death didn't amuse the young knight who kind of felt disappointed. "And you can be sure that they'll find out. Those guys are old hands at this; they'll have their bases covered. And you can't count on miraculous acts of idiocy to thwart their plans every time." Moore's self-deprecating remark was a trademark of British humour. More often than not such comments was made to spark a laugh from a watching audience but in this case, it just felt sad.

And Alexander who seemed less stoic than previously had reacted with a frown to his superior's words. Something just felt wrong to the young knight, and he wasn't sure what may had disappointed him the most. "Well, that doesn't mean it'll always be like this." Moore gave a half-hearted smile, and it was then which Alexander felt his superior realised the situation more than him. "It's because someone's been stringing us along that we can't do what you suggest, but now that we know we are aware we're puppets, we have more options afforded to us. We can wait for a chance to fight back. I admit it's a rather passive approach, but it's all we can do right now." Moore had finished finally, and Alexander looks down for a moment before acting he was defeated.

It was not because of what Moore had said but more of the acceptance of his failings. He was far more inexperienced than the likes of Sir Moore, and in that attempt, he had rushed towards the likely solution. It would probably be a massacre if the knights acted against the Magicians, they wouldn't stand a chance against a united group of knights.

But it was that reason why they're so restricted.

"You're right, I'm far more inexperienced." Alexander said who looked up with a gentle smile.

"Compared to most of you who have proven themselves as worthy knights, I still have a long way to go. It's why I spoke out that way to find a quick solution. I was.., no... I'm still angry about the actions of the church at this point, and it's not them treating us like fools. It was because they stood in our way and delayed us from acting to help this town." Alexander said whose emotions rumbled to the surface, the expressions on his face changed slightly but remained with certainty as a smile. Only because he was speaking sincerely without any barrier to his words and he was honest with himself. "The people of this town doesn't deserve to live in this way. To live in fear constantly because something out there is killing without remorse and they can't even see a bloody thing through this haze. And for every moment this carries on is a stain on our honour as knights in our failure to bring order and safety to the people who we are bound to protect." Alexander's smile was gone, and it wasn't because he no longer was speaking truthfully but because he was now serious. "And that is why I ask you wholeheartedly to promise us that upon finding hard evidence that the Anglican Church has a hand in what is happening or either continues to interfere with our mission. That you contact headquarters and get their permission to act against the church without worry of political consequences, so they cannot paralyse us any longer from doing what we most to protect the citizens of this town." Alexander spoke clearly remaining stubborn on that single fact.

If they don't get permission, they will continue to be prey to the church and become nothing but a tool to them in their ambitions. Pausing for a moment, the young knight sighed questioning if this conversation would achieve anything, at least it would've broken the ice between him and the rest of the knights.

"What's a spider to a lion? What's a Mice to a man and a tool to its user? They may be good, but they forget we Knights are the real political masters in this realm. We hold the cards that have retained order and balance to the three factions. And if we falter even for a moment the entire system will come crashing down upon us all, and that is why when this all ends. We should remind them where they belong and make them regret risking the lives of the people of this country for their ambitions.  At least that is what I owe to the late Paul Oldturf who only wanted to solve this crisis to save his town and paid for it with blood."

Even if his pride lay broken and him with it, Alexander looked up with confidence, remaining honest to his word. What he faced personally was a mountain with no direction to climb, but he will make the trek regardless as he believed in his ideals. Even if this world makes it feel like a fantasy, as long you remained committed to what you believe it would be fulfilled in the end.

Because it wouldn't be a genuine wish if you didn't have the strength to see it through.

He had hoped he made it clear to Sir Moore what the young knight thought, the words of an inexperienced youth surrounded by those more mature. But either so that his sword arm remained lacking, Alexander's heart was just as big as any other.

His smile returned with a vengeance trying to dispell the nervousness he felt after speaking out further. But he stood up straight and faced Sir Moore directly like he was ready to get back to business. But more so he felt something wrong and thought it was best to move on. But first at least on the way...

"I think we stayed put longer than we can afford. But there is something on the way I wanted to ask." Alexander said trying to move the subject along. But it wasn't to escape comments on what he said, but because he felt this was nipping at his mind ever since he arrived and even before coming to this town.

He had done a lot of homework on the vampires and what they knew about this group. This included the incident in Japan which the Knights had investigated, and he was aware that Sir Moore was one of those knights on that mission.

Personally, he didn't know if Vampires was real, but the reports and what people believe say otherwise. But he wanted to hear it personally from someone and what they saw.

"Say.. Sir Moore." Alexander said who was kind of unsure about asking since this may be a touchy subject. "What happened there? In Japan.. what did you see... I read the reports but.. well I rather hear it from you." Alexander asked whose expression was of someone very curious about what his superior may say.
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Vita Vesta Caesar on Mon Feb 06, 2017 12:09 am

The young knight's manner was agreeable, by and large. He seemed to genuinely worry for the situation, and he managed to speak his mind and thoughts without saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and earning the wrath of his superior. Though that was a far easier task with Moore as Beathen's superior compared to some other stuffier individuals that could be found among the Knights.

However, there was one thing he said that caused Moore's eyes to narrow slightly. What triggered the physical reaction was neither anger nor disappointment, but rather some kind of oddly complicated emotion that vanished as soon as he noticed it. The source of that emotion itself, however, was clear. It lay in the young knight's repeated request.

"Beathen, you seem to be misunderstanding something. While we'll definitely fight back when the opportunity, discovered or created, comes to us, I'm afraid the method you're describing remains impossible."

Moore's speech was quieter now. Before, it had been something on the level of some light guidance, but now it was clear that he intended to give a lesson to the young knight who was labouring under a misunderstanding.

"We cannot and will not request for help from headquarters. Not even should we somehow get leverage on them to counterbalance their blackmail. You said we need to stop the Church from risking the lives of the townsfolk for their ambitions, but what are those ambitions? ...They are the same as ours: to solve the mystery in this town. What will the Church say if the Knights speak out against them?"

'We were simply doing our duty.'

"What will the Church say if we accuse them of blackmailing us into submission?"

'Never once did we give them an order. We gave them information, and they volunteered to help all on their own.'

"What will the Church say if we accuse them of risking an ordinary man's life to capture the magician?"

'He was never in any danger. It is only because of you that he died.'

"You still don't quite seem to understand just what I meant when I said I had been outplayed. When I said I had been outplayed, I mean that I had, thoroughly, had every path of resistance blocked. All of those truths acts as impenetrable shields for the Church. They don't even need to tell a single lie. The one possible hole, that ordinary citizen, has already been filled by yours truly, and they need no blackmail to achieve that."

"Even if we contacted them, there would be nothing they could do. Contrarily, we would just be put in an even worse position. And really, the idea of being able to act against them, of all people, without political consequences is laughable under any circumstance. Beathen, what you're proposing would be like trying to take on a spider in a weaving match. There's no way for us to win."

Moore gave out a short sigh of exasperation and began walking again. As Beathen had said, they had remained too long, so his intent was for them to talk as they walked. Despite his harsher tone compared to before, there wasn't actually any anger in his features. After all, compared to how he used to be, Beathen's inadequacies were practically cute.

"Yeah, enough of that depressing topic. A subject change is good. But... That, huh?"

In response to Beathen's question, Moore's face took on a deep, thoughtful expression that seemed ill-matched to his features. It wasn't the sort of thing that many expected to see on him; those few who witnessed it were frequently surprised that he was even capable of such a thing.  He remained like that for a few short paces before turning back to Beathen again with a slightly mischievious grin.

"Well, let's see. Let's see now. Let's make that a reward. Yes, a reward sounds good. Beathen, if you can manage to impress me, then I'll tell you. You can get the rare experience of a witness' first-hand account."
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Albrekka Starbright on Thu Feb 09, 2017 1:32 am

«Don’t you get caught up in anything. Peace might have conquered the town, but it isn’t like there is not single soul looking for trouble. I wouldn’t enjoy my position to be revealed by someone spilling the beans after too intense a torture session.»

"If that's your way of offering personal concern, I'll take it."  She would smile.  "Take care."  And with that, she would leave Birdway alone, stepping outside of what had inadvertently became her mansion.  Perhaps, suitable for her.

Truth.  Certainly a concept people long for, but for many, it is their protection.  To mask weakness, it is obscured to gain an advantage.  Birdway was no different; in fact, she and the other leaders of the cabals and churches existed for that very nature, especially those within the confines of Necessarius.  It was the natural way of things, for any magician.

"What a fantastical idea..."  It was a little funny to her, and so she laughed a bit at her own joke inside of her head, as it were.  The idea of having to be tortured to tell the truth.

She would look to the sky, or at least attempt to, the haze still obscuring everything, the stars unreadable.  "If this keeps up, I'll have to make up some alternative..."  She would sigh, beginning to walk again down the dark alleyways, back to the inn she had registered to.  It had been a long night, with no leads to speak of.  It was ironic, considering that it was the same night that this supposed vampire would strike.  With things as they were, peaceful was the last thought on Albrekka's mind when it came to this hazy town.
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Sir Alexander Beathen on Fri Feb 10, 2017 10:23 pm

There had always been a variety of methods to deal with a situation. And the one they face in Whitby was no different when it came to the Church. He may be inexperienced compared to the others in his company, but he knew one thing probably more than most, and that was the political game going on. Though Alexander was never one to believe he was the best at anything, the young knight felt like he can always improve and showed that with every action he takes in life.

The very least on missions, he tends to think his actions through, but he's not without fault.

His strength wasn't within his sword arm, but the sharpening with his mind though he never neglects to try and keep up with his peers physically. It's this reason why he believes in the political approach would be more suited to dealing with the Church. Though his fault lies with his lack of wisdom, shown by the words he used to voice this opinion. Alexander admitted being influenced by his anger over the situation and more so afterwards anger with himself about being influenced by it.

Though this doesn't change his opinion that contacting headquarters is a reliable option, but Moore was correct saying the very least this wasn't the right time. But when that time arrives and valid evidence was found to make the incident earlier seem unimportant in comparison, those at headquarters could act, and that's not by sending reinforcements.

But by applying pressure through parliament at Westminster.

It was a device useful to the three factions to keep each other in check and often was a battleground on a daily basis between them. It would at least be enough to raise enough pressure to force the Church to back down over Whitby.

"But I want to be wrong about them." Alexander had thought still holding faith the Church wasn't out for themselves. But the methods they're used up to this point was weighing heavily on the Knight's young mind.

But until they find the incriminating evidence, that option remained closed.

However, something else had resulted from their little back and forth.

There was no point hiding Alexander's confidence in Sir Moore was questioned since the incident. It's why the young knight felt concerned about the meeting that took place, and if the other knights felt the same, then that was a problem. But by confronting his superior openly about what just happened, Alexander had help revealed Sir Moore's willingness not to take what happened lying down. While he didn't agree with everything he said, the young knight had felt more confident in Sir Moore's leadership.

And he also hopes it was enough for the others if they had the same doubts.

"Yeah, enough of that depressing topic. A subject change is good. But... That, huh?" Sir Moore had said with a slight mischievous grin, that expression had grab Alexander's full attention.

"Well, let's see. Let's see now. Let's make that a reward. Yes, a reward sounds good. Beathen, if you can manage to impress me, then I'll tell you. You can get the rare experience of a witness' first-hand account."

Alexander smiled finally felt defeated. Sir Moore had got him in a way that always produced results from him or at least a reaction. Sir Alexander was humble that he would never proclaim he will produce the results his superiors seek but will promise he will do he can to fulfil his duty and that was to save Whitby from this haze.
"Then we have a town to save; let us get to it." Alexander responded who now felt more determined. He had so much to learn, and he honestly felt he can learn much in Sir Moore's presence.
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Erin Lightheart on Sat Feb 11, 2017 4:21 pm

The detective breathed out a sigh of relief as her initial fears and concerns were wiped away by the girl's stylish writing. There were only so many assumptions one could make so long as one side was unable to communicate. As long as the worst assumptions could be refuted, she felt more at peace. Looking up at the haze-choked sky, she continued speaking.

"I see. I'm sorry for misjudging you, Miss Blackwater. Or is it Mrs.? There's a lot of bad elements gathered in this town right now, hoping to exploit the situation and extract something, anything that could benefit them. Since our previous encounter was under rather, er...bad circumstances, I feared that people may still be after you, that you might be in hiding or something."

She gazed back at the girl with some newfound confidence, the earlier apprehension slowly melting away and giving way to a more sunny disposition. Now if only the same could be said about the town itself.

"I'm currently investigating some of the bad goings-on around the town. No real reason other than to make sure people don't get hurt. Of course, with all the...visitors with their agendas, this is going to be difficult. But if things weren't ever difficult, then the world would be a much better place, wouldn't it? Anyway, if you have no place to be or even doing the same thing, would you like to help? There's something to be said about safety in numbers, after all. Though i'd completely understand if you'd rather not."

That was a lot for someone to respond to non verbally, so she patiently awaited her response.
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Leivinia Birdway on Wed Feb 15, 2017 10:26 am

Her face suddenly flushing, the girl quickly averted her gaze, suppressing her urge to reveal more weakness by holding tighter onto the notebook and pen.

It was then that she would set the pen into motion once again.

「It is fine, right now.
Neither have I seen these people again, nor has anyone else attempted to harass me or at least succeeded in doing so.」

She’d flip the page the moment it was filled, only to start scribbling again.

Her way of writing and the way she replied made it hard to read much into her personality, since beyond the words that were simply left at black and white, she didn’t show much warmth — with the few exceptions being the smiles she had cast towards Erin before. For the time being, though, the designation «cold» did suit her quite well. Not only was it a strong part of her demeanour, but it also surfaced in the sight of her snow white skin and its temperature.

「It might be.
However, I sometimes question whether it is necessary to go through hardships like these in the first place.
What awaits isn’t always golden apples.
Then again if that’s what you truly des
Please do not try to get involved into things too deeply, if there are bad people around.
You might not believe me, if I say this, but there are people in this town who are outright evil.
I can tell by their presence alone. They’re too
Please just be careful.」

A great irregularity was found in her way of moving the pen. Between the tempo of a sewing machine and longer break intervals, which were only interrupted by short intermediate bursts, she was openly revealing the difficulty she had at imparting those words.

However, once that topic was off her mind she quickly resumed writing.

「I am sorry, but I do have to decline your offer, Erin.
I have not come to this place for the same reasons you have.
There is something else I must do.
Something only I have t can do.」

Even though her handwriting was quite elegant and orderly, the way she drew lines through the words was rather cruel. She usually didn’t leave it at a single strike but added plenty on top to make it hard for the other side to actually see through what she originally wrote. A strange kind of habit.

「What happened to that girl?」

Another flip, an entire change of topics. Or maybe she was building on what was just suggested.
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Erin Lightheart on Sat Feb 18, 2017 11:30 pm

Body language could definitely be described as a window into a person's heart. A window that could see past one's mask and facade if left unguarded, which certainly appeared to be the case this time. Not wishing to make this observation obvious, she answered Millinda's questions instead.

"The world is filled with evil people, so it doesn't really matter if this town has some, too. Business as usual, you might call it. While turning my back and ignoring the bad people is an option, it is also what allows them to succeed. One shouldn't expect a reward or rainbows and ice cream from confronting evil. People expecting such a thing are naive at best, and suicidally delusional at worst."

She took another look at the girl, and put on a warm smile of her own.

"It may not mean much now that it's already happened, but I made the choice to not ignore evil today already. I was about to wage all out war on those men who troubled you so much, and even the one who ultimately ended up providing the firepower only did so at my insistence. As for her, I don't even know. She probably has people tailing me to keep track of what I'm doing as we speak. At the very least, we're not enemies at the moment."

Still, the vagueness with which Ms. Blackwater alluded to her goals was worrying. It wouldn't be right to aggressively pry at the situation, as that would only make her react defensively. Wasn't there some fable about this sort of thing...?

"Your goals and plans are your own. However, you seem fairly certain that our goals won't intersect...can you at least promise me that they won't oppose one another? I can't be the one to make that promise since you're the only one who knows both of our plans."
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Leivinia Birdway on Sun Feb 19, 2017 5:06 pm

«Now I’m rather curious about that as well. Please tell me, will you?»

Millinda Blackwater’s shoulders jerked as she was taken aback by the sudden voice speaking up. For quite some time they had been the only ones out on the open street. Even if it was a town’s main street she had been sure to keep track of her surroundings the entire time and yet, atop one of the few stairs leading to one of the house along the street’s front doors there sat a girl in a white dress with black stockings. She was blonde and that grin on her face malicious.

Leivinia Birdway.

«Oh my, are you surprised that I managed to pull the same thing you pulled on me? What a sore looser you are then. But go on. I haven’t come here to pick on you. I just became so curious about the circumstances surrounding you that I couldn’t help it, Miss Blackwater.»

Running her mouth in her usual self loving manner, the girl truly posed quite a contrast to the silent hardly talkative and mysterious woman. White and black. Young and old. Malicious and…?

However, there came no response. Millinda remained mute. Of course she did, had she done so the entire time. This time only not even the pen in her hand would move. She’d just stare at the newcomer with her sharp eyes. The eyes of an animal as it caught someone trespassing on their territory. Hostility.

«Oh? I see. I see. I disturbed your little lovey dovey friendship time, didn’t I? I did it again, I guess. Teeeheee.»

Silence versus taunt. The winner became obvious. Her composure was falling apart, it became visible. The cold girl in black was close to her wits’ end. No matter how long she’d gaze at her enemy, nothing would change. Her glance’s power was simply deflected by those eyes, by that grin. She gulped.

And then, she switched targets. No, switching targets did not fit the behaviour she just showed. Once she tilted her head to face the other girl, Erin, the one she had been talking to just a moment ago, her…no that word couldn’t fit just yet, her expression changed entirely. Apologetic. Hurt. Frightened. It spoke more than any written word could ever have.

That was all she left.

The next instance the mysterious maiden that was Millinda Blackwater disappeared. She didn’t disappear in the sense of turning into thin air, but by the quick motion of her legs. She ran. And ran and ran. Until she crossed the next corner. Then she had truly disappeared. In the truest sense of the word.  

«Oh, what a shame!»
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Erin Lightheart on Tue Feb 21, 2017 2:13 am

It all happened so quickly that Erin's feelings on the matter no longer mattered. Millinda was gone in the blink of an eye, about the same time it took Leivinia Birdway to burst onto the scene to ruin everything. Facing away from the meddlesome child, she managed to conceal her exasperation for but a brief moment. When it came time to face her, her usual expression had been applied in its place.

"So I was right, after all. You really are obsessed with me. But i'm afraid that we're far too removed in age and ideology for it to work out."

She began to pace around while looking over her notebook, continuing to speak all the while.

"Or is it business, rather than personal? In which case, given that you have found a new way to succeed in driving potential allies and/or leads away, I must assume that you've come bearing a lead or even a solution far greater. In which case I would like to ask for this information, since equal exchange is a pretty well-understood concept, and you did just take away what I had. Perhaps you wished to rescue me from this mute person, suspecting her of being the culprit at the center of all this? However, since you made no effort to apprehend her, I can only assume that you're either letting her go on purpose to see where she'll flee and seek refuge, that you have someone around that corner to do the work for you, or she isn't an actual suspect and scared her away because having that kind of power over others is thrilling."

She stopped her pacing, closed her notebook, and placed it back in a pocket, breathing out deeply in what sounded like a sigh.

"Either way, out with it. I'm knackered and would prefer to just go to bed if there's nothing important to come of this."
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Leivinia Birdway on Sat Feb 25, 2017 9:38 am

A short snicker escaped Birdway’s lips upon the detective girl’s first comment on their sudden encounter, but in the end she left it uncommented shrugging it off for the sake of the conversation’s rest that soon followed up.

«Either way, out with it. I'm knackered and would prefer to just go to bed if there's nothing important to come of this.»

With all of Erin’s complaints on Birdway’s interference summed up, there was something like a short silence. It was neither the kind created out of remorse nor was it the kind that set the stage for some overly apologetic display of an excuse.
All there was, was a small girl that at some point had gotten up and moved past the taller one.

«Now aren’t we a little ungrateful? My my, you sure are blind to the most obvious reasons. If you haven’t understood until now, my only concerns with you is keeping you safe to see where you are going. And to prevent you from leaking unnecessary knowledge to the world. What else would I be doing here than to pursue these two aspects? Showcasing my own power, ruining your work? What kind of idiot are you taking me for?»

Even though there was a hint of delightedness enveloped by her voice, this time it also contained a factual coldness. It was a strange sensation that could very well be described as a means of expressing seriousness.

«Also, when did I ever voice interest in finding the culprit or any leads towards them? That’s your turf, not mine. I have what I need and I only search what I desire. Right now, that isn’t part of it. Still, I did feel some sort of curiosity when you suddenly disappeared from my surveillance, so I came and I found this. And I wanted to see more of it, therefore I interfered. Who would have thought she’d actually run away just from seeing me? Wouldn’t you call that quite strange? Might that Millinda Blackwater see me as a rival in love or maybe a natural enemy? Isn’t that a taaaad suspicious in itself? Then again, she is Millinda Blackwater after all. Everyone linked to that man should have that kind of aspect to their nature~»

In the end the girl in white and black had taken a few steps into the opposite direction of the blue one’s. She had moved with so little care and yet a hint of childishly forced elegance. As she was walking there the item in her hands finally became visible. It had been that very wand of red wood she had used before.

«She did it again, huh? Surely that Millinda Blackwater is skilled. Slipping my eyes just the way she wants to, whenever, wherever.»

Mumbling to herself, Birdway was waiting for a final retort, yet at the same time preparing to take off.
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Erin Lightheart on Thu Mar 02, 2017 7:21 am

Her method of getting Birdway to spill information unknowingly was successful, as usual. Still, Erin was legitimately exasperated at what had transpired due to Birdway's apparent carelessness. Her face remained as stoic as ever, but she remained open to displays of emotion as necessary as she calmly explained what she meant to the imperious wonderkind.

"Do forgive me for making assumptions, but I'm afraid that you make it difficult to ascertain and assist you in your objectives when you show up demanding gratitude in one breath and then insist you've done nothing worth thanking you for in the next. I understand there's something to be said about not telling one's whole life story to another person they just met, but it's about time you came clean about what you want, and what you expect from me, so that I may continue serving as your ally for this period of time. Or else misunderstandings like this will just keep happening and there will be nothing but frustration. I appreciate that you're looking out for me for...some reason, but it's difficult to avoid and work around danger when you don't tell me what you're protecting me from. If I knew precisely, I could take measures to look after myself and that would also reduce your workload. Isn't that better than what we have now?"

Delivering another one of her rambling monologues that got to the point and hopefully cleared things up, she took a deep breath as her tension began to fade.

"And while you may be right about it being suspicious that she fled a second time, you aren't taking all the information and circumstances into account. You are clearly a powerful and influential figure, and your first meeting with Millinda was you suddenly appearing on the scene to cause an explosion and create chaos with little effort. You may be unaware, but not all the peasants of the world are as jaded as I am. The vast majority of humans would have also fled upon realizing such a powerful and important person had snuck up on them nonchalantly in an already tense environment, and bearing an aggressive attitude to boot. Please keep your apparent reputation and appearance in mind before appearing in front of someone else. You may frighten them more than you intend."

Eying the corner which Millinda fled to before emulating Houdini, another thought crossed her mind.

"So, what happened to her 'beloved'? I assume that's the man you mentioned."
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Leivinia Birdway on Fri Mar 03, 2017 10:43 am

A cold wind blew.

«You assisting me? How boldly mistaken you are. Haven’t you noticed yet? Hasn't it ever occurred to you? It is me who is giving you a hand at all times. The times I saved you, the information, the guidance. Oh, have you thought you tricked me there? Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that all you got was given to you by my hands, intentionally?»

The tone of her voice had changed. It was still the jolly kind she’d been throwing around this whole time, yet nonetheless it was the first time it had grown ways sharper. She wasn’t just fooling around anymore, she wasn’t just friendly anymore, she was baring it, the knife called truth. Yet even now she wasn’t flushing it entirely. Was this the true face of the villain?

«Oh please please. Don’t assume that woman is some sort of ordinary person. Don’t compare her to the likes of the normal people. She isn’t. Hasn’t that occurred to you either? Something is wrong entirely there. Every move she makes, every step she takes, it’s suspicious. Not because of how she acts. It is what she does. Who she is. This woman is a black box, a mystery. Like an undisclosed down tarot card. You don’t know what awaits. You won’t know until you turn it over. But on the way to that all you feel is both curiosity and fear. Driving you towards it and halting you from crossing the line.»

Had she begun to play with open cards or had she only unveiled another one full of intentions much like before. The way she had skipped from one topic to the next without answering one of the key questions left things full of doubt, yet that was exactly the kind of player Leivinia Birdway was.

«Might I know what happened to that man or might I not? Who kno~ws»

At last her playful tone returned to its past glory. Not answering the final question, the girl finally placed a few steps forward, announcing her imminent departure, of course with a bold smile spread across her face.

«As for that and my goal, why not find out yourself. Aren’t you a detective~? Time to do some work. If you get close enough I’ll reward you. How about that, Fool?»

That was her final answer. And with the way she put it, the flow of information finally came to a stop. Not a single drop had been spilled. For the first time Birdway wouldn’t give a push, an offhand reveal or anything the like. All she’d leave on the table were the same two questions Erin had been hoping to get an answer for out of her.

Just as she moved on, a few steps later again, Birdway without tilting her head spoke up the words of goodbye, loud enough for the target audience to hear.

«Now then. I have important business to attend. We’ll meet at seven past eight before the local library. I’ll trust you to forward this to Albrekka as well. Oh, and don’t be late, yes?»

Following right after the big announcement, just like Millinda Blackwater a few minutes ago, Birdway was gone as well.
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Erin Lightheart on Sun Mar 05, 2017 9:42 pm

Yawn. That was about all Erin could muster in response after the girl spoke her mind and left. She finished writing every single word Birdway had spoken into her notebook for safekeeping, let out a puff of air into the chilly night, and turned back for the mansion. Getting a glimpse at the true Leivinia Birdway had been a success, so losing Millinda temporarily wasn't all that catastrophic a trade-off.

There was no point in taking what the powerful child said personally; if there had been one consistent thing today, it was that Erin had succeeded in proving to be incomprehensible to everybody around her. By simply telling the truth about her simple goals in this quagmire of lies and deceit, she guaranteed that those too smart for their own good would fail to actually see her for what she was.

Besides, everyone gathered here in this town had only their own interests at heart, so even the peremptory Birdway could hardly be blamed for not straying from the rest of the flock on that matter, as above-it-all as she pretended to be. Indeed, what was disappointing was that this status quo had yet to be changed even by the powerful.

She removed her hat and dusted it off before replacing it, looking solemnly toward the haze which blocked out even the moon.

"May we meet again, wherever you are."

Saying her goodbyes to Millinda who had so quickly vanished into the ether, so too did her presence vanish from the alley, leaving no trace of the unexpected liaison which transpired.
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Leivinia Birdway on Mon Mar 06, 2017 10:16 am

As the day moves onwards, the many stories keep moving forward.

Words are spoken somewhere, replies are given elsewhere.

The never-ending motion, change around any corner.

That was the nature of the clockwork.


February 13th, 10:15 A.M.

Somewhere in the noblest of all rooms a man of crimson sat on an armchair so noble it could very well be spoken of as a throne. The man’s smile was broad, overflowing with passion even. It was no longer human, but beastly. He grinned, he smiled, he laughed. A beast or maybe a madman?

«Yes! Yes!! Yeeesss!!! Soon! Oh so soon! Oh so very soon this lost land shall be blessed again!! Beginning with the slaughter of the beast and ending with a kingdom deserving of his blessings!! Yesss! Marvellous!!!»

He wasn’t alone. Even now as he was cringing in ecstasy over the future he so colourfully depicted in his mind, men and women in cold black stood by his side, their eyes wandering into the distant emptiness of space. Unmoving, unnerved, unaffected.

«We, no, I shall set the stage for the Lord to cherish! Truly he will love it! He will love me! He will feel joy!! Contempt! Pride over such a loyal servant! Such a dedicated servant! Yess, he will!!»

That room of contrast filled with both a madman’s laughter and the coldness of human statues, was enveloped by the clockwork slowly moving along.


February 13th, 13:23 P.M.

In a church’s silent prayer hall a strangely scruffy man with a poncho worn over priest attire sat among countless piles of paper. He was reading them, all the while chewing on a hamburger he was holding in his left hand. He seemed to be so absorbed in both practices simultaneously, it would hurt to see him be interrupted by any kind of outside source.

And yet that was exactly why he would tilt his head the next moment.

«Huh? You of all people? What do you want here? Hell, how did you even—»

The sudden interruption by his guest hit the man as hard as their very presence had to begin with. Perplex he eyed the sudden intruder, losing focus on both the burger and the information.

What sudden news, yet even now the clockwork wouldn’t cease moving.


February 13, 13:37 P.M.

The afternoon was calm. The many people, their many faces, they were looking into many directions, walking elsewhere, everywhere, doing everything and anything. It was the calming atmosphere that had been lost during night time. The Vampire. The strange visitors. The other factions. None of these seemed to affect anyone in town right now.

He felt rather comfortable moving around out there. Even for someone with his status and experience the streets for once felt safe.

Of course even now he couldn’t shake off the feeling that things would change if he only stepped around a corner the very next moment. He’d appreciate it, if only he were to finally run into the one he had been looking for all night.

Besides that was the way of the clockwork, wasn’t it?


February 13, 14:01 P.M.

In the shades of the shadiest corner in all of the town a bunch of shady individuals had gathered. They were so shady, their black suits, hats and secretive behaviour itself made them stick out like a sore thumb. Truly, those gathered in the shadiest shit hole of a pub right close to the harbour, were so overly suspicious it’d make any law enforcer feel stupid for having overlooked them.

Right now, however that was the best way to describe their state in the current affair.

«Rumour has it the Anglicans put the Knights on our tail. That really true?»

«What do we do? We can’t have them screw with our business just yet.»

«Shit. Shit. Shit. I heard Ronaldo’s group was taken out by some really powerful big shot as well.»

«And what about the guys that have disappeared? Think it was the Knights’ work as well? Fucking shit. What’s going to happen now?!»

To make it even stranger that club of shady individuals was gathered around a jester all in white and black.

«My my my. Aren’t the gentlemen lacking a lot of calm? The domain of our business has always been of that rough a nature. What surprise is there with a bit of trouble? If at all, everything is right where it should be. We have completed our assignment and I can assure you the preparations I had you make are worth sufficient amounts.»

That strange jester was speaking in a tone only befitting nobility and the educated. He did so all the while sipping from a glass of high quality champagne, he himself had brought in fully aware of the breach of regulations this may have caused. But that was what their kind had always been like.

Criminals

«Amounts that are very well worth some of you greeting the gallows.»

Maybe more of a devil than a jester. As his delight chuckle over others’ sacrifice resounded, the clockwork’s speed accelerated.


February 13, 14:03 P.M.

«I see. That’s some rather extensive offer you have there, heh. Here I thought you were bluffing. Fair deal, I would love to believe. But with you, I can’t be sure, can I?»

The priest in a poncho was sweating a fair bit, while trying to cover his own nervousness and doubts under the mask that was a smug grin. His failure at that attempt however would remain as clear as day. At least clear enough for the other side to exploit entirely.

«Really. I don’t know what you’re trying to make of this, but as a man of honour I can’t really stand down now, can I? So what is it that you wanna have from me?»

As the mysterious daytime guest explained their demand only a big question mark appeared over the usually all too mighty man’s head. He’d expected numerous things, yet this request had hit him entirely off guard. He would have loved to laugh, but he didn’t.

Until the very end of it, he couldn’t stop sweating.

«Really, if this is all you want…fine…listen up…»

The clockwork spun and spun and at the same time a man who should have known and understood everything was seeing his own wits’ ends.


February 13, 17:40 P.M.

His day had been entirely eventless. Once the daylight had disappeared, evening had drawn a dark cover over the town. Under the dim illumination of the moon and streetlights many shadows had begun to hush everywhere again. Black shadows, white shadows, colourful shadows, all the kind, yet none of them being the one he had been chasing.

He’d spent his day searching, the night as well, but nothing had turned up. He’d given up on it already if it wasn’t that he felt the urgency rise with every movement that occurred somewhere in the darkness of the shadows he didn’t even wish to pry into. The big players were on the move, he could feel it.

Night was closing in and with that something was about to happen.

Just as he calculated the possible events, the image of the children he had helped save the night before crossed his mind again. He wondered if his comrades took good enough care of them.

He wondered about what had happened to that girl, no to the both of them.

Just as he was about to cross an intersection somewhere in the town, someone called out to him.

That voice, it had been familiar.

The clockwork struck.


February 13, 17:41 P.M.

«Finally! The time has come! My dear comrades! My servants! My fellow believers! You, I, all of us! We shall be moving out! We shall be moving towards the heavens! Now the time has come to change things! It has finally come for us, the dawn of a new day! Let us drive away the night, the darkness and show this lost city the light of hope!! Let us march my friends, towards brightness and warmth! Let us bring it to them!! Let us commence the operation!!!»

In a noble space, the entrance hall of a noble high class inn, a man of red spoke to his devout followers of black cold, all kneeling before him. With him and his boiling enthusiasm and the chill of their loyalty, the contrast of the stage was entirely terrifying. Burning crimson and still black.

However, just as he was about to sing like a drunken beast, suddenly his right eye twitched. A single time. He paused. Enough of a gesture to disrupt the cold statue like atmosphere surrounding his men.

«Where is she? Where? Where? Where is she? Where did she go? Answer me?! Aaaansweeer meeeeee!!! Where is Franceska Purezza?!»

The clockwork struck again.


February 13, 17:42 P.M.

A cold sweat was running down his back even now. That meaningful conversation had passed a long while ago and yet even now it was gnawing on him. He couldn’t shake it off. That bad feeling this had imparted on him was impossible to ever be shaken off.

It hadn’t been a bad deal. It really hadn’t.

What he had gotten was worth far more than what he had given in return.

It felt so one-sided, his experience told him something was off.

But in the end, it had brought him what he needed.

Standing outside in the church’s garden his eyes met the moon in the sky.

He could feel a cold wind blowing past his sweat covered body.

He could feel the tension of the incoming night.

He knew the peaceful daytime was coming to an end.

He knew that soon all that which had been sleeping would awaken again.

«Now then. Let’s see if this little gamble’ll pay out.»

The clockwork struck again.


February 13, 17:43 P.M.

«I am deeply sorry for inquiring this again. But you see, I have nowhere else to ask. No one else to plead towards. And it is urgent. I really do need your help. So, will you lend me a hand again? Even if this time I do not have as much to offer.»

The nun with crimson eyes stood before him. Her voice even less powerful than the time before. He could tell the weakness in it was born from honest intentions. She was worried, afraid, a bit lost. He knew what she had been asking for. He knew in what position the two of them stood. He knew that none of this should have been part of his business. Yet he also knew this image didn’t suit her.

For a moment that man simply stood there, wearing the mask of a pondering negotiator.

However after only a short instance he spoke up.

His answer was…

The clockwork struck again.


February 13, 19:00 P.M.

The clockwork struck again.

Night had fallen, at last. It was still in an early form, but the change on the streets was imminent.

Many leaders had been set into motion. Their decisions were what would change the world in the hours to come. Schemes had been spun. The gambles made. Everyone’s eyes were at another. Their fangs prepared to sink into the throats of one another.

Everything was set on the table. The players were ready.

Was this about a vampire or about their respective worlds?

Who knew? Who could tell anymore?

The leader of the world’s shadiest individuals was grinning viciously as he prepared for his group’s final struggle.

The leader of the world’s most dangerous witch hunters was sweating nervously as he remained unable to shake off his worries, even in the face of his greatest gamble.

The leader of the world’s largest faith organisation’s delegation was caught in a state between burning excitement and infernal rage.

The leader of another of the world’s most powerful groups, seated somewhere in the town’s outskirts, was yet to make a move or show their face.

And the leader of the UK’s most dangerous group of troublemakers was nowhere to be seen.

The clockwork struck a final time.

It began anew.
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Leivinia Birdway on Mon Mar 06, 2017 9:17 pm

February 13, 19:07 P.M.

Somewhere not all too far from Whitby, the centre of the entire commotion, there was a large structure built not long ago. Made from concrete and lacking any kind of feature it was best to describe as a block of stone. With the sparsely spread windows and heavy presence of thick single coloured walls it was hardly anything ordinary. While some may have described it as a disturbance to the idyllic atmosphere, it was a sign of evolution, the wanted and unwanted kind. A warehouse belonging to an European upstart retail company that had quickly conquered the audiences all around.

That place was their goal.

A group of seven was currently wandering through the empty planes of only high grass and fields as far the eyes could reach.

Seven men clad in armour and armed from head to toes.

The Knights of England.

Henry Moore and Alexander Beathen.

Those were the two in the lead, followed by the other five. They were sneaking, moving like shadows in the dark. With the haze that had spread anywhere and the height of the grass as cover, the group held a field advantage that was only furthered by the deep darkness of the winter evening. Their motions were unnatural and so was their capability to handle the situation. Moving like elite soldiers from movies or video games they would go unnoticed, even with their heavy gear. They would move until grass met asphalt.

Then they split up, three groups of two, one left alone. Each group moving into another direction, easily spreading all over the area, taking eyes on any angle.

Once everyone was in position they would stop, keep hold, send each other signals.


The day had been a long one. From when they had met Richmond Longroad in the early morning, the bunch had been chasing around all of Whitby, seeking those they had been assigned to take down. While non of them liked their task, their unhappiness hadn’t stopped them from hammering justice down on those that sought none but evil.

However that agenda had hardly successful.

All they found were traces, yet not the enemy. Eventually in the afternoon a breakthrough was accomplished. A bunch of men had been found, a bunch of hideouts uncovered and quickly taken down. They had waged war against those demons, those shady creatures of the underworld and they had been quickly successful. Three or four hidden bases had fallen and yet the enemy’s presence hadn’t faded. However whatever they had done, whatever they had tried, in the end another of those shady individuals was quickly found after just a bunch of steps. What had been a great success before, had quickly turned to bitterness over having these little imps slip away all over again.

Their evils had been laid bare and yet they seemed unending. People had been saved, children been found. Still, many more seemed to have been lost.

It had to change…


…and the chance for that was right before their eyes.

With everything those brave men of England had done today, this stage was their final reward. This place, that storehouse in the plain lands, it was where all those traces led. The end of it all. The secret, the truth, the decisive place. The human traffickers’ lair.

One last chance to catch a breath, then go.


That building was in fact a storehouse. While some may expect something differently when thinking it was used by a vicious group of Magicians, the place indeed was nothing out of the ordinary. A labyrinth of high towering shelves as far as the eye could reach. Packages and boxes spread all over, some equipment here and there and bright lights shining like an artificial sun.

And amid that scenery of ordinariness there stood a group of people.

Numerous shady individuals in all blacks, wearing suits, coats and hats were gathered here and there, forming a thick circle spread throughout the many square metres of the gigantic storage hall. Some hidden in the shadows, some out in the open illuminated by the lights. Their numbers were likely far greater than what one might assume at first glance. But that was a wholly different story.

At the centre of all that commotion stood a set of three.

A blonde man in formal suit with scarf, a nun in black with crimson eyes and a jester of white and black.

Mark Space and Franceska Purezza, the invaders stood alone, facing all those others.

Before them stood a man that could only be described as extraordinary. A jester of simple colours.

While the most of his attire was a plain white uniform-like suit, what he wore on his head was far more striking. The cap of a fool, with three horns spread in three directions. Ornamented by zigzags of black and yellow and with a violet rose at each of their ends, it was quite like the classic image of jesters, yet a fair bit twisted. The face, not visible behind a thick mask of white make-up and purple eye shadows; his lips, painted red like blood, curled to form a delightful smile.

«I see, I see. So this is the reason that lead you here. How disappointing, I would say, if that were truly the case. However it is not. I am happy. I am delighted even, to have you here as my guests. Oh, as our’s. Where were my manners? So, either way. What can I do for you to make the stay as comfy as my heart allows?»

As the man spoke in the most formal and polite of all manners he formed a varying degree of gestures with his hands, arms and even head. The strangest feature besides the three horned cap most definitely was that Egyptian beard, that long sharp thing stretching from his chin.

«Quit talking, you fiend. I warn you. Cease looking down on us. We are only here to serve justice, unlike you impure scum that has kept lurking around this town, dragging down all the weak and innocent. You disgust me, you impure creatures. So cut it out, will you?!»

«It is as she said. I would prefer to refrain from violent means, therefore I will ask you just this one time: Where are the children?»

Both of them were openly agitated. The nun with her eyes of burning crimson burning like intense fireballs, the man in formal suit and scarf cold, strong and entirely serious. Especially with him it was a sight that did and did not suit him at the same time. He seemed both calm and calculated in the face of an overwhelming number.

And yet that jester was entirely different. Indifferent rather. None of the tension seemed to reach him. He was smiling, casually flinging around his arms and hands forming gestures anew as that delighted smile on his face did not falter.

«My my my. That, after so many years. That, after all that happened. Mark Space, you disappoint me. Then again, my expectations shouldn’t have been so high. It’s expected to forget such a small speck along these many years, yet still…it is frustrating. Aaaaah. My my.»

⭐︎☆☆⭐︎

February 13, 19:12 P.M.

The library of Whitby was nothing as outstanding as what the wording suggested. It was the only library in a small port town somewhere in the UK. It probably held enough to warrant some interest among readers or those that sought education, but that was it. The place being somewhere along an ordinary normal street, not even in a region specifically for pedestrians added further impressions to the absolutely non outstanding image.

Still. Exactly in front of its doors had been the appointed meeting place for the three of them.

Albrekka Starbright, Erin Lightheart and Leivinia Birdway, these three should have assembled there. However as of now only the first of them would have arrived with the latter two, especially the one who had insisted on being timely, being nowhere to be seen.

Haze was here, shadows there. The streets were dimly lit and the count of people only low. A bunch of the «weird cosplayers» was wandering around, a journalist asking questions to a pair of them and besides only a stray dog wandering around. That was all there had been on in this evening set-up.

An oddly silent and ordinary scene.

One that seemed to drag on for quite some while.

She was late, with no sign of it turning to the better.


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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Saravati Nair on Tue Mar 07, 2017 11:16 pm


In spite of the strange claims of the jester standing before them, the two’s expressions did not change. Francesca continued to glare intensely and impatiently as she had been doing while Mark stood in a state of calm. Yet, within that calm, a number of questions ran through him.

We’ve met before? He referred to himself as a small speck. Was he an enemy of the Dawn-Colored Sunlight? A former ally? A traitor? Part of a cabal we’ve smashed?

Numerous possibilities flew through his head. Though, none of them seemed to be ringing a bell. Surely such a unique figure would have left him with enough of an impression but apparently not.


“Do you know this piece of scum, heretic?” Keeping the same inferno in her glare, the nun turned her eyes slightly back to Mark and raised an eyebrow. She was far from surprised that the heathen would have been associated with such scum, though since he was against the white jester and was trying to rescue the children, he was obviously the more pure soul.  

Still, the Lord’s work was never done. Maybe this impure heretic could be led to the right path and be cleansed by the heavenly father. Some day, at least.

“Even if I do, I hardly recognize him. I don’t think anyone would recognize someone hidden by that much make-up.” Mark pointed out the fairly obvious.

“In that case…” She turned back, focusing her glare back onto the jester, and drew her nails. “Let’s force the answer out of you, scum.”

The jester had already made his choice.

There was no point in trying to allay the situation if the enemy had no desire to do so himself.

They just needed to do what they came here for, even if they were surrounded. Beat the information out of them.
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Albrekka Starbright on Wed Mar 08, 2017 1:01 am

February 13, 15:21 PM

Sobbing.  That is all she could do when she had finished her story, Albrekka sitting in the chair across from her.

The woman, Eva Forkspeak, had become a widow some few days ago, a result of the incident currently ongoing in Whitby.  Her husband, Bernard Forkspeak, had been a well respected barber, though had recently been irritable, as the incident had begun several days prior, the attention the town was getting personally bothering him.  Their wedding was very plain, but Bernard had taken a lot of effort to make it worthwhile, despite their lack of money.  That, and his hard work ethic made it clear that Eva had a lot of respect for him, and so, it was still hard for her to think about that night.  On the night of his death, he had decided to go out to the store, realizing late into the night he had forgotten something he had promised to bring home for Eva and the children.

"The hell is happening in this town..."  Was all Albrekka could say, allowing Eva some time to grieve.  This was not just directed to the grieving woman's husband, but to the even more recent death as well.  Paul, the man seemingly of "no interest" to Leivinia had died the night before.  It was one of the many avenues of possibility that had been snuffed out.  If only that explosion the night before had not occurred...what was Leivinia thinking?

Leivinia's thoughts, that was certainly the conundrum.  It wasn't too difficult to gather the information she needed from the locals; offering them someone to talk to, taking care of mine odds and ends for them to let them focus on coping.  A little bit of empathy goes a long way.  But Leivinia, she had certainly dug herself deep into the depths of what it means to be a "magician"; not an easy lock to break.  Still, she had a lot of potential as a replacement for Paul, if that avenue had been completely covered up.

"I...I need some time alone, sorry."  Eva would say, somewhat irritated, but still attempting to be reasonable.  They had both not spoken in some time, Albrekka lost in her own thoughts as well; it was for the best.  Albrekka would sit up, giving her a slight bow as a form of thanks, leaving the house and stepping outside without saying a word.  For a situation like this, time is the only thing one can hope for in terms of healing.  That, and someone who is willing to listen.

She would look to the streets, the day not quite yet done.  In contrast to the woman she had left to grieve, the streets were littered with people who seemed rather...calm, considering the circumstances.  Such a contrast seemed too out of place, questions swirling in her mind.  Was this yet another situation similar to last year?  But that incident had not drawn any interest from so many churches or cabals; any, for that matter.  Perhaps just the word of a vampire alone would draw their attention, the event only a coincidence?  No, that seemed too weak.  She would ponder this, walking down the street, lost in her own thoughts, headed towards the next place she had in mind.  That was, until she was called out to.

February 13, 19:12

It was cold, the haze returning to Whitby as thick as ever, the night had finally settled.  The library, the location Mark and herself had hoped to get to the night before loomed overhead.  A few hours prior, Erin and Albrekka had shared some of the intel they had ran into; considering their familiarity a year ago, it was rather natural.  One point was Leivinia's desire for the both of them to show up at the town's library.  It was strange, but just, perhaps, this would work out.  Though, considering Albrekka's dealings with her the night prior, and what had seemingly transpired between Erin and Leivinia, such faith was potentially misplaced.

Still, even if this plan goes awry, it was only one of many avenues.  Yes, so far there were...two, or three more, certainly.  However, considering the time, she had decided to give her three more minutes, at best.
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Vita Vesta Caesar on Mon Mar 13, 2017 8:49 am

What Moore held in his heart as they approached what seemed to be the temporary base of the Portuguese Market was not hope.

From the time that they had left Longroad, he had lost the ability to view events optimistically. No, he had sealed it away. As the loser, he had no right to view the world that way. Until victory was not just within his grasp but before his eyes, he would not regain that right. The color of the premise he had now died his vision with was thus: We are not dispensing justice. We are being puppeteered. There must be a deeper layer to the Market that he was unaware of, else he would not have been told to hunt them down.

For all their effort, he and his subordinates had found only two clues. The first was their discovery of the Market's lair, but that was an unnatural piece of fortune compared to the path they had taken to find it.

They had spent the entire day carving away at the city's shadows for any sign of the Market, but time and time again they had come away empty-handed. That was the first of three stages. What had followed their discovery of the abandoned bases was at long an occupied one, followed by several more. The second stage. Once they had been discovered, routing them had not been an issue. Their enemies lacked the strength to resist. Yet, to the very end, they had not spoken. Not a word escaped their lips regarding their comrades or superiors.

Moore doubted it was something so kind as camaraderie. Blood runs thicker than water, and it was therefore vivid images of such that kept their loyalty. Even when a different and very real reaper stood before them. 

That was why it was unnatural. Unnatural that they had somehow gained such important information after so much nothingness. Rather than rejoicing, he felt a stone weigh in his gut. What they had discovered was the base before their eyes, as well as information that a large number of children are missing. The third and final stage of their search.

A threat? An invitation? A trap?

He had no idea how to interpret it. Most likely, it was all of the above, and yet something he not conceived of. He assumed that it was something beyond him, the work of a mind more sophisticated than his own. A superior. And was that superior that man of the church? Or were they waiting for him, within the storehouse? All Moore knew was that he knew nothing.

Along the way, they had come across one other clue aside from the windfall of intelligence. Among the lesser hideouts within the city they had discovered, there were a few, just one or two, where they had not been the first visitors. What they had found there were clues, but not members of the Market either.

What awaited them had been nothing but blood-stained corpses, nailed to the walls.

He had given up thinking. His words to Beathen before had been the truth. He would wait for an opportunity to act, and following that his eyes truly had never shut. But he was out of his depth. What should he do to defy the plotters' expectations?

Leave it all to resolve itself. Crush everything and rampage. Continue like normal. Listen. Act. Negotiate. Sit. Stay. Thinking merely brought down him to a level he never wished to experience. 

That was the result of the day. However, he had not come to this town to become a victim, to play politics, or even to protect the populace. Those were his duties as knight and as failure, but not his purpose. The reason which stirred the blood in his heart even as the thoughts in his head turned stagnant was but one. With his own hands, he would hunt a vampire.

The day was therefore merely a prelude. The sun had set, and night had fallen. This was at last the territory of his prey. He had been drifting along powerlessly, but that would all change. With just a single step, everything would come crashing down around him.

He would show he had what it took to survive it.



The building was well-suited for the purpose of a headquarters. Without any distinguishing features, it was situated away from the town itself but close enough to command the forces within. The windows were too few compared to the size of the building to determine the situation within, and there were enough points of entry that the manpower needed to block them all would be hard to come by.

For any group but the Knights, approaching unnoticed would have been an impossibility, and even for them exterminating every rat within most likely still was.

But that hardly meant they were powerless. The number of doors was meaningless for that cube-shaped building. With four walls, there were four directions they could enter from, four directions that they could escape from. So they would herd the mass of rats within those walls towards a single path.

Moore, Addicott and Beathen would enter through the front and take the attention of those within. After waiting a few moments, the others would enter from the sides. Howell and Plaskett from the left, Wescott and Heath from the right. If they overwhelmed the forces within quickly enough, then the thought put into their entry would be put to waste, but if not, then they would be able to shove them all into the same direction instead of allowing them to scatter. Even if running, they would make fine targets.

Reconnaissance was over. It was time for an assault. Moore filled his body with energy, and gave the signal.

The final battle against the criminals and the first against the heretics.
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Sir Alexander Beathen on Mon Mar 13, 2017 2:52 pm

For Alexander, the stench of blood and the excitement of battle seemed rather normal to him. It didn't faze him like it would any normal person, the cold eyes he had with swords drawn, and blood spilt had shown a frightening aspect of his personality. It was seen countless of times throughout this day as they went from one location to the next and finally waged war against the Portuguese Market.

For those they had found, they slaughtered without much resistance despite chances for them to surrender and to talk. Though there seems to be a clear-cut reason to act against this group, the feeling of being used never left Alexander's mind. Even when the battles with the group became so one-sided that seemed totally unfair, the young knight continued knowing he was just doing his duty.

Though being frustrated about the lack of learning anything concrete about the group so far was a reasonable response, the young knight, however, had seemed to understand the reason for it. None of those they had faced hasn't talked yet because they had nothing to spill in the first place. Which made it all the strange they had stumbled upon what seemed the last base to wipe out in Whitby.

And news about the missing children fell on Alexander's shoulders as nothing more than an extra burden. With the haze so thick and the human eyes so limited anything could've happened to those kids. So Alexander decided to keep an open mind, while these people are known to be human traffickers and seemed most likely to be the culprit. It was foolish to assume the obvious in this situation, especially when up to this point looked like they were dancing to someone else's tune.

It was sad to say that the missing children may be an obvious bait to draw them in. And considering the numerous groups within the town seen by him, this might be more like the church using the knights to wipe out the competition. And while he had no proof for that theory, the young knight will do what he can to figure out what is going on.

But for now, at least he should try and keep an eye out for children. And hope that they're safe wherever they are at this moment of time. Though he would soon find out if the Portuguese Market had anything to do with the children's whereabouts as the Knights prepare to surround and attack from the four entrances into their base.

Splitting their forces to do just as planned, Alexander had been grouped with Addicott and Moore which worked just as fine. Normally you would think someone like Alexander would keep to the back and support his comrades from behind, but that isn't how this worked. Alexander wasn't someone to always fight from behind; the young knight didn't fear the front and his frighteningly calm demeanour during a battle was a testament to it. He will go with them, both Moore and Addicott together at the same time he shall fight by their side like a true knight.

The question was his proper placement, as long he stayed between them he would be able to support them and cover their blind spots while also having a clear path back to the entrance and also to charge forward. He can also act as a magnet, Alexander's ability to strengthen his fellow knight's resolve would make him an obvious target along with his ability to heal. Also able to hold his own defensively, the young knight could lead enemies into a pincer attack by Addicott and Moore from both sides.

As such the placement of him in the middle was a strong tactic and Moore hadn't seemed to disagree since he had not mentioned to Alexander to fight from behind. Believing his superior trusted his actions to act effectively in battle the young knight committed to his plan.

A plan which needed not to be said to his comrades since the foundation of teamwork was trust. And it was teamwork which the knights had done best compared to anyone else.

And while making sure his shield was properly secured to his arm, Alexander had thought about something.

Timing would be proved to be important here; he had a way to draw as much attention as possible to him and his group. But using it would require drawing his blade, and that couldn't happen until after Moore gives the signal to charge into battle. The idea had come up before they arrived at this location resulting in Alexander polishing his sword more than he usually does to get the required effect. It was a type of ritual in practice, but it served to activate a very fundamental aspect of his weapon.  

And that preparation would pay off once his superior gave the order to charge into battle and with no sense of fear in his eyes, the young knight at that instance drew his blade with conviction, and it glowed brightly responding to the strength of the young knight's heart. This same light was once seen before amongst the haze, and it filled his fellow knights with the strength to fight at their best with no fear or hesitation.

And mostly importantly it contributed significantly in catching their enemies attention. In doing so, he was clearly able to get a look at who was present, and it was evident to him here was more than the Portuguese market.

The very least he had to expect almost anything.
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Leivinia Birdway on Fri Mar 17, 2017 12:04 am

The situation was a dire one. Two people surrounded by a swarm of carnivores. The nun and the man in a formal suit, and the jester and his army of shades on the other side. No matter how filled that gigantic hall was with shelves containing packages and boxes, some quite large some rather small, it was the gloomy presences that truly made it overflow. Two against an army, the un-ignorable truth.

However while the many were gathered, only one man would dare to step in front of all the others, treating the guests of honour.

«My my my. What a violent maiden you are. How straightforward. How well oriented even. I am amazed, astonished, a bit curious, though. Why is it that you desire to find those children? Is it some sense of morals? Some code you follow? Or maybe the believe in your great mighty Lord, miss nun?»

As he spoke he kept forming gestures with both of his arms, hands and even fingers. Minuscule ones, complicated ones, artistic ones.

«The children. Well. Now. Where are they? What do you think? That we kept them here in some lair, maybe shipped them out onto the sea or are even hiding them right underneath your nose? Do we seem brave in your eyes, like inferior cowards or maybe like sly foxes? What do you think we did? What do you think I’m plotting, no, what we are plotting? Take your guess, or don’t. Just look around well enough~»

Like a truly tasteful man he spoke, stretching out the both of his arms, as if presenting the whole glory of the stage lineup. Maybe it was to direct the guests attention at the numerous comrades he had gathered to stand by his side, or maybe it was to draw it towards something entirely else.

«And you, Mark Space, it truly pains me for you to not yet have realised who it is you are exchanging words with. However, I would prefer for us to wait until the arrival of our remaining guests, before I rightfully introduce myself. You see, you are actually the surprise guest tonight and the real ones have yet to arrive. Then again, they have already.»

Carefully moving the topic of his monologue forwards, a faint smile formed on that devil’s red lips. Just as he wrapped up those words, he bowed forward, his back so perfectly straight, the elegance was impossible to deny.

«Now then. Now then. I welcome you, Sir Henry Moore.»

Exactly when those words had been formed by his slender lips, the brave warriors came bursting in through the walls.

«So, may the show begin~?»

And next the fireworks went loose.

There was no pattern, no form, no plan. All there seemed to be was men and their fire. Fire like flames, wind blades, beams of water, rocks and many more. The four elements were thrown all about, thrown straight at the men in armour. And as they fired, the shady men and women dissolved into the shadows. They didn’t disappear, or flee, though. All they did was seek cover amongst the shelves, climb upwards, sneak around them or use them as shields right away. It was chaotic, wild, uncoordinated, surprisingly blunt.

But why, if they had already known?

That mischievous jester’s smile was all the more of an answer.

Truthfully, he seemed to be entirely satisfied.

⭐︎☆☆⭐︎

The evening was silent indeed. Leivinia Birdway was late indeed. The only of the three that had come to the appointment was yet to receive any sort of company on that lonely, empty evening.

Where were they? What were they thinking? Were they close by, watching, laughing off their ass savouring a childish joke? Or had they been caught up in some unforeseen new calamity?

In the end, though, someone was in fact close by and watching. Yet not Leivinia Birdway. Not even a girl to be precise. The watcher was a grown man, around 20, clad in black. What he wore wasn’t a suit, but a robe, a religious one to be even more precise.

However unlike any priest one may have encountered, he held no protective warmth. Indeed, that man was no holy father for the innocent to run towards in search of safety. His soul was stained, his hands had performed the act. He was as cold as the dead; the dead he himself had seen off.

And his eyes of cold grey were glued on the single one present of the three. As he stood there on the other side of the road, nothing seemed to interrupt his stare.

Absolutely nothing seemed to cut it off right there.
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Albrekka Starbright on Mon Mar 20, 2017 1:08 am

Nothing.  The night was quiet, with nothing stirring.  It had seemed that Leivinia had other plans.  That, or this was her plan all along.  Considering who Leivinia was, it was likely the latter.  

"Lets see what happens, then...  She would mumble to herself these words, stepping away from the library to walk back to the street.   "Huh?"    As she stepped forward, away from the library, she noticed the man in holy garb across the street, staring at her coldly.  "Is there something you need, father?"  She would address him,formally, unsure what his desires were;  the worst case scenario was obvious, though.

"...hmm, you don't know a 'Francesca' by any chance, do you?  She was tending to some orphans yesterday.  I figure she's with your group, considering..."  Well, considering they seemed somewhat similar, the thought had crossed her mind.  The night before, Mark and her helped Francesca house some of the orphans, considering all of the powers at be converging to Whitby and the potential of some of those forces wanting to take such children for themselves.

Regardless, despite the man's clear, cold expression, she would attempt to talk with him.  Truthfully, it was the real end result anyway; if she had walked away, the man would have clearly followed her.  It would be best to cleanse the air of any misunderstandings to begin with if something bad was about to occur.
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Re: [SS] Hazy Silhouette

Post  Leivinia Birdway on Mon Mar 20, 2017 10:45 am

That man had been watching her the entire time. His eyes glued on the girl, free of anything noticeable to read. He was hiding his emotions or he may have never had any to begin with. He was cold, as he kept his glance focussed solely on the one with the green braided hair. It was a foolish thing to assume that that was an entirely normal thing. Even in the most ordinary of all surroundings a man watching a young girl with that kind of eyes, was something entirely dangerous. Something that should really ring a lot of alarm bells.

«Is there something you need, father?»

Even that cold statue’s eye twitched as the girl had suddenly walked up to him.

«…hmm, you don't know a 'Francesca' by any chance, do you?  She was tending to some orphans yesterday.  I figure she's with your group, considering…»

It was hard for him to suppress a reaction to the sudden approach, did it in fact catch him rather off guard.

However, only a moment later that man’s coldness had returned to its original form.

«Francesca Purezza. I do know her. That traitor will burn at the stake. Just like all of them. The Dawn Coloured Sunlight, is it? Unfortunately that heretic let herself become involved with people on the wrong side. Fortunately, all of these pagans will meet that same fate. All of them will meet that very same fate.»

A priest speaking such words with such great cold was indeed something strange. He didn’t make a secret of his true intentions, speaking about them in the most obvious of manners, laying them bare just like that. Then again, could it have been intentional. Could he know whom it was that the girl had been about to meet just a moment ago? Could he or his allies know of everyone belonging to that organisation and everyone who had gotten involved with them during their stay in the small port town? Could it be that this was exactly what he was playing at?

He stared at her deeply, seeking any kind of reaction, awaiting something entirely small if at all. A single hint, a single mistake, he’d just loathe for it to surface.

«Each and everyone of them, child, man, woman, all shall burn at the stake. That is the word of our leader. That is the will of the Lord.»

He rubbed those words into her face intently, yet not making a single hint of a movement of his own. It seemed he was waiting for something, as his stare never let off. But what was it?
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