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[P]  For All We Seek

Offline Ithra Mar 14 2020, 1:51 PM
#1
  • Ballasburn
  • Age: 40
  • Gender: Female
  • Race: Eximius
  • Rank: Ithra, The Diamond Lady
  • Total Posts: 2
  • Played by: Ithra
125 Mana · View All Items?
The world was always quiet if one looked at it from the shores of Ballasburn. Quartered in the forgotten cesses of nearly all sentients on this forsaken rock, the Eximus were outcast from the nation. Outcast from history. Break the froth hanging over the sea that split them from the rest of the mainland and one would see how disastrous the world’s attempt to silence and destroy the Eximus had failed. Yes, it was in part because they were able to outpace all other nations in their technologies, their architecture, their infrastructure; more, it was because they were fearless. They found flame incarnate in kinship, and from that kinship came the warrior they needed! the warrior they, too, sent away: Sullivan Renepault. The Brass Hammer.

It had been some days journey from the tip of Ballasburn across the narrow straits to Giruvaga proper. She had orchestrated travel herself, paying the shipwright handsomely for this single expedition. Perhaps luck favored her, they made it to their destination without catastrophe. They docked to a crowd as expected. Hands clasped against the midriff of the jade green dress, gold hoop bracelets dangling and clanging against one another, she slid her pupiless eyes across them all.

”Gentlemen, is this how we welcome guests in Giruvaga? I appreciate the zeal, at least.” she stepped forward, hands still where they were,

”Renepault, where is she?” from her lips the words came inscrutable, she would either wait or embark blind. Either way, she had come this far and would not be turned away.
Offline Sullivan Mar 17 2020, 1:57 PM
#2
  • Giruvaga
  • Age: 33
  • Gender: Female
  • Race: Eximius
  • Rank:
  • Total Posts: 28
  • Played by: Onii
315 Mana · View All Items?
She wasn't among them--not initially.
It was neither here not there for someone like her. These were people who'd been here far longer, who were born here and would die here. And she was a traveler of some sort, passing through and momentarily dormant until she needed to be elsewhere. That was how it always was, there was no permanence for The Brass Hammer. It was why she'd moved from her seat in Ballasburn without a fight, gracefully accepting the new crown of impeachment post-war, and post-success. Giruvaga had welcomed her, but at some costs. At some isolation. Dorsum meanwhile had sought her where the King was concerned, but in a more..personal, more complicated manner. For now, though, she stays in Giruvaga. It was the only place she felt was outfitted enough to house her, though that belief did not come from a place of superiority. The fine tuning of places like Ballasburn and Dorsum were infinitely beyond a woman who spent most her life fighting...like setting a cage tigress out into the urban streets and waiting for her to cope.

Many warriors had pulled up to the coast with their winged mounts at the ready and weapons drawn. Wild eyes and stern faces, someone waiting for a more trusted member of the pack to make the first aggressive move so that they, too, could skewer the intruders right as they touched the soil. There was a nonchalance about these ones, and immediately they had surmised it was some manner of Ballasburnaan. A very brazen voyage to be sure, but as far as they could see there was no immense fleet following closely behind for a full-scale war. "If we wanted them, you would know" one of them among the crowd snaps back, the words hissed between teeth and tense. The silence was thick around them, the distrust for their neighbor palpable. Giruaga was by nature a very tight-knit place, and unless orchestrated talks were made there was no real guarantee of safety. Even then it was a toss-up, because the politics were considerably more short-sighted and unpredictable than a place like Svalbard, who would play a long game of deception for many decades.

Sullivan knows this better than anyone.

”Renepault, where is she?”

So that's why, when she hears her name she pulls from her half-finished work, her heavily-scarred fingers slipping away from the partial braids of her alicorn's mane. Stepping out from the hooded stable and into the high light of the noon, she headed out towards where the crowd had gathered at the coastline.
Into the throng she didn't mind pushing through any bodies she felt would only be moved in that manner. Some would turn back to look at her with a stern expectation, but once they recognized that scarred face of hers they were quickly smoothing their feathers. When finally she made it to the very outer band of the group she without hesitation stepped outside it, now facing the woman even ahead of the front line of defense. The seasoned warlord took one good look her, chin raised as it always was, and made a fair enough judgement about the type of woman she was seeing. She raises a single full brow and tilts her chin, her vibrant eyes aglow with inquiry. "...Is Ballasburn looking for restitution now, too? I do not suppose this is just a courtesy call." there was amusement there even if the smooth boom of her accented voice very seldom revealed when she was being cheeky or humorous to break the ice. It was one of many things that made lesser confident people uneasy around her; this illusion that Sullivan Renepault had no sense of humor, only exactness.
Offline Ithra Mar 18 2020, 3:38 PM
#3
  • Ballasburn
  • Age: 40
  • Gender: Female
  • Race: Eximius
  • Rank: Ithra, The Diamond Lady
  • Total Posts: 2
  • Played by: Ithra
125 Mana · View All Items?
Ithra took off no veils. Once the sounds accompanying Sullivan’s words collapsed into their destined hush, she leapt on the back of the former Speaker’s assumption,

”I do not know what Ballasburn seeks, sister. We have many voices all trifling for whatever they think will allow them a prefix.” there was nothing concordant about Ballasburn, as Ithra and Sullivan knew well, regardless of what unity the bereft nation claimed. Illuminate alabaster orbs swept up and down the fleshed tempest who stood before them,

”I do not trifle. Your scars tell me you do not, either.” preterminces became ghastly with just a few years freedom. Sullivan was supposed to be monstrous: tall as the canyons, the fire inside her now turned true and auratic, the blazes of all her wars forever wrapped around her no matter where she went, burning men alive just by standing next to them. How dastardly and feeble was the mind!

”They speak of you still--in the council halls and the depths of Afiel Ca Sein--the pilfer who won us our freedom then left to find a new cage.” her pitches never shifted and she put only the slightest stresses on opposing ideas. Those eyes hopped across the men surrounding the two women, no more than a half second’s pause at any face before moving to the next.

”Tell me, sister, what are we to make of wild things?” she moved, finally, in a way more akin to gliding than walking. Each step intentioned until she landed herself behind Sullivan and stood in front of the fearsome ones who guarded this land.
Offline Sullivan Mar 19 2020, 12:17 AM
#4
  • Giruvaga
  • Age: 33
  • Gender: Female
  • Race: Eximius
  • Rank:
  • Total Posts: 28
  • Played by: Onii
315 Mana · View All Items?
The juxtaposition between the tigress and the ones who surrounded them now was miraculous. She was known for her fire, her boom, and yet now she was the most tame of them all. Patient in the face of council not because she'd been declawed, but because The Brass Hammer was always one who stood by the idea of "ask, and receive." As it stood she had nothing better to do than to listen to the words of a woman who certainly had an agenda--whether her own or for others, who could say.
There was a thoughtful purse of her full brows, a slight twinkle in her eye. So, it seemed Ballasburn was transitioning as best it could into a new era, but...without much orderly success. She had foreseen that, not because she thought herself to be the sun they orbited around, but simply because the path she'd carved out for them was the one they clearly had wanted to be rid of. In so doing, they would fumble to find an unprecedented new one. Whether she thought they were brazen or foolish, who could say?
"..Many voices. Many Speakers. The downside of such a government--but conversely, the very beauty of one. To speak, and complain of those speaking, and yet not lose our tongues." as far removed from the wretched monarchies and oligarchies as it could be. As it should be.
Even if she personally...hadn't gotten along with many of those voices back in the day.

”I do not trifle. Your scars tell me you do not, either.” Sullivan gave a small nod to confirm it, a soft wave of movement. It would be foolish to assume her temper as old as her scars appeared to be; whittled away by time and isolation and environmental change. She would surely earn more of them, and would continue wearing them the same as she wears her hair. "I would imagine a woman who came to Giruvaga without a fleet behind her to also be someone who does not trifle. No need to convince me further of that." She believed her in actions alone, a method of reading people that Sullivan was very known for. So many had said the same manner of things to her that the woman was telling her now, but this one..she'd proven it before she'd even uttered the words now.

When she'd left, that was it. There was no attempt to keep up with Ballasburn's politics, their new Speakers, things that were no longer her business. She had cursory information, and would hear of any tragedies should they unfortunately unfold--but nothing trivial otherwise. They'd made their decision to strip her of rank, and she'd made the decision to remove herself entirely from their sight. Her work there was done, and if she was an issue for their development then it was best she'd not continue on even as a citizen. She imagines that some liked that decision. "A new cage.." she toys with that particular phrase before deciding with an amused huff that it was "..fitting." It was a trade of one thing for another, with no real change at all. You might think she had more freedoms here than in the gilded halls of Ballasburn, the grace and artistry of the proud Eximius nation..but Sullivan had never been any more graceful there than she was here. So, what really had changed for her?

Sullivan watches her in silence. She can feel the heat of her gaze zipping through the crowd around and behind her and they can too. The aggressive shuffle of mounts and the hissing breath of their riders, the many prepared at any moment to slice the throat of the woman who was making herself far too comfortable on their soil. Sullivan had heard someone in the crown slip away, though she cannot for sure say where. She imagines to Halha, where they would make their new leader aware of these events, but...that was none of Renepault's business.

After all, this woman was the one who'd asked for her by name.
If none else could do such a thing, she would not come.

When the stranger approaches, Sullivan does not reach for the long war knife strapped to her leg. Despite how others certainly readied themselves, she did not think to. ”Tell me, sister, what are we to make of wild things?” She mulled that description over for a moment, fluidly turning just as the other reached her side as though it were a rehearsed act. Now they were both facing the crowd as they stood in a thick band separating the beach from the grassed terrain. A warning, and maybe for them both.
Sullivan was not the woman you wanted to warn, though.
A hand raised to her own chin, a thoughtful fidget common for the dictator who spent many sleepless nights planning their next strike. "we take them as they are, I suppose. Ballasburn had once been just as wild you know. I have never personally been one for the designer pets that come out of Human nations, but..to blend with the wild ones, you simply establish that you're wilder than them." Anyone who had bitten The Brass Hammer had been bitten back many times more, and all who had seen that unfold learned a lesson at the expense of the one. After a moment, Sullivan turns directly to her and waves a dismissive hand to the warriors standing their ground. "These ones are only protecting their land, however. This is fine. I would prefer we speak in the privacy of your ship, if it is truly me you wish to see. Then they will be happy, and so will we." A very diplomatic solution.