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[IC] TotMV:G^2: Clash of Fate: The Armory (Social/Prep Phase)


Chevaleresse

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The armory and smithy of the Asterlux house were well-stocked at one point, but beginning to show the wear from a long conflict. Still, there are plenty of tools for maintaining weapons and creating new ones, even if stock is limited, and several weapons waiting for use still line the storage rooms. Another, locked room is marked as the storage space for the ranking nobles of the house.

 

Characters may move freely between this and other social threads that are not the Castle threads.

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A Stone Beast, Gozer, in fact, plods into the armory.  Finding someone in charge, he shows them the Officer's Armor, and requests access to enough metal to duplicate it 9 times over.

 

"I assure you it will be put to good use. I plan to use subterfuge alongside my allies."

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Venus

 

Having been cooped within walls for the majority of the fiasco that had ensued before things had settled down, all the artist knew of what had concurred was something that pertained to new arrivals of allies, elected leaders, and other riffraff. Things that while originally a person with flair for art himself would have interest in, Venus had decided to keep off for the time being. Complexity was of an essence the artist favored, but there were limits the artist himself had to respect.

 

Venus' attentions suddenly returned to the corner of the room, where he spotted Hiroki -- whom he remembered as the first person whom he had, amongst the group, willingly removed his mask and revealed the deformity that laid beneath it, having found a natural affinity with her, the similarity of which the two wore a facade of their individual sort, masks or shells that sheltered the soul that was tucked in beneath. He had wanted to continue his conversation with her had he not been rudely intervened by the entrance of a certain someone; and even despite the long time that passed without them acquainting more from whence they had halted in the ballroom, the mildest interest toward her had lingered -- and the fact that she seemed unoccupied furthered that interest, given to him by this coincidental opportunity. 

 

"Alone here, Hiroki?" He bowed to her in greeting as he approached her, "Well, I would suppose you would find some natural affinity with the armory. What have you been partaking in during...well, what ensued previously? Were you involved in any significant way in all of that?"

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Hiroki had mostly been wandering aimlessly. She didn't know anyone here, of course, so she'd just tried to find the place that had the fewest people going in and out at all times. It seemed, however, that one person had followed her in - the artistic type from before. She honestly still thought he was a bit creepy, but he didn't seem actively malicious, so talking to him couldn't hurt. "I, um, just tried to get to the castle as quickly as possible, if that's what you meant."

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Venus

 

"Ah, that it would be that you'd sit out what had ensued previously," Venus replied. "Though since we're both here, perhaps it is a sound time for us to...pick up our conversation from whence we left off," He tried to soften his gaze, knowing that it came across as intimidating at times, even when shielded from the hem of his mask. "I take it you remember? I believe I was to...illustrate my part of the story until someone intervened in the middle...may I presume you're alright with resuming our conversation?"

Edited by Noir
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"I don't know what you mean. . ." Hiroki said quietly, under her breath. What is it that she'd supposedly sat out? She barely had any time to sit down before they were dumped into another world with an army of skeleton things to fight.  "Yes, you, um, can keep telling your story." 

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After a small group of them left for the War Council, Soryn set his mind to exploring the place. It was a welcome distraction from the distress he was feeling earlier. Despite the perpetual frown on his face and his grumpy demeanor, he was feeling lonely. Being torn away from his home unwillingly and being forced to fight for an unknown cause was unsettling. He yearned for home. He broke off from his train of thought when he stumbled upon two people; a man and a girl who were probably with the group he came in with, given that they didn't seem like the garrison's soldiers. He quietly inserted himself at the side and began to eavesdrop, making no effort to conceal the fact.

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Venus

 

“So, where would I begin...” Pressing his fingers to his chin in thought, Venus wandered back to his memories of the distant past, in the time before time he was exposed to the art, before he wielded the instrument in his hand, before he wore the mask on this face. “You could say I was born to a family where most would deem me exceptionally lucky. My birth family, the Tireurs, were of an affluent heritage, the owners of several gold mines in my homeland and beyond. But such esteem from wealth was not what I had sought. It was an effortless title worn upon our heads like crowns, as the family had simply inherited that for generations, much like how our great ancestors had once claimed the mine for their own after finding it merely through sheer coincidence and luck. Little of what the family had was earned -- it was served on a silver spoon, and served them such wealth did, for amidst a life of luxury I found everyone around me spoiled with the finest of finery, not settling for anything less. And yet amidst such a way a living and the leaf-green envy and reverence I knew it would garner -- I was unsatisfied. I lived with servants who did as they were told, as if I was the instrument and they were the players, as if I was an ornament polished daily for show, wealth being my only quality. What I wanted was to be respected rightfully -- I wanted to live, to live a life where I did something, and did something that was rightful of applause and respect.

 

And what but a thing, I had once wondered -- would I want to be respected for? Out of sheer coincidence I was invited to theater, a commonplace venue of entertainment for the nobility like our family, wherein the expensive seats, and finest actors warranted the exclusiveness of the wealthy in their presence. And thus I watched -- people on stage that lived, lived lively manners, and lived to entertain and serve. I was not blind to the fact that such skillful performance took practice like most did. I was not blind to the efforts that took place that warranted the applause at the end of the performance, and it was then I had found my answer -- I wanted to be like them. To appease, to gratify, to please. Live was worth living when one lived in the pride of helping others -- a sentiment I envied many a serving maid or butler for, as much as they would say otherwise.

 

I remember my family’s disdain of my preposition – the nobility lived to be served and not to serve, this remained fact, as it had always been for many years, even at an age where I was free to decide my own path. The gold mine would perpetuate our wealth for far too many a year, only serving to shackle us from actually getting up on our own two feet. They did not stop me, however -- they could not stop me. I paid no heed to their scornful ways. I learned in secret the arts of drama and theater, enraptured by the various exposures I was given, from music, to painting, to prose and dance. I learned with my soul -- and, admittedly, with the family's abundance of wealth, so massive that my parents paid little heed to what was taken and left -- everything I needed to know, everything I wanted to know. But I didn't seek just to be on that stage, if only once, if only simply to perform, if only just to appease, be it of whatever scale I was given or asked for -- I wanted the front page. Be it a heritage of my familial greed or my own obsessions towards this compulsive work -- I wanted the tip the mountain. I wanted to be a star above all others, a single artiste so great one cannot hope to parallel.

 

And thus my efforts bore the finest fruits as my debut earned me the fame and fortune I had desired -- and then on, I got what I sought, respect from what was rightfully deserving of it. Critics praised me in any paper, and even to move around in public became difficult. I rose through the ranks swiftly, my fame spreading at every corner, until I even made my own theater, had my own crew and sets. In that short time of development, I had grew to be the finest star available, my influence expanding beyond our city and beyond, which only fueled my capabilities to perform. It all seemed perfect; but what bothered me most was that my efforts only served to fuel the greed of the family, knowing that the city's finest actor was of their heritage, another bragging right, another shining jewel in their crown to boast over. My once beloved family only continued to shackle me through and through, until..." He halted, knowing that his voice had grown bitter as he recalled that memory , as he took a breath to calm himself, knowing that he did not want to perturb the young lass with his story. 

 

"Pray tell-" The artist's voice suddenly plummeted from it's previous prideful tone as he lamented, "Do you know what it's like to lose a part of you? To lose something -- or someone -- idiosyncratically precious?" 

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Hiroki shook her head. Her misgivings were beginning to resurface. . . all of this scorn of his family, combined with the man's penchant for his "art" led to the worst conclusion. She'd never really been fond of her family, but it's not like she wanted them to die. If they could have just. . . been there, sometime. Any time. But they'll learn as soon as I go back to Tempest once and for all and win the tournament. And then become a god. . . That was a thought that'd been nagging her of late. What was she going to do after she won? She didn't really have any plans in mind for any of the planes. Maybe Blink would help her?

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Jade was sitting on the ground leaning on the wall. He was enjoying some rest time after his previous one was interrupted. He wasn't into strategizing and preferred to follow orders. Which is why he left the hard thinking to the others. It was then he noticed Mitsurugi walk in, and she didn't seem like she was in the happiest of moods. He didn't like seeing her like that, especially after what happen last mission with the Gary. He got up and walked up to her. "You alright Lass? Something happen?" He asked her with concern in his voice tilting up his hat with his life thumb.

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Sachi Honda

Sachi sets foot into the armory, looking around for her group, announcing her purpose at the top of her very light and small voice.

"U-uh....if y-you're with Isobel, s-she wants everyone in the courtyard for a-a meeting as soon as possible!"

 

Edited by ElfCollaborator
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15 minutes ago, ElfCollaborator said:

 

Sachi Honda

Sachi sets foot into the armory, looking around for her group, announcing her purpose at the top of her very light and small voice.

"U-uh....if y-you're with Isobel, s-she wants everyone in the courtyard for a-a meeting as soon as possible!"

 

 

Soryn Éclaire

Soryn's ears perked up, as he tried to locate the source of the tiny voice. He did not know who Isobel was, but if things were finally going to be explained, he would attend immediately.

"You there, small one. Judging from your attire, you are not from here, correct? I want you to answer my questions," he said in a demanding tone. His cape fluttered behind him, as he swiftly moved towards her. He paused, and added "If you please."

 

He had forgotten that wherever he was, was not his domain, and may not even be his world. If that was the case, then his titles and prestige would be meaningless here.

 

"Just... where are we?" he asked in a softer tone. "I had boarded your.... castle previously, after being unwillingly brought to a place I do not recognize. I demand that- that is, I mean to say, could you explain how it is I was brought here, without my knowing?"

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Sachi Honda

Sachi is clearly unnerved by the large, imposing man approaching her, most likely because he also dwarfs her by a significant amount. Still, she doesn't shy away too far.

"H-huh? I don't really....k-know the answer to that. I-I kinda got dragged here too, r-really. I'm just h-here to grab people for a m-meeting...."

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Soryn Éclaire
'
What do you mean you don't know the answer to that," the words tersely repeating inside his head, as his patience began to wore thin. Thankfully he had refrained from bursting his thoughts out loud.

 

"Walk with me then, we shall go to this 'meeting'," he took a deep breath to calm himself, and then decided to rephrase his question. He wanted to test his theory that they were indeed not in the same world, for he could not identify their surroundings to match anything in his knowledge. "So allow me to reiterate: the group we are travelling with were brought here from, correct me if I am wrong, different worlds and no one knows why? Are you not concerned with this?"

 

Soryn has left the Armory and will reappear in the Courtyard

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Mitsurugi shook her head. "It's. . . No. Nothing happened. Just a conversation that I did not like." Mitsurugi wasn't usually much for extended speech, but her words were unusual. Terse, clipped; an expression of obvious discomfort that the Japanese woman would normally never allow onto her face. She sighed. "I'll return to the courtyard in a moment." It didn't surprise her that it was proving to be impossible to be alone even for a moment, even as it frustrated her. 

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Jade let out an annoyed sigh. Now wasn't the best time to be dragged off somewhere but what can you do? He turned his attention back to Mitsurugi, "Alright Lass, I can sense you ain't in the best mood right now. So I'll keep it short. I can leave right now, join the others, let you do you, or..." Jade pulled out a sealed wine bottle he had been carrying with him. He never did have a chance to store it away at the castle before being thrown into this place and it somehow survived this ordeal. "We could have that drink I offered a while back. It's up to, I'm fine either way." 

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Venus

 

 “Fortunate you are, perhaps, in that regard.” Venus nodded, as he retrieved an item from beneath the chest area of his cloak, a distinct clinking sound resounding faintly as he removed the ruby accessory. It was of a rare, polished ore, its surface, etched into that of a rose, glistening in the light of the room. Holding his gaze on the item for several moments, he felt a twinge of melancholy surge within him as he recollected the sentiments that came with what he held in his hand. 

 

“Even living with my family's gluttonous ways, and despite the approval I could garner not from them, there was the faintest light amidst those dark days even under the spotlight, light that was more than enough to illuminate beyond my performances in my otherwise hallowed world. Cliche as it may sound, perhaps fate is the only answer to how I met her. Never did I imagine romance to enter my life in my career of acting. She was a new dancer in my ranks, at a glance naught but just a pretty face until we interacted more, and soonest enough she became the finest star in my performances. We sought to beautify all in that we did, in our life or serving and entertainment, in the bed of roses we lived and were to relive again and again. That was our life and vow, the faintest, happiest moments in my life that had ensued. Yet even despite our glory in the theater we sought respite from our families. I was the finest star of the finest town, and she, a mere performer. To even allow our union would be the joke of the town -- the disgrace of the Tireur family, something my parents would not think twice to reject. But I didn't care. We had an elopement planned, for whence our time on the spotlight would be over, and us together at last, free from the shackles of society and my family. Or so I'd thought."

 

 “I was to give this to her that night,” He continued, “I was ready for an eternity with her, even if it meant running away, even if it meant throwing away all I had earned and possessed. But she never came, and when I lost too long – well, several hours of contact – with her, I knew something was amiss. I searched endlessly, across the halls, the opera houses, many another hour I searched, until I found her dead – my angel, lying within one of the old opera houses, her purity stolen, her form bathed in blood, her expression unreadable. I didn’t need to think of her murderers, the perpetrators, or why anyone would want such an angel of a person dead…who else would benefit better from her death? Who else would have seen her as a threat to the source of their wealth and fame that they had maintained for so long, like the finest but most poisonous wine drowning the drinker in its taste?”

 

It was the last straw for the artist, as it would come. With his beloved’s death the faintest shred of reverence and love for his family existed no more. He remembered waiting, sparing not his parents, his brothers, nor even his young, innocent sister, as one by one he drove bullets down their heads soundlessly in their sleep, staining their individual beds with their sanguine. And the grief he had bore as a result of his greatest loss, his failure to protect her, and be with her. 

 

“My family lived to take all from me but never give, and they took her. They took more than they could claim from me. I did not hesitate to kill them back then – but then I learnt that they themselves did not commit the deed. To this day I am in search of her killers still, which delved me deeper into the darker shades of society -- the political undergrounds, the illegal trades, the black society. It was there I scavenged and searched, the finest assassins, the dirtiest of the dirty, the richest of the rich, scum of which were worse than even that of my...former family, even at a glance. It was then I realized that to find whomever murdered my love, I would have to do what I did on the stage as well -- I strove to be the finest in acting. So I began working in the dark society an assassin for hire, where I learnt of weaponry, smithing, and many other aspects of the underground community. But even as I drew closer to finding the ones that had killed my beloved, I was unsatisfied. I lived in a world of responsibility and not passion, and I knew that something had been lost, almost irredeemably so...

 

"You see, the day my family perished under my hand, I had realized that I had once broken my promise to my dear. I had vowed to only beautify with my work even with without her presence, and the death I had dealt firsthand was....unprepossessing. So unappealing. Nor did my love leave this world as beautifully as she had desired," His teeth clenched and his skin prickled from the memory of his lover's death, as he retreated the ruby rose back into his cloak. "The stark truth burnt into me then -- death is ugly, no matter how it would come to befall a person, be it of the wrinkling state of old age or the repugnance of murder and blood. But who had said it had to be ugly? What if there was a way that, even in the vile, inevitable, gruesome state of death, something wondrous could be found in its wake?" His words were followed by a sudden chuckling that grew fiercer as it continued, and one could notice the artist's expression darken into a gaze, bearing an insanity strong enough for one to imagine the mouth twisted in an equally mad smile. 

 

"Many have asked why I wield this idiosyncratic paintbrush in hand," He said, addressing the weapon he had hidden in his cloak, taking care not to remove it as to not excessively intimidate her, his tone rising amidst his stupor. "Signature to my own craft and that of no one else. Why fuss, people have asked? Why kill with such expense? Such fastidiousness? Why care for what the corpse entails as long as the life leaves the body?Some think of killing a pastime. Others consider it dirty work. Some see it a sport -- I, on the other hand, see it an art. And art it is indeed with every bullet it fires, delivering a demise far greater than any gun or weapon could deal. Every body a canvas, the bullet its paint, and my dear Whisper its paintbrush. It took long to refine a weapon such as this, and again I found myself truly performing. I kill to appease as much as to serve, much like I did on my stage...and eventually, my finest performance when I finally find whomever had killed her...!" Unable to hold in his emotions upon illustrating too much of his story, the chuckling grew to a more ominous laughter, not knowing when it would cease...

 

Even in the shadows dealing death, Venus had sought to uphold his promise to his beloved -- and in his own twisted, meticulous way, he entertained both the people above and below, spreading beauty in his acting and in his killing. 

 

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Mitsurugi

 

There was a moment of silence as the goddess considered the man's offer. This place was hardly suited for one to relax and enjoy oneself - particularly when they were in the midst of a war - but. . . "Let us find a place to sit, at least. Anything of importance will be reiterated." Truth be told, she would rather not miss a briefing and was completely aware of how important such a thing really was to attend, but she would be useless if she couldn't get herself under control. 

 

Hiroki

 

The girl slowly backed away from the artist as he burst into a fit of laughter. The man made her legitimately fear for her life, even if she hadn't done anything to set him off personally. Willing to murder his entire family over the suspicion they'd had something to do with his girlfriend's murder? Venus was a bit offputting, but apparently her unease had been well founded. She mumbled something mostly unintelligible about heading out to the courtyard, and then very nearly ran in that direction, brushing past Jade and Mitsurugi on her way out. Hiroki leaves the Armory.

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"Aye," Jade nodded his head in agreement. He was pleased, he didn't want to leave her in such a sour mood. "Let's try and find a place far away from the mad man laughing over there." Jade whispered softly, before taking two chairs and moving them to the opposite corner of them room. Grabbing one of the smaller knives within the armory Jade stabs it into the cork of the bottle at angle, using the blade to twist it out. He places the bottle within Mitsurugi's hands before sitting down. "Alright Lass, whats been on your mind? Something happen?"

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Mitsurugi sat, and took a long draught - probably more than was strictly healthy, but seeing as she didn't follow the rules of normal people, was probably ok - and handed the bottle back to Jade before responding. She opened her mouth to speak, but uncharacteristically, no sound came out. She closed it, took a deep breath, and tried again to no avail. The facade cracked; a tear ran down her face. And two, and three, and then it shattered entirely. The goddess started outright bawling, with a halfhearted attempt to cover it with one voluminous sleeve. "I just. . . Everyone . . . I couldn't. . ."

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Jade was surprised at how much Mitsu chugged down in on sitting. Things were probably worse than he first thought. He took a sip from the bottle before she started bursting into tears. Jade was shocked seeing her like this, "What the hell did the others do to get her like this?" He thought angrily. It was one thing to get someone mad or in a sour mood, but to push someone to this is despicable. "Or maybe it's another situation like with Gary."  

 

"It's alright lass, just calm down." He paused for a moment to give her some time to let it out. "Now what happened with everyone to get you like this?"

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It took several moments of Mitsurugi more of less blubbering incoherently for her to settle down enough to actually get a coherent response out to Jade. She stopped for a moment to breathe and wipe at her face. "The others did nothing wrong," she said finally, with a sniffle at the end. "It's just. . . Everything they say reminds me of my world. Of my failure." The goddess put her head in her hands and started to sob again. "They all died because I wasn't strong enough. . ."

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Jade kept silent for a moment before taking another sip from the bottle. He probably shouldn't have assumed that is was someone's fault, everyone here seemed like decent people. Well most people here anyways. "So bad memories huh? I won't pry then, I have some skeletons in the closet myself. I don't know the details myself but I'm sure you did your best. No one's a miracle worker. No one person, god or entity can save everyone, Lass, I know from experience." He held out the bottle towards her, offering her to take another swing if she wanted.

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Mitsurugi shakes her head, wiping at her face again - her sleeves were starting to become noticeably damp. "I am sorry, but you don't understand. I am a goddess of storms and other calamities, yes. But I am also a guardian spirit. For generations and generations of humans, they asked me to keep them safe from foreign threats, and I did. I watched lineages rise and fall and guided some of them myself. Some of them even carried by blood. And when they needed a guardian more than anyone else, when all of them were imperiled at once. . . I wasn't enough. They put their faith into me, even people who had sworn enmity and claimed me to be a demon, and even with all of that power I couldn't fight our foes off." Her tone took a sharp turn toward bitterness. "I don't even know why I continue to claim the title of a guardian deity. I'm certainly not a very good one."

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