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Hidden 3 days ago Post by Rune_Alchemist
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Rune_Alchemist Absolute Depravity

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Cogfell City
10.000 hours

Sirens blared, filling every home, business, and street with its cacophonous blares. This, was not something most people were familiar with, but was something the citizens all had been warned of during the war five years ago. A loud, resolute sound that the city was under attack. Several years ago, though, they had been on the lookout for Kyrsa warships, sailing high above the the city. Now though? No, the enemy was already here.


"Damn it!" She hefted her rifle, three quick shots rang out, each expertly finding their mark. She ran, huffing, nearly out of breath as her legs carried her towards the sound of fighting. She had to meet up with the others. It was just their luck the moment they had found the culprits they were looking for, would be right when they had finished their little ritual! If that wasn't all, it was much, much worse then what they had been told.

Thankfully the local police had been informed of their operation, and had already been given evac orders and to help evacuate the citizenry.

She briefly glanced at the corpse of a kid, no older than fifteen.

"A-ah field captain!" She breathed a sigh of relief, seeing the familiar uniform of violet garden. "Oh goody, am I ever glad to see you, eheh! Jeez, you'd never believe how hard it was to find you after we all got scattered!"

"Where are the others?" She asked the girl in front of her.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about them. We managed to regroup not far from here. I was asked to bring you back."

She blinked. Relief turned to tension again. Grip tightened on her gun.

"...I'm sorry, but I don't quite think I remember your name."

The Clematis
12.000 hours
@Sniblet@Waylon@Pyromania99@VitaVitaAR@Click This@AzureKnight

The dull hum of an engine in the background. Laughter as the residents in the ship enjoyed some leisurely time before they arrived at their destination. It was the sort of leisure someone on a ship, marching into a warzone, would be enjoying. Despite the joviality, tension and anticipation was palpable. Some of the maids contented themselves with training, keeping their minds sharp on the top decks training area. Some were cleaning, cooking, or otherwise just relaxing as the ship flew to its destination while the ships usual crew kept the ship on course.

It was late morning now, almost the middle of the day. They had been alerted to an incident involving a large scale demon summoning in a small city only a few hours ago. It was impressive they were able to scramble everyone together so fast. Heh, still could use some improvement, though.

“Smell that, Bernadette?”

“...drinking on the job is frowned upon.”

“Ahahaha! No, not that little tinker!” The Krysa laughed jovially. “The smell of it! The ash, the smoke…ah, I can smell it from here. That town’s been turned into a warzone.”

“...you can smell that from here?”

“You been in the frontlines long enough you get a nose for this thing.” Leoniya replied with a chuckle. She’d fold her arms across her chest, gazing at the ground far below them. She could already see it in the distance. Pillars of smoke, rising from the ground. Buildings, fractured and destroyed from here. One could hear the gunshots already, too, if they listened.

“Sounds like someone’s eager to wet their blade.” Behind the two, a rather imposing woman approached, grabbing the Krysa by the shoulder and placing a hand on Bernadette’s hand. “Or blowing them to smithereens in your case.” She’d release them and walk over to the ships railing. “She’s right though, brat. Whatever’s going on down there its…heh, particularly vicious.”

“Are we starting?” Bernadette frowned.

“That we are! Leoniya, be a dear and go tell everyone to gather. Bernie, you go and…do whatever it is you do.”

Seconds later, the Krysa’s voice would blare over the ships intercom, her thick accent easily catching everyones attention.

“Vnimaniye! All maids report to the deck at once! Povtoreniye! All Maids report to the deck at once for mission briefing!”
Hidden 2 days ago 2 days ago Post by Waylon
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Eleanor sighed deeply as she regarded her reflection yet again. Thankfully the berthing which she and the other girls shared had a few full-length mirrors instead of just one, for she painfully took her time to make sure not a single part of her uniform was out of place. This was to be her first day on the job – actually, the second first day on the job in her life so far as a freshly-minted burgher.

Of all the getups Eleanor vividly envisioned herself wearing ever since she developed a sense of fashion, a maid outfit was not one of them. She wasn't one of those maid café waitresses, nor did she want to be one even though they looked quite pretty and elegant as they went about their business in the themed establishments that peppered their dining and entertainment district. She was a line cook, an aspiring chef even, and thus she was of the conviction that she excelled in the kitchen preparing plats du jour and all manner of confections no matter how complicated or exotic – yes, even her dreaded namesake the cookie, if she absolutely had to – and not in the dining hall serving said dishes and confections with the cutesy flourishes that commanded hefty tips and continued patronage. And if not the iconic white double-breasted jacket of a chef, she would rather look smart and respectable in a dress uniform like the kind she saw on officers who dined in her tavern back in the country as well as some of the Chez Bois-Joli regulars garrisoned in the city.

And now here she was, about to do some actual soldiering. Dressed like the help of some upper-crust manor, no less. What would Grandma say?

What her dear grandmother might comment on her sartorial, not to mention occupational, predicament was neither here nor there. Rather, the more pressing concern was whether she looked impeccable enough to pass the inevitable inspection that was to come in a few moments' time. Shortly after her acceptance as a Violet Garden recruit, Eleanor was led to a massive closet decked with a diversity of styles and colors, from the frumpily traditional to the titillatingly risqué. The one thing they all had in common was that an attractive young woman dressed in any combination of those articles of clothing (it goes without saying that they have to go well with one another) can be said to at least look like a genuine maid, if she wasn't actually working as one herself.

One piece of fashion advice that stayed with Eleanor even though she couldn't for the life of her remember where she read it was to “start with the shoes and work your way up.” And so she did, starting with a sturdy pair of black Mary Jane flats – to her the closest thing to the boyish but comfy and practical derbies that she wore as a cook – which she later polished to a mirror shine, and in lieu of socks and trousers were black nylon leggings that fit snugly around her feet and legs. She then picked out a simple black dress with a rounded flat collar, short, slightly puffy sleeves, and a skirt ending just above her knees. Instead of the aprons that she was used to, she decided that for a change she would wear a crisp white pinafore that had very short frills for sleeves and at the sides had pockets and two strips of cloth that she would tie into a bow at her back.

Shoes and clothes weren't the only things in the closet, however. On the far end was a rack that carried an assortment of ebony-handled feather dusters, as well as a practice dummy. An arrangement she felt to be strange at first, until she picked up a duster and found that the handle was made of hardwood. Out of curiosity, Eleanor gave the dummy a couple of resounding whacks.

The dusters double as batons!

Not that she knew how to use such a weapon, perhaps the simplest she and the others were expected to wield, but she surmised that they were to have them on their persons at all times as a sidearm of sorts.

That same feather duster now rested nearby on her bed in the berthing as she studied her reflection one last time to adjust the frilly white headdress on her bunned hair and then her white cook's neckerchief, which she wore in place of a tie and onto which she fastened a brooch bearing the Violet Garden crest.

“Time to get to work,” Eleanor said silently as she clasped the duster to her waist and joined the others making their way to the deck.
Hidden 2 days ago 2 days ago Post by Sniblet
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Sniblet drinking problem

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Astreya has been in the engine room. Mainly because it was hard to keep her out - she really wasn't allowed in here. She's been spending her time crouched over for a close hands-off inspection of the machinery, interrupted by occasional barks from the ship staff whenever they suspect she's acting too "Krysa-y." Really, one of the staff came over and told her off for acting too Krysa-y. She must've got embarrassed about that term, because she only used it once, and just called Astreya's curiosity about the engine suspicious from then on.

Her ears perk up at the sound of her own language from the intercom. She'd kind of been expecting to be alone here.
"Great," says miss Krysa-y. "Rat! You've gotta go!"
"Yeah, I know," says Astreya. "One more minute."
The staff exchange looks. Better not warn her about being late. Best-case, maybe she gets thrown overboard and they never have to deal with her again.

Astreya spends a little bit longer bent at the knees and staring silently at a compressor, cupping her chin between her fingers. She's pretty sure she recognizes this design, and it's a design that sucks. Is this an oversight? A cost-saving measure? Do humans really not have anything better? She wishes she could peel this open and be sure that it's as bad as it looks, but she can hardly do that while it's running. From an outside perspective, to those not engaged in her technical review of the airship, the sight of this giant ratwoman in a fluffy maid dress staring at their engine like a crossword puzzle might be comical.

It's less comical when she rises and straightens to her full height again. Depending on the viewer's recent experiences, it might be genuinely frightening, despite the dress, to meet a (mostly) fully-grown Krysa female's eyes from on high. She doesn't mean for it to be.
"All right," she says. "What was it - top deck?"
She is shown the door with pleasure. It shouldn't take long to find her way.
Hidden 1 day ago Post by Click This
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Click This Manchurian Imouto

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Polina Laye
Farisian Maid

Polina regarded the tray of macarons with a critical eye. Bringing the confections to level with her face, she frowned as she found the desserts lacking, the sheen of its coat a notch or two duller than what passed as acceptable to her standards. The galley of the airship, while well-appointed by the standards of what could expect for a craft of its size, could only be so well equipped, especially for a trip on such short notice and she recognized that fact, however much it galled her.

Taking sets of preprepared silken pouches, she emptied the tray of colorful confections into the containers before tying their drawstrings together and carefully placing them into a woven handbasket to later distribute.

For Polina, this was not the first time she would be going into battle. This was something that she always found profoundly ironic, considering her entire raison d’etre for being a maid had been fleeing conflict. It had been almost ten years since that fateful day, though, and she had found her purpose since. She could count herself as a veteran maid, but as a battlemaid, she still had things to learn despite her splendid education. When you lived in a state that didn’t see an inkling of conflict during your entire span of service there, there was only so much experience you could gain outside of special assignments given by your mistress. Fending off suitors and crazies didn’t much count, though she considered it a personal failing that she hadn’t been able to prevent the assassination of the Grand Prince.

She was still apprehensive about her tour of duty with the Violet Garden. It would do her well in treading new ground, and she was ostensibly among friends to learn and rely on. Yet the mutual pact of trust was not yet there, and likely would not ever be there unless circumstances changed. It was a far cry from her experience at home, but that too was why she was here. Depending on what she learned, the two mistresses she now served would either forge a new friendship that was more than just the simple platitudes it was now, or the relationship would be forever lost with a wall firmly in place between mutual reconciliation.

She was a well-rounded maid with a very good set of skills that just wanted to meet new people, but she hated playing the spy. Yet from what her mistress had told her, what was going on in the Maison d’Violette could have wider implications.

Such was the cost of living in interesting times.

In the meantime, though, she would feed her new maidenly comrades sweets and prepare for battle. As the voice of the Kyrsan veteran barked over the intercom, she slung her rifle over her shoulder after taking it up from its place against the wall. Even with a basket of macarons in her hand, she was combat-ready— she always kept her sword openly at her side, as were her more concealed weapons closer to her body.
With a spring in her step, she stepped out onto the deck to hand out her confections—even if she didn’t fully trust everybody yet, she would still feed them sweets and be fed the same in return, ‘accidents’ be damned.
Hidden 1 day ago Post by Pyromania99
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Pyromania99 Double-edged Austerity

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Katherine had been sitting in one of the rooms, carefully looking over all of the dolls that she had brought with her. "One through 4 check. Five through seven in good shape. Number eight... How did you stain your apron like that?" The Firbolg woman clicked her tongue, slightly irritated. "I swear, the next time show me before we get on the ship to come out gods know where. Welp, no harm to it. Hard to even see." The woman patted at the doll's apron to see if it was something that'd just come off but to no avail. "Hmm. Well, we're looking fine now. Now, go lets go ahead and get you all your weapons. We need to be ready for the battle ahead."

Katherine stood and clapped her hands, and the dolls marched to the back of the room grabbing their weapons. Four of them grabbed some nicely crafted halberds, just about the right size for the three foot tall dolls. The other four grabbed four rifles and beltpouches to facilitate using rifles. "Hmm, hmm. Looking in good shape except a stained apron." And it was, perhaps by fortune, just then that a certain heavily accented Krysa came over the intercom.

“Vnimaniye! All maids report to the deck at once! Povtoreniye! All Maids report to the deck at once for mission briefing!”

"Hmmm, hmm. Yes, yes. I figured it was about time, didn't I?" Katherine pondered as she gave a sigh. "Two Halberdiers in front, Rifledolls in the middle and 2 Halberdiers as rear guard." And with that, Katherine lead the small troop. It didn't take too long before the sounds of small, in-step marching dolls making their way to the top of the deck. As Katherine reached the deck, the dolls assumed a single file line and set themselves to the side of the airship deck. "Greetings, one and all. Apologies if I've not shown my face topside much, I wanted to make sure my team was in top shape." The Firbolg said as her tail swished back and forth a bit, obviously a small bit excited to get to fight. She waved at her dolls as thin magical looking threads of magic lightly flashed. "They are, of course. And I'll have them patrol around a small bit."

With that, the dolls broke formation and started to patrol the deck, looking over the side and making sure nothing was sneaking up on then.

"After all, it shall not be long 'til we start our own end of fighting." The Puppeteer Maid checked her own personal weaponry. While her rapier itself wasn't good at fighting bigger monster, she should be fine on that end with the dolls she had backing her up. Her rapier was at it's position on the left side and her pistol on her right. "So, how is our exquisite combat instructor? Doing well, I assume?" The cat smugly smiled at the woman. "As well to you, Bernadetta? And, ummm, Leoniya?" The woman asked. As she introduced herself, one of the dolls patrolling behind the combat instructor gave a soft slap to the butt. The cat had a death wish.

Hidden 1 day ago Post by VitaVitaAR
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VitaVitaAR King of Knights

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It was an opportunity.

They always said no. They never let her.

Even Big Sister said no.

Sure, that one time, that guy had to be hospitalized. Sure, that other time, that lady spent the rest of the day crying and asking why the gods allowed something like this to happen.

But that didn't mean she wouldn't get it right this time.

And even if she didn't...

Well, sometimes it was funny to watch people react to her cooking. When they didn't cry or get sick, the shock and desperate questions about what they just tasted were hilarious.

But that was beside the point.

Senya was sure, this time, she'd make something everyone would love. As long as she had free, unrestricted access to the kitchen. One of the other maids, a human, had been making something that smelled delicious in there. So she had to time it right. She had to make sure she got a moment to slip in after everyone was done.

Then she could work her magic.

Then she'd make something unlike anything anyone on the ship had ever experienced.

At least, that would be one way to describe it, for good or ill(most likely ill).

Lingering near the entrance to the kitchen, Senya idly swept with her broom back and forth. She'd just watch and wait for the human maid to leave, until she had her moment.

The tiny dark elf was watching the kitchen intensely, idly shuffling back and forth in the hall and sweeping up random spots that looked like she could plausibly claim they needed cleaning, when she suddenly heard a familiar voice on the intercom.

Vnimaniye! All maids report to the deck at once! Povtoreniye! All Maids report to the deck at once for mission briefing!”


Her plans, in that instant, were dashed.

On the other hand...

It was not much later when Senya appeared on the deck. She had traded her broom for an entirely different piece of equipment, currently concealed in a leather case that much resembled a piece of luggage, held in both of her small hands as she walked across the deck to join the others.


It was all the expressionless dark elf said as she came to a halt.
Hidden 1 day ago Post by Waylon
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Did she really mean to do that though?

Eleanor caught herself as she was about to comment on the cheeky gesture made by Katherine's doll and decided instead to contemplate the midday sky through the airship's windows. Finding oneself about to be deployed on such short notice without any basic training whatsoever was already plenty of trouble as it is, and Eleanor feared they were all going to get it now - not just the Firbolg. If there's anything the erstwhile line cook knew from experience, it's that speaking out of turn in times like these would only make things much worse.
Hidden 13 hrs ago Post by AzureKnight
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AzureKnight Runic Traveler

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Aboard the Clematis

"Santo Cielo!"

Lucrecia was scrambling to ensure she had everything in order for the coming mission. She nearly threw a profanity filled fit when she thought the local delivery service wouldn’t have her new blades here on time. She was able to help out Mariarca with some last minute paperwork before they had to head out; she wanted to help out her fellow new recruit in the kitchen, what was her name, Polina? Ultimately, she felt that it would be a better use of her time to prep for battle. While Lucrecia was certainly no stranger to combat, she must admit this would be the first time fighting demons. One could even say she was nervous; since they were supernatural entities she at first wasn’t sure if her armaments would be sufficient. According to the combat instructor, though, she said she managed just fine so long as she didn’t ‘fuck it up’. Just to be on the safe side she had Bernadetta look over her weapons and make some adjustments where necessary.

Still, she can’t let the butterflies in her stomach get the better of her, this was her chance to finally shine. After that excretable baron slandered her name, she thought that her career was over. Fear of going hungry on the street, taking on odd jobs just to make ends meet, it all seemed like a far off dream now.

“Vnimaniye! All maids report to the deck at once! Povtoreniye! All Maids report to the deck at once for mission briefing!”

She recognized that thick, unpleasant accent anywhere. No more time for treading through old memories, duty calls!

Taking note that the chambers on her machete handles were fully loaded, she crossed the blades together a bit, making a satisfying clanking sound until she sheathed them. She lifted her skirt to confirm she had a decent stock of ammunition and knives strapped to her thighs. Molto bene! Confident she was fully prepared for today’s tasks, she promptly made her way down to the deck to meet with her veterans and fellow recruits.

– –

Arriving for the mission briefing, she was met by Polina who was handing out some freshly made macarons to all present. How sweet, pun intended. At first she wasn’t sure about eating pastries before a dangerous mission, but since every mission could be one’s last she decided to take up her offer. She also felt that it’d be rude to deny someone’s cooking, especially when they went through so much trouble to make it.

"Grazie, Polina. It smells delicious." She said with a warm smile. She then turned to everyone else on the deck.

"Buongiorno a tutti. Recruit Lucrecia Cruz, present and accounted for." She said as she made an elegant curtsy; the tone of her greeting was both professional and polite.

Her poise was broken somewhat after one of Katherine’s dolls slapped the vet’s backside firmly. She blinked twice and looked at Kath with a ‘what the hell face’. She felt one of their members would bite the dust before the mission even started. She chose to say nothing, thinking it may just make things worse…
Hidden 5 hrs ago 5 hrs ago Post by Waylon
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Silently meeting Lucrecia's gaze, Eleanor gave her a knowing nod. By the looks of it, the maid seemed quite accustomed to doing the bidding of overbearing, often unreasonable, authority figures and therefore understood that the only way forward was to keep a stiff upper lip and just take it during certain moments. By the looks of it, this was going to be one such moment.

Eleanor remained apprehensive, but at least she no longer felt completely alone.

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