CitrusArms

Foxes in SPAAAAAAAACE (Xaltwind and CitrusArms)

Yumeiko stood at the partition into the bed chamber of the other's quarters, hemming and hawing softly to herself while she considered various possibilities. Furniture might have fallen on her, something sharp could have been thrown by an impact - any number of things. After she stood at the door a while and hadn't received an answer, she decided the only thing to do would be to enter and check on her long-term guest.

No, wait, she heard something. It had been too brief and indistinct for her to identify it - had it been a shout? A call for help? "Miyuki? Are you there? I'm coming in."

The spirit fox turned and looked at the room behind her, the utter chaos of it. Was it worse, within? She braced herself, turned back to the partition, and opened it.

Well, it wasn't much worse, inside. The mess changed - instead of large containers that held servings of food, plates and bottles and cups were scattered everywhere. Booze and- oh, no, there were containers in here, too. Carefully, Yumeiko stepped through the clutter, somehow finding the open spaces between the mess to step as she approached the bed.

Wait, it was still all food waste. This was her bedroom, yes? If this was how she treated her rubbish, she would have expected there to be clothing everywhere, too. Maybe she just did her laundry? Yumeiko still didn't smell anything rotten, so the woman either ate all her food or took care of her waste... eventually. It might have been laundry day.

The blond fox woman came to stand next to the bed, looking with an unsure concern at the woman curled up there. "Miyuki? I don't believe we've met, my name is Yumeiko... no Kami." That still felt strange. "We took hits to the shields, I wanted to be sure you're alright. ... Are you sleeping...?" Had this woman slept through the battle, or had she been injured by something (probably from her rubbish) when they'd taken hits? The way she was curled up, blankets and tails tight around her - it could be how she sleeps, or she might have curled in on herself for comfort after the battle. Hard to say.

Foxes in SPAAAAAAAACE (Xaltwind and CitrusArms)

Once, long ago, Yumeiko served a Goddess. An actual Goddess, not the facade she maintained for the sake of offering guidance. Ever since that day, she could no longer feel Inari's presence, or that of any other deity. Without any higher power she could trust, she took it upon herself to bear that mantle.

Which is how she found herself in charge of a populace for hundreds of years. Over the course of those centuries, they found the thing the divine had left behind, to guide them on their path into the future.

At least, that's what she told her people. She believed it, or at least she wanted to. It smelled like them. Like Her.

The sky-blue crystal - it responded to life, to strong desires. Clumsily, they could create with it. Yumeiko found that it responded to her, as well. She could commune with it. With time, she learned to draw sacred power from it, to wield it and speak with the gems that grew from trees. She could use it to create prosperity for her people, and so she did.

Her colony of people met with others who had discovered the same novel resource - but their discoveries had been different. They wore the gems from the trees, and some had with them a mote of light or a thing that looked very much like a fairy that accompanied them.

They called it Aevon, their companions Aeva. Together, they learned and grew and became something greater. Scattered settlements became cities with trade to offer each other. That trade created natural prosperity, and as their needs elevated, the Aeva responded. Mere centuries had passed since the Terran Empire had been ground to dust and forgotten, but already were they raising ships worth of the stars above. Great beasts of crystal and living wood. Metal had been molded around them to form armor, but crystal or wood had to be exposed to properly emit energies.

Yumeiko's shrine-ship was constructed like the shrines of old, interlocking wood forming distinct silhouettes and sliding paper partitions. Around the shrine, a ship had been formed. The Aevon already worked into the bones of the shrine melded easily with the new vessel to carry it, and together with the First Fleet of Gaia, they rose to space to face the threat the Aeva felt waiting.

They were greeted in orbit by a mass of Scourge. They fought, and won, though it had not been lossless. Already, Yumeiko could feel the tree at the center of her shrine-ship gathering the souls of the dead.

The battle was over. Their ship had taken hits to the shielding - they held, but the impact had been rough. The blond fox woman felt it her responsibility to check on her... "guest".

Yumeiko's eyes slowly drifted across the quarters aboard her shrine-ship she had dedicated to the woman in question. She was the sort to keep to herself, which was fine. It was not a problem to care for a body or two - their resources were enough to sustain everyone. She had at least learned the woman's name - Miyuki. If the duration of her stay with Yumeiko's people gave any indication, the woman was an entity not unlike herself, so there was plentiful reason to give her space if she wanted it.

Indeed, Yumeiko had come to see if her guest was alright. Yet what was the state of this place? While she could see some things had been jostled, knocked over across the impacts, she found that a difficult explanation to swallow for the level of mess she beheld. Not just a mess - rubbish! Left about in her shrine! It would have been one thing if it were some eccentric collection of pointless statuettes or posable figurines, but these containers were meant to be recycled, not hoarded!

The spirit fox had forgone a retinue, which she counted as a good decision. She wouldn't subject anyone to this. At least there didn't seem to be anything rotten. The blond stepped carefully through the rubbish and other miscellaneous items, following her senses to find the woman she now needed to confront, and not just check on.

Once she stood at the other side of the door, Yumeiko called through the partition into Miyuki's chamber, "Miyuki? Are you alright?"

Foxes in SPAAAAAAAACE (Xaltwind and CitrusArms)

It's Yumeiko!

Foxes in SPAAAAAAAACE (Xaltwind and CitrusArms)

Hey @Xaltwind. Here's a brief overview of the things you need to know about the surroundings before we get deep into it. We may have some things to hammer out before we begin, as well - ask me questions <3

This RP will be taking place in a post-apocalyptic galaxy that is at least half a millennium past the apocalypse. Long enough people don't really remember it, might think of it as legend. They don't remember what Jump Drives used to do, they only know how you can hook them up to do things they're not supposed to do. The knowledge that they used to do something different could even be lost in places.

Things in disconnected places have had a chance to become normal. In most places, the old order fell. Galactic nations no longer had the means to enforce their will in any meaningful timeframe on anything beyond their immediate system. Old colonies became their own, independent worlds, for better or worse. Some had to adapt quickly to being cut off from galactic supply lines, while other systems had the good fortune of being self-sufficient.

The Gaian Solidarity is the civilization that eventually rises from the ashes of the Terran Empire after they got their ass kicked in the apocalypse. They have a plentiful supply of a material they call Aevon, which is a sky-blue crystal with energetic properties and a response to life and vital power. Trees that root into Aevon produce Core Gems, but those will be more important later. Just know that people can wear them to eventually give form to a fairy-like entity known as an Aeva, Aeva are pretty good at magic, and that magic comes from the bond formed between Aeva and Bonded (still need to come up with a good name for that). I have a particular thought about how this will play into our ladies.

We will be in space, doing space things.

Yumeiko and Miyuki will be based out of the Terraship, an entire island that the Gaian Solidarity lifted from a planet to serve as a mobile base for their Reclamation Fleet. At the center of the island is a massive Soul Tree, not unlike the much smaller one that serves as the nervous system for their shrine-ship. The Terraship and her fleet are responsible for working the old Terran Empire space - clearing out feral Scourge (the army of the apocalypse), checking out old derelicts, establishing contact with surviving colonies, and recolonizing those that did not and any other habitable planets.

Yumeiko and Miyuki will be taking care of the Scourge and derelicts. Expect a mix of exploration, mystery, occasional horror aboard abandoned stations and ships, some action, and plenty of quieter downtime aboard the fleet between missions.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Intelligence Officer

Lieutenant James Clearwell

Time: 10th Ignis, Evening
Location: Castle Ballroom - Starry Night Ball
Attire: Formal Attire
Accent: Sorian Merchant Quarter
Interactions: Marina @princess, Sylvia @AuthenticTomb
Mentions: Ranya @Tae, Askel @Remram

The slam of her turkey leg onto her plate marked a change in his thoughts.

Oh no. He’d gone looking for a co-conspirator and found a crusader, and it was too late to change course.

At least she hadn’t charged off immediately, though her theatrics made him question what he’d just done. His eyes briefly followed the fork down to her thigh before averting sharply, appalled. Why was she holstering a fork? He just hoped no one saw him seeing that.

Those eyes drew back to Marina as she mentioned evil. She sounded like the Captain when they would go hunting.

It had just become rather difficult to make like they weren’t talking, but maybe that act wasn’t meant to last. He turned toward her with a healthy balance of food on his plate. He’d eat lightly while she spoke, lightly enough he could quickly swallow and speak at any moment.

“And by casual and innocent, I mean we are going to find out who the fuck dares.”

Marina’s temper was choosing her tactics. He spoke with a conversational tone, “your first instinct was the better one,” but his eyes were more cautious. Perhaps being royalty gave her leverage to be so bold.

Being bold here could fan the flames, and the Captain’s love of making things very difficult had made sure there was plenty of tinder laying everywhere.

“And I know just the girl who can help us…”

”We should-”

"Ooooh, who is it? You have to tell me, Marnie!”

“.. stick to casual and innocent.” James shifted his attention to the second princess, dissatisfied with the yet-higher profile he’d just gained.

"I don't know what kind of relationship advice I can offer. I think it is too soon for you both."

James smiled kindly, almost apologetically, “oh, humble me? No, no,” he waved gently with one hand, “I’m just a squire, doing his good deeds for the evening.”

He needed to brief them both. Quickly, quietly. In a room full of people - socialites, even.

“Come closer, won’t you? I have a story exclusively for Varian princesses.” The nature of his smile changed only slightly, gaining confidence, losing the apology.

He’d let them gather closer before he’d begin,

“Following the Grand Vizier’s announcement surrounding the,” a quick glance at the dance floor, “apparent courtship of Shehzadi Ranya and Prince Askel, I heard rumors focused on the speed of their relationship, Shehzadi Ranya’s innocence, and Prince Askel’s,” he paused, considering how to phrase it that wouldn’t cause Princess Marina to shoot off, “restraint around women. Steady, now.” His head and eyes shifted toward Marina, but he did not look directly at her. His eyes shifted back to his plate and he picked a small morsel, allowing the Princesses a moment to absorb what he’d said in a graceful manner.

It was something Captain Durmand said when anxious men needed to be held to the line, though he’d softened the delivery for his situation.

“The rumors have been spreading quickly. Too quickly. As though, perhaps, it’s all someone can talk about.”

James gave a low, slow sigh as he chewed another small morsel, considering how this connected to him and the interest he was representing. “I should tell you, I’ve my own reason for doing this. The Captain and,” he hesitated, censoring Askel’s name, “your subject of interest were seen together a little more than a week ago, for some time. Had a spar, went to lunch. They seemed friendly - not like that, but it’s ready fuel; with collateral. And,” James sighed, again, “the Captain appreciates hard work. Openly. With her eyes.” How did he get here again?

James took the time to take a breath, “I can’t point any fingers, yet, but I can tell you the rumors were shaped to attack purity as foolishness. I can only imagine a sibling might get protective,” a short, sharp inhale marked a thought, his eyes widened slightly, “perhaps even react. There may well be a messenger at work.”

“The rumor is already alive within the room. The messenger should be bringing the worst version to the most volatile ea-” James cut himself off while his eyes lifted, then flicked between the two princesses related to someone involved in the rumor. “Ears.”

What did he just do?

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Intelligence Officer

Lieutenant James Clearwell

Time: 10th Ignis, Evening
Location: Castle Ballroom - Starry Night Ball
Attire: Formal Attire
Accent: Sorian Merchant Quarter
Interactions: Marina @princess
Mentions: Victoria, Nolan @Remram, Count Calbert, Duke Vikena, Stratya [@me]

That was about all he could sensibly do, to attempt to counteract Victoria’s rumor mill, at least without drawing attention to himself. James made off to get more food, finding himself conveniently famished for more of the royal buffet.

He scanned the ballroom casually as he moved, spotting the important figures.

Duke Vikena and Count Damien. Duke Vikena looked about as ready to make a scene as ever. A lady fled the ballroom, followed by a lord.

Captain Durmand looked concerned. He followed her gaze and found the woman with the hood again. Did the hood mean something to her he was not aware of? Duchess Victoria had moved to the space near the hooded woman and the very tall Alidasht man - was he related to Shehzadi Ranya? Why else would Duchess Edwards move to speak to him, in the middle of her rumor game?

As he approached one of the tables, he saw a familiar figure minus a more familiar figure; Princess Marina, sans Nolan.

James slid up next to the Princess, casual but close. “Princess Marina. You’ve been getting along with my friend, I see. Good. I’m happy to see him making more friends.” He didn’t look up from picking his food, speaking with a tone that might have been him speaking to himself. Soft, difficult to hear for someone further away.

“I come to you in the interest of our good Captain. Yes?” He gave her a moment to understand what he meant, his tone plain and sincere. “Distasteful rumors regarding your brother and his new acquaintance have been spreading. I’ve done what I can to control the damage before it spreads or twists.” He examined a morsel from the buffet and popped it into his mouth. He tasted it, approved, and grabbed more.

No names. That could lay tinder.

He should not implicate Victoria without proof of what she was doing. “Her Excellence seemed particularly concerned with the,” his head turned just slightly, to give direction to the woman the Captain had been concerned with, “hooded woman, just over there, near what I assume to be the rumor mill.”

“Aah, but a squire can only do so much.”

Pokemon Singularity

Regan Calhoun

Inventory

GP: 6000
Items: Potion x1, Pokeball x9, [E] Ranger Cap, Rotom Phone

Roster

#1, Kaebe

Tyrunt ♂, Lv 5
Moves: Tackle, Tail Whip, Roar, Dragon Dance
Ability: Strong Jaw

#2, Magnemite (guest?)

A, Lv 4
Moves: Tackle, Thundershock, Supersonic

PC

Empty

@Remram@Xaltwind

Hm? Stillness? Was this blond girl an opossom? Regan looked the other girl over once - no, no injuries. She wasn’t used to being grabbed, was she?

No, actually, not used to being grabbed. If all the sudden wriggling was any indication, however, Evelyn was fine. “Aah, haha–,” Regan’s laugh was cut off as she received a stray arm to the side of the head, “–ow, watch it!”

That hurt! Reflexes took over as Regan’s hand from Evelyn’s shoulder shot up to catch the next wrist, before her arm came down and around Evelyn’s body, pinning her other arm to her while her wrist was restrained. The hand at her waist had become firmer, more martial and less flirtatious.

“Oh.” Evelyn had asked to be let go; tension went from her stance as a blush touched her cheeks, “ah – right, sorry, uhm – no more elbows, please.” Regan’s eyes turned with a gentle caution to meet Evelyn’s as she loosened her grip, carefully letting the girl go as though a sudden release might cause her to start flailing again. The girl wasn’t very strong, but a wild swing to the head could still hurt.

She lifted her hands away and held them up before taking a small step or two away. It was more like she was watching a precarious pile to see that it wouldn’t fall over than it was like she was yielding. Satisfied, she stood then, confidence in her stance, “so. What’s a pretty girl doin’ in a busy place like this?”

She, ah, should introduce herself. Evelyn didn’t seem like she would remember much at the moment. “Mm, I’m Regan. Remember me from the lab? Evelyn, right?” Her hand lifted in a kind little wave before her eyes drifted away from Evelyn and over the busy surroundings. “Who’s the loud guy, anyway?” Her gaze returned warm with a gentle, crooked smile.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Flashback

1719, Spring or Summer, Rural Vermilion

Little Sunny Gwendolyn

Dohmnall Durmand sat outside his home in the rural reaches of Vermilion, the prized family dirk lying in his lap as he sat on the lush grass, facing where the horizon prepared for the sun. Soft rays of light just kissed the undersides of the clouds that dotted the sky above. Behind him, behind his home, the forest shrouded the lake and horizon beyond, but before him, meadows and plains swayed beneath the winds. Worked fields dotted the sight on gentle, wide hills rolling into the distance.

For a little while now, he’d been telling his daughter to rise before the sun. It was important that she bring herself out of bed. As he was beginning to wonder if he would have to send someone in to help him in this matter, he heard the door behind him. That must be her.

The little girl yawned as she stepped from the house, rubbing her eyes at the horizon that hadn’t even revealed the sun yet. She approached her father, grumbling softly, “Ye wanted me out this earrly?”

“Therre y’ arre, Gwen.” He couldn’t help but smile about this precious girl of his. She could hear him trying to be stern and failing.

She gave a sheepish giggle, “hehe, sorry. it’s been about a week or so, hasn’t it?,” since he started asking her to get up early. When he pat the ground next to him, she stared for just a moment before approaching with sleepy steps to have a seat next to him.

“Isn’ i’ beau’iful?” Dohmnall breathed deeply of the crisp, morning air, gazing out at the sprawling landscape, yet dim before the sun would rise. Then, the warmth of the Sun kissed his forehead, “ah. Be sure tae close y’rr eyes, as y’ feel th’ warrmth,” and he did so.

Gwen – Little Stratya, age 6, not even halfway to her nameday yet – watched him for a moment, watched her father as the light crept down over his forehead, his face, down his neck. Groggily, she remembered she was supposed to do the same thing, and the little girl turned toward the sun. She settled in like he was, closing her eyes when she felt toasty warmth like fresh bread creeping down from the top of her head. Together they sat as light spread over them from head to toe.

From the front, at least. After a moment or two of sitting facing the sun, the lass pitched back and rolled across her hips to turn around and have the sun warm her back, too. Her father looked when he heard the movement, and had himself a laugh. Yes, she had a point, didn’t she. Your back could get cold, if you did it improperly.

“We’ll have another go at it tomorrow. When ye no longer have tae turn around, it’s well in your ken.”

A few chores and a meal later and that was, apparently, the day’s training. She’d spend the rest of the early morning with her mother before going off to either dabble in another trade or find where the other kids were going for the day.

The next day, when she joined him, he spoke as the light traveled across him, “Zivitas, The Life-Fatherr, gave us the Sun that life migh’ grrow, that we migh’ see and be warrmed. The ligh’ he gave us was sae powerrful that Zivitas had tae send the grreat spherre o’ light and firre he made farr away, ferr it would blind and burrn us if nae.” Dohmnall was not doing the meditation, despite sitting with her.

“Is tha’ why we need such carre, Pa?”

Dohmnall smiled for how clever his first-born was, “aye, just so. We sit here so, in the earrliest light, that we might sup ever so gently frrom the grreat power he made for us. You feel it, don’t you?”

Little Gwen thought for a moment, looking down at her wiggling toes, “a wee bit.”

“Ye’ll get it. Nowt’s beyond yerr ken, my darling lass.”

This day would have a little more training than the last. For the moment, however, the girl looked up at her father and smiled at the confidence he had in her, before her gaze swept out over the fields in front of them. The sunlight spread over the fields and she watched for the words her father said were true.

---

1737, Rural Vermilion, Encia territory

Fury

Trigger: Brutality, coercive magic, implied sexual violence

Dohmnall’s eyes widened as the touch of the family dirk let him hear enough to warn his daughter before his wound took the life from him.

“He will.. Command ye…” That was all he could manage, and that was all she would need.

When the voice entered her mind, she knew what it was. She knew who it was.

Obey me.

Her body only began to turn on its own before she understood what had happened; what Maximilian had done.

One step. One step was all he could take from her body before she stopped. Her muscles seized as they fought each other. The brilliant, rich gold shine of her eyes signaled the full maddening weight of Fury coursing through her.

I will kill you.

The Fury lifted the foreign weight from her mind with its forceful presence.

Then she was sprinting, charging the isolated manor they had planned the night around. With a great leap, Stratya Durmand kicked down the heavy oak door to the entry hall, her body like the bolt from a ballista as she drew her knives.

One man lay crushed beneath the door ripped from its hinges, reduced to a red smear and a limb or two sticking out from underneath. A knife flew from her hand and embedded in the skull of an archer taking aim ahead of her. Her body chased and plucked it from the still body as she ran past.

At the top of the entry stairs, her momentum carried her briefly into the air when she collided with the next archer as terror drove him back.

She wrested the bow from him and tore the quiver from his body before she crushed his skull under her heel, turned, and shot another archer aiming at her. At the door, Gale and the rest of the squad were entering.

She and her father had never reached them. They must have heard the door break down.

One of the squad shot yet another archer on the second floor balcony, but not before he loosed an arrow into Stratya’s shoulder. A short cry of pain, and she ripped it out. Fury closed the wound and bound the muscle back together.

The doors to the second-floor main hall kicked open, hinges straining to hold. Maximilian had transformed the second floor chamber for ritual. Candles flickered in steady arrangement, traitors rose from ceremonious seats around the caster in the center.

Duncan Lancaster, Heir to the Barony, came forward, drawing steel. He sought to outmaneuver her, but she caught his sword in the guard of her parrying dagger and pushed the tip over his shoulder. His own blade bit into him, and was driven down until his limp body fell away from her.

The traitors in the room began to attempt to flee, only for the first of them to reach the door to fall forward and die, the parrying dagger in his back. Stratya picked up the longsword Duncan had used. One of them tried to sneak up behind her, but stepped too heavily in pooling blood. She spun about and the blade she’d just retrieved carved a path up his body.

The rest hid themselves in the shadows of the room, becoming as small as possible while praying she would pass.

She turned, and her eyes found him. Maximilian desperately plied magic from the center of the room, but without supporting casters, his attempts to control her were futile at best.

She approached him slowly, family dirk in her right, longsword in her left.

The blade of his son’s longsword was put to his throat, “there werre only men guarrding this place. What did ye do wit’ th’ women, Max?” If that golden gaze could kill, this would have been over already.

He told her. She killed him.

And then she collapsed.

Pokemon Singularity

Regan Calhoun

Inventory

GP: 6000
Items: Potion x1, Pokeball x9, [E] Ranger Cap, Rotom Phone

Roster

#1, Kaebe

Tyrunt ♂, Lv 5
Moves: Tackle, Tail Whip, Roar, Dragon Dance
Ability: Strong Jaw

#2, Magnemite (guest)

A, Lv 4
Moves: Tackle, Thundershock, Supersonic

PC

Empty

@Remram@Xaltwind

Magnemite spied the little gobbler in the dumpster and turned to Regan, waving its little magnet arms and then pointing down. Regan considered what it could be trying to tell her, before creeping up to the dumpster to take a peek inside. She crouched down under the lid, breathed deeply but slowly to be silent, and then stood to peek over carefully.

Oh! A pokemon, which obviously there was something in there, but a… baby Snorlax! She kept her pokedex put away, but snuck back again and made a gesture to Magenmite, waving her hand over her head and then pointing with all the fingers of that hand, dramatically, at the dumpster. She then grabbed a pokeball. If the little bugger was hungry, she could feed it some actual food and not dumpster trash, eugh. Magnemite stared a moment, imitated what she’d done with her hand as much as it could with a little magnet arm, and then understood. It nodded and got ready.

Munchlax, that’s it.

“Go!” She’d loosed the pokeball, intent on smacking the munchlax as Magnemite attacked.

~~~~~~~

My trainer team imploded. We’re just gonna…

~~~~~~~

She’d made it all the way to Florasong. After getting chased out of town by the owner of Le Meh, she’d just kept jogging. But now, she was in this beautiful little town of flowers. It smelled absolutely wonderful, here. But, man, who yells insults so loudly? It was really distracting from the pleasant atmosphere.

As she looked toward the source of the noise, Regan thought she saw.. is that Evelyn? Oh, good, someone else from the Lab! She was tired of going alone. She thought better of raising her voice and disturbing the peace like somebody, and simply pursued the other girl.

The manor she was rounding didn’t seem like it belonged here, to her. It was too big for a small, pleasant place like this. Just like that loud guy was way too disruptive. As she followed Evelyn's poor attempt at stealth, Regan simply walked, stopping here for passing servants or darting quickly there to get out of someone's way with the setup.

One of her evasions did not go so smoothly. She pivoted to get out of the way, her foot caught a chair, and she went stumbling, "wh-ooo-oooaa!" The foot that had been under her quickly stomped forward to catch herself from falling immediately, the foot that got caught quickly retracted and shot out in another heavy footfall. Her body pivoted, she pushed off of a nearby table to right herself as she tipped, and another foot came down, under more control. She was just about to crash into Evelyn. In fact, her shoulder did make contact. She desperately twisted her torso to pull it away from anything more than a touch, her other foot came around and landed to Evelyn's side while Regan grabbed Evelyn's shoulder and hip with martial precision. She pulled her in carefully, making sure she was steady and didn't fall into anyone or anything.

"Oof, sorry. Are you alright?" She didn't let go, though.