Enkryption

The Symphony

@Enkryption

Fantastic question! So the fated weapons are weapons that are specific to each of the fates chosen. While I plan for the fates to be a bit..... off, they still want to play to the strengths of their chosen few. Thankfully I do know the Hunting Horn very well from MH so I can see the idea you are going for. So if you wanted a fated weapon like that, where they play/hum/sing the note and use that note to change the effect of their weapon I would be okay to explore that more!

I am working on providing you all with the original Fated Five to provide some examples here soon!

@NoriWasHere

Sounds like a plan. I'll hang on for the examples, and then start spinning off ideas.

The Symphony

@Enkryption

I do hope to do it justice then :)

@NoriWasHere

I'm sure I'll enjoy this on its own merits.

I'm curious what the Fated Weapon can do, because I'm toying with the idea of a classic Bardcher, but with the unique idea that each note of Do, Re, Mi, and so on has an effect similar to how the Hunting Horn from Monster Hunter, so they can fire arrows that have various effects by plucking different notes and combining them into a shot.

I'll have more ideas to come, as well. So, figured, I'd better get that detail now to work with.

The Symphony

This reminds me of a D&D campaign I ran once, so I've definitely an interest in revisiting that from the PC side. I'll toss my hat it the ring with a potential Arcane Archer or Arcane Trickster idea, or whatever strikes me fancy while I'm at work. XD

Tales Of Shizuyama: Alternative (Far-Eastern Monster Girl RP)

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ATTN: @PaulHaynek (Ayu) & @AzureKnight (Lavinia)

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Despite the attempt at camaraderie meaning and the curious line of questioning, Ripcord addressed neither, as she carried on for the premarked zone that she would build up into the dining hall for she and her sister to effectively use as a house and food hoard.

And, speaking of her sister...

"There’s no kinda job board or anything around here," Umami says, swooping in on leathery wings. "Iunno what needs doing, so... what are we doing?"

"We’ll just work on the dining hall until something needs to be done," Ripcord says. "We don’t have all day to be asking people if they need help, after all."

Umami nodded, before transforming into her Wererabbit Form, "Ready to dig away!"

Ripcord chuckled, lightning a cigarette as they prepared to break ground.

Tales Of Shizuyama (Far-Eastern Monster Girl RP)

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ATTN: @PaulHaynek (Katsuhiro & Blacksmith)

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"At this present moment, I am in need of backstory on The Heavenly Strike technique," Alice says, plainly, "I’m bereft of my former memories and understanding of it, so I’m starting back at square one," she took a seat, "The reconnaissance phase."

---

Carroll nodded in understanding, as she took a seat to wait. "Just do what you can," she says, "In the future, you’ll be able to repeat and refine. A sword always needs sharpening, after all."

Magus Reaver: Scions of Sorcery

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ATTN:

---

As Scarlett and Lupina stepped onto the grounds of Eon Tower, their current duties to the tower were fulfilled for the time being. It was clear that something was going on, as bodies were busying themselves and gossip was flying left and right; discussion of an inspection, of inquisitors, and of their benefactor coming to visit.

A moment of recollection, and Scarlett remembered that The Holy Church was conducting interviews of the new members of Eon Tower - a contractual obligation agreed upon by their ruling council and benefactor. It stood to reason that everyone would be gathered for the, therefore, mandatory - and one-sided - Ask Me Anything from the higher clergy.

As such, Scarlett would be anywhere else.

Breaking away from Xashan, the Bestial Alchemist would drop to all four, and break into a full sprint, before the councilman could attempt to stop her. Unlike last time, Xashan didn't know where Scarlett was going, and before he could think about an potential locations, Lupina would go, "Oh~" and Baast would swallow her; flying her up to the tower as Xashan was distracted by her fellow's escape into the trees.

In an instant of telepathic communication, Xashan had been left standing alone with the burden of explaining where two of the newest members had gone.

---

Looking For A Handful of Flowers

Baast and Lupina had the layout of Eon Tower memorized, insofar as what the tour guided by Bellum had afforded. It was more than enough to navigate to the Herbalist's office, as the halls were silent and empty - all the interest lay downstairs where the company had gathered. As such, entering the office was a matter of just bypassing the door, which was no challenge from the former drug runner.

"You've yet to dull picking locks," Baast comments, as they enter the office without raising future alarm.

"Just start looking. We don't have all day, sadly," Lupina says, as she started going through drawers. "It's very unlikely that she's kept the flowers in here, but I highly doubt they are off the premises. Too dangerous for that kind of risk."

"Yeah, yeah," Baast says, thumbing through books and journals, looking for notes in the margins, and the like. Bellum seemed like the jotting type. "I hate hunting for eggs," he groused, "It would be easier to find what you want by going into his office."

"I'm not going near her," Lupina says, "I'm already annoyed enough that I'm indebted to one Goddess, but at least I don't see her. I see enough of that Demoness in my dream," she crossed her arms, "The fact that I can see her in person is terrifying to contemplate, as is."

Baast shrugged. Mae was an unmistakable presence, as a Spirit and an Esper, but he didn't feel her, at the moment. It wasn't like she was gone, as he could smell her scent carried on Arteus and Brunhyldia, but not hers in pursuit or lead; she wasn't attending the meeting.

"Doesn't seem like she's moved much. Her scent is always mingled, never mixed," Baast says, raking his claws through his flouncy hair, "Maybe, she's sleeping, or doing something somewhere else. Her Espermancy is beyond anything you can do, so, in don't -- "

" -- have any common sense not to insult your big sister, you dunderhead!" Lupina says, while pulling on Baast's rosy cheek, before pulling him into a half-nelson.

"Gah! Brute! You'll never find a husband being such a neanderthal!" Baast groaned.

" That rich, coming from the alpha pretending to be an omega!" Lupina laughed.

"It's fashionable," Baast says, as he broke free of her hold by turning semi-solid. "I saw Xashan peeking at my ass."

"Don't tease the poor man," Lupina sighed.

"Some of us don't have the luxury of being Oppai Opposition," Baast says, wagging his womanly hips. "You're just jealous, anyways. I try to keep you on a good diet, but you just wanna feed those monster mammaries junk food."

Lupina bleated in annoyance, as she stamped her cloven feet. "You're such a little brat!" she whined, before something caught her eyes. A bit of disorder among the general neatness of it all; for a gardener with a penchant for cooking, Bellum was not as messy as her rotundity would impress upon people. As such, something that didn’t belong stood out to the Spirit Archer.

"Found it."

Baast tilted his head, and followed her gaze. It was a single book that stood out in its newness among the oldness of its fellow. To most others, it wouldn’t look any different than the others which it was shelved with, but Bellum had implied that her research had recently begun, as they had to work through red tape and third-parties. Pulling the book off the shelf, Lupina would flip through it, memorizing Bellum’s research and notations.

"She’s definitely worthy of her field," Lupina says. "I’m impressed, no lie."

"That’s just information, though," Baast says, "We need clippings, or seeds. That won’t be here, or her normal workplace," he hummed, before snapping, "Say, remember what she told us? She keeps the flowers underneath her atelier."

"Next stop, then," Lupina says. "Though, definitely not the kind of place that will be behind a simple door lock," she says, "Likely, it’s a trap door that opens with some kind of spell or password. Since, we’ve time for neither, we’ll need to figure out something else..."

"For now, let’s cut it here. Just because everyone important it downstairs, doesn’t mean the unimportant people will stay there," Baast says, "Plus, we’re missing. They might send someone looking for us. I say, we beat the heat before the fire turns on."

Lupina nodded, as she put the notebook back, and latched the door. "Let’s head into town. Better we keep distance between this place and us, once we have the flowers." Lupina opened the window, and climbed out onto the ledge, before Baast closed it, and locked it back; dematerializing on one side and rematerializing on the other - squeezing his wispy smoke through the small cracks where the wood couldn’t sit flush. "There’s a town out that way. Let’s go there, and look for an apartment we can work out of."

"A sound plan. We won’t need the money from this job for much, after all," Baast says, as Lupina hopped onto his neck, and took off for the Republic of Morgenröte.

---

City Girl, Country Gal

Scarlett slipped into the city with little issue; the hustle n’ bustle allowed the cloaked woman to move without attracting undue attention, as she was no more important to the daily movement of the sidewalks and streets than anyone else with their faces buried in their phones, books, or whatever they would eating, while those on the road were minding it with varying degree of acceptance. Following her nose, Scarlett had backtracked the scents of the strangers that had passed through the gates of Eon Tower, and separated the scents into four - three of which were stained by the commonplace smells of the clergy.

Aware of which to avoid, Scarlett followed it forth to its source.

Having singled out the fourth of the scents she had picked up, Scarlett would quickly be on her way to its current location. While on her way, she received some strange looks from some of the citizens. Although, some simply presumed she was a Belua or halfbreed of some kind, allowing herself to be overtaken by her more primal side. That sort of thing wasn’t too uncommon in places like the Republic - places that allowed all races to commingle without barriers.

Eventually, she would arrive in front of a large towering building that had the logo “Krauser Industries” printed in bold, glossy letters on top of the entrance. The name was a dead giveaway as to who Scarlett had been sniffing out. She intended to pay the man a visit, but what her intentions were remain to be seen…

Scarlett kept her cloak on, herself covered, as the look told her what she suspected would be true: she was not inconspicuous. In order to function without attracting attention, she was going to have to be more normal, pass herself off as a normal person without a backstory or baggage such as hers. Passing by a window, Scarlett would look at her reflection, and take in her dreary doll-like expression and scarred visage.

"I’ll need to reinvent myself, if I’m getting close..." Scarlett would focus, thinking about the multiple functions of the Human body: the growth of muscle and bones; the division of skin and its pigmentation; the lengthening of hair and nails. It all felt neatly into an alchemical equation that she could bring under her control, and put to use.

Though, with no skill in Thaumaturgy, Scarlett was fixing to hurt throughout the initial process...

Ducking into an alley, almost an hour of trial and error with a dirty window as a mirror would produce a much different woman - stumbling into the streets like a newborn deer on clumsy legs from the underbrush with hazy eyes and dulled senses. As she did, she adjusted her transformed clothing which used the entirety of her cloak, resulting in a rather revealing outfit - which, ironically, helped separate identities.

"Do Ra Me Fa So La Ti Do..." Scarlett tested her vocal cords; the huskiness of her own voice was replaced by a childish lilt that wasn’t muffled by her face mask. "Sound like Milli," she says, mildly embarrassed.

Focusing herself, Scarlett would step to enter the building...

Scarlett would find herself walking into the main lobby, her new appearance doing its job as no one seemed to be bothered by her presence. At least so far. She would see a welcome/information desk further back from the entrance, with a few receptionists greeting guests and managing some paperwork. Making her way over, one of the secretaries would notice her approach and extend a warm greeting to her as well.

“Good Morning and Welcome!” Said the receptionist. “What can I assist you with, Ms.?”

"Valentina Ishval," Scarlett says, using the name of her unborn twin. "I saw an ad for a position. Ah've lived out in th’ countryside fer a long spell," she says, accenting her speech, before clearing her throat, as if catching herself, "I’m..." she made a visible effort of minding her tongue, "...am just looking for work, ma’am."

The receptionist was a bit taken aback by the incognito Scarlett’s awkward country accent, but her professionalism quickly took over as she tried to not let the alchemist notice. “Ah! I see, well thank you very much for applying. Yes, we were looking for a new administrative assistant, someone that could keep up with Mr. Krauser the CEO, so to speak teehee!” She said.

The receptionist began opening her draw and taking out some documents and a notepad. “I’m sorry, you said that your name was Ms. Valentina Ishval? That surname sounds a bit familiar, are you from an affluent family perhaps? Oh! But let’s not get sidetracked, can you tell me a bit about your experience and what you hope to gain from the position?”

"I'm told I'm pretty good at fetchin' an' goin', doin' this, doin' that, makin' tea, coffee, and the like. Whatever fixin's yer fancyin', really. Pretty good wit' mah numbers, pennin', and watchin' people," Scarlett says, speed-talking, allowing her accent to seep through endearingly, before she winced to acknowledge catching herself.

"Sorry... S'real hard, y'know, talkin' like city-folk. Ah'm tryin' my darnedest, but..." Scarlett bowed her head, internally wondering if she shouldn't have been an actor. "Ah'm sure th' head o' things 'round here would be embarrassed t' have a hick fer a secretary... Maybe, Ah ought go."

“Oh Goodness, certainly not! One of the most basic statements of our company is to accept individuals from all walks of life! I can assure you that accent would never be held against you during the process. I myself personally find your accent to be quite charming, as would others around the offices. If brought on, I’m sure you’d actually lighten up everyone’s day with it haha!” Clearing her throat, she tried again to maintain her professionalism.

“That brings up another point: Office life can be quite mundane and dragging. Of course, due to the unique services our company provides, your mileage may vary, but how do you deal with the grind?”

"Grind? Like, late nights an’ such," Scarlett asks. "Ah’m use t’ such things, iff’n Ah’m hones’. Bitta night owl."

The receptionist was a bit perplexed by Valentia’s answer. “I…see… Um, I meant more so how you deal with the often mentally taxing day-to-day goings on of office life. But, interesting to know that you’re a night owl. Ahem, but perhaps I shouldn't beat around the bush. We are a company that manufacturers and provides new innovations for methods that involve the extermination of apparitions. By the simple nature of the job, you may have to be put in situations where your life may be in danger. Are you prepared for that?”

"Huntin’ ghosts? Sounds easy enough," Scarlett says.

“Goodness, you make it sound so trivial!” Said the receptionist. “That being said, hopefully you yourself won’t have to be put in that situation very often. Your role will mainly focus on administrative, project management, and secretarial duties.” The receptionist then paused for a moment, clasping her hands noticeably tightly. “Well, at least as far as I can tell you. This is apparently a very ‘special’ role that Mr. Krauser handpicked specifically to help with classified duties. He himself will be the one to give you the rest of the information. I’m pleased with what I’ve heard so far, so you have my clearance to meet with him.”

Upon saying this, the receptionist would point “Valentia” towards a platform that had a unique magic circle transcribed on it. Valentia likely could tell that it was a glyph to invoke the power of the void.

“That is a conduit that will transport you directly to Mr. Krauser’s office in the building’s penthouse. He’s already aware that someone coming into his office in this way is a person who passed the first round of questions and is ready for a second interview. Unless you have any further questions, would you like to step on the platform and meet with him?”

"Sounds like a plan!" Scarlett says.

“Then please step this way!” Said the receptionist, getsuring Valentia to step onto the platform. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Ishval, and good luck on your second interview!” With that, Valentia would step into the magic circle and suddenly find herself being shifted through a shadowy veil, and within the next moment she was in the middle of a large office. Artifacts, magitek, and portraits lined the walls of the decorative office. There would be an older gentleman dressed in a suit sitting at a large desk just in front of her, he didn’t seem to acknowledge her sudden arrival in his office at first. He opted to file some documents in his draws and shift through some papers on his desk.

After a little bit, however, the man turned up at the woman, finally acknowledging her presence.

”Good Morning, Ms. Ishval.” He said in a friendly tone. ”I trust you didn’t have too much trouble getting here? Want to take you again for coming, but, honestly…” He rubbed his chin, as if thinking for a moment. ”I’m surprised that you decided to apply for the role. Or, perhaps I should say that someone from Eon in general decided to apply. Arteus gives his staff enough on their plate as it is, I feel. Can’t see why anyone would want to add more to their workload.”

Adjusting some more papers, the man had laid them flat on the desk after he was satisfied with their alignment. He began again after taking a sip of his coffee. ”So, tell me Scarlett, what about this role attracted you to my industry? I can’t imagine you have any particular interest in apparitions.”

"Exceedingly little, Scarlett says. " Aside from this lil'un, right here," she manifested Milli along her right arm, "Ah've little thought to spare towards ghosts. Mah mind is always engineered t' look forward, t' betterin' mahself."

Scarlett's body seemed to ripple, as she shifted herself between Valentina and herself.

"This arm is proof of that concept, and that drive, which is what brings me to you," Scarlett says, "I'm fine with something as demeaning secretarial work. In return, I'm looking for a lapse in overhead - a place to work, to put it plainly, unassociated with Eon Tower."

"Living two lives won't be an issue for me, as long as neither of my jobs have scheduling conflicts, so to speak," Scarlett adds, as something of an afterthought.

”Quite right.“ Donovan said. ”I'm all for individuals wanting to better themselves, as it benefits them and the people around them. However…“ He leaned forward on his desk, elbows resting on the table with his hands clasping, hiding his mouth from view.

”What about working here makes you feel it would benefit you in your path toward self-improvement? At first, I was just under the impression that Arteus doesn't pay his people well enough!“

"Humanity has ceased to value Evolution over Improvement, softened with technological advancement, and placing no stake in the betterment of the Self," Scarlett says, before engaging her Alchemy to form Neutrophil; the blade leveled at Donovan. "I don't need payment. My task is selfless, charity, in a sense. As proof of concept, I even intend to make you a prosthesis of your arm that is flesh and bone, as you once had."

Donovan inspected the sword Scarlett generated from her arm, gently rubbing it with the prosthetic hand he had. ”Goodness, this ability you have certainly surpasses the versatility and flexibility of my magitek limb.“ He said, rubbing his chin with curious interest.

”However, if I truly wanted a flesh and bone limb again, I simply would've when to Elaine by now.“ He said with a solemn tone. ”I've made peace with my circumstances, yet also I've developed a sentimental bond with my prosthetic. And, due to the nature of my injury, I wonder if Ms. Gardner would even be able to restore the wound.“

Staring at his arm, then at the sword, he then turned back to Scarlett. ”Well. To get more into the nature of the role, you'll act as my direct support in my direction of pushing for solutions of dealing with apparition attacks and injuries. As a company that mainly specializes in technology, having someone who can offer solutions that can strengthen the natural body will be quite useful for common folk and those who lack magical talent.“ Donovan got up from his seat and stared at the window for a moment.

”In addition, you'll also support me in the shadows by performing, less conventional activities. Not sure if you're aware, but there was a mission that your allies had completed for me that opened my eyes to just how many enemies my company and subsidiaries may have. Espionage, bodyguarding, play double agent: are these things you feel you would be willing to do?“

"I have only one standing rule: I won't experiment on someone unethically. My mission is benevolence, and malpractice would taint my progress. I've transgressed once, but only once," Scarlett says, "I gained perspective, then. Anything else is merely a matter of how much time it will take me to create an identity."

"Even murder should be no obstacle," Scarlett says.

Donovan made a small sigh, turning his head to her. ”Well, hopefully it doesn’t come to that. Often. “ He then looked up, his eyes widening a bit as if he just thought of something.

”There was supposed to be a summons from the Church today at Eon Tower, are you sure it’s a good idea to skip like this? I thought you wanted to keep a low profile? “

"I’ve already established that I don’t do anything I don’t want," Scarlett says, "I’m liberally employing the “come and go” nature of my employment. An employment that doesn’t come from the Holy Church."

Donovan made a jovial scoff at the woman’s dismissal. ”I see, well a woman that understands what she wants should be appreciated in her own way. I just hope you don’t always apply the same attitude when conducting business under my behalf!“ Walking over closer to Scarlett, Donovan held out his flesh hand in front of her.

”I welcome you to Krauser Industries, Ms. Ishval. I do hope we work well together. I’ll contact you in the coming days to discuss the more immediate concerns on my desk. You’ll usually see a request on the job board back at the Tower from the company as well. You can do those by yourself or with someone, it doesn’t really matter in that case. I am an ally of Eon through and through, and you don’t have to act as though you’re a double agent with conflicting allegiances. Of course, some things will need to be kept confidential between you and me. Do you have any questions for me currently?“

"Everything is clear enough," Scarlett says, taking his hand, "As far as things are concerned, keeping these and those separate makes things simple," she says, transforming half herself into Valentina, "What I do for Arteus is in the name of redemption for the lives I've taken in my ignorance of the darkness he aligns himself again," she narrowed her eyes, looking up, "What I do for you is to honour those I killed to get where I am today and bring out dream of a better tomorrow into the light."

"As for anyone I would bring into this arrangement, I do have... sisters, so to speak. I could arrange for one to meet you, but I'm sure she would rather keep things separated between this and that, as well," Scarlett says, "If she's anything like me, her secrets are best held in check without risking anyone finding out and corrupting held opinions."

”Sisters, huh? Interesting, perhaps I might. Although, I believe just one person will suffice for this role for now. Especially one with your talents.“ Donovan said, somewhat intrigued. ”If you’d like, I could give you a tour of the building, or do you have other matters you wish to attend to for now?“

"I have nothing but time to spare, at the moment," Scarlett says, transforming in full. She'd no interest in dealing with the Holy Church and that bullshit. "Aside from taking up a residence, since I'll need an address, and somewhere to experiment with that glyph that teleported me here," she says, "Instantaneous Transportation between my residence in Morgenröte and my room in Eon Tower would be invaluable."

”Hmhm, I suppose it wouldn’t be too difficult to have someone in accounting purchasing housing for you, Ms. Ishval.“ He said. ”Until then, we may have to book you a hotel, haha! Also, I can have someone give you the schematics for the void glyph; I’ve not doubt you’d learn how to construct the magic with little difficulty.“ Donovan would then show her to the door, and with it open Scarlett would be able to gaze out into the hallway.

”Well then, Ms. Ishval, why don’t I show you around for a moment? “

"After you," Scarlett says, with a soft smile.

Tales Of Shizuyama: Alternative (Far-Eastern Monster Girl RP)

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ATTN: @PaulHaynek (Ayu)

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"Hey, you two. Good job bringing those people here. Ayane's Sake Brewery is real famous here in Shizuyama, so having the crew safe will be good for morale. Even if the ruling Oja Clan doesn't drink."

Ayu

"Of course, it was a good job. It would stain our reputation to do less than," Ripcord says.

Umami nodded, "Everyone drinks, you know. Doesn't matter if a buncha stuffy heads don't wanna, if everyone else wannas, umu~"

"Speaking of the Oja Clan, Takeshi has returned with Kirei and Nyla. It seemed the Shoggoth got a little too homesick and requested for a teleport home. Say, don't you two personally serve Lady Kyouko too? Any of you feeling homesick?"

Ayu

"Nyla?" Umami tilted her head, "Who?"

Ripcord shrugged, "Are we supposed to care?"

Umami nodded. "Don't, it you wanted that," she says, "Everyone could leave, if they wanna, but we don't wanna," she says, "We aren't made of lame, umu~!"

"Even then, we don't have a home to be sick for," Ripcord says. "Varjo is thousands of miles away, and Akamagaseki, Omote Port, was just somewhere to sleep," she says, "In any case, we have things to do. Mami, check the request board, and see if any will better our objective."

"Sì, Papi!" Umami saluted and sprinted off.

"Arrivederci, Spymaster," Ripcord says with a dismissive wave, before she spawned a miner's hat on her head and a pickaxe in hand.

Tales Of Shizuyama (Far-Eastern Monster Girl RP)

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ATTN: @PaulHaynek (Sorae & Blacksmith)

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"You don't remember how you got a wound? Did you change your memories too when you changed your look?"

Sorae

Alice rolled her eyes, "People keep asking me that, like I'm supposed to know. Does it matter what I do and don't remember, warrior woman? Unless we slept together, you're wasting time."

"Anyway, I believe you got that from pursuing the students of the Heavenly Strike. The aforementioned technique being an attack that strikes quicker than the eye could see. You can get the details from that storyteller fellow, Katsuhiro."

Sorae

"Katsuhiro, eh," Alice asks, crossing her arms with a nod. "Heavenly Strike. Feels familiar to me... Sounds like something that could cut me..."

"From what I heard, you've been beaten back by the students twice now, so you and half of the taskforce trained a bit for your rematch against them. Not sure what the results of that training, though."

Sorae

Alice's right eyebrow twitches, as she growled out, "I have three centuries of swordsmanship under my belt. Multiple lifetimes of you, Human. I don't need training..."

"Since it appears you've lost your memory, it appears all that training was for naught. If I were you, I'd just get strength from numbers. The students can handle one yokai, or two non-coordinating ones, but any more than that and they'll be overwhelmed."

Sorae

"The hell if I would rely on anyone to hold my side. I take the frontline as sword and shield," Alice says. "Though, I am glad you aren't me," she says, "I wouldn't send the peasantry against the soldiery, when I can swing a sword."

Alice would take note of Eula's return, and look at her curious, as Sorae took note of her, too.

"Welcome back. You sure you're not needed anywhere else?"

Sorae

"I'd ask you the same," Alice interjected, well-aware that Sorae was speaking to Eula, "However, I'd say you are where you should be: comfortably on the backlines, where cowards huddle to give orders to the expendable."

Turning on her heel, Alice would head off to ask around for Katsuhiro, and start to recover a fragment of her memories...

---

"If your blades need work, Lady Yokai, then let me be of use." He greeted.

Blacksmith

Carroll nodded, before the long lock of hair that flowed to her thigh started to move, and reached under her cloak -- popping off her left arm, followed by her right. As they were set on the table, they would warp-spasm, and turn into a pair of six-foot blades akin to two, mismatched halves of a pair of scissors; the left blade was a vibrant violet with an open, circular handle, while the right blade was a resplendent ruby with an open, semi-circular handle.

"Can you sharpen vorpal steel," Carroll asks. "Benihime and Nozarashi are feeling dull," she says, pushing the left sword forward, then the right sword, respectively, "I understand, if you can't, of course. After all, I doubt you have much experience with Wonderlandian metals and smithing."

Tales Of Shizuyama: Alternative (Far-Eastern Monster Girl RP)

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ATTN: @PaulHaynek

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For Sake's Sake

"We've arrived..." Ripcord says, as she looked around. "And, everything is here. That's not protocol."

"Everything is still standing, Rippy! People are still alive! Are we sure Varjans came here..." Umami asks.

Ripcord shrugged. "Let's ask around," she says, striding to the nearest villager, "Hey, why didn't the Varjans just erase this place like they normally would?"

The peasant woman bowed. “Please. This way.” She led the Claremont sisters into the workers’ living quarters and urged them inside with quick hand movements.

Once inside the building, the peasant woman assumed a more relaxed, honest tone. “Apologies, miladies. I couldn’t speak freely out there. The Varjans might have overheard.” She then continued. “They’ve been drinking us dry. When they first came, their leader - a Varjan Warrior covered in fur pelts - offered to spare us as long as we gave them sake.”

“But the amount they've been demanding lately is way too much than we can provide. And they’re coming soon too.”

"The fact you're still alive is contingent on whatever you are supplying," Ripcord says, "Sounds like a protection racket."

"Protecting what? Those place doesn't offer much in the way of value, beyond the sake production," Umami says, "There's nothing much to gain in protecting something ypu can buy at any market."

"Even a good production house isn't worth anything to the war effort. However, the land is a different story," Ripcord surmised, "Mami, take to the sky, and see if there is anything of interest around?"

Umami snapped a salute, before her body transformed, "On it, Papi!" and she shot into the sky like a rocket. The apex of her wing-assisted, she transformed again; taking on the features of a Werebat, as she descended, and took in the surroundings. Upon landing, she held on all fours, and looked up. "Here's what I got..."

The villager woman said. “Yokai or not, how dare you speak of our sake like that? Our sake is known throughout Shizuyama. This is not some random horse piss an amateur sake brewer makes in their backyard. Our methods had decades of refinement.”

Umami saw nothing of note nearby that could interest the invaders. There was only forest around the brewery. Perhaps, the Varjans really were only here for the sake and kept these people alive to brew more.

"Yokai," Ripcord spat. "Humans use that word with arrogance and disdain. Be it the Varjans that created us as a superweapon, or those that kept us enslaved to be used for our purpose," Ripcord looked at the woman, her temper flaring nonverbally, as her left eye divided like an egg cell into multiple irises, "Or, you, here and now, assuming that we are nothing more than a weapon for YOU to point at our old slave keepers to do your dirty work."

"We just want to live! We have names! We have hopes and dreams! We bleed! We need to eat, sleep, piss, and shit! Just like you!" Umami snapped, her temper flaring verbally, "It's not our fault you weren't born into chattel slavery, designed as nothing more than a product to be used! No better than the bottle used to hold this sake you're so proud of! And, just as easy to throw away!"

Ripcord placed her hand on Umami's cheek, and brought her close. "You're losing your temper, Mami," she says, bringing them nose-to-nose, "Breathe, in and out... Steady..."

Umami balled her fists, before her shoulders dropped. "I'm not a monster, Papi... I'm Umami..." she looked to the side.

"My baby sister, and my pride and joy," Ripcord smiled, rubbing their noses together, eliciting a giggle and blush from Umami, "The Varjans have an advantage with the forest. They can move small numbers through, and strike without warning. However, if they've been moving through it, they've been taking a route," she says, "Sniff it out, Mami. Find all of them, and return to make. I'll start making traps for you to put in their paths."

Umami saluted, before adopting Werewolf features, and licking her cheek, "I'm on it, Papi!" before she took off.

Ripcord giggled, and rubbed the lick into her cheek, before turning back to the woman. "As for you, I hope you had a good harvest, but I need material for explosives, and sake is flammable..."

“Take as much sake as you need, yokai.” The villager woman replied, surprisingly undaunted by the sisters’ earlier outburst. “Get these Varjans off our island.”

Meanwhile, Umami went into the forest and searched for the trail that the Varjans used. They did not bother masking their scents or their tracks, allowing her to find the trail immediately. In fact, she found much more: An entire dozen of Varjan Brigands armed with shields, axes and javelins were already en route to the brewery. From their walking speed, they would arrive in several minutes.

They were led by a fair-skinned, muscled man who walked confidently in front of the group. He wore nothing but a pair black trousers and a fur pelt around his neck. A large spear was slung on his back and he walked with abject boredom on his face… until he raised his fist to stop his men from moving.

“...Someone’s watching us.” He sensed Umami’s presence.

"Stop calling me that! I have a name!" Ripcord snapped, no longer maintaining her calm demeanor, now that Umami couldn't see her being so disgraceful. "I don't know or care what your past relations with others of my kind are, but I'm not them. I grew up under the whole palm of the Varjans - I've never had a choice to be anything more than a living mop and bucket, while my sister was naught but a broom and dustpan." Ripcord turned to face the woman, "You stand there with the freedom to insult me and denigrate my existence, while I was created to serve your kind until I break," she says, "I can get rid of your problems, free you of tyranny, but as long as you live, you'll always oppress me, and think it's just the way of things."

Before Ripcord could continue, she would bend forward, almost comically, as Umami full-body tackled her from behind - panting heavily. "Varjans! Coming! This many!" she held up her hands by her ears, flicking them left and right, "Whadda we do!?"

Ripcord straightened up, "Twelve, huh? Need to be smart about this, then. You, racist woman, since you've so much to say, put that mouth to work, and get people inside the most unassuming place. My original plan is shot. We'll have to take them off-route..."

Umami nodded, "What should I do?"

"I wish we had more time to dig a hole, but alas..." Ripcord closed her eyes, "You'll just have to keep them safe, while I deal with the brunt of it."

“You will always be yokai, madam.” The villager woman crossed her arms, replying to Ripcord. “That’s something no one can take away from you. If you are going to be angry every time you are called that, you will be angry for the rest of your life. Word of advice - be proud of who you are, no matter your past.” The woman finished. “There’s a basement here where we can fully hide. You two just focus on the Varjans, don’t worry about our safety.”

After the woman gathered all of the workers and hid, the Varjan contingent finally arrived. Or at least, one of them did - the fur-pelted leader. He sauntered into the brewery area seemingly without a care in the world, the rest of his group nowhere to be seen. Presumably staying back in the forest, or laying an ambush.

Ripcord bit her lip, as the woman spoke. There was no pride in her. There was nothing to be proud about. She was a tool; a hammer when there were nails, a screwdriver when there were screws, and so on, so forth. Her purpose was to serve. Pride wasn't in the mission statement.

As the workers moved about, they gained an extra body, as Umami slipped into their ranks, and would take to hiding among the workers in the basement; disguised and present to protect them, if the Varjans went a-hunting.

Meanwhile, Ripcord looked at the main attraction, and dropped to her ankles in a foreigner squatting pose, as she rummaged her non-existent pockets, and retrieved a pack of rolled cigarettes and a lighter - immediate giveaway to her homeland.

"So," Ripcord asks, lighting the stick, "What's Varjo want with a dumpy, little sake shack on this no-name, little shit stain of an island?" Taking a drag, Ripcord blew smoke at the leader, "Shit, my bad. Old habits. I didn't ask your name. Mine's..." Ripcord paused, "Isn't that something... I've forgotten what it was. I'll have to ask for a new name once I get back, I guess."

The Varjan Champion sniffed the smoke blown at him. “That depends. What’s a monster doing on an anti-monster island?” He responded. “...Don’t try to pretend. You’re no local and you’re not Order. I’d say Varjan, but my gut really says that isn’t the case. That narrows the choices down.”

“Still, I’m glad you’re here. The alcohol this place is making is top-notch stuff. Much better than whatever gunk we brew back in the ships. But it has always been my opinion that drinks taste much better after… a fierce workout.” The Champion continued. “So, monster. When do we start?”

Ripcord signed, "I was born just as Human as anyone else..." Standing, she looked annoyed, and flicked ash off her cigarettes. "Sounds like your problems are insignificant, just a bunch of drunks, unhappy with their own drink."

"Well, regardless, whenever you'd like to begin," Ripcord says.

“Ah, a traitor to the human race then.” The Varjan Champion concluded. “I think we can begin now.”

The whizzing of the air alerted Ripcord of something rapidly coming at her. She was not fast enough to evade but fortunately, the attack missed. A javelin thrown at Ripcord did not find its mark, but landed quite close at the ground mere inches from her. “Oh, for the love of…”

The Varjan Champion quickly grabbed the missed javelin and began thrusting and swinging the weapon against Ripcord.

There was a loud clang, as the initial swing found purchase, before it was shoved back towards his; a large, unwieldy weapon pushing out of Ripcord's body. "Traitor," she asks, "Quite the contrary. It was Varjan science that made me. It's simply doing what I was born to do by your betters."

Lifting the weapons, Ripcord pulled on the ripcord, and it revved to life with an unnatural roar and sustained growl, as the misshapen canine teeth spun.

Hopping forward, Ripcord would cleave at the Champion - fully on the offensive.

The Varjan Champion reeled back from the unknown, but powerful, weapon. To him, it looked like some sort of sword. A sword that had teeth. Teeth that slid along the blade with blurring speed, rending anything that it made contact with.

A vertical swing of Ripcord’s weapon split the Champion’s javelin into two and sent him stumbling to the ground. But before Ripcord could deal the finishing blow, javelins and throwing axes rained on the Homunculus. The Brigands that this Champion led had climbed the rooftops of the brewery’s buildings and threw projectiles from the vantage point.

The Champion used the opportunity to get some distance from Ripcord. Picking up a missed thrown axe as a weapon.

Ripcord barely took her focus off her opponent; she didn't have to, after all. As the rain of projectiles came at her, she would shed her clothing, and expose a myriad of opening eyes like those that bore down on her opponent. Her skin would ripple like a disturbed pond, before fleshed arms erupted from her; her by undergoing intense, rapid mutation of her Shoggoth DNA, and allowing her to catch the weapons slung at her from all angles.

Pulling her numerous arms back, acid would leak from her fingertips and her sweat glands - dissolving the weapons, as she absorbed them.

"A delicious craftsmanship. It's crude and quaint. Like, a simple meat stew or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich," Ripcord says, licking her fingers, "Reminds me Varjo. What they fed me, back in the business..."

"I can't wait to get my dessert... haven't had dessert in so long... I just have to clean my plate..."

The Varjans were stunned at Ripcord’s display of her Shoggoth abilities. Even the Champion was slack-jawed for a moment before regaining his senses. “Shoggoth! Prepare fire weapons!” He ordered his underlings.

Despite that, Ripcord saw about half of the Varjan crew leap from the buildings to run away. They were not here to fight such a terrifying creature.

The Varjan Champion hacked at Ripcord with his small axe. “You want your dessert? Come get it!” He stretched his arms at the Homunculus, goading her to attack him.

Ripcord revved her weapon, "Fire? How cute..."

Moving forward, Ripcord would launch herself via the momentum of her oversized weapon, and chase - slinging her moving sword forward, and through one of the retreating men. Flesh rent, acid seeped into the wound, and like venom, ran through his bloodstream. Turning with a swing of her weapon, Ripcord corrected her path, and chased another.

She seemed completely uninteresting in the goading attempt, as she swept up the small fry... like hor d'oeuvres...

“Oh no, you don’t!” Ripcord felt her flesh grabbed with tremendous strength. “Your fight is with me!”

The Homunculus was thrown by the Varjan Champion into one of the buildings in the brewery, crashing through a wooden support and into some barrels. Ripcord felt liquid splash onto her, the alcoholic sake from the barrels. When she looked up, she saw a line of three Varjan Footmen aiming flame-tipped arrows at her with their bows. The Varjan Champion was just behind them.

“Fire!”

Ripcord barely flinched, as she absorbed the sake into her skin, and swung her weapon; acid splashing off the spinning teeth, and melting the arrows in mid-flight. In addition to that, it created momentum that she would use to throw herself forward, and give herself a boost to her transition into a running sprint. As she rushed, the Mutant would stow her weapons away by rapidly sucking it into her hands, before pivoting on her right foot, and spinning; twinned, smaller version of her weapon erupting from her hands, as her arms stretched, and allowed her to become a whirling dervish, as she spun at the champion with the intent of slicing his men down as collateral.

Two of the Footmen were cut down as Ripcord spun, the third one managed to duck in time to live and run for his life. The Varjan Champion stood fast in his position as Ripcord came at him. With impeccable timing, he moved forward and caught one of the Mutant’s arms mid-swing and stopped the spin attack.

The Champion then threw Ripcord over his shoulder and pinned her on the ground. “Hahahaha! You are no ordinary monster, that I can tell for sure! You are a fine prey to hunt!”

"You aren’t..." Ripcord says, looking away, before looking back. Umami had a difficult time listening, and moreso, obeying orders, but she’d done well so far. "The countryside isn’t as interesting as I hoped," she lamented, "I’m just torn between if I should melt you down or kill you quickly. Normally, why work is with corpses, so I’m conflicted between business or pleasure..."

Ripcord grinned, as her skin grew translucent, and tendrils erupted from her where she was being pinned; tiny, nipping mouths forming to tear like ant.

"I’ll choose both, I think..." the Shoggoth grinned.

As the third Varjan ran through the woods, a wind would swept past him, and bring him, but a moment’s pause, before he was suddenly several dozen feet over the woods, and in the blink of an eye... falling.

"Too close. Too close. Rippy would have scolding me, if anyone got away..." Umami says, as she flew back to the ground, and transformed into a Weresheep upon landing. "Sorry about this..." the Chimera frowned, raising her cloven foot over the head of the broken man, having crashed through several tree branches, "It’s just business..."

Umami would slam her foot through his skull, before hurrying back to the workers; shapeshifting back into her borrowed Human form.

“Argh!” Ripcord’s tendrils bit onto the Varjan Champion’s arm pinning her to the ground. He was forced to let go, but not before grabbing her neck with his free hand. Ripcord felt something magical embed on her neck before the Champion released his grip.

The Varjan Champion stumbled back and dropped to the ground, grasping his stung arm. He had no weapons and was virtually defenseless before Ripcord. “Now, my fellow Varjan hunters will know who you are. Hahaha!” He laughed as he admired the magical mark he branded onto Ripcord’s neck. “You will be hunted for the rest of your days.”

The brand was a red mark in the shape of the Champion’s palm. It seemed as if it was ordinary red paint, but it was something definitely magical.

Ripcord eyed the Champion... through about two dozen eyes, as her Shoggoth nature took full hold; eyes and mouths opening across her body, as she shed her clothing and Humanity in equal measure. Before long, she was naught more than an amorphous blob with a translucent, yet pearlescent young woman sat upon like a melted Centaur.

Biting; Stinging; Lashing tendrils whipped out, and surrounded the Champion. "Do you have a name..." Ripcord asks, her voice muffled by the lack of a primary mouth, as her face was a blank expansive, like a mask with eye holes, yet amplified by the myriad of secondary mouths that decorated her body. "I wish to thank you for such a promise of fun to come."

“I do. It is Naugar. The one who marked you. Each time you are attacked, you think of me. Every time you are robbed of peace, you think of me. The moment you breath your last, you think of me.” Those were the Champion’s final words as he let himself be eaten by Ripcord.

"Yeah, yeah, words, words, so talkative. I’ll see you again, in like, eight hours, as literal pile of shit," Ripcord rolled her nonexistent eyes, as she shuffled forward; shedding her True Form, and stepping out of the amassed smile in her Human form. "Jeez... i didn’t even look to see where they ran off too..." she says, reaching into her side, and retrieving her smokes, before loosing a shrill whistle.

Umami perked up, and dropped her transformation. "It’s safe to return," she says, before bouncing out the doors to the cellar, happily throwing them wide. "The sake is safe! And, the people, too! We did it!"

The brewery workers reluctantly left the cellar, and beheld the work of Ripcord. They were in awe at how one monster woman managed to repulse an entire Varjan unit. Not everyone was optimistic, however. “Once the Varjans learn this unit is gone, they’ll send more to find out what happened.” One of the men said.

“He’s right.” The woman leading the brewery said before turning to the sisters. “Can you two stay? You can have as much sake as you want.”

"Nope!~" Umami beamed. "We’re just helpful adventurer types, now! From the big temple place! That’s our home!"

"There’s not a lot of you here," Ripcord says, "A repeat of today would go poorly, so... what if we just bring all of this to the temple," she mused, "I can probably fit all of your machines and you inside of me."

“Big temple place? What temple are you talking about?” The woman asked.

Ripcord would explain, since it wasn’t common knowledge. "The temple to the... north... ish... or so... That’s unimportant. Point is, it’s a... well, kinda like a village, really. It’s a place where Humans and Mamono can coexist, and where we can put our abilities forward on missions like this," she says. "It was requested of us to aid you, and so we did. My sister and I are newcomers to the whole ordeal, so you’d have to ask more experienced members for better details. But, the long and short of it is this: You needed help, and we came to help."

"It’s not safe here, but it can be safe there, and there’s a kitchen area that my sisters and I are going to build up, so I’m betting we can fit a bit of your sake stuff in there," Ripcord nodded, as she visualized it, "Sure, it won’t be to such scale as this, but starting over small isn’t such a terrible price for safety from those idiots that attack you for what you should be given coin for."

"Plus, we can show you how to make Sno-cones! So you can have something to sell when its super-hot out!" Umami supplied.

“A temple to the north… You mean Terauchi Temple? It’s a place where yokai and humans coexist, huh? I knew there was something off with that temple before all of this.” The woman then shrugged. “Whatever, we’ll take refuge there then. Thank you for fighting off the Varjans extorting our brewery.”

The brewer crew all bowed at the Claremont sisters.

“And please, no need to bring our equipment. You’ve already done so much for us.” The woman finished. “We’ll just close up here and hide the equipment as much as we can. We can just come back here once the Varjan invasion is over.”

Ripcord tilted her head, "It wouldn't trouble me to carry everything, but if you're sure," Ripcord would turn. "Let's go home, then."

"Umu!" Umami cheered.

Helping the worker pack up their homes and livelihoods, Ripcord and Umami would start the task of escorting them home.

Tales Of Shizuyama (Far-Eastern Monster Girl RP)

---

ATTN: @PaulHaynek (Sorae) & @The Irish Tree (Eula)

---

As Alice was redirected to where Eula had headed, she would come across her and Sorae in mid-conversation; momentarily listening in, as the boarish woman spoke to the metal woman. Wrinkling her nose, Alice would scent Carroll on Eula, and approached them - well, more like, she was stalking up to Eula.

However, before she would confront the Automaton, Eula would shift in a manner that threw her off for a moment...

---

I Remember Touch

Sorae’s approach had caught Eula unaware, and even more aware of the fact that Carroll hadn’t left the place they’d just been at. It seemed this Sogen’s wife was needed to find out who killed Clan Tokinomiya…which, Eula had no idea who they were, but did have a general agreement that murder was bad, and therefore must be punished. "I will conduct my search shortly, but…let me go check on something first. Excuse me," the automaton said, before returning to where she had parted with Carroll.

"Uh... right, then..." Alice offered, as the Robot split off to seek her Sword Devil. It was baffling how someone supposedly hailing from one of the smartest Species in the Realms could be such an airhead to not notice that she was by herself for over an hour. Then again, Eula wasn’t exactly... all together, to be nice about it, in Alice’s (literally) day-old opinion of her. "I’ll be here, then..." she says, before wheeling on Sorae...

Meanwhile, Eula’s search - or, rather, her retrieval would be brought pause by the quiet crying of someone in the distance.

Eula’s mind was…fuzzy in places, after waking up. As if some part of her were still sleeping. She didn’t understand it, and diagnostics showed nothing wrong. Her senses were sharp, that she was sure of, as she honed in on the quiet sobs that broke the silence in the building, the automaton’s footsteps echoing a bit as she approached the source. Her hand had a small buzz running along it, an imperceptible residual “aura” of demonic energy contact. She had a feeling this sobbing was from its source.

"...Carroll?"

"Hrm!?" Carroll snapped up at the call of her name, and struggled to compose herself.

Eula approached and crouched down before her. "...You were crying…is something wrong?"

"No," Carroll lied outright.

"Your eyes are red and puffy," Eula retorted.

"Just allergies!" Carroll says, as if that was a thing for a living sword.

Eula was quiet for a moment before she sat down. "I see. Must be the dust," she said, not wanting to press the subject.

Carroll sniffled, rubbing her eyes. "I’m sorry..." she says, gathering her knees to her chest, as she looked so small and helpless in her garb; looking, quite simply, like an academy student lost on her first day.

"You have nothing to apologize for. …Everyone gets allergies, from time to time."

Carroll chuckled. "It’s stupid... I’m stupid..." she says, pulling her hat down. "Stupid... Stupid..."

Eula would slowly reach out and lay her right hand atop Carroll’s hat, patting it softly. "You are not."

"..." Carroll groaned, bowing her head further, "I am... I shouldn’t have..."

Eula didn’t say a word. She didn’t know what she could even say, since she’d only known Carroll for a day now. But…she was certain that she didn’t want to move her hand away.

"I’m sorry... I possessed you, so I could dream..." Carroll says. "Someone like me doesn’t deserve dreams..."

"...What is a dream?" Eula asked simply.

"Like, scientifically or philosophically," Carroll asks.

"I am aware of both definitions. But what is a dream to you?"

"A memory... memories I don’t deserve to remember..." Carroll says.

"I see. Then, you really have done nothing wrong. Remembering isn’t a sin. And if you’re still convinced it is, then I forgive you. For treasuring your memories enough to want to see them."

"I don’t deserve to see those I’ve failed..." Carroll says.

”Sometimes…keeping something in your memory is the way you help it to survive. You might never forget, and might never forgive yourself. …But…those memories…don’t they at least deserve to be carried by you?"

"I failed my family... my daughters... my wife... my home... my unborn child..." Carroll grit her shark-like teeth, "They deserved better than me..."

Eula was silent for a time, before she would crouch a bit lower, moving her arms to wrap around Carroll. She couldn’t hope to understand what Carroll had gone through, but…nobody deserved to suffer alone.

Carroll gasped, as Eula hugged her - not out of pity, but sympathy. It wasn’t stated nor alluded to, but transmitted between the two beings of steel and mana, as Carroll’s reflexively hugged back; her arm transforming, and linking the pair together in their mindscape again.

However, instead of Europa visiting Carroll, Eula was momentarily splashed into a lively scene of Carroll’s family in the middle of a dinnertime foodfight, with a messy Carroll bowing her head against the fridge, as Io patted her head - much like Eula had. The scene was abruptly ended by Carroll jerking back.

...retreating into her curled ball once again.

Eula was lost once the dream took hold, her confusion giving Carroll enough time to retreat into the safety of herself. …The automaton didn’t know what to think, but would quietly embrace Carroll once more.

Unless she took Carroll’s hand, she wouldn’t go back. However, Carroll didn’t retreat further - a modicum of trust, maybe, or just... familiarity she was so selfish to push away?

Eula wouldn’t intrude. Not to Carroll’s happiness. She would only hold her, leaving the decision on whether to reach out entirely onto Carroll.

"Do you hate me..." Carroll asks, "My transgression... selfishness..." she didn’t look up from her bowed curl, "Using you in her place... because you look like she did once..."

"I don’t. You haven’t used me for anything, Carroll. Nothing that can hurt me."

"That’s a lie," Carroll says. "You might not be a Synth, but even you have emotions," she says, "Those injuries aren’t just for show. They mark a desire to protect something. That is a hurt you take on that will always be able to hurt you. If it couldn’t, you wouldn’t... we wouldn’t... this wouldn’t be happening."

Eula would consider Carroll’s words for a moment, before reaching down to take Carroll’s hands, not letting go this time. "If she meant everything to you, then remember."

"I don’t want to remember..." Carroll groaned, tears swelling in her eyes. "I don’t want you to get wrapped up in my memories! It’s not fair to you!"

Fair. What a novel concept. Fair is a summer’s day, fair is an agreement of two. Fair isn’t life, because if it was, Shizuyama wouldn’t be under attack by a foreign power, aided only by those who they’d sworn to expel from their lands. Fair…wasn’t what Carroll had to experience, feeling pain in her happiest moments.

Fair wasn’t being an automaton with no memories and no Master. But…life wasn’t fair. So neither would Eula be. "It is my mistake to make. Nobody else’s."

Carroll let her head drop, confused. "Why," she asks.

"Because. I know how it feels to have memories taken. …I…lost the human who awoke me, almost a lifetime ago. I’ve burned them, into my memory, so…I understand at least that much. And…if you loved her, and she loved you back…she wouldn’t want your memories of her to be painful." Eula said, for one, singular moment, having a smile exactly like Carroll’s lost love.

"Why do you have to look like her..." Carroll struggled to keep her face straight. "Was I such a bad person to be tormented like this..." Carroll trembled, before her last string snapped; tears slipping out, as her voice freed, and her sobbing renewed. "I miss her so much, and I can’t burden your shoulders like this, so why would you let me!?"

"Because…you held my hand. Even if just for a short time."

"I don’t understand..." Carroll says.

"Neither do I," Eula said simply, offering her hand once more.

Carroll looked at her offered hand, and then at Eula, "Why, though? Aren’t you scared?"

"If I were, I wouldn’t have come to this land. Automatons don’t feel fear…at least, not in the truest sense of it. Simulated feelings, synapses leading to warnings…fundamental fear on an instinctual level. But, if I can help someone, I will reach out. No matter what scares me."

Carroll held up her hand. "I don’t understand you... but... I’ll trust you... with my memories, then..." Carroll says, before taking Eula’s hand firmly.

Eula would accept it and help Carroll stand up.

Carroll stood to her full shortstack (minus the stack) height, and cracked her neck. "Okay... that was embarrassing... but... cathartic... " she says, interlacing her fingers with Eula’s reflexively. "So... thanks or whatever... I guess."

"You are welcome," Eula said, remaining silent after for a healthy enough amount of time for Carroll to realize they were still holding hands.

Carroll wouldn’t realize until she started to walk to the door, and was yoinked back by Eula not following. "Keh! Sorry!" she blushed, yanking her arm back.

Eula would flop forward and land squarely on her face as Carroll yanked her arm back, rolling over and sitting back up. "I…suppose I should have let go as soon as you started moving. My apologies."

"You... okay...?" Carroll asks.

Eula nodded, before standing back up and dusting herself off. "...Oh, I should mention…I have to leave soon. Sorae suspects that finding a traitor noble’s wife will lead to justice for one of this land’s clans. Will you be alright while I am searching for her?"

Carroll froze for a moment. Yes, was the long and short answer. She did fine on her own. However, her emotion out of check as they were... a part of her sought to say, "No."

Waiting for her answer, Eula would give her the time she needed. But, would add one simple offer: "You could join me in the search but…I’m not sure if you would want to fight with your recent allergy attack."

"Allergy..." Carroll giggled, suddenly, covering her mouth, as she full-sent laughed; her cheeks were redder than ripe strawberries in fresh snow, as she brightened.

Eula would smile faintly, waiting for Carroll to compose herself…this time, at least, she was having a good time.

"You are adorable..." Carroll says, "I'm not doing anything, so if you need back up, I can provide support. Ask around, and come find me, if nothing pans out."

Eula nodded. "Very well. Thank you," the automaton said, before turning to depart.

"Hang on," Carroll says, spinning Eula to caress her cheek with her transformed hand, and press a kiss to the opposite cheek, "Thanks, for real."

Beaming, Carroll would flitter past Eula, and make for the door with a crystal-clear blush, as she retreated to compartmentalize her life.

Eula didn’t understand why Carroll would blush as she went on by, but would walk out after to see about what she could do to find any information on Sogen’s wife, and to seek out Sorae once she was done speaking with Alice.

Carroll would find herself something to do, specifically somewhere she could sharpen her edge. She was feeling particularly dull... and yet... happy, too…

---

As Eula departed, Alice would cross her arms, glaring at the warrior woman from before, "Let’s talk, you and I, because I’m missing a lot of details, including how I got this scar on my side, and a no-sense bitch like you won’t waste my time with superfluous details..."