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In Tower of Fable 21 days ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
Lorelai


The journey to the most noble and benevolent Lady Asgard's abode then prooved her accolades were well deserved as she met them on the path. Lorelai halted in her banter, the familiar warmth welling in her chest as she gazed down upon her lady, only to be curtailed by the twinge of regret that came upon seeing her smiling so angelically despite her knight's failings. She clutched at her chest, the scraping of metal clawing against her breastplate lasting a few moments before she grew terribly self conscious.

"You honor us with your presence, milday Eleonor." The knight said upon dismounting from Durgan's back, head bowed in gracious subservience before rising, a faint dusting of color across her cheeks upon hearing Akiko's words about her own status. "P-Please, I am not worthy of such titles. I am simply a soldier blessed to serve under her betters. Me, a lady? Truly your flattery is without end, poet."

Her great beast, lacking any such attachment to station and courtesy, trundled off ahead as the soldiers dispersed back to the village to resume their duties. Between the Judge and her dog, what were they needed for but an audience?

Acting on Eleonor's prompting the party made good time to their destination, the chateau was quickly reached and the procession was met by mirrored walls of maids. Solemn, stern, and some even sporting scars that wouldn't be found in the kitchen, yet still dressed fully as maids and bowed to them as they entered the abode. "This way everyone. The weather is too fine for meals in doors."

Lorelai led them on past stairwells and halls, emerging to the back of the chateau upon a broad patio of stone pavers that gave way to lush grass before everything the eye could see was swallowed by rolling waves of barley and the sky above. Furniture of wrought iron was laid out without a scuff mark to be seen, laden with fine table clothes and platters of fresh fruit and dainty sandwiches. The spread's color palatte was decidely red, with strawberries being in vast abundance.

Several maids flanked the patio doors, and to them Lorelai gestured while handing off her sword and standard. "Do not hesitate to ask for of the maids if you find yourself in need. Milady's generosity has been extended to you, so do not let propriety halt you here. Sit where you may."

Left unsaid but obviously implied by her taking the spot to the right of the head of the table was to not take Eleonor's spot. To any who so dared, they'd receive a glare fiercer then the beast Lorelai had ridden in upon could muster.


Kanbaru Otoko and ???


Hesitant steps and the creak of floor boards were all that Kanbaru could judge the town home by, hearing not a peep to tell her that anyone else was home. Fortune was favoring her with a lack of a criminal charges on this adventure, or so she'd like to believe, if she could make her way out undetected. With one hand balanced against the hall she crept onwards, wincing at the lack of stealhieness her attire conferred. By her guess this was a decent housing, no rot in the wood and, if cramped, it was built well enough not to blow over in the wind. Wherever they'd landed they at least chose a setting that had a fairly healthy fantasy aesthetic.

"No one home?" Kanbaru asked amusedly, poking her head into what seemed to her eyes to be a very basic kitchen. There were tables for cooking and tables for eating, a pot for cooking.and a pot for dirty dishes. Even to a student this was a spartan dining area and she couldn't imagine prepare cereal here, but that was probably the city girl in her talking.

"Some one is." To answer Kanbaru's question, a quiet little girl would appear from behind the currious guest. Making less noise than the dead air filling the house with the one exception of a couple of clicks in place as locks solidify themselves. A pair of shackles cuffing Fortuna to the handle of a loose and open door. The door itself was obviously not strong enough to withstand any well meanted attempt to break it apart, or even just spending a minute to jiggle the handle free from the shackle.

"And who, may I ask are you to appear here unnanounced? Hm~?" Her voice was soft and unthreatening. Though a tinge of demand still lingered in the directed question.

There was no shame in admitting Kanbaru leapt with fright at being startled by a child she hadn't heard a peep from. There was in coming down only to find her wristes bound without even seeing how they had come to be affixed to an ajar door. Instinct kicked in and she tugged, finding the door swung easy on joints that didn't look like they'd take more then a handful of good kicks to come loose. Satisfied on a superficial level she turned to the appearent resident, eyes widening a fraction to find a child. "What the? Sheesh kid, are you faster then light or just magic?"

The bluenette shrugged in the face of the tiny inquisitor, leaning against the door in a show of non-chalance marred by her previous fright. "What can I say, but that I was lost on the road of life and stumbled into someone's cupboard. I guess one as young as you wouldn'tt get it, but weird things can happen when you leave a tavern. People wake up in the strangest of places!"

"Ohho...." Giving the door a good solid kick, the once solid door chipped and splintered to the point it was barely hanging on its hinges. Only a defunct handle stayed clamped to the wrist of the bule woman. "Than you may leave. One of your intellegence surely must know not to snoop any furhter." Rather than to get into it further with the guest, the rogue simply walked away with as little noise as she entered with. Obviously her hiding place wasn't near as well hidden as she prefered; gathering her stash to move out once more.

It must be a local thing to show off casual feats of blinding speed and strength as this child was, otherwise Kanbaru had to assume she was trying to impress or intimidate Kanbaru. Lord only knew why she'd bother but it seemed she couldn't find a reason either as she dismissed the bluenette with a nary a glance back to make certain she left. With yet another flippant shrug she conjured up a bit of water with the rogue's back turned and pushed it into the shackles lock, where it flash froze and expanded rapid enough to smash the mechanism. "Well here's your toys back. Don't go slapping them on strangers willy nilly."

If Kanbaru had any idea where the other's were she'd have entertained the notion of further investigating this shady figure, but being alone as she was and with no actual certainty she could return to the Tavern on her own, it was best she skedaddle while the opening was still presenting itself. Loot only held value to the person who could return home with it, after all. So she navigated the house far more casually and traipsed out the front door without a care, innured enough from the home interior to not be awed by the village outside. A well travelled thoroughfare stretched in either direction before her, spurring her to pick a direction at random and keep her eyes open for an ecclectic band of merry travellers in weird outfits and with amazing hair.

Half an hour later, she found only one such individual, and she was sprawled out on the ground after seemingly running into a woman with a most strikingly familiar coat. Her curiosity aroused, Kanbaru approached the downed Rose and offered. "Heya Rose, was wondering where everyone got to. Making friends already?"
I'm not having any luck with my CS so i'll bow out here. Enjoy.


Smith's Rest | Transit Station
January 16th, 2677
Dark. Cramped. Dirty. Felt just like home, but with signifigantly more leg room. Agatha Smith enjoyed the space without reservation, stretching her legs out far and wide while in her hands was a ring. It was looped through a laynard Agatha kept tucked in her jumpsuit, but with the long journey to New Anchorage, her hands were begging for something to be occupied with. The metal was actually titanium for all the effort Albert put in to make it polish like silver. Her lips curled fondly, running her fingertip along the smooth interior till it bumped upon a single blemish.

"A good mechanic, but he didn't have the hands for jewelry." Agatha laughed, having many hours to get comfortable with the dirth of space around her. There was something about an aged pilot that had people wary of approaching, like she was liable to either stab them or hurl shit at them. I'm not that old. Ticker's going just fine and mind's dandy.

It was something she hadn't had an issue with before, snug and out of the way amidst her scrap yard. Well, formerly her scrap yard. Whoever wanted the mountains of junk was free to move in now, or so the sign she'd left said. She lingered on that thought but couldn't muster up any regrets to see it go.

The screech of deceleration preceeded the racket of shifting metal and groaning super structure, drawing her attention to the front of the train and the new chapter of her life ready to be written on the platform. She didn't hesitate to get to her feet, grasping an overhead rung for balance as she rode out the last stretch. Turning the ring about brough forth a socketed gem, it's yellow luster convincing sweet Albert it was Topaz.

It made for a better name for their first little one then Heliodor.

Pressing the wedding band to her lips, she let herself enjoy the coolness of her spouseness' craftsmanship before stowing the band beneath her lays of clothing, flush against her skin. Albert never would have wanted to see this, and Agatha wouldn't fault the man for his softness.


Stepping out of the train gave Agatha her first good view of the pilots now seperate from the auxillary personnal keeping everything else afloat. Her face was the very picture of wry amusement, from the minute quirk of her lips to the loose parade rest she assumed beside a rigid Solon. Mara's stiff posture and distinctive accent made her think of some of the more righteous mercenaries she'd known in the past. Sticking to their contracts like dogs with bones, mauling subordinates who threatened it with lazieness, greed, or good old fashioned incompetance.

As the line formed she put her attention straight ahead, finding two men overseeing the disembarkment of the train with a cool detachment that implied authority. The first she dismissed as quickly as Mathew had them, while the other was a handsome man. The kind the Companies would put on a promotional poster with him behind a desk with a great, basking in the radiance of everything the corporate ladder could reward you with.

Yet here was the man she'd taken the contract from. Someone either desperate or daring enough to let her on without a fuss. Michael Graham. Commander Michael Graham, if she felt like being proper.

"Agatha Smith. Eager to work with you." The aged pilot said to the small gathering, holding to her ease even if it set off the Solon twins. She was far too old to worry about the feelings of those almost a third her age over something so simple as an introduction.


Agatha Smith | Herakles| F | 58 | Fuller's Gulley, USA


Personal Dossier

Physical Description
Standing at 5’6”, Agatha has sharp features and a smile that could cut an NC to ribbons. Hair once flaxen has long since gone gray, which is pulled into a loose bun. Deep set green eyes and a pointed nose. Some people have told her she has the face of a 1st grade Math teacher who takes joy in assigning homework over the weekend. While not a weightlifter, she has a solid frame from years of hard work on the surface. Tends to wear a faded burgundy vest over an oil stained grey jumpsuit.

Personality Traits
Steadfast
Maternal
Good Humored
Stubborn
Guilt Ridden
Reckless

Effects of Polaris Shift
Perfect Synchronization yet to be achieved.

Personal History
Born and raised on the surface, Agatha always knew she was a special snowflake. At the bizarrely typical age of 14, she was found compatible to pilot an NC. Like so many before her she was drawn into piloting a bipedal weapon of mass destruction and had many mercantile adventures as an independent NC operator that aren’t worth recollection. The kinds of adventures that blur together but can often be summed up as, ‘Go to exotic locations, meet interesting people, and kill them’.

Throughout her ventures she had a loyal mechanic who would have followed her to hell and back by the name of Albert Smith. He wasn’t particularly handsome or clever, but he was loyal, sweet, and won over her affections through his perseverance. At 27 Agatha was married, by 28 she had a daughter and another on the way. Finding their means of employment too dangerous to foster a family, they decided it was prudent for Agatha to set aside the adventuring for a more sedentary lifestyle. Investing their considerable saving towards setting up shop in a scrapyard, Agatha began a new life as a mother and family woman.

For years, that was good enough. All the effort she had put forth piloting her NC was directed towards running the scrapyard and raising her kids. There wasn’t the same rush that came with piloting a multi-ton automaton, but she was satisfied for a time.

Then the children grew up, and left the nest to find out their own destinies. To be the special snowflakes that have fantastical opportunities all lined up for the taking if they only go out and claim them. Her husband of 29 years had grown ill and passed peacefully in his sleep.

That left Agatha, with a job she didn’t care for and no one relying upon her. Most would have considered this time to retire, settle down and indulge herself before the inevitable end, but she couldn’t. Even with the best years of her life in the past, she knew she had more to give. Firing up the old NC, which had been used as a makeshift crane for the scrapyard, she went out to recapture her lost glory, but found there wasn’t any demand for someone so long out of the game. The only ones as desperate as she was where the good folks down at New Anchorage, and they just so happened to be looking for any pilot that would come their way.

Tactical Preferences and Skills
Spatial Awareness: Between years of combat and decades of navigating shifting heaps of torn metal and forgotten scrap, Agatha has an excellent sense for the environment around her and any shifts within her proximity. Her youngest child joked she had a had a sixth sense for falling debris, but Agatha insisted she was just more willing to listen to all her sense then most.

Confrontational: There's no horsing around when the call to action arises. Up front and to the point, she'll tackle a problem head on even if it's not the most tactful or polite. It caused her no ends of trouble but she'd argue it's saved her life just as often.

Strong Constitution: Retirement didn't dull Agatha's drive to stay in top shape as much as she could. Finding healthy food wasn't the easiest thing away from the cities, but she maintained a routine workout regiment and abstained from the typical vices of alcohol and tobacco. Chocolate was a rarity saved for her daughter's birthdays, and the only coffee she drank was decaf. A commitment made all the more trying by the other member's of her family having no such compunctions, but it is a trial she has endured with good cheer and will power.

Notes
---
Neural Combatant

Codename
Herakles

Type

Squad Role
Assault

NC Description
A medium sized mech balancing armor and speed, differentiated from most bipedal NCs by it's emphasis on hands-free integrated weaponry and a reliance on laser weaponry. A lack of an expansive radiator system keeps the use of its laser weapons to short instances with longer cooldowns between engagements, prompting a reliance on close quarters combat and use of auxiliary missile launchers.

Weapons and Armaments
Dual Oscillating Laser Armatures: Each of Herakles' arms features two light laser batteries, firing in a three ray burst before alternating barrels to fire from, mitigating the heat build up somewhat while keeping the fire rate low enough there can be some semblance of accuracy. Due to the NC's arms being designed around the weapon's integration, it's firing angle in no way inhibits the free articulation of Herakles' hands.

Chassis Mounted Medium Laser: A heavier laser then the arm integrated variants effective at medium range, meant to hammer targets at a safer distance. Has greater penetrating power at the expense of being wildly inaccurate while moving unless at extreme close range, as well as limited rate of fire.

Four Quintuple Missile Arrays: Fitted to the shoulders with deployable armored canopy for added protection. Payload constitutes 10 airburst flechette missiles programmed to arch upwards and detonate at a designated range above ground for maximum dispersal. The remaining 10 missiles are willy pete obscure visuals and thermals on top of their intended purpose.

Reinforced Fists: Self evident in their purpose, but sporting added armor along the finger exteriors in order to improve striking power and protection from impact. Precludes the use of any delicate small arms by NC scales, though heavier armaments are feasible.
@Inkarnate


Agatha Smith | Herakles| F | 58 | Fuller's Gulley, USA


Personal Dossier

Physical Description
Standing at 5’6”, Agatha has sharp features and a smile that could cut an NC to ribbons. Hair once flaxen has long since gone gray, which is pulled into a loose bun. Deep set green eyes and a pointed nose. Some people have told her she has the face of a 1st grade Math teacher who takes joy in assigning homework over the weekend. While not a weightlifter, she has a solid frame from years of hard work on the surface. Tends to wear a faded burgundy vest over an oil stained grey jumpsuit.

Personality Traits
Steadfast
Maternal
Good Humored
Stubborn
Guilt Ridden
Reckless

Effects of Polaris Shift
Perfect Synchronization yet to be achieved.

Personal History
Born and raised on the surface, Agatha always knew she was a special snowflake. At the bizarrely typical age of 14, she was found compatible to pilot an NC. Like so many before her she was drawn into piloting a bipedal weapon of mass destruction and had many mercantile adventures as an independent NC operator that aren’t worth recollection. The kinds of adventures that blur together but can often be summed up as, ‘Go to exotic locations, meet interesting people, and kill them’.

Throughout her ventures she had a loyal mechanic who would have followed her to hell and back by the name of Albert Smith. He wasn’t particularly handsome or clever, but he was loyal, sweet, and won over her affections through his perseverance. At 27 Agatha was married, by 28 she had a daughter and another on the way. Finding their means of employment too dangerous to foster a family, they decided it was prudent for Agatha to set aside the adventuring for a more sedentary lifestyle. Investing their considerable saving towards setting up shop in a scrapyard, Agatha began a new life as a mother and family woman.

For years, that was good enough. All the effort she had put forth piloting her NC was directed towards running the scrapyard and raising her kids. There wasn’t the same rush that came with piloting a multi-ton automaton, but she was satisfied for a time.

Then the children grew up, and left the nest to find out their own destinies. To be the special snowflakes that have fantastical opportunities all lined up for the taking if they only go out and claim them. Her husband of 29 years had grown ill and passed peacefully in his sleep.

That left Agatha, with a job she didn’t care for and no one relying upon her. Most would have considered this time to retire, settle down and indulge herself before the inevitable end, but she couldn’t. Even with the best years of her life in the past, she knew she had more to give. Firing up the old NC, which had been used as a makeshift crane for the scrapyard, she went out to recapture her lost glory, but found there wasn’t any demand for someone so long out of the game. The only ones as desperate as she was where the good folks down at New Anchorage, and they just so happened to be looking for any pilot that would come their way.

Tactical Preferences and Skills
Spatial Awareness: Between years of combat and decades of navigating shifting heaps of torn metal and forgotten scrap, Agatha has an excellent sense for the environment around her and any shifts within her proximity. Her youngest child joked she had a had a sixth sense for falling debris, but Agatha insisted she was just more willing to listen to all her sense then most.

Confrontational: There's no horsing around when the call to action arises. Up front and to the point, she'll tackle a problem head on even if it's not the most tactful or polite. It caused her no ends of trouble but she'd argue it's saved her life just as often.

Strong Constitution: Retirement didn't dull Agatha's drive to stay in top shape as much as she could. Finding healthy food wasn't the easiest thing away from the cities, but she maintained a routine workout regiment and abstained from the typical vices of alcohol and tobacco. Chocolate was a rarity saved for her daughter's birthdays, and the only coffee she drank was decaf. A commitment made all the more trying by the other member's of her family having no such compunctions, but it is a trial she has endured with good cheer and will power.

Notes
---
Neural Combatant

Codename
Herakles

Type

Squad Role
Assault

NC Description
A medium sized mech balancing armor and speed, differentiated from most bipedal NCs by it's emphasis on hands-free integrated weaponry and a reliance on laser weaponry. A lack of an expansive radiator system keeps the use of its laser weapons to short instances with longer cooldowns between engagements, prompting a reliance on close quarters combat and use of auxiliary missile launchers.

Weapons and Armaments
Dual Oscillating Laser Armatures: Each of Herakles' arms features two light laser batteries, firing in a three ray burst before alternating barrels to fire from, mitigating the heat build up somewhat while keeping the fire rate low enough there can be some semblance of accuracy. Due to the NC's arms being designed around the weapon's integration, it's firing angle in no way inhibits the free articulation of Herakles' hands.

Chassis Mounted Medium Laser: A heavier laser then the arm integrated variants effective at medium range, meant to hammer targets at a safer distance. Has greater penetrating power at the expense of being wildly inaccurate while moving unless at extreme close range, as well as limited rate of fire.

Four Quintuple Missile Arrays: Fitted to the shoulders with deployable armored canopy for added protection. Payload constitutes 10 airburst flechette missiles programmed to arch upwards and detonate at a designated range above ground for maximum dispersal. The remaining 10 missiles are willy pete obscure visuals and thermals on top of their intended purpose.

Reinforced Fists: Self evident in their purpose, but sporting added armor along the finger exteriors in order to improve striking power and protection from impact. Precludes the use of any delicate small arms by NC scales, though heavier armaments are feasible.
Kanbaru Otoko


"Ugh, note to self, never Quick Run through portals." The bluenette rubbed her head, finding herself in total darkness, dusty wood beneath her as she rose from supine to standing. Blindly groping forward she felt more wood panelling, fingers running against walls till turning about to feel the wood rattle on a hinge. A bit of searching and she found the handle, stepping out into a hallway of what seemed a house down in similar enough aesthetic to Cait's tavern. "Fantasy world. Riiiight"

"Now where did everyone else go..."


Commander Lorelai


The knight nodded her head thoughtfully, an unfettered smile pulling at her lips and her eyes drifting shut to match Akiko's words to her own vision. Soon after she let out a laugh, shaking her head as she settled upon her saddle comfortably.

"Your candor is much appreciated. From what I've read in my academy days, the floating islands are certainly a mystery, but texts such as ours were rather lacking in poetry. Now I see it is perhaps that the lands above themselves are simply beyond the grasp of words. It is for the best then, that such mysteries will inspire others to unravel them and give meaning to their lives. A blessing for future story tellers.

Caught up in her whimsical notions of neighboring lands she didn't consider the peculiarity of tavern keeps extolling the beauty of her Lady, and Durgan wasn't hearing the thud of a lying heart to make trouble of the situation, even if the beast seemingly rolled its eyes all the same.

"My name? Oh, my goodness, how rude of me. I am Lorelai, a soldier of the Imperium and happily commisioned to the personal service of the most noble and just Lady Asgard. I sincerely hope you can sing tales of her beauty to the lands you travel next, for I have never known a lady fairer then she." Lorelai spoke with overwhelming passion, hands clasped over her chest in an unspoken prayer as she swayed too and fro. There was no snorting or breaking from formation, but the Black Pentacle would be able to note expressions ranging from fond indulgence to exacerbation in the men escorting them as they marched on.

"You'll see soon enough. Really I'm quite plain, a common woman in all things that matter in such arenas not pertaining to my Imperator given duties. I dare say the maid force make me look like an unwashed peasant in comparison to their grace and poise."
The ages are strictly 18-19, not something like middle age?
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