Don't worry about it! I'll need to take a little sabbatical for the evening as well -- I'm way too tired, haha. I do have quite a bit of time in the morning, so I'll post then! Sorry!
Spectral Procreation Member
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Posted. Sorry about that! I was busy most of the day.
I think I'm getting the hang of it. Didn't help that I was off the RPing wagon for a while before this, haha.
Kris frowned internally at the girl before him. He watched as her eyes shifted constantly, and her stance wobbled from side to side. It was like she was putting everything into disarming him. When she answered his question with such energy and cheer, he couldn't help but avert his eyes to avoid another blush from invading the sanctity of his proud face.
Then, she grabbed his hand. Kris's efforts were for naught. He flinched and made a weak effort to draw his hand back, but she had grabbed it with both of hers. Her face was filled with determination and cheer. **"A-ah..."** he stammered. Then, he coughed to cover the tremble in his voice, and jump his brain back into action.
Indeed, she was here, like he was, to become a Knight of Altea. Could it be, perhaps, that she intended on disarming him? If she couldn't do it by striking him the back, then she must have refocused her efforts on unnerving him mentally somehow -- perhaps through some sort of ancient spell. His grandfather made him study magic, to an extent, in order to counter it if it should be used against him. Kris felt confident that this was certainly a possibility. After thanking his grandfather mentally for such foresight, he realized that he had to be the strong in order to resist this fiendish magic. He forced his eyes back on the girl, but could not hold direct eye contact. Instead, he found that staring at the space between her eyes would allow him to seem strong and resist the witch's magic orbs, even as she maintained hold over him with her demonic, backstabbing, warm, soft hands.
**"Yes, you would be...correct."** he said. The quiver was gone from his tone, but it still sounded as if he were holding back a gulp. His eyes had gone from wary to half-panicked. **"I've also come here to become a Knight of Altea, and help Prince Marth. It's what I was born to do."**
Talking eased his tension slightly, and loosened his expression. However, his hand started to sweat -- one more so than the other.
Posted!
Blech, I still feel short. Hopefully it'll get better after I get used to him, haha.
A strike from behind! Kris staggered forward, dropping his canteen and coughing up the water that had been sucked down the bad part of his throat. He stopped, and steeled himself. He couldn't keep his guard down, not even if he was choking! **"I-I'll not be defeated by a c, a cowardly trick like that!"** he hacked, still working out the last bit of water. He turned to face his assailant, eye-to-eye, ready to--
Pause. His gaze shifted down to meet hers. This was no dirty cutthroat in a black hood. It was a girl fair in face and limber in body. A fire welled up in his cheeks, but a vision of his grandfather's face formed in its smoke. His words rang inside of Kris, louder than they ever had before: *Prince Marth's enemies are yours, and they can be anywhere, anyone.* He shook the heat from his face. His cough had subsided.
**"I apologize for raising my voice."** he said, after a stiff bow. **"Are you also here to become a Knight of Altea?"**
He may have tried to put a sweet slant to his words, but his eyes were sour, wary. He couldn't help it. He still saw through the smoke of his grandfather's spirit.
Hey! Sorry, but I'm hanging out with a friend, and it's hard to type up a post with him yapping on like he does, haha.
I'll post in a few hours, after he passes out.
Ouch. Yeah, I figured it was something like that. Freya doesn't quite understand such things, though, so it'll be thoroughly confusing to her.
Freya was a bit confused by Duncan's response. She was just giving him a hard time about the gun, but he did seem to have a sort of sadness about him. Untouchable? Curious. What kind of things had he touched to have that kind of mindset? Her thoughts, broken as they already were, fell apart when Syrus started speaking.
Freya cast her eyes toward Syrus for his self-introduction, sizing him up as he did so. Rank six? Uh, what did ranks means again? Hers was three? Two? Four? Something lower, but she wasn't about to fall in the lines of any kind of hierarchical numbers. Those were the worst kinds of numbers, besides the ones that came next to shapes she never quite understood. Anyways, two gunblades, huh? A serious case of overcompensating, more like. And Phoenix. Phoenix? Where had she heard about that before? Some kind of fire bird that grants wishes. Rebirth, relive, and redie. She didn't like that. She wanted what she killed to stay dead. Fight, kill, and die. That's how it should be. Mucking with that wasn't fair.
**"Well, nice to meet ya,"** she replied concisely. It was all she could get in before the topic turned over to the contact.
Freya snapped shut her talking ears and opened up her listeners for a moment, because honestly she hadn't read any memos, reports, or the words of people talking directly to her face. It was mission stuff -- stealth mission stuff -- and she shut down until something interesting popped up. And something interesting did pop up, or rather, fizzle in through the intercom.
**"Pheeeew,"** she whistled at Syrus. **"In bed with the Galbadians, huh? Now I'm interested! Syrus Cromwell, Seed Rank six, castrated by court martial. Rolls right off the tongue, onto the chopping block."**
A year after the War of Shadows came to a close, the island nation of Altea was recruiting a new force of knights. Unlike other nations at the time, who might appoint knights from their status or wealth, Altea only sought skill and loyalty in its knights. Anyone could volunteer to become a cadet and rise to knighthood, if they passed the rigorous training and thorough lectures.
One hopeful cadet approached the entrance to Altea Castle's training grounds with a calm stride that belied the broad grin on his face and excited twinkle in his eyes. He was a tall young man with brown hair long enough for the wind to brush, and the tanned skin of someone who's spent most his life outdoors.
He stopped and took a breath, eyes scanning the gray stone gate up ahead. Beyond it led to the patch of green that all of Altea's knights had been trained on throughout history. **"Today, I join them."** he declared to himself. He felt his fists clench and tighten. **"Kristopher, Knight of Altea. It sounds good on the tongue."** He swallowed and smacked his lips, then came to another conclusion. **"Some water also sounds good."**
The sun and the walk had salted his body and soaked through his blue tunic. Licking his dry lips, he pulled a canteen from his leather belt and turned it up, draining every last bit of water in preparation for the day to come. With his eyes closed, savoring the liquid flowing into his parched throat, he at once became quite unaware of his surroundings.
Hey guys. I'll probably shoot out a post for kicks and riddles tomorrow sometime.
Oh, and welcomes to akirashadow and dooly! I'm new here as well, so if you ever need some interaction, don't be afraid to give Freya a shout.
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