( same case different time frame—school caught up to me but im back to do some writing. expect some replies for tomorrow, i’m going to reply to every thread i owe from accounts that haven’t been sniped down. if you’d prefer to make a new thread you can message me. ily all sm )
In this world of white, the snow remembers your footsteps. Is this what you want? Is this where your wish will take you, further and further? You must remember yourself as you continue forward.
The Fields of Theama call for you. In their crystal city of ice, the reflections of things familiar and unfamiliar will rise to greet you like an old friend. Venture inwards and listen to your soul. You must brave the maze and return with something from your own world. Reach into the looking glass, abandoning riches and temptations. What you pull out will be your own, and only your own.
This place seems interesting enough. I suppose I'll stick around and see what sort of trouble I can get into.
{♠} —; The air of the night drifts in through a small crack in her window, cold winds breezing past the woman. Her sleep is restless, shivering and tossing and turning, until she wakes with a start. She brushes unkempt hair out of her face, staring down at her hands and thinking to herself a moment before staring out of her window. There’s a glint—a light somewhere outside. She feels unnaturally drawn to it, as if some distant star is beckoning her.
{♠} —; Rising from bed, Sonya makes her way to her restroom, washing her face quickly before brushing her hair and donning her usual clothes. As she heads out she puts on a fur lined coat and equips the glass sword she’d made herself so long ago. Just in case she needed it.
{♠} —; Quickly she strides towards the Fields of Theama, watching as the footsteps she leaves behind disappear in the light snowfall. Just wonderful, she’d have to figure out another system to get herself out of here. She thinks to herself some, waiting on the outside of the Fields before settling on crudely etching in markings with her sheathe. It’s not very graceful or dignified, but it’s certainly smart.
{♠} —; As she furthers inside of the labyrinth, she makes sure to keep her gaze fixed ahead, and tries not to be distracted. It is to no avail however, and out of the corner of her eye she swears that she sees around her that shouldn’t be there. Pictures of things that feel so familiar, yet are so distant. She tries to resist the temptation, but she can’t. Her figure kneels for a moment, peering down into a plants surface as sunny memories overtake her.
{♠} —; She’s reminded of her home, and she can hear voices. Joyful sounds—celebration. Was this perhaps an event in her home taking place? No, it couldn’t be. Her mind focuses a bit more, and she sees clearer images—is this...Eidolon? She’s enraptured by this vision, it all seems so joyous and uncharacteristic aside from the festivities—and she’s right. Soon enough it all descends into chaos. Distant screams and violent visions envelop her mind, and she’s unable to bear the sight, wrenching herself from the flower and falling into a bush, crushing it underneath her.
{♠} —; “Tsk—shit.” she hisses. “Ugh...that’s going to stain…”
{♠} —; She tries to bring herself up, wincing in pain as she stares at her hands. Cut, and bleeding. This was dangerous—she shouldn’t have come here alone. Her eyes focus back on the way she came in, and she gets up and slowly walks. And she continues to do so, on and on, until she realizes. Her markings are gone.
{♠} —; There’s a fleeting panic inside of her brain, and she wants to cry out for help. No. That wasn’t her. None of this….was her. She was like her sisters—marching to her own beat. She didn’t need anyone, and she could handle this. Her breathing steadies, one drawn out after the other until she stretches her back and finds resolve in her heart again. She won’t give up.
{♠} —; Caution thrown to the wind, she begins running. The crunch of snow underneath her feet is only matched with the sound of her blade swinging, breaking several of the flowers and looking glasses that tempted her. If this maze was trying to get to her it wouldn’t succeed—she’d just tear the entire place apart if she had to. Her heart knew what was right after all, and it wasn’t long until her heart has finally taken her to the core of this place.
{♠} —; It was beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking. Everything was absolutely serene, and there was the shine she swore she saw earlier. Beckoning her again. Her hands let go of her blade, and she gingerly walks up, praying that this wouldn’t be another trick of the maze. Some other vision.
{♠} —; Hands rise to gently hold onto the looking glass, and Sonya peers inside of it. It’s….it’s the desert. This was it—this was her home. Or….at least where she was before she found her home. Her work for Grieth was just to make her own money, but by gods did it have its own special little perks and benefits. Luxurious food for days, and riches beyond her imagination. It would be easy to just have it all again.
{♠} —; Her hand rises to touch the surface, and she feels it sink in. It’s warm. Her attention snaps to the sensation of warmth in the cold, and she thinks about how lovely she could live if she just grabbed a few gems from inside. She didn’t have to help people around here—it wasn’t her choice to end up here after all. She could just….
{♠} —; No.
{♠} —; There’s something ringing in her head—something calling to her. The voice of a girl. She tries to focus on it, was it...her sisters? No, her sisters were stern, and then cold and unforgiving once Jedah was through with them. Was it Celica? No, it couldn’t be—while gentle, she knew that the princess’ voice was not that timid. It made her think of someone she met recently. Ophilia, that friend of Primrose’s….
{♠} —; There’s a dull aching in her heart, and she realizes who she hears. A reflection on her former years—a sweet girl, soon embittered by a world that couldn’t care less for her. She feels around, the warmth of the desert soon replaced by the soft curly hair of a sleeping young girl. She hears her dainty snores trailing from the looking glass, and she knows that she is safe. For now, that was enough, and it made her content. With one final look into the glass, she smiles at the sleeping girl, and leans in close to whisper.
{♠} —; “Sweet dreams, little Genny. I’ll come back for tea one day again, whenever I can get out of here. I promise.”
{♠} —; With a confident step, she pulls her hand back, the looking glass ejecting her from it as well, as she clenches on to an object. It’s hard to look, but once her vision adjusts once more to the lighting, she looks in her hands. Genny’s hair bow. Softly, the woman chuckles, and then erupts in laughter. This was what was calling to her? She felt silly, but also content with it. Lifting her hair up and fixing the accessory to her head, she turns around.
{♠} —; “I’ll bring this back to you, sorry you’ll have to buy a new one until then.” she says, taking her steps towards the exit. There’s a renewed feeling inside of her, something that gives her some more hope. And trusting her gut instincts, she finds herself a way out of the Fields of Themea, some new spark inside of her, glimmering like a star that would have been enveloped in the void of night.
Even with the situation as it is, she can’t help smiling as Sonya talks – it truly was a relief to be out here with someone familiar. Ophilia wouldn’t let it show, of course, but with the village and the world outside it so dangerous as things were now… she couldn’t help relaxing slightly. It wasn’t as if she didn’t trust the people of Eidolon to protect her – far from it. They had been nothing but supportive, and she only wished to help as much as she could. Yet with those precious to her outside of her line of sight, she…
Well, with the memories she came here with – the wish she had made – perhaps it was natural. Of course, she feared them becoming hurt. Of course, she feared never seeing them again. She was hardly close to Sonya, but she would feel awful if anything were to happen to her.
At least one person, it seemed, would not disappear without her seeing it.
“Well, I could hardly live with myself if I didn’t offer my support, could I? I’m sure you feel the same, Sonya.” Looking out to the landscape, she clasps her staff a little tighter. “I was hoping to gather some food. With this many people injured, we don’t have nearly enough to sustain them while they recover…”
{♠} —; “Oh, you’ve become an expert on my character?” she says, smiling coyly at her company. “Perhaps I’ve been letting my guard down more than usual—I should get Primrose to brush up my acting skills with private lessons perhaps then.” her eye looks the staff up and down.
{♠} —; She’d seen many in her world hold such things—both as walking sticks and as weapons. Did Ophilia possess that type of ability too? Was she also some kind of sage like Boey or Kliff was? Given her nature though, she was probably more like Genny, or Silque. Between those two though, definitely more like Genny.
{♠} —; “Pray tell then, Ophi.” she begins, almost tempted to call her little sheep. “Are you planning on only gathering the fruits of the earth—vegetable and such? Or are we also here to hunt then?”
{♠} —; “What surprises do you have up your sleeve?”
with the rest of the people walking about the kitchen, it had been rather easy to sneak in and get to work himself. spices weren’t something that he was intimately acquainted with, and he certainly didn’t know about eidolon’s. it would be a learning experience– something that he was shy to admit was enjoyable for him. kind of hard to open an educational establishment when you don’t have the mettle to put your own nose to the grindstone and study, right?
with that in mind, it would have been smart of him to follow the instructions being passed around to perfect replication, right? but ah, he’s been feeling a bit too bold these days, hasn’t he? it would explain why he would think that working in a dust-filled environment didn’t need any form of protection. sure, there had been a few artful dodges, a few times where he just worked away in his own corner, but eventually, his luck would have run out. hubris does that to people.
“ ah. “
“ well, i’m not sure. “ the smile is definitely unexpected, given the situation, but he offers it anyway, to reassure both the woman he’s hearing and himself. ozpin’s eyes are closed, refusing to move in case of agitating any possible materials on his features. ( maybe some of those aren’t freckles! who knows! ) “ to be safe, would you mind leading me to the sink? it’d be unfortunate if there was any cajun. “
{♠} —; She shakes her head, and has half a mind to tug on the youth’s ears to chastise him. As she thinks about such a thing though she realized just how she’d resemble the caretakers are the priory. No thank you. Instead she offers a chuckle in place of a smile, putting down the spices to take his hand.
{♠} —; “Of course I don’t mind. I would certainly hate to have hurt someone by accident, and if I do then I know I should rectify that mistake with grace.” she begins to lead him over. “Cajun, huh? I’m not sure if the weather here would permit the right herbs to be blended for that particular specialty—but if there was then it’s a damn shame I haven’t had any.”
{♠} —; She takes him over to the sink, turning the faucets for the water to flow out. She lets him rinse his eyes out, but tells him not to open his eyes. Quickly moving around, she produces a towel from one of the cupboards, wetting and wringing it out as she gently dabs it over his face. So some of those...weren’t freckles then.
{♠} —; “Dear me, there was more that landed on you then initially believed. Open them now, one after the other and let me know how it is. I’ll be damned if I leave you to your own machinations.” she pauses. “Oh, pardon my tongue. I’ve been around some sultry folk as of late.”
Touya absolutely despised the whistles, particularly due to the ungodly whistling sounds they made. There weren’t many things that he feared, yet those monsters were certainly one of them. As such, he tried to silence them quickly, before that sound could be made.
He had long since lost track of how long he had been out fighting the monsters, yet based on his low supplies, perhaps it would have been wise to return soon. Briefly turning his head to check his right shoulder, he could see a small patch of blood seeping through the bandage. Sure, the injury was small enough for him to treat himself, yet he definitely needed more bandages.
And with a sigh, he turns towards the village, taking a few steps before hearing a sound close by. Turning back, he saw a group of the monsters swarming around someone else, yet he couldn’t quite make out who it was. Regardless, he ran into action, his footsteps managing to draw the attention of one of the monsters.
“Watch out! Behind you!” Drawing attention of the other two, he silences one of them with his katana once within range. Yet at the same time, doing so brings himself close enough for one of the monsters to try to attack him. Before it’s claws got any closer to his throat, he turns his right shoulder towards it, realizing his mistake when pain shot through his shoulder once more. Gasping in pain, he jumps back a few steps, covering his shoulder with his hand. Perhaps this was karma for being a little too reckless.
{♠} —; Sonya’s confident in her skills—both magical and physical. She was never a fan of brute strength, however, and as time goes on she clicks her tongue in aggravation. One after another, these fiends popped up. She was growing tired, and she was surrounded. Just where had her group gone?
{♠} —; She draws in deep breaths, ready to parry another blow as she hears a voice call out from the distance. Some back up was always welcomed. Heeding the warning, she ducks down and turns, watching as the newcomer quickly dispatches a unit with a darting blow. Very skilled.
{♠} —; Her attention is turned back to the other she was fighting, and she fends it off. As she finishes it, she sees the injury on the other, and watches the whistle approach closer. Its claw are raised for an attack, and she’s unsure of where to gauge the boy’s skills. Not even a moment of hesitation, she jumps in front of him, the claws raking her arm as she lets out a small yelp.
{♠} —; “Ngh!” she holds it back with more strength and one would think she possessed. “Just what do you think you’re doing, attacking a young one like this and ruining my outfit.” she raises her weapon, aiming for the head but only striking through the thick crystal somewhat. There’s a power struggle. “Just die already.”
Qrow can’t really stand this tense almost silence thing going on. It fell over this little group the second they set out to gather these herbs- one or two townsfolks carrying baskets with him and this lady Sonya watching their backs- and it just doesn’t set right. Sure, the huntsman feels fine volunteering for this. It’s just that he can hear the distant sound of whistles when the wind blows a certain way. Also allowing all this underlying nervousness to just continue goes against every remnant survival instinct he has.
Thus, while the villagers start gathering, looking up and around every few seconds as if trying to sense death before it bares down on them, the man throws out a question to his fellow volunteer.
“You think this is going to be for medicine, that alchemy stuff, or both?”
Sure it’s a question better answered by the people actually picking the herbs, but disturbing or startling them seems like a bad idea. Besides, half the fun is the guessing. Don’t get him wrong though; red eyes still scan the edges of the small meadow and the tree line diligently. Qrow Branwen is not slacking off.
He just rather drown out the sound of that damn whistling.
{♠} —; She narrows her eyes at the initial word, smiling as she looks off into the distance. What was it with that word—it always made silence seem more awkward than it should be. She cranes her neck over to the villagers collecting material, trying to discern what they were grabbing before shrugging her shoulder gently.
{♠} —; “I think their focus is on medicinal product—with the danger of the whistles on the horizon. I’d be concerned if it wasn’t.” she comments, stretching to the side. “I did some collecting before during other events but it wasn’t quite for something like this.” She lets the silence sit for a little bit, before she begins to pick up conversation again.
{♠} —; “You’ve been here for quite some time, haven’t you?” she asks. “I’ve seen you come about, here and there. Does it get easier? It’s been pretty alright for how long I’ve been here but....well, I don’t quite feel whole without some of the things I used to be able to do, so it’s difficult waiting so long. Perhaps you have some wisdom you can give me.”
For once Zidane had been quiet, his face abnormally solemn as he listened to their mission. Fiends attacking the village—it wasn’t a strange concept, but he’d been hopeful about avoiding that particular scenario. Already he’d chosen a second dagger from the armory, and he twisted it between his fingers while he waited.
But that all changes when the woman approaches. Ever the crowd-pleaser, the dagger immediately gets sheathed ( an awkward fit on his belt ) and a grin breaks out across his face. Older but no less beautiful for it, teasing, ready to battle—she was a knockout, and she was so out of his league.
Did she have to call him silly boy though?
❛ Worried about me? ❜ It was here that he dropped from his perch, twisting and landing neatly on his feet ( showing off, of course ) and he jabs a thumb to his chest. ❛ Y’know, where I come from, we have a whole contest to see who can take out the most monsters—you’re looking at the champion right here! There’s no one here more ready than me! ❜
{♠} —; Full of life and humor, Sonya smiled at the other, her hand coming up to twirl a lock of hair. She takes in the youthful exuberance, glad that at least someone around here could be larger than life. In times like this, even if seriousness was needed, so was silliness. There’s recognition in the mischievous soul she sees before her, and she finds kinship in it.
{♠} —; “Oh? Is that right now? I wonder just what manner of beast you’ve seen then. Where I come from, there were many terrible things like those ghastly whistles that are appearing.” she leans in, hand held up beside her face as if she’s telling a secret. “Terrors, they were called—undead risen up against us. Along with these horrid tentacled creatures with many eyes.” she shudders.
{♠} —; “I digressed from the question—yes I’m worried, but that stands for everyone here. Though, I’m sure I’d miss a handsome face like yours around.” she teases, her hand now reaching out to shake. “The name’s Sonya.”
He has no problems with following her lead— she does seem to have a better idea of their situation than he does, and is perfectly content to focus more on being aware of their surroundings while they walk instead. He judges the jump with a slight scrunching of his face before jumping in after her; a muffled grunt before straightening back up. So far so good.
He’s never been claustrophobic, and he certainly hopes that doesn’t start now, but he can’t help a murmur of agreement at her statement ( perhaps it is not caves, simply something about this one in particular that fills him with a sense of dread— he shakes that feeling off, when he think about the fact that this is surely not as bad as what he has faced before ). “A shame we have nothing to mark our way back…we’ll have to remember, then.”
A pause at the noise, a tilt of his head as he tries to determine directions— left…? The echoes certainly muddles with his ability to be certain of much; gives a nod of agreement to her assessment, and— oh. That would explain the feeling of dread he had felt, the ever faintly lingering scent of darkness makes him sick ( it might be their natural scent causing that, on second thought ). Focus, he needs to focus on where it is strongest and hope they won’t be led into a trap. “…Left. I think it’s coming from the left. Let’s hurry.”
{♠} —; She contemplates over their predicament for a moment, truly thinking about how they’d approach getting out after. Her sword drags along the ground, before she lifts it up to stop the noise. She didn’t have a solution to that, but she knew her memory was pretty good. Needed to be after all, especially since she had studied magic.
{♠} —; “Normally I’d be able to score marks on the walls with fire, or something like that—but as a cruel twist of fate those kinds of abilities were....taken upon my arrival.”
{♠} —; When he takes a pause to determine the source of the whistles, she raises a brow. What, did he have some sort of built-in detector for this kind of thing? Very amusing. She followed the lead though, beginning onwards to the left. It wouldn’t take too long until they caught up.
{♠} —; “Look, there it is.” she says quietly, her head peaking around the entrance. “I only see one, I think it’s trying to recuperate. I’ll go left, you go right, we strike as one?” her sword slips into its sheathe, hand reaching behind her for the metal rod. “Unless you’ve another suggestion?”
While she didn’t have Olberic’s sheer strength, Sonya certainly packed quite a punch. Each of her strikes were powerful, and it was clear that Primrose wouldn’t gain the advantage easily during their friendly scuffle. The word “friendly” was a little misleading from Sonya’s part, though–had their swords been real weapon, Primrose might actually be fearing for her safety.
Still, the dancer held on, parrying each and every attack, though never being able to place one of her own. A little cocky, Primrose replies to Sonya’s taunts.
“I’ve learned one or two things about the blade as well! Bring it!”
Despite her words, it took only a few more strikes for her opponent to get the better of her, and with a final overhead swing that she was too slow to parry, her weapon is dropped.
Her hair disheveled, panting lightly, she laughed.
“Alright. You win this time, Sonya.”
Not wanting to rub her pained wrist out of pride, Primrose switched her wooden blade from one hand to the other.
“We can have another go, if you’d like. You seemed quite into it.”
{♠} —; The battle is soon won, and Sonya’s lighthearted laughter fills the air. She’s feeling mirthful, and the refreshing air of the Vivienne Festival rejuvenates her cold heart. It’s days like these that make her remember fond memories, like the union of Alm and Celica that revived Valentia as a whole. What nostalgia she was feeling.
{♠} —; “You’re quite the sparring partner Primrose—I knew you had told me before that you’ve had training, but I still wasn’t sure quite what to expect. I’m glad to see that your skills still match up to your beauty as I’ve known it to.”
{♠} —; She takes a moment to pause, watching the dancer switch hands. Was she always ambidextrous? There’s not many people she knew who were great with both hands, but if anyone was she should have known that Prim was. She’s happy to have another round, but she also sees some room for fun.
{♠} —; “Here’s an idea. Perhaps before we take to our next round, I can help you with your form. You’re an extraordinary fighter, but you slip into habits with the style you’re more comfortable with. Would you mind at all terribly if I take your hand?” she asks, drawing closer as she circles behind. “A one on one sword lesson session.”
Primrose took a few moments to consider the girl in front of herself. Similar masks, eh? Sonya may have been right, but simply asking her to drop it wasn’t quite going to cut it. She tapped her finger on the table.
“There is only so much you can hide, is there?”
“Of course, I’ve received education in how to be a proper noblewoman. From my parents and from private teachers alike.” It wasn’t like this part of her life was a secret per se–it was more that it was painful to think about. A different pain than the one she experienced in Sunshade. “My father said I would become as fierce on the battlefield as I would be in a ballroom. I’m sure I would have had great success as the head of a noble family.”
Her tapping stopped.
“If your family name fades to obscurity and there is no more need for you to rule, the matter is taken out of your own hands. Taking up dancing was much easier afterwards.”
Primrose’s words were blue, laced with bitterness.
“Perhaps this sits better with you.” She knew that Sonya meant no harm, so her abrasive answer annoyed even herself. She had spoken of her past with her previous comrades, but it had been quite a while since then. It was always a little rough to open up.
{♠} —; That seemed just more like it. Yes, the support was there, but so was the fact she was a noblewoman who had a name to uphold. Responsibilities, duties, the burden of a family name weighing your shoulders because you were simply born. That was the royalty she was familiar with.
{♠} —; “And so your family name faded to obscurity then? Such a shame, one can tell by the way you walk you’re quite the regal woman. I imagine you’d be able to revive your family name if anyone really knew who you were.” but as life has it, sometimes that just isn’t permitted.
{♠} —; “Though, sometimes it is easier to leave your family name behind. Sometimes the burden of your family’s name is too much.” she sighs. “My father, Jedah, he was the high priest of an order called the Duma Faithful. Our family was rather renowned in our country because of it, as his ties to the king—to the world, was great.”
{♠} —; She holds the mug in her hand, tapping the side a little. Her mood shifted somewhat, bitterness entering her expression. The refined aura she kept up dropped, and her eyes looked dulled. She stared down into the drink, continuing.
{♠} —; “Jedah sullied what our family once stood for. Brave, kind, wise. That arrogant fool tossed aside his pride to follow a false vision, to give in to a power that he did not understand. I waited all those years inside the priory waiting for my father to return for us.....and then he didn’t. I left, and then my sisters.....long gone.”
{♠} —; There’s a silence in the air for a bit, hanging, as she composes herself. She didn’t feel she would have to mention exactly what happened to her sisters, but perhaps opening up would make Prim feel comfortable that she asked the question before. One can’t just take after all, one must give too.
{♠} —; “But that was a lifetime ago, and here we are now. I say, the drinks and food in this place are much better than I expected from a humble village. There’s a certain...rustic charm, I suppose.”
“A priory, eh?” Primrose showed a healthy amount of surprise, although her tone stayed playful. “I would never have guessed, with how you present yourself now. The term ‘unruly child’ seems well deserved.” The dancer continued, a little quieter. “I admire people who choose their own path in life. It takes a lot of strength to stay true to yourself.”
Without missing a beat, though, she chimed with a smile.
“Telling you about myself is the least I can do, isn’t it?” She took a brief pause, thinking about where to start. “I was born into a noble family,” she began. “My father ruled over a city, and I was supposed to take over his duties when I came of age.” She chuckled. “I’ve always had a passion for performing arts, though. It was a relief that my parents were supportive of what I wished to do.”
There was no need to go more in-depth than this, right?
{♠} —; Primrose’s unreserved judgement on Sonya elicited a chuckle from her core. A woman who didn’t mind speaking her mind, how lovely. She nods her head along in agreement with the following statement, and takes another sip of her drink, leaning back in her chair to cross her arms and rest them.
{♠} —; “Oh?” she says, eyebrows raised. “Is that so?”
{♠} —; Her eyes narrow, and she looks her over. There’s something familiar—and it’s not just the fact she was incredibly beautiful with a lively vivacious figure. It was that chuckle. That oh-so-dismissive wave that Sonya herself had previously done to strange men who asked of her past.
{♠} —; “So you mean to tell me, daughter of a courtier, that you, daughter of a noble family, took up performing arts and they were supportive?” she lifts one arm, twirling a lock of hair before pointing Primrose from top to bottom.
{♠} —; “Impossible. Supportive or not, other families would see you as brazen, and that’s the sort of thing a loving family would prefer not see their children go through. There’s more to you than meets the eye, just like me. You’re a good performer, but the masks we wear are all too similar. Let’s shed our skin, just once this lifetime, as kindred spirits.”
It is unsettling, these things— monsters, one might say. He’d laugh at such, monsters ( well, he supposes, demons take shape differently to everyone… that is not here and now ). They are wretched things, nothing more, nothing less; it is easiest to think of them as such when considering striking them down. Ignore the eerily human-esque qualities of them, he has done such before, think of your own survival first.
He is busy watching and contemplating if he should head out to help— head jerks up a little upon hearing someone beckon to him. He moves closer as a narrowed gaze follows the direction she points to, acknowledgement of her with a small nod. He can certainly handle that much.
“Sure, sure. Let’s hurry, then— I’d rather deal with them before they can regroup with the rest. Shouldn’t bite off more than we can chew. Closing them off would be a nice bonus.” Pride would normally demand more of him, but he has no interest in taking too nasty of a hit from one of these things.
{♠} —; Sonya nods her head once he gives her an okay, and begins to lead the way immediately. She kneels down, placing a hand to help balance her as she jumps down into the small entrance to Mourner’s Grotto. The fall’s not far, but the cold definitely didn’t make the jump feel any better. She shudders.
{♠} —; “I hate caves.” she says flatly, one hand placed on a wall. “This system is pretty big from what I read, let’s try to remember how which ways we turn.”
{♠} —; There’s not much wait between entering the cave, and hearing the first anguishing cry. Deep from within the enclosure the cries came, and Sonya immediately puts her ear up to the wall. Which direction...left, or right?
{♠} —; “It’s tough to distinguish with how the echoes go—I believe that it went left judging with how the walls vibrate, but that could be the cave system tricking my senses. I don’t suppose you have a stronger sense than mine, or something like that? Those things did smell like corpses.”
{♠} —; Mid-battle was a poor time to have this happen. These monsters were proving themselves as a worthy adversary. With each hit that Sonya dealt, she could feel the vibrations reverberate back into her, and had more of a tough time than usual shaking off the after affects what with the cold and all. She knew she wouldn’t be able to use this for much longer.
{♠} —; She’s frozen for a moment—put into a stupor from the piercing wails that welled deep within the crystal beasts. It draws closer to her, and she can barely regain her senses enough to drive her sword through it, watching as another cuts through from behind. Great. Now she owes someone a favor.
{♠} —; Sonya shoves the whistle off of her, digging her sword into the ground to support herself. It takes her a moment or two to catch her breath before she mumbles a quick thank you. Her eyes flickered between her sword and the stranger, before she manages a few more words.
{♠} —; “Your weapon, how is it holding up? These....things have been wearing mine down. I’m afraid it may split at any given moment.” she reaches for the metal rod strapped to her back, thankful she had a back up. Though she’d prefer not to use such a....brute weapon. “Are there many more we’ve left to find for the day?”
{♠} —; Of course. Somehow one way or another she ends up finding her way around protecting other people. That, or she ends up gathering materials. This time it was a little bit of both however she at least knew her company. That much was fine with her at least.
{♠} —; They’ve been wandering the outskirts for a while, and she’s keeping an eye out for whistles. She adjusts her blade, casting the reflection of light from the blade into the forest outside. So far, so safe. She looks at Ophilia.
{♠} —; “So....what exactly are we gathering here? Did you sign yourself up to do this, or was it simply convenient?”
{♠} —; Sonya swears that fighting these things puts a chill down her spine. It’s not even the cold like it usually is. She’s gotten this feeling from the Terrors, and she knows the feeling well. The whistles are the same breed of undead that the terrors were. How disgusting.
{♠} —; She’s watching the group as they advance, turning her head. Oh...she better get that one wandering off—not alone though. She tells Frederika, and she’s given the permission to go with one other person. Sonya scans everyone before she calls over to the nearest person, pointing off in the direction.
{♠} —; “There’s a few headed off in that direction. It’s the Mourner’s Grotto, mostly the source of where they’re coming from. I think they’re running back where they came from. Everyone’s dealing with the ones out here, let’s go clear out some in there. Perhaps we can even close off where they’re coming from.”
{♠} —; Banding together with a group to go out hunting was an exciting prospect. She’s always taken aback from the kinds of people she meets in Eidolon. Today was not going to be any different at all. She’s being briefed on where they should be going, before she finds her eye wandering. Was that boy...upside down?
{♠} —; She goes from being distracted to being curious. Great, now she’s gonna wander the tundra with someone strange. Oh well, she figures she might as well have fun while outside. Sonya soon approaches after, smiling at the boy. What a strong....tail?
{♠} —; “What’s a silly boy like you doing here, hm? You think you’re ready to hunt down some monsters?”