“You know most of those who will enlist aren’t even ready to take on a dragon, right?”
“No one is being forced into this,” Sage’s sultry, throaty voice carried through, accentuated by the plumes of smoke escaping her lips, “They have a choice, Cicely.”
But the raven-haired chronomancer at her side did not seem convinced. Lofting a dark, angular brow, she addressed the cigarette-sucking blonde once the last of the summons went out via Mesmer Mail. A flurry of enchanted butterflies made their way across Tyria, delivering the missive to each Collective affiliate.
“It’s not that simple. Many of them will go just to prove a point, to prove that they can. Others will simply….think it’s their -Destiny- to fight for Tyria. Nothing in that letter heeds a warning that they may not come back. There’s no game plan. You’re trusting those out in Thunderhead know what they’re doing. We’re talking about a -dragon- here, not Joko, not the Toxic Alliance, not the Mantle. A dragon. The Crystal Dragon.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Cicely.” Another puff of her cigarette made Sage pause between words, her glossy crimson lipstick leaving a stain on its mint-flavored filter. “Like I said, they have a choice. You remember what the Vigil taught you. Some must fight so that all will be free.”
“May be free,” Cicely corrected her.
“Sure. And they don’t -have- to go. Plus, it’s not like it was my doing to begin with. Take it up with–”
Sage’s words were again cut short, but not by a need for her vice this time. Storming inside the office came a frenzied River, leaving a trail of lilac lights bursting in her wake as she Blinked even closer to the two fellow mesmers.
“I’m going,” was all she offered, holding up the memorandum, its enchanted ink still shimmering.
“River, stop. You’re being absurd! You’re nowhere near being able to handle that sort of mission.”
Sage’s words caused Cicely to dubiously side-glance at her partner, “Oh, so, literally what I just said minutes ago. Hello, Hypocrisy. Were she not your daughter would you still–”
“Not now, Cicely!” Holding up a perfectly manicured hand, the elegant blonde tried to stifle her companion while addressing the young mesmer before them, “We need you here, River. And that’s not negotiable.”
“You do not need me here. You just don’t want me to go!”
“And maybe I don’t!” Sage hissed, finally putting off her nearly finished cigarette, the ashtray eerily resembling some exotic sculpture off a Branded shard. “I have lost one child already, I will not lose both.”
“It’s what -he- would’ve done and you know it! Why can’t you just—”
This time, the door burst open so forcefully with a chaos blast its source -clearly- had the clearance to saunter about using that sort of aggressive magic within the Collective headquarters.
All three women turned to face the incoming chaos, with Sage rolling her eyes and sighing, clearly exasperated, “Oh, for fuck’s sake, does -anyone- ever knock anymore? Do we need to reinstate the rule of no Blinking nor portaling through closed office doors? What do -you- want, Sebastian?”
“What the fuck is this?” The nobleman, who was usually extremely polite, spared no time to calm his temper, glaring at both Sage and Cicely. “Explain this!”
Slamming the memo down on Sage’s marble-topped desk, he drew in a deep breath, allowing for his usually steel-blue eyes to stop flickering a faint violet hue as he continued to pointedly stare at the women.
“It’s optional.” Sage stressed, yet again, remaining as collected as possible.
“Optional my ass. Are -you- going?” The angry man pointed an accusatory index at Sage, then at Cicely, who threw her gloved hands up in a surrendered manner.
“Is -she- going?” He asked again, this time gesturing towards River.
The latter rolled her pale hazel eyes, “She doesn’t want me to. Even though it’s what David would’ve wanted.”
The young, deceased chronomancer’s name still conjured all sorts of paternal feelings within Sebastian. But he quickly brushed them off and focused on the matter at hand.
“You two.” Again, that blame-filled finger-pointing. “You’re either out there with the rest of them or you resign. At least one of you should be. You can’t have it both ways.”
Offering River –an innocent as far as he was concerned– one last glance and a brief nod in farewell, the Larkspur took his leave.
“I’ll be seeing you out there, Sage. Or at the funerals.”
(( @mimimoulin @zozo-amused @ursulaquellhorst @odelynv @isiabelle @bries-alts @flashfire344 and anyone else I forgot that might be out there/interested in having been in the Kralk fight/in the know of MC stuffs, oops, more incoming!))
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