#aidlombard

[zweiwings]

@aid-lombard​

     Late nights were never really going to end for Hibiki Tachibana, a fact she had come to accept long, long ago. 

     Sure, things had been quiet lately-- after the events with Shem-ha and the moon ( again ), it felt like the first time in god knows how long that they really had time to let the dust settle and work on picking up the pieces without some lingering dread on the horizon. Things were a mess, yeah, but considerably less of one.

     Still, when weird energy signals start popping up out of nowhere and Hibiki is the closest in the vicinity, there’s not even a question about what it means; one pointless argument with HQ and a few promises to be on her best behavior or call if anything goes wrong before she’s off to investigate. If it was nothing and she checked in quickly then everything would be fine and the others would be spared the trouble. And if she took too long?

     Well, backup would be coming eventually whether she wanted it or not in that case.

     For now Hibiki resigns to looking around as her ears tune attentively to the meter whirs of her headset. As far out from the city and into the wilderness as she was and as late as night had already fallen, there’s hardly a sound apart from that and the low and eerie chatter of the forest; whatever it was sending off those weird signals was.... at the very least quieter than her to say the least.

[wishpsynergy]

/ @aid-lombard​❅

The various stores catch her attention quickly; there’s just so much to see, so little money to actually buy anything - it’s not like she can buy anything, anyways, giving her own struggle with her so-called phone and its currency and whatnot. So Mia limits herself to see through the stalls.

This one fair she’d come across from - it had caught her attention more than anything else. It was unique in that there things that felt like home; that was comforting. Whether she could ever get out, go back or not, was a matter that she will resolve one day. For now, this is the closest she’ll get to a taste of Weyard.

“Oh, this is all so nice! Those clothes look very nice, maybe I could try finding a spare? Or maybe that, too. Perhaps if...” ah, ah, she’s mumbling to herself, but it’s hard to blame her with how excited she is. Next to her there seems to be someone struggling, though - and that’s something she can’t ignore. So she approaches the stranger.

“You seem trouble. Is everything alright?”

[elfnein]

                                             @aid-lombard​​

     The low patter of Elfnein’s shoes fills the otherwise silent halls, breaths coming in soft and unsteady puffs as they adjust the heavy stack of books in their arms. Truth be told, it was a bit much for them but... well, wasn’t ‘pushing past new limits’ the goal for the time being? Maybe this wasn’t much of a start in that regard, but it was something.

     Moreover, if Elfnein had picked up anything in the few encounters they had had with their new friend, it was that Saint Germain mowed through books like they were absolutely nothing and if they wanted to help the alchemist stay busy all day, it meant a little effort. 

     Maybe even a little overkill, but they’d be amiss to pretend it’s not a little exciting to be around someone who’s expertise not only lined up with but surpassed their own in their field of study. Someone like Saint Germain was a very valuable resource after all; past experience had taught as much, and Elfnein couldn’t help but be a bit eager in response.

     With a strained whine and a loud thud of textbooks on tile, Elfnein drops their carry just outside of Saint Germain’s door before buckling over their knees with heavy pants in an attempt to steady themselves. It’s only after a long moment that they manage to offer a brief shake of their head and straighten out their posture.

     “U-Um... !” Clearing their throat, Elfnein hesitantly reaches out to knock on the door. It wasn’t as if the two were strangers by now, having had more than a few conversations through a slot in the door, but something about the prospect of finally having clearance to enter the holding cell temporary residence felt...

     “Excuse me, Saint Germain-san, are you up..?”

[flamenbu]

@aid-lombard​  ( s.c. )

    ‘Maid Café’ As much as he tried to understand the concept, it just seemed more and more out of his reach. This ‘Little Tokyo’ place was truly a mystery the more he strolled its streets. What was a ‘Tokyo’ anyway? That seemed just like ‘Kyoto’ backwards, was this the capital of the place or something? The woman aside seemed to be just as lost as him, and, used to just inquiring for answers, he did so. 

    ❝ Excuse me, Miss. Do you know what this is? ❞

[breath-of-stone]

@aid-lombard​

He had come to the same storefront a few times now and was sure the proprietor had seen him and wondered why he was milling about not doing anything in particular. In reality he was trying to get some shopping done.

But there wasn’t much he could divine other than the place sold produce, some of it was displayed outside, and the rest was inside. Much was lost on him due to the fact he couldn’t perceive anything written. Gyomei wasn’t eager to make himself look like a fool. Just standing around seemed to accomplish that however, so he never lingered for too long.

The next time he passed by there was someone else already browsing. Gyomei only hesitated a brief moment before approaching them.

“Excuse me,” he said in a low voice, already having started crying, “is there any chance you might be able to help me? I’m not able to read any signs showing what’s being sold or for how much...” Gyomei’s quiet voice often made it sound as if he was trailing off at the end of sentences.

[nanamigatari]

@aid-lombard​

Going on a country-long journey with only the clothes on one’s back was something no one in their right mind would consider. However, Nanami was unlike most people, and as far as she was concerned, the land suited her needs just fine. Whatever she needed during her travels, she would simply take. 

Foraging was a skill her father had taught her when she was old enough to walk. Sure, she had acquired a plastic bottle of water by retching it free from the innards of some glass-covered, metal box, but the native fruit growing on some of the trees here was something she was used to. She hadn’t tasted an orange in years and wouldn’t be denied.

The sudden pitter-patter of steps behind her broke her out of her plotting, her long hair swishing as she turned to look. Instead of an adult or some stray animal, Nanami found herself gazing at a young girl in dirty rags. 

“...What are you doing out here by yourself? Where are your parents?“

[technolocks]

@aid-lombard​

“Nyaaahh!”  Entrapta’s arms fought to keep steady, holding the tray she carried upright even as she lost her footing on the icy patch of ground.  The momentum proved too much, though, and a cup of soup would end up flying from the flat surface, crashing to the ground and splashing a bit onto someone’s shoe.

“Aah!  Sorry!  It wasn’t too hot to burn through your shoe, was it?”  With her footing regained, she lowered the tray with a sheepish expression.  The cup that had crashed was...quite small, more of a sake cup than anything, and it seemed to make up one of several tiny soup bowls she had bunched up on her tray.  Definitely from the free soup cauldron in Fibonacci, though one had to wonder how patient those waiting for their own helping would’ve had to be with her...

[princessofquacks]

"Psst, Cagliostro-san! Call Saint-Germain-san 'mom' and see how she reacts!"

The cyan-haired woman blinks. She really doesn’t know where this is coming from. After all, this particular Symphogear-user had always struck her as more innocent than the others... Or maybe she just doesn’t understand the implications of what she’s asking. Cagliostro’s betting on the latter. Regardless, the idea is too good, and far too juicy to pass up.

“Mooommyyyyyyyyy~” she calls out to Saint-Germain cutely, teasingly, in that way that would get anyone else decked square in the jaw before they got even halfway through the extended pronunciation of the word (and that’s ignoring the punishment that would await most who dared to address the older alchemist in such a way to begin with). “How are you feeling today? Should I make you some tea? Or coffee? Or should I get some wine? Ooooh, wine’s always a good choice, right?”

Surely this isn’t what the Yellow Ran-Gear had in mind, but that just makes it all the better.

@aid-lombard

@butevenso