Zald is right beside the other warrior , giant lizards approaching slowly. Spitting out acid form their mouths, blood seeps from his mouth from reasons yet to be revealed.
“Can you fight?”
@atonings

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Zald is right beside the other warrior , giant lizards approaching slowly. Spitting out acid form their mouths, blood seeps from his mouth from reasons yet to be revealed.
“Can you fight?”
@atonings
@atonings
“You know, there is a certain saying---”
“Take a picture, it will last forever? Is that correct?” Close enough, right? The blonde nation cocked his head to the side slightly, smiling at the other who seemed rather content to just... Glare at him upon their first meeting. “Oh, that sounds too rude of me. I do wonder why you feel so fit to just glare in my direction since I first spoke--- in my own housing. Are you in need of assistance, my friend?”
ϟ atonings liked for a starter!
Sector 003 was..something he’d never seen before or it’s his first time there. And needless to say, Harry was rendered, speechless.
He actually preferred Sector 001 than this.
He can see some crimes going on about. Where was the police? He wondered. They were right, this sector’s so corrupt--
A gunshot and Harry ducked quickly.
Is somebody dead? The boy wondered. He became wary as a group of people surrounded about by something. He can hear rumors about a robbery or so. The boy approached the crowd curiously. Now, what are they concerned now?
@atonings
Everything about this human city served to put her on edge. There had yet to be an attempt on her life but that did not mean much in her line of work. One could only imagine how the entirety of the Horde was managing with the sudden disappearance of its Warchief. Hence why the small scuffle of a shoe against the floor was enough to make her spin on her heel, wooden bow raised with a pathetic arrow notched.
“Had you stepped any closer you would be a dead human,” Sylvanas snapped despite knowing her weapon was far from deadly. Herself was more dangerous than what she was provided with.
He woke up in his uniform, but not where he should be; Clement pushes through the fog in his mind, remembers a stack of reports waiting to be read. Had he been in his quarters?
It’s nauseatingly similar to waking up after the Conclave. He stares at a world of metal and glass and instinctively knows this place isn’t the Fade. This place is nowhere in Thedas, and he feels the same cold fingers of helplessness trail up his spine that he did the day he woke up with amnesia and a murderous Cassandra in his face.
But he’s not that reeling younger man any longer, and fortunately he seems to be free of threats of execution here. Steeling himself, Clement takes a deep breath of the strangely stale air and remembers who he is. This is nothing compared to Corypheus, he tells himself, and nearly believes it.
He carefully sidesteps thoughts of home and the welfare of his people.
Wisely choosing to move in the direction of foot traffic, Clement does his best to take in his surroundings while hiding his baffled reactions. The noise, the strange carriages on the road, the mysterious devices everywhere that seem to run without the help of magic...it takes significantly more effort than usual to keep his face smoothly impassive. No need to tip off the strangers around him that he doesn’t belong.
After wandering for what felt like ages in an increasingly-confusing labyrinth, Clement spots a familiar face and feels his stomach drop down to his boots. Loghain? But..he swallows down the guilt, the memory of a Warden left to handle the Fade alone. None of them thought he’d survive...was he dead, then? Was this some sort of afterlife?
Am I dead too?
Unsettled by the thought but in the need of familiarity, and perhaps some answers, Clement calls out to the older man. “Loghain! Warden Loghain!”
@atonings
Hive City is - too much. Bethany once accompanied a Warden squad into Val Royeaux and thought she’d seen the pinnacle of civilization and what a city was meant to look like.
The Orlesian capital looks like a child’s dollhouse next to the sprawling mass of metal and glass and pavement she’s faced with whenever she leaves her underground “home”. District Epsilon is decrepit and disgusting - though at least there’s no Darkspawn lurking there, a marked improvement on the years of her life spent in the Deep Roads - but it makes more sense than the city itself sometimes.
It’s while she’s wallowing, occupying a sidewalk bench and squinting against bright sunlight after spending several days underground, that she spots him. Any good Fereldan would know him; Bethany heard all about the heroes who liberated the country from Orlesian rule at the knees of the local storytellers in every village her family lived in. She’d seen him once, too, a brief glimpse during a gathering of Wardens.
“Warden Loghain,” Bethany blurts out rather stupidly. Excellent start, what a charmer you are. “Oh - well. Former Warden, I suppose. It’s not as though our titles mean much here.”
She’s rambling; Bethany considers literally biting her tongue to stop prattling at this man who likely doesn’t know her, but even a stranger she recognizes more as a legend than a man is better than nothing in this damnable place.
“Sorry, former Warden Bethany Hawke. ”
atonings
@atonings
Not having a sword or being at home doesn’t make for any excuse to not practice, Ucchi figures. So he’s found a decently shaped stick and he’s practicing in a nice open park space he’s found, utterly absorbed in his careful, disciplined movements. It’s comforting, that wherever he is he can still do this, find peace and purpose in the familiar training and work.
The peace, however, doesn’t last long. One moment he’s practicing diligently, focused and determined, and the next his makeshift sword is flying out of his hand. He starts in alarm as it whizzes threateningly close past the head of an innocent stranger, barely grazing them. Once he’s gotten his wits about him, he takes off after the stick and its near-victim, sweat-drenched and panting when he comes to a halt in front of the stranger.
“I-- I am so sorry-- I do not know how I was so careless-- Are you hurt?”
A bucket of meat - Loghain/Skeletor
@atonings
Skeletor was having an awful day through out Sector 3, keeping a hurried pace and trying his best not to make eye-socket contact with anyone. The people here were absolutely intimidating, and he was sure he’d seen at least 2 brandishing weapons. After bumping into a man and having a small altercation, Skeletor blasted him with energy and knocked him out, but this left him with only 2 more shots. He’d never make it to the train station. Then he spotted a potential hero.
“You! The meatsack in the rusty bucket armor!”, Skeletor shouted, running up to a man who appeared to be on the older side, even down to his attire. He stepped behind him, keeping a hand on his shoulder, using him as somewhat of a human shield. “Alright, you tower of sheet metal, I, the mighty Skeletor, am now recruiting you to take me to the nearest train station. You’ll be promised a position in Ultra Snake Mountain once it’s finished!”, Skeletor bargained, even though Ultra Snake Mountain was possibly years away. Either way, if this guy believed it, that would mean safety for now.