Map & Compass [IC]

Liberya

Ria remained silent as she listened to people talking here and there. At first she had absolutely no idea about anyone in this room, but now she remembered most names here, save for those never mentioned or introduced. She also heard some titles. Although, for the rebel who spent her entire life, albeit just 4 months, thinking about what to do on the battlefield, Enia and Ithya were probably nothing more than the names of a distant place. Needless to say, she was completely clueless when it came to these countries' social structures.

While listening, she learned their current situation of boarding an airship that was heading to a prison where they could, in the worst case, end up being executed. Afraid of dying, was it? Ria thought back about the captured soldiers who reacted terribly upon hearing their death sentences. Yeah, to this day she still didn't really get it. Why did-- suddenly, the man called Martin, that guy who spoke up earlier, seemed to say things that pissed the woman called Silbur off. While her act of anger didn't last long, Ria's eyes didn't miss those few movements.

A set of move that would lead into knife throwing. Judging from its dexterity and pattern, that woman was also skilled in using a knife at close-range.

She unconsciously processed this information. While the rebels had taught her a lot of things about combat, this was definitely not one of their teachings, or rather, they could never teach an advance skill like this. The fact that she was able to do so was regarded as a talent and nothing more...

As Ria continued her information gathering, she was abruptly approached by the ball of energy that was Sasha. The quiet girl never talked to anyone but her fellow rebels and enemy soldiers, so of course she would be dumbfounded for a few seconds. However, the smile on Sasha's face kinda helped. She recalled how her uncle introduced himself before smiling back to the taller girl and replying in a tone similar to the one she received "Nice to meet you, I am Liberya of the... uh... something... of Aepian anarchists. You can call me Ria." The part after she messed up sounded faster and less secure.

Even though she forgot some crucial information, it was perhaps unneeded. The name of her group was "The Torch of Liberation", a group that reestablished just around 3 months ago and suddenly made a big name for themselves through amazing achievements. Of course, the origin of that name, as in Liberya herself, was always mentioned together.

Mentions: @Snowflake @fish-writer
Interactions: @ItariChan
 
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The Pious Wayfarer

"Well, I’m glad we have an understanding." As the ship’s forward movement slowed dramatically, Thibault got to his feet. The paper on his desk folded itself, and slid itself into a drawer. A lock clicked under his table as the prince made his way around the desk, gesturing Amelie to follow. He marched to the door, his hands gathered behind his back. The doors flung open, with the four armed Templar from below deck standing a few meters away. "Captain Eco. Take Octave and escort the prisoners out of the ship once we’ve docked. Lumiose will be waiting to receive our new Sister for her orientation." Thibault turned to the woman, and looked her up and down. "Welcome to Sunderlake, Octave." The ship shook as the roof of a tower came into view through the clouds. Stone slabs laid themselves down from a door to the ship’s side. Thibault walked over and onto the makeshift bridge. "Pray you do not disappoint me, Templar." The bridge started to disappear with every step Thibault took away from the ship, as the Wayfarer continued to descend once again.

Eco looked at the woman for a few moments with the slightest hint of contempt, before gesturing with his lower right arm for her to come with him. "Come ‘en freshie," he said, walking to the brig. "We oughta be down in a few."

"Pardon, Eco!" A young woman clad in full Templar armour rushed past the hulking man and Amelie, rushing up the stairs onto the deck.

@TheQueensGuard
Sunderlake Isle - Airship Port

"Jacques." A young woman spoke up behind the scientist, clad in Templar armour. "We have a new recruit coming in: Amelie Octave. The Prince-General wants you to show her the ropes." Once Jacques would turn, he’d recognize her as the Prince-General’s squire, Elle, a talented young mage Thibault and his men rescued during the aftermath of a battle in Aepia three years prior. Since then, she has almost always been at Thibault’s side. In fact, she was supposed to have been on the ship that was docking just now.

@Desert Bee

The Pious Wayfarer’s Brig

Eco led Amelie to the room, and with a wave of the hand, opened the cell door and the gate leading up the stairs. Four other guards stood around the wide corridor leading down to the exit from the brig. "On yer feet now," Eco barked at the prisoners, leaning onto the wall. He turned to Amelie, and spoke quietly, his eyes rolling to the side. "Lead ‘em on out. Do’n worry, they can’t use magic or nuthin’. If they give ya trouble, do whatever ya need." He let out a droll chuckle as he left the brig.

Theo slowly pushed himself off the wall and to his feet. He stood still, waiting for those closer to the cell to move, appearing more confused than anything else. "A prison, huh? A prison was…?"

@fish-writer @TheQueensGuard @Polaris North @ItariChan @Miriel @Snowflake @Danny

Sunderlake Isle - Prison Courtyard

"Oh not this ‘un ‘gain," Claude grumbled. He eyed Ioseph as the diminutive young man made his way away. He let out a low growl at the man and woman confronting him after he lost sight of Ioseph in the crowd. His figure seemed to almost expand even further, but it soon became clear that he simply took a deep breath. "Look ‘ere: We gotta system. Ya want prop’r food fer e’rryone? Then you all gotta pitch in, get it?" He rubbed his thumb against his index finger with a smug grin. "Either ya contribute, or ya get nuthin’ from the outside, an’ nuthin’ but prison grub till the day they call yer name for transfer. Now pay up or piss off. Addrick’s due his payment."

@The Wanderer @Jess Incognito @Desert Bee @Kat
 
Last edited:
Makatza

Claude irritated her and even more so, the young male that decided to walk away from Claude without any explanation; She was helping. Clearly, the young man didn't want her help. Maka took out a crystal from her side bag and dropped it in Claude's hand. It was covered in dirt.

"You should know by now we are all broke and penniless prisoners. We don't have the luxuries you and your men do. Stop expecting so much of us," she responded to Claude in a curt tone. She glanced over at the other male, uncertain if he was new to the prison or not. "It's a stupid law here. Give him whatever you have that is considered valuable. He'll add it to Addrick's pile of growing riches."

Maka left Claude and the other male. There was no reason to step in anymore; every single time she made a point to help, no one wanted it, from what she noticed. Maka arrived in front of the children again and took a seated position with rose quartz in her hand.

"My apologies, children. The tax collector came around again. Let's listen to what everyone came up with while I was away, perhaps we shared some golden nuggets of wisdom on how we overcame those sad feelings? I hope we all thought long and hard about our answers."


@The Wanderer @Sketching101
 
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Amélie Octave
The Pious Wayfarer

Amelie nodded too the Prince-General, adding a quick. "Thank you sir." After he welcomed her to the island. Turning to the captain, she shifted awkwardly as he looked over her. He looked unimpressed, almost as if she was any other recruit. She didn't like being judged by anyone, let alone someone who looked at her like she was useless. After all, she was once a member of the Royal Guard! She should've been treated with respect. Despite wanting to give the man an ear full, she decided it better to hold her tongue as he led her down the stairs to the brig.

As a young woman rushed passed her suddenly, Amelie stumbled some before catching herself on the wall. She sighed and regained her composure and continued after Captain Eco. He waved his hand and the door opened. Amelie took a deep breath. She hoped Silbur wouldn't notice her, or if she did, not make a commotion out of seeing her. Knowing her though, that's probably what the princess would do.
Pushing the memories and worries out of her mind. She had to play her role, or else she'd never get Silbur out.

"Lead ‘em on out. Do’n worry, they can’t use magic or nuthin’. If they give ya trouble, do whatever ya need." Amelie nodded and looked into the brig. "You heard him, up on your feet everyone. Line up single file and be quick about it. No funny business., unless you'd like to get whipped before we're even off the ship."
When the prisoners were ready, Amelie lead them out of their cell and to a wide doorway. The door was already open, some guards standing on either of the door. Leading them onto the dock, Amelie stood too the side too look over the prisoners and make sure they were following directions.
Omen Bridger
The Pious Wayfarer ~ Brig

Omen sighed when a well-spoken kid came over to the princess and introduced himself as 'the Blade of Enia' and commander of some circle. The pirate couldn't help but groan as he heard the two talking, mumbling too himself before turning on his side. "Damn nobles." He heard Sasha say she was going too meet the others and heard her walking away. He was glad she was making connections, because if they weren't going to execute them then having friends in the prison would be helpful. The hard part for Omen was actually being charismatic enough for people too like him, but Sasha was friendly enough for the both of them.

Like he thought, it wasn't long until the airship slowed to a halt. The doors flung open and some posh woman yelled at them to get on their feet and line up. As Omen sluggishly started too stand, one of the guards knocked him in the shoulder with the butt of a spear, but it was weak enough that it didn't even stagger the pirate.
"Hurry up and get in line you filth." Glaring at the man, Omen spat on the ground towards the guard but otherwise followed orders. Cracking his neck as he walked, Omen looked at the ship around them. It was fine craftman ship, despite some dinks and repairs that needed too be made.

When he made it out of the ship and onto a dock, he took a breath of fresh air. Seagulls cried off nearby, and the smell of water hung in the air. It reminded him of home, and he might've even smiled if it wasn't for the guards and chains.
 
Willow Howst
Interacting with: @Miriel @ItariChan
Mentions:
Location: The Pious Wayfarer

"Thanks, but I'll pass for now." Willow said with a dismissive wave when she was offered fish. Her appetite wasn't exactly too great right now, considering what was happening to them. Prison - they were going to prison. That would have been unthinkable if she had only remained in her home world. Of course, considering it was her, this was only inevitable. It was surprising that there were no plans being passed around but there was a point to that - they couldn't use magic. They'd be beaten up before they can even think of leaving the ship. It was a shame but Willow guessed that was just how life was.

Martin had released some foolish words, as if trying to tease Silbur. She didn't take it too well, the anger that filled her voice and the movement. Willow had half a mind to move towards Silbur so as to calm her down. It wouldn't do good for them to fight when they were in their current predicament. However, a voice cut through the tension and the anger in the princess seemed to ebb away.

She looked up to the Von Emris - or rather Noah - as he began to go off on a speech about his old position and how he was swearing himself to Silbur. It was certainly... something. She didn't understand the importance of this little exchange. They were all prisoners in shackles now no? They were stripped of their ranks, their titles and their nobility. Then again, it took her a while to understand why those things were important in the first place. She guessed this was a thing in Enia. Titles that would follow you until the grave even if they hold no meaning anymore. She played with the cup she was holding before noticing Sasha disengaging and moving to the woman who had not spoken yet.

Perhaps by instinct, Willow followed behind to hear a name, at the very least. Sasha, the friendly person she was, introduced herself to the girl. A few moments had passed before the girl seemed to have gathered her bearings and responded. Liberya. "That's a pretty name." The words had escaped her mouth before she could think but now that it was out, Willow grinned. "Willow here, nice to meet you." She gave her a small wave, the clanking of the metal chains following her movement. Aepian Anarchists - Willow can't say she's been acquainted to many of those. But they were headed to Aepia to find Elodie, hopefully.

Willow was about to ask if maybe Liberya had known someone by name of Elodie when the footsteps came back. It was different person this time, though she could still see the four armed templar from before. Willow straightened her posture before relaxing it. No need to look like she would fight. Once they were ordered out, Willow followed the order. Once they were out, she looked around. It's a surprisingly nice place if they weren't going to get carted off to prison. Too bad she didn't have time to sightsee as they were led elsewhere.

Jacques Lumoise
Interacting with: @Sketching101 @TheQueensGuard
Mentions:
Location:
Sunderlake Isle, Airship Port

Jacques had been relaxing - really, he was. He had gotten word of the new prisoners and how... interesting the current batch was. So, he was going to be accompanying them to the prison to be able to observe who they were and how they acted. He knew some of them by name - especially Princess Silbur herself. What a shame, what a shame, to have been turned in by your family for being a polymorph. Then there was Neoh Von Emris. Jacques knew his father better, having been the general of an elite force. Of course, he only knew them by reputation as he was stationed away from the group.

Of course, this also means that there are more and more capable people inside the prison now. With the amount of Templar Knights there, despite how skilled any of the prisoners may be, chance of escape was always still so low. He had often gone to talk with the prisoners during his down time for research. Most of them have come to simply accept this way of life. The prison wasn't so bad, after all, not until you were volunteered for a study. You would think that the Templar Knights would be more wary of grouping together potentially dangerous people inside a closed space even with their magic and their polymorphy kept at bay with their new technology. But nothing has happened - nothing yet.

Jacques looked down at his journal, filled with vital information that he had discovered over his years with the research team. This was his own personal journal and he had notes on some discoveries he was still unsure of - some hypothesis here, one-way discussions with himself there, names of those he had personally overseen at the very back. He still had to do his job to avoid suspicion of his wavering and completely gone loyalty. It was that or death. The latter was not an option. In any case, he was writing a few things into the journal - the language encrypted for only him to be able to read about. Of course, with enough time, the other scientists would be able to translate it.

So he was completely unprepared for someone to approach him. From behind.

"By Ydra!" Jacques exclaimed as he whipped around only to meet face to face with Elle. He ran his hand through his hair as he calmed himself. "Greetings Elle." He said after a moment. Upon hearing that he was going to be assigned a new recruit, he hummed. Amelie Octave, wasn't that a noble's name... what was it... a Royal Guard if he wasn't mistaken. "I'll meet with them now then." He gave her a smile. "Welcome back to Sunderlake Elle." She was always with the Prince-General after all. He closed his journal and inserted it inside his coat.

He moved towards the docking airship, standing close to their eventual vehicle towards the prison. Indeed, this would be an interesting time.
 
Silbur Dei Allinari
location: The Pious Wayfarer's Brig ➟ Sunderlake Isle Airship Port

The shudder of apprehension that rippled down Silbur's back at the sensation of the ship slowing to a stop sparked an irritated huff from the princess. A thunderous scowl darkened her face as a man appeared, opening the doors and barking orders. This sort of thing did not sit well with her, and she remained stubbornly seated, glaring hotly at the pompous oaf. The Ithyan man got to his feet, a bewildered expression on his face, and Silbur opened her mouth to say something cutting and rude.

She forgot the words that had piled up on her tongue when she realized there was someone else coming forward from behind the man whose orders she had decided to ignore. Someone with a painfully familiar voice, talking about, of all things, whippings. As Captain Bridger passed his huge body between Silbur and the two newcomers, the princess braced her hand on the table and stood, the fork disappearing quietly into her palm, and then into her sleeve with a convulsive flex of her wrist, the motion slightly clumsier than usual due to the shackles. Following Captain Bridger with steady, purposeful steps, she approached Amélie, teeth clenched, hands in fists. The edges of her gossamer wings drooped, the only sign of the watery ache in her chest at the sight of the woman wearing a Templar Knight Badge.

Silbur wanted to tear her down, even readied words she suspected would cut quick and deep, but she couldn't speak them, couldn't trust her voice not to shake at this unexpected betrayal. Wasn't it enough that her father—not her father; her mother's husband—had given her up? Now Amélie, the closest thing she had to a friend, had abandoned her family for the Templar Knights.

And so, she remained silent, following the others off the ship, hoping her stare burned the back of Amélie's head as she led them to the door. The temptation to break the line and run itched at her, but Silbur knew it would be nothing short of suicidal. Regardless of any incompetence of the other guards, the princess had placed herself and, consequently, Amélie in enough impossible situations to know that the now-Templar Knight would be able to stop her with very little expenditure of effort.

This was impossible. Silbur knew she couldn't afford this kind of distraction. Her frustration thinned the blinding anger, and she forced herself to think. This had happened almost too fast. It was nearly impossible for a woman to be accepted into the ranks of the Templar Knights. If her father had removed Amélie from her position, it would have been a mark of dishonour, and those doors would have been shut for her. She must have left the Royal Guard willingly, and quickly. Amélie seemed to be exactly where she wanted to be. But why? Silbur's glare cooled into calculating consideration, watching as her former bodyguard stepped aside to keep an eye on the prisoners.

The fresh air was irritatingly pleasant, and Silbur found herself squinting in the sunlight. "What a lovely place to be executed," she grumbled as she stepped onto the dock.

interactions: None
mentions: Ithyan Man, Captain Eco @Sketching101 , Amélie, Captain Bridger @TheQueensGuard
 
Sunderlake Isle, Prison Camp - Iosef vi Faust
Interaction(s): @Jess Incognito


Iosef had the onset of a headache. Not the typical internal pangs of the brow, though they were certainly present, but rather what he referred to as 'boredom headaches.' During times like these, the head would fog up and it was as though he could see himself in third-person. A twinge of lag in every movement. Like an astigmatism in the brain, Iosef supposed.

Smoking helped soothe that. There had been a time where he had frowned upon smoking and other additives. Oh what his mother would think of him now.

A voice to his left put a tremor in Iosef's step. His conscious mind, which said keep walking, at odds with the subconscious beckon to halt. Huffing out a plume of smoke, Iosef's slouched form looked left to eye the gentleman convict who was looking and walking his way.

"Might I ask a small favor?" The man's voice wasn't particularly abrasive. He seemed to have the good grace to not be as demanding as the rest of the prison lot, too.

The older man offered up a worn notebook for Iosef to see, his thick hands dexterously delicate with the pages. Iosef's gaze then switched to the etching within. Orderly scribbles alongside various geometries and numbers. But the gaze was obstructed upon the man pulling a stubby cigarette from the notebook's leafing and pocketing the book.

Apparently he wanted a light.

Iosef's dark-circled eye bore into the other's glasses. He sighed a puff of smoke. I may as well educate him now to keep him from bothering me later.

Pulled out from his pocket, he held up his left hand. "You can use pyromancy, yes? Just use your main fingers to channel exhaust," he said, waggling his thumb and first three digits. "Then the little finger, weakest digit for pyromancy. So that plus the exhaust should keep you from blowing your hand up. Of course the collars help- oh. What was your problem again, I wasn't paying that attention."

He had just realized he'd been assuming the problem. For all he knew, maybe the man had a complete inability to pryomance. If such proved the case, Iosef would just direct the man to the Ydran devotee. He was sure the woman would be more than happy to help.

Iosef pinched the muscles in the back of his neck. For the love of chaos, the headache really wasn't backing down. Perhaps it was a biological reaction to malnutrition. Not much caring about proper social etiquette - of which ought to be inexistent in a prison anyhow - he deadpanned a question at the man. Tonguing his cigarette to the opposite side, he asked, "That notebook. It's been a while since I looked at something halfway intelligent. What do you have in there anyway?"

Iosef wondered if he should ask the man's name. Then again, he doubted it would matter in the long run. No use committing pointless information to memory.
 
Sunderlake Isle

The prisoners were led down the ship and onto land. The tall tower of Sunderlake’s magic academy up north soon came into view after a minute’s walk. In fact, there were quite a few tall structures in view, but none stranger and larger than what seemed like a mountain of ruins to the west. It seemed like there was a tower reaching up among the rubble, but there was an abrupt end to its climb, as though it had crumbled under its own weight.

"Oi!" Theo awoke from his daydreaming with Eco’s shove. He found himself leaning on the door of a container. "Stop gawkin’ ‘n get in!" The Troubadour gestured to the container with a raised eyebrow. The large Templar let out a growl as his hand went to the hilt of his sword. With a shrug, Theo climbed up after the rest of his fellow prisoners. There were a couple of other prisoners that weren’t on the ship they came in. Right as the door shut behind him, the vehicle began to tremble. As he sat down to the side, the windowless box they were in rose up from the ground, and started moving with a great pace.

Before long, they were let out once again in the ruins of an old temple, incredibly lively for its age. The prisoners were up and about, past the guards inside, chatting and eating. There were a few strange people among the guards, tall and slender, with garbs resembling those of a few of the statues scattered around them. They could still see the gigantic structures looming over everything in the distance, with the clouds warping around over the tower to the west. Without saying a word, the driver got back in his motor-carriage, and drove off. Their shackles slid right off, and they felt a small hint of their magic return. "Get going, now," one of the large armoured guards said, gesturing to the courtyard behind the guards. There were a pair of prisoners working in the kitchen, passing out food to everyone. "Dinner ends in twenty minutes."

@fish-writer @TheQueensGuard @Polaris North @ItariChan @Miriel @Snowflake @Danny @chaosheart16
Sunderlake Isle - Airship Port

As Jacques turned to welcome her back, Elle’s cheeks turned to a light tint of red before she quickly dropped the visor of her helmet. Just as she did, the prisoners began coming off the ship one by one, with a woman shepherding them out. Elle reached forward and pointed her finger at the woman. "That’s her," she said. She dropped her arm to her side, and turned to him. "I’ll find you two and take her to her lodgings in..." She looked up for a moment before looking back to the man. "An hour and a half.For now, I ought to attend to the prince." She gave the man a salute before easing up. "Till then!" She turned on her heel and started marching away, humming a strange, musical tune.

@Desert Bee @TheQueensGuard
 
Lifen had remained utterly quiet the entire way, not saying even a peep of noise as they listened to everything going on around them. Not opening their eyes to see, just listen. It was better that way, they still couldn't believe they were far from home and to be honest, this scared them badly. They were used to the forests and small settlements, why were there giant buildings everywhere? Why were there cobblestone streets and ships? Where was everything that they were so used to? They missed the animals, all of them... The young man didn't even bother opening their eyes as more noises were heard, more prisoners being shoved into the box. It was utterly terrifying, but they were keeping their breaths calm as they pretended to sleep a little. They didn't want to be bothered, not really, not now.

The box jolted but even then they did not move, not saying a peep as the box climbed and climbed and they felt their stomach flip flop. This was utterly terrifying, like sleeping up in a tree on a windy day. They weren't used to that kind of movement, it was scary. This whole situation was scary. Oh if only they could see their fellow Troubadours once more! Just see them not captured, alive, and well again! But that was impossible now, right? Their new life...what would it be like now? Would they die from it? While that thought was scary too, they were more terrified of the swaying they were feeling. Were they up in the air? Please set them down and make this over quickly...

It eventually stopped and they opened an eye to see that everything and everyone was getting off. They slowly got up and shuffled out of the cart, feeling a sigh of relief coming on. Then there was a gasp as a surge of energy burst through them, eyes wide as they realized they could feel magic again. But not entirely, could they try to take their Sopia out? Without thinking, the young man tried to bring out their fox ears and three fox tails, wanting to feel more comfortable with their body again. All the while, their eyes eyed the food hungrily, wondering if it would be good.
 
Omen Bridger
Sunderlake Isle
Mentioned:
@ItariChan

As the cart came too a halt, Omen looked away from the doors as the light poured through the now open doors. He, along with the other prisoners, were escorted out of the cart and into a courtyard, where he stretched some now that he wasn't confined in the cart. He stretched his hands and wrists after the shackles came off, feeling his magic flowing back into his body. The itch from the collar was still prevalent, but he didn't plan on trying to use a Sopia yet.
Dinner ends in twenty minutes.
The rough voice of one of the guards called out. Omen grunted in response, his stomach rumbling. He hadn't had a proper meal in the past few days, just small bits of food where he could get it. "Sasha." He called too his companion, who was being unshackled herself. He began walking towards the kitchen, intent on getting a plate of food before it was closed up. "Don't go to far." He said without looking over his shoulder, unsure if she was even following.

As he came closer to the kitchen, a few more of the new prisoners were starting too form a line for food. The majority of which he didn't recognize from the brig of the Pious Wayfarer, though there could've been a familiar face among them. He didn't bother too check as he pushed past most of them to the front, where he took a bowl of stew and bread from one of the prisoners.
Amélie Octave
Sunderlake Isle
Mentioned: @fish-writer

To Amelie's discomfort, she had unfortunately caught a glimpse of Silbur before the prisoners were loaded up onto the transports. For the first time since Amelie had known the princess, she had a look of defeat too her. Normally she was full of spunk and energy, and seeing her like this made Amelie want to come to her aid as always. Of course, she couldn't or else the ruse would've been up before it even began.
A keen eye might've noticed the look of sympathy that passed over Amelie's face, but it was gone quicker than it had stayed. "Hurry up and get loaded, we don't have all day." She yelled out, quickly turning away from Silbur and making her way too the front of the convoy, where she awaited further orders.
 
ARTURO LEONE

INTERACTIONS: @Desert Bee
MENTIONS: @TheQueensGuard


Arturo stood quietly as the man explained the flame. It was new information that he would be certain to put to the test in his quest for fire, but the once-proud man wasn't completely willing to embarrass himself further in that moment by trying.​
Nevertheless, he brought the cigarette to his lips and held out his small finger (It was true he had only attempted the index finger. He thought it rather brilliant that this would make a difference and wondered if it was purely psychological or truly physiological. Regardless, even a cigarette right now would sate his craving for a nice tobacco pipe.) He must have hesitated just a moment long there, for the other man moved on in topic. Arturo pulled the cigarette from his mouth to answer, wanting to shrug off this particular question as he was conditioned.​
No, no, just the ramblings of a forsaken man, he almost said, or some such nonsense. In the city proper, he'd been required to keep discussion of his research on airships confined to the lab. He was permitted to say he was an engineer only while keeping the nature of the research topic a secret from the general public. The technology was highly competitive and it was an unnecessary risk to run around flaunting the possession of state research secrets.​
But, and this only just occurred to him for the first time in several months' imprisonment, Arturo no longer worked for the Templars. His possession of such knowledge now seemed completely beyond their concern. He would likely perish here.​
"It so happens that I used to be an engineer," he said, straightening as he recovered some small dignity over his lesser abilities in magic. "Working on the design of airships isn't practical anymore, I suppose," he said, looking at the book fondly as he turned it over in his hands, "But it does pass the time."
He might have said more, but it was at this moment that he took notice of new arrivals. He eyed them from afar. They had been expected, of course, with the removal of several others earlier this day.​
"A few more in, a few more out," he mumbled. Arturo transferred his gaze to the other man, suppressing the question he really wanted to ask, which was how the other had known not only when but who.​
He could make out a large, dark-skinned man who had just been released into the yard with a group; he went straight to the front of the line. While an intimidating man even from here, Arturo thought it bad form nonetheless to assume he would have no competition in this yard.​
"Well," he said tiredly, "Before it's gone..." He nodded in thanks for the magic tip and started towards the line for food and these new prisoners.​
"It's Arturo, by the way," he mentioned, now some ten paces away, though who knew what the young, eye-patched man already did or didn't know.​
 
Sasha was glad to be free of the cramped cart. She rolled her sore wrists as the shackles came off and then hurried behind Omen to get food before they stopped serving, motioning to Theo and Willow to follow. It seemed like her magic was back now, to some extent. However, there was still the collar around her neck and the itch was still there, indicating polymorphy was still blocked. Despite their circumstances, Sasha stayed optimistic at their chances of escaping. Having magic meant they had more stools at their disposal than they did on the ship. And Sasha's magic, it'd be easy to make more of whatever they needed. Plus there was the chance of being able to recruit more people to help them escape.

Thanks to Omen's intimidating presence and big size, it was easy to get to the front of the line as long as they followed right behind him. Still, it was easy to get separated, so Sasha made sure that Willow and Theo weren't swept up bythe crowd. Those who tried to stop them were pushed to the side by Omen or Sasha. She quickly picked up some stew and bread when she saw a tall man with glasses walking towards the food line. She popped out from behind Omen, "Hi I'm Sasha! And this grump is Omen." Her hands were full so she pointed to him with her foot. She looked behind her at Willow and Theo, "Got your food? Let's go find somewhere to sit.

@Jess Incognito @Sketching101 @Polaris North @TheQueensGuard
 
Arthur

After the woman and boy walked off, each with their own parting phrase, Arthur took his leave. After-all he was fine with his current situation in the prison, sure it was a prison but honestly things could be way, way worse than what they were now.

That was when the dinner bell was rung, the prisoners called to get their daily intake of the items that technically were food. And considering that he was feeling somewhat peckish, he got in line, grabbing his food when prompted and going off to eat said food in relative peace one can find in a prison. Though as he went to sit down in a random spot in the courtyard, he did notice some new faces, some having a ghost of a memory in their face that made him ponder if he knew them.

And some were complete blanks. Overall, Arthur was curious about who some of these people were, and what got them placed in here? Perhaps an accident, or something similar to him where they did something and were caught? Or just simply in trouble? Whatever got them in here, Arthur surely wasn't one to judge, after-all in a prison if you constantly judged everyone, you'd be judging to the point it'd drive you insane.

But the nagging in the back of his mind refused to go away, as if it were trying to get him to remember a face, any face from the newcomers. But he could not place the feeling.

So instead he just sat down, ate his food in silence, pondering things with all of the spare time he had now in prison.....
 
Willow Howst
Interacting with: @Sketching101 @TheQueensGuard @ItariChan
Mentions: @The Wanderer
Location: Sunderlake Isle, Prison

Willow kept silent throughout the trip inside the carriage. She really hated it. Not only was it cramped but there wasn't any place she could look at and imagine that she wasn't restricted. So she closed her eyes and took calming breaths. So when the carriage stopped and they were asked to leave, Willow was more than happy to follow. Their shackles were taken away and she could feel some of her magic come back and she rubbed her wrist before opening it, conjuring a very small knife which was covered by her palm. She dismissed it as she followed Omen and Sasha, making sure Theo was within sight.

Omen was an intimidating person which caused people to part when they were ordered to grab some dinner. She took whatever was served to the prisoners. She heard Sasha introduce herself and she looked over to the bespectacled man. "WIllow, hello." She greeted with a nod of acknowledgement before looking back at Theo. Once he grabbed his food, she looked towards to Sasha. "Yeah I think I see a free space over there." She gestured to a free area.

She was looking around, trying to see if there were an Ithyans that were roaming around that she knew of. Willow has met some polymorphs before and she hoped they weren't being hunted down by some Enian Templar. She spotted someone very... familiar. It was a face she hadn't seen in years. She hadn't even joined the Troubadors by that point. But... she could be mistaken about it. After all, maybe that teenage boy she once learned fishing from wasn't the same person she was looking at right now. Maybe she'll talk to him later to make sure. She did miss him a lot since when she returned, they said that he left but people avoided talking about him.

Jacques Lumoise
Interacting with: @TheQueensGuard
Mentions:
Location:
Sunderlake Isle, Prison

"Thank you Elle. I'll see you later then." Jacques gave her a small nod before hopping onto a vehicle that would be part of the escort for the carriage. He would talk with the newcomer later. He had watched the prisoners hop in one by one, and certainly, the nobles were there. Very interesting. He was sure that the others would be rather excited for something like this. They captured a lot of polymorphs after all.

The travel was short, for him at least. He may have become very used to it. As a frequent observer of the prisoners and perhaps even acquaintances with some of them, Jacques spent a lot of his time in it. The guards have become used to his constant presence and everyone knew better than to question what he was doing there.

Once they arrived, Jacques had removed himself from the vehicle and watched the prisoners get released from their chains. They were being ushered away into the courtyard and he made his way to the ex-Royal Guard. He gave a second look to the new noble prisoners, knowing that they would be perfectly fine inside.

"Miss Octave?" He called out to the young woman, giving her a small and friendly wave. He let out a warm chuckle. "No need to be so stiff. My name is Jacques Lumoise and I'll be taking you around the prison." He extended his hand for her to shake. "Welcome to the Templar Knights. I've heard things about your previous position. I do hope you do not have any ill intentions here." The words were genuine but he knew the irony of things as he was the one who was saying this. Once his hand was shaken, he gestured inside. "Come on, I'll be taking you around the prison for you to get familiar with."
 
~~Martin Cortez~~

And so it happened. One thing after the other, people looking around and about for their acquaintances and their friends. Poking at their chains and bonds. Martin instead pretended to go back to sleep, an act that eluded his capabilities since they slapped the chains on him making it harder to think or even breathe at times. It was a shame he was so used to always having magic coursing through him, it made it hard to adjust to this level of inhibition. For now, all he could do was wait and hope he gets a chance to escape, all he needed was patience. As always he knew that every failure is just a new opportunity and this one was the biggest of them all if his theory was correct.

Not too long after they were ushered up and out of the ship saying goodbye to the gentle rocking amidst the sky currents and wind to instead be driven by cart along a rocky road. Again no more interaction came from the man as he focused on not having his bowels reject the meagre meal he had eaten. The withdrawal was becoming an issue more and more. He hoped they would arrive soon. Others were interesting. Folks who could be useful to be friendly to. The kind of people too restless or idealistic to rot away in a cell. He wasn't as aggressive about his goals but he wouldn't wanna waste away either. If that train showed up he would have to jump aboard.

The prison was as described, as was the protocol within it. He felt a burden leave his chest and shoulders as the shackles were undone leaving only the collar and letting the magic flow through him. He could finally see clearly. He was no different than an average man now, perhaps a bit faster or stronger but not by much. He could stand his ground and indeed there were eyes around that he spotted that might be deserving of a few black marks just to prove his grit. Other than that his gut demanded attention and the 'food' being served would have to take priority. With a bowl of whatever they were being served, he was quick to take a seat and consume it before anyone decided to show up and spit in it. His eyes were scanning the folks within the place, some familiar, some not. There was bound to be problems if his reputation proceeded him here and he was expected to be able to help with this or that. The sad thing was that now, he was all on his own.
 
Sunderlake Isle - Prison

When Sasha turned back to introduce herself to someone, Theo’s head turned as though by reflex. He looked the man up and down before turning away and getting the last bit of his dinner onto his plate. The food didn’t seem too bad. There was some fresh bread and some peas, and a cup filled with clean looking water. Still, there were some prisoners around, distinctly more elaborately dressed and groomed than others, who glared at their dishes with what could only be described as contempt. Theo turned to the free seating Willow pointed out.

Just as they reached their seats and took their seats, a burly, three meter tall man with a pair of large horns curled around his ears pulled back one of the chairs, and sat down. The chair creaked, but held strong under the giant’s weight. He gently put down his plate of cooked meat on the makeshift stone table. The man seemed to be a prisoner, but didn’t have a collar, and emanated magic threateningly. "So you’re the commoners, hm? All the uninteresting ones, grouped together." Despite his gruff and brutish appearance, his voice speech and poise were as refined as the haughtiest of the prisoners. His eyes locked on Omen for a brief moment. "Or at least, so I’ve been led to believe." He paused a moment, as he cut his meat carefully with a fork and knife dwarved by the size of his hands. "No matter. It’s convenient for me when I can find newcomers like you all in the same place. So that I can explain our system here." He slid the piece of steak he cut into his mouth and conjured a piece of cloth out of thin air. After wiping his mouth, he spoke with a coy smile. "Where are my manners. My name is Addrick Beaureve, 13th prince of Enia."

@TheQueensGuard @Polaris North @ItariChan @Jess Incognito
 
Sasha followed Willow to the spot she indicated and sat down and started digging into her food. She was famished. She heard a chair creak and felt a hostile presence across from her. Sasha kept quiet as he talked and responded without looking up, "If by system you mean one burly dude using some cronies to bully those he thinks are weaker than him to help stoke his tiny and fragile ego because they can't make a name for themselves anywhere but here, then there's no need to explain. After all, that's to be expected in a place like this. Anyone could guess that." She glanced up at him, "Well, almost anyone."

She finished eating her meal and leaned back in her chair and put her feet on the table and got a good look at the man who sat at their table for the first time. Taller than she expected. But she could handle it. Probably. If not Omen could handle him. Probably. "I assume you're the "boss." After all, this is the perfect place for a failure of a prince who can't do anything but become a prison bully. I supposed it's to be expected though. You are the... what was it? The 14th prince?" She tsked and shook her head, "Yea, you can't really expect much out of someone that far down the line."

@Sketching101
 
Sunderlake Prison, Dining Area - Iosef vi Faust
Mentions - @Jess Incognito


"... Isn't practical anymore, I suppose."

The words lingered with Iosef. An excellent summary of life in general that was. Why bother with anything really. He had been in Sunderlake Prison perhaps two or three weeks by now and each day bled into the next. Sometimes a bout of intrigue cropped up, some shankings, attractive faces every now and then. But it was all irrelevant. Iosef had spent years of wandering to find something, anything to give him a hint of purpose. And that quest landed him in prison on an island surrounded by degenerates.

He sighed. Though I suppose I'd be surrounded by degenerates no matter the locale, really.

His body lurched forward as someone shoved from behind. "Oi! Dinner ain't happening all day. Start moving, git."

Iosef turned and hung his head towards the short-haired woman, staring dead-eyed at her scowl. "Deepest apologies," he deadpanned. "I'll be right along."

Re-awakening in the physical world, the boy stepped forward then stopped. Another step, another stop. After several minutes of staring into space while his legs did the thinking, he met the chef who seemed to want to die as much as Iosef did. He respected that in an individual.

As per usual, no eye contact was made while the edible slosh was dumped into a bowl, a piece of bread thrown in, cup of water handed over, and he was back into the courtyard yet again bored and aimless but now with food.

Walking off, there was the suspicion he had been thinking something important. Possibly about engineering. He arrived at his usual seat and table to find it already occupied by- oh. It was the new residents from the Pious Wayfarer, the boring ones anyhow. Iosef briefly entertained the thought of picking a fight to get his chair, the idea of being stabbed to death with a spoon made him smile. That's when the bull-horned giant, kingpin of the prison, Addrick himself took one of the last chairs. Spinning on his heel, Iosef went the opposite direction.

He stopped. If he wasn't bothered by death, perhaps jollying up next to Addrick wasn't so bad. Then again, if he wasn't killed, the remainder of Iosef's prison sentence was sure to be a bother.

The sound of sucking at his teeth went on for a good couple seconds, before he spun around, stalked back to his preferred dining area. There were no chairs left at the table, so he sat cross-legged directly on the table itself, next to Addrick. At least a meter away from Addrick. Setting the foodstuffs down, he braced a hand on the wood and looked over his shoulder to intrude on the conversation.

"Well, well. That was certainly a mouthful." Iosef's half-lidded eye staring at the dark haired girl over his cup. "Personally, I find the chatterboxes to be the ones you can't expect much from."

Sssssssiiiuuppppp.

After a long sip, it occurred to Iosef this was actually an excellent opportunity. Either he was ultimately stabbed to death or he convinced Addrick to up Iosef's status. He had been meaning to trade information in exchange for having his cellmate who snored killed/moved to another block, but perhaps this could be ironed out through simple diplomacy. It was a win-win.

After his stare had lingered long enough to establish just how apathetic to the group he was, Iosef turned to Addrick, shook the soup off his soggy bread not minding where the flicks went. "Its a waste of time to use manners, really. They're peasantry." He took a bite of bread, while wet the soup had given it extra flavor. Not terrible. "Let me see," Iosef said, and pressed his index finger between his brow in recollection then pointed at the newcomers. "You're... Sasha, yes? And Theo, Willow, and Obrin. There, proper introductions complete."

Iosef flourished his bread and tipped his head at Addrick. A silent 'you're welcome' or perhaps it was construed as a cheeky 'you may speak now.' His grin was offset by his unsmiling gaze. Let's see how this goes.
 
The arrival of food after a long day and transition to evening was music to Maka's ear, the children more so. Some of them had begun squirming around, hungry and eager to get their hands on an apple or a banana. Maka did one last protection spell to clear away negative energies and demons that haunted the children. She pinched some rosemary and white sage in her bag and flicked them into the air around the circle to cleanse and purify. A prayer was said and Maka concluded their session before the sun began to set. The children went to their families and Maka stood, rooted down in the four corners of her feet. Grounded.

An awareness was brought back to reality, to the heavy collar around her neck, cutting into her delicate skin. She brought herself to here and now and remembered this was what the universe intended. Why her though? Fate had a funny way of twisting things. It was a lesson, an opportunity. She couldn't allow herself to get caught up in her emotions among the public. There was plenty of time to cry later at night. Maka took a deep breath in and walked along the dirt path towards the smell of hot food.

The walk was promising, to say the least, until she found herself accidentally stepping into the pathway of a woman less known and a man known. Jacques. The bane of her existence— not necessarily, however, it hurt to see him around all the damn time when she'd brought it upon herself to never speak to him during her times at the royal academy. He'd changed a lot and he still didn't know she used to spy on him all the time; a secret she wanted to keep.

Was the new woman his partner? Were they engaged? Maka forced herself smile and lift her head up high. Her body struggled to face the two; especially the woman. The woman was intimidating, especially since she didn't have any kind of collar on her. Maka knew she meant business; she knew that on these grounds that meant the new lady had control over her.

"Please excuse me, I didn't mean to walk directly into your path..." She directed towards the woman, trying to ignore the flare in her cheeks. "It's a pleasure to meet you..."


@Polaris North @TheQueensGuard
 
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Silbur Dei Allinari
location: Sunderlake Isle Airship Port ➟ Sunderlake Isle Prison

The ride to the prison was uneventful yet painful, as Silbur wrestled with the sting of betrayal still pricking her insides, made worse by the tense silence of many of the prisoners seated around her. She had caught a last glance of Amélie just before boarding the carriage, a softness to the woman's green eyes that the princess must have imagined. Why was Amélie here? Silbur fidgeted with the chains of the shackles, maddened by the lack of control over the metal. Trapped by the material she had mastered. It was as bitter as it was ironic.

Their arrival was anticlimactic. The prison was as disgusting as Silbur had expected, she noticed with a sneer, crawling with unsavoury men and women of all kinds. Even the relief of her shackles sliding off wasn't enough to lift her spirits, and she rubbed her chafed wrists with pronounced irritation. Dinner was mentioned, but the princess had no inclination to yet partake in whatever slop they decided to call food. Her gaze almost unwillingly searched for Amélie, but the Knight wasn't immediately apparent in her line of sight, so instead Silbur lingered at the outskirts of the crowds, fingering the metal of the fork in her sleeve. Her metallomancy was reachable now, without the cuffs on her, but it was frustratingly weak. She could barely coax the tines to lengthen, thinning and flattening the metal. As it gained elasticity, it worked its way around her wrist, and as Silbur worked on it, she walked slowly, alert and wary.

As she made her way deeper into the throngs of prisoners, she could see Captain Bridger and some of the others she had travelled with on the transport ship, seated and beginning to eat. Though she obviously wasn't here to make friends, gaining allies would perhaps be wise. As she turned towards them, however, a somewhat familiar horned countenance approached them, and the princess felt her lip curl up in disdain. A so-called royal harassing those without noble blood. What a surprise.

Before Silbur could enter spitting distance, she saw another man take a seat next to the horned menace, spouting more arrogant nonsense. This was why she had refused to spend more time than necessary at the Royal Academy, choosing instead to train with guards and soldiers. Approaching imperiously, she smiled venomously at the two nobles. "Prince Addrick," she purred. "It's lovely to see that, even here, lackeys are attracted to the scent of royal blood. What a shame that it's meaningless. Clinging to it does nothing but make you look as pathetic as you truly are."

To be truthful, Silbur had no idea where in line to the throne she had been before her arrest. She had stopped tracking it upon her graduation from the academy, as it was not something that mattered to her at all. Knowing the state of politics in Enia, Silbur was fairly certain she would never rule without a huge expenditure of effort into royal assassinations. Doing her best not to let her eyes settle on Sasha's feet on the table, the princess took the seat next to the dark-haired girl, offering her the same secret smile she had always worn when sending her off with funds for Captain Bridger.

interactions: Prince Addrick @Sketching101 , Sasha @ItariChan
mentions: Amélie, Captain Bridger @TheQueensGuard , Iosef @Desert Bee