Status
Not open for further replies.
"Where... where am I?"

LJsY9nu.png


???

Eyes snap open, slowly, blurrily awakening to the sight of a wooden ceiling and an almost lazyily rotating fan overhead. He blinks once, then twice. Then much more rapidly. A hand instinctively rises, lifting to his head, a sense of pounding ringing inside. He winces. His whole body hurts; is covered in bandages. A dry mouth struggles to repeat the same question again, but repeat it he does. He needs to know where he is. What had happened to him.

Because this isn't what should have happened. Awakening in this bed. Being alive.

He should have been dead.

"Where am I...?"

"Oh! You're awake! Hi!" The cheerful voice called out from his side. Straining with no small amount of effort and pain he turned to see a youthful woman with flaming red hair hop out from the bubbling pots she had been tending to in the small cottage's kitchen and rush directly to his side, with far more energy and enthusiasm then he had ever seen in a person before and thought possible. "It's been a couple of days since I found you so I wasn't sure you were ever going to wake up... but the doctor said you would, and you have! So I'm glad! As for where we are... we're in a cottage on the outskirts of Rafel that the doctor let me borrow! Honestly I got so scared when I saw you... really, really scared but... you're going to be okay! Just... hey!" The cheerful girl suddenly frowned intensely, placing her hands upon his shoulders and pushing him back down hard into the bed when he tried to get out. "Don't move so much otherwise you're going to hurt yourself again, okay?! Stay still and rest!"

What was... just who was this woman?

"Geez... you need to take some time and let your body mend, alright?" The red haired woman continued with a deep poutful sigh and her arms folded over her chest. Shaking her head from side to side, her ponytail swishing back and forth. "Now just rest and let me take care of you, okay? Dinner's almost ready." She then turned around and hopped back towards the kitchen and the meal she was preparing.

"Who..." He struggled to speak meekly. "Who are you?"

nH3oLBg.png


"Huh?" The girl suddenly stopped, straightening up from when she had been bending over and looking into the bubbling pot. "Ah! I completely forgot to introduce myself! I'm Estelle! Estelle Fenix, H Rank Guilder Extraordinaire! I'm going to be the best swordsman the world's ever seen!!" Turning around in a dramatic fashion, Estelle thrust a thumb out and pointed it directly at her chest, beaming proudly. And then... "Oh. That reminds me actually. I don't know who you are!"

The man stopped. Hesitated. "I..."

"Ah! Food's burning! Wait a second!" Before the man could answer Estelle span around once more, tending to the dinner she was cooking as best she could whilst also panicking. Ten minutes later, and after a fire had been put out...

"Well? How is it? Pretty good, right? Right?" Estelle sat on the edge of the bed, eyes glued to watching him try to eat her cooking. A pale face had gone even more white, yet Estelle didn't notice this. "Oh, by the way! Your glasses are right there on the drawer next to you! The ones you had looked pretty messed up, so I got you a new pair! I hope they're okay!"

Turning his head, he looked towards the bedside cabinet beside him and the rounded spectacles that rested atop. He said nothing, simply silently staring at them, and then back towards Estelle. Looking up absentmindedly at the ceiling, Estelle was whistling to herself as her legs rocked back and forth.
He swallowed his first mouthful. It was the worst food he had ever eaten. Horribly burnt and not at all reminiscent of whatever it was Estelle was supposed to have been cooking.

But it was still the best meal he had eaten in years.

"...Marcus." He finally said aloud. Broken out of her reverie, Estelle blinked and turned to look down at the injured man. "My name is Marcus. Marcus Wiseman."

5mI4saQ.png


Estelle grinned. "Pleased to meetcha, Marcus!!"


One Year Later
???

He stared at the rounded spectacles in his hands, the reflection of a tired man staring back from within the lenses. His eyes narrowed, the man in the glasses returning the mirrored look. The judging look.

"We're here."

His head lifted up, attention diverted from the spectacles and to the surroundings he found himself in. The darkened, metallic interior of an airship in midflight, of which he was sitting down and buckled onto a seat. His attention first rested upon the woman who sat silently on the seat's opposite him, a beautiful woman with long, flowing emerald locks falling and resting down to the middle of her back, a staff resting across her lap. She met his gaze but said nothing, instead looking down the ship's corridor that seperated their two facing seats and to the source of the voice located just before the door to the ship's bridge. A man with jet black hair and neutral expression awaited them, striding down the corridor from the ship's bridge and towards its rear. The man with the spectacles waited for the airship to slowly, gradually come to a controlled landing and final stop before unbuckling his belt and standing up in time to that of the emerald haired woman, turning and following after the black haired man.

With a loud metallic clunk and whirr, the rear of the airship opened, slowly lowering down to form a ramp to the ground. From it emerged the ship's first three passengers, followed by yet more whom had been riding elsewhere upon the craft. One, a bubblegum blowing, pink haired pigtailed young girl with a staff absentmindedly twirling about in her hands. Another a man in a horrifying white mask. And another who's entire body was obscured from sight by the hooded cloak that he wore. They stepped out from the airship and onto the heliport that awaited them, wasting little time as they crossed it towards the double doors of the large, metal facility before them. The man with the spectacles spared but a brief look towards the red glow of the sun reflected upon the seas surrounding the island, and the sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs below, before resuming his stride beside his partners.

It had been a long time since he was last here. But now he was back.

He was home.

Deep within the bowels of the great metal facility another series of doors finally opened, admitting the entourage into a large, darkened room that was home to a large, hollowed out, oval shaped table with thirteen seats arranged around it. Inside the room waited four more individuals, turning to silently look towards their six companions. One was a woman with long red hair, seated down on one of the thirteen seats with a young firon pup in her lap whom she frequently petted. Across from her on the opposite side of the table was a bald headed man who relaxed with his feet atop the table and an expression that demonstrated not a single care in the world, busily munching on a banana of all things. Seated somewhere inbetween these two individuals, facing across from the door that admitted the group's entry was an aged woman with white hair and red glasses. Standing up, just behind her with large arms crossed over a mighty, broad chest was yet another man whose visage was masked by the large hood of the cloak he wore. Giant feathered wings extended outwards from his back.

"We're back," Spoke the raven haired man as he crossed inbetween the gap that ran inbetween the two sides of the oval shaped table and to a pedestal that rose up from the floor within its centre. "And the mission was a success. We retrieved the White Magisphere... and a Black one too." From out of the man's pockets he pulled out the two glowing orbs, one a bright, pulsing white, the other a dark ebony.

"The white is exactly as I had foretold," The woman in the red glasses replied. "That makes four of the seven. But..." Her head quirked to the side, expression changing. Confused. "...a black as well? And this... this is...?"

"Indeed." The raven haired man continued. "My son has returned to us."

The silver haired man with the spectacles said nothing. He simply looked out towards the other gathered within the room. Then the winged man spoke.

"It's good to see you again, Mathias. It's been a long time." Then, turning his attention to the group's leader; the raven haired man. "Is this all of us? I thought that-"

"Our other companion is busy escorting a couple of prisoners to the cells as we speak," Replied the raven haired man. "And as for the other two..."

"They should still be busy on a mission of their own. No?" Interjected the emerald tressed woman.

"Hmm. It's been a long time since we were all gathered together. It would have just been... interesting to see them again."

"They'll return here soon." Spoke up the woman with the red glasses. "And carrying another of the great seven with them."

Meanwhile, the raven haired man walked around the pedestal in the room's center, a giant, metal obelisk with hundreds of circular reliefs embedded within it. Seven slots rested in its middle, whilst several dozens more surrounded out from it in a circle, etched lines joining the circles together in a very particular way. The seven circles in the center were already home to three glowing white Magispheres, whilst dotted around the remaining slots were more then a dozen more black Magispheres. The raven haired man inserted the two he carried with him into their respective slots. There the entire metal relief pulsed and hummed, the numerous spheres glowing together, before the obelisk descended back down and into the ground.

7U6SvBB.png

LUGXx92.png

VEYoZfn.png

lXg2dEk.png

rRZvocW.png

f3XsJbp.png

hndJjt2.png

kxI4Jju.png

ZiFrWEE.png

R6sZbFz.png


"Together we, The Celestials, are now one step closer." The raven haired man spoke lowly to his companions within the room.

"One step closer to saving the world."











 
Last edited:
"All my life I wanted to go out into the world... to live and experience an adventure. To follow in the footsteps of all those great authors whose works inspired me as a little girl and to go out and write about my own. My own story. It had always been my dream.

I just never expected it to begin a mere ten days after I set out... and to occur in the way that it did. It changed my life. Completely. Would it be for the better? Or the worse? I couldn't say. Not at first. But by the end I would know."

From the journals of Milia Silverstein

Two Years Later
Three hours from Now


sHx37b6.png

ijgQrHp.png


Halfway across the Orial Bridge connecting the Continents of Arabrasia and Cerenis
The Steam Engine; Flying Courage: Carriage Six


What had begun as a peaceful and idyllic, if not overly long, train ride upon the Flying Courage travelling from Kabalic City in Arabrasia to Venren in Cerenis had rapidly and without warning become much, much worse. The cheerful quiet and smooth ride that its passengers enjoyed was all too suddenly shattered, to be replaced with fear and danger.

And I... I was caught directly in the center of it.

"That's it!" Bellowed a loud and burly man from one end of the carriage after a loud bang from its door crashing open sounded out. Then, the clicking and pumping of several firearms. "Nobody move!" The man continued. "This is a hold up!!"

A chorus of shocked and confused murmurs arose like a wave from the passengers inside the train's carriage, as the group of four men proceeded to move throughout the length of the carriage, firearms held up for all to easily see as they moved to secure both of the carriage's exits and make plain to all those aboard just how serious and hopeless the situation was for the people aboard. Carriage Six was not the only carriage belonging to the Flying Courage to witness such an scene - all throughout the train's many carriages the same scene was repeated with more nefarious men brandishing aloft guns and other fearsome weaponry. Who were they? Bandits? Thieves? Something else?

Sitting halfway down the carriage in aisle seat 32B, Milia Silverstein watched as everything unfolded around with jaw opened wide, utterly speechless. Like her fellow passengers, Milia was both worried and nervous, and yet... that was not the only thing she discovered she was feeling. To her own surprise and fright she was feeling... excited. This had been exactly the kind of thing she had been hoping to go out and experience after leaving the monastery ten days ago to find adventure. One could only hope however that she wouldn't live to regret it.

She instinctively flinched, as did much of the carriage's other occupants did when the man who had shouted before did so again - so loud and commanding was he that there was little doubt who of the four men within the carriage was in charge. The large shotgun he carried and axe buckled on his back only served to add to the intensity. "If all of you remain quiet and still, and do exactly as we tell you without trying any funny business, I can promise to you all now that no harm will befall you! But if any of get any stupid ideas, well... let's just say that things can and will turn unpleasant very quickly. For you. So bare that in mind. We can do this an easy way, or a hard way. Does everyone understand?!"

There were many hesitant nods, but no actively spoken replies.

"Good. Good! I see we have some quick learners here. Very good." With a low laugh, the man's lips spread apart to reveal a insidious, malicious rictus of a grin.

"Now, two of my boys here will slowly walk down the train. All of you - and I do mean all of you - will empty all of your wallets and valuables into the bags they're carrying. Is that understood? Good. Remember what I said. If you all behave and co-operate nicely, I can promise you now that nobody will be hurt, and we'll all be on our merry way very quickly."

"I can't believe this is happening..." Milia whispered under her breath , her head turning left and right as she watched two of the thugs slowly walk up. The look of sadness, worry and fear that embraced her fellow passengers' faces was all consuming. The deep sighs and sags of resignation from those people giving up all that was precious and valuable to them mixed in with the self satisfaction of the men who had taken them all hostage painted a truly awful and depressing situation. But as much as any of the men or women aboard might have wished otherwise, what other choice did they have?

'I can't believe I'm going to lose all of my money already...' Milia sighed as she thought to herself, opening her purse and inspecting the Mira inside. All of her life's meagre savings, to be gone in a flash. Better that then the alternative, however.

But not her quill or journal. No matter what might happen, she couldn't give that up. She refused. Moving as deftly as she could, she pulled the two items from her purse and hid them behind her back.

"In the bag." Said the man who appeared beside Milia, shocking her out of her thoughts. In contrast to the group's leader he was much a more smaller, scrawnier man, yet no less dangerous an individual. With a grimace, Milia moved to place her purse inside the bag... only to stop when the man spoke again.

"Hey you. Didn't you hear what we said? Everything needs to go in the bag. Everything!"

Her body frozen, Milia slowly started to look up, her body laced with fear and trepidation. Had the man seen her hide her pen and notebook? Was she now in trouble... in danger of something horrible? But how and why?! Even though they were much, much more then what they appeared to be, to the common layman they should have still just been a notebook and quill. Inconsequential. So then why...?

And that was when Milia discovered the man wasn't actually looking at her, but past her and to the woman who was sitting next to Milia in the window seat. So far throughout the entire ride Milia had not seen her say anything, even when Milia tried to briefly speak to her, so consumed was she in listening to the headphones she wore atop her head. Milia had actually forgotten the young woman was even there!

The man repeated himself, but again the woman sitting next to Milia made no reaction. Instead she had her eyes closed, chin resting on one hand supported by her elbow atop the window side's arm rest, her other arm hidded beneath the large poncho she wore. Had she really not even noticed anything that had been happening? Did she not know the train had been hijacked by armed thugs?

'Oh no... this is bad...'

"Hey!" Shouted out the group's leader, blocking the door towards Carriage No.7. "Do we have a problem here?"

"N-no!" Shouted back the scrawnier man. "No problem, boss. Nothing I can't handle. You!" After replying to his commander the man turned his attention back towards the headphones wearing woman beside the window. Now raising his voice ever louder; "I said to put everything you have into the bag!"

She didn't respond.

Milia was paralysed with horror. This wouldn't end well. It simply couldn't. But what could she do?!

"Tsk. Wise guy, huh?" The man dropped his bag to the ground, reaching a hand behind his back and pulling out a handgun which he promptly levelled at the woman's head. The firearm rested mere inches in front of Milia's face. All breath was stolen from her lungs.

With his other hand he reached out and grabbed the woman's headphones, plucking them off. As he did he smirked. This would teach the little bitch some respect. "You. Woman. Like I said before, everything in the bag! If you value your life you'll-"

What happened next was a blur. In the blink of an eye the woman beside the window had been seated. The next her hand had shot out from beneath her poncho and grabbed the arm of the man holding the gun. The rest of her body was already moving, flipping over Milia and into the carriage aisle, above the man. Her foot, spinning overhead, came down atop the man's head. Hard. Without any sense of warning whatsoever it struck him like a sledgehammer, slamming him directly down, a one-two combo where his jaw then collided hard with the carriage's floor. Both the gun and headphones he had been holding fell out of his grasp the minute he had been struck, falling towards the ground. He succumbed to unconscious. Both Milia and the rest of the carriage's occupants watched everything unfolded with stunned disbelief.

What had just... what had just happened...?!

The three remaining men moved to direct their weapons towards the woman as she landed in a crouch above the unconscious man's body, poncho splayed out around her. Her hand shot out and grabbed her headphones, as the man's gun clattered beneath Milia's seat. Milia still couldn't believe everything she was watching. Who on Ddaear was this woman...?

"The hell is going on?!" Boomed the thugs' leader, stepping forwards and levelling his shotgun down the aisle towards the woman. His subordinate down the aisle flinched and backed himself down one of the seats, much to the horror and shrieking of the two women sitting there. Getting in the way of the boss and his shotgun was not a good idea in the slightest.

"Nobody." The woman finally started to speak. Milia blinked in surprise as the woman started to rise and lift her head up, blue hair parting to finally expose her face. "Nobody touches my headphones!"

0d3ljJZ.png

 
Now

2M412pI.png

ijgQrHp.png

Kabalic City: Vainquer Street: Sunny Tulip Cafe: Time - 09:20

Sitting down in a lovely, tranquil cafe located on the side of Vainquer Street, Kabalic City's largest and busiest, bustling street with little more then a thick novel for a companion, Milia Silverstein enjoyed the delights that only a mid morning breakfast routine such as this could arouse, with a good cup of coffee going down well with the half eaten and then forgotten marmalade toast she had ordered earlier. Despite how busy the city had already become and the many loud and vibrant sounds which emanated out all around her, Milia was deaf and blind to her surroundings, consumed instead by the wonderful adventure that poured out from within her book.

The young and beautiful, bespectacled, book loving woman, clad in a simple and modest white and purple attire, had already spent the better part of two hours in the table outside the cafe simply reading and laughing, crying and gasping aloud to herself as she poured over the novel's contents. Milia had attracted many a number of strange looks from passerbys when a very shocked and loud reaction would erupt from her lips. Those same passerbys however would simply laugh heartily after their initial surprise; wild and exaggerated Milia's reactions might have been, but the young woman was harmless and clearly having fun. Why do anything to ruin that?

The problem however was getting too engrossed within her novel. Milia had come here early in order to make sure she had plenty of time to spare in finding the train station (which the cafe was located just directly opposite of) and making sure she wasn't late for her train's departure - tickets for the long distance journey between Arabrasia's Kabalic City and Cerenis' Venren City didn't come cheap. A departure which was scheduled to leave at 09:45... and which was now already 09:40.

If it wasn't for the waitress trying to prompt Milia a dozen times and ask her if she wanted a refill, Milia's adventure would have ended before it had already began.

"Huh? Who? What? How?" Sputtered Milia, blinking rapidly upon being dragged screeching back to her surroundings. Arching her head to the side and looking towards the giant clock tower located a short distance away, the delight and mirth which had graced Milia's face mere moments ago drained away completely, to be replaced by horror and panic.

Flipping out of her chair she screamed. Spilling what little coffee remained in her cup over her book, she screamed even louder.

"Eyaaah, I'm going to be late!" She wailed in a high pitch fluster. Digging deep inside her purse for the correct change, Milia placed down the mira for the meal atop the plastic table, before quickly turning and sprinting off for the train station, dissapearing behind a thronging crowd that weaved to and fro, leaving a very confused and perturbed waitress behind.

"Um..." The waitress started to speak. "You left your book behind, miss...?"

And then, suddenly, Milia came bursting out of the crowd again, kicking a trail of dust up behind her and screeching to a halt beside the table. Quickly snatching her book back up again, Milia turned automatically dissapeared for the train station once more.

"And... your change...?"



"Hmm... not bad, Floyd. Not bad. I like it. Balance and weight all feel good. You did a marvelous job on Holly, Floyd, you really did. And Charlotte? Well she's just as beautiful too."

IXFdb4D.png


Kabalic City: Trebalm Alley: Floyd's Weapons: Time - 09:10

Holding the revolvers aloft and peering down their sights, Flynn Oretgo, a man garbed in a very simple and rudimentary white top, black pants and a drab and heavy, brown duster coat, lifted and twirled the two weapons aloft and inspected them both with his usual due care and diligence in the center of Floyd's weapons shop. As Flynn continued to twirl his two prized revolvers around in the center of the shop's floor space, its owner watched him with his face resting upon one hand, and a creeping smile stretched across his face.

"Well what did you expect, Flynn?" Replied the aged man with a satisfied grin. "Did I or did I not say to you that ol'Floyd does the best weapons and maintenance work you could ever hope to find inside this city?"

"That you did indeed say." Grinned back Flynn, twirling the two revolvers casually about his index fingers as he began to stroll back towards the counter, satisfied and pleased with the two guns. "And you weren't lyin' too. And all for such a reasonable price too. Thanks, Floyd." Reaching down to his belt and pulling out a coin purse, Flynn flicked through his change to hand towards Floyd, before being stopped by the store owner's hand blocking him off.

"No charge, Flynn, not after the help you gave me. Consider this one on the house."

"Much 'preciated, Floyd. Very kind of you." Flynn grinned and nodded, his short ponytail bobbing up and down. "Oh, did you manage to get the ammo too?" Asked Flynn, as his eyes wandered over the rest of the store's wares lined across the walls and displays. They had everything from firearms to swords and blades, clubs and everything else one might expect.

"I got what I managed to scrounge." Floyd bent down and picked up a small but heavy wooden box from underneath the counter. "Not much there though, I'm afraid, so you're going to want to be careful with how you spend it."

"Will do, Floyd. Will do. Thanks again." Flynn quickly scooped up the box and carefully placed it inside the leather sack lying on the floor, tying it closed by its strings and then lifting it up and slinging it over his shoulder. "And with all that said, well... I'm 'fraid to say that this is goodbye, Floyd. I don't think I'll be back here for quite a while."

"Oh?" The weapon owner's eyes widened in surprise. "Then you mean it wasn't here? Tch, that's a shame... I'm sorry to hear that Flynn. I hope you're able to find it soon. Where you heading to, next?"

"Venren City, I reckon. Had meself a tip they were there. We'll see."

"I hope it pans out this time."

"Me too, Floyd, me too. Gotta head out now, otherwise I'll miss my train. Next time I'm back in town tho, drinks are on me, yeah?"

"I'll hold you to it. Good luck out there, Flynn."

"Same to you, Floyd! Same to you!"

With a loud jingle the door's bell rang out as Flynn casually strolled on down towards the train station.
 
Last edited:
67s7Uv4.png
~"Life is but a whisper of music, it is up to the individual to hear it's sound and ultimately, define it"~​


The young women exhaled softly to the sound of the beautifully played instruments, her mind stolen and thrust into a state of complete serenity as she listened while the artists before her demonstrated their art form.
With a modicum of grace she the young women raised a hot cup of water to her lips, taking a small sip from it as she enjoyed the flavor of the leaves within it's contents, tea being a common favorite of hers. "Wonderful" she spoke, her words every bit as soft as the gentle movements she made while sat at the table across from where the musicians played.


The establishment where she'd decided to wait was an outdoor extension to a restaurant, chairs situated around tables spaced apart with parasols to guard against the sun. It was a beautiful place and as such attracted many customers whom also sat to enjoy the music, talking among themselves and going about their daily lives.
"Excuse me miss, would you perhaps like some more tea?" the voice belonging to a waiter disturbed her from her train of thought, pulling her attention from her surroundings and towards him.
"Oh, no thank you. I have train which departs soon" she replied with a small smile, inclining her head respectfully. The waiter gave a single nod before he took his leave.

Once again she took hold of the cup, raising it to her lips and taking another sparing sip before her eyes drew down to a map she'd recently acquired, her train ticket beside it.
It appeared she was planning a journey, which in truth was pretty accurate. After all she was here for a reason and one which was fairly important, and not just for her. 'Peculiar' she thought to herself as her finger traced the train route to the next city, hoping it would provide her with some more answers which she'd been searching for over the previous months.
After having examined it for a few moments more she picked herself up and stowed her map and ticket into a small bag which hung by her waist, leaving a couple of strange gold coins before taking her leave from the restaurant. She'd arrive shortly at the station, ready to board her train to the city which called itself 'Cerenis'.
 
ms7EdEb.png


Kabalic City: Train Station - Locomotive Yard - 9:20 AM

“Aha, so that’s how it works!” Rehna cooed, sitting amongst a pile of parts and gears. To her left was the open remains of the train’s control panel, the wooden facade removed and tossed on the floor. Within was a mess of gears, wires, levers, and pulleys - all of which Rehna had spent the previous two hours examining and destroying.

Well, not destroying per se. It would work perfectly, once Rehna figured out how it all went back together again. She just needed a little bit of time…

“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU???”

Rehna jumped, bolts and parts spilling from her lap in a cacophonous shower. Backing away from the mess she had made, she lifted her hands in supplication to the infuriated conductor.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY TRAIN???”

“I’ll put it back together, honest,” she said quickly. “I just wanted to know how it worked, and I checked the schedule, this train isn’t supposed to run today - ”

The conductor was having none of it though, as he reached out and grabbed her by her arm. “Get the hell off my train before I think better of it, you stupid kid.”

“Ah, yes, thank you,” Rehna babbled, grabbing her backpack and backpedalling away. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble!”

“OUT!”

And with that Rehna ran, hopping down from the train and running pell mell through the yard, biting back a laugh.

Hell, she was getting rusty. All that time working in Andrew’s shop had left her sense dull. She never would have been caught before. Seems he had been right to send her out on this supply run. Rehna did need time out of the shop if she was letting train conductors catch her in her salvaging.

Aww well. It didn’t matter much anyway. Some yelling she could handle, besides, it was nearly time to find her train anyway. Though she didn’t have the chance to put the console back together, the man had probably done her a favor by kicking her out.

Yeah, a favor. Right nice of him, that was.

Beaming a smile a bright as the morning sun, Rehna rummaged in her pockets. “Where are you…where are you…” No, that wasn’t it. That was a wrench, a small magnifying she had nicked from Andrew, a random screw and —- “GOTCHA!”

She pulled her ticket out, waving it in the air. Passage to Cerenis, a prepaid transfer from her train that had arrived the previous night.

“Cerenis, get ready! Here I come!”
 
RjT0Eqr.png

Kabalic City: Vainquer Street: Maksim Boutique: Time - 09:38

You’d think that with the number of people living in this city, at least a few of them would have acceptable taste in fashion.

Estefania narrowed her eyes at her reflection. She was sampling a dark blue dress with long puffed sleeves and yellow accents. After a pause, she took a step back and spun on one foot, watching as the pleated skirt smoothly followed the movement of her legs. Then she glared at her reflection again.

“Is there a problem, madam?” The manager approached with her hands clasped. She was worried that this girl would leave without paying after turning their shop upside down. To be honest, none of them expected such a domineering attitude from someone with that delicate appearance. No matter! She was a professional- oh Gods she’s about to look this way…! The primly-dressed woman cringed and straightened her back when Estefania briefly glanced towards her direction, then back at the mirror. She let out a nervous laugh. “Our clothes are of the highest-quality, I assure you.”

Highest-quality. Estefania bit her lip, but otherwise her expression remained carefully neutral. She sniffed, “It’s not Gualtierran, but I suppose it’s… adequate for my purposes.” Then, she turned on her heel and marched back inside the dressing room.

The manager sagged with relief soon as she disappeared, but then remembered the exact words said. “A-adequate!?” She gasped in horror. This was Ansel Maksim’s Boutique, a top-tier fashion establishment! Most noble families bought their clothes here, and they certainly didn’t think Maksim’s works were adequate. Gods above, the poor man would have a heart attack if he heard somebody use that word to describe his pieces…! The woman squeaked in fright when the door slammed open and the condesa walked out, pausing for only the briefest of seconds to glance up at her with obvious disinterest before moving on.

Moments later, Estefania strode out of the boutique, her hair and dress billowing out around her. A hired page carrying the boxes upon bags of her purchased items staggered out with her luggage bag in tow. “Milady, I think you’re late for the train, it usually leaves around the 40s and-”

“I will address you when I need your opinion,” Estefania held her hand up and interrupted. After making sure that her carnation brooch was steadfast on her lapel, the aristocrat finally began her stroll towards the train station, leaving behind a trail of joyously relieved employees.
 
wVK8Ikw.png


Kabalic City: Duress Road - Outside the Kabalic Bookstore

With a deep sigh, a young man robed in purple hues stepped outside of the bookstore, though lingered in the doorway. Casting his eyes skyward, Shiloh watched as the overhead clouds blew on, paving the way for a bright and sunny morning. He continued watching, feeling the sun's warmth grace his face. At this rate he'd hit the train with more than enough time to grab himself some meager breakfast and--

"Hey, kid. Move out of the doorway. Some of us need to get through!"

"Oh... right. Sorry." Shiloh kept his voice low. He quickly flipped on his hood and stepped outside into the sunshine, beside the display window. As a few customers also exited the store, he turned his attention to the display behind him. Pretty pink princess dolls, to accommodate this book featuring the same character on its cover. Shiloh stepped forward, eyes lingering on the ecstatic display of words across the book's front cover.

"Princess Petuninia!" A younger voice squealed from behind him. Shiloh glanced over his shoulder to see a little girl's face glued to the window, ogling the book and dolls with awe. And fogging up the screen with her heavy breathing. She must have been no more than six or seven. Shiloh smiled at her enthusiasm, even when she sharply turned to look at him. Quite a big frown on her face as well. "Mister, can I have some money? Mommy won't give me any and I reaaaally want a Princess Petuninia dolly and my birthday's tomorrow but Mommy said I have too much stuff but you can't have too much Princess Petuninia and..."

As she went on and on, Shiloh carefully withdrew a small grey coin pouch from his pocket. Before he could loosen the top, however, the girl's mother appeared and dragged her away by the wrist. Blankly, Shiloh watched as the two disappeared into another street, bickering all the while.

He sighed once again and opened up the pouch anyway, this time withdrawing a slip of paper from the small batch of coins inside. As he too walked on from the shop, he stared at his ticket, at the string of words etched all over it. ...wait, he did ask for the right ticket, right?

"Watch where yer goin', punk!"
"Anyone ever tell you to watch where you're going!?"
"You're gonna get yourself hurt!"

Face reddened, Shiloh mumbled a slew of apologies to the throng of people he walked into as he briskly moved around them. Eyes still on his ticket.
 
YYizunD.png


Kabalic City: Guild Building - 09:23am

"-And of course it caught on fire! It's only resistant to ice, you dimwit- I told you to stay away from sparks, didn't I?"

"Give you a discount? I'm charging you extra! Do you realize how long it took me to get the detailing right!?"

"All I did was mention how much money you owed me, you don't have to cry..."

Amidst the hustle and bustle of the Kabalic City Guild one well-dressed tailor was busy packing up her corner booth into a small suitcase, finally having filled up her wallet tied up loose ends after chasing down goodness-knows-how-many Guilders. Cashmere dabs at her brow with a small handkerchief, taking a deep breath to collect herself. Really, did nobody here know how to take proper care of clothes? Well, no matter. She was leaving the city today anyways, they'd just have to go find someone else to mend their clothing from today onwards. Now let's see, where did she put her sewing kit...?

Everything fit neatly into her suitcase and soon she was packed and ready to go. She had... A little more than 20 minutes to board the train? Looks like it had taken quite a while longer than she had expected to finish up in here, but if it meant leaving everyone here just a little bit better dressed then it would have been worth it. The station was close by, anyways.

She waves at the secretary as she leaves- "I'll be taking my leave, now. I'll contact you when I arrive in Venren,"- and soon she's back out in the early morning sunshine, heels clicking on the neatly paved streets. She briefly paused in front of a boutique windows as she passed to give her reflection a quick once over. Shoulders back, head high, confident look. Shoes were shined, dress was wrinkle free, and- oops. She quickly adjusted her ponytail. There, all better. With a pleased nod to herself she continued to head towards the train station a short distance away.

Cerenis... What kind of rare materials would she find there?
 
sHx37b6.png

ijgQrHp.png


Arabrasia: Kabalic City: Train Platform No.3: Time - 09:44
"Ah! *huff... huff...* w-wait...!" Breathing heavily and racing as fast as she could (which honestly wasn't that fast, considering Milia certainly wasn't built for it) she weaved her way through the crowds as best she could with all due haste and crossed the street to hop onto the train platform. Milia's crowd weaving was actually far simpler said then done, with the number of poor people Milia had bumped into and almost bodily collided into nearly reaching double figures. But through some remarkable luck Milia had gotten to the train just in time, and hopped on its thirteenth carriage with less then a minute left before the The Flying Courage closed its doors, the engine and its many conductors blowing their whistles and signifying the onset of the steam engine's journey to Cerenis' Venren City.

"Ph-phew. That was close..." Milia breathed a sigh of relief, steadying herself against one of the fanciful and beautifully decorated carriage's wooden walls. Regaining her breath and stamina, Milia stood up tall, checking her surroundings and then reaching down into the purse of her satchel and rummaging around for her ticket. "Now I wonder which one's my... seat..." Milia's voice trailed off, her face turning completely deadpan as she stared down at the numbers and letters printed upon her ticket.

Seat 32B: Carriage Six.

Six.

And she was in thirteen.

Milia's shoulders sagged as she breathed a heavy sigh. She still had plenty of walking to do then... but getting her bearings and seeing where the food cart was still sounded like a good idea.

A large and famously proud steam engine, the Flying Courage was currently in the midst of carrying twenty carriages with her on a trip beginning in Arabrasia's Kabalic City and eventually terminating in the distant country of Cerenis' Venren City. The two countries were seperated by a large and expansive body of sea that was connected together by one of mankind's greatest achievements, the impossibly long Oriel Bridge, which stretched well over 5000 arge apart. Stopping at several more destinations enroute to Venren City, the journey was estimated to take as long as eight hours in total, not reaching the train's venerable destination until early evening. It would be a long, and in some ways exhaustive trip, but such was the nature of the beast.

Not all of the Flying Courage's twenty carriages were reserved for the use of passengers, however. Whilst its first four carriages housed private cabins for those whom wished (and could afford to purchase one), it was only the next eleven afterwards that were in use as commercial seating for would-be passengers in ten of them, with the other being a dining cart and shop in Carriage No.8. The train's last five carriages were actually reserved for the sole use of goods shipping, and as such none of the passengers onboard were allowed to pass on from Carriage No.15, not that any would have had any reason to go inside them anyway.

For now at the least the men and women aboard the Flying Courage could simply enjoy the ride and find some way to pass the time...
 
  • Love
Reactions: Rexcalibur
FKb7vJZ.png

Kabalic City: Main Train Station: 9:32

It was shaping up to be a fine and sunny morning in Kabalic City, just breezy enough to waft away the exhaust fumes of the station's incoming trains and bring in the tempting scents of the sea. There were only a few sorts of people who wouldn't enjoy a day like today; and among them was a fellow stuck in a cramped little ticket box with a belt too tight, who was staring down at his newest bureaucratic problem with the eyes of someone who'd gotten up at the awful wee hours of the morning.

"For the last time," the ticket master snapped over the stile, "there are no more tickets available on this train. None, zilch! That's what booking a ticket is for, buddy, it's standard procedure."

The bureaucratic problem, which owned a load of orange hair and a panicked expression (and not much else), wailed and clutched at the ticket stile. "C'mon, please! I have enough money for it, don't I? More than enough!"

"Counted out in penny coins, yes," the ticket master grunted, glancing at the absurd pile of tiny coinage heaped in front of him.

"Well, that's not illegal, is it?" Domino responded, doing his best to look like an upstanding member of society, because upstanding members of society would never gain most of their income from scrounging in city fountains. "Listen, my guy, I'll do anything to get on this train. Anything! If you – if you want me to pay you extra, I can find –!"

"You won't be finding anything," the ticket master grunted, turning away impatiently. "The train's leaving in ten minutes."

Domino grabbed the counter of the ticket booth and hauled himself up, until he was eye-to-eye with the man in the chair. His jacket wriggled slightly in response to being crushed against the edge of the countertop; Domino tried to play this off as ferocious shivering, with little success. It was hard to be intimidating when you're barely five feet tall.

"Listen, pal," he said, trying to keep his voice low and growly; "If you don't want to let me in as a passenger, I'll go on as a ticket boy or something. Anything, any free space you've got. I'm getting on this damn train if it kills me!"

The ticket master blinked, peering over his stack of forms at the boy. "I don't think –"

"I will pay you," Domino said loudly, "to work on your train. You don't have to pay me or anything, just take the money and think of me as hired help!"

Domino could tell the guy was caving. The ticket master glanced at the pile of little coins, and then muttered, "Well – I suppose if there's a spot – um... What sort of experience do you have?"

-----

A few minutes later, Domino was scampering into the 8th carriage on the Flying Courage, grinning like a maniac and holding a small, crumpled piece of paper with "please assign to Mr. Thrace as temporary Assistant Dining Car Cook" scribbled on it. He couldn't believe it! He'd done it, he'd... He was really traveling away from Kabalic City, to places unknown – to seek his fortunes. His mother would be so proud of him – if, well, she knew about any of it.

For a moment, Domino paused in his eagerness, one hand on the carriage door, smile fading.

His clothes wriggled again, and this time an audible hiss rose from it. The smile returned with a vengeance. "Mr. Bigs," Domino whispered. "We're off. It's showtime!"

With a jaunty hop, the young man slid into the Flying Courage, paper in hand, flute in pocket, and long multilegged draconic lizard curled up inside his jacket.
 
ms7EdEb.png


Arabrasia: The Flying Courage Carriage 8: Time - 09:45

“You’ve got breakfast right? Pleeeeeeease tell me there are sandwiches!” Reyna’s stomach choose that moment grumble, the sound echoing from her in a rather shocking fashion. “Ehehehe.”

The attendant shook his head, an amused smile on his face. “This is the dining car, ma’am, course we have breakfast sandwiches. How would you like it?”

“Eggs! And cheese! And bacon, extra bacon - all of your bacon.” Reyna practically bounced her seat. “And coffee!”

The attendant looked a little nervous at providing her with caffeine, giving how energetic she was, but it wasn’t his place to argue with a customer. “On a bagel?”

“Sesame, if you have it!”

The man nodded, sliding his notepad into the front pocket of his apron. “I’ll be back with your coffee momentarily.”

“Thaaaanks!” Reyna waved at him as he walked away, even though the man was just doing his job. No need to be so…friendly. Well, what now?

Even though it was still early in the morning, the dining car was fairly empty, leaving Rehna with a whole booth to herself. Well, if nobody minded…

She slammed her back on the table, pulling out a notebook and pen. Several other knickknacks fell out as well, everything from little gears to marbles and something that looked like a half-completed mechanical Weiner dog. But what she needed right now was her BIG BOOK OF STUFF.

Seriously, that what it was called. Labeled in big, sprawling red letters across the cover.

Settling in, Rehna flipped to the first clean page and started to take notes on the engine she had dismantled this morning. Little diagrams, annotations, thoughts and theories all spread out across the page in no discernible order. Though she started a thought writing normally across the line, she ended up finishing it diagonally down the page. What? There was a totally-not-to-scale sketch of the console in the way.

Immersed her in work, she barely noticed the waiter return with her coffee, or the cart starting to fill up with other passengers. No, she had to get this information down now, while it was still fresh in her head. She was so focused, in fact, that she probably wouldn’t notice if someone sat down across from her in the booth.

The seat was, after all, not taken.
 
wVK8Ikw.png


Kabalic City: The Flying Courage - 0940

"Excuse... where is Carriage Number Eight?"

"Uhhh you're totally going the wrong way, hun. This is Number 14. Eight's back there."

"Okay. Thank you."

Shiloh gave the grumpy mother a nod before heading back in the direction he came from. Normally others would be annoyed at the time wasted traveling from one end of the cart to the other, but at least he was on the train. He clutched his paper bag against his chest whenever he had to squeeze through any doorways or - "Excuse... pardon..." - between random people standing around and taking up space.

It only took a few minutes before he reached the correct carriage - which he knew was the right one considering the luscious smell of eggs and bacon wafting in the air. He tilted his head back, taking in the smell as a soft smile crept along his lips. He watched curiously as an energetic lass loudly took up a whole table with her goodies. Well, trains attracted all sorts of people, didn't they? Following Rehna's lead, Shiloh approached an attendant.

"Excuse - what do you have?"

"The menu's right here, sir."

"Oh, of course. Um. What she's eating." He nudged his head in Rehna's direction. "May I?"

It wasn't long before Shiloh too had gotten himself some food. Unlike some of the others who proceeded with their orders and then sat down, Shiloh decided to stand to the side alone and watch out one of the plentiful windows as he bit into his sandwich. There, he was oblivious (or simply ignored) any of the scampering or ruckus noises that came with those bursting into the cart. It wasn't polite to stare, after all. The train's light rumbling eventually knocked Shiloh's hood off, but he made no attempt to flop it back on.

Eight hours was quite a long time to be sitting in a train. But at least he had a book to keep himself occupied in the meantime. After he finished savoring his meal, anyway.
 
Last edited:
67s7Uv4.png

~" It is by faith that poetry, as well as devotion, soars above this dull earth; that imagination breaks through its clouds, breathes a purer air, and lives in a softer light."~

~Arabrasia: The Flying Courage Carriage 8: Time - 09:45~

The air broke in the wake of the train as it hissed like a colossal snake made of metal, it's steamed breath washing across the platform before dissipating into the humid air. 'Amazing' she thought to herself as she gazed upon the magnificent machine in owe, having never seen such a thing like it back from where it was she'd hailed from. Of course it wasn't as if she'd never seen transport before, but nothing such as this. The young woman looked about the platform as her cerulean eyes observed the other people going about their everyday lives, some saying their goodbyes while others preparing for a well earned vacation to some place far from home. She smiled softly, taking the time to absorb some of the atmosphere created here. It was... exciting, to say the least and it perhaps wasn't all to do with the atmosphere, but also towards her own feelings for the journey ahead.

Naomi reached into her bag before pulling out her ticket once more, observing the writing upon it as she double checked this was the correct train leaving for her destination of Cerenis. Her ear slightly lifted when a whistle pierced the air, prompting many whom still remained on the platform to quickly gather their things and make haste to board the machine. "Excuse me, miss?" a ticket officer hung from between two of the carriages by one hand, looking down upon her with a friendly smile. "If you plan to board the train I'd do it now, it'l be leaving shortly and I'd hate to see you left behind" he said, giving an old tired smile. He was an older man, his eyes and demeanor giving the impression he'd done this line of work for many years, a long wrinkled nose keeping his spectacles upon his face. Naomi inclined her head politely, "Thank you, I will" she said, stepping forwards towards the train.

The old man offered his hand and she took it graciously, the old man seeming to have kept his strength as he easily helped her from the platform and into the carriage. "There ya go miss, go get yourself settled inside, plenty to see on our route to Ceneris" he said, opening the door to allow her through before he tipped his hat. "Thank you very much" she replied with a genuine smile before walking inside, the door closing behind her just as the final whistles were sounding across the platform. Naomi looked around briefly before walking down the narrow pass that ran beside the booths, spotting a young man whom seemed to be enjoying a sandwich. "Excuse me, sorry" she said as she moved around him, apologizing for having to invade his space momentarily to move around him, spotting an empty booth just past him which she decided was a good a spot as any to await the fruition of her journey.

Naomi would slide the door open before taking a seat by the window, placing her small bag down beside her before once again taking out her map. Upon her inspection her eyes narrowed slightly, her eyes trailing the routes once more despite having done so many many times before, so much in fact she was sure she probably didn't even need a map at this point. Reaching into her bag she withdrew a pencil before marking the route, annotating beside it to indicate a few details should she need to return at a later date. Normally she wouldn't do stuff like that, but then in the back of her mind she'd always found it prudent to be thorough. She exhaled softly before leaning back into the seat, closing her eyes to take a minute for herself. There was much she still needed to think about and despite the many wonders she was experiencing, she couldn't allow herself to become distracted, or complacent.
 
YYizunD.png


Arabrasia: The Flying Courage: Carriage 8

It didn't take long for her to find her seat and stow away her suitcase. The train was nothing over-the-top fancy, with some tasteful furnishings here and there. The VIP carriages up front were probably much fancier with private little rooms to a passenger. If only she had the money to spend on things like that... Well, no matter. The regular seats would be comfortable enough even for such a long journey- She could work on some embroidery, maybe finish that sweater she was knitting. Eight hours was plenty of time after all, and perhaps she'd even have time left over to take a nap.

Her stomach growled and Cashmere was quickly reminded that she had yet to eat breakfast. It would be good to go find a seat in the dining carriage before all the seats were taken, get something to eat then go to work. She was rather intent on finishing that sweater today, after all.

Instead she quickly ordered a pot of tea and a quiche, then slipped into an open booth near the man looking as thoughtful as one could be with a sandwich in hand. She didn't pay him any mind, instead pulling out her embroidery frame in order to pass the time until her order arrived. The food was supposed to be quite good according to various people from the Guild. Normally she wouldn't put too much stock in their tastes considering that they'd be willing to shove anything down their gullets and anything even vaguely fancy drew tears of joy, but considering some passengers in this cart looked like the high-society type perhaps the rumours were to believed after all.

A small movement had her glance up from her needlework- The man's hood had fallen. She blinked and returned to her work, paused, and blinked again before looking up to peer at the cloak.

... A tear. There was a tear in his cloak and she had to quickly remind herself that going up to a strangers and patching up their clothes was not proper behavior. Not proper behavior at all. Her fingers twitched.
 
o6FPW04.png

Kabalic City: Vainquer Street, Outside The Hearty Sage Inn Time: 09:00

"Do you have your ticket, dear? Would you like some eggs? At least stay for breakfast, you need your..."

The elderly innkeeper had her head tilted nearly all the way back to look up at the man, whom she spoke to in a motherly tone as she would to her own grandchildren.

Although the man was not a giant by any means, he still towered over the old woman. When she reached up to pat the side of his face he hunched down awkwardly to make it easier for her, letting her fingers brush the rough fabric mask that covered his cheek, as well as his nose and mouth. It was an odd picture; a grandmother warmly sending off an imposing-looking man who could easily pass for a brigand. "Yes, my ticket is right here. Really, I should be going, I'll help myself to the food on the train." His blue eyes crinkled with a hint of a smile, and he inched another step closer to the door.

Shaking her head, the innkeeper knew this day had been coming. It had only been a couple months, but she had grown fond of the guarded young man, who had gone above and beyond his duties as a Guilder in helping her set up the inn. The mission mostly entailed a lot of heavy lifting, but along the way a few drunkards and would-be petty thieves were handily sent on their way with only the most minimal of black eyes to both the ruffians and the masked man. She finally convinced him to stay and work for a humble wage, but it became clearer each day that he wanted to move on. His decision to leave had come about soon after her grandson became of age to travel on his own and work in his place.

"Oh, Cadfael, do take care. You don't know how much of a blessing you've been to this frail old woman. May the gods watch over your travels, and bless the path you walk."

Cadfael scoffed quietly under his breath, softly enough that the woman's failing senses couldn't hear. It was an involuntary reaction that he immediately regretted, as he did truly appreciate the sentiment. But alas, that was why he was leaving.



The Flying Courage: Carriage 7 - Time: 9:45

Cadfael sank back in his seat as he waited for the train to depart. Leaving early had worked in his favor as he was able to secure a window seat, with plenty of room to stretch his legs as no one opted to sit across from him. It was and wasn't his choice; the mask and the muscles tended to have that effect on people, and while he would never verbally discourage someone from taking a seat near him, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the privacy.

Venren City... Cadfael closed his eyes and leaned on his fist. It was going to be a long train ride, and he hoped whatever he found there would be worth the trip. Of course, it would help to know what he was looking for... the decision was based mostly on a whim, after hearing several inn patrons casually mention the city in their conversations. The name simply stuck with him, he supposed. Anywhere was essentially fair game as long as it had a Guild and something... different.

When he opened his eyes again, the carriage had filled considerably since he first arrived. Still not enough that anyone would sit within two seats of him, but enough that there was a steady undercurrent of chatter. In his single glance over the room he noted with no small amount of envy the various baked goods in the hands and laps of the other passengers. It would have to wait. Eight hours.
 
RjT0Eqr.png

The Flying Courage: Carriage 8 - 09:50

The frenetic activity within the carriage surprised her and, for a short while, Estefania doubted her decision to eat breakfast. Asides from the fact that she can, this was why she booked a private carriage; crowds and their pandemonium made her head ache. A gravelly cough from so near behind her startled the condesa and she whirled around, only to see an attendant gesturing towards a relatively empty area. A closer look showed that no passengers deigned to get close to the window for some reason, leaving behind an excess of space. As the solitary position proved to be no problem to her, she nodded and moved towards the closest available booth.

Her mood was lifted when she discovered that café con leche was included in the menu. She had been jumping from one city to another in a self-imposed race to return to Gualtierrez, and if there was one thing that could knock off her fatigue it was coffee! Gualtierran coffee! Estefania placed a hand over her brow as her features eased into a smile. It felt like her face had been frozen into a permanent scowl since… since, well. With a contented sigh, she pulled her writing implements out of her bag and arranged them on the table. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and began to write a letter, the latest in a growing pile of messages she took care to update in every dock, station, and port.

Abuelo, Abeula,
Dentro de pocos minutos, se va mi tren.


I miss the warm climes of our home and wish to be back soon. Her quill hovered above the paper as she considered writing down that thought, but decided against it and scribbled pleasantries instead. Complaining about her travels only made her miss her country more and more with each curl of ink, and she’s had enough grousing for a day. Estefania sighed, this one much less happier than the last, and leaned forward on her elbows as she turned her attention to the other passengers. Her order soon arrived and the glorious smell of rich coffee permeated the air.
 
Last edited:
ijgQrHp.png


Arabrasia: Kabalic City: The Flying Courage: Carriage No.8 (Dining Cart): Time - 10:05

Getting through the first few carriages on her way to the sixth hadn't been hard - in fact it had been pleasantly easy once everyone in there had safely stored their luggage away and seated themselves down. It was the eighth carriage, the Flying Courage's dining cart, that posed the would be hopeful writer with her incredible degree of challenge, being literally heaving with passengers, all seeking a spot to sit down and eat some breakfast from. Having woken up early in the day and procured herself that nice spot at the cafe for her morning's meal meant Milia was nicely full for the time being, or at least until lunch rolled around, so her business in the carriage should have been mercifully short. But crossing through it was easier said then done, especially with the poor woman's hopeless penchant for nearly always bumping into people.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry, um may I...? I'm sorry. Please excuse me," She repeated almost endlessly as she tried to squeeze through passenger after passenger. Perhaps all of them jumping for the chance to dine at once and thus crowding the cart full wasn't a good idea... unless that is you were one of the few to have gotten here straight away and secured yourself a seat. Otherwise you'd find yourself having to take away your food to your proper seat (bless you if that meant Carriage No.15) and wait some time to be served too. Milia really had chosen wisely.

So it was then that with Milia's personal mission to reach her reserved seat in Carriage No.6 that she didn't pay any special attention to the other passengers she passed by on her way through the Dining Cart. She simply couldn't. Sure enough she had heard Rehna speak out loudly - after all it was impossible not to, but even so Milia hadn't seen her. The others in the room Milia likely passed a cursory look over, but nothing more. Not the quiet man in purple robes eating a sandwich, or the charming lady sitting across from him who worked with her needles. She likewise paid no special attention to the alluring woman with azure blue robes seated at a booth and marking a map or the beautiful noble woman scribbling out a letter addressed to family. No, her goal for now was to simply reach her seat. Nothing more, nothing less.

But as said before, that was a goal easier said then done.

"Yah!" Milia shrieked as she accidently walked headfirst into the back of someone and stumbled backwards, only narrowly saving herself from falling over completely. Rubbing a sore head, Milia gingerly opened one eye, and then the other, to see a man with dark red auburn hair looking back towards her, a hint of alarm on his face.

IXFdb4D.png


"Oh, ma'am, I'm terribly sorry about that," Spoke out a flustered Flynn, one hand scratching the back of his head, his other hand stretched out towards her to help, with a newspaper tucked under his arm. "I hope I didn't do you any harm. This place is... well, it's just a mite bit cramped right now, isn't it? Makes movin' about quite the pickle. I only came to get a paper too, ha." The man chuckled.

"Ah... um... yes! Yes it is! I was only trying to pass through too!" Milia replied quickly and with a fluster. Her eyes shifted left and right, the poor woman finding it difficult to properly look at the handsome man directly on top of her embarassment in colliding with him. "I, um... I boarded on the wrong side. My seat's in Carriage 6."

"Ha! You don't say!" Laughed back Flynn. "Did the same. Got on Number 3 when my seat's in 13. Ain't that just something? Although the people there didn't find it so funny." The man shot out a grin. "Anyway, I won't take up much more of your time, miss, 'specially when this cart be full enough already. Liable to cause 'nother accident. It's my sincere hope you have a ride, and maybe we'll see each other again later on when this ride's not so busy. Maybe for lunch? My treat."

"Um, er, ah, um! I'll... um... consider it! Thank you!" Still flustered, Milia bowed quickly and then sidled past Flynn to continue on towards Carriage 7, leaving the man behind in the center of the dining cart to laugh to himself.


Arabrasia: Kabalic City: The Flying Courage: Carriage No.18: Time - 10:00

"Are you sure this'll be alright, sir?"

"Yeah, this should be perfect."

6GDwBzB.png


Stepping into the Flying Courage's eighteenth carriage were five men, four of them workers employed by the train's service to handle the onloading and offloading of goods, the fifth... a peculiar enigma. Stepping into the carriage he surveyed the other goods stacked about the carriage, from smaller parcels securely arranged on metal shelves to large pieces of equipment and goods stacked about its edges. It, like the other four carriages located to the rear of the Flying Courage, carried a bevy of goods intended to be delivered to Arabrasia City in Cerenis. These items included a number of commerical goods, magitech equipment and food, however not all of these were so... mundane.

In the midst of all this there was something much, much more special.

"I'm to understand that no one should have access to the goods section from the fifteenth carriage, however..." The enigma started to speak. "I want you guys to make sure that this carriage is locked from both sides and that two of you are to guard the doors at all time. Make sure no one enters here, no matter what."

The workers looked between one another, and nodded. "...as you say, sir. However, I must tell you... this is going to be a long journey. Over eight hours before we reach Cerenis, sir. Are you sure you'll be fine in here the entire time? What about food? Or... you know... other bodily functions?"

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. If I need something I'll just contact you from here. But just remember what I said, alright? Make sure those doors are kept locked at all times."

"Yes sir. It shall be as you say."
 
Last edited:
wVK8Ikw.png


Kabalic City: The Flying Courage - Carriage No.8 (Dining Cart)

Despite Shiloh seeming fairly out of it to most others, he was well aware that people would stare from time to time. Usually due to the poor quality of his outfit if not something weird he didn't know he was doing. Like taking a stand in the middle of a crowded carriage, for example. Still slowly eating away at his bagel-and-goods, he turned a bit to see a group of young boys asking him to move aside so they could get through. In doing that, he caught just a glimpse of someone staring at him.

Shiloh blinked to himself. Was there a problem, was he doing something that made people uncomfortable? What a terrible habit.

He opened his mouth to speak, but flinched from the sudden loud noises coming from Milia. Wow, the folks on this train weren't all that reserved when it came to volume. After taking a couple of steps closer, he tried again to speak with the young lady staring his way earlier, but another rider who seemed to be in quite an awful rush (screaming something about toilets) shoved the poor boy aside. Rather than falling flat on the floor, he caught onto one of the booths and accidentally slid himself into a seat. Directly across Cashmere.

His paper bag (containing a picture book, of all things) fell flat on the table, but at least he didn't drop his sandwich. ...wait, no, the contents had spilled over the table too. But at least the bread was saved? Shiloh's face reddened. "Sorry," he said, repositioning himself into a proper upright seating position. Then he wiped up his mess with what little napkins he had. "I, uh... sorry... sorry..."

Yet even as frantic as Shiloh's hushed tone was, there was a certain grace to his movements, unlike the fidgeting most anxious people would make. He only hoped none of it had caught onto anything belonging to the fashionista...
 
FKb7vJZ.png


The Flying Courage: Carriage 8, 9:50

With the aplomb of a soloist jazz musician, Domino burst from Carriage 8's tiny backroom kitchen, juggling a ridiculous amount of glasses and mugs with an enormous smile on his face and a rather dangerous spring to his step – he was over the moon, because he wasn't doing dishes.

He should have known, really; it's not as if there's much running water in a moving train. But it still came as a surprise – a temporary assistant cook wasn't just an errand boy, after all! He was out with the customers, serving drinks! This was his most important job he'd ever landed! The mighty Mr. Green's talents were already being recognized!

One of the dining car attendants elbowed him sharply in the ribs on her way back toward the kitchen. She was glaring at the teetering piles of glasses in Domino's arms; her face could have peeled wood.

Domino winced (his jacket muttered angrily) and deflated a little, his towers of glasses accustoming a slightly less precarious position. Trying to look as stately as possible, he began making the rounds through the aisle, handing the passengers their drinks. "Here you are sir! Here you go! No need to thank me, ahah, just doing my job! A coffee for you, ma'am! Uh, is that coffee? No, that's tea, oops – just, uh, foolin' around with you, hah! HERE'S your coffee!"

He slid a large coffee across the tabletop toward Rehna, and then looked around for the other passenger. He'd been told a tall man in a cloak... ah!

"Your coffee, sir!" he shouted, spinning across the aisle and nearly tripping a passing traveler, who gave him a glare through her spectacles. "No need to thank me – ohh, Gods –"

The coffee, evidently fed up with the manhandling, had promptly slopped a large amount of brown liquid over Shiloh's open sandwich, which still lay on the table, cradled by the napkins he'd used to clean it up. Domino stared down at the mess, face coloring slightly. "Er – that's, uh, that's my bad, hahah! Just – I'll get that mopped up for you, shall I –?"

With a fervor borne of desperation, he attempted to use the already-soiled napkins to clean the mess. This worked as predictably bad as one might expect. His jacket wriggled at him in a judgmental sort of way.
 
Status
Not open for further replies.