The Last Rose of May. (Closed, Started)

[Tiger Sora]

Spoiler

Link to original thread, ease of finding who others are and referencing information.

http://www.escapistmagazine.com/for...magic-Good-vs-Evil-RP-Interest-Sign-Up?page=1

Shadows and mist swirl over a pool of foul green liquid. A beautiful demon presides over the pool. Kith, the daughter of Khazhanbraagh. Raising her hands she calms the mists, they soon begin to flow together to create a view of another room with a horrid looking man in heavy plate armor. This man is known as The Betrayer, his name banished for all time to come by the gods above as punishment for his complete turn to chaos. "My servant, come to the mirror your master calls you".

The Betrayer did not hesitate to enter full view. "Yes my mistress"?

"All the pieces are nearly assembled. Ready your forces to press the lines. Their neck will be broken before they even realize". Kith let fly a wicked laugh, one of pure malice.

"Yes my mistress".

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"Thats the last of it". Calia set the final piece of a report onto a pile about a quarter foot thick. The greatest downside to being a general was the paperwork, well the kind you couldn't push off on your subordinates. She flexed her wrist. "Tilleth"! A small, nerdy looking man with a curling mustache entered the room.

"Uhh yes general"?

"This paperwork is done, run it over to the palace administry. I am also going for a walk, if anyone needs me, you know what to say". She couldn't wait to get outside to the fresh air. Much preferring being out in the field bringing the fight to the enemy, but rotation occurs in field command every 6 months so she was stuck in the capital for the most part. Sheathing her sword in the oversized belt, she departed to walk the city streets alone.

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The six days of gods. A traditional festival celebrating what the gods above have gifted man with. Many feel it a pious time and refrain from drinking, reveling and other such acts. Daily they go to church while spending the rest of their day working, disciplining or bettering themselves. Many more seek to revel and have fun. A festival is supposed to be. In all the squares around the capital their was celebrations, so most everyone was getting in on the good fun. Others had different plans.

 

[Viking Incognito]

Rez and his crew were spread out among the festival grounds, enjoying the festivities.

The Firebolt had docked in the Hyperion capital yesterday morning and the Scortchers had just finished getting their land-legs back. "Duke" Rez Tereth, the infamous royal runaway was traveling the streets of his childhood home for the first time in years. He was looking for something he could give as a gift to the whole crew when he caught a glance of a store advertising "Tereth Smith metal work".

A thought popped into his head that brought a sly grin to his face. He entered the store with a sirious look on his face.

"What's all this! You've laid out the merchandise all wrong!" He complained to the portly man that was obviously the manager.

"And just who do you think you are?" the manager replied.

"I'm Rez Tereth, which means this store belongs in part to me!" He put on the pompous impatient look he had seen on his older sister's face so many times when he was young.

"Sir you are either drunk or a terrible con artist. Everyone knows Rez Tereth is off in the sky somewhere with his band of degenerates afraid to come back and face his family. The very idea that you...I'm going to have to ask you to leave.

Rez held a straight face for a few moments before bellowing a deep laugh and exiting the shop, stil chuckling heartily.

So, no one even remembers what I look like anymore. This ought to be fun.

 

[wilcoblackflame]

The 6 days of Gods. Under normal circumstances, Major Olivia LeMuire would be enjoying it. For a few short days, all she need worry about would be quiet contemplation and attending church. Simple, quiet, peaceful.

But not today. Today the festival had an edge to it, one that soured her palate for the entire affair. The war was getting closer, the terrorist attacks continued and all the while there was little for her to do but keep vigil, ready to heed orders from further up the chain of command.

In earlier days, before the war had started to sweep toward Hipereon, she had taken a leave of absence from the military, taking work as a consultant in regards to airship construction. But as the war spread she had returned to the military, shortly before the bombings had begun. It was only a matter of time now, she was sure, before the hipereon military entered the fray in force.

She sighed. Surely there were better things to think about than this. Especially immediately after church. Walking from the cathedral onto the streets, she purchased a newspaper and sat on a bench, attempting to find some news, however rare, that didn't revolve around the war.

 

[Arrogancy]

The Airship's Wings was busy, most inns were around the time of the festivals. It was a large inn excellently situated near the city's air docks, and, therefore, got the first pick of most travelers to the city. Business had been good recently, so good that few people noticed the young man in the dark gray coat and bowler in the corner.

Zavier Martres had spent the last few hours in that same seat, doing little aside from reading a slim, leather-bound book he carried with him. In front of him was a small pot of tea he had ordered, though drank little from. He checked his silver pocket watch, more out of boredom than any other reason. He had left Uleth several days ago, and arrived in the Hipereon capital just the other day. It seemed that someone in the city had need of his services.

The meeting had been scheduled for the next day, but Zavier believed in punctuality in his line of work. He also believed in checking out potential ambushes, betrayals, and any other such underhanded behavior that might result in his inconvenience. So far, he hadn't found anything to suggest that his meeting would be an attempt against him, that didn't mean it still wasn't, but it boded well that things might just work out without much trouble.

Zavier finally got up from his table and decided to see the city proper. He might even go to church.

 

[SkullKing84]

Ivan's head pounded as he awoke from a drunken stupor. It was dark, smelled like spiced rum and was quite a tight space. Tighter then a coffin, and with some random long wooden sticks all around him. Feeling a bit dizzy he went to moved his feet, but they weren't on the ground. In fact when he shifted his weight, he ended up kicking the door in front of him open a crack.

He saw people sitting in pews, but they were upside down on the the ceiling... His feet came crashing down back onto this ceiling. Rum bottles and brooms went everywhere. Ivan stood; everything in the church stopped and stared at him.

"Well that ain't the bathroom."

He briskly walked out of the building wondering where in the blazes is he?

 

[Athol]

Like most of the inns, the 'Falling Man' was a busy place. Favourited by those who wished for a good time and a low profile, it?d become Marc?s preferred place ever since he'd hit the capitol of Hipereon after he?d joined the 'Firebolt'. Currently he was sitting in a corner of the nosey and crowded main room with two girls. One was on his lap, her face against the left side of his neck moaning softly, this because his left hand was busy up her skirt; while he and the other girl where kissing madly, his right hand down the front of her blouse.

"It's not fair..." The second girl teased, pulling back from Marc. "Sammy's gettin' off an' all I get is a grope an' a kiss." Extracting his right hand, Marc grabbed his nearby ale, and took a pull. "Don't you worry none Cynthia, Sammy's about to pop, after that you can come sit on my lap." He replied, grinning broadly. "Now where were we?" His free hand burrowing back under Cynthia's blouse, much to her delight.

 

[The Ubermensch]

In the distance the you could hear the revelry, but it was muted in the small sidewalk. Kalley's boots clicked against the cobblestone path as she looked at the stalls with a soft nostalgic smile. A few children ran up and down the street whilst several lovers wandered meandered their way through the light crowd, and a few people had lined up to buy some festival food or some small contextual trinket. The warm, delicious smells of several fried foods invaded her senses. She happily surrendered and approached a stall and purchased some kind of bread covered sausage.

Kalley enjoyed the main festival, but these little side streets reminded of her of home. Her parents homestead was large enough to warrant a festival, soldiers would come down from the local outpost and purchase some food. In later years the soldiers would actually come down and help, giving Kalley some supplies to make some fireworks.

She wondered if she should scold herself for enjoying this, she who had actively decided to rebel against the gods who was enjoying a festival in their honour. A thought which she shrugged off; She was fine with being a hypocrite if it meant she got to eat festival food.

She walked out of the alley and saw a smithing store, 'Tereth Smith Metal Work'. The Duke's shop? I've got to have a look at this she thought inwardly as she approached the shop . She stopped herself after she heard the voice of Rez and watched, folding her arms with an amused smile as the scene unfolded.

"Want to go back to your holdings aye Duke? Had enough of playing pirate?" she said with a sardonic smile as he exited the store

 

[Fishtie]

Evangeline used to love the festival surrounding the six days of Gods. It had been nearly a full week of days with most of her chores excused; when the streets filled with games, dancing, and food the likes of which a street urchin would never see otherwise. It had used to be heaven in a hard life. Now...

In a single practiced motion Evangeline tossed the shot into her mouth and swallowed. The clear liquid burned all the way down though Evangeline barely winced. Evangeline tapped the glass back down and motioned for the man across from her to fill it again.

"Do you even know how many that's been now?" The bartender asked.

"Nope, but I know you're keeping a tab so I could ask you if I cared to. Just fill it again." She replied.

Evangeline was positive that none of the scorchers knew about this bolt hole of hers, she had always been very careful to make sure she wasn't followed when they rarely made port in the capitol. Besides, this wasn't anything like where you'd find a pirate; the bar was dark, quiet, and warm; a serious place full of serious people who only had a serious intention to get drunk. It was one of the only places Evangeline felt she could really be like this; flushed cheeks, lulling gaze, slumped posture; not at all her normal steely unphasable self. Then again, there was another reason why she came to this specific bar.

"So how's Randel doing?" Evangeline asked while her glass was refilled. "Did things ever work out with tha' girl... what was her name? Kara? Kate?"

"Katrina." The bartender corrected. "Actually they're currently in a state of marital bliss. Even got a little one on the way, things are really looking up for them these days."

"Ooh." Evangeline cooed with a smile. "Is he still got that foreman position?" She received a quick nod from the bartender, "Then good for him. Way better then there then the mill."

The pair fell silent for a few glum moments, they both knew the toll that working in the giant iron mills could take on a person. Evangeline took the opportunity to toss back another shot.

"You know," The bartender started, "you could go see them. Wish them..."

"Nope." Evangeline shook her head with a scowl. "This ain't my world anymore. For me there's no going back." Another few moments passed in silence. "Well, I bet Mom is happy at least." Evangeline suddenly said, her voice dead and bitter.

"Sometimes I think you judge her too much." The bartender said almost nonchalantly.

"She threw me out."

"In her defense you just proclaimed one day that you were going to run away to be a sky pirate."

"No. You were there Sev, she literally threw me out of the house." Evangeline responded curtly, emphasizing with a small tossing motion of her hands.

"She wasn't that bad. She really wasn't" He pleaded.

"She could have tried a bit harder at being good then." Evangeline was unmoved.

Another period of silence opened up between the two, but this time something was different. This wasn't just a pause in thinking of what to say next, it was an attempt to delay whatever was coming. Finally the bartender broke the silence.

"Mom's dead."

Suddenly the alcohol wasn't strong enough. Evangeline quickly tossed back another shot but it just didn't seem to have the impact that the previous ones did.

Silence.

"Eva?"

Silence.

"Sis?"

"Poor me another drink Sev."

 

[Terratina.]

Ahhhhh... The Six Days of the Gods.

Tara was disinterested in the festival, all she cared about was getting back to her homeland of Uleth. As long as she was under the thumb of the Republic, it might as be the blackest day ever. She followed the Scorchers around, near the leader, the so-called 'Duke', leaning againist the wall near the entrance of the shop he had entered. After seeing him exit and another one of the Sky Pirates appear with a sardonic remark, Tara just gave out another "hmphff" and waited for the Firebolt and its crew to take to the air again. She decided to do as she did while on the airship, stay quiet with no words but a very prominent scowl. They might take her for one of the pious types that refrained from revelry on this day. True, the Gods had given them much gifts, but always gave out storms and war. The way Tara saw it was that she may have been given magic by the Gods, but unlike the mages of Light and Dark, she didn't need worship to fuel her powers, they may have decided her elemental alignment but she could decide whether to worship them or not.

She folded her arms and lent against the cold stone wall again with a fierce patience, waiting for these Sky Pirates to move on.

 

[Dogmatic99]

The square was abuzz with activity. Even inside the little corner shop Zeke had found himself in the noise of the festival bled through the walls and windows, filling the shop with a steady drone, the kind that only huge crowds can make. The girl behind the counter looked a mixture of bored and resentful. No doubt she would rather be out enjoying the festivities instead of watching Zeke wrestle with indecision.

I shouldn't. I've been good for two weeks.He thought to himself, eyeing up the jars of tobacco just behind the shop assistant's head. The even had "Royal cut", an expensive brand but worth every penny.But I told Evangeline I'd quit. He clenched his fist and his knuckles tightened. He coulden't deny that the last two weeks were beginning to fray him around the edges. I told her I'd try and I did.

"I'll have three ounces of Royal cut please." And with that the shop girl sighed and weighed out his order. It was a little under the request but he was fine with that. Along with the tobacco he got the supplies to role his own cigarettes and a few chocolate bars. enough to share with the crew members he was closer to. He questioned whether Marc would want one and decided to get him one anyway. Who doesn't like chocolate?

Once he was done inside the store he haphazardly rolled himself a cigarette and lit it up, the glint in his eye matching the spark of the match. He sucked in the smoke and exhaled it in one, long, luxurious breath. "God's yes." He said out loud. He justified it to himself pretty easily. How often did he get a chance to have a smoke while The Scorchers were in the air? Not often. And he only got a small amount, it wasn't like it would last him long. He would cut back on the smoking, wean himself off it before he quit. Then with some difficulty he made his way through the crowd in search of the others, cigarette tightly gripped between his lips. Hopefully he would run into Kalley.

 

[TheBlueShotgun0]

Marcus weaved through the bustling crowd of the city, a glass mug of beer in his hand. The streets around him were alive with glowing lanterns, shouting merchants, and a thousand people of varying nationality. If Marcus hadn't already spent a week in the grand city, he would likely have suffered from culture shock. The activity and cheer of the festival was such a contrast to the stillness and somber mood of the front, the only word to describe it was jarring. Marcus was glad that there was still a place in the world for such festivities.

Finding a bench to sit on, Marcus sipped on his drink and leaned back to relax. Well, relax as much as he could. He hated to admit it, but he couldn't stand being away from the front. If the choice had been his, he would still be there. His mind flashed back to a time that felt very long ago. One week ago, he had been laying in his cot when his Sargent had come up to him. The Sargent had offered Marcus 3 weeks of leave. He declined, but the Sargent demanded that Marcus take it. He said no, and the demand changed to an order. When asked why he wanted Marcus to go, the Sargent said "War is no place for a young man. Better you live your life before the Republic takes it."

But Marcus didn't want to live his life. Sure, he would prefer getting into a trade, maybe metalworking, but the Empire of Thund-Akreig and her allies needed him far more than he needed a break. Sitting there on that bench, Marcus felt helpless and useless.

Marcus smiled, amused by his own train of thought. We are indeed creatures of habit. he though. Even when that habit involves putting yourself at risk doing a job you hate. Marcus knew his company would get along just fine for a few weeks, even without the greatest sniper on the continent. With this though whisking away his worries, Marcus allowed himself to relax his body and enjoy the band that had started playing.

 

[Possum TheGreat]

Tostundir enjoyed church services. He'd never really known why - perhaps because it was expected of him, given his class. Yet, he'd never liked the Gods. He just enjoyed to calmly sit in a corner and listen. Sure, the pews could be hideously uncomfortable to sit in at times, but there was an atmosphere created by the thousands of people that passed through there that simply couldn't be emulated in any way. As for the gods, well... He repected them immensely. They knew what they were doing - the steam men were evidence of that. Or, perhaps they didn't - he supposed that humans were evidence of that. Regardless, as the sermon finished he quietly left and left a coin for the collection.

Putting his hat on, he started walking to a very particular bar. While he was rarely drunk, he liked the place because it seemed to be solely dedicated to people silently incapacitating themselves, which meant that they rarely bothered him while he sketched down notes for inventions. It was also very secluded, so the chances of some irritating zealot charging in and interrupting his contemplations while accusing all the patrons of being heretics for drinking alcohol on these "sacred" days (as they sometimes did on this festival) were very small.

Sadly, as he entered, he realised he would have to wait a respectful amount of time to get his drink. He immediately detected the tense atmosphere, especially in the tone of the folorn woman at the bar, who said, "pour me another drink, Sev" with astounding solemnity. Realising the gravity of the situation for thoes involved, he stealthily removed his hat again and flowed into his favourite booth beside the door without checking for occupants, to his great dismay, as, after a few seconds of sitting there he noticed a very drunk and very aggressive-looking man staring at him with impressive passion. Tostundir was so happy that he'd managed to slip in without disrupting the conversation at the bar. He'd been looking forward to finding out what it was about. But even as he thought this, he could see the man beside him beginning to boil over in his peripheral vision, and in a very creative stream of abuse he was evicted from the booth, deciding to flee the building for fear of embarrassment. Casting a cursory glance behind him as he once more replaced his hat, his eyes met those of the woman at the bar (who had turned to see what the commotion was about), and he saw into her soul for a fraction of a second. Those were the eyes of a troubled woman indeed. She had seen a lot of blood spilt.

And then he turned and strode away.

 

[Viking Incognito]

"Want to go back to your holdings aye Duke? Had enough of playing pirate?"

Rez laughed and said, " Haven't you heard? Pirating is out of style!"

He gave her his trademark winning grin and drew her in close.

"I'm looking for something I can get as a gift to the whole crew. Do you have any suggestions?"

 

[The Ubermensch]

"I'm looking for something I can get as a gift to the whole crew. Do you have any suggestions?"

Kalley made a face as the Duke invaded her personal space.

"I don't know" she started awkwardly "For everyone? I guess something alcohol related"

She pushed off him before looking off thoughtfully as she considered the question.

"A still" she said finally; turning back "We need a distillery; why don't we have a distillery Duke? I mean I can make one but I never have enough copper tubing."

She dove into her pocket and pulled out a small piece of parchment and a pencil. She then proceeded to scribble down a list of things she needed.

"Get me these" Kalley said forcefully; thrusting the list in Rez's face "I could make drink that we could sell."

 

[Viking Incognito]

"I could make drink that we could sell."

Rez shook his head.

"It would take too much up-keep on a ship as busy as the Firebolt. It isn't a bad idea though, maybe we should look into running liquor. By the way, have you seen Eva? I want to talk to her about something."

He had found the old warehouse that they had used as a "hide out" in their childhood. He figured she would enjoy the nostalgic sight.

 

[Arrogancy]

Zavier walked by the docks, inspecting the ships. Most were typical merchant vessels, great barges bringing vast amounts of resources to the cities, keeping the empires alive. Interspersed with these were a significant amount of military ships docking at the capital, awaiting refitting and orders, preparing for their eventual departure to the front to be blown out of the sky. Near the end of the docks were a series of large, gaudy craft belonging the Hipereon elite, the only people who could afford to maintain things like that. Out of the entire array, however, there was only one that caught Zavier's eye.

It was smaller than most of the rest, more sleekly designed too. The engines were larger than one would expect for so small a craft, allowing for great speeds. It was durable too, or so the patched skin implied. It took no great amount of wit, at least not for Zavier, to realize he was looking at an air pirate's ship. Air pirates were not, in and of themselves, particularly rare or interesting, however, most stayed of the radar, far from ports where any kind of strong authority was asserted. Seeing one in the capital of one of the empires, even with the war as it was going, was a rare occurrence indeed. Either its captain was possessed of of extreme audacity or remarkable stupidity. Zavier was betting strongly on the latter. Still, it was worth investigating, at least it would kill some time.

Zavier got close enough to see the name engraved on the ship. The Firebolt.

 

[The Ubermensch]

"By the way, have you seen Eva? I want to talk to her about something."

"Normally if I need her I just yell-" Kalley cupped her hands over shouted."Eva!" She looked around the rooftops and into the crowd; lifting her finger up to Rez implying that they wait.

"Nope" Kalley said finally looking back at Rez "I'd try the bars; I caught Marc wandering in the 'Falling Man', maybe she meet up with him."

 

[Athol]

"OH GODS!!!"

The scream burst from Sammy's mouth as she clung shaking to Marc. "By the gods that was good!" She gasped, not daring to move until her strength returned. "I'll say...Sammy dearest you shook the whole damned bar with that scream." Cynthia replied, sliding a hand across Marc's trousers. "Now love..." She said, addressing the man. "How 'bout instead of just a little finger play, we take this upstairs and you show us what you car really do?"

Marc had been just sitting there, basking in the response he'd gotten from Sammy. At Cynthia's suggestion his face lit with a rather lewd grin. "Why my dear that is positively the best idea I've heard all day." With that he gathered Sammy up in his arms, and the three of them headed for the stairs, laughing.

 

[Fishtie]

Evangeline took note of the small disturbance in the bar, it was rare enough in this quiet place but she was quite surprised to see that it looked like some kind of toff who was one of the party involved. It wasn't often that one of there kind ended up in a place like this. In her moment of morbid curiosity Evangeline accidentally met the man's eyes as he made to scurry out and regretted it immediately. In that solitary second she knew that she had let her guard down, that he had seen way to much; it was clear enough in his judging gaze.

Well what the hell did he know? The posh dandy didn't look like he'd done a decent days work in his entire life. It disgusted Evangeline to even watch him just back down from a few drunken grumblings. Didn't the man have any dignity? Any pride?

Evangeline quickly slid of her seat and took only a moment to steady herself. The world around her wavered a little bit, but it was nothing compared to the an airship hitting a patch of bad weather. With steady strides she quickly stomped her way over to the door in pursuit of the well dressed man.

"Hey!" She called out to him in a rough voice. "Where do you think you're going?"

 

[Terratina.]

The pirates were busy talking among themselves and with that, Tara just faded into the background. Her patience worn thin, she walked out of the little alley back to the airship docks. Surely someone should be guarding the Firebolt? Some curious onlooker could just jump in that ship and no-one would notice. Such a thing would be typical of a Sky Pirate crew headed by a royalist playing at pirate. Now there was a story that often repeated itself. A rich royalist gets bored, buys an airship, not just any civilian airship, one with guns bolted into it and a fast engine for good measure. Bored royalist then runs away on the airship, tired of the constant talk of the legacy they must uphold.

Tara though on as she walked. Apparently with the occupied of Uleth, this occurrence had only increased. But the aristocrats were actually doing something over there, the Returners had plenty of people with the money to fund the resistance movement. Tara wondered want the Six Days of the Gods would be like over there and quickly came to the conclusion that it would be like the festivities here, but with even more of an edge. Still the pious ones would still bow to the Gods in their churches, even if they were under Republican rule.

Tara stopped, she had arrived at the airship docks where the Firebolt was docked in all its crimson glory and already there was a curious onlooker on the scene. Letting her hand rest on her sword, she walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Admiring the view?" Tara asked, in her signature blunt fashion.