Her Run
Her Questions
Her Eyes
OOC: Emilia is officially retired as a character.
@Sozzer @miner1011012 @Masterman120
"I shouldn't be out this late," She muttered, her armor clanking down the pathway to the slums. She was an old guardsman, at the end of a long shift. You could see the misery in her eyes, her exhaustion haunting her every movement towards Regalia's home to her enemies. She settled her weary bones at the gate, relieving someone of their position. She couldn't end her work tonight, not yet. It was all she had at this point. "Pfft," She tsked at herself. Her thoughts were roaming again. The guardswoman turned her eyes over to the slums side, scanning for anything to report. She knew better than to act inside there. Criminals had a taste for killing and beheading guardsman and were well equipped to do it, too.
Seeing nothing other than someone trying to sell slightly bruised fruit, it was going to be an uneventful night. She cursed at her luck for a lack of a situation. She did want to leave the guard with a purpose, with a…
Bang!
Her eyes darted to the sound, immediately shuffling back.
"Shut tha' gate!" She yelled, raising up her shield. But nothing was coming.
Mumbling in Lusitsian, she reeled back to her original position. She was losing it. The place where the sound came from was far, far away.
The gate above her head creaked. Nobody had moved it down from her shout, so instead it moved with the breeze.
Slum folk also took the noise as a signal to run to their shacks, and it was quiet. The bruised fruit salesman was down on his luck, and went home, and the dreary sack of bones that was she was lonely. She tilted her head slightly back, reminiscing of the last few times she was in this post. One of those times was tense; She had to oversee that a captive was exchanged for ransom. She shuddered at the thought of the Devout Few. Good thing I'm not a noble, si?
A sudden cry pierced the silence. She snapped out of her daze to the cry of a child. Upon her first look, the child was bent over something.
"It's- It's broken," The small child wept.
She abandoned all warnings at that. She took a step out, and then another.
One step. She checked for any other people.
Another step. The gatehouse was empty, or they fell asleep.
One more. She bent down to see what was wrong.
The wooden toy was crushed. Its painted face, or what was left of it, was smeared with dirt and was splintered. It was a sad sight; The child seemed attached to it. It was likely the only toy they ever had, they probably made it themselves.
"This- Ah'll buy you a new one." She spoke, reaching to her top chest plate and patting it.
The child began to sniffle, though it's an improvement from bawling, and softly responded.
"It's not the same…"
With that, the vigilant protector tapped the shoulder of the child.
"What will make you feel better?" She asked, already discarding her shield. "How about a piggy back ride?"
And that is how she ended up on all fours, giving a small child a ride home like some large dog. It was a rather adorable sight, really.
After all was said and done, and the child disembarked, she whistled on her way back.
Where am I, exactly?
It was dark. There was barely any light aside from the beams poking out from boarded up windows.
We turned here, I'm sure of it…
That was when it all went horribly wrong. She should have stayed put, not ventured out so far. Word had spread quickly about a guardsman in the slums, and now she had to find her way out quicker.
Turn after turn after turn- Canal! She veered back, cutting another close call with a rotten smelling canal. These nights were too cool. A dip in those could kill her, and that's just with the smell.
Her shoulder was grabbed roughly, and her body teetered off balance. At risk of falling, she steadied her feet first instead of risking it. That was her mistake. A hathel was put to her neck. It was fancifully decorated, and she took a look at the fine detailing on it. It was someone's pride.
"Name?"
The voice was condescending and demanding, and it left the Ailor uneasy. From what she could tell, it was a Shendar holding her at the hathel's edge. A female one at that. They were certainly taller, towering over her own self.
"Lemme go," She muttered, her insides twisting.
"Your name, not a pitiful cry for help," The Shendar responded, digging the blade ever closer for the Lusitsian's neck.
With a shaky breath, she replied. "Emilia. Emilia Reyes."
"Well, I have work to do," The Shendar said, nudging her off. "Make any sound, any cry for help, and a finger will be removed."
Afraid for her life, Emilia Reyes went along quietly.
Seeing nothing other than someone trying to sell slightly bruised fruit, it was going to be an uneventful night. She cursed at her luck for a lack of a situation. She did want to leave the guard with a purpose, with a…
Bang!
Her eyes darted to the sound, immediately shuffling back.
"Shut tha' gate!" She yelled, raising up her shield. But nothing was coming.
Mumbling in Lusitsian, she reeled back to her original position. She was losing it. The place where the sound came from was far, far away.
The gate above her head creaked. Nobody had moved it down from her shout, so instead it moved with the breeze.
Slum folk also took the noise as a signal to run to their shacks, and it was quiet. The bruised fruit salesman was down on his luck, and went home, and the dreary sack of bones that was she was lonely. She tilted her head slightly back, reminiscing of the last few times she was in this post. One of those times was tense; She had to oversee that a captive was exchanged for ransom. She shuddered at the thought of the Devout Few. Good thing I'm not a noble, si?
A sudden cry pierced the silence. She snapped out of her daze to the cry of a child. Upon her first look, the child was bent over something.
"It's- It's broken," The small child wept.
She abandoned all warnings at that. She took a step out, and then another.
One step. She checked for any other people.
Another step. The gatehouse was empty, or they fell asleep.
One more. She bent down to see what was wrong.
The wooden toy was crushed. Its painted face, or what was left of it, was smeared with dirt and was splintered. It was a sad sight; The child seemed attached to it. It was likely the only toy they ever had, they probably made it themselves.
"This- Ah'll buy you a new one." She spoke, reaching to her top chest plate and patting it.
The child began to sniffle, though it's an improvement from bawling, and softly responded.
"It's not the same…"
With that, the vigilant protector tapped the shoulder of the child.
"What will make you feel better?" She asked, already discarding her shield. "How about a piggy back ride?"
And that is how she ended up on all fours, giving a small child a ride home like some large dog. It was a rather adorable sight, really.
After all was said and done, and the child disembarked, she whistled on her way back.
Where am I, exactly?
It was dark. There was barely any light aside from the beams poking out from boarded up windows.
We turned here, I'm sure of it…
That was when it all went horribly wrong. She should have stayed put, not ventured out so far. Word had spread quickly about a guardsman in the slums, and now she had to find her way out quicker.
Turn after turn after turn- Canal! She veered back, cutting another close call with a rotten smelling canal. These nights were too cool. A dip in those could kill her, and that's just with the smell.
Her shoulder was grabbed roughly, and her body teetered off balance. At risk of falling, she steadied her feet first instead of risking it. That was her mistake. A hathel was put to her neck. It was fancifully decorated, and she took a look at the fine detailing on it. It was someone's pride.
"Name?"
The voice was condescending and demanding, and it left the Ailor uneasy. From what she could tell, it was a Shendar holding her at the hathel's edge. A female one at that. They were certainly taller, towering over her own self.
"Lemme go," She muttered, her insides twisting.
"Your name, not a pitiful cry for help," The Shendar responded, digging the blade ever closer for the Lusitsian's neck.
With a shaky breath, she replied. "Emilia. Emilia Reyes."
"Well, I have work to do," The Shendar said, nudging her off. "Make any sound, any cry for help, and a finger will be removed."
Afraid for her life, Emilia Reyes went along quietly.
Her Questions
A question plagued Emilia's every thought on her march through the slums. How do I get out of this?
She couldn't twist her head around or move her hands, so her eyes flicked to every corner of every building. Shabby homes on their last legs, an oddly familiar cat bathing itself, and a dead candle mouse. She stumbled onward, the dirt crunching beneath her feet. She was tempted to ask questions upon questions, but this Shendar seemed to be all business.
They turned after going up a small hill, and reached a set of stairs that led downward. It was something simple, yet you wouldn't see it at first glance.
The pair moved down, going through a manned gate.
"I should have done this when we first met, but- This will do." The Shendar said, and adjusted her grip on the hathel. Her other hand reached around to choke Emilia's neck, the spindly fingers like a spider.
She raised up her hathel, and cracked its hilt at the top of Emilia's head.
With a heavy grumble, Emilia slumped forward. The Shendar moved her hand immediately, and removed Emilia of any weapons and armor she had. With another fellow's help, they managed to drag Emilia down into the cells. Not content with the cage, they had her chained to the wall.
The wait was short. Emilia shot up and out of her daze, giving a cry of pain. Her head felt like it had been split open. The chains tugged at her wrist, and she screamed from pure fright. This couldn't be happening.
"We have questions that need answers, Reyes." Her voice boomed in the space. Emilia looked through the bars, oh boy were they intricate, and to the Shendar.
She bobbed her head up and down, giving up on the notion of fighting entirely. "Jus'- Whatever y'need," Emilia cried, whisking her hair around to clear it from her face.
"I don't account for your decision, anyway,"
"I know, I know,"
"What is your rank?"
"I'm a guard."
"Your rank is what I asked for."
"We dun have rankings."
"You're just a guard, then?"
"Si,"
The answer didn't seem to satisfy the Shendar. She went on to ask more questions, though, each one more difficult for Emilia to answer.
"What of me? What does the guard think of the Circle?"
"... Well. I dun remember them speakin' 'bout you. Jus' tha' Devout Few, really."
"You will address me as All'oa while you speak to me. Is that clear?"
Emilia nodded once again, the motion already tiring out her poor neck.
"How important are you?"
Emilia didn't quite understand this question at first. It came out of the blue, really.
"I uh. I dun have many people around anymore. M'family and m'old friends blamed me for tha' Inquisition bein' broken down jus' 'cus I joined tha' guard."
The cold hard truth. Emilia had nothing but her job and drinks. This upset her the most.
"Irrelevant? But. You have knowledge on things none of us do. You will tell us what we want about the guard, and you will live beyond a few days."
Emilia didn't even respond. Nobody would come to her rescue. That hit her like a training ball in the stomach.
"Speak, what do you say to me?"
A slight mumble came from Emilia. "Yes, All'oa,"
"Good. This empire will fall in time, sweet Emilia. Take comfort that you are behind those bars under lock and key. They won't ever find you there, you traitor."
With that, All'oa swept off. The future was unclear to Emilia.
A low hum resonated from the other end of the room. It disturbed Emilia when she slept. In time, that would be her downfall.
But for now, she waits.
She couldn't twist her head around or move her hands, so her eyes flicked to every corner of every building. Shabby homes on their last legs, an oddly familiar cat bathing itself, and a dead candle mouse. She stumbled onward, the dirt crunching beneath her feet. She was tempted to ask questions upon questions, but this Shendar seemed to be all business.
They turned after going up a small hill, and reached a set of stairs that led downward. It was something simple, yet you wouldn't see it at first glance.
The pair moved down, going through a manned gate.
"I should have done this when we first met, but- This will do." The Shendar said, and adjusted her grip on the hathel. Her other hand reached around to choke Emilia's neck, the spindly fingers like a spider.
She raised up her hathel, and cracked its hilt at the top of Emilia's head.
With a heavy grumble, Emilia slumped forward. The Shendar moved her hand immediately, and removed Emilia of any weapons and armor she had. With another fellow's help, they managed to drag Emilia down into the cells. Not content with the cage, they had her chained to the wall.
The wait was short. Emilia shot up and out of her daze, giving a cry of pain. Her head felt like it had been split open. The chains tugged at her wrist, and she screamed from pure fright. This couldn't be happening.
"We have questions that need answers, Reyes." Her voice boomed in the space. Emilia looked through the bars, oh boy were they intricate, and to the Shendar.
She bobbed her head up and down, giving up on the notion of fighting entirely. "Jus'- Whatever y'need," Emilia cried, whisking her hair around to clear it from her face.
"I don't account for your decision, anyway,"
"I know, I know,"
"What is your rank?"
"I'm a guard."
"Your rank is what I asked for."
"We dun have rankings."
"You're just a guard, then?"
"Si,"
The answer didn't seem to satisfy the Shendar. She went on to ask more questions, though, each one more difficult for Emilia to answer.
"What of me? What does the guard think of the Circle?"
"... Well. I dun remember them speakin' 'bout you. Jus' tha' Devout Few, really."
"You will address me as All'oa while you speak to me. Is that clear?"
Emilia nodded once again, the motion already tiring out her poor neck.
"How important are you?"
Emilia didn't quite understand this question at first. It came out of the blue, really.
"I uh. I dun have many people around anymore. M'family and m'old friends blamed me for tha' Inquisition bein' broken down jus' 'cus I joined tha' guard."
The cold hard truth. Emilia had nothing but her job and drinks. This upset her the most.
"Irrelevant? But. You have knowledge on things none of us do. You will tell us what we want about the guard, and you will live beyond a few days."
Emilia didn't even respond. Nobody would come to her rescue. That hit her like a training ball in the stomach.
"Speak, what do you say to me?"
A slight mumble came from Emilia. "Yes, All'oa,"
"Good. This empire will fall in time, sweet Emilia. Take comfort that you are behind those bars under lock and key. They won't ever find you there, you traitor."
With that, All'oa swept off. The future was unclear to Emilia.
A low hum resonated from the other end of the room. It disturbed Emilia when she slept. In time, that would be her downfall.
But for now, she waits.
Her Eyes
Emilia has no chains. Not in the cell. After being cooperative, Emilia has nestled in quite cozily. For every good thing she does, she's rewarded. Better tasting food, a small walk outside the cell, sometimes sitting on the couch and talking with All'oa. Small things make her longtime down here worth it. When she's able to tell All'oa something, Emilia jumps on the chance to impress her.
But the hum. The hum was there still. It reverberated through Emilia at every hour, weakening her mind. This reminded Emilia of the consequences of withholding information from All'oa.
Days after being imprisoned, All'oa asked what slum tunnels the guards knew about. Emilia hadn't gotten much sleep since the start of her stay in casa de All'oa, and replied with a snappy I dunno.
As a show of force, Emilia's head was dunked into a bucket of slimy slum water repeatedly, which left her gasping for air. It wasn't an experience she wanted to relive, and from then on she has done everything she can to help All'oa.
That is until the day where she asked a question she couldn't answer.
"Emilia! Darling, do you know where they keep the criminals who have committed terrorism and such?" All'oa asked, already opening the cell to let Emilia out preliminarily.
She hummed in thought. "Now that y'mention it, I didn't ever arrest a person like that." She shook her head. Think, think! She moved out, placing herself on the couch.
"Eh, should be at tha' very bottom. Solitary. Nasty word," She muttered the last part to herself, scratching at her hair.
"Good, good. Where is the weakest point in the prison itself?"
Emilia paused. That was something she couldn't answer.
"I don't know."
You could practically hear All'oa creak. Her spindly self moved towards the perched Emilia, putting her hands on both of her shoulders.
"You do know. Tell me, Emilia."
"I would, but," Emilia's eyes flicked over to a spider crawling up the wall beside her. She looked to be avoiding the question.
Suddenly, All'oa grabbed Emilia by the hair. With a cry, she was yanked over towards the death altar, and All'oa slammed her head onto the bloody mess.
"Tell me, Emilia. Now. You know not to test my patience."
Her damaged mind whirred. The Tower was secured at all places. There was no breaking anyone out without an inside man. Emilia's face fumbled, and she began to speak.
"Th'ma-"
She was cut off by a sharp pain in her shoulder. Something wet welled up, and Emilia felt it spread down along her back. It was the trickle of blood. Her entire body shuddered and broke down into a bubbling mess.
"Th'- Th'man-," Emilia cried over and over.
All'oa recouped herself. She carried the dagger off to the side and set it down gently, leaning down to lift Emilia up by the chest.
She whispered apologies into Emilia's ears, sweet sweet apologies. And in all of Emilia's ugly mess, she found a way to make it all better.
Hush, Emilia. Everything is alright now. Calm down. Relax.
The words carried over to a definitely shaken Emilia, who quieted soon after. A stabbing pain in her shoulder reminded her of the moment, though. It prodded at her, making her fidget and hiss in pain.
"Your eyes are beautiful, Emilia. Don't ruin them with tears,"
With that, a kiss was stolen from Emilia. A sweet embrace held her in All'oa's arms, allowing for such intimacy. A trip to the couch, and Emilia slept there. This was her new idea of freedom.
After all, how could her life become any worse?
But the hum. The hum was there still. It reverberated through Emilia at every hour, weakening her mind. This reminded Emilia of the consequences of withholding information from All'oa.
Days after being imprisoned, All'oa asked what slum tunnels the guards knew about. Emilia hadn't gotten much sleep since the start of her stay in casa de All'oa, and replied with a snappy I dunno.
As a show of force, Emilia's head was dunked into a bucket of slimy slum water repeatedly, which left her gasping for air. It wasn't an experience she wanted to relive, and from then on she has done everything she can to help All'oa.
That is until the day where she asked a question she couldn't answer.
"Emilia! Darling, do you know where they keep the criminals who have committed terrorism and such?" All'oa asked, already opening the cell to let Emilia out preliminarily.
She hummed in thought. "Now that y'mention it, I didn't ever arrest a person like that." She shook her head. Think, think! She moved out, placing herself on the couch.
"Eh, should be at tha' very bottom. Solitary. Nasty word," She muttered the last part to herself, scratching at her hair.
"Good, good. Where is the weakest point in the prison itself?"
Emilia paused. That was something she couldn't answer.
"I don't know."
You could practically hear All'oa creak. Her spindly self moved towards the perched Emilia, putting her hands on both of her shoulders.
"You do know. Tell me, Emilia."
"I would, but," Emilia's eyes flicked over to a spider crawling up the wall beside her. She looked to be avoiding the question.
Suddenly, All'oa grabbed Emilia by the hair. With a cry, she was yanked over towards the death altar, and All'oa slammed her head onto the bloody mess.
"Tell me, Emilia. Now. You know not to test my patience."
Her damaged mind whirred. The Tower was secured at all places. There was no breaking anyone out without an inside man. Emilia's face fumbled, and she began to speak.
"Th'ma-"
She was cut off by a sharp pain in her shoulder. Something wet welled up, and Emilia felt it spread down along her back. It was the trickle of blood. Her entire body shuddered and broke down into a bubbling mess.
"Th'- Th'man-," Emilia cried over and over.
All'oa recouped herself. She carried the dagger off to the side and set it down gently, leaning down to lift Emilia up by the chest.
She whispered apologies into Emilia's ears, sweet sweet apologies. And in all of Emilia's ugly mess, she found a way to make it all better.
Hush, Emilia. Everything is alright now. Calm down. Relax.
The words carried over to a definitely shaken Emilia, who quieted soon after. A stabbing pain in her shoulder reminded her of the moment, though. It prodded at her, making her fidget and hiss in pain.
"Your eyes are beautiful, Emilia. Don't ruin them with tears,"
With that, a kiss was stolen from Emilia. A sweet embrace held her in All'oa's arms, allowing for such intimacy. A trip to the couch, and Emilia slept there. This was her new idea of freedom.
After all, how could her life become any worse?
OOC: Emilia is officially retired as a character.
@Sozzer @miner1011012 @Masterman120
