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 Post subject: Down by the riverside
PostPosted: Tue Apr 10, 2007 3:06 am 
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The city was just like it had always been. The people were going about their business like they always had. What in the world… how could it all be so regular, so everyday? Her right hand balled into as much of a fist as it could around the haft of her weapon, letting one nail bite into the heel of her palm. A tiny pulse of pain, fleeting as a summer breeze, but enough to remind her yet again that everything – everything – was different.

But why should they know, or care? They didn’t know her, they didn’t know that things were different. They were what she had been scant hours ago, and… and she’d been just as oblivious then. Even when confronted by the reality of people being stuck here, making this game their reality, she had only half-believed. How could she expect them to care or change their routines for her concern?

She wanted to talk to someone, but no one she could think of seemed right. She didn’t want to burden Amber or Duo or Slicer with this. Would they even believe her? Well, Amber would. Her actions would be so predictable. She’d call Liss’ home and find out… what? Had her parents discovered her yet, in whatever state she might be in? Or would the call prompt them to check on her and discover her slumped over and unconscious? Heck of a way to find out, and then they might blame Amber somehow, despite how far away she’d been. Maybe not her parents, but others… her aunt and uncle, she felt sure… and…

This was foolish and getting her nowhere. She couldn’t go to Amber. She just needed to hang around here until she calmed down. She needed to…

Senna?

She looked up to see another Long Arm looking at her, arms crossed.

Cathal. Hi…

Their conversation was brief, mostly at Senna’s anxiety. AS they talked, she was beginning to realize she needed to talk to someone not close, someone she didn’t know well. And as they parted ways, she found she was feeling empty, lost. She headed for the water.

The city had always seemed peaceful to Senna, and even now, the constant busy, impersonal hum of it was nice. No one was targeting her here. She was just part of the crowd, innocent and innocuous. Taking a calming breath, she started walking. In fact, it might be better if she didn’t see anyone she knew. Or someone she only knew in passing. Someone she’d never known well enough to allow herself to break down in front of.

As though the Deus ex machine of The World heard her thoughts, a heavyset Blademaster stepped to the right, clearing a small lane in the crowd, through which she glimpsed a familiar form. She looked a long moment, trying to be sure it was who she thought it was. A fellow Knight of Destiny? She walked up hesitantly, not wanting to be a bother, and inquired using his name.

Silk?

She felt reasonably sure it was the right name. Names had never been a strong point for Senna, but his was unusual, and his class was as well. He didn’t look perhaps exactly like she remembered though, and anyway, it had been a while.

May I help you?

She wasn’t sure what reaction she had expected, but it wasn’t that. He looked at her completely blank of any recognition, and something in her gut went cold. She couldn’t get out, but could there be more? Could that Primal have done something? Have wiped her out of the minds of people who’d known her? The thought made her sick, and for a moment she couldn’t even think what to say next to this person who acted as though they should be complete strangers.

You don’t remember me, Silk?” she asked, careful to keep her voice as neutral as she could. She repeated his name in hopes that maybe she just had it wrong. Maybe he just looked like the person she’d quested with.

There was another pause, then he said something she couldn’t quite make out and got to his feet. When he spoke again, it was clear. “Want some coffee? I hear you can almost taste it.

Another twist at that, and warning bells as well. Could he be… No, she was just being paranoid and overly sensitive. She remembered the metallic taste of blood in her mouth when Primal had thrown her into the forest and she’d bit her tongue a little. Forcing that thought and all the self-pity that came with it away, she focused on the here and now. And now, it was time to figure out why Silk didn’t seem to know who she was. It made a refreshingly non-deadly mystery for the moment, and she was glad indeed of having one of those.

Sounds good,” she said, allowing a ghost of a smile. “Though I hadn’t heard Mac Anu was particularly known for coffee.” She paused, then decided there was one thing she needed to add if his reactions were any indication. “’M Senna. So what’ve you been up to lately?” She hade a sort of “after you” gesture toward Silk, feeling a little grateful now at being forgotten. As it was, she could almost pretend things were normal – or that he was the one acting oddly.

_________________
Senna, level 33 Long Arm (710 HP/180 SP)
Most common kit: Ichigou, Racoon Earcaps, Air Bracer, Snow Panther, Winter Coat, Graceful Book
Spells/Skills: (Critical Hit/Death) Repulse Cage, Ap Corv, Ap Vorv, Rai Rom, Rue Zot, La Repth
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14300 (1/23)


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PostPosted: Tue Apr 10, 2007 5:47 am 
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It wasn’t a long walk to the nearest coffee shop, a small, snug place barely squeezing into a cozy corner at the intersection between 5th Avenue and 6th Street North. A narrow spectrum of players frequented such places: newbloods and ARG (alternate reality game) enthusiasts. The former just didn’t know what to do; the latter wished they had something to do.

An airy little outdoor dining area complete with voluminous umbrellas and various potted plants provided an excellent ambience, and inside tasteful paintings and interesting newspaper articles decorated the walls. The building itself was made from wood polished to a fine shiny finish, while the interior walls had pleasant green, white, and pink wallpaper.

The Longarm and the Fist Fighter decided to take their seats at a table in a corner to the right, because the line at the counter was a little ridiculous. “You’re Senna, huh?” asked Silk with a tone of bemusement edged with anger brought on by fighting futilely against something that could not even be addressed. “I’m not gonna lie to you; I bought this character off of the previous owner. He sold it on E-bay for about $1,000. Even so, I know a little bit about you from the wealth of saved PMs and conversations I’ve got gathering cobwebs in my… uhh… mailbox.”

Typically, Victor was a positively venomous person to be around. Even now, he was acting a touch on the impolite side, but right now he was too busy drowning in his own sorrows to go out of his way to spite someone.

He felt everything: the air blowing through his air, the slight soreness of sitting in one position for too long and the growing desire to shift one leg to rest upon the other. Thirsty, hungry, sleepy – he felt all of it right now, and it served only to bring him deeper and deeper into the hopelessness that individuals feel in only one situation – separation. Separation from home, separation from familiarity, separation from one’s proverbial “turf.” It was all too much for Victor absorb at one time – everything that had once been him was now a consciousness inside of a different being altogether. A different entity with different feelings, connections, and friends – this Senna was one of the latter.

Before Senna could respond to the Fist Fighter’s short confession, he rose to his feet and entered the dwindling line of people before the coffee vendor. “I’ll be back in a second,” he said in passing, although he half-guessed that Senna would join him in the line. After all, why were they here if not to get coffee?

_________________
Level 25 Fist Fighter
Boxing Gloves | Nny Scales | Dice Gloves | Iron Anklet | Time Headband

Skills: Ap Corv, Ap Torv, GiVak Don, Ap Torma, Ap Do, Repth, Kiwami, Double Mortal Scorcher

Wishlist:
1.) Rare Foot Armor
2.) FF Belief
3.) Any stat-altering items


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PostPosted: Tue Apr 10, 2007 2:33 pm 
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For all the time Senna had spent in Mac Anu, she’d never really explored it beyond where she NEEDED to go – save point, item shops, things of that nature – and places she wanted to go which were in plain sight, such as the water’s edge (and in one particularly memorable case, the canal’s bottom.) As such, she was actually surprised to find a coffee shop here, but in retrospect, she decided it was a foolish thing to be surprised by. After all, people came into The World in search of another reality, so it made sense that the trappings of society could all be found in here.

Reality. It was almost enough to make her smile.

She was further surprised to find that this Silk was not the one she had known before. “That explains that,” she murmured to herself as he made his brief explanation. She wasn’t yet sure what to make of Silk the second. He seemed a bit put off, but she assumed that if some more-or-less stranger had come up to her making demands on her time, she would not have been more accommodating. Less, more than likely.

She hadn’t spent enough time around Silk to have a concrete idea of his personality, just vague notions. He’d been creative and fairly fearless, always rushing in first into the fray. It was a trait that had not exactly endeared him to the Wavemistress of the Knights of Destiny from what Senna could remember, but it had seemed to be generally effective.

She thought she might appreciate the new Silk’s… reticence, she guessed, a bit more. People in this place always TALKED so much.

Over her own muttered words, he’d excused himself. She looked up to see him heading for the line. Coffee… how WOULD it taste in here? She got to her feet, hooking her spear into her hand with one foot – she’d left it leaning against the table. “Eh,” she said, the noncommittal sound supposed to convey something like “okay” or “hang on, I’ll come too” or something like that. Articulate, she was not.

There WAS a decent line for the hot drinks, and she assumed if the others could actually smell in this game as she could, they might have good reason. She’d spent time in some nice coffeehouses in her time – her parents didn’t raise no cheap coffee drinker – and this smelled heavenly. Or maybe it was just her mind recreating her impressions of a coffeehouse, complete with high-end coffee blends. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking, now that she couldn’t go out and get a REAL cup of coffee.

She wasn’t completely sure why she stuck around to bother this guy, except that – as she’d realized earlier – she had nowhere else to go at the moment, and grabbing some coffee actually DID sound good. So trying to be polite and hoping she wasn’t overstepping herself, she asked curiously, “What made you decide to step into a high level character instead of building one yourself?” After all, for herself, building the character as she wanted it was the fun part.

HAD been the fun part…

_________________
Senna, level 33 Long Arm (710 HP/180 SP)
Most common kit: Ichigou, Racoon Earcaps, Air Bracer, Snow Panther, Winter Coat, Graceful Book
Spells/Skills: (Critical Hit/Death) Repulse Cage, Ap Corv, Ap Vorv, Rai Rom, Rue Zot, La Repth
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14300 (1/23)


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PostPosted: Wed Apr 11, 2007 8:51 pm 
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“Welcome to Sundollar, how may I help you?” The beaming face of the youngish boy working behind the counter irritated Victor in ways that it shouldn’t, but the Fist Fighter managed to keep a neutral expression on his face.

“Yes, can I get a Triple Chocolate Frappuccino?”

The boy nodded amiably, then asked: “What size would you like?”

“Alpine, please.” Once again, the boy nodded, and then he moved towards one of the many drink-making devices in the back and set to work. Although he wouldn’t admit it to himself, he was actually curious about how his beverage would taste. All the other sensations in The World were similarly lifelike, but would the drink he was about to drink taste differently?


Probably not, Victor reasoned, but it would certainly be a new experience. An experience marred by one unending realization: he was trapped in this game. With every passing moment, he was hit with another wave of shock; he truly hadn’t wrapped his mind around his new situation. A quiver went through his spine even as his stomach lurched heavily in his gut. Suddenly, that Frappuccino didn’t sound so appetizing.

Silk paid for his meal quickly, gathered up his new drink along with a spoon, a straw, and some napkins, and then made his way back to the table they had just vacated without saying a word to the Longarm. Both of them seemed too wrapped up in their own thoughts to really converse, especially if it was going to be empty small talk, which it inevitably would’ve been considering the circumstances.

What came next would change everything. As the Fist Fighter sipped absently on his Frappuccino, he saw the Longarm approach from the counter with a cup of something undoubtedly scalding hot; if the steam rising from the lid didn’t give it away, the big red bold words on the side reading “Caution: HOT!” did.

In later times, when Victor reminisced back to this moment, he remembered thinking that for a warrior of her prowess and ability, she certainly looked clumsy. And indeed she was, as fate – or something less improbable – would have it. Silk watched with growing trepidation as the Longarm struggled to balance her delicious-smelling cinnamon bun, scalding hot coffee, and her long, death-dealing weapon of doom between her two arms while simultaneously walking towards their table.

At first, her expression was one of quiet embarrassment: she knew that she would be able to get to the table in one piece, but it sure was uncomfortable making a big scene about it like she was. Then, her expression was one of uncertainty: could she make it to the table without spilling? It wasn’t exactly guaranteed, and if things kept continuing… Finally, her expression was one of outright, wide-eyed panic as she felt her balance go completely to the right even as she overcompensated for one side’s slipping.

Meanwhile, the Fist Fighter watched with growing disbelief. Every warrior knew that balance was the essential element to fighting, and the instant it was lost, so was the warrior’s life. Yet here was the Longarm tipping over like a Jenga tower with one too many pieces missing, and really, how could this possibly be happening? As things grew irreparably bad, the Fist Fighter looked for an escape route: forward – and thereby directly away from the Longarm – was unacceptable; there was a table blocking the way. Backwards also, wasn’t going to work: that’s where the tripping Longarm was. Making for the right was untenable, too: there was a wall there.

In a spit-second decision, Silk threw his body left even as the coffee from the spilling cup floated through the air in breath-taking HD² Slow Motion™. Silk’s eyes widened in terror. The Longarm’s body converged with his own in a jarring collision.

This won’t end well.

Electric pain surged through Silk’s body, causing him to yelp in a most undignified manner. The now proven-to-be scalding hot water burned on the Fist Fighter’s exposed skin, and his cries were now coupled with Senna’s own vocal distress. The coffee had hit her in a few places as well, causing an unusual but telling reaction, one that Victor wouldn’t realize until the searing discomfort caused by the burning hot liquid left his brain.

Both of them experienced massive pain, and both of them tried desperately to extricate themselves from the uncomfortable position. Their bodies hopelessly entangled, it took several minutes of hiss-filled struggling to escape from each other, until finally they clawed at tables to come to a weak-legged stand. Gasping for air, the Fist Fighter eyed the Longarm who was under similar circumstances.

Even as he watched the Longarm’s pull herself together, something nagged at the back of Victor’s mind, as though this entire incident spoke of a deeper truth. Right now, though, his mind was too far-gone with pain to recognize anything. Wait. Hold it.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “No way…”

_________________
Level 25 Fist Fighter
Boxing Gloves | Nny Scales | Dice Gloves | Iron Anklet | Time Headband

Skills: Ap Corv, Ap Torv, GiVak Don, Ap Torma, Ap Do, Repth, Kiwami, Double Mortal Scorcher

Wishlist:
1.) Rare Foot Armor
2.) FF Belief
3.) Any stat-altering items


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PostPosted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 1:04 am 
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While Senna’s order was not as detailed as Silk’s – she’d never gotten to enjoy the finer points of caffeinated beverages – it at least looked right. And strong. She’d never gotten into the habit of using cream and sugar in her coffee either.

Which was not to say she didn’t have a sweet tooth. Leaving aside the fact that she was here as a sort of awkward guest of someone she thought she knew but turned out not to, she WAS in the shop, and it was offering more than mocha lattes and frappuccinos. As a last-moment decision, she decided to add a cinnamon roll to the order.

Either they would taste good or they wouldn’t right?

As she paid for her food and drink and turned to head back to the table, she realized one major miscalculation she’d made – she really didn’t have enough arms for spear, cup and plate. After a moment’s juggling, she thought she had it set enough to get back to the table, but before she was halfway there, she’d realized the folly of that thought. Especially for her. She could be smooth as a ballerina out on the field, dealing death with her spear, but in the general course of things, her grace was more catastrophic than cat-like. Unfortunately, by the time she had realized for certain that she was not going to make it, her balance was already out ahead of her, and there was no way to regain her balance. Since everyone else in here would only have a superficial reaction to hot liquid but since she could feel the heat coming from the cup and had no intention of spilling it on herself, she was just aiming to get it on as few people as possible.

Unfortunately, she realized a little too late that Silk was not moving from his seat, and that her path – steps hurrying in a futile attempt to catch up to the tipping cup – was leading her straight toward him. She made a slight adjustment – this much at least she could do – in an attempt to lead to her right, to dump her fresh coffee on the floor or some unsuspecting stranger, or…

Oh God, he was moving.

The collision seemed to happen in slow motion. She closed her eyes and heard Silk hiss in pain at the same time she made a rough approximation of the noise herself. After all, her sleeves might be long enough to cover her entire arm, but they were thin as paper and porous as sponges, barely better than nothing as far as protection. As she ran into Silk, the recoil actually kicked some of the coffee up over the top of her arm in a rough, scalding line.

For a brief moment there was just the stark reaction that almost anyone who’s spilled something hot on themselves would have – she shook her arm to the side, trying to rid it of the high-temperature liquid and cool the burned spots simultaneously. AS a result, it took her a moment to realize what she’d just heard.

Silk in this incarnation didn’t seem like a particularly stringent roleplayer, the sort of person who would feel obligated by association to react as realistically as possible to every little thing in The World. So why… why had his reaction to hot coffee been the same as hers?

Apparently, he was having some sort of epiphany of his own at the exact same moment, a sort of joint clarity, as though the gods of The World decided to smack both players upside the head at the same time with a “well duh” stick.

Silk was the first to say something. “Holy shit, No way…

Everything went into reaction then. Her much, maligned grace and reflexes which had served her so poorly just moments before kicked in. She didn’t know what he was going to say next, if anything, but warning bells were going off. She shot him a look, the sort of look women are much better at perfecting than men, the sort of look that says that something has just been or is about to be said that should not be said and it would be best if nothing more WERE said. One hand brushed tensely at her arm, trying to push the last of the coffee from the fabric as she considered saying something, then settled for indicating the door with a brief tilt of her head, muttering an apology to the room and leaving. All she could think was that puppet thing might be watching, listening, right now. She was acutely aware that she’d dropped the only slight protection she had in the form of the Freedom Fighters.

If he was stuck here like she was – like his reaction suggested – she did not want to talk about it in front of a room full of staring, laughing people.

She wasn’t sure if he followed her out or if, having upset his own coffee in her accident, he was just finished with the place on his own, but when he came out her first reaction was a terse apology. She had spilled hot coffee on him, after all. But then…

That… hurt you didn’t it? I mean, really hurt,” she asked, quiet but intense, just waiting for his expression to open out into laughter or mocking. This would never stop sounding stupid to her ears. But what… what were the odds?

_________________
Senna, level 33 Long Arm (710 HP/180 SP)
Most common kit: Ichigou, Racoon Earcaps, Air Bracer, Snow Panther, Winter Coat, Graceful Book
Spells/Skills: (Critical Hit/Death) Repulse Cage, Ap Corv, Ap Vorv, Rai Rom, Rue Zot, La Repth
Click for full equipment and items
14300 (1/23)


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PostPosted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 3:01 am 
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Silk made a quick but painful recovery from the scalding hot coffee. Victor, too, was quick to draw some conclusions about this Senna, a woman whom the previous player behind Silk was quite good friends with. She was stuck in the game also; that was the only logical conclusion to be drawn at this juncture, but beyond that, he knew nothing about her. Still... discovering another player in similar circumstances to his own... this was astounding, to say the least, especially so soon. It was as though the entire World was populated by people stuck in it, but of course Victor knew that wasn't the case. What was the case, however, was that he had discovered another player trapped in this game, and this player was one he knew previously.

Incidentally, a million questions ran through his mind: how had she gotten trapped? Were there others trapped like here? Did she know of anyways to get un-trapped? Victor would use her to his own ends, that much was default; but how useful would she be? Now that there was an opening, the boy behind the Fist Fighter was back to his usual, self-serving self. He was prepared to do whatever it took to achieve his own ends, even if it meant using someone he had just met.

Once the issue with the coffee had been solved, Senna gave Silk a look that could mean only one thing: "Let's go." With a few quick, cursory apologies, Senna moved from the Sundollar into a back alley that practically screamed secrecy and asked the Fist Fighter a quiet but nearly violent with energy question: "That… hurt you didn't it? I mean, really hurt."

Victor weighed his options carefully but instantaneously. He knew what he must do, and that was acknowledge his situation within the World. If she was in a society of others like her, or even if she was the only one of her kind, there was the slight possibility that this Longarm could help Victor to an escape. If that was the case, he would make any friend, help any foe -- in order to achieve his cause. This much was patently obvious. "Yes, it did hurt," he said in a guarded, careful tone. He wanted to seem wary, like any normal person should. If he seemed eager -- intent -- like he truly was, then she might back off, figuring that he was something more than he seemed. "Are you..." he began, not wanting to give anything way. "... you know..."

Around them, the city bustled with life. The back alley in which they stood was improbably clean, but then again, it was a video game. There was no pollution in this universe, and certainly no hobos occupying it. Rapists were out of the question, as were beggars, at least the unsuperficial kind. No, this back alley was quite immaculate compared to the ones found in real life.

Which led Victor back to everything: the situation, the troubles he was in -- everything. He hated even considering it, but he knew that Senna could very well be the key to his escape. Certainly, he was prepared to do whatever it took to get him out of this place. If nothing else, he'd like to wash his hands of the crimes he had committed here. Escaping the reach of his enemies in the world was something that he would very readily accept.

_________________
Level 25 Fist Fighter
Boxing Gloves | Nny Scales | Dice Gloves | Iron Anklet | Time Headband

Skills: Ap Corv, Ap Torv, GiVak Don, Ap Torma, Ap Do, Repth, Kiwami, Double Mortal Scorcher

Wishlist:
1.) Rare Foot Armor
2.) FF Belief
3.) Any stat-altering items


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PostPosted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 3:12 am 
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Are you… you know…

You know. Heh. It would have been funny in another set of circumstances, the secrecy, the hushed tones, the dancing around the topic – it was like something straight out of a poorly-written thriller. The crow flies at dawn and all that nonsense. Senna very nearly did laugh then, and dug her nails into her palms to force it back down. Laughing was not appropriate. It was hysterical, and getting hysterical would be foolish. They’d ended up in this side alley, out of the view of prying eyes which she liked – and since such alleys would be used for purposes of privacy more often than nefarious purposes, especially with the ramped-up security in the Aqua Capitol.

Taking a breath, she tried to calm herself further before answering with one word, though she couldn’t stop from nearly spitting the word in distaste. “[b[Stuck.[/b]” Well, one of them had to say it, and it may as well be her. Saying it reminded her how it happened. Anger replaced hysteria. Good.

Since she was fairly certain he already knew that she was stuck in the game – and she watched him for signs of reaction – she tried to think of what else she could add. Natural suspicion fought with the instinct to trust Silk, even knowing this was not the Silk she’d come to think of as a friend. Rationalism won out after a moment. Marionette had proven itself to be a minor deity in The World – doling out death and life at its whim, playing with lives like toys. If it decided to act, there would likely be little she could do to stop it, and if it was watching the way it seemed to be, it would already know anything she might say aloud. And so…

Just recently,” she added, wondering what Silk made of the pause. “I got lucky. There were others. I mighta died without them.” It was startling, in that moment, to realize it was true. A truth she’d known the whole time, but hadn’t consciously considered. She owed them her life. Another shadow fell across the mouth of the alley, a small group. One of them cast a curious glance at the talking pair as they walked by.

One might argue it was from her interaction with the Freedom Fighters that got her stuck in the first place, but she didn’t see things that way or blame them for anything. It was her decision to join them, after all, and Primal, or the force behind Primal, who did the damage in question. Thinking any other way would be irrational. Right?

Although speaking of irrational, one could argue that this whole conversation was just that – or perhaps insane. It was like one person saying they have terminal cancer or something equally terrible, and the person they’re talking to saying, “oh, me too.” There was something inherently uncomfortable and odd about it.

She started to say more, but stopped herself. Whatever this person might be, there were some things she should just keep to herself. It was just so tempting to talk, since there was someone here who might listen. It wasn’t because she thought he wanted to know – she felt sure that if he did, it was more from morbid curiosity than anything – but because she needed to vent. Well, that could wait. No use in burdening someone else. And…

And now I’m paranoid,” she muttered as she found herself again looking toward the mouth of the alley. There was no one there now, but she’d thought she’d seen movement out of the corner of her eye. Well, likely she had, just as she’d seen movement there the last two times and countless times on others days before this. Mac Anu might be under stricter laws now, it might have a pallor left over from whatever had taken the city apart (and now thanks to what a couple Freedom Fighters had said, she wasn’t so sure she didn’t know the source of that damage, or part of it) but there was no reason to feel so edgy. And yet… she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had to lay low, that she could not just go about as she had before. Perhaps it was something in the inherent wariness that the other members of the group seemed to have. Perhaps it was just foolishness. “Sorry.” She didn’t want to burden him with her stupid wariness. Though she guessed if he’d had some maniac monitoring every move the group he was in made, he might be feeling the same way.

It was an… irritating thought.

_________________
Senna, level 33 Long Arm (710 HP/180 SP)
Most common kit: Ichigou, Racoon Earcaps, Air Bracer, Snow Panther, Winter Coat, Graceful Book
Spells/Skills: (Critical Hit/Death) Repulse Cage, Ap Corv, Ap Vorv, Rai Rom, Rue Zot, La Repth
Click for full equipment and items
14300 (1/23)


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