Snippet #1096116

Ireland: Of Flowers and Knives

Reicha was amazed at the grandeur of the hotel room, but she didn't let it show on her face. When they took a tour around the place (with Reicha secretly checking for stash spots, ambush spots, and trap locations). Eventually, they settled on the couch and ordered food from the country. It tasted much better than the drivel she was used to, that was for sure. And the wine was much better than the ale, which tasted like dirt in comparison. However, there was something that had caught her eye. As they began to talk of questions, Reicha silently began to take off her mask and head wrap, letting her long crimson hair spill out and revealing the young face underneath the cloth. There were scars here and there under her cloak as she draped it over a chair and let the tunic and leggings breath for once, though they were dotted with blood of all different shades. She even began to unwind the bandage wrap she had on her hands, letting the glove like wrappings drape over her cloak. She gave the others a bit of a smile, now looking very much like a teenager as opposed to the intimidating bounty hunter she was with the mask on. However, the sheer amount of weapons belted to her body was slightly amazing, and as she paced back and forth, she began undoing the straps of knife belts and satchels, peeling them off until she had a small pile of knives, metal workings, and other assorted weaponry stacked on the table. She then turned to the group.

"As much as I would love to share story time, there is something necessary that I must attend to." She said, excusing herself and walking into the bedroom on one side, stripping the bed completely, threw it all on the floor, and made a small bed out of it, then shut herself in the bathroom. She looked at the large contraption that looked like a tub, but with holes in the side. If there were holes in the side, how did the water fill? She shrugged and ran the shower instead, fascinated by the miniature waterfall that was created by the spigot. She ran a hand under the water and jumped in surprise at how hot it was, scalding her hand and causing her to draw back and hiss, "Foul contraption." She muttered, tampering with the knob until the water reached a naturally cool temperature, as it would in the wild. She undressed quickly and stepped into the water, relishing the feel of it on her aching muscles. It had been far too long since her last bathing, and she was disgusting. As dirt and blood and who knew what else trailed off of her body, she was surprised nobody had mentioned the stench she had no doubt been emitting. Perhaps politeness still existed in this world. Sifting through the soaps that were there, she was assaulted by an assortment of flowery smells, hardly befitting a bounty hunter of her stature....Well, maybe just a little wouldn't hurt. She globbed it into her hair and lathered, thinking somewhat laughing, somewhat bitterly what others would say about Reicha, the flowery bounty hunter. When she got out and toweled off, she saw a stack of books in the bathroom bin, for pleasure reading while business was done. She picked one up and looked it over. It was entitled Harmony's End. There was a man's picture on the back. James McTavin. A strange name, if she had seen one. Absentmindedly, she rejoined the others and snacked on some of the left over food, very aware of her new flowery scent. She sat back and crossed her legs, stretching a little, and folding the book across her lap, before looking at Masaharu "So Earth doesn't have Magic? How quaint. It's kind of like an ancient Concordia."

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Ireland: The Puppeteer.

James leveled out, finally, taking his seat back at his stool, though there was now a strange eeriness to the house, and it seemed to be sapping his concentration. He shuddered but couldn't shake the feeling. Finally, he sighed and decided to drive over to Emily's. Sure he'd be early, but he was bored out of his mind and couldn't get any work done. Loading the cake, the presents, and a few decorations into the back of his truck, he took the twenty minute drive over to his editor's house. When she came to the door, she gave him a generous smile, helped him unload the car, and they went back inside to set up. Lizzy was at a friends house for another hour or so, so they had plenty of time.

Little did James know that there was someone else pulling the strings, seeing from the woman's eyes, controlling her every move as she was imprisoned in her own body. For five years. She and her daughter had been controlled to be used as pawns for Valius and her father's sick ruse. Jarev Zakiea sat in the attic of his daughter's home, the glowing puppet strings trailing through the ceiling and into his daughter's body. Alyssa, as she was truly called, was much harder to control than Evera, her daughter. But he maintained control, even in his sleep. In this way, he had as much imprisoned his own daughter and grand child to prison as much as Keegan had been, but they were aware. They KNEW. He smirked. Occasionally she would cry herself to sleep against the will of his bindings, but she was incapable of much more.

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Concordia: Interruption

Kiel would have continued the fight if he hadn't smelled the massive amount of death and blood at the castle. He simply blocked Pyrus and began flying toward the castle, "We are needed." Was all he said before racing off.