ALAYSIA DUNOIR
G A R D E N I A
Groping about in the darkness, a pale hand weakly searched for an object that eluded it. With a clatter, the gently-shaped fingers briefly touched the handle of the item they sought, only to accidentally knock it away. With a quiet groan, the dark shape forced itself into a crawl, hauling itself forward and laying hold of the weapon before it. Drawing back its - no, her - fragile hand, the Homunculus fell back into a seated position against a small heap of rubble, raising the unmistakable item housing her soul over her head and gazing upon it, silhouetted by the light of the moon through the raining clouds as it shone down through the hole in the warehouse's roof, a hole she'd just inadvertently blown through it, it seemed. Trying to clear her thoughts, she aimed to recall what had happened to her to place her here, but her mind drew a blank. All she remembered was a flash of light, and a brief view of a landscape far, far below her. Then, traveling with the return stroke of a bolt of lightning, she had been cast down, down, down, like an angel falling from heaven, and sent bursting through the roof of the warehouse. The rain was falling through the opening, now, but her body was far enough out of the way as not to get hit by much of it. Still, it was inconvenient. Bracing her trembling legs, she slowly rose, trying to shake off the daze of her crash landing and to remember something... anything.
Then, in a moment, it came to her. Leaning against the wall for support, she slipped her pistol into a large, dark blue bag she found herself holding, then set this down at her feet. In an instant, her clumsy hands had begun fumbling with the top buttons of her blazer, then with those of the featureless white blouse below that. Pulling back her collar, she gazed down, and laid eyes on what she had expected to see: a large emblem in jet black of a six-winged sword driven through the center of a crown, running symmetrically between her shoulders from just below her collarbone to a spot just above the hollow of her chest, its darkness like a void against her pale skin, made all the more apparent by the silvery moonlight shining down on her. To most, the symbol would be an enigma, but she already knew of its significance. The crown symbolized royalty, while the six wings evoked the image of a seraph, a supplicant and servant of the divine. And the sword symbolized her duty: to slay the enemies of the crown she would serve. Then, the final message of the symbol was an indication of the role she had been chosen to serve. She knew not yet who her lord would be, but as for her... she was to find that person, and serve him faithfully as his queen, his most loyal and closest servant.
And there were others - bishops, rooks, knights, and pawns - here in the world for similar reasons. There was even another queen, serving another king. Alaysia couldn't remember enough to know how she knew this, she simply did. She knew enough, in any case. She knew her name, her powers, her strategies, her situation, and her purpose. Memories and other such matters could wait. For now, what was most important was to fulfill her duty. That was what she was created for. She didn't know how she knew that fact, but she did know it, nonetheless. And so, there was no purpose in dallying here. Swiftly refastening the buttons of her blouse and blazer, she swept out her arm, and, in a whirling of scarlet cloth, she found herself draped in a crimson raiment, a tattered yet concealing robe that hid her appearance completely from view. Stretching out, she found that she'd recovered from the impact, and smiled slightly. Evidently, enough of her had been in the form of lightning to largely negate whatever damage the landing might have done. Good. That made things simpler. In that case, she was capable of moving immediately, and without delay.
Her first objective, naturally, would be to locate her highest priority target: the lord she was to serve. As it was now her duty to assist and protect him, her first order of business would be to find him as quickly as possible. For that purpose, she supposed, she'd need some sort of vantage point. Then, she'd need to exercise her senses, and to locate him as fast as possible. This seemed like a reasonable enough plan, at any rate, and so, deciding upon this course of action, the Homunculus turned, picking up her bag containing her gun and hopping deftly up to the top of the pile of rubble created by her fall. Then, bracing herself, she leaped upward, out through the hole in the warehouse roof, and into the stormy night. Already, her violet eyes were scanning the darkened city, and her senses were already spreading out and into the metropolis beyond. Soon enough, she'd find her king...