Is it shit? Yes
Do I care? Not enough to stop me from posting it.
Title it as you will
...Honestly I have nary an idea how I got into this situation, it all seems like the story of a horrible play. The Austrian woman you recognize as Theresa seems to be completely and utterly drunk rambling about to a nearby priest of the chapel about hymns and the arts, at least she seems to be sober enough to still speak french, although her austrian origins are clearly showing. I give the poor clergyman a look of sympathy, it truly must be a test sent to him from The Lord, please, stay strong, brother in faith, even if you are french, and catholic, no one deserves a punishment such as the one you are receiving right now.
But Theresa is only a part of the situation currently at hand, there is also Teresa that is..flirting. With chapel goers. With french chapel goers. French chapel goers attending a wedding. Her slightly sun-kissed face born from days working under the Iberian sun drunkenly laughing and smiling like she has heard the funniest joke in the world and it is reserved for her and her alone. What's worse is how entranced the man she is talking to seems to be, sharing in her amusement. How is she doing this, why are her charms working
Besides me Scharlotte sits cooly observing although her fatigue is clearly shown on her face. I give her a comforting pat on the back. She has been nothing but stalwart as my companion in soberness in the sea of chaos that is our band of ruffians. A paragon of discipline and stoicity, every breath, every little twitch, is controlled, disciplined. Her face as cold and rigid as the mountain peaks of the everest. Although I know that in her heart of hearts I know that she is completely, and utterly disappointed at her long lost sister Theresa. How do I know? A bond forged in shared torment that can bend, but never be broken. For it is one that has already endured the torturous hardship of these damn drunks!
Oh how I wish I can have a nice cup of the finest darjeeling tea right now. Just thinking of it reminds me of the gentle winds of the old manor back at York. Why did I leave on this perilous fool's errand my commanding officer gave me? Ah yes because after joining the army to give these execution happy dastards what for, the realization dawned on me that there is a body of water between England and France and that I may not see combat at all before this mob is dealt with! And so after a bit of pestering my commanding officer gave me the order to..infiltrate France and start a spy network, the paltry amount of funding along with the ambiguous instructions made it clear that they simply wanted me to be rid of me.
And thus after a few hours of wandering around at...the sign said it was Avignon. I decided to rest at a tavern, spotting a gaggle of fellow tall women I joined them and heard their drunken stories although not partaking in the alcohol myself. Theresa and Scharlotte are half-sisters born from the same noble father although Scharlotte herself is a bastard child left in Prussia while Theresa was raised right in the theaters of Vienna. Theresa seems to be left here for misbehaviour while Scharlotte was..abandoned by her comrades although she seems oddly calm about it. Teresa...I honestly can not remember how the girl stumbled her way here but she mentioned that she is also a member of the military? Something of a liaison officer it seems.
And then there is Katarina if we are tall than she is simply gigantic literally standing head and shoulders above us. And honestly the russian giantess is the most enigmatic of our bunch not saying much other than her name. At least I thought she were until she rushed out of the bar. I know not what spell overcame her but she started to rush about in pursuit of...something until she literally crashed through the doors of some chapel, us in tow. Now one might wonder why I, or even the rest of us followed her, why not simply stay at the tavern or run away? Well, I know not how she did it but..she has acquired my funds, along with all of our wallets
And now here we are crashing some poor couple's wedding, speaking of the couple. Those two simply look lovely together, the bride is a fellow tall woman with a simple dress accentuating her features, the bouquet in her hands still held in abject shock. The groom a man a bit shorter than his fiance but nevertheless still quite tall. His stoic and quite handsome face appears to be on the verge of shifting into a snarl of anger or bursting into tears. And he is wearing such a fine silken suit as well, I truly do feel pity for the both of them, this must be a day held with anticipation in their hearts, a day to be remembered as their love are made manifest in the vows and rings exchanged today.
And we ruined it like rats raiding a granary. Sighing in deep, deep mental fatigue I contemplate on simply running away, funds be damned. But no, in some way I am responsible for this as well and I must make amends, after all they cannot possibly be part of the French Army with a following this little no? I approach them with the intent to apologize and introduced myself. "My name is Christine, on the behalf of my companions I sincerely apologize...
