Mystical Mechanistics Of Outrageous Fortune [Dieselpunk Mechagirl Yuri Quest] (Reboot)

ColdGoldLazarus · Sep 11, 2018

The incident happened on the beach.

You'd strayed from the more popular areas, walking into rougher terrain where the cliffs loomed higher and the surf crashed violently against red rocks that jutted from the sand like gnarled horns and teeth. A crab or two skittered across your path, but you paid them little mind, more focused on your lingering anger. The argument itself had been over something pointless and inconsequential, but your frustration with your parents was real, and the overcast weather seemed to match your poor mood. Stooping down, you picked up a long bit of driftwood, and poked it into the recesses of a nearby crag in the petty hope of ruining some crab's day.

Buried deep in your thoughts, you didn't notice the shadow that fell over you, or hear the distant clanking of machinery and subsequent whistling of air - not until something slammed hard into the ground behind you, the shockwave throwing you at least a dozen feet clear of the impact.

It took a moment to mentally shift gears and realize what had happened; you were suddenly sprawled out and half-covered in sand. The world swam and bobbed strangely as you struggled back to your feet, and your head throbbed. Turning, you came face-to-face with a blunt yet angular snout, featureless yet clearly watching you as it shifted to track your hazy, erratic movements. Steam wafted forth from narrow vents along the bottom edge of the apparent head, blowing uncomfortably warm in your face. You felt strangely calm yet, but there was a growing voice in the back of your head screaming that something was wrong here.

Trying to step backwards, you instead tripped over a hidden rock shelf beneath the sand, landing painfully on your rear and bashing your elbow against a boulder in the process. Your eyes went wide as you beheld in full the monstrous robot, stretching to its full height to loom over you. Somewhere between a crab and a scorpion, it stood on eight spindly-yet-strong mechanical legs, a long segmented body draping itself across the sand as a pair of arms reached forward on either side of you, tipped with long, slender claws. It gleamed smooth metallic black, interrupted only by glowing purple neon lines running along its length, and additional vents produced a steady flow of steam that clung to its arthropod form like a cloak. You distantly found yourself wondering what one of these was doing so far south, but now the proper panic was taking over.

Nearly hyperventilating, with blood pounding in your ears, you don't know how it was you'd regained your feet and ran. Still, a surprising amount of distance had been put between you and the machine when the first blast went off, a loud z-zap and dull boom blowing apart the spot you'd been a mere moment before. You dodged behind a boulder, only for another z-zap to send chunks of basalt flying everywhere.

The chase was short-lived; after a few more dodged bursts, the machine swiftly rushed at you and batted you down with a foreleg. You lay there frozen, staring helplessly as it raised its claws, the cannons within lowering and steadying toward you as the white radiance of compressed lightning built at the tip. You closed your eyes; a flash, a whining screech, and your terrified scream, and it was all over.

...

...Or so you'd thought, until you opened your eyes again. Standing over you was another machine, a tall and proud humanoid figure, its bronze armor gleaming even in the faint, watery sunlight just beginning to peek through the clouds. Smokestacks protruded from the back of the robot, emitting faint wisps of black smog that were quickly whisked away by the breeze. And one other thing you notice - a deep gash through one leg; you realized with a start that this machine had taken the hit for you.

Before you could comprehend the scene properly, though, your savior drew a weapon of its own, and in a single strike the fight was over - A single powerful shot left a gaping cavity through the arthropod robot, and the whole thing fell apart; the limbs and shell twinkling as they dissolved from existence, leaving a broken metal frame embedded with strange crystals.

You laid your head back again, just taking in the gold-streaked grey sky, listening to your breathing slow, still trying to comprehend the terror of what had just happened. You'd almost died, hadn't you? It didn't quite feel real. A moment later, a kind face came into view, bending down over you with an outstretched hand and a warm smile. "Are you okay?"

"Uh… I've been better," you responded with a weak smile, bruised elbow twinging as you reached up to accept her help. She pulls, firmly but gently, and upon finding your feet again, you realized how abnormally tall she was, looming protectively as she checked you over for more serious injuries. "but thank you. You saved my life!"

She looked away shamefacedly at those words. "If we'd gotten this contained earlier, your life wouldn't have been in danger to begin with. But… I'm glad to have helped." Once she was certain you weren't in severe danger, she pressed something into your hand. "Here, take this. As a token of apology. I have to go now; stay safe, okay?" She turned to leave before you could say anything, and you stared after her with a strange ache in your heart entirely unrelated to your wounds. You watch as she takes a seat within her own frame, crystals glowing as the mech reforms around it and hiding her from view. You watch as thrusters on the back propel her back up the cliff, leaping from outcropping to outcropping and then vanishing over the edge. You watch for several moments after, turning to stare at the sunset breaking through the dispersing clouds.

And then you ran, clutching the gift tight to your chest. Past the shattered frame of the robot that nearly killed you, back to the main part of the beach with the umbrellas and sandcastles and children splashing in the water; and the people who were out there less to enjoy the shore and more to keep their minds off the ever-present stress of knowing there was a war on, oblivious to how close the enemy got or how you were mere seconds from death. You found your parents, sitting crossly under an umbrella, and launched yourself into their laps. Tears were forming as it began to sink in - you might never have seen them again, and their last memory of you would have been a big dumb argument about nothing important. "I'm sorry," you cried, "I love you."

And though confused, they set aside their own worries and frustrations to simply hold you tight. "We love you too, no matter what."

Mystical Mechanistics Of Outrageous Fortune

That was four years ago, and the course of your life was changed by that moment. Now, the road it's led you down is nearing its destination. Your name is Alexandra Polinski, and you are eighteen years and three months old. It's a big day today; after training yourself and carefully following the progress (or lack thereof, thankfully) of the invasion through the papers, after submitting for the draft and taking a health inspection in the Capital, you are finally ready to travel north and west to the front. You read back through the letter lying on your dresser, even though you've memorized it by now:

"Dear Madam,

On behalf of the Mzendzyovka Defense Corp and Selective Service System, we would like to thank you for choosing to register for the non-mandatory draft. We are proud to report that your physical and mental scores from the examination not only meet the standards for participation, but were ranked third highest among the applicants this year, making you eligible for the Advanced Service. It is not an easy decision to make, but we urge you to consider participating in the Advanced Service; it is a position of great honor, power, and professionalism, and your support in repelling the invasion would be even more invaluable in this role. Please give your response within a week of receiving this letter…

Sincerely, MDC Secretary P.C. Smith and MDC Director A.E. Waite"

On the vanity beside the letter is the gift left to you by your savior, an insignificant accessory that means so much, that inspired you to follow in their footsteps and save others' lives as yours was saved then.

What Did You Get?
> A grey beaded bracelet From Beatrice Parzival of the Capital, a reclusive but kindly beauty. You are confident she'll be no different than when you met her.
> A copper pocketwatch From Nasira Demir of the east. She's got a reputation for being tough but fair, but you just know she won't be too hard on you.
> A black fiery bandanna Given to you by Victoria Conley. She's from the south, same as you! She's a reckless hothead, but you're sure she'll cool her flame for you.
> A silver snowflake necklace From Anastasia Svetlana of the north. You've heard she's become cold and distant in recent years, but you are certain she's the same woman of soft snow underneath.

Affixing the gift, you give yourself a last assessment in your vanity mirror.

How Tall Are You?
> Tall You tend to bump your head on things, but you've been able to reach the cookie jar for forever.
> Average You don't stand out much, but at least you don't stand out much.
> Short You're cute and sometimes get your way because of it, but tend not to be taken seriously ever.

Body?
> Toned It's gotten you mistaken for a boy sometimes, but you've worked hard and it shows.
> Feminine Average for your age, but still appealing.
> Spindly You're still growing out of your awkward teenage proportions.

What Is Your Hairstyle?
> "Intentionally" Messy Forgetting to comb this morning doesn't mean it looks bad...
> Bob Cut Favored among tankery prodigies and isomorphic algorithms.
> Short Ponytail Feminine, yet efficient.

Hair Color?
> Reddish-Pink
> White
> Black

Eye Color?
> Grey Like a comfortable wool blanket on an overcast day.
> Green Speaking of mystery and humor.
> Teal Matching the sea you grew up beside.
> Red To match the fire in your soul!
> Pink Conveying both kindness and power.

What Are You Wearing?
> Pencil Skirt And Suit You want them to know you're taking this seriously.
> Casual Dress And Bolero You want to look nice without going overboard.
> Sporty Top And Shorts You'll be ready if you're going to be put to work right away.
> Short Skirt And A Looong Jacket You want to look cool when you make your entrance.
> Your Reused School Uniform Getting a bit tight on you, but it's the thrifty option.

And here we go again; a second attempt at this quest, with hopefully 99% less QM incompetence and 1000% more actual progression. I would like to thank both of the lovely people who both encouraged me to go with the reboot option, and helped me improve on this initial post. (Won't call out names here, but you know who you are. ^_^ ) For old readers, you'll find that a lot from the original quest will be carried over, but I'm going to do my best to provide better choices and meaning; for new readers, welcome! You don't need to worry about reading the old quest to be able to follow what happens here; everything will be explained again here, and probably better at that. All in all, I hope to make this far more successful than the original run, and properly convey Alexandra's journey from here to... whatever might come.

ColdGoldLazarus · Sep 11, 2018

Name: Alexandra Polinski
Age: 18
Number: 00
City: Skvarsava
Rank: Eighth

Height: Tall
Figure: Toned
Skin: Tan
Hair: Salmon/Maroon
Eyes: Lime
Hairstyle: Messy Ponytail
Outfit: Black Blouse, Skirt & Shoes, Lime Tie, Long Maroon Jacket
Bust: Perky

(Pending)

Name: Yelena Klementia
Age: 18
Number: 18
City: Krasnaya
Rank: Eighth

Height: Medium-Tall
Figure: Feminine
Skin: Pale
Hair: White
Eyes: Dark Blue
Hairstyle: Bob Cut
Outfit: Black Dress & Shoes, Black-And-White Stockings, Red Scarf & Headband
Bust: Medium

(Pending)

Name: Hatice Volkov
Age: 18
Number: 09
City: Barrasson
Rank: Eighth

Height: Short
Figure: Feminine
Skin: Pale
Hair: Black
Eyes: Purple
Hairstyle: Hime Cut
Outfit: Navy Blue Peacoat, Bright Blue Skirt, Black Leggings & Shoes, White Shirt
Bust: Small

(Pending)

Name: Lynx Desjardins
Age: 18
Number: 19
City: Diphaci
Rank: Eighth

Height: Medium
Figure: Curvy
Skin: Tanned
Hair: Orange
Eyes: Light Blue
Hairstyle: Short & Messy
Outfit: White Top, Zebra-Striped Undershirt, Orange Skirt, Black Boots
Bust: Large

(Pending)

Name: Elaine Luciole
Age: 18
Number: 01
City: New Cauterets
Rank: Eighth

Height: Tall
Figure: Spindly
Skin: Lightly Tanned
Hair: Apple-Green
Eyes: Brown
Hairstyle: Low Twintails
Outfit: Tan Blouse, Dark Green Flannel Skirt & Tie, Black Shoes
Bust: Flat

(Pending)

ColdGoldLazarus · Sep 11, 2018

Mzendzyovka Flag

13?? - Mzendzyovka founded
1918 - Great War Ends
1924 - Alexandra born
1926 - Barrier cuts off Mzendzyovka
1936 - Robots begin invading Mzendzyovka
1937 - Robots driven back by first mechs
1938 - Defensive line broken through; Alexandra saved
1939 - Mass recruiting begins, war enters lull period, New Cauterets founded
1942 - Present Day

(To Be Added)

1: QM Quality Control - I will not post an update until I am absolutely sure I say what I mean and mean what I say.
1.5: No Take-Backs - If I still find I missed something until after posting, I will not retcon it out from under voters' noses.
2: Third Option Valid - Write-ins are still encouraged in general, but I will state clearly if that is not the case for a specific voting cycle.
2.5: Third Option Invalid - If I do find a write-in to conflict in some way with what I intended for the vote, I will first ask myself why that is and if it's really that big of a deal. If I don't have a satisfactory answer, I will leave it be; if I do have a valid reason, I will communicate as soon and clearly as possible why I am not permitting it. If it has more than three votes by that point, I will call for a re-vote.
3: Both Are Good - In the event of a tie, unless the votes contradict each other, I will integrate both into the ensuing update.
3.5: Only One Can Win - In the event of a tie where the votes do contradict, I will roll a die to decide which one wins.
4: No Room For Human Error - I have, since the original run of the quest, learned how to use the automatic tally function. I will use this instead of tallying things manually.
4.5: There's Too Many - In the event of another multi-track vote like this one, I will either set up a task system, or clarify that it will work by Plans.

ColdGoldLazarus · Sep 19, 2018

Looking yourself over, you nod in satisfaction. You're tall and lean, your efforts over the past four years having resulted in a fit figure… even if it's occasionally gotten you mistaken for a boy. Your short hair is a vibrant reddish-pink shade that fades into a darker maroon at the fringes, contrasting nicely with your bright lime-colored eyes. Your perpetually-messy locks are pulled back into something approximating a ponytail, though it always takes a disproportionate amount of struggle to do so, so you've all but given up on attempting to do any styling past that.

You at least make up for it with your wardrobe, though; an array of fairly stylish outfits interspersed with some workout clothes and a few more casual pieces. For today, you've put on a particularly nice ensemble; a black button-up blouse with a lime green tie to bring out your eyes, and a dark grey skirt that ends halfway down your thighs; scandalously short in the eyes of most of your parents' generation, but not quite short enough in your opinion. Pulling it all together is a pair of modest wedge-bottomed heels, and a long open maroon jacket that goes down nearly to your ankles.

And of course, the final and most important item, not for looks (as it's hidden under the jacket's long sleeves anyway) but for you, personally - a simple, grey ribbon bracelet, with modest wooden beads loose around it, that clack satisfyingly against each other when you absentmindedly fiddle with it sometimes. It's a strangely humble item to come from the woman who saved you; Beatrice Parzival, a woman of unrivalled beauty, solid intellect, and rather wealthy upbringing. All that you discovered after the fact, of course; all you'd known at the time was that she was gorgeous, and more importantly, she was kind. Your heart races whenever you think of your meeting on that beach and you… you're not sure what to call the feeling you have, honestly. But what you know for sure is that you want to be like her.

And well, today is the day, isn't it? Your luggage is mostly packed, and you'll be taking the train north in only a couple of hours from now. All that's left to do now is grab some breakfast, and the wonderful aromas seeping under the door tell you that it's just about ready.

What stops you, though, is the discussion. Instead of opening the door, you lean against it, listening intently to the voices coming from the dining room down the hall.

"She's leaving today." The low, feminine voice with just a hint of an accent belongs to your mother.

"I know, yes. I'd rather you didn't remind me." And the deeper tone, usually kind and jovial but today flavored by irritation and worry, belongs to your father.

"I am reminding you to be happy for her. She's been working for this for four years now; is it not a big occasion?"

"I cannot be happy to be sending my only child off to war." Your father mutters tiredly. "I don't want her to suffer even a fraction of what I've seen. And neither should you."

There is a long silence before your mother speaks again. "Believe me, I am not. Even if it's been quiet the past few years, I remember just as well as you what it was like when they first came through. I don't like the idea of Lesya going out there any more than you do… but this is her choice, and I believe she can handle it well. This isn't like the Great War, you know."

"But war it still is." Your father simply says, and they both fall silent. You look down at the floor, understanding and frustration battling within you. But you're able to push down those feelings soon enough, put on a bright smile, and head out to eat.

Your mother is at the stove, preparing Sucuklu Yumurta for the three of you. The spiced sausage and eggs smell wonderful, and you have to resist the urge to steal some directly from the pan. Daryna Polinski herself is a tall, slender woman with dark skin, wavy hair in a gradient from grey to black, and cunning amber eyes. She's an accountant, but even at her relatively mundane position she has attained a certain level of infamy, with a way of getting what she wants even (or especially) when her superiors have tried their hardest to 'put her in her place.' She has been nothing but a kind mother to you, but her ruthlessness in the workplace is both inspiring and somewhat frightening. She grins as you enter, reaching over to ruffle your already-messy hair, and offers you the biggest serving of the Yumurta. "How are you feeling today?"

"Nervous, but excited," you answer honestly, taking a seat and waiting for her to join you.

"That is understandable," your father says, his tone as cheery as ever. Symon Polinski is a shorter man with pale skin, salmon-colored hair like yours, and twinkling eyes in a deep shade of green. He's hardly wide-set, but certainly a tad stockier, the muscles he'd developed as a sailor now put to use as a warehouse worker. Sometimes he complains about being restricted to land, but between his prosthetic leg and the barrier enclosing the country, there's not much that can be done to fix that; and though his stories from when he used to travel and trade in far-off locations intrigue you, mostly you're just glad to have him around full-time. It's strange, in a way, to consider that you'll be the one leaving them behind now.

"Understandable?" You ask, feigning confusion. You can't let them know you were eavesdropping, but maybe if you could open up the conversation again you could find some way to assuage their worries.

However, he's in full humor mode by now. "Of course! You are going to meet other women your age who are not Sophia. With your charms, I can only hope you'll restrain yourself, and come home with merely one or two… on each arm." You're honestly not sure what he means, just staring blankly.

"Symon!" Daryna swoops in to lightly swat him on the head with a rolled-up newspaper, but she's more amused than anything, rolling her eyes as she takes a seat. "Don't be telling jokes like that; you may give her ideas."

"Oh, I'm simply saying she may have inherited some of her father's old bad habits." He says with a laugh and a wink. "Daryna is my life and love, but before I met her, I took perhaps more than my fair share of fine ladies home."

Your mother simply sighs fondly, an aggressive look entering her expression. "Well perhaps later I should remind you why you stopped doing that, after you met me."

Blushing slightly, you loudly speak up again. "Aaanyway, on the subject of coming home, I'm going to find out when I can get time off and let you know as soon as I can. I'm serious about going out there, but I don't want to just leave you behind," you explain, hoping that will help ease their concerns a bit.

Symon nods quietly, looking down at his food. "Please do let us know how it goes." He grins again, looking back up at you. "I expect no less than one letter for each day you're out there, Lesya. I'm serious."

You simply smile and nod, and the matter seems settled. The rest of breakfast passes quietly and comfortably, and soon enough Daryna vanishes into the master bedroom to get dressed up for the day; seeing you off at the station and then heading to work immediately after. Checking the clock, there's still a decent amount of time before you have to go; you're considering rechecking your suitcase when Symon taps you on the shoulder. "Do you want to take your old, crotchety father for a short walk outside?" He says, lifting his prosthetic leg in a self-depreciating manner. "I need my exercise, you see."

As the two of you step out on the porch, you take in a deep breath, enjoying the clean and cool air in your lungs. The sun has yet to rise, and the early morning is lovely; with a thick coastal fog obscuring everything, the streetlights twinkling through the branches of the many trees, and the grass thick with dew. You set off down the street, just quietly enjoying the atmosphere, but at the intersection, your father points down a different road than the one you typically take during your morning runs.

Heading the direction he indicated, it isn't long before you cross a small bridge running over one of the several streams that run through town; there's a bench on one side overlooking the water. "I think here's a good stopping point," he says, making a show of sitting down as slowly and painfully as possible, (with some exaggerated groans for good measure) and you take a seat beside him.

For several long moments, he stares quietly out at the water, before speaking again, tone serious again. "Lesya, I… I do not want you to think I don't support you, or do not understand. Whatever it was that happened four years ago, it changed you, and not necessarily in a bad way. You have… direction, now. And if that direction leads you away from us, I may not like it, but I would be the worst kind of hypocrite to try to deny you that. I know what it's like to see a greater purpose waiting for you beyond the horizon, and feeling trapped when you can't go to it."

He shakes his head. "I just want you to be careful. Your mother said to me that this isn't like the Great War, and she's right. You have so much more in your favor now that I did when I fought, or even those who fought four years ago. That old conflict was caused by alliances and egos, while this is something else entirely, something we had no choice in. But war is still terrible, and not something we must ever grow fond of. And… in my experience, whenever it almost reaches a point of calm, someone will invent something new and horrible that plunges everything back into chaos again. Given the things your opponents are already capable of, I shudder to think what may be waiting in the wings. Do you understand?"

Quietly, you nod, reluctantly accepting that he has a good point. "Good. I understand that you want to do this to help and defend people, and I respect that you are an adult now who can make your own decisions. I just want you to be safe, and… happy." He turns to you, laying a hand on your shoulder.

"But enough about that!" He says, suddenly on his feet once again. "We should get home again; you don't want to be late!"

Soon enough, you're back in your room, passing a glance around and realizing this could be the last time you're in here for quite a while; despite your anticipation for what's coming, you feel a little homesick already, too. Double checking your luggage to distract yourself, you make sure you've got everything you need; clothes, a pajama dress, hygienic pads, and your various papers and a map of the valley.

Along with that are several items you don't strictly need but would feel incomplete without; Mr. Shell, your second-favorite turtle plushie, (Your favorite, Mrs. Shell, is much too big to fit into the bag, and so rests in the spot of honor atop your pillow to await your return.) an alarm clock, your father's old sailing compass, a newspaper clipping of Beatrice from early on in the war, a framed photograph of you and your parents at the docks, and a handful of books. Olivia, War Of The Worlds, a World Atlas also from your father, the more recent pulp publications Symphonic Gears (volumes I, II, and III; a fourth had been recently released, but you had yet to get ahold of it) and a slim pin-up catalogue that you'd hastily buried under everything else.

You're surprised to find that something else has been added while you weren't looking; a thick tome with the curious title of 'All Quiet On The Western Front' with a handwritten note from your mother on the inside cover - "Something to think about, love." You sigh at their protectiveness, but after a moment of consideration, set it back in the suitcase. Just to be safe.

Finally, lying in a slightly-squished roll atop everything else, is a quartet of recruitment posters you'd... appropriated… from a wall full of them a few years back. You don't unroll them now, given how much effort it had taken to get them all together in the first place, but it's tempting to open them up again and give a long hard look over the one depicting Beatrice in silhouette. You'll be meeting the real woman soon enough again, though, and the thought makes your heart race.

"Lesya, are you ready to go?" Daryna calls, and you close up the suitcase, turn off the lights, give Mrs. Shell a parting wave, and head out.

After a short walk to the next road over and hopping aboard the trolley as it trundles by, you look out at the passing scenery, wondering how long it will be before you can see it all again. Homes transition into storefronts and eateries, and before long you step out again just across from the train station. The mist is starting to lift, allowing you to take in the base of the somewhat imposing red cliff beyond it, the same cliffs that surround the whole town on three sides. Stepping into the station to get your tickets sorted out, it isn't long before you make it out onto the main platform, the overhanging roof and lingering chill creating something of a gloomy atmosphere, and the other travelers scattered about are dark silhouettes against the fog. "Sorry about the lights," a repairman crouched by the wall says as you pass; "the wires are shorting out. Again."

Fortunately, the moodiness of the scene is offset by another familiar face already waiting to see you off. Sophia Payliuk, a classmate and friend of yours, stands up from her bench and grins slightly as she approaches. She's significantly shorter than you, with mousy brown hair loose around her shoulders and heavy eyebrows that typically give her something of a grumpy look. (Though it may just be because she's typically very grumpy by default.) She's dressed in an excessively formal outfit as always, and the austere look is completed by the wide circular glasses over her dark indigo eyes. On a couple of occasions when she's taken them off, you found her rather more attractive… but not in a romantic way, of course! Just a friendly appreciation for another girl's good looks. Besides, there's an older boy she likes, not that that's any of your business.

"Symon, Daryna," She greets your parents, with a curt nod but a warm smile, before turning to you with a more critical gaze. "And what do you think you're doing, looking like that? Come over here, let me fix your damn hair."

"You can certainly try," you grin back, following as she leads you further down the platform and away from the crowd. You don't expect anything to come of this; she's typically had no more luck than you have in wrangling your hair into something resembling a socially acceptable shape.

You get down on one knee so she can reach, and she attacks your hair with a heavier-duty brush than usual. "What are you going to do without me?" She asks aloud. "You're a disaster as it is even with me around. I don't want to even consider how badly you're bound to embarrass yourself today."

"Wow, thank you so very much for the vote of confidence," you respond drily, half-amused at her ribbing, half-irritated at knowing she wasn't entirely joking. She doesn't respond for several moments, but her brushing becomes rougher; you wince as it feels like she's about to yank hair out of your scalp. "Is there something wrong?" You ask.

"Other than your hair refusing. To. Cooperate… not really." Her tone is still more tense than usual, and indeed, a moment later she adds "Though there is something I wanted to tell you. Probably should have mentioned it earlier, but… well. Now or never."

You stand up and turn to look her in the eyes and clasp her hands, noting the difference between her pasty complexion and the tan of your own mixed heritage. Still, you can't resist one last joke. "Could it be that you've had a secret crush on me this whole time?" You grin wide, but she just gives you a deadpan glare.

"You know that's not it." You feel strangely disappointed at that response, but brush it off easily enough. "Anyway, what I did want to say is that-" She's cut off by a shrill whistle and the roar of a locomotive as it pulls up; you're pretty sure you see her swear in response but can't hear anything. Once the noise settles, she just sighs and pats your shoulder. "Be safe, okay? I'll see you soon."

After that, you return to your parents and hug them tight, bid them both farewell, and promise again to write every day. Sophia gives you a sarcastic salute, and you grin in response as you board. Finding a window overlooking the platform, you lean out to exchange some final goodbyes, and then you're off.

The station was already on the edge of the city, so it doesn't take long for the buildings to fall away. The railroad climbs along the red cliffs, providing you with a final breathtaking vista of Skvarzava, the cliffs on either side, and the sparkling sea beyond as the sun begins to rise. And then the train enters a tunnel and your view is replaced with rough rock and the occasional wooden supporting beam.

Soon enough the train emerges again, having turned northward in the tunnel; now that you're topside, you're traveling through wide grassy plains stretching east and west, with mountains in the middle distance. You already gawked at the view plenty when you traveled to the capital a few months back, though, so instead you pull the window shade down and settle in. You didn't realize how tired you were, having been unable to sleep much last night from anticipation, so you let the rhythmic clacking of the wheels slowly lull you to sleep.

You're awoken by a sharp whistle, and open the window again to look out into busy city streets and tall buildings. You're in Barrasson, the capital. It's mid-morning now, the sun shining cheerfully down onto the scene. The train is slowing down, and your view is shortly replaced by a parallel line and platform as it pulls into the central station.

It doesn't take long to gather your belongings and step out into a somewhat smoggy atmosphere, the station's glass roof capturing the fumes from the locomotive and making you cough a bit. Checking the travel information, you find you have a two-and-a-half layover until the train scheduled to take you to New Cauterets (and by extension, the Front) is set to leave. You have some free time and a decent amount of spending money in one of your pockets; what do you want to do?

How do you spend your time?
> Go window-shopping! Barrasson is the place of high society, and accordingly, high fashion. Even if there's not much point in getting too fancy with it and the prices are likely way out of your range, you can still appreciate the view.
> Eat something! It'll be noon by the time you're set to leave; you have snacks along, but why not go find a quiet cafe and take a nicer, early lunch?
> Go sightseeing! Last time you didn't really get to just explore, and Barrasson is filled with all sorts of old buildings, government offices, and other interesting landmarks.
> Just stay here. It's going to be a long day as it is; you'd rather just find a corner fairly free of smoke and relax, save your energy for the upcoming leg of the trip and introduction to the base.

ColdGoldLazarus · Oct 7, 2018

You decide to enjoy this opportunity to embark on some proper sight-seeing, which you didn't get the chance to do last time you came. So it is that with your suitcase in tow, you head for the exits and wander out into the bright sunlight.

It must have rained prior to your arrival, because the streets are slick and littered with puddles, forcing you to weave about through the crowd to avoid the deepest spots. Even so, you do enjoy the atmosphere it provides, the sunlight reflected and scattered in interesting ways by the water, and you think you can even see a hazy rainbow cast onto one of the larger buildings overhead.

The streets here are wider than those down in Skvarzava, but the buildings tower much higher than you're used to, and with many more people out and about, so it feels a bit claustrophobic if anything. At least it's mostly just people walking along; only occasionally does an automobile pass through and force people to move aside for it. They aren't exactly rare here, but certainly not common either; typically only owned by rural farmers who live a way out from the cities, and rich families who flaunt theirs as a status symbol. Everyone else gets by on foot, cable car, and train, and that's worked out pretty well so far.

Speaking of which, you come to a halt at the intersection, waiting with a handful of others until a trolley comes by, figuring this will speed up your little excursion. Hopping aboard, you take a seat and pull out your map, alternating between enjoying the view and figuring out where you want to stop first.

In a way, it's kind of strange to think that this all began as a raggedy little tent-city, threatening to topple into the river beside which it had been set up. This country had started from humble means; refugees fleeing from some medieval crusade from one now-defunct kingdom to another, but along the way became hopelessly lost. Stumbling upon a sizable and fertile, yet remote and undiscovered valley, it didn't take long for them to decide this was a perfect place to settle. Starting with essentially nothing meant that there were early difficulties, of course. But being so isolated granted them a solid century to build up and farm in peace, growing into a flourishing and self-sufficient city-state before the rest of the world came knocking.

The trolley slows again, and you step down onto the street as it passes by a large open circular city square. This is the intersection for a great number of the city's winding roads, resembling the eye of a massive storm as pedestrians and vehicles swirl around the relatively tranquil center area. Fountains and raised gardens, divided by walkways, are arranged around a statue in the middle, and you take a few moments to appreciate the artistry.

Depicting two men shaking hands, a plaque explains it was made to commemorate the (relatively) peaceful reestablishment of contact between Mzendzyovka and the outside world. A group of explorers and geographers stumbled across the valley by accident, while marking out borders for the neighboring Ruritania. It had taken a great deal of politicking to convince the rulers of the much larger country to allow the valley to remain independent, but it was ultimately surprisingly successful, though in hindsight mostly likely due to Ruritania's own struggles. Being pressured on other fronts by their neighbors meant they simply couldn't afford to sink resources into bringing Mzendzyovka to heel, but that didn't make the valley's people any less grateful for their fortune. After that, it didn't take long for other groups of outcasts and wanderers to make their way here, and while there were occasional conflicts in integration, Mzendzyovka remained largely peaceful.

Bidding the statue farewell, you continue on your tour. Another short jaunt on the trolley leaves you in a wide, grassy park a bit further from the city center; a more recent and modernistic installation, the landscape architecture was designed to map to Mzendzyovka itself, with small sculptures representing the cities. Barrasson is a symmetrical pointed spire in the very middle, of course. You take a walk around the perimeter, visiting each city in the order they were founded.

Krasnaya, nestled among the northern mountains, is your first stop. While the whole park has been carefully planned to match the elevation changes of the valley, it becomes a great deal more dramatic here, with raised layers walled in by tight-packed wooden poles, giving the area the appearance of a strangely-shaped stacked cake. The town itself is represented by a metal sculpture of a steam-shovel in between the peaks. Despite being the second-oldest of the cities, Krasnaya's focus on mining, as well as the harsh geography and cold climate, have also left it at a consistently small size.

Next is Cauterets in the west, represented by a small pair of gates that you can actually walk through, up against a five-foot tall ridge to represent the huge cliff escarpment that overshadows the real city. Cauterets lies in ruins now, unfortunately, but before it fell to the invading robots it was the second-largest after Barrasson itself, and welcomed immigrants from the pass with open arms. You can't help but notice that someone has planted a wooden pole in the ground a few meters away, with the word hope crudely carved down one side. It must represent the location of New Cauterets, the tiny fledgling farming community founded by those who once lived in the fallen city. You give it a bittersweet smile as you pass by, moving on to your own hometown.

Skvarsava, of course, is situated in a lower gully accessible by a small wooden staircase, and opens out into a medium-sized duck pond with a fountain in place of the sea. The city itself is represented by a sculpture of a modern merchant ship with smokestacks instead of sails. Your father worked aboard one of those, visiting far-off places to exchange for items that even Mzendzyovka's self-sufficiency was unable to produce, until the barrier appeared.

It was a near-miss from never seeing him again; frankly; he had set out to go for a several-month trip on the same morning as the valley was cut off from the world. Instead of vanishing for weeks, the ship returned to harbor later that day with its prow destroyed from running headlong into the sudden invisible wall. The fortunate timing was offset by tragedy, though, as an accident caused by the impact left many sailors wounded, Symon among them with a missing leg. They got him to the hospital in time to save his life, but he was on crutches for several years, (which also left him unable to join the war when the machines began to appear) and only more recently was able to get a prosthetic replacement. Frankly he seemed less concerned with that than being physically cut off from the wider sea, but it was a terribly backhanded stroke of luck nonetheless.

Shaking your head to clear away those negative ponderings, you make your way to the final corner of the park, which is mostly filled with a small yet dizzying hedge maze to represent the forests that cover that side of the valley. You finally find your way to the middle, though, where a miniaturized factory stands for Diphaci, the (relatively) newest of the cities. Initially founded by a wave of immigrants from lands to the southeast, it quickly became known for its lumber and textiles. Diphaci underwent a radical transformation, however, once technologies in the outside world began to accelerate. The city quickly grew in industry and development, creating the cable-car systems in most of the cities and generally bringing Mzendzyovka to a more even footing with the rest of the world. And after the barrier isolated the valley and the robots began to invade, it was in Diphaci that the salvaged remains of the attackers were reverse-engineered to create the first mechs used to fight back. The same ones you'll be using soon... You leave the park feeling a little more optimistic, reminded what you're on the way to do.

Still, checking the hour from a nearby clocktower, there's still plenty of time to kill. So what's next? Glancing over the map again, you pick out the old castle as a possible destination, but ultimately decide against it. While relatively small compared against those you've seen in photos and illustrations from the outside world, it is still big enough that a tour of the place would definitely run over your allotted time. The now-defunct building, being the home of the monarchy, has been turned into a museum after Mzendzyovka shifted to a more oligarchical form of government, and while interesting in the abstract, you're not sure you have the patience to hear about all the artifacts from that period, insignificant or otherwise, on display. Still, you can at least appreciate the architecture from a distance, which it's placement on a high hill allows quite easily.

The trolley rolls further afield of the city center, the buildings growing smaller as you go. It isn't long before you find yourself at the main southwestern gate, and the low brick wall that encompasses Barrasson. Stepping off again, you step out through the gates and wander a little ways down the wide road stretching out into the prairie and farmlands. Waiting a few dozen meters past the big entrance is a pair of artillery platforms, flanking the road and pointed west.

Mzendzyovka was peaceful for most of its history, but there were of course exceptions. Ruritania occasionally did make an actual effort to absorb the valley, when younger and brasher leaders came into power, so militias were created to ward off such attempts and make sure it was never worthwhile for the would-be conquerors, and defensive fortifications erected with a sometimes downright paranoid zeal. The insecurities of the tiny nation truly escalated during the Great War, though, with news of the biggest countries seeking to grow even bigger, tearing each other to shreds and ruthlessly trampling anyone who happened to be in the way in the process. Diphaci's factories worked overtime to churn out artillery emplacements and ammunition, and the armories overflowed with fresh-forged rifles and helmets. Such preparations ultimately proved unnecessary, since the valley's inaccessibility meant it was passed over entirely in favor of more convenient land-routes, but Ruritania wasn't so fortunate. When the dust settled, the long-time neighbors and occasional rivals had been replaced by a bigger, less predictable nation, and Mzendzyovka found itself again playing host to a new wave of immigrants who wanted to settle down as far from the fighting as possible; your father being among them.

Of course, everything stocked up from the Great War did eventually find use; the first year of this new, more alien war was a brutal and bloody slog with an unthinkable toll in the numbers of your generation. It was only because of the extreme preparations beforehand that the machines were stopped from overtaking the valley right away, and even then they were terrifyingly close to these very gates by the time the tide began to turn.

While too many men fought and died in the field, the top minds in Diphaci used the time they bought to gradually learn from the recovered technology, create armored defenders with it, and select the most promising young women from each of the cities to pilot them. While originally passed over to fight on account of their gender, they were now the best hopes to save the valley. And so, they did. With the machines pushed back to the pass and the front established to keep them there, the war cooled down. Even so, the emplacements were left here... just in case.

It's a sobering thought, but also one that makes you determined. They served well, but you intend to make sure these turrets are never necessary to use again. With that decided, you bid them farewell and walk back through the gates, returning to the stop to wait for the next trolley.

The trip back inward is both faster and longer, without any more interesting stops along the way. You're still feeling a bit tired from last night's lack of rest, but also a bit antsy, knowing you're in for another long period of sitting on the train soon. Still, you have time for one last longish stop or a couple of shorter ones, so you decide to take a look at city hall and the library, which are housed in the same building. It's not that far from the Train Station, anyway, so when the trolley returns to the intersection where you originally boarded it, you hop off and walk the handful of blocks northeast to reach it.

The city hall doesn't look like anything special from the outside; aside from some tall pillars and a wide staircase in front, it's an austere chalk-white block with windows, four stories tall and about twice as long as its width. However, you've heard the interior is a different story, so it is that you ascend the steps and push through the heavy wooden doors. A short hallway opens up into a wider lobby, and you stop to stare in awe. A terrace wraps in an oval around a central open space that connects all four floors, as well as the underground level. A tall chandelier is suspended in the middle, the long beams of glass hanging down like the branches of a willow tree, and the whole thing looks like a massive golden-glowing icicle aimed threateningly at the mosaic floor below. Staircases wrap around the interior of the cylinder, connecting the floors, and everything is polished to the point of gleaming, the reflected golden light seeming almost blinding. It's all still tasteful, too, but certainly opulent enough to juuust border on overkill.

Making your way around the edge, you descend to the bottom to better examine the mosaic, but it turns out to be disappointingly abstract no matter which angle you view it from, simply depicting the blue, red, and orange sunset flag. You remember hearing that there was supposed to be a depiction of the last king before the shift to oligarchy hidden in there, but Sophia had dismissed it as an urban legend. You hate to admit she's probably right. As usual.

Shrugging in disappointment, you make to head back upstairs, until you hear voices from down one of the darkened hallways. Feeling somehow guilty about your presence, yet overwhelmed by curiosity, you dash to one side of the opening and listen in to the argument around the corner.

"What are you doing? This is an embarrassment, 'Lena!" An older woman is hissing in anger, and you wince at her tone.

"I'm sorry," a younger female voice responds, downcast. "I didn't realize you were in the middle of a meeting."

"You could have knocked," the first woman suggests sharply. "Now the reading's been thrown off and I will have to start all over again. He was getting impatient enough as it was."

"I'm sorry." The other girl repeats, tone dull.

"And what are you even doing here anyway? Weren't you going off to throw away your life or something?" The dismissive tone makes you frown in anger.

The other girl is audibly incensed as well, but somehow manages to keep her composure. "I will be going out there soon, yes. I just… wanted to spend some time with you before that. I didn't realize it was a bad time."

The woman lets out a sigh, taking on a softer tone. "I'm sorry too; that was unfair of me to say. I just wish you would have announced yourself first, okay? I could have finished up in time to see you off, but now I don't think I will be able to."

Before the girl can respond, a third, vaguely whiny male voice intrudes; "If you two are quite finished now, I would like to complete this… reading, before my next appointment."

You peek around the corner just in time to see the woman embrace the girl in a brief hug, before vanishing through a nearby doorway and leaving her alone in the dimly-lit hall. The girl stands still for several moments, before letting out a long, low sigh and leaning against the wall, fiddling with something in her hands.

Once again compelled by curiosity, you step out into the open and hesitantly approach the girl, looking her up and down as you do so. She's a little shorter than you, and is wearing a simple black dress with a high collar and long sleeves; both the cuffs and the skirt have a white frilly inner layer that peeks out just slightly. (Though you wonder how much of it is influenced by the dress's shaping, you find yourself appreciating her subtle but effective hourglass figure.) Along with that, she has thigh-high stockings vertically striped in black and white almost like a convict's uniform, and black high-heels with rounded toe sections. Her wide bob of hair is a snowy white and her skin is like porcelain; the only real splashes of color come from a red headband that separates her bangs from her sidelocks, a red scarf loosely wrapped over her shoulders, and her deep blue eyes. She's expressionless, disinterested as she handily shuffles through a deck of cards, and paired with her somewhat austere appearance, she comes off as a little bit intimidating.

You begin to rethink your actions; you shouldn't have been listening in on their business, you should probably just head back… but it's too late now; she's noticed you. Glancing up from her cards, she fixes you with a vague stare and tilts her head to one side. "I'm sorry, am I in your way?" Her voice is high and feminine, but her tone is as flat as her expression. "I can move if you need."

"Oh, no, don't worry," you respond hastily. "I, uh…" You bite your lip. Would it be rude to admit to eavesdropping, or worse to keep it a secret? "I was just looking around; I heard some arguing from over here, a little bit ago, and got curious."

She simply looks back down at her cards. "I see. It's nothing you need to worry about."

"Are… you okay?" You ask, drawing a little closer.

She blinks, then again more rapidly, and reaches up to rub at one eye. "...I've been better," she finally admits. "Let's talk somewhere else." Picking up the suitcase at her feet, she steps away from the wall and brushes past. Before you follow her lead, you linger just long enough to look at the doorway the other woman had gone into. Wedged closely between two other doors in a way that makes you suspect the interior is rather small, it bears a simple copper plaque that reads Office of Divination. Huh.

Following the girl back out into the main area, where the bright lights seem annoying now more than impressive, the two of you ascend back to the main floor without exchanging a single word. It isn't until you're back outside the main doors that she finally stops, taking a seat on one side of the big stairs leading down to the street. Taking a seat beside her, you observe in curiosity; she spends several moments just staring ahead moodily despite the bright sun, before turning back toward you. Surprised that you're still there, she sighs again, before offering a hand and a wry grin. "Hello. My name is Yelena Klementia. Sorry about the noise earlier."

With the silence broken, you offer a smile in return as you shake her hand. "Alexandra Polinski. Like I said, it wasn't really a bother, I was just… worried, I guess. Sounded kind of harsh back there."

She looks away uncomfortably. "I suppose. My aunt's bark is worse than her branches, but it is still unpleasant to quarrel with her so. I just… overstepped my bounds."

"Wait, that was your aunt?" You blink in surprise, but what you'd heard does make a little more sense now. "I'm sorry it didn't go well."

Yelena shrugs and rubs at her eyes a bit again. "It's not a big deal. The fault was mine; she has a difficult enough time being taken seriously as it is, so family members suddenly bursting in won't exactly do her much favor in that regard."

"Do you get to see her often?" You find yourself asking. Yelena shakes her head.

"I live in Krasnaya, but her duties force her to remain down here. We occasionally get to meet up and speak, but little more than that. She and my parents… don't see eye to eye on many matters, my upbringing being chief among them." She pauses a moment and adds "If I could, I would rather follow in her footsteps than theirs, but there's never time for her to even begin to teach me, and now that I'm going westward, she may not even want to." An edge of frustration creeps into her voice at that, but she shakes her head. "Sorry, I shouldn't whine about this."

"Going westward?" You ask, though you already suspect the answer.

"Indeed. I've enlisted in the Defense Corps, as a third option." She gives another sardonic grin, and adds, "Now nobody is happy with me."

Hesitantly, you reach out and pat her on the shoulder. "Sorry to hear that. Though, that's where I'm headed, too."

She blinks and turns to you in surprise. "Really?" She glances down at the forgotten deck of cards still in her hand, turning it over a couple of times. "What do you suppose the odds of that are? I hope it will be a pleasure to work with you."

You grin and nod in return. "Why don't we go back together?" Checking the time, you find you have fifteen minutes left before boarding begins again. "And we may as well head there now."

The two of you walk back to the station in silence, but it's a more comfortable sort now. Yelena seems interesting, at any rate, and in contrast to her earlier apathetic stance, she glances about at the crowds and buildings with a reserved but content smile. Once you get to the station, after weaving through the crowds inside, It doesn't take long to board again. The westbound train is considerably shorter with only three cars, and according to your travel information, the small caboose is reserved for you and the other four Advanced Service recruits.

Stepping aboard, the two of you find someone already present; a tiny girl sitting in the far corner, all but drowning in a massive navy-blue peacoat, with sleek black leggings and pointy shoes barely visible under the bottom edge. Her hair is a glossy black that cascades down her back, with blunt-cut bangs and sidelocks that frame a pale face. She glances over only briefly as you and Yelena enter, scanning you both before going back to staring out the window, but crosses her arms as well, the massive sleeves that extend easily a foot past where her hands must be hanging down to hide her form. All in all, she doesn't strike you as being terribly friendly, and the impression is only reinforced when she takes a massive suitcase off the overhead shelf and places it in the seat beside her. Wonderful.

You hear shouting from behind you, and only have a second to dodge aside before another girl blasts in like a cannonball, fleeing the hostile words from the platform. Taking a seat with a sigh of relief, she blinks at you and Yelena, only just noticing your presence. She's rather… bouncy, in several senses of the word. Round-faced and friendly, she's got a rather unruly mop of carrot-orange hair; two tufts poke up in a way that almost makes you think of cat ears. She's got a long-sleeved white top that hangs just past her rather excessive bust, with a lace-lined undershirt of chaotic zebra-like black-and-white striping to cover her slightly chubby midsection, and a garishly bright orange ruffled skirt that outdoes yours in brevity. Between that and the boots that go just below her knee, you see thick, muscular thighs to support her wide hips, and which match with her equally strong-looking biceps. Her skin is a tan shade, just a little lighter than your own, though you're not sure if it's natural or from exposure to the sun. And she definitely seems more inviting than the small girl, the initial panic from her arrival turning into a wide and welcoming grin as she sees you two.

Before she can say anything, though, the fifth and final of your number stalks aboard, shooting the ginger a resentful glare before noticing you as well, and instantly schools her face into a more neutral expression. "Ah, hello, there." She's got a simple tan button-up blouse with a knee-length flannel skirt and an overly long tie in dark green. Her hair, in contrast, is a pale shade of yellowish-green like an apple, and is parted and pulled back into two long ponytails at the nape of her neck. She's also a bit tanned, with a freckly face, and her stature is tall and stick-like, clearly still growing out of her teenage proportions. Despite her anger just a moment ago, she seems fine now, offering an affiable smile as she passes by to take a seat.

You realize you and Yelena still haven't taken a seat, and you glance around; the way the other three are situated, and with the smaller size of the caboose, there's nowhere to sit that won't place you near one of them.

Who do you want to sit by?
> The Quiet Girl She may not welcome your presence, but at least you won't be choosing sides between the other two.
> The Bubbly Girl She seems really friendly, and as fit and prepared for this as you are. Why not join her?
> The Skinny Girl She seems to share your taste in fashion and bears you no ill-will, so she could be fun to talk with.

Finally here! Things got delayed because I was waffling over the ending, but I think I found a somewhat better way of handling it, even if it did wind up a little bit too similar to the original run in some ways. Well, next update will cover the train ride in its entirety this time, so who you choose does matter significantly more. (Again, what was past me thinking?) Anyway, I hope this was a bit more informative without getting too boring...

ColdGoldLazarus · Oct 26, 2018

You decide to play it safe - whatever the ginger and the green-haired girl have going on between them, you're reluctant to get involved with, especially without knowing the context. You'd jumped in to taking sides on a disagreement once before, and the incident had lost you a few friendships. With that in mind, joining either of these two at the moment seems like it could alienate the other.

So instead you make your way to the back end of the caboose, glancing about. The cabin is mainly paneled in wood, a deep black-brown shade that lends everything an air of class, and there are six rows of benches on either side of the main aisle with brass bars overhead to serve as luggage racks. The greenette is in the second row to the left, the ginger is in the fourth row on the right, and the raven-haired girl is on the left again in the back row; after a moments' hesitation, you sit down across the aisle from her. She shoots you a glare as you sit down, but doesn't say anything, turning back to look at the smoky platform out the window. For her part, Yelena glances about uncertainly, before following to take the seat in front of you and behind the ginger. Somehow, the arrangement gives you the amusing mental image of an eclipse.

It doesn't take long to get situated, pulling out a book before slinging your suitcase up onto the rack, and sinking down into the luxuriously soft seat cushions. While the train ride this morning hadn't been bad by any means, there is a very clear difference with this one, and you get the feeling they rolled this one out specifically for you five. It's both gratifying and a little embarrassing to realize, and you try not to think about it too much. Besides, the cushions feel so relaxing… The book falls out of your hand as your eyelids begin to droop...

When you open your eyes again, the train is rumbling along the tracks, and you look out the window to see bright grassy fields; you've left the city behind already. Stretching with a big yawn, you rub grit from your eyes and glance about lazily, lingering grogginess from your catnap making you take a bit longer than usual to process. Fortunately, there's not too much going on with the others. The green-haired girl at the other end is just watching the scenery with a contented smile, while the ginger has taken a page from your book and similarly collapsed against the window, her snores somehow soft and cute while being distinctly audible, even from your position.

Yelena has her head hunched down; sitting up just enough to peer over the back of the bench, you see she's got her deck of cards spread out across her lap, counting and sorting them. You tilt your head to the side as you watch; unlike any cards you've seen before, hers all seem to have strange and mildly creepy illustrations on them, mostly in black and white but with splashes of red to highlight certain elements. You wish you could tell what she was thinking, but facing away from you as she is, there's no way to see her expression without giving yourself away. Besides, it feels like you've done enough peeping as it is, and so you turn your attention to the quiet girl.

You have to blink and rub your eyes on seeing her, because it's like a completely different person has taken her place. Her posture is completely relaxed, big coat hanging open to reveal a prim white dress shirt and a blue skirt, (and she seems even smaller now than you realized) but the far more alarming shift is in her expression. Looking down at a book laying across her lap, she's got a big, happy smile, eyes twinkling in amusement as she reads. What dark sorcery is this, that she suddenly looks kind of cute?

Acting on impulse, you stand up and step across the aisle, plopping yourself down on the edge of the bench without disturbing the girl's luggage. "What are you reading?" you ask. She jumps a bit in surprise, startled out of her reverie. After taking a moment to compose herself, she turns to you with the sullen glare from earlier, and you find yourself second-guessing the decision.

"What do you want?" She mutters more than asks, crossing her arms in a way that reminds you of Sophia.

"I, uh… I was just wondering what you were reading." You reach across the aisle and pick up your copy of War Of The Worlds from where you'd left it, showing off the cover and offering a shaky smile.

The smaller girl stares judgingly at you for several long moments before finally letting out a soft sigh. She doesn't smile, exactly, but her expression feels at least a little less hostile, and using her thumb to keep her place, closes up her own book to show you. "The Invisible Man. Same author, written earlier. Rather interesting thus far."

"What's it about?" You ask, then instantly wince. The girl doesn't bother to justify that with a response, just giving you a deadpan glare. "Okay, yeah, nevermind that. I haven't read that one, but I did read The Time Machine a while back."

"Mmm," she says, "I liked that one. Intriguing concept, and a word of caution. A little pessimistic for my tastes, but insightful all the same."

"I just liked the idea of being able to see the future," you admit. "Though it left me feeling a little lonely."

She nods, looking away. "Well, when you finish that one," she gestures vaguely at your book, "May I borrow it? I've put off reading it, but since I'm here now, I may as well give in."

Holding back a grin, you smile and nod. "Certainly!" After a brief pause, you hold out your hand to shake. "I forgot to introduce myself. My name's Alexandra Polinski. You?"

She once again stares at you for several long moments with an unreadable expression, and you wonder if you went too far. But finally, she extends her own hand to shake, looking uncertain if anything. "Hatice Volkov. And thank you, in advance."

"It's nice to meet you," you say, grinning now.

"Likewise. Now, please let me read." She opens the book again, giving you the cold shoulder, but you return to your seat feeling a little better. It seems she's not so bad under the surface; maybe you can work alongside her after all. And honestly, it's nice that she likes fiction novels too; despite her general attitude reminding you a lot of Sophia, your friend could sometimes be a bit of a snob about those sort of things, preferring nonfiction and grounded historical accounts over the speculative and fantastical. You're not entirely sure Hatice would think well of things on the level of the Symphonic Gears series, but it's still a distinct improvement.

Up ahead, Yelena has finished whatever she was doing, having bundled the cards neatly back together, and is in the process of slipping them into a drawstring pouch when you return. "You're awake again, I see," She says, glancing back at you with a soft smile. "You slept through most of the trip; I think we're supposed to arrive soon."

"Ah, thanks!" Settling in again, you fight the lingering urge to close your eyes just a little longer. Your grumbling stomach, thankfully, provides an effective distraction, reminding you that you forgot to grab lunch earlier. Better late than never, right? You open one of the bigger pockets in your jacket, pulling out a flat beige tin and opening up the top. Within is a rolled-up waxpaper bag, and you unfold it to grab a piece of jerky. If there's time, you should probably get something more substantial when you arrive in town, but this should hold you over until then.

Yelena's looking over her shoulder again, and after chomping down on your piece, (and nearly coughing from the overpowering salty taste) you hold the tin up to her. "Mffamf shumph?" You offer; she raises an eyebrow at your manners, but gingerly takes a strip for herself.

True to her prediction, it doesn't take much longer for the town to suddenly come into view, the train pulling up to a platform before you can catch more than a glimpse. A loud burst of steam from outside sends the orange-haired girl bolting upright from her nap, and soon enough you're all pulling your bags down and getting ready to exit. (You realize you never did get any reading done, as you put War Of The Worlds back in your suitcase. Ah well.)

Once the conductor comes by to unlock the door, you begin filing out; up ahead, the ginger and the greenette roughly bump shoulders as the latter pushes past. You exchange bemused glances with Yelena, and distracted by that, it isn't until you're nearly off the train that you realize Hatice is still in her seat. "Go on ahead, I'll be out in a moment," you assure your companion, before making your way back again. "Aren't you coming?"

"Dun' wanna," Hatice mutters, probably more audibly than she intended, before sighing reluctantly. "Yeah, just give me a moment."

"Do you... not want to be here?" You ask, tilting your head in confusion. Given all the effort you spent the last for years putting in to making sure you'd be ready for this, the idea of feeling less than enthusiastic about this feels alien to you.

"Not particularly, no," Hatice confirms, but doesn't elaborate any further as she focuses on buttoning up her jacket again and pushing her bulky suitcase out of the way. You lead the way to the exit, and from the dim confines emerge blinking into the bright sunlight of the early afternoon.

Aside from a couple of other people, the place is all but deserted. The ginger has vanished into the train station itself, while Yelena's looking over a map nearby. The skinny girl's standing at the end of the platform, gazing out at the grassy green hills. Emerging from behind you, Hatice glares in the general direction of the sun as if it personally insulted her, and stalks over to a shaded bench under the station's awning. The place overall reminds you of the station back in Skvarsava, but on a much smaller scale.

Stepping over to Yelena, you pull out your own travel directions again to compare notes. "It says we're supposed to meet with someone at the 'memorial gate' in an hour. Do you know where that is?"

"Right here," she answers, pointing out a spot on the map. Looking it over, you realize how truly tiny New Cauterets really is; three roads running east-west intersect with four running north-south, giving the place a roughly oval shape. The spot she's pointing at is on the opposite end of the Main Street from the train station, right up against a wall dividing the town and fields from the area designated as the front - the wall marking the point the invaders are not to be allowed to pass. "We have plenty of time to get over there."

"I'm still kind of hungry, honestly," you admit. "Are there any places we could stop by for lunch?"

Yelena frowns at the map, but before she can say anything, another hand reaches in to point at a specific building. "I think this is Charlotte's Pie Shop. She has all sorts of good stuff, though!" Startled, you look up to see the curvy ginger girl has returned, having snuck up on surprisingly light feet.

"Actually," another voice interjects, and you see the greenette approaching as well. "I'm going to be stopping by my house here in town, and you're welcome to come with; I'm sure my parents would be willing to put something together for you." She offers a hand to shake. "My name is Elaine Luciole. Pleasure to meet you."

As you hesitantly accept, the ginger quickly jumps in too, grabbing your other arm. "And I'm Lynx, Lynx Desjardins!" Stuck between the two, you glance helplessly over at Yelena, who's hiding an amused grin behind her map, even as she takes slow steps backwards to remove herself from the scene. They finally do let go after a moment, but both are still giving you expectant looks.

Even Lunch Has Turned Against You
> The Pie Shop It feels less weird to go to a public location, and something sweet wouldn't go amiss...
-> But invite Elaine as well
> The Luciole House Homemade cooking, even if from strangers, sounds very inviting...
-> But invite Lynx as well
> Neither You don't want to choose either over the other, so you'll just head straight to the meeting spot. You can survive on more jerky, right...?

ColdGoldLazarus · Dec 17, 2018

After thinking it over for a few moments, you decide you're not entirely comfortable entering the home of someone you barely know, even with an invitation. Still, you don't want to turn Elaine down entirely, either… "Thank you, but I don't want to intrude," you finally settle on. Lynx grins sheepishly, while Elaine glances aside to hide her frown. "Do you want to come with us to the shop, at least?"

Elaine sighs, still looking a bit disgruntled, but nods acceptance. "I do need to stop by my place, but it shouldn't take too long. I would be happy to join you after that."

"Alright, that sounds good!" You grin, "We'll meet you there, then!"

Elaine nods, and picking up her luggage again, heads for the doors. "I'll go now, then, so I can get there in time." With a last unreadable glance toward Lynx, she leaves the platform.

You glance around at the others to gauge their reactions; Lynx has a strange mix of relief and concern as she watches the greenette go, while Yelena is more focused on the map again, though she glances up to make sure you're alright. Hatice is oblivious to the whole matter, still slumped on the bench and looking vaguely resentful about nothing in particular.

"Well, should we go?" You finally suggest. "Since you know where the shop is, please lead the way!"

"Huh? Oh, right!" Lynx says, snapping back to her cheerful attitude. "Follow me!" You and Yelena do so easily, and after a moment of reluctant waffling, Hatice falls into the tail end of your procession as well.

With the ginger in the lead, the four of you quickly make your way through the station and out onto a brightly-sunlit main street. The blocks are longer than the map made them appear, but even so the trip is incredibly brief, and everything you see serves to reinforce how rural the place is. There's a handful of motor vehicles present, but they're distinctly different from the long, lower-slung luxury automobiles of Barrasson. These are workhorses through and through, with high carriages and low flatbeds behind the cabins, loaded down with hay bales, caged chickens, toolboxes, and much more. As you cross the first intersection, you glance over and see someone leading a cow, a real-life cow (You've never seen one before!) down the side street. Meanwhile, none of the buildings rise past two stories tall, with the sole exceptions of a clocktower near the middle of town, and what you assume is town hall not too far from that. The storefronts on the main road here somewhat remind you of the ones back home, but of course there's a greater emphasis on farming equipment and supplies over maritime tools and the like. Despite the smaller size, it's bustling and thriving far more than you've ever seen in Skvarsava, and you suppress a vague sensation of envy.

On the far end of the road, an actually rather respectable distance away due to the size of the blocks, you can see a moderately-sized tan wall looming just over the roofs of the furthest houses, the sky beyond browner and hazier than the healthy blues you see in every other direction. However, Lynx stops you before you can make out any further details; "Here we are!"

Charlotte's Pie Shop is a modest and unassuming establishment sandwiched in between a pair of bigger stores, but it is clearly the most popular of the three, not quite packed but certainly very close as the four of you pile in. The decorations are comfortable and homely, with a motley collection of wooden tables, no two the same shape or size, laid out so there's barely any room for the chairs between them. The ceiling lights are all off, letting the shine from the huge front windows illuminate the place instead; as a consequence, the back corners are dusty and dim in comparison to the front end.

You press closer behind Lynx as she winds through the maze of furniture on her way to the counter, and Yelena and Hatice similarly follow suit; and it's only now that you finally notice the ginger's behavior. In contrast to earlier, she seems strangely twitchy now; flinching if she brushes too close to someone, and avoiding all eye contact with a strange expression. When she glances back to make sure you're keeping up she seems normal, offering a charismatic wink and a smile, but with everyone else, that doesn't seem to be the case. She seemed to be acting similar during the walk outside as well, but you hadn't really been paying attention as you took in the scenery; now, though, it's glaringly obvious. You look closer at some of the people she passes to see if they're the cause, but they appear as confused as yourself, if they even so much as notice her behavior at all. Odd.

Soon you make it to the counter, and you're distracted by the display of various succulent-looking pastries and tarts locked behind the glass. There are a couple of people in line ahead of you, so you're left to drool helplessly at the collection for several long, torment-filled minutes. This has to count as some sort of cruelty, you think. Alexandras have the right not to suffer cruel and unusual punishments like this, right? Your stomach grumbles further, driving the point home. God you're hungry, and the flaky crusts, fresh-gleaming fillings, and enchanting smell aren't helping in the slightest.

Thankfully, the torment is brought to an end as the line shuffles forward, and an older, yet surprisingly sprightly woman steps up behind the counter. "Why hello, girls!" She greets, her deep-set laugh lines crinkling as she gives you a wide smile. "I take it you're the new recruits?"

"How did you know?" You ask without thinking, grinning slightly despite yourself.

"It's around that time of year, and you don't look like any of my regulars," she explains gracefully. "Though…" she tilts her head, looking at Lynx as if trying to dissect a puzzle. "You do look a bit familiar. Have you perhaps visited here before?"

Lynx chuckles nervously, offering a big fake grin. "I have never been to New Cauterets," she says, sounding truthful but still with a strange inflection that you're not quite sure how to read. "Anyway, why don't we order? Can't wait to have your delicious pies."

The lady rolls her eyes at the obvious deflection, but doesn't inquire any further. "Well, in that case, I won't keep you any longer. What can I get for you all?"

Despite the tempting sweets on display, you opt instead for a couple of slices of beef pie, as a proper meal. The four of you take seats around a round table near the front windows, with room for a fifth. At first it's fairly quiet; you're more focused on demolishing your meal than anything else (though halfway through the second slice you find yourself regretting not having savored it more; it's amazing) while Hatice digs into a blueberry tart with surprising zeal and Yelena nibbles at a frosted scone. Lynx, however, absently picks her food apart with a fork, still keeping her head down. "Maybe this was a bad idea," she mutters to herself.

"Is something wrong?" You ask. Yelena nods in agreement, looking relieved you were the one to speak first.

Lynx hesitates, actually taking her first proper bite as a delaying tactic, only to moan happily and start eating the rest as well. Once it's gone she seems to be feeling at least a little bit better; still avoiding looking at anyone else around, but at least able to meet eyes with you again. "It's… complicated," she says, biting her lip. "I'm here as a recruit from Diphaci. That's where I've lived for the past few years. But… not always. My family and I used to be from Cauterets, until the invasion. We moved to Diphaci after getting away, but when a lot of people moved back here more recently… we didn't."

Oh, right. You'd seen something in the newspapers about that, hadn't you? Slight tensions between those who returned to found New Cauterets, and those who had chosen to stay wherever they'd scattered to rather than go back to being in harm's way.

"I see," Yelena comments as well. "So that woman…"

"Charlotte, yeah," Lynx confirms. "I used to visit here a lot back when I lived in old Cauterets. When I saw she'd relocated here, I wanted to come visit, but at the same time… It's probably best she didn't recognize me." Her tone is as forlorn as it is relieved, though.

"I don't know about that," you suggest. "I mean, nobody here has actually said anything, right? You're probably perfectly fine."

"Plus," Yelena chips in, "Even if your family understandably chose to stay away, aren't you coming back to fight? If anyone wanted to make a judgement on your character or courage, they'd have no grounds to do so."

Lynx gives a shrug and a weak grin. "I suppose so." Despite her noncommittal answer, she does cheer up a bit, glancing around at the other patrons to find none of them paying her any mind, and giving you all a grateful smile. Even Hatice, who seemed not to be listening, cracks a slight grin.

And then Elaine sets down her plate with a loud plink, pulling out the last chair to join you.

"Hello again," she says, giving a reserved but genuine smile to most of you, but her gaze turning more coldly cordial toward Lynx. She quickly turns back to you and Yelena, though, inclining her head slightly. "Here I am now. What were we talking about?"

How To Respond?
> Answer Honestly Mention the discussion of Lynx's origins and see what Elaine has to say on the matter.
> Change The Subject We were just talking about… something or other. Yelena, what were we talking about?
-> What Was It? (Write-in/Other)
> Don't Answer You're not sure what to do here, so maybe you'll just say hi back, and leave it at that.

ColdGoldLazarus · Apr 18, 2019

Oh crap. Your mind races as you glance between the just-arrived greenette and the ginger she's pointedly ignoring. How should you respond? Your first instinct is to be truthful; it's better to be honest after all, right? Plus, on kind of a selfish level, you're curious, and want to know what Elaine's take on the matter would be. Given they obviously know each other, she might be able to offer some extra insight… Or she might just be snippy and accuse Lynx of being a coward or whatever, right after you'd all convinced her otherwise. Besides, Lynx told you this in confidence; while you're not exactly the most tactful individual, even you can tell it would be incredibly rude to betray her trust like this. No, in this case, a policy of truth isn't necessarily the best way forward. With that decided, you let yourself relax, time seeming to resume like normal, as Elaine gives you an expectant look.

And it's only then that you realize you have no clue what to say instead.

"Well, we uh, we were just talking about..." You begin, as you cast about wildly for inspiration. "Something or other." Your eyes fall on Yelena, watching you flail with a mixture of bemusement and horror, and you seize on like a drowning woman. "Hey, Yelena, what were we talking about again?"

She freezes up, but quickly manages to put on a calm face before Elaine can notice. "Oh, we were just talking about all this delicious food." Glancing at the pumpkin pie on Elaine's plate with a touch of greed, she pulls off a corner of her scone and offers it. "Alexandra here has been making us trade bits of our pastries with each other, since she wanted to try as many flavors as possible." You give her a confused look, and she just subtly shrugs in response.

Elaine just raises an eyebrow, but dutifully uses her fork to divide up the tip of her pie slice. You find yourself appreciating your piece, a brief tease of sweetness in exchange for an equal grounding in tender savory for her. Yelena grins in victory as she receives her share, while Hatice seems much more reluctant to trade. Lynx, having already eaten her food, looks uncertain of what to do, but shrinks in on herself in embarrassed surprise when Elaine gives her a section anyway. For her part, the greenette simply wears a dispassionate expression and quickly gets back to her own food without comment.

With that done, you all settle back into an uncertain silence as you finish up eating. Lynx remains fairly cheerful despite Elaine's presence, but still subdued, keeping her head down. Hatice is back to ignoring everyone, while you and Yelena stare at each other awkwardly, you feeling as uncertain as she appears on whether or not to speak up again. At least the background chatter from everyone else means it's not as bad as it could be…

Thankfully, neither of you have to do anything as the older woman from earlier, Charlotte, comes by to collect your plates. "Oh, Elaine, dear!" she remarks, "So you're heading out there after all?" She seems honestly thrown off-balance by seeing her sitting with the rest of you. "I'm surprised your parents agreed to this."

Elaine simply nods, mouth slanted. "They aren't eager, but Lou talked to them." She grins a bit, shaking her head. "Well, maybe a little more than that. I thought mother would make her sleep out in the barn afterward!"

Charlotte chuckles, crossing her arms. "You really have a wonderful sister, and I hope you appreciate that. The way you two used to fight, I never thought I'd see this day."

Elaine smiles briefly, "Well, things do change, sometimes for the better." She abruptly casts an uncomfortable glance at the rest of you, and you pretend not to have been listening. "Anyway, we should probably get going soon…"

"Oh, I see how it is," Charlotte teases, winking at you. "Don't want auntie Charlotte to embarrass you in front of your new friends, huh? Fine, I'll leave you alone in a moment. Just wanted to ask if your trip to the city was successful?"

"Yep, got the dress ordered," Elaine confirmed, before casting another sideways glance. "And, uh… other supplies, procured just fine."

Charlotte nods with a maternal smile. "Alright, that's good to hear. I'm sure Louise will send you the date, but if you want me to do the same, I would be more than willing to. She's a wonderful girl, but she isn't necessarily the most reliable in that regard…"

"Ah, that's a fair point." the greenette chuckles, "Certainly couldn't hurt, so yes please. I wouldn't miss it for anything."

Charlotte laughs out loud, slapping her on the back before finally gathering up your plates. "You'd better not! Not even if there's another attack happening, god forbid." Sighing fondly, she adds in a calmer voice, "It really is wonderful to see how close you've grown. You be careful out there, got it? If you die, Louise will most certainly kill you, and I would be right in line behind her." Turning to you, she adds, "Anyway, don't mind this old woman anymore, I'll hand her back over to you four." Elaine just rolls her eyes as the baker takes her leave.

"Was she really your aunt?" You blurt out, and Yelena and Lynx both giggle, even Hatice poorly disguising a grin of amusement.

Elaine sighs in exasperation, watching Charlotte's greying pixie cut as it retreats among the other patrons. "Not actually, though she may as well be. Close friend of the family, that sort of thing. Anyway," She seems decidedly eager to change the topic, "It really is getting close to the meeting time, so let's gather our things and go."

You all do exactly that, piling out of the shop with luggage in tow, and heading down the road again toward the wall you saw earlier. With the lunch hour having passed there are fewer people around, and the rest of the walk goes much faster. As a result, it's not long before you arrive at the wall, and your destination.

Up close, it seems a bit taller than you expected at three full stories, while a wide archway tunnel leading through lets you see that it's actually quite thick, bright sunlight from the other end shining through a surprising stretch of darkness. Meanwhile, a pathway leads from the end of the street to the entrance, looping around a huge block of polished granite along the way. Presumably, this is the memorial part of the 'memorial gate' that got mentioned earlier. It's six-sided, about twice your height, and each side slants slightly inward, leaving the top tapered considerably compared to the base. Curiously, you step in closer, touching the cold polished rock and reading some of the names inscribed on the side. Viktor Kravets - Lucien Aurand - Ejder Yilmaz, and many many more.

"Alright, this is the spot," Elaine says, casually leaning against one of the other faces and interrupting your reverie. "Shouldn't be long before Victoria shows up…"

"Wait, you know who we're meeting?" You ask in surprise. You're pretty sure you were never told who to expect.

"I live here, remember," she says. "I watched the recruits head out last year, so I kind of know what to expect." Ah, that makes sense.

Nodding awkwardly, you take a seat on one of the benches facing the memorial, under the skinny branches of a young tree, and Yelena joins you. Lynx remains standing, watching the tunnel entrance expectantly, while Hatice crouches down on the far side of the slab, scanning names while trying and failing to look nonchalant. "They did this on purpose," she mutters, but sounds more weary than bitter.

"Hmm?" Elaine blinks, before looking over at the stone as if seeing it for the first time. "Right. A reminder of what we're fighting for and have already lost, and all that. I suppose I'm just used to it by now." She frowns at that, but shrugs it off.

Taking a second look from your new vantage point lets you see the big picture, and you notice each face has been divided into three parts. A narrow section near the top has only a handful of names, while a bigger section at the bottom contains several rows, but the biggest list by far takes up the middle. You also notice that while the top and bottom sections are fairly mixed, the middle portion is almost entirely filled with male names. It isn't hard to guess what this means, but you ask aloud anyway. "What's with the division here?"

Elaine tilts her head, frowning at you, then shrugs and nods, pointing at the bottom. "This was when Cauterets fell in '36," She then gestures at the middle section. "This was trying to hold them back from Barrason," And the ends with a simple nod at the top, "And that was when the line was broken again in '38."

You nod in understanding, looking back to that top row. Thinking back to the encounter on the beach, you shiver a bit at realizing just how easily you could have wound up among the names there…

"HELLOOO~, everyone!" Your existential mood is abruptly interrupted by a loud and cheery voice echoing down the tunnel entrance, and you give a startled jolt. A woman emerges from the entrance, flashing a bold smirk and clapping her hands together loudly as she looks over your group. You recognize her easily; out of the original pilots, Victoria Conley is the only one who's let her appearance remain public knowledge… though the monochrome newspaper photos you've seen all failed to do any sort of justice to her raw vibrance, you now realize. Her greenish-blue eyes seem to shine brightly all on their own, and her short mop of hair, transitioning naturally from red to orange and defying gravity to stick out in all directions, resembles a bonfire more than anything, illuminated by the bright sun overhead.

Adding to her loud presence is her rather… minimalistic… fashion sense. As much as you consider your own ensemble to be a bit daring, you're not entirely sure how she gets away with hers; you know your mother's made some disapproving comments sometimes when reading the newspaper. This time, she's got a sleeveless tailcoat and leather knee-high boots in a maroon shade somewhat brighter than yours, the coat hanging wide open to show off the black tank-top and terrifyingly short… shorts beneath. Her top leaves little to the imagination, somehow pulling an impressive amount of cleavage from even her small bust, while also cut high to show off her defined abs; meanwhile, the shorts are black denim, with dangling white threads and uneven hems that make you suspect they used to be longer. All the exposed skin simply serves to show off her tanned and athletic figure, with muscular runner's thighs and biceps that leave you feeling a bit faint, for some reason. You try to avert your gaze, but that proves to be a struggle.

And just as striking as all of that, though, is the way she moves - constantly. Hopping from foot to foot, or fidgeting with the key ring in her hand, she seems physically incapable of standing still; it seems like she's been struck by lightning and has to find some way to burn up all the excess energy. That, plus the way her freckles crinkle up from a charismatic grin, you can't help but feel pulled in. Resisting that energy would be futile, you feel; your only option is to come along for her wild ride and do your best to keep up. It's easy to understand, now, how she wound up being the face of the defense corps.

You finally force yourself to look away, feeling like you're snapping back to reality as you do so. Shaking your head a bit to clear it, you stand up and hold out a hand for Yelena, which she gratefully accepts. "Alright, girls," Victoria is saying, pacing around the memorial to give each of you the once-over as she does so, "You're the Advanced Service recruits, hmm? Welcome to the front! I'm sure I don't need to introduce myself, but I'd like your names, of course. Want to make sure I have the right people, after all!" She chuckles at her own joke, but before anyone can speak, she continues on, waving you toward the tunnel. "Come on now, this way!" You all exchange bewildered glances, before gathering your things and following her merrily retreating back. Hatice in particular looks distinctly unimpressed, raising a dubious eyebrow toward the redhead, while Elaine is the most relaxed, and you realize she's probably seen this before. Victoria's whistling now, the slightly off-key tones echoing weirdly through the dark space, and for you personally? In contrast to your excitement only moments ago, now you can't quite suppress a faint sensation of impending doom.

You're distracted from these thoughts as you reach the other end of the tunnel, however. Emerging out the other side, it feels like you've stepped into another world. While grass fields stretch out around you like on New Cauterets' side, the turf here is brown and unhealthy-looking, and you can spot pockmarks and craters beginning to interrupt the landscape not too far off from the wall. The sky is hazier, too, beginning subtly but growing denser and denser the further west you look, until it becomes an impenetrable wall of brown in the distance.

After letting you soak in the scene for a minute or so, Victoria claps her hands again, directing you all toward a vehicle parked nearby. While you're not a car expert, you think you recognize it as a... Studebaker? You know those were imported from overseas shortly before the barrier arrived, as your father had shown you one being offloaded after returning from what would wind up being his last proper trip. At any rate, while this one clearly falls more on the luxury end of the spectrum, with a convertible canopy (currently raised to protect the interior from all the dust in the air, you assume) and several rows of cushy seating, it also somehow seems more rugged than the cars you'd seen in the capital earlier. The wheels are wide and thick, raising the bottom high like the farmers' pickups in town, and with all the dust coating the outside, you quickly catch on to why it's being used out here.

Anyway. It doesn't take long to get seated, after some finangling with luggage; Victoria of course takes the wheel, with Elaine claiming the passenger-side front, while you and Yelena take the middle row, and Lynx and Hatice slip into the back. With a turn of the ignition, the engine roars to life, and you all set off across the dry landscape.

Said landscape quickly transitions from dying to outright barren, the craters growing bigger and more frequent until the grass is replaced entirely by coarse dirt, and the terrain becomes increasingly uneven. Victoria proves to be an expert navigator, weaving the car seamlessly through all of it; sometimes dipping into the shallow trenches as a road, sometimes skirting the edge of a crater and other times going directly down and across. Even as the haze presses in closer and closer, she seems familiar enough with the landscape to account for potential obstacles well before they fade into view.

Despite keeping her eyes firmly ahead, she still seems remarkably relaxed, only one hand on the wheel as she leans back in the driver's seat. "Sorry about the boring trip. Usually there's more to look at, but we haven't got much rain as of late, so the dust is a lot worse than usual." She's apparently oblivious to how the bumpy ride has left your knuckles turning white from clenching the door handle so hard, or to Yelena slumping woozily down in her seat. "Why don't you all tell me about yourselves," Victoria prompts, flashing a quick smile in the rearview mirror.

Hmm…
> Speak Up If she's listening to you instead of herself, she might just slow down a bit.
> Wait A Bit You'll introduce yourself, but you'd rather not be the first one to do so.
> Say Nothing You don't really want to talk to her; if anyone else does, that can be their problem.
> Something Else (Write-In/Other) You have something else on your mind, and now's as good a time as any to mention it.

Wanted to apologize (once again) for how long it took to get back to this. Hopefully next wait won't be so ridiculous; ideally at least within a month from now this time, right? XD Also wanted to thank my lovely editors for helping make this properly coherent, and helping me figure out some stuff regarding the direction I was struggling with. I'm really really grateful to you all. ^_^

Mystical Mechanistics Of Outrageous Fortune [Dieselpunk Mechagirl Yuri Quest] (Reboot)

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