This is probably a bad idea, but here's a concept I came up with several months back and found...
Mystical Mechanistics Of Outrageous Fortune [Mili-Moe Magical Mechagirl Yuri Quest]
- Thread starter ColdGoldLazarus
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Four Years Ago
ColdGoldLazarus
Contrary Quester, Spreadsheet Queen, Pink Flamingo
- Location
- Challenger Deep
- Pronouns
- She/Her
This is probably a bad idea, but here's a concept I came up with several months back and found myself thinking about again recently, and decided to actually do something with. I have a vague idea of where I want to go with this, but both out of incompetence and in the name of not railroading people, I'm mostly still making things up as I go. Updates will probably be a bit on the slow side due to other obligations, but I'll try to keep on top of this as much as possible. Hopefully this won't end in disaster, or at least if it does, I hope it's at least enjoyable until then. Without further ado, let's begin!
Mystical Mechanistics Of Outrageous Fortune
You were walking along the beach when the incident happened.
You'd strayed from the more populated parts, getting into where chunks of red rock began poking up from the sand and the terrain got rougher, and crabs took shelter among the crags. That made it harder for most people to sunbathe or play in the surf properly, so they tended to avoid this area, which suited you just fine, upset as you were at the time. Now you don't even remember what the argument had been about, but you were sure it was something pointless and inconsequential; that's how those things tended to be.
You'd found a piece of driftwood and picked it up, using it to poke into the deeper recesses of the rocks in the petty hope of ruining some crab's day, when quite suddenly a massive mechanical limb struck the sand just behind you and ruined your day. You did a strange startled half-leap, half-twist and fell on your rear, to behold a massive spider-like machine looming over you, all smooth black metal and glowing purple neon lines. Perhaps had you been in a position to think the situation over, you might wonder what one of these was doing so far south, but you were more concerned with finding your feet and running away as fast as possible, before the monster's underslung cannons found their next target in you.
It was your choice of location to vent that ultimately turned against you, as you tripped on a hidden shelf of rock under the sand and sprawled out, bashing a knee and an elbow on a nearby boulder in the process. The blind panic flooding your head drove you to get up and keep crawling, but it was clear now there was no point. The cannons lowered and turned and steadied, the white glow of compressed lightning building at the tip. A flash, a whining screech, and your own terrified scream, and it was over.
...Or so you'd thought, until you opened your eyes again. Standing over you was another machine, a tall and proud humanoid figure with bronze armor and a fearsome yet inspiring countenance. There was a deep gash in one leg, and you realized with a start that it 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 it was over - A single piercing blow left a gaping cavity through its midsection, 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.
The robot stood facing away from you for several moments, and you stayed on the ground, still trying to comprehend the terror of what had just happened. You'd almost died, hadn't you? It didn't feel real.
"Are you alright?" A kind voice spoke, and you looked up to meet eyes with a tall woman, bending over you to offer a helping hand and a warm smile.
"Uh… I've been better," you responded with a weak smile, bruised elbow twinging as you reached up to accept her help. "but thank you. You saved my life!"
She looked away shamefacedly. "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 you were standing again, she checked you over for more serious injuries, and pressed something into your hand. "Here, take this. As a token of apology. I have to go now; stay safe, okay?"
She climbed back into her frame and the mech reformed around it, hiding her from view. It blasted off, leaping back up onto the cliffs, and you were alone again, only the ruined frame nearby evidence of what had just occurred.
Clutching the gift tight to your chest, you found yourself running back to the main beach, where everyone was still splashing, sunbathing, and sandcastle building without a care in the world, not realizing how close the enemy got or how you were mere moments 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."
***
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. You read back through the letter, even though you've memorized it by now:
"Dear madam,
On behalf of the Mzendzyovka Defense Corp and Selective Service System, I would like to thank you for choosing to register for the non-mandatory draft, and I am 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 Is The Gift?
> A small grey ribbon, 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 gear hairclip, 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 bandanna tipped in fiery red and orange, 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 blue snowflake hairclip, 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 over your own short pinkish-orange locks, you glance back at the letter and wonder if they forgot to include your name. For all your other strengths, you are quite absentminded; your parents have joked that you'd forget your own name if they weren't around to remind you of it. Ah, how silly of them; you can remember it on your own, right?
...Right?
What Is Your Name?
> Write-In
Mystical Mechanistics Of Outrageous Fortune
You were walking along the beach when the incident happened.
You'd strayed from the more populated parts, getting into where chunks of red rock began poking up from the sand and the terrain got rougher, and crabs took shelter among the crags. That made it harder for most people to sunbathe or play in the surf properly, so they tended to avoid this area, which suited you just fine, upset as you were at the time. Now you don't even remember what the argument had been about, but you were sure it was something pointless and inconsequential; that's how those things tended to be.
You'd found a piece of driftwood and picked it up, using it to poke into the deeper recesses of the rocks in the petty hope of ruining some crab's day, when quite suddenly a massive mechanical limb struck the sand just behind you and ruined your day. You did a strange startled half-leap, half-twist and fell on your rear, to behold a massive spider-like machine looming over you, all smooth black metal and glowing purple neon lines. Perhaps had you been in a position to think the situation over, you might wonder what one of these was doing so far south, but you were more concerned with finding your feet and running away as fast as possible, before the monster's underslung cannons found their next target in you.
It was your choice of location to vent that ultimately turned against you, as you tripped on a hidden shelf of rock under the sand and sprawled out, bashing a knee and an elbow on a nearby boulder in the process. The blind panic flooding your head drove you to get up and keep crawling, but it was clear now there was no point. The cannons lowered and turned and steadied, the white glow of compressed lightning building at the tip. A flash, a whining screech, and your own terrified scream, and it was over.
...Or so you'd thought, until you opened your eyes again. Standing over you was another machine, a tall and proud humanoid figure with bronze armor and a fearsome yet inspiring countenance. There was a deep gash in one leg, and you realized with a start that it 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 it was over - A single piercing blow left a gaping cavity through its midsection, 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.
The robot stood facing away from you for several moments, and you stayed on the ground, still trying to comprehend the terror of what had just happened. You'd almost died, hadn't you? It didn't feel real.
"Are you alright?" A kind voice spoke, and you looked up to meet eyes with a tall woman, bending over you to offer a helping hand and a warm smile.
"Uh… I've been better," you responded with a weak smile, bruised elbow twinging as you reached up to accept her help. "but thank you. You saved my life!"
She looked away shamefacedly. "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 you were standing again, she checked you over for more serious injuries, and pressed something into your hand. "Here, take this. As a token of apology. I have to go now; stay safe, okay?"
She climbed back into her frame and the mech reformed around it, hiding her from view. It blasted off, leaping back up onto the cliffs, and you were alone again, only the ruined frame nearby evidence of what had just occurred.
Clutching the gift tight to your chest, you found yourself running back to the main beach, where everyone was still splashing, sunbathing, and sandcastle building without a care in the world, not realizing how close the enemy got or how you were mere moments 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."
***
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. You read back through the letter, even though you've memorized it by now:
"Dear madam,
On behalf of the Mzendzyovka Defense Corp and Selective Service System, I would like to thank you for choosing to register for the non-mandatory draft, and I am 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 Is The Gift?
> A small grey ribbon, 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 gear hairclip, 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 bandanna tipped in fiery red and orange, 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 blue snowflake hairclip, 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 over your own short pinkish-orange locks, you glance back at the letter and wonder if they forgot to include your name. For all your other strengths, you are quite absentminded; your parents have joked that you'd forget your own name if they weren't around to remind you of it. Ah, how silly of them; you can remember it on your own, right?
...Right?
What Is Your Name?
> Write-In
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The Girl In The Mirror
ColdGoldLazarus
Contrary Quester, Spreadsheet Queen, Pink Flamingo
- Location
- Challenger Deep
- Pronouns
- She/Her
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've put on what you hope is appropriate attire, and after adjusting the snowflake clip in your hair, you give yourself a last assessment in your vanity mirror.
What Are You Wearing?
> A pencil skirt and suit. You want them to know you're taking this seriously
> A casual dress and bolero. You want to look nice without going overboard
> A sporty top and shorts. You don't know if you're going to be put to work right away
> A 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 you're not exactly drowning in money
> Other/Write In
What is your hairstyle?
> That "Intentionally Messy" look. Just because you forgot to comb this morning, doesn't mean it looks bad
> Bob cut. Favored among tankery prodigies and isomorphic algorithms
> Short ponytail. Feminine yet efficient
> Twintails. Because everyone loves a cheap Madoka knockoff
> Braided dreadlocks. Sure, why not?
> Other/Write In
What Color Are Your Eyes?
> Amber/Yellow, the eyes of a predator ready to hunt
> Grey like a comfortable wool blanket on an overcast day
> Brown is the friendliest color
> Green/Teal that speaks of mystery and humor
> Blue (Light or Dark) to match the sea you grew up beside
> Pink so the curtains match the drapes
> Red to match the fire in your soul!
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. Just the way you like it
> Short. Plus five to cuteness, negative ten to any hopes of ever being taken seriously
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
> Pear. Not much going on up top, but you've got hips to be envied
> Spindly. You're still growing out of your awkward teenage proportions
Bust?
> Flat because you like to keep things closer to your heart
> Perky because you have an upright disposition
> Moderate because you're a healthy girl and growing well
> Cushy because... holy crap how did this happen?
I'm sorry
I feel like I'm forgetting something, but hopefully it's nothing too important.
What Are You Wearing?
> A pencil skirt and suit. You want them to know you're taking this seriously
> A casual dress and bolero. You want to look nice without going overboard
> A sporty top and shorts. You don't know if you're going to be put to work right away
> A 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 you're not exactly drowning in money
> Other/Write In
What is your hairstyle?
> That "Intentionally Messy" look. Just because you forgot to comb this morning, doesn't mean it looks bad
> Bob cut. Favored among tankery prodigies and isomorphic algorithms
> Short ponytail. Feminine yet efficient
> Twintails. Because everyone loves a cheap Madoka knockoff
> Braided dreadlocks. Sure, why not?
> Other/Write In
What Color Are Your Eyes?
> Amber/Yellow, the eyes of a predator ready to hunt
> Grey like a comfortable wool blanket on an overcast day
> Brown is the friendliest color
> Green/Teal that speaks of mystery and humor
> Blue (Light or Dark) to match the sea you grew up beside
> Pink so the curtains match the drapes
> Red to match the fire in your soul!
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. Just the way you like it
> Short. Plus five to cuteness, negative ten to any hopes of ever being taken seriously
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
> Pear. Not much going on up top, but you've got hips to be envied
> Spindly. You're still growing out of your awkward teenage proportions
> Flat because you like to keep things closer to your heart
> Perky because you have an upright disposition
> Moderate because you're a healthy girl and growing well
> Cushy because... holy crap how did this happen?
I feel like I'm forgetting something, but hopefully it's nothing too important.
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Character Sheet
ColdGoldLazarus
Contrary Quester, Spreadsheet Queen, Pink Flamingo
- Location
- Challenger Deep
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Forgot to do this earlier. Will add to it as we meet more people...
From Barasson
???
34 Years Old
Hair: Pink
Hairstyle: Short Braided
Eyes: Grey
Body: Feminine
Height: Tall
Outfit: Dress & Wide Hat
Bust: Medium
???
34 Years Old
Hair: Pink
Hairstyle: Short Braided
Eyes: Grey
Body: Feminine
Height: Tall
Outfit: Dress & Wide Hat
Bust: Medium
From Barasson
???
29 Years Old
Hair: Black
Hairstyle: Short Scruffy
Eyes: Brown
Body: Scrawny
Height: Medium
Outfit: Suit
???
29 Years Old
Hair: Black
Hairstyle: Short Scruffy
Eyes: Brown
Body: Scrawny
Height: Medium
Outfit: Suit
From Barasson
Kind but reclusive
24 Years Old
Kind but reclusive
24 Years Old
From Diphaci
Tough but fair
23 Years Old
Hair: Black
Hairstyle: Short Front-Swept
Eyes: Blue
Body: Slender
Height: Tall
Outfit: Vest and Button-Up Shirt, Pencil Skirt, Long Boots
Bust: Moderate
Tough but fair
23 Years Old
Hair: Black
Hairstyle: Short Front-Swept
Eyes: Blue
Body: Slender
Height: Tall
Outfit: Vest and Button-Up Shirt, Pencil Skirt, Long Boots
Bust: Moderate
From Skvarsava
Reckless and fun-loving
22 Years Old
Hair: Red
Hairstyle: Super-Messy
Eyes: Green
Body: Toned
Height: Tall
Outfit: Tank Top & Shorts under Tailcoat
Bust: Small
Reckless and fun-loving
22 Years Old
Hair: Red
Hairstyle: Super-Messy
Eyes: Green
Body: Toned
Height: Tall
Outfit: Tank Top & Shorts under Tailcoat
Bust: Small
From Krasnaya
Cold and harsh(?)
22 Years Old
Hair: White
Hairstyle: Hime cut
Eyes: Red
Body: Feminine
Height: Tall
Bust: Moderate
Cold and harsh(?)
22 Years Old
Hair: White
Hairstyle: Hime cut
Eyes: Red
Body: Feminine
Height: Tall
Bust: Moderate
From Krasnaya
Bureaucratic and devoted
22 Years Old
Hair: Red
Hairstyle: Medium Parted
Eyes: Green
Body: Feminine
Height: Tall
Outfit: Suit and Pencil Skirt
Bust: Moderate
Bureaucratic and devoted
22 Years Old
Hair: Red
Hairstyle: Medium Parted
Eyes: Green
Body: Feminine
Height: Tall
Outfit: Suit and Pencil Skirt
Bust: Moderate
From Diphaci
Meek but skillful
21 Years Old
Hair: Light Brown
Hairstyle: Medium Messy Braid
Eyes: Lime
Body: Feminine
Height: Medium
Outfit: Labcoat and Strapless Dress
Bust: Large
Meek but skillful
21 Years Old
Hair: Light Brown
Hairstyle: Medium Messy Braid
Eyes: Lime
Body: Feminine
Height: Medium
Outfit: Labcoat and Strapless Dress
Bust: Large
From Skvarsava
Dutiful but hypercritical
20 Years Old
Hair: Seafoam
Hairstyle: Twin Braids
Eyes: Seafoam
Body: Feminine
Height: Medium
Outfit: Cardigan and Dress, Long Boots
Bust: Perky
Dutiful but hypercritical
20 Years Old
Hair: Seafoam
Hairstyle: Twin Braids
Eyes: Seafoam
Body: Feminine
Height: Medium
Outfit: Cardigan and Dress, Long Boots
Bust: Perky
From New Cauterets
Easygoing and irreverent
20 Years Old
Hair: Light Green
Hairstyle: Ponytail
Eyes: Golden
Body: Spindly
Height: Medium
Outfit: Jacket over Shirt and Skirt
Bust: Medium
Easygoing and irreverent
20 Years Old
Hair: Light Green
Hairstyle: Ponytail
Eyes: Golden
Body: Spindly
Height: Medium
Outfit: Jacket over Shirt and Skirt
Bust: Medium
None yet...
From Skvarsava
Player Character
18 Years Old
Hair: Salmon
Hairstyle: Short Ponytail
Eyes: Red
Body: Toned
Height: Short
Outfit: Schoolgirl Uniform
Bust: Perky
Player Character
18 Years Old
Hair: Salmon
Hairstyle: Short Ponytail
Eyes: Red
Body: Toned
Height: Short
Outfit: Schoolgirl Uniform
Bust: Perky
From New Cauterets
Moderate but passive-aggressive
18 Years Old
Hair: Lime
Hairstyle: Low Twintails
Eyes: Brown
Body: Spindly
Height: Average
Outfit: Blouse and Flannel Skirt
Bust: Flat
Moderate but passive-aggressive
18 Years Old
Hair: Lime
Hairstyle: Low Twintails
Eyes: Brown
Body: Spindly
Height: Average
Outfit: Blouse and Flannel Skirt
Bust: Flat
From Barasson
Quiet but grumpy
18 Years Old
Hair: Black
Hairstyle: Hime Cut
Eyes: Purple
Body: Feminine
Height: Short
Outfit: Leggings and Shirt under Oversized Peacoat
Bust: Small
Quiet but grumpy
18 Years Old
Hair: Black
Hairstyle: Hime Cut
Eyes: Purple
Body: Feminine
Height: Short
Outfit: Leggings and Shirt under Oversized Peacoat
Bust: Small
From ???
Introverted and superstitious
18 Years Old
Hair: White
Hairstyle: Thick Bob Cut
Eyes: Dark Blue
Body: Feminine
Height: Short
Outfit: Long-sleeved wrap dress with ascot and stockings
Bust: Moderate
Introverted and superstitious
18 Years Old
Hair: White
Hairstyle: Thick Bob Cut
Eyes: Dark Blue
Body: Feminine
Height: Short
Outfit: Long-sleeved wrap dress with ascot and stockings
Bust: Moderate
From Diphaci
Energetic and cheerful
18 Years Old
Hair: Orange
Eyes: Light Blue
Hairstyle: Short & Messy
Body: Curvy
Height: Average
Outfit: Crop-top with undershirt, skirt with stockings
Bust: Cushy
Energetic and cheerful
18 Years Old
Hair: Orange
Eyes: Light Blue
Hairstyle: Short & Messy
Body: Curvy
Height: Average
Outfit: Crop-top with undershirt, skirt with stockings
Bust: Cushy
None yet...
Last edited:
Map, Contents, & Misc. Info
ColdGoldLazarus
Contrary Quester, Spreadsheet Queen, Pink Flamingo
- Location
- Challenger Deep
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Last update was posted at midnight. Updates may take longer than a day, especially once the week starts (and I'm still working on Waves of Change, so that will also slow things down) but I don't intend to go less than a day, meaning there's still a solid six hours left to vote on Alexandra's looks. Lurker input is more than welcome!
Last edited:
The Train Ride North
ColdGoldLazarus
Contrary Quester, Spreadsheet Queen, Pink Flamingo
- Location
- Challenger Deep
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Well, that was a pretty tight vote, on most of the fields. Definitely a different result than I was anticipating, but I like what we wound up with.
Time for the promised lore dump. Hopefully this is informative!
You nod, satisfied with your appearance. You initially considered twintails, but after thinking it over, you settled on wearing your bright salmon-colored hair in a short ponytail, leaving your bangs to frame your face and bright red eyes. You're a bit on the short side, but your small frame packs a punch, testament to the effort you've put into this for the past four years... Even if it's sometimes gotten you mistaken for a boy. And for better or for worse, you've wound up having to reuse your standard white and navy-collared school uniform, even if it's getting rather tight around your small but distinctly pointy chest. Your family is hardly dirt-poor, but neither are you really in a position to afford a more fancy outfit just for the occasion, and your parents reasoned that you'll probably be given an official uniform once you arrive, anyway.
Adjusting the hairclip one more time, you grab the small bag with your belongings and head out to breakfast, giving your room a final parting glance; uncertain how long it may be until the next time you see it. There's a certain sense of melancholy to the moment, but it's by far outweighed by your anticipation for what is to come.
***
Breakfast is a stilted affair. Your parents are clearly trying hard to be supportive and proud, but perhaps naturally, they're hesitant to send their only child off to a war zone. You can't help but remember a conversation over a newspaper you'd accidentally eavesdropped on one morning, shortly after the incident...
"They say the fifth one vanished. They found her mech, but it was empty."
"So... she's probably dead."
"Nobody knows either way, do they? What does anyone know about these monsters, really?"
"That they're hostile and out to kill us all."
"Isn't that the truth. I'm glad Lesya is safe."
"You can't think she was serious, right? If she actually met one of those things, there's no way she'd still be here now."
"I know she was frightened and crying when she came back to us, and she's been scary quiet ever since. I don't know if she's telling the truth entirely, but I do think that, whatever she experienced out on the beach, she believes that is the truth." It was frustrating, that they didn't trust you on such an important matter, but then they'd always treated you like someone four years younger.
"Oh, no."
"Honey, what's wrong?"
"It says they're preparing to institute a draft. 'Non-Mandatory'... isn't that an oxymoron?"
"Hmm. 'Each city is urged to recruit ten volunteers; girls of eighteen years or older, to serve in the Defense Corp. against our unknown attackers. Fear not for their safety, as the powered mechanical armor used by our defenders will be mass-produced, for a stronger and more effective army. We only ask for ten volunteers per city per year, but if there are deficiencies we will institute more compulsory recruitment measures to make up the difference.' Yeah, that's real nice."
"It's four years until Lesya turns eighteen. I pray the war is over before then."
You hope it is as well, on account of the lives already lost... but at the same time, you very much suspect it won't, and that suits you just fine as well. You have plans to make.
***
Things flow more easily once they've taken you to the train station; tearful farewells and hugs and promises to write every day. And then you're boarding, finding a window facing the platform so you can say goodbye once again, yes.
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. You even think you can see your house from here... 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 gawked at the view plenty when you traveled to the capital a few months back, so instead you settle in and root through your bag, pulling out a map. The map is of a valley, shaped like an off-kilter diamond; with one city, Barasson, in the very center and four arrayed around it in each of the cardinal directions. Krasnaya among the peaks to the north, Diphaci in the middle of the eastern forest, your own Skvarzava at the south end where it meets the ocean, and Cauterets to the west. You frown at the last one. Definitely an older map, though you wonder if it predates the barrier as well. You trace a finger in a rough oval around the edges of the valley and the small bit of sea at the bottom, approximately where you'd guess the invisible yet encompassing wall resides.
---
The valley land of Mzendzyovka started from humble means; a tent city built by hopelessly lost midieval refugees grew into a flourishing and self-sufficient tiny nation; benefitting from the greater world's advances while remaining safe from the nastier upheavals due to its insignificant size and sheltered location.
Then the barrier went up, and for fifteen years that self-sufficiency was put to the test as experts scratched their heads on why the valley was suddenly completely cut off from all outside contact. Just when people were starting to get used to the claustrophobic confines, the enemy appeared. Mzendzyovka's peaceful existence became a flaw as they struggled over several bloody months to hold back the tide, and just when the alien machines were on the capital's doorstep, hope arrived.
Reverse engineered from the wrecks of downed enemy robots, five mechanical power armor suits and their gifted pilots became symbols of hope, taking mere weeks to regain lost ground and holding the line against the admittedly weak attacks since. Until, at the end of the war's second year, a full army poured forth, headed by a massive and unfamiliar type of opponent. It took all five of the mechs to take it down, and while they were distracted, the rest of the army dispersed into the prairie, heading north and south and east to attack the three locations most distant from the war.
That was the day when you had been attacked. That was the day when one of those first five pilots, Anastasia, saved your life and only apologized for having done so. That was the day that led you to where you are now, on a train that was just pulling into the central station in Barasson.
---
It's a simple swap from the north-south line to the east-west, though the train headed to New Cauterets is considerably emptier. Four girls are already waiting in the car the conductor directs you to, each in opposite corners.
The first girl you lay eyes on is... bouncy, in several senses of the word. She has an unruly mop of carrot-orange hair over a round and grinning face, mischievous eyes darting back and forth between the other, unreceptive passengers. She's wearing a white long-sleeved top that only reaches just below her rather excessive bustline, with an undershirt of chaotic zebra-like black-and-white striping to cover her somewhat chubby midsection. Her thighhighs and garish orange miniskirt do absolutely nothing to conceal how thick her thighs are, or the width of the hips they support. Yet she also seems quite fit, with her muscular upper arms providing the most tangible proof of hard strength existing under the welcoming layer of pudge.
The second girl is seemingly her total opposite, a curled-up runt staring unblinkingly out the window. She's wearing tight black leggings and a massive navy-blue peacoat that she's all but drowing in, and while her hime-cut long black hair cascades glossily down her back, her disposition is most comparable to that of a corpse. She's got her slender legs hugged tight to her chest, while sleeves that extend at least a foot past where her hands must be hang down in front to obscure her form. What little of her skin you can see doesn't seem too terribly pale and her face isn't as gaunt as you'd expect, but she's still clearly closed herself off from her surroundings.
The third girl isn't as closed off, but still seems distinctly standoffish, sorting through a deck of cards in her lap with a disinterested look. Her thick bob cut is a snowy white that reminds you of your memories of Anastasia, and she wears a slim black wrap dress with a pale yellow ascot and frilly cuffs. She too is part of the stockings club, straight vertical black and white stripes that remind you strangely of a convict's outfit; the only real splash of color is a red vertical headband that separates her bangs from her sidelocks. And though you wonder how much of it is influenced by the dress's shaping, you find yourself somewhat envying her subtle but effective hourglass.
The final girl seems more your speed, wearing a simple tan button-up blouse with an overly-long green tie and knee-length flannel skirt. Her legs are perfectly bare, albeit quite stick-like and seem far longer compared to her body than they should be; she's clearly still growing out of her gangly teenage proportions, and has... no chest to speak of. Forcing yourself to look upward, you realize she's watching you with an expectant and friendly smile, one that induces a strange level of guilt in the back of your head. Her hair is a bright lime green, pulled back into a pair of long twintails at the nape of her neck.
Who Do You Sit Beside?
> The Bouncy Girl. She seems like the most outgoing of the bunch, and the conversation should be interesting.
> The Quiet Girl. She's not shown many signs of life, but you're really curious as to what could be going through her mind.
> The Card Girl. She seems a bit unfriendly now, but you're familiar with that saying about books and covers.
> The Gangly Girl. She strikes you as simple and straightforward, reliable and easy to talk with about nothing in particular.
> Address them all. Maybe you shouldn't sit down right away, but instead try to get a group conversation going.
> Go find your own corner. With the heady mix of emotions today's already filled you with, you're not sure you're up for a conversation.
Introductions!
>"My name is Alexandra"
->"but you can just call me Lesya."
>Let them introduce first.
What To Talk About?
> Ask what's on her mind. As sure an icebreaker as any.
> Ask what brings her here. Your train has a destination, after all.
> Ask where she's from. By the same token, she started out somewhere, right?
> Mention you're joining the MDC. You don't know that the same is true for her, but you may as well bring it up.
> Write-In
Time for the promised lore dump. Hopefully this is informative!
You nod, satisfied with your appearance. You initially considered twintails, but after thinking it over, you settled on wearing your bright salmon-colored hair in a short ponytail, leaving your bangs to frame your face and bright red eyes. You're a bit on the short side, but your small frame packs a punch, testament to the effort you've put into this for the past four years... Even if it's sometimes gotten you mistaken for a boy. And for better or for worse, you've wound up having to reuse your standard white and navy-collared school uniform, even if it's getting rather tight around your small but distinctly pointy chest. Your family is hardly dirt-poor, but neither are you really in a position to afford a more fancy outfit just for the occasion, and your parents reasoned that you'll probably be given an official uniform once you arrive, anyway.
Adjusting the hairclip one more time, you grab the small bag with your belongings and head out to breakfast, giving your room a final parting glance; uncertain how long it may be until the next time you see it. There's a certain sense of melancholy to the moment, but it's by far outweighed by your anticipation for what is to come.
***
Breakfast is a stilted affair. Your parents are clearly trying hard to be supportive and proud, but perhaps naturally, they're hesitant to send their only child off to a war zone. You can't help but remember a conversation over a newspaper you'd accidentally eavesdropped on one morning, shortly after the incident...
"They say the fifth one vanished. They found her mech, but it was empty."
"So... she's probably dead."
"Nobody knows either way, do they? What does anyone know about these monsters, really?"
"That they're hostile and out to kill us all."
"Isn't that the truth. I'm glad Lesya is safe."
"You can't think she was serious, right? If she actually met one of those things, there's no way she'd still be here now."
"I know she was frightened and crying when she came back to us, and she's been scary quiet ever since. I don't know if she's telling the truth entirely, but I do think that, whatever she experienced out on the beach, she believes that is the truth." It was frustrating, that they didn't trust you on such an important matter, but then they'd always treated you like someone four years younger.
"Oh, no."
"Honey, what's wrong?"
"It says they're preparing to institute a draft. 'Non-Mandatory'... isn't that an oxymoron?"
"Hmm. 'Each city is urged to recruit ten volunteers; girls of eighteen years or older, to serve in the Defense Corp. against our unknown attackers. Fear not for their safety, as the powered mechanical armor used by our defenders will be mass-produced, for a stronger and more effective army. We only ask for ten volunteers per city per year, but if there are deficiencies we will institute more compulsory recruitment measures to make up the difference.' Yeah, that's real nice."
"It's four years until Lesya turns eighteen. I pray the war is over before then."
You hope it is as well, on account of the lives already lost... but at the same time, you very much suspect it won't, and that suits you just fine as well. You have plans to make.
***
Things flow more easily once they've taken you to the train station; tearful farewells and hugs and promises to write every day. And then you're boarding, finding a window facing the platform so you can say goodbye once again, yes.
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. You even think you can see your house from here... 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 gawked at the view plenty when you traveled to the capital a few months back, so instead you settle in and root through your bag, pulling out a map. The map is of a valley, shaped like an off-kilter diamond; with one city, Barasson, in the very center and four arrayed around it in each of the cardinal directions. Krasnaya among the peaks to the north, Diphaci in the middle of the eastern forest, your own Skvarzava at the south end where it meets the ocean, and Cauterets to the west. You frown at the last one. Definitely an older map, though you wonder if it predates the barrier as well. You trace a finger in a rough oval around the edges of the valley and the small bit of sea at the bottom, approximately where you'd guess the invisible yet encompassing wall resides.
---
The valley land of Mzendzyovka started from humble means; a tent city built by hopelessly lost midieval refugees grew into a flourishing and self-sufficient tiny nation; benefitting from the greater world's advances while remaining safe from the nastier upheavals due to its insignificant size and sheltered location.
Then the barrier went up, and for fifteen years that self-sufficiency was put to the test as experts scratched their heads on why the valley was suddenly completely cut off from all outside contact. Just when people were starting to get used to the claustrophobic confines, the enemy appeared. Mzendzyovka's peaceful existence became a flaw as they struggled over several bloody months to hold back the tide, and just when the alien machines were on the capital's doorstep, hope arrived.
Reverse engineered from the wrecks of downed enemy robots, five mechanical power armor suits and their gifted pilots became symbols of hope, taking mere weeks to regain lost ground and holding the line against the admittedly weak attacks since. Until, at the end of the war's second year, a full army poured forth, headed by a massive and unfamiliar type of opponent. It took all five of the mechs to take it down, and while they were distracted, the rest of the army dispersed into the prairie, heading north and south and east to attack the three locations most distant from the war.
That was the day when you had been attacked. That was the day when one of those first five pilots, Anastasia, saved your life and only apologized for having done so. That was the day that led you to where you are now, on a train that was just pulling into the central station in Barasson.
---
It's a simple swap from the north-south line to the east-west, though the train headed to New Cauterets is considerably emptier. Four girls are already waiting in the car the conductor directs you to, each in opposite corners.
The first girl you lay eyes on is... bouncy, in several senses of the word. She has an unruly mop of carrot-orange hair over a round and grinning face, mischievous eyes darting back and forth between the other, unreceptive passengers. She's wearing a white long-sleeved top that only reaches just below her rather excessive bustline, with an undershirt of chaotic zebra-like black-and-white striping to cover her somewhat chubby midsection. Her thighhighs and garish orange miniskirt do absolutely nothing to conceal how thick her thighs are, or the width of the hips they support. Yet she also seems quite fit, with her muscular upper arms providing the most tangible proof of hard strength existing under the welcoming layer of pudge.
The second girl is seemingly her total opposite, a curled-up runt staring unblinkingly out the window. She's wearing tight black leggings and a massive navy-blue peacoat that she's all but drowing in, and while her hime-cut long black hair cascades glossily down her back, her disposition is most comparable to that of a corpse. She's got her slender legs hugged tight to her chest, while sleeves that extend at least a foot past where her hands must be hang down in front to obscure her form. What little of her skin you can see doesn't seem too terribly pale and her face isn't as gaunt as you'd expect, but she's still clearly closed herself off from her surroundings.
The third girl isn't as closed off, but still seems distinctly standoffish, sorting through a deck of cards in her lap with a disinterested look. Her thick bob cut is a snowy white that reminds you of your memories of Anastasia, and she wears a slim black wrap dress with a pale yellow ascot and frilly cuffs. She too is part of the stockings club, straight vertical black and white stripes that remind you strangely of a convict's outfit; the only real splash of color is a red vertical headband that separates her bangs from her sidelocks. And though you wonder how much of it is influenced by the dress's shaping, you find yourself somewhat envying her subtle but effective hourglass.
The final girl seems more your speed, wearing a simple tan button-up blouse with an overly-long green tie and knee-length flannel skirt. Her legs are perfectly bare, albeit quite stick-like and seem far longer compared to her body than they should be; she's clearly still growing out of her gangly teenage proportions, and has... no chest to speak of. Forcing yourself to look upward, you realize she's watching you with an expectant and friendly smile, one that induces a strange level of guilt in the back of your head. Her hair is a bright lime green, pulled back into a pair of long twintails at the nape of her neck.
Who Do You Sit Beside?
> The Bouncy Girl. She seems like the most outgoing of the bunch, and the conversation should be interesting.
> The Quiet Girl. She's not shown many signs of life, but you're really curious as to what could be going through her mind.
> The Card Girl. She seems a bit unfriendly now, but you're familiar with that saying about books and covers.
> The Gangly Girl. She strikes you as simple and straightforward, reliable and easy to talk with about nothing in particular.
> Address them all. Maybe you shouldn't sit down right away, but instead try to get a group conversation going.
> Go find your own corner. With the heady mix of emotions today's already filled you with, you're not sure you're up for a conversation.
Introductions!
>"My name is Alexandra"
->"but you can just call me Lesya."
>Let them introduce first.
What To Talk About?
> Ask what's on her mind. As sure an icebreaker as any.
> Ask what brings her here. Your train has a destination, after all.
> Ask where she's from. By the same token, she started out somewhere, right?
> Mention you're joining the MDC. You don't know that the same is true for her, but you may as well bring it up.
> Write-In
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META: QM Is Learning
ColdGoldLazarus
Contrary Quester, Spreadsheet Queen, Pink Flamingo
- Location
- Challenger Deep
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Alright, it's clear I've flubbed up a fair bit here, and am affected with a particularly nasty case of foot-in-mouth syndrome. For those who missed these shenanigans, I've added a few extra voting options to the last threadmark, but I'll also throw them down here for ease of access:
Introductions!
>"My name is Alexandra"
->"but you can just call me Lesya."
>Let them introduce first.
What To Talk About?
> Ask what's on her mind. As sure an icebreaker as any.
> Ask what brings her here. Your train has a destination, after all.
> Ask where she's from. By the same token, she started out somewhere, right?
> Mention you're joining the MDC. You don't know that the same is true for her, but you may as well bring it up.
> Write-In
Introductions!
>"My name is Alexandra"
->"but you can just call me Lesya."
>Let them introduce first.
What To Talk About?
> Ask what's on her mind. As sure an icebreaker as any.
> Ask what brings her here. Your train has a destination, after all.
> Ask where she's from. By the same token, she started out somewhere, right?
> Mention you're joining the MDC. You don't know that the same is true for her, but you may as well bring it up.
> Write-In
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The Train Ride West (Part 1/4)
ColdGoldLazarus
Contrary Quester, Spreadsheet Queen, Pink Flamingo
- Location
- Challenger Deep
- Pronouns
- She/Her
The green-haired girl is looking straight at you; or at least was; she turns away, pretending to act nonchalant, but it's too late - she knows you're there, and you know she knows you're there, and you suspect she knows you know she knows. Maybe she wouldn't take it as a snub if you went to talk to someone else, but you decide not to risk it, and take the seat beside hers. "Uh, hi."
"Hello," she says, turning back to you with a grin. "It's a pleasure to meet you!" Her eyes are a comfortable shade of brown, you note.
"Same to you. My name is Alexandra, but you can call me Lesya." you offer a hand to shake.
"And I'm Elaine Luciole." She accepts the handshake; her grip is weaker than yours, but still respectably firm.
You cast about momentarily for a conversation topic, and outside, the station walls begin moving as the train sets off. This gives you an idea; if she's going somewhere, she had to have come from somewhere, right?. "So where are you from? I just came in off the line from Skvarsava; what about you?"
She giggled self-consciously, scratching the back of her head. "Well, I'm actually from New Cauterets; I had to come here to the capital to take care of something for my family, and..." That would make sense; in hindsight her name was rather distinctly of the western town. "And, I wanted to meet the new Advanced Service members coming to the front."
"Well, you're talking to one of them!" You explain with pride, puffing out your chest a bit. "Are you joining as well?"
"Well, duh. Didn't the conductor send you to this car? We all get this one to ourselves." She pulled out her own copy of the information sheet you'd also received upon accepting entrance into the AS, and pointed to the train information. "Advanced Service members will ride in forward car to establish team relations."
"Oh." You blink, checking your own paper; it says the same. "I honestly didn't notice that." Looking up, you glance about at the other three girls. The card girl and the quiet girl haven't changed position, but the bouncy girl has been watching you two talk. "Establish team relations, huh?"
"Yep. Unfortunately, it seems you're the only one who actually wants to talk to me." Elaine says.
"I do, too!" Bouncy girl calls defensively from her seat, startling the white-haired girl and causing her to drop her cards.
"UNFORTUNATELY," Elaine repeats through gritted teeth, "It seems you're the only one who actually wants to talk to me."
What do?
> Help Card Girl gather up her cards
> Invite Bouncy Girl to join you two
> Ask Elaine what her beef with Bouncy Girl is
> Other? (Write in)
"Hello," she says, turning back to you with a grin. "It's a pleasure to meet you!" Her eyes are a comfortable shade of brown, you note.
"Same to you. My name is Alexandra, but you can call me Lesya." you offer a hand to shake.
"And I'm Elaine Luciole." She accepts the handshake; her grip is weaker than yours, but still respectably firm.
You cast about momentarily for a conversation topic, and outside, the station walls begin moving as the train sets off. This gives you an idea; if she's going somewhere, she had to have come from somewhere, right?. "So where are you from? I just came in off the line from Skvarsava; what about you?"
She giggled self-consciously, scratching the back of her head. "Well, I'm actually from New Cauterets; I had to come here to the capital to take care of something for my family, and..." That would make sense; in hindsight her name was rather distinctly of the western town. "And, I wanted to meet the new Advanced Service members coming to the front."
"Well, you're talking to one of them!" You explain with pride, puffing out your chest a bit. "Are you joining as well?"
"Well, duh. Didn't the conductor send you to this car? We all get this one to ourselves." She pulled out her own copy of the information sheet you'd also received upon accepting entrance into the AS, and pointed to the train information. "Advanced Service members will ride in forward car to establish team relations."
"Oh." You blink, checking your own paper; it says the same. "I honestly didn't notice that." Looking up, you glance about at the other three girls. The card girl and the quiet girl haven't changed position, but the bouncy girl has been watching you two talk. "Establish team relations, huh?"
"Yep. Unfortunately, it seems you're the only one who actually wants to talk to me." Elaine says.
"I do, too!" Bouncy girl calls defensively from her seat, startling the white-haired girl and causing her to drop her cards.
"UNFORTUNATELY," Elaine repeats through gritted teeth, "It seems you're the only one who actually wants to talk to me."
What do?
> Help Card Girl gather up her cards
> Invite Bouncy Girl to join you two
> Ask Elaine what her beef with Bouncy Girl is
> Other? (Write in)
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The Train Ride West (Part 2/4)
ColdGoldLazarus
Contrary Quester, Spreadsheet Queen, Pink Flamingo
- Location
- Challenger Deep
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Says she'll update her story about every two weeks - updates once a month at best with only a third of the promised content, and took a random accidental six month long hiatus in the middle
Says she'll likely update her quest very infrequently - winds up updating about every 24 hours, give or take.
Nailed it
You pause for a moment, and take a mental step back from the situation. Elaine has her arms crossed, wearing a brittle smile as she says something to you, pretending not to have heard the call from the back of the car. The curvy girl is leaning forward with her paws... er, hands, resting atop the seat back in front of her, wearing an expression like an overly-friendly kitten waiting to pounce. The quiet girl is still staring out the window, and now you're beginning to seriously wonder if she's actually comatose. And the white-haired girl is scrambling under her seat to find all her cards, making noises of seemingly disproportionate panic as she struggles to locate the last few.
It's clear what you need to do. Whatever problem there is between Elaine and the great bouncy one can wait; right now there is someone else who needs help. Dropping to your knees, you join her in her search, checking the rows before and behind her. One's in the forward row, two more in back, and you find a fourth one sitting unnoticed in the seat next to hers. It's not much, but when she finally stands back up with a dejected sigh only to see you holding out your findings, her small but appreciative smile confirms that yes, this venture was worthwhile. "Thank you." As she takes back the cards, you see the top one you found isn't like any you're familiar with - it depicts a young person -man or woman, you can't quite determine- with a bindle slung over one shoulder, an expression of pure joy, and one foot poised to step straight off a cliff.
"Is that all of them?" You ask, and she wordlessly takes a moment to flip through her deck, rearranging cards and turning a few the right way up. After going back through it a second time, she nods in confirmation. "I'm glad. My name is-"
"Alexandra. I heard." She interrupts, though her tone is considerably softer than the words would imply. "And I am Yelena Klementia."
She's looking away but her body language is open, and the mixed signals leave you at sum zero on whether she wants to talk or be left alone. For the moment, you simply nod in response. "Nice to meet you."
Now what?
> Ask her about her cards
> Ask where she's from
> Invite her to sit down with you and Elaine
> Leave her be and continue talking to Elaine
> Leave her be and invite Bouncy Girl over
> Invite both over, though it may get crowded
> Leave her be and pester Quiet Girl
> Leave her be and talk to Bouncy Girl
Says she'll likely update her quest very infrequently - winds up updating about every 24 hours, give or take.
Nailed it
You pause for a moment, and take a mental step back from the situation. Elaine has her arms crossed, wearing a brittle smile as she says something to you, pretending not to have heard the call from the back of the car. The curvy girl is leaning forward with her paws... er, hands, resting atop the seat back in front of her, wearing an expression like an overly-friendly kitten waiting to pounce. The quiet girl is still staring out the window, and now you're beginning to seriously wonder if she's actually comatose. And the white-haired girl is scrambling under her seat to find all her cards, making noises of seemingly disproportionate panic as she struggles to locate the last few.
It's clear what you need to do. Whatever problem there is between Elaine and the great bouncy one can wait; right now there is someone else who needs help. Dropping to your knees, you join her in her search, checking the rows before and behind her. One's in the forward row, two more in back, and you find a fourth one sitting unnoticed in the seat next to hers. It's not much, but when she finally stands back up with a dejected sigh only to see you holding out your findings, her small but appreciative smile confirms that yes, this venture was worthwhile. "Thank you." As she takes back the cards, you see the top one you found isn't like any you're familiar with - it depicts a young person -man or woman, you can't quite determine- with a bindle slung over one shoulder, an expression of pure joy, and one foot poised to step straight off a cliff.
"Is that all of them?" You ask, and she wordlessly takes a moment to flip through her deck, rearranging cards and turning a few the right way up. After going back through it a second time, she nods in confirmation. "I'm glad. My name is-"
"Alexandra. I heard." She interrupts, though her tone is considerably softer than the words would imply. "And I am Yelena Klementia."
She's looking away but her body language is open, and the mixed signals leave you at sum zero on whether she wants to talk or be left alone. For the moment, you simply nod in response. "Nice to meet you."
Now what?
> Ask her about her cards
> Ask where she's from
> Invite her to sit down with you and Elaine
> Leave her be and continue talking to Elaine
> Leave her be and invite Bouncy Girl over
> Invite both over, though it may get crowded
> Leave her be and pester Quiet Girl
> Leave her be and talk to Bouncy Girl
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The Train Ride West (Part 3/4)
ColdGoldLazarus
Contrary Quester, Spreadsheet Queen, Pink Flamingo
- Location
- Challenger Deep
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Yesterday wasn't so great for me, but it's also given me the chance to think this update through a little better, so hopefully that shows. It may be a good idea for me to shift to an ever-other-day schedule than every day, in light of this.
You decide to take this as an opportunity. "Here, why don't you join us?" She considers for a moment, glancing down at her deck as if asking it permission, then nods. On a whim, you turn toward the back end of the car, and beckon to the other two. "And you, too!"
Quiet girl's eyes flick towards you for a moment before she resumes watching the scenery, but you're strangely relieved at the confirmation that she is in fact alive. Then the view is blocked by boob as a pair of arms wrap you in a crushing embrace. "I thought you'd never ask!" You distantly hear, but you're more concerned with the fact that your vision is starting to darken around the edges, and your lungs are on fire. You weakly flounder for a moment before the pressure lifts, and AIR SWEET AIR.
Once your fragile tether on life has been re-established, you tune in to find the conversation has moved on without you. "I am Yelena Klementia," Yelena says, apprehensively shaking hands with the bouncy girl.
"And you can call me Lynx. Lynx Desjardins!" Lynx thankfully refrains from giving her the same treatment, as the snowy-haired girl seems considerably more fragile. "I'm from Diphaci! What about you?"
"No you aren't," Elaine objects before Yelena can respond, shooting the curvier girl an annoyed glare. "Don't try to pretend otherwise."
"How did you even know?" Lynx asks, her demeanor beginning to sag a bit. "Yeah, we moved there during the invasion and decided to stay even afterwards... but I'd rather think of the present! Nice to meet you!" Brightening back up, she sticks out a hand to shake, and Elaine reluctantly accepts the gesture, albeit grumbling all the while.
While this is going on, you've turned back to Yelena, and indicate her deck. "So what's with those cards? They don't look like any I've ever seen."
Yelena bites her lip before responding. "It's Tarot. Can be used to play, but they also tell your future, if you know how."
"How would that even work? Can you show me?" The only thing you can think of is if the cards had different cryptic sayings on them. To achieve wisdom, you must first desire it, or perhaps something like Your romantic prospects are looking troubled. And now for some reason you're thinking of cookies... But as far as you can tell, watching as Yelena anxiously flips through the deck, none of the cards have anything like that.
"I... don't actually know," Yelena admits after a while. "My aunt had these made for me and was going to teach me how to read them, but... that hasn't happened yet." You sense there's more to the story than that, but she seems reluctant to elaborate.
Turning back to the other two, you find Lynx attempting to give Elaine a friendly noogie. Elaine, to your absolute shock and surprise, doesn't take it well, shoving the rounded arm away with a huff. Still, she manages to school her expression back into her earlier friendly calm, smiling at you genuinely. "Now, where were we?"
Where were you?
> Ask Elaine what's between her and Lynx. Maybe it's better to get this sorted out now.
> Talk about something else. Or maybe it's better to wait; you've only just met and you don't want to seem too pushy.
-> Ask where Yelena's from. She got cut off before she could say anything.
-> Ask what it's like to live so close to the front. You're sure Elaine's already seem some interesting things.
-> Ask Lynx what caused her family to stay in Diphaci. You've never been there before, and don't know as much about it.
-> Talk about Skvarska. You've been asking a lot of questions without really saying much about yourself, after all.
> Other/Write-In
You decide to take this as an opportunity. "Here, why don't you join us?" She considers for a moment, glancing down at her deck as if asking it permission, then nods. On a whim, you turn toward the back end of the car, and beckon to the other two. "And you, too!"
Quiet girl's eyes flick towards you for a moment before she resumes watching the scenery, but you're strangely relieved at the confirmation that she is in fact alive. Then the view is blocked by boob as a pair of arms wrap you in a crushing embrace. "I thought you'd never ask!" You distantly hear, but you're more concerned with the fact that your vision is starting to darken around the edges, and your lungs are on fire. You weakly flounder for a moment before the pressure lifts, and AIR SWEET AIR.
Once your fragile tether on life has been re-established, you tune in to find the conversation has moved on without you. "I am Yelena Klementia," Yelena says, apprehensively shaking hands with the bouncy girl.
"And you can call me Lynx. Lynx Desjardins!" Lynx thankfully refrains from giving her the same treatment, as the snowy-haired girl seems considerably more fragile. "I'm from Diphaci! What about you?"
"No you aren't," Elaine objects before Yelena can respond, shooting the curvier girl an annoyed glare. "Don't try to pretend otherwise."
"How did you even know?" Lynx asks, her demeanor beginning to sag a bit. "Yeah, we moved there during the invasion and decided to stay even afterwards... but I'd rather think of the present! Nice to meet you!" Brightening back up, she sticks out a hand to shake, and Elaine reluctantly accepts the gesture, albeit grumbling all the while.
While this is going on, you've turned back to Yelena, and indicate her deck. "So what's with those cards? They don't look like any I've ever seen."
Yelena bites her lip before responding. "It's Tarot. Can be used to play, but they also tell your future, if you know how."
"How would that even work? Can you show me?" The only thing you can think of is if the cards had different cryptic sayings on them. To achieve wisdom, you must first desire it, or perhaps something like Your romantic prospects are looking troubled. And now for some reason you're thinking of cookies... But as far as you can tell, watching as Yelena anxiously flips through the deck, none of the cards have anything like that.
"I... don't actually know," Yelena admits after a while. "My aunt had these made for me and was going to teach me how to read them, but... that hasn't happened yet." You sense there's more to the story than that, but she seems reluctant to elaborate.
Turning back to the other two, you find Lynx attempting to give Elaine a friendly noogie. Elaine, to your absolute shock and surprise, doesn't take it well, shoving the rounded arm away with a huff. Still, she manages to school her expression back into her earlier friendly calm, smiling at you genuinely. "Now, where were we?"
Where were you?
> Ask Elaine what's between her and Lynx. Maybe it's better to get this sorted out now.
> Talk about something else. Or maybe it's better to wait; you've only just met and you don't want to seem too pushy.
-> Ask where Yelena's from. She got cut off before she could say anything.
-> Ask what it's like to live so close to the front. You're sure Elaine's already seem some interesting things.
-> Ask Lynx what caused her family to stay in Diphaci. You've never been there before, and don't know as much about it.
-> Talk about Skvarska. You've been asking a lot of questions without really saying much about yourself, after all.
> Other/Write-In
The Train Ride West (Part 4/4)
ColdGoldLazarus
Contrary Quester, Spreadsheet Queen, Pink Flamingo
- Location
- Challenger Deep
- Pronouns
- She/Her
"Well," you respond, "I think Yelena was going to say something?" You also realize the current seating is perhaps not ideal - Lynx is sitting next to Elaine with one arm still over her shoulders, while you and Yelena are in the row ahead of them, sitting backwards on the seats. It seems Elaine is at least making an effort to restrain her frustration with Lynx's presence, but you decide to help things along, coming around and wedging yourself between the two of them. Elaine's expression is of nothing but gratitude, despite the fact that the new seating arrangement is rather cramped.
"Oh, right," Yelena finally says. "I'm from Krasnaya."
"You seem dressed rather dandy for that town," Elaine observes, and Yelena withdraws a bit. "I visited once; it was a sea of overalls and soot stains."
"Yeah. My family is... well, well-off by our standards. Nothing compared to the capital, though!" She waves her hands in front of her, oddly desperate to downplay her wealth, and this is the most animated you've seen her. "I mean, this was my best dress." You try to imagine her in overalls... or anything less fancy, really, but the image doesn't quite coalesce.
Still, you decide to spare her and change the subject slightly. "Aren't you warm? Being down south like this."
"It has more to do with elevation, I think," Lynx says, tapping a finger to her chin thoughtfully. "I mean, Krasnaya is up in the mountains." Yelena nods in confirmation, and you resist the urge to bury your head in your hands.
"It is warmer down here, but it's not uncomfortable. People always ask us how we stand the cold, but to be perfectly honest... we don't." She gives a small grin at this.
"I already knew that. The elevation thing," you explain in an attempt to defend yourself. "I mean, the temperature here isn't any different than down in Skvarska; it's not like the valley's big enough for any real difference in weather." Elaine pats you on the shoulder with an Understanding Look that somehow does nothing to ease your defensiveness. Imagine that.
"What's it like to be by the sea?" Yelena asks suddenly. "Have you ever been on a ship?"
You shrug. "It's nice to fall asleep to the sound of waves. I mean, my house isn't right next to the water, but it's still close enough that I can hear them if I leave my window open. And no. My dad was, but all the big ships have been stuck in dock since the barrier fell. The fishing boats still go out, but I haven't been on one."
"I heard the place used to be a lot nicer, when there was still trade going in and out." Elaine says. "Is that the case?"
"No, not really. I mean, the ships stuck at the docks are always kind of depressing to look at, but it's still a pretty nice place overall." Maybe you're just biased on this, though. Sure, there is that one part of town you always want to avoid if possible, but wasn't that true of every city? The area where you live in particular is a well-maintained neighborhood thick with trees and comfortably small houses. You're about to say more, but the moment you open your mouth again, the train horn blows and the brakes squeal loudly.
"Oh, looks like we're here!" Lynx says, getting up instantly. Outside the window, you can see an outdoor platform approaching as the train slows down; the screeching from below intensifies as you draw nearer, before finally letting up once you come to a halt.
The moment the conductor opens the doors, Lynx has grabbed her bags and run outside; Yelena and Elaine follow shortly after. You're about to follow them as well, before you remember the fifth passenger. Quiet Girl somehow still hasn't moved.
What do you do?
> Call to her, let her know it's time to go. Maybe she just fell asleep, or something.
> Go grab her and pull her along. You don't know how long the train will be in station, and you don't have time to wait around.
> Get Lynx to get her. The bigger and stronger girl would probably have no trouble wrestling her off the train.
> Leave her be. Surely she knows, and is just taking her time, right?
"Oh, right," Yelena finally says. "I'm from Krasnaya."
"You seem dressed rather dandy for that town," Elaine observes, and Yelena withdraws a bit. "I visited once; it was a sea of overalls and soot stains."
"Yeah. My family is... well, well-off by our standards. Nothing compared to the capital, though!" She waves her hands in front of her, oddly desperate to downplay her wealth, and this is the most animated you've seen her. "I mean, this was my best dress." You try to imagine her in overalls... or anything less fancy, really, but the image doesn't quite coalesce.
Still, you decide to spare her and change the subject slightly. "Aren't you warm? Being down south like this."
"It has more to do with elevation, I think," Lynx says, tapping a finger to her chin thoughtfully. "I mean, Krasnaya is up in the mountains." Yelena nods in confirmation, and you resist the urge to bury your head in your hands.
"It is warmer down here, but it's not uncomfortable. People always ask us how we stand the cold, but to be perfectly honest... we don't." She gives a small grin at this.
"I already knew that. The elevation thing," you explain in an attempt to defend yourself. "I mean, the temperature here isn't any different than down in Skvarska; it's not like the valley's big enough for any real difference in weather." Elaine pats you on the shoulder with an Understanding Look that somehow does nothing to ease your defensiveness. Imagine that.
"What's it like to be by the sea?" Yelena asks suddenly. "Have you ever been on a ship?"
You shrug. "It's nice to fall asleep to the sound of waves. I mean, my house isn't right next to the water, but it's still close enough that I can hear them if I leave my window open. And no. My dad was, but all the big ships have been stuck in dock since the barrier fell. The fishing boats still go out, but I haven't been on one."
"I heard the place used to be a lot nicer, when there was still trade going in and out." Elaine says. "Is that the case?"
"No, not really. I mean, the ships stuck at the docks are always kind of depressing to look at, but it's still a pretty nice place overall." Maybe you're just biased on this, though. Sure, there is that one part of town you always want to avoid if possible, but wasn't that true of every city? The area where you live in particular is a well-maintained neighborhood thick with trees and comfortably small houses. You're about to say more, but the moment you open your mouth again, the train horn blows and the brakes squeal loudly.
"Oh, looks like we're here!" Lynx says, getting up instantly. Outside the window, you can see an outdoor platform approaching as the train slows down; the screeching from below intensifies as you draw nearer, before finally letting up once you come to a halt.
The moment the conductor opens the doors, Lynx has grabbed her bags and run outside; Yelena and Elaine follow shortly after. You're about to follow them as well, before you remember the fifth passenger. Quiet Girl somehow still hasn't moved.
What do you do?
> Call to her, let her know it's time to go. Maybe she just fell asleep, or something.
> Go grab her and pull her along. You don't know how long the train will be in station, and you don't have time to wait around.
> Get Lynx to get her. The bigger and stronger girl would probably have no trouble wrestling her off the train.
> Leave her be. Surely she knows, and is just taking her time, right?
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