samples. fragments. abstracts. snippets. examples.
POSt-apocalyptiC
Wednesday, August 12th
Her laundry list of things to do kept growing. It was like some sort of twisted hydra, where every task she crossed off, two more seemed to appear in its place. If she had thought her list from the week before had been long, it had only been the warm up to the one she was facing now. Her meetings last week had set her up for the mission she was preparing for, bags packed, tactics laid out, and weapons strategically placed across her body. Madelaine was not fooling around and in that moment she was every bit her father's daughter, ready for battle with the hard glint of a warrior in her eyes. Only one other man would accompany her on this task, the very same man that would have accompanied Zain, had he still been alive in this moment. But he was gone; she and Reidar would face this together, their constant training in the last month having put them perfectly in sync. "Sinni--" Reidar's frame, tall and wide, filled her bedroom door as he spoke, studying the girl before him with satisfaction. She would do well. "--it is time, are you prepared?" Tightening the last strap on her thigh holster, she gave a silent nod. It was now or never, and she would be loathe to be late. If they missed their window of opportunity, then the mission was all for not and they had failed, both their fellow Heathens and their leader. She would not allow that to happen now any more than she had when she promised Sargon that she would garner Andrew Gresheki's support via his talk show, and that had been a startling success. Following Reidar's hulking frame, they moved silently through the halls, her mongrel of a mutt nipping at her heels as they walked. Rune would accompany them, after much protest from Reidar. It had been Sargon that finally relented, noting the help the wolf had been in the escape after The Raid. Madelaine had been smug for all of ten minutes until she realized that added another responsibility to her shoulders, another expectation of someone - or something - to care for in the heat of the battle. Their trek stopped in the garage, bags and packs tossed into the back of the truck, Rune hopping in along with them. He settled himself between the supplies, watching as the door closed. When the truck finally broke into the light of day, headed toward the city, the light was waning, the sun on its last strains over the horizon as it fell beneath the earth. Late afternoon, they would reach the city limits under the cover of darkness. It was exactly what they needed. They rode in silence, the tension thick enough to be cut with a knife. This was important, and neither of them were willing to see the opportunity pass. It wasn't until they came into view of the wall that Maddie sat up in her seat, her nerves creeping into her movements as she jerked her seatbelt off, letting it slide back into place with an audible zzzip! as she leaned forward against the dashboard, watching attentively. Reidar pulled the truck off to the side, turning it off. The light dimmed, and they were soon plunged into darkness, the moon shadowed out by clouds and the wall to their backs. Slipping from the vehicle, Madelaine moved to the rear, letting the mutt from the back. He gingerly jumped down, a pure white streak in the dark. Reidar soon joined them, and together they waited for their target to arrive. They did not have long to wait. Soon, the rumbling delivery truck, laden with necessities from the outskirts for the people within the walls, made its way down the road. The headlights flashed as it traveled over bumps and ruts in the well-worn street, shaking its contents. This was their target, the truck filled with supplies that the rebellion was soon to be in need of. They did well on their own, able to provide for their growing population with effort, but there were still some things that they needed to get through the city. Medical supplies, mass-produced treats (things like Maddie's favorite, Pop-Tarts), and other various products. Some produce, clothes... It was a grab bag on what they received, though this time it was a truck known to be carting medical supplies: the most valuable of all. As the truck ambled along in the darkness, the ambush went unnoticed. The mat of nails, laid to hinder the vehicle on its travels, did its job. With a loud BANG!, the tires blew and the driver was forced to account for the lack of control. The truck veered to the left, and Maddie hunkered down in her spot, knowing exactly what was coming next in she and Reidar's carefully formulated plan. He had since left her side, creeping forward toward the cab of the damaged vehicle. Covering her ears, she ducked behind a nearby building, whistling for Rune. The mongrel made it just as the grenade went off, and behind her, the cab of the truck rose up, covered in fire. There was no doubt to her that the driver was dead, and it caused a pang in her chest. Remorse wasn't something she often felt, but killing innocent people... It was something neither she nor Reidar took lightly. They would both be having drinks, that night. "Come on, Sinni! We need to be quick!" Reidar's gruff voice called her back, and the adrenaline in her veins had her up and moving, rushing toward her commander, already prying open the back doors to reveal the precious contents within. Half-filled with boxes, labeling the various supplies and medicines. Disease did not care if you were good or bad, fighting for freedom, or fighting against it. The Heathens were not immune, and they had many in need. Silence passed between the pair as they carefully loaded boxes into their own truck, the back slowly filling as they worked. It wasn't until their quiet company was broken by the sound of a whirring copter and the bright flash of a searchlight overhead that she stopped working, swearing beneath her breath. It was no doubt that someone had heard the bang of their explosives, but she hadn't expected the CFV to have their copters out so fast. Her surprise grew tenfold when it passed over them, right to the outskirts of the wall, closer to the entrance, several blocks away from the mess they had made. Her curiosity grew too much to bear, and Madelaine took off at a run in the direction of the searchlight. Behind her, Reidar called for her to come back, to finish the job, and to not get involved in the affairs of the Devout. She ignored him, pressing on, determined to find out what was going on. That same adrenaline was still pumping in her veins as she skid to a halt around the corner from the news van, where Angelica Martinez was doing her segment. Rune stopped at her heels, panting. "I'm here at the home of Alexandre McMahon, a seemingly quiet and unassuming boy. After some preliminary research, he seems woefully average. Average grades, average in looks, shy, not many friends..." Maddie tuned her out shortly after hearing the name that she had given, her blood running cold in her veins. Xandre. The boy she was meant to be paying a visit to the very next day. "However, if he were as innocent as he wanted us all to believe, we wouldn't be here tonight, now would we?" Angelica gave a fake laugh for them camera, her smile never faltering as she spoke, every bit of her as perfectly preened as Maddie was not. It made her want to punch the smiling blonde in her even white teeth. "No, my friends, we are here because this is the boy that has been vandalizing--" Angelica dared to look scandalized, voice raising in pitch. "--city property with foolish and slanderous lies about the Heathen menace!" Here, she looked like she may cry, so upset and outraged by the offense poor Xandre had committed. It was at that point that Maddie could hear no more. She slipped forward just as the CFV emerged from the house before them, a struggling young boy, frail and small, between them. Without thinking she rushed into the fray, arms folded behind her back and a smile of her own on her lips. Rune followed, imposing with hackles raised, growling at the gathering crowd before them. Even in the middle of the night, people were coming out of their homes to watch a young kid hauled off. A menace, he would be branded at a later date, a poor soul gone awry, in need of some proper Church teachings and a little reeducation. Maddie felt ill again, sickened by the sheer cruelty people could treat each other with. Neighbors, people that had known each other their whole lives... They could turn on each other in the blink of an eye for no reason but a few words and accusations. In the crowd, she heard someone yell about her sudden appearance, and her thoughts were gone, cleared out as the mindset of a battle settled over her. Smile widening, she flashed a grin to the cameras before running at the nearest CFV agent. He was quick to draw a gun and she dropped to the ground, shocked, as a bullet whizzed past her ear. They weren't playing, but the smile never faltered as she met him in hand-to-hand combat after closing the distance between them. She pulled her knife from its home against her thigh, moving with all the grace of a dancer. She swirled back, striking first with her foot, a well-placed roundhouse in the center of her assailant's chest, then delivering the harsher blow with the blade in her hand. With a self-satisfied smirk, she vaguely wondered if Dan were watching the news, and if he was impressed by just how competent she was. The unwelcome thought, stray and out of place in the middle of a fight, was gone as quickly as it had come, and she was back in the fray as if her mind had never left. The man she'd hit, armored as the CFV often were, only grunted as the blade glanced harmlessly off of Kevlar. For a brief moment, she was back in the bunker, lost in memories that were threatening to overwhelm her. This could have been the man that had taken everything from her. It could have been the one that had taken Rue from her. It could have been the one that had taken Zain from her. She was frozen, locked in her thoughts. It left her wide open, and the CFV agent swung around with his fist, knocking her in the side of the head. The world around her spun and she swayed, bringing her own fists up. She moved too slow, and before she had a chance to get a hit in, Reidar came to her rescue. He dispatched the man, body slumping to the ground, and turned to her with fire in his eyes. "What the hell were you thinking?" His voice came out in a hiss, and she knew she was in trouble. However, there was no time to consider the consequences of her actions, now. They were too deep into the fight. They needed to get out of there before reinforcements came, and they needed to get out of there with the boy. With one down, a quick count told her that four remained. Four CFV agents stood between rescuing poor little Alexandre and heading home with the supplies they'd stolen. It was no wonder that their own heist was getting so little attention when the big news was only a few blocks away. Glancing over to Reidar, he gave a slow nod. With their plan set, they split apart, Maddie heading for the men to her left, he to those on the right. Paired off against two each, her blade flashed in her hand again, gripped so tightly her knuckles were turning white lest she drop it, the handle slicked in her hand by sweat. Gathering up as much strength as she could, she launched the knife at the first man. By sheer luck, the blade lodged itself in the tender flesh of her combatant's neck, finding its home in the gap between chest plate and helmet. Without a weapon, she turned to the second man, almost wary. The idea of killing someone had her nearly halted, just as the truck driver's death still weighed on her shoulders. Killing someone on live television, the cameras on her, made her want to vomit then and there. Yet she plowed on, not letting herself get lost in her thoughts a second time. The first had nearly gotten her killed, she would not make the same mistake again. Behind her, she could hear Reidar's fight, the grunts of hits being taken and given in turn. She resisted the urge to turn and see how he was faring. Instead, she reached down, grabbed her knife, the blade dripping red, and swiped it at the man she faced. He stepped back, out of her reach, and the flash of a grin spread across his lips. She growled at that, leaping forward to wrap her arms around his neck and swing herself around, up onto his back. It was a maneuver she had tried several times before with Reidar, one that she had almost been begging to use in a fight. Now was her chance. Locking her grip, she twisted herself until she had one leg over his shoulder, and both arms around his neck, cutting off his air supply. It seemed it might work until all at once, he leaned forward before she could hook her other leg beneath his armpit. She fell forward, tumbling off of his shoulders and onto the ground. Hands went out to stop herself and she landed on her elbow, ripping her shirt. Blood welled at the spot, but went ignored as she scrambled to her feet, lurching forward to attack again. "Rebel bitch." She saw the flash of a muzzle before she heard the sound of gunfire, and it gave her just enough time to dive to the side, rolling when she hit the ground to get to her feet. The moment she landed on her right leg, the pain she felt was blinding and she cried out, voice suddenly hoarse. Glancing down, blood stained her leg, invisible on her dark pants, save for the sheen of wetness gathering in her upper thigh and slowly making its way across her knee and down her calf. "Reidar!" Her call caught him off guard and he turned, swearing in his native tongue. Without hesitation, he pulled the gun from his belt and shot the man hovering above her, threatening to give a final blow. With the gloves off, they were no longer trying to avoid the death of the CFV, they were only trying to avoid the death of themselves. The man she had been facing crumpled to the ground atop her and she shoved him off, grimacing at the blood covering her, a majority of which was not her own. A low whistle brought Rune to her side and she hobbled to her feet, resting a hand on the mutt's back to keep herself upright. It was a pain, but she managed. Instead, with the CFV dead around her, the crowd holding its breath, and the news crews still focused on her, she gave them all a wide smile, holding her arms out as if to tell the whole world to come and have its go at her. "Remember, people! It was your government that shot first!" She called out, gesturing to the bodies that lay around her. "And it will be my people that shoot last." The last image the news crew aired live was that of Maddie holding up her homemade rebel flag, blood staining her face. The black-and-white flag, stamped with the image of a skull and crossbones, was the remnants of pirates from a time long past. SARGON LIVES had been scrawled across it in red paint, but it was held high. The smile on her face said everything she needed to, as did the camera men yelling "CUT THE FEED, CUT THE FEED!" before the news went dark. MODERN
"Presumptuous?" He tested the word on his tongue, sending her a smirk as he walked back toward the counter, giving her a quick shake of his head. "No, I prefer the term..." He frowned, as if he couldn't remember the precise word in English that he was looking for. "Bold." Reidar hasn't seen it so much as overstepping a boundary that she had said, but rather taking a risk and hoping she wouldn't be upset with him in turn. At least, he hoped he was getting his wording right when it came to the language.
Chuckling, he watched her form as she flitted about the bakery, doing this or that to finish up everything it took her to close the building. Silent, he leaned against the counter, running fingers through his hair. However, when she finished up and started heading upstairs he followed like a puppy, hands in his pockets as his long legs carried him up the steep steps with ease. They gave him no trouble and he paid them no mind as he reached their summit, his attention immediately caught by her apartment. It was so very Lottie that it brought a smile to his face, the pop of colors and the easy decorations somehow very her. It was a homey place in a different way than his own apartment. "Hm?" Distracted, he glanced back over at her only to see a curtain in her place, blocking her off from his view. "I have been busy. Many of the classes I teach are at their end, so I have been trying to recruit for new ones to start. Today was a free lesson for hopefuls, many signed up for future classes." He informed her, rubbing at a place on his shoulder where Tucker had gotten him in their earlier bout. With a grin, he nodded as she popped back out from behind the curtain. "I got him back today, we did a demonstration at the end of the class and I got him in the ribs. He will be nursing that one for a few days." Nothing visible, as was the rule, though the black eye he was still sporting was turning a greenish color that looked sickening against his darker skinned complexion. "Come on, then--" He started when she announced that she was ready to go. "--we have an appointment to make!" Reidar informed her cheerily, following her out of the apartment and out onto the street. Heading toward Tucker's truck, he swung open the door for her, waiting until she had climbed inside before shutting the door and crossing over to the driver's side to get in, himself. With that mischievous grin back on his face, he turned over the engine, leaning back as he drove, making his way back into traffic while he drove. Chewing on his lower lip, Reidar flexed his fingers over the steering wheel, hoping that she would take to his idea and wouldn't mind what he had planned for them. He wasn't sure, but he knew she had mentioned liking it... It was his turn to have nerves fluttering in his stomach as he drove, the CD player flipped on to whatever it was Tucker had been playing before he'd handed over the keys. In this case, it was Nirvana, and Kurt Cobain was crooning through the speakers. "So, since I decided it was my turn..." He started, tapping his fingers against the wheel in time with the beat and resisting the urge to sing along. It wasn't his music of choice, but it was something he was used to, given that it was Tucker's favorite band. "I thought that perhaps we could go rock climbing." There was an unease to his voice that was uncharacteristic as a whole, as if he wasn't sure if it was two friends hanging out, or if this was border lining into a date. "There's a gym that I frequent that I thought we could go to." It had seemed like a good idea at the time. |
FANTASY
"You have to save her, Mikhail. Please."
"You're giving me far too much credit. I'm not that good a person." "She's my sister, Mitch. I'm your best friend. Come on!" "What can she do?" "She's a pixie with an affinity for wolves, what can't she do?" He gave a long sigh, turning from the window of his trailer to look over the blonde man standing in his doorway. "I'll see if I can make the arrangements, but I'm not promising anything, Chris. Track her down-" "I already did! She's with Zain Amir in Arabia. The prince bought her and I haven't heard from her, since, except her plea to save her from him." Christopher, a tall man with unruly blonde hair that brushed his shoulders when not in its messy bun, held up the letter he'd received three days ago, pacing back and forth within the small room. It was clear he was agitated, frustrated that his old friend didn't realize the severity of the situation. "What if it were your sister, Mikhail? What if it were Ksenia pleading with you for sanctuary, would you not go to the ends of the earth to do as she asked?" "That's a low blow, comrade..." Mikhail answered, blowing out his breath and raking his fingers through unruly dark hair, forcing it to stand on end where he pulled. "But you have made your point." He glanced to the programs on his desk, then pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, considering. "Fine. I'll send an offer and see what Zain wants for her. If I can purchase her, I will, but I won't pay more than she's worth, Christopher, I refuse. I did not get to where I am as a vampire by making rash and stupid decisions, and you'll do well to learn from that." His words were snapped, emerald eyes flashing red as he looked his friend over. Christopher snorted, the chuckle pulled unbidden from his lips. "Alright, Mikhail. Whatever you so... Just get my sister here in one piece. You'll have to bring her wolf, too, if she still has Jenkins. The mongrel's her familiar and she won't go anywhere without it." With that, the letter his sister had sent him was dropped upon Mikhail's desk and he exited the trailer. While he had been discussing personal matters with their arrogant ring leader, he had also been skirting his duties. That had been nearly two weeks ago. Now, after a week and a half of negotiations with the Arabian prince, he had agreed to give up his favored concubine for a sizeable sum. Mikhail had done his friend a service, purchasing Isabelle, and he could only hope that she would bring in enough sales to make up what he had lost acquiring her. The girl was meant to be arriving at the grounds any moment, Mikhail himself going to greet her with the company of her brother at his side. "Calm, Mikhail." The blonde man leaned against a nearby fence that guarded the outskirts of their grounds, head back as he waited for his sister to appear. He was unconcerned. The ring leader of their little show was reputable and had paid fair money for the fae beauty. Zain was not a man to go back on his word. Isabelle would be there, no matter how late she was. Her time of arrival was hardly Zain's fault - for as long as he had known the little pixie, she had never managed to be on time for anything, acting as if she had all the time in the world and the world simply moved too fast around her. At times, it was endearing... others, it was infuriating. He saw the wolf, bounding into the area, before he heard the high soprano call of the girl. "Christopher!" Moments later, the girl materialized in front of her brother and tackled him in the biggest hug her small from would allow, hugging tightly. He met the embrace, squeezing carefully to avoid breaking fragile bones and the delicate, iridescent wings that protruded from between her shoulder blades. "Hello, sister. I have missed you." He held her at arm's length, hands on her shoulders while he studied the girl in front of him. She appeared to be healthy and well-fed, skin with a glow that only came from hours in the sun, lounging languidly within its rays. On his second glance-over, he caught it, the shimmer around her that said she was using a Glamour, despite still being in the guise of a pixie, her natural form. "Isabelle. Remove your Glamour." It fell away, for only just a moment, and the frown on his face deepened, the lines around his eyes crinkling with concern. Isabelle was pulled into his arms once more, the hug a little softer, a little more careful. What Glamour she had up hid bruises and a great cut below her eyes that made it look like somone had slapped her. The gaunt look in her eyes said that someone had, but the brief glimpse he had been given of her true self had disappeared as quickly as it had come. Pulling away from her brother's embrace, Isabelle twirled, light-footed, to face the man that had accompanied Christopher to greet her. "You must be Mikhail." Leaning up on her toes, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I owe you more than just my service in your show; thank you." CRIME
"Evgeni is released today." The offhanded comment broke the silence that had encompassed the office for the last two hours, nearly startling the girl that lounged in a chair in the far corner, the window cracked to whisk the smoke from her cigarette out of the room. Her pose was relaxed, feet on the back of the chair while her head rest against the windowsill, not a care in the world.
"Who?" The cigarette was snubbed out against the window frame, making the man at the desk cringe and shoot her a nasty glare. Hastily, she cleaned up the ashes, dusting them out the window, and dropping the fag into the nearby ashtray. "You'll have to be a little more specific than that, Mikhail. I know a lot of Evgenis." Her tone took on a hint of boredom as she sat up, pulling herself to her feet to make her way around his desk, leaning on her elbows to study what it was he was working on, at the moment. "Sergei's son. The one we had Sven give a bit of an edge in prison." Without looking up, the man shuffled his papers out of her view, ushering them into a folder before they were dropped into a drawer to his left. It clicked shut with a lock audibly falling into place. She stood, rolling her shoulders until they popped, bending back with her hands on her hips as she considered her brother's words. "Oh, that Evgeni. Hm, are we paying him a visit, or is he coming to us?" It was an honest question, and she stood at the edge of his office door, poised to leave while she waited for a response. He waved a hand airily about his head, dismissing her. "If he doesn't come to us, I'll send you and Tucker to pay him a visit later this week. Begone, I've work to do, Ksenia." With that, his attention was once again diverted to the computer screen in front of him, fingers clacking against the keys as he typed out a message to Tucker, detailing him on the discussion to be handled with Evgeni, should he appear that day of his own accord or be forcibly retrieved at a later date. By the time his message had been sent, Ksenia was already long gone, on her way to pay the legal department a visit before her brother came up with another mindless task for her to be prepared for. What she wouldn't give to be the one in charge, to set her own rules instead of being forced to follow her brother's... "Rinaldi!" "Hm?" When Ksenia reached her destination, barking the man's name, he looked up with mild curiosity, a brow risen in bemusement. "What can I do for you, Kenzie?" "Mikhail said some Evgeni dude was being released today - who is he, what was he in for, how long was he in for, and why does his release matter to me?" She perched on the edge of the desk, looking like a petulant child being taunted with a dessert, yet not allowed to eat it. Her annoyance brought a chuckle from Jackson, and he leaned back in his seat, clasping his hands over his belly while a smile grew across his lips. "Evgeni was released today, that is true. We had Sven give him a hand when he was getting into trouble on the inside. He was in for... I believe it was eight years, though I could be incorrect, for something regarding drugs - if memory serves." Jackson started, Italian accent thick as he rambled on, feeding the girl the little bits of information that he was privy to. "He owes us a favor, and I believe your brother has come up with an apt way for him to pay us back. I'm unaware of the plans. My guess is that if you want more information, Kenz, you'll have to get it out of Tuck." A shrug ran across his shoulders, the expression on Ksenia's face doing little to change his demeanor. "Fine, I'm off to find Tucker." "He has Madelaine with him, today. I believe they're in his office." "Maddie's here and no one bothered to tell me?" That had her hopping to her feet, excitement spreading across her angled features. It had been a long while since she had seen her niece, the situation more complicated than she was willing to consider. "Ksenia?" "Hm?" "Aren't you forgetting something?" "Oh, right. Sorry, Jack-o. I'm a little frazzled, today." Smile still in place, she leaned down to give the man a kiss upon his lips before she darted out of the room, off to find yet another man in the God-forsaken company that would, perhaps, give her some answers. |
HISTORICAL
When Mikhail had originally told him of his odd request, he had thought nothing of it. It was not unusual for his Comrade to give him strange orders and he to agree or carry them out with a simple shrug of his shoulders. For all the mess and destruction Mikhail could cause, he was family to him, and he stuck by him through thick and thin. It was a loyalty that ran as deep as brotherhood. However, the more he thought upon it and the connotations that came along with it, he had grown more and more embarrassed as time passed by. It was only under Mikhail's heavy-handed insistence did he believe that this particular scheme would make his life easier, not more difficult and complicated.
While he was not a particularly romantic man, that did not mean he was interested in being married simply for the sake of being married. He had agreed to come to America under the guise of taking the role of the Romanov family's bodyguard, and nothing more. There had been no talk of marrying a woman of the country, too! Yet as was his way, Mikhail had weaseled and wormed his way into getting exactly what he wanted with little to no resistance through logic and a compelling plan. It would seem as though the man’s need for power and control of every aspect of his life was growing near insatiable with no heed for the consequences to undoubtedly come. Admittedly, he brought up a fair argument. It would indeed be nice to have someone to cook, to clean, and to do his laundry for him. It would be nice to have a soft, warm body to lie with at night. There were certain aspects to this deal that even he could not disagree with, certain perks that Mikhail had been sure to point out and exploit, twisting his arm until he agreed, still unsure, to the master plan. But oh, the embarrassment that came along with it, especially when he had learned of Mikhail’s recruiting plan. With the help of both Vera and Ksenia, a letter had been written to the local newspaper with the prospect of a man needing a woman, a traveling companion, as he left for the West in hopes of making a life for himself on the opposite coast. It would not have been so terrible, really, if he had not known that Ksenia had aided in writing the request. The knowledge that the youngest Romanov had helped had made him blush red as an apple, and Rosco had mocked him for the subsequent day and a half following it, at least! He had grown up as Kenzie’s bodyguard since he was a teen, keeping an eye on the littlest treasure to the family that had taken him in when he had been young and alone. Had Rosco and Vera not taken him in when Mikhail was still young, he would have surely died in the cold, and he had those two to thank for his life. He hadn’t been told of what was in the letter sent to the papers, though it wasn’t as if he would have been able to read it if he had been handed it. Russian was his native tongue and he had never bothered to learn another language. He had never expected to leave Russia, and he had certainly never expected that one day he would be living in America with the rest of what he liked to refer to as his adopted family. “Sven! Sven, comrade, we’ve gotten you a woman!” Mikhail walked into the living room with a wide smile on his face, waving a letter above his head with a self-satisfied smirk upon his lips. “We’ve had plenty of offers, but this one is the cream of the crop, mate!” He exclaimed, folding himself onto the couch where the great bear of a man was calmly knitting a blanket, nodding along as his friend spoke. “This one, this is the one I was waiting for you! She’s a good pick, and I did a little research on her family... She’s practically nobility! Must be awful bored, if she’s willing to marry herself away just for a chance of adventure..." He added, tapping a finger against his chin in thought. The smile had yet to leave Mikhail’s face, and it was obvious that he was rather pleased with the way his plan was panning out. “What is she like?” The question was simple enough, and Sven put the knitting needles down in his lap to give his friend his full, undivided attention. “Her name is Cadence Beckett... Would you like me to read you her response verbatim, or shall I give you a summary?” “Summarize it.” “She’s a young woman looking to go out West. She seeks adventure, and you’re going to give it to her, my friend. She’s willing to marry so that she has an escort to take her to where she wants to be. It sounds like she’d like to get away from here, though I don’t know the story behind it. I’m looking into it.” Mikhail answered, scanning through the letter in his hands and relaying the most important parts of it to the man at his side. Sven gave another nod, picking up his knitting once more to calm his nerves. “A young woman should not be tied down to a man she does not love.” “No! Don’t you dare back out on me now, comrade! Mom already wrote a reply, we’re going to meet her in two days time and you two will be signing papers at the courthouse.” Mikhail answered, standing up and shaking his finger at his friend. The look of consternation on Sven’s face had bushy brows furrowing, and he returned to furiously knitting his blanket, saying not a word at Mikhail left the room. He had a lot to think on and consider. What if she found him repulsive? He may have been a great bear of a man, but he was a gentle giant... MYTHOLOGICAL
The battle had been hot, it had been bloody, and it had been fast. It had been everything she'd wanted it to be. Even though they hadn't moved forward as planned, the battle marked a victory, in her book. They had defeated many of the King's soldiers and solidified their stance. On the next battle, they would conquer. That was what they needed.
As they sailed back home, Adrienne stood at the helm of the ship, wind whipping dark hair about her face. Blood stained her armor, the blood of those that she had slain in battle, and she stood rigid, back to the dead and the prisoners behind her. Her helmet lay at her feet, rolling like the waves beneath them. She scooped it up the moment they hit the shore, tucking it beneath her arm as she stepped onto the sand. The waves crashed at her calves as she smiled, voice booming across the humble village as she drew her sword, hoisting it into the air. "Today has been a victory!" She called out, sloshing through the water to the shore and stopping as she met the edge of the village. Behind her, the others jumped off into the water, yelling and cheering, chanting and whooping. They agreed, and Adrienne laughed, head tilting back. Sucking in a deep breath, she turned to her second in command, feeling his strong presence next to her. In his hand, he held the head of the commander of the King's army. Together, without needing to say a word to each other, they moved forward as one. An offering to the Jarl, to secure their good fortune. Proof that they had done the job he'd expected of them. With the head left at his feet, Addi turned away, back toward the raucous laughter and singing that had started toward the middle of the settlement. Ahead, ale was passed and stories had already begun to be told. With a clap on the back, Adrienne wordlessly bid her companion farewell, splitting off in the interest of leaving to locate her prize of battle. She could use a slave to help her remove her armor and clean the blood from her back. He could sharpen her blade and attend to the chores required to maintain her home. Perhaps, he could even be trained to help her braid her hair. Vain as she was, it wasn't a task that was meant to be taken lightly. Laughing to herself at the thought, she moved back toward the shoreline, scanning those being brought ashore with vague interest. Their own dead were laid out in the sand, awaiting the warrior's send-off they would receive later that night. She would never be there in person, but she would always see to it that her brethren found their home in Valhalla. Shaking her head to stave off the thought of the dead, of what she'd lost, she scanned the men once more. There, released from his bonds, was her prize. The smile on her lips turned twisted as she splashed forward, rolling her shoulders. "I will take him from here. I have plans for this one." She eyed him up and down, her dirtied armor still glinting in the dying light of the sunset. It turned black orange, but she hardly noticed it. Reaching forward, she grabbed for the wrist of the man she'd felled earlier that day, dragging him forward. He might have been large, but she was not intimidated by the height and weight he had above her. There were benefits to her position, and she had never once lost a battle or a fight that she had entered into on her own. A brilliant tactician, a brilliant mind -- she was always one step ahead and never out of her league. As was the way of her kind. The smirk still across her lips, Adrienne moved forward, back toward her own tent, the place she called home. There, she would remove the armor and the blood of battle before returning to the festivities. Vanity manifested in many forms... "Come, I require your aid. Do you understand my words?" |