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Post by Amber Sablier on Apr 28, 2016 22:30:16 GMT -6
| ❝ | At a glance, we both were falling for this world, enchanted by its light. Could this be the place we finally belong? For all of humanity, I will take the stage alone, and somehow manifest a roaring symphony. We were born for flight before the light of the dawn.
Thread Date: 07/19 | ❞ |
Tick...tock...tick...tock...
Blue eyes scanned the finish of the recently repaired grandfather clock that sat in the grand foyer of Rift Palace. It was a rhythmic sound, one which caused the curious girl watching it to sway in place in a sort of dance. For Amberleigh to say she was zoning out, at this point, would be a complete understatement. Her eyes almost glossed over in the trance, her head bobbed tiredly. Hypnosis would definitely have to be something she worked on resisting, especially if she was going to be a Huntress some day. The heavy thud of boots from across the room was just loud enough to snap Amber back to reality, blinking curiously as she turned her head to see who was moving towards her.
It was a man, a little over a foot taller than her, of large build and dark, rugged features. The man was none other than Sir Cullen, her father’s most trusted and one of the highest ranking Huntsman in the Kingdom of Rift. He had been through many years of intense training and even more of violent experience combating the creatures of Grimm. If anyone was sure to be the subject of great fables in the future, it was him. Amberleigh looked up to Cullen, often wondering if such a future hunting would be possible for her. The renown, the respect, the sort of things that were earned instead of handed to you. That’s what Amber wanted - to be recognized for the things she did, not who she was.
Unfortunately, it would be the wishes of her father that would keep her from realizing that dream. Though she knew he meant well, Amber was never able to completely pinpoint why it was she had been forbidden from studying in the use of Aura - and by extension the very foundation of what would be needed to survive beyond the walls of Rift. Sometimes it was disconcerting, but even in the darkness, there were slivers of light. Mother would often reassure her, saying that if becoming a Huntress is meant to happen, then it surely will. Of course, there was always that part of Amberleigh that would always take that reassurance as a nicer way of saying “give up”, and to her, that wasn’t an option.
Lost in thought, Amber had somehow ignored Cullen’s presence, leading to the large man coughing into a closed fist. Amber eventually shook out of her daze, and her eyes crept up to look him in the eyes. “Hello there, Mr. Cullen,” she said with an embarrassed smile, “Just admiring the clock now that it’s all finished up and in immaculate condition! Care to join me?”
Crossing his arms, Cullen scratched his messy beard and glanced over at the clock. There his eyes lingered for a moment, a smile slowly working its way across his face before his attention returned to Amberleigh. “It’s always been a fine clock,” he said with a sarcastic chuckle, “Until it eventually breaks again. It’s one of those things that seems to happen just because it’s supposed to, just like-”
“Destiny?” Amber interrupted.
“I guess ‘destiny’ works, too,” Cullen replied, shrugging his shoulders slightly, “But I was going to say something more along the lines of ‘like a piece of sh-’ ”
“Sir Cullen! Don’t speak like that in the foyer, you have no idea who might be listening!” Amberleigh interrupted once again, her tone of voice noticeably sarcastic to match his own. Ever since she was a little girl, the leader of the Royal Guard had grown to be something like an uncle to her. He had been friends with her father ever since the two were boys, at one point he even competed for her mother’s affection. It was old history, but it helped to have people that saw a side of the Sablier family that no one else did. They were friends, or at least it seemed that way.
The two laughed for a moment before Cullen reached out and ruffled up her hair. “Anyways, kiddo, it’s time you started getting ready for the night. After all, the Festival of the Mount is a big deal, wouldn’t want to let mum and pop down now, would we?” He said, crossing his arms in an exaggerated matter-of-fact manner.
Amber’s eyes rolled as she released a bored groan. “Do I really have to? I don’t like any of the people that show up, the spectators all look at me weird, and I can’t take this!” She whined, holding up the small bulb fastened to the string around her neck. “I like having it around. Helps me whenever I’m in a jam and all that fun stuff. You know, turning invisible and all that cool stuff you can do with Aura.”
Cullen’s hand gingerly held the bulb, his eyes scrutinizing every little detail of the contraption. A device from an age modern man had all but forgotten was all he saw. Releasing the bulb, he shook his head and glared at her with a slight degree of disappointment. “I know you want to study Aura and be a Huntress, Amber, but you can’t and you know it. Your father has made it very clear, he thinks it’s too dangerous for you, and for what it’s worth so do I,” He said, sternly tapping his boot. “People are out there fighting and dying every minute of every day at the hands of those monsters out there. Let the Grimm stay a story to you, Amber. For your own good. The world is a much different place when the monsters are real.”
As he turned his back and started walking away, Amber took the opportunity to cross her arms with a defiant huff and stick her tongue out at him, and she knew that he knew she did it. It had, after all, become somewhat customary. Once Cullen had excused himself, her expression shifted from being one of frustration to one of disappointment. She was sure that, at some point, she would begin feeling angry too. This always happened whenever the ban on her studies came up. No one knew how important all this actually was to her, and to make matters even worse, it seemed like many of them didn’t care. They were fine with things as they were, complacent to a fault, and it drove Amberleigh mad. She wanted to see the world.
She wanted to chance the world.
With a displeased huff, Amberleigh made her way to her room, instantly making her way to the window. From her vantage point, she could see the city coming to life as it prepared for the festival, each and every person playing their part as intended. As always, it would be a magnificent event, but something about today felt a little different. Her mind kept trying to drift back to the large clock, ticking and tocking until its predetermined time to break down came once again. No matter how hard Amber’s father tried to repair the clock, destiny had decided it was time for the device to die. It was a chaotic and intimate relationship. It was destiny. As the word began picking at the depths of her mind, Amberleigh went to work on a sketch in her notebooks.
Maybe she'd have to go through with the plans tonight. |
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Post by Altimeda Fontine on Apr 29, 2016 3:36:07 GMT -6
I'mma win it! 466 | Tick, tock, tick, tock...
The minutes passed in silence, Altimeda eagerly checking his watch every few minutes. If he were to be on time, he was going to have to cut it close; the accelerated twitched down a pinch under his foot and the car began to accelerate. If he was going to this festival, he was going to make it on time for karaoke. Neither hell nor high water would keep him from that stage this night.
—
The streets of Rift had become festival grounds, streets cordoned off in many places to be filled with stalls, carts, and kiosks and to let the faire-goers peruse without fear of being run over by a wandering car. Altimeda's own car was parked some blocks away, safely locked up and a convenient place of the bulk of Resolhorsen to sit. His signature green cloak had been turned inside-out, now a mottled gray that matched with the environment, and he hitched it about himself to ward off the dim chill that had set in. He likely would not notice it once his blood got pumping and he lost himself in the atmosphere of the fair, but for the moment, he was thankful for its presence.
Under that cloak lay a hand-crafted sheath bearing a peculiar looking sword. The clapper ring was round as intended, but served as a cross-guard fro the teardrop-shaped hilt that flowed downwards, looking all the part like the hanging pendulum inside a bell. That its shaft was a carefully crafted blade was no one's business but his own. It would take a great deal more than a fair to make him leave his kit on the sidelines.
Off he went, though, circulating through the grounds and eventually finding the great stage, empty now but in the preparatory stages if he guessed right by the crew milling about. Speakers and stands and screens were being toted from underneath to the top, and Altimeda could not help but get excited to make a fool of himself in front of his sisters. They would be milling about the fairgrounds in a few hours' time, and Altimeda intended to be well warmed up by the time they arrived.
In the interim, he contented himself with spending some Lien on the amenities. A drink was purchased, and as the Huntsman walked about, he set his eyes on the prizes he meant to leave with: A polished silver flask with the Rift logo on it for Mae, and a blown-glass rose for Melanine. The games they were won from were undoubtedly simple, but also undoubtedly rigged, so Altimeda set his keen eyes to studying, quite aware that he was making a children's game no fun at all but uncaring of the notion. A prize for his sisters was no playful matter!
Altimeda Fontine |
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Post by Amber Sablier on Apr 29, 2016 13:28:09 GMT -6
| ❝ | At a glance, we both were falling for this world, enchanted by its light. Could this be the place we finally belong? For all of humanity, I will take the stage alone, and somehow manifest a roaring symphony. We were born for flight before the light of the dawn. | ❞ |
Over the course of about half an hour, Amber’s notebook had gone from being completely blank to being filled with various doodles. Some of them were of monsters, meant to reflect what she believed the creatures of Grimm might look like. Horrid beasts, black and twisted in form, unlike any creature she had ever seen before. Other drawings were of outfit designs, ones she often fantasized of wearing if she was a Huntress. The one she was currently at work on was certainly her favorite, and was arguably the most practical of them. It was leather, at least according to her drawing, and was fitted with metal plates for added protection. As she finished the drawing, she brushed off the pencil dust and bits of eraser that peppered the surface.
“Excellent!” She chimed, holding the drawing up into the light coming in through the window. For a moment, Amber sat there and stared at the drawing with a big grin on her face, daydreaming about fighting the Grimm and seeing the rest of Remnant in all its glory. Legion, Pinnacle, Setek - even some parts of Rift. She wanted to see them all, and she was determined to do so. Sighing, she set the drawing down and spun around in the chair, facing her messy bed. Though she was frequently pestered to keep it in tidy shape, Amber always hated making the bed. The mess, at least by her line of reasoning, also helped keep her journal hidden.
Scuffling over to the bed, she lifted up a corner of the mattress and reached an arm underneath. Amber fished around for a few minutes, her hand twisting and squeezing through the beds innards. Eventually she pulled her arm back, a dusty old journal now in hand. Quickly, she rushed back to the desk and dusted the book off before flipping it open. A number of different entries were scattered over the pages, ranging from ranting about her dislike for vegetables to different boys that had caught her fancy in the past. One section of the book had a tab marked “KALULA” in overly decorative letters, with the sight of the tab bringing about a momentary feeling of sadness.
Amberleigh often wondered how her friend was, or if she even remembered her. Perhaps they would see each other again soon? Amber sure hoped so. She spent a few minutes reading back through the notes, occasionally giggling in response to something she read. She moved on, flipping to the back of the journal marked “DA PLANZ” with a big grin on her face. A list of seven different steps was on the very last page, each one essential in the success of the next. The first? Cut her hair. It was one of those things she knew she was going to have a difficult time with, especially with how much care she had taken to grow the damned stuff to its length in the first place. Pulling the long ponytail over her shoulder, she possessively stroked her hair and whimpered.
A loud and sudden knock startled her, and in a panic she quickly smacked the journal off her desk and sent it skidding across her room and under the bed as the door opened. It was her father, dressed in a ceremonial uniform for the party taking place when the Festival began. A lump formed in her throat and, for a second, Amberleigh felt like she couldn’t breathe. “Y-yes, father?” She asked, her voice noticeably shaking.
“I just wanted to poke my head in and see if you were getting ready for the Festival,” he said, a look of frustration on his face as his eyes scanned the mess in her room. “I can see, however, that this is not the case.” As he entered the room, he took an extra second to look around at the rest of the room, shaking his head at the mess that was her bed. “Amber, I understand you hate doing things like this, but I need you to work with your mother and I on this, okay?” He added, turning his attention to the dress neatly displayed on a mannequin for her to change in to. It was similar to the one worn her mother would be wearing that night. It was beautiful, and Amberleigh would not deny that, but still...
She just didn’t want to wear it.
Before she could process anything else, her father was standing next to her, looking out the window she had spent the last half hour in front of. There was a slight smile on his face, something she hadn’t seen in some time. A smile of her own eventually grew as she looked out the window too, leaning forward and resting her head in her hands. “It’s going to be a beautiful festival, dad, you should be proud of it this year.” Amber said, her voice just a little quieter than usual. She knew that his personal guard were outside, so speaking quiet was the only way the two of them could talk without being listened in on. Kneeling down next to her, he took her arm by the wrist as he pulled a gold bangle from his breast pocket.
“This belonged to your grandmother,” he said in an equally quiet tone, fastening it around her forearm. “She asked me to give it to you after you turned twenty one. A ‘coming of age’ gift or something of the sort, I guess.” He chuckled as he gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder, smiling. “I’m proud of you, you know. It’s not easy needing to meet all the expectations people have for someone in your position, but you’re handling it pretty well, even with the bumps we've been dealing with along the way.” He added, standing and turning to the door. “Just make sure you’re ready on time for tonight, okay? No shenanigans or your usual hijinks. Promise me that.”
As her father left the room, Amber’s expression changed from a smile to a frown as her eyes drifted to the dress. Sighing loudly, she grabbed scissors from the drawer in her desk and made her way to the bathroom through the lone white door nearby. |
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Post by Altimeda Fontine on May 2, 2016 15:01:56 GMT -6
— 305 | A pair of bags dangled from Altimeda's fingers as he strode away from the vendors. The first game had been rigged, he knew, based on nothing but luck and repetition. That stall had stolen a fair number of cards from him as he sorted through what ducks had had no symbols on their bottoms, but a lucky pull had saved him from failure and his rose had been acquired. Shooting a red star out of a paper card was a cakewalk in comparison, and that particular stall keeper had only one try's worth of time to ogle the sword at Altimeda's hip before he strode off with a flask in hand.
The Huntsman took a trip back to his car to deposit the fragile rose in the passenger seat and toss the flask in the glove box. Then it was back to the grounds. His trip back was spent in quiet contemplation; this year's Festival of the Mount was uniquely extravagant, no expense spared in any of the decorations, staff, or amenities, but somehow, it felt hollow, empty, as if there was a lingering void within the festival's machinations that left him unsure of the events to transpire that night. It was a fleeting notion, certainly, but even once it had been washed away by the crowds and music and smells of food, its seeds still wormed their way down into Altimeda's mind.
He brushed it off, finally, dismissing it as overly dramatic ramblings of his overworked mind. It took him a moment to find a quiet spot on the grounds, but once he did, he felt better almost immediately. Only a few minutes remained, now, before the stage's lights would be up and lit. Aeenmae and Melanine were undoubtedly strolling about the grounds towards the stage already. His moment was coming, and his excitement was brewing.
Altimeda Fontine |
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Post by Engram on May 2, 2016 23:58:01 GMT -6
| ❝ | At a glance, we both were falling for this world, enchanted by its light. Could this be the place we finally belong? For all of humanity, I will take the stage alone, and somehow manifest a roaring symphony. We were born for flight before the light of the dawn. | ❞ |
How long had it been? Minutes? Hours, maybe? Amber had no idea how much time had passed as she viciously began cutting at her hair. A part of her wept a little on the inside, saddened by the fact that she had been driven to such lengths just to get away from this...life, if it could even be called that. She felt like a prisoner in her own home. The more that thought lingered in her mind, the more she began to feel better about what she was doing. This was her ticket out of here. If people didn’t recognize her, it’d be easy for her to just slip away, and everyone knew her for her long hair. As she cut away, it became more and more obvious that she’d have to take it much shorter than she expected. With a reluctant sigh, she continued.
Eventually, Amber set down the scissors and observed herself in the mirror for a moment, making sure her work was nice and even. The hair that once flowed down to her ankles now rested just a little below her shoulders, and her bangs were now much more even when compared to how they were before. While initially a little shaken up by the sight, even to the point of trembling, Amber eventually calmed down and smiled at herself in the mirror, reaching forward and touching the reflection of her face. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all? She looked at the blue ribbon that was set neatly on the counter before her, and for a time, she found herself at an impasse. What was she going to do with it?
She couldn’t just get rid of it...
Taking the ribbon, she quickly cut a small portion off and looked at the pieces for a moment. With the small piece in hand, she tied her hair up into a messy ponytail and observed herself once more, smiling much more than she had a moment ago. This was exactly what she was shooting for! Almost in a blur, Amber zoomed out of the bathroom and to her bed, pulling a large lockbox out from underneath. Though people had inquired on the contents in the past, Amber never spilled the beans and kept the details secret. Opening the box, she observed the clothing that was hidden within - very plain, like that of a commoner. The next part of her plan: ditch the girly clothes! After a couple minutes of wrestling with herself, Amber was changed and ready to go, dressed in a baggy tunic and ragged brown pants that cut off mid-calves.
She certainly looked like a commoner.
Throwing a few extra things into a backpack and donning a hooded cloak, Amber poked her head out of her room for any signs of the guards. All was clear, for now. They were all probably busy preparing for the festival, right? Sneaking quietly, Amber kept her head on a constant swivel, keeping her eyes open for anyone that could compromise her escape. As she neared the closest exit, a door swung open, and the Royal Guard blacksmith wandered into the halls carrying something wrapped in a cloth. Was it a weapon? Amber’s eye twitched slightly as she realized how dumb she had been - how was she going to fight the monsters out there without a weapon? She had no materials to build her own at this point, leaving stealing whatever the smith had her only option. She felt a little ashamed of that fact and closed her eyes as she prepared herself.
With a loud shout, she threw her backpack at the man, sending him falling backward and the wrapped object flying into the air and towards the door. As quickly as she could, Amber leaped forward, stepping on the man’s face to get the extra boost she needed to reach the presumed weapon. She was a little surprised by how well this was all going. That is until she felt a firm hand grip her ankle. With a shrill scream, Amber fell face first onto the floor, and the weapon flopped onto the floor. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing here, kid?” The man snapped loudly, “Guards, quick! There’s a bloody thief in the palace!” The words made Amber’s blood run cold.
Th-...thief?
Jumping onto her feet as fast as she could, Amberleigh snatched up the wrapped object and her backpack, bolting out of the door and into the massive crowd of people gathering for the festival. She had to get out. She had to! “Run, Amber, run!” She told herself quietly, “Run as fast as you can and don’t look back!” And she did just that. So fast, in fact, that dodging the crowd was incredibly hard. Between the people and the sound of her heart hammering as hard as it could, it was almost impossible for her to make out much more. There were times when she could swear she heard absolute nothingness, leave for an occasional dull hum. So much was going on that she didn’t realize the dark haired man that had just walked out in front of her.
With a loud “OOMF!” she ran into the man, falling backward and landing on the ground with a thud. “Oh c-crap, I’m sorry, sir!” She said, looking up at him with what could only be described as fear. In the distance, she could hear shouting. It was the guards. They were looking for her. Now what? Looking around in a fit of panic, her eyes shot up to the man she had just ran into, the look was one best described a begging - for help.
“P-please, mister. Help me...” |
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Post by Altimeda Fontine on May 3, 2016 0:57:40 GMT -6
We'll make the Great Escape 836 | Altimeda flipped his scroll closed for what seemed like the hundredth time, a tinge of frustration lingering on his face. Mae and Mel had not contacted him, and though he trusted them to be safe, he had now been usurped by some painted harlot that thought she could sing. She was popular with the crowd, but the grumbling Huntsman attributed that to her short skirt, low-cut top, and pretty face more than to her voice. It was like listening to glass shattering against an infant's skull, and every passing second made him want to depart more than the last. The only thing that kept him there was the promised presence of his younger sisters, but even that was beginning to wear thin. He shook his head, moving to grab his scroll again to inform them he was leaving when his instincts perked up: Someone was approaching him, fast.
He kicked a foot back and crossed his arms over his stomach as the girl bounced off of him, landing squarely on her butt in the grass in front of him. Typical street wear and an amateur haircut sat about a young Riftan girl who stared up at him with desperation floating in her ocean eyes. Somehow, she looked familiar, violet hair pulling at the strings of his memory like a siren's taunting wail. He tried to place her for a moment before he glanced upwards at the oncoming guards; all at once, the information crashed home. That hair color was the same as the royal family's young daughter, though it was always renowned for being markedly longer. Altimeda's eyes flitted down to fill in the details, mentally extending her hair in his head and painting a gown over her shirt and pants. All doubt left his mind; this was Amberleigh Sablier.
Thoughts flashed through his mind at light speed. What was she doing here? Why was she running? And why is it that her own guards were chasing her? That bundle in her arms reeked of a weapon, a sword. Did she steal it? Why? Obviously the castle staff did not want her leaving, so she was running away. What interest did she have in abandoning the lap of luxury, and why did she steal a sword before doing so?
The guards were closing in, and Altimeda crammed his speculation to the back of his mind. He was not sure when he had decided that the girl was to be helped in her escape, but his instincts had taken over and his hand was already moving to shroud his face in the gray hood of his cloak. The guards were already at a full sprint, and he would not have time to get her up off the ground and moving before they reached her, so slowing them down was a must. Fingers pinched between his lips, he let out a deep whistle, seemingly far too deep to be made by human lips. The air distorted in front of him, and though the Tone's effect was dulled, it was enough power to create a wedge of pressure that extended up from the ground nearly a foot. While Altimeda bent hastily to snatch Amber's arm and haul her to her feet, the first in line of the guards was busy toppling over an invisible wedge of pressure and taking down another of his friends.
"Pardon me, lady Sablier," he said properly, serving the dual purpose of letting her know he knew who she was and apologizing for his following action, which was to say that he bent low and scooped her legs out from under her. Thankfully she was not wearing the typical dresses and skirts of her position, else the bridal carry would have shown off more than she was likely comfortable with.
Focusing his Aura to his arms, Amber's weight became almost negligible and allowed him to run at his full clip. Weaving between people was a touch more difficult with her in his arms, but the edge of the fair grounds came quickly and his path became much clearer. A small number of guards tried to stay on his tail, but they found themselves hard-pressed to keep up with a decades-old Aura user who had set his mind to a task. The crowds faded and Altimeda slowed, letting Amber down to walk on her own as they reached the parking lot. He was lightly winded, but he kept moving, gesturing to her to follow him as he scanned through the sea of cars to find his own.
"You can explain once we get in the car," he chirped, a distinct note of Dad Voice in his words. "Should be... Yep." Finally finding the dark green sedan, he moved to her side and opened the passenger side door, leaning in to move the glass rose to the dashboard before he stood and offered her the seat. "Which I suggest doing quickly," he added, "'cause it won't be long before your friends show up here looking for you."
Altimeda Fontine |
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Post by Amber Sablier on May 3, 2016 11:06:23 GMT -6
| ❝ | At a glance, we both were falling for this world, enchanted by its light. Could this be the place we finally belong? For all of humanity, I will take the stage alone, and somehow manifest a roaring symphony. We were born for flight before the light of the dawn. | ❞ |
Amber watched with what could best be described as a mix of fear and awe as the man did something with his lips. Something about it seemed...odd. She started to feel the pressure not far behind her shift, startling her and resulting in a quiet gasp. Was this a Semblance? Was this this man’s Semblance? Her thoughts were cut off by the man suddenly grabbing her arm and pulling her up to her feet. Behind her, she could hear the commotion as the guards began falling over some invisible force. She glanced back quickly at the ruckus before her eyes returned to the man, and her breathing began to speed up as she entered a slight fit of anxiety. What if this was a mistake? What if this man would bring harm to her? Stupid, stupid Amber! She chided herself, trying to regain her bearings in all the excitement.
The unexpected use of her surname was a little startling in its own right. How did he recognize her so easily? Was it possible that her disguise was seen through so...effortlessly? At this point, she had a couple options, either fess up when she had the chance or play dumb. Either one had its potential risks, but Amber knew only one of options was the correct one. Holding tightly onto the wrapped weapon, she was suddenly lifted off her feet. Amber thought every urge she had to flail and cry for help but kept herself quiet in order to prevent drawing further attention to the two of them. With the guards toppling over nothing, they were sure to catch unwanted eyes. Keeping one arm looped around what was probably a sword, Amber threw her free arm around the man’s shoulders in an effort to distribute her weight a little better.
Anything to help, right?
As the man began running through the crowd, Amber’s eyes scanned the ground of the Festival, ensuring they didn’t run into any guards that might be lingering in the mess of people around them. Whoever this man was, he seemed pretty light on his feet, weaving through the mob with what seemed like little effort. Still, having her up this way had to present its own difficulties. Amber only hoped this wasn’t too much trouble, and hopefully, there would be no repercussions he’d face in the seemingly unlikely case they were caught. As the outer area of the crowd began to dissipate, Amber was let down, stumbling slightly as she tried to process everything that had just happened. H-had her plan worked? Was she...
Was she free?
The man motioned for her to follow him, and while it didn’t sound like a good idea at first, Amber nodded and followed. He had, after all, saved her from the guards. Not only that, he helped her get out of the Festival crowd. These were two huge steps in her plan to get out and see the world and combat the beasts of Grimm. She was a little naive in that respect, but she wasn’t going to let herself sit and rot in a palace all her life. Remnant was a big world, and she was intent on seeing as much of it as she could. She noticed the man had grown a little tired, no doubt from running and carrying her at the same time. Perhaps his feat had not been as effortless as she initially thought. The thought made her feel a little bad, even frowning slightly as the two moved through the horde of cars before them.
A familiar father-like tone could be heard in his voice, a tone that almost made her cringe. God, what had she gotten herself into? Hopefully, this guy wasn’t as overbearing as her dad. Finding the green car, she shuffled over to it as fast as she could while following the man. As soon as she was offered the passenger seat, she hopped into the car as quickly as she could and threw the seat belt over her shoulder, fastening it with a loud click. She sat there for a little while, breathing erratically as she did everything she could to calm down. There was just too much adrenaline pumping through her veins. Had she not said a word since this all started? The man must have thought she was broken or something.
She shuffled timidly in the seat, looking around the car for anything that could help her uncover the man’s identity. She had seen a glass rose before she entered the car, perhaps that was something? She didn’t want to rummage through his things, however, as that would be rude. Instead, Amberleigh sat there in silence, thinking about what she was going to say to this man when he entered the vehicle. Her eyes shifted to the wrapped object in her arms, and for the first time since taking it her curiosity got the best of her. Firmly gripping one of the thin rope ties that wrapped coiled around the object, she undid the tie and tugged away at the canvas-like material that covered it.
Her blood almost ran cold as her eyes drifted over the form of a very familiar sword.
“I-it’s the...the Hound...” She said in an audible whimper. Thoughts began racing through her mind once more, and for a moment Amber thought she might even faint.
She had stolen Cullen’s sword. |
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Post by Altimeda Fontine on May 3, 2016 12:09:56 GMT -6
— 289 | Altimeda swung around the other side of the car and swung into the seat. He sat for a moment, contemplating, before slipping the keys out of his pocket and throwing them in the ignition. He turned the power on, but forwent starting the engine for now; with no idea where he was to be taking her, there was no point in drawing attention to the only running vehicle in the lot and starting their trouble anew.
"S'a fine blade," he commented quietly as the girl unwrapped the steel. "Y'know how to use it?" He knew the answer already by the heart attack look on her face, but getting her talking was step one. Altimeda could not guess what had driven the Sablier heiress to run off from her future—or to steal a weapon along the way—but he could formulate a few guesses. Speculation would have to wait, though. Long years spent with two sisters fifteen years younger than him were about to pay off, it seemed; miss Sablier was obviously in a fragile place right now, and without knowing her personally Altimeda could feel the delicate balance between calming her down and setting her off.
"So what's the deal, kiddo?" he queried, cocking his head and putting an amicable spin in his questions. "I've only seen ya on TV and in the news before, never really expected to cross paths with ya like this." He offered her a quirky smile before twisting in his seat to face her. It was a strange back and forth, but one he hoped would end with her avoiding a nervous breakdown in his passenger seat. "Seems like a trick and a half for a princess to run away from home, yeah?"
Altimeda Fontine |
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Post by Amber Sablier on May 4, 2016 11:21:26 GMT -6
| ❝ | At a glance, we both were falling for this world, enchanted by its light. Could this be the place we finally belong? For all of humanity, I will take the stage alone, and somehow manifest a roaring symphony. We were born for flight before the light of the dawn. | ❞ |
The click of the driver’s side door was enough to startle Amber out of her daze, and her head whipped quickly to see the man that had helped her enter the vehicle. She shuffled uncomfortably for a second before returning her attention to the sword. As the man put the keys in the ignition, Amber waited for the familiar sound of the car starting up - but there was nothing. A little surprised by this, she turned back to look at the man with a puzzled expression. Was something wrong? Maybe she had done something she wasn’t supposed to, or maybe the very worst possibility was coming true? Oh god, no. Was he a creep? A nonexistent lump formed in Amber’s throat as she panicked slightly, but she calmed down almost immediately when the man began talking.
This wasn’t how she imagined the sound of a bad person’s voice, but then again, what did she know?
He was right, though, the Hound was a very fine blade. Cullen’s weapon for as long as he had served the family, it was a peculiar sort that she had never seen before. Roughly forty-five inches all together, the sword was a little less than a foot and a half shorter than she was. A trigger was present on the sword's hilt, part of the firing mechanism she had watched the man use many times during training drills or ceremonial displays. In the hands of an experienced Hunter, it would surely be a powerful tool for combating the Grimm. She finally nodded in response to the man’s comment but shook her head to his follow-up question. “It’s a fine blade, indeed,” she commented, “Unfortunately, I do not know how to use it. I...I’ve never been trained to use a sword or fight...”
She knew he was going to ask what was going on next. Why wouldn’t he?
Her disguise being seen through so easily was something that made her a little uncomfortable, but she figured it a result of something not quite so obvious to her. Maybe a small detail she hadn’t considered? She shrugged it off, instead deciding she should be honest with the man in hopes that he wouldn’t take advantage of the situation. Removing the hood, she fidgeted for a moment to remove the cloak she had been wearing and turned towards the man in a similar fashion to how he had, now facing him. “The deal is...I just don’t want to be locked up in a palace all my life, you know what I mean?” She said, clenching her fists with frustration. “All I’ve wanted, ever since I was young, was to be a Huntress.”
As Amber fought back a sudden swell of tears, she thought back to those days when she tried to make those dreams come true. “But my father, mother - everyone, really. No one was having it,” her eyes shifted over to the Hound before returning to the man. “So I decided that I was just going to leave. Run away and see the world, fight the Grimm, all of that. I knew I’d have to do it on my own.” A few stray tears found their way down her face, and she quickly brushed them away with her arm. “Please don’t send me back, sir. I can’t deal with it, you know?” She pleaded, her voice wavering slightly. “Help me get out of Rift, then you can get rid of me and you won’t have to worry about any repercussions or anything - I promise.” |
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Post by Altimeda Fontine on May 6, 2016 17:50:16 GMT -6
Mobile post! -- | Altimeda pondered her words for some seconds, silence hanging thick in the air as he sorted through his thoughts. "Never to be trained in aura use...?" He could not help but quirk a brow at the notion, genuinely curious as to why anyone would be actively denied training when they so obviously wanted it. If her father had her best interest at heart, he would have been able to understand that, but it seemed that interest was clouded by his own selfishness and concern. Altimeda could feel the latent potential lingering in Amberleigh, and he was not even the most astute observer of the Aural arts that he knew of; if he could feel it, certainly others could as well. And yet it went ignored.
"i don't know where you stand, miss Sablier, but this world is not kind to new huntresses. Training is dark, dangerous. Without a guide." He added that last bit with pointed fixation, letting the words linger. "Tell me, miss Sablier: Do you believe in destiny? Rhetorical question, really. I do, though. I think there's a design somewhere out there, and this meeting certainly suggests I'm right." The huntsman offered the heiress a smile. "My name is Altimeda Fontine. I'm a Grimm researcher, and something of a teacher." He searched her face for any recognition of his name, letting the implication of his station ring as he waited for her response.
It had been a long time since he had taken an apprentice. It was not an idea he was opposed to, in its nature, but the trouble it brought with it was typically not worth the time and baggage.
Altimeda Fontine |
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