Fantasy Skyworld: Age of Sail

Her hands having completed their preliminary triage of A'miel's limbs and body, she looked around to see which would be the safest escape route from the fight. It was at that moment that she came face-to-face with Almira.
“I’m with the Maiden. Are you hurt? Have you seen the others?”
She was visibly injured herself, a wound on her neck oozed blood through the makeshift bandage she'd crafted from her own bandana. She was almost naked from the waist up, her shirt reduced to a sleeveless, crop-top version of itself that exposed far more of her body that it concealed.

Shit. Fucking shit, shit, shit, SHIT!

This was not a scenario Keiko had wanted to happen. She would have been far happier had the pirates selfishly stuck to their own people, leaving her to extract her client without their interference. In her tsuki no jiko semblance, she was more than capable of dispatching such threats that got between her and Lord A'miel's safe departure from the bloodbath in the tavern. But now, this fucking woman was right fucking there fucking that plan all to Hells. Her mission parameters had been laid out specifically at the time of her hiring.

"Do not allow your true self and abilities to become apparent unless failing to do so will emperil Lord A'miel and his plans."

Keiko suppressed the desire to scowl venomously at the woman, but instead she receded back into the darkness of her bifurcate mind, allowing Cecily to return from her enforced slumber. This would be bad for Cecily's psyche, but the mission demanded it.

Light, such as existed in this pokey alehouse, returned. The thick gunsmoke in the air made her eyes burn. The constant retort of blackpowder firearms in close confines made her ears ring alarmingly. The stench of burning sulphur, blood, vomit, stale beer and piss stung her nose. There was a taste of blood in her mouth. Beneath her body, she felt warmth and movement from Lord A'miel's prone form. Her eyes focussed on someone who lurched into view out of the haze of shock she was sinking into.
Cecily didn't remember what happened after she had asked the Altersdale officer for a carriage for her lord, but it was becoming increasingly apparent, something bad had happened. Now she was faced with a woman with beautiful curly hair and.... pointy ears!!! Her addled mind placed the face amongst those of the pirates that had been gambling with the merchant, but the sight of the blood dribbling from the woman's neck and caking her arms from fingertips to elbows made Cecily's eyes go wide with horror.
"BUHHHHH!", she cried, babbling incoherently through her shock, horror, fear and urgent need to express every emotion she was feeling, "LordA'miel,isheokay?Ohgod,you'rebleeding!Areyoudying?Youhavescarsonyourears,howdidthathappen?Wasitsomebizarrepiratepunishmentorhideousdeformity?Idon'twanttodie.PleasehelpLordA'miel,I'mscared.Idon'tknowwhattodo,I'mjustamaidservant.Pleasehelpmegethimtosafety,Icouldn'tliveifhedied.Ohgod,ohgod,ohgod."

(edited as requested by JoUhWrites )

Historia Vinheima​

As Historia opened her eyes, a pleasent smell wafted by her nose. It was like roses, only so much sweeter. A pale red skyscape filled her vision, crimson clouds swirling and dancing across the warm colored sky. Historia sat up and scanned the area. She was sat upon a small island covered in beautiful red flowers. The trunk of a pale tree spiraled upwards and its branches spread out above her. Cherry colored blossoms shaded every part of the small flower covered field. Every part except for the patch of land she found herself sat in. A pale red light escaped through the hole in the foliage, highlighting Historia as she stood shakily to her feet. She looked down at herself and just as she had expected, she was no longer in the clothes she normally wore. Instead she found herself in a beautiful crimson dress that hugged her body. The tight fitting dress certainly wasn't modest, and while it did extend all the way past her ankles, most of the bottom half of the dress was partly see through. The article of clothing accentuated her more feminine curves in a way Historia wasn't quite comfortable with. "Ugh." She commented, holding her arms out and examining the dress with contempt. After a second of examining herself she set her arms back at her side and she took in a deep breath, closing her eyes and steeling her unsteady nerves. It was a lot of pressure, after all. Historia was going to have to perform for the ball, and with that came the responsibility of many lives, including her own. She knew all the steps, of course, but there was always that little voice in her head whispering about how horri-

"HISTY!~" Historia spun around as a voice interrupted her train of thought. She barely had time to comprehend what was going on when the person collided into Historia and knocked her off her feet, sending Historia and the person tumbling into the soft field of flowers below. When Historia opened her eyes, she came face to face wth a head of pink hair much shorter than hers, a pair of bright blue eyes, and a frankly infuriatingly cocky smile. "Gigi?!" Historia exclaimed, feeling her cheeks flush as she stared up at the taller girl atop her.

"Hey baby. Did it hurt when you fell down from heaven?" The other girl responded in a cocky and flirtatious voice that matched that stupidly charming smile. The fluttery feeling that was rising in Historia's chest disappeared the moment the other girl opened her mouth, and Historia sighed.

"Get off of me Georgie. You know you aren't supposed to be in the field anyways." Historia said with irritation, pushing at the other girls shoulders to put some distance between the two. The other girl obliged and stood to her feet, grabbing Historia's hand in her own and helping her up.

"Yeah yeah, sacred ground. Whatever. It really isn't that important. I used to come here all the time, whenever I wore the cloak."

"'Not that important?' You of all people should know how vital it is that only the wielder of the Magistre Cloak is the only person to step foot on this land!" Historia retaliated, crossing her arms across her chest and taking a step towards the taller girl offensively.

"Uh-huh. So vital." Georgie responded with a raised eyebrow, obviously unconvinced.

"it is! This is sacred ground, only to be walked by her greatness and her disciples!"

"Uh-huh."

"Your presence alone is a desecration of her will!"

"Mhm."

"You've insulted her graces! You should be ashamed!"

"Yeah whatever."

"Gigi?"

"Hum~?"

"My eyes are up here."

"I know."

"Gigi."

"..."

"GIGI." Historia finally snapped, sending an open hand across the other girls cheek, forcing Georgie to avert her gaze.

"You are truly insufferable, you know that? I am more than a piece of eye candy for you to gawk at." Historia huffed, glaring at the other girl. Georgie responded by rubbing her chin and winking at Historia.

"I know that. You can be many things and still be eye candy, and I love gawking." She walked past Historia and moved towards the series of floating rocks that connected the flower covered island to the mainland. "C'mon. You can't stay here talking my ear off. Though I sure wish you could." Georgie turned her head and winked to Historia, prompting an annoyed huff and eye roll as the two hopped gracefully from rock to rock, hand in hand. Shortly after, the two pairs of shoes made contact with the carefully crafted brick path of the mainland. They found themselves at the quaint door that served as the performers entrance. The path was flanked by perfectly clipped shrubbery with beautiful white and red flowers intertwined between its leaves. Georgie took Historia's other hand and turned the shorter girl to face her.

"Y'know, Histy, you keep talking about how shameful and insufferable I am, but I bet you don't really think that."

"Baseless and empty assumptions won't sway me, Gigi."

"I ain't trying to sway you Histy. I was just trying to calm your nerves about all this. What you are about to do, I know it can be really scary. It's a lot of pressure, and I hate seeing you stressed out. I would say I put on a pretty good distraction, wouldn'tt you?" Georgie whispered to Historia, smirking confidently. As much as Historia hated to admit it, Georgie was right. All of her worries had completely melted away in the presence of Georgie's hijinks. Historia opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn't think of anything to say in retaliation. For the first time in a long while, she was at a complete loss for words. She felt her cheeks heat up as she saw the recognition of Georgie's face. "Knew it. Knock 'em dead, girl." She leaned in and planted a kiss on Historia's cheek, then turned and walked off, waving bye to Historia as she headed for the building. "I'll see you after the show. Maybe we can do a little 'practice.' I'm sure you're very rusty." Georgie snickered to herself as Historia's whole face flushed red. Historia stammered over her own words in a feeble attempt at formulating a proper response. Before Historia could mange to speak like a normal person, Georgie had already turned the corner and disappeared behind the shrubbery, leaving Historia alone with a beet red face and a fluttery feeling in her stomach. She stood frozen on the crimson lit cobbles and took a moment to steady herself and process what had happened. She shook her head, knowing that she didn't have the time to sit around and daydream, and hurried across the cobbles to the performer's entrance.

SHE​

The man that was keeping her company didn't seem much in a hurry at first, so she decided to simply trek on without him. The soft tapping of her boots echoed through the sparsely crowded streets as she sprinted her way to the looming crimson spiral. It towered above her, its crimson mists reaching up and touching the stormy skies. Grey mixed with red as the spiral of mist mixed with the cloud cover. It came closer and closer as She sprinted towards it until finally she found the source. She slid to a stop behind an abandoned market stall, peeking out at the scene beneath the spiral. It seemed to be a tavern, and judging by the sounds of pistol fire as well as the group of armed men at the entrance, there seemed to be quite the brawl. The smell of fresh blood was palpable in the air, mixing in with the smell of rain and gunpowder. Her eyes narrowed as her breath slowed, and she took the moment to more closely examine the group outside, as well as plan out a course of action. She still had time, after all. The performance had not yet started, so any killing at this point would be pointless. There were six men outside all in uniform and all armed with muskets. Two had sabers at their side, and one had a saber and a revolver. An officer maybe? No, he didn't look it, but then again She was never good with military. She would have to ask him wh-

The sudden stomping of boots pulled her from her thoughts as the man from before lurched forward towards the group of men. He moved surprisingly fast, and she wasn't able to stop him as he ran past her towards the men, axe raised. Dread filled her heart and She lunged forward, stepping out of her spot behind the cart with hand stretched towards the man in a feeble attempt to stop him.

"WAIT DON-!" She cried, but it was too late. She watched in horror as the man ran his axe clean through one of the soldiers. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands as the soldiers torso fell to the ground with a spray of blood. A wispy spirit emerged from the mangled corpse then, after a moment of pointless struggling, faded and disappeared into nothingness. Her heart sank as She watched the mans soul disappear into the void. Then, the sudden realization crashed down into her like a torrent. She LOST one. Because of her, that soldier was gone. She would never be able to get to know him now. His name, his hobbies, his family. Hours of cheery conversation all down the drain as the man's soul disappeared before her eyes. At first there was rage. Rage at the man with the axe, at the disciple up above who was yet to start the dance. Then shame at herself and her own negligence. Finally, desperation. She couldn't save that man, not anymore, but there were still five souls left here. She could still save them! The wave of emotions passed through her in mere milliseconds as she willed herself forward. She drew her sword and charged forwards. The dance may not have started, but she couldn't just sit there idly as the soldiers were slaughtered pointlessly. She had to do something, even if that meant stalling for time.

Historia Vinheima​

Historia's heels echoed through the long, dark halls as the crimson clad girl rushed her way to where she needed to be. Normally, she quite enjoyed the walk to the stage, it was normally full of people bustling about. Historia normally made her way down the hall much earlier, but because of Georgie's meddling, she was going to be late to her own show. Historia cursed the other girl under her breath as she reached the entrance to the stage. The curtain was still closed, and the lights of the stage were very dimmed. She spotted the duke on the other end of the backstage area, glaring at her. At first she thought to speak to him but due to time constraints decided against it. She made her way onto the dimmed stage with haste and took her position. She folded her hands neatly in front of her and looked forward. She took in a breath and held it as the curtains rose. A twinge of fear wormed its way into her quickly beating heart as she looked out upon the dozens of seated onlookers. She could swear she felt her heart beating against her ribcage as she knelt down for a curtsey. Then the music began, and Historia no longer felt the beating of her heart.

The Show Begins (thats a link there)

SHE felt her veins go cold as her heart stopped its rhythmic pumping of blood. Her disciple had committed their soul to She, just as they committed their body just a couple minutes prior. The feeling of rain pelting her exposed face faded into sweet nothingness as She sprinted forwards into the oncoming line of armed soldiers. The darkened sky melted into a creamy mixture of warm reds. A pleasant feeling wormed its way into her heart. A smile formed on her face as she recognized the feeling. Euphoria. In that moment, all the stress and the fear melted away. She was saving people, she had the power and support to help those around her and she was using that power for good. The wonderful feeling of boundless euphoria continued to envelop her as she drew her blade and, having covered the distance between her and the distracted soldier, sunk her steel blade into the side of one of the lower ranking soldiers. He yelled out and contorted in pain, but She slammed her foot down into the back of the mans knee, forcing him to his knees. As he fell, she leaned and whispered into his ear. "It'll all be alright, give your body to me, and I will grant your soul eternal grace." As she spoke, the man froze, staring out into the deluge as the fear and panic faded from his eyes. First it was replaced by a calm acceptance, and then nothing. She slipped her blade out of him as his now lifeless body fell to the ground.

HISTORIA twisted and twirled across the stage as a strong wind began to pick up behind her. The hem of her dress snapped and floated wildly as the wind pushed it to and fro. Historia's body moved with a dainty yet energetic grace as she leapt across the polished wooden stage. Budding roses grew from the timbers themselves as Historia's heels brushed upon the stage. Each gently calculated step caused a garden of rosebuds to sprout beneath her. It wasn't long before the stage was covered in its entirety. The music slowed, and so did Historia. For but a moment she stood still upon the flowers of blood. The crimson clad girl closed her eyes and began to whisper. "Everything is alright. The body melts away, leaving nothing but us." With closed eyes, she reached out with open palms. The music began to rise slowly, and the field of roses began to bloom. Dozens of beautiful red flowers flooded the stage, blocking it from view. A strong breeze blew through the dark venue, and hundreds of flower petals fluttered up from the garden of flowers.

SHE had not a moment to lose as she rose from the lifeless body. There was still work to be done, but that mans soul was outside of her hands for now. The closest soldier took notice of her as she rose and rose a flintlock pistol to fire. Without a second thought she ducked down and snatched the ruined coat of the crumpled body on the ground. She lifted the dead soldier up between her and the armed man just as he fired. The lead ball slammed into the lifeless skull of the man She was using as a body shield. Blood splattered back onto her face, but she was completely unharmed. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the axe wielding man charging the now defenseless soldier that fired upon her. Without a second thought, she lifted up what was her body shield and threw it into the charging man, causing him to stagger backwards and away from the soldier. He grunted in effort as he threw the body off him, snarling at the young girl who he assumed to be his ally. As he jeered at her, She noticed two of the soldiers lining up their muskets to fire upon the lumbering man. She gasped and sprinted forward, tackling him to the ground just as the volley of lead whistled over them. The larger man opened his mouth to say something, but she had already rolled off him. Staying low to the ground, she rolled over to the dead mans discarded body and pulled his flintlock from his belt. She pointed it upwards at a soldier charging her with bayonet pointed down. There was a puff of smoke as the ball was fired from the gun and lodged itself into the mans waist. He yelped in pain and dropped his musket, stumbling towards her as he clutched his wounds. In one fluid motion she fell into a crouch and swept the stumbling mans legs, sending him clattering to the ground. She snatched his falling musket mid-air and jabbed the bayonet down at the prone man, plunging the blade into his chest. Once more she looked down at the man, whispering calmly to him. "You will be okay. When you wake next you will be in a better place." With that, she twisted the blade in the mans chest, securing his fate.

HISTORIA stood frozen with outstretched arms as the petals fluttered about around her. She opens her mouth to speak, her voice a comforting whisper. "It will all be over soon, I just need you to remember." Suddenly, the constant flow of petals afloat froze. Mid-air they sat, still as a picture. Then once more they began to blow, this time not with the wind, but toward Historia. The petals swirled around her like a crimson tornado, the winds that pushed them forward untangling Historia's braid and yanking the pink locks into the flow. Strangely, the fiber of hair caught to the petals and stuck. Historia felt sick as she felt her hair stuck into the spiral. It was not yanked along with the spiral though, instead it stood still stuck to the flying wall of petals behind her. "She has sacrificed so much for us. Please, remember." Historia pleaded to the empty air as a horrible feeling began to accumulate in her motionless heart. Historia forced a smile onto her face, even as she felt the very being of her soul begin to drain away. Gradually, Historia's hair began to grow at impossible speeds, entangling itself into the torrent of petals, sticking to the floral leaves and forcing them to sit still in the torrent of wind. Slowly, painfully, Historia waited with a pained smile and labored breaths as her hair grew up and out. Historia felt her blood go cold, frozen with nowhere to go without the constant movement of her heart. The magics of the dance kept her alive, but it didn't do anything to stop the pain and agony it caused. Each moment her hair grew longer and each second she felt her life drain from her body was agonizing. She peered up at the ever growing strands of her hair. She had almost caught all the petals. Soon it would be over, and the next stage would begin. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on something else, anything else, but it was impossible. Her limbs felt heavy under her and her body felt dead. She felt like throwing up and screaming ten times over, but she knew she couldn't. She needed to complete the dance, to complete the ritual. Then, at last, it all stopped. No more petals remain. All that was left was her, the music, and memories. With labored breaths, she closed her eyes, and closed her outstretched arms into fists. She could feel they weren't empty, not anymore. Hundreds of sinewy, fragile lines were clenched in her fists. She carefully tugged one hand back, and she felt what was now a towering cocoon of her own hairs shiver and twist. She was in control now. Historia slowed her breaths and tried her hardest to focus. Memories began to come to her, none of which were hers. All the faces were blotted out, but that was alright. She slowly released her tight grip and began to meticulously grab and pull at the correct strings, just as the memories instructed her to.

A'miel vi d'Amaris

Blue-gray smoke coiled in the air in front of his eyes as A’miel reviews the previous few minutes of his life. He had all but cowed the Altersdale officer. Officer? Hardly. The man was barely a gentleman, highly unlikely that he was even of noble stock. Probably some upstart Johnny-in-the-ranks who loaned the affections of some slightly-agreeable looking sibling to a senior officer in exchange for his commission. He mentally shook his head to refocus. He had all but defused the tense moment and secured his route to an audience with Prince Reese, but then that insufferable dullard had spoiled the whole damned plan.

Growing up in a distinctly volatile court at home, A’miel had learned to live on his wits and to train his eyes to be able to register things of interest in his peripheral vision. All the better to see an assassin drawing steel when he thinks he’s out of view. This was how he saw the suspicious motion of the bastard insurgent as he unholstered and raised his pistol. He was aware, even without sparing a glance, that the gun was aimed at the officer, not himself and his body reacted to move himself away from any potential danger of a second bullet. His preemptive movement however, had not saved him from the shower of blood and broken teeth that erupted from the mortally wounded man’s face. The hot fluid and sharp fragments spattered his face as his hands went to his belt to secure his sword. If he must needs fight for his own safety, then it was a scenario he was not unwilling to enter into. It was then that everything went awry.

Time seemed to slow as he wrapped his hand around the carefully worked hilt of his rapier, even as the Altersdale soldiers reacted predictably to their commander’s maiming. As they raised their muskets to wreak bloody slaughter on the pirates and insurgents around them, a small but surprisingly strong arm wrapped itself around his waist like an anaconda seizing its prey. A leg kicked his right knee, causing him to topple and a lithe figure scuttled over his torso and cradled his head to protect him from the fall.

Now here he was, Keiko laying protectively over his body, her hands running with practiced speed over his face, head, chest, arms and thighs. Searching, she was searching his body for any wounds or injuries that may have occurred with the sudden onset of violent affray. As she searched, he heard her voice, low and starkly emotionless against Cecily’s usual exuberance, in his ear.
“My lord, I must get you to safety. We are close to the tavern’s main door, but there may be more troops beyond. The rear door to the tavern is by the bar, but we would be at risk of being shot by one side or the other. Which would you rather risk?”

Before he could assess the situation himself and make a decision, another woman, all but naked from the waist up, scrabbled over and laid a bloody handprint on the back of Keiko’s pretty silk garment. “I’m with the Maiden.” she bellowed over the sound of gunfire, “Are you hurt? Have you seen the others?”
Again, A’miel opened his mouth to reply and again he was interrupted, this time by the totally unexpected source of Cecily, sobbing and jabbering almost insensibly. He sighed and rolled his eyes.
“We’re fine, all things considered.” he replied, shouting back against the raucous gunfire and Cecily’s near-hysterical crying, “But maybe an expeditious retreat is in order. It won’t be long before these Greencoats decide to start shooting at anything that moves. What’s the state of the rest of your crew? Stirling, was it? I saw him earlier, but not since he joined you at your table.”

Inej watched until Historia, Cinder, and two other crew members disappeared fully down the tunnel then waited some more, eyes never straying from the dark gap in the wall. Her hair was a windswept mess and her clothes damp and crumpled, but she stood there poised and still, arms folded across her chest, looking very much like one of the portraits that lined the halls at the Academy.

"Ah said comin' 'ere was a bad plan. Zis place 'as a bad reputation, even in comparison to Port Locarno." Inej tilted her head back slightly towards the voice and shot the grizzled sailor a side-eye but allowed him to finish speaking.

“Monsieur Delacort, always the optimist.” She responded drily. “True, the Realizzatore has its escorts, but unless they have a trained conduit on board, the Ridolfite navy isn’t going to attempt to navigate through this storm lest they want to risk a capsize or ending up terribly lost… and even if they did, they don't have me.” The corners of her mouth curled into a sharp, confident, smirk. Inej straightened once more, turning to face Aloysious fully, this time also taking note of her present appearance and attempting to fix several stray locks of hair to little success. “I believe there’s work to be done. I would like a full report on the state of our rigging as soon as possible. Seeing as our master carpenter is on round-up duty, I’ll be assisting with the checking of the Maiden’s frame and exterior.”

Captain Hesperus