Stickdom
I’m a fixer. I fix broken things. It’s what I do.
Cynthia Eunice Greyloch
DWMA Building
Choosing to stay at the DWMA during the concert had been an intentional choice. Cynthia had no need to mix with the common rabble that attended such events, and she was certain the music would be sorely distasteful."How I long for the pleasantries of home again, England has so much more culture and class than this... this wretched desert." She sniffed at this last mental word, of course the school would have to be situated in a wasteland. If it weren't her only means of becoming a high-ranking Weapon, she would surely have never kept returning for five long years. Still, she had to admit that there were times it had a certain beauty to it, but only when it wasn't hellishly hot. Such as now, with the round, smiling moon shining out over the landscape, painting the sandy dunes a pale blue.
The sounds of music drifted out from the city below, Cynthia sitting in her window and counting the stars. The band didn't sound terrible, echoing across the quiet city streets to the DWMA building, but it certainly wasn't the genre of music she preferred. She would much rather a classical orchestra or at least a string quartet, something with soul and melody and harmony, not the grating electric guitars and repetitive crooning of half-baked love songs. But the music stopped abruptly, apparently mid-song, and Cynthia looked out on the town below to see what had happened to the concert that had been going full-swing only moments ago. Of course, it was too far to actually see anything, but she stared anyway, out into the moonlit darkness, looking for some glimpse of the cause of such sudden silence. And then it wasn't silence anymore, screams filled the air, as loud as the music had been, and Cynthia knew something was terribly amiss. "What could have happened? An accident perhaps? Or maybe a Witch attack...?" The thought had no sooner entered her mind before she acted upon it, dressing quickly out of her nightgown and into her hunting clothes, as she called them, a red long-tailed coat, one sleeve reaching to her right wrist, the other short, the arm covered in a long black glove that reached to her shoulder. The glove was easier to work with, her left hand being dominant, it was the one more commonly manifested as her weapon if she needed it, and it was easier to replace a shredded glove than an arm of the coat. Her legs were covered in black stockings from her thighs to toes, ending in slender white shoes with rounded tips and wide heels for stability. Not exactly a designer outfit, but it was a suitable combination of practical and fashionable in Cynthia's mind.
She threw her snowy braid over her shoulder, wrapping it around her neck in the same manner as a scarf, it kept it out of the way when she needed to move quickly. And so she did, taking the stairs down into the DWMA lobby three at a time before bursting out through the front doors. She nearly bowled into Jessyka, a Two-Star Meister a year younger than herself whose most eye-catching feature was her bright pink hair. Cynthia had worked with Jessyka before, they had partnered for a minor mission in the past, when they were both fairly new. Cynthia had never been able to connect to her, she found Jessyka to be far too excitable and agitated, their souls had never found a common ground to bond on, and so they rarely ever came in contact. Perhaps the most difficult occurrence for the Weapon to cope with was Jessyka's habit of screaming out if anyone touched her. Cynthia regarded her as flighty, a trait which they could not work around, and so they parted ways. Jessyka had found a new partner in the meantime and even become a 2-Star since that time, so she was apparently doing well for herself.
Cynthia shook her head, clearing the clinging thoughts from her mind. Now was not the time to be reminiscing about past missions or pining for a partner of her own, there was tumult at the city square, and Jessyka probably knew something about it. "Jessyka! What in saints' names is going on down there! I heard screams, what is the uproar?" Close behind Jessyka came Yury, a much newer student, presumably following the pink-haired girl to assist in whatever she was so frantically running to do. If it wasn't one thing, it was another around here, surely there was some disturbance going on at all times, it seemed to be a requirement for daily living.
Mentions:
DWMA Building
Choosing to stay at the DWMA during the concert had been an intentional choice. Cynthia had no need to mix with the common rabble that attended such events, and she was certain the music would be sorely distasteful."How I long for the pleasantries of home again, England has so much more culture and class than this... this wretched desert." She sniffed at this last mental word, of course the school would have to be situated in a wasteland. If it weren't her only means of becoming a high-ranking Weapon, she would surely have never kept returning for five long years. Still, she had to admit that there were times it had a certain beauty to it, but only when it wasn't hellishly hot. Such as now, with the round, smiling moon shining out over the landscape, painting the sandy dunes a pale blue.
The sounds of music drifted out from the city below, Cynthia sitting in her window and counting the stars. The band didn't sound terrible, echoing across the quiet city streets to the DWMA building, but it certainly wasn't the genre of music she preferred. She would much rather a classical orchestra or at least a string quartet, something with soul and melody and harmony, not the grating electric guitars and repetitive crooning of half-baked love songs. But the music stopped abruptly, apparently mid-song, and Cynthia looked out on the town below to see what had happened to the concert that had been going full-swing only moments ago. Of course, it was too far to actually see anything, but she stared anyway, out into the moonlit darkness, looking for some glimpse of the cause of such sudden silence. And then it wasn't silence anymore, screams filled the air, as loud as the music had been, and Cynthia knew something was terribly amiss. "What could have happened? An accident perhaps? Or maybe a Witch attack...?" The thought had no sooner entered her mind before she acted upon it, dressing quickly out of her nightgown and into her hunting clothes, as she called them, a red long-tailed coat, one sleeve reaching to her right wrist, the other short, the arm covered in a long black glove that reached to her shoulder. The glove was easier to work with, her left hand being dominant, it was the one more commonly manifested as her weapon if she needed it, and it was easier to replace a shredded glove than an arm of the coat. Her legs were covered in black stockings from her thighs to toes, ending in slender white shoes with rounded tips and wide heels for stability. Not exactly a designer outfit, but it was a suitable combination of practical and fashionable in Cynthia's mind.
She threw her snowy braid over her shoulder, wrapping it around her neck in the same manner as a scarf, it kept it out of the way when she needed to move quickly. And so she did, taking the stairs down into the DWMA lobby three at a time before bursting out through the front doors. She nearly bowled into Jessyka, a Two-Star Meister a year younger than herself whose most eye-catching feature was her bright pink hair. Cynthia had worked with Jessyka before, they had partnered for a minor mission in the past, when they were both fairly new. Cynthia had never been able to connect to her, she found Jessyka to be far too excitable and agitated, their souls had never found a common ground to bond on, and so they rarely ever came in contact. Perhaps the most difficult occurrence for the Weapon to cope with was Jessyka's habit of screaming out if anyone touched her. Cynthia regarded her as flighty, a trait which they could not work around, and so they parted ways. Jessyka had found a new partner in the meantime and even become a 2-Star since that time, so she was apparently doing well for herself.
Cynthia shook her head, clearing the clinging thoughts from her mind. Now was not the time to be reminiscing about past missions or pining for a partner of her own, there was tumult at the city square, and Jessyka probably knew something about it. "Jessyka! What in saints' names is going on down there! I heard screams, what is the uproar?" Close behind Jessyka came Yury, a much newer student, presumably following the pink-haired girl to assist in whatever she was so frantically running to do. If it wasn't one thing, it was another around here, surely there was some disturbance going on at all times, it seemed to be a requirement for daily living.
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