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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jun 22, 2012 22:28:12 GMT -8
Song for Post: Zac Brown Band: Colder Weather (just the one I was listening too while writing) He said I wanna see you again But I'm stuck in colder weather Maybe tomorrow will be better Can I call you then She said you're a ramblin' man And you ain't ever gonna change You gotta gypsy soul to blame And you were born for leavin' Bastille felt the cold water rush over her as she dove into the Pacific Ocean. She wasn't far from her old hide out..and she was on a rather tiny spit of beach between two cliffs and past a huge crap tone of rubble...which, in the process of getting through, the assassin had gained a series of new cuts and bruises. Some of them might even require stitches. But as Bastille has a long standing reputation of ignoring the best medical option she saw no reason to end that fine tradition now. So salt water it was. She hadn't bathed in weeks....and frankly she missed it. Salt water would just have to do. Of course, she also considered this beach rather.....deserted...and thus dawned black scraps of torn fabric as a make shift bikini. The metallic bits of her leg showed in full force, and her scars covered her body like oversized freckles. Because of the cold, the cracks around her eyes became more visible. Around her neck was the necklace she never took off...but the rest of her clothes were safely stashed in a hiding spot. It too a minute to come up for air, and when she did she felt even better then when she had dived into the waves. Granted, the water was probably polluted, and lets not forget the danger she risked in even coming out here, but then again- when did she ever give a damn? After a couple more dives she quickly moved from the water to the shelter of the cliffs and picked up and towel she had managed to find. Quietly she began to dry herself off ....pausing. Blood flowed from her new cuts and her face scrunched as a huff escaped her. Really, this was going to get old. She stood and wrapped her head up messily into the towel as she sauntered over to a small metal sheet of debris laying near her cave. She picked it up and looked into it with a rather bored expression. Well bleeding mother macreede.....she was a walking zombie, or she might as well be. Her arms were covered in cuts and scrapes....her stomach had the scars from the train incident, which had also left her left leg partly metal and resembling something out of Frankenstein or I robot. Around her eyes were deep black cracks from the chemical in her old contacts, and veins ran around them in a series of webs. Usually they weren't this visible...but getting wet and cold helped her skin to harden around the injuries. She was never the type to be self conscious but....this was just pathetic. Well...as long as she realized it. She grabbed a pair of sunglasses and shoved on sandals and a blood stained shirt. Grabbing a pair of binoculars, she sauntered out to climb the cliffs and scout out her favorite look out point. Climbing the cliffs with no ropes or holsters might be idiotic..but it was fine. Slowly but surely she worked her way up to where her clothes AND LUNCH were hiding. She sat down on the ledge no bigger then one foot and opened the tied up pale. Inside was a twinkie and peanut butter sandwich(albeit not edible looking) and various other things that remained unrecognizable. She put up her binoculars and peered through them out at the coast in an odd fashion. Munching on her crunchy(?) sandwich, she seemed to see what she was looking for and kept her eyes peeled on the same spot. Above her was the next 50 feet of cliff to the only entrance to the beach...she would have to climb it and in the end causing only more injury. Really...you think a girl would learn. But hey, she seemed content to watch whatever she was looking at for at least a little while longer. And ever since the "apocalypse" the beaches had been a lot quieter. [[ooc; just a thread for interaction....open for fun, i dunno have at it. More for gaining character relationships- at least..that was the goal,...but other stuff is cool too i guess]]
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Jun 29, 2012 17:07:04 GMT -8
((OOC: MIND IF I PARTAKE~? =D))
Not far from where Bastille was diving off of cliffs, Delilah was frequenting an old place she had liked to visit in days long past. She had only just gotten away from her home at the base: it had been a fairly busy couple of months and she felt that she had earned some time to herself, even if it was only for a few hours.
And so she sat in her black bikini top and oil-stained jeans, eyes closed, basking in the sun, meditating on how lovely and complete life was. You know, in spite of the bombing and the destitution and the destruction and Barker. Stu was back in her life, the Crows were starting to really thrive, the people she was training were improving in leaps and bounds, Oliver had his father and perhaps “Unfettered” could rest easy for a few minutes. Despite the seriousness of the predicament of Southern California – and now the world – she couldn't help but revel in the fact that life deigned to continue trudging forward. It was to be admired and enjoyed.
And it was for that reason Delilah meditated inwardly, focusing entirely on her own energies and balancing them out. This was a good way to alleviate any accumulated stress she had gathered – and she had her fair share, that was for sure.
This was why Delilah would not notice that, just on the other side of the cliffs, there was a young woman peering hungrily at the ledge she rested herself upon through binoculars. Why, she scarcely noticed anything at the moment, so deep was she in her meditation: it was almost as though she was asleep.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jul 3, 2012 16:04:48 GMT -8
((ooc: not at all ^.^))
Bastille let her eye focus on the figure and then quickly she blurred out her vision again. Focusing too long made those darned lines stand out on her face. She finished her sandwich and looked again at the girl. It was interesting, to see people, living people, and for a moment she basked in it. She loved humanity, almost obnoxiously so- to see them gone was the loss of a world in some ways. Sure toy with them, manipulate the story...but destroy them. That was boring. Bastille stared for a while before finally deciding it had been rather too long since she had communicated. Climbing down from the cliff, she managed to scale a good portion of it as she found a new rock- much closer- with which to stare at the girl. MUUUUUUCH closer.
About 3 yards from the girl, Bastille jumped down, making no move to conceal herself as she held up the binoculars backwards and stared.
"The vision in these things just isn't getting any better....well, maybe a bit"
She spoke in an amused manner, focusing more the statement at herself then anyone else.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Jul 11, 2012 17:25:52 GMT -8
So absorbed was she in her trance like sleep, and so sure that there wouldn't be anyone in the vicinity, Delilah was completely unaware of the girl and her approach. Still, she felt a niggling sense of being watched, but not enough to want to draw her out of the peaceful state she was in. She was so content, so relaxed, so--
"The vision in these things just isn't getting any better....well, maybe a bit"
--VERY ALARMED.
“BAH!”
If there had been a ceiling, Delilah would have hit it and stuck there like a spooked cat. As it was, she had jolted upright with her eyes wide open, hands groping for a knife...
...except that the momentum of her sitting up continued to carry her forward, and Delilah winded up flat on her stomach with her face in the grass.
She lay there for a moment, stewing at herself. Some ninja she was. “I don't suppose you meant for me to do that.” she stated, her voice muffled by the ground.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jul 11, 2012 23:49:21 GMT -8
"Well dont get your undies in a bloody knot, but yes, the reaction was as much anticipated as it was enjoyed"
Bastille smirked at the blue eyed girl. She had seen her before...a long time ago, perhaps in passing. She couldn't put her finger on it, but either way here she was mumbling to herself trying to place those blue eyes. When nothing came up she shrugged.
"I wont kill you if you dont kill me- sound like a plan? It'd be a downright shame if we messed up this temporary quiet"
She plopped herself down next to the girl and took off her sunglasses to reveal her crimson eyes- the deep cracks in her hardened muscles and skin showing in the sun- looking like glass breaking away from her eyes. She hated the lines, but she had to admit- for all the creepy they added a whole new effect.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Jul 12, 2012 15:40:13 GMT -8
"Well dont get your undies in a bloody knot, but yes, the reaction was as much anticipated as it was enjoyed"
Delilah snorted into the grass. It wasn't often she was caught so drastically off guard. Even now her heart was palpitating far above it's normal rate. She was trained for any combat situation, proficient - if not expert - in the use of many kinds of weapons. She was level-headed, self-assured and all around rather calm. so it wasn't often she shrieked like a little school girl and flailed about when she was surprised. It was unnerving, but also a relief. it was good to be reminded that she was still human.
"I wont kill you if you dont kill me- sound like a plan? It'd be a downright shame if we messed up this temporary quiet"
And now that Delilah was paying attention, the girl's accent was starting to sound more and more familiar. But where-oh-where had she heard it before?
With a grunt, she rolled over onto her back, making a pillow for her head with her hands, staring up at the sky. "Agreed."
She sat there in silence for a moment, watching the sky....and the girl, out of the corner of her eye. DAMN, but she was familiar, with her red eyes and her plethora of scars (she was almost certain that the woman had more of those than even she did). It brought her back to her high school days, back before the school was destroyed by an earthquake, even. Those were simpler times. But the place and time of meeting this familiar face continued to elude her.
Finally, Delilah turned her head to the girl. "I went to high school with you." she said in almost an accusatory tone, as if unsure but certain all at once. "The only thing that keeps popping into my head is a fight in the cafeteria. I don't even know if we met for certain or if I even introduced myself, but I'm Delilah Black," she held out her hand to the girl for a shake, her palm stained black save for the fresh white slash of a scar in the centre encompassing the width.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jul 17, 2012 17:00:29 GMT -8
Bastille thought of replying...of giving her birth name like she normally have done without hesitation or doubt. But that girl had been dead to the world for years, gone. So she gave her fake name- perhaps it would later connect but for now, Unfettered would be the only one to know of her remaining existence. Bastille took her hand and smirked.
"Pleasure Delilah"
She sat down and made herself comfortable, clearing her throat.
"The name is Bastille"
Fuck Knights honor- it always screwed her over.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Jul 17, 2012 17:14:03 GMT -8
Delilah blinked at the name, realizing who it was. She grinned broadly. "I remember you now....the English girl named after a French prison! I always wondered what happened to you." she let out a low laugh and leaned back into the grass, closing her eyes against the bright blue sun and sky, relishing in the company, the peace and quiet.
"So, what brings you to this knick of the woods? I was pretty sure I was the only one who knew about this spot" I used to come here when my home life got hectic, before...you know." she flailed with her hand as if to indicate 'all of this'.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jul 17, 2012 17:25:29 GMT -8
Bastille frowned a bit at 'all of this' but seemed to muse a bit over the question. Constant muttering escaped her lips and questions to herself about which even came first. She finally settled on something in silence and then put her sunglasses back on.
"I found the spot a couple weeks ago when I realized it'd be the safest vantage point- you'll know something is coming at least 10 minutes before it gets here just because of the complicated climb and the radioactive debris water. Call it guts but I wanted a vacation spot...."
Like hell she'd give away why she really knew this spot. That was reserved for herself only.
She'd get into the whole back story of what had happened to her if she had years to tell it,...she'd left, picked up free lance work...blah blah got blown up, blah blah...recovery blah blah, world end, started refugee organization in Europe under the guise of a run down brothel network...it was really a rather stupid story if she thought about it. Ever since the train, she'd been someone else entirely. This was the first time that Bastille had really come out in a while.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Jul 17, 2012 17:38:11 GMT -8
Not the talkative kind, huh? Fair enough.
"The water is definitely a deterrent," she agreed, nodding her head. "If I weren't so hell bent on finding a little bit of normalcy here and there, I probably wouldn't have come." Delilah opened her eyes again, staring up at the sky, overcome with nostalgia. "With all the changes the world has gone through in the last year, the past is almost a welcome reprive. For me at least."
She was silent for a time, watching the clouds drift by far above them, letting the breeze tousle her hair.
"I don't bite, you know," she said at last, her voice quiet. "If you don't want to say why you're here, that's no big deal. It's up to you. I only know your name, not who you are: I don't have to know more if you don't want me to.
"Of course, I might talk your ear off to fill the silence." she joked, her voice cracking with her laughter.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jul 17, 2012 17:50:04 GMT -8
Bastille looked over and raised a brow. Then...oddly, she smirked.
"I'm here because I needed to get out of that cage. Where I'm being guarded bleeding sucks, and if it were up to me I'd be back in Toledo, Spain by now continuing what I'd been up to this whole lot of time. But seeing as that all went to hell in a hand basket...welcome back to sunny California. At least it's still blooming hot here..."
She points to her ear in a gesture of formality.
"doubtful you could talk it off though...letting you in a little secret about me, I'm rather good at listening. But if you intend to try, tell me what you've been up to since - what was that term you Americans used....ah yes- high school."
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Jul 17, 2012 18:43:08 GMT -8
She listened serenely as Bastille explained her time in Spain and she found herself grinning. Trapped in a cage...interesting. Many a metaphor could be put to that one. Her mind swam with double, triple entendres, though it was probably far simpler than what she was thinking. OR WAS IT?
Clever, clever.
"doubtful you could talk it off though...letting you in a little secret about me, I'm rather good at listening. But if you intend to try, tell me what you've been up to since - what was that term you Americans used....ah yes- high school."
"WELL." She huffed, "That's quite the kettle of fish, I won't lie to you. Since high school, I've been thrown in jail to bail out...a friend I work for now with the Crows and Militia," "Unfettered", of course. "--then I was put in a mental institution and was broken out by aforementioned friend wherein I discovered that I was with child." she reached inside her shirt and pulled out a tattered, well loved photo and handed it to Bastille. The boy in the picture, Oliver, white haired with one blue eye and the other that resembled a chunk of obsidian shoved into his eye socket, was four, lookin' on as "Unfettered" and "Teal" played chess in what used o be Delilah's living room. "I was raising him in relative peace and quiet while still helping out my friend, running a chop-shop to get us funds and parts to prepare for the attack by Barker. We weren't prepared....for what followed." she finished, trailing off slightly.
She shook her head, ridding herself of the thought. "Since then, I've been working for and staying with the Crows, helping to train the troops and help out in anyway I can.
"Speaking of where are you staying currently? I don't mean to pry, it's just that the Crows have warm beds, hot meals and running water, which they provide for civilians who don't want to affiliate themselves to us. You're more than welcome to partake in the facilities, no strings attached, you know."
Just an offer, not an invitation or a recruitment plan. Her job wanted her sure that everyone she met was out of Barker's reach, healthy and relatively happy. It only felt fair that Bastille, an old school mate if nothing else, be extended the same courtesy.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jul 17, 2012 19:05:07 GMT -8
"Under Patchies bed" She was half kidding. And by Patchie she meant Unfettered.
Bastille took a moment to sigh and push her raggedy hair back.
"He found me when I got stranded here, and since I was here to meet him in the first place, he owes me. It's just stifling is all, no good porn under there and certainly nothing else of value. I swear he's probably memorized the 1997 issue of playboy December to the exact amount of airbrushed pours in miss Christmas's left cheek."
And now this was all made up. But she said it with a straight face. She was keeping this running joke of making everyone and their mother believe that her and Unfettered were not only in some long distance, strained complicated love affair but that she was his sex slave named Lessi, and any other story she could make up- much to Unfettered unaccountability of course. This was not only to protect her identity as Bastille (since she had taken up being Kahleesi around the crows nest so that Bastille would remain dead to the world) but also to keep anyone who knew her to be Bastille (very very few, perhaps three, well now four) from asking about a certain old relationship- ESPECIALLY since his return to existence. It figures the moment she came back to help a friend he'd show his face.
So she just smirked and beamed.
"You might have seen me around wearing a rather fantastic red wig?"
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Jul 19, 2012 16:23:14 GMT -8
"Under Patchies bed"
Delilah's eyes snapped open and she whipped her head around to look at Bastille.
WAAAAAAT
'Patchy' was the same name her son used to describe "Unfettered", so it was instantly familiar to her. She listened with an expression that was somewhere between horror and disbelief as she described the 'lack of porn' under her OLDEST FRIEND'S BED.
OH DEAR LORD WHY
"UH..I seeeeeee..."
"You might have seen me around wearing a rather fantastic red wig?"
Delilah shook her head, still rattled by the influx of information, "No, I can't say I...wait..." realization slowly dawned on her as she remembered that she HAD seen a red-haired woman running around the base...
...or, rather, AWAY from some of the members of Militia.
IT ALL MADE SENSE NOW.
Delilah gaped at Bastille, unsure how to take this information. She had been living in the Crows' base under her nose all this time, with one of her superiors?!
THAT CRAFTY KRAUT BASTARD.
"Wha...for how long?!"
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jul 25, 2012 21:42:13 GMT -8
Bastille's smug grin told just how satisfied she was with the girls reaction. She almost burst out laughing herself, but retained her slightly evil grin.
"not very." She shoved her hair back. The deep black cracks in the makeshift bone under the thin layer of translucent skin around her eyes started to really stand out in the light. Her crimson hues stared towards the ocean.
"Like I said, came here from Spain and have been here almost a month and a half....most that time hiding out in what used to be the 'Happiest place on earth'...Finally I found my way back truly blocked so I finally decided to give up and ask for help from him. He took me in, so I'm here as a refugee...nothing more."
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