Elza (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
markedfordeath) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
isleofavalon2021-06-03 10:18 pm
markedfordeath) wrote in isleofavalon2021-06-03 10:18 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
🧙 WHO: Elza + OPEN
⚔️️ WHAT: An assassin walks into a bar... Or around the neighbourhood
🕒 WHEN: First week of June
🗺️ WHERE: in and around Camelot with a dash of the Red Springs
⚠️ WARNINGS: N/A at this point in time
The fields of Camelot CLOSED
It had been a number of weeks since Elza had skirted her death and found herself here in this world of Avalon. She hadn't expected to live beyond a few more minutes before she'd been ripped from her demise and pulled here to fight a battle she had no interest in. It was a cruel fate in her mind and this extended life was something she couldn't accept. The bitter part of her knew though that whatever her thoughts on being here were, once again she had to continue living until she was returned to him.
Sturm, the long rifle, lay quietly in the grass beside her as she sat in deep thought underneath an outcropping behind the walls of Camelot which protected her from the relentless rain. The weather was too hot for her liking, but the rain at least meant that it was unlikely anyone would happen upon her location.
How many years has she spent like this? Hiding between towns and settlements on her own. It had been far too many but the gunner had become accustomed to being by herself that she now found it more work than she cared to give being around too many people for too long.
She watched as the rain hit the rocky cover overhead of her and saw how the water trailed and dripped from grass, rocks and the compacted dirt. Elza could have almost deluded herself into thinking that she was back waiting near Sajah Village for him to arrive. Yet the phantom ache in her chest from the bullet wound did well to remind her all that she had lost.
Clive. He had been so close to being able to return to the Garden.
That thought had her attention dropping down to the rifle that lay beside her. In a moment of emotion, the gunner reached down to lay her hand against the cool metal.
"You should be with him," She softly told the gun. It felt the conviction in her words and seemed to hum with power beneath her touch.
Regret... It was a heavy weight in her heart. How much longer did she have to keep feeling its impossible weight. The world could be cruel and she was being reminded once again just how much. She had almost been free of it... Almost let him be free, but frozen or not back in her time, he was still shackled and unable to return to the Garden he so needed.
Pulling her hand away from the cold metal, the gunner's thoughts drifted over to this land and the Harmonian she hadn't expected to see ever again. The fact that he was here wasn't a comfort but at the same time it wasn't uncomfortable either. She couldn't quite pin down how she felt about someone here who knew her in the way that he did. It was inconvenient, but at the same time not so as there was so much more she could ask Nash... But she couldn't bring herself to ask the one question burning at the back of her mind.
A shadow formed over her, drawing the gunners attention to the figure now floating in the air not far above where she sat in deep in thought.
"I suppose you're here to mock me," she murmured before glancing up at the IronMoon who stared down at her with its piercing amber coloured eyes. That smile it gave seemed tease her as it wordlessly spun around on the spot before slowing to a stop.
"Heh," She sounded as if she were having a conversation with herself. "I find that hard to believe."
She was quiet for a long while as she regarded the floating moon. It slowly turned left then right as it hovered in the air before slowing to a stop once again.
"You've picked the wrong person for this job," Elza said in reply. The moon shook lightly and rapidly up and down before fading out then back into existence. She found herself glancing away as she said, "Perhaps... But I have little interest with involving myself in this war."
The IronMoon faded back out of existence after she spoke, leaving Elza once again alone with Sturm. She didn't have to touch the rifle to know it was beckoning her. The gunner didn't resist and reached out to slip her fingers around the barrel of the gun before she moved to stand up in one fluid motion.
Crowds or not, she needed a drink.
Around Camelot OPEN
Elza made her way back into Camelot. The streets were filled with people busy with their day. With her hood up to obscure her face, she seemed to make walking through a crowd untouched seem effortless.
The city was nothing like she was used to. The sheer amount of technology was daunting and the fact it was surrounding her in every direction was unsettling. They say it made lives easier, but she couldn't see how that was. Perhaps she was set in her ways too much or maybe it was that overly cautious side of her whispering in her ear, but at the end of the day she didn't trust it.
She came to a stop at the corner to get her bearings. While she'd learnt much of the city there was still so much more she needed to map out. So the gunner wordlessly slipped through the crowd to do just that.
One never knew when it would come in handy.
Tavern OPEN
The afternoon reflection hadn't exactly brought her solidarity she had tried to sort. Moving with graceful silence, the gunner slipped through the doors to one of the local taverns.
Her cloak dripped on the floor while she stood there observing her surroundings. Reaching up, the gunner pulled the hood back away from her head as she scanned the crowd. There were a few patrions already inside. Three groups of various sizes and a number of individuals. Taking note of everyone's location, Elza approached the bar to order herself an ale along with a bowl of whatever food they were serving.
Nodding her thanks, the gunner sought out the booth the furthest from the doors and away from any windows. Taking the seat pressed against the wall, Elza pulled Sturm from her back and placed it to lean against the wall beside her.
[ooc: happy to play out anything else. Feel free to hit me up via message or plurk (ozzypoos)]
⚔️️ WHAT: An assassin walks into a bar... Or around the neighbourhood
🕒 WHEN: First week of June
🗺️ WHERE: in and around Camelot with a dash of the Red Springs
⚠️ WARNINGS: N/A at this point in time
The fields of Camelot CLOSED
It had been a number of weeks since Elza had skirted her death and found herself here in this world of Avalon. She hadn't expected to live beyond a few more minutes before she'd been ripped from her demise and pulled here to fight a battle she had no interest in. It was a cruel fate in her mind and this extended life was something she couldn't accept. The bitter part of her knew though that whatever her thoughts on being here were, once again she had to continue living until she was returned to him.
Sturm, the long rifle, lay quietly in the grass beside her as she sat in deep thought underneath an outcropping behind the walls of Camelot which protected her from the relentless rain. The weather was too hot for her liking, but the rain at least meant that it was unlikely anyone would happen upon her location.
How many years has she spent like this? Hiding between towns and settlements on her own. It had been far too many but the gunner had become accustomed to being by herself that she now found it more work than she cared to give being around too many people for too long.
She watched as the rain hit the rocky cover overhead of her and saw how the water trailed and dripped from grass, rocks and the compacted dirt. Elza could have almost deluded herself into thinking that she was back waiting near Sajah Village for him to arrive. Yet the phantom ache in her chest from the bullet wound did well to remind her all that she had lost.
Clive. He had been so close to being able to return to the Garden.
That thought had her attention dropping down to the rifle that lay beside her. In a moment of emotion, the gunner reached down to lay her hand against the cool metal.
"You should be with him," She softly told the gun. It felt the conviction in her words and seemed to hum with power beneath her touch.
Regret... It was a heavy weight in her heart. How much longer did she have to keep feeling its impossible weight. The world could be cruel and she was being reminded once again just how much. She had almost been free of it... Almost let him be free, but frozen or not back in her time, he was still shackled and unable to return to the Garden he so needed.
Pulling her hand away from the cold metal, the gunner's thoughts drifted over to this land and the Harmonian she hadn't expected to see ever again. The fact that he was here wasn't a comfort but at the same time it wasn't uncomfortable either. She couldn't quite pin down how she felt about someone here who knew her in the way that he did. It was inconvenient, but at the same time not so as there was so much more she could ask Nash... But she couldn't bring herself to ask the one question burning at the back of her mind.
A shadow formed over her, drawing the gunners attention to the figure now floating in the air not far above where she sat in deep in thought.
"I suppose you're here to mock me," she murmured before glancing up at the IronMoon who stared down at her with its piercing amber coloured eyes. That smile it gave seemed tease her as it wordlessly spun around on the spot before slowing to a stop.
"Heh," She sounded as if she were having a conversation with herself. "I find that hard to believe."
She was quiet for a long while as she regarded the floating moon. It slowly turned left then right as it hovered in the air before slowing to a stop once again.
"You've picked the wrong person for this job," Elza said in reply. The moon shook lightly and rapidly up and down before fading out then back into existence. She found herself glancing away as she said, "Perhaps... But I have little interest with involving myself in this war."
The IronMoon faded back out of existence after she spoke, leaving Elza once again alone with Sturm. She didn't have to touch the rifle to know it was beckoning her. The gunner didn't resist and reached out to slip her fingers around the barrel of the gun before she moved to stand up in one fluid motion.
Crowds or not, she needed a drink.
Around Camelot OPEN
Elza made her way back into Camelot. The streets were filled with people busy with their day. With her hood up to obscure her face, she seemed to make walking through a crowd untouched seem effortless.
The city was nothing like she was used to. The sheer amount of technology was daunting and the fact it was surrounding her in every direction was unsettling. They say it made lives easier, but she couldn't see how that was. Perhaps she was set in her ways too much or maybe it was that overly cautious side of her whispering in her ear, but at the end of the day she didn't trust it.
She came to a stop at the corner to get her bearings. While she'd learnt much of the city there was still so much more she needed to map out. So the gunner wordlessly slipped through the crowd to do just that.
One never knew when it would come in handy.
Tavern OPEN
The afternoon reflection hadn't exactly brought her solidarity she had tried to sort. Moving with graceful silence, the gunner slipped through the doors to one of the local taverns.
Her cloak dripped on the floor while she stood there observing her surroundings. Reaching up, the gunner pulled the hood back away from her head as she scanned the crowd. There were a few patrions already inside. Three groups of various sizes and a number of individuals. Taking note of everyone's location, Elza approached the bar to order herself an ale along with a bowl of whatever food they were serving.
Nodding her thanks, the gunner sought out the booth the furthest from the doors and away from any windows. Taking the seat pressed against the wall, Elza pulled Sturm from her back and placed it to lean against the wall beside her.
[ooc: happy to play out anything else. Feel free to hit me up via message or plurk (ozzypoos)]