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Post by Iole on Mar 26, 2009 18:08:45 GMT -5
The Plague Wars, the Sands War, The Order War... and I did some undercover work in the Second Sorceress War.
::She doesn't sound proud of her experience however. If anything, she sounds saddened with herself::
My Auntie was kind of a battle freak and I went with her everywhere.
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Post by Oliver on Mar 26, 2009 18:14:43 GMT -5
Sid nods, knowing full well the stories of those wars. "Quite the list, the LPA could use someone like you in her ranks but, I take it, you don't vant this fight."
Oliver returns, with his coat and scarf back on. "Ye two ready ta go?"
Sid turns and walks past Oliver. "Aye, let's go."
Oliver waits for Iole, standing in the hallway for her. "Shall we?"
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Post by Iole on Mar 26, 2009 18:34:41 GMT -5
::Iole nods::
Lets.
::As they head off, she feels its safe to ask Oliver now that Sid's out of earshot. She whispers to him::
Ollie, I was wondering, what's a "sploder"?
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Post by Oliver on Mar 26, 2009 18:48:06 GMT -5
"Oh... Uh..." Its apparent Oliver is trying to think of a nice way to say what he is about to. "Tey are... suicide bombers. Wait tho, let me finish. A fringe group called the Liberation Fires of Lindblum do tose, LPA has no affi'iation wit tose nut jobs. Tey send out te sick, old and dying ta do it, sort of a crazy thing about doing one las ting for ta resistance."
"Ve call em 'sploders' cause of the vet gushy sound they make vhen the bomb doesn't go off right." Sid chimes in from behind, his tone is nearly comical.
Three streets from the flat, the presence of rebels grows stronger. Every few feet there seems to be another rebel standing guard and turning down another street, they come upon the sight of a mass of people gathering outside an old factory.
"LPA to the front!" A soldier calls from the swarm of people, beside him, a stream of LPA rebels waiting in line to go inside. Sid steps on ahead, while Oliver takes Iole's hand. "Try not te get separated."
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Post by Iole on Mar 26, 2009 23:45:22 GMT -5
::Iole remains close to Oliver, looping her arm through his again and keeping her head down. These people seem to have a very tight knit community, and she's not sure how well they'd respond to outsiders::
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Post by Oliver on Mar 27, 2009 0:05:54 GMT -5
Once through the line, they come to the entrance to the factory where a guard is letting members of the LPA through. Sid walks in, he then lets Oliver pass, but Iole is stopped. The soldiers hand blocking her entrance.
"Sorree, LPA only, it is." Says the guard. "Shes wit me, let her through." Exclaims Oliver. "Ordas ar ordas, comrade, LPA ony first."
"Let her through." Captain Connolly approaches from the door and accosts the guard.
"Uh... but ta orders... sir?" The guard is visibly nervous. "Did you hear me?" "Yes, uh, ye ca'com in."
Once allowed through, Connolly guides Sid, Oliver, and Iole to a row of seats near the front. Most of the chairs here are already occupied by other Burmecians and the rows around them are littered with all various races of people. Connolly tells them to take a seat and when they have, he sits at the end of the row, beside the aisle.
Oliver takes this oppertunity to lean in close to Iole and whisper. "Not ta ye would, but please bite ye tongue if ye hear sometin ye don't agree wit. Reynard is here today, dun wanna make a scene."
After a few minutes, a crowd starts piling in, standing behind the rows of LPA. There's a loud din and it seems as if no one would be able to speak over the roar, but when a few gentlemen appear on the catwalk just overhead, the entire place falls quiet without a commanding word.
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Post by Iole on Mar 27, 2009 0:17:57 GMT -5
I can control myself Ollie. So is this the guy you were telling me about at the flat that we've come to see?
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Post by Oliver on Mar 27, 2009 0:35:00 GMT -5
"Aye, tat we have. Ahh, here he comes." Oliver points to the platform, there accompanied side by side with others, stands one man in particular. His face narrow and chin pointed, standing taller then the rest. His sharp chin has a faint goatee, his eyes are sharp and quick. It's clearly the man from the posters. He raises his arms to the crowd, they cheer momentarily then silence. He begins to speak.
It's a lot obvious propaganda, specially when Reynard begins to speak about new technologies and collective organization. "We must show the farming peasants that the organization of industry on the basis of modern, advanced technology, on electrification which will provide a link between town and country, will put an end to the division between town and country, will make it possible to raise the level of culture in the countryside and to overcome, even in the most remote corners of land, backwardness, ignorance, poverty, disease, and barbarism."
There's a cheer after he finishes speaking upon this. The rest of the meeting is mostly business relating to unions, the party, and new policies enacted by the Regent. The meeting ends with a cheer and applause, Oliver and the rest of the crowd standing to give an ovation.
After Reynard leaves the cat-walk, the crowd begins to disperse, some mingle and captain Connolly addresses his unit. "Meeting in the back in twenty, all Red Dragoons present must attend." With that, he walks off.
Oliver looks over to Iole. "Well, does it sound so bad still? Reynard is a man of ta people. Notin sinister about him."
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Post by Iole on Mar 27, 2009 0:40:19 GMT -5
::Listening to Reynard speak, it becomes very easy to see how those that have gathered can be swept up in this feeling he generates. But she's seen so many causes get twisted and corrupted before::
I'm not sure I trust him Ollie. I'll admit he's got a good goal in mind, but I can't shake the feeling he's not really the man he's built up to be. Sooner or later, they all sound like Gwen. But I guess I can't change your mind. Am I going to be waiting outside for the Dragoon meeting?
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Post by Oliver on Mar 27, 2009 0:59:14 GMT -5
Oliver shakes his head no. "Don see why, Connolly vouched for ye, might see sumtin inside ye. He trusts me, so I guess he trusts ye."
"Don't look nov, but trouble is comin this vay." Sid says as he elbows Oliver in the side, his head tilting towards a spot of people mingling, beside them is a sleek, libidinous woman with blond hair, baby-blue eyes, and legs as smooth as milk. Shes dressed in a c***-tail gown made of sequence and satin. She takes puffs from the long cigarette holder in her long gloved hands. Her head turns, one eye visible as she looks to Sid, Oliver and Iole. She excuses herself and walks over to the three, her hips swaying and heels clicking.
"Well, good to see you're still in one fine piece, Ollie. Don't want to see my little rattikin surcome to a premature explosion." She takes a drag from her cigarette, then rests the hand on her hip. "An if it isn't Sid. Still got the smokiest barrel in town, soldier?" She smiles, devilishly so. She then looks to Iole, her breath holding in a catty fashion. "And who is the little girl? A friend of yours Ollie that you never told me about? Names Violette, Violette Hallowes. And what is yours, sweetie? Don't be shy."
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Post by Iole on Mar 27, 2009 1:06:52 GMT -5
::Iole narrows her eyes at the woman::
Iole Blakeney. Ollie and I are old friends. I'm a little surprised he never mentioned me. I was the first one to call him that. Term of endearment.
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Post by Oliver on Mar 27, 2009 1:23:08 GMT -5
Violette flutters her eyes then takes another drag from her cigarette. "Well, I'm sure it just... slipped his mind." She tosses her golden bangs back, letting them bounce just slightly.
Oliver looks away, eyes trying to avoid contact. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife between Iole and Violette.
"Ollie." Sid says, snapping Oliver back. "Ve got to get going."
"Ah. Right! Iole, time to meet up with the rest of the Dragoons." He puts his arm around her shoulders. "Uh... I'll ta'k ta later, Violette."
Violette takes another drag from her cigarette, letting the smoke she exhales flow over her face. "Don't be a stranger, Ollie. Perhaps both of you should stop by the club soon, I always put on quite a show. I'll even let you in through the backdoor." With another drag from her cigarette, Violette turns around, her hips swaying, and walks off into the crowd.
"Um..." Oliver says awkwardly as the three walk away. "Tat's Violette. Interesting woman, no?"
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Post by Iole on Mar 27, 2009 1:30:19 GMT -5
If by interesting you mean tramp.
::Iole mutters under her breath. Though Oliver's trying to avoid eye-contact, he can almost swear he sees smoke coming out of her nose. She doesn't say anything else, just follows him inside::
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Post by Book of the Twilight on Mar 27, 2009 13:38:49 GMT -5
'Scuse me, beggin' your pardon, just got a meeting to get to. Douglas Fenway coming through.
::A man at the back of the crowd dressed in what looks like it used to be fine aristocratic clothing is making his way towards the enterance where Oliver and Iole are about to slip through. His clothes are faded and tearing at the sleeves (probably stolen off of a corpse in the street), his lip is covered in cold sores and his hair is patching and falling out in some places, evident even under his wool red cap. At his side is a portly woman with rose-gold hair that would be a brilliant color if it looked like it hadn't been washed for decades. She's wearing a long wool skirt and a simple denim top. She seems a little cleaner in the face than her companion, but not by much. As they near the door, the guard stops them, pushing the man back roughly::
Guard: Back away Doug. You're not a dragoon. Whatever information you have can wait until after the meeting.
Doug: Blimey, after all me' good work for your organization, this is how you repay us, what with me and me' wife riskin' our necks and our business.
::The woman brushes past her husband and places her hand over her forehead in a fainting gesture::
Marissa: The pressure is just getting to be too much. Why one of these days, I might be so tired, some information might just slip from me' lips to a Regent's guard.
Guard: None of that Marissa. You're lucky you're a woman or I would have decked you by now. If you and your husband find that you can't cope then quit. No one's forcing you to stay. But if you even think of breathing a word of what goes on here, I'll shoot you both down in the street myself.
Doug: Now, now, none of that. Marissa here is just a little baked. She didn't mean it. We're all good Lindblum Citizens here aren't we?
::The man known as Doug flashes a crooken grin at the guard with his crooked yellow teeth::
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Post by Iole on Mar 27, 2009 13:50:14 GMT -5
::Iole tugs Oliver's arm and points at the man trying to gain entry::
I'd know those teeth anywhere. Those two were with Gwen at the festival.... I mean Nurse Takano... whatever, what are they doing here?
::The man catches sight of the two of them as they linger by the doorway::
Doug: Ollie, old pal, can you believe this? They're not letting me through. Bet you could slip me in eh? For old times sake?
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Post by Oliver on Mar 27, 2009 14:57:19 GMT -5
Oliver appears awkward about what to do, he tenses up for a moment. "Uh... don'think I can do tat Doug. Ye know te Commitsar's policy about non-LPA in te planning meetings."
Sid meanwhile gives the couple a cold stare. "Don't you tvo have some roaches to crush somevhere? Can't imagine you'd let them ruin any food stores you have horded up somevhere, oh, but that's right, you insist the bugs add flavor." Sid tugs at Oliver's shoulder. "Come Ollie, let's get to the meeting."
The three trail off, leaving Doug and Marissa with the poor guard.
Into a back room, one looks to be the boiler flat for the factory, they enter and are greeted with the sights and sounds of a rudimentary military camp. Munitions over-flow out of crates, guns stacked in boxes, tables with varies devices littered on them. Radios, maps, stray shells, the works. It's a mix of Dragoons and other squads here with their respective officers going over battle plans.
In the back, sitting at a table is Commitsar Reynard, beside him are his close advisers and lieutenants. There emits from him that certain air of authority that surrounds him like a bubble, so strongly that many of the soldiers will subconsciously avoid crossing closely in front of his table.
"Ollie, and your friend, come here." Exclaims Connolly, beckoning them over to a spot away from the larger groups of people.
Once the two confront Connolly, with Sid wondering off somewhere, he folds his arms and looks at them with a serious and stern expression. "Ollie, I had to put my neck out to let your friend come in here and as such I need you to understand the consequences if it was a folly to do so." Oliver nods. "She won tell a soul wat goes on here, right Iole?" He takes a glance at her, yet before she can reply, Connolly speaks again. "Then I need to know-" He looks at Iole. "Are you planning to help us or not, we're undermanned as it is. Male, female, we don't care as long as you can fire a weapon. So, what is it?"
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Post by Iole on Mar 27, 2009 15:14:11 GMT -5
(OOC: The bugs add flavor. So I take it you watched the song. And they so totally do!)
::Iole sighs::
Well Ollie looks like he needs me to keep him out of trouble. And I don't have anything better to do. But I won't be needing any weapons.
::She holds her arm out in front of her, positioning herself in such a way that only Conolly and Oliver can see her. She pulls back the sleeve of her coat and lets her skin shift to pale scales, and her fingers grow into her dragon claws. Then as quickly as it changed, it reforms::
And I have a name. It's Iole: Eye-Oh-Lay.
::She wags her finger at him as she annunciates::
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Post by Oliver on Mar 27, 2009 15:40:47 GMT -5
Connolly nods, he doesn't appear surprised by Iole's ability, but it could just be the military bearing he seems to secrete. "Glad to hear, Eye-Oh-Lay." He smirks playfully "And here." From his coat pocket, Connolly pulls out a yellow armband with a single red-stripe across its bottom boarder, like Oliver's, minus one stripe. "Welcome to the LPA and the first non-Burmecian of the Red Dragoons. Let's begin then."
Connolly walks away, Oliver and Iole following behind, and they come to a table situation in a corner. It is already surrounded by a number of Dragoons and Sid, who sits at a small table just adjacent, cleaning a long barrel rifle. He looks up to see Iole's new armband. "Hmm", then looks back down to the gun.
"Alright, listen up and listen good." Connolly commands as he stands at the head of the table, before him is a map depicting a part of the city. It's held down several large shells and various tiny pieces, depicting units. "At dawn we begin." He points to a spot on a street. "Staging area is here, be there sharp." He begins issuing out battle plans to various Dragoons, explaining in great depth their goals and objectives. Then he gets to Oliver. "Your task will be simple but crucial for the success of this operation. He points to a highlighted building along Gin Street. This is a decrepit structure that is near collapse, we want you to give it that little push. Rig the explosive so the building falls across the street, this, we believe, will cut off any re-enforcements and prevent any possibility that the Guard can retreat. Put their backs against a wall in essence. You'll be going through a back route which we believe is currently not monitored, this will require you to get behind the enemy, keep your eyes and ears open. Iole, as our newest member, you'll be accompany Oliver for this operation. Sid will be covering the regulars advance up the street and won't be able to assist." Connolly turns to looks at Sid. "You ready to move ?"
Sid replies with a clank from the bolt of his rifle cambering a round.
"Then head out, and good luck."
Sid stands up, slings the rifle over his shoulder then brushes past Oliver. "Don't stay up too late." Oliver gives Sid a cold, angry look, to which Sid replies with a simple smile before walking off.
"Any further questions? Any changes or updates will be given to you in the morning. Sleep well, comrades. Tomorrow we take Gin Street."
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Post by Iole on Mar 27, 2009 15:46:11 GMT -5
(OOC: Well that sounded final. I'm off to work now though. I won't be back until 8 or 9-ish mountain time. I'm not sure what that would be for you).
::Iole just nods periodically to the instructions. She's happy they'll at least be away from most of the fighting and the killing. But she's a little conflicted about the "assistance" she'll be providing. In spite of this, she can't help but feel a little proud of the yellow armband she's wearing now. Once the meeting is adjourned, Iole stays at Oliver's side and smirks coyly::
Alright, I'll admit I kind of like Connolly. But how does he know I'm not a Burmecian?
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Post by Oliver on Mar 27, 2009 18:24:53 GMT -5
((7-8, I'm PST))
Oliver rolls her eyes. "P'ease, Iole, tat a serious question? Dunno no one of me kind tat can do wat you do. Beside, ye don have tat scent ta females do."
The place has slowly begun to clear out, Reynard having left a while ago and most of the soldiers not on duty having left for home. Some of the officers remain, huddled over a table, going over more battle plans.
"So ye like Connolly? Ya, he's a good officer, former officer of the Regent Guard's. No one knows why he switch sides tho. Anyway-" He looks around, seeing the place dead. "Wan'ta head back to ta flat?"
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