2018-11-08: To Trust Again

From Dream Chasers
Jump to: navigation, search

<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.


A guardswoman of Arctica scrapes on the blood-soaked pavement. Her muddied face is illuminated by the light of flames consuming the streets ahead of her; she grimaces as she looks to the huddling children, protected by their fearful mother. The roar of Metal Beasts flinch them, as they whimper and cry, "Help...!"

The guardswoman's face falls when she hears the march of metallic feet in the distance. A Metal Demon turns. She tightens the grip on her broken sword.

The Metal Demon, possessed of blonde hair, turns and faces her; scans the huddling victims behind her. She bites her lip as she holds the small-sword in her hand, as if ready to strike... but then lowers it.

"Hurry and leave, now," she adamantly states. A quiet franticness is in her voice.

"What...? Is this a trick--"

"Hurry, before the Beasts catch you," she repeats with urgency.

The guardswoman, perplexed, takes hold of one of the children as she backs away, never breaking eye contact. "C-come on," she grouses, hurrying down the open path down through the town walls.

The Metal Demon stands still as she watches them leave. The deafening shatter of Berserk's metallic ball rings through her ears. The Metal Demon.....


... the Hyadean staring now, at the sight of the hidden village of New Arctica.

She couldn't believe it when she heard of the settlement's existence. A New Arctica, composed of what meagre survivors there were from the attack. She contacted Jacqueline immediately, with whatever means she could, to arrange for supplies from the Fereshte to be brought there. She asked Lydia if her cart would still be suitable, since the Fereshte itself would draw too much attention.

And now she is here, in many ways facing the survivors of what she took part in. Not just facing them in person, but also in guilt, for what she could not do as an individual...

Riesenlied is a far cry from how she was even two years ago during the attack. Much diminished, with scales growing over her, and swordplay is difficult at best with her balance upset. She huddles into her capelet, holding the Tear as they march towards the settlement.

"Just a little bit further. Let's hope we can provide them with necessary supplies," she whispers, trembling under the perennial cold of Elru.

She... wants to be optimistic. But she knows that the likely outcome may not be...

<Pose Tracker> Jacqueline Barber has posed.

Elru. They were finally here. Jacqueline and the Caravan Kinship had arrived some few days ago, but that time had mostly been spent getting themselves situated and adapting to their new environment.

...And, in Jacqueline's case, taking a brief side-trip with Lunata and Shalune.

But now that they were settled in, it was time to get down to business and consider exactly how to proceed. Riesenlied's communication reached her at a convenient time and, of course, Jacqueline readily agreed.

She's with the others now, assisting with the delivery of supplies to New Arctica. She had dropped into the settlement briefly once before to view their situation, so she has some idea now of what to expect.

"I'm sure they'll appreciate it. Supplies are hard to come by around here." Jacqueline replies, looking over to Riesenlied. She studies her for a moment before adding, a little more quietly, "...Will you be alright...?"

<Pose Tracker> Lydia Seren has posed.


Lydia says, "Shane!!! Teach me how to braid hair!"


Lydia has her hair pulled back in a braid. Look not everybody was up to dramatic stuff two years ago. Nevertheless, she she doesn't particularly look like she's flesh and blood anymore so she's not sure how approaching NEW ARCTICA, LAND OF PROBABLY HATING METAL DEMONS FOR PRETTY GOOD REASONS is going to turn out but she suspects it's going to be pretty stressful. That's why she asked Prissa to ride with her. While Lydia DID bring her cart on the Fereshte, Lydia actually figured a SUPPLY CARAVAN would have much better results if she brought the bigger cart, so to speak. The wagon is rolling along towards the village. It may be notable if looked at but it isn't going to be making that much noise or much of a commotion.

"I'm not sure like--I feel like I might actually trigger them just by showing up," Lydia tells Prissa as they ride towards the village. "Which I mean, normally I'm like 'fuck you' about that, but they've actually probably suffered real trauma and such? So I don't really want to spaz them out or anything just by existing? So I guess if they start to freak, you mind using your patented Prissa Diplomacy 'ere? They're like knights and shit so they'll probably love swords. I bet they're like super into swords. And maybe...other weapons that aren't swords, but various bladed weapons I'm sure."

"Guardians." She adds after a moment. "I really hope they don't ask us to do a blood test."

They made Fei take one, Lydia, so they probably will make you take one barring a high CHA roll here!

<Pose Tracker> Prissa has posed.

Two years ago, Prissa was on a different planet! The weather was better.

Prissa has put on a knitted yarn coat that looks extremely comfy and slightly goofy over her usual cleavage-flaunting leather bodice. The supply vest went on over it, making it look even stupider. Prissa doesn't care because her butt isn't freezing off.

"Do you mean call them idiots and shame them for their poor tribe spirit?" Prissa asks Lydia. "Or do you mean more like the thing where I talk like they are blitzers?"

<Pose Tracker> Lydia Seren has posed.

"You never told me what a blitzer is but probably that?" Lydia says. "Unless they're real jackoffs in which case, you know, we should all follow our hearts."

<Pose Tracker> Prissa has posed.

"You know -- aahh -- sports?" Prissa asks Lydia, complete with the hesitation.

"Blitz is sports," she concludes. "My sister is a blitzer. Free agent."

<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.

Noeline's memories of Arctica are terribly, deeply fond ones. For her, it was not the city of their enemies - instead, it was the city where she finally started to find herself, to slowly but surely carve out an identity beyond that of a simple Photosphere soldier. A city where she first learnt about the hustle and bustle that humans could produce, where she first encountered the chaotic energy of life that she so enjoys watching go by.

She can remember the sights and smells of the markets each morning, where she'd learnt to appreciate little trinkets and warm treats. She can remember the sound of clashing blades each time she snuck into the training arena to watch the soldiers learn Arctican techniques. She can remember the peaceful moments where she curled up with book after book, whiling away what felt at the time like an eternity. Even now, the thought of that time makes her a little giddy.

Those memories are decades upon decades old, by now. She couldn't bring herself to visit Arctica two years ago, knowing that she'd only be staying there to ultimately watch its destruction. Unable to excuse herself fully from the attack and too scared of retribution to simply slip away and make her escape, she'd instead watched from a distance as the city burned, offering her respect in the only way she could think of. Somewhere above the ruined city still waits for her - and she'd made a grim promise to herself that this time she'd offer its people a proper farewell.

And yet... here they are. Noeline has always maintained that humanity has a knack for survival, that they will hang on no matter what against all expectations. It turns out that might have been a little hypocritical of her - she certainly wasn't applying it to Arctica, given the way she's staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the makeshift settlement.

For a long while, it's all she can do to stare at the activity around her, the present day mingling with the past. Eventually, she swallows, feeling the hard lump of regret in her throat as she searches for Riesenlied's hand - as much for herself as for her partner. "... let's--" she starts, and for once she's the one wavering before she makes an effort to firm up her expression. "... all we can do is our best. If we can provide even a little hope..." she comments quietly, doing her best to make up for Riesenlied's optimism as much as she can.

<Pose Tracker> Lydia Seren has posed.

Lydia's eyes slowly widen to anime size.

"I ... love ... sports." Lydia says.

<Pose Tracker> Avril Vent Fleur has posed.

To her knowledge, Avril has never been to Arctica. What she knows of it is only what Noeline and Riesenlied -- and to an extent, Jack -- have told of it to her. And the rumors that circulate among towns along the road. A once proud kingdom, wedged firmly towards the ceiling of the world. Destroyed in a single night.

She's not certain what she had expected, precisely -- perhaps those raw ruins still, an unhealed wound turned towards the rim of the world.

But there were survivors. And as people do, they have picked up their life as best they could and rebuilt what they were able. They've endured.

"Oh..." she murmurs, slipping off the wagon once it comes to a stop. As far back as Ignas she's traded her usual garb for something a little more... Drifter-worthy. Something more attuned to the cold. She wears now a heavy long jacket, over a thick woolen shirt and a long skirt -- the one deference she made to her usual preference in attire. Boots and gloves round out the overall effect, and along with her long hair loosed from its usual styling (though bound in braids and ribbons out of necessity due to its length) she would almost be unmistakeable from any other traveler along dusty roads. There's also a hat involved.

"It appears... Arctica endures," she murmurs, gazing around herself still.

<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.

"I'll-- I'll... do my best," Riesenlied whispers to Jacqueline in turn. She might be putting on a brave front, but in truth... she's mortified. Mortified, but at the same time deeply desperate to know who was able to survive, and what had become of them. But... was she allowed to wonder such a thing?

"It's... true," she answers with a wanness in her voice, when Lydia says that she might trigger them. "Um. Worst case, we could leave the supplies, but I'm unsure if they have the appropriate resources to distribute them..."

In a selfish way she doesn't want to admit, Riesenlied was glad Noeline chose to just stay behind and watch. That Noeline hid behind Ebon Zero's mask in Adlehyde. She was happy to provide that cover for her, and pick the scorn up herself, knowing how much Noeline values the sanctity of her identity... it's a little comfort to her, unhealthy as it is.

Arctica endures, Avril says. Riesenlied keeps quiet, because she feels she would just wound it, make it worse.

But it's rather clear that...

Well, there are very few knights around. Not that many swords either. Actually, there's not much of /anything/; it's a hidden cove where there's a makeshift dock for ships to disembark into, and a whole lot of tents.

It rather reminds Riesenlied of the earliest stages of Old Petra and Wayside, in a way. There was good that they could do here, but...

Could they overcome that wall?

The healthiest of New Arctica's population are the first to greet them. A set of guardspeople, not even knights; nothing so elite, just foot soldiers with no country to call their own. One of them approaches, holding her gauntleted arm up with a wave. She has scars on her face.

"Hello there, Drifters," she speaks wearily. Battered. "Are you..." she glances around towards the supply wagon. "Refugees? From Elluria, or further beyond?"

A pause, as she uncomfortably looks towards Riesenlied. Then Lydia. A look of faint recognition is gelling in her, but she doesn't say anything quite yet. But the tension is radiant in her, and you don't need to be an empath to feel it.

<Pose Tracker> Lydia Seren has posed.

Lydia Seren takes in a deep breath that she doesn't quite exhale when the survivor looks her way. Naturally, Lydia probably isn't recognized....for who she is or even, really, what she is. Because Lydia isn't a Metal Demon. Lydia reaches into one of her pouches and draws out the Silver Medium of Rigdobrite, holding it out so the approaching soldier can take a look at it. Lydia doesn't know if Arctica even so much as knows what a Guardian is, but considering they were guardian the Tear at one point, maybe it means something to them.

"Despite my appearance, I'm a shaman." Lydia says. "We're here to deliver supplies. I understand if you can't trust them or would prefer--Riesenlied and I to remain outside your shelter. We ask nothing of you in exchange, so you need not feel compelled to let us in even if you elect to take our supplies."

Can they deliver them on their own? Maybe not, but Lydia isn't going to force anything on a bedraggled people.

Not even aid.

<Pose Tracker> Jacqueline Barber has posed.

Jacqueline offers Riesenlied a smile, trying to reassure her. She knew this wouldn't be easy for her...but she was proud of her, for making that attempt. Noeline offers her reassurances, as well. Jacqueline nods.

...And then, before too long, they arrive. Their approach is not undetected. Foot soldiers come out to meet them. Nothing Riesenlied's silence Jacqueline dismounts, offering a wave in return to the guardswoman's own.

"We're from Ignas." Jacqueline replies. She notes those uncomfortable looks, and the growing tension, so she attempts to offer something to ease that tension - if only somewhat. "I'm Jacqueline Barber, of the Caravan Kinship. My friends and I have come with a delivery of supplies...may we enter?"

Jacqueline isn't visibly armed, but with the situation as it is that may be little comfort to the people who have come to meet them.

Lydia answers as well and Jacqueline nods, having nothing further to add to that.

<Pose Tracker> Prissa has posed.

"Wandering do-gooders," is Prissa's justification on what they are doing here. She smiles as she says it.

(To Lydia she explains parenthetically, "I will tell you of blitz later.")

<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.

For all that Noeline might be overjoyed to see a spark of Arctica still exists, she's seasoned enough and wise enough to temper that joy with a tense sort of concern. Not just for the humans who have been forced to stay hidden away, but also for Riesenlied. The Hyadean has already faced far too much on Elru as it is, and is pushing herself to face even more each and every day - and that thought brings a spike of fear hidden away in Noeline's chest, a desperate worry over her companion's welfare.

"... seems that way," Noeline mutters softly in return to Avril's quiet comment. She can't think of anything else to say, still rather stunned at the sight of the place, and she has to pause and close her eyes for a second to try to steady herself. More than anything else, it's the distant sound of training that is the most familiar thing, even if she can tell from sound alone that the days of strict discipline have had to be set aside in their plight.

When they're addressed, she draws in a slow breath and lets out a sigh as she opens her eyes, stepping just a little forwards of Riesenlied. She would like to think that this situation won't turn to blows, but she's long-since learnt to be prepared. "... we are part of a movement. A push," she declares solemnly. "A large collection of Drifters are coming from Ignas in hopes of quelling back the Metal Demons for good - shamans and warriors and gunslingers alike. We are amongst their number."

She looks aside, meeting Lydia's statement with a nod. "... Lydia and Miss Barber are from Ignas. Riese is a member of the Fereshte tribe... I was walked Arctica's streets as my home," she states quietly. It is not the whole truth, and that leaves her with a quiet feeling of guilt - but her priority right now is getting the people in front of her to accept their aid.

<Pose Tracker> Avril Vent Fleur has posed.

"We are travelers," Avril answers simply, glancing over at Lydia and the others. A nod meets what Jay imparts. "Yes, we have come here from across the sea. Please, worry not. We are here to do no harm. As my companions have said, we bring with us supplies. Would we be able to pass through?"

She's polite. Deferential, even; though tact may not be Avril's first tongue, she has been learning, bit by bit, from Rebecca.

And she can scent it well enough -- the tension. And the fear.

<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.

"Well met," the guardswoman grunts softly. "Hell of a time to visit, though -- between the quakes and the attacks... well, suffice to say not much's left standing that the snowstorms won't, Miss Barber." She doesn't appear like she has a problem with the caravan, after all, but...

The guardswoman does look at the Medium, the words -- 'shaman', but... well, it doesn't look like she quite understands. Despite that, when she mentions 'her appearance', she doesn't pipe up. Not quite yet.

There's a tension from the guardswoman's face as she searches Noeline's. "Never heard of this tribe. And you..." A pause, as she tilts her head. "I thought you looked vaguely familiar. But I wasn't sure."

She raises her eyebrows. "A movement? Putting the Metal Demons down for good?" she sounds a mixture of disbelieving, and mostly also thinking that they must be crazy to take on the metallic threat head-on.

But mostly, she takes a gander again towards Riesenlied.

"Those horns... are familiar," she speaks, as Riesenlied's heart skips a beat. "Are you a Metal Demon?"

Riesenlied lowers her head further, shivering. "... yes," she answers quietly.

A pause... and the guardswoman draws her sword. The anger isn't quite there, though. But she holds it up -- pointed towards her.

"Do the rest of you know this too? Why do you walk with her?"

She doesn't quite manage to bubble up to full-blown anger. Just... a weary, cold-soaked note of horror, like this wasn't what she rolled out of her bedroll and tent for this morning.

<Pose Tracker> Lydia Seren has posed.

Lydia was hoping that would work. She exhales faintly when it doesn't seem she recognizes it so she slides it back into her pouch. Lydia eyes the sword warily as it's drawn. She lowers her gaze, not because she is depressed or trying to show any extra special honor, but rather because she is thinking and doesn't want what's in her eyes to show.

"...Well, that's a mighty long tale." Lydia says.

Lydia has used the FAST TALK skill!

"You see, the Metal Demons have often presented themselves as a monolithic culture because they didn't want you to know the truth! They didn't want you to know...about the Tainted." Lydia curls her fingers into a fist. "The Tainted, Metal Demons that are treated as their own as fodder, as slaves, as second class citizens! They have fought long and hard just to obtain a sliver of the respect their fellows would have from their comrades."

She points to an imaginary distance.

"But they have tired of the fighting, tired of suffering and bleeding just like you. They tried entreating to the Metal Demons to end the fighting, but they did not listen...so the Tainted have left the Metal Demons to follow their own destiny!"

She lowers her hand. "Even now, for the past year, they have done battle against their former fellows, foiling their plots and even assisting in the destruction of the Quarter Knight Berserk!"

She pauses for a moment. "Riesenlied is their leader. She is here to help."

<Pose Tracker> Jacqueline Barber has posed.

'Wandering do-gooders' might, perhaps, be the best way to summarize them. Jacqueline can't help but chuckle at that, perhaps a bit embarrassedly. She looks toward Noeline as she speaks, electing to fill them in a little more on why they're here.

"I'm well aware. That's why we're here. I'm also an accomplished apothecary, so...if you need someone to take a look at your ill or your wounded, I would be willing to lend my aid." Jacqueline says. It was too much to hope that there wouldn't be anyone in need of her services.

And then, the guardswoman stats it clearly - she knows that Riesenlied is a Metal Demon. ...This wasn't the first time that she had to answer a question like that, and the last one was not too long ago. Even so, it didn't make things anything less awkward. She hesitates for a moment.

Why did she walk with her? ...Jacqueline isn't sure she can come up with a satisfactory answer, but...

"...Yes, I'm aware." Jacqueline replies with a nod. "But Riesenlied has proven to me time and again that she is someone who seeks peace. She's put herself on the line for me and the rest of us here more than I can count."

"...So, that's why. I...understand if it makes you distrust us." Jacqueline takes a step back, to give the guardswoman some space.

Lydia manages to give a pretty quick description of the situation. Jacqueline's pretty impressed that she managed to come up with all of that so quickly.

<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.

"I stand with her... because I am one as well," Noeline says after a long moment, her voice clearer than she would have expected of herself. Once upon a time, it isn't something she would ever have admitted to anyone. It was the secret she kept as close to her chest as she could - the secret she hid beneath layers of 'Crimson Noble', the conviction she couldn't be true to during Adlehyde. Even now, it takes an effort to say it out loud... but she understands, now, how important it is to do so.

She's forced to fall silent when Lydia's rather rapid and scattered tale lays out the history of the Tainted and their position amongst the rest of the Metal Demons; despite the tension in the air, the spy can't help but let out a soft huff of muted laughter, shaking her head briefly as she tries to fight back a quiet and perhaps not terribly appropriate smile.

Jacqueline's response is more measured, and gives her a little more in the way of time to gather herself, and take Riesenlied's hand back into hers to hold onto it with a fierce sort of conviction. "... I stand with her because she wishes to turn her back on the hatred of our race, and because she will stop at nothing to atone for it instead. We have fought with humans, bled alongside them, for the sake of the Guardians and to prevent another Arctica. I wish to trust in that."

She keeps her voice soft, and does not risk saying anything more than that, not right now. She could talk endlessly about her memories of Arctica - she could offer it all the glories in the world - but she doesn't. The woman addressing them isn't Jack, but her wounds are just as raw, and Noeline is well aware this isn't the time to rub at them.

<Pose Tracker> Avril Vent Fleur has posed.

'Do the rest of you know this too?'

"I do," Avril answers, deference giving way to a razor-edged directness. She takes one step closer to the guard. "If she is not welcome here, then we will depart. However..."

She pauses, listening on in respectful silence as Lydia explains Riesenlied's particular plight -- facts that the survivors are unlikely to have known. She listens to Jacqueline explain that she, too is aware -- that she trusts Riesenlied. That she understands if this makes the settlement wary of all of them. Listens as Noeline, too, says that she is one herself. That she wishes to atone for what was done.

And Avril looks the guard in the eyes.

"I, too, understand why you might be wary." She lifts a hand to her chest, as if to thereby express her sympathy with the situation. "One might even say it normal. However. Riesenlied and Noeline... I owe them my very life. If they must go, then I shall depart with them."

<Pose Tracker> Prissa has posed.

Prissa considers what to say while Lydia speaks. She glances back to Riesenlied - she has not been close to her but she has heard no ill reports, and the tensions of Filgaia are not her tensions. She plaps her hands on her knees and leans forwards a little, to say afterwards, "What she says is true. I have seen this with my own eyes."

"These people," Prissa says, wiggling her hand as if to encompass everyone, "are kind and caring. I think honestly, this is a little stupid, but I am from a great realm of heroes and mechanists far away, and so I can't judge exactly. Because what I see when I ride around here, what I see with many people like you, is that the good people go around - like Lydia, here, or Jay, they would cut ribbons off their own skin to feed a baby bird."

Now you know how cuccos get that way.

"But everyone frowns," Prissa says, leaning back in her wagon seat and frowning herself. "I think sometimes people would rather die than change their hearts."

"That sword," she then says, snapping her fingers. "You want a better one? I will trade you."

(To Lydia she murmurs, "This is better than paying gil out.")

<Pose Tracker> Lydia Seren has posed.

Lydia looks a little ill at 'cutting ribbons off their skin' and nods quietly. Whether it's to that or the murmur is a mystery (it's the murmur).

<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.

The guardswoman looks just a little overwhelmed. Lydia's talk is truly fast. She blinks a few times. "Tainted? Berserk?" she does digest it, though, at least as best as she's able; she doesn't dismiss it outright, even if the story sounds extremely-- well, it's difficult to believe in her mind, when she hasn't experienced it outright, perhaps.

Riesenlied looks genuinely surprised, but tears up a little as Lydia speaks; she moves closer to her daughter, placing a hand closer.

Jacqueline reassures her as well, as she steps up and answers. Riese glances to her. "It's not like I...." she responds, put on the spot as she mentions a potential distrust. Jay steps back.


Noeline's admission prompts the most surprise from the guardswoman. "You, too? You look-- well, human. I thought Metal Demons were... well, large, metallic -- angry. Like the ones that came to our town--"

She bites her lip, as her companion glances back as well. "Turning your back on the hatred... atoning, huh."

Avril also answers in the affirmation. Alone, it might not have been enough -- but these people were different enough, having significant changes in the way they speak and walk and carry themselves; they were genuinely Drifters, and they each had their story to share.

Prissa offers a trade, after vouching, herself.

"Huh?" she sounds genuinely off-guard. "... I don't have money or anything. All I got's the clothes on my back..."

"... This... this is a bit too much," the guardswoman admits. Her sword doesn't lower, yet. The awkwardness almost feels palpable as she swallows the lump on her throat. But it's a step forward. It's not naked aggression, at least.

"I'm... not going to tell you all to leave. I can't guarantee everyone else'll feel the same. People are... well, they got their own stories. The supplies... your aid with medicine, Miss Barber, I'm sure they'll open up to you with time..."

She lowers her head. The fire in her is gone; long gone. She glances to Riesenlied, then to Noeline again.

"Seeing you again's... bringing back awful memories. Sorry."

She sheathes her sword, and steps aside.

Riesenlied bites down on her lip, lowering her head. It's true, isn't it; no matter how well her intentions are, her presence does dredge tragic memories back to the surface. And would never want to tell these survivors how they should feel.

"Miss Jacqueline..." Riesenlied manages to speak, though she's fighting back sobbed tears herself. "We should-- work quickly and provide these supplies."

<Pose Tracker> Jacqueline Barber has posed.

Jacqueline listens quietly as the guardswoman is...frankly, overwhelmed by the show of support. Jacqueline doesn't blame her, anyone would be. She had no way of knowing what kind of tide she'd unleashed by asking them why they were loyal to Riesenlied.

"...It's alright. My home, Adlehyde - we've suffered at the Metal Demons' hands, as well. It took a while for me to trust again. So...I have an idea of how they must feel." Jacqueline replies, then smiles. "The only thing we can do is extend our hand, and let them reach out when they feel comfortable enough to do so."

It was a sentiment she'd echoed before. With that said, Jacqueline nods toward Riesenlied. She reaches up, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder and offering her a nod of support.

"I agree...let's do our best, right?" She says.

<Pose Tracker> Prissa has posed.

Prissa stands up and hops off the wagon, landing in a crouch.

She steps round, towards the back so it can be driven forwards.

"Pay?" she says to the woman with a scoff. "You offend me. I make you this offer to have a blade from the greatest swordsmith of this generation and you make this sad face as if I have told you the Psyches lost." Whatever that means.

"That is like the Filgaia face - that one you are making right now," Prissa says, as she adjusts some straps and unfastens one in particular. One of the swords on her waist falls to the ground with a cluttery clank; she kicks it upright, grabs it by the scabbard, and holds it out to the guardwoman.

"Perhaps all of you cannot have dreams in your head, after all you have lost. But if you cannot dream -"

Her eyes widen slightly.

"Then I'll share one of mine."

Prissa makes a 'c'mon' gesture with her free hand. "Give me your old sword, take this one. It is a shamshir, do you know it? Only one edge is sharp. Take good care of it; it has my memories of home. If you want to be tough, here, I'll even give you a song to go with it."

<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.

Drawing out a slow breath, Noeline keeps her eyes closed as Prissa and Avril also offer their views. Part of her, in the back of her mind, has to wonder how long it's been since anyone in Arctica has felt such certainty and clarity of purpose - that surely, it's been much too long since anyone here has had much in the way of hope. Though Arctica's guard still live, they are sorely weakened, and a chance to restore their honour is surely not something that has been even vaguely feasible as of late.

"... thank you," she says quietly in response to the poor guard, her head bowed slightly. "And... we understand. We would not ask you to accept us so easily, not after everything, but... at the same time, we could not leave things alone once we heard of your plight. Not if we wanted to prove to you our convictions - not if we wanted to properly answer your pride in your home."

She lifts her head, and fixes the guard with a solemn look; there is a deep lump in her throat, and her fingers close a little tighter around Riesenlied's as she briefly holds back on gathering her partner into her arms. "I loved Arctica. It is my dear hope that it will rise again." For a moment it looks like she might say something more, but she relents, shaking her head, and decides to take a different tack. "... amongst the Drifters will be a man named 'Jack'. If you see him-- well, it would do him a lot of good to see all of you, I dare say."

Quietly, she makes a mental note to make sure Jack does actually get here, even if she has to drag the man.

<Pose Tracker> Lydia Seren has posed.

It's difficult to believe, that's why... THE FAST TALK! Lydia figured if she said the whole story like a normal person she'd be treated like she bumped her head.

Lydia feels she has done in terms of negotiations what she can. She giggles in her hand when Prissa starts talking about 'The Filgaia Face'. The language is a bit spotty, but she seems to get what she means. Or at least find it amusing. She says, "She's being generous." She tells the guardsman.

But then she gives Riesenlied a long look before crossing her arms and saying, "Hey now...you've been meeting up with these folks before already? You owe me like so many story times."

She looks back to Noeline. "He may've already been here. I imagine if he knew about this place, he'd've been in much more of a rush to visit than our bashful crew."