2019-07-04: Selfishness and Defiance
- Cutscene: Selfishness and Defiance
- Cast: Pearl
- Where: Mi'ihen Highroad
- Date: July 4th, 2019
- Summary: Pearl makes a series of reckless decisions.
When Pearl stopped to think about what she had done, she would realise how foolish and hotheaded it was.
It was defiant. Defiance that could mean death.
Could she be sure she wasn’t seen? She knew her fellows were in Spira. She was good, but it was a huge risk.
Was it a risk worth taking?
These things ran through Pearl’s head as she stepped through the shadows of Luca, a body over her shoulder. A living body. A woman she hated. She came to the outskirts of the refugee camp, and placed Jean against a ruined structure on one side of the road.
Pearl looked down at Jean, and wondered exactly what had gone through her head at the time. She could have killed her. Would that have earned her master’s praise, perhaps? Would it have made her the strongest student? No, not while Jean was this weak.
Killing Jean as she is would have meant nothing. It just would have snuffed out something in Pearl. Something she would have denied was there.
Was this just in return for what Jean had done for Pearl, so long ago, at Lunn’s Tournament? Had Jean not interfered, she would have been unmasked for certain and imprisoned, if not killed outright by the cult. As much as she hated it, she owed Jean her life. But it didn’t feel like a simple debt
Or was this hope? A hope that Jean would finally return to her senses? Become the strong warrior she was born to be? Take the cult from the hands of the Master? Why did she allow herself such folly? Such childish hopes that Jean would be some kind of savior, some kind of glorious figure of vengeance?
Pearl shook her head, and turned away. She didn’t have time for this. She couldn’t afford to be seen to be skulking around. She’d had another purpose this day, and it would not do to lose her chance to misguided sentiment.
She disappeared off the road, and pulled free the tools she needed. Potions, to dull the pain. She downed one in one, saving a second for later. It would not knit the wounds she received facing the Maester. But it would help for when it came to masking them.
Next came the dye- a vibrant green from the plants of Kilika. She unbraided her silver hair, and worked the substance into it. It took time, but it would be sufficient. She looked over at the ruin by the roadside. Such a small similarity, but perhaps even that could be a benefit. A useful misdirection, if worst came to worst..
Then came the false teeth- well, real teeth, but not hers. She works them into the place where her fang once sat. Uncomfortable, but a necessity.
Makeup comes next, time consumingly applied, to hide the worst of the scars. They were still there, and those who looked hard enough would notice them, but it would be enough for a cursory glance. I
Next, she changed, from the bloodied gi she wore, into something unlike her. An outfit of blue, a bustier style top, with long unconnected purple sleeves. The sleeves terminated in rings of white and cyan, with a long segment of yellow cloth. Her skirt is blue, hanging loosely from the hips. It’s the same blue as the top, with rings matching those of the sleeves at the bottom. Finally, there are simple sandals, humble and of Kilikan make.
She dug a hole, shallow but concealed in ruins, She threw her gloves and boots into the hole. The empty potion bottle is discarded on the ground nearby. Swiftly, carefully, her things are all hidden under the earth. She memorised the place, so she can retrieve them when the time came.
This did not help her mission. Either of them. She knew that. This was a selfishness, a desire born from her own failure.
Selfishness and defiance. Two terrible traits for one to have if one wants to survive.
She would likely suffer a terrible cost, if she returned. She would have to prove there was worth in this. But she had committed to do so. She could not walk away.
With a deep breathe, Guardswoman Pearl disappeared from her body, buried away with her weapons.
In her place was a young woman. A woman of Kilika.
She made her way toward the Refugee camp. It was there she would begin.