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Winter's Sorrow

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About Winter's Sorrow

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  • Birthday 11/24/1995

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    I'm always lost.
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    Professional Professional

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  1. Hey everyone! I'll be busy the next two or three days with IRL stuff, so continue on without me in the current thread!
  2. This person totally wants to get involved in the Terran military conflict thread as well! (Unless being a part of the current thread for the Aria disqualifies the possibility. Then I'll be fine with just that one.)
  3. Claire was quite taken aback by the woman's upbeat arrival. Even with the unlocked door and each new crew member she met being more friendly than the last, she wasn't prepared to be so readily greeted and accepted. "I-I'm-...wait. Sorry, I didn't really expect to see someone like this," she stammered. "You can call me Claire." Judging by the large woman's appearance (and mannerisms), she was probably the cook. Her judgment was quickly affirmed by Argyle's next comment. Claire was slightly disgusted by the bit of drool on the woman's hand, though at least the cook had the decency to realize it. That would have been quite the awkward situation between the two of them, and not the best of first appearances. "It's okay, I can relate to the exhaustion, but not from cooking in the least." Prim, proper, that's what one should be when meeting strangers. Not her usual snarky attitude or foul demeanor. Repeating the mantra in her head did her no favors, nor did it help her attitude. Claire wasn't the type to stay nice for long, so she wanted to clean up this conversation quickly and find where the captain was, or at least the lookout, Anya. Nevertheless, Claire's anxiousness to escape from the cook tripled after hearing the next question. She did the best to hide her shame, she really did, but what can one do when caught red-handed in the most innocent type of way? "I just, don't have much money to my name. Couldn't afford a trip, had to sneak on," she lied, averting her eyes slightly as she stared at the cook's unnerving smile. It scared her, that smile. There was no possible way for them to know she had been looting supplies from the hold, right? Or had they found the stolen goods? "It's not like I could ask anyone, right?" That's it, time to change the subject. "Would I be able to speak to the captain? I feel the need to...apologize...in person." The word felt wrong, coming out of her mouth. She wasn't one to apologize freely, much less openly declare she was going to do so. Hopefully this brushed off whatever Argyle was trying to pry from her. So she hoped.
  4. Claire didn't know what to hate more at the moment: Cecil, or the trash. Yelling at the captain sounded like the more appealing choice, as the garbage was most likely a seasoned veteran at ignoring profanities. Though, Cecil had weathered enough of her tirades over the years that he would be on a similar level to the garbage in dealing with her. All of this ran through her head as she sloppily collided with the disgusting pile of waste, spilling various articles of whatnot all over the alleyway. She had noticed the captain far too late in her momentum to stop herself, and he looked to be in no hurry to catch her from her sorry mess. As action took its course, she scrambled within the various refuse, managing by no small feat to snag a dirty piece of cloth between her teeth in her struggles. As Claire flailed about, several ominous cracks reverberated throughout the alley, yet she took no heed of them. Whatever it was, gunshots to be most definite, she'd be more than ready to deal with it when she extricated herself from her current predicament. At least the trash broke her fall. Her vain efforts continued until some other object managed to slam into her own pile of trash akin to a cannon shot, finally knocking her out of the trash and onto firmer ground. With a strangled moan of annoyance, Claire propped herself on hands and knees, spitting out the offending object lodged in her mouth. It had been a dirty tablecloth. She snapped a sideways glare to Cecil at his off-hand comment on her welfare. "Don't you even fucking start, captain. I'm hungover, and I just fell from a roof into a pile of trash. I have no patience right now, and you know damn well what that means." She picked herself up, hands once again to her temples. Her vision was still slightly blurry, so she couldn't quite tell who had just explosively arrived by sight, but the sound of their voice told her it was Eli. He must've been in a similar predicament, or worse. "Gunshots, hangovers, can someone please just tell me what happened last night? How the hell did I end up on a roof?!" Before Claire's usual spunk could flare up, however, a piercing headache forced her to calm down. Digging several of her fingers into her head, she backed up against a wall, hissing in mild pain. "That's...not good. This one's worse than the others. Cap, how drunk did I get last night?"
  5. Despite her currently deteriorated mood and increasing exhaustion, Claire couldn't fall back to sleep. She wasn't used to flying in an airship. Instead, she decided to pace around the small hold, in deep thought. Though, he thoughts were too tumultuous to bring anything of note, so she gave up on that too. She glanced to the door to her "cell," remembering how Anya had told her that she had to come out eventually. Was that a metaphor, or a physical action, because it could swing both ways. Curious, she decided to try the door. Did the crew, no, did Cecil decide to not have her locked in after all? Much to her surprise, that notion was true. While she had been hesitant, the door opened with no resistance. Why did they trust her so much? Somewhat scared and anxious, she stalked the lower parts of the ship, both curious of what she would find (or who), and scared to meet someone who was of a less amicable personality to her presence. "H-hello?" she called out, not wanting to be seen sneaking around places she shouldn't be. She didn't have any power here, so she may as well not be a pain in the ass. Yet. "I'm not sure if I should be out here," she called again. Better safe than sorry.
  6. "Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, brea- oh, shit..." An unsightly globule of vomit shot out of Claire's mouth as she lay spread along one of the many rooftops of Cutpurse Cove, soiling the surface of the rooftop. She had woken up in a dizzy stupor just seconds before, having wondered why the sky was spinning at such a rapid pace. She had weathered many hangovers before, but none of this caliber. By the taste in her mouth, she had definitely made a terrible decision last night in what to drink. If she did drink, that is. Where had she gone again? She vaguely remembered having a row with her captain over some usual dispute they had, but the rest remained as a darkened blur. Was the rest of the crew with them? They had to be, right? Cecil would never go out drinking without inviting most of the crew, or at least that's what she thought. Scrabbling at the surface, Claire managed to push herself up and away enough from her vomit to clearly see that she still resided in Cutpurse Cove. A small victory from a night of debauchery, at least. She'd rather not have another incident like the time she managed to make it halfway across the island. Though, her location did provide the difficulty of how to get down, as she was more than a good story off the ground. Claire promptly pushed herself upright, staggering unsteadily from her knees to her feet before falling directly on her back, knocking the air out of lungs. "How the fuck did I get here?" She asked incredulously, massaging her temples as she propped herself back up with one hand. This time she was a little more successful, but she would have loved it if the world stopped spinning around her. She paused for several minutes, breathing deeply as the urge to vomit resurfaced twofold. As she bent over, hands on her knees, did she realize that her left arm was singed something fierce. Her whole arm was covered in various degrees of soot, and now that she concentrated, it hurt. It felt as if someone had lifted a branding iron to her arm. What really happened? It didn't reach her hair did it? Claire quickly shot a hand up to her short hair, feeling it for any irregularities. Nothing besides the usual singed tips after a good night of drinking and brawling, so that was good, but it'd likely need a good wash. Bodily harm aside, she needed to find a way down from her precarious situation and get to the Aria. A quick, more sobered look over the side indicated she did have a way down, though slightly dangerous and disgusting. A medium sized pile of trash was piled in an alley, about a story down from her current height. It was gross, but she'd dealt with worse. She plugged her nose, took a step to begin her jump, and promptly tripped, falling headfirst into the refuse, albeit unharmed. Today was not her day.
  7. My, oh my, oh my. Certainly can relish in the making of all of this. To start things off, I'm all for joining in on a fun conflict during a raid, since I'm far more available now. Second, to help others in our newly created thread, I'll post a general idea of how Claire is as a drunk. She's already aggressive and belligerent without alcohol, but while under the influence, she becomes far more obnoxious in her actions. She doesn't necessarily lose her abrasive personality, but she definitely becomes louder and more boisterous. She'll typically start fights on a whim while drunk, leading to many times where she has woken up with more than a few wounds and burn marks the following morning. Claire has an affinity to the stronger spirits, so she'll usually be among the first handful of drunkards. By all means, make her do something hilarious or stupid. If you have difficulty with figuring something out even with this information, just pass it by me and we'll find a nice fit.
  8. "We'll see when it comes to it," Claire responded curtly, itching to lay her expletives into the next poor sap who dared to look her way. She was stuck here for the entire journey; it was highly doubtful any verbal trouble she caused would be met with much besides stricter confinement. Might still her tongue for half a day at least. As Anya left Claire to her own devices, the young woman planted a palm on forehead and groaned loudly. She needed to suck up her attitude and try being less impulsive. These people were not out to get her. Feeling a small rumble in her stomach, she remembered she hadn't eaten anything since the previous night, and was now feeling quite hungry now her adrenaline had begun to diminish. The tray of food beside her wasn't the most presentable of dishes, but at least it looked edible, so she began to dig in. It wasn't bad at all. As Claire rubbed a few food crumbs from her lips, she thought about what she'd do when the airship landed. She'd be far from Aelindra City, and walking was out of the question. As much as it disgusted her to think about, she imagined her only choice would be to scrounge up enough money to board the next airship and head home to her family. She didn't want to go back, but her current life was more or less ruined now. Barely even an apprentice pyromancer, she needed something to get back on her feet. Stealing wasn't in her best interests after seeing the consequences first-hand. Finishing off the last of her meal, she set the tray down and pushed it aside, more content than she expected. "Perhaps she was right," Claire said aloud, trying to convince herself. "I do need to come out eventually if I want to stay sane. Look at me, talking to myself." With a short laugh, she felt her spirits lift ever so slightly. It was crazy, what happened to her here. She never could have seen any of this ever happening.
  9. All right! Time to dust off the old fingers and actually get around to being a productive member! (Having failed to do so for who knows how long, endless apologies.) Looking forward to making this a fully-fledged official club!
  10. Continuing on that thought, I never found anything wrong with the main or side threads either. The only problem I've seen is that when I've called for making a side thread, I got little to no acknowledgement that anyone wanted to partake in one, so I never did create one. I think it boils down to time and actual interest in the thread. Even though this thread has been dwindling on contributions, I still think we should continue forward. I love the small community we've created, and would like to see it continue to develop even further. As for suggestions on how to change the formula, I remain unsure. The main thread/side thread worked for the first time, but dwindled all the rest.
  11. "Gah! What the hell?" Claire muttered as she was shaken awake. "And here I'd get some sleep and be left alone until you dropped me off..." Sure, the snark was unnecessary and not the most friendly of actions, but she was just starting to get comfortable. Well, as comfortable one could get without a bed to sleep in, but it seemed that problem had just been solved for her. She arched her back, hearing a satisfying snap reverberate throughout the room. Who knew hard flooring and walls could be hell on one's back? "Well, I guess I can't complain too much if you went to all this trouble for a stowaway like me." Claire sighed, noticing the tray of food. She really didn't need anything at the moment, but from the tone of the lookout's voice, Claire decided arguing wouldn't get her anywhere, and accepted the tray of food before setting it down beside her. She'd dig in when she was alone again. "Anyways, you can guess how it is. Stress tends to exhaust oneself, especially when guns are pointed at you, you know?" She said aloud rather caustically, motioning to the captain. She wasn't all too happy about that still. "Fuck....I just...there's a lot of emotions for me to get through. It'd be best if I was left alone before I say something I'll later regret. I'm in enough trouble as it is, being stuck here." A second, two seconds, then three seconds pass. Claire wasn't used to apologizing, but maybe it was necessary. She was practically their guest at the moment. "I guess...thanks, for trusting me," she finished with, a rare smile passing her lips.
  12. Oh my, it seems like a perfect opportunity to make a side thread. Anybody who'd like to join in, I'll gladly take them. I'll take two others, first come first serve!
  13. "No, no, I don't need anything....," Claire trailed dismissively. "You've done enough as it is." She didn't spare the other woman another glance as she left. After the door shut, Claire waited patiently. She could almost feel the seconds tick by in her head as if someone implanted a clock in her skull. It wasn't the largest of rooms, nor the most comfortable, but it was going to be her home for the next however long it took for the airship to reach its next destination. Tick, tick, tick... With a brief scream of anger, she slammed a fist into one of the walls of her prison, instantly regretting the decision as he hand throbbed in pain. Whatever gave her the idea to let her anger off in such an idiotic manner? She was alone, and no one was here to listen to her tirade. Tick, tick, tick... It didn't matter that Anya had showed her compassion. She was still stuck here, far away from Aelindra City. If she were any softer, she might have burst into tears at this point. No, she wasn't a little girl anymore. She made this decision, and she would deal with the consequences. Tick, tick, tick... With a heavy sigh, she gathered some energy within her to produce a flame. It was starting to get a little cold in the hold, and some fire would do well to heat things up a bit. As the flickering energy lapped at the palm of her hand, she peered deep into the glowing light. She didn't expect to see anything, but the mesmerizing strands of flame did good to calm her battered mind. Before even a minute was up, though, the flame died out. Tick, tick, tick... Claire cursed. She still wasn't very good at pyromancy, it seemed. She could barely hold a flame for a minute before losing concentration. Was this what she was to become? A lowly thief, unable to achieve even the simplest of accolades. Tick, tick, tick... Time felt really heavy. She didn't know if hours had already passed, or if it had only been a few minutes. With another heavy release of breath, she let gravity take hold of her body, before sinking to the floor, emotionally exhausted. As sleep began to overcome her, she felt one last intriguing sensation... Tick...tick...ti-
  14. With how great I've been at posting this month, I'm not sure I'm the best pick of the litter. 'Course, I'm interested in joining again, but I'll let anyone else who'd like to join take priority.
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