Clare (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
demisemidemon) wrote2012-03-11 04:24 am
demisemidemon) wrote2012-03-11 04:24 am
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She leaves through the door, the same way she (apparently) came in.
And she's back: her foot lands on forest loam. Behind her, there's the sound of a door swinging closed, and when she looks back there's nothing there.
Clare stands for a moment, looking back at the leaves and tree trunks and air where Milliways used to be, and isn't.
Then she starts walking again.
She comes to the town of Mena. It looks like any other village of the east -- a little bigger than some, a little smaller than others, its high surrounding wall more solid and in better repair than many. Stares and whispers follow her down the main street, and necks crane as the villagers watch her passage.
Look, it's a silver-eyed witch!
The silver-eyed slayer's come!
She'll definitely find the yoma. I wonder how long it'll take? They say Claymores never fail...
She'd better not fail, with how much this is costing us.
Shh! She'll hear you! What if she gets mad?
Clare understands the awe -- most of these people have never seen one of the organization's warriors in their lives, and she knows how strikingly inhuman she looks -- but not the surprise. These villagers were the ones who sent out the request for her to come, after all.
The headman approaches her, trembling but eager, clutching a heavy sack. "Thank you for coming!" he gabbles, trying to pretend he's wholeheartedly eager and not at all afraid. "We've gathered your fee..."
"I don't need it," Clare says. It's the same old conversation, the same old script; she's only half paying attention to the way the man's face slackens in bewilderment. The yoma is nearby. "A man dressed in black will come to town in a few days. Give the money to him."
The headman starts to answer, but Clare ignores him, striding past. The yoma is -- yes. There.
She draws on her yoma power as she moves, a sharp inner tug at her demonic core that floods her veins with hungry strength and turns her eyes into golden slit-pupiled beast eyes. No more than that -- just ten percent of her power, not enough to deform her face or muscles or change anything but her eyes -- but she's not as strong as Teresa was, and she needs it.
One swift leap, too swift for human eyes to properly follow, and her sword swings once.
Gasps and shouts arise around her, but Clare ignores them too. She slashes her claymore downwards sharply, flicking purple-red blood to the ground, and resheathes it.
"You're lucky," she tells the headman. "You only had one."
The gasps and shouts change character as the body (and, some feet away, the top half of the head) of what had been a cabbage merchant slowly reverts to the huge distorted corpse of a yoma. It was hiding inside the cabbage merchant's body; they usually do. It's the only way for a yoma to take on the memories of a human it's killed, and that's the best way for a yoma to successfully hide in a town full of people who know each other well.
Clare starts walking again.
Half a day's walk outside Mena, she finds a pool. She stops to wash. She doesn't need new clothing, because the yoma didn't wound her or tear her uniform, but she stinks of yoma blood.
She thinks of Teresa at times like these. When she's alone, at least.
And you stink, too, says Teresa's light, amused voice in her memory. You reek of yoma blood. Didn't anybody in town help clean you up?
The memory hurts, but she'd rather hurt than forget Teresa. No matter what Teresa would have wanted.
When she's clean, she puts on her uniform again, and settles down to wait.
Eventually, Rubel comes. He is, as always, black-clad and smirking, with his wide-brimmed hat pulled down over his eyes. He has Mena's fee in his pack. Clare looks at him.
It doesn't occur to her to ask about Milliways. If he doesn't know, she has no particular reason to tell him. If he does know, he won't necessarily tell her anything anyway. They don't chat, even if sometimes Rubel tries to, and smirks when it fails. As far as Clare's concerned, her only business with her organization contact is to get assignments and supplies from him.
"You've got another job," he says. "Go west about three days' walk, to a village called Narasen."
Clare waits. "Anything else?" she says, when he doesn't proceed.
"What, you want to know the details?" He smirks down at his feet. "I'm sure you'll handle it."
So he's in that kind of mood. He's right, though; Clare's a warrior of the organization, and that means she'll handle it or she'll die trying.
She stands, sword in hand, and turns away.
Another surprise door opens to Milliways. This time it's a battleground full of monsters -- some with auras, some without, all unfamiliar.
At least Clare knows what to do with that.
(No violence rule, indeed.)
She's never faced an army like this, though. Her fighting has always been against yoma, a handful at the most. (And even for that, the organization often sends multiple warriors, but then Clare can sense two other warriors, somewhere across the battlefield.) These monsters are coming in wave after wave, and half of them don't even have any auras she can sense, which makes them even harder to fight. They're slower than yoma, and most of them are less tough, but there are so many of them. Just when she's realizing that she could lose this fight -- that there are more monsters, and more, and more, and she's not even sure what she's protecting, except that there are humans fighting too -- that's when the ground opens up under her, and she falls, and --
and she's back in the forest.
Still injured, though. It happened. She's just back.
...
So that's weird.
She heals, and then she suppresses her power again, and starts walking.
Nothing else to do.
And she's back: her foot lands on forest loam. Behind her, there's the sound of a door swinging closed, and when she looks back there's nothing there.
Clare stands for a moment, looking back at the leaves and tree trunks and air where Milliways used to be, and isn't.
Then she starts walking again.
She comes to the town of Mena. It looks like any other village of the east -- a little bigger than some, a little smaller than others, its high surrounding wall more solid and in better repair than many. Stares and whispers follow her down the main street, and necks crane as the villagers watch her passage.
Look, it's a silver-eyed witch!
The silver-eyed slayer's come!
She'll definitely find the yoma. I wonder how long it'll take? They say Claymores never fail...
She'd better not fail, with how much this is costing us.
Shh! She'll hear you! What if she gets mad?
Clare understands the awe -- most of these people have never seen one of the organization's warriors in their lives, and she knows how strikingly inhuman she looks -- but not the surprise. These villagers were the ones who sent out the request for her to come, after all.
The headman approaches her, trembling but eager, clutching a heavy sack. "Thank you for coming!" he gabbles, trying to pretend he's wholeheartedly eager and not at all afraid. "We've gathered your fee..."
"I don't need it," Clare says. It's the same old conversation, the same old script; she's only half paying attention to the way the man's face slackens in bewilderment. The yoma is nearby. "A man dressed in black will come to town in a few days. Give the money to him."
The headman starts to answer, but Clare ignores him, striding past. The yoma is -- yes. There.
She draws on her yoma power as she moves, a sharp inner tug at her demonic core that floods her veins with hungry strength and turns her eyes into golden slit-pupiled beast eyes. No more than that -- just ten percent of her power, not enough to deform her face or muscles or change anything but her eyes -- but she's not as strong as Teresa was, and she needs it.
One swift leap, too swift for human eyes to properly follow, and her sword swings once.
Gasps and shouts arise around her, but Clare ignores them too. She slashes her claymore downwards sharply, flicking purple-red blood to the ground, and resheathes it.
"You're lucky," she tells the headman. "You only had one."
The gasps and shouts change character as the body (and, some feet away, the top half of the head) of what had been a cabbage merchant slowly reverts to the huge distorted corpse of a yoma. It was hiding inside the cabbage merchant's body; they usually do. It's the only way for a yoma to take on the memories of a human it's killed, and that's the best way for a yoma to successfully hide in a town full of people who know each other well.
Clare starts walking again.
Half a day's walk outside Mena, she finds a pool. She stops to wash. She doesn't need new clothing, because the yoma didn't wound her or tear her uniform, but she stinks of yoma blood.
She thinks of Teresa at times like these. When she's alone, at least.
And you stink, too, says Teresa's light, amused voice in her memory. You reek of yoma blood. Didn't anybody in town help clean you up?
The memory hurts, but she'd rather hurt than forget Teresa. No matter what Teresa would have wanted.
When she's clean, she puts on her uniform again, and settles down to wait.
Eventually, Rubel comes. He is, as always, black-clad and smirking, with his wide-brimmed hat pulled down over his eyes. He has Mena's fee in his pack. Clare looks at him.
It doesn't occur to her to ask about Milliways. If he doesn't know, she has no particular reason to tell him. If he does know, he won't necessarily tell her anything anyway. They don't chat, even if sometimes Rubel tries to, and smirks when it fails. As far as Clare's concerned, her only business with her organization contact is to get assignments and supplies from him.
"You've got another job," he says. "Go west about three days' walk, to a village called Narasen."
Clare waits. "Anything else?" she says, when he doesn't proceed.
"What, you want to know the details?" He smirks down at his feet. "I'm sure you'll handle it."
So he's in that kind of mood. He's right, though; Clare's a warrior of the organization, and that means she'll handle it or she'll die trying.
She stands, sword in hand, and turns away.
Another surprise door opens to Milliways. This time it's a battleground full of monsters -- some with auras, some without, all unfamiliar.
At least Clare knows what to do with that.
(No violence rule, indeed.)
She's never faced an army like this, though. Her fighting has always been against yoma, a handful at the most. (And even for that, the organization often sends multiple warriors, but then Clare can sense two other warriors, somewhere across the battlefield.) These monsters are coming in wave after wave, and half of them don't even have any auras she can sense, which makes them even harder to fight. They're slower than yoma, and most of them are less tough, but there are so many of them. Just when she's realizing that she could lose this fight -- that there are more monsters, and more, and more, and she's not even sure what she's protecting, except that there are humans fighting too -- that's when the ground opens up under her, and she falls, and --
and she's back in the forest.
Still injured, though. It happened. She's just back.
...
So that's weird.
She heals, and then she suppresses her power again, and starts walking.
Nothing else to do.