NagafenOfIlivikitty

'Excuse me sir.' Carrie smiles a sweet smile, beneath her hood and she lightly touches the arm of the fat man. She seems sincere for a brief moment, the same sort of smile you could feel from someone who wants to ask you how things are going, or simply to prelude an inquiry into another’s well-being. 'I owe you this.' And she grips his arm, sending her knee thrusting straight into the man’s crotch with every little ounce of force she can muster. --- Obelia slightly blinks to herself, a slight smile that brightens at that thought. 'Baked goods? Sounds delicious... do you mean bread, by any chance?'

(OoC Response from Carrie: ) Carrie takes the hit and she slightly tears up, a slight shake to her form. She is silent as they exchange and she just stands there for a bit. A smile from Carrie to Amera as her eyes are unseen beneath the hood, tugged even further down. 'It is fine Amera... let's get our money and go.' --- Obelia smiles warmly and slightly nods, not going to argue with him, yet she knows firmly that she won't pick anything too expensive so as to not make herself feel she is taking advantage of his good will. She lightly moves over by him and tilts her head curiously. 'What do you suggest we eat?'

Amera, she finds quite good company and she finds she doesn't really want to hide that much as she talks to her. She smiles again, flashing a light grin beneath her hood as she folds her arms on the table, fingers slightly twiddling with loose ends of her sweaters fabrics. 'I don't know. I never really fought anyone. I don't want to live to fight, but it'd be good to stop a guy from trying to…' She pauses and hesitates. She doesn't like thinking of the extremes some men can go to. She sighs silently and then smiles up to Amera again. 'So where are you from? You're the actual Huntress out of the two of us.' She offers sideways glares beneath her hood, however ineffectual, at some of the men. And then she see's Ignatius, see's him cast outside, even as he gracefully accepts this and leaves. She looks after him quietly a moment. She is silent because she knows the guy can tear most of them apart, yet he is doing this just so they can get some money. And as the fat man comes over, as he waddles his lardy ass along, she stands, brushes her hood back and allows her long, messy brown hair free, spectacles on her noses tip. For the moment, she doesn't think of weapons and threats... She even assures herself, Iggy and Gideon would help them. She instead remarks as coolly as she can, her eyes fixed with the darkest glare beneath cold glass at the man. 'Excuse me. We were talking, as you may have noticed. We don't need a pig faced, rotten looking fruit that's fallen so far from the tree they don't remember what leaves are, talking to us.' Sometimes, you just roll with strange analogies. She finishes though, on a roll, speaking and advancing without care, eyes inches from his tiny, beady eyes. 'My father fixes watches you know. He knows when a watch has an inner working that's broken or faulty. You remind me of those broken timepieces. Faulty. An inner mess. Your head.' She finishes, heart beating so fast she can barely keep the fear down 'your head must be filled with the most crappy thoughts. How I pity you.' And at this point, she can only silently beg Amera to take her away from this before she get's too scared, before she loses her nerve.

Carrie listens quietly as she slightly looks up at Gideon and to Amera, they're talking and their awkwardness making her smile slightly, a bit of a sigh echoing her. Of course, they look like a couple but the way they dance around it, she is reminded of some of the girls she's seen growing up, confused by their own feelings, their own want for something yet not quite sure what it. She smiles a bit and yet as they enter, she tugs her hood up slightly. She thinks rather hesitantly, but tugs the hood up enough. She thinks to herself as the wolf man and the tall man approach the counter and she has a slight thought. Knowing that bargaining can be a hard trade indeed, she moves over to them and yet stops, hesitant. She knows Amera can take care of herself, but with a broken rib or two and left alone for even a second with those guys.. she sighs and just murmurs, maybe another day she can prove her bartering and slightly tugs her hood back down again, casually walking over and sitting at the table with Amera, offering a smile beneath the hood. 'I'm still waiting for the day I find an all female guild... so much of the world to explore..' --- Obelia's eyes brighten and she sighs at an inner hunger poking and prodding her stomach. She glances quietly to Lucinda, offers one tiny bow of her head and stands warmly, smiling to the kindly priest as she walks up next to him still armoured. 'It would be an honour to dine with you, Ken.'

'Oh... Ken, sorry, I was, um... yes, I was sleeping.' She decides that lying to a new person who’s trying to be friendly is never a great idea so tells him the truth, rubbing her eyes with gauntlets and then sighing at the small pain from doing so. Clearly rubbing metal against your own eyelid doesn't pan out the way you'd hope, just the way you'd expect. She does smile up at him politely, her own eyes slightly redder then usual from the tired tug at her consciousness. 'How did you sleep yourself? Well or restless...?' --- So the group has begun to move and she hastily thinks to herself what she can do to help them all out. She listens as to what the need for proof was for the reward. But she blinks, remembering something with a grin. And she flashes it as looks over to them all, moving to try and at least take some meat or fur as further proof of the kill. 'If they try and talk their way out of it, leave them to me. I'm good with the spoken word~'

She hears her listen and she blinks a bit, once or twice, actually speaking before she thinks it through. 'But it must be easier for you... look at you, you're stunning!' She says it, Carrie's eyes resolved, with not a trace of a lie. She smiles hesitantly beneath her hood though, again, Amera’s words so very... well, normal to her. She feels like this girl gets it quite well, a slow closing of her eyes as she thinks silently. Maybe I can be something special. It's not too far out of my reach...

'B... but I can carry...' She is about to get annoyed, but the girl is so gentle in personality... well, more happy, she supposes, she hesitantly follows her to the fire, hood tugged a bit further down and her glasses pushed up. She listens to Amera's request and murmurs… 'Not... much to say... I'm Carrie, my family worked regular jobs... my mom is a market stall owner, can trade milk to a milker on a good day… my father is a watchmaker, he can see the intricacies of the smallest things, but can be oblivious to emotion around him.. I grew up wanting to be something special, but didn't feel like I truly was...'

'.....' She is silent and her cheeks burn at such words and hugs. She likes hugs, who doesn't? She can barely remember yesterday, slowly coming back as well. But she smiles a bit, a slow quiet nod as she moves over and with a huff and heave, picks some of it up, wobbling once or twice.. 'This...i...isn’t...huff… as heavy as I.. thought...'

Slightly tired, Carrie's eyes slip open with a slow blinking against the sunlight. She slowly finds herself wincing at the brightness and she tugs her hood down a bit quietly. However, she smiles a bit shakily to herself, hearing the sound of life from the other three. She'd stayed, she guesses... But soon she's sitting hastily up and can see from the gathering of things and, well, tusks; it's close to time when they have to depart. She rubs her eyes beneath glasses and her hood and slightly yawns as well, a slightly tired smile beneath her hood too to the group. 'Anything...' she yawns again, stretching but quite happily wanting to help '...I can do to help?' --- Obelia shakes awake and her head is hazed over. She remembers with a daze the pleading of her heart for Lucinda to wake, Ken's offer… she had shaken her head and she see's now, with embarrassment, she is still at her bedside, having slept here most of the night. She tiredly sighs and slightly sits up, hair she grumpily blows out of her eyes, messy from being scrunched against the blanket. She looks to the woman and sighs, a slow thought. Maybe she does this, she muses as she folds her arms on the bedside again, because she would like something akin to a friend.

My comp can now access the Hubble Space Telescope. I was quite impressed.

'Hey, they at least tried.' Carrie hides her face again but she quietly defends the Anri Girl and the tall man, clearly the effort shown in taking the boar down rather easy see. Yet she nods silently at the thought of the man who'd overturned the table and quietly, she thinks on him. What made him do that? What makes you see a bright hope and turn your back on it? What did his friend really see? Carrie tries to ask these yet slightly surprises herself, a heavy yawn echoing as she tries to stand up. 'I guess I've overstayed my welcome.. plus I'm a bit tired. I'm going to head back, but thank you for your story.'

'Thwarted?' She blinks again, Carrie quietly confused by the choice of wording. 'When you say thwarted, it sounds like… someone stopped you. Someone stopped you deliberately. Did you just word it wrong or do you think someone sabotaged your experiment?' From the way he talks about his friend’s view of it, maybe that is what happened, maybe he stopped it. So as he lays back and talks of the folly of youth, Carrie curls a bit and hugs her knees, just thinking silently. At the moment, even worrying about her appearance barely factors in. She is quite naive; she realises, to think that the world doesn't revolve, for some people, around personal gain and loss.

It sounds like the story of legend. A search to find something amazing, yet she has not known that it was true, that the people who gave birth, accidentally, to the Anri, were indeed searching for something beyond their reach, to better the world. She listens transfixed, even the blurry details ones that intrigue her. She attentively waits until he has told her, of his friend and then she blinks as she asks, curious from beneath her hood as her eyes flicker with a piqued interest. 'So.. you wanted to help the world, but something stopped you all, caused the transformation to all those who became Anri? And you're friend... is he really your friend now..? Or are you looking for him out of revenge..?' She asks but the last question troubles her. If he had been the one to cause what had stopped them from finding this 'great thing' that would've helped the world, is he looking for him to find answers, or to kill him?

Carrie slightly hesitates, as she's holding her hood above her head, so her features can't really be seen next to the pretty Anri Girl. She watches the wolf man sit down and hesitantly moves over by the fire, setting her body down by the fire as well. She looks up at the wolf man and tugs her hood down a bit more and she folds her legs lightly, keeping her face hidden enough while watching the wolf mans features. Finally, she asks something that has poked her curiosity enough. 'How did it all begin..? The Anri..?'

Nothing special. She smiles still politely but she tries to ignore the odd sting those words come with. She gathers she isn't a glamorous warrior or a stunning vision of loveliness, yet it kind feels weird being called 'nothing special'. As if she doesn't really factor too much into things. She puts that aside for now, as well as the odd, instant hollowness that statement comes with. Not as if she meant anything by it. She is fascinated by the wolf man as well, a curious thought, remembering stories told of the Anri that various gossipiests and merchants spilled when they'd chatted with her mother at her stall. 'You're the original, Ignatius… one of the first of the Anri... is it true you've driven back armies with the mention of your name?' She is curious, how much of him is myth and how much is truth.

'...Uhhhhh...' Carrie kind of stands bemused for a moment as she sees she’s been noticed. She stares for a moment at the Anri Girl, awed by her tail with a slightly wide grin, unaware she may look a bit silly. And she blinks at the big guy. Again, dang he's good lo- ...ANYWAY, se coughs mentally, she smiles politely as she remembers she should around strangers, but it is hard to hold back nervousness. 'Hi there! Um, well... I'm Carrie, you are..?'

? Carrie blinks once or twice and actually grins again, hiding herself behind a nearby tree. She listens intently and is awed by the words of a wolfman, a catlady and a rather tall looking man with quite a cool look to hi- ...All right, maybe don't go that far. She shakes her head a few times and smiles, feeling quite the spy at the moment. Well, she isn't actually a spy, but this reminds her of the time she tried to be a hunter one day while her parents were working and search for a chicken for all of them to eat. And then got chased by a rather large hound left by the local farm- ...Well, all right, she thinks as she mentally recoils at the memory, maybe that's not a good example. How about the time she tried to be a watchmaker like her father and then put some gears that looked pretty in one of the watches he was repairing, which made it, when wound, explode out- ....She just sighs, sticking her head out curiously, maybe a bit too far, though she doesn't know that, to have a good look at them. She ignores an odd stab of jealousy upon seeing the Anri Girl resting. She looks absolutely stunning, she thinks glumly. She looks over herself silently and then shakes her head, but then blinks, having shaken her head straight into the wood of the tree. She winces, a bit absent minded at the moment, dizzily wandering into view without thinking, rubbing her head. 'Owwww!' --- The priest opens the door with a slight sigh, worried that the group from earlier has wandered into yet more violent encounters, returned even more broken and battered. He's a quater right, seeing Langley there, panting and with her hair messy, sweat drenched and her side covered in dried red, some still flowing from the smaller wound as well as her clothing stained in others blood. He forgets to speak a moment yet suddenly finds his voice as she smiles dizzily. 'My...My child, what has cause- 'Don't… worry 'bout it father. Sanctuary… is that still all right?' '…U-um... yes, quite… lay... yourself down on a cot child, I'll get some salves and medicine…' 'Thanks...' She grins a bit stupidly and wanders over with a wobble, falling on her back to rest on the cot. She guesses the cut was deeper then she thought, but she doesn't mind, or was it a stab? She barely stays conscious much longer, but is flitting between awake and sleep, while the priest darts over, slightly pressing a drenched cloth, soaked with medicinal herbs, along her side, her body shaking a bit hard with a pain yet her teeth ungritting after a moment, eyes half closed... he lightly tips a cup of something to her lips and it tastes bad, sure, like boiled vegetables, but she doesn't mind... almost asleep, she coughs a thanks and the priest hesitantly nods, wandering away for the moment. It would be nice if one day, not everyone came here with vast injuries.

Obelia smiles a bit calmer, a slow fold of her hands across one another as her gauntlets slightly taps against the metal encasing each hand. She glances to his offer and she is wary of changing her very beliefs, yet she realises slightly she has no true 'belief system' bar faith in the will of people. She smiles politely but with a hint of true interest in her eyes, their red now calmer then they were before. She nods in answer to his offer and answers in kind. 'I would be interested to read some of your literature, Ken-' she stops though, on hearing about what it is that made Lucinda this way. She nods in silence and her look is also quiet, a slow watch over Lucinda. Good luck, Lucinda.

'Thank you, Father.' She enters lightly at the invitation from him and her armoured self is in full view, her dark hair slightly messy from the wintery mountains. She shivers again yet bows calmly to the priest. She does inwardly smile though, seeing that he is quite effeminate in his look. She prefers this, rather then some stoic male or elderly, strict priest. She actually smiles, a tiny one albeit, but the priest is very gentle in voice and very kind with his words. 'I have no knowledge of any such 'Goddess' and I apologise if that offends you, Father.' She does hesitate; indeed slightly worried this friendly man will repulse from her at the mention of that, yet Obelia sits at the other side of Lucinda's bed and hesitantly smiles again, feeling unused to doing so in a long while. 'Well... Ken, then. Good to meet you. What is afflicting Lucinda?'

Knock Knock Knock 'Am I intruding, Father?' She addresses him with what she thinks is his rank within the church, but Obelia's eyes are wary, her form having slightly edged the door open to Lucinda's room. Her form is slightly shivery but she hides it well, though her armour is tinged a cold blue from the snow that has melted from it, the cold still quite buried within her body. She absently shifts as she looks to Lucinda silently for a moment and offers a small bow of her head to her, a silent wish for her to fight with all her strength to wake up. She stays still, not allowing herself to enter fully unless it causes no dissonance within the room. --- The woods are certainly beautiful. Carrie grins again, dressed in her dark clothing and pants, an scattered curiosity about the woodland around her. She is spending today simply searching around, trying to find interesting things. She'd spent most of today already annoying a butcher by asking him what type of meats he sold, going into a guild and then leaving in wariness after seeing a man clutching his nose quite a lot try to grab for her chest area and then deciding to just... well, wander. She smiles again and walks forward, liking the sound of the grass swishing, the slow cries of birds above the tress. She does blink though, confused at something and both quite intrigued. She see's a fire ahead. or something that glows like one. She ignores for the moment any sense of actual self control and gleefully runs ahead to see what causes the flame to glow so calmly amid the grass. She does slightly blink though, feeling a smell hit her nose that makes her cough hard once or twice. It stinks and smells like... ...oh, that's not good. --- 'Hey... he...y...' Fists pound on the church doors and she wonders why she doesn't just open them. She giggles with a feverish idiocy, murmuring it's rude to barge in unannounced. Yet Langley holds her still throbbing side, ignoring wolf whistles from one or two males who seem to like her body and the dress clinging to her frame, especially due to the fricking sweat. Wash, next time wash, she murmurs in a moment of lucidity but she knocks quite hard on the church doors again…

'Nff…' Langley grips her side and she wakens from half sleep, morning light hitting her eyes and her offer of a low growl returned to the awakening beams. She sits up but falls back down with a wide eyed wince, sighing as she feels for the wound along her dresses side seam. The cut is still there but smaller, something she is thankful for. But with the sticky feeling of her clothing, her forehead feeling like a fog occupies it's inner space, she gathers with a sigh she is sick or something close to that. She mumbles once or twice in frustration, knowing that maybe moving away from the church wasn't her most dashing movement. --- 'Nff…' Carrie rubs her head and she wakens from a deep sleep, morning light dancing across her vision which she returns with an offer of a deep yawn, otherwise relatively happy. She sits up but falls back down, smiling brightly as she lets her tiredness slip away from her, too happy to mind at the moment. She is changed into a light nightgown, gentle purple in colour and she grins warmly to herself, quite content with how the day before and day today has gone. What will today bring, she wonders, as she hugs her blanket? --- 'Nff…' Obelia grips her forehead and shakes a bit, far too wobbly to care much about a headache. She has been walking for some time, northwards and she finds her steps across the mountain ledge far too precarious. She glances back with hazed vision to the distant town of Varthas. She stays still and thinks on the woman she left in sleep… something, close to it. She wonders silently what to do. If what she is doing is the right thing or if, in the pursuit of her father, she is pushing another who could help for the sake of helping, aside. She shifts silently in snow-clad armour and the stains of red across it's dark tones faded. Her eyes are slightly closed, the red confused and angry. She stays there for an awful long time.

'Wee hee…' She grins a bit, rubbing her side and not really feeling much. They'd seemed so sad, all of them and she wasn't really factoring in too much on their well being. She knows she'll heal fast so she leaves them, left them to walk into the church and heading elsewhere. Where is... not too important at present. Maybe she can stay at an inn. She grins again, very, very light headed. She feels something drip once or twice. Maybe she shoulda stayed at the church..? ...Nahhhhh... they all seem fine without her... yeah. She wobbles off with a torn cape, covered in red along her gloves and side, smiling dizzily and sword sheathed at her back. She doesn't feel too bad…

With those words, the form of Langley moves on to the person called Gideon, a slow blink and with a gentle stroke of her hand across his forehead, she mumbles rather lightly back to the guy. Her gloved left hand is tinted in red, yet she doesn't mind. She glares slightly at him, yet a calm moment issues at the glance seen from here eyes, focused on his vision and and his alone 'Stay still a second. This'll hurt a bit...' She draws a ripped piece of her cape up, another torn slice, wrapped suddenly around his forehead as her breaths quicken and slow on random occasion, tightening the wrap enough that it can at least stem the blood flow slightly. She watches him soon get carried, a quiet settling over her as she decides, briefly, to follow on back with them. She smiles as, soon, the town aproaches. Her side is numb.

Well.. that.. helped. Langley's pants grow slightly more silent and from a distance, the screams and crying make her wince. Battle never really offers true solace, just more death, more watching of your friends die or hurt, bleeding in front of you. A vision forms, of holding Noel in her arms with blood coming from her lips- She nearly vomits yet stands up, one final, swift kick to the groaning cultist in front of her, ripping some of her cloak up and leaning behind him, tying his arms quietly. She ignores the bleeding in her side and across her stomach. She hefts her sword shakily, sheathing it lightly and looking back to the group. She wonders quietly what to do yet as she moves over, she sees the sadness, panic and pain over them like a literal layer, as physical as their wounds. Their faces... lord, the worst of funerals could be given a run for it's money at this present moment. 'He.. Hey. Need some.. help there?'

Father. Mother. Forgive me for what I'm about to do. 'Let's dance, boys.' Her words are spoken through a grin and with the three, the first a leering, gaunt figure in a slipped back hood, revealing pale, watery eyes and tiny indigo irises, he raises his sword as his other two companions dart around her, to surround her. And it works to an extant. The second twirls past his companion, bulky and grinning as he takes a light pole-axe, twisting it in his hands to suddenly thrusting it at her midriff, hoping to pierce her stomach. She winces as with her sudden swing, darting forward so her feet are spread apart, her body twists slightly and her sword, two hands holding the handle, literally crashes against the gaunt ones blade, her stomach cut by the pole-axe. Yet the gaunt man blinks, confusion reigns as he jumps, his sword clattered as he didn't quite expect the strength coming from her. An overestimation on his part. She chuckles though. The third man didn't quite make it to starting position. Because as his rather thin figure tried to dart around, sword raised with a snarl of malice across his features, her tail had slipped around, suddenly tugging around his ankles and she had winced again, a snarl of her own as he'd tried, vainly, to cut her tail, a gash across it's side resulting from this wild flailing, yet his form, followed with a cry, slumped back and rolling across the floor. As she'd stepped back and held her arm up, taking a cut with a guttural wince across the arm by the pole-axe man, his own grin growing with each cut... ugh.. a sadist I see.. and taking her blade in one hand, she raises her shoulder, letting his next manic stab rebound, with a small flinch at the re-verb and his slow roar of anger that no blood is drawn, as his weapon only grazes the pauldron on her shoulder. The one trying to get up, she kicks as she dives back, her boots sole meeting his testicles and making his eyes water, panting as her tail slips from him. She watches the gaunt man clamber for his sword and then she grins, a slow call to him as his eyes widen, bulging like a goldfish, then narrow.. 'Come on, wretch, you think the blade makes the skill all by itself? Give it a good swing, come on..' He glares.. anger flickers across him and she smiles. His swing comes and she takes it. One stab to her side, standing still as the pole-axeman thinks they have her, even with their comrade whining at his balls, as his pole-axe draws her blood and embeds her side. But her pain, the white hot pain of the wound, doesn't matter. Because as he swings the sword, she grins. And falls backwards. The pole-axeman blinks.. a confusion.. yet.. he cries out, suddenly tugged, his pride for his weapon not meaning he lets go.. so he trips, the swing of the sword using gaunt man meaning his over swing takes him forward, wobbling.. tripping.. both of them, over the whining body of their third man, both crying out as she dives her hands, growling as she grips their clothes collars, tugs with all her might, ignoring the smell of her own blood. And tosses them with all her strength, both crying and screaming as their bodies are tossed back and their hands land with resounding thuds against the mud.. She pants.. pants hard.. and delivers a swift kick to the groaning man in front of her, to his stomach to hush him, yet shakes, bleeding and trying to sit up, a small coughing smile.. Better then I'd.. hoped.