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Post by Keera Ufton on Nov 20, 2010 12:30:41 GMT
There were days when she hated being a General. Most days she only hated being an exorcist. Today, she hated her clothes. The black and gold coat was heavy and she was tired. Travelling was harder than fighting Akuma, she knew that much. At least Akuma didn’t cancel everything because it was too stormy. Just getting to Australia had been tough enough, but now that she was here she had found nothing. There had been some rumours that a friend of the Order had informed her about, but they appeared to be nothing more than rumours. There was no anomaly here. No one in Sydney even knew of the rumours that had been circulating outside of the country. False starts like that always annoyed her.
It wasn’t as if she was asking for much. Maybe sudden snow, a werewolf, an earthquake that only destroyed on house…? She’d seen stranger. And now she was stuck in Sydney until she could get a flight out. It would cost a stupid amount to book one within the week, and she doubted that the Order could afford much more with the way they’d been with money lately. It was as if they were trying to get her stranded halfway across the world.
Keera didn’t nod a thank you to the waitress that bought her the sandwich she’d ordered. She didn’t even spare her a glance. She was too busy slipping the coat from her shoulders - how was she supposed to eat when the sleeves went past her hands? The black tank top didn’t hide all of the marks and bruises she bore, making her look like a ruffian. She was used to it though, and didn’t even feel the curious stares that were shot her way. The sandwich was not the same as back home. Ham, she had thought, would be the same in every country. Over the last few years, she had learnt that this was not the case. It was not ham in Australia. She still managed to enjoy the food, mainly because she was ravenously hungry.
Once she was finished with the food, she ordered another cup of coffee. From her travelling bag she pulled out a thick, old book. It was bound in leather and the spine was creased. The edges of the paper were abused by age and the text was hard to read in places. Who had written it, and the name of the story, had long since faded from the pages. She had found it in the library at the order, and decided to bring it on her explorations. Coffee in one hand, book in the other, she relaxed in the chair.
If she couldn’t treat this like work, she would have a little holiday.
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Post by Kenneth Steinberg on Dec 8, 2010 1:12:42 GMT
The conference had just ended and a steady stream of shirts and ties began to file out into the sunlight. Ken placed a hand to shield his eyes from its glare, loosening a button on his shirt and adjusting the green stethoscope that hung around his neck. He wasn’t used to this heat, especially in the month of December. Whilst it was bitter and snowing back home in the UK, it was the beginning of the summer for Australia. A quick glance at the watch on his wrist revealed that the conference had finished an hour early, giving him time to kill. His hand dropped back to his side as he began walking, footsteps falling into a steady rhythm as he cut a path through the crowd, the buildings of Sydney towering above. For a while he simply walked, enjoying the fresh air and the opportunity to stretch out the cramps in his legs. For once he could enjoy being human, being a doctor, no Akuma, no Earl...and no damned Exorcists. A smile crept across his face as he ran a hand through his hair, which was short and spiked in contrast to its usual shoulder length.
Tragically his warm demeanour and smile would die in their infancy, as a woman by the window of a small, quaint coffee bar drew his disbelief. The black coat, with its intricate gold symbols was unmistakable; the woman had to be a General of the Black Order. He cursed in German as he carried on walking, disappearing into a side alley to gather his thoughts. A grimace broke across his face, evidence of an internal struggle as he was wracked by indecision.
By the time the small bell announced his entrance, Ken’s features had resumed their usual serenity. Green eyes scanned the seated patrons, glancing briefly over the Exorcist as his footsteps led to the counter.
"Hi, yea, I'd like a tea, earl gray. Thank you"
He returned the waitresses’ smile, several heads turned at his British accent, curious as to the new arrival. Taking his tea in hand his eyes again search over the various seats. Thankfully the Cafe seemed popular and the nearest empty seat was opposite the General, negating the need for pathetic and rushed excuses. He slowly made his way over, balancing the tea in one hand and a folder of academic papers in the other. He slipped back into the usual charade, all warm smiles and kindness, the personality he had possessed before his rude awakening as a Noah. Despite his best attempts, his eyes and smile still portrayed a sadness over that which had been lost.
Excuse me, I was wondering if this seat was taken?"
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Post by Fuhenori Shirokane on Dec 8, 2010 2:08:20 GMT
( HURRY ON, HURRY ! )
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Annoyance passed through his features, bringing a deeper frown to his face. They had told him to join up with General Keera Ufton in Australia but had not told him where.
Which brought him to his current predicament: Where in the world (or Australia) would a general be?
Fuhenori supposed he could listen for rumors of strange happenings and follow word around for a bit, but that was time consuming and time was something that he didn’t have. Folding the map away none too gently, he shoved it in his pocket, picked up his bundled sword and duffle bag. Stepping out in the sunlight, he decided Sydney was as good a place as any to start, he supposed.
At any other moment, the exorcist might have paused to revel in the normalcy that was Sydney. Completely oblivious to their hidden war, people wandered and walked the streets, some sightseeing, others making quick daily pit stops at bakeries and grocery stores, making light conversation with the workers within. It was this sort of calm and peace that the young man had always wished for. Something slightly normal for once. Something that didn’t have anything to do with power-imbued fragments or clanking, broken remains of what used to be human souls. Others would be appalled, he knew, for who wanted to trade such excitement for a life of tasks that seemed trivial. But Fuhenori wanted it. Fuhenori would trade several lifetime’s worth of excitement for one where his biggest worry would be getting a job or finding the right school. But such a thing only became reality in dreams.
Turning around a corner, the exorcist thought he caught a flash of gold. Silver eyes sped up in their searching, skimming over the street, he was disappointed not to see the fleeting color again. Oh well. Searching for the general was like looking for a needle in a haystack. And with the amount of pedestrians around, this was going to be a long search.
Or maybe not. Through the transparent window of a café, Fuhenori caught the glimpse of gold lining again. The black coat made the topaz stand out just like it did for his red. There was no mistaking the garment that hung over the chair. He took a glance at the woman who sat in the chair. She looked relaxed, reclining back with a cup of coffee and a book. If not for her coat, he might have just ignored her, for she looked like any other civilian and telltale bruises marring her pale skin told him everything he needed.
He moved closer, slowing down as he reached the busy corner. Weaving his way through the crowd, Fuhenori made it to the door of the café. Barely hearing the bell tinkle a welcome, his eyes immediately locked on a stranger. Over the quiet chatter that hovered in the air, Fuhenori heard the voice that belonged to the stranger but not the words his moving lips spoke. The young man had never been good with people and with the unaccounted stranger hovering at the edges of the equation, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to approach the general now…
”Can I get you anything, sir?” The waitress approached him timidly, like the stoic expression fixated on his face might bite her. Unknowingly, she made the choice for him. ”No thank you,” he replied, keeping his low voice polite. Before waiting for her to speak again, Fuhenori had already allowed himself to move towards the general. ”Er…Gen—“ He caught himself just in time, remembering the stranger, ”Keera Ufton?”
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Post by Keera Ufton on Dec 8, 2010 18:37:45 GMT
Keera sipped her coffee, frowning at a particularly faded word. Each letter left only a small echo of it’s previous form on the paper, and this was making the book extremely frustrating. The woman was used to faded books, she had been using stories from the Order’s library as company for years, but the oldest ones there were barely readable – and it seemed this was one of the older volumes. A sudden tinkle from a bell sounded against the constant buzz of the patrons, and Keera was reminded of how tuned her senses where sometimes. She could already feel a headache coming. Still, she reminded herself, there were worse pains in the world.
She tossed her head, the hair that covered one of her eyes being flipped out of the way, revealing a tired, scarred eye that was squinting intently on the page before her. Her nose was slowly closing in on the paper, and she could smell the musty scent of old books that she had grown to like almost as much as she disliked people.
”Excuse me, I was wondering if this seat was taken?"
Keera didn’t respond for a moment, but the world in which there was only her, the coffee and the words missing from her book had shattered and now lay on the shoulders of the person before her. After half a minute of silence, she raised her head and looked at the person.
He was tall, taller than her but not by too much. With her sitting and him standing, he towered, and she did not like that. He was smiling, and although Keera was slightly unsettled by that smile, she wasn’t really in a people mood right then. Or ever. Completing her study of the form before her, Keera’s brain decided that some maths was in order. Man + stethoscope = doctor. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, immediate dislike for this man rising to the level of avoidance. All in all, she was not fond of him already.
“That seat is reserved,” ‘for people who annoy me less’. She stated, placing her coffee on the table and frowning in the man’s direction, reluctant to meet his gaze.
Had she been able to dismiss the man with little effort and return to her book, she probably would have beat the next person who spoke to her, but at that moment she would have been glad of the company of anyone else.
”Er…Gen— Keera Ufton?”
But that was just taking the mickey. The first thing that she recognised was the uniform, the red and black clothing was hard to miss. Her russet coloured eyes flew to the person’s face. It was not one she knew, whether she had seen it before or not.
Keera easily met this person’s silver eyes, her powerful gaze lingering for only a second before looking the boy up and down. He was definitely young, possibly younger than she had been when she had first joined. After taking in the fair skin, and black hair she decided that he seemed to be looking down at her. Literally. And frowning.
“Someone up there really hates me.” She muttered, finding herself stuck in a situation that denied any sort of logic; her two favourite things in the world – doctors and exorcists – turning up in Sydney and now they both wanted to sit with her. And one of them had used her given name.
“Ufton,” She corrected shortly, before closing the book with a reluctant frown. “I don’t like you,” She turned to the doctorman and frowned. That was the closing statement for him.
“Sit.” She ordered the young exorcist, placing her book on the table with more care than she had expressed to either of the two people present.
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Post by Fuhenori Shirokane on Dec 16, 2010 2:12:23 GMT
( HURRY ON, HURRY ! )
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He must have missed something, because the man looked stunned. Silver pools gave him a once over, taking in a thick stack of papers and a stethoscope. From the way the general glared at him, Fuhenori could only think that she wasn’t all too fond of doctors. ”Sit.”
[/i] Her voice was commanding, hardened by the unforgiving years. Eying the doctor, Fuhenori took the seat that the older man hand been intending to take. Dropping his bag unceremoniously next to him and placing the sword lengthwise across the table, he sized up the woman. Fuhenori decided she was not the talkative type. The book she had spread out in front of her seemed to capture more of her attention than either man before her. That didn’t bother him one bit. Instead, it would make this mission (could it be called a mission? Supervisor had just told him to find the General, not what came after) easier. The waitress from earlier eyed them, wondering if she could come over. A poke from her boss sent her hurrying over, too high heels clacking loudly. Fuhenori sighed, watching her fidget with her pad of paper. Her mouth opened to speak words but the exorcist cut her off before a sound could come out, ”Tea. No sugar.” With a grateful nod and a small, unsure smile, she walked away to get his beverage. Sparing a glance around the room, Fuhenori leaned back in his chair, letting himself relax as much as he could. It wasn’t truly ‘relaxing’ but more like letting his muscles loosen from the bundle they usually were when he was away from headquarters. Watching her intently, Fuhenori wasn’t sure what he was waiting for and a silence drifted lazily above them. Silver pools soon wandered, delving suspiciously into the chattering crowd. Conversation had never been his forte. Playing with a loose string on his jacket, he muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ to the girl who placed a cup of steaming tea before him. With a slight bow, she scurried out of there as if their silence was contagious. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/size][/font][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by Keera Ufton on Jan 10, 2011 16:22:42 GMT
The doctorman, she decided, would probably get the message and leave. If he tried to stay she would have little patience for him – he was a doctor after all. Keera instead turned her attention to the exorcist. Or, more precisely, the sword that he placed on the table. She could easily tell that it was his Innocence. It was large, and thus she concluded that he could be one of two people. Like many she’d come across before, unskilled and annoying, or like those she preferred, able and not quite as annoying. For everyone’s sake, she hoped he was the second.
The sound of high heels didn’t make her turn her head, but her eyes surveyed the waitress closely. Watching the exorcist cut across the waitress, and taking note of the simple way he ordered, she relaxed slightly. He didn’t seem to be someone who would waste her time with friendliness and running around in order to save everyone.
The silence that settled around them almost lured her into resuming the chapter she had been struggling through. Her hand unconsciously moved back to the spine of the book, and her eyes moved from the exorcist to its bound cover. But she was stopped by questions that lingered in her throat. The Order had merely tipped her off about the so-called anomaly and then let her go about her business, as normal.
If she were the suspicious type, she’d think that the doctorman was from the Order, sent to try and give her the check up that she had delayed for so long. But Keera had never really been suspicious. Well, maybe a little bit. Or quite a bit, but that was a while ago. Maybe she should knock the doctorman out just to be sure…
And this new exorcist. She was aware that maybe her body was wearing down, and she wasn’t the most able of fighters anymore. Even if she synched fully with her Innocence, age and illness had slowed her reactions by the millisecond that could save a life – or a soul. Half of her wondered if this boyman was the Order’s way of keeping an eye on her, checking when to order her back home or if they thought she was incapable.
Or maybe he was going to hold her down so that they could do that checkup.
“Name?” She enquired lazily, her hazel eyes turning a piercing gaze back to the exorcist. Things could get tricky if she continued to refer to him as ‘Exorcist guy’. Or she could change that to ‘Sword guy’, but there were a few of those as well... “And why are you here?” Although she turned her glare away, the question held the same air as her eyes.
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