gotyourwallet

[Since her memory returned after death, Vie's been searching the Keep and the outer wall for something of great importance. It's personal, and so not something she's been wanting to bring to the public eye, but desperation and a lack of other options has left Vie will little choice but to do so.]

Everyone, hello. I ah, I've a favour to ask.

[It feels weird to be talking about it, let alone to a crowd.]

Around two weeks ago I was killed, the one responsible, whether he intended my death or not, walks freely among us. At least until dusk.

[Vie is yet to decide if she'll attend or not. She's angry, but something else has the bulk of her attention.]

In my death I lost a few things. Clothes, namely. And a dagger I carried in my boot, but more importantly, I've lost a bracelet. It's brown, leather, and very important to me.

Should anyone find it, please, please return it. It means more than you'll ever know.

[A pause. Vie sighs.]

Thanks.

[When Vie speaks, her voice is quiet, words more to herself than anyone else. In the background a man's voice, or rather that of a pumpkin, pleads with her to kill him.]

You look the part, but you are not him.

[It's been a long time since Vie's let herself cry, and be damned if she does so now. To the pumpkin she continues:]

In asking for death, you dishonor him. I'll not have his blood on my hands a second time.

[That's right Vie. You tell that pumpkin. :|b

She stands, breathes a sigh and this time, directly addresses those in the Keep.]

How is it that they know who matters? Perhaps this is a punishment. The past dragged forward to remind us of what we've lost or where we've failed.

[A beat. Vie starts her way away from the pumpkin, choosing to turn away from the carved face of her fallen master rather than give in to it's plea.]

Stay out of my head, Deior.

[The book snaps shut, thus putting an end to her entry.]

I was under the impression that these cells were our own. Forgive my lateness is stating as much, but there are clothes in my quarters that are certainly not mine.

[Or belonging to anyone else that she's had in there lately...]

Feminine attire, would be my guess. And not from my world, either. If anyone is missing clothes, let me know.

[She'd be tempted to keep some of them if they were actually her size. Sob.]

Unrelated to that, I've a question about the birds that swept through the Keep... What are they, exactly? The black ones. There are similar back at home, but none quite like this.

[Alright. She's done now. ...Or is she?]

Ah. One last thing.

[And she scribbles on the page.]

V >> Pirate V33 is wondering where the furrocious beast has gone...

How is it that the dust storm cleared so quickly? I've never seen anything like it.

[Pause. Oh dear.]

Unless...

[Cue realization that the few hours in the tunnels was actually much longer than that.]

..Just how long were we gone?

[Hell with this, she's off to get herself a drink. Vie can be found in the Stable Tower bar area, sitting on the counter with her journal and a second book filled with notes and drawings of various things she's seen in the Keep. An open bottle of liquor sits on the bench beside her as she writes in the second book. The words written do not broadcast or translate. How odd...]

[The first sound to grace the airwaves was a yawn, moments later followed by a voice.]

I wake to find a storm on the borders, on the approach, it would seem. It might be in our best interests to not wander outside too much. A sandstorm is worse, but a dust storm, assuming that's what this even is, can be near choking.

[She might have lived through a few of those in her lifetime.]

What I want to know is wher--

[The question lingers as to just where the dust is coming from, but as she was about to ask, Vie noticed something... wasn't quite right. She switched to her native tongue, words more alert than those before.]

What in hell is that!?

[End transmission.]

[Sitting on a ledge part way up one of the towers is Vie, her Journal in one hand and a half consumed bottle of liquor in the other. Since the trial she's been keeping quiet, avoiding the crowd and deliberately making herself scarce. There was a lot on her mind, and the trial had proven to be the shock her relaxed had been waiting for. A reminder that this place was not safe, and that it's people were just as much a risk as the ones she knew from home.

Journal open, she skims the page before muttering in her native tongue.]

 It would seem no matter where I go, nothing changes. The same corruption lingers.

My question to you, all of you, is a matter of species. What are you? Where do you come from? How alike is this world to your own?

[That's it. Vie falls silent. Anyone walking around outside might notice the girl sitting on the tower ledge, but try to get close and she'll climb away.]