audaces fortuna juvat ([info]caliah) wrote,
  • Music: Beastie Boys - Sabrosa

[Cal] Return to HQ - RP short

Characters: Rude, Thesia, Cal, Vandre
Just a test-scene of sorts, useful since Rude, Cal and Vandre had just returned to HQ. Cut off since people had to go.

Imperial Palace - Lobby

The lobby is quite simple yet as impressive as the rest of the Palace with high-ceilinged walls that are covered from top to bottom in expensive and luxurious looking tapestries, and numerous paintings of ancient and famous peoples and royalties of the past. Two pathways lead off towards the west and east wing that disappear around the corner, and another, wider path leads northwards towards a second set of even more impressive double doors towards the dining room.

Contents:
Vandre
Rude
Obvious exits:
<East> [leads to 'Imperial Palace - East Wing']
<West> [leads to 'Imperial Palace - West Wing']
<North> [leads to 'Imperial Palace - Dining Room']
<South> [leads to 'Imperial Palace - Front Gates']

[Rude:]
It was a shame he still had not been officially reinducted into the ShinRa portion of Imperial power. A shame because he couldn't yet get back into his favored blue suit and tie and had to go on wearing the ratty tattered clothes he had come by when he found his way to Traverse town. But he was grateful for the fact that the brunt of his miserable trip back to home base was over with. He had not looked forward to revisiting the Middleverse to get back, but thanks a spell of protection from Latila, he didn't have to bear the dark mind influencing power of that place. And he had noted that he was steadily getting better from when Ansem had reached through his chest and touched his heart. He was much less paranoid of his own shadow and the felt the urge to search it for glowing yellow eyes less often. But it still pawed at the back of his head, insisting that he make sure the coast is still clear.
Rude right now is just wandering. He stands out a bit due to the nature he is dressed, but there is a badge hanging around his neck. A Shinra custom instead of an Imperial one, and if further pressed he was also given documentation to show who he was, and what he was soon to become; Turk. This HQ was much more.. luxurious then the one he had been familiar with, but he supposed very different people built it, and it would take some time to get used to the idea of working in a 'Palace.' Though he's been very adaptive to his new surroundings so far. He stops for a moment, and looks up to a painting of some royalty figure he's never even heard of. He lowers his sunglasses down toward the tip of his nose to study it a little closer with his naked eyes.

[Caliah:] Soft, heavy, booted footfalls resound mutedly on the length of carpet stretched along the length of the lobby, approaching from the south at a leisurely pace and long stride; a tall, lean silhouette slips into the hall, framed fleetingly by the daylight streaming in through the open door, her shadow ghosting before her on the floor, then pooling at her feet as the last rays of sunlight relinquish themselves to the light from within the hall itself. Starkly clad in comparison to the lavish furnishings, opulent tapestries and wall-hangings, the individual - pale-haired and white-skinned, what little of her remained exposed in the dark garments she was garbed in - cuts an unusually drab figure, unmarked by anything but her unusual colouring; yet her demeanour - calm and watchful, taking in west and east and north with barely perceptible side-glances - suggests one in command of herself, regardless of place.

Nevertheless, she hesitates, sharp violet eyes easily making out the figure of the Turk in his all-too-familiar suit, as much a uniform as any drabs that belonged to the others who served Shinra - and one gloved hand pulls at her collar, a restless gesture perhaps, or an uneasy one. Difficult to discern, what with that impassive countenance, the veiled gaze. "I still have trouble adjusting to the Palace up till now," is murmured beneath her breath, directed at her companion as she resumes her pace.

[Vandre:] A young and tall man slips in after the pale-haired figure, falling her pace as he gazes around, eyes widening slightly as he grazes his lower lip with his teeth. "I never get tired of it" he replies, pausing for a moment to admire the lavish decor of the lobby and the many paintings. "I don't think we had much art at the Shinra Headquarters back in Midgar, or did we?" He asks, thinking out loud for the most part. His own self reflection tarries him and he moves quickly to catch up to his companion, who kept moving despite his own digression.

[Thesia:] "Welcome to the imperial Palace.." replies an almost sweet, melodic voice from somewhere behind Vandre, though there is a certain tinge of firmness there too, her accent touched with a cool, icy tone which goes well with her frigid demeanor...Definitely NOT your average SOLDIER, she could probably be mistaken easily at first for one of the fabled espers, though she is less flashy and dressed more conservatively. Long, snow white hair flows behind her as she enters the lobby, matching well with her pristine white uniform which bears the considerable rank of General, but more noticeable is her pale frost tinged skin. No doubt she is one of the few, mysterious half-espers that has joined the Imperial Power. As she comes into plain view, she nods to Rude, offering only a somewhat cool smile towards the only Turk here that she knows from a long time back, "Rude. Good to see you made it back here alright...And you must be Vandre.." she nods in turn to Vandre, "And...SOLDIER Caliah, I believe?" a nod is given the other white haired woman now, no doubt having recognized her from some file or other.

[Rude:]
At the sound of footsteps, Rude carefully pushes his sunglasses back against his face. Though he doesn't look toward the source, and continues watching the painting as he can't be described as admiring it. He's only looking at it because it's there and it serves to draw his attention somewhere. He reacts to Caliah and Vandre as they walk by, half turning to face them and giving them a polite nod. There was a sense of security being back amongst the soldiers. He shrugs his shoulders at Vandre's comment about ShinRa not having any showcased art. He wasn't sure himself, and if there were it would have been in an execs office for sure and not in some lobby. As Thesia makes her way down, Rude turns completely around and faces her. "General." He speaks formally, Offering Thesia the proper respect for such a rank. "...The trip was brief.. and not as difficult as I suspected." He continues. and clasp his hands together in front of him. Even in his tattered clothes he still manages an air of authority because of his size and demeanor.

[Caliah:] Precise and smooth as one accustomed to protocol, the lithe female SOLDIER that Thesia had named issues a crisp salute, and a courteous, if no less exact, "General,' in cut-crystal tones. Rather than distracting the other woman and the suited Turk from what might commence as a conversation, she slants a mildly curious, observant eye at Rude at his mention of a 'trip,' lips thinning slightly in thought as the man speaks.

Only when he does finish does she venture to speak, if briefly. "We'd just returned from Middleverse, ourselves, having tested two vehicles that were slated for distribution. No mishaps or accidents, which was a particular stroke of luck, considering."

[Vandre:] Gaze lingering on some of the art once again, Vandre pries himself free and hurries to move to Caliah's side. "He--erm, General" he says, voice deep and smooth as he offers Thesia a formal salute. His gaze falters as he eyes the bald-headed man in the suit. In a blink his attention focuses back to Caliah. "Oh, right...the bikes, they rode smoothly. Didn't sore up the legs at all. Mechanic sure was pleased about that, though not especially..." he catches himself, coughing as he turns to face Thesia once more, eyes glinting.

[Rude:] He turns walking back toward Thesia, Caliah and Vandre. He steps within a few steps of them and crosses his arms over his chest. ".... I think I'll be needing one of those vehicles soon." He glances upward slightly. "..Unless I'm needed to stay here." He continues and glance from Caliah to Vandre, then to Thesia. "...I also need to be refitted.. and re-equipped." He says, finishing. His head tilts up, and he begins eyeing the darker corners of the lobby suspiciously, but shakes his head, pushing the paranoid thoughts back out.

[Caliah:] The luminous, electric glow to Caliah's gaze might be seen to flicker slightly at Vandre's words, a pulse of lightning within the heart of a storm - but rather than clouded or thunderous, her ice-pale profile remains unmoved as ever but for the curve of her mouth, her lips having taken on a distinctly wry, amused cast. "I don't think that Research and Development had creature comforts in mind when they produced them," the tall young woman observes in a deceptively bland near-whisper, her stance straight and steel-backed in the well-fitted longcoat she wore. The amusement is, however, all too fleeting - as Rude voices his need for a vehicle and equipment, she flicks her quiet gaze to him.

"The motorcycles aren't fitted with any particular defensive devices but for the usual armaments and weapons storage," she informs him. "That and their speed, but their agility leaves something to be desired. Less weight on the frame maybe. That remains to be seen once they formally issue them, but perhaps you could road-test one as we have."

[Vandre:] Eyes flitting from Rude, to Caliah, to Thesia, Vandre keeps equal study on all three. He remains silent, teetering a bit at random times on his heels as if fidgeting, be it restlessly or anxiously. Throat shuddering he coughs and peers up at the speaking of the bikes. "Still...comfortable and getting here to Traverse Town doesn't take all that long." He pipes in before lowering his voice and falling back into silence.

[Rude:] Rude listens quietly and attentively. "...It will do." he speaks softly. "..I intend to do some searching..." and perhaps... a seek and destroy, Rude says the last bit to himself. Not wanting yet to let on what happened in Traverse Town, he doesn't want to unintentionally fulfill Jacks prophecy, and probably would not return himself if he could help it. He turns slightly, waiting a bit in place. "..Can you... point me in the right direction for my refitting?" He ask.

[Caliah:] The pale-haired female SOLDIER merely keeps her regard upon Rude, impassive but for a faint flicker in her eyes at the Turk's...hesitation, his refraining to voice whatever he had been about to say. She cants her head as if remembering, passing a finger lightly over her lips. "I believe you might inquire in the west wing, on the second floor, unless they've moved the clothing and supply room elsewhere. Of course it's been a good few months since I had any need to visit them, since I have uniforms and the like sent directly to the garrison or where we're stationed."

A fraction of a pause, and Caliah queries, as if in afterthought, "Are you being assigned anywhere in particular over the coming few weeks?"

[Rude:] Rude nods, glancing over into he direction of the west wing. "I understand." He says shortly, he doubted his measurements were still on file and imagined he would have to go there himself anyway, then wait a few days for the suit to be created itself. He had so much to do and wasn't sure how much time he had to do it in. Though Turk training had taught him to be efficient when possible. He sets off in the direction pointed out for him, possibly mumbling a word of thanks? It was to low to be heard for sure. However he stops, when she begins speaking again. "..."
He turns and looks back at her. "...I've received no orders since I've arrived here.. other then to... 'sit tight and familiarize myself with the palace." He says. "Why?"

[Caliah:] "Call it idle curiosity." Caliah's voice never shifts in tone, inflectionless and unchanged. She hooks a wrist over the protruding hilts of the weapon sheathed at her hip, pausing. "It's also useful to know where there are potential allies, in the case trouble comes knocking. It has a habit of finding one when it's least expected." The cliché slips easily through her lips, almost blithely, though her manner seems far from casual, if indeed it ever really was. "Don't let me keep you."

-----
Character descs:
Rude
You begin to size up the tall dark man in front of you. Glimpses at his form reveal an intimidating demeanor. He is a large man, who towers over his fellow Turks. Everything about him screams that he likes to be efficient. He wears a very dangerous looking suit. A glance would confuse you into thinking he could be a paper pusher, that the suit he wears was well kempt because it seemed to be in good order. However if your close enough to pick out details, you would see small scuffs. Imperfections litter what from a distance might have seemed a well pressed suit. The fabric of this suit has seen many battles, and has been carefully mended quite a few times. These mends however have been camouflaged very well.

Dark glasses perch on the edge of his nose. Hiding his eyes from the outside world. Very few can attest to the color of Rude's eyes as he is rarely seen without them. He would wear them indoors, but not at night. His face itself appears to be chiseled from stone, his brows and cheeks molded to a very stern shape, giving him the appearance of almost constantly scowling. He also appears to care more about the upkeep of the hair on his head then on his chin. A slight gleam reflects off his ritually shaven head, while less then managed facial hair grows on his chin approaching upward to a nonexistent mustache.

Long legs lead down to tightly laced boots. Dark scuffed pants, kept in the same fashion as his jacket, hang from a black belt. The pants themselves contain deep pockets, where Rude keeps an assortment of gil and a few extra clips for his primary weapon. His sleeves conform to strong muscles. Giving Rude the overall look of a civilized brute. Punctuating his sleeves are fingerless gloves with golden studs on the tip of each knuckle.

Before you, stands an unmistakable Turk.

Thesia
Piercing golden eyes peer coolly upon you, hidden beneath a mane of cerulean tinged, snow white hair. Her bangs are long and layered, falling to chin length where they gracefully trace the curve of her heart-shaped face. Her silken hair continues like a cascade of water, flowing down her back and several inches past her waist, wild and untamed yet shining with a healthy glow. Her features are elven and cat-like: Her nose long and slender, tapering off to a slight point at the end, and a slight frown often graces her thin blue lips. Her ears too, are long and slender, and slightly pointed near the tips much like those of an elf. Her skin is the next thing to notice, a milky white with a touch of pale blue in color like frosted glass, yet soft and smooth like rippling silk. It seems to nearly sparkle with an ethereal aura. Standing at 5'5, she is neither tall nor small, but somewhere in between, her body lithe and athletic, her movements fluid and graceful..As for her age, she seems to be somewhere in her early twenties. All in all, there is a certain cool and dangerous aura about her that seems to attract both friend and foe alike.

Pristine white leather hugs her torso, forming a sleeveless jacket top that zips up the front, panelled with simple blue panelling along the front and sides. A set of matching leather sleeves cover her arms, and oversized shoulder pads adorning the logo of the ShinRa protect her shoulders from harm. The sleeves continue down her arms, ending in a set of fingerless gloves that reveal her slender blue fingers beneath. More pristine white covers her legs, it is form fitting yet flexible, the light leather material providing ample protection against most blows and cuts. A set of matching knee pads, also bearing the ShinRa insignia cover her knees, continuing over her shins to form long leather boots sporting a slight heel. About her belt she carries a long and slender rod-like weapon that springs out into a deadly trident.
Tags: cal, rp

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