I'm getting tired of starting again
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Maea Valair
Loreseeker

Age: 22 | Height: 156 cm / 5'1 ft | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 5 - Strg: 13 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 21 - Luck: 11
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#1
In a perfect display of feigned confidence, Maea walked into the realm of warriors with back straight and her head held high.

She had plans. Great ones, fueled by nothing less than a desire to become the best version of herself that she could be. Nothing too grand, mind. Just one picture of herself laughing and at ease, with a place in a guild where she would be one among equals, where she could be trusted to pull her own weight and lend a hand to others when needed. Like they did for her now.

Those visions required training. A means to change the less able pieces of who she was, melt it dow and reforge her into something stronger. Something braver.

Someone a little less breakable.

Problem was, she had no idea where to begin. So as she stood on the yard before the barracks in the early morning sun, hair tied back in a business-like braid and with breeches and a shirt to replace her usual tattered dress, she looked around for someone who might be able to help her.
MAEA
just a glimpse of truth
Permission granted for magic/violence, short of killing.
Unless otherwise stated, Maea is always wearing Ludo's Rags around her shoulders.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
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#2
Deimos
Morning routines changed and altered considerably from the course of Fiat Lux’s events: still rising early, still maneuvering before the sun rose, but it was without fixtures, until he made his way towards the infirmary, and then threaded between guildhalls and barracks thereafter. It was a constant moving forward, nearly hellbent on not sinking, not tracing his way along fathoms and depths, not attempting to wallow, to seethe, to fall straight back into melancholy. Action and response, response and action, footfalls following one after the other, traces of foundations and formidable reaches he could always grasp hold, tether a line towards, formulate in the thick of their sorrows.

A routine, a habit, even now, as his sword slashed towards the intended target. The straw and reeds hissed at his dedicated strike, at the rise of the argent blade into its softening surface, parting, cutting way through newly assembled limbs. It was exact and precise, honed from days of such inherent training he could likely commit the same actions in his sleep – listen to the beats of war blasting in his ears, in his flesh, in his bones, entangled and immersed in their tempestuous riches. Again and again, accords ringing through the bowels and innards of the poor individual (bound to be re-stitched and repaired thereafter), concentration pinpointed on power and meticulousness (shifting in and amongst the scars of the festival too; where they all could’ve done more).

When the target had been stripped apart, another casualty, Deimos began to pick up the pieces, gaze fixating on the damage, where he could’ve lacerated deeper, stronger, ferocious might instilled in the backdrop of the potent annihilation. Only on the sounds of another approaching the training yard did his attention finally deviate from his task, pulling back the wild threads of his mane, swinging his head towards whomever else deigned to use their grounds.

He was surprised to see Maea – not a ghost, not a wraith, not a specter, but alive and whole, amongst the conflagration of weaponry and brutality. It was an out of place notion, one that made him blink several times, before tracing back to the last time he might’ve seen or spoken to her. “Maea,” the beast announced, rumbling assertions and vocals across the cast soil. “What brings you here?”
Out of sight and out of mind
Make everything alright
So let the sky and sea collide
Just not in our lifetime
Maea Valair
Loreseeker

Age: 22 | Height: 156 cm / 5'1 ft | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 5 - Strg: 13 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 21 - Luck: 11
Played by: Chan Online
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Posts: 1,543
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#3
No doubt he found her out of place. Maea did too. And she could see why it might take him a few moments to register her presence there, because... after sifting through her memories, the only time she could recall them ever actually speaking was at the Aetheneum. Sheltered within the safety of sturdy walls, hiding amongst books and scholars. A sad ghost, a white sheet of paper as of yet unwritten, ready to drown herself in a world of ink.

And she still was all that. For all that she had braved the rising heat and the harsh sunlight, Maea just didn't seem made for such things. In a few hours her face would likely burn and flake as eyes burned from too much light, and the milky white skin more resemble some colorful work of art crafted by the Artisan's Guild. But. She was tired of letting things like that bother her. Tired of being out of options when the moment came to take action.

"Hi Deimos," she said with a little smile. "I'm looking for someone to help me train. I want to learn how to fight." Approaching the General, she felt a bit like a rabbit waltzing up to a bear. He was impossibly big compared to her, tall enough that she had to tilt her head back to look at him properly, and probably twice as broad. No doubt he could pick her up and throw her if he felt like it - she sincerely hoped he wasn't in the mood - but still she stood her ground, hands held in a good show of calm by the sides.

No fidgeting, no wriggling about. This was going to hurt, but she'd already made up her mind.
MAEA
just a glimpse of truth
Permission granted for magic/violence, short of killing.
Unless otherwise stated, Maea is always wearing Ludo's Rags around her shoulders.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 1,618
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#4
Deimos
Blade tucked back into his belt, he maneuvered the target back into its original stature as best he could, likely more repair work needed at another time, attention still riveted and deviated on Maea’s arrival; the words lingering around his mind in some air of bewilderment. He didn’t expect her to come stand on the precipice of combat, readily giving into some torrent of either violence, defense, or assault (sometimes all; when the vitriol took hold, when boldness was no longer so far gone). Then again, perhaps it’d been the shifting times in the world, after they’d shaken off Zariah (only to have her return), after heaps of sieges upon themselves during LongNight, after the debacle at Fiat Lux. Maybe all of them should’ve been taking remedial lessons in how to survive and live in the unrelenting world, biting into the danger, into the treachery, and unfurling their own.

That was what he’d built the barracks for anyway. For all of them – to learn, to rampage, to safeguard, protect their own. This was his role too, to ensure they could and would. A diversion from anything else cluttering his mind.

She approached, and the General glanced down, crossing his arms over his chest in quiet, careful study. She was small, and what was forsaken in power and strength could be combined into swiftness, dashing, drawing, extension of arms and limbs, then rushing out of the way of another torrent. It just depended on how she intended to fight. “What did you want to use?” Weapons? Her fists? Everything all at once?
Out of sight and out of mind
Make everything alright
So let the sky and sea collide
Just not in our lifetime
Maea Valair
Loreseeker

Age: 22 | Height: 156 cm / 5'1 ft | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 5 - Strg: 13 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 21 - Luck: 11
Played by: Chan Online
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Posts: 1,543
MP:
#5
He did not shoot down her request, nor try to dissuade her. For that, Maea would be eternally grateful. Whether she was suited for combat or not was unimportant in her mind, nor was she interested in explaining why she wanted to become capable of violence. If questioned, she would have simply stated that it was not so much for the desire to be dangerous, as it was the need to have the option, the choice - and above all else, the ability to defend herself. Strong enough that others could not fault themselves for it, if she got hurt.

"I don't know what would be suitable," she replied, admitting to her own lack of knowledge in the area. "Jigano has taught me the very basics of the rapier, but I think it would be better to try other things too. Perhaps some weapons are more approapriate for someone my size than others?"

Not even aware that fighting without arms at all was an option, Maea's gaze trailed towards the equipment set up about the yard. The ruined pieces of Deimos's practice target caught her attention, making her simultaneously impressed and daunted. Would she be able to do that too, in time?
MAEA
just a glimpse of truth
Permission granted for magic/violence, short of killing.
Unless otherwise stated, Maea is always wearing Ludo's Rags around her shoulders.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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#6
Deimos
The General was a prominent believer in anyone and everyone learning how to defend themselves, to be capable of wielding some form of weaponry, of munitions, in case of a thousand different scenarios. This world was dangerous enough without someone walking and wandering into some disaster; especially since given their celebrations as of late. He wouldn’t ask if she intended to linger in violence, in vitriol, in vehemence – it wasn’t his business or concern. She’d come here for the opportunity to try, and he wouldn’t spurn or refute. His role was to provide aid and assistance in acquiring skills, in training, and anything else they required militia wise.  

Except she didn’t know what she wanted, which meant they’d have to search. He wasn’t surprised to hear of Jigano or rapier skills; the long, thin sword would’ve been appropriate for someone of her size and stature, given its extension, striving to match a larger opponent’s reach. The beast surveyed again, briefly glancing, ascertaining statures, before nodding. “A bow, spear, or polearm could be effective.” The bow for distance and no need for close combat; precision built into its foundations, but would require upper-arm strength to wield it for long. The spear was another predilection towards lengthy space, but with a dis-advantage of potentially only one use if she craved to hurl and throw. The polearm would be a lengthy expansion of her presence, and depending on the weight of the small ax or metal at the end, could be light enough for her to utilize effectively (especially if she’d have any previous experiences with staffs).

Perhaps it was best to let her choose anyway. “Come see the armory.” She’d have a wider selection, options, to anoint and decide upon, and he maneuvered back towards the barracks themselves, intending for her to follow into the designated room, lined with shields, and a massive assortment of munitions carved and created from his own hands.
Out of sight and out of mind
Make everything alright
So let the sky and sea collide
Just not in our lifetime
Maea Valair
Loreseeker

Age: 22 | Height: 156 cm / 5'1 ft | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 5 - Strg: 13 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 21 - Luck: 11
Played by: Chan Online
Change author:
Posts: 1,543
MP:
#7
Reveling in the acceptance, in the unquestioning aid she was offered, Maea considered the options the General suggested as she followed him to the armory. The bow was a hunting tool in her eyes, one she'd never excelled at due to weak arms and lacking endurance - setting traps had been her preferred method, as it saved energy she sorely lacked in those days. Feeling herself grow stronger and healthier now, however, she knew it would be wise to try it again. Similarly, the spear had been a defense against wolves or the occasional boar, but it did seem more weaponlike to her inexperienced eyes. Of course the sword was the ultimate weapon as far as she was concerned, because wasn't that what the heroes of the stories used to slay beasts and defeat their foes?

And stories was really all she had to fall back on, as she balked at the sight of all those weapons. Blunt weapons, sharp weapons, short and long and everything in between, it was an impressive display of mans imagination at it's most inventive - how best to harm their fellow men - and the only ones she recognized were the simple ones. The bow. The spear. Rapiers and heavier swords, daggers... and a plain looking staff that piqued her interest enough to walk over and pick it up. It was lighter than she'd expected, but still heavy enough in her hands, and unadorned, save for metal at the very ends. Turning it over, Maea enjoyed the easy way it swung through the air... but she set it down again soon enough.

"What do you teach to those who just joined your military?" she asked, turning to Deimos. "I honestly don't know anything... starting at the very basics might be better than picking something out now."

No doubt she wouldn't be able to run for more than a few yards without getting winded, let alone swing one of these deadly tools without hurting herself, or seeing her arm fall off.
MAEA
just a glimpse of truth
Permission granted for magic/violence, short of killing.
Unless otherwise stated, Maea is always wearing Ludo's Rags around her shoulders.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 1,618
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#8
Deimos
Where he saw potential and normalcy in the roots of metal, in the jagged, serrated edges of munitions, others might have seen disasters, destruction, and ruin. He’d been too harnessed and harpooned into their oblivion at a young age to judge them as anything else, pieces and extensions of guarding arms and fury. The notions sequestered as his eyes scanned things he’d created, and deigned to unfold, unfurl, further: what could balance from a man’s arm and maul another, what could ensure protection, what could manifest devastation? What was necessary in the upcoming days? In the upcoming years? Because once, twice, and then the rest flowed together into patterns, spiraled thereafter; circles and echoes of warfare and mayhem, of abhorrence and annihilation, the clenching of teeth and expelling of lungs. Some reaches in his mind wondered if he was bound to be resented for bringing it all into the fold here – where there hadn’t been such strife and misery. Or if it was only a matter of time after Zariah had lanced and laced her claws, her clutches, into the world. The Sword was here to teach, to honor, to protect, to guard – he didn’t know if the same could be said for the Merciless and her ilk.

Patient, he watched and waited as Maea inspected a variety of munitions, seemingly focusing on one of the polearms, light, but capable of forbearing. Then placing it down after touching, after testing, and he said nothing. Maybe the sight did her in. Maybe the notions sunk a little too far.

When she turned to him though, pondering over baselines and those that had come before, there wasn’t a simplistic answer. “It depends on the individual. Some come from similar worlds like mine.” They’d already seen, they’d already ruined, they’d already thrust their way through frontlines and descended into their consignments. They’d already experienced hell and didn’t mind returning. “Some already have the basics or preferred weapons.” He paused, piercing gaze not quite settling on any specific blade or bow, mind whirling over where she’d be best suited, if she didn’t want to pick up any particular notion now. Thereafter, the depths of his eyes returned to her. “If you want to wield something efficiently, you will need endurance and strength.” Only Maea would know how much she could handle, and he’d allow her to be the judge of how far too push, when enough was enough. He had a pull-up bar outside, and hadn’t started on creating weights yet (something in the near future perhaps, when he required more distractions), or she could always run, rampage her way along the outskirts of the training grounds. “Where would you like to begin?”
Out of sight and out of mind
Make everything alright
So let the sky and sea collide
Just not in our lifetime
Maea Valair
Loreseeker

Age: 22 | Height: 156 cm / 5'1 ft | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 5 - Strg: 13 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 21 - Luck: 11
Played by: Chan Online
Change author:
Posts: 1,543
MP:
#9
Looking around, Maea rubbed her neck and pondered the question. She was becoming none the wiser for all that she asked questions, and felt the nagging uncertainty like a weight around her ankles. Holding her back. Where would she like to begin? Was that something she ought to know? Maea had expected him to take command right away, assess her current abilities and throw her into some strict training regimen that left her limping and bruised, but ultimately stronger for it. Somewhere down the line. To actually have a say in what she wanted to learn was... unexpected, and it threw her, letting the faltering confidence shine through that mask she had made for herself. The cracks spiderwebbed all across it, like some ancient porcelain given a gentle tap.

"I... well, I want to learn... all of it, I suppose," she said eventually, glancing up at Deimos with an expression that suggested she expected him to laugh at her. "So, perhaps begin at the place where I can lay the best foundation? Both my endurance and strength is lacking, and coordination. As is... everything else."

A tone of frustration there, and her hands raised slightly from the sides, as if to urge him on. 'Come on, tell me what to do to change it.' But... perhaps it was she who had the wrong idea of what weapons training should be like. Maybe blood and bruises and crying yourself to sleep wasn't the way to go, after all?
MAEA
just a glimpse of truth
Permission granted for magic/violence, short of killing.
Unless otherwise stated, Maea is always wearing Ludo's Rags around her shoulders.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 1,618
MP:
#10
Deimos
Deimos hadn’t been given any options in his training as a youth: but they would’ve floundered without direction, would’ve tumbled and fooled around well before anything monumental or noteworthy occurred. It was regimented and disciplined, which was what he intended for her, but allowing an ability to command her own fate and ambitions as well; instead of balking, hesitating, or reeling from anything he extended. Maea would eventually have to think for herself anyway; no one there to guide her, to hold her hand, to tell her exactly what to do when reality sunk in, when the world began to implode, when inherent abilities and defenses were all she had. Learning all of it would take a lengthy period of time: none of this had come to any of them all at once, and shouldn’t. That wasn’t how bodies were built. That wasn’t how talents were honed.

But the Sword didn’t laugh, wouldn’t chuckle or scorn at someone who was willing to better themselves.

He nodded, indicating nothing at first, maneuvering out of the armory and back into the front parlor, grabbing hold of a writing implement and paper, before returning. Then he began to jot down a series of exercises, timeframes, and outlines, endurance manifestations on one side, strength on the other. When he’d finished, he handed it back to her, indicating instructions and details. “You will start on endurance and strength then. You will need to run every day, slowly, and not for long at first. Gradually build yourself up. You are welcome to use the perimeter of the training grounds.” Or the field might work too – lengthy, or any other landmark she thought credible. “For strength, we have several pull-up bars, but anything you can carry or lift should build you up.” To hold and wield a sword, a bow, a poleax. “It will take time, but will be worth the effort." He glanced towards her, waiting for some response. “When you feel you are ready, then you can choose a weapon.”
Out of sight and out of mind
Make everything alright
So let the sky and sea collide
Just not in our lifetime
Maea Valair
Loreseeker

Age: 22 | Height: 156 cm / 5'1 ft | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 5 - Strg: 13 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 21 - Luck: 11
Played by: Chan Online
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Posts: 1,543
MP:
#11
Accepting the paper, Maea looked it over. Learning her letters were coming along nicely, and she spelled her way through the exercises, eyes coming alight with rekindled determination. This would work. It would definitely help her improve. None of the things were difficult or time consuming; she'd be able to practice before getting on with her other duties at the Guild each morning, and at the end of each day. Even without someone standing over her, she could make her own strict regimen and ensure that her body was strengthened in good time.

Perhaps, by the time she had made her way through some of this, she would have decided which kind of weapon she might favor, too. She thought of the staff, glancing at the other implements of death and destruction... It was well worth considering.

And of course, she could keep training with the rapier, when Jigano had the time.

"Thank you," she said, looking up at Deimos with a smile - the eagerness to get started shone plainly about her. "This is excellent. Are there... other exercises one can do? To become less stiff, or move better..." Not entirely sure what she was asking for, her hands gestured a little helplessly.

----

(ooc: I'm thinking hand-to-hand forms here, but idk what kind of style Deimos knows.)
MAEA
just a glimpse of truth
Permission granted for magic/violence, short of killing.
Unless otherwise stated, Maea is always wearing Ludo's Rags around her shoulders.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 1,618
MP:
#12
Deimos
Quiet and studious, he watched as she took apart the information, a renewed semblance of confidence and eagerness compelled thereafter; so she appeared content with the information he’d given her. It was a starting point few had to begin with: most of his militia had come here with multitudes of experience, muscles, and conflagrations already instilled. It was more of an Outlander experience than any of the Naturals, and made sense, given their history. Given all the outsiders trials and tribulations. Given the way the world worked and shifted. But at least she was willing to strive for it – which was already better than most.

He tilted his head at her notion of exercises, and pondered over some techniques he could ensure she notched within too – another commencement that would serve her for the better when she strived to materialize into combat. Taking another piece of paper, he began to sketch out particular poses, stretches, and the art of shifting, maneuvering feet, grounded for assault, for power, and for precision. “You can practice these stretches and forms too,” handing it over to her, hoping the pictures detailed enough explanation, enough description, to embody them properly.
Out of sight and out of mind
Make everything alright
So let the sky and sea collide
Just not in our lifetime
Maea Valair
Loreseeker

Age: 22 | Height: 156 cm / 5'1 ft | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 5 - Strg: 13 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 21 - Luck: 11
Played by: Chan Online
Change author:
Posts: 1,543
MP:
#13
The poses were quite well drawn, in her opinion. Perhaps not overtly artistic but clear and to the point, making it easy enough to understand what she was supposed to accomplish. This sheet too was studied in detail; Maea scanned it for things she did not understand now that she had his attention and time to ask further instruction. But to his credit, she found none that were too complex, and looked up again with a wide smile.

"I really appreciate all this," she told him. "I thought for sure I'd be sent off for being too scrawny. It's what they said when I came to the hunters wanting to learn their craft..." It had come as no surprise but stung all the same. One of the elders had taken pity on her and deigned to show her some traps and the basics of trapping small game, but... it had not been the contribution to the family she'd hoped for.

"How come you're so accepting of this?"
MAEA
just a glimpse of truth
Permission granted for magic/violence, short of killing.
Unless otherwise stated, Maea is always wearing Ludo's Rags around her shoulders.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,618
MP:
#14
Deimos
He’d been the same in Helovia – even on his hushed, intimidating stature, even in the rush and ramble of mayhem, of cold, defiant insouciance, he’d always attempted to help others find their way. It was useful for kingdoms to have those with prior talents and merits placed within a threshold encompassing and enhancing their strengths: individuals like Hotaru or Rexanna, born to unleash their specious smiles and deceive the world into offering every ounce of its sagacity. Over and over again, newcomers and foreigners at his door had been met with an assessing eye, with inquiry after inquiry, with available slots and standings to place themselves in. He didn’t have the ability here – and there were a vaster, clearer array of options – but he’d extend similar attributes, conditions, and pursuits. Bestowing and permitting those around the Hollowed Grounds to train, to grow stronger, to burn brighter, could only help the community: whether it be through offense, defense, tactical precision, or simply strength; valuable amongst any circumstance.

He nodded at her appreciation, accepting it with the same nonchalant expression, never quite knowing what to do with the reflections and consideration. But Maea’s question baffled him for a moment: uncertain why others wouldn’t support ambitions and aspirations for more dominion, for more prowess. Jealousy? Envy? The lack of foresight or willpower to do it themselves? Deimos’ features showed no signs of the puzzlement though, save for the slightest upward incline of his brow, before returning to stoic enterprises, a rumbling ricochet in his chest. “Anyone seeking to better themselves should be encouraged.” Except those like Zariah - though he wasn't sure if she was ever seeking to combine her forces for the community, or the results of her own tyranny and domination.
Out of sight and out of mind
Make everything alright
So let the sky and sea collide
Just not in our lifetime


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