nysalogs | event open

Who: aranea highwind and you!
What: misc plots re: event
When: during the clusterfuck
Where: various
Warning(s): half-naked aranea

1. good things come to those who wait

[ After helping some people out during the clusterfuck explosion earlier today, Aranea returns back to her newly acquired warehouse where she's been housing some displaced workers from the Market District. She's tired, she's sore, and she's in the process of getting cleaned up before she goes back out.

Which is a horrible idea, really.

She did luck out and get some details. Occurring to some people: The Empress is nowhere to be found and isn't releasing statements. Huh! Aranea isn't involved in politics, so she lets it go in one ear and out the other.

She's been back and forth — you may have seen her favoring her side a bit more the longer the day went on, but she's back in her makeshift "office". It's mostly her shit thrown about but the main focus here is Aranea who is without her shirt. She's leaning against her desk, inspecting the patch of bandages at her hip. Her shirt carelessly tossed on the pile of paperwork she had to sign to lease the place.

Maybe she helped you? Maybe you spotted her and wanted to see if she was okay? Whatever the case may be, here she is. ]

2. on the run

[ It was late. She needed to get a hold of Prompto. The more time passed, the more people started to collectively freak out. Someone needs to address this — to speak out. If anyone could get in contact with The Empress, she figures it's a city guard.

She ventures out to the south wall of the city. There's probably a few people she can wrangle to track the guy down — but it's here where she stops around a corner and sees a small group of people all carrying weapons.

THE FUGITIVES! I swear I saw one leave the tavern! They can't be too far off! Check the shops —

Aranea groans, seeing the mass of people move past her towards the rows of shops. Maybe it's a glint of movement in a shadow that catches her attention, but if you're in the south side of the city, you may be in danger.

She's going to inspect the shadows, seeing if it's a wanted fiend or someone at the wrong place at the wrong time. With a sudden summon of her spear, she aims nicely and thwip! The weapon impales into the side of the building, blocking off anyone who tried to escape. ]

Hey! Shouldn't you be in bed? Long day, what, with bombs going off and all.

[ She says to literally anyone, regardless of if it's a fugitive. It's late and she's tired. :( ]

3. wildcard
[ hmu and i'll work with whatever! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She's . . . only a little sorry that her shirt is going back on. I mean, obviously she's glad for it, clearly she is, because there's showing a bit of skin and then there's this, and no, this world doesn't conform to 1909 standards and she's glad for it, but good god. And Rosalind has things she wants to discuss with Aranea, so it's for the best her shirt goes back on.

But . . .

Well, anyway. There's no point in focusing on but. Her cheeks are still red, but Rosalind turns back towards Aranea the moment she hears her putting her shirt back on. Her eyes flick down once, the movement voluntary-- and then focus downwards once more, a little frown gracing her face. Those stitches aren't on display, she'd only gotten a flash of a glance, but they look fresh.]

Dare I ask which one might involve you in half your clothes?

Tending to wounds — trust me, if it was that kind of business my pants would be at my ankles.

[ Aranea is glad she's not a prude and storming off. She seems to at least have enough sense that once her shirt slides back on, there's nothing to fear. Aranea's here to be the business chick Rosalind needs her to be. She won't linger on her own wounds — stitches aren't going anywhere unless she rips 'em out. The guy did a good job, after all.]

You came here for a reason, miss?

I did, yes.

[She takes a step forward, drawing near the desk. She's not going to get that sight out of her mind for ages, but that's her own problem to worry about.]

You seem the sort to keep your ear close to the ground. I was hoping you might have heard something interesting about this disease.

[A beat, and then:]

--and would care to pass it along to others.

Heard nothing. That's the problem. Got some pals in city guard and they're having a problem getting a testimonial from the Empress. Darnedest thing — can't seem to find her at all.

That's-- well. I suppose it depends on your outlook of things.

[She tips her head.]

Either she's very good at evacuating, which wouldn't be impossible, but it's odd she hasn't told her guard that, or . . . well. It would be a very stupid sign of guilt to run, and from what I've heard, she's many things, but she isn't stupid.

How do you evacuate from a city this big when your people are undoubtedly suffering? Sounds shady.

[ Especially the short notice... ]

Could be waiting for the details — for official statements that don't piss someone off.

Certainly not a good PR move, and yet she did it anyway. But details . . .

[Rosalind frowns. Then, abruptly:]

Tell me: what would you do if you were her and this situation erupted?

Me? I'd be down here. If you're going to get your ass kissed by a kingdom of people, the last thing you could do is show your face.

As would I. I'd be certain to show my face, make a show of-- oh, I don't know. Visiting hospitals, villainizing those who did it. Fleeing simply makes her look odd at best and guilty at worst.

So. What does that leave us with?

[Rosalind leans her hips against the desk, frowning faintly at Aranea.]

One: that she is guilty, that this was on done on her orders and she's making sure she isn't caught. But that would be stupid: a woman who has so much power fleeing because her plan went off without a hitch?

Two: that she isn't guilty, but that she was somehow forced from her throne anyway. A kidnapping? Another matter of state that called her away? Either way, it seems odd that there was no explanation: the former, you'd think kidnappers would leave a credible reason to stop people from wondering, and the latter, they could have at least offered some vague explanation on protecting her.

But she's simply . . . gone.

[ The woman knows how to paint a picture. She leans back against her desk, thinking to herself. The possibilities are there — for now, they know nothing of the source. The reason behind everything.

As much as she wants to call political shenanigans, it may not be it. They're all fairly blended, why make a fuss to gain suspicion? ]

I don't know if you know military protocol, Red, but —

[ She opens her eyes and finally starts tapping her fingers to her chin. ]

Once they have even the hint of a confirmed threat, guards try and ensure a political party — King, Queen, Empress, whatever — are out of harms way. Real smoke and mirrors shit. Could be that the attack wasn't so spontaneous. That they knew something was up.

[Red, and it takes her a moment to realize that the other woman means her. There's no chance to interrupt to correct her, and their discussion is more important than a silly nickname, but honestly.]

I believe so. But I can't understand the point of fleeing-- surely she knows that only ends up making her look guilty? And further, what's the point? Making her citizens sick . . . there's been no fatalities, no swell of public support for her, nothing like that. I suppose we're all a bit more united against those supposed perpetrators, but not enough.

There's a dozen ways to pan this out. Innocent protection of the empress, involvement herself, tinfoil conspiracy theories — the list goes on. The sad fact is in a kingdom, the royalty will always be the highest protected during times of emergency.

[ But, she shifts gears a little: ]

I guess wondering about her is a bit pointless. No one can give us answers, not even city guard. Just hope the Institute is working on a cure for this shit.

Well, I can give you good news there. I can't imagine it'll be much time before we come up with something-- especially in a place like here.

event open

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject