Beauregard Lionett (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
notallbluemonks) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomtownies2018-10-30 07:20 am
notallbluemonks) wrote in fandomtownies2018-10-30 07:20 am
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Apocalypse Avenue, Near the Park, Tuesday Morning
Right, so. Ten minutes ago Beau had been contending with a hangover in some tiny podunk town, a few days’ travel south of Trostenwald on the Amber Road, when she'd caught a glimpse of two figures robed in the all-too-familiar blues and greys of the Cobalt Soul. And the hell with that, she wasn’t going back to the monastery, not now, so she'd ducked into a side alley, reasonably sure she’d managed it without them noticing.
She'd been crouched behind a stack of crates with the smell of pretty shitty but pretty strong beer (meant for the tavern around the corner, probably) wafting off of them, trying to listen for any signs that the monks on her trail were sniffing around too close for comfort. Also, thinking about how she'd drink this beer anyway because she figured she'd get too drunk to care about the taste before long.
Just listening. And waiting. And getting a hell of a cramp in her left leg from being squashed into a tiny dark corner and trying not to move at all.
Then suddenly, the noises from the tavern and the passing horse-drawn cart were just gone, and the slightly mildewy scent of the alley was swept away by a light . . . breeze? A breeze with an odd, completely unfamiliar salty tang to it?
Wait, what?
The crates she was crouched behind no longer smelled like beer either, and when she stepped out of the alley it was into what looked like a row of the weirdest fucking warehouses she'd ever seen.
“The fuck?”
This didn't look like any place she'd ever seen in the Dwendalian Empire. The architectural style was . . . varying degrees of wildly off, for one, and then there was the ocean? Which she had never seen before in her life? Yeah. Definitely not the landlocked Empire. Beau rubbed at the back of her head, used her staff to lever herself to her feet, and set off down the completely unfamiliar street just to try and figure out where the hell she was. And how she'd gotten here without even moving from her spot.
Figured. Run away from the Cobalt Soul, still get stuck asking the deep-ass questions, even if they were way more literal in this context. On the upside, it was probably going to be a hell of a lot harder for the monks to track her down now.
By the time Beau was approaching the park, though, she hadn’t gotten closer to any answers or gained any clarification whatsoever, so . . .
“The fuck?”
This was going to be a theme for a while.
[[Post is absolutely open! Usual SP disclaimer applies. Please forgive my lack of icons; it's a thing.]]
She'd been crouched behind a stack of crates with the smell of pretty shitty but pretty strong beer (meant for the tavern around the corner, probably) wafting off of them, trying to listen for any signs that the monks on her trail were sniffing around too close for comfort. Also, thinking about how she'd drink this beer anyway because she figured she'd get too drunk to care about the taste before long.
Just listening. And waiting. And getting a hell of a cramp in her left leg from being squashed into a tiny dark corner and trying not to move at all.
Then suddenly, the noises from the tavern and the passing horse-drawn cart were just gone, and the slightly mildewy scent of the alley was swept away by a light . . . breeze? A breeze with an odd, completely unfamiliar salty tang to it?
Wait, what?
The crates she was crouched behind no longer smelled like beer either, and when she stepped out of the alley it was into what looked like a row of the weirdest fucking warehouses she'd ever seen.
“The fuck?”
This didn't look like any place she'd ever seen in the Dwendalian Empire. The architectural style was . . . varying degrees of wildly off, for one, and then there was the ocean? Which she had never seen before in her life? Yeah. Definitely not the landlocked Empire. Beau rubbed at the back of her head, used her staff to lever herself to her feet, and set off down the completely unfamiliar street just to try and figure out where the hell she was. And how she'd gotten here without even moving from her spot.
Figured. Run away from the Cobalt Soul, still get stuck asking the deep-ass questions, even if they were way more literal in this context. On the upside, it was probably going to be a hell of a lot harder for the monks to track her down now.
By the time Beau was approaching the park, though, she hadn’t gotten closer to any answers or gained any clarification whatsoever, so . . .
“The fuck?”
This was going to be a theme for a while.
[[Post is absolutely open! Usual SP disclaimer applies. Please forgive my lack of icons; it's a thing.]]