redjacketthief | 11th Turn [Written/Action]

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11th Turn [Written/Action]

Luceti.

Two things:

1. Whoever it was that found my work shop, return the pieces that you stole before the end of the day. I’ll be in the Barracks. If you fail to comply, I will find you.

It won’t be pretty.

2. What do the rest of you think about the last Shift? Was it good or bad? How did the loss of memory affect you? Do you think it left any long-term impact for yourself, your friends, and the rest of your stay in this village?

-Also. Prism Black. You deserve to be commended for your heroism. Never forget that.

Filtered to Trafalgar Law: Unhackable

I have a problem and I’d like a second opinion on it. It’s not big, but it could become complicated.

-I’d promise coffee, but I have an unrelated problem with getting it. I’ll be in the barracks.

[True to his word, Lupin will be in the barracks all day. His encounter with Spock on Monday, combined with his activities from earlier in the week had finally caught up to him. Fatigue was inevitable. He had spent the better part of the last few days asleep, never very far from his new charge. The veritable plague of crows that had been set upon him by an angered god was an unnecessary incentive. He kept the windows shut, locked away the gnawing need for a cigarette that bit at the back of his mind, and tried to ignore the judgement he saw reflected in the eyes of his avian watchmen—but he would have stayed close to the barracks regardless of their looming (and aggravating) presence.

While the days spent between dreams and fleeting considerations over recent affairs had rejuvenated him, it didn't stop the inherent restlessness that was his constant foe—the core problem that would never entirely leave. The people who knew him would be able to identify the briskness of his step and the cool control with which he held every action and every word. He was distracted by a new project , one that was completely foreign to him, and was unwilling to divulge details until the proper time came.

The thief had returned to work, but nothing was as it seemed.]

((ooc: Thread with Spock is chronologically last.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Syre spent a little time walking about the plain room; staring at the mirrors, walking around to get a feel for the space.]

[Then... interestingly, she removed her socks and shoes, setting them in the corner of the room, as though getting a feel for the floor.]

Hm. ...I'm not really used to something so... simple.

[Lupin shrugged and followed her lead, toeing off his shoes in a corner and balancing himself against a wall to pull off his socks. It was normal enough for him, but it had been several months since he engaged in solo training.

He was going to need to explain things to Syre, so she properly understood.]

[Syre turns to Lupin after a few more moments of pacing about the room.]

So. Now what?

[Lupin scrawled out a note and tossed it to her.]

stretch. practice your forms.

[He would join...but that would require an explanation.]

...forms...?

[She's a little confused at first, but the realization slowly dawns.]

[She draws her sword, looking at it like a fond companion before settling into a fencing stance; she feels the weight of her sword in her hand, getting used to it again before beginning a series of advances and retreats.]

[Lupin smiled when she set to work, displaying her skills with practiced ease as if there were no one else around.

Another note, and he waved his notepad.]

that's impressive. have you practiced for long?

[She lunges forward, thrusting her rapier forward as she glanced over to the notepad.]

[Her lips curl into a faint smile, and she laughs dryly.]

...for roughly 20 years. [She leaps back, parrying an imagined strike before lunging forward again.] About as long as I've been an alchemist.

[His eyebrows raised at the explanation, now doubly curious about the woman that the Shift had made him have an accident with. 20 years was the same length as his own career, although his skills were far less savory.

Two decades spent training with a sword...and alchemy. Care to explain?]

[Syre recognizes that look, and laughs again.]

Curious, I imagine.

[She sheathes her rapier, taking a moment to simply practice her footwork as she begins.]

I was sent to my nation's most acclaimed academy for alchemy and the arts of battle at the age of 13.

At the age of 17, I returned home to find my village overrun by raiders. Shortly after that, the Ecliptian-Lunian War began, and I found myself thrust into battle on a near constant basis.

I began as a lowly field medic. But, through the luck of the Gods and my own skill, I outlived my superiors and most of my peers.

A few years ago [-- she pirouettes backward at that moment, landing on the ball of her left foot --] I had command of the very brigade in which I had enlisted.

...for the record... [She laughs, drawing her sword with a flourish.] I'm 35 now.

[The explanation was too fast and hinted at too many details for Lupin to properly process, but he understood the basics. She was from a war torn region and entered combat training at an early age. Not even tragedy could stop her, and she worked her way up through the ranks on the battlefield.

Lupin scratched out a note with the first thought that came to mine.]

I'm 36.

[It wasn't that he didn't care; the problem was inherently communication. He wanted to know more, but he didn't want to pressure her anymore than he had to.]

I wager you would like more in depth information. Especially being unable to hold a proper conversation.

[She sets her rapier up against the wall and, very abruptly, sits down.]

So. Ask away.

[Lupin nodded appreciatively at her abrupt change in demeanor and passed over another note. The unique chance of learning about other cultures and other worlds in Luceti was one of the few things that he didn't hate about this world.

It was an opportunity that he would never have anywhere else.]

What do you mean about your war? Why do people enter military service at such a young age? What do you do with alchemy?

[Syre looks over the note, then glances up at Lupin with a smile.]

Ah, I should have been a little more specific. My apologies.

Enrollment in the Academy does not automatically mean enlisting into the war. Most graduates move on to more civilian jobs and use their knowledge to supplement their careers.

I just so happened to be lucky, in that my home village was attacked by our neighboring nation, Lunia, in the first strike of the war.

[There is a brief flicker of anger in her face, though it quickly passes.]

I know not what caused it; the apologists are claiming that the raiding party was not sent by the Lunian military itself, but an independent faction. Either way, the war still rages today.

Now... the hardest question of all. What can one do with alchemy?

[She looks almost thoughtful, staring up at the ceiling while she composes her thoughts.]

The shortest answer is: "Whatever you set your mind to." The longer version is a far more convoluted affair.

[She looks at Lupin once more, her smile returning.] Would you like a more thorough explanation?

[The explanation provided only inspired more questions, these on the cultural and socioeconomic status of her society. He was a curious man by nature, as the Shift proved, but his need for information was more complicated than what he could quickly write down. It disrupted the flow of conversation and shot a bullet through the mood.

Instead he noted the potential storm of questions and contained it, nodding instead at her offer. He did want to know what her society deemed 'alchemy'. It was a scientific curiosity.]

Let's start with the basics, then.

A person's energy -- life force, soul, whatever term you deem fit -- is used to perform any and all works of alchemy. The results are, in normal circumstances, proportional to the amount of energy one puts into their work.

There are a few alchemy types that inherently consume more energy than others, though these are saved for more extreme circumstances.

[A pause.] Still with me?

[A nod. The concept reminded him a little of chi that was mentioned in several of the religions from his home, but was an inverse of the Force--what he understood. The draw on internal energies...]

Good.

Now, here is where most people get... a little lost.

In alchemy, there is a focus. This focus is made up of an array, which guides the energy, and the runes within it, which 'tell' the energy what its functions are.

The most common array shape is a circle, in which several other shapes are inscribed. However, arrays different from individual to individual in terms of their complexity; my own arrays are mostly circular, with a pair of unique ones for more pressing circumstances.

[She pauses again, allowing Lupin some time to take this all in.]

[Lupin thought about her words for a moment before he found an analogy. Though he wasn't skilled in any form of magic, as his attempts at contacting the local spirits had taught him, there was one spell that was simple enough for even him. He fished a stub of white chalk from his pocket and recalled the trick he learned from Harry Dresden.

He drew a simple circle out on the floor between them, his thoughts focused on the intention to protect rather than on the mechanics himself. The final step, a small sacrifice that only the individual could make, was stayed momentarily. Lupin returned his gaze up to Syre and tapped just outside of the circle for emphasis.

Was it something like this?]

Yes, that is similar.

...I don't know what else about it I could explain. Was there something you wanted to me to explain further?

Would you show me?

...oh? Sure, I can do that.

[She rummages through her pockets, pulling out a tiny stub of chalk.]

...what's the first inorganic thing that comes to mind?

[Besides chalk? He let his mind drift...]

A lead slug.

[Like an old fashioned musketball--he had guns on the brain lately, as the Shift had subtly recalled Jigen's influence more than once.]

[The brunette presses the chalk on the wooden floor, and a rather complicated 'circle' is drawn out, shape by shape.]

[When it is completed, Syre presses a finger to the very edge of it, and a brief flash lights up the lines of white. Slowly, something metallic rises from the floor.]

[...Lupin may find that, instead of the ammunition he was thinking of, Syre has formed an actual slug out of lead. There are no guns in her world. How could she know?]

[He watched her move with the rapt attention of a student, processing the information for later experimentation. Though he was starting to accept the magical aspects of Luceti, the urge to try to replicate the tools and constructs would never fully leave. He would ask about the science of her trade when he had a voice again, out of sheer academic interest. Such phenomena were completely unknown in his world.

The actual conjuring looked simple enough, but the effect...

He didn't know whether to laugh or not.

Lupin withdrew his Walther P-38 from its concealed holster under his jacket and ejected the magazine. He unloaded it and rolled the eight remaining .9mm rounds out for her. Another tap, and a smile. These were what he was talking about.

Maybe they could both learn from each other.]</small.

[Oh, so this is what he meant. Right, fixing her mistake now.]

[The lead slug statuette glows brilliantly for a moment, then is very suddenly (and very noisily) changed into a small pile of ammunition.]

[Then, after studying one of the rounds, she speaks up.]

...so, this is a miniature projectile?

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