Little Birds [OPEN]
Characters: Souji Seta and [OPEN]
Content: After the shock of the bombing, Souji let's his work of the last week free
Setting: Fiertia maindeck, while a random sailor flies the ship
Time: The morning after
Warnings: A little emo, a little hope
Notes: The cranes will be tossed out into the air, so feel free to have other non-Fierta folks find one. Inside are various fortunes and the like, with a few odd or very specific ones. Some might even fit scarily well with their reciever.
He had planned to do this yesterday. But he had learned this last year that plans mean little in the face of fate. If things had gone as planned he would have been in the Academy now, learning the ways of a Navy man, on his way to being an officer (he never had doubts that he would be, even if he really had no desire to be). Not a mercenary on the trail of a killer, with a strange power to call monsters from the center of his mind.
It was nice, sometimes, not having a plan. Not today. His plan would go off, just a little later then normal.
The helmsman stood on the edge of the deck, his bowlcut hair whipping around wildly, a box in his arms. And with an almost wistful look on his face, he reached inside, drawing out a single blue origami crane. The wind took it before he even got he chance to throw it.
He knew there was a metaphor there, somewhere.
Content: After the shock of the bombing, Souji let's his work of the last week free
Setting: Fiertia maindeck, while a random sailor flies the ship
Time: The morning after
Warnings: A little emo, a little hope
Notes: The cranes will be tossed out into the air, so feel free to have other non-Fierta folks find one. Inside are various fortunes and the like, with a few odd or very specific ones. Some might even fit scarily well with their reciever.
He had planned to do this yesterday. But he had learned this last year that plans mean little in the face of fate. If things had gone as planned he would have been in the Academy now, learning the ways of a Navy man, on his way to being an officer (he never had doubts that he would be, even if he really had no desire to be). Not a mercenary on the trail of a killer, with a strange power to call monsters from the center of his mind.
It was nice, sometimes, not having a plan. Not today. His plan would go off, just a little later then normal.
The helmsman stood on the edge of the deck, his bowlcut hair whipping around wildly, a box in his arms. And with an almost wistful look on his face, he reached inside, drawing out a single blue origami crane. The wind took it before he even got he chance to throw it.
He knew there was a metaphor there, somewhere.