You keep on knocking better ask yourself why[closed, complete]
WHO: Bluest bluestheart
WHAT: Just a little mischief-making officer, nothing to see here...
WHERE: Blombrenn Laboratory, Industrial District
WHEN: Late tonight/early morning. Definitely before sunrise.
She'd never particularly cared for that little Blombrenn bitch. None of that family, really, but she was the worst. Bluest knew "nobles," knew how things worked. Brownosing this self-proclaimed king was just a way for that woman to push her way into his inner circle. It had nothing to do with the protection of the city, had nothing to do with a genuine desire to help. She wasn't angry, really. Didn't have a deep grudge. Bluest was never particularly angry about any given thing. This wasn't even for some abstract idea of revenge. Just simple facts.
This served one purpose: a strategic move. Perhaps two, if you were paying attention, and that was Bluest's personal amusement.
The lab would blow up, and with it supplies would go. While this wasn't a weapons factory, it'd put a dent in the Blombrenn resources, and that was good enough. That idiot woman was talking about giving some holier-than-thou, big-talking, suspicious asshole a steady supply of weaponry. For all she knew, that "king" and his grunts would blow her arrogant brains out after they'd gotten what they wanted. Without a true army, Rivelata was as good as defenseless, and who knew if the Offworlders would care enough to assist the natives. They caused enough trouble on their own as is.
She had to be careful with the explosives. As soon as any moisture hit the gunpowder, it'd be fucked, and messing around with it would end with her being blown into a million or so pieces all over the city streets. Sneaking around was easy enough: after hours no one was much around but the masked men, and she'd avoided them well-enough any other night.
She'd normally do jobs of this nature herself, but this time she'd merely helped with acquiring the supplies. It really wasn't worth the trouble to get caught doing something like this. She didn't too much trust the masked men either, and covering her ass was always a top priority, besides. Figured they wouldn't see the humor in it. So a few, nameless, faceless individuals were found, people who disliked the nobles, the Blombrenn family on principle, and who were a lot more vocal and aggressive about it. They'd waited until everyone had cleared out and gone home too: property damage was one thing, murder was another. She hadn't done anything like that in a long time, anyway.
She found a place some ways away from the lab, sat with a bottle of some unknown liquor, and impassively watched as the building in the distance blew sky high.
She toasted it with her bottle. Good times.
WHAT: Just a little mischief-making officer, nothing to see here...
WHERE: Blombrenn Laboratory, Industrial District
WHEN: Late tonight/early morning. Definitely before sunrise.
She'd never particularly cared for that little Blombrenn bitch. None of that family, really, but she was the worst. Bluest knew "nobles," knew how things worked. Brownosing this self-proclaimed king was just a way for that woman to push her way into his inner circle. It had nothing to do with the protection of the city, had nothing to do with a genuine desire to help. She wasn't angry, really. Didn't have a deep grudge. Bluest was never particularly angry about any given thing. This wasn't even for some abstract idea of revenge. Just simple facts.
This served one purpose: a strategic move. Perhaps two, if you were paying attention, and that was Bluest's personal amusement.
The lab would blow up, and with it supplies would go. While this wasn't a weapons factory, it'd put a dent in the Blombrenn resources, and that was good enough. That idiot woman was talking about giving some holier-than-thou, big-talking, suspicious asshole a steady supply of weaponry. For all she knew, that "king" and his grunts would blow her arrogant brains out after they'd gotten what they wanted. Without a true army, Rivelata was as good as defenseless, and who knew if the Offworlders would care enough to assist the natives. They caused enough trouble on their own as is.
She had to be careful with the explosives. As soon as any moisture hit the gunpowder, it'd be fucked, and messing around with it would end with her being blown into a million or so pieces all over the city streets. Sneaking around was easy enough: after hours no one was much around but the masked men, and she'd avoided them well-enough any other night.
She'd normally do jobs of this nature herself, but this time she'd merely helped with acquiring the supplies. It really wasn't worth the trouble to get caught doing something like this. She didn't too much trust the masked men either, and covering her ass was always a top priority, besides. Figured they wouldn't see the humor in it. So a few, nameless, faceless individuals were found, people who disliked the nobles, the Blombrenn family on principle, and who were a lot more vocal and aggressive about it. They'd waited until everyone had cleared out and gone home too: property damage was one thing, murder was another. She hadn't done anything like that in a long time, anyway.
She found a place some ways away from the lab, sat with a bottle of some unknown liquor, and impassively watched as the building in the distance blew sky high.
She toasted it with her bottle. Good times.