Silver Eyes Abound

[mirage_avenger]

Who: All the Claymores up until Miria arrives (Sorry Dietrich!)
When: October 6th, evening [So obviously backdated]
Where: The Patrol headquarters
Format: Paragraph
What: Miria goes to Patrol Headquarters to gather information on this new world. And meets up with the rest of the Claymore warriors.
Warnings: None

Comments

OHOHO

[visionblessing]

Galatea was taking some time to acclimatise to this new city. She'd had seven years to memorise each stone in Rabona's streets, all the church's hallways. She could still read the ribbons of yoki laid around the city and the paths followed, trace and track-- but that didn't free her completely of the occasional instance of running into things. (People rather less so; apparently tall, willowly women with white eyes still had the potential to be unnerving and thus avoided.)

She head tilted to the side as she recognised Miria's presence, and then followed until she walked through the door.

"Am I early?" Her smile would perhaps be better described as a smirk, if such were appropriate for one dressed in the Rabona cloth.
Galatea had, sadly, never been one with much regard for propriety. "How dreadful."

Miria sees what you did there

[mirage_avenger]

Miria had felt Galatea behind her and had made no move to acknowledge her until she spoke. That doesn't mean she didn't watched her movements, though. Now she turned fully to face her. Still in the cloth of Rabona but certainly not the demeanor of one of the cloth.

"I do not recall setting a time so no, you aren't. You seem well."

As she waited for the reply she stepped through the doorway.

Galatea hopes that 'sees' comment wasn't intended to be insensitive

[visionblessing]

"Good." That was certainly a weight off her mind. Galatea brushed her hair out of her face, and carefully considered Miria's observation, as if she had commented on some branch of philosophy rather than her own well being, though that was more the outcome of her feeling particularly leisurely than any serious self-assessment. Finally, she nodded. "Then the projection would appear to be accurate."

Another flicker of a smile. She was reaching out to assess what yoki patterns drew closer, like the warm glow of flames licking over dry wood, but she enjoyed small talk. It was something she'd become especially accustomed to, in Rabona. "You don't appear to at death's door, yourself."

Which, she reflected, was perhaps more than could be said of Miria at the moment from which she herself had stepped through the door. That Miria seemed set on following a potentially suicidal path.

[ooc; HAHA YES I totally replied to this promptly. 8|]

Insensitive, never. Doesn't mean it wasn't on purpose ;D

[mirage_avenger]

"No, I'm as well as can be expected of one being moved into another world without warning."

From anyone else, the - for lack of a better word - casual conversation would have irked Miria. But Galatea had been this way before and her time in Rabona increased it. And though she wouldn't admit it, it was a little comforting. Being thrown headlong into a completely different world had unnerved Miria more than she cared to think about. These little foibles were an odd reassurance, that not everything had changed.

"Tell me, what do you intend to do with yourself in this place? Will you keep your position of a member of the prevalent religion?"

[twoswordjuniper]

Miria didn't have to wait long.

Deneve had felt her coming - months living in the thickness of yoki in this city had taught her to pay more attention to all of its fluctuations and she could feel the shift as Miria drew near the patrol headquarters.

She got out of bed -she was still irritatingly tired- and pulled her cloak around her, hiding the sores that were the diminishing signs of the disease she still carried underneath the shield of thick black fabric.

So she was waiting in the entrance hall, seated on one of the benches nearest the inner door, with her back pressed to the wall and her head tilted down, when Miria came through the door. She was silent at first, eyes closed as she sat in profile to the only person she would acknowledge as a leader.

As Miria moved further into the room, she raised her head and looked at the former number six.

"Miria. It's good to see you."

[mirage_avenger]

"Deneve. It is good to see you too." She allowed herself one of those rare smiles. It's good to see her comrade well, even if she is cloaked and -recovering? - from the Geostigma that had affected her.

"You're fighting off the disease?" Direct as always. Deneve's yoki felt more like Deneve but there was still some miasma. It wasn't gone competely.

"May I see it?" Miria had no doubt Deneve would know exactly to what she was referring.

[twoswordjuniper]

Damn Helen. Deneve really hadn't wanted Miria to know about the sickness. But, she supposed, with the way Miria was about collecting information, she would have found it out somehow even though a very, very few people actually knew about it.

Deneve stood and approached the other Claymore. "I seem to finally be getting the better of it."

She pulled back the cloak just enough for only Miria to see her left arm, which was still a bit dark with the blotchy sores that were the hallmark of the disease. It didn't look pleasant, but it was finally fading away.

[mirage_avenger]

Miria stepped closer to examine the sores. They were ugly and dark. She decided against touching it, to both not harm Deneve and to keep the disease from spreading.

"I'm glad."

She took her original spot, satisfied in seeing first hand this thing that could even touch warriors. Especially that it touched Deneve, the best healer among them.

"Did you discover anything further on this affliction?"

[applelimber]

Helen couldn't let Deneve have all the fun of greeting their old comrade, now could she? But at least she didn't do it with her sword. Miria was someone...well, someone that the former twenty-two respected.

She wasn't far behind Deneve -- possibly another irritation. Helen was hard to shake from her partner under the best of circumstances. Geostigma just made her follow that much closer. She carried the leg of a roasted something in her hand. Maybe something she hunted. Maybe something that made the mistake of hunting her. Either way, Helen took a bite from it before finally laying eyes on Miria.

"Yo, Sis!" She waved her snack at her. "Did you bring a playmate?" She grinned, her silver eyes sliding to Galatea.

[mirage_avenger]

Miria's smile that she'd given Deneve was extend, for a beat, for Helen then it promptly left at the mention of the "playmate". Irrevrent as always. Though it would more jarring if she weren't. Things must be good for then.

"Hello Helen. I'm glad to see you." She glanced back at Galatea. "She found her own way here."

And that's even on that subject.

"So, tell me about your life here. You've been here longer than any of us, what have you found?"

[applelimber]

"What I've found is that this place can be a real pain in the ass."

But that's not what Miria was asking for, and Helen knew it. And she doesn't really want to be disrespectful, either. She's wished to see Miria again more than anyone could possibly know, with the possible exception of Deneve.

She sighed and leaned back against the wall.

"We're at the mercy of damn near everything. The mist, the door, the twins. People have tried to push past the mist, but it's suicide. And as for the Twins..."

Helen scowls.

"They say that the Twins rule here, but no one ever sees them. They remind me too much of the Organization."

Or maybe Helen just equates everything that she doesn't like to them now.

[mirage_avenger]

Miria simply waited for the real answer, expressionless. Helen always had to have her say before any answer.

The answer isn't pleasing in the least. At the mercy of the world itself, that was one thing. That was life as she knew it. The addition of the mysterious "Twins" was the most bothersome.

"How like the Organization?" Her voice and body tensed a fraction. The one blessing of this place had been the utter lack of the Organization. This new knowledge left a bad taste in her mouth.

[halcyonthird]

Boots plain and to the knee, hastily chosen for comfort and fit - Irene entered the room without expression nor words, coming to stand nearest Miria.

The ill-fitting dress she'd worn reached just lower than mid-calf, its sleeves (one too short, the other ...unoccupied by flesh altogether) obscured by the cloak that had finally managed to be rid of its bloodstains.

She found the energy in the room (mostly) unfamiliar to her, as were the faces that accompanied it.

Late - but not forgotten!

[mirage_avenger]

"Hello, Irene." As she spoke, Miria turned to give Irene a salutary nod. Though the yoki was unfamiliar, it was easily deduced to whom it belonged. A welcomed yoki, certainly.

"It's nice to meet you. I heard a great deal about you from Clare."

/ LAAAAATE

[halcyonthird]

Clare.

"Was the Clare that came to this place, the one that disappeared not long before I arrived - was this the same Clare of your time?"

It was difficult to keep in mind that the timelines seemed just as likely to interconnect as they were not to. The randomness of it all was disquieting. But not so much as other things.

"It is good to meet you as well. You are ...Miria." It's almost a question. "Priscilla has told me a little of what has transpired in this place since she arrived. I'm curious, though. As to what you heard from Clare."

Mostly, she keeps the disappointment from her voice. In the last few days, she sees less reason to. It is all up-ended. Some greatly for the better, yes. But she dislikes change in general.

Better start cozying up to it, now. No choice, really.

/NOT TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[mirage_avenger]

"I do not know. I'm still learning about this world and haven't asked too much about warriors that have passed through. But I do believe she was relatively close to my time, yes." It is the best and truest answer she can give.

Miria nods, confirming her identity when Irene asks it. It is still strange to hear Priscilla spoken of as a fellow warrior, instead of a plague. Particularly from Irene, who had been present at the time Priscilla awakened.

Ah, it seems she misunderstood Irene's original question.

"The Clare in my time knows nothing of this place. So it is not possible for her to pass any information about Anatole on to me. I'm sorry I cannot be more help."

She contemplates the tone of Irene's voice but doesn't pursue her thinking. There are other things to discuss.

"What do you think of this new Priscilla?"