solitude { victor }

[VICTOR BRENTON]

[atrb=cellSpacing,20,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background: url(http://i1121.photobucket.com/albums/l517/obsidianabyss/burntpaper.jpg); border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #f1ca97, bTable][style=font-family: courier new; text-align: right; color: #800000; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: -10px; padding: 5px 30px 1px 5px;]Do or die, you'll never make me[/style][style=font-family: harrington; text-align: right; color: #00000; letting-spacing: 1px; line-height: 5px; padding: 0px 15px 5px 0px;]Though you try, you'll never break me.[/style][style=float: right; width: 270; padding: 10px; height: 310px; overflow: auto; background-color: #E3D5BF; opacity: 0.4; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #808000; font: 10px verdana; color: #000000; text-align: justify;] She gazed at him, those dark eyes made still darker by the battle they had just endured. There was something searching in her expression as she scrutinized his eyes, a desperate question that he had no answer to. He wished that he did. After a moment, she tore her gaze away, looking frustrated, and remained as silent as ever. He surveyed her for injuries and found none besides the fang still embedded deeply into the flesh of her forearm, bright against the dark fabric of her sleeve and the blood that had soaked into it. A tiny, sympathetic grimace flickered across his lips- no more than half a second and then it was gone. Amaya wasn't one to want pity. Of that, he was certain. His next words were chosen carefully, one brow arched as he articulated his concern as plainly as he could, a dry little smile on his lips. "That... should probably be looked at." He shifted, momentarially forgetting what had been done to his shoulder, and was rewarded with a flash of white-hot pain for the careless act. Somehow, he managed to keep it from registering on his face, but it did surface, faintly, in the dark-red pools of his eyes. Holstering his weapons, he raised a hand- his good one- and clutched his forearm closely to his side to keep it from moving further. One of the fragile bones could have been fractured, even broken-- that resounding, jarring crunch as the thing's hoof had rammed into his shoulder still rang in his ears. All he could do was hope that it wasn't the case. [/style][style=float: left;] [/style]

[atrb=style, height: 80px; overflow: auto; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #000000; font-family: verdana; color: #800000; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]TAG,~ ~ ~ LYRIC,~ ~ ~ NOTES,~ ~ ~ CREDIT,made by LUCI of OTE. steal & die. ; Edited by Maeka of Defrauding Fate.

[AMAYA SAGA]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 300px; background-image: url(http://i39.tinypic.com/357khus.jpg;); border: 0px solid #000000, bTable][tr][cs=2] but if you wait for someone else's hand then surely you will fall down

[rs=2]

His words were so normal, so utterly, infuriatingly normal, that the wry part of her nearly wanted to laugh out loud. Perhaps that was still the shock talking, though - she'd never been very good at controlling her emotions, it was why she'd always been quiet. She noticed the way his eyes changed when he moved, and her gaze returned to his shoulder. Something like sorrow passed through her expression, just for a moment, before she managed to wipe her face clean again. The way he held it, gingerly, as if it was made of glass, only proved her early suspicion that it might be broken. "You, too." She replied, a bit of mirth in her tone, though it barely registered anywhere else. He did have her respect now, she was sure of it; why she couldn't be sure. Because he was a superior? Because he was her superior and they thought along the same lines at times? Because he was her superior, they thought along the same lines, and he legitimately seemed to want to get to know her? All of the reasons that she thought of were just a few of infinite, she knew that - but either way, it seemed that he had, for now, done the impossible. A man, gaining her trust! Amaya could hardly believe it. Sure, it wasn't quite the level of trust most thought of when they heard the word, but it was enough for her to know she'd fight for him if he asked her to, enough that she felt - more or less - comfortable putting her life in his hands. It was progress. And that scared her. But she didn't mention it. Seeing as he hadn't been willing to speak up about the attack, she decided she would. He didn't have all the answers, but he might have ideas. Ideas she could work with. "What just happened here..."

[/color]She began, slightly reluctantly, as if she'd rather not discuss it. "I don't understand it." Her gaze, which had dropped to the fallen bodies, returned to his red eyes for a fraction of a second. "It's not... logical."[/color]

Which it wasn't. And that was truly why she didn't understand; DOSE's motives were always a riddle to decipher, but for them to create dozens of mindless minions, what could the purpose possibly be? They were easy enough to cut down, and it was more than likely that Utopia was aware of the rebellion's growing numbers, so they couldn't be trying to overwhelm them. Or could they? Either way, the lack of a direct form of motive was something Amaya wasn't sure how to handle.[/size][/div][/td][/tr]
[tr][td]

-- THIS TABLE IS BY SKY OF L2B --

lyrics by ingrid michaelson

[/font][/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[VICTOR BRENTON]

[atrb=cellSpacing,20,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background: url(http://i1121.photobucket.com/albums/l517/obsidianabyss/burntpaper.jpg); border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #f1ca97, bTable][style=font-family: courier new; text-align: right; color: #800000; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: -10px; padding: 5px 30px 1px 5px;]Do or die, you'll never make me[/style][style=font-family: harrington; text-align: right; color: #00000; letting-spacing: 1px; line-height: 5px; padding: 0px 15px 5px 0px;]Though you try, you'll never break me.[/style][style=float: right; width: 270; padding: 10px; height: 310px; overflow: auto; background-color: #E3D5BF; opacity: 0.4; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #808000; font: 10px verdana; color: #000000; text-align: justify;] "True." The general assented, gazing for a split second at the mess that had been made of his shoulder. His lips raised upwards only a fraction. It was a faint ghost of the smile he'd so easily worn before, and a wry one at that, but it was there nonethless. As she spoke, her tone had been.. different, and that fact hadn't been lost on him. The flat, measured, carefully-calculated one she'd used was gone, replaced by something else entirely. It'd been... well... brighter. Darkly amused, if he had read it correctly. And some of the rigid tension was gone from her stance. Though the black depths of her gaze were still nigh-unreadable, she didn't seem to be quite as edgy- or quite so apt to run him through with that katana the moment he made any move that she'd percive as threatening. Mildly, privately, he wondered exactly what had changed, but it was a question to remain just as unanswered as the one she'd searched for in his eyes. It wasn't the sort one voiced aloud. Turning his focus instead to her astute statement, his weak cheer was suddenly subsituted for a decidedly grim expression as the senseless slaughter returned to the forefront of his mind. "Absolutely no logic to it." He mumbled in quiet agreement, clearly thinking. What he had noticed- the bloodlust- it must certainly have been intentional. But the ferocity with which the creatures had attacked had been bought with the steep price of any intelligence, cunning, or even rationality they might have once had. Intent upon the human, they often utterly failed to avoid the weapon. "There weren't enough of them... for that to have any real purpose. With more- with overwhelming numbers, perhaps..." He'd have run his hand through his long hair irritably if it wasn't occupied with his shoulder. As it was, he began pacing. There'd been no point, unless it had been a trial. Nothing more than an experiment to see how their creations functioned. "They're driven by pure bloodlust-- but why?" Abruptly, the general dropped to one knee to examine one of the maimed corpses-- some kind of bovine. An oxen, it might have been- the spikes that marched in a neat row along its back and the shaggy dark fur that obscured what was very nearly the entire massive animal made it difficult to properly judge. Black-gloved fingers relunctantly loosened their hold on his arm to search the tangles of matted brown fur, quickly locating another thick steel collar. At first, it was unremarkable. A bit uncaring, perhaps, that something so massive and metallic had been fastened around the poor creature's neck, but it bore no notice otherwise. Then one finger slipped beneath the collar as he tried to turn it, searching for any mark or engraving on the smooth silver surface, and was cut nearly to the bone. The black leather of his glove had been sheared through as easily as if it had been butter, and he blankly studied his hand as blood welled up in this new, deep gash. His red eyes rapidly darkened, the effect as abrupt and unsettling as ominous storm clouds scuttling to cover a bright sky. Gingerly, he raised the collar as best he could, careful to keep his fingers away from the underside, which was cruelly sharp and still sticky with slowly-congealing blood. Much of the color had faded from his cheeks, and when he finally spoke aloud, his words were few and halting. "Look at this." [/style][style=float: left;] [/style]

[atrb=style, height: 80px; overflow: auto; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #000000; font-family: verdana; color: #800000; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]TAG,~ ~ ~ LYRIC,~ ~ ~ NOTES,~ ~ ~ CREDIT,made by LUCI of OTE. steal & die. ; Edited by Maeka of Defrauding Fate.

[AMAYA SAGA]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 300px; background-image: url(http://i39.tinypic.com/357khus.jpg;); border: 0px solid #000000, bTable][tr][cs=2] but if you wait for someone else's hand then surely you will fall down

[rs=2]

He seemed to almost smile at her reply, only to gradually return to that sincere, bleak expression as she continued. Inwardly she winced at having to bring up such a depressing topic - but no, it had to be done eventually, it was better sooner than later. The question he phrased seemed more rhetorical than anything else, but even if it hadn't been Amaya had no answer. She watched, reverting back to silence, as he paced. It made her nervous again, though she knew he was pacing out of pure frustration, to aid the thinking process, instead of because he expected another attack and was on patrol. The movement was frantic in itself. Forcing herself to hold still, her eyes followed him as sharply as a predator eying its prey, the mirth gone. In its place was that same calculating look she usually wore, as if her mind was racing a million miles a minute. Which it sort of was. When he released his injured arm, she took a little step forward, ready to step in and take over - he was the one more injured, after all - before abruptly stopping herself. He was a general; he could take care of himself. If he'd wanted her help, he would've asked for it. Again resigning herself to observation, dark eyes tracking his every movement, she watched as he slipped a finger under the collar, only to remove it in a split second, a sort of mild, confused shock on his features. It was almost funny, not that she would've laughed. She was moving in for a closer look before he'd said a word, wordlessly sticking her sword in the ground and crouching down opposite him. Her elbows resting on her knees in a sort of odd squat, like she didn't want to be any closer to the felled creature than she had to be, Amaya settled her gaze on the newest discovery. It was one of those collars - only this one was studded or engraved or somehow fashioned to inflict pain. It was hard to make out the exact formation of it, thanks to the dark, still-moist blood that stained the metal, but she didn't really want to get a better look. She knew its purpose, both from the general's finger and the mangled skin of the mutant. By the looks of it, the collar's only purpose was to inflict pain; bad pain, at that, judging by how deep the general's cut was. Eyes darkening even more, her brow creasing just a bit between her brows, Amaya struggled to find words, feeling that the situation called for them, but not knowing what to say. "That's..."

[/color]She stuttered over a few beginnings of words then lapsed back to silence, gently reaching to take the collar from him. Slim fingers brushed over the smooth side, the flawless silver of it, then carefully moved underneath, her fingertip hovering over the tip of one of the sharp points without quite touching it. Lightly, so that barely any weight was applied, she traced the jagged pattern, the corner of her mouth tugging into a little frown without her noticing.

She stopped a few seconds later, releasing the collar quickly, as if it was on fire. The frown disappeared, but something like disgust played over her features. If she was any more emotional, any bit a weaker soldier, she knew she'd be off to one side, emptying her stomach. "That's inhumane. I didn't think even DOSE..." Her words ended shortly and her head shook from side to side ever so slightly. "Are they all like this?"[/color][/size][/div][/td][/tr]
[tr][td]

-- THIS TABLE IS BY SKY OF L2B --

lyrics by ingrid michaelson

[/font][/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[VICTOR BRENTON]

[atrb=cellSpacing,20,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background: url(http://i1121.photobucket.com/albums/l517/obsidianabyss/burntpaper.jpg); border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #f1ca97, bTable][style=font-family: courier new; text-align: right; color: #800000; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: -10px; padding: 5px 30px 1px 5px;]Do or die, you'll never make me[/style][style=font-family: harrington; text-align: right; color: #00000; letting-spacing: 1px; line-height: 5px; padding: 0px 15px 5px 0px;]Though you try, you'll never break me.[/style][style=float: right; width: 270; padding: 10px; height: 310px; overflow: auto; background-color: #E3D5BF; opacity: 0.4; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #808000; font: 10px verdana; color: #000000; text-align: justify;] His expression was flat, drawn, his lips pale and set in a thin line. At first, he said nothing, merely studied the collar with disgust swimming in his eyes. "Completely." The general hoarsely agreed. Her question was a good one-- were they? He didn't especially want to see, but nonethless, he leaned forward, wrapping his fingers around a sleek black foreleg and pulling another cadaver across the grass for them to examine. It was the brown-and-black dog she had cut down, he realized-- the second to fall. Cautiously, he examined the upperside of the collar. A serial number was engraved on the left side, as was DOSE's seal. Discovering nothing amiss, he then scanned the underside, now taking care to keep his fingers clear. There was no razor in this one-- instead, a thin, exposed wire ran through a narrow groove in the polished metal. It wasn't altogether difficult to guess at the purpose. Tightening his glove and trusting the thick leather to protect him, he lightly tapped the slender wire. A faint spark of electricity leapt its way up his arm- not quite enough to be painful, as he'd barely grazed it. But prolonged contact would be excruciating. Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet and turned to the fleshless thing that Amaya had fought off, the thing whose fang was still buried in her arm. It was sprawled on its side, severed head a good several feet away from its body, exposed muscle and sinew glistening morbidly in the bright morning light. It had no collar, but it was clear enough what was wrong with that one, and now he'd seen enough to be convinced that the condition was intentional. Raising his head, he ran a hand through his hair, gazing agitatedly into the distance. DOSE was cruel-- it was a plain, simple fact-- but even they had never gone to such lengths. [/style][style=float: left;] [/style]

[atrb=style, height: 80px; overflow: auto; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #000000; font-family: verdana; color: #800000; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]TAG,~ ~ ~ LYRIC,~ ~ ~ NOTES,~ ~ ~ CREDIT,made by LUCI of OTE. steal & die. ; Edited by Maeka of Defrauding Fate.

[AMAYA SAGA]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 300px; background-image: url(http://i39.tinypic.com/357khus.jpg;); border: 0px solid #000000, bTable][tr][cs=2] but if you wait for someone else's hand then surely you will fall down
[rs=2]	When he spoke, his voice was slightly raw, as if from shock - or was it disbelief? She found the two hard to distinguish now - and grimly the soldier found herself pressing her lips together into a hard little line, not quite a frown, but pretty darn close. She watched as he pulled her first opponent over and proceeded to observe its collar, his fingers gently probing in a way that reminded her of the scientists. Her eyes narrowed a little at the corners as she thought of them, with their glinting glasses and evil minds; the ones who had ruined what might have been an otherwise good city, the ones who unleashed this painfully altered things upon them. She couldn't quite see what was embedded in the metal, and couldn't bring herself to move to a better view. As it turned out, she didn't need to. The little twitch of his shoulder as he tapped something within was clue enough. Her eyes darkened with disgust and she rose to her feet, yanking her sword out of the ground and giving the blade a quick wipe on the trampled grass to remove some of the blood that coated its dark surface, dark and slick like oil. She moved to a different creature while the general went to the hideous thing that had bitten her, giving each a quick inspection with as little contact to the actual thing as possible. In her mind, they were worse than poison, worse than any disease or affliction: these were freaks of nature, monstrosities created in the dark labs of DOSE and raised to be helpless, bloodthirsty killers. Her search revealed nothing more than she'd have expected. Most of the creatures were equipped with collars or other such devices, all inscribed with a number and the symbol of DOSE. Many had a thin exposed wire - she presumed that had been the source of the general's jerk - or sharp points that dug into skin, though there were plenty that had needles embedded into their bodies, some that leaked strange fluids, while others had clearly been ill, with sores that oozed a combination of pus and blood. There were too many versions of the one idea that Amaya's head was brimming with them, her mind going numb to the reality of it to keep her functioning. When she finally turned back to the general, he was still crouched by the fleshless monster, one hand running through his long red hair. He wasn't looking directly at her or the animal, rather sending his gaze off into the distance as if he expected something to come out of it. An answer, perhaps, or more of the things. Feeling like she should say something, but not wanting to break the silence and return to the truth of what had happened, she stood there, the tip of her sword dragging on the ground, her posture tired.
-- THIS TABLE IS BY SKY OF L2B -- lyrics by ingrid michaelson

[/font][/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[VICTOR BRENTON]

[atrb=cellSpacing,20,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background: url(http://i1121.photobucket.com/albums/l517/obsidianabyss/burntpaper.jpg); border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #f1ca97, bTable][style=font-family: courier new; text-align: right; color: #800000; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: -10px; padding: 5px 30px 1px 5px;]Do or die, you'll never make me[/style][style=font-family: harrington; text-align: right; color: #00000; letting-spacing: 1px; line-height: 5px; padding: 0px 15px 5px 0px;]Though you try, you'll never break me.[/style][style=float: right; width: 270; padding: 10px; height: 310px; overflow: auto; background-color: #E3D5BF; opacity: 0.4; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #808000; font: 10px verdana; color: #000000; text-align: justify;] He turned, but rather than force himself to his feet, he let his legs slide out from under him untill he was sitting, slumped, in the blood-slicked grass. Weary-looking eyes searched her out- she'd inspected a few of her own, he supposed, and was now standing a few paces away, a bleak, numbed look in her eyes. He didn't even need to ask what she'd found. In fact, he'd rather not know. The very idea was overwhelming and he banished it from his thoughts, forcibly blinking the blank dazedness away. After a long, lingering lull of silence, he stood, hiding the overtaxed expression etched into his features and the pain that still wavered through his gaze. He crossed the scarlet-spattered field, found his hat lying near a large, graceful-looking thing- scientififcally mutilated or not, it was beautiful, even in death, with its long, graceful legs crumpled beneath the slender body. A gazelle, perhaps. His hand closed around the brim of the fedora, and a sharp flash of sunlight glinted from the thing's dark brown eyes, now dull and unseeing. A bit of sympathy flickered in his own, and slowly, he reached out and closed the wide eyes with a quick, deliberate gesture, before turning. Amaya still hadn't moved, her slender silhouette dark against the blue sky, and he found his way through the maze of corpses towards her. There were things to be done, defenses to be constructed, orders to be made. This was, after all, a war. A soldier and a general had no place lingering on a desolate battlefield-- not once the battle was over. [/style][style=float: left;] [/style]

[atrb=style, height: 80px; overflow: auto; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #000000; font-family: verdana; color: #800000; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]TAG,~ ~ ~ LYRIC,~ ~ ~ NOTES,~ ~ ~ CREDIT,made by LUCI of OTE. steal & die. ; Edited by Maeka of Defrauding Fate.

[AMAYA SAGA]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 300px; background-image: url(http://i39.tinypic.com/357khus.jpg;); border: 0px solid #000000, bTable][tr][cs=2] but if you wait for someone else's hand then surely you will fall down
[rs=2]	He sat there, shoulders slumped like all the energy had gone out of him, and got up slowly, his footsteps quiet on the red grass. She watched him hesitantly, not quite sure whether or not to follow. When he bent down to pick up his hat - she'd nearly forgotten about it in the chaos - she felt a twinge of something. Guilt, perhaps, or loss. Longing for the things no longer within her reach. Whatever it was, it vanished as she saw him stop to look at a slain creature, its long slim legs and graceful features limp as a discarded doll. She watched as he bent down and hesitantly shut its open, blank eyes, all the breath going out of her in a split second so she was left with what felt like a useless empty shell, mind and body suffocating until she remembered to breathe. Something about the gesture was profoundly touching. So touching that it actually disturbed her. She would never understand men. Never understand why they could go from being an open, friendly, yet logical leader to a sensitive, easily moved being, or why there were so many kinds of them out there: the men who cried so easily when a woman broke their heart, the men who got drunk and went around breaking rules to escape from things they were afraid to face, the men who were just plain boring, the men who never quite grew up. How there could be a man like the one before her, complicated and moved and free, and men like the scientists of DOSE, so power-hungry and twisted and horrible. It made no sense. She looked up as he walked over, his lone figure desolate against the bodies, his vibrant hair reminding her eerily of the color staining the ground. In an effort to keep the more gruesome of images from her mind, she kept her head tilted upwards so the grass wasn't visible even in her peripherals. She tried to look ready - ready to follow orders, ready to fight, ready to do whatever she had to do to protect the rebellion she had devoted her heart and soul to. That was the way war worked. There were plans and surprise attacks and fighting and bloodshed, then there was the cleaning up to do immediately afterwards, regardless of whether or not one was ready. How else could they move on?
-- THIS TABLE IS BY SKY OF L2B -- lyrics by ingrid michaelson

[/font][/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[VICTOR BRENTON]

[atrb=cellSpacing,20,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background: url(http://i1121.photobucket.com/albums/l517/obsidianabyss/burntpaper.jpg); border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #f1ca97, bTable][style=font-family: courier new; text-align: right; color: #800000; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: -10px; padding: 5px 30px 1px 5px;]Do or die, you'll never make me[/style][style=font-family: harrington; text-align: right; color: #00000; letting-spacing: 1px; line-height: 5px; padding: 0px 15px 5px 0px;]Though you try, you'll never break me.[/style][style=float: right; width: 270; padding: 10px; height: 310px; overflow: auto; background-color: #E3D5BF; opacity: 0.4; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #808000; font: 10px verdana; color: #000000; text-align: justify;] If he'd noticed her shock, he didn't show it, simply pressing on through the bloodied grass. Now and again he would cast a rather concerned glance at Amaya, and more specifically, the blood still trickling from her deep wound. His own shoulder seemed, for the moment, forgotten. A generous handful of rebels had clustered together at the camp's entrance, now and again stealing glances out onto the deserted battlefield. Exited chatter bubbled up in the crowd, loud enough to muffle the dull thuds of gunshots and the ring of swords that still echoed from the training grounds as wild guesses and insistences were exchanged. Eyes were wide and expressions ran the full spectrum from utter fear to excitement. Half-lost in the chaotic throng was a slender, blue-haired colonel, who the general, raising his good arm, beckoned forward. "This..." He began hesitantly, with a quick, unreadable glance over his shoulder at the countless slain creatures scattered over the bloodied grass, "Is going to have to be cleared away." The colonel nodded quickly, bewildered amber eyes darting towards the gruesome scene. "I'll explain later." The general offered reassuringly, then promptly pressed on. "The barrier needs to be reinforced too. There are more." His tone was one of grim confidence and dark certainty, as if there was no doubt in his mind. There was not. DOSE never acted without reason. The attack, while rather overwhelming for two rebels, had been beaten back easily enough with the reinforcements. Surely they had known this would happen. It had simply been a fluke- or an experiment, perhaps- it required no stretch of the imagination to see the icy-eyed scientists secreted away in the safety of their base, examining data from the battle and taking notes. Planning to improve upon the atrocities they had created. The colonel saluted and scurried off, rounding the gossiping rebels together. His soft voice quickly faded into the distance as the two continued on their way. The medical tents, marked by a hastily-painted, bright red cross, were in the camp's center, sheltered by a rocky outcrop and a copse of ancient oaks. Even before the two had reached the worn canvas, it was being folded back, two white-clad medics trotting towards them. The general was tugged off into a corner of the small tent, Amaya nudged into another, and after much poking and prodding and scanning, it was determined that his collarbone and shoulder blade were cracked, though only slightly. His shoulder was wrapped, his arm was put into a sling, he was forbidden to use it, and he was briskly shooed out, a tiny vial of round white pills folded into his good hand. A wry little grin on his lips, he paused to take in the breezy afternoon. The earlier heat of the day was fading quickly as a spattering of ominous-looking clouds congregated on the horizon, a strong breeze stirring litter and sending tents flapping loudly. [/style][style=float: left;] [/style]

[atrb=style, height: 80px; overflow: auto; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #000000; font-family: verdana; color: #800000; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]TAG,~ ~ ~ LYRIC,~ ~ ~ NOTES,~ ~ ~ CREDIT,made by LUCI of OTE. steal & die. ; Edited by Maeka of Defrauding Fate.

[AMAYA SAGA]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 300px; background-image: url(http://i39.tinypic.com/357khus.jpg;); border: 0px solid #000000, bTable][tr][cs=2] but if you wait for someone else's hand then surely you will fall down
[rs=2]	She still watched him, even as he addressed the rebels who'd gathered around them, like the gruesome display was some sort of scene. Which it actually was, more or less. Her eyes eventually flickered over to them, and a few met her eyes. Some of their expressions were intrigued, others horrified, while some simply held a face of determined anger - vengeance, almost. With a quick half-sigh to regain her wits, Amaya hardened her gaze and most of them looked away. She hated it when people stared. The man who seemed in charge - blue haired, rather young and confused looking - broke off with the group of rebels at his side, and wordlessly she followed the general to the medic, not bothering to spare the carnage a second glance. Her mind was done with that; the majority of her thoughts were now on the aftermath and the future, not the past, though the back of her mind still whirled with all the unanswerable questions the attack had prompted. As the two medics ran out to greet them, her eyes lifted from her feet to meet the business-like gaze of the nurse - were they nurses? She didn't know what to call them - with a defensive look. Luckily it was a female, and she allowed herself to be led away without a word. Apparently word of her feelings had already spread; something she was grateful for, it spared her the arguments. She was pulled into another tent, and the only thing she could think as she went was that the red cross painted hastily on had never looked so much like blood. She was seated somewhat roughly on a rough, uncomfortable cot, and the attending medic selected a pair of large silver tweezers from a set of what appeared to be surgical instruments, scalpels and other things that reminded her of the labs among them, and began to probe around in her arm for the tooth. She let her, her arm limp and the pain dull as the tooth was extracted on set in a little plastic bag. Her forearm was then bandaged, the movements quick and precise, and tied off in a little knot after it had been circled numerous times. She was instructed to return for bandage changing once or twice a day - something she didn't plan on doing, considering she was perfectly capable of such a thing herself - and to keep arm use to a minimum - something else she wouldn't pay much attention to no matter how important, her fighting style required it. Then, handing the bottle of pain pills back to the woman despite protests, she left. The general was waiting outside, apparently having gotten done before her. His injured arm was in a sling and he had something in his hand, though she couldn't quite tell what. Unsure as to whether or not she'd be needed, Amaya walked quietly over and stood beside him, her gaze on the gray clouds as well. If he had something to say, she would listen. If he didn't, then she would find something else to do with herself, injury or not.
-- THIS TABLE IS BY SKY OF L2B -- lyrics by ingrid michaelson

[/font][/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[AMAYA SAGA]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 300px; background-image: url(http://i39.tinypic.com/357khus.jpg;); border: 0px solid #000000, bTable][tr][cs=2] but if you wait for someone else's hand then surely you will fall down

[rs=2]

She felt his eyes on her, and reminded herself not to fidget - she really did not like it when people stared - but he wasn't doing it obviously and evilly and besides, she knew he was checking to make sure she was alright. It was a nice gesture, even if it was unnecessary. Her gaze only returned to the Earth when he spoke, dark eyes flickering up to his. She was briefly overtaken by the urge to simply ignore the question; and simultaneously, the urge to say something smart in return. But that wasn't who she was, so she refrained from doing either. "It's just a scratch."

[/color]

Her piece said, she glanced him over in much the same way. His shoulder was in a sling and his hand was clasped around something that looked suspiciously like the bottle of pain pills she'd returned to the medic just a moment ago. "You look better."[/color] She remarked, with a bit of a smile.

His next proposition made the almost-expression fade, however, and briefly her brow creased. As a whole, Amaya didn't particularly like meetings - everyone staring at her, listening to her, with nowhere to hide and annoying people in the crowd to deal with - but she felt... obliged to do so. To help him. She didn't know why.

"I'll come."[/color] She said decisively before she could give herself the chance to back down. She wasn't sure how helpful she'd be, but the others deserved to know what had happened - what they were up against.

Besides, she thought, a flicker of that same dark emotion flashing through her eyes again as she recalled the battle. Nobody should have to describe something that inexplicable, not alone.[/size][/div][/td][/tr]
[tr][td]

-- THIS TABLE IS BY SKY OF L2B --

lyrics by ingrid michaelson

[/font][/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[VICTOR BRENTON]

[atrb=cellSpacing,20,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background: url(http://i1121.photobucket.com/albums/l517/obsidianabyss/burntpaper.jpg); border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #f1ca97, bTable][style=font-family: smarty pants BTN; text-align: right; color: #800000; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: -10px; padding: 5px 30px 1px 5px;]do or die, you'll never make me[/style][style=font-family: smarty pants BTN; text-align: right; color: #00000; letting-spacing: 1px; line-height: 5px; padding: 0px 15px 5px 0px;]though you try, you'll never break me.[/style][style=float: right; width: 270; padding: 10px; height: 310px; overflow: auto; background-color: #E3D5BF; opacity: 0.4; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #808000; font: 10px verdana; color: #000000; text-align: justify;]The little smile came as a bit of a surprise-- he didn't think he'd ever seen her smile, not until then-- and so he felt an inexplicable little twinge of.. what? (Loss, perhaps?) When the uncharacteristically soft expression vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. He slowly ran a hand through his bright red hair, uncertain whether to be surprised by her unwavering acceptance. "Thank you." He finally said after a long pause, his gaze still oddly distant. It didn't register outwardly, but he was surprised, embarassed, even, that something simple as a smile had managed to distract him, even for half of a heartbeat. After a time, his eyes shifted to the bottle of pills in his hand, and a flicker of mild bemusement lit his expression for an instant. Taking a few silent, catlike steps toward the tent, he pushed the flap aside quietly, set the pills just to the side of the makeshift doorway where they would certainly be found, and ducked back out, unseen. It was easier than arguing with the medics. "We'd better get to it, then..." He murmured, pushing up his glasses with a fingertip and finally turning to survey the camp-- now in quite the state of disarray. He draped his coat over his shoulders and spared an instant to wonder where his hat had gone before immediately dissmising the thought. He set off at a brisk pace, now and again veering off the path towards another commander to exchange a few hurried words. Delayed progress aside, they soon stood before a battered wooden structure-- far from the largest in the camp, but spacious compared to some of the tents. The door creaked heavily as the general nudged it open. Inside, it was dark, light filtering in through a single glassless window, and empty save for an enormous table with a variety of mismatched chairs scattered in various positions around it. He righted the nearest chair, left leaning against the tabletop, and promptly stepped aside, offering it to Amaya and pulling out another for himself. The same blue-haired colonel who'd been directing the battlefield cleanup soon made a wary entrance, tentatively gazing around. With a quick salute, he took a seat on the other side of the table, long, slender fingers tapping out a nervous rythmn on the scarred wood. A tall blonde woman, another general, soon joined the trio, finding a chair wordlessly and crossing one long leg over the other before becoming occupied with the buttons on her coat. [/style][style=float: left;] [/style]

[atrb=style, height: 80px; overflow: auto; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #000000; font-family: verdana; color: #800000; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]TAG,~ ~ ~ LYRIC,~ ~ ~ NOTES,~ ~ ~ CREDIT,made by LUCI of OTE. steal & die. ; Edited by Maeka of Defrauding Fate.

[AMAYA SAGA]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 300px; background-image: url(http://i39.tinypic.com/357khus.jpg;); border: 0px solid #000000, bTable][tr][cs=2] but if you wait for someone else's hand then surely you will fall down

[rs=2]

She couldn't quite read the expression that flickered across his face - but whatever it was, it was gone too quickly for her to even think about it. She gave a brief nod to his thanks, a sort of amused look briefly flashing through her eyes as he sneakily returned the pills, and followed him to wherever it was that they were going without another word. She really had no idea where, exactly, the privileged soldiers of the rebellion worked. She knew, of course, that there was a main building, but she'd never actually been inside, and found it difficult to keep track of exactly which one it was. The largest, perhaps? As she walked, Amaya took close notes of the path. She doubted she'd ever have anything so important to share with the leaders ever again, but it would be good to know the place. It surprised her, this meeting place. It wasn't particularly impressive, a bit larger than average sized, perhaps, with a nice open room dominated by one single table. It was quite dark inside, too, and she briefly hesitated as her eyes adjusted from the bright outside. She offered another quiet, polite nod of thanks as he righted a chair for her, going over to it and hesitating before she sat. The sword at her hip was never extremely convenient for sitting, and since she never really sat still during the day she never bothered, but this was an official place and it might take a while... Her hands moving quickly to loosen the long, thin bulk of a shaft from her belt, Amaya propped the sheathed sword against the edge of her chair and only then did she take a seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable in such a large empty space. Or perhaps that was because the General was sitting right beside her, even more uncomfortably close than before. But no,

[/color] she thought to herself. I hate man, but he is not the same as the weak fools whom I detest.

She watched the doorway stoically as the man from earlier, recognizable with his alert, almost nervous eyes and blue hair, entered, casting them a look and a quick salute to the general before he too sat. She watched him for a moment before the blond woman entered, earning another look from Amaya - she did not know this woman, whatever her rank, and suddenly found it odd that this was so. As a soldier, she should have better knowledge of her superiors, or what soldier was she?

The sense of discomfort returned now that there were others in the room, clearly higher ranked than she, and her gaze dropped to the table and her pale clenched hands as she waited. Waiting for what, she was not sure; how many of her superiors would be here was not a figure she could even start to guess at.

But she wasn't going to turn back now. No, she'd agreed to this - and this meeting, however it turned out, would be an interesting one. She knew it. [/size][/div][/td][/tr]
[tr][td]

-- THIS TABLE IS BY SKY OF L2B --

lyrics by ingrid michaelson

[/font][/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[VICTOR BRENTON]

[atrb=cellSpacing,20,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background: url(http://i1121.photobucket.com/albums/l517/obsidianabyss/burntpaper.jpg); border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #f1ca97, bTable][style=font-family: smarty pants BTN; text-align: right; color: #800000; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: -10px; padding: 5px 30px 1px 5px;]do or die, you'll never make me[/style][style=font-family: smarty pants BTN; text-align: right; color: #00000; letting-spacing: 1px; line-height: 5px; padding: 0px 15px 5px 0px;]though you try, you'll never break me.[/style][style=float: right; width: 270; padding: 10px; height: 310px; overflow: auto; background-color: #E3D5BF; opacity: 0.4; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #808000; font: 10px verdana; color: #000000; text-align: justify;] The four were left alone for a good while, and the woman finally looked up, surveying the table with eyes catlike in their startling shade of green. "Brenton." She acknowledged the general by his last name-- suggesting that she was his rank or higher-- inclining her head slightly in greeting, she promptly shifted her electric gaze to the colonel, who squirmed in his chair and met her stare with wide eyes. "I don't belive I know your name." He blinked at her blankly, as if he hadn't quite taken in her question, and then sputtered to life several seconds too late. "A-ah, I'm sorry, I.." Victor, watching the exchange with a half-bemused smile on his lips, took pity on the colonel and spoke up in his stead. "Colonel Lee. Lee, this is General Valentine." He paused, turning to Amaya, who had yet to say a word, and nodded in her direction, including her in the introductions. "And this is Saga." He would have gone on, or so it seemed, but they were interrupted by the rather abrupt entrance of the rest of the generals-- and the rebellion's leader himself. [/style][style=float: left;] [/style]

[atrb=style, height: 80px; overflow: auto; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #000000; font-family: verdana; color: #800000; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]TAG,~ ~ ~ LYRIC,~ ~ ~ NOTES,~ ~ ~ CREDIT,made by LUCI of OTE. steal & die. ; Edited by Maeka of Defrauding Fate.

[AMAYA SAGA]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 300px; background-image: url(http://i39.tinypic.com/357khus.jpg;); border: 0px solid #000000, bTable][tr][cs=2] but if you wait for someone else's hand then surely you will fall down
[rs=2]	She sat there, unmoving and quiet, observing the exchange between the three ranked members of the rebellion with a sort of detached curiosity. The woman, whom she assumed to be a general at least, was the sort of woman common among rebels - headstrong, powerful, direct - and the colonel from earlier was the exact epitome of a weak link. Amaya didn't pity him. She knew he must have done something to earn the position he currently held, and whatever the reason for his actions, she thought he ought to get over it. It was the duty of such a person. Then there was General Brenton, who acted much the same as she'd observed him to be. The only surprise came when he stated her name. Saga. It hadn't been said out loud like that for a while. She glanced up upon hearing it, gaze flickering between the two strangers, and did nothing. What was she supposed to do? She didn't know, though that might have just been her. She did have a tendency to be rather socially awkward. Luckily she was spared any further reaction by the abrupt entrance of what must've been everyone else with rank in the rebellion. A flock of men and women came in, parting into two individual streams of people as they entered, each taking a seat around the wooden table. Last, entering just as the remaining officers took their seat, came a man whom Amaya had never met in person, but heard many a rumor about. The leader. The one behind it all. She swallowed once, the action small but belaying her discomfort and nervousness. She was struck by another bout of inadequacy, more so than ever before. In a room full of all these accomplished people, what was she but a mere girl, the one who happened to be there upon the attack? Her presence was unprecedented, simple; cringing mentally, she sat rigidly in the chair in a position of forced relaxation, fearing the gazes that she expected to come, even though nothing had truly developed as of yet. It was ironic, really, that she who hardly reacted in the face of a bloodthirsty, ravaged animal - with chunks of flesh falling out, no less - feared a group of people more than all of DOSE's experiments combined.
-- THIS TABLE IS BY SKY OF L2B -- lyrics by ingrid michaelson

[/font][/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center]