exsilium | Video | BACKDATED to early the 11th

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Video | BACKDATED to early the 11th

[It's early Wednesday morning when a new video message turns up on the network. The nun seems to have none of her usual energy and the bags under her eyes are fairly pronounced. Flynn and Fluffy have likely put up with her pacing almost incessantly since dinner time last night, and even now she fidgets in her seat, fingers playing with an ornamental looking watch hanging at her neck.]

Has anyone seen Chrono? Short, grumpy, purple hair. He's usually with me.

... He might have been in some kind of fight, so I'll take anything. Or anyone to help me look.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[What kind of holy prophet are you thinking of, woman.]

Weapons? No, none.

[Wait a minute.]

You believe we'll need weapons?

[Naturally, the one idealized by an order where nuns with rocket launchers is a thing.]

Eh? None? Do you want to learn one?

... And probably. Whatever happened, he didn't go willingly.

[Now really isn't the time for weapon practicing.]

No, that's not necessary.

[She'll kindly assume that means there's an evident struggle somewhere.]

Perhaps I can try looking for him. Where do you believe he may have been taken? Is there any evidence?

I... wait a minute. I know this thing can do this.... [Her view vanishes from the screen a few moments as she pokes at something on the tablet.]

[And the image reappears on a secured line.]

I don't know how much you know about these sort of things... [She pauses, even resolved, it's not a small thing to say to the idealized woman of their order. Would she judge it? Stop talking to her, as many of her peers had originally? But no... she seemed to know Chrono, liked him, was his friend... if anyone would understand...] but he's contracted with me. So, all I know is that he needed to fight. I don't know where, or why it happened...

I haven't heard from him... then or after.

[There's only concern where there probably should have been at least a little bit of surprise.]

Are you all right?

[Of all the reactions she was expecting, concern wasn't one of them. In fact, it's one of the things she knows how to deal with THE LEAST.]

Eh? ... yes, of course. I'm fine. [It is the one and only lie Rosette is practiced in enough to be good at.]

[She isn't convinced. But arguing the matter would just be wasting time. The concern holds in her eyes - or is it sympathy - as she speaks.]

I'll try to see what has happened. Where are you?

I'm in 304!

... Don't mind the lion, he's a sweety.

[A... lion. She won't ask. But for a small moment she does look surprised.]

... I'll be there as soon as I can.

[And sure enough, it takes her a few minutes but she arrives at the room and knocks gently on the door.]

[There's some shuffling and Rosette opens the door. Behind her, Mary can see where she's started sorting foodstuff into perishable and non. Beside it is a small array of weapons...]

Come in, come in!

Thank you.

[Gliding passed the door, she'll close it behind her. It doesn't take her long before she sees the preparations.]

You're going to look for him. When?

... Well, I don't want to waste the light.

[She'd love to find him too, find him to be totally unharmed and safe, but just charging out while they have no idea what has really occurred will only waste time and get them nowhere. Still, she won't condemn Rosette's determination, just maybe her methods.]

Where will you start?

The nearby perimeter of the city first. Get a map to check off areas, and I know someone who knows hiding areas out there.

It's not much, it's probably not even likely... but it's a start.

[It's a fair start, certainly. But it still could take too much time. They'd be looking aimlessly.]

When did you see him last? Where was he?

[She slouches, a little miserably.]

Right here... It was early in the morning, and everything was fine. I went to work and everything.

[That's something but it isn't enough and the apartment, for the most part, doesn't look as though a fight occurred anywhere near it. There's a hint of urgency to her voice where it's been otherwise rather.]

Do you have any idea where he may have been fighting or where he was intending to go for the day?

I spent all last night searching the route... And I know a couple of spots we decided would be good if we had to pull a battle to it.

If you have a map I can mark them, or I can take you. [She was never one for collecting evidence, there were others in the order with an eye for that sort of thing. But for the life of her she couldn't see any signs amongst the destitution and squalor of a demon fighting something that could have overpowered him.]

[Without any hesitation,]

Take me there.

[She picks up one of her handguns and sets it into the holster at her belt. She nods, stepping past Mary to get the door.]

We'll start by the market, then.

[With a determined nod, she follows after Rosette.]

[The trip down is quick, as those things go. A light drizzle has started, almost like clockwork for this time of day.

Rosette picks a direction, heading north on a moderately well paved roadway. Natives residents look up as they pass. Most look back down or turn back to their work in disinterest, but one mutters a curse, and spits on the ground in front of him.]

He was working on a sewing project, so I don't know if he went early or not. But usually, it's down this way.

[There are alleys as they pass, yawning and dark even in the midmorning haze.]

[... A sewing project. One of his newer skills, she'll guess. Through the thought, however, she manages to nod and keep pace. She hardly looks toward any other direction except where Rosette is headed. In the corner of her eye, (or well, what most might consider to be the corner of their eye) she can see the faces of those they pass, what they're doing, their livelihoods. It dawns on her that perhaps one of them had seen Chrono recently, but to look may be too much. It's easier to focus on the task at hand than get lost in her surroundings.]

[Rosette picks the clearer paths through as the area expands into something of a square. Little crowds gather around a charismatic young man, hawking unlabelled bottles, standing, barefoot on a crate. Small stalls selling salvaged and scavenged antiques and necessities mix with rickety, well guarded tables, where food is kept under close eye.

Appraising, sharp eyes of those looking for an easy mark, the calculating looks of day merchants, and the simple tunnel vision apathy of those here to seek what they need.

Rosette herself drifts between stalls, peering down cul-de-sacs and alleys for any sign of.. well... anything. This area is far less intimidating than it was after dark, letting her feel a bit more brave about the darker corners.

In the mean time, two children playing tag nearly run Mary over. The elder of the two slaps the younger brother in the back of the head, murmurs an apology and they both run off.]

If... we find something, can you tell what happened?

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