Cille Ruins World Peace and War by Bursting: S3

[17:11] * Oxford changes topic to 'Ei bensiinia - sodan rajoitukset'
[17:16] <@Oxford> For the next three hours, the truck continues its journey, south and east across the waving grassland. Vladko sits in sullen silence, occasionally nodding off against the side of the truck, only to be woken by the next bump in the road. The sun is high, and the sink of decay rises from the marshlands.
[17:21] <Cille_Lund> She WAS in high spirits, but then she sliced her spirits into bloody chunks. The voices, perhaps growing tired themselves for ~reasons~, or perhaps avoiding getting their crystals chipped, haven't said a word for a while themselves!
[17:22] <Cille_Lund> The road ahead is quite long, but...hopefully she can at least do what she came there for once she arrives! If anything, she must do that. If it's all for naught...
[17:26] <@Oxford> The truck hits a pothole, a handsbreadth deep and filled with murky water. The bed of the truck bounces hard enough to lift Cille from the bench and slam her back down again. A splash of grayish filth spatters the canvas covering, soaking through and leaving wet stains on the heavy cloth. Vladko jolts awake, shaking his head blearily.
[17:30] <Cille_Lund> ...Focus on the mission. Focus on the mission. Focus on the miss--aaaaa. While she's impossible to even so much as touch when she's transformed, when she isn't, she's a person who is feeling a bit sore now, and maybe just a bit woozy. At least she wasn't entirely asleep. Sort of hard to sleep after making...macabre art, but at least now she knows she might as well not even try to sleep!
[17:34] <@Oxford> The ex-pilot sitting across from her rests his hands on his knees. His head hangs, slumped down like a dog caught stealing from the dinner table. He looks at her, and then, seeing her look back, turns to look out the back of the truck.
[17:40] <Cille_Lund> The awkward levels show no signs of slowing. She wants to be able to meet his gaze, but...with what she did out there, and with what's to come quite possibly involving more of it...she ends up looking out the back of the truck as well. If anything, feeling like she's actually going somewhere might whet away a few minutes.
[17:46] <@Oxford> The road behind them has a few curves, and is lightly muddy. As she watches, the landscape changes listlessly from wet lowlands to higher prairie, with a few stands of trees every few hundred metres to break up the landscape.
[17:46] <@Oxford> There's another bump, just like the pothole, except this time Cille is surprised to see a pair of railroad tracks receding into the distance behind the truck. They are back in what passes for civilization here in Novgoraad.
[17:52] <Cille_Lund> Bump. She was somewhat prepared this time! ...At least it isn't as wet anymore...but it's still cold, so ugh. ...She can take it, though. She's gotta!
[17:52] <Cille_Lund> She speaks, mostly under her breath. "Must be getting closer..."
[17:55] <@Oxford> Vladko looks at her from the bench opposite, somewhat impassively. "Huh?"
[17:57] <Cille_Lund> She speaks up, though still passes as quiet. "Railroad tracks, can't be entirely in the middle of nowhere now."
[17:59] <@Oxford> He shrugs. "The trans-ruthenian railroad runs the length of the country, even through the interior. But you're right, we're probably near a town or village."
[18:05] <Cille_Lund> The more you know! ...All the more reason to focus on the mission, and sincerely hope that if they have to go through one of those, that she's able to pass off as 'not a deadly weapon'! ...'Person'...'Weapon-person.' Sure.
[18:07] <@Oxford> As if on cue, the truck begins to slow down. There's a loud crackling noise as it steers off of the road and into a patch of bushes.
[18:11] <@Oxford> "Sorry about," Marupol leans through the rear window and calls back to them. "We need petrol."
[18:15] <Cille_Lund> ...Ah, they'd spent so long going far that she'd entirely forgotten about fuel even being a thing. She was about to ask, but there it is, a reason! Hnnnn.
[18:18] <@Oxford> The truck stops, and Marupol disappears from the window, only to reappear a second later by the tailgate of the truck. She says something fast and complicated to Vladko, and he nods quickly.
[18:22] <@Oxford> "We're going to go siphon some fuel, since we probably can't buy it here," Vladko says. "You can, uh...wait here, I guess."
[18:25] <Cille_Lund> "I would...probably attract too much attention if I had to speak, with my grasp of the language. B-Be safe!" She weighs the good and the bad...and figures maybe, they could use some distance from her anyhow.
[18:29] <@Oxford> Vladko nods. "You too," he says, and then trots after Marupol, who has already started down the road toward the village. When he catches up with her, she turns and says something too quiet and foreign to make out exactly. A joke, of some kind: Vladko laughs, and Marupol laughs too. Her red curls bounce with each step, catching the sunlight through the pine trees.
[18:35] <Cille_Lund> ...He finds it easier to take it...well, easy with her. ...It's not a surprise, right? Cille just cut up men and their horses, and to distance themselves from that would provide some relief.
[18:37] <Cille_Lund> "And she's probably a better looker, too." "And she's a native." "And not weighed down by the burden of carrying them." "Or several years of trauma!"
[18:38] <Cille_Lund> Cille cracks off the crystal containing those damnedable voices, and sincerely tries to FOCUS ON THE MISSION, to limited success. She watches them go (though if they look back, her head was totally just looking at this mighty fine truck interior)!
[18:41] <@Oxford> There is certainly an easiness to the way they depend on each other. They had been working together for a while, before Cille reappeared in his life. There must have been countless hours they spent alone together, knowing the other was the only one they could rely on.
[18:47] <Cille_Lund> As much as she'd like to delude herself, the success is...entirely limited. Such is a thought that's been on her mind a fair amount! Perhaps their bond was only as strong as it was because he practically had to DEPEND on Cille in the middle of a land that would kill him in a heartbeat. And perhaps even though a relationship with Marupol is on similar grounds, to call them the same would be a lie. The land isn't hostile, just misguided. And while his new, rebellious company would be tense to have him around, it's Marupol that he's actually with, far away from any dangerous fellows...
[18:49] <Cille_Lund> ...and perhaps they only now hold onto it because he needs her to advance their caus--no, no, stop that. If that were the case, and no more, that would be it. That would be the end.
[18:50] <Cille_Lund> ...It seems her worst enemy is dishonesty. Did she think to bring drawing supplies?
[18:53] <@Oxford> She doesn't have any of the usual materials - even what little she brought with her to Novgoraad was left at the lean-to when they fled. The truck, however, is full of paper, so if she could find something to write with she'd have plenty to write on.
[18:57] <Cille_Lund> Then, she's got a mission. Of course, she checks the back of the truck to see if she can find anything first, so as to save her the problem of getting out. Even if it's one color, she can still work with shades...
[18:59] <@Oxford> The search doesn't turn up anything. The binders are all full of typed pages, nothing hand-written, so it isn't too surprising there isn't a pen or pencil stuck in there. It's certainly inconvenient, though.
[19:01] <Cille_Lund> ...Worth a shot. That leaves the front. Goodness knows what was kept in the front. She goes over TO the front, after looking around to see if there's anyone in the immediate area. If she's spotted and questioned, it wouldn't end well!
[19:04] <Cille_Lund> I mean, she could look from the back, but...for the sake of time management, she might as well hurry along. Once they start moving, she'll never get a straight line in (and she'd have to explain what she's doing, which could raise tensions even further)!
[19:06] <@Oxford> The undergrowth is thick around the truck where it barrelled into the bushes, but Marupol trampled it down a bit to get to the back. The door to the cab of the truck swings open with an unpleasant screech of broken branches rubbing against sheet metal, but Cille can climb inside and look around.
[19:10] <Cille_Lund> Nnnnnnnnnn--ok hopefully no one was actually attracted to that, but gotta do what you gotta do to get an edge, and maybe stop worrying to death.
[19:10] <@Oxford> Unfortunately, the cab is as empty as the bed was. It isn't unreasonable to expect something to write with to be in the glove compartment or the center console,  but perhaps Novgoraad doesn't expect their soldiers to do as much paperwork as more modern armies. Or perhaps she just struck out. In any event, the only source for a writing implement would seem to be the village.
[19:11] * Cille_Lund climbs in and looks for something to write with, ANYTHING.
[19:19] <@Oxford> There! Deep under the driver's seat, back where the dust collects, a small stub of a pencil is jammed into the adjustment rail that controls how far forward the seat will slide.
[19:22] <Cille_Lund> ...There. ...Hrm. This...
[19:23] <Cille_Lund> She tries to take a light hold of the seat while wedging the pencil out. Hopefully this isn't there for a reason...!
[19:28] <@Oxford> She can just barely reach the pencil-nub with her fingers, and after giving it a few flicks it falls free and slides within reach. It is unpainted, and has an odd, flattened shape. The graphite core is wider than a standard writing-pencil, and much lower in quality than the sort Cille would buy at an art store - it is soft, but crumbles unevenly.
[19:35] <Cille_Lund> ...Ugh. To make anything with this is hopeless. And it's probably all there IS in here. If she wanted to make anything extremely precise, it'd be hopeless. Eraser is probably also something that would just make nothing but smears.
[19:35] <Cille_Lund> ...What if...that's absurd. Absurd, but potentially possible.
[19:36] <Cille_Lund> She's got enough paper to try. And even if it comes out low quality, it'd be better than this.
[19:36] <Cille_Lund> ...To draw a drawing utensil. Desperate?
[19:37] <Cille_Lund> ...Yeah, that's pretty desperate. She gives up finding anything better though, makes sure the seat hasn't become undone, and returns to the back.
[19:40] <Cille_Lund> Then, there should be some spare paper...hopefully some blanks, but even if not, it'll do. Get a feel for just HOW shoddy this thing is...and make an attempt to make something less shoddy without the damn thing falling apart.
[19:40] <Cille_Lund> And THEN see if she can actually pull it off without, say, leveling the truck.
[19:44] * Katsuo_Nightarrow is now known as Aori_Radidjiu
[19:46] <Cille_Lund> And then, it comes! It's...well, with only one color to worth with, it's not exactly hard to pinpoint it as unnatrual. With how shoddy the other one was, she couldn't exactly get much shading either, and perhaps there's a few strange bumps and such. But still, the strange white pencil, with a black eraser and a painstakingly fine point (she started with it, and maybe have had to make several versions of this one point), should end up better than what she had before, and capable to...well, actually be used to draw anything! As opposed to barely able to write legibly.
[19:50] <@Oxford> It's fortunate the binders have so much paper in them. Most of it is typed on both sides, but there are enough pages with one blank face for her to never worry about running out.
[19:53] <Cille_Lund> Alrighty. Thank goodness that trial's over. Note to self, KEEP THIS WITH HER. Even if it's just one shade, people have been fine with monochrome for years.
[19:56] <@Oxford> Still no sign of Vladko and Marupol. Are they taking a long time? Should she be worried? On the other hand, it gives her plenty of time to work on her drawing without worrying about bumps in the road.
[19:57] <Cille_Lund> Then, her big project can begin in earnest. Creating a lens with which she can see the truth. A means by which all is revealed. She cannot close her eyes to the truth, but even so, truth eludes her. And it's more often than not, stabbed her somewhere. Emotionally! The very fear of this being a running trend (they ARE taking a long time) is more than enough to commence the project, but the fact that government folks just love to lie provides a sound reasoning, for if she ever sees her friends again, she's sure that kind of thing is bound to follow.
[19:59] <Cille_Lund> Is this dishonest, maybe? Well, if you do nothing but speak truths to people that would consider backstabbing, you're gonna get backstabbed sooner, rather than later. First, the structure. Sadly, she can think of nothing better to see the truth with than...a pair of glasses. Gotta get the shading of the lens juuuuuuust right. Maybe a fancy design. Shame it'll be limited in color, but maybe that makes it cooler.
[20:03] <Cille_Lund> Then, she's gotta draw enough things around it so as to be able for magic to imply what it'd be used FOR, and how that thing does what it does. Otherwise she'd probably just get a pair of glasses, which, while nice, isn't exactly what this road led to.
[20:05] <Cille_Lund> Glasses in which those telling blatant lies are shrouded in black, and the less of a liar they're being, the less...black the shroud. Well, it's more of a grey, really, but hey, that's the point!
[20:06] <Cille_Lund> It'd be kinda hard to tell if anyone's lying in the dark, but she's got no color to work with, so glowing effects are pretty much impossible. And making things glow whiter if they lie would be harder to implement, as well as not symbolic enough.
[20:06] <Cille_Lund> To get everything right, she'll be at it for a while. Perhaps they'll come before...or perhaps they won't.
[20:09] <@Oxford> As she draws, she can feel her intent flowing out through the pencil, becoming manifest upon the page. Her powers are focused down into this single, concrete task, and the art rushes out of her as though gripped by some crazed inspiration.
[20:10] <Cille_Lund> Needing to switch colors would probably mess with her flow, ever so slightly. But she doesn't need to!
[20:11] <Cille_Lund> So she works like a demon, fully intent on...the art, and its purpose. Perhaps there will be a day she'll become wrapped up in art that has no such immediate purpose...
[20:14] <Cille_Lund> Once all is said and done, all that's left is the actual magic. ...She CANNOT hose this. Even if such an act scars her for life, she must not hose this. It's the only way she'll be able to calm her soul. She's gotta go all out.
[20:14] * Raitaki ([email protected]) has joined #WorldWarBurst
[20:21] <Cille_Lund> ...And she does that. She goes all out.

---

[20:15] <Cille_Lund> 5d6+7
[20:15] <PsychoRoll> Cille_Lund, 5d6+7: 28 [5d6=6,6,2,5,2]
[20:15] <Cille_Lund> 2d6
[20:15] <PsychoRoll> Cille_Lund, 2d6: 12 [2d6=6,6]
[20:15] <Cille_Lund> .
[20:16] <Cille_Lund> fuk
[20:16] <Cille_Lund> 2d6
[20:16] <PsychoRoll> Cille_Lund, 2d6: 4 [2d6=1,3]
[20:16] <Cille_Lund> looks like
[20:16] <Oxford> 7 OC?
[20:16] <Cille_Lund> yes
[20:17] <Cille_Lund> and if my earlier tallies are not mistaken
[20:17] <Cille_Lund> I had 3 spare OC.
[20:17] <Oxford> Well, the good news is you'll have some very nice glasses.
[20:17] <Oxford> What stat is this in?
[20:17] <Cille_Lund> The bad news is that I might not be awake to enjoy them.
[20:17] <Cille_Lund> Heart.
[20:18] <Cille_Lund> this is what Cille gets for being boring
[20:18] <Oxford> >Heart
[20:18] <Oxford> Heart...spawn?
[20:18] <Cille_Lund> Of the weakest order, but yes. Yes.
[20:19] <Oxford> Oh dear.

---

[20:28] <@Oxford> As she does, she feelsthe magic within her pouring out, into the page. The paper she drew on crumples up on itself, sucking in more pages from the binders nearby until it forms a ball the size of a melon. The ball of crumpled paper opens like a flower, and at its heart are a perfect pair of glasses, simple yet subtly powerful.
[20:32] <@Oxford> As the process completes, Cille feels a strange pull, as if a string tied to her navel is being pulled out through her back. The magical energy she put into the glasses races back into her, overwhelming her ability to reabsorb such a huge amount of raw power. Her skin heats up like she has a fever, and sweat beads on her skin as the whirlpool of energy races back into her.
[20:37] <Cille_Lund> ...Ooh no. This is...gggg. She...she overdid it. In her excitement, her fear, her negligence...
[20:38] <@Oxford> She feels the familiar nausea of focus-pendant feedback, and she clenches her jaw to keep from vomiting. The effort drives her to the bed of the truck, and she curls into a ball. Everything starts to go black. As her vision fades, she sees something huge and hideous towering over her above the tattered remains of the canvas canopy, covered in blood and relishing its first breath of life.
[20:38] <@Oxford> /session