You don't know the worst. This bit we're on now, this is the easy section.
6300
YEARS OLD
played by
Maruzen
|
[nospaces] [attr="class","back-thing2"] [attr="class","app-title"]SHERMAN FIREFLY [attr="class","sub-thing2"] [attr="class","sub-text2"]Physical Description  [attr="class","temp-text2"]
"You would think otherwise but some amount of instinct on the job is permissible. You can follow the rulebook like a snail along a razor's edge if you so choose, but what would that communicate to me about your capacity to lead, to make decisions?" said Sherman, adjusting her slim, matte garments and using the flat side of a neck knife to smooth any missed creases. A Council insignia decorated her navy necktie. "There's something to be said for making the best of a lost situation or scenario. I find that very inspiring, not to mention heartening." She crouched next to a cut snare wire as she completed her thought. The less-worn end of the broken wire would make an excellent reserve hairtie. Her power of estimation placed hairtie-R at 40% capacity and hairtie-L at 89% capacity. Upon further scrutiny, the snare fragments appeared too short to double over themselves in the interest of properly supporting her blonde pigtails. At a straight-on angle, the wire bits almost vanished against the emerald-green eyes inspecting them. "Fine enough." Sherman tied the wire into the bristles of her hairbrush. Satisfied, she plucked her precious implement from atop the crudely-fashioned crate. Even at 170 cm tall, lugging a crate this large failed to pose a problem to the stalwart Sherman, nor did the weight of the criminal inside the crate. Viridian bar-shaped markings almost overlapping one another in number faded from view as she rolled down the sleeves of her dress shirt. [attr="class","app-bottom"]6300 | [attr="class","app-bottom"]PANSEXUAL | [attr="class","app-bottom"]ANGEL |
[break][break] [attr="class","sub-thing2"] [attr="class","sub-text2"]Personality  [attr="class","temp-text2"]Sherman balanced the umbrella atop the crate, as the rain deflected off onto the cobblestone around her. As the downpour had increased in strength, she calibrated her path back to the Council building. In the dry space beneath, the criminal's contraband consumables lay strewn near her ankles. As was her luck, the rain had begun just before Sherman could request assistance in taking her captive into custody. After inspecting each item, making sure to tag them for confiscation, she checked her pocketwatch in the hopes that this precipitation-induced delay wouldn't keep her from meeting Amy. Things that almost flustered Sherman: tea brewed too strong and biscuits left to grow stale. Things, people rather, that did fluster her: Amy Faye. Between the good-natured yet relentless teasing and her way of referring to Sherman's surname as merely 'Fly', not to mention the unfettered disregard for both decorum and protocol, Sherman wondered if she'd ever go a touch daft by continuing to spend time with her long-standing friend. Firefly wouldn't dream of ceasing doing so anyhow, nor would Amy let her. Sherman had hoped Amy's devil-may-care stance would shift to be the exception once she entered her position as a Council member, yet the picnics and drinking parties continued, albeit now funded on Council coin. That being said, some Council members were a good bit more grim than Sherman tended towards. Being a Council member wasn't about being serious or grim, otherwise Ankokku could well occupy all three seats. She conceived it to be more keeping a cool head, and leading by example. A- And not getting flustered. "Mmmphbt..!" Wriggling, and attempting to protest in spite of the rope bindings silencing them, Sherman's captive strained in several different directions. "Right, I suppose you're as gutted as I am about this officer business," she shrugged, slicing a bit of a biscuit for them with the 'flat' edge of her chisel-grind sword. "But chin up, I'm sure it'll catch on, in time. Ah, actually chin down, for you, keep your chin down now, will you? I fear keeping your chin angled upwards would make it rather simple for your party to spot the whites of your eyes and, by extension, spot where I am. There's no better way to keep sharp than by keeping sharp company, is there? That would be true if aberrations to sense like the Hanyang woman weren't around."
[break][break] [attr="class","sub-thing2"] [attr="class","sub-text2"]History and Relations  [attr="class","temp-text2"]Join the Council! How can't you? The family inanity oft-repeated to a younger her ran through a rained-out recollection. Sherman checked the fasteners of her coat before wrapping up the remaining biscuits. "Have you, have you ever a friend whom you shared your world with, and vice versa? Only to discover later that, er, their world has later become completely foreign to you now?" she said, letting rain dribble off her blade in a torpid attempt at maintenance. Attempts at muted footsteps echoed from the alleys around her. With her sleeve, she wiped the remaining water from the weapon before sheathing the thin, squared-off sword. "I, I chafe at the idea of imagining what I could have done different during those cursed days. If not me to try and find her, then who? I'd thought. Listen a little further, if you'd be so kind. I recall raving and ranting about a 'contempt for danger'. A very admirable and gallant concept, as well as simply a nice combination of words to make such a phrase. But when my dearest friend, whom I'd arguably spent more time with than my own family, disappeared? I proved that, then, it was just a phrase for her and I to discuss, to dream about embodying. I'm different now. But it doesn't make a very large difference to then, does it?" Silhouettes emerged around her and her prisoner, the logical conclusion of the faint step sounds earlier. "Takuto knows about what you know, now. No names, of course. He finds some way of, between snores, dismissing my regrets as fruitless. There's a world in which he's right. Nevertheless, I have an afternoon tea appointment with a friend that I musn't be late for." Sherman Firefly deposited her captive back into the chest and sat atop it. The gang's petite dirks and daggers reflected the light from their impressive anti-rain torch magick. Surrounding the position, the ruffians stared down Firefly. "I cannot accept your turning yourselves in, regrettably. I have not the proper equipment to take you all prisoner!" she declared upon drawing her blade.
[break][break] [attr="class","app-bottom"]GIRLS' FRONTLINE, Welrod |
|
|
"I'll raise hell myself."
PERFECTION
YEARS OLD
played by
|
[attr="class","back-thing"] [attr="class","temp-title"]Welcome to Pavane! [attr="class","temp-text"]While Takuto may be snoring, he hears everything his adviser has to say. He looks forward to speaking with you.
Be sure to post in the face-claims and directory if you haven't already. |
|
|
