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Post by Hans on Mar 26, 2016 0:24:20 GMT
The sound of my shoes hitting the concrete echoes through the warehouse and it's really almost melodical. How abandoned is this place anyway? The wooden crates are stacked pretty high, much higher than I could hope to scour, so I guess it's lucky Ginger felt in the mood to come down here as well. He hijacked my solo mission, though I'm not sure if out of boredom or kindness. Maybe he was feeling lonely? I doubt he'd acknowledge it himself, so it's pointless to follow that thread of thought. If he wants to tag along in my search for trinkets then he's free to do so, regardless of the motivation that got here. Besides, he might not be the most obnoxious person in the place- once when you get over the genocidal streak, that is.
Chaldea functions in bursts of activity and while I'm not terribly bored during the downtime, I end up getting sick of standing around in my room. Getting tired of reading is certainly a rare event for me, but I suppose I'm still human. Even those so-called NEETs are known to occasionally start dragging their sebaceous asses off the dorito-covered chairs and into the outside world, in an infrequent ritual of shame and regret. That is hardly my case! I'm, technically, not even alive anymore so labels relating to my current lack of goals would annoy me very little. No to mention, I'm twelve or something right? You can't expect a fragile body like this to be put to work, in the modern civilized era.
What I'm looking for is really just something intriguing. The warehouse has crates and crates of supplies that no one knows about, things that aren't listed in any inventory and that could shock and disgust any virtuous individual. Or so the legends go. I guess that's what happens when you lock megalomaniac elites in the Russian no-wheres. I'm more surprised there isn't an officially-sanctioned brothel hosted here in Chaldea! An establishment filled with the finest whores that would delegate themselves to this desolate hell; though after some consideration, it's not completely unlikely we might find one of those fine-ladies stashed inside one of the "Special Deliveries" Crates. Isn't Russia the land of mail-order brides?
"I might have overestimated how interesting this place was"- I say while shaking one of the smaller packages lined up along a shelf . Ripping it open, I find a small box of chocolates which I promptly pry open and begin ingesting. Or not. These are fucking terrible, urgh. Yuck. Must wafsh mofuth ajkjekwfdks.
"Who would order Shitty chocolate under 'Special Requests'!? Urg, have you found something decent?"
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Post by genghis on Mar 26, 2016 1:47:00 GMT
Since his summoning to the modern world, Genghis had worked tirelessly for Chaldea's noble goal. After all, despite what people thought of him and what the world thought of him, he was a man who deeply loved humanity and to fight for the sake of its survival was among the highest motivators one could give the Conqueror to retake his bow and to use his the foul powers of that had taken root on his legend it would be this goal.
There weren't many however's or buts when it came to working for Chaldea and the many Heroic Spirits it had summoned or the Masters it recruited. Yet among the many wonderful people he met, one stuck out like a sore thumb that the Conqueror couldn't help but leave alone.
They had met over a casual lunch break on the cafeteria. Their conversation struck some cords on him, the Scribe on the Guise of a child. The writer Andersen and a rare lone soul who had Genghis met in life would have had no second doubts on making him part of his routine and one of his courtiers.
With no other reason than what could be described as hanging out with someone he saw as a friend, Genghis followed the self centered Caster to the warehouses of Chaldea. Being no stranger to misdeeds, Temujin with his casual gait looked around the trial Hans left behind and he rummaged around a crate or two, for pure curiosity.
"Well, I did find this... hat." The conqueror said, lifting and trying out a black fedora. He moved closer and took one of the chocolates "They can't be all that terrible?" He said, popping one on his mouth and chewing. The explosion of flavor and bitterness was not something Genghis had experienced before.
"What do you mean it's horrible?" Genghis asked, honestly baffled how his friend could call something like that foul tasting. But then again, Genghis was exactly the type of person who would not find any food distasteful, or any effort on any product regrettable. He took another one and ate it. "Where do these things come from? Certainly not on any place on Asia or Europe that I journeyed through."
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Post by Gráinne on Mar 26, 2016 2:30:06 GMT
Grey eyes scanned the area as Grainne Ni Conghaile approached the supply warehouse, a book clutched close to her chest. She didn’t understand why she felt somewhat nervous, she was here for a good reason after all. Supposedly an old friend from the Mage’s Association had sent something to her a small something for her birthday a week or two ago and if she knew said friend then it would have been something perishable. And by something perishable she meant something that would pass for a moment on the lips and stay forever on the hips, something truly fattening. Oh yes, she was looking forward to unpackaging that and devouring it completely.
Alas her plans of devouring her chocolate then and there had been dashed at the sight of two others in the space she had been planning on occupying. Ugh! The Irishwoman could have groaned out loud, but that would have made her annoyance known and she’d spent her whole life not letting anyone know had frustrated she could be with most situations being a magus presented to her. Instead she focused on the two who dared to (probably accidentally) disrupt her plans.
From the back all she could see was a little boy and a red headed figure (who she could only assume was the little boy’s mother or something), she squinted for a moment as if to get a better look but quickly gave up. No point in hanging around forever after all. Besides it was just a little boy and a chick right? Shrugging and stuffing her hands into her pockets, the magus continued on her merry way.
As she moved closer two things became evident; that this little boy (if his voice was anything to go by) had one hell of a problem with puberty and that the woman was no woman at all, but a fedora toting man. Well, that had been damn unexpected.
“Looking for something in particular?” Grainne piped up, although it was less due to a genuine curiosity and more because she was sure her chances of finding the delicious, fattening treat would triple if they were all ‘helping each other’ or whatever. “There’s so many crates and all, it’d probably be hard to find what you want in all of this.” Unless gingers wearing fedoras was 'in' now, not that she could ever imagine either of those two things ever being 'in'. But what did she know? She was nearly thirty and lacked a general fashion sense to begin with.
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