[RP] Dalmaska

[Valkyrur]

"In the lands of Easn lay a castle so magnificent that from afar, it seems like a fort of heaven. The grasslands around it are so green that it seemed surreal. The lakes and hills around are so picturesque that it is impossible to not be awed by them.

This is Dalmaska, a dream city and a city of dreams.

You are a citizen of this bizarrely marvelous city, and you are not happy at all.

Why?

At the head of the political hierarchy is a tyrant. This is one tyrant unrivaled in terms of tyranny. He rules over Dalmaska and he rules over you.

You are not happy – at all."

Picking up his face towel, Basil smiled as he wiped his face. This was a sort of ritual he would conduct every morning, reminding himself about his role, and his vision. As he stared at the person in the mirror, he would remind that person about the true goal of the Resistance, and ultimately, his convictions.

"Basil! Breakfast's ready!"

"Aye! I got it," said Basil as he hurriedly put the face towel back on the sink and rushed down to the dining room. His was a relatively large house - with three levels excluding the attic. As the attic serves as a sort of 'storeroom', the extra space was designated rather loosely.

His parents take the entirety of the third level. It had a living room in it, and even an area with so many shelves it seemed like a library. Basil himself had the luxury of having the entire of the second level. Like his parents though, he made a portion of his room beside the stairs into a library of sorts, with a computer sitting facing away from the window.

The first level was where the family would welcome the guests. It had a main living room, the dining room and the kitchen. Although sparsely furnished, it was somehow decorated in such a fashion one may think it was an intentional minimalist theme.

Only it's inhabitants know otherwise.

"Fried eggs, fried eggs... Gotta get them all fried eggs..."

Chuckling as Basil watched his mother hum a tune as she placed the fried eggs on both his own plate and his father's.

"Gonna be fresh and go down there, yes?"

Basil nodded. This was a day when the Resistance would gather to discuss yet another of their plans to oust the tyrant of Dalmaska. It wasn't an easy path, but it was one they had tread upon for years. It was far too late to give up.

"Fresh."

Reiterating this word, which was really a coded 'yes', Basil quickly finished his breakfast.

"And well, see you later."

He glanced over to see his mother smile serenely, and his father, who looked up momentarily to meet his gaze. A determined grin plastered on his face, Basil turned and left, starting yet another day.

 

[Tipsynaruto]

Anarchia. Anarchia. Annnaaarrrrchiiiiiaaaaaaa!!!! WAKE UP!

The teal haired girl cracked a single eyelid open and glanced at the young white haired teen that stood by her bed. Unlike the lower ranks, as CO, Anarchia Illyavich Vesperia - Sevensheep has her own private house and facilities. Right now, said abode has been invaded by Iglesias, her senior NCO and her cousin.

It is past the time everyone should be up. All the soldiers are out running through their training regimes.

I would have thought that seeing that i am the highest ranking officer in this outfit, i can wake as i please. Apparently not.

The covers came off and the lithe girl slipped out of her pajamas and went through her morning rituals, with Iglesias waiting at her hand. It was unusual for a NCO to do this, but Iglesias was special.

Anything new today?

No ma'am. Bleak as ever in every corner.

Mm.

Paper in hand, the plate of food quickly dwindled and the paper tossed casually into the bin. Iglesias was right. There was little news to be of interest. Anything negative was squashed like a bug. If they wanted REAL news, it was best to go via gossip and illegal information brokers. Steeping out into the open, Anarchia marched towards the training field, helicopters roared over head and the rhythmic thumping of in sync jogging military boots resounded in the air.

Something will be done about it. I just can't stand dry and mundane news.

If you want Ma'am.

The duo cut across the field, towards the Nordwind Kampfer Fallschirmjager. Today was just another day.

 

[Valkyrur]

[OOC: Don't forget this day and age is quite modern eh? Feel free to innovate any device that seems convenient. That, and feel free to innovate the coded message. God-mod my character's response to finish it up.]

Basil was soon in the Resistance's hideout in Troika, despite having maneuvered about an intricately designed route made to shake off any possible pursuers. No doubt, having had years of experience walking down this path, Basil's speed in traversing the said route was almost as direct as walking down any ordinary straight route.

Entering the building, he laughed out loud.

The people in it, particularly the man behind the counter eyed him warily.

"You guys look so dumb it'll make me cry."

"Um. The door's right behind you."

"No, there's a door in front as well."

Gesturing to the door right behind the man, Basil moved forward so that he was right in front of the man, and out of earshot of all else in the room.

"The wolf prowls, even in the day."

Shrugging, the man proceeded to ask,"How much then?"

"Well, ask the Tyrant."

With that, the man smiled.

"Good morning, Spice."

"Good morning, Wedge."

'Wedge' wasn't even a real name - just a moniker. It fitted the need for a detailed coded message to ascertain their identities. In this day and age, imitating another's appearance was top notch. Once it was done, the only way to identify the person was through personality.

Yet to counter this fact, identity thieves usually study the person's personality to such great detail that it was almost impossible to know by that as well.

Hence the need of this coded message.

Wedge, the man behind the counter, opened the door, bowing slightly as he directed Basil through it. Right within this building, at it's basement, was the core of the Resistance.

This was where plans were drawn out and discussed; this was where revolution would happen.

For now, Basil would need to assemble the top brass. Sitting at the head of the oval table, he whipped out his cell phone, and mass dialed his top leaders.

"Yet another day goes by with the sun above us - the scorching, unkindly sun."

 

[Tipsynaruto]

One..... One..... One..... One....... Come on Pertrowiski. Can't even do one? Move those muscles. What is the point of those arms if you can't even do one measly push up!

Of course, this wasn't really fair on Pertrowiski. Anarchia stood on his back. Now while she herself wasn't terribly heavy, the weight she had gathered in her hand via electromagnetic attraction was. Pertrowiski barely managed to hold the status quo of the weight.

Come on, Pertrowiski. Does it look like i have all day?

Riding crop tucked under her arm, Anarchia continued to taunt when Iglesias came next to her with a mobile in hand.

Phone Ma'am

You're in luck Pertrowiski. Sergeant Major Vespertania has seen fit to distract me that you get to get off easy. Rest of you, wipe that smirk off your face. 20 more times around the obstacle course in Alpha Gamma rotation. Pertrowiski. You get 25 on Alpha Epsilon rotation. MOVE!

Cringes appeared on every single face in the company, none more in pain than Pertrowiski. Anarchia walked over to Iglesias

Anarchia Iglesias. Just Anarchia. Who is it?

Seems to be from your "locksmith". Seems like the "Wedge" isn't working anymore to keep the door shut at your renting house. We need to go visit a locksmith or think something new in order to keep THAT tenant happy.

Ha..... Tell the locksmith that im busy and that he'd have to deal with it himself...

That or i can total your house. How bout it?

Tch. He heard.

Snatching the phone from Iglesias' hand, she promptly snapped it shut, cutting the line.

Well?

Nothing to it. I spent a fortune on that house.

Anarchia snapped her finger and Iglesias brought over her black military coat before she made her way to the roadside. The moment she stepped to the curb, Iglesias' car pulled over and an orderly stepped out. Both girl's stepped in and the car shot off out the military base

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The phone code was an odd one. It didnt even really reflect what Anarchia and Basil were trying to do. After all, a locksmith ensured that a house is protected with locks, but in a way, it might work as well in another perspective. Whatever the case, it worked. And if the ambiguity of it even confused herself sometimes, then most likely itll throw the trackers off. By now, Anarchia had once more abandoned her coat and had reversed all her insignias, meaning the collar ones faced down onto her shirt. Her guns didn't really matter, even her large mausers. Iglesias herself has dropped off he WA2000 and her P90. It was inconspicuous as she was willing to go. After all, teal hair and her status was hard to cover. The only reason she has yet to be implicated with rebelling was that she and Basil was so good in covering their tracks that she doesn't really have to worry about covering her identity

It wasn't long before the car screeched to a halt in front of the store. Like always, as she got out of the car, the pedestrians who were gawking at the vehicle turned their attention and gawked at Anarchia. Every step she took, they took one back. It was the usual. The duo entered the door, making a bee line straight for the counter.

"The damn wedge isn't working. I need something better"

The man blinked in confusion before he proceeded to ask,"Uh... what? Oh yea. Um... well, how about a security chain?"

Several people were glancing over in their direction. Before Anarchia continued, she turned and returned their glances with a glare. Needless to say, balls shriveled. Satisfied, she returned back to the man

"Don't care. I hate the current tenant. I want them out ASAP, so give me something cheap"

With a forced smile the man tried to relax.

"Well, you'll find what you need in the back, Hearts, Wing"

Whatever Spice.

Truth be told, it was difficult for people to replicate battle auras such as Anarchia's unless they went through similar experience on the battlefield. However, procedures were procedures. Anarchia and Iglesias walked down the corridor through the door before opening into the room down the end.

Right. So? What is the latest?

Anarchia pulled out a chair and sank into it, her hands clasped in front and resting on the table. The others in the room was definitely uncomfortable. One did not climb all the way to the to the top to go and rebel. Not those like Anarchia. As to why she was even helping was an enigma, but here she was.