[The following roleplay is rated mature for reasons that may include but are not limited to strong language, sexual (inexplicit) themes, violence, and mild drug and alcohol use. Reader discretion is advised.]
As a girl, when Mags had found herself in this cursed place, the panic settled in near immediately. It always started in her throat, coiling inside her airway and choking her breaths. Then it would snake down to her stomach, pitting nausea sputtering against her insides. Her breaths would grow heavy, and before she knew it, she was hyperventilating, blushes meeting the embarrassment spelt over her face. Now, at twenty-six, her body rarely reacted so violently. Perhaps she had grown out of her panic attacks, or maybe she was just too desensitized to it all. Regardless, she knew these trips would not stop until she succeeded, so she silently accepted her surroundings.
She reached out a hand in front of her. The smog was thick enough to seep through her threadbare gloves, palpable in her palm. It veiled the city, and for that, she was grateful. The corpses piled against the border walls only suggested worse from within. Had those bodies been Undead? Or people? Feeling a familiar sickness in her throat, she closed her eyes. She did not want to know.
By now, she knew the routine. She stood silently as the infected air pelted the exposed skin of her cheeks. Wasn’t this taking longer than usual? The hairs on her arms stood up; bugs crawled up her legs. Then, the air cleared, the itching stopped, and a woman appeared before her. Rays of sunlight radiated from her smiling face, warming an otherwise lightless world. Mags bowed her head to her goddess, thankful that this curse would temporarily end soon. Finally, the brilliant leader of the Divine Dragons was here to guide her.
Naga approached Mags and with gentle hands brought her gaze to her. She was wordless, but her expression said all the things Mags had never heard any human say to her. You are safe here, her bright eyes beamed. You are loved here, her smile encouraged. You can do this. The goddess leaned over Mags, and locks of her green hair fell over Mags’s clothes, leaving a sweet pea aroma where they touched. Naga’s voice, smooth as honey, whispered into her ear, warm, welcoming, delivering a new name.
~~~
Mags’s eyes fluttered open, blinking in the world around her. Sweat fell down her cold skin, and a chill ran down her spine. Where… was she? The sun was just starting its climb over the horizon, and the trees were whistling loudly in the harsh winds. Her blanket had been kicked a distance away from her sleeping spot on the grass, and as the chilly autumn air blew through her lavender locks, she shivered and grabbed for it. But there was no time to go back to bed, even if the sun wasn’t awake yet. Her new mission was clear, and she needed to get moving.
She shoved her blanket into her bag and threw it over her shoulder. The backpack likely weighed more than she did, but she showed no outward sign of struggle in carrying it. It housed her entire life; as a nomad, she had nowhere else to store her scarce belongings. The grass she’d slept on had made a more comfortable bed than she had most nights, but the ache from sleeping on stone the night before still haunted her bones. Shaking her pain, she pulled her hood tighter around her tiny body and started walking towards the nearest town. She needed to contact her companion and tell him about their new target. Perhaps afterwards they could move somewhere warmer, somewhere where she wouldn’t freeze to death. Damn she hated the cold.
The town was only beginning to welcome the day. Few people wandered the cobblestone streets, some getting to work, others walking their dogs. The smell of the day’s array from the nearest bakery made her mouth water. She hadn’t been staying near this town for long, but she already felt she’d miss its people, its delicious smells. Her companion was likely still asleep, resting comfortably in one of the rooms of the town inn. That was fine by her; early morning and late night were the best times to find out more about her targets. She spent the morning asking around about her new name, gathering whatever information she could, and when the sun was hanging high in the sky, she thought she had enough information to recruit her companion.
He was a mage from the future, a place not unlike the one she frequented in her visions. In his journey here, he had forgotten details about his own life and mission, even his own name. Mags had been calling him various things over the course of their relationship. Though she used lighthearted insulting nicknames most, she had also taken to calling him Jorah, for reasons she refused to disclose to him. When she had first seen him, clumsily fighting a pack of Undead, in over his head, Mags knew there was something about him. She trusted him, perhaps too easily. At any rate, he was opposed to working with Lucina and the rest of the Shepherds, so he couldn’t have been too bad. And he did make these goddess-given missions a lot more bearable.
When she did find him, he was eating lunch. She approached him and plucked a leaf from his plate, greeted him with a smile. “I’ve got a new task for you!” she announced, a hello. “Thank gods. I’m already tired of this cold. I think I’d go anywhere that wasn’t Regna Ferox right now.” She took a seat beside him and chewed on her stolen food. As she did, she glanced over him. Why was there always something about this man that made Mags want to talk with him? They were just business partners, but in a different life, might they have been more? She turned away, brushing the bangs from her pale eyes. “We’re heading south,” she continued. “Our target is just a petty thief, but maybe he’ll have a heavy purse to loot. You up for it?
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