(Story Mission: 1) The Missing Links: Reunion (Private)

People who do not attend Beacon Academy live here. Resident to both Humans and Faunus alike. Those that reside here live quiet lives of everyday labor, hard working, and casual lifestyles.
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Clyde Lynx/'Muzzle'
4th Semester
Posts: 358
Joined: Wed Oct 29, 2014
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Weapon: None.
Semblance: True Hunter

(Story Mission: 1) The Missing Links: Reunion (Private)

Post by Clyde Lynx/'Muzzle' » Fri Feb 16, 2018

It was meant to be one of the safest days for the city of Vale. In a time where the climate deterred those from committing heinous deeds upon the citizen, the brightly shining orb in the sky dictated that this day would bring about peace, inviting the residents to spend such a beautiful day in its bountiful glow.

The commercial district bore enough goods and sales to catch the pockets full of Lien that jingled ever so quietly. Fruits and vegetables, from local farms to exotic lands from kingdoms far from the continent of Sanus, all sit on displays for retail stores, market stalls, and vendors stationed in buildings or along the sidewalks for pedestrians to gander at and ponder their choice. Clothing stores offer brand names or original styles from the designers, tailored with fabrics of varying quality and prices, offering attires to satisfy a person’s tastes. Coffee roasteries, restaurants of differing cultures, bars and clubs with contrasting ranks of society, from the grimiest of vagabonds and ne’er-do-wells, to the small percentage with cash to spend on VIP or exclusive rooms to avoid the common folk, day in and day out, the populace breathed life in and out of the places for food, drinks, and merriment; although, bars would not see as much life during the day, unlike their nightly hours. Recent immigrants and tourists on this side of town would be awe-struck and astounded at such aura of diversity and union, while the residents can only see it as the norm. But no matter who you speak to, it was as alive as the living beings that inhabited it, and it would not slow down until the witching hour.

But, now was not the witching hour. The sun had finally reached high in the air, the colors of the world crystal clear to the eyes. At least, that would be how some would see it. To one of the dots in the sea of people, it was merely annoying, needing a hand to block the blinding rays of light. Colors danced in Clyde’s eyes before he could blink them away, still pressing on with the crowd as they moved along the sidewalk. Even as tall as he was, there was plenty of space around him, easing his usual discomfort that came with these commutes through the district. This city was safer than most, but it still didn’t mean that he was okay with such large groups. So was the struggle of being in the city. It could never compare to the outside, the wide grasslands and the forests. Peace and quiet. Unlike this cacophony of noise. The sooner he had his hands on the groceries the better.

A red hand flashed up on a traffic light pole across from the street he needed to cross, halting Clyde in the middle of the group. It would be about half a minute before it would be his time to cross, giving him ample time to pull out his scroll and open it; being the only form of modern technology he truly understood and gained control of, it had replaced many tools for him, including a notepad to write his list of groceries. Scrolling past the contacts, the call button, texts that he never sent, and a multitude of other meaningless apps, he finally reached the digital notepad that held the “page” he wrote his lists in, tapping until he reached his most recent page. A quick glance up before he moved. Not ready yet. Three apples, seven oranges, four pears, three carrots, and plenty of brown rice. A quick glance up before he moved. The 15-second timer has started. Pencils, a new notebook, fresh bread, canned meats, dried fruit, jerky. A quick glance up before he moved. A stifled breath left him, and Clyde’s entire body froze in place. Only an instant. It was all that was needed to bring him to a halt.

A navy-blue dress with an apparent white apron wrapped around the front, tied together with a green ribbon in the center. The sleeves of the dress were puffed and had white cuffs, the skirt of the flowing dress was dirtied with scraping along the ground, lightly torn and bits of fabric loosened. Her shoes were dark brown boots, made for walking over uneven grounds and dirt. Lightly darker and tanned skin, from that of a person who has welcomed the sun’s warmth, and healthy black hair cut at the length of the neck with blunt and even bangs in the front. Crystal green eyes, like emerald against marble, stared off into the distance, the girl’s attention far from the man that watched her as if she was here to haunt him. The woman stood on the other end of the street, a woven basket in hand filled with a few loafs of bread and fruit. She, too, was waiting to cross the street, but not in the direction of Clyde; she would begin walking to his left side, towards the residential district. Her name was Anneliese.

The scroll nearly slipped from the weak and limp grasp, merely staying in place by the friction of the gauze surrounding the hand. The fighter’s body was frozen in time, only motion coming from the wind blowing the outside of his jacket and pants. A couple of confused pedestrians passed by, eyebrows raised at the beady crimson eyes and slightly dropped jaw, lips slightly parted. He appeared as if he had seen a phantom, and indeed he has. The red hand faded and was replaced with a stickman walking, the crowd surrounding the taller man moving along and leaving him. There was only a thought that flashed and grew louder in his mind: Why? Blinking, he stopped to see that he stood alone and took a moment to relax the tightened muscles to quickly walk, eyes refusing to break from the girl who walked as well. If it weren’t for the people around him, he would have been sprinting at her, but he knew that he would be stopped if he attempted so. This was not the time to be seen. The groceries were far from his mind. His quicker steps allowed him to reach the other street in time, keeping himself meters away from the black-haired woman. He knew her just by her looks; it was as if her clothes grew with her, she always wore it when she worked, and her eyes, with so much melancholy, were fitting with the slow and soft steps she took when she walked, the length of her dress making her appear as if she floated from the ground. Questions washed over his reasoning, and as he began to push people to the side for him to keep moving, he gave no thought to the aggravated sneers and slightly startled eyes that followed him. Too many people around, he couldn’t speak to her in this environment. But, no matter how long he needed to walk, even if he would need to hide in the background by dipping into the buildings to hide, he would not be stopped, and he will follow her until it would just be the two. The sun seemed less bright this day.

A walk that nearly lasted half an hour finally lead the patient stalker to the residential district, where many would be either out into the city, or inside to alienate themselves for their privacy. The sounds of dogs barking, children screaming with glee, all were beginning to grow quieter and more distant, until the duo reached to a nearby park. Named after a heroic soldier in the Great War, Reseda Park was a recent installment between two apartment complexes and two streets, plots of land cleared for equipment to be placed for children, few benches already in place, and several ash trees around the outside.

Clyde and Anneliese were the only occupants. After looking at the empty and dark windows of the apartments, the taller man stopped as he watched the girl continue to walk along the sidewalk. Since the past five minutes, the girl in the dress had noticed that she had been followed, and he knew that she realized it. By the time the girl had stopped, they were the same distance away as they were when Clyde had found her, both silent as they stood for a few solid seconds. A minute of this felt like forever for the two. The shiver in her shoulders was visible to him; the man had no doubt that she would have feared him, especially if she knew who he was. Before he could open his mouth to speak, her soft and airy voice broke the moment, the soft stutters in her voice and occasional break only assuring the student of her identity. “By any chance… w-w-would you happen t… to be… C-Clyde?” Where her voice was small, his was smoky but much more audible. “Why? Are you going to scream and run, like last time?” Her body slowly turned to her side, facing the street as she turned her head to look him in the eyes. He almost couldn’t look back; those fearful eyes… “I’ve run from you for six years now. Now… I have to find you.”

His body moved on his own, and soon he was merely a couple inches away, eyes locking down. What he could see was weakness, frailty and cowardice, beady and unsteady eyes unsure where to look at him, his face paler and her body shrunk away. What she saw was a beast, a spirit of anger, frustration, and restrained violence, a taller body hovering over her, curled over and muscles ready to pounce, fists clenched and a snarl so tight that she believed his skin would rip. ”You were supposed to protect him. You LEFT HIM. IN A BOX. You thought that would protect him? It didn't! And then I saw you RUN!” She couldn’t speak, the uneasy breathing taking her tongue, and any word that she tried to force out only came out in weak noises, caught in her throat. “I trusted you. You trusted me. I THOUGHT you trusted me.” He could snap at her at any second. The girl did not feel safe in front of this monster. She was ready to run, foot shifting back and ready to sprint. But then, she slowly stood up, the fear slowly melting into disbelief, as if she saw an enemy turn into a sudden ally. She was not the one who cried.

When she stood in front of him, she did not see Clyde Lynx. She had seen the person who kept her from sleeping, the person that everyone had warned about and advised to keep away, who took her trust and twisted it. She never hated him, but she was scared for her life just thinking about his face, and the memories that came with. She came here to see that person again. But she couldn’t see that anymore. All she saw was teeth clenched and lips curled back, but the fire in the eyes drenched by wetness, the tears in the corner of his eyes forming. She stood up straight, cautious and guarded, but watching and studying. His words were hushed. “You were supposed to be my friend.” He took a deep breath and turned to look towards the street, eyes glued on the ground. "But I can't fault you. I understand that you can't trust me." Was he going to get mad again? Was he going to hit her?
"Clyde... I-I want to be your friend. I always h... have. B-But you... you need to help me. I needed to run. I didn't know what to d-do, I-I-I was so scared... And Marlo... You were there when Ma-" His head turned back, the tears in his eyes gone and blinked away. His voice, however, was still unsteady. “Anne. I want you to listen to me. Again. I want you to believe me, and every word that comes out from my mouth. It’s been six years, and I know you hated me ever since then. But I want you to look at me in the eyes this time, and listen completely, and understand that I never lie to you. And I promise… if you still think that I am lying, then I will go back, and turn myself in.” The desperation in his voice was harder at the last sentence. This is Clyde Lynx. The look of disbelief soon mixed with fear on Anneliese's expression, bracing for what he had to say, each word coming out slowly. “I swear on my grave… I did not do i-“ His body shot towards the road, splinters of wood flying around, forcing a yelp out of the girl as she shielded her face with an arm, leaping back as she tried to regroup herself. “Murderer! Murderer!” Two young voices called out.

His aura was the only thing that had saved him from the wooden spike, Clyde’s side covered with wood shavings as he laid on his uninjured side, the wind knocked out from him as he gasped a couple times, eyes bugged out as he held his injured area. The horror returned into Anneliese’s face as she turned to the culprit of the attack. Or… culprits. Wearing nothing but blue overalls, white shirts with unbuttoned tops, and brown hiking boots, two teenage boys, both with fiery red hair that touched their shoulders in wild fashions, both mirrored each other, a hand on their hip and unfriendly smiles on their face. “Ey Co, are ‘ya sure this’s the guy? He looks purdy… harmless.” The left twin spoke while the right twin turned to him, his grin widening in reassurance. “Sure looks like it, Bos! Down to the boots, he looks jus’ like what pa said!” Anneliese was close to running to Clyde and check on him, but as the assaulted student began to slowly push himself up on his hands and knees to cough for air, she stopped in her place and stepped away, the figure moving towards Clyde shading the light from his face and his footsteps clapping soundly on the asphalt. The voice that boomed out was valiant and hearty, and no malice in his voice. “Ay, it sure be him, boys! Still weakly as th’ day we chased ‘im out.” Lifting his head up slowly, it was Clyde’s turn to have his face grow pale, eyes shrinking as he barely spoke the name out. “Trynk…” A tower of a man, body toned and muscled from living the life of a lumberjack, he wore the same attire as his son, but unlike the two, he was armed; in his right hand, a one-headed wood ax rested on his shoulders, the blade larger and more curved, as if it was meant for both trees and those that stood in its way. “Killer of Middlemist. Clyde Lynx. You are going to pay with your blood, for my nephew.” And with that, he raised the ax, and swung down with all his force.

The skirmish lasted for minutes, but the park had experienced war. All in honor of Reseda. The few trees that stood were only half of what they were, three fallen over and snapped at the trunk. The grass was torn up by the force of feet and bodies scraping and turning up the dirt, or small holes being pulled up and tossed about by desperate hands clawing for escape. As he laid with his aura flickering and buzzing, Clyde had plenty of time to realize how much of a fool he had been to follow her to such an open area. It was evident that she wouldn’t have gone alone, and someone would come to find her in this district. The questions returned; How long have they been here? How has he never seen them? What was stopping them from attacking him before? Back on his hands and knees, his sore body sweated with the stress and exertion he had put himself through, forehead pressed into the ground as the world kept spinning, fists clenched and pushed to the ground. He panted heavily, his breath ragged and hard to catch. The tear in the sleeve of his jacket had widened, the gauze on his hands barely hanging onto them as it had torn from the beatings. It was very clear to anyone who was a witness to this that he was losing. And if he did not get up right now, then he would never have to worry about losing again; he'd be a dead man walking, once again. He looked up at the man with a final desperate stare, harshly growling the words out. "Trynk... I swear to you... I did not kill Marlo. I swear to you! I'm innocent!" The more he spoke, the harsher and more raspy Clyde's broken voice became. With a moment of bravado, Clyde attempted to push himself up on his feet, but the pain in his knee shocked him to the core, forcing him to shout in pain before falling forward again, on the balls of his feet and keeping himself up with his less injured arm. He could barely move, and his aura was struggling to heal the damage. This was too much for only him. "Why won't any of you listen to me?!"

As for the father and sons, they did not break a sweat, standing yards away and staring at their fallen foe. Trynk, the lumberjack, had the head of his ax pressed to the ground, hands on top of each other as he balanced it up, staring at Clyde as if he was merely part of the scenic park. The twins, both standing next to each other, dusted themselves off in a goofy manner, rubbing their own hands together in perfect sync. “Geez, pa. It’s real hard ta believe this guy could’a killed an’body. Weakest lil' thing I ever had t' fight.” The tower of a man leaned towards his son to speak softly. “Don’t think this t’ be over, boy. We gotta take him in alive. An’ he ain’t down yet. Still got them tricks up 'is sleeve.”

To anyone who could see, this was an attack on a single person, whom was already at a rough disposition and facing an uphill battle. People who had looked through the windows and called the police knew neither of the people below, not even the group that had lived near their area for who-knows-how-long. Anneliese was nowhere to be seen, hidden from her allies and her enemy. No matter who was in the right, who was in the wrong, or who will come out as the winner, this was an insult on what was to be one of the safest days in Vale. The people only hoped that this would end soon.

(Story Mission: 1) The Missing Links: Reunion (Private)

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Laurel Wayfarer
4th Semester
Posts: 486
Joined: Fri Aug 05, 2016
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Weapon: Clara Transitu
Semblance: Asomatous

Re: (Story Mission: 1) The Missing Links: Reunion (Private)

Post by Laurel Wayfarer » Sat Feb 17, 2018

Another lovely day in Vale lifted her spirits, the twitching corners of her mouth lifting upwards. With the sky blue and dotted with fluffy clouds, it lay draped above her in such a picturesque scene that paired with the radiant sun any melancholy thoughts were carried away on the breeze that ruffled loose moss-green strands. Initially, her reasoning for coming out to the shopping district had been to look around at was available for upkeep of her weapon as it had been some time since she replenished her tools. Upkeep was important for ensuring Clara Transitu was well maintained and she figured the best way to do so would be to bring her along. It did cause people to give her a wide berth, the pair of swords currently fastened to her waist, along with some skeptical looks. At least, that had been her intention until the beautiful weather caught her in its spell.

Her tendency to wander anywhere and everywhere had distracted her from her purpose in Commercial District. There hadn’t been too many days like this, clouds heavy with the promise of snow often lurking above, and given the amount of people out and about she believed they agreed with her. Who wouldn’t want to take advantage of the brightly shining sun, warming olive-tan skin as she gazed upwards, while they could? Spring would be coming soon, but there was no guarantee that there would be another day such as this one. So here she was, grinning like a fool, while she skipped down the sidewalk and weaved between the people of the crowd in an intricate dance that only she could hear the music accompaniment for. A few people cast her odd looks as she stood on tiptoe and spun before continuing on with her walk that had became less walking and more dancing as she continued. Whatever had gotten into her this day, she didn’t pause to question it. Why not enjoy this moment for what it was?

Laurel began to hum along with the song that occupied her thoughts. The tone of lyrics was more grim than befitting this gorgeous day yet the pacing of the song was spirited and the energy with which her feet moved carried her much farther than she had meant to venture. The storefronts gradually shifted to more residential buildings as she hopped and skipped, listening to the tune playing inside her head. It wasn’t until she nearly ran into another person, having closed her eyes, and the gruff grunt that alerted her that her eyes shot open. “Oh! S-sorry!” The surprise had caused the unusual stutter in her voice and she stepped aside to allow the elder man to pass her. Broken from the trance that had held her rapt, the trickster glanced around and gold widened as she realized this was an unfamiliar area. “Gotta be the residential district. I haven’t been around here much so might as well get a look around!” The prospect of a new experience re-energized her as her humming resumed and her skipping picked up again. There were significantly less people around which she attributed to the time of day. Many people were preoccupied with shopping and meeting friends so it only made sense that they would have left this area. Undeterred, she grinned and began to take in the newly developed apartments and houses that lined the streets.

Her walk was pleasant and quiet, taking in the scenery, when she spotted what appeared to be a green plot squished in between two buildings to break up the concrete and steel jungle. Always a fan of flora and fauna, her walk turned into a speedy one. The wilds of Vale had been her home in some respects though the temple and nearby town had been safe enough from the dangers that lurked in the forests and on the roads. She entered the park, glancing around to take in familial inspired surroundings, while contemplating whether there would be swings...until she heard someone cry out. That voice…! Her feet lifted and she ran as if she were wind incarnate. She slid through trees and brushes, following the path into the park, and came upon a sight that stopped her in her tracks. Laurel had arrived as the voice called out their innocence, revealing the source to be Clyde. It was wholly apparent that he had taken a beating and the trio of men standing a ways off from him were as calm and composed. With no one else in sight and her friend calling out once more, frustration and desperate pleading left her wincing at the cold manner in which the large man and two boys looked on. Luckily, her current vantage point within the treeline kept her hidden from the four. A spark of hot rage ignited at the scene as her fists clenched at her sides. Who were these people?! The sight before her sent her back to a time long before she had come to Beacon, her eyes closed as she bit her lip before slowly opening. This looks really bad... I don't know who they are, but I've gotta do something!

As easily as if she were passing through a curtain of water, Laurel stepped through the tree that hide her and faded from view only leaving behind a faint shimmer of aurelian from her aura.
Start
Laurel
Melee: 13 [65 Damage]
Range: 7 [21 Damage]
Accuracy: 12
Speed: 11 [11/11 Dodge]
Defense: 8 [32/32 Block]
Aura: 9 [9/9]
Dust: 6 [6/6] [24 Damage]
HP: 240/240
Reaction
Nothing happens.
Action
Laurel uses Stealth and cannot be seen by enemies and cannot attack this round. She will no longer be in stealth if hit by an Area of Effect attack. Cost is 1 Aura (8/9).
End
Laurel
Melee: 13 [65 Damage]
Range:7 [21 Damage]
Accuracy: 12
Speed: 11 [11/11 Dodge]
Defense: 8 [32/32 Block]
Aura: 9 [8/9]
Dust: 6 [6/6] [24 Damage]
HP: 240/240
"Spare a thought for the origin of your adversaries, whomever or whatever they are." #FF3366
Staring never hurt anyone~ #FFDDF4
♪ ♫Signature Song: Fighter♪ ♫
♪ ♫Battle Theme: Warrior Concerto♪ ♫
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Ryujin Nagato
2nd Semester
Posts: 111
Joined: Thu Oct 30, 2014
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Race: Faunus
Weapon: Baransu
Semblance: Dragon's Breath

Re: (Story Mission: 1) The Missing Links: Reunion (Private)

Post by Ryujin Nagato » Thu May 17, 2018

Here he sat, in a chair, in a diner, on a day that would for the most part be referred to as nice. A great day to be outside with the family, to enjoy a picnic, or even a long jog around the city. He certainly contemplated the jog for after his meal was finished. A grilled cheese sandwich and a nice cup of orange juice was to be the addition to his stomach henceforth. He took a satisfying bite out of the sandwich, holding a hand over his mouth as crumbs danced their way toward the plate and table from the encounter. The cheese melted in his mouth, causing him to smile. Incidentally, more crumbs made their way down at the movement. This was followed more swiftly by a napkin to clean his face, then a small sip of the orange juice. It would be a lie to say he didn't enjoy the meal so far.

It wasn't much longer until he finished his meal, then promptly paid for it. When he stood up he made certain not to slam his head against the light so promptly placed above the table and made his way towards the door. He had a few thoughts, a few ideas, pop into his head in that instance. Mostly, how he was going to catch up in his classes. He'd made a good effort so far, but coming back after so long...Well, it came with plenty of complications. Least of which was keeping up with everything all at once. While a sigh left his lips at the thought, it didn't diminish his mood as he made his way down the street.

He had begun to organize his days on a calendar, something inspired by another student he spoke with in the past. It made his life a little easier to plan for events before they occurred. Didn't leave him scrambling like his initial return. Today was a training day, tomorrow one for studying. It helped keep his life balanced, in a way. A positive change to the chaos that came before.

He looked up at the sky, not paying much attention to where he walked as he tried to spot a cloud in the sky. There were a few, but none caught his interest for too long. Perhaps he was hoping too much for a simple shape to distract his mind. He was supposed to train, yet his mind was much to restless to focus on that task. So much so that he didn't even walk in the direction of the training room he frequented. He continued walking, almost as if on autopilot, away from his destination. He wasn't sure why, he couldn't pin it down, nor recognize an issue. He closed his eyes as he took a breath deeper than the last, only to open them and stop walking for the moment. He had almost walked directly into the street, yet the red hand meant he would've probably made a fatal mistake. He succumbed to his patient nature and waited, a group of others standing near him, if not a bit further off. Others walked in different directions, the city was alive.

Then the light changed, he walked on. His path had completely divulged from his original track, yet he didn't mind too much. Perhaps all he was required to do now was relax. Rest somewhere to take his mind off of everything occurring. He began to observe his surroundings, before noticing a park not too far away. Perfect. Trees would be his minds ally in it's search to relax, he could sit underneath one and hum a tune of sorts. Or, perhaps, a session of meditation to relieve any negative thoughts? He couldn't decide just yet.

As he approached, he noticed something was seriously wrong. Mostly the destruction which made it's home there, partly the yells of innocence from a familiar, if more then ragged, voice. His eyes went wide at the sound and the scene before him and...He froze. For a few moments he stood there, staring. He felt a certain feeling in his chest, quickly spreading through his whole body. It wasn't fear, but perhaps adrenaline? A fight or flight instinct sent directly to his brain? Once more, his feet moved without needing to be commanded consciously. He ran towards the shouts and the source of what seemed to be a battle and eventually, he saw him. Clyde, an old friend and comrade of his. He saw him not too long ago, yet this new meeting wasn't going to be such a positive affair.

He approached from behind his friend, removing the helmet that hung from his hip and placing it upon his head. For once, he didn't feel bad that his everyday outfit was mostly just armour. "And who are all of you? Family? Certainly a strange bonding habit you've formed." He looked down at the three facing down Clyde, mostly examining them to see them in comparison to Clyde. It was obvious who was losing so far, and he doubted he could do much to change that right now. Perhaps today was going to end up as a training day? Destiny worked in strange ways.

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