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    Spring in Allegro ◆ Solo

    Oswald
    Oswald

    Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- Haiku Contest Participant- Character Application Approved!- Magic Application Approved!- Get A Pet!- Player 
    Lineage : Dragon Spirit
    Position : None
    Posts : 87
    Guild : Fairy Tail
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Mentor : Eliezer de Botelle
    Experience : 150

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Arc of Embodiment
    Second Magic: TBA
    Third Magic:

    Spring in Allegro ◆ Solo Empty Spring in Allegro ◆ Solo

    Post by Oswald on 15th December 2018, 8:52 am



    CAUSE I CAN FEEL THE RAIN
    WASH AWAY MY SINS. AND I CAN FEEL THE PAIN



    SEEPING OFF MY SKIN
    cause every single time i'm searching for a way i'm always lost and never found

    The Prunus serrulata, though more locally known to be the Japanese Cherry Blossom, is a commodity within the alchemical circle that is so dearly coveted by the scholars who endear themselves with potion brew, however not entirely without selfish reasons. Many of those who exercise the art are more inclined to complete their solutions with an incorporated liquid catalyst as a means of controlling the extremes of of any brewing - the chemical reactions, particularly, could be demonic almost if given leeway to run a frenzy. The more complicated a brew, the stronger a catalyst, and with the rise of demands for potions of the notorious kind came an insatiable hunger for the materials that provided the catalysts with their characteristic potency.

    In London, the alchemists of the locale suffered great deficiency in their potions whenever the long winters came, and hence their large favoring for preserved crocus as primary catalysts for their brews - though these were not as effective as the Spring blooms that were significantly more stable when processed into essences. The shortage of proper flowers was comparable to an epidemic for London's scholars, so there'd been flower shipments arriving in bulk from distant lands by the port almost everyday in order to salvage the brewing business and a few pockets.

    Of course, the men of the trade were capable enough to deliver a variety of flora to ease the community's demand regardless of the season, but this too, brought something undesired for the scholars such that competition rose and people were dying out of ill-fated greed. The day a galleon arrived with crates of cherry blossoms encased in glass would become London's prelude to a curse, for however fragile these petals were, they certainly made up for in their naturally occurring magic embed that made it one of the most powerful catalyst materials - a status that fueled the community to purchase boxes of the blossom in droves, creating a hunger that could no longer be satiated until competitors were incarcerated or left for dead.  

    Fortunately for him, the cherry petal fiasco was a dilemma before his becoming a Croll, and therefor in essence a time prior to his years as Roxanna's understudy. It'd dawned upon him when he'd heard of the tale that he might never experience the pseudo-miracles that were said to undertake in the beakers that fancied a faint pink glow, not since the circle's higher-ups banned all such substances with crimes involving heresy and murder.

    Needless to say, what the present reflects was a society much more tame and yet still fantastical - perhaps even more. The limits of his alchemical research changed once the circumstances of the game shifted and Oswald Croll was a now a foreigner in a strange, yet wonderful world. Earthland spawned many a great opportunity to further his studies, and alongside that was the possibility of refining his potions by a magnitude previously thought to be impossible. And for so long he tired of the work he put into building his home and apothecary, now the alchemist might actually realize a quarter of his goals.

    The sooner, the better.

    Though not all the perfect endeavors arose from menial work, as his teacher Roxanna would remind him, henceforth would Oz ready himself a journey to neighboring areas to further his compendium of ingredients with things both exotic and new, of bits and pieces that flourished underneath foreign suns, breathed different winds, and tasted ancient lands, left to be untouched by humanity. The thought provoked him so intensely that he'd managed to a plan the trip with a regard for timeslots and fully cycled routines. Such the itinerary was a schedule created with an intention to be followed. Nothing less of that. Still, it'd been his error to ignore the possible misgivings he'd encounter down the road less traveled. Not one of this scale, at least.

    Today, he and Padpardscha were due for a trip deep into isolation, as an assurance perhaps of the rarity of the material, and Oswald's personal method to avoiding the majority of the population and the very thought of interaction itself. Somehow along the way however was a break in the train track and because his Homebound Key couldn't fair its job without proper exploration of an area, they were both left to their lonesomes in a city flocked by tourists. Already the day seemed dangerously close to becoming one that he'd regret.

    "Honey, can we go see the Cherry Blossoms at the center of the town?"

    "...You do know that the square itself is closed because of that, right?"

    Or was it?
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    768/1500 words | Job Link | Job Approval



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    Spring in Allegro ◆ Solo OzSiggy
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    Oswald
    Oswald

    Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- Haiku Contest Participant- Character Application Approved!- Magic Application Approved!- Get A Pet!- Player 
    Lineage : Dragon Spirit
    Position : None
    Posts : 87
    Guild : Fairy Tail
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Mentor : Eliezer de Botelle
    Experience : 150

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Arc of Embodiment
    Second Magic: TBA
    Third Magic:

    Spring in Allegro ◆ Solo Empty Re: Spring in Allegro ◆ Solo

    Post by Oswald on 16th December 2018, 4:04 am



    CAUSE I CAN FEEL THE RAIN
    WASH AWAY MY SINS. AND I CAN FEEL THE PAIN



    SEEPING OFF MY SKIN
    cause every single time i'm searching for a way i'm always lost and never found

    Life may be a dismal subject matter for him, but the alchemist swore so strongly that never in this current cycle has he ever witnessed a scene as internally conflicting as a city dyed in petal pink. His conviction was a stubborn one yet his pride continued to waver like candlelight as he eyed the idling heaps of cherry blossom with a desperation so palpable that his combat assistant, Padparadscha bore him an expression that painted their growing concern in a deep alluring scarlet.

    A breath, and his assistant decides that the elephant in the room deserved even the mildest of attention. "...Sooo. I take it we're going to grab a few of these petals today, aren't we?"

    The sound of Padparadscha's nearly patronizing vibrato tilted his head toward them with unease, the emotion quickly filling his face to better hide the shock that briefly resurfaced there. "What? Of course not!" he said, "We...we ought to go...get new tickets, for um...that blasted train. Yes."

    "Oh, is that right~?"


    In an agreement withheld by all three of the Humunculi, all of them were required to observe in caution the way their master articulated his words - lest something is amiss. Oz was not likely to forget his regular speech conventions unless his thoughts were occupied with something that bothered him so. If either were to realize that circumstance, there'd be no withstanding the issue among them - prod, coax, and threaten. There was no shortage of strategies for the operation to have their pseudo-father bare them his heart, regardless if all they find are the most bitter things they'll come close to experiencing.

    Convinced that such a moment demanded at least one of the strategies, Padparadscha arcs a fine brow in his direction, failing to notice the tiny speckles of pink slowly incorporating itself into their hair. The gemstone eyes the object sitting idly in Oswald's palm, "If that's the case, I don't suppose you're going to shovel the stone pavement with that thing, right?" they asked, pleased with the indifference lacing their syllables.

    He stuttered then, visibly taken aback. "S-shovel? Oh good heavens!"

    The sound of heavy metal hitting stone assaults both pairs of ears as the alchemist loosens his grip on the thing at the behest of his compromised impulse. It clattered around noisily before jarring to a pause, leaving the thickly perfumed air with something heavier than the shovel. They'd glare at the object with an intensity, though the scarlet fire behind Padparadscha's eyes burned of something different entirely - a light where their master's amber yellow failed to compare.

    "Aha, you wanted some cherry petals didn't you Ozzie?" his assistant spoke, face gleaming with mirth and pale resin powder; it is a combo that he endears apprehensively.

    "A-anymore of that 'Ozzie' nonsense and you can consider those napping privileges goodbye!" he spat, "...And don't be daft, I've no interest in anything from the serrulata genus since there are plenty of that in Lon-"

    "Oh pish posh~ That's a loud of bull."

    "E-excuse me?!"

    Appearing more so spirited and jovial, the creature with the red hair toys around his attempts at salvaging graces with a snicker here and giggle there, their arms arcing towards moonlight until they settle atop the shovel, the item swinging to the rhythm of a single revolution before taking refuge across the gemstone's angled shoulders. "You don't need to tell me twice boss, just let your friend Padpa here handle all the dirty work~" they said.

    "...There really is no reasoning with you, is there?" he mumbled, the words fading under his breath.

    Whilst appalled by their choice of grammatical structure, Oswald received no further liberty to dispute the matter, not when his assistant regularly affected stalwart personalities that're both abrasive and pushy - resisting proved futile on borrowed time, he thought, and while his teeth dig into the slow-drying skin of his bottom lip, the alchemist resolves to question it no further, admitting to himself most of all that the engagement between the cherries and his scarlet assistant was an activity prompted from his inability to keep to himself. Was it a total loss? Perhaps, if his wounded pride could be rendered a casualty. Beyond himself, however, was a potential to conduct research on the blossom and it's catalysis...among other things.

    "...At least handle them gently, you brute." he'd say, closing the distance between his feet and the gem with a freshly manifested chest, one that was nicely complimented by a cushioned interior. "These blossoms easily bruise."

    The unvoiced stalemate that the pair relished between breaths felt almost intimate if not for the rustle of voices composing the bulk of the backdrop. Not that either minded - work to them was a leisure and things that can only be done with diligence always blurs the irrelevant things into white noise.

    But this sort of spell between them, however lovely, came undone the moment Padparadscha  jerked upward, alarmed. Their stance appeared taut as they palmed the weapon that sat close to their rear, edging pitch black from a pearly scabbard.

    The sapphire steadies, unmoving even to the gust of winds. "...Master. The crowds. They're-"

    "Gone."

    A metallic tinkle vibrated from his waist as the alchemist slid both hands into the spaces of his cloak, later producing a pair of three-barreled pistols from the holsters at his waist. Alshain shines uncannily as its twin, Tarazed, hums with an energetic buzz. Satisfied and at the same time decently armed, the alchemist delayed no further as he pushed forward, wary of the blossom walls that barricaded every possible exit point. Upon inspection, the petals appeared to pulse with hostility, where even the slightest of probs from Padpa's sword encouraged the wall to increase in length...and durability.

    The situation was not a dire one, but there was more than a few somethings being amiss and unorthodox. They'd been cornered for reasons inane, that much needn't be said, yet the identity of their captor taunts his curiosities with a single thought - why had it been them?

    Across him, Padparadscha holds the front guard as best as their compromised abilities could take them, this time with the Obsidian Spine fully separate from its scabbard. They remain silent for most of the discourse of their observation, but their senses are visibly scrambled from the sheer amount of pink blurring their normally 20/20 vision. This fails to deter them from noticing the plant-like structure growing from the scattered debris of Rose Garden's central fountain. Its branches hang low with pulsing blossoms, and at their base sat a hoard of sentient creatures, approaching their positions on foot.

    The wind around them whimpers as the sensation of something sharp cuts through it, and the pair have little leeway for avoiding the onslaught apart from their individual reflexes that drive them to evade in different, but parallel directions. They dodged, but their faces betray no shock as they realize the objects that now wedged themselves between the spaces in the pavement.

    "Petals." Oswald spat, bemused.
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      Current date/time is 24th February 2020, 4:57 pm