[attr="class","elle"]

[attr="class","elle b"]

[attr="class","elle i"]"wake up."

god, her head burns. the aching throb of a headache accompanies the sickly sensation of dried blood. funny, she can't remember if it's hers or another's...

the world hasn't quite righted itself even as she startles into awareness. it starts with a gasp, eyes popping open, and the flailing of limbs as she shifts right into defensive mode. one of her hands struggles to grab her honedge, fingers weak and trembling. she merely ends up with handfuls of strange blue grass each time.

fuck.

"what the hell?" comes next when realization finally bubbles into her mind. there's another person here, teetering a little too close. was it his voice she heard? what the fuck happened?

her brain struggles to connect dots, coming up short and pained instead. an irritated huff escapes. and then, she's easing herself into a sitting position, her hand giving up its search for galatine to feebly grip her head.

"where am i?"

Greyson Connors

as she wakes, he falls backwards onto his ass, palms reaching behind to stabilize him in the grass.
[break][break]
"i don't know."
[break][break]he offers back, head listing backwards to regard the strange colored sky. were they fucked up beyond belief? om some wild trip after having their meals laced?
[break][break]
another question: who the hell was she?
[break][break]
"do i know you from somewhere?"

[attr="class","ooc"]irazelle graves | MISSION[break]

[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]

[attr="class","elle"]

[attr="class","elle b"]

[attr="class","elle i"]a pang of guilt rises when he falls back. and then, it settles, dissipating into confusion and irritation.

her sword is still out of reach. it leaves her skin crawling, perhaps even more so than the odd colors of the world around them.

she tries to busy herself with finding it, slowly beginning to crawl through blue grass. her eyes scan for familiar steel, for a slightly worn hilt and a tattered ribbon. there's too much grass and her head is still pounding with each movement she makes.

"uh," she stops, glances up, and stares at him. her expression is halfway between indifferent and curious, as if existing in an odd plane between the two.

"no, i don't think so," finally escapes in a mild sigh. "you don't look familiar." nothing does.

Greyson Connors

"right. i was thinking the same."
[break][break]
with a grunt, and a heave, greyson pushes himself to his feet. his hands were slick with a liquid, like it rained the night before, and he palms the pant of his thigh to dry them.
[break][break]
he offers her a hand to leverage her to her feet.
[break][break]
"i take that to mean you also have no idea how we got here."

[attr="class","ooc"]irazelle graves | MISSION[break]

[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]

[attr="class","elle"]

[attr="class","elle b"]

[attr="class","elle i"]he rises, hauling himself up to stand tall against this odd sort of world.

and when a hand extends down toward her, she's grasping it with small fingers and a grateful smile. who says chivalry is dead?

her legs still feel wobbly, as if buckling beneath the weight of her pounding headache. it takes a moment for the world to right itself. and when it does, her eyes are quick to scan for her lost sword.

she finds the honedge a few feet away, tattered ribbon billowing in the breeze. it's half stuck in the ground, sunken in and struggling. she's shifting toward it before she can stop herself, skin crawling and crawling until that soothing sensation of cool steel hits her open palm.

"no clue," she calls, planting both feet firmly on the ground and yanking with all her might. the honedge is freed in a fluid motion and she's stumbling back from the momentum. the tattered ribbon coils and curls around her wrist, as if the possessed sword cannot tolerate being without her again.

it's a warm comfort in a strange world.

she rejoins greyson, then, and she's fixing him with a serious stare.

"how are we gonna get out of here?"

Greyson Connors

his jaw steels, and teeth grind uneasily. the blade in her hands was more than capable of killing him, if she didn't have all her marbles. he does his best not to show that unease.
[break][break]
"i don't know."
[break][break]
admitting the truth always came easy to him. yet he couldn't deny the fear that trickled at the base of his spine when doing so this time. for all he knew, they were transported into the strange realm the ultra beasts had been born from.
[break][break]
certain death.
[break][break]
"we should... walk and see what we find."

[attr="class","ooc"]irazelle graves | MISSION[break]

[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]

[attr="class","elle"]

[attr="class","elle b"]

[attr="class","elle i"]there will be no killing today. not by her, anyway. she sticks to a code blindly, faithfully. a good swordswoman doesn't cut down someone who isn't armed. no, that is not the way.

his unease goes unnoticed, buried beneath his admittance. and where he provides truth, he also provides an unsettling feeling. it drops into her stomach like a stone.

and as she swallows, she recognizes it. dread.

a foreign place with who knows what lurking in the shadows. no memory of what happened. no clear way to escape. yeah, this fucking sucks.

she tries to keep her composure. and for the most part, she does. years at court have her trained to not show fear, unease. fine china break under the slightest pressure but steel does not.

fingers grip the familiar hilt of her honedge a little tighter. white knuckles are the only tell she has now.

eventually, she nods. "lead the way."

she's placing her trust in him and god, she hopes it isn't misplaced.

Greyson Connors

before he even sets a foot off in any direction, she shakes his head visibly, brow furrowing, before a smile turns his somber expression more cheerful.
[break]
[break]
"i didn't even realize. i'm sorry, i'm greyson, by the way. league officer."
[break]
[break]

he extends a hand out in greeting, hoping desperately it's not clammy.

[attr="class","ooc"]irazelle graves | MISSION[break]

[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]

[attr="class","elle"]

[attr="class","elle b"]

[attr="class","elle i"]cheerful meets polite, practiced, poised. the mask is easy to slip into.

as easy as her fingers settle against his. it's not clammy but warm. almost a comfort against this strange world.

"irazelle," her grip is firm but lacking bite. "swordswoman." ex noblewoman stays silent, left to rot in the throat. the accent and posture are telling regardless.

her hand drops as quickly as it had risen. it settles back at her side with a soft swish of silk.

"this place got quite the pair, huh?" it's half an attempted joke. she's not familiar with small talk, however, and the punchline is missed.

Greyson Connors

"swordsman?" an archaic profession this day and age. was it a hobby thing? or maybe something familial. greyson didn't judge, instead, he wipes his hand against the waist of his pants. his own sweat, not hers.
[break][break]
he chuckles awkwardly, moving a step back and positioning himself so he's not in front of her anymore. "it certainly did." awkward, though only because he expects it to be. "we should get moving."

[attr="class","ooc"]irazelle graves | MISSION[break]

[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]

[attr="class","elle"]

[attr="class","elle b"]

[attr="class","elle i"]"yes," the smile she wears is proud, cracking away what remains of diplomatic training. it dips into mild sheepish territory, however, when she continues. "i wanted to be a knight instead of a princess." ain't that the fucking truth, too. leaving behind a relationship with a crowned prince and a life at court to become a woman of honor hadn't been what her mother wanted, sure, but that doesn't matter now.

lavender twintails swish as her head moves into a nodding motion.

"right," she murmurs. they still have to find a way out of here... "which way do you want to go first?" her fingers tighten and loosen around galatine's hilt in a little flurry of anxious movement.

no matter which way they go... she has a feeling there's gonna be a fight.

Greyson Connors

"an admirable goal. kick ass and take names, eh?" he chuckles nervously, awkwardly, roaming his gaze around the trees that surround them. mulling over her question visibly, he sighs and pats his hair down. "not sure." the truth, but not helpful; he could do better.
[break][break]
"maybe just.. that way?" its a random direction, senseless, aimless. "we just need to get out of these woods." to that point, any direction would do.

[attr="class","ooc"]irazelle graves | MISSION[break]

[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]

[attr="class","elle"]

[attr="class","elle b"]

[attr="class","elle i"]the nod of agreement is happy, almost excited that he understands. of course, she'd love nothing more than to kick ass. it's, unfortunately, a little more complicated than that...

no one takes a woman who's 5'2" seriously, even with a sword in her hands.

"okay," she murmurs. a few tentative steps follow before she's pausing, stopping. and then, her head turns toward him with a wrinkled nose.

"do we know how dense these woods are?" no, probably not. unfortunately, she has to ask the question they don't want to entertain...

"what do we do if they go on forever?"

cut down trees? scream?

Greyson Connors