Preparing to Depart (Solo)

[Franky]

Searing 32, 122

It was a peaceful evening in the Gobbler. The majority of folks were heading home, just the dedicated or too drunk hanging about. There was a bard strumming lazily on a mandolin at a table in the center of the room. Franky was leaning, his back against the counter, Dalma on the stool beside him, both sipping some mead from their flagons. Franky was finished making preparations for their trip to the Imperium. Tomorrow, they would fly out from the airfields on an Imperial tourist vessel, first class this time. Their bags were prepped, their papers sorted, tickets purchased. And now they were enjoying some drink to quell the pre-trip jitters.

Dalma leans into Franky, and he wraps his free arm around her shoulders, kissing her on the temple. "I'm excited to be going home. You haven't been since before your campaign." She sipped at her drink, "There's more huts in our quarter now. And Hidelya has taken up gardening now. Apparently the new desk job is tedious for her. There's so many flowers everywhere now. "

Franky smiled, "Yes, it will be good to be back. I'm ready."

Franky finished his mead, setting the flagon behind him, one of his bartenders refilling it promptly. "It's time for me to stop running from things now."

Dalma kissed his shoulder, rubbing his arm, "Good. Putting down roots is a better look on you, my love."

She gestured out in front of them to the patrons scattered around the bar, "Look at what you've built. This is your home, you built this. Our children are grown, our grandwarts can be brought to visit us. I will be happy to make this our forever home, if that's what you want."

Franky nodded, "That sounds good. But I think we might need a bigger home."

Dalma chuckled, "I wouldn't complain about that."

The bard began strumming a more lively tune, and Dalma smiled brightly, "I love this song. Shall I dance, see what the future holds for our trip home?" Franky smiled, holding out a hand. Dalma took it, sliding off the stool, and removing her shawl. She was in a beaded top and a skirt, and upon her midriff were the many eyes that were moving, looking around the room independent of one each other, the Emblem from Galetira.

She moved over to stand beneath the hanging candelabra, winking at Franky. She began her dance, to the beat of the song, the bard now sitting up and paying attention. Franky knew this was how she was reaching into the Astral Sea, seeking out his Destiny. She had explained to him how it worked, at least how she best understood it. She knew that he'd negotiated for her to have it, as a tool to help serve this mission, so just as he'd been open with her, she was with him. Her hips spun, her belly writhed, her arms reached and yearned and beckoned until all eyes were on the Seer. And then she began to spin, the wind from her motions snuffing every other candle, and she twirled the smoke around her.

And all the while she was smiling, but Franky knew she was delving deeper into her trance.

[Paragon]

Ḏ̵͎̩͉̥̾̾̏̌ë̸͉̗́͛ḁ̵̧̛͔̯̜̙͙͔̱̀̀͌̒̓͒̎͜͠ţ̷̲̤̬͕̻̭̎̊̓̃͑͑̽̓̊̍̓̍̾͘͜͝h̶̺̱̞̦̱̫̺͎͔̤̲̠͂̇̔͑̊̓̏̊͋̎̌͋̈́͘͘͜

It pounced upon Dalma like a rabid dog that refused to let go. The aethereal vision that guided her suddenly sprung forth and before her was raging a storm of utter devastation. Buildings toppled. Fires burned but those fires then turned into winged beasts of flesh and shadow. People screamed in utter terror. Some were vaporized where they stood. Some transformed into hideous beasts. People and faces she recognized became horribly monstrous and deformed as utter chaos rained down upon a city of brass. Horror ravaged the streets of the city as the devastation spread further and further and further. And within it all, there stood Frankorg, the resolute soldier rushing to the defense of the world around him. Until chaos swept even his stalwart form away and a pillar against the wave of destruction was broken.

But then the threads rippling outward from this moment swayed. It showed some of those monstrous faces returning to normal. It showed them fearful but resolute. It showed them afraid but ready. The storm was coming and they were ready to weather it. Destruction still ravaged the city but lives were spared as they found shelters that had not been there before. And there stood Frankorg, the resolute soldier but this time he was not swept away by the tide of chaos. This time he surfaced and even more of the faces she knew did not succumb to the horrors.

This moment remained fixed. The destruction did not stop.

This was Fate. The storm would come. The question was…

…would they be ready for it?

[Franky]

Franky watched as Dalma, deep in her trance now, moved in rapid, aggressive, violent motions. This was not her normal style, at all. He knew that now that she was a true Seer, that when she was in a trance, her body translated what she was seeing in the Astral Sea. And this did not bode well. The bard, not really knowing what was going on, began strumming faster to keep pace with her, slightly stumbling over his inebriated fingers. As she spun, the snuffed candles relit themselves, and the flames grew, far taller than would ever exist naturally on a candle. Franky's eye grew wide as the flames leapt from the candles, and joined in on the whirlwind of dance that Dalma was putting on. Several of the onlookers stumbled back in surprise, but many ooed and awwed, thinking it was part of the performance.

Franky had an ache growing in his stomach, knowing that this was going to be bad.

Dalma spun down to her knees, her eyes open, her chest heaving from exertion as the flames snuffed out, wrapping her in rings of smoke as the crowd began to cheer for her. Franky was quickly on his knees before her, seeing the exhaustion on her brow and the fear in her eyes. Whatever she'd seen had scared her to her core. He pulled her into his chest, her leaning against him weakly, and he just held her. When she tapped his shoulder lightly, he scooped her up in his arms, looking at the crowd, he flashed a smile, but his heart was not in it. "She needs her rest after that performance."

He carried her through the kitchens and up to their apartment.

He laid her down upon the couch. He grabbed his pitcher of water, pouring a glass and holding it to her lips as she drank slowly. When she was done, he knelt next to her, holding her hands. Her face was still pale, her eyes wild.

"What did you see?"

Her voice quivering, "Fate is coming.... Two days, maybe three, it's... so hard to tell. It's so big, its blinding. Soon."

Franky squeezed her hands, "What's coming, Dalma?"

Her head lulled to the side, her tired eyes crowned by a sweaty brow, "Devastation. Some sort of... storm I think. But not like those with winds and rain and lightning. Something worse..." Her eyes were tearing up, "It was turning people into monsters, horrid, twisted beasts who have lost their minds. Other people were just... turned to dust. Buildings crashed on screaming families. There was so much death, so much pain and suffering."

Franky's eyes went wide at this. He pressed her, "Where? Where did this happen?"

Her voice soft as she looked him in the eyes, "Here, my love. It is going to hit here. We can't stop it. It will happen. All of Zaichaer will be overrun."

Franky's face paled, fear wore plainly upon his brow. His mind flashed to the people downstairs, to the many customers that came through his doors, to the employees that worked for him and followed him, to the many friends he'd made here in the Knob, to the many others that were just trying to survive in this oppressive city. Why was Fate always crushing the most in need beneath her heel? Would all of their efforts, his efforts, everything the people of the Knob had worked for be for naught?

Franky's face hardened, and Dalma smiled, caressing his cheek. "There he is."

Franky cocked an eyebrow at her, "I saw you in the middle of it all too. How you were before, my love. Your hair looked so beautiful."

Franky's face further deepened in his determination. "It's time to get to work."

Dalma weakly took his hand, "We need you. Both of you. Major Frankorg who endured so much, and Franky who cares so widely."

Franky nodded. "If we can't stop this, we will need to survive it. As many as we can save."

He refilled her water, setting it on the end table near her.

"Get some rest, my love. I need to do some planning."

Dalma nodded, patting him on the hand, closing her eyes. Franky looked down at her face, worried that this might be the last time either of them slept remotely soundly for a while. Franky would not be sleeping tonight. He made his way over to his desk, pulling out a variety of journals, notebooks, ledgers, and the like. And he began to piece together his plan, running through the resources he knew the Knob had in play, and what he could possibly get ahold of on short notice. It was a tall task, but Franky had enough resources on hand to possibly manage this. But he needed to do so without causing a panic. Or worse, disbelief. He'd have to put everything he had on the line for this.

And he would.

Franky poured himself a glass of whiskey, to calm his nerves, as he disappeared into his notes.

[Aegis]

REVIEW TIME

Franky

Lores:
Detection: Seeing the changes in Dalma as she enters her Foresight trance
Tactics: Misdirecting the severity of a situation
Tactics: Embracing one's true selves in preparation for difficulty
Tactics: Having exhausted resources rest
Tactics: Calming one's nerves before planning
Bodybuilding: Carrying Dalma


Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A

Points: 10 due to Modbomb

Comments: N/A