06-18-2011, 02:17 PM
ooc: +5.
please check this thread to see who's intending on joining, any ooc scheming etc.
Sage and Valkerie are expected - one, maybe two more could join
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The Derbert Military Museum was little more than a small, unimpressive white wooden house with a faded black roof and door. The back entrance was entirely open, exposing the collections of Canadian war memorabilia to the elements. Most of it had been ravaged by man long before nature contributed its ware. Hidden beneath the layers of dust on the ground were shards of broken glass, and empty display cases held only light etched silhouettes of where the arms they once housed used to rest. Giza carefully toed through the blanket of sharp edges, hungry eyes sizing up the remainders of the exhibit, digits twitching eagerly at her sides.
She moved first to an overturned faceless manikin. It had been deprived of its jacket and boots, but its fatigue pants and helmet remained. She removed the latter and settled it over her small head. The over-sized head gear slumped forward, nearly falling over her brow until she caught it and pressed it back. Next she claimed an RCAF messenger bag, slinging it over her shoulder. The old cracked leather satchel was empty and in desperate need of an oiling. She began to fill it with knickknacks from the giftshop: A coffee mug, memorabilia pins, the last remaining unbroken snowglobe. She cradled the ob as it if were a sacred treasure before tucking it away.
Her frenzied hunt came to an abrupt halt when she spotted a diorama of the battle of Vimy Ridge, nearly nicking herself en route to the display. She recognized the German emblems set in entrenched opposition to the Canadians. Her tail began to sway intently behind her as she tried to decipher the three dimensional story sprawled out before her. Somewhere in her reading, she began to give voice to her imagined narrative – quietly at first, but with graduating enthusiasm. Soon she had fully developed characters, each with their own distinctive voices which she acted allowed as she moved about the figurines.
“And so at last, the pathetic opposition falls to the mighty hand of the German Empire! ” She cackled maniacally with a slight wave of the figurine she’d characterized as a ruthless general. She punctuated the declaration with surprisingly accurate explosion sound effects as the majority of the Canadian troops were toppled with a swipe of her small hand, scattering them about the miniature barren muddy trenches.
She delicately retrieved the Canadian soldier she’d made the hero of her tale and lay him on his back. Her features twisted and she took on a sombre, pained expression.
“Alas. I am defeated. My only regret is that I will never see my beloved Caroline again. ” She lamented in a smooth baritone.
Right on cue, she quickly produced a pamphlet bearing an image of a proud modern female pilot offering a patriotic salute. It was the only suitable image of a female the museum had to offer. She held the glossy stand in near the fallen soldier, unfazed by the discrepancy in scale between the two. Her performance carried on as impassioned as ever.
“What – what are you doing here, my love? ” She gasped lowly.
“I enlisted in the field medic unit – but I only wanted to find you, to take you home. ” She cooed femininely.
She gave a light shake of her head and dropped her voice once more. “...I cannot lie. I fear you are too late. ”
“No! ” She yelped.
“Hush, my love. Remember me in happy times – by the lake near your father’s – where you were gilded in fireflies. So many of them... I can see them now... ”
Her taper into silence marked the soldier’s demise. She delicately placed the pamphlet next to the figurine, and assumed an authoritative, naratorial tone. “Caroline never remarried or bore any children, but she was never alone. She carried the memory of Elliot with her for the rest of her days, and returned to the lake near her father’s every summer to be bathed in the heavenly light of the firefly glow.”
Though you’d have to be watching from a very particular angle to catch it, tears were beginning to well in her eyes.
please check this thread to see who's intending on joining, any ooc scheming etc.
Sage and Valkerie are expected - one, maybe two more could join
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Derbert Military Museum was little more than a small, unimpressive white wooden house with a faded black roof and door. The back entrance was entirely open, exposing the collections of Canadian war memorabilia to the elements. Most of it had been ravaged by man long before nature contributed its ware. Hidden beneath the layers of dust on the ground were shards of broken glass, and empty display cases held only light etched silhouettes of where the arms they once housed used to rest. Giza carefully toed through the blanket of sharp edges, hungry eyes sizing up the remainders of the exhibit, digits twitching eagerly at her sides.
She moved first to an overturned faceless manikin. It had been deprived of its jacket and boots, but its fatigue pants and helmet remained. She removed the latter and settled it over her small head. The over-sized head gear slumped forward, nearly falling over her brow until she caught it and pressed it back. Next she claimed an RCAF messenger bag, slinging it over her shoulder. The old cracked leather satchel was empty and in desperate need of an oiling. She began to fill it with knickknacks from the giftshop: A coffee mug, memorabilia pins, the last remaining unbroken snowglobe. She cradled the ob as it if were a sacred treasure before tucking it away.
Her frenzied hunt came to an abrupt halt when she spotted a diorama of the battle of Vimy Ridge, nearly nicking herself en route to the display. She recognized the German emblems set in entrenched opposition to the Canadians. Her tail began to sway intently behind her as she tried to decipher the three dimensional story sprawled out before her. Somewhere in her reading, she began to give voice to her imagined narrative – quietly at first, but with graduating enthusiasm. Soon she had fully developed characters, each with their own distinctive voices which she acted allowed as she moved about the figurines.
“And so at last, the pathetic opposition falls to the mighty hand of the German Empire! ” She cackled maniacally with a slight wave of the figurine she’d characterized as a ruthless general. She punctuated the declaration with surprisingly accurate explosion sound effects as the majority of the Canadian troops were toppled with a swipe of her small hand, scattering them about the miniature barren muddy trenches.
She delicately retrieved the Canadian soldier she’d made the hero of her tale and lay him on his back. Her features twisted and she took on a sombre, pained expression.
“Alas. I am defeated. My only regret is that I will never see my beloved Caroline again. ” She lamented in a smooth baritone.
Right on cue, she quickly produced a pamphlet bearing an image of a proud modern female pilot offering a patriotic salute. It was the only suitable image of a female the museum had to offer. She held the glossy stand in near the fallen soldier, unfazed by the discrepancy in scale between the two. Her performance carried on as impassioned as ever.
“What – what are you doing here, my love? ” She gasped lowly.
“I enlisted in the field medic unit – but I only wanted to find you, to take you home. ” She cooed femininely.
She gave a light shake of her head and dropped her voice once more. “...I cannot lie. I fear you are too late. ”
“No! ” She yelped.
“Hush, my love. Remember me in happy times – by the lake near your father’s – where you were gilded in fireflies. So many of them... I can see them now... ”
Her taper into silence marked the soldier’s demise. She delicately placed the pamphlet next to the figurine, and assumed an authoritative, naratorial tone. “Caroline never remarried or bore any children, but she was never alone. She carried the memory of Elliot with her for the rest of her days, and returned to the lake near her father’s every summer to be bathed in the heavenly light of the firefly glow.”
Though you’d have to be watching from a very particular angle to catch it, tears were beginning to well in her eyes.