Cont. from [x]

“Haha… well.” Lyza withered under the stare, shrinking back slightly.

“If I was that drunk, I guess you’d remember those better than me!” She looks away a little and blushes. Hard to get away from that accusation. Her eyes keep darting back, though. What was with that stretch? It was uncomfortable, that was what.

She sighs and comes clean. Somewhat.

“I was just joking, you know!! I’d never actually speak badly about you, except maybe for your rotten personality, hehe…” She cringes as she risks the joke.

“If I say anything about you it’s probably about your training and the dives I’ve been with you on, and the incredible things you’ve done. How true your legend is. I can only talk about myself so much! Even if I’m supposed to have caught up to you, Ozen the Immovable is still the delver I’ve always aspired to be like.”

“Maybe, sometimes, when I’m real drunk I say stuff like that…”

Ozen tilted back her head, the quiet pops of vertebrae making her wince. It didn’t hurt, but having to keep her gaze perpetually downward was hard on her spine. Despite the effects of the Pins, she wasn’t without the aches of poor posture. She was still human, and being human meant certain inconveniences.

“I suppose my temperament is pretty rotten.” She hummed a chuckle, face pointed skywards. "Not that I intend on changing it, mind you. It adds to my lack of charm, which I’m depending on to ward off annoying upstarts.” She reached for her shoulders with a hand, and massaged them the best she could. “You’ve already broken every record I’d ever set, and you still aspire to be me?” She murmured, shaking her head. “I’ll never understand you.”

@lord-of-dawn​

Through the gloom and vapor of an underground sea, a lumbering figure appeared, a silhouette of black more akin to a boulder than human, trudging steadily through plains of barren rock. On its back was a stuffed pack and the distinct shape of a barrel, its bulk rivaling that of its carrier. The hem of dark robes fluttered to the breeze of its long, heavy strides, each step a thud stirring a cloud of sand. A wide-rimmed hat obscured its face from view. Armored forearms peeked from the folds of its cloak, long, gloved digits curled around the straps of its cargo.

Ozen the Immovable walked alone. She traveled for Idofront, where the sovereignty of another ruled.

Bondrewd the Novel, the Lord of Dawn - a name Orth had not known until his unannounced emergence as a White Whistle. Ozen was in the middle of a mission when it happened, and once she returned, a bag of loot in tow, the whole city was buzzing with rumour and speculation. Not one to ever care about such things, she kept to herself. The lack of information on this man was curious, but White Whistles were private creatures. Ozen saw no reason to seek the man out for no justifiable reason.

Lyza alone was a handful enough. She didn’t need any more White Whistles in her life.

However, when the open invitation to visit Idofront became widespread news, Ozen once again found her intrigue piqued. Her perfect excuse came with a request from the Delvers Association: scope out the man and his operation. She was their best candidate. She was undeniably mighty, but her temper wasn’t run on a short fuse like Lyza. Ironically, she was also the most social compared to Srajo and Wakuna. Thus, they asked for her aid, and who was she to refuse an executive order when it suited her interest?

Stopping at the top of a hill, Ozen surveyed the Forward Operating Base. What a peculiar sight. Even within the Netherworld, it was singular, a wash of light illuminating the otherwise dull and dreary Sea of Corpses. There was no doubt in her mind that Bondrewd has already spotted her. She expected to be seen, making no effort to hide her approach. Stealth has never been her forte. However, for one holding within her the strength of one-hundred-and-twenty-thousand men, the Unmovable Lord had no reason for tricks.

“Please don’t! I don’t really want to find out if it does hurt!”

Cont. from [x]

“That’s because you take too much time fighting, Ozen. You’re like ‘ahhh I got too into it, wahhh I wanted to hit him harder’ while you stomp around trying to scare them first, or lug that dang cannon into place.” She waves her arms around with her mock impression.

“I’m just being efficient about it, that’s all!”

“I’m glad you’re a White Whistle and not an actor.” Ozen blinked at the exaggerated impersonation from her companion. “If they’re going to die, might as well make it good sport. Unlike you, I have to constantly watch my strength lest I accidentally crushed a cranium or two. It’s exhausting.”

At first, Ozen had thought it a hallucination, but she was far from the third layer, and she wasn’t the only person stopping dead in their tracks to stare at the tiny creature bounding down the path. Was a Narehate strolling the streets of Orth in broad daylight? What has the city come to during her absence? Sighing, the Unmovable Lord caught up to the small figure of fluff with three quick strides, and plucked it from the ground.