04-17-2018, 06:50 PM
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[div style="background-color: #e3dfdf; width: 305px; border-bottom: 1px solid black; border-left: 1px solid black; border-right: 1px solid black; padding: 10px; line-height: 110%; word-wrap: break-word; text-align: justify; margin: auto; color: black; font-family: Georgia; text-size: 6pt"]Bastille rarely saw armor in this lifetime, rare as it tended to be in these sorts of groups, but Echo had encountered quite a few different tribes who fashioned various forms of protection like so. As he joined the others, nursing a slight headache, he found himself vaguely reminded of those groups, flickers of that past life's memories passing through and making his head throb more.
He gave a slight shake of his head, as if to ward off Echo's infiltration, and instead focused on the two before him -- a strange (he missed the name) and Suite. He glanced sideways at her, noting the term "higher position". Yes, he had been carrying a hunch that she was from Clans like the ones he was born into -- possibly even from the same area, as odd as that would be. Her use of that phrase, new as she was (and as rarely as Starry seemed to say it, novel as the notion was to him), seemed to suggest the same thing. Interesting. He might have asked her where she came from, but he wasn't one to pry.
"We have an open acceptance policy," he supplied, answering her commentary for her as he studied this newcomer. "Bast," he added, nodding over his shoulder towards the Observatory, "We can show you around, then, I guess. Or you can check out the map and explore on your own." Gods, was his head killing him -- he hoped this guy was the more solitary type.
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]