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ID: Nvh1BTbG/qst/6261156#6269146
7/3/2025, 3:16:27 AM
>>6269144
You stand as an obstacle for many of the petitioners who are now exiting the room, each of them having to maneuver around you to reach the exit. Some give you shocked looks, surprised by your appearance here. Others, a mean glare or a hushed whisper. But none dare to approach you and discuss their grievances with your presence personally. One by one, they all pour out of the room, until only Chelsey, Bronte, and yourself are left. With the crowd finally out of your way, you are granted your first look at Bronte in over three years.
“I said this meeting was adjo-” Bronte starts, before cutting herself off as she sees you for the first time. You’re shocked at the woman who stands before you. There was no doubt this was your cousin, whom you’d grown up with and spent countless hours beside. And yet, she’d grown so much you almost had a difficult time recognizing her. Instead of the humble robes and dresses she’d wear, she was clad in garb befitting of an affluent noblewoman. Her grey hair, inherited from her father, was styled well and flowing long. She wore jewelry on her ears and fingers, when ordinarily you hardly ever saw her with anything of the sort save for the bracelet Chelsey now wore. Perhaps most surprising of all though was the newfound hardened look in her eyes. There was no longer any trace of naivete or doubt there. Your cousin’s experiences in this strange land had no doubt changed her greatly.
>“Yo.” You wave.
Bronte stands there, taking you in with a shocked look upon her face. She walks off the dais, her elegant heels tapping across the polished floor rhythmically. As she approaches, you hold out your arms, ready to embrace your cousin for the first time. She stands before you, a good many inches shorter, and punches you as hard as she can in the chest. Given that she possessed none of the physical talents you did, you fortunately did not feel a thing.
“Are! You! Out! Of! Your! Mind!?” She exclaims with each punch, fury etched across her face. “What’s this I hear about you forming a cult?! And releasing the ancient spirit that was trapped in Shangri-La out into the world?! You were just supposed to come straight here! What other maddening things have you done that you haven’t told me about?!”
>“Uhh, remember Elric von Boramus? Lila’s friend from back home? I had him tagging along with me and I think he’s now possessed by an evil sword.”
“What?!” Bronte yelps in horror. “How?! Why?!” By now, she’d begun to grow tired of punching you. Her breathing was labored, and her stylish hair was now matted with sweat. She was certainly no athlete, that much was certain, but you were fortunate she’d decided only to punch you. You could sense almost immediately that her sorcery had improved tremendously since you’d last seen her. Being on the receiving end of one of her spells would be disastrous.
You stand as an obstacle for many of the petitioners who are now exiting the room, each of them having to maneuver around you to reach the exit. Some give you shocked looks, surprised by your appearance here. Others, a mean glare or a hushed whisper. But none dare to approach you and discuss their grievances with your presence personally. One by one, they all pour out of the room, until only Chelsey, Bronte, and yourself are left. With the crowd finally out of your way, you are granted your first look at Bronte in over three years.
“I said this meeting was adjo-” Bronte starts, before cutting herself off as she sees you for the first time. You’re shocked at the woman who stands before you. There was no doubt this was your cousin, whom you’d grown up with and spent countless hours beside. And yet, she’d grown so much you almost had a difficult time recognizing her. Instead of the humble robes and dresses she’d wear, she was clad in garb befitting of an affluent noblewoman. Her grey hair, inherited from her father, was styled well and flowing long. She wore jewelry on her ears and fingers, when ordinarily you hardly ever saw her with anything of the sort save for the bracelet Chelsey now wore. Perhaps most surprising of all though was the newfound hardened look in her eyes. There was no longer any trace of naivete or doubt there. Your cousin’s experiences in this strange land had no doubt changed her greatly.
>“Yo.” You wave.
Bronte stands there, taking you in with a shocked look upon her face. She walks off the dais, her elegant heels tapping across the polished floor rhythmically. As she approaches, you hold out your arms, ready to embrace your cousin for the first time. She stands before you, a good many inches shorter, and punches you as hard as she can in the chest. Given that she possessed none of the physical talents you did, you fortunately did not feel a thing.
“Are! You! Out! Of! Your! Mind!?” She exclaims with each punch, fury etched across her face. “What’s this I hear about you forming a cult?! And releasing the ancient spirit that was trapped in Shangri-La out into the world?! You were just supposed to come straight here! What other maddening things have you done that you haven’t told me about?!”
>“Uhh, remember Elric von Boramus? Lila’s friend from back home? I had him tagging along with me and I think he’s now possessed by an evil sword.”
“What?!” Bronte yelps in horror. “How?! Why?!” By now, she’d begun to grow tired of punching you. Her breathing was labored, and her stylish hair was now matted with sweat. She was certainly no athlete, that much was certain, but you were fortunate she’d decided only to punch you. You could sense almost immediately that her sorcery had improved tremendously since you’d last seen her. Being on the receiving end of one of her spells would be disastrous.
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