Shirotsume was a place that Jen had never been to before. And yet, something about the place, it's people, it's culture all seemed familiar. More familiar, however, was the impending oppression of human nature. Jen could have walked away, could have killed the one responsible by herself, but taking the head off of this particular creature would only cause more to pop up in its place. Instead, she had an idea of how to help these people to help themselves.
It was a little different than her usual routine, but somehow it felt right. She knew that there was going to be a rally of sorts within the week, and she knew the best way to turn these people against the Boscan dignitary that was scheduled to speak. Each day, she planted ideas in the minds of the people, explaining that if the new laws were to pass, they would all be locked up, that they would lose their freedom, that they needed to fight. She didn't use any magic, or speak directly to them. Instead she left messages, hidden notes, in order to get them to think these things on their own.
In a matter of days, she had achieved the desired result. She could have left, could have acted like she was never there in the first place. But she didn't, she felt compelled to see this through, to watch what was to come. Those who had received her messages were not mages, or creatures of the night. They were just regular people who did the jobs that kept the world moving.
Civil servants, Messengers, kids with LacBook accounts and blogs, they were all enamored with their freedom. The idea that said freedom could be lost, that it could be stolen from them, caused them a great deal of fear, which sated Jen's hunger until it turned from fear to a public cry of outrage, a protest, and eventually, she watched them become violent. They lashed out against police, public officials, burned their own city hall to the ground. All this was caused by a few stray messages in the right direction. Jen, all the while, enjoyed herself at the local hot spring.
Her unusual biology afforded her opportunity in that regard that she was in no position to turn down. And so, she watched from a lacrima in the wall while enjoying some good company as the climax of her visit, her very reason for being there, came to fruition. The Boscan took to the stage right on schedule, talked of laws, of "what was right", of "saving their culture". But what did he know of their culture? He wasn't anymore a part of it than Jen.
When it finally came time for him to finish his speech, there was a loud bang that made the booing crowd fall silent. One would normally expect screams, terror, a fleeing public. Instead, the event was met with silence. It was a silence that spoke many volumes, a silence that caused Jen to smirk as a feeling of pure bliss washed over her. Was this what it felt like to lead? She was proud, proud of those with whom she had entrusted this task, proud that instead of turning on one another, they went after the Boscan's guards, that they publicly executed them.
Law was becoming a foreign concept to these once humble folk. No longer would they have to live in fear of breaking some written rule, crossing some sort of imaginary line. They could live free, free of laws, free of oppression, and most importantly, free of the council. At least, that was what they thought, and who was Jen to tell them any different? She had been given a job, and seen it through.
Seeing as how she had done what was asked of her, and how well she was enjoying herself, she didn't see much trouble in staying a while, enjoying herself a bit more. The next week was one filled with debauchery, greed, and self indulgence. It was quite a fun time for the lioness. After all, why inspire lawlessness if she couldn't enjoy it? And she was very much enjoying it.
So much so that she felt more than a little regretful about the idea of going back to the guild. What Jen didn't know when she left without a word was that each woman she had shared her company with in her time there carried a little piece of her with them. She didn't leave any way to contact her, and hadn't exactly used her real name either. The only way that any of them would be able to find her would be by tracking the mark on her chest, the guild emblem that would lead them to Errings Rising. She didn't tell them who she was, or where that was though.
As such it was unlikely that she would ever be tracked down. Upon arriving back at the guild, Jen submitted her report in full, including all the juicy details of her time spent in the hot spring. She was, after all, very open about such subjects. But that was something for another time. She didn't know who it was that wanted the Boscan dead, but they were, and she was quite pleased with how easy it was to make it happen.
So easy in fact, that she was certain she could do so again if called upon. Her main reason for having been in the hot spring the entire time had also been listed. It had to do with her missing arm. She could still feel it, or at least she thought she could. In moments of anger, she would even try to slap or punch with it, only to be reminded that it wasn't there. The hot spring in shirotsume had temporarily prevented her from feeling that pain, of an arm that wasn't there, of the constant reminder every time she looked in the mirror. She could feel it again as she filled out the report, but she knew that eventually she would have to get past it.
WC: 1018/1000
It was a little different than her usual routine, but somehow it felt right. She knew that there was going to be a rally of sorts within the week, and she knew the best way to turn these people against the Boscan dignitary that was scheduled to speak. Each day, she planted ideas in the minds of the people, explaining that if the new laws were to pass, they would all be locked up, that they would lose their freedom, that they needed to fight. She didn't use any magic, or speak directly to them. Instead she left messages, hidden notes, in order to get them to think these things on their own.
In a matter of days, she had achieved the desired result. She could have left, could have acted like she was never there in the first place. But she didn't, she felt compelled to see this through, to watch what was to come. Those who had received her messages were not mages, or creatures of the night. They were just regular people who did the jobs that kept the world moving.
Civil servants, Messengers, kids with LacBook accounts and blogs, they were all enamored with their freedom. The idea that said freedom could be lost, that it could be stolen from them, caused them a great deal of fear, which sated Jen's hunger until it turned from fear to a public cry of outrage, a protest, and eventually, she watched them become violent. They lashed out against police, public officials, burned their own city hall to the ground. All this was caused by a few stray messages in the right direction. Jen, all the while, enjoyed herself at the local hot spring.
Her unusual biology afforded her opportunity in that regard that she was in no position to turn down. And so, she watched from a lacrima in the wall while enjoying some good company as the climax of her visit, her very reason for being there, came to fruition. The Boscan took to the stage right on schedule, talked of laws, of "what was right", of "saving their culture". But what did he know of their culture? He wasn't anymore a part of it than Jen.
When it finally came time for him to finish his speech, there was a loud bang that made the booing crowd fall silent. One would normally expect screams, terror, a fleeing public. Instead, the event was met with silence. It was a silence that spoke many volumes, a silence that caused Jen to smirk as a feeling of pure bliss washed over her. Was this what it felt like to lead? She was proud, proud of those with whom she had entrusted this task, proud that instead of turning on one another, they went after the Boscan's guards, that they publicly executed them.
Law was becoming a foreign concept to these once humble folk. No longer would they have to live in fear of breaking some written rule, crossing some sort of imaginary line. They could live free, free of laws, free of oppression, and most importantly, free of the council. At least, that was what they thought, and who was Jen to tell them any different? She had been given a job, and seen it through.
Seeing as how she had done what was asked of her, and how well she was enjoying herself, she didn't see much trouble in staying a while, enjoying herself a bit more. The next week was one filled with debauchery, greed, and self indulgence. It was quite a fun time for the lioness. After all, why inspire lawlessness if she couldn't enjoy it? And she was very much enjoying it.
So much so that she felt more than a little regretful about the idea of going back to the guild. What Jen didn't know when she left without a word was that each woman she had shared her company with in her time there carried a little piece of her with them. She didn't leave any way to contact her, and hadn't exactly used her real name either. The only way that any of them would be able to find her would be by tracking the mark on her chest, the guild emblem that would lead them to Errings Rising. She didn't tell them who she was, or where that was though.
As such it was unlikely that she would ever be tracked down. Upon arriving back at the guild, Jen submitted her report in full, including all the juicy details of her time spent in the hot spring. She was, after all, very open about such subjects. But that was something for another time. She didn't know who it was that wanted the Boscan dead, but they were, and she was quite pleased with how easy it was to make it happen.
So easy in fact, that she was certain she could do so again if called upon. Her main reason for having been in the hot spring the entire time had also been listed. It had to do with her missing arm. She could still feel it, or at least she thought she could. In moments of anger, she would even try to slap or punch with it, only to be reminded that it wasn't there. The hot spring in shirotsume had temporarily prevented her from feeling that pain, of an arm that wasn't there, of the constant reminder every time she looked in the mirror. She could feel it again as she filled out the report, but she knew that eventually she would have to get past it.
WC: 1018/1000
