It was the end of the year. People all around were celebrating the accomplishments, struggles, and changes this year brought, while spouting well-wishes and intentions for the year to come. The cultural celebration was fascinating, since time always passed the same and nothing tangible changed from the last day of December to the first of January, but it was no different from each new day starting in the middle of the night instead of at sunrise. It was arbitrary, but ultimately served as a point of focus for humans to measure by.
Clone 88 wasn't one for optimism or pessimism, but she had learned about the concept of hope either way. Though she didn't understand it fully, she truly hoped the next year would be better than the last. She wasn't so silly as to declare resolutions. More often than not they failed, and those involved just seemed silly. But what did Finn hope for in the future, be it this new year or several after?
The Rune Knights had put on an end of the year ball, and of course, hardly any expense was spared. The whole mess hall had been gutted and masked with muslin over softly twinkling lights. Several crystalline chandeliers had been strung up among the billowed fabric hiding the industrial rafters. Temporary hard-wood subfloors had been installed over the tile. Up on a temporary stage played a live band who seemed capable of playing anything, and what they couldn't, the booming speakers and DJ could handle. In the corners, and hidden among the fabric, were lights capable of turning this ball into a more lively, nightclub-esque venue, but for now it was more lowkey and classy, fit for the war-torn soldiers filing in either in pairs or in squads dressed to the nines. Though this happened every year, the Rune Knights needed a morale boost now more than ever.
Even Finn was done up for the occasion. Though her fashion choices were eclectic at best, tonight she'd chosen wisely. It was a simple dress of draping wine-hued fabric, the top tied up from the waist and resting nearly off the shoulders while the rest fell straight from the cinched waist all the way to the floor, wrapping her body in a way where a slit in the front over her right leg allowed for freer movement and less snagging for her prosthetic limb. Otherwise, her ebony hair was braided up in the usual style, save for two pieces to frame her face, and held in place with her favorite headband with the gold roses. Some crimson lipstick and black heels later, she almost looked like she belonged at the swanky party.
The woman entered with neither date nor squad. Alone, she walked straight to the bar situated near the kitchen area to the left, where quite a few round tables and clear chairs were gathered under white tablecloths and sparkling centerpieces. She held no rank to be forced to be here, unlike a certain other squad-mate she knew, but Finn had decided to come all the same even though this wasn't her thing. Maybe it was to honor the rest of her friends, who would have been more than happy to suck down free food and drinks and live it up a little on their job's dime. Maybe she had given into humanity and just didn't want to be alone on this arbitrary last day of the year. Or, perhaps, a very small piece of her looked forward to the companionship of that funny guy from Seven who kept trying to weasel into her good graces.
Ordering a whiskey sour for herself, she perched on one of the stools at the well polished bar. Yes, another of her reasons for coming was also the free drinks. Once upon a time she hadn't been much for alcohol, but between peer pressure from her friends and the grief of losing them, the numbing effects of booze became more attractive. But that still wasn't all of her potential motives for sitting at this New Year's Ball tonight.
Finn hoped to catch the General, Shen Kadokawa, the only other one from their squad left. She would've bet her entire paycheck he would eventually end up where she sat. Since he rescued her, she'd yet to catch him for a conversation. The man wouldn't look at her, even when she tried to get his attention. He was keeping busy and had changed a lot, but... they were fighting similar demons. While he seemed intent to fight them alone, Finn thought two were stronger than one. She was no Jona Bradley or Caleb Sherman, but Infinity had been there, too.
[wc: 785]
Clone 88 wasn't one for optimism or pessimism, but she had learned about the concept of hope either way. Though she didn't understand it fully, she truly hoped the next year would be better than the last. She wasn't so silly as to declare resolutions. More often than not they failed, and those involved just seemed silly. But what did Finn hope for in the future, be it this new year or several after?
The Rune Knights had put on an end of the year ball, and of course, hardly any expense was spared. The whole mess hall had been gutted and masked with muslin over softly twinkling lights. Several crystalline chandeliers had been strung up among the billowed fabric hiding the industrial rafters. Temporary hard-wood subfloors had been installed over the tile. Up on a temporary stage played a live band who seemed capable of playing anything, and what they couldn't, the booming speakers and DJ could handle. In the corners, and hidden among the fabric, were lights capable of turning this ball into a more lively, nightclub-esque venue, but for now it was more lowkey and classy, fit for the war-torn soldiers filing in either in pairs or in squads dressed to the nines. Though this happened every year, the Rune Knights needed a morale boost now more than ever.
Even Finn was done up for the occasion. Though her fashion choices were eclectic at best, tonight she'd chosen wisely. It was a simple dress of draping wine-hued fabric, the top tied up from the waist and resting nearly off the shoulders while the rest fell straight from the cinched waist all the way to the floor, wrapping her body in a way where a slit in the front over her right leg allowed for freer movement and less snagging for her prosthetic limb. Otherwise, her ebony hair was braided up in the usual style, save for two pieces to frame her face, and held in place with her favorite headband with the gold roses. Some crimson lipstick and black heels later, she almost looked like she belonged at the swanky party.
The woman entered with neither date nor squad. Alone, she walked straight to the bar situated near the kitchen area to the left, where quite a few round tables and clear chairs were gathered under white tablecloths and sparkling centerpieces. She held no rank to be forced to be here, unlike a certain other squad-mate she knew, but Finn had decided to come all the same even though this wasn't her thing. Maybe it was to honor the rest of her friends, who would have been more than happy to suck down free food and drinks and live it up a little on their job's dime. Maybe she had given into humanity and just didn't want to be alone on this arbitrary last day of the year. Or, perhaps, a very small piece of her looked forward to the companionship of that funny guy from Seven who kept trying to weasel into her good graces.
Ordering a whiskey sour for herself, she perched on one of the stools at the well polished bar. Yes, another of her reasons for coming was also the free drinks. Once upon a time she hadn't been much for alcohol, but between peer pressure from her friends and the grief of losing them, the numbing effects of booze became more attractive. But that still wasn't all of her potential motives for sitting at this New Year's Ball tonight.
Finn hoped to catch the General, Shen Kadokawa, the only other one from their squad left. She would've bet her entire paycheck he would eventually end up where she sat. Since he rescued her, she'd yet to catch him for a conversation. The man wouldn't look at her, even when she tried to get his attention. He was keeping busy and had changed a lot, but... they were fighting similar demons. While he seemed intent to fight them alone, Finn thought two were stronger than one. She was no Jona Bradley or Caleb Sherman, but Infinity had been there, too.
[wc: 785]