Legretta the Quick[Canon]
Tales of the Abyss[Player] laenavesse
(can call me Laena :D)[RP] somarium[MSN/e-mail]
GMT -6 (Central Time U.S.). I come on like...a lot though.
Oh yeah, I'm always on MSN, I just have it set to offline. I primarily use it to get my tag alerts xD; Feel free to poke though o.o;
If you must require my attention then leave a message. Whether or not I answer will depend on its importance.
[ooc: Legretta's voicemail! IC or OOC stuff goes here :O]
[OH SO PUBLIC AND OH SO WTF.]
Children. The sound of their small voices and laughing could be heard as she gazed out over the small playground. She was sitting on a bench, a book in her hands.
It was quiet. peaceful. A small, amused smile flitted across her lips as she watched a young Tear helping a small redheaded boy (Luke?) stand back up after falling. She was about to return to her reading when a voice called to her.
She turned and saw a young Sync, only without his mask. "What is it?" The boy looked aggravated and there was only one reason for that.
Sync scowled as a small blond blur ran past, and Legretta found herself with the boy pressing his face in his lap, crying. "He won't stop crying! He keeps complaining about the food I was trying to give him."
Ignoring the green-haired boy's grumbling, she set her book aside and picked up the blond, wiping away his tears. "Now, now, it's all right."
"M-Mommy..." the blond sniffled and hugged her.
"Gailardia, what did I say about crying? Now return with Sync and do as he says." Her words were firm, but her voice had softened a bit as she looked at him.
Guy -- or in this case, Gailardia -- nodded and returned to Sync.
[and this would be Legretta just sitting up in complete and utter shock]
All you could see was her back. She was alone, standing at some unknown beach, and clad only in a simple light blue shift. Her hair was down, the long strands brushing against her face as the sea breeze blew past.
She was just staring out into the water, the light green waves washing over her bare feet, her sandals in her right hand.
But the water was starting to change. It started to turn into a rusty red before darkening. What was once the calm cries of seagulls soon became the cries of the dying.
And now both her guns were in her hands, and what looked to be blood was splattered all over her. Like a camera, the angle turned slowly around, revealing corpses of those she had killed both in battle and in the pursuit of Van's goals. The old faces of those inventors, in Sheridan floated past.
Now you could see her face and she was staring at them all. But there was no sympathy, regret, remorse. Only cold, deep green.
This was all because of the Score. All for a world without a Score. For the Commandant. For myself.
And I have no regrets.
She now raised her guns and the dream cuts as she fires them.