First Person: Well this is unexpected. I guess the Malnosso must have really missed me to drag me back here for a third go. How long has it been since I was last here? Don’t suppose there’s anyone here that still remembers me?
Something I’ve been wondering too, while “shopping” for all my things again. The Malnosso reach across time space, and the very fabric of reality, and alter practically anything here in Luceti to fit their needs, even create whole buildings practically overnight. Somehow though, setting up a replica of a returning victim’s last apartment is beyond their most advanced shifting technology... magic. You get the idea.
Still, it gives me an excuse to see the town, right? So while I try to find all my clothes again, tell me what I’ve missed Luceti.
Third Person: This was almost becoming old hat, Michael thought as he worked his way through the forest. Only a few minutes earlier, he had found himself laying once again in a grassy clearing at the heart of Luceti’s forest, but already he was well on his way towards civilization.
When he had first opened his eyes, Michael’s surprise only lasted as long as it took him to notice his journal, the staple tool . With a small smile, he rose to his feet, stretched his legs, stretched his wings, and started heading towards the town. Michael’s previous stints in Luceti had included enough time wandering the forest, either to help find new feathers or from lack of anything better to do, that he had his bearings in moments.
Soon, with one of the scout towers behind him, Michael’s day was beginning to feel like any other in Luceti. He was still in the New Feather “uniform” but beyond that, this was little more than just another shift. Recalling the night he awoke in the middle of the mountains and had to march over miles of rough terrain without shoes, Michael laughed to himself; a walk through the woods on a pleasant late-summer day was the least troublesome thing the Malnosso could have put him through after all. By the time the sights and sounds of the village were close enough to reach him between the trees, the young sniper was whistling a tune-- one from Ozma’s favorite band most likely, considering the way Michael’s commanding officer forced Skull Squadron to listen to them during drills. The upbeat tune felt right though. Luceti was far from perfect, but he had to give the little experimental enclosure some credit. It had given him a chance to learn the fates of his friends, a chance at a peaceful life-- a second chance at life, period. That alone was worth a bit of a walk.
Re: Michael Blanc
First Person: Well this is unexpected. I guess the Malnosso must have really missed me to drag me back here for a third go. How long has it been since I was last here? Don’t suppose there’s anyone here that still remembers me?
Something I’ve been wondering too, while “shopping” for all my things again. The Malnosso reach across time space, and the very fabric of reality, and alter practically anything here in Luceti to fit their needs, even create whole buildings practically overnight. Somehow though, setting up a replica of a returning victim’s last apartment is beyond their most advanced shifting technology... magic. You get the idea.
Still, it gives me an excuse to see the town, right? So while I try to find all my clothes again, tell me what I’ve missed Luceti.
Third Person: This was almost becoming old hat, Michael thought as he worked his way through the forest. Only a few minutes earlier, he had found himself laying once again in a grassy clearing at the heart of Luceti’s forest, but already he was well on his way towards civilization.
When he had first opened his eyes, Michael’s surprise only lasted as long as it took him to notice his journal, the staple tool . With a small smile, he rose to his feet, stretched his legs, stretched his wings, and started heading towards the town. Michael’s previous stints in Luceti had included enough time wandering the forest, either to help find new feathers or from lack of anything better to do, that he had his bearings in moments.
Soon, with one of the scout towers behind him, Michael’s day was beginning to feel like any other in Luceti. He was still in the New Feather “uniform” but beyond that, this was little more than just another shift. Recalling the night he awoke in the middle of the mountains and had to march over miles of rough terrain without shoes, Michael laughed to himself; a walk through the woods on a pleasant late-summer day was the least troublesome thing the Malnosso could have put him through after all. By the time the sights and sounds of the village were close enough to reach him between the trees, the young sniper was whistling a tune-- one from Ozma’s favorite band most likely, considering the way Michael’s commanding officer forced Skull Squadron to listen to them during drills. The upbeat tune felt right though. Luceti was far from perfect, but he had to give the little experimental enclosure some credit. It had given him a chance to learn the fates of his friends, a chance at a peaceful life-- a second chance at life, period. That alone was worth a bit of a walk.