ignorance [gabranth]

[Cid Raines]

[cs=4][bg=DCDCDC][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,420px,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=cellpadding,3px,true] now i see the truth, i got a doubt a different motive in your eyes and now i'm out
[cs=4][bg=DCDCDC][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=padding,2px,true] This empire of Archadia. It certainly was something, and while it was more… medieval than Cocoon, it certainly had high technology that could perhaps prove a fair fight with Cocoon’s technology. Perhaps. If the Northern empires actually went to war, and the rumours were true. Having arrived here from Rabanastre, he was considered a normal civilian of Archadia – thank the skies that his current clothes of a white tank top, black cargo trousers and white fingerless gloves, and white boots fit in with the environment. Almost. He hadn’t really seen people with a tattoo like the one upon his upper right arm, but they didn’t seem to be that rare. He had seen a few others, but, they might’ve came from other places. It was actually almost like a shock to be somewhere that was quite crowded. Gran Pulse was wild, open-spaced and welcoming [ if you took out the rabid monsters ] whereas Archades seemed quite strict, close-together and almost frightening. However, Cid Raines was quite used to cities, and busy atmospheres, being a resident of Eden and making visits to Palumpolum quite a lot, or, as much as he could with his job of protecting Cocoon’s skies from Pulse invasion. Lay low, Cid… he thought to himself, deciding to take a look around the city and stay near the aerodrome just in case he needed a quick getaway for whatever reason. When he unboarded the airship, he, like many others, were searched, to check that they weren’t dangerous or had weapons. They seemed to be very panicky about the threat of invasion and attack, reminding Cid about the ‘good old days’ which made him laugh. Or made him want to laugh, really. Laugh it away over a tea, coffee, water, rum, wine, beer, anything. He just really felt like laughing like an insane madman who had nothing better to do than to laugh, slice off people’s limbs and cook them in stew, eat them, then vomit, and then attach them back to the body, laugh some more and then mutilate the body with pretty patterns while giggling insanely. Not that Raines was anything like that… No, not at all. How could you think that? Because, really, that piece of paper was one time. One time. One. Time. … Back on subject. According to a friendly Bangaa on the airship from Rabanastre, to get somewhere in Archades, you had to help other people, in order to gain objects known as ‘Pinewood Chops’. So, therefore, if you helped someone, they would perhaps gift you with a chop to help you out, as a reward of sorts. Now, Cid was actually quite familiar with this concept, having been on ground patrols a few times rather than on the Lindblum, and he had certainly helped people out with specific tasks. Hell, he even helped a young student out with their homework, though in Bodhum students were common and they were friendlier than others on Cocoon. People in Eden, say, tended to be quite stuck up, rather posh and quite… would religious perhaps be a good word? It didn’t seem to be, but at the moment, Raines couldn’t think of another word, but he wasn’t saying that he was like that, oh no. He was born in Eden to an upperclass family, sure, but he was born with a laidback, calm personality, but the dark haired man was also liable to have a breakdown. Hello, insomnia that puts a lot of stress on Cid. Despite feeling rather active today, managing to sleep for an hour or two on the airship on the way to Archades as well, the Primarch of Cocoon could almost feel himself dropping asleep just by weaving through crowds for a look around the area. He knew he wouldn’t pass out, he always knew he was going to pass out an hour before it happened, oddly enough, but later he might feel like he might, which would mean he would have to go to an inn. Whether it cost gil wouldn’t be a problem. Cid was quite wealthy as he had a lot of money from his family and being a Brigadier General, and a Primarch [ if only for what seemed to be four days and two hours ], but Pinewood Chops could be a problem, but still, he was pretty confident that he could earn some. Now, as he reached backstreets of the main city – there was apparently an Old Archades somewhere, but he was sure he wasn’t near there – he could feel a gaze on him. Perhaps more? He was used to the heat of gazes as people watched him stroll down streets with Cavalry soldiers, in order to capture a dangerous criminal, but they were of fear. The atmosphere… Could he feel it? Raines turned his head slightly, pale green eyes seeming to lighten in colour, and almost immediately he caught sight of guards. Hm… Well-guarded, definitely paranoid about invasion. Spears were raised and he could see a mastiff sitting by the feet of one guard, panting as if he had just taken a long run. Were they cautious about him, keeping an eye on him? Quite a nice welcome… Not. It was almost as though he was a l’Cie again, or rather, one like Fang. People would stare at her because she was dressed oddly, and spoke oddly. No one on Cocoon had the Pulsian huntress’s accent, though they could’ve assumed she came from a weird and mixed background. Cid’s accent wasn’t as the usual accent of Cocoon. It was almost… softer, almost like a song, but not. He had power in his words and motivation, hope, but his words were still soft and open. People said that they inspired people to trust him. His accent… Cid felt like he had two. His more natural one, used when relaxed, and his other one, which was more like the common accent of Cocoon, used more in business. He didn’t really think about it much, and didn’t want to think now. A twitch of a smile came on his face, and the guards seemed to have noticed that he knew they were watching him, but… Were they walking away, or was that metal clanking the sound of someone coming up to him?
[bg=DCDCDC] TAGGED	[bg=DCDCDC] WORDS	[bg=DCDCDC] LYRICS	[bg=DCDCDC] CREDITS
[bg=DCDCDC] tag, you're it	[bg=DCDCDC] oooo	[bg=DCDCDC] headstrong by trapt	[bg=DCDCDC] table made by darkee. do not steal.
[cs=5][bg=DCDCDC] ... my longest post with cid ever? ; god i didn't know what to name this thread, so i just stuck something bad on. xD
[cs=5][bg=DCDCDC] see you later!

[Captain Cedric Rackham]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,470,true][bg=EEE6E4][atrb=background,http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs7/i/2005/258/c/4/Paper_texture_v5_by_bashcorpo.jpg] AND I WOULD LET A PIECE OF MYSELF DIE IT'S HARD TO BE THE BETTER MAN - WHEN YOU FORGET TO TRY it's hard to be the better man - when you're still lying For the most part, they were always the same. A blur of color or perhaps lack of, Gabranth was hardly ever sure anymore but they stuck out like a sore thumb, these immigrants. How they managed to sneak into Archades was beyond him, though he had his suspicions as coin was enough reason to let a man pass into the upper quarter without the sufficient amount of chops. The ideals that had once made this Empire were now falling into decay, he would have to set these things right if not by punishment than perhaps public display, resort to the years old methods of torture he found more agreeable than conversation. He watched the splotch of muted color walk through the crowds, his attire plain though his height was out of the ordinary among those from Ivalice. His head of black hair with its length and obscene amount of styling was easily enough separated from the fair haired denizens of the area, as if his attire was not alone enough to make him appear ‘different’ for lack of better words. It was not in Gabranth’s nature to allow such a being to intrude into a territory they had no claims to be in, however he was going to let it slide, just this once for the sake of his own dwindling interest in arresting every man and woman he saw ( the prison was filling up fast and his manor was running out of rooms for those he saw interest in. ) until he caught a glimpse of a brand upon the man’s exposed right arm. It reminded him of another he had met not but a few weeks ago, Fang. Perhaps he was from her ‘Gran Pulse,’ and in a gesture of friendship he might detain this man so she might have some kind of companionship and some relatable conversation when the Judge was not present and able to converse. His approach was not quiet, his armor jostling with each step, the familiar rattling all but a muted noise to his ears. He had grown used to it and it had become something of white noise at this point, barely audible above the hustling and bustling of the crowd, the men and women conversing in exchange for favorable gossips. A few women noted his approach, turning in his direction and placing their colorful paper umbrellas behind their heads, smiling as the disregarded their presence entirely. He was focused on one being and one being alone, and that was the man who continued to pass through the quarter seemingly unaware of the armored figure that approached. Upon his approach he truly noted his height and though Gabranth would not admit it, it was indeed intimidating, craning his neck up for a better view of this man’s features. They were soft for the most part, his complexion flawless though there were a few visible signs of age or perhaps weariness that he understood all too well. His eyes were thin, a sickly shade of green that mixed into another odd hue he couldn’t place. Black hair was needlessly fashioned into some sort of haircut he would be more partial to seeing in Rabanastre though he still went with the assumption that he was from Gran Pulse, from what he gathered it seemed plausible. His vision flickered from this man’s face to his guards, their bodies unmoving, positions held as one of the beasts at their feet lifted its head. Reassuring. Gabranth remained a few feet from this man, his head slightly lifted and legs slightly parted as he took his familiar stance. He reared his shoulders back as if to make himself appear more imposing and not as short. It was one of his peeves, though hardly noticeable it was apparent that he refused to look up to his man if it meant meeting him in the eye. “Stop where you are,” His voice was smooth though thickly accented, heavier than those around him though far more deliberate. “you will state your business within Archades.” He gave no hint to his position, finding the prepared speech surprisingly droll and over used during these present times. i hoped that you would do this for me POST MADE BY GABRANTH OF CALAMITY'S CRY

[Cid Raines]

[cs=4][bg=DCDCDC][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,420px,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=cellpadding,3px,true] now i see the truth, i got a doubt a different motive in your eyes and now i'm out

[cs=4][bg=DCDCDC][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=padding,2px,true] There was a stop in the clanking metals that were almost familiar to him, but its noise wasn’t loud and low. It was almost loud, but not as loud as other metallic noises he heard, and a higher pitch, almost, unlike the noise of the Lindblum’s engine room, where you would find various groans of metal. The noise reminded more of the sound of his boots on the steel of his airship. Often he would sit on the wall of the observation deck and dangle his legs, resisting that temptation to jump off and fall to his death, occasionally hitting the side of the airship with a quiet ‘clang’. A smooth and thickly accented voice met his ears. The accent wasn’t surprising to her, he himself having an odd accent and often when he spoke to odd individuals they had an accent that stood out amongst Cocoon but were more uncommon than rare. They didn’t stand out like Fang and Vanille’s accents. “Stop where you are. You will state your business within Archades.” Sooner or later, he would have stood out, and it seemed that it was sooner. Cid slowly turned on the spot, fixing his eyes on the figure that stood a few feet from him. It was a man – obviously from the voice, unless it was really a woman inside all that metal with a voice distorter inside there too – fully covered in armour with a long black cape on his back. If anything, the silver plated attire of this man was intimidating, yet seemingly impractical. Wouldn’t it be hot inside that armour? Though, Raines could see its uses. Strong metal, it had to be, and used in battle. It would keep its wearer safe, definitely. “I’m visiting,” He stated simply, the small casual tone to his voice not mixing with his business accent very well – like ketchup on ice cream. “I was in Rabanastre, and I heard of Archades. I’m a… I wouldn’t say traveller, but,” Raines nodded, hoping that this rather grand looking hunk of metal would understand what he was saying… and brushed off the fact that the dark haired man was rambling ever so slightly. He wasn’t used to formal situations yet, after the time he was dead. There seemed to be more energy in the tired man as he took some steps forward, putting his hand out in front of the man. “My name is Cid Raines,” he introduced himself. He didn’t want to seem rude, or suspicious and possibly thrown in the prisons. He had heard that Archades was throwing more and more people into the dungeons – a word almost unfamiliar to Cid, but not unknown – with this collision of worlds. Back on Cocoon, they put people in prisons, or executed them if they were l’Cie – Pulse l’Cie, that is [ Cid was never fond of this movement ]. If a group of people would be purged, they would be sent to the Hanging Edge – a series of railways and roads at Cocoon’s outer rim – and sent down to Gran Pulse.

[cs=5][bg=DCDCDC] any comments will go here

[cs=5][bg=DCDCDC] see you later