Saboro Ring 2 It's Hard Enough to Live [Zanna] | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Viewing: 2 Guest(s) |
Gabriel♞
He
Old Blood
|
They're on the way back from that... encounter, in the first ring. Gabriel can't think of anything better to do than follow Zanna, when the real threat's already within the border. Anxiety has settled strongly over them, like the stench in the air. Snorting once to clear his nostrils and head, he trots to catch up alongside her purposeful gait. "War Captain," he starts, title tasting like acid on his tongue. Everything does. "Zanna, miss..." That feels better: respectful, but familiar. They've just been through something, and Gabe already harbors a bit of kinship with those three from it. Confidence comes to him a little easier now. "What would you have me do?" The deference conveys his compliance, along with concern and curiosity in his gaze. He will do whatever he can to save Saboro, if only he had a direction. Maybe Zanna sees some of herself in that. |
Zanna
she/her
bloodfeather
|
They were on their way to find Sincate and Gray, making their way through the second ring. The majority of their walk had been in silence thus far – both of them only able to think about what the hell just happened back there. The War Captain still had a hard time convincing herself that any of it was actually real.
That may have been the reason she had Gabriel come with her: so that she could have him assure she was not going insane should she come to that conclusion. Externally, Zanna was stone. She was leading this brigade of sorts, and she would not appear to falter as a leader. This was her first test as War Captain – she would not fail the Sabora. After a long stretch of silence, the orange Dire spoke up, addressing the maroon woman first as War Captain, then simply by her name. “What would you have me do?” He asked her, but she did not stop moving. They were working on borrowed time now, and she needed them to get where they were going as fast as possible. Glancing over at the male, she first ignored his question. “What’s your name?” She didn’t remember hearing him speak it back in the first ring, and she’d prefer to be able to address him by name just as he’d addressed her by hers. She’d nod to him when he answered her, and then brought herself back to his original question. What would she have him do? What would she have any of them do? “You’re loyal to Saboro, are you not?” She was not playing tricks with the boy, she was simply asking him. “You’ve been around a while. Did I see you in the jungle?” All while she spoke, she did not slow her pace. Walking with purpose, a meaningful quickness to her steps. She’d wait to hear what he had to say then, interested in the male’s words. He seemed smart, seemed willing. She already guessed he was loyal to Saboro, considering he was still at her side. |
|
|
Gabriel♞
He
Old Blood
|
"Gabriel, ma'am. I'm a Sentry, formerly Condor." Rank is equally-- if not more-- important than a name in Saboro. It's not like anyone calls him Zacchaeus. He doesn't mention Howl, because he's not sure she's heard of it. A lot has changed, and he with it. "You're loyal to Saboro, are you not?" It's a loaded question, but one he answers unflinchingly. "Yes, ma'am." "You've been around a while." "Yes, ma'am." There's a hint of smile to his tone in this response. He's been around longer than many remember-- including the entire ruling class right now. "Did I see you in the jungle?" He keeps stride while speaking, not losing breath for how terse he is in the exchange of necessary information. "It's likely; I was born there." He oversaw a lot of other births, as well. Far more demises. Feeling personable, he divulges, "I'm not sure if this name means much anymore, but I'm the son of Sagaris." Teal eyes scan the red woman: takes in the markings on her face and colour of her eyes. She'd look nice with tattoos, he thinks. Even if their eyes do not meet, she's sure to feel the weight of his gaze, the resolve on his face. "I'm a Saboran, Zanna." Through and through. |
Zanna
she/her
bloodfeather
|
He introduced himself as Gabriel, a name that Zanna thought she may have heard before. A sentry – she noted this and stored that information away for later. He answered her next questions and followed his ‘yes’s with ‘ma’am’. The War Captain had a hard time deciding whether or not she overly enjoyed that title. She’d think on it.
“I’m not sure if this name means much anymore, but I’m the son of Sagaris. I’m a Saboran, Zanna.” His words were even and she felt his eyes boring into her. Pondering the name, she tried to recall if it had any significance to her. “I’ve maybe heard the name once or twice before, but I never had the pleasure of meeting him.” It was clear she never met him, or she’d know that meeting him would never be a pleasurable experience. It didn’t matter, anyway. In Zanna’s mind, an individual was always more than their familiar roots. It doesn’t matter who you were born to; you have your own choices and decisions to make, your own life to lead, your own legacy to create. They came to a narrowing in the stream that bled from the lake at Saboro’s center and Zanna paused before moving onward. “I think you know this already,” she began, emerald eyes searching for those of teal, “but, your father’s name doesn’t mean anything. You’ve come this far because of your own doings, not his.” Her tone was not that of chastise, but rather a voice of guidance. He was a smart boy, she had no doubt that he was aware of this – but sometimes you just needed to hear someone else say it. Gabriel seemed like a true Saboran – not the kind of Saboran in Saboro’s old lore; not the kind of Saboran Halberd would be proud of. Gabriel seemed like the kind of Saboran that would help lead Saboro to greater successes. The kind of Saboran that would remain loyal to all of Saboro, not just the parts he enjoyed. Not the kind that would revolt. “You’re a Sentry now, but what do you strive for, Gabriel?” She asked him, her tone genuinely curious. She’d wait a moment before turning to tread through the shallow water of the stream. “My title is Captain, by the way,” she’d add, calling over her shoulder. No more of that ‘ma’am’ shit – she had decided by now that she really didn’t like that. |
|
|
Gabriel♞
He
Old Blood
|
November 09, 2019, 01:58:46 AM
(This post was last modified: November 11, 2019, 11:26:19 AM by Gabriel♞.)
She speaks the advice gently but terse-- the most effective way of delivering such direction, in Gabriel's experience. She's a fine example of an Elite, for all those following. His smirk is wry. "To you, miss, I had hoped it wouldn't." Carefully-- in so many words-- they have established common ideals and forged a rare commodity in the slopes of Saboro: trust. "What do you strive for, Gabriel?" He inhales while he considers, an unencumbered pause. "I had once aspired for Harrier, like my father." The emphasis indicates that title is not the only aspect of the statement from another time. "Vulture, as I had apprenticed for. Perhaps Spectre, or Saborako." Though the possibilities he presents are scattered, there is clear direction: upward. "Wherever I may best serve Saboro, I suppose." This final statement is the only one with outright conviction. The Sentry's gaze sweeps over Zanna's turned back and hindquarters, to the bank opposite. Gabriel had once been so certain of everything he wanted-- when what he wanted was everything. Now, he's not sure he wants much of anything outside of family. "My title is Captain, by the way," the woman corrects and comforts, coerces all at once. "Of course, Captain." The son of Sagaris smiles despite himself, and wades into the water after her. |