Introduction - [Accidental Voice]/[Action for 845 Goldberg Street]

[gavehimwings]

[Was this heaven?

It had to be heaven. All around her was warmth and softness and silence. The panicked voices of her friends and family had all faded away. If Welkin were still here, he wouldn't be quiet. He'd be telling her stories, talking about all the problems in the Edelweiss that needed fixing, going on and on about this fascinating new species of moth...

But it was quiet.

Or at least it was until a shrieking ring pierced the peace. Isara sat bolt upright with a gasp, and what she saw around her made her shriek. This wasn't the clinic. This wasn't her room. These weren't her clothes and nowhere in the base or any Gallian camp would look this...this pink!

Isara's new family will probably be alerted to her presence by a great deal of crashing, banging around, and shouting coming from the girl's room, until Isara finally comes tearing out of her room, looking about her in every direction, tense as a whipcord to attack despite the fact that she's dressed in a blue flannel nightgown with a panda bear on it She calls out in a voice that echoes in the little house.] What's going on? Where am I? Who are you and why have you captured me?!

[As she takes the corner into the living room, however, Isara collides with the table where a telephone happens to be sitting, knocking it off the receiver so that it bounces off the floor. At that point, all and sundry will be able to listen in on what, by now, is probably a very familiar scene of someone panicking, saying that what's going on can't be true, trying to wake themselves up, and the like. But the end table slows her down, at least. As Isara stumbles, wincing in pain, she's forced to slow down and take in her new surroundings.

Every detail is more horrifying than the last. That looks like her in some of those photos on the mantlepiece. Snatching one off for a closer look is enough to prove to Isara that it is her, or some kind of twisted twin. But that tall, lanky woman with the short red hair, or that boy who's always scowling or making faces...she doesn't know them! What the hell is she doing with them? She...she looks like she loves them! Like they're her family!

Glass shatters as Isara hurls a photo of her playing volleyball at the wall.] What the hell is going on here? Show yourselves! My name is Corporal Isara Gunther of the Gallian militia, serial number 66409, and I demand answers!

((ooc: And here she is! I bring you all Isara Gunther of Valkyria Chronicles. To the residents of 845, I do apologize for the mess. Isara here is just from the point of her death on Marberry Shore, and so is a bit confused and disoriented to start with, and family is a sadly hot button issue with her. Apologies as always for the TL;DR

And I am conscious! Tag at me!))

Comments

[madanomadamada]

[ Little kid? If Ryoma heard that he'd disagree to that. ]

I'm thirteen. It's illegal for me to be a soldier. I'm a tennis player, not some military-tool.

[gavehimwings]

[Isara looks genuinely startled, at this news, so much so that she almost drops her book and has to fumble to catch it.]

What? You mean you've never had any military training at all?

[She even leans forward slightly, staring at Ryoma as though he's fascinating.]</ ...what sort of place <i>do you come from?

[She, for example, comes from a country of mandatory conscription, and the youngest soldier in Squad 7 is twelve.]

I'm guessing. I couldn't find anything on when you get to join the army in japan,

[madanomadamada]

(ooc: but it should be when you're legal, right? And you get legal when you're 20 in Japan...)

[ Slight smirk on his face now, at how startled she gets. ]

Told you. That'd be illegal. You can't join the army until you're 20.

[ Now, he's gonna raise his eyebrow at you again. ] From a completely normal world. Where what's important to me is tennis and food and Karupin.

[gavehimwings]

((ooc: Valkyria Chronicles encyclopedia says that, in wartime or threat of war, all citizens who fulfill the necessary qualifications must undergo mandatory conscription into the militia. All citizens are also required to graduate from the military academy. Aisha Newmann, the twelve year old, is a special case but fifteen year olds, for example, aren't.))

[She makes a very disbelieving face at this.] Your army lets people join just because they turn twenty? You don't have to go to the academy or nothing. I'm not in the army - I'm part of the militia.

[Then, looking thoughtful, she folds her arms across her chest while still holding the book:] And food is important to everyone, isn't it?

[madanomadamada]

Well we're supposed to be in school until then. And I don't know the difference of the army and militia. Other stuff's more important.

[ Tennis, for one. ]

As long as it's washoku or hamburger. Or egg sandwiches.

[gavehimwings]

I like egg sandwiches. [She places the hand not holding the coffee table book over her stomach, looking suddenly doleful. Egg sandwiches seem forever ago, even if their trip to Marberry Shore didn't take that long.] But...what's "washoku"? It sounds like some kind of bug.

[madanomadamada]

[ Staaaaaare. ] Washoku is Japanese food.

[ Sigh. ] Now I feel like eating egg sandwich.

[gavehimwings]

[Staaaaare back. And frown. Isara is used to kids being faster or stronger than she is, but only Welkin is actually smarter, and on top of the many and varied shocks she's had to date she doesn't like this.

But eventually the girl gives up, shaking her head and sighing and deciding to focus on something else. Something a little more hopeful.]

Can we have an egg sandwich?

[madanomadamada]

[ If it's a staring contest, you're gonna lose. Ryoma's good at staring. ]

Yeah, we can.

[gavehimwings]

[Try her, Ryoma. Isara spends her days staring at tank parts, and they never blink.]

Are you waiting for me to make you an egg sandwich?

[madanomadamada]

[ How boring. ]

Why would I? I don't even knoe if you're any good at it.

[ With that, he's heading for the kitchen. Your call if you follow or nit. ]

[gavehimwings]

[Hah. She wins, Ryoma. Also, she's following him into the kitchen. On cue, her stomach gives an audible growl.]

I make really good egg sandwiches. But, um...thanks, little guy.

[madanomadamada]

[ Whatever. It wasn't like it was a big deal or anything (denial is not healthy, Ryo-chan).

He goes back to frowing. ]

Little guy?

[gavehimwings]

[She looks entirely innocent. And is still clutching the coffee table book to her chest. She seems to have forgotten about him.]

What?

[madanomadamada]

I'm not 'little guy'. I'm Echizen Ryoma, one of Japan's best tennis players in the middle school cirquit.

[ He looks at the book. ]

Why're you bringing that with you?

[ And they're in the kitchen, where he starts to prepare the sandwiches right away. ]

[gavehimwings]

Oh. [She nods, trying to look understanding and admiring and all of that.] Wow. That's...very impressive, Echizan. Good job.

Bringing what? [She looks around, and then down at the book.] Oh! Um, I didn't mean to. Be right back!

[And she darts back to the living room to replace it on the coffee table.]

[madanomadamada]

[ He scrunches his nose. ] It's Echizen.

[ He turns back to what he had at hand as the weird girl ran off, frowning at her getting his name wrong like that. ]

[gavehimwings]

[Called back from the living room:] Sorry!

[Isara pads back into the kitchen a second later, bookless.] I guess I'm not very good at pronouncing "Japanese" things yet.

[madanomadamada]

What nationality are you then? [ He himself was, as she'd noticed by the name, Japanese. Though he had mostly lived in the US. ]

Done.

[ He put the platters with the sandwiches on the table before rummaging through the fridge for a drink. No soda. Go figure. He sat down by the table. ]

[gavehimwings]

[Isara gives her deep black hair a tug before pulling out a chair for herself.]

You've never seen a Darcsen before either?

[madanomadamada]

A dark-what? [ Another raised eyebrow, before he chomps down on the sandwich. ]

[gavehimwings]

I'll just go ahead and take that as a no. [Isara takes another look at herself, at her current state of dress, and scowls.] Not that I'd recognize me as a Darcsen like this anyway. Where'd they put my shawl?

[madanomadamada]

It's not like you have to dress any special way to be someone. [ Well there was dresscodes, of course. Likewhen you played in a tournament against a different school. Had to wear the uniform then. ]

You're not gonna get it back yet anyway. You get things in the mail sometimes.

[gavehimwings]

I know that! But...all Darcsens wear shawls like that. Or, or armbands at least! [She gives a little shiver.] I-It's fine. I'll just make myself another one.

[madanomadamada]

You'll probably be able to find something to use. [ Given how weird he found the fashion around here. Nothing modern at all. ]