[b]Reminiscence[/b] [b]Dojoville, 2:11 PM[/b] [b]Irina[/b] "[i]Definition: A story told about a past event, remembered by the narrator.[/i]" [spoiler]Open to all, including socialization and.. combat, if you find it a necessity to duel an unarmed woman. Fuсking coward. One year anniversary of the edgy asshat- erm, my main, I guess - Irina. Enjoy, ladies ' lads.[/spoiler] ------------------------------------ [i]Irina had almost found herself at peace. Not quite there yet. But she was.. she was close.[/i] [i]The return to Tatakai had been a relatively short one. The trips to the crippled man's house, Grant, her hero, had went from occurring every weekend to now once a month, whenever Irina could manage to reach the Dojo in a time where it wasn't being invaded, or shot to pieces, or destroyed, or bombed, or replaced..[/i] [i]As the crinkled leaves fell from the tall, looming trees that shadowed the empty streets, the moderate winds of fall breezing past the shining sidewalk, Irina had taken to a simple, leisurely stroll, throughout the silent part of Dojoville's residential area. To those who had been present at the Dojo in the more recent times, they would recognize the once villainess, turned.. member of the Dojo, was she? A visiter? A supporter? At this rate, it was merely unknown.[/i] [i]Irina had taken to wearing such apparel that benefited a civilian more than the merciless Huntress that she had once served as. A long, almost Victorian trench coat would coat her body and shield her from the chills of the wind, the ends of the light grey fabric reaching her kneecaps as if still allowing her to maintain a simple amount of maneuverability. The sleeves would roll down to her wrists, of which were hidden intentionally by light black gloves, tightened over her fingers with a certain intensity. She was.. literally unarmed, lest for whatever may have been kept within her jacket.[/i] [i]Strands of light silver hair, almost white in a certain way, would be parted past her face to reveal herself for the Dojo's members that actually remembered to see. She was as pretty as ever, with a simply noble look: the woman's jawline was sharp, though smooth in a manner, the skin that coated her skull being a brilliant pale white color. The wear of age had come upon the Vileblood, though it wasn't much, while dimples had forned upon her face over the years. Clear, icy blue eyes studied the tiles of concrete ahead of her, as she reached the end of the walkway that she was upon.[/i] [i]The end of the sidewalk would bring Irina to sitting upon a wooden bench, one that had been painted black, of all the colors that it could have been. Irina didn't mind it, however, but instead rested herself upon the seat anyway, her back pressed against the wooden bench. It was as if she was.. resting. The tall body that was once tense with fear and hatred sparking with a simple calm. It was a truly unnatural thing for Irina.[/i] [i]There, she began to contemplate.[/i] ------------------------------------ [i]Murderer. Traitor. Liar. Cheater.[/i] [i]Teacher. Friend. Savior. Mother.[/i] [i]Irina had a few other titles as well, Vilebitсh amongst them. She couldn't complain, with the situations that she had found herself into.. she deserved all the punishment that she would receive.[/i] [i]The first act.. a massacre. Dark red flashing across the streets.. a thing within an exosuit that did just as much damage as Irina did would come after her, fooled by the previously kind demeanor. Alongside that creature, so would a Hunter, but he would "change" his views upon Vilebloods during the previous fight to the death.[/i] [b][i]Sapphire and Lothran.[/i][/b] [i]The next.. she had found purpose. Her Queen was dead, frozen and rotting in the chilly depths of Cainhurst's throne room. So now, she had a choice: betray her new cause for the Dojo, or fight a war against gods. She called herself a coward for this one.. she chose the Dojo. She chose the samurai, over the heroine of Khalosh.[/i] [b][i]Tesuto and Zera.[/i][/b] [i]Then, the furry hunts of the later time of the year. God, she did work in those days, and she met people that she still prized in memory. Though she was sure that most of them didn't exactly like her.. she still kicked quite a lot of ass in this period of time.[/i] [b][i]John, Jason, Ghiaccio, Sketch, Hovark, Quincy.[/i][/b] [i]Then.. the ones that influenced her. Her family, really, with what they had done. The old Ranger, the teenager, her past lover, her current one, and even her own little girl, that she loved beyond anything else in the world, and beyond this world as well.[/i] [b][i]Grant, Alexandria, Athena, Astraeus, and little Mion.[/i][/b] [i]Irina grimaced to herself as she leaned back once more, gripping her hands together as her train of thought would continue to carry on. Where were they all now? The ones that she hadn't seen, and had survived the turmoil of the recent months.. where could they be, now?[/i] [i]Well.. she continued to think. Though she'd need reassurance on them, if they came around, anyway.[/i]