((As agreed, here I come! First PBP post in english, pls be gud ;_;. Edit: Actually no, criticize the fu** out of me so I can improve!))
Kahn'a tugged at his hat to have it put properly, sighing. The holes fashioned in it to accomodate the fact that he was Miqo'te did not make up for how uncomfortable it felt. Perhaps was it that his uniform was too recently acquired; he had only been asked to put it on once for duty. His mind trailed off, distracted by recollections of that very evening, at the Ball. That night, he was assigned to the double duty of safeguarding the place, and keeping his eyes open. Thinking back of how much of a failure he felt he was that night, he could not help but be shaken by a contemptuous hiccup.
He had wrongly assumed his duty would be an easy one, since identifying threats was a skill he had, and displayed very well on his hunts. But of course, he did not account for the fact he had to watch and observe intelligent beings capable of hiding their intentions, unlike beasts. And he was not even nearly close to have a grasp on how many people would turn up that evening. Yes, it was a painful one. But it also was the last night he had seen the Captain, at least officially.
Captain Erik Mynhier… where could have the man gone, so suddenly?
Going through learning all the procedures, the formality to show to both the fine people and the hierarchy, and the authority that persons with position possessed, all of this was hard enough for Kahn'a to ingest with the occasional help he would receive from the Captain, when he dared ask questions, but until they found him, he would have to make do on his own. It was a strange feeling, because he was told the Immortal Flames was very much like a large family with wings that would cover anyone they could reach, and yet he felt very alone in his plight. Enlisted as Private Third Class in the Immortal Flames, his allegiance lied with the Red Wings, the Captain's unit he had been talked into joining.
Walking down Ul'dah main street, Kahn'a could feel the apprehension rising in his heart. He was to attend a meeting that would discuss the search party the Flames were organizing to find the Captain, but he had no idea what to expect. If the Flames held any information, then he had been left in the dark.
It felt all so... sudden. A few days ago, he did not have the slighest clue Erik Mynhier went missing, since the two of them did not exactly keep close contact on a daily basis. The Captain always seemed to be able to find Kahn'a when he needed him. Thinking about it, it was rather unsettling. But then, a day later or two, he was approached by a man he would have deemed suspicious had he not been so quick to reveal his intentions, and interests.
Osric Melkire. No, Sergeant Melkire… whatever.
Over a drink, the Sergeant had Kahn'a know he was affiliated to the Flames, and that he held interest in finding the Captain. Or perhaps a lot of people did, Kahn'a had little clue about this. But the story is, he wanted information, and Osric extended his hand to him in that regard. He would grab that hand propped in his direction, that and anything he could learn that would have him know more.
After a short while, he found himself in front of the Hall of Flames. Somewhere in the building, the meeting would take place. With unassured steps, he walked in, trying to lay his eyes on anything that would guide him. A sign, a familiar face, a… mask! Spotting the Sergeant, Kahn'a made his way towards him more decisively, and gave the man a short nod and a standard salute. Perhaps was it unnecessary, but that much mattered little in his sense. He was not here for proper formalities, after all.
He was there to help find Erik Mynhier, and this time he felt ready.
Kahn'a tugged at his hat to have it put properly, sighing. The holes fashioned in it to accomodate the fact that he was Miqo'te did not make up for how uncomfortable it felt. Perhaps was it that his uniform was too recently acquired; he had only been asked to put it on once for duty. His mind trailed off, distracted by recollections of that very evening, at the Ball. That night, he was assigned to the double duty of safeguarding the place, and keeping his eyes open. Thinking back of how much of a failure he felt he was that night, he could not help but be shaken by a contemptuous hiccup.
He had wrongly assumed his duty would be an easy one, since identifying threats was a skill he had, and displayed very well on his hunts. But of course, he did not account for the fact he had to watch and observe intelligent beings capable of hiding their intentions, unlike beasts. And he was not even nearly close to have a grasp on how many people would turn up that evening. Yes, it was a painful one. But it also was the last night he had seen the Captain, at least officially.
Captain Erik Mynhier… where could have the man gone, so suddenly?
Going through learning all the procedures, the formality to show to both the fine people and the hierarchy, and the authority that persons with position possessed, all of this was hard enough for Kahn'a to ingest with the occasional help he would receive from the Captain, when he dared ask questions, but until they found him, he would have to make do on his own. It was a strange feeling, because he was told the Immortal Flames was very much like a large family with wings that would cover anyone they could reach, and yet he felt very alone in his plight. Enlisted as Private Third Class in the Immortal Flames, his allegiance lied with the Red Wings, the Captain's unit he had been talked into joining.
Walking down Ul'dah main street, Kahn'a could feel the apprehension rising in his heart. He was to attend a meeting that would discuss the search party the Flames were organizing to find the Captain, but he had no idea what to expect. If the Flames held any information, then he had been left in the dark.
It felt all so... sudden. A few days ago, he did not have the slighest clue Erik Mynhier went missing, since the two of them did not exactly keep close contact on a daily basis. The Captain always seemed to be able to find Kahn'a when he needed him. Thinking about it, it was rather unsettling. But then, a day later or two, he was approached by a man he would have deemed suspicious had he not been so quick to reveal his intentions, and interests.
Osric Melkire. No, Sergeant Melkire… whatever.
Over a drink, the Sergeant had Kahn'a know he was affiliated to the Flames, and that he held interest in finding the Captain. Or perhaps a lot of people did, Kahn'a had little clue about this. But the story is, he wanted information, and Osric extended his hand to him in that regard. He would grab that hand propped in his direction, that and anything he could learn that would have him know more.
After a short while, he found himself in front of the Hall of Flames. Somewhere in the building, the meeting would take place. With unassured steps, he walked in, trying to lay his eyes on anything that would guide him. A sign, a familiar face, a… mask! Spotting the Sergeant, Kahn'a made his way towards him more decisively, and gave the man a short nod and a standard salute. Perhaps was it unnecessary, but that much mattered little in his sense. He was not here for proper formalities, after all.
He was there to help find Erik Mynhier, and this time he felt ready.
