woe to a city;;open

[nanking]

there were just...so many people. yue had never been so overwhelmed and the fact the buildings were taller than the ones she see back home just proved her thought. paris isn't a quiet place, indeed it is quite the opposite. everywhere, there'd be people walking about; mostly couples with their hands entwined together, bands playing hoping for an inch in fame and fortune, and the constant view of vendors everywhere. yue's not a city where every thing's peaceful so to say, in fact, she's sure her people's much more difficult to quiet down than these non-black headed pedestrians. the blue eyed girl glanced at her surroundings as she hurriedly walked down aimlessly. one may think she's trying to make it big. but this city's not that big on invading other county's vital regions. think of yue as a pacifist. but in the end, she'll hum to you that she's actually a coward in all her glorious endeavors across the seven seas. yue isn't a warrior female. she had her own fair share of terror and sadness.

suddenly, the feeling of "going farther" subsided. yue's feet had turned to jelly and by then she had felt like going down for a rest. there were no open invitation from anywhere for her to rest, as the grand buildings held no sign of welcome. yue felt obligated to check on some of these buildings, but decided against herself. she's not exactly welcomed, since paris isn't within her territory to even go in. but with so many smells wafting around the air; yue wandered if this place is specifically designed to attract outsiders. head holding high, yue saw some sort of parade of people walking down the street. no, not ordinary people, masked ones. all of them wore a red or black mask, with tattoo sleeves painted around their arms in brilliant colors of red, black and orange. as yue watched, they seem to be chanting something-in french nonetheless. blinking, yue made a step out of their way. but too late, their steps are long and quick and pretty soon yue felt herself being "attacked" by these masked individuals. she let out a yell but was unfortunately muffled by their chanting and footsteps. pushing onto soft bodies yue tried to make her way out, only to be pushed back and right into the horde of taller (and bigger) frenchmen.

screams came out in silence and pretty soon she found herself toppling to the pavemented floors. looking down at her cheongsam, the silk made fabric had some hand-prints on it. oh fuck no.

so from that moment on, yue knew that nobody can get into a country's vital regions without their permission first.

[sparta]

'cause i've been goin' crazy, i don't wanna waste another minute here.

<sup>France was not home; it was neither familiar in appearance nor in practice. But, it was a more or less ally of his and curiosity had lead Leander here, appearing starkly unamused but mildly curious at the whole thing. He disliked new places and much preferred home, in part because he was seen as normal there and in part because he felt the inexplicable need to keep idiotic people in line; as it was, however, he felt the need to travel every now and again, if only to get to know the terrain of various countries (as a tactician, geography was rather important, no?). He surveyed the city of lights or flat-chested women or fufu men or whatever the hell it was—he hardly cared enough to remember such frivolities, hardly cared to respect other countries. Sparta was known to tread on others' toes (particularly his own siblings!) and, if someone were nearby to torment, he probably would be far more entertained than he was at present.

Upon turning a corner, a parade of men greeted Leander's eyes and, for a brief moment, he could simply stare and reminisce. A million men charging forth, demonic and greedy, trying to break their lines and conquer his home. Three hundred Spartans (and a few hundred other, unimportant losers) holding the line, striking out beyond their massive shields with spears. They might have lost, but they had kicked some ass, seriously; unable to help himself, he sneered at the men marching and chanting, too caught in his recollection for a moment, nearly tempted to spit at them... It took him a moment to remember that they were, for all intensive purposes, allies and he should probably leave them be. He continued down but his eyes stayed on the group, silently wondering what the hell they were doing. Was this some chant to their fake nonexistent god? Silly people, adopting some fake religion. Was it not clear that Poseidon made the seas rise and that Ares helped him in battle? Ridiculous—completely and utterly ridiculous.

Scoffing, Sparta turned his attention back to what was right in front of him—good thing he did, too, otherwise he might have stepped on the woman sitting? laying? on the street. Was she one of those, ahem, special people? He stopped and stared down at her, taking in the oddity that was the strange woman just at his feet. What the hell was she wearing? Smirking lazily, he remarked most snidely, “Looks like you know your place—not many women do these days.”</sup>