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railgunning[It's the awfully fresh air that causes her to wake up, head bobbing forward, blinking blearily. The air of Academy City isn't this easy to breathe, and this air lacks the undercurrent of smog and who-knows-what-else due to the rampant urbanization of the modern age. Grunting woozily, Mikoto rubs at her eyes.
And stares once her vision clears. Her ears perk up at the sound of horses' hooves clopping against the cobblestones, replacing the rumbling of engines and beeping of horns so familiar to her. Her eyes widen at the sight of castles and wooden houses and wow is she seriously on a friggin' horse-drawn cart?
Mikoto swallows.
Well, she's definitely not in her proverbial Kansas anymore. All she's lacking is a small black Scottish Terrier and ridiculous bedazzled red shoes. Actually---when the hell did she change clothes? This humble dress wasn't her Tokiwadai uniform.
She frantically starts to look around in a futile effort to try and piece things together. Yet, absolutely nothing was striking her as familiar or jogging her memory as to how in the name of arse she could've possibly arrived here to begin with.
The carriage slows upon reaching a rather imposing-looking fortress. Men---armed men, with rather archaic weaponry---are starting to file out of it, surrounding the cart.
The women, elderly, and children around her are murmuring and shifting in what seems to be excitement, but Mikoto's body tenses.
She slowly rises, electricity briefly sparking by her head.
Holy shit if she's being taken prisoner, they've got another thing coming.
Actually, no, someone should just subdue her before a massacre takes place.]
And stares once her vision clears. Her ears perk up at the sound of horses' hooves clopping against the cobblestones, replacing the rumbling of engines and beeping of horns so familiar to her. Her eyes widen at the sight of castles and wooden houses and wow is she seriously on a friggin' horse-drawn cart?
Mikoto swallows.
Well, she's definitely not in her proverbial Kansas anymore. All she's lacking is a small black Scottish Terrier and ridiculous bedazzled red shoes. Actually---when the hell did she change clothes? This humble dress wasn't her Tokiwadai uniform.
She frantically starts to look around in a futile effort to try and piece things together. Yet, absolutely nothing was striking her as familiar or jogging her memory as to how in the name of arse she could've possibly arrived here to begin with.
The carriage slows upon reaching a rather imposing-looking fortress. Men---armed men, with rather archaic weaponry---are starting to file out of it, surrounding the cart.
The women, elderly, and children around her are murmuring and shifting in what seems to be excitement, but Mikoto's body tenses.
She slowly rises, electricity briefly sparking by her head.
Holy shit if she's being taken prisoner, they've got another thing coming.
Actually, no, someone should just subdue her before a massacre takes place.]
