Der Kommissar [Germany/Amelia]

It was another one of her self imposed duties, greeting new Quincy, bringing them into the fold. She could easily have someone else take that role but it suited her purposes. Not only would she be able to become personally acquainted with those brought it, they would then be able to have more complete, personalised files written up about them when Amelia got around to it. She had been notified of the arrival of another person, Kimberly Star who preferred to go by the moniker 'Kim'. Seeing as she had no pressing matters at hand, Amelia headed down immediately following the man who had informed her.

Amelia's eyes immediately scanned over the female the moment she came into view before approaching. Amelia stopped a little ways in front of her and waited for her to remove her earbuds before speaking as well as extending a hand out in greeting.

"My name's Amelia Fiorella Vietti-Thompson, otherwise known as Sternritter Khen. I take it you're Kim?"

With a casual gesticulation of her hand she smiled.

"Welcome to the Order." 

177

Popping a fresh slice of gum in her mouth, Kim relaxed in the chair as her arm flew wildly back and forth, eyeballing the ideal slide positioning for what would surely be one of the sickest Falco covers of all time. Sure, the cover album would be a little predictable, but they were always so damn fun to record, plus YouTube recommended videos could always bring in new fans to the beautiful genre which she oh so loved.

She almost missed the dark haired young woman walking up to her, but she sure as shit didn't miss the guards showing her way more respect than she'd seen them give anyone else. This must be the big cheese, the big boss woman, El Supremo. Shooting up and using inertia to fling her ear buds so they dangled over her back, she shot the younger Quincy a cheeky smile, her lips wavering slightly as she said something that sounded half like a name and half like a dish of pasta. Ain't no way she was pronouncing half of that!

"Yup, that'd be me. Pleased to meet ya!" she said with a smile, her arm stretching out in a handshake. Pausing ever so slightly with her hand outstretched before realizing that her own outfit wasn't the only thing pseudo-military here, she continued raising her arm until it tapped her hat, clicking her heels together for good measure, just like they do in the movies. "Glad to be of service, ma'am," she added on with just a tad too much staccato in her voice.

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Amelia could not help let out infectious laughter. The response from Kimberly felt so out of sorts, it was fairly clear that she was not someone who was used to the sort of environment where, rank and order featured prominently. "Please, you don't have to call me ma'am, it's fine to call me Khen or just Amelia. It sounds so awkward coming from you." Amelia nodded for her to follow her and walked further into the castle, specifically towards her quarters on the third floor. She wasn't silent along the way though.

"I'm always happy to see more Quincy coming into the Order. The times like now are when we should be closer than ever, not divided. What was it that made your decision?" She questioned curiously. It would be an answer both for her curiosity and her yet to be written report on Kimberly Star. The Quincy seemed to be an interesting one, whether it was her clothing, her attitude, her eyes scanning every new thing that she saw or the fact that she carried a trombone with her, the latter being the oddest part about her for the time being. "Actually, answer that question later. Why have you got a trombone with you?" Amelia cocked an eyebrow at her as she asked.

"You might need directions the first few times but this is where I usually reside in the castle when I stay here if you need to find me." Amelia took out a key from her back pocket and unlocked the large door and turned the brass knob and pushed it open. "Take a seat inside. The armchairs are comfy, I promise you." They certainly were as she had fallen asleep relaxing down on them on more than one occasion. The large open expanse was kept immaculate, attributed to Amelia's meticulous tidying habits. Even the papers on the desk in the corner were stacked in neat, organised piles. She took a seat in the opposite armchair with a pleasant smile on her face.

336

"Ah, thank fuck," Kim sighed exhaustedly as the solution to this woman's nightmare of a name presented itself. Cracking a cheeky smirk, she pulled her hand from the hat, abandoning her botched professionalism happily. "Is something like Amy okay, or would that be pushing my luck?" she followed up before shuffling off to keep pace with the much smaller woman. Things were already looking much more relaxed than her parents had warned her of all those years ago. The military and old world aesthetic was very much there, but Amelia certainly wasn't goose stepping down the halls.

And what wonderful halls they were. They’d probably be shit for acoustics, but these Quincy sure knew how to hone in on the cool stuff in their heritage. Kim could dig that, at least for now. If they were going to put her up here, though, she was going to need to put some posters up to add some color to the place. Ain’t no way she’d be able to take waking up every damn day feeling like she was in some medieval movie.

Taken out of her musings on design, Kim prepared to launch into the series of totally-not-excuses that had led her to seek out the Order at long last, but it seemed the Sternritter had other ideas. Holding back a snotty retort, her eyes lit up and she gave a flick of her wrist, snapping her spirit weapon into existence in her right hand, happily saying, "It helps if I ever need to jam and I don't want to bust this bad momma out." Letting the lightly glowing trombone dissipate quickly after her companion had seen it, she shrugged and said with a grin, "Most of the family got bows, but I guess I just had to be the black sheep with this, too."

"I play, actually,” Kim continued, “Professionally. The band just came off tour and well, I guess that’s what led me to sign up.” Their hiatus was a sore subject which she did not care to get into, especially if they did decide to get off their collective asses. Switching the subject, she said, "The folks weren’t too big on the Order, but hey, fuck ‘em. It’s like that Fresh Prince song, you know? Parents just don’t understand.”

Biting her lip as she realized that referencing a song that likely predated her conversation partner might have been a bad idea, Kim hoped sincerely that her display of power would suffice as proof enough of her abilities and that this woman wouldn't be putting her through any physical testing. She wasn’t exactly in the best shape of her life and her Quincy skills were, to say the least, rusty. Her parents were shitty teachers to begin with and she had been an even worse student, possibly the worst one of the family.

Realizing all too late that she hadn't paid any attention to where they had actually been going, Kim could only spare a sheepish look as Amelia caught her in the act of having no idea where she was. She didn’t even remember how many flights of stairs they had been up. There was just so much stuff here that threatened to pull her away. If this had been a tour group, they'd have easily lost her a few rooms in.

Walking in and marveling at the office, Kim suddenly felt even more horribly out of place than she had at the gate. Growing up on a communal farm, you don't see a whole lot of good housekeeping and her only experiences with working spaces this clean and tidy had been at the occasional 4 star hotel the band decided to splurge on. This place made those accommodations look more like the stranger's couch she was far more used to waking up on. Careful not to knock anything over, she slid up next to one of the armchairs Amelia had gestured toward and sat in it delicately, resting her instrument gently on the side. She was right, these were some really comfortable chairs.

Hoping to prevent any awkward silence, Kim started talking almost as soon as Amelia was seated. Leaning back in the chair and giving a roll of her right shoulder, she looked at the other woman and said, "Anyway, as I was saying, I just figured I might as well try and do something more with my life, ya know? I mean, if I can do this kinda stuff, why shouldn’t I give it a go?”

WC: 751/1,627

Chortling, Amelia waved her hand dismissively. "Amy is fine. Call me what you like in private, Kim." She cocked a curious eyebrow at her spirit weapon. Since Amelia truly became a Quincy, she had seen countless manifestations of spirit weapons from bows and guns to gauntlets and swords, a trombone however was a first for her. It was not surprising to be called a black sheep amongst Quincy when your signature weapon was a musical instrument, a trombone nonetheless. It seemed that she had a rather interesting one on her hands here. Given Amelia's nature, she was happy to have another bubbly figure around her to lighten up the mood around the place.

"I figured you played as well, I mean I don't think there's many people out there with a hobby of collecting trombones for the sake of it." She chuckled, amused by their little conversation. "I play the piano and violin myself actually, not for a band though. I'll have to have a listen to your stuff at some point. Can I find it on Spotify?" 

The fact that her family were not sold on the Order was nothing new to Amelia. Whilst they commanded a large portion of the Quincy, not everyone was willing to fall in line despite their shared interested. Whether it was trust, ambition, personal freedoms or grudges, there were those who did not wish to throw their lot in with the majority. It was one of Amelia's goals to change the mindsets of the remaining Quincy, especially given the current climate and the state of affairs with the other races and organisations out there that undermined the protection they brought to the mortal plane. "Hopefully they will come to understand soon..." Her quiet words were all she spoke on that particular matter.

"Why not indeed? That's a pretty straightforward way to put it, I like it." Amelia nodded approvingly. "My case was a bit special. Although I was somewhat forced into the position I am in today I'm satisfied with the way things have turned out, I wouldn't change it." She paused for a moment before letting out a somewhat dry laugh. "Actually that's a lie. If I could undo getting 'impaled' by a Hollow I'd happily change that particular bit..." With a grim smile, Amelia's lifted the bottom of her shirt up to reveal the unfortunately large scar on her otherwise toned abdomen from the incident that forever changed her fate. "I was powerless at that point in time. To be fair, it's a miracle that I'm alive here talking to you after that but I was lucky enough to have survived." Luck was a tame way to put it, the overseers of life and death probably still could bot believe the audacity she had in keeping her life that day.

"Things aren't easy at the moment, Kim. We're consolidating our strength to do what we can but we have a lot of enemies as always. I'm not sure how much you know about the state of affairs at the moment but I can give you an overview now if you'd like.That aside I'm curious to know about what you can do." Grinning, Amelia added. "So long as you can actually fire an arrow, tie your laces properly I'd take you under my wing as one of my Knights." Amelia had taken a liking to Kim already.

565

"Hell yeah we are! I could hook you up with some of the physical albums if you want, too. We had some of the guys who did the rock album art from back in the day design most of the covers, too. You know, the good stuff," Kim enthused as they walked on, stopping to clarify after remembering her surroundings, "We don't exactly play classical music, fair warning."

She whistled at the scar on Amelia's abdomen. Kim had her own, but the Cesarean she needed for the twins hardly stacked up to what she was looking at. In truth, she'd never really faced any serious combat with Hollows, what with her family keeping her safe as a child and her adult life keeping her moving so much. She'd seen them, but the actual fighting had always fallen on someone else's shoulders.

A lesser woman would have stood up and walked on out at that moment. Right in front of her was a very clear reminder of exactly what she was signing up for. Kim wasn't having any of that, though. Amy couldn't be much older than her eldest child, and she had already risked and apparently nearly given up her life. What kind of wuss would she be if she'd let someone who probably hadn't even been able to see Nirvana perform live one up her?

Kim sat as still and seriously as she could as Amelia gave her a brief rundown on the current status of the Quincy and discussed the possibility of knighthood. Her mother had nothing but bad things to say about the Quincy's brown shirts. Flashing her teeth in a smile as she imagined goose stepping onto the family farm, she admitted, "Drug addled hippies are, as you might imagine, pretty shitty teachers. I've been trained, but I'm not going to lie and say it was particularly good training, or really that recent."

She felt herself blushing, a bizarre timidity threatening to overcome her. It wasn't good to be admitting that she was weak. What if they kicked her out? How could she live with herself then? Quickly piping up and silencing the fear inside of her with bold words, she said, "But I've always been a quick study! I mean, I've been training my whole life to fight thanks to what my weapon is, in a way." Clicking her boots together as she found more certainty entering her voice, she added, "I did manage to tie these up, too, and those were some pretty long laces!"

Giggling a bit at her own joke, she remembered the most important part of the whole thing Amelia said. Technically, Kim did meet her qualifications. Hopping up from her seat, she walked over to the side of the Sternritter's chair. "So like, I'm guessing I kneel for this then?" she asked before dropping to one knee and looking up hopefully.

WC: 481/2,108