by LittleMaple » Tue Jun 28, 2022 7:48 am
that last one was a little short and a lol sad so here's something bigger and better!!!!!
Lulu Maybringer. Woman of destruction and love. At least, that’s what all the newspapers say, but I’m here to tell you who she really is. Who am I? Well, I’m no other than everyone’s favorite kick-butt empowerment woman, Lulu Maybringer! I’m here to tell you exactly who I really am, and what I’m really like. Yes, that will include the not-so-savory parts of my life, but you’re tough, right? Great, let’s get started then.
I would consider myself pretty tall, I think I’m around 5’10? I have long, brown hair that my mother always used to be so picky about, which I adore. I have brown eyes with thick eyebrows, one of my eyebrows is split from a large scar I have going from just above it to about the middle of my cheek. I really only have one outfit, my black shirt with a brown, sturdy jacket and black jeans with tall lace-up boots. If I’m not wearing that, then I’m in a plain, old, usually dirty t-shirt and shorts, sometimes with socks, sometimes without. I can get fancy though, and I have a few very lovely dresses that my daughters all helped create, with help from my sister, of course. The only jewelry I wear is a plain braided wire necklace with a pure gold pendant hanging off of the end. My dad made it for me when I was little, and I’ve been careful to keep it close to me since then. I have a hairpin my mother gave me that is shaped like a small comb that fits easily into my ponytails or buns. It's baby blue with pink and purple engravings of flowers on it. No matter what occasion it is though, I’ll always have my obscenely large knife with me. I’ve also got plenty more scars from my Scout work, they pattern my skin in random places, but I do have a few large ones on my back and arms.
When I’m not working as a Scout, hanging out at Sinners’ is the best thing in the world! It’s a great place to unwind after months out on the battlefield, and to hang out with friends and family. People there have described me as laid-back, and cool, with doe eyes, but to be frank I don’t really see it. I seem to pull people in easily, but it’s a double-edged sword. It causes me to attract a lot of jerks, so I just hit them with the good old knife! Not literally, of course, I just start showing it off and talk excitedly about my past battles, just to show them I’m not about to fall head-over-heels for any of them. Sure, it tends to make me more enemies, but that could just be part of my cocky nature. When I’ve had my fill of showing off and joking around with my friends, heading home is like walking into heaven. Usually my sister, Lucy, is cooking dinner. If she isn’t you can be sure she’s down in her lab making something horrible. My niece, Angel, who is like a fourth daughter to me, can be a little reserved, but when she does talk with me in the afternoons, we have fun together and joke around.
Then there’s my daughters, one of the best things to have ever happened to me. I love them more than I have words for, and I’d give anything for them. The youngest, Flower, is such a jokester. She’s always pulling pranks on us all or running around outside. She does have a calmer side though, and is a brilliant artist! Her art is displayed all around the house, and she’s always making more. My middle daughter, Monarch, is all business. She’s very analytical, and accidentally comes off cold or annoyed to new people. She’s actually very sweet though, and can sing like an angel. We’ve always joked that if her business career fails, she could always become a singer, which she doesn’t take kindly to. Finally, my oldest daughter, Octavia. Octavia is quiet, caring, and reminds me of a younger version of myself. She plays guitar like you wouldn’t believe, and used to talk about starting a band with her sisters. Her band dreams haven’t died, and she’s actually found a few people willing to join her on her journey.
The thing that brings all of us together though, is magic. All of us, except for me, can perform magic. Yes, sometimes I wish I was born with the ability to do magic, but I don’t mind letting my daughters have all the fun for me. Flower is most skilled at plant magic, Octavia at the darker side of the arts, Monarch at fire, and Lucy is an expert healer, but is skilled at just about everything. Me on the other hand, I provide charm and wit. I also seem to get us into the most trouble. Lucy can usually get us out of it with her many connections, but sometimes violence is the answer, kids. Don’t actually listen to that advice, I’m a terrible role model.
By now, I can hear you screaming, “What about you, I thought this was supposed to be about the ‘All Great Lulu.’”, which is fair. In all honesty, I’m terrible at talking about myself. There is one thing I can talk about that has to do with me though, with little to no issue, my Scout people! The other Scouts at my different posts are like family to me, and they’re also total idiots. We spend most of our time playing card games and loudly singing bar songs, as long as our enemies can’t hear us. We’ve actually been surprise attacked during one of the songs before, and after defeating and questioning them, we were told our singing gave us away! Our post leader banned singing after that, so I ended up quitting that post and moving to one farther North.
Though some may call me sadistic for it, the fighting part of being at the posts is probably my favorite. I like to think of it as an art, and besides, the people we fight are always in the wrong. Octavia has tried to tell me that that’s actually not true, and a “character flaw”, whatever that is. I don’t really believe her though, no matter how much I love her. Anyway, back to the fighting. I typically fight solo, but if there’s a member at my post that I’m either assigned to or work well with, I’ll team up with them. Lucy, and the different healers at my posts, always scold me for being too dangerous and fearless because I always run into situations even if I know I could get hurt. What they don’t understand is that I do that to protect others from having to. I can trust myself taking on tough enemies, but I worry for my fellow Scouts.
Sorry for getting sappy on you there, but I really do love my post members. When you’re assigned to a post, you stay there your whole life, unless you ask to be removed from it. This tends to make connections you have with the other Scouts at your post very deep, as it did with me. It isn’t just the other Scouts I’m close with, my family and friends are held extremely close to my heart, even if they have died. Every Spirit Moon Festival, when you can send up lanterns to call the spirits home, I can and will spend all night out there. It’s like home to me. Sometimes my family and I will even go to my old village. It can be hard for me seeing the ashes, but it reminds me to not live in the past. I always take a few minutes to meditate and think about what life used to be like before the war and before the Uprising, when everything was peaceful and fighting was rare. I do like to fight, but fighting itself is something that bothers me, oddly enough.
On nights when I’m in town and the girls are all busy with one thing or another, I tend to go out and take walks. I don’t go far, usually just around town and, if I’m feeling confident, I’ll head over to Cherry Tree City. It isn’t really much of a walk, seeing as they practically overshadow us, almost having erased us off the map at times. My favorite place to go is the beach, letting the waves lull me into a warm feeling of safety and letting the cold sand fall in place around me, it’s so peaceful. Second to that only is visiting my friend at the pond, a siren by the name of Amara. She tends to be a little too excitable, but it’s nice having someone to talk about life with.
The repetitive click-clacking of the typewriter stops as I sigh and push my chair back, cringing at the rough sound it makes against the concrete floor. I stand and look at what I’ve written, and I hope it’s good enough for the newspapers before climbing the stars and ascending from the basement. Writing, especially about myself, has never been my strong suit. When the papers asked me to do a section about myself following the most recent, and victorious, battle for one of my posts though, I couldn’t say no. They just told me that they wanted to get a real idea of who I was “behind the curtains”, and that an autobiography style would work for the section. I sighed again, mulling over the idea of ripping up the papers and telling them that I changed my mind, but I shook my head instead and closed the basement hatch below me as I walked into the kitchen. Lucy was out with Angel doing some shopping after an unfortunate growth spurt, while Flower, Octavia, and Monarch were brainstorming art, music, and business plans together. Weird, I know, but I don’t judge my daughters. I grabbed a cinnamon stick and breathed in the strong, sweet taste, letting my mind relax. I could hear bickering coming from where the girls were working, and I rolled my eyes. They loved each other, but could never agree on anything. A knock at the door followed by a gruff voice calling my name snapped me out of my thoughts and I rushed to greet however was here.
When I opened the door, a strong, sad looking man was staring me down with cold eyes.
“Lulu Maybringer?” He asked me, raising an eyebrow at my disheveled state.
“I am she,” I replied, opening the door wider to invite him in.
He lowered his head and shook his hand at me in a refusing motion. “I’m so sorry ma’am, but I’ve been told to make this quick,” He handed me a sealed envelope, with a stamp from a Scout Official. He shook his head before turning and leaving, walking towards Cherry Tree City. I was confused, and worried. A stamp from a Scout Official meant that whatever was in here, it was very serious. I walked over to my couch and took a seat before opening the envelope and quietly reading the enclosed letter aloud,
“To whom it may concern,
Today, April 12th, 20–, coordinates to a previously unknown POW camp holding many Scouts prisoners have been discovered. This letter is calling all available Scouts to come to Scout post 5, to participate in a raid to release the POWs from this camp. You must arrive by April 15th, 20–. Failure to appear will result in severe punishment. Please see Post Leader 5 for details.
May the spirits guide your path,
General Rory”
Oh, oh no, please, no. This- this couldn’t be happening, it COULD NOT. I felt my heart quicken and my vision start to blur. I shook my head and reread the letter at least five times. I couldn’t go on this mission, I just couldn’t. General Rory would understand, wouldn’t she? She’d know I just couldn’t do it, no matter what. Besides the fact that I had extreme trauma from my own experiences in POW camps, the 15th was the day of Octavia’s first live performance. Sure, it would just be in town, but it was a very, very big deal to her. We had painstakingly checked and rechecked that I would be able to attend, and even bribed one of my Post Leaders to send in a false failure to appear due to medical reasons letter to the general so I could go without being punished. I choked back a sob, and put the paper on the side table next to me. I couldn’t miss Octavia’s performance, but who knows what could happen to me if I didn’t appear for the raid. I could be wiped of my status, kicked out of the program, harassed by my post members, or, if the general was especially ticked, killed.
whoof, and this isnt even finished! thank you for reading it, if you did!
i have run through the fields
only to be with youmaple/
scout any pronouns
certified coyote + warrior cats addict
ACS 🌙🌩️
SSG 🌙🌩️
BC/FP 🌙🌩️
HCR