Crossark

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Cynn Ellime
Cynn felt slightly violated by Pitch's stare, but she was more annoyed that he hadn't listened to her at all, choosing to rant about his own masochism instead. For once, however - though it was unknown to her at the time - she didn't feel empty and sad. It wasn't that big of a step up, but it was one.

Anyhow, the young elf was pretty angry at the man in front of her. She repeated her question with a much more determined and bitter tone, not noticing that she had gone back to covering up one of the scars on her left arm.

"I said," Cynn began, "How long have you studied at the College. I've been...out for a bit, and you're the first person I've met upon returning, so... I'd just like to know, okay?"

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

[[snip]]

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Crossark (User:Talk) 10:26 PM 7 December, 2014 - Reverted 1 edit by Crossark: Copyediting. Possible Vandalism.

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Cynn Ellime
The young elf smiled a tired smile. "At this point, Pitch," she began to answer, "I'm not sure I could do anything anymore. But before I...well, before, I was a Geomancer."

Cynn couldn't help it; she had started to think about before she had entered her coma. She remembered the dining hall in shambles. She remembered standing in front of a masked man, holding her rapier. She wondered where her rapier had gone; she'd have to look for it later, she thought. She remembered being cut and cut by the man for what seemed like hours, never losing faith that she could stop this...murderer. He was a murderer, and she knew that she could take him, either by one way or another. It wasn't the confidence that she had exhibited a few minutes ago, but something different.

Suddenly, she became conscious of her scars. There was the one on her throat from when she'd been ambushed in the woods. It was old, and she paid no real mind to it. Then there were three on her right forearm, and two on her right hand; those made sense, as the murderer probably tried to get her to drop her weapon. Moving that hand left, she felt four more keloids on her lower abdomen and two higher up, with one of those two in the middle of her chest. The puncture scars were easier to find. There were five of those; one where one blade of the masked killer had run through the outside of her left arm; one on the front of her right shoulder; one on her left thigh, and two on her right. Cynn didn't feel shame at the scars. If anything, they filled her with a sense of triumph to know that she had survived that. It wasn't enough to make up for now having to play catch-up with everyone else, but it was something to start with.

Noticing that she must have looked like she was feeling herself up, she jerked her right arm away from her leg and placed it back on the table. Her cheeks flushed red, which was more pronounced when viewed in conjunction with her white hair, despite how dirty it might be. She looked at pitch and tried to talk, but it seemed her social ineptitude had finally caught up to her.

"So, P-Pitch..." she began, cursing herself mentally. "How...long have y-you...studied at this Co-College?"

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

And, with Free's latest post, Locas turned in his grave.

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Just gonna...
Post here...
Y'know...
Keep it alive...

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Cynn Ellime
Cynn peered over the top of her arms at the man who sat in front of her. He hadn't told her who he was, but at least he seemed to be trying to cheer her up a bit. For a moment, at least, it kind of worked, but she wasn't over this stint of sadness quite yet. However, there was no reason in crying anymore, so she wiped away the tears and sat up straight.

"So," she started. Her voice faltered, and she had to start over again. "So, who are you? I didn't see you before... Well, never mind that." She was trying to avoid saying it flat out; she was worried it would send her over the edge again. Hopefully the human wouldn't notice. As sort of an afterthought, she added, "What Blood do you have?"

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Is anyone online?

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Been a while since I did this, but here's looking at you, Lucius.

*drum roll*

Butts.

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Cynn Ellime
Looking up at the man, Cynn was astonished. Given her new, longer hairstyle, this man looked like a slightly older, male version of herself, though she supposed that didn't matter. She still had no clue who he was. She was still a relic from the past.

The young elf wiped away some of her tears. A relic from the past...she liked that analogy. The gears in her mind started spinning, distracting her from her existential crisis for a moment. She was a relic, an old, unused tool that didn't have a place in the new and improved world that she had been brought into. No, that wasn't quite right. Artifacts could provide those in the new age with a history lesson, at the least, or maybe a starting point for improvement. Sometimes - even if those times were few and far between - they could even be the last piece of a puzzle. Even more rarely, they could actually be better than the technologies that already existed. Indeed, Cynn thought, to move forward, one first needed to look at where they'd been.

But maybe that was just wishful thinking. She had just been thrust back into a world after being long-removed, after all. It would be helpful to be reassured that, against all odds, she could still be worth something to this world. Her distraction from her predicament had been fun, but now it was fading. She felt the tears welling up again, pressing against her eyelids, but she tried to blink them away as she turned her attention back to the man in front of her.

"Why are you talking to me," she asked the man. "You don't even know who I am. Why would you worry about me at all?" Cynn noticed that she'd kind of spat the words at the man, and she felt kind of bad about that. In fact, it almost sent her back into a sobbing fit, so she shoved her head back into her arms. No tears came, though. Maybe she'd been dried out, or maybe she just didn't care; she felt it was probably more of the second.