Phoe

Sunshards

Yue has never held a real sword before. Of course she hasn't! Who would have given her one? The villagers have no need of weapons except to chase off the occasional too-bold animal, and a stick is much better for that than a sword, and easier to get to boot. Not to mention... well, haha, this is funny, see? You're gonna laugh when you hear this. But, you know, haha, one time Biao Biao asked her to help him chop some firewood, and um... she, haha, she made it as far as the backswing before she almost took his foot off. Yue has no business holding anything more dangerous than a kitchen knife, that's for sure.

And yet, here she is holding this gorgeous masterpiece of a blade. And it must be a masterpiece, this sword, because it's so obviously Hyra's. How else could it be so beautiful even though it's so bare and unadorned? A-and speaking of bare and unadorned, wouldn't Hyra look just... eep! No! Oh no oh no! Don't think about it, Yue! Don't let your mind wander! Stay focused on the here and the (image of those taut leathers all carelessly discarded and crumpled on the rocks. The spray of the waterfall soaking that quicksilver hair until it clings to the smooth skin like richest cream on her back, standing there in the water just as brazen as can be with that precious little smirk on her face, all of her lit only by the moonlight and...) now!

It's Hyra's sword in her hand. Precious, irreplaceable treasure. The weight of it shocks her. It's nothing at all like her silly, wooden thing, the one she carved and decorated and spent so many hours practicing with even though it felt so silly to do, just because it made her feel more centered. She'd always thought that maybe other swords would feel the same. Maybe balanced differently, or shapely and curved where hers was so straight and simple, but nothing like this. The weight of the blade drags her wrist down toward the ground, like it's pulling her toward Hyra and the battle she's fighting. The blade shines brilliantly around the sapphires and the length of the blade, but around the edges it seems positively dull. Is that right? Is that how such a thing should be? Yue brushes it with her finger, and nearly drops the sword with a frightened yelp as it splits her fingertip open so quickly that the pain doesn't come until after the blood. She whimpers and sticks the wounded finger in her mouth to suck on it. Her feet carry her unconsciously higher into the sky.

But even this, and the shiver of fright that's rooted somewhere in her stomach and keeps sending shivers and trembles all through her body whenever it pleases can't dull the look of absolute wonderment that's shining in her eyes. Who could have ever thought that she, silly little Yue of all people, would live to see a grand battle? This belongs to the poems, and yet... all for her! For her! Look at the way Hyra moves, like she's made of light as she bends and twists and twirls her way through the air in her wonderfully defiant dance that sends demons toppling this way and that without even striking a blow!

Even from here, the curve of her back is something worthy of all the art forms known to man. If she could, Yue would bring a painter here, and a songstress, a sculptor, a woodcarver, a, a, a... well, she just, a sight like this should be worshipped, y'know? What's an awkward, lonely village girl supposed to do to show reverence to those thighs and the sinewy muscles that pump them so beautifully you'd think she was born running? All she's got are her silly sunstones and the clothes on her back, and surely those aren't worth the treasures of Hyra's perfect fighting form?

Yue squeaks, maybe with fright, maybe with delight, maybe just because noises have to come bursting out of her poor overwhelmed heart right now, as she watches Hyra fly and fight and fly. Her arms have that bow bent back with perfect form (surely, yes? She can't imagine anyone could make it look better), and yet, and yet... she never shoots. Why doesn't she let it go? Obviously, because she is a huntress to her core and she won't release that legendary arrow until the shot presents itself that will bring down her foe once and for all with a single strike! Oh gosh! It's so, it's so...

So romantic! How's she supposed to pay this back? Well, she could, she should... in songs, fair maidens (ha! as if!) pay back beautiful warriors (yes yes yes yes definitely yes) with their hearts. And their lips. Yue's are clumsy, b-b-b-b-but maybe if she touched them to those weary muscles after the glory was won, she could, oh! Oh gosh! Oh no oh no oh no oh no!!

Yue's face flushes fever-hot, redder than a pomegranate. She buries her face in her hands (sword hilt and all!) and shyly twists about in the air, floating higher and higher on a string of fantasies without clear shape or purpose. This is a dream. It has to be a dream. She's going to wake up in the morning to Kat's hungry whining and she'll be snuggled up inside her bed just the same as always, just her and her plants and her precious furry friends, nothing different at all just you wait and see, and...

And it'll all be so. So disappointing. Is that fair? She's not a brave warrior-maiden or a special daughter of destiny. She's not a secret keeper of the Zhenren Arts or a fairy or some kind of secret princess. And she's happy with her lot in life, she is! So is it really right for her to hope that this is real? Is it ok to want to be caught up here on the edge of an adventure and get to see it all for herself?

Breathless Dead

The groaning of the Anemoi is more terrible than usual today. The horrors of space crush the thick hulls with enough force to make the ship's cries of pain audible even through the muting effects of its interior. Bella's ears bend toward the sounds to follow them as they roll over her bedroom. It doesn't help that she can tell by the pitch the size of the object and the angle it struck at, or that neither one would be enough to risk the ship's integrity. She could also hear the vibrations that tell her it would only take very slight adjustments in either to crumple the room she's standing into oblivion. It's by the grace of the gods alone that she makes this journey. The thought of how many of them she might have offended sends chills down her spine.

It's been three days since she last slept.

Her right eye socket throbs and forces her gaze toward the mirror. One golden eye stares blearily back at her. The other, painted in bloody red, crackles with power. Where it splits her vision, she sees three paths toward the door from where she's standing, and glowing highlights flashing up and down her body indicating where she's generating the most strength at any given second. Right now, those patches are dulling, in slower and more infrequent patterns than they'd looked the other day. This lack of rest will kill her soon. The Auspex pulses, and the suggested routes move toward her dresser as easily as bending light.

Bella's teeth grind in frustration, but her feet are already carrying her in the suggested direction, shuffling with little of her usual grace. She drags them against the ultra-plush carpet so that her bare toes rip through the fibers with a soft whisper that soothes her ears. Her tail flicks irritably behind her, and she pays no mind to the things it knocks around, even as it bumps into her precious camera and sets it slowly winding into action.

The decanter is in her hands before she knows it. Her fingers tremble as they squeeze the stopper. This is a precious treasure of the Empire. The Princess' perfume is manufactured out of water by the processes of the decanter itself; without it, the peaceful garden with its butterflies and sense of total peace would be lost forever. Bella stares at it with the intensity of a hunting tigress, neither putting it away or lifting her hand to free the scent she knows will give her rest. Her jaw clenches tight enough to break. Her body is almost as rigid as it was when she...

Something hot and wet rolls down her cheeks. They cannot be tears. Something as perfect as the Auspex couldn't possibly be capable of crying. With a tortured animal howl, Bella turns and hurls the decanter at a wall. It shatters into dozens of useless pieces, almost to dust, in an instant. The not-tears turn to awful, choking sobs that wrack her chest with pain.

Nothing seems to survive the storm that follows. Bella's claws rip through baubles and instruments like paper. She tears her bed nearly in half. She cracks open the crystals lighting the room and covers the room in cracked-web shadows. Every bauble she can get a hand around gets thrown into a wall with a yowl and a crash to rival Poseidon's mysteries. Her claws cut through the rest. Every frilly, silly little outfit in her closet, sliced to ribbons. Every decoration brought to set a princess at ease is crushed. She surges back and forth across the room like the tide, and the debris piles up between her. There's no more room to pretend she isn't crying.

And then, silence. Bella wipes messily at her face with the back of one hand, sniffling loudly. Spirals of ruined fabrics, mattress stuffing, glass, and shredded metals form delicate rings around the spot where she sits collapsed in a great heap of misery. The Anemoi groans in pity, and this time her ears don't so much as twitch to meet it.

Her head lolls back onto what's left of her bed. She squeezes her eyes shut to choke down another sob, and all at once her body unclenches. Her arms drop where they are without caring for comfort or bothering to seem some scrap of a blanket. She's a marionette with her strings all cut. Her neck rolls a little further to the side, and this is where she is when her breathing finally slows and she tumbles from the waking world to the place of rest. It's dark, where she goes. No treasured memories rush up to greet her, nor future hopes come to comfort her. But it's enough at least that she can't see those eyes anymore. It's enough to be free of Redana. The Redana who defied her. The Redana who looked at her so coldly. The true Redana, the one who hates her.

Sunshards

"Oh gosh! This is! Are we? Are you? Oh! Wow!!"

Yue shouts and laughs as though she's trying to be heard over a hurricane. It's not really necessary, of course, the air kicked up by her sudden, unexpected flight is no more than a gentle breeze. It tickles her face and plays with her heavy hair, but only enough to gentle wave it a little. A single forget-me-not blows loose from where she'd tied it into her hair: her gift to the demons giving chase below her. She pays them as much mind as she would a dream. There's so much more than them to look at!

How could she be afraid when she's so completely safe and snug? The warmth of Hyra's body shields her from the night chill as she hugs a small tattered blanket close to her own chest until a curious little nose finally pokes it's way out. The three of them make a nesting doll of comfort and contentment. Yue's smile is as dazzled as it is dazzling. Look, Kat, look! Can you believe how much there is to see?!

All her life she'd dreamed of what this would feel like, but never dared to hope she'd find out. The birds she asked were useless, of course. Never ask a bird anything, to be quite honest, but absolutely don't ask them what it's like to fly! Sure, they're masters of the craft. Nobody's arguing that. But they won't tell you what you need to hear. They don't understand. How's a bird supposed to make you understand all the wonder of a thing that's just another chore to them? Might as well ask a child to tell you how wonderful it is to gather firewood, y'know?

But this? This! To her, this is! Oh! OH! You know? The way the blades of grass retreat into rolling green waves like the shores of the Terraced Lake! Who could have guessed? Or how everything has its own shadow even in the moonlight, and the way they dance and bend and follow as you pass over like they're stopping to wave hello! The night air tugging at your dress and tickling your nose even though it's been so still all the day long! And! And, and, oh! Oh!

She never knew. She couldn't have known. It's so beautiful it steals her breath away. To see so much of the river all at once, to watch it wind it's way down the hill, so gently seeking the easiest way there until it feeds into the Lake, where... gosh, wow. There's a whole extra night sky in the Lake, shimmering and rippling on the surface so that the Moon and ever star in her court has a twin brother or sister they can laugh and gossip with all night. And they'll have so much to talk about tonight, won't they?

And still, somehow this isn't even the best part. By far, it's the feeling of the motion itself. It's the steady rhythm of the sprint that dips her almost imperceptibly up and down through the air without ever really so much as considering a return to the soft earth waiting beneath them. It's the way the leather bends and brushes on her skin with every little motion and how it lets her feel the shifting of those powerful muscles and the softness of the skin beneath it as surely as if these feelings belonged to her, as though she could capture them as easily as sunshine and use their powers to create real miracles. And better even than that: the beating of another heart against her ear, so that it pounds its way inside her head and crawls down deep inside her to live in her stomach where the hummingbirds are flitting about and gathering their nectar.

That's how she knows this isn't a dream, see? Maybe she could conjure up the sights and sounds rushing beneath her, if she'd had a particularly nice day and took the time to ask the plants and fish to sing for her while she went about her work. She'd get the details wrong, that's obvious, but she'd get close enough to trick herself for sure. But she could never ever ever, even if you gave her a million years, even if you promised she could be the one to win a dance with Princess Qiu, she couldn't possibly tell you what it felt like to be held like this and feel so deeply possessed by a woman like Hyra. She couldn't imagine Hyra at all.

Yue glances away from the wonders of the world to behold the wonders of her savior. Quicksilver! The hair, the lips, the liquid smoothness of her movement and her impossibly beautiful face. The focus in those enchanting red eyes that maybe doesn't even notice the way that Yue's own blue pools are staring so intently at her. The warmth of this moment nestles in Yue's cheeks, and she shyly looks away.

"You're incredible! You're amazing! You're so... wowies! I've never, uh, I-I mean! Um! Well, I! Th-that is, I never, y'know, said thank you! So... yeah! Thanks! I still don't, um, gosh, wow. I mean, what makes me worth... er, um, n-no, I! Could I? I-is it ok if? Er! Um! Wh-what I mean is, w-would you like, um? Dinner?"

Sunshards

They don't sing songs about the gentle nipping of teeth against your neck. Why don't they sing songs about this? The world needs to know!

The stories always say that the wolf eats the maiden unless she's rescued by some brave, shining hero. Which she always is, but it's still awful and scary waiting to find out! But this is... there's no verse that describes the feeling of fangs nipping at your neck. No stories say anything about how the sharp nick of pain fades so fast and how, when it goes, it starts spreading this incredible, amazing, meltyful, uh... warmth that's just like the hot, steamy breath she's blowing onto your skin, but... but... y'know, more, and and inside 'cause it's seeping down down down into your body!

Where's the carefully penned prose for her to keep on her shelf about the sensation of those long fairy fingers and their beautiful, sharp, black-painted claws lifting her head up, up, up with nothing more than the faintest suggestion of force? They didn't write about how soft it is! How safe it feels! Somebody, please have the imagination or the wherewithal to notice the way a wolf's thumb can brush against your collar bone and all of a sudden your eyelids are going flicker-flicker-blink and you can't stop making these tiny little gasps or pushing up your lips like you're begging the sky to be the one to steal your first kiss! Is she gonna have to do this all herself? Well, fine, but that's a shame. She's really got no talent with words, y'know?

It wouldn't even take a light shove to knock Yue over, just now. Even just the word 'breeze' might be enough to send her tipping, swooning so that those long, strong arms have to catch her, and squeeze her, and hold her tight enough against those leathers for her to find out what they smell like and feel the softness of that chest against her cheeks to find out for herself what whoooooops, there she goes.

"Aish," she trills with very real fake distress, "I guess I'm so tired from running all the way home, ehehe! My legs don't wanna carry me any farther!"

Now, here's the thing. Yue doesn't have a seductive bone in her body. When you grow up in a tiny village with nobody but your family for company most days you don't get a lot of chances to perfect your art. And when your best friend is a cuddly little fox you rescued from the woods when she was just so teeny tiny (the most teeny tiny, to be precise), you don't even get a chance to practice kissing like a normal girl. But her smile is just as soft and sweet as any doe you could hope to meet's, and she's even silly enough to hike her dress up to her knees to show the smoothness of her calves, as if that was somehow proof of how tired and useless they were.

"I think I even twisted my ankle, see? I gueesss, ehehehe, you'll just have to carry me~"

...There are stories, you know. Stories about travelling warriors loyal to crowns, the kind of people who swoop in onto balconies from the tops of bamboo fields to rescue maidens from the wolves nobody's writing about. And those great warriors don't usually get their happily ever after no matter how beautiful and wily the girl they save might be. They've got responsibilities, y'know? princesses or even Princesses to serve and other adventures to have and monsters to slay and many, many, many horizons to cross.

Maybe the point of Sis' old song is that you can't know for sure if you're the moon being chased across the sky or the wanderer running after it to prove her love. Or maybe it's something else, something so smart you'd have to be a sophisticated city-girl just to have a chance at getting it. But right now it doesn't matter, see? Because the pattering of Yue's heart right now is real. The warmth in her cheeks and her chest have to mean something, because nobody has ever come and not-quite-kissed her before or given her all of these new feelings to hold in her arms in any of the years she's walked this earth.

And that feeling. It must be love, right? And love is something you have to follow. Isn't it?

[Yue has become Smitten with Hyra]

Breathless Dead

The air is smothering her. It's heavy staleness tastes miserable on her tongue and feels much too heavy inside her lungs, the misery of holding it matched only by the dissatisfaction of breathing it back out. Dust kicks up with every breath and motion as the room itself criticizes and complains about her attempts to be here.

Her skin and matted fur is all tangled up in the shreds of what had once been a beautiful dress. The shreds flutter when she moves so that the too warm air is pushed against her body over and over like a tiny desert wind, dry and cracking where the dripping of the water pipes had been brackish and clammy, each unbearable in its own way as they work together to sap what's left of her beauty and dignity.

Bella's ears twitch. Omn's dull and scripted explanation is drowned out by another sound that won't stop ringing inside them. It's an old noise. An old memory, attached to nothing. The screaming of that young girl reaches out through the darkness and across time and filling her so completely that she can't help but shiver even in this rusted out, sterile oven.

The memories come flooding up as images, tiny snippets and scenes that she irritably pushes past to get back to the present. The door that she'd sat on her knees in front of for an entire day without caring how far behind on her chores she got even as it stayed resolutely, cruelly shut and kept the girl's screaming trapped on the other side without her. A sweat soaked mop of blond hair that tangled almost as fast as she could brush it. The girl, with her eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched in agony, arching her back in the midst of a seizure and clutching her Bella's fingers to the point of breaking. A shining, perfect, beautiful blue eye where once there had shone nothing but kindness.

The Auspex.

Bella shakes her head and bites her lip. The images and the sounds disappear, leaving only this stuffy room and its perfect eye here with her in the present. She tries to lift her hand toward it, and only then does she notice how rigid and tense her entire body has become, as though someone had struck her with a Thunderbolt without her realizing it and left her there to coil in its fury until her spine snapped in half.

Her breathing is shallow. Her eyes are hollow and hungry. Bella's hand hovers at the edges of the stasis field, and then... she turns away with a shake of her head and a flick of her tail. Her steps ring hollow as she makes her way back through Her Majesty's former lab and toward the door where the screaming will finally stop calling out her name. Just a few paces more, and she'll be free.

Her fingers reach toward her throat. They startle when they touch her bare flesh. Bella freezes where she stands, only more than a statue because of the furious pounding of her heart. Her head turns slowly until her furious golden eye appears over her shoulder.

"How soon can it be made ready?"

She slams the rusting door shut. No interruptions.

Sunshards

"Oh please don't eat me please don't eat me please, please, please don't eat me! Whatever I did, I'm sorry! I'll do anything! Wh-whatever you want! So just, just please, please don't eat me!"

If Yue could sink any deeper into the wall, she would. Anything to put just that little bit of extra distance between her and this silver terror. Unfortunately, it's as solid as it's ever been. Even more unfortunately, it's exemplary wall-like properties are the only thing right now keeping all those scary river-demons from snatching her off to who-knows-where, so she can't even be mad about it! How did she get herself into this mess? Is this because she picked those berries without a permit? Is that a thing? Do you need permits to pick berries nowadays?

She flinches and nearly has her legs knocked out from underneath her as a fluffy green blur zips out from between them, yipping pitifully. Brave little Kat, always so reliable when circumstances are dire, crosses the space between Yue and the intruder in a single bound. And then the next one carries the little fox between her legs too. It only takes her another four scrabbling, panicky leaps to reach the Perfect Ultimate Safety of the moth eaten blanket she won't let Yue get rid of (or fix) and disappears under it, invisible but for the constant trembling of her tiny body. Little traitor! You could have at least been brave enough to go for help, but nooooo!

Yue can't bear to watch, but even still she's too frightened to shut her eyes. Everyone knows you can't look a demon in the eyes or they can cast all kinds of spells on you, but it's just as dangerous to look away from them altogether. But her heart is fluttering so badly she feels like she could faint! It's good enough to just look at that hand, right? It's right by her face, so it's... important t-to... um.

Oh. Oh wow. Why didn't anybody tell her that demons had such beautiful nails? So sharp and... and, what made them black like that? Were they painted? Did they grow like that on their own? But even more amazing are the fingers attached to them: so slender and pale, like moonbeams wrapped around serpents, and... wow. Wow. Gosh. Wow.

In the night air I'll chase you
My Darling, My Darling...

Is this magic? Her heart keeps stuttering like it's forgetting how to work? The air feels all warm, and, and her face feels so hot, and... her eyes! She can't keep from looking, just a bit more. Across the wiry muscles of the arm that's got her trapped, around the shoulder that looks strong and steady enough to carry her weight all by itself, a-a-and... dipping below, where the tight leathers loosen and dip to show soft pillows of moonlit flesh, and around to the body that's so much bigger than hers, and so strong, and yet so... elegant, like with all her power had given her the ability to shape herself however she saw fit, and in her wisdom she'd chosen the natural strength and beauty of the wolf.

Yue swallows, an act made ten times more difficult by the fact that her mouth has completely forgotten how to be anything other than a desert. Her eyes flicker up of their own accord and do the one thing she knew she must never risk. She gazes on the silver orbs set so precisely in front of hers, risking every evil charm she's ever read about in the process. Her frizzy, tired hair chooses this exact moment to go 'flumphing' across her face, which is suddenly burning fever-hot. Her hand trembles worse than Kat as she fights to brush it back out of her eyes without touching the silver wonder in front of her. A goofy smile steals its way across her face, awkward and adorable and showing off almost all of her (much flatter and less impressive) teeth.

She's doomed. Incredibly, horribly, awfully doomed. The stories all agree. Which is definitely, definitely why she can't stop giggling. Right?

"Oh," she stammers, "Um. Well. I g-guess... you could eat me just a little bit. Um. If... if you wanted to. Th-that'd be ok."

Breathless Dead

This is not an act of loyalty.

Bella's bare feet drag heavily across the floor to the sound of her toe claws scraping across the marble before she lifts or plants them fresh again. Her soles slap lazily with every step, the loudest she's ever moved in her life. Her legs are filled with lead, but they move her anyway. Her feet ache dully as she goes, but they bear her weight all the same. Her tail droops limply behind her, much the same as the ears atop her head.

The smell of blood reaches her nose. Her hand lifts toward her mouth on reflex to cover her gagging, but she lets it fall again before it reaches halfway. Her stomach barely bothers to churn this time in any case, so easy to ignore it may as well not be happening. The blood spatters and messes of feathers look muted next to the spots swimming in her eyes. Even OMN, for all the effort she put into polishing it, seems as dull and dusty as if she'd left it to rot for another 300 years. Ugly piece of shit. But even so, it's here.

This is not an act of loyalty.

Too fragile to fight, too useless to run. It's a machine, fulfilling its function like all machines do in that stupid way of theirs. To be loyal it would have to be capable of betrayal. All this stupid toy could do was process and advise, forever and ever, never ceasing and never caring that its client kept changing with the blowing of the winds. Pointless to put her faith in something that could be stolen and turned against her as easily as blinking.

Her right hand clenches into a fist. Her left flexes her claws menacingly, talons flashing in the muted light. Her hollow eyes stare into its burnished surface, watching her reflection with an unreadable look on her face.

"Do you require information?" it dutifully repeats.

Bella clicks her tongue. Relaxing her hand, she stretches her neck and forces herself back to her full height. She tosses her hair back carelessly as she turns her gaze to the paths the others must have taken as they abandoned her to this scrap heap. Loyalty was worth less than shit, anyway.

"That monster that the princess becomes..."

Bella curls and stretches the fingers on her ruined right hand in front of her face, twisting it in the air as though looking for an angle where it didn't show her shame. It squeezes itself back into a fist, and she slams it against the wall with a hollow clang that fills the room with the sound of prayer bells. The aspects of Athena stare into her in all of their varied emotions and degrees of wrath. She ignores them, and returns her attention to Omn. She snarls.

"I need a weapon. One that'd make me stronger than even she is, no matter how much she tries to hide behind Zeus' skirts."

Breathless Dead

"Guh! Au-auugh!!"

Bella's screams are wet, guttural... and muted. Her precious collar bites into her throat as sharply as a dagger, squeezing every attempt at language until it dies and slides back down her throat or dribbles out her mouth as spittle. Her toes strain desperately against the cold floor until they feel like they're about to break under her weight.

But every time they slip or get too tired, she sinks and the chain digs into her chest to crush what little air she's stolen back out of her. This is death. This feeling of being squeezed until the wine in her stomach is forced back up her throat in place of air and her heart slamming like a fist inside her chest until her vision grows dark around the edges, what else could it be but death? She sputters and chokes as her panicked body tries to spit and swallow at the same time, until she finally finds her feet again and lifts herself high enough to rest.

Bella snarls. Bella heaves. Bella does not cry. But she thrashes in her bindings like a lunatic beast. Her leash rattles as if taunting her while it crushes her breasts in ways that send white-hot bursts of pain across her vision and bites into her skin in ways that might take days or even weeks to fade. If they fade. If they don't kill her now, kill her, now, ggghk, nnnnnf!

The pain can't stop her desperate lunging. The Nemean's trap has no hold on her heart while it beats so fast that the rush of blood drowns out every thought except the desire to be free, to breathe and move and stay alive just one, three, ten minutes more. Bella pounds her head against the wall and snarls through the pain as she wrenches an arm free. It flops weakly back down to her side, but she grits her teeth and drags it higher. Her fingers find the links of chain closest to her collar.

She freezes. Her eyes squeeze themselves shut against her will as her trembling fingers trace the metal that binds her to the Empire. Her fingers pray to each link, though she can't think of a god to name or a favor to ask. The worship is enough. Her weak and fluttering touch is all she has to give. Her eyes snap open. They are wet. Her hand clenches into a fist, and where her claws meet the chain they rip through it as easily as carving meat for dinner.

Bella flops to the floor with an undignified thud, surrounded by dull and broken links of chain scattered in lumps and little coils all around her. No thought. No prayer. No feeling anywhere at all. For the moment, all she does is breathe, so ragged and exhausted and desperate. It's an act that swallows her entire being and drowns her in the cosmos of her own will to live. Time passes, meaningless.

She's on her feet again, with no memory of trying to stand. Her shoulders still rise and fall with the exaggerated motion of the weary. She reaches up with her good arm and wrenches the limp one in merciless silence until the shoulder finally pops back into alignment with a crunch and a pop that don't belong to her. That can't.

Her breathing finally quiets to a simple, forceful push in and out her nose. It's the only sound as far as her ears can hear. The only sensations on her body are the phantom serpents of pain still squishing her flat and the brushing of her disheveled, torn, and ruined dress. A strange tingle she can't explain spreads across the small of her back, right where the Nemean held her. It's warm. She shivers.

Bella's expression is unreadable, even if there were someone around to read it. Her eyes watch the shattered remnants of her leash with an intensity that would gives full phalanxes pause. She lifts a hand and lazily tears her collar in half before flinging it to the ground in disgust. Behind her, her tail twitches.

And all that's left is the watching, the endless staring at the torn or broken bits of what had been, of what was, and what might have been.

Alone.

Sunshards

Yue

That's it. Just Yue. Sorry.

The Nature Witch

Daring -1
Grace 0
Heart +2
Wit 0
Spirit +2

LOOK
Eyes: As blue as the surface of the crater lake! <3
Hair: Loooooong and soft and brown like a cup of milky tea. Nice for running fingers through; too frizzy bouncy crazy to brush it up all pretty like the important girls do
Skin: Little bit on the pale side, if we’re honest. Which is weird, almost like the sun doesn’t want to touch it
Body: Fairy tall and fairy thin, the saying goes. Right? Gangly washboard that’s all leg and no charm, Sis says.
Clothing: Flowing white dresses or lacy skirts, delicate shawls to cover shoulders and flowers for fancying up the hairstyle, a well-worn travel bag stuffed with spare clothes, food, herbs, and jars full of precious glass orbs the size of pebbles, Adventuring Goggles (!!) Comfy boots with no socks, the only way to move if you’ve got places to go (and puddles to dance in!)
Sword: A plain wooden saber with a long red tassel at the bottom of the hilt, just for the morning dance and meditations. The blade is adorned down its length with glass orbs lit with soft yellow, pink, and blue lights. Not bad as a channeling medium, even better as a flashlight in a pinch!
Fox: spoiled little flooferdoodle, pale green fur, creamy tummy fluff, little brown vixen-mittens, pointiest little ears, gosh. Answers to Kat, or 'Katherine Isabella Fluffybiscuits' if she's in trouble

MOVES

• Trials if you clear one of these, mark it and take XP, clear a Condition, or take a String on someone involved
• • Befriend someone very different from you
  • Stick up for yourself, though it breaks someone’s heart
  • Trust someone with your secrets, only to be betrayed
  • Win a duel
• Wild Friends when you speak with animals and plants and Influence them with strings like other NPCs. Near your home, or anywhere you have spent a long period of time, animal and plant friends are always nearby when you want them.
• Nature's Touch when you touch someone and let the power of the natural world flow into them, roll +Spirit
  10+: choose 2
  7-9: choose 1
• • They may give you a string on them to clear a Condition
  • They gain the ability to speak with plants and animals for the rest of the scene
  • They must answer a Figure Out a Person question of your choice or take a Condition
• Familiar (Entice) A cute and loyal familiar. You can perceive the world through its senses whenever you choose and communicate with it over any distance. In addition, choose a basic move. Whenever the familiar helps with that basic move or with Emotional Support, take +1 to your roll

TRUTHS OF THE HEART AND BLADE

• Love Conquers All When you’ve become Smitten with someone, say why, give them a string, and answer this question: “What is a clear challenge to being with them that you’re overlooking due to your naivete?”
• Clear-Hearted Insight When you Figure Out a Person during physical conflict, you may additionally ask one of these questions, even on a 6-:
• • “What makes you feel loved?”
  • “What do you hope for the future?”

SMITTEN
Hyra of the Wolves

STRINGS
Gives to:
-Hyra (1)

Has:
-Hyra (1)

EXPERIENCE
[X] [X] [ ] [ ] [ ]

Breathless Dead

If she could run like a champion (like an Olympian), if she could sprint like she was in the arena being screamed at, then maybe Bella's heart wouldn't be ripping itself out of her chest right now. If she could keep her poise, she could pretend this was a contest between equals, and it might not matter that she'll lose.

But the hard marble floor sends shocks through her tendons, and she stumbles. Where she glances over her shoulder, her dainty shoes slip off of the smooth and polished surface and she bounces off the walls until her shoulders feel crushed and useless and her ribs burn like they're being washed in acid and her lungs her lungs her lungs there's no air she needs air why can't she breathe please, please, no, stay away! Stay away!!

She runs until the heels snap off of her shoes: she frantically turns and kicks them at the Nemean, for all the good that does her. Her bare feet make no sound as she bounds away. Her knee buckles, finally breaking her form. She can't be this monster's equal. It was hubris to try. Her lungs scream, her legs burn, her throat makes a constant, pitiable whining sound whenever she tries to breathe. Her body betrays her pride, forcing her lower to the ground. She runs with her arms too, just an animal fleeing the hunt. With every few bounds she rises again and tries to find a sprinter's form, but she comes crashing back to the ground after only a step or two at best.

She can hear the steps behind her, stomps that make her palms and the bottoms of her feet tingle. So powerful that they don't need a shred of a princess' grace to keep pace with a desperate servitor. The horrible singing sinks inside her skull and weighs her down more heavily than any shackle. She can smell the monster coming, a slight tang of sweat wrapped in a thunderstorm that manages to be more fierce and terrifying than Space itself without the need to rage. And, worse, just underneath it, the telltale mark of flowers and laser that means that this is Redana, really Redana after all.

Bella howls with animal desperation. She skids into a corner, out of room to flee. Her body tenses, her claws spread wide. She hunches, waits, and when she slashes...

Agony.

The fingers on her right hand twist unnaturally as the talons wrapped around them shred themselves to useless hunks of scrap metal when they meet the Nemean's unprotected skin. The shriek of space age alloy faltering in the face of a god feels muted next to the sounds of Bella's own labored breathing and the throbbing rush of her blood as it forces itself through her shivering fingers. The final scraps of her talons fall away, and the shame of her imperfection, the scars where her claws were carved out of her, now lie naked in the open air.

Bella's tail wraps itself around her leg. Her eyes shrink in undisguised panic. But she forces herself to stand up straight. She ignores the way her neck still has to crane to see her opponent's face even at her full height. She twists her face until it's defiant and furious. Or, she hopes she does. Every greedy breath she takes needs its own special effort in this place with no space, no air, no hope. Her laugh is shaky and ragged.

"...Kn-knew it," she heaves, "I knew it. H-h-ha! You don't care. Never cared. You wanna p-punish me for being a Bad Girl, huh? That it? Lorventi's gonna tear Alexa in half, but who gives a fuck? If she's... in pieces, she still did her job. Isn't that right? Redana?"