Qia

Umbra: The Abyssal Connection

A

_{Mentions: VV-@Estylwen}

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A’s heart dropped into her stomach as Vin’s man grabbed her and pulled her in front of him. The rough grip of their hands on her arms sent a jolt of pain through her, but she bit her lip to keep from crying out. The realization that she was being used as a human shield sent a wave of fear through her, but she forced herself to stay calm. She couldn’t afford to show weakness now, not when so much was at stake. Her mind raced, trying to formulate a plan even as her body trembled with adrenaline.

She glanced at VV, who was watching in horror and gave her a subtle nod, trying to convey that she was okay. VV’s eyes were wide with fear, but A hoped her gesture would provide some reassurance. A’s mind raced, assessing the situation with a clarity born of desperation. She could sense the pulsing hearts of Vin’s men around them, their adrenaline spiking as the tension mounted. The strange rush of blood from the massive Wild and the hidden heartbeat added to the complexity of their predicament, making her head spin.

Stay calm, she thought to herself, the words like a mantra, a desperate attempt to keep her thoughts clear and focused. She needed to think clearly and find a way out of this. Every second counted, and she couldn’t afford to let fear cloud her judgment. Her eyes scanned around herself, searching for any possible escape route or advantage.

Vin’s voice boomed as he yelled at Izaac, threatening to blow up the building. The sheer volume of his rage was like a physical blow, making her flinch involuntarily. A’s eyes darted to the building, trying to catch a glimpse of her potential ally, hoping against hope that they were on the same side.

She did not have to wait for long as this person stepped out, apparently—and thankfully—not willing to take the shot with her there. Relief washed over her, but it was fleeting, replaced quickly by a renewed sense of urgency. She watched the exchange between him and Vin, her heart pounding in her chest. Every word, every gesture was a potential trigger for disaster.

What A did not expect, however, was for that danger to come in the form of the Wild’s sudden rush towards the building sending a wave of panic through the group. Vin’s men shouted in alarm, their weapons trained on the massive creature. A could sense the pulsing hearts of the men around her, their adrenaline spiking as the situation escalated.

But the moment also offered her something important. A chance.

While Vin’s attention was momentarily diverted by the Wild’s attack, A focused her energy, using her Hemorrhage ability to create a distraction. She locked eyes with one of Vin’s men, the one holding her, and concentrated. She could feel the blood flow in his body, the pulse of his heart. With a surge of effort, she triggered a nosebleed, causing him to stagger back in surprise and loosen his grip on her.

Umbra: The Abyssal Connection

@Estylwen oh thank you haha

Umbra: The Abyssal Connection

Yes same here. Aiming to get a reply out tomorrow hopefully

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

Harper wandered through the hallway, her footsteps soft against the hardwood, each step a gentle tap in the quiet. The house was still, the kind of stillness that made her feel like she was the only one awake in the world, though the sun hadn’t yet dipped to put itself to sleep. The shadows in the corners seemed to stretch and yawn as if they too were waiting for the coolness of night. It was a sweltering summer evening, and the idea of a cool, sweet dessert made her mouth water, a small joy that seemed just within reach. So, she’d gone in search of something simple, an innocent treat—ice cream, a delightful thought that made her smile.

She could almost taste the creamy sweetness, feel the coldness on her tongue, a sensation that promised a brief escape from the heat. The air was thick and stifling, clinging to her skin like a damp cloth, making each step feel like a small victory. Her mind was filled with the anticipation of that first bite, the way the ice cream would melt slowly, leaving a trail of sweetness. The kitchen seemed like a world away, however, a distant land where her simple wish could come true.

But all the 13-year-old girl needed to do to get what she wanted was reach the kitchen.

As Harper reached the end of the hallway, the sound of muffled voices pulled her out of her daydream. She paused, her hand hovering over the door frame, the voices tugging at her curiosity like an invisible thread. They were coming from the living room, low and urgent, and she recognized them immediately—her father and Sierra. It wasn’t often that they argued, but when they did, it was usually over something serious, something that made the air feel heavy.

She hesitated, torn between continuing her innocent quest for ice cream and the instinct to eavesdrop. The tension in their voices was palpable, even through the slightly ajar door, and Harper’s heart began to beat faster, each thump echoing in her ears. She inched closer, careful not to make a sound, as if the quiet of the hallway would protect her from whatever was happening on the other side. The cool promise of ice cream seemed to fade, replaced by the urgent need to understand what was causing the discord. Her breath caught in her throat as she strained to hear, the hallway suddenly feeling like a fragile bridge between her world and theirs.

Suddenly, the argument escalated, the tension in the air snapping like a taut wire. Sierra’s voice, sharp with frustration, cut through the air, each word a dagger that seemed to pierce the stillness. Harper’s breath caught as she heard Sierra’s biting words, each one laced with a venom that made her shiver. “You’re not fooling anyone, old man! What, did you think you could just replace us with a new freak family? You’re just a big fucking liar and—”

Their father’s deep, authoritative rumble interrupted, his tone carrying the weight of absoluteness. “Now you watch your tone with me, young lady. This ain’t your concern. What’s done is done, and we don’t talk about it again.” His voice was like a wall, firm and unyielding, a command that brooked no argument. It made Harper grip the doorframe tighter, for she knew exactly what it was like to be on the receiving end of that commanding voice.

Yet somehow…somehow this time was different.

Sierra’s voice cracked with anger, a raw edge that made Harper’s stomach twist. “Does Harper know about any of this? Maybe I should tell her. Just so she knows what a lying piece of shit you are!” The words were like a slap, each one hitting Harper with a force that left her reeling. What did she mean by that? What did she not know?

As if in answer to her question, the sound of something shattering on the floor reached her ears, a sharp, jarring noise that made Harper’s heart race. It sent a shockwave of fear through her, and she flinched, her small hands clutching the doorframe, the wood cool and solid under her trembling fingers. Her curiosity battled with a growing sense of dread, each emotion pulling her in opposite directions. She peeked around the corner, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to make sense of the scene unfolding before her.

In the next moment, Harper saw her father’s hand connect with Sierra’s cheek, the slap echoing with a harsh finality. Sierra stumbled back, her hand flying to her face as tears welled up in her eyes, the shock and pain evident in her expression. Harper’s heart lurched, disbelief flooding her senses. She felt frozen, her small frame pressed against the doorframe, unable to tear her eyes away.

Her father had never struck them before, the very sight of it bringing up memories of that night. Her terrifying nightmare.

Sierra’s eyes were wide with hurt, her cheek already reddening from the impact. The tears that welled up in her eyes seemed to shimmer in the dim light, a silent testament to the pain she felt. Still, Harper could see the defiance in her sister’s gaze, a fire that refused to be extinguished despite the harsh blow. The room seemed to hold its breath, the silence weighty and oppressive, as if the very walls were absorbing the intensity of the moment, waiting for the next blow to come. Harper’s own eyes stung with unshed tears, the need to stop whatever this was clamped down. Something told her it would be a terrible idea.

Their father’s controlled voice, cold and unyielding, cut through the air like a blade. “Now, don’t y’all ever use that tone or language with me again. I’m still your daddy, and none of what you think you know changes that.”

And with that, Harper found herself huddling in the nearest corner, her haven, as her sister rushed out of the room, her cheeks now streaked with dampness. She tried to appear as inconspicuous as possible with her small frame, but with no success as Sierra’s eyes met hers for a brief, aching moment, a silent exchange of pain and understanding. But she said nothing and continued down the hall, Harper’s small hands clutching at her knees while her body curled into itself even further.

Eventually, when she could, Harper moved, peeking around the corner once again. She saw her father now bending down to pick up the picture frame that had shattered earlier. She watched as he carefully collected each jagged piece of glass from the floor, his movements slow and deliberate, his expression one of deep weariness. In that quiet moment, he seemed just as broken as the item he attempted to fix.

His paragon of strength painfully human.

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_{Location: Strigidae Dorm - Pacific Royal Campus}

Dance Monkey #4.023: Infallible

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_{Interaction(s): Sierra (Supporting Cast), Haven-@Skai}

Previously: A Heart's Fine Print

Harper sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers gripping the compact mirror tightly as she watched Sierra’s steady hand approach her eye. The room was softly lit, the warm glow from the nearby lamp on her desk casting gentle shadows on their faces, creating an intimate cocoon of light. Harper’s heart raced slightly, nervousness bubbling within her as the eyeliner brush neared her eyelid. The scent of Sierra’s floral perfume wafted through the air, but it did nothing to quell the brunette’s anxiety.

A brush was no scalpel. Yet still her body shook from the memory. The sterile smell of the hospital and the sharp, sterile light all came rushing back.

Harper’s breath hitched, her mind momentarily trapped in the past. She blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the haunting images, focusing instead on the warmth of the room and the comforting presence of her sister. Not the clone she’d killed to survive, to live.

“Hold still, Harper. You keep blinking,” Sierra chided gently, her tone more teasing than annoyed. Harper’s lips twitched into a small smile, trying to focus on a spot on the wall, willing her eyes to remain open. The sensation of the eyeliner brush gliding across her skin sent a delicate tickle through her, one she fought to ignore. All the while, Sierra’s brow remained furrowed in concentration as she perfected the line, and Harper couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude for her sister’s patience and skill. Especially the latter, which she lacked.

“Just a little more,” Sierra murmured, oblivious to the storm raging inside her. “You’re doing great.”

Harper could feel the sweat forming on her palms, making the compact mirror slippery in her grasp. She nodded nonetheless, swallowing hard as she fought to keep her eyes still, her lashes fluttering involuntarily with each brushstroke. The effort to remain calm was immense, her muscles tensing with the strain of holding back her fear. She wanted to tell Sierra, to confide in her, to let her know how much this seemingly simple act was costing her. The words hovered on the edge of her lips, but they refused to come out, trapped by the fear of seeming weak, or worse, of reliving the past.

You know, perhaps it’s time those lovely eyes of yours served a better purpose.

A beat.

And then.

The final stroke was made, and Sierra stepped back, examining her work with a critical eye. Harper watched her sister’s face, searching for any hint of doubt or dissatisfaction. And maybe a shade of something else.

“There,” Sierra said with a small, satisfied smile, her eyes lighting up with pride. “All done.”

Harper blinked a few times, feeling the slight weight of the makeup on her eyelids. The sensation was foreign, almost like wearing a mask, a thin veneer that both concealed and revealed parts of herself. She glanced at her reflection in the compact mirror, noting how the delicate lines of eyeliner accentuated her features, giving her eyes a depth that felt both empowering and unsettling. The transformation was striking, yet it couldn’t hide the remnants of fear still lingering in her eyes, a shadow that hadn’t quite left.

“Thanks,” Harper whispered, her voice thick with emotion, each word a struggle to push past the lump in her throat. She wasn’t sure if Sierra noticed the tremor in her tone, but her sister’s smile widened, a beacon of warmth and reassurance. Sierra playfully ruffled Harper’s hair, then stepped away to put the makeup back in its case.

“Don’t mention it. You look great, by the way. You’ll knock ‘em dead at the dance,” Sierra said, a teasing lilt in her voice. Harper tried to absorb her sister’s confidence, but the words felt like they were bouncing off a shield of anxiety. She forced a smile, the muscles in her face feeling stiff and uncooperative.

“I hope so.”

Sierra paused, catching something in Harper’s tone, her brow furrowing slightly. The concern in her sister’s eyes was unmistakable, a silent question that Harper wasn’t ready to answer. But instead of pressing, the redhead offered a reassuring pat on Harper’s shoulder, the warmth of her touch a small comfort. “Just have fun tonight, okay? Embrace your…inner pretty woman.”

Harper blinked.

“You want me to embrace my…inner hooker?”

Sierra burst out laughing, the sound filling the small room. “Okay, maybe not that part. But the confidence, the charm—think of the makeover scene!” She grinned, nudging Harper playfully. “You know, the part where she walks into those stores like she owns the damn place.”

Harper couldn’t help but smile, the tension easing slightly. “I guess that was a pretty good scene,” she admitted, her mind flickering back to the movie night with Aurora. The two had ended up watching not just one but two of her favourite rom coms: Pretty Woman and 13 Going on 30 (mainly for Mark Ruffalo). “She really does nail that whole transformation thing, doesn’t she?”

“Exactly! You don’t have to be a hooker, Harps. Just…own it,” Sierra replied, her tone brimming with encouragement. “ We Baxter women are anything but mediocre. You’ve got more going for you than you think.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Harper said, her voice softening, the confidence from moments before slipping away somewhat. “But not everyone who looks strong on the outside really is.” Which was a fragile truth that she had been grappling with since her conversation with Calliopé. Her eyes flickered to the mirror, seeing not just the reflection there but the person she truly was under all the makeup still. The girl the trials had resurfaced.

Sierra caught the shift in Harper’s tone, her playful demeanor fading as concern took its place. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice gentle, probing but not pushing. The question was simple, yet it carried the weight of their shared history, the unspoken understanding that had always existed between them.

“It’s just… I mean, people change, right? Or maybe they were always different than we thought,” Harper began, glancing at Sierra. “Like in the movies—sometimes the person who seems perfect is really hiding something. Better yet, they may not even be the way others see them.”

Sierra’s expression grew more serious, the lighthearted banter from earlier now replaced by a quiet intensity. “We’re not…talking about the movies anymore, are we?”

Harper looked down, her thumb tracing the edge of the compact mirror, the cool metal a grounding presence in her hand. She hesitated, the words thick in her throat, each one a struggle to voice. “I’ve been thinking about them a lot. Well, actually, mainly just Dad.” The admission immediately felt like both a release and a burden. “About how we saw him. How I saw him.” Sierra stayed silent, Harper too afraid to look up to meet her eyes to see why but forcing herself to.

“Maybe we just couldn’t see the cracks…because there was a part of us that didn’t want to.”

Sierra’s hand tightened slightly on Harper’s shoulder, a flicker of something unreadable passing through her eyes. “No, Harper,” she said, her voice low and edged with frustration.“You couldn’t see the cracks. But I did. I saw everything, and I protected you from it...like I always have.” Her gaze hardened, her tone more insistent now. “I knew about his secrets. About the things he tried to hide. You were too young, too… sheltered to see it, and I made sure it stayed that way. I didn’t want you to lose that image of him. But I’ve always known who he really was.” She paused, her gaze shifting to Harper’s laptop on the desk then back to her. Her eyes bore into Harper’s, the intensity of her gaze a mirror of the pain she had carried for so long.

“And now you do too.”

Here, her voice dropped to a sad, almost resigned whisper that Harper almost missed, the words barely audible but heavy with meaning.

“You’re already so much like him.”

Another beat. The silence stretched.

And then.

Nothing.

Harper wanted to counter that point, to argue that she was different, that she wasn’t destined to repeat their father’s mistakes. But try as she might, the lie wouldn’t come to lips. Even she had thought the same, had seen the similarities in herself that she wished she could deny.

Even now, she’d eagerly accepted betrayal’s hand.

Even now, she embraced it like an old friend she hadn’t seen in some time.

Desperate to escape the suffocating truth, she shifted the subject. The words tumbled out in a rush, a frantic attempt to find solace in the mundane.

“So, will you be there too? The dance?”

Sierra’s expression shifted, momentarily taken aback by Harper’s sudden change of topic. She looked over at Harper’s desk, where her laptop sat plugged in, the screen dark but the power light glowing softly. Then her gaze returned to Harper, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips.

“No, probably not. I’ve got quite a bit of reading to do,” she said. “But you already know that.”

Harper watched as Sierra walked over to the desk and unplugged the charger from the wall, then picked up the laptop. Her sister’s movements were methodical and almost detached, each action precise and devoid of emotion. The room seemed to grow colder with these motions, the warmth of their earlier conversation evaporating into a heavy silence that chilled Harper to her core.

As Sierra turned toward the door, she paused, her eyes lingering on Harper with an intensity that was unsettling. It was as if she was searching for something unsaid, a silent plea for understanding that Harper knew she couldn’t give—at least, not now.

Sierra shook her head slightly, dismissing whatever thoughts had crossed her mind. She opened the door and stood there, her gaze fixed on something outside that Harper couldn’t see from where she was.

“What is it?” Harper asked, rising from her seat and making her way toward the door. The air seemed to thicken around her, the silence pressing in with each step she took. As she reached the doorway, she noticed the gritting of Sierra’s teeth and the frown that deepened on her brow, her expression tight with restrained emotion.

Harper followed her sister’s line of sight and felt her heart plummet into her stomach.

“Oh…hey…Haven.”

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

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_{Location: Strigidae Dorm - Pacific Royal Campus}

Dance Monkey #4.021: A Heart's Fine Print

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_{Interaction(s): Sierra (Supporting Cast), Aurora-@Melissa}

Previously: Crossroads

Harper fluffed the pillows on her bed meticulously, her fingers sinking into the soft fabric as she arranged them just right. She smoothed out the blanket, ensuring it was perfectly draped over the bed, creating a nest of comfort. The room was bathed in a warm, inviting glow from the string lights she had artfully, or so she thought, hung around the room. Each tiny bulb twinkled like a star, casting gentle shadows that danced on the walls, making the space feel like a cozy haven. Believing she was finished, she took a step back, admiring her handiwork and feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over her.

That sense of satisfaction lasted all of five seconds as she saw a blur of red practically dash beside her, leaping and landing on the bed with a bounce.

“Ugh, finally!” Sierra exclaimed, her voice filled with relief as she tore open a bag of chips from the bowl on Harper’s desk with casual abandon. The crinkle of the bag and the crunch of each bite filled the room, each sound grating on Harper’s nerves. She had worked so hard to create a peaceful, inviting atmosphere, and now it was being shattered by the noisy, boisterous presence of her sister. The sister that she had, admittedly, called upon. But still.

Harper’s usual scowl appeared on her face as she watched Sierra munch away, crumbs scattering on the freshly smoothed blanket. The sound was like nails on a chalkboard to the brunette’s ears, frustration building up within in seeing all her efforts being undone in an instant.

“Seriously?” she said, folding her arms across her chest, her voice tinged with exasperation. She glared at the other woman, who seemed completely oblivious to the disruption she was causing. Or perhaps she was simply ignoring her. Either way, she needed to go.

“You know,” Sierra said between bites then, her mouth half-full, “you’re seriously overdoing it. It’s just a movie night, not a royal ball.” She took another chip, chewing thoughtfully. “I mean, look at this spread,” she waved a chip around dramatically, “it’s like you’re hosting a five-star feast. I’d almost think you were trying to impress someone.”

Harper’s scowl deepened. “It is not! And do you mind not messing up everything I just set up, please?”

Sierra shrugged, still munching away. “Oh, come on, Harps. It’s just a bed. I’m sure Aurora won’t care if there’s a crumb or two.”

Harper sighed, her shoulders slumping.“Well, I do. I wanted it to be nice for her.”

Sierra took a final, exaggerated bite and crumpled up the chip bag, tossing it casually aside with a flick of her wrist. The bag landed with a soft thud, adding to the mess that Harper had been so desperate to avoid. All the while, the redhead’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she gave Harper a teasing smile, clearly enjoying the reaction she was provoking.

“You know, my life does not, in fact, revolve around you, baby sister,” she said, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. Harper’s eyes narrowed as she watched her sister stretch her arms above her head, each movement languid and unhurried, as if she had all the time in the world. The casualness of it all irritated her, her fingers twitching with the urge to straighten the blanket once more. But what could she do, really? Her big sister was always going to be herself, through and through, a trait that Harper found somewhat admirable at times—even envied a little.

This was not one of those times.

“I’m going to go do something less… extravagant now,” Sierra continued.And with that and a mock salute, she got up and sauntered out of the room before Harper could retort, leaving the brunette to deal with the mess and her own simmering frustration.

A girl’s night was exactly what Aurora needed after her rollercoaster of a day.

She was looking forward to having the chance to sit back, relax and not have to put up a front or a smiling facade around her best friend. To simply just live in the moment and be present instead of mulling over things she couldn’t control. Her mind had been riddled by an endless inner monologue since the morning, she’d been hemming and hawing over the decisions she’d made that had brought her to this point, so it was an understatement that she was looking forward to something else to fill the void.

Although the redhead had attempted to get her mind off what had occurred at the infirmary, she’d still instinctively been checking her phone all afternoon, silently hoping that Lorcán’s name would miraculously pop up on the screen, but it didn’t. It seemed he’d made his choice, and that was something she’d be forced to live with. As much as it hurt, she couldn’t be mad at him, and she’d need to learn to be supportive of… whatever was going on with him and Amma.

As Aurora approached the front door of the Strigidae Dorm, she reached to pull the handle in order to enter, but it escaped her grasp as someone exited, nearly plowing into her unintentionally. Quickly side-stepping to avoid a collision, she apologized to the girl who was headed out, her hair a similar shade of crimson to her own. Walking into the dorm, she made the familiar trek up to Harper’s room and knocked on the door, rocking back and forth on her heels as she waited to be let in.

Harper stood in the middle of her room, staring at the remnants of Sierra’s casual mess—the chip crumbs scattered across the blanket and the crumpled chip bag tossed aside. The sight of the disarray gnawed at her, each crumb a tiny reminder of her sister’s carefree intrusion into her life. The warm glow of the string lights, which had once felt inviting and cozy, now seemed almost taunting against the backdrop of her aggravation.

Taking a deep breath, Harper’s hands moved almost automatically as she began to gather the debris, her fingers deftly picking up each crumb. All the while, she muttered to herself, her exasperation bubbling to the surface. “I just wanted to make it nice. I really did,” she whispered, shaking her head. The crumpled chip bag was next, and she tossed it into the trash with a bit more force than necessary. She quickly moved to straighten the blanket, smoothing out the wrinkles with precise, deliberate movements.

“I’m not trying to impress anyone. I’m just-” Harper faltered, her hands freezing in their position on the blanket as her mind became overloaded with all sorts of emotions. Frustration, disappointment, and a touch of sadness swirled within her, each vying for attention. She felt a lump forming in her throat, her carefully constructed composure threatening to crumble.

None of which she could properly process as there came a knock at the door. The sound jolted her out of her spiralling thoughts, her heart skipping a beat. Harper’s hands dropped to her sides, her fingers still tingling from the tension. She stood there for a moment, frozen, before her feet moved forward almost on their own. Reaching for the doorknob, she fixed her facial expression, smoothing out the worry lines and forcing a small, composed smile. Only when she was sure she could maintain this facade did she turn the doorknob and open the door.

“Hey, beautiful,” Harper greeted, her voice carefully light. She stepped aside, allowing her friend to step into the room.

The redhead’s lips tugged up into a soft, sad smile.

“Hey, Harps.” She didn’t hesitate to step forward and wrap her friend in a hug, squeezing tightly. So much had happened since they had last seen each other, and exhaling a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, Aurora relaxed almost instantly in her presence. Releasing her hold, she moved into the room and set down her tote bag on a chair, gazing at the string lights and comforting atmosphere that Harper had created. Allowing herself another moment to decompress, the ambiance inviting, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“You’re amazing, you didn’t have to do all this,” She sat down on the bed, running her hands over the soft blankets, “But I can’t even begin to tell you how needed this was,” The redhead flopped back, letting her locks fan out behind her before lifting her arm and pointing to her tote, not bothering to move, “I brought dark chocolate almonds for you, they’re in my bag,”

Harper’s smile warmed at Aurora’s reaction, a genuine sense of relief enveloping her like a comforting blanket. The way Aurora’s eyes lit up at the sight of the comfortable setup made all the effort feel worthwhile, Sierra’s earlier criticism dissipating from her mind. She moved over to the tote bag, her fingers brushing against the fabric as she retrieved her favourite snack, a delighted squeal escaping her lips. The familiar crinkle of the packaging brought a sense of comfort, a small but significant piece of her perfect evening.

“Thanks, Bestie,” Harper said, setting it on the desk with the other snacks, arranging everything just so. “It’s nice to know that some people know how to appreciate another person’s hard work.” Her eyes then lit up with excitement as she turned to grab her laptop from her bedside table, flipping it open with a flourish. She plopped down on the bed beside Aurora, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. Clicking her tongue, she allowed her fingers to dance over the keyboard, ready to pull up the list of movie options she had carefully curated. The glow from the laptop screen illuminated her face, highlighting the eagerness in her eyes.

“Ok, so I narrowed our options earlier for movies but….what are you in the mood for?”

Aurora grumbled. It wasn’t that Harper hadn’t picked good movies, because she had. A lot of them were classics that she loved. But what they all had in common was that they were romance movies, and she wasn’t in a lovey-dovey mood in the slightest. In fact, the last thing she wanted to watch was a chick flick. It might have been girl’s night, but the lingering feeling of hearing Lorcán say Amma’s name remained in her gut.

“Don’t hate me, but can you find, like, a comedy or something? Or an action movie?” She pleaded, moving her hands to cover her eyes. “Normally I’d be down for Pride and Prejudice but today I’d prefer to slap Mr. Darcy instead of drool over him.”

Harper’s smile wobbled slightly as she processed Aurora’s request, the unexpected mood shift catching her off guard. She had been so focused on creating the perfect cozy atmosphere that the change in tone felt like a jolt. But she quickly decided to roll with it, determined to keep the evening light and enjoyable. She turned to her laptop, her fingers dancing over the keys with practiced ease, pulling up the list of other movie options.

“Got it, comedies and action movies it is,” Harper said. She glanced back at Aurora with a playful grin, hoping to see a spark of amusement in her friend’s eyes. “I mean, who needs to watch a romance when your life is practically one, right?” Her tone was teasing, and her words were meant to draw Aurora's smile. She was fishing, but couldn’t help herself. The curiosity was too strong, and she needed to know how things had gone between her two friends.

“Yeah…” Aurora trailed off, trying her best to maintain her composure. She didn’t want to get upset again, not now, not when tonight was supposed to be a chance to get her mind off everything. But Lorcán was interwoven in every facet of her life and she was slowly coming to realize how obvious her feelings for him must have been over the years. The redhead couldn’t go one conversation without mentioning him in some capacity, at every table she saved him a seat, and even the most mundane things would bring her thoughts back to him.

With a defeated sigh, she sat up, propping her elbows on the bed, her lips settling into a thin line.

“He said her name when he woke up. She was the first person he asked for.”

The room seemed to shrink as Harper slowly processed Aurora’s words, the warm atmosphere suddenly feeling stifling. Her playful grin faltered, replaced by a look of concern and confusion that she couldn’t quite hide. The warmth of the string lights now seemed distant, their glow unable to chase away the sudden chill that settled over her. She had been so sure that everything would go well, that Aurora’s conversation with Lorcán would be a success. So, what in the world was her friend alluding to?

“Oh, Rora…” Harper said softly, trying to find the right words.She placed the laptop to the side, the screen dimming as it was set aside, no longer the focus of the evening. She then shifted from her sitting position, laying down on her back next to her friend.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize things were so complicated. I thought—well, I just thought you were going to tell him how you felt,” Harper continued. She could see the pain in Aurora’s eyes now and wished nothing more than to take it away. But what could she really say here?

Harper shifted, her concern evident as she continued to look at Aurora. “I know it’s hard, but… who is this person he asked for?” She kept her tone gentle, trying to navigate the conversation without adding to Aurora’s distress. On the inside, however, there was only one thought running through her mind on who it might be: Please don’t say Amma.

Aurora took a steadying breath, relaxing her arms and returning to lying back on the mattress. “I was going to tell him, especially because yesterday we were convinced he wasn’t going to make it through the night.” She shuddered, the memory of crying in Lorcán’s room with Cass forever engrained now into her mind. “But I didn’t get the chance, because as soon as he woke up he took my hand,” She lifted her left hand where the ring that Tori had given her sat perfectly on her ring finger, the warm string lights glinting on the etched licks of flame, “And he called me Amma.”

“I teleported right out of there, I couldn’t bring myself to stay.” She let her hand flop back down onto the bed, turning her head to look at her friend. “I feel so fucking stupid, Harps.”

Harper took a moment to compose herself before responding. She was here to help Aurora and, if they were both lucky, to have some level of fun as well. She was not trying to impress anyone. She wasn’t.

“Look,” Harper began, her voice carrying an edge that she didn’t bother to soften. Not this time. She’d decided before her conversation with Haven that she was done playing nice, but now she felt truly done with tiptoeing around the truth. “I get that this is tough, but—” She paused, the words catching in her throat as she thought of Lorcán. The image of him, pale and fragile, smelling of death while lying in that hospital bed haunted her. Cass’s description was all she could rely on, really, given that they hadn’t been allowed to see him. Still, the thought of him lying there, fighting for his life and clinging to any semblance of hope, while those who cared for him could only watch and hope in turn, deeply bothered her.

It was a scene she had imagined countless times, been in countless times.

“—Lorcán just woke up from something life-threatening. He might have been confused or disoriented. If you’d stuck around, you could’ve cleared things up instead of bolting at the first sign of trouble.”

Aurora instantly clocked the shift in her tone of voice, a grit now present that wasn’t previously there, her friend’s words grating against her conscience and the inner turmoil that she had felt all day. Harper hadn’t been there, it had been 4 days of torment watching Lorcán deteriorate, and him waking up this morning and asking for Amma had been the straw to break the camel’s back. Sticking around was easier said than done.

“Cass standing right there and seeing the whole thing as it happened was embarrassing enough, staying would have meant Tori and Aiden feeling sorry for me, and Ripley too,” Aurora explained, her cheeks heating up just thinking about the way that Cass had looked at her with such pity. “Lorcán promised me that night in the tent after our powers mingled and he told me about what happened with Amma, that they were just friends and nothing more. I can’t believe I got my hopes up that he could possibly feel the same way about me that I do about him.”

Harper gritted her teeth, feeling the tension radiate through her jaw. She had seen Aurora struggle with uncertainty for too long, and it pained her to watch her flounder in the dark. She knew that words alone wouldn’t be enough to convey the depth of her conviction.

But she had to try.

“But none of that stuff changes what you mean to him, Rora!” she exclaimed, her voice firm but laced with a hint of desperation. Harper could see the doubt in her eyes, the way her friend hesitated to believe in her own worth. It infuriated her that she couldn’t see what was so obvious to everyone else. “If you really want to know what’s going on, you’ll have to talk to him directly. It’s the only way to figure out where you stand with him, instead of always guessing from the sidelines like this.” She wanted to shake the redhead, to make her understand that she couldn’t keep living in this limbo. The cost of her continued inaction was too high, and Harper doubted her ability to pull the other out of the pit of despair it would likely lead to.

Aurora rubbed at her eyes, hoping the motion would soothe the pressure she felt building behind them. “Of course, I still need to talk to him at some point, I just-” She swallowed the lump that was growing in her throat, her anxiety over the situation rising. Her hand moved to run over Harper’s blanket, hoping the sensation of the plush fabric would relax her woes and worries. “I don’t feel sure of anything anymore. All it took was one word and now I’m doubting every interaction we’ve ever had where I thought there was something more.”

“He hasn’t even texted me at all since he was discharged. Kelcey told me she saw him out of the infirmary, and he’s said nothing to me. How do you think that is supposed to make me feel?”

Harper sighed, reaching out and placing a comforting hand on Aurora’s shoulder. “Sometimes, people don’t reach out right away because they’re overwhelmed or unsure of themselves. It doesn’t necessarily reflect how they feel about you or what you mean to them.” She squeezed Aurora’s shoulder gently, trying to offer the reassurance she could.

“It’s frustrating, I get that,” Harper continued, her tone softening but carrying the edge of bluntness she was known for now. “But if you’re waiting for him to come to you, you might be waiting a long time. Sometimes, you have to take the initiative yourself, even if it’s uncomfortable or seems unfair.”

She paused, glancing away as if the words were harder to say than she’d anticipated. “It’s like I told you before…you deserve to be heard, Rora. So, if you care about him and want to know where you stand, you need to tell him. Don’t let your doubts or fears stop you from finding out.”

The wheels in Aurora’s head turned as Harper’s words forced her to reevaluate. She wasn’t wrong, Lorcán was likely overwhelmed with everything that had happened. After all, he had practically been on his deathbed, the boy had enough to process as it was, let alone think to reach out to her. Viewing it from that lens, she knew she definitely wasn’t a priority at the current moment and she was okay with that, it was understandable. But the uneasiness in her gut remained. A few days ago, she had been adamant that she would talk to him upon his recovery, and voice her feelings regardless of whether or not he shared them. But now? Things just seemed so complicated.

But her brunette best friend seemed to know exactly where her mind was going, and she agreed that her woes shouldn’t preclude her from speaking her truth, telling Lorcán just how much she cared about him. She loved him, and that wasn’t changing anytime soon, no matter how anxious the thought of telling him made her. Wordlessly, she looked at Harper and simply nodded, taking everything she said to heart, and agreeing, even if it was difficult to hear.

As she started to plot her next move, she knew there was something key that might put a wrinkle in her plans.

“This is a terrible time to tell you, but if I’m still going to tell Lorcán how I feel, it’s going to need to be after the dance.”

“Because as of this afternoon, I have a date… and it’s not him. Chadwick Patterson asked me.”

Harper’s eyes widened as Aurora’s revelation sank in, her mind racing to catch up with the unexpected twist. For a moment, she simply stared, her mouth slightly agape, as if trying to process the shock that had just been dropped into her lap. Shaking her head in disbelief, the brunette felt a surge of incredulity bubble up inside her. She pushed herself up from her reclining position on the bed, her movements sharp and decisive, as if trying to shake off the surreal feeling.

With a dramatic flair that belied the moment's seriousness, she snatched a pillow from beside her, the soft fabric cool against her fingers. Then, without further ado, she gave Aurora a light, playful whack across the face with it, the pillow making a satisfying thump.

“Seriously, Rora? A date? Now? What on earth are you thinking?” Harper asked, unable to contain a small, disbelieving laugh. Without waiting for a response, her patience being already worn thin by her conversation with Sierra and now this, she dramatically flopped back onto the bed, shoving the same pillow over her face and screaming into it.

Aurora knew what was going to happen next as soon as she saw Harper reach for the pillow, but she couldn’t move fast enough before the plush fabric met her face. A muffled noise escaped her lips upon impact, but she simply resigned to her fate. When the pillow was removed she spoke with an understanding sigh.

“Okay, I deserved that, but what was I supposed to do? Chad overheard me saying to Kelcey that I didn’t have a date, so it’s not like I could lie to his face. No one else asked me, there was no reason for me to say no.” She began to explain but was interrupted by the brunette releasing her own frustration into said pillow, a muted scream audible. The redhead winced at her animated display and her face heated up, instantly feeling self-conscious as a result of her reaction.

When she finally pulled the pillow away, Harper’s face was flushed, and her expression was one of exasperation. “Maybe if you let Chadwick down gently, he might be understanding,” she suggested, though her voice lacked conviction. Even as she said it, Harper knew it was not only a ridiculous suggestion at this point but also a hurtful one. For wasn’t she in a similar situation with Cass? She highly doubted that, in Aurora’s place, he would have taken kindly to something like that if she went through with it.

Besides, Harper was looking forward to going with him. Despite their meeting under weird circumstances, she had enjoyed talking to him, finding an unexpected comfort in his presence. It had been surprisingly…easy, their conversation flowing naturally as if they had known each other for years. Though mainly about a foreboding subject that made her shudder now, there was an undeniable connection there that she couldn’t ignore. Sighing deeply, Harper propped herself up on her elbows, her gaze softened with sympathy.

“I’m not going back on my word, Harps, what’s done is done. Besides, it’s not like Lorcán didn’t have the opportunity.” Aurora reached up and fiddled with her necklace.

“Tori even agreed with me, she said I deserve to have fun and go with a guy who’s willing to ask me. So sure, it might be terrible timing, but this actually might be what I need right now. After everything that’s happened- the Trial, Lorcán’s health scare - I want tomorrow night to be fun, don’t you?”

“Just don’t…settle for him, okay? Have a good time, or try to at least,” Harper replied. Then, hesitating for a moment, she allowed a small, sheepish smile to tug at her lips. “Speaking of dates, I guess I should mention that I’ll be going to the dance with Cass. So…I guess I kinda get it.”

It was now the redhead’s turn to be shocked, her jaw unhinging slightly. She took the pillow, and whacked Harper across the arm, payback.

“Cass as in, Sassy Cassy? Pain in my Cass? That Cass?” Aurora’s eyes bugged out and her brow raised. “Since when?”

But her expression eased as she thought about the side of the blonde boy she’d seen over the past four days. As abrasive and smart-mouthed as he may have been, she’d learned more about him and his emotional capacity throughout their whole ordeal. He’d been charismatic and considerate; made sure she was taking care of herself, had ensured she was getting sleep, shared the burden they all carried. He’d comforted her when she cried, and supported her when things seemed bleak. There were certainly worse people that Harper could be going with…

Aurora dissolved into a small smile, reaching out and taking her friend’s hand in hers.

“That’s exciting, Harps. I’m happy for you.”

“Sassy Cassy? Pain in my Cass?” Harper repeated, shaking her head with a grin that lit up her face.“You’ve got quite the way with nicknames, you know that?” Her laughter was light and infectious, a brief respite from the heaviness that had settled over them. As the words left her lips, her amusement faded into a more genuine, warm smile, one that reached her eyes this time around.

Aurora smirked, a glow returning to her features as they discussed a much less stressful topic, “I came up with the nicknames because I know they annoy him, but as much as I enjoy giving him a hard time, I don’t think I would’ve gotten through this week without him.” She’d known Cass for nearly five years at this point, they’d had their disagreements and she’d always suspected he’d been a bit jealous about how much time Lorcán spent with her instead of him, but recently there was a mutual understanding there. An olive branch, in a way, with senior year looming over their heads. And now, they had their own traumatic experience to further bond over.

“Yeah, that sounds like the Cass I’m going with. The one and only,” Harper said, looking down at their joined hands. “I guess you could say we hit it off. He’s not just a pain though. I’ve actually found him pretty…decent, in his own way.” The words felt like an understatement somehow, despite not knowing the blond very well. There was something about him that intrigued her, something that made her want to dig deeper. Maybe it was because they seemed to share certain similarities, like blunt honesty. Or maybe it was him offering to go to the dance with her despite their abrasive meeting.

Or maybe it was the unpredictability he brought, the challenge he represented. A wildcard.

“He’s right in my comfort zone, at least.”

“Cass is rougher around the edges, but he has a good heart. You guys are going to have a great time together.” Aurora reassured, squeezing Harper’s hand prior to releasing it. “Seems as though we both will need to get all dolled up for the dance tomorrow then. I was going to see if all the girls wanted to come and get ready at my place, if that’d be of interest?”

“That sounds like fun. It’ll be nice to have them around and have things be about…well, everything else for a change.” Harper’s voice faltered here, her head tilting to the side in curiosity. “You do mean…everyone right?” she asked.Regardless of Aurora’s feelings about Amma, the last thing she wanted was to isolate her. It seemed…cruel, and Harper couldn’t bear the thought of anyone feeling left out.

It was evident who Harper was referring to without speaking a name, not just from her body language and facial expression but also from the intonation of her voice. Aurora swallowed, brow furrowed. She had yet to think about Amma’s role in all of this. Lorcán may have said her name upon awakening, but did that mean she should be angry with her? Possibly. After all, the redhead bore her soul to the girl in that infirmary room, disclosing her love and defending it with a passion she didn’t even believe she possessed. But on second thought, she knew she couldn’t be too upset with her. She didn’t owe her anything, she barely knew her.

After all, they wanted the same thing.

So she stood by the words she uttered back in the infirmary: Amma wasn’t a monster.

“Yes, everyone.”

Shaking off her unease, she abandoned the topic, grabbing Harper’s laptop and looking through the curated list of movies with a lighter view.

“On second thought, I wouldn’t mind a rom-com…”

---

Umbra: The Abyssal Connection

A

_{Interactions: VV-@Estylwen, D-@WayWard}

---

A stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over her, washing away the grime and tension of the day. She closed her eyes, letting the steam envelop her, but her mind remained alert, replaying the events that had led them here. The surgery room had been cold and sterile, the bright lights glaring down as the workers did their usual. The administrator’s smirk had been unsettling, a silent threat that lingered in her thoughts. What she wanted from them or else. Or else end up like Pia and the others.

She resisted a shudder, drying off and slipping into the new skin suit. Right then and there, A made a decision. The snug fit of the suit seemed to bolster her resolve, reminding her of the protection it offered. She needed to gather more information about their mission and the true intentions of Umbra Corp. The thought of being in the dark, manipulated by unseen hands, was intolerable. She would have to be cautious, but she couldn’t afford to be passive any longer; action was necessary.

As she rejoined VV and D, A’s mind was already working on a plan. She scanned the room, noting every detail, every potential source of information. She would keep her eyes and ears open, looking for any clues or opportunities to learn more about their situation. And if the chance arose, she would find a way to communicate with her fellow test subjects, subtly coordinating their efforts.

Or so she thought….how naive.

They were like floating insects. Floating insects in space.

The vast expanse of stars and distant planets stretched out before her, a breathtaking and daunting sight that made her feel both insignificant and awestruck. She had always assumed they were underground, like VV had, confined to the sterile, cold facility with its harsh lights and clinical walls. The revelation that they were in space was both awe-inspiring and terrifying, shaking the very foundation of her understanding. Her mind raced, grappling with the implications of this new reality, as the beauty and vastness of the cosmos enveloped her.

“We’re in space,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else as she entered the escape pod.

---

The pod’s descent had been smooth but tense.

A’s heart pounded as the emergency red lights flickered on and the escape pod’s overhead hatch opened. The suffocating density of dust in the air hit her immediately, and she quickly pulled out her rebreather mask, attaching it to her face. The abyssal energy compartment lit up, providing a small comfort in the chaotic situation.

“Everyone alright?” VV’s voice cut through the tension, her eyes glancing to D and A as she carefully unbuckled herself.

A nodded, unbuckling herself and standing upright in the overturned escape pod. She watched as VV pulled at the ledge below the escape hatch, extending a small rung ladder. VV gave it a test step before being the first out of the pod. A quickly followed, climbing up the ladder and peering out of the hatch.

A’s mind raced as she took in the scene before her. They were outnumbered and outgunned, but she couldn’t let fear paralyze her. She glanced at D, then back at VV. “Stay calm,” she whispered, her voice steady. “We need to assess the situation and look for an opening.”

She slowly climbed out of the pod, raising her hands to show she wasn’t a threat. Her eyes darted around, taking in every detail of their surroundings and the menacing figures that encircled them. She needed to find a way to communicate with VV and D without drawing attention, to formulate a plan that could get them out of this alive.

“Alright,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “We’re coming out.”

As she stepped forward, A’s mind was already working on a plan. She would use her Blood Sense to gauge the health and positions of their captors, looking for any weaknesses or signs of hesitation. If necessary, she could use Hemorrhage to create a distraction, buying them precious seconds to act.

But for now, they needed to play along, to bide their time until the right moment presented itself.

Umbra: The Abyssal Connection

I'll probably have a post up tomorrow or Wednesday

Realms of Sun & Shadow

_{Interactions: Sunni-@The Savant}

---

Sunni’s next words were incredibly gentle yet piercing, cutting through the tangled web of anxiety that had been tightening around Elara’s mind.

“Elara, you do not have to make plans with me if you don’t want to be around me,” he said. His smile grew more genuine, a small, warm curve that should have been comforting but instead deepened the pit of unease in her stomach. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, a soft light that made her chest ache with a confusing mix of relief and guilt.

“I will not be offended. I promise. It’s somewhat painful standing here and watching you try while your body language and facial expressions are telling me the opposite of your words,” he continued, chuckling lightly as he looked down. His hands slid into his pockets, a gesture that seemed to create a barrier between them, protecting himself from further hurt.

Because Elara was not stupid. She knew her indecisiveness had caused him some small level of pain, a subtle but undeniable sting that she could see in the way his shoulders slumped ever so slightly.

She watched him move some rocks with his foot, his demeanour shifting to one of quiet resignation. Elara’s eyes softened in turn, her gaze meeting his for a fleeting moment before she looked away, unable to bear the vulnerability reflected in his eyes.

“I think…we both have a lot on our minds,” she murmured, the words feeling hollow and insufficient. Her mind raced, urging her to explain herself more, to bridge the gap that seemed to widen with every passing second.

“Reading together sounds lovely, truly. Maybe once things settle down a bit, we can find a quiet moment.” She offered a gentle smile then, hoping it would ease the tension between them. “For now, let’s focus on what needs to be done. The winter preparations are crucial, and I wouldn’t want to neglect my duties.”

It was a rejection, but also not. A tentative promise of future moments, a delicate balance between duty and desire.

Elara fell into step beside Sunni, desperately wishing to break the silence, to find the right words that would ease the tension between them. But nothing came to mind. Instead, she focused on the rhythmic crunch of their footsteps on the snowy path, finding a strange comfort in the simple, repetitive sound. As they walked, she occasionally stole glances at Sunni, his expression calm despite the flicker of doubt in his eyes. He was trying to mask his feelings, just as she was. That much she figured.

She sighed along with him, the weight of the silence pressing down on her until Elara could no longer bear it. The shared exhalation felt like a small release, a moment of unspoken understanding between them.

“I appreciate you walking me back. It’s… nice to have someone looking out for me.”

As she spoke, she glanced up at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of his true feelings. She hoped her words would convey the gratitude she felt, even if she couldn’t fully express the complexity of her emotions. The flicker of warmth in his eyes gave her a small measure of reassurance, but the uncertainty still lingered.

The path ahead to the cabin seemed both endless and too short, a journey that mirrored the uncertain distance between them. Each step felt like a delicate balance between moving forward and holding back, the snowy trail a silent witness to their unspoken thoughts.

“Thank you for…the walk. For everything. I know we both have our responsibilities, but… I hope we can find time to talk again.”

Her smile then was small but genuine, a silent promise of future conversations and shared moments. She wanted him to know that despite her fears and uncertainties, she valued his presence and the little connection they’d shared. With a final nod, she stepped towards the cabin, her heart heavy yet hopeful.

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

The room was a disaster zone, a disorderly mess of clothes haphazardly strewn across the floor and books scattered like fallen leaves in a storm. Moving with a quiet urgency, breaths came in shallow, rapid bursts while bending to right a fallen chair, hands trembling from the adrenaline still coursing through veins after that evening’s unexpected incident. It had been hours already, yet the memory of it clung like a shadow, leaving one shaken and on edge.

Out of all the things expected, this encounter had definitely not been one of them.

The only desk in the room was a chaotic jumble, with papers and notebooks haphazardly scattered across it in a frenzy. A lamp lay on its side on the floor beside it, its bulb flickering weakly, casting wavering shadows across the room. It was righted, the light now illuminating the mess with a harsh clarity. Gaze fell on a framed photo, discarded and cracked, and heart clenched painfully. Caring nothing for the people depicted, it was picked up anyway, the glass cool and sharp against fingers, and placed back on the desk with a tenderness that hadn’t been thought possible in a long time.

The bed was a confusing tangle, the sheets damp with sweat and twisted like the troubled thoughts inside the mind. The edges of the blanket were smoothed with quick, efficient movements, fingers hesitating slightly on the figure cocooned there before hands came to rest on the shoulders, tracing the scar they knew to be there. The one given by those very same hands.

Removing them, eyes darted around the room, absorbing the rest of the disorder she’d left behind in her panic. Pens and pencils were scattered everywhere like tiny soldiers fallen in disarray. The closet door hung ajar, clothes spilling out in a colourful flood, some hastily shoved into a small, open black suitcase. Feet moved on their own, navigating the mess, while hands reached down to grasp the clothing. Some pieces were hung in the closet, while others were neatly folded and placed in the nearby dresser.

Feet paused by the window on their way back to the bed, eyes drawn to the darkened campus outside. The world beyond seemed so calm, so indifferent, much like it had been that day years ago. Except, unlike the young woman—the brown-haired girl sleeping under the sheets, muttering frantic words to herself, caught in the throes of a bad dream—she knew how to move on. To accept that sometimes life, instead of lemons, throws grenades at your feet, forcing you to be quick enough to dodge them or risk losing everything.

Sierra had believed Harper knew this as well, had learned this lesson at some point during the years she’d hidden what she was from her. She had thought Harper understood the necessity of moving on, of adapting to whatever life threw at you. But she’d been wrong. Or, better yet, it was like her sister was prone to throwing herself on those grenades, and for what? For those she refused to even open up to? Why was she here, alone, dealing with something that not even the faux redhead could understand?

Was it pride? Or, resentfully she thought, a way for her to keep them chained to each other in this way?

It just didn’t make any damn sense.

The room was silent, save for the soft sound of Harper’s breathing. Sierra looked down at her now, a deep, frustrated sigh escaping her lips.

“Just slay your own dragons already.”

^{_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: Strigidae Dorms - Pacific Royal Campus}

Dance Monkey #4.010: Crossroads

^{_{___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Sierra (Supporting Cast), Aurora-@Melissa}

Previously: Crash

Harper’s eyelids fluttered open, her senses groggy and disoriented as the world slowly came into focus. The soft, muted light seeping through the curtains felt foreign and disconcerting, like an unexpected visitor in the haze of her confusion. The room, bathed in its gentle glow, seemed both familiar and strange as if she were seeing it for the first time. Her mind struggled to piece together fragments of dreams and reality, the boundary between them blurred. She recalled only a few things at first, like her stumbling inside her room, exhausted from the day’s events.

Well no…that wasn’t quite it, was it? There was also the matter of the loss of yet another person in her life.

The sudden weight of grief pressed down on her chest at the resurgence of Jim’s news, making each breath a struggle, as if the very air had turned against her. The fragments of her past and present collided in a painful dance in her head, each memory a sharp jab to her heart. Harper’s vision blurred with unshed tears, the room around her spinning in a disorienting whirl. She clutched at her chest, trying to steady herself, the ache of loss almost too much to bear. It was only when she felt something move beside her, a gentle shift in the bed, that she managed to pull herself from the edge of despair.

Harper’s hand flew to her chest in shock as she pushed herself up from the bed, her heart pounding wildly. The memories of the previous night began to align themselves, each one falling into place as she turned to investigate the movement beside her. Her vision, still adjusting, gradually sharpened, revealing the figure lying next to her.

Sierra was there, her arm draped over Harper’s waist, her vibrant red hair spilling over her face like a fiery cascade that caught the light and shimmered like molten lava. The sight of her sister, so close and comforting, brought a rush of relief, grounding Harper in the present moment. She took a deep breath, the weight of her earlier hysteria slowly lifting, replaced by a warmth that she gratefully welcomed.

Sierra was here. And she could see her.

She could see.

Harper’s eyes lingered on Sierra, taking in every detail with a newfound clarity. The gentle rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed, the way her hair framed her face in a wild, yet beautiful disarray. The faint scar above Sierra’s eyebrow from a childhood accident, the way her lips parted slightly as she breathed, and the small, almost imperceptible smile that tugged at the corners of her lips—all of it filled Harper with a profound sense of love and protection. She noticed the way Sierra’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, as if she were dreaming, and the soft, rhythmic sound of her breathing that seemed to sync with Harper’s own heartbeat. Every detail, from the warmth radiating from Sierra’s body to the subtle scent of her shampoo, enveloped Harper in a cocoon of safety and affection, making her feel more grounded and cherished than ever before.

She reached out, her hand trembling slightly, and gently brushed a strand of hair away from Sierra’s face. The touch was light, almost reverent, as if she feared waking her sister from her well-deserved rest. She’d earned it, after everything Harper had put her through.
Harper remembered now the way she had frantically gotten out of bed, almost tripping on the edge of the desk she could no longer see. She had stumbled blindly, her hands outstretched in a desperate attempt to find something—anything—that would anchor her in the darkness. Her fingers had brushed against the cool, smooth surface of the desk, knocking over a lamp that clattered to the floor with a deafening crash. The sound had only heightened her anxiety, her breaths coming in shallow, rapid bursts as she tried to navigate the room. Each step had felt like an eternity, her hand practically slamming on and throwing open the closet door once she had managed to grasp it.

The darkness had been all-encompassing, a void that seemed to swallow Harper whole. She had reached inside, feeling for the familiar textures of her clothes, the soft fabric of her shirts and the rougher material of her jeans. Her fingers had brushed against the empty suitcase, a small, black rectangle that she had hastily shoved into the closet once it had been unpacked earlier that semester. She had pulled it out, her movements frantic and uncoordinated, clothes spilling out in a colorful flood as she tried to pack. Her hands had shaken as she stuffed clothes into the suitcase, each item a futile attempt to fill the void inside her.

To go where with it, Harper had been unsure. To the home that had never truly come to feel that way, that held no comfort and no sense of belonging? To the one that was no longer hers to apply that label to? All she had known was that she couldn’t stay here. There was no place for her here if she was like this. No reason.

And then, as if the universe had heard and wanted to remind her it was listening, Sierra had appeared. Her presence had been a beacon in the storm, her voice slicing through the dense fog of Harper’s panic. Harper remembered the way Sierra’s hands had felt, warm and reassuring, as they settled on her shoulders. The touch had been grounding, a tether to reality that she had clung to—perhaps too tightly, given the fresh scratches on Sierra’s arms. A bit of guilt swirled in Harper’s stomach at the sight now, yet she knew better than to think it would be held against her.

Carefully, Harper began to remove Sierra’s arm from around her. She moved with the utmost caution, her heart pounding in her chest as she gently lifted it into the air. Her hand paused mid-motion, however, when Sierra slightly stirred, a faint murmur escaping her lips. The brunette froze, her breath catching in her throat. She held her breath, her eyes now fixed on her sister’s face, waiting to see if she would wake. As the seconds ticked by, her eyes traced the lines of her face, committing every detail to memory as if it were the last time she would see her like this.

Finally, Sierra’s breathing remained steady, and Harper let out a silent sigh of relief. Her fingers shook slightly as she carefully placed Sierra’s arm back on the bed, slipping out from under the covers with the utmost care. She stood up, her legs feeling a bit unsteady, as if the weight of the night’s events had settled into her bones. Each step felt tentative, her muscles still remembering the tension from earlier. She made her way to her desk where her phone lay, picking it up and unlocking the screen with her thumb. The time flashed before her eyes, and she realized with a start that she had missed breakfast, and her morning classes, and it was almost lunchtime. She had overslept, her body clearly demanding the rest after the previous night’s ordeal.

The next thing she opened were a few unread messages, some insignificant but two managing to catch her attention. The first one was from Cass, its content an unsolvable mystery until she completely opened it.

For a moment, all Harper could do was stare at the screen, her mind struggling to process the words in front of her. The room seemed to fade away, the sounds around her muffled as her focus narrowed to the message.

Lorcán was going to be okay.

The words seemed to pulse on the screen, each letter read and reread sending a powerful wave of relief through her. She felt her eyes filling with tears, a mix of overwhelming emotions threatening to spill over. She stifled the tears for the sake of the sleeping person in the room, not wanting to disturb the fragile peace that had settled thanks to her and now this.

Lorcán was not going to die.

She could almost hear his voice, see his smile, and it brought a small, genuine smile to her own lips. Harper knew that the road to recovery might still be long, but the fact that he was out of immediate danger was a victory in itself. One that she would gladly take and desperately needed.

The second message was from Aurora, which Harper read, a smile still on her face as she typed out a response:

Heyyy!! Just read the good news. Yea, yea I know I’m late shut up.🙄

Just stop by whenever you’re free tonight around 7, maybe? We have so much to talk about hehehehe 😉Luv you 😘

Oh and there…might be someone here that I want you to meet.

Her finger hovered over the send button, her eyes drifting back to Sierra, still peacefully asleep. The sight of her sister, so serene and undisturbed, brought a bittersweet ache to Harper’s chest. This part of her life, her loss and who still remained, had always been, well…for her. It was a private sanctuary, a place where her mind could hold onto the memories of those she had lost and navigate the complexities of her grief. Sharing it felt like exposing a raw, vulnerable part of herself.

It didn’t help that for years Sierra had not been in her life. The distance between them had been a chasm, filled with silence and missed opportunities. Reconnecting had been a slow, delicate process, like mending a fragile piece of glass. Harper feared that introducing Sierra to this part of her life might shatter the fragile peace they had built.

Aurora didn’t even know she had a sister.

She looked at the unsent reply, her lip curling in to rest on the tips of her teeth, a nervous habit she had never quite shaken and probably never would.

Then, shaking her head, she erased the last sentence and pressed send.

Umbra: The Abyssal Connection

A8-130-G1B-88

A

mid 20s (she's not sure) | Human | Female | Umbra Corp, Test Subject | 5’4 | 130 lbs

Abyssal Connection: Forced Subjugation

#1 Hemorrhage

She can cause a person's nose or ears to bleed, causing discomfort and mild disorientation. This ability has a short range and requires a direct line of sight.

#2 Blood Sense

She can sense nearby living creatures' location and general health status by "feeling" their blood flow. This ability has a limited range and does not provide specific details about the creatures.

(Locked) #3 Blood Puppetry

She can control the movements of a target by manipulating their blood flow. This ability requires intense concentration and has a limited duration. It also causes significant strain on her, leading to fatigue and potential nosebleeds.

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Goal: A’s primary goal is to regain control over her life and protect her fellow test subjects. She is determined to uncover the truth behind their imprisonment and experimentation, and to seek justice for the wrongs done to them. Ultimately, she aims to dismantle the organization that has manipulated and violated them, ensuring that no one else suffers the same fate.

Additionally, A is driven by a personal quest to recover her lost memories. She hopes that by piecing together her past, she can understand the full extent of her abilities and the reasons behind her selection as a test subject. This journey of self-discovery is crucial for her to find closure and reclaim her identity.

Personality: A is resilient and resourceful, with an unyielding determination to overcome any obstacle. Despite the trauma and suffering she has endured, she remains fiercely protective of her friends and allies. Her past experiences have made her wary and distrustful of authority figures, but they have also instilled in her a deep sense of empathy for those who are oppressed or mistreated.

A is driven by a strong moral compass and a desire for justice, often putting herself at risk to help others. She struggles with the temptation to give in to the darkness within her, but her resolve to fight for a better future keeps her grounded. Her cautious and strategic nature often puts her at odds with those who prefer more direct or ruthless methods, but she remains steadfast in her beliefs.

A’s quest to recover her lost memories adds a layer of vulnerability to her otherwise strong exterior. She is haunted by the fragments of her past, which fuel her determination to uncover the truth and reclaim her identity. This journey of self-discovery is crucial for her to find closure and to understand the full extent of her abilities.

History: A woke with others who were the same as her, fellow test subjects. During her time at the facility with them, she recovered a few of her memories. She remembered being mercilessly bullied as a child, with tormentors often resorting to physical violence. One harrowing memory involved being shoved into a wall, resulting in a severe nosebleed and a broken nose. Another memory was of a car accident as a teenager, causing the death of her best friend. She vividly remembered the blood pooling on the asphalt and the feeling of helplessness as she watched her friend succumb to their injuries.

Left with more questions than answers, A now travels with the remaining members of this group to the city of Ehlm in an attempt to kill the Wild King.

Inventory: Umbra Corp Skin Suit: A sleek, dark suit designed for agility and protection.

Hematic Rebreather Mask: A specialized piece of equipment designed to enhance A’s blood-bending abilities while providing essential respiratory support.

Utility Belt: Equipped with various tools, including a small knife, lockpicks, and a compact flashlight.

Medical Kit: Contains first aid supplies, including bandages, antiseptic wipes, and a few vials of blood coagulant for emergency use.

Ration Bars and Water Bottles: Essential for sustenance during long missions.

Communication Device: A compact, encrypted radio for secure communication with her team.

Notebook and Pen: For jotting down observations, plans, and any recovered memories.