We all know that you are gonna go for it. Do not pretend you have to think about it :P
Where's the fun in rushing though? Gotta season shit first :)
Qia
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A Little Weasel
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2 days ago
hmm sounds like what a sussy baka might say tho... (jk jk).
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12 days ago
Why do all good things come to an end?
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17 days ago
I can't believe I binge watched this show. But damn Dark is so good.
1 mo ago
Or maybe melons>>> lemons?
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1 mo ago
God now I have Daddy Cop stuck in my head. My fault xD
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Bio
Hi, Qia here <3. I'm a gamer and RP fan just looking to have a good time.
Most Recent Posts
Where's the fun in rushing though? Gotta season shit first :)
Qia, quick-! Attack Savant! o0o;;
I'll decide what to do once I get through this monster of a post haha :P
omg that is quite a read
Now there are 4 delacroix in this rp :p
A
A noticed the subtle change in VV’s demeanour, the way her head inclined slightly and her shoulders hunched with a weary surrender. It wasn’t outright defeat, not exactly, but it bore the sombre essence of someone acutely aware of the futility that enveloped their circumstances. A's heart constricted at this poignant revelation, guilt creeping insidiously into the corners of her mind. VV had always epitomized strength—steadfast and unwavering—and now it seemed that A’s own doubts had quietly eroded that formidable resilience.
“Thank you,” A uttered softly, her tone barely above a whisper and laced with tremors of emotion. Her gratitude was genuine, a heartfelt acknowledgment of the sacrifice being made. Trust was a rare commodity for both of them, painstakingly cultivated over time, and the mere fact that VV chose to place her faith in A, notwithstanding the myriad challenges they faced, felt like an invaluable treasure—one A grappled with feeling unworthy of possessing.
A tried to push herself upright again, her trembling arms barely cooperating. The effort left her breathless, but she managed to shift enough to rest her back against the wall, her gaze following VV’s toward Le Frey and Mimi.
“Did they say anything after…the incident? You know, when I passed out?”
VV stared, easily seeing A's weakened state. Her red eyes narrowed, feeling an uncomfortable twist in her gut. It didn't sit with her well at all - it was her fault A was like this.
She gestured to the canteen and ration left beside A, ”You should have something to eat. I'll explain meanwhile.”
A’s gaze drifted toward the canteen and ration pouch resting at her side. For a brief moment, her fingers hesitated in midair, suspended by indecision, before they wrapped around the canteen’s cool exterior. She unscrewed the cap and raised the vessel to her lips. As she took a small sip, the tepid water offered a modicum of relief against the abrasive dryness in her throat. While the liquid itself was not invigorating in the slightest, it did manage to give a bit of comfort that prompted her to indulge in a more substantial gulp.
After placing the canteen aside, her focus shifted to the ration pack lying in her lap. The packaging crinkled as she peeled it open, the unremarkable aroma of bland protein wafting into the air. She broke off a fragment of the dense, unappetizing bar, her teeth chewing through it in a rhythmic, almost mechanical fashion. The flavour was uninspiring as she had anticipated, yet her body craved the nourishment, driving her to consume it regardless of its unappealing nature.
With another bite in her mouth, she cast a sidelong glance at VV. “Go on,” A said, her voice taking on a steadier tone, shedding the hesitance of before. “What happened?”
VV nodded, feeling a fraction of satisfaction and relief. She scooted a little closer to the laser bars, hands resting in her lap.
”The doc is smart, I'll give her that. Somehow, Just by looking at you, she was able to tell that you control blood.”
VV's face softened a bit. ”She… also noted your lack of ability to hurt your friends. So, I uh, don't really have a right to be mad at you for throwing the duel. It's not your fault.”
A pause, before she nodded, a slight smile on her face. "Despite everything, we are friends… aren't we?”
A paused mid-chew, the words sinking in deeper than she expected.
“She figured that out just by looking at me?” she asked in mild disbelief. When VV nodded, A exhaled, her shoulders slumping as she tried to process what that meant. She wasn’t sure why she felt the way she did. Perhaps it was because it hadn’t been obvious to her way back when. Or maybe it was because she didn’t even know herself entirely, yet here was this person who had figured out something significant about her in less time than it had taken her to hit the ground.
Thankfully, VV’s question drew A’s attention back to her. “Yeah,” she said after a long pause. “I think we are.” She stared for a bit before shifting her gaze to break the intensity of the moment.
“But that might not be as great as it sounds.”
VV couldn't help the grimace that crossed her face. A tried to show that she was strong, but she was a lot like her. There was pain under the surface.
”It smells delicious.” The entity in VV's mind and body chimed in.
”Shut up.” VV chimed back in her mind, not missing a beat as she shifted a bit at the bars of her cell.
”Well, not that I really get this whole ‘fallaway' thing, but perhaps… we’re a bit lucky? Val is sticking his neck out for us. And Wren-” She glanced over at the man, ”Even wants to come with us. Maybe, things are looking up.”
She laughed a little sarcastically, trying to make a joke. ”Makes me almost forget about the spacey laser cannon aimed right at us if we mess up, eh?”
A chewed thoughtfully, her gaze flitting to VV’s pained expression before resting upon the meagre ration clasped in her hand. Her laughter after her optimistic words, which should have lightened the atmosphere, seemed too faint and laced with sarcasm to resonate with A’s ears.
“Lucky…” she echoed softly, as if savouring the syllables upon her tongue. After a contemplative pause, she acquiesced with a reluctant, “Maybe,” though her tone unmistakably hinted at her lingering doubts. Her gaze shifted toward Val and then to Wren, observing their expressions as she wrestled with her emotions. The notion of others electing to stand by them—choosing her—should have instilled a sense of comfort, yet it only served to tighten the constricting knot in her stomach. It transcended mere trust; it encompassed an overwhelming sense of responsibility, an acute awareness of the burden of not disappointing them amidst the bleakness of their shared plight.
“We have people who are genuinely putting themselves on the line for us, don’t we?” A expressed with a resigned tone. “But what happens if we mess up again? If I mess up again?”
The screech of tires echoed in her ears, unbidden, the memory surfacing with cruel clarity. The wind in her hair, the laughter spilling from her lips, the carefree chorus of their favourite song—before everything went wrong. She could almost experience the jarring lurch of the vehicle as it careened, the ear-splitting sound of glass exploding into a thousand shards. A tightness constricted her chest, reminiscent of her terrified grip on the seat, knuckles turned bone-white in distress. The world around her twisted in a chaotic whirlwind, an alarming amalgamation of sky and earth, until the catastrophic collision occurred, the repulsive crunch of metal contorting and fracturing.
A blinked rapidly, her focus slipping back to the present, but the phantom scent of asphalt and gasoline remained in her mind.
“You know…” she started, her voice faltering for a moment. “I’ve screwed up before, and people got hurt. Someone I cared about…” She trailed off, the haunting image of her best friend’s lifeless form seared vividly into her memory. A’s hands balled into trembling fists resting in her lap, as she summoned the courage to meet VV’s gaze once more. “It’s not just about messing up. It’s about… not being able to fix it. Watching it happen and knowing you can’t do anything to stop it.”
She exhaled shakily, her voice dropping lower. “That’s what scares me. Not the fight, not the pain—just… letting someone down again.” After she'd said this, A couldn’t bring herself to meet VV’s gaze. Instead, her eyes fell on the ration bar she had set aside. “So yeah, maybe things are looking up. Maybe this is lucky. But luck doesn’t last. Not for people like us.”
”It's true.”
Immediately, A would feel a suffocating, clawing, choking presence surrounding her. It bit at her edges, as if trying to choke her and drown her at the same time. Her vision was taken, and instead of the Ghost Corp barracks, she instead saw a grey and dismal expanse, with stones floating in the air, and a moon hanging in the gray. There was a figure staring down at her. It was hard to tell, but this shadowy, colossal being, easily could have been the size of a mountain.
"You are cursed to meet me. Cursed to bring my darkness into the world. Cursed to have a fate that some may call… worse than death.
“Struggle. Delay. Drown in apathy. It doesn't matter what you do. These feelings, this pain, opens the doors to my domain. Opens the doors to me. And you will be my harbinger.”
And, in the next instant, the collosal titan was gone, as well as the grey expanse. A was back in the barracks, VV's mouth moving at her.
”A…? A? Did you hear what I said?”
A blinked rapidly, her eyelids fluttering as her vision coalesced to reveal VV’s worried visage peering intently at her. Her friend’s lips continued to move in a flurry of words, yet the sounds remained frustratingly elusive to her ears. With a palpable dryness in her throat, A swallowed hard, summoning every ounce of her willpower to anchor herself to the present moment.
“I…” she began, her voice momentarily faltering and cracking like fragile glass. She cleared her throat, striving to regain her composure and try one more. “I’m fine,” she uttered in a tone that betrayed her insincerity. The haunting phrases from the vision clung relentlessly to her mind, gnawing at her consciousness.
A’s thoughts surged forward with reckless spontaneity, even as she futilely endeavoured to suppress them. Had it been a figment of her imagination? Had the Ghost Corps played some kind of nefarious role, or was it her own psyche conspiring against her, excavating fresh terrors to augment the weight of past nightmares? In her heart, she longed to dismiss it as a deceptive trick of her fatigued mind, but an insidious doubt festered deep within her.
“What did you say?” A finally inquired, grappling with whether she was directing her question at VV or merely seeking reassurance from herself.
VV stared with a bit of concern, before she shook her head, trying to smile. “I was saying, you look kinda tired, A. Maybe we should call it a day. Fates know what tomorrow will bring…”
“Thank you,” A uttered softly, her tone barely above a whisper and laced with tremors of emotion. Her gratitude was genuine, a heartfelt acknowledgment of the sacrifice being made. Trust was a rare commodity for both of them, painstakingly cultivated over time, and the mere fact that VV chose to place her faith in A, notwithstanding the myriad challenges they faced, felt like an invaluable treasure—one A grappled with feeling unworthy of possessing.
A tried to push herself upright again, her trembling arms barely cooperating. The effort left her breathless, but she managed to shift enough to rest her back against the wall, her gaze following VV’s toward Le Frey and Mimi.
“Did they say anything after…the incident? You know, when I passed out?”
VV stared, easily seeing A's weakened state. Her red eyes narrowed, feeling an uncomfortable twist in her gut. It didn't sit with her well at all - it was her fault A was like this.
She gestured to the canteen and ration left beside A, ”You should have something to eat. I'll explain meanwhile.”
A’s gaze drifted toward the canteen and ration pouch resting at her side. For a brief moment, her fingers hesitated in midair, suspended by indecision, before they wrapped around the canteen’s cool exterior. She unscrewed the cap and raised the vessel to her lips. As she took a small sip, the tepid water offered a modicum of relief against the abrasive dryness in her throat. While the liquid itself was not invigorating in the slightest, it did manage to give a bit of comfort that prompted her to indulge in a more substantial gulp.
After placing the canteen aside, her focus shifted to the ration pack lying in her lap. The packaging crinkled as she peeled it open, the unremarkable aroma of bland protein wafting into the air. She broke off a fragment of the dense, unappetizing bar, her teeth chewing through it in a rhythmic, almost mechanical fashion. The flavour was uninspiring as she had anticipated, yet her body craved the nourishment, driving her to consume it regardless of its unappealing nature.
With another bite in her mouth, she cast a sidelong glance at VV. “Go on,” A said, her voice taking on a steadier tone, shedding the hesitance of before. “What happened?”
VV nodded, feeling a fraction of satisfaction and relief. She scooted a little closer to the laser bars, hands resting in her lap.
”The doc is smart, I'll give her that. Somehow, Just by looking at you, she was able to tell that you control blood.”
VV's face softened a bit. ”She… also noted your lack of ability to hurt your friends. So, I uh, don't really have a right to be mad at you for throwing the duel. It's not your fault.”
A pause, before she nodded, a slight smile on her face. "Despite everything, we are friends… aren't we?”
A paused mid-chew, the words sinking in deeper than she expected.
“She figured that out just by looking at me?” she asked in mild disbelief. When VV nodded, A exhaled, her shoulders slumping as she tried to process what that meant. She wasn’t sure why she felt the way she did. Perhaps it was because it hadn’t been obvious to her way back when. Or maybe it was because she didn’t even know herself entirely, yet here was this person who had figured out something significant about her in less time than it had taken her to hit the ground.
Thankfully, VV’s question drew A’s attention back to her. “Yeah,” she said after a long pause. “I think we are.” She stared for a bit before shifting her gaze to break the intensity of the moment.
“But that might not be as great as it sounds.”
VV couldn't help the grimace that crossed her face. A tried to show that she was strong, but she was a lot like her. There was pain under the surface.
”It smells delicious.” The entity in VV's mind and body chimed in.
”Shut up.” VV chimed back in her mind, not missing a beat as she shifted a bit at the bars of her cell.
”Well, not that I really get this whole ‘fallaway' thing, but perhaps… we’re a bit lucky? Val is sticking his neck out for us. And Wren-” She glanced over at the man, ”Even wants to come with us. Maybe, things are looking up.”
She laughed a little sarcastically, trying to make a joke. ”Makes me almost forget about the spacey laser cannon aimed right at us if we mess up, eh?”
A chewed thoughtfully, her gaze flitting to VV’s pained expression before resting upon the meagre ration clasped in her hand. Her laughter after her optimistic words, which should have lightened the atmosphere, seemed too faint and laced with sarcasm to resonate with A’s ears.
“Lucky…” she echoed softly, as if savouring the syllables upon her tongue. After a contemplative pause, she acquiesced with a reluctant, “Maybe,” though her tone unmistakably hinted at her lingering doubts. Her gaze shifted toward Val and then to Wren, observing their expressions as she wrestled with her emotions. The notion of others electing to stand by them—choosing her—should have instilled a sense of comfort, yet it only served to tighten the constricting knot in her stomach. It transcended mere trust; it encompassed an overwhelming sense of responsibility, an acute awareness of the burden of not disappointing them amidst the bleakness of their shared plight.
“We have people who are genuinely putting themselves on the line for us, don’t we?” A expressed with a resigned tone. “But what happens if we mess up again? If I mess up again?”
The screech of tires echoed in her ears, unbidden, the memory surfacing with cruel clarity. The wind in her hair, the laughter spilling from her lips, the carefree chorus of their favourite song—before everything went wrong. She could almost experience the jarring lurch of the vehicle as it careened, the ear-splitting sound of glass exploding into a thousand shards. A tightness constricted her chest, reminiscent of her terrified grip on the seat, knuckles turned bone-white in distress. The world around her twisted in a chaotic whirlwind, an alarming amalgamation of sky and earth, until the catastrophic collision occurred, the repulsive crunch of metal contorting and fracturing.
A blinked rapidly, her focus slipping back to the present, but the phantom scent of asphalt and gasoline remained in her mind.
“You know…” she started, her voice faltering for a moment. “I’ve screwed up before, and people got hurt. Someone I cared about…” She trailed off, the haunting image of her best friend’s lifeless form seared vividly into her memory. A’s hands balled into trembling fists resting in her lap, as she summoned the courage to meet VV’s gaze once more. “It’s not just about messing up. It’s about… not being able to fix it. Watching it happen and knowing you can’t do anything to stop it.”
She exhaled shakily, her voice dropping lower. “That’s what scares me. Not the fight, not the pain—just… letting someone down again.” After she'd said this, A couldn’t bring herself to meet VV’s gaze. Instead, her eyes fell on the ration bar she had set aside. “So yeah, maybe things are looking up. Maybe this is lucky. But luck doesn’t last. Not for people like us.”
”It's true.”
Immediately, A would feel a suffocating, clawing, choking presence surrounding her. It bit at her edges, as if trying to choke her and drown her at the same time. Her vision was taken, and instead of the Ghost Corp barracks, she instead saw a grey and dismal expanse, with stones floating in the air, and a moon hanging in the gray. There was a figure staring down at her. It was hard to tell, but this shadowy, colossal being, easily could have been the size of a mountain.
"You are cursed to meet me. Cursed to bring my darkness into the world. Cursed to have a fate that some may call… worse than death.
“Struggle. Delay. Drown in apathy. It doesn't matter what you do. These feelings, this pain, opens the doors to my domain. Opens the doors to me. And you will be my harbinger.”
And, in the next instant, the collosal titan was gone, as well as the grey expanse. A was back in the barracks, VV's mouth moving at her.
”A…? A? Did you hear what I said?”
A blinked rapidly, her eyelids fluttering as her vision coalesced to reveal VV’s worried visage peering intently at her. Her friend’s lips continued to move in a flurry of words, yet the sounds remained frustratingly elusive to her ears. With a palpable dryness in her throat, A swallowed hard, summoning every ounce of her willpower to anchor herself to the present moment.
“I…” she began, her voice momentarily faltering and cracking like fragile glass. She cleared her throat, striving to regain her composure and try one more. “I’m fine,” she uttered in a tone that betrayed her insincerity. The haunting phrases from the vision clung relentlessly to her mind, gnawing at her consciousness.
“This pain opens the doors to my domain.”
A’s thoughts surged forward with reckless spontaneity, even as she futilely endeavoured to suppress them. Had it been a figment of her imagination? Had the Ghost Corps played some kind of nefarious role, or was it her own psyche conspiring against her, excavating fresh terrors to augment the weight of past nightmares? In her heart, she longed to dismiss it as a deceptive trick of her fatigued mind, but an insidious doubt festered deep within her.
“What did you say?” A finally inquired, grappling with whether she was directing her question at VV or merely seeking reassurance from herself.
VV stared with a bit of concern, before she shook her head, trying to smile. “I was saying, you look kinda tired, A. Maybe we should call it a day. Fates know what tomorrow will bring…”
Interactions: Aldrick @SpicyMeatball
The lingering warmth of his breath held steadfast long after he had withdrawn, a ghostly sensation she dared not fully confront. Thalia’s delicate fingers hovered over the neck of the bottle, her gaze entranced by the amber liquid swirling within its confines. All the while, the hushed burn of his voice reverberated in her mind, low and molten, encircling the remnants of his words like tendrils of smoke.
At first, she refrained from watching him depart. Instead, she allowed her eyes to meander along the weathered grains of the table. There was something infuriating about the man and yet…something undeniably magnetic clung to him, a pull she found difficult to ignore. Her fingers caressed the bottle languidly, a touch that betrayed her contemplation. Only when she could no longer resist that irresistible pull did her gaze ascend, capturing the flicker of his retreating silhouette as he expertly navigated the bustling chaos of the tavern.
A soft exhale escaped Thalia’s lips, the corners curving upwards in a reluctant smile.
“Stonemason,” she whispered under her breath, the term like a riddle to her ears waiting to be solved. It danced in her mind as she considered its significance, its texture, its implications. What precisely had he intended by bestowing such a proposal upon her? The mere contemplation of unraveling that mystery ignited a thrill within her chest, a pulse of excitement that left her both curious and apprehensive.
Thalia’s fingers curled around the bottle now, more firmly this time, as if she had reached a resolution she was not entirely prepared to articulate aloud. She reclined in her chair, the aged wood creaking softly in protest of her movements, relishing the moment of tranquility before she allowed the drink to touch her lips. She paused, savoring the anticipation before taking a bit more than a couple of sips this time. The warmth that followed coursed through her, both invigorating and stabilizing.
Thalia found herself lost in contemplation once more, remembering the moment when his hand had been just above hers, the rugged texture of his knuckles grazing her skin. It invoked a shiver that coursed through her body like an electric current now. In that fleeting touch, there was an undeniable power but also a careful control, as though he’d known exactly what he was doing. He had bestowed the word "earned" into her lap like a challenge, daring her to rise to the occasion and prove herself worthy of such uncharted territory.
Thalia set the bottle down with a soft thud, her fingertips staying on the cool, smooth surface of the glass as if reluctant to part with the moment. The smirk that played at her lips deepened as she cast one final glance in the direction he’d disappeared.
“Bold,” she murmured to herself, her voice barely audible over the hum of the tavern. “But I’ve seen bolder.”
As she leaned back in her chair, a shadow fell across the table. Thalia's gaze lifted to behold a rather nervous gentleman—the very same one whom Elio had dismissed moments prior. With a hat clasped nervously between his hands, he offered her a hesitant yet hopeful smile that barely touched the corners of his lips.
“Did that chap give you any trouble, my lady?” he inquired, gesturing toward the direction which Elio had vanished. His concern appeared genuine, though it struck Thalia as endearing rather than intrusive. With an inquisitive tilt of her head, she scrutinized him for a moment, measuring the authenticity of his concern.
“Trouble?” the redhead echoed, reaching for the bottle once more only to discover it had succumbed to emptiness, prompting her to softly tap her fingers against the glass in a rhythm reminiscent of an absent melody. “No, I believe he’s endeavoring to sidestep it entirely. A pity, indeed,” she mused.
The man blinked, a palpable hesitation etched across his face. Thalia offered him a dismissive smile, an expression that suggested both indifference and subtle amusement, before rising gracefully to her feet with the empty bottle delicately cradled in her hand. “Pardon me,” she articulated, her voice imbued with an air of politeness yet underscored by an unmistakable chill. In silent awe, the man retreated slightly, his eyes widening in surprise as she seamlessly glided toward the center of the room, drawn to the vibrant strains of music.
The soft click of her boots against the floorboards was the only sound that accompanied her departure and subsequent arrival before the musician responsible for it.
Thalia cleared her throat.
“Excuse me, but are you at all familiar with any old Aurelian tunes?”
At first, she refrained from watching him depart. Instead, she allowed her eyes to meander along the weathered grains of the table. There was something infuriating about the man and yet…something undeniably magnetic clung to him, a pull she found difficult to ignore. Her fingers caressed the bottle languidly, a touch that betrayed her contemplation. Only when she could no longer resist that irresistible pull did her gaze ascend, capturing the flicker of his retreating silhouette as he expertly navigated the bustling chaos of the tavern.
A soft exhale escaped Thalia’s lips, the corners curving upwards in a reluctant smile.
“Stonemason,” she whispered under her breath, the term like a riddle to her ears waiting to be solved. It danced in her mind as she considered its significance, its texture, its implications. What precisely had he intended by bestowing such a proposal upon her? The mere contemplation of unraveling that mystery ignited a thrill within her chest, a pulse of excitement that left her both curious and apprehensive.
Thalia’s fingers curled around the bottle now, more firmly this time, as if she had reached a resolution she was not entirely prepared to articulate aloud. She reclined in her chair, the aged wood creaking softly in protest of her movements, relishing the moment of tranquility before she allowed the drink to touch her lips. She paused, savoring the anticipation before taking a bit more than a couple of sips this time. The warmth that followed coursed through her, both invigorating and stabilizing.
Thalia found herself lost in contemplation once more, remembering the moment when his hand had been just above hers, the rugged texture of his knuckles grazing her skin. It invoked a shiver that coursed through her body like an electric current now. In that fleeting touch, there was an undeniable power but also a careful control, as though he’d known exactly what he was doing. He had bestowed the word "earned" into her lap like a challenge, daring her to rise to the occasion and prove herself worthy of such uncharted territory.
Thalia set the bottle down with a soft thud, her fingertips staying on the cool, smooth surface of the glass as if reluctant to part with the moment. The smirk that played at her lips deepened as she cast one final glance in the direction he’d disappeared.
“Bold,” she murmured to herself, her voice barely audible over the hum of the tavern. “But I’ve seen bolder.”
As she leaned back in her chair, a shadow fell across the table. Thalia's gaze lifted to behold a rather nervous gentleman—the very same one whom Elio had dismissed moments prior. With a hat clasped nervously between his hands, he offered her a hesitant yet hopeful smile that barely touched the corners of his lips.
“Did that chap give you any trouble, my lady?” he inquired, gesturing toward the direction which Elio had vanished. His concern appeared genuine, though it struck Thalia as endearing rather than intrusive. With an inquisitive tilt of her head, she scrutinized him for a moment, measuring the authenticity of his concern.
“Trouble?” the redhead echoed, reaching for the bottle once more only to discover it had succumbed to emptiness, prompting her to softly tap her fingers against the glass in a rhythm reminiscent of an absent melody. “No, I believe he’s endeavoring to sidestep it entirely. A pity, indeed,” she mused.
The man blinked, a palpable hesitation etched across his face. Thalia offered him a dismissive smile, an expression that suggested both indifference and subtle amusement, before rising gracefully to her feet with the empty bottle delicately cradled in her hand. “Pardon me,” she articulated, her voice imbued with an air of politeness yet underscored by an unmistakable chill. In silent awe, the man retreated slightly, his eyes widening in surprise as she seamlessly glided toward the center of the room, drawn to the vibrant strains of music.
The soft click of her boots against the floorboards was the only sound that accompanied her departure and subsequent arrival before the musician responsible for it.
Thalia cleared her throat.
“Excuse me, but are you at all familiar with any old Aurelian tunes?”
Oh hun it's ok. I used to watch a lot of anime. 
@ERode
@ERode@ERode nice...rockets.
Interactions/Mentions: @c3p-0h Amaya, @The Muse Flynn
As Flynn finally redirected his focus toward her, Elara instinctively straightened her posture, her fingers nervously clenching the fabric of her skirt. “There was… an attack,” she ventured cautiously. She took a moment to gather the fragments of the encounter that were still in her mind, searching for the right words to capture the dreadful events. “We encountered a man—a Blightborn. He ambushed us...and Amaya, she defended us, or tried to.”
Elara’s breath caught in her throat as the recollection arose, vivid and haunting—the whorls of ice cascading around her, the shocking flash of scarlet staining the pristine snow. “He injected her with something. His blood,” Elara continued. “He used it to manipulate her, to invade her mind. It was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. She managed to overpower him, but… it wasn’t just him we lost.”
Her eyes momentarily averted, and her shoulders tensed with the haunting resonance of Sir Abel's anguished cry reverberating within her mind. “One of the guards didn’t make it,” Elara murmured, her voice laden with an overwhelming sense of remorse. “The other tried to fight, but the Blightborn fled before we could stop him. We didn’t know how far he would go, or if he would return.” She raised her gaze to Flynn, her countenance revealing a profound weariness as she added, “Amaya’s magic saved us, but it’s... unstable. She’s still recovering from the strain and from whatever he injected her with. I brought her here because there was no time to take her back to her place. I had to protect her….”
Elara took a moment, her heart heavy, as her gaze once again settled on Amaya. “She possesses remarkable strength... yet she is not indomitable, you must understand. The cruel actions inflicted upon her have left her deeply rattled. I thought it best to call for you, to let you know where she is and what happened.” Turning her attention back to Flynn, her pale cerulean eyes locked with his, conveying a desperation that was hard for her to hide. “I ca- I couldn't lose her, Flynn. I implore you to assist me in ensuring that such a fate does not befall her.”
The words tumbled out before she could stop them, and heat crept up her neck, blooming across her cheeks. Realizing the intimacy of her plea, Elara dipped her head, her voice faltering as she quickly added, “I—I only meant to say, Your Highness… the Princess needs you. She needs us both.”
Elara’s breath caught in her throat as the recollection arose, vivid and haunting—the whorls of ice cascading around her, the shocking flash of scarlet staining the pristine snow. “He injected her with something. His blood,” Elara continued. “He used it to manipulate her, to invade her mind. It was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. She managed to overpower him, but… it wasn’t just him we lost.”
Her eyes momentarily averted, and her shoulders tensed with the haunting resonance of Sir Abel's anguished cry reverberating within her mind. “One of the guards didn’t make it,” Elara murmured, her voice laden with an overwhelming sense of remorse. “The other tried to fight, but the Blightborn fled before we could stop him. We didn’t know how far he would go, or if he would return.” She raised her gaze to Flynn, her countenance revealing a profound weariness as she added, “Amaya’s magic saved us, but it’s... unstable. She’s still recovering from the strain and from whatever he injected her with. I brought her here because there was no time to take her back to her place. I had to protect her….”
Elara took a moment, her heart heavy, as her gaze once again settled on Amaya. “She possesses remarkable strength... yet she is not indomitable, you must understand. The cruel actions inflicted upon her have left her deeply rattled. I thought it best to call for you, to let you know where she is and what happened.” Turning her attention back to Flynn, her pale cerulean eyes locked with his, conveying a desperation that was hard for her to hide. “I ca- I couldn't lose her, Flynn. I implore you to assist me in ensuring that such a fate does not befall her.”
The words tumbled out before she could stop them, and heat crept up her neck, blooming across her cheeks. Realizing the intimacy of her plea, Elara dipped her head, her voice faltering as she quickly added, “I—I only meant to say, Your Highness… the Princess needs you. She needs us both.”
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