Ophelia
we're just two ghosts
swimming in a glass half empty
swimming in a glass half empty
Ophelia's fighting has been entirely shaped by their previous Ascended brethren, but their handiness with the scythe is something that dates back much further. It is an extension of their arm, a limb like any other, and as their counterpart ducks its swing with easy grace, the delight of the rhythm they share washes away any trepidation or fear. They fight back-to-back, only stepping outside of the unspoken radius to cut through swathes of spiders before returning. A lonely creature prone to finding family wherever even a shadow of it exists, Ophelia is ecstatic.
"We are never as alone as we think," Ophelia's sweet, dreamlike tone responds, a phrase that would otherwise be ominous instead delivered with something like awe. "I was not allowed to leave my family farm. Are you a Grounder too?" Another twirl of the scythe, and then a burst of fire from the nearby lantern surges toward Ophelia's grasping hand, obliterating a few more spiders on the way toward their beckoning call. Something eager and dazzled shines in their voice as they ask, riveted by this warped mirror of a person they've discovered.
"We are never as alone as we think," Ophelia's sweet, dreamlike tone responds, a phrase that would otherwise be ominous instead delivered with something like awe. "I was not allowed to leave my family farm. Are you a Grounder too?" Another twirl of the scythe, and then a burst of fire from the nearby lantern surges toward Ophelia's grasping hand, obliterating a few more spiders on the way toward their beckoning call. Something eager and dazzled shines in their voice as they ask, riveted by this warped mirror of a person they've discovered.
trying vainly to forget
the pain that came with heartbeats
the pain that came with heartbeats
