i bloom just for you
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
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JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#1
AmaLiA
the shield of safrin
Amalia sits before the shrine just as she has on countless other occasions, her legs crossed beneath her, her staff on her lap. Dark eyes close as the girl breathes deeply, though whether to clear her mind or to hide her fear remains uncertain. The last time she was here had been disaster and brimstone, and despite the fact that the Blight seems to be clearing, she has no guarantee that her goddess is well. The idea terrifies Amalia because of what it means, both for Safrin and herself.

Because she has made promises she must keep, as impossible as those vows may be.

A small herd of luxere surrounds the shrine, and the girl focuses on their sound as she tries to still her thoughts. Inhale, exhale: Jyoti is helpful, calming starlight flooding the shrine both from their light fixture and the small whale. Still the Shield can feel her heartbeat thundering in her chest, and she wonders if Safrin can hear it, too. It is the only offering she makes today, song and supplication absent from her tongue. Everything feels too small and self-centered, as though she believes anything she can give is adequate for the being who has gifted her so much. All she has to give is herself, as little as she may be.



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you're breaking your own heart


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#2
"I helped make the luxere, you know." That wasn't strictly true, but it wasn't untrue either. "I created a patch of stars in the sky, and when Rae asked what I was doing, I said it was a herd of deer with stars for eyes and antlers made of comet-trails." Safrin said with a smile, before looking towards Amalia. Tucking her feet up beneath her skirts as she sat atop the shrine, the goddess' eyes now sparkled with heightened clarity.

Dropping down elegantly, she reached out a hand for Amalia to take, her red lips pulling down into a sweet frown. "I'm so sorry for how I spoke to you. I was not...well, you know. But never the less."
SAFRIN
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
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#3
AmaLiA
the shield of safrin
Like midnight, like stars, the goddess appears, and Amalia finds herself breathtaken again by Safrin's beauty, as though she were seeing it for the first time. "Safrin," she breathes, reverent and adoring, her dark eyes turning upward, transfixed upon the being. As the deity descends the Shield rises, letting her hand be taken by her goddess, almost clinging, almost brazen as she clutches the supple stardust skin, feeling the pads of Safrin's fingers as though not sure if they will fade away.

The last time she felt these fingers they were on her chin, threatening to snap her mortal neck. It is a memory Amalia cannot help but dwell on, one that has haunted her dreams in the nights sense. There is no judgement or anger as the girl looks upon her goddess: how could there be, when Safrin has done nothing wrong, when it is Amalia who thought to make herself more than she is? "I-" she begins, but falters, bites it off. It does not matter what she has done, what she thinks

Still, there are unsaid things on the tip of her tongue: did you mean the things you said? Did you truly feel that way? Do you still feel it now? Selfish questions once again, and she tries to bury them down. "Are you well now?" the baker wonders instead, searching in her eyes for signs of the blight. "Did the Vi- did the roses work?"
you're breaking your own heart


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#4
Folding her fingers around Amalia's Safrin offers the girl's hand a welcome and warm squeeze. Starlight rifles through the contact making the baker feel both light, and cosmically-weighty all at once. Meeting Amalia's gaze the deity sighs fosftly. She can feel Amalia's thoughts as wild as any beast whirling about. But they go unsaid, and so Safrin does not comment on them. "He came to me not terribly long after you did , with roses plucked just for me." She says softly, her expression betraying none of what that conversation actually entailed. "I am indeed well now. Thank you for coming to see me when you did. I truly am sorry for the things I said while blighted. It...twists meanings and makes lies seem like the truth."
SAFRIN
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
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#5
AmaLiA
the shield of safrin
Looking up at Safrin's face, the girl bites her lip, something between happiness and lingering doubt in her open expression as she listens to the goddess apologize again. It isn't an apology Amalia wants, but the girl isn't sure what she does want, only to feel right in the world once more, that she understands the role she plays and why it is she plays it. "Was it all lies?" the baker wonders aloud, her voice barely more than a whisper, not releasing Safrin's hand. "If there is... something I can do better."

Dropping her eyes from the deity's, her voice grows even quieter. "Or if I should... should stop trying."
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#6
Very few see the soft side of Safrin, as haughty and prideful as she can be. With an almost maternal sigh, she pulled Amalia to her, wrapping one arm around the girls' back while the other softly combs through her hair. "It was all lies, Amalia." She promises. "Imperfection is part of who you are...it would be a lie to say there is not anything you could do better, but that isn't why I cherish you so. It is your heart and soul, the very core of who you are." Safrin continues, starlight pulsing softly with each word.

"I would not change you for all the stars in the sky."
SAFRIN
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
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#7
AmaLiA
the shield of safrin
The urge to cry is monumental; through some incredible force of will Amalia manages to let only a handful of tears fall as the goddess - a goddess - strokes her hair, the way her grandmother did when she was a child. If anyone had suggested she'd be in this situation even a year ago the girl would not have believed them for a minute; now, though, it feels like this is the place where she belongs.

To be cherished, to be accepted, to be loved- "Thank you, Safrin," the girl breathes, a heavy weight falling off her chest, a smile curling at her lips. "I'll keep... I'll do my best. To deserve it."

Pulling away reluctantly, the Shield smiles up at the mother of stars, trying to resist the urge to remain forever in the incredible light of the deity. The smile falters a little as Amalia remembers the other questions she had to ask, the other weight she carries. Biting her lip, the girl frowns, turning her eyes to where Jyoti is attempting to drape herself over Safrin's shoulders. "Safrin... have you heard about Ludo? And Roana? Do... do the old gods really want us to kill all the Ascended?"
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#8
"You always do." Safrin muses, and indeed it's true. Integrity is one of the baker's most foundational qualities. Even in her failures, she always does all that she is capable of.

Frowning at the question, Safrin flicks her wrist. As she does, the snow covering the shrine is instantly gone. Sitting and patting the spot next to her, she turns Amalia's shoulders so that her back is facing her and begins to slowly plait the Shield's long hair. "Yes, I have heard." Even blighted, she knew what Ludo had done. What it had said and what the repercussions were.

"Your question isn't so straightforward. Mort would never stand for that sort of order to be given. The Voice holds the souls of those she has created. To kill them, if it can be called that, would be to condemn those souls to an eternity of nothingness." Her fingers, dexterous, weave the baker's golden hair. "But Ludo..had its own thoughts. The souls of a few, to crush what might be another war wherein countless more die?" The goddess shrugs. "A tempting solution...though not one it explicitly asked of Roana. Merely it told her to prove herself. It was she who connected those particular dots."
SAFRIN
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
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#9
AmaLiA
the shield of safrin
If anyone had told her even this morning that she would be sitting on a shrine while Safrin braided her hair, Amalia would have laughed in uproarious disbelief. Yet here she is, her back to the goddess, the beautiful necklace of charms and stars glittering on her exposed neck as celestial fingers pull back her long, unruly locks.

That Mort would not want the Ascended culled is another weight off Amalia's shoulders, reassurance that her understanding of her Gods is not entirely off base. And to hear that Roana had invented the task she defended so ardently is more of a surprise than it should be, perhaps. "There has to be another way," Amalia replies somewhat dubiously. She does not want to bear witness to war, but she has no illusions of any ability to affect its occurrence in a real way.

The fingers in her hair are incredibly soothing, and even as Safrin's comments trouble her the Shield cannot help but relax into the gentle ministrations. "Is there a way to retrieve the souls?" Of those who still live and those who don't, to save them from the condemnation of an eternity in the dark. "What about the Prince? Does it have a soul? Is there any way it can be helped?"
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#10
Safrin merely hums a note of not-quite agreement in response. For 300 years, she's been waiting for another way. A solution that doesn't just involve entrapment. And now that the barrier is down and the Voice is up to her old tricks? Well. The goddess has heard precisely little from her betters about what they are all actually going to do about it.

"Ludo tried, once. The Voice came to it asking for a way to utilize its mask, when it had been stolen." The mask Ludo had given to Remi, subsequently stolen by Lucas. "It bartered for a group of souls to be released in exchange for the power she sought. So I suppose there is precedent, yes. But she believes that where she keeps the souls is better for them than being with Mort." Which, biased as she was, Safrin still couldn't believe to be true.

Raising a brow at the mention of the Prince, Safrin shrugs. "I ... do not think it does. It was created, not given life by Vi."
SAFRIN
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

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#11
AmaLiA
the shield of safrin
"Oh." Amalia remembers Remi telling her about losing Ludo's mask, but she had not know that it was taken by the Voice. But to hear that the souls of those she knows and loves are kept captive, that should Wessex die she will be condemned to nothingness for eternity- well. It makes the girl shiver a little, that such things are used as bargaining chips in the Voice's game of chess.

Not being able to help the Prince is also discouraging. Shoulders slumping, Amalia frowns. "Even so... is there a way to help it?" To let it at least have some facsimile of life, instead of exile and self loathing and sickness?

But the topic of Ludo brings her back around, and Amalia rubs her bare wrist nervously, remembering where the scars from last LongNight used to be. "Remi... he made a promise to Ludo, to look for those who were locked out in LongNight. And I promised to help him." It's less question than confession, as she might have admitted it to her grandmother. "But I'm... I'm scared. I... I don't want to die again. I have too much to live for, now."
you're breaking your own heart


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#12
"Help it?" Safrin replies, her fingers pulling slightly at the ends of Amalia's hair to cause just enough pressure such that shivers will race up and down the baker's spine. "Honestly, I do not know why it was created. What its...purpose is. I think you'd need to know that in order to help it. From what I have seen it is programmed to be as it is; gaseous and fearful. What the Voice was trying to accomplish, I have no idea."

Sighing softly, Safrin merely nods. "Many have made such vows." She agrees, though whether she means this year in particular or over the centuries is unclear. Probably both. "All of our powers are muted during the week... I would offer you immortality if it was mine to give, but we both know it isn't." Humming to herself and considering gently, Safrin twitches her lips. "What do you think you need? To help you in this?"
SAFRIN
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
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#13
AmaLiA
the shield of safrin
Amalia does indeed shiver at the pressure on her scalp. "Do you think it might be written somewhere? We... we are going to go back down to the library, to try and find more information. Maybe there are answers in the Underground." Again Amalia rubs her wrist, thoughtful and far away. She would really rather not ask the Voice, but perhaps one of the Ascended could help.

"I wouldn't want to be immortal," Amalia admits, shaking her head emphatically. "I just... if I die - if I see them again - I don't know if..." If I can come back. If I can bear it.

When the goddess asks her what she needs, the baker nibbles her lip in thought. "Well... I'm stronger now. And I have the antlers. And Jyo." The starwhale trills her agreement, though Amalia is anxious as to whether the whale will be in danger during the long night. Which isn't to mention her friends, who lack the protection of the luxere staff yet still intend to go into the night. "Last year the dream fish protected people. Will there be more this year?"
you're breaking your own heart


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#14
"I doubt the library will hold the answers, but it is worth trying I suppose." The goddess can of course feel the hesitation as thoughts of the Voice swirl in the back of Amalia's mind. Silently Safrin feels the very same, not that the Voice would ever deign to speak with her about such matters even were she to ask.

'Well, even that sort of longevity is not necessarily mine to give." Safrin says softly. Such things belong to Mort and by extension Ludo. Even Rae and Frey might be able to work some magic here, but not Safrin.

"If some are brought to me. I cannot touch them myself." Safrin explains, hopelessly confusing Amalia's timeline, but you asked for this. "But," Placing a hand on Amalia's shoulder, she motions for the baker to turn and face her. Close enough that ever star-crated pour on Safrin's perfect skin was visible in the starlight, the deity smiles softly. "You are stronger yes, but there is so much more than you know. Here." Safrin sits up straight, crossing her legs and placing her hands on her knees, palms up. She relaxes into the pose while maintaining near perfect posture.

Cracking open an eye and indicating that Amalia should mirror her, Safrin inhales deeply. As she does, the world dissolves into a crimson-periwinkle haze, infused with lavender and woodsmoke.
SAFRIN


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