Isla
to share the space with simple living things, infinitely suffering
If someone had told Isla she'd end her time at the Midwinter Ball by strolling through snowy streets to spend the night at a brothel, of all things... well. She'd not have laughed in your face, given her contributions to the House of Midnight, but let's just say it wouldn't be the first on her list of possibilities. Nonetheless here they are, descending into The Last Whisper towards the Dusklight, the Remedy having buttoned her coat and donned gloves and a scarf to keep the biting chill at bay.
"None of this existed when I last lived in the Hollowed Grounds," she murmurs to Everest as they go, her blue eyes taking in new shops and boutiques, twinkling lights and bars still bubbling with conversation, until the redbrick building of the Dusklight drifts into view. "So this is the place?"
"None of this existed when I last lived in the Hollowed Grounds," she murmurs to Everest as they go, her blue eyes taking in new shops and boutiques, twinkling lights and bars still bubbling with conversation, until the redbrick building of the Dusklight drifts into view. "So this is the place?"
fighting off like all creation, the absence of itself
