You made yourself a bed
At the bottom of the blackest hole
At the bottom of the blackest hole
Alys had welcomed the darkness as it swallowed the land; it seemed more fitting of her mood than daylight and sunshine had. She grieved, of course, but worse than that was that she was slowly growing used to Sasha’s absence, and day by day she felt her numbness starting to recede. Some days were worse than others, but ever since she had spoken with Elizabeth about her loss, she’d somehow begun healing in a way that had previously seemed unimaginable. And that slow revelation was enough to send her down a rabbit hole of guilt. Sascha was dead, and there was nothing she could do to change that, and finding a way past her pain was… unfair, somehow, in a way that she couldn’t quite explain.
But she was trying to look forward, knowing that her companion would have wanted her to live a full and happy life, and no matter what her thoughts were on the matter, she owed it to Sascha to try.
More than that, she owed it to Tal and Boreal, too, who were still here and who had watched her wither away in the wake of Sascha’s death until her clothes clung to a too-thin frame and permanent circles seemed tattooed under her eyes. Enough time had passed that Alys had realized that her depression was something to be addressed, and so she’d been forcing herself to eat and breathe and live until she had some semblance of a daily routine, steadily climbing out of the black hole that seemed to have swallowed her in an effort to return to the land of the living.
So when LongNight fell, Alys had curled up with Tal in their nest of blankets, grumbling only a little when he left for food or drinks, and given herself permission, for the first time since Sascha’s death, to feel something other than pain, or guilt, or loss. If anything, Sascha’s loss had brought into sharp relief for Alys that relationships were precious, and hers with Tal more so than any other left in her life. So she loved, and she loved fiercely, trying her best to reassure her partner that while she wasn’t in the best mindset, she was still here.
When Tal returned from one such trip to get wine, Alys held out a hand to accept a refilled wine glass and offered a small smile to her partner, eyeing the small black gift box with curiosity. ”You didn’t have to do that,” she said, shrugging out of the blankets she’d wrapped around her shoulders and sitting up a little straighter to accept the gift. ”What is it?” she asked, peering first at the box and then at her partner, a little more life in her eyes in recent days than had been since Sascha’s death.
But she was trying to look forward, knowing that her companion would have wanted her to live a full and happy life, and no matter what her thoughts were on the matter, she owed it to Sascha to try.
More than that, she owed it to Tal and Boreal, too, who were still here and who had watched her wither away in the wake of Sascha’s death until her clothes clung to a too-thin frame and permanent circles seemed tattooed under her eyes. Enough time had passed that Alys had realized that her depression was something to be addressed, and so she’d been forcing herself to eat and breathe and live until she had some semblance of a daily routine, steadily climbing out of the black hole that seemed to have swallowed her in an effort to return to the land of the living.
So when LongNight fell, Alys had curled up with Tal in their nest of blankets, grumbling only a little when he left for food or drinks, and given herself permission, for the first time since Sascha’s death, to feel something other than pain, or guilt, or loss. If anything, Sascha’s loss had brought into sharp relief for Alys that relationships were precious, and hers with Tal more so than any other left in her life. So she loved, and she loved fiercely, trying her best to reassure her partner that while she wasn’t in the best mindset, she was still here.
When Tal returned from one such trip to get wine, Alys held out a hand to accept a refilled wine glass and offered a small smile to her partner, eyeing the small black gift box with curiosity. ”You didn’t have to do that,” she said, shrugging out of the blankets she’d wrapped around her shoulders and sitting up a little straighter to accept the gift. ”What is it?” she asked, peering first at the box and then at her partner, a little more life in her eyes in recent days than had been since Sascha’s death.
And convinced yourself that
It's not the reason you don't see the sun anymore
It's not the reason you don't see the sun anymore
Alys
Minor powerplay allowed without permission.
Feel free to use force/magic on Alys.
Emotional Telepathy | The user can read deep emotions of those within a 5 foot radius at will. Control is excellent. Note: "Deep emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
Emotional Perception | The user can read surface level emotions of those within a 15 foot radius. Control is moderate. Note: "Surface level emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
Feel free to use force/magic on Alys.
Emotional Telepathy | The user can read deep emotions of those within a 5 foot radius at will. Control is excellent. Note: "Deep emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
Emotional Perception | The user can read surface level emotions of those within a 15 foot radius. Control is moderate. Note: "Surface level emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
