WESSEX
the wraith
Sometimes you hear of the hysterical strength, the thing that happens to mothers when their children are in danger. This is not it, for Wessex is rarely hysterical, and the child she helped raise is now half-stranger, half-against her, and well - no longer a child. But there is something that rises in her, that gives the Wraith a kind of desperate energy, something that fuels her and presses her to disregard the damage done to her body. She recognizes it as something that comes along during a fight and keeps her going because she must- you can call it whatever you wish. “AMALIAAAAA!” Wessex continues to yell at the collapsing building, as it becomes apparent that Jyoti is there, but the white bird is not. Pushing herself to two legs, Wessex stumble-runs to the rubble, Amalia’s scream of pain reaching her ears. She is a woman with a singular purpose now: move the rocks, get Ama out,
Just the way she did at the Spire, she moves rocks by hand, straining, abandoning everything to tunnel vision. “Jyoti! Jyoti, keep her there, oh Lady -”
There’s fluid leaking from her eyes, shiny little streaks that run clean lines through the dust that’s settling on her face. “Ama, stay with me, ok? Don’t move, we’re coming.” Or she is, at least. Everyone else be damned. Everyone else can get healers and Deimos and whatever the fuck you're supposed to do, but Wessex was going to be right here.
she's pullin' the trigger
cause it's me and the moon, she says
and i have no trouble with that
