Amalia
the shield of safrin
Perhaps finding solace in the arms (rags?) of a god of death is not something an outlander might understand, but for Amalia it is a strangely comfortable thing, a natural place for her to be. The fabric draped around her shoulders is incredibly comforting and inviting; she lets her heavy eyes fall shut, leaning so her cheek brushes on the porcelain mask.
"I don't want to do a disservice to him." The memories that rush into Amalia's mind are hot enough to sear, bright and beautiful and almost tangible enough that she could cling to him, if only she tried.
Adam in her shop on that fateful first meeting, offering to make out with her, the blush on her cheeks; Adam in her bedroom looking at the stars and telling her about himself, the scars on his chin, while she lay beside him as high as a kite. The two of them facing down the cat sith in Ludo's woods; the weird introduction of Peter and Deimos.
Adam holding her in that infirmary bed, when she thought she would never smile again, and somehow, someway, against all odds, making her laugh.
"What do we do with the memories, Ludo? How do we keep them from disappearing?" With time, with new experiences, with pain. Her mother, her grandmother, the countless others she's lost. "Is there a way... a way to give them life? To, to make sure they don't fade away, even when they're in Mort's realm?"
"I don't want to do a disservice to him." The memories that rush into Amalia's mind are hot enough to sear, bright and beautiful and almost tangible enough that she could cling to him, if only she tried.
Adam in her shop on that fateful first meeting, offering to make out with her, the blush on her cheeks; Adam in her bedroom looking at the stars and telling her about himself, the scars on his chin, while she lay beside him as high as a kite. The two of them facing down the cat sith in Ludo's woods; the weird introduction of Peter and Deimos.
Adam holding her in that infirmary bed, when she thought she would never smile again, and somehow, someway, against all odds, making her laugh.
"What do we do with the memories, Ludo? How do we keep them from disappearing?" With time, with new experiences, with pain. Her mother, her grandmother, the countless others she's lost. "Is there a way... a way to give them life? To, to make sure they don't fade away, even when they're in Mort's realm?"
she is calm in the storm
and anxious in the quiet
and anxious in the quiet
