it was all yellow and blue

WESSEX

There’s a distinct memory - tactile and emotional - about the sun and how it feels. She’s unsure if it will ever fade, but as Wessex stands on the beach of one of the Kaul’i Isles and tilts her face towards the brightest bubble as a cloud drifts past it, she pretends she can feel it again. This is the blessing of time and persistence; the ability to stay out more and more during the day, the ability to almost (haha) pass for a non-Ascended. The Wraith - both her the person and her the persona - might never truly shed her cloak. But the truth is that she no longer needs it.

And that makes her little mechanical heart sing.

Laying down in the hot sand, the pale blonde (ok, so that will never change) checks in with her sensors every now and then, ready to move into the shade of the trees at the slightest hint of a sizzle in her veins.

No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all