Amalia
she was afraid of heights
"I don't see a queen here, just an egomaniac playing at power."
Amalia slides in next to Remi, placing her hand reassuringly on the blind man's shoulder without turning to meet his face, Jyoti cooing softly at her side. A rich fury blazes in onyx eyes, unimpressed with the stupid parchment and its stupid proclamation and the whole stupid thing. As far as she is concerned, there is no need to air grievances to Zariah because Zariah has no authority, just a piece of paper and some inflated fools who have decided to worship a demagogue. The group here- this is real power, authority, bonds of friendship and fire and blood forging a society stronger than any kingdom this unknown Outlander might proclaim.
Stepping forward, Amalia slashes out with a leopard's claws and tears the notice off the board, a fierce fury uncharacteristic of the quiet baker evident in her quivering form. Turning back to the assembled crown, the last remaining Chandrakant raises her chin defiantly, fangs apparent beneath her lips, a dangerous feline glint in her eyes. "This is our home, and I won't have some stranger telling us how to our lives, especially if she hasn't done shit to earn any such right." What had Zariah ever done but go into the Spire and release a scourge, trick a blind man into service and declare herself a Queen? Queen of her home, her land, her family, her friends. Amalia is not impressed, not afraid- she is enraged, her cool composure shattered, anxiety giving way to a molten core of emblazoned wrath.
Amalia slides in next to Remi, placing her hand reassuringly on the blind man's shoulder without turning to meet his face, Jyoti cooing softly at her side. A rich fury blazes in onyx eyes, unimpressed with the stupid parchment and its stupid proclamation and the whole stupid thing. As far as she is concerned, there is no need to air grievances to Zariah because Zariah has no authority, just a piece of paper and some inflated fools who have decided to worship a demagogue. The group here- this is real power, authority, bonds of friendship and fire and blood forging a society stronger than any kingdom this unknown Outlander might proclaim.
Stepping forward, Amalia slashes out with a leopard's claws and tears the notice off the board, a fierce fury uncharacteristic of the quiet baker evident in her quivering form. Turning back to the assembled crown, the last remaining Chandrakant raises her chin defiantly, fangs apparent beneath her lips, a dangerous feline glint in her eyes. "This is our home, and I won't have some stranger telling us how to our lives, especially if she hasn't done shit to earn any such right." What had Zariah ever done but go into the Spire and release a scourge, trick a blind man into service and declare herself a Queen? Queen of her home, her land, her family, her friends. Amalia is not impressed, not afraid- she is enraged, her cool composure shattered, anxiety giving way to a molten core of emblazoned wrath.
but she was much more afraid
of never flying
