a stern and stubborn rock
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#15

In this moment, two of Amalia's primary characteristics are locked in a battle for dominance. On the one hand is her piety: the starlit baker is loyal to her Gods, ardent and unshakable in her reverence, her faith. She would never doubt their wisdom, for to her, they are the world, the things that gave birth to everything, and thus they must be wise.

On the other hand, she is desperately curious, eager, ever, to know all things. Questions ignite and spark on her tongue, dancing like lightning, begging to be released. But to do so would be to lend credence to the ravings of the Voice, and Amalia remembers Safrin's displeasure, Frey's disdain, the darkness of the blight.

Luckily, Ronin makes the choice for her. She does not notice the change that comes over him until he speaks again, asking her (but which of them?) to stop, to move on, to end this back and forth. Swallowing hard, the girl stands down, suddenly aware of her companion's discomfort, guilty at not having seen it at first. "We'll leave," she says to the false goddess, to her friend. "We did not come here to fight with you. Though... If you truly did not start the blight, do you at least know how to stop it?"




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#16
the VOICE
"Tell them? Because they are so very willing to listen? Like the two of you, for example, who are so quick to judge me and yet have never asked nor heard my side of things." The Voice sniffed as if offended. "I think not. Rumours, gossip, this unfettered judgement...I have left all that behind now." She added almost wistfully.

With a glance towards Amalia, the goddess raised a careful brow. "For all your piety Amalia, you truly expect me to believe that you did not know what a trip to my shrine might entail?" No. Her voice suggested she did not believe that. Not for one second.

As for the blight?

"As I said, I have not stepped foot in the woods. I do not even know what you are talking about. But I'm sure your gods, Frey and Rae especially probably have it under control. Don't they always, after all?"

Coding base by Sky!
Ronin Taliesin
the Supernova


Age: 34 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#17
the things we hold are always the first to go
It didn't seem as though the Voice had left it all behind - far from it, indeed. But that was not Ronin's place to say - none of this felt like it was his place to say. He was reminded of his meetings, however brief, with the General of the Storm, and the soldier in him fell silent in the wake of something so much more than what he was.

He was already stepping away when the Voice spoke more about the blight in the Greatwood and gave her stab at the Old Gods. Ronin swallowed hard, and nodded. "Thank you for speaking with us," he muttered, wanting desperately out of the situation but knowing better than to turn his back on a goddess.
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#18

Deflection of responsibility. Rejection of fault. Amalia cannot say she is surprised by the Voice's easy denial of her part: it is always the way of such figures, such people, to slink away from any blame. Of course the being is misunderstood; of course she is misjudged, ultimately guiltless in this tableau. It is all the girl can do to keep from rolling her flinty eyes, a glare growing hot beneath her brows, ire rising once more in her breast.

Luckily Ronin is level headed, at least compared to the baker. Where she might stay to argue, to defend her gods, he clearly sees there is no reason in doing so. Swallowing her retort Amalia curtly nods, glancing at the guildmaster as he makes an obvious move to leave. She will not thank the Voice, but she will not belittle her further, either.

Stepping away with Ronin, the girl feels tension in every line of her figure, a shiver of displeasure and metallic taste at the whole encounter.




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