Rating out of Ten

Amalia It doesn't feel like a year. The Amalia of a year ago would never have been here, bold enough to be furious with her friend, confident enough to sit in the shadow of her lover and feel further illuminated rather than snuffed. She doesn't say any of that, though, because that would mean speaking to Adam who she is doing her best to pointedly ignore. Instead she keeps her gaze on Peter, shrugging as he asks if things weren't as good. "Most of the Outlanders had arrived recently," Amalia replies softly, glancing up at Deimos. "It was the first time the Spark Bird came in years, though. And the Luxere were plentiful." And then, because she wants to answer Adam's question without answering Adam, she attempts to shoehorn it in. "They're.. they're very good creatures. The light from their antlers- it can keep any darkness away. Even Longnight darkness." reach for the stars: but child, first recognize the constellations of light you already carry inside you

after fury

what do you do

The Sword purposefully meandered around the notions that a year ago Amalia had died, a year ago they’d been meandering around in and amongst the abyss with panic, apprehension, and something dreadfully akin to ignorance. They were still stuck in the latter, but encouraged by the notions of what they’d experienced, thought they’d be more-equipped to handle the legions of monsters and fiends, to hide beneath their noses, or to directly defy them when they opened the doors, when they chased down broken remnants of friends. LongNight made him restless, curled and contorted over his frame, as if it purposefully insinuated he could only do so much, awaiting the inevitable, or brandishing irreverent wares. Sometimes, it simply didn’t matter, and the lack of control bristled at his skin.

But he didn’t have much else to contribute here either, his eyes flickering down at Amalia at the mention of Outlanders, still the title after they’d immersed themselves within, because they weren’t natural, but tried, hastened, to do their best. At the notion of the luxere though, he shrugged; innocent and pure and good, everything a majority of them were not. “You can encourage them to remain by singing,” which, if he were in a better mood, would’ve made him chuckle at the very least – because his attempts had been close to disastrous had it not been for Amalia’s efforts (though he did reserve a smirk for her, a pulse of lifting raptures).

with the remains?

DEIMOS

I thought that love was in the drugs

But the more I took, the more it took away

Okay but weird. If Adam hadn't known Pet better he would have been offended. Anyone who had gotten to date Adam Pikely would be expected to say it was the best year of their entire fucking life, but Pet had gone through a decent amount here in Caido as they all had, so he stayed quiet. Still, he hoped he was a part of the 'okay' side.

Amalia's ignoring was noticed and Adam rolled his eyes with an amused smile. If she was bothered by this, she would have been mortified by half the stuff that had been said in bars in his old life.

"I don't know a lot of Luxere-appropriate songs, I don't think." Adam admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. Somehow he suspected that radiant and serene creatures of light wouldn't like the kind of songs he knew, the ones with ten different rhymes for cock. "Do you do much singing then, Deimos?"

And I could never get enough

ADAM