REXANNA
She doesn’t know what they’ve set out to do. All she knows of what her daughter has been up to, is of the blight and hopefully the recovery from it. Everything else is up to Deimos, in her eyes, to deal with. And she trusts him to take it on, because she is absolutely in no position to do it. Nor is she in much of a position to help, unable to see, broken, bits and pieces missing, having to be led from place to place. She’s thankful for the bandana that Deimos has made her, if only for the comfort of covering her eyes from the darkness within.
But it still doesn’t really stop the black streak marks that cascade down her face like tears. Bruising perhaps?
A familiar voice reaches her, one she hasn’t heard in a long time, and she remains sitting in the chair they’ve placed her in, thinking over her thoughts because what else can she do? She can’t sleep, and so she’s ran through her systems over and over and over again. Her head lifts toward the sound, some form of curiosity coming through. “Jigano?” She asks, because she’s uncertain. Because she can’t see the bard.
“Better, I think. It feels the same, really.” She offers in honesty. Without feeling pain? There wasn’t much to go off of. “Thank you for helping me, by the way.” A shoulder rises and falls in a shrug, but she tries to aim a small smile his way. “How are you doing?”
But it still doesn’t really stop the black streak marks that cascade down her face like tears. Bruising perhaps?
A familiar voice reaches her, one she hasn’t heard in a long time, and she remains sitting in the chair they’ve placed her in, thinking over her thoughts because what else can she do? She can’t sleep, and so she’s ran through her systems over and over and over again. Her head lifts toward the sound, some form of curiosity coming through. “Jigano?” She asks, because she’s uncertain. Because she can’t see the bard.
“Better, I think. It feels the same, really.” She offers in honesty. Without feeling pain? There wasn’t much to go off of. “Thank you for helping me, by the way.” A shoulder rises and falls in a shrug, but she tries to aim a small smile his way. “How are you doing?”
A Light That Never Goes Out.
