emptiness in harmony

evie The kind of flawless I wish I could be It only hurts all the more to see the gears turning through Amalia's guileless face, to know that she's blaming The Voice and what she did for the Gods' prejudice. As if they have not had years upon years of peace and silence from the Abandoned after a singular injustice. As if Evie had not prayed and thrown herself upon every shrine, begging to Attune, to even just prove herself. Silence had killed her hope in the Gods more than bitter words or hatred ever could. There's nothing more Amalia can do for her that wouldn't feel like a cheap consolation prize, gritted smiles and briefly shook hands all because their darling Shield asked of it, not because Evie was actually worth any of their attention. It's why she cuts off the opportunity she knows Amalia would offer - can't bear to hear it, not when it will just bring all those feelings back in an array of knives. She can't handle any more right now, already feeling sore and wounded inside in so many other ways. But at least there's the news that Sam has apparently left The Voice's side, and surprise wars with relief on Evie's emotional features. It's hard to coordinate the jumble of her thoughts, the million questions that try to rear their head collectively in a din of noise that she can only blink through. "And will it last? Physically, can he?" Perhaps it's pessimistic, but Amalia has always been the dreamer, the girl with her head caught in the stars. Evie has never been allowed that kind of daydreaming fantasy. She is too well-rooted, too worn and faded, for such hope. It's why she does nothing more than lean into Amalia's embrace, the denial having already been expected in some measure. Evie knows her sister after all, and even if this mounting fervor against the Ascended makes her withdraw in some measure from the other woman, it's not something that will impact the initial question of the position. "And you know I won't leave homeless anyone who seeks a home here. I know. I know." Her dirt stained hands go back to her hair, tugging at the strands until her eyes water to try and gain some semblance of control over her spiraling emotions. "I just...wanted to ask. And if you know of anyone else, to let me know. I won't cripple the Grounds with my refusal to work with the Gods." And she knows that's what would happen, because the Gods want to be needed. They stick their noses into every mortal affair except the ones that matter. Bitterness swells in her breast once more, and she drags her calloused palms down her face to shutter herself into darkness. Amalia's warmth the only physical sensation she can cling to. "My magic continues to grow no matter what I do. And despite it all, I was not strong enough to face the monsters behind the door. And Millicent and her kids died because of it." The admission that will end it all, she's sure. Or start it, perhaps. The accusations, the anger, the vitriol. All because Evie was not a Shield, was not a Chosen one, was not anything good enough. But at least, in the end, she can claim to be honest.