AURELIA
and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be
maybe they never will be
"I think you could put up a bit of a fight," she grinned playfully. There was a challenge in her voice as she brought her hand up to gently elbow him in the ribs, "it gets easier with practice." The mirth in her eyes slowly faded as she reminded herself of how she knew that.
Aurelia spent many long days and nights training carefully with her mentor, in the art of fighting... of killing and assassinating; moving in the shadows and striking when the time was right. Hand-to-hand combat was often involved, as well, for those close encounters, for when things went wrong. While she appreciated the skills and the grit she now possessed because of that, her reason for it felt like a stain on her character that she couldn't wash away. She wanted to carve it out of her past, to cut it free so that she could be relieved of the guilt that haunted her. All those lives, lost. There were those that had never really put up much of a fight. Many of them were like Milo in that way, just trying to run...
She flinched, clenching her teeth and her fist, looking away with a quick turn of her head in the hopes that he wouldn't notice. It was an involuntary reaction, a sharp, painful disdain for her thoughtless actions and the consequences they now held against her. It pained her.
"What is LongNight, anyway?" she asked in an attempt to join him in his normalcy, voice slightly thick with upset. But still, she glanced back up at him and tried to brush these things off. Her brows pressed together thoughtfully, "I keep hearing people talk about it."
Aurelia spent many long days and nights training carefully with her mentor, in the art of fighting... of killing and assassinating; moving in the shadows and striking when the time was right. Hand-to-hand combat was often involved, as well, for those close encounters, for when things went wrong. While she appreciated the skills and the grit she now possessed because of that, her reason for it felt like a stain on her character that she couldn't wash away. She wanted to carve it out of her past, to cut it free so that she could be relieved of the guilt that haunted her. All those lives, lost. There were those that had never really put up much of a fight. Many of them were like Milo in that way, just trying to run...
She flinched, clenching her teeth and her fist, looking away with a quick turn of her head in the hopes that he wouldn't notice. It was an involuntary reaction, a sharp, painful disdain for her thoughtless actions and the consequences they now held against her. It pained her.
"What is LongNight, anyway?" she asked in an attempt to join him in his normalcy, voice slightly thick with upset. But still, she glanced back up at him and tried to brush these things off. Her brows pressed together thoughtfully, "I keep hearing people talk about it."
but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep
when you're ready to sleep
