Aurelia
and that the world is always our fault
when we did nothing, how did we do wrong?
when we did nothing, how did we do wrong?
That... does not sound like Melita's voice. It sounds like someone else... but Aurelia can't name who. Her mind feels like its suddenly made of goop and she has to keep it from falling out of her ears. "Oh, that's weird," she repeats, cupping one of her ears with her hand.
But she's fighting, and the line drawn between real fight and practice fight is suddenly blurred. She lands the hit against her assailant (who's both far away and very close) with a vigor that might scream that she's trying to inflict a serious injury. They fall, or duck, or both. It's hard to tell from this ever-changing, warped angle.
Ever-changing indeed, as Aurelia is suddenly dropped from her upright position. The staff becomes an extended arm, drawing out towards her until it hooks in against the back of her knees. Aurelia's legs give out and her hands reach out to grab hold of... balance, but they fail miserably. Yet even from her prone position on the ground, Aurelia stubbornly snags out to grab her opponent by the arm, to stop them from hitting her again.
"You.. your hair's on fire," it's supposed to be a taunt, but there's so much bewilderment in Aurelia's accusation that her words hardly keep hold of any animosity.
There's a permanent frown on her face at this point, a convolution of emotions.
But she's fighting, and the line drawn between real fight and practice fight is suddenly blurred. She lands the hit against her assailant (who's both far away and very close) with a vigor that might scream that she's trying to inflict a serious injury. They fall, or duck, or both. It's hard to tell from this ever-changing, warped angle.
Ever-changing indeed, as Aurelia is suddenly dropped from her upright position. The staff becomes an extended arm, drawing out towards her until it hooks in against the back of her knees. Aurelia's legs give out and her hands reach out to grab hold of... balance, but they fail miserably. Yet even from her prone position on the ground, Aurelia stubbornly snags out to grab her opponent by the arm, to stop them from hitting her again.
"You.. your hair's on fire," it's supposed to be a taunt, but there's so much bewilderment in Aurelia's accusation that her words hardly keep hold of any animosity.
There's a permanent frown on her face at this point, a convolution of emotions.
and I've been thinking that when we thought
the world would break us, that we weren't wrong
the world would break us, that we weren't wrong
