[split] [se] I'm headed straight for the floor
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
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#15
we're all stories unfinished and we die to find some fitting words to write
No, it isn’t as if Safrin had saved his life or brought him back from the dead. She gave him the power to shapeshift. To be an animal.

Wessex has to hand it to the herald, she knows an easy target when she sees it. Scoffing again, the Wraith can only add her continued disgust to Hotaru’s and hope it will begin to articulate the depths of her disillusionment with Sunjata.

“Well, I know that feeling, too. Might be more apt to say no one’s choice, but that feels very self-pitying.” And now she really can offer nothing back but a mirrored, slightly bitter smile, not meant to accuse the Outlander of anything, but more of something meant to reassure. Hotaru would survive it. If Wessex could, she can. And the demigod would bet her demigodhood that in time Hotaru would find someone else, because that is the way of beautiful, delightful women.

“The only way to avoid it is to choose yourself first - and even that has its downfalls.”

Something moves on the horizon - no, somethings, too distant to get a good look at, but slightly worrisome all the same. Frowning slightly, Wessex puts her free hand over her brow and squints. No luck, not at this distance. “I don’t suppose he could be convinced to leave Sunjata for good?” An absent-minded question, perhaps not well as well considered as others, but for good reason.
WESSEX
Hotaru Kaito
the Valkyrie
Masseuse / Headmistress

Age: 33 | Height: 5'2 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
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#16
You won't go lonely into this fight, if you just hold me we will survive
Her disgust is evenly shared, a sardonic quirk of her lips assuring the woman that the lightning girl is right on board and more than aware of the emotions the queen is projecting. It is a liberating communion of disappointment, a reminder that her side is not completely unheard. That as much as she vies for power, at least she was not so weak as to give unflinching loyalty to a goddess that had done little to earn it. And certainly she would never elevate it over the free will and desires of loved ones, not if it could be avoided.

Hotaru projects a hoarse bark of a laugh, the bitterness as equally shared. “I feel we’ve earned a little self-pity, even if we only indulge in it now.” Her hand squeezes around Wessex’s. The woman has suffered so much as well, and Hotaru’s name certainly doesn’t too the charts, but she feels responsible in some minuscule way all the same. Wishes that Wessex could escape the burdens of her position and find someone who could appreciate her in all her glory, unfettered and free. Just as she wishes the same for Deimos in the wake of Amalia’s cruelty. But she cannot bring about these things for either of them and that is the real burden to bear.

Hotaru is distracted from replying by Wessex lifting her hand to squint at the horizon, turning and following her gaze to the vague movement on the horizon. Empty hand twitching towards the dagger she had once carried on her belt, now empty after stabbing it into Sunjata’s thigh and abandoning it. Her own eyes narrow and lips pull into a frown. She is just as distracted, taking the question at face value and far from offended. Deimos had asked the exact same thing of her. It’s almost amusing, the similarities between their thoughts for all they dislike each other. “I don’t believe so. Certainly not for me, and if being denied his agency and forced into fatherhood is not enough to shake their bond, well...” she comes back to herself enough to sigh, gaze still distant if for different reasons now. “I wouldn’t hold out for it. Even with the pull of the Voice on your side.”
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
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#17
we're all stories unfinished and we die to find some fitting words to write
Emotional indulgence (and rebellion and revenge) has been on the Wraith’s mind lately, on her tongue when visiting the Voice, and in her heart after fighting with Edy. But to hear someone actually give her permission to do so is a boon she didn’t know she needed.

It means she only half-listens to Hotaru’s professional assessment of her former husbands’ relationship, getting the gist of it (Sunjata will fuck Nate and the Asceeded over and Nate will let him do it because that’s what the thinks love is) without really wanting to dive any deeper. If it weren’t Nate, she wouldn’t care. But it is, and so she has to.

Taking a deep, needless breath, she simple exhales a grumbly sigh as a response. What more is there to say?

“Do you see that?” she asks quietly. Having never been anywhere this hot before, Wessex knows what a desert is but not the peculiarities of it. Is it a mirage? A dust storm? A violent and rare rain cloud? It’s too far, even for her eagle-eyes. But the distraction allows her to simply say what’s on her mind rather than ruminate on it. It allows a

“You would tell me the truth, wouldn’t you, Ru? Even if it would hurt?”
WESSEX
Hotaru Kaito
the Valkyrie
Masseuse / Headmistress

Age: 33 | Height: 5'2 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
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#18
You won't go lonely into this fight, if you just hold me we will survive
Their shared contemplative silence has shifted to a more alert, general shifting of unease between them. Whatever is out there on the horizon, it has not escaped the notice of either woman; no surprise there considering their shared natures, but it means Hotaru is already expecting the question when it comes. "I do," she confirms quietly, frown playing on her lips. Hotaru is just as unfamiliar with desert topography; the snow can play the same tricks at times, but usually only under the light of the sun, which is already becoming a forgotten thing at this hour. "Think we need to teleport instead?" Not that she underestimates the power of herself or Wessex, much less combined, but Caido loves to make things go south fast and neither of them knows where they are or what they might face out here.

The next question is a lot more unexpected, and Hotaru tilts her head to gaze upon Wessex's profile, lit by the darkening hues of sunset; beautiful and proud, honed upon this new threat before them. Trusting enough to let Wessex keep an eye on whatever lies ahead, Hotaru takes a moment to simply drink in the sight of the Wraith, rolling the question over in her mind to give it the due consideration it deserves. "Yes. I would regret hurting you, but if you asked me for my honesty, I would give it." A final reminder before the question itself descends; that Hotaru doesn't want to hurt Wessex, and her hope that such consideration and care would not be forgotten in the wake of potential wounded feelings.
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
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#19
we're all stories unfinished and we die to find some fitting words to write
Wrinkling her nose at the prospect of losing time with Ru, Wessex sighs. “Maybe. Let’s give it a bit.” Because there are still heavy weights on her shoulders and stormclouds in her head. And she, too, is in need of some kind of catharsis.

Which means that Ru’s answer is satisfactory. Even though she’s unsure of what she’s looking for, Wessex thinks she’s found an unbiased party to tell her the truth. Something inside her clenches, bracing before she can even get the words out - preparation has always been Wessex’s modus operandi and this is no exception. Where to begin is the only decision she has left to make.

“Am I a Monster the Voice has unleashed?” Clear, but quietly intimate, as she asks the Queen’s brows furrow in long-held worry. “LongNight was not my best - yes, most everyone survived, but I was careless with some, endlessly frustrated with others. I made some bad decisions but - am I a monster? Struck and stung by the claim, Wessex has both accepted and resisted it, fighting to say, no, this isn’t me, and wanting to throw up her hands and let herself be the nightmare others seem to want.

As she turns her gaze down to Hotaru, one thing is clear: Wessex has been made into so many things, jumped into so many different roles that she no longer knows who she is. At her very core. Hotaru probably doesn't know either, but at least the Outlander won't hold back in her fair assessment.
WESSEX
Hotaru Kaito
the Valkyrie
Masseuse / Headmistress

Age: 33 | Height: 5'2 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
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#20
You won't go lonely into this fight, if you just hold me we will survive
If there are stormclouds in her head, she is in good company. Hotaru’s hand never wavers from the Wraith’s, and despite the concern on the horizon their steps are measured in time. There is only support and the promise for honesty to be found here, and the lightning girl has never shied from storms.

What she is asked is unexpected. The words sound like a title given to the woman that Hotaru has never heard, or perhaps venom repeated from another’s lips. There’s little time for rumination on the vitriol of the honorific itself as Wessex expounds on the question, the cracks in her facade breaking open before Hotaru’s eyes. They feel echoed on Hotaru’s heart which aches for the uncharacteristic doubt her friend displays. When Wessex’s gaze turns down towards her, Hotaru pulls on their connected hands to make the demigod pause, and lifts her free hand to reach for Wessex’s face without hesitation. Seeking to cup the cool skin her palm finds, and gently force the woman to look into her eyes. The words come easier than any ever have, as sure of her response as she is of the rhythm of her own heart.

“Becoming The Voice’s demigod did not change who you are intrinsically Wessex. You are not just a creation or a cog in a god’s machine. You are simply you, as you were long before you Ascended, and as you always will be. You could not be the monster she unleashed, because you were never leashed in the first place.” Wessex had not been planned, had been like any other who sought Ascension. She’d simply done more than anyone else, and as such had turned into a figurehead - a position she’d never asked for. Hotaru’s thumb strokes against the woman’s nerveless cheek, even if the Wraith cannot feel it. “Monsters do not fight for what they think is right. They don’t protect those they love, or tolerate those they dislike for the greater good.” As she had done with Amalia, with Deimos, with a variety of souls in various death defying journeys. “Monsters are not sacrificial, or kind, or patient. Your actions define you, and being forced to make hard choices - and sometimes making the wrong ones - do not a monster make.”

The hand still tangled with Wessex’s squeezes hard to ensure it is felt, her multicolored gaze fierce. “You are good Wessex. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.” Pulling her hand away, Hotaru’s smile turns slightly sad, and she forces down the desire to tell her that being a monster isn’t a bad thing sometimes. That she too has looked in the mirror sometimes and seen something dark reflected back. Her hands are coated in far more blood than Wessex’s - but perhaps that makes her the perfect judge for this question.
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
Played by: Astor Offline
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Posts: 3,156 | Total: 4,350
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#21
we're all stories unfinished and we die to find some fitting words to write
The accusation flung at her - becoming the very thing she sought to destroy - has become a parasitic worry, something that wormed its way in through her ears, crawling into a particularly tight cranny in her brain and waiting, waiting, waiting. A pulse there are the toxin surges and it grows, a flutter here as it morphs, unseen, a phantom to others but fully alive in the constructed monstrosities of LongNight.

Something loathed.

Something to be eliminated.

Something that destroys - more than a weapon, somehow. More than a General and a Queen. A warning to babies and naughty children.

Is it possible to pack all that into a single gaze? Probably not. The inklings of despair at her eventual fate darken the corners of her eyes, but as she looks at Ru there is also the telltale sign of something stronger - something that wants to emerge and shake itself free of the worry.

Pressing her cheek onto one Ru’s palms, she listens and denies and agrees in micromovements. And when her friend tells her that she is good, Wessex has to laugh, because it seems like such a jump to go from ‘not a Monster’ to good. “If you knew me before, you might not say that. I was harder before you all came. An outcast, a thief, and a killer. I’m not good, but I am a survivor.” Sighing, Wessex looks down as Ru’s hand falls away. “You’re right though, I’m not a Monster with a capital M. Sometimes I think it might be easier for everyone if I were.”
WESSEX
Hotaru Kaito
the Valkyrie
Masseuse / Headmistress

Age: 33 | Height: 5'2 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
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#22
You won't go lonely into this fight, if you just hold me we will survive
Her guileless face for once does not conceal the tentative hope within, the struggle to accept what Ru is saying while still entrenched in the mire of her own doubt. But Hotaru doesn’t intend to let go. No matter how long it takes she will help pull Wessex free of that dark, clinging fear. Her thumb dances over the Wraith’s cheek once more, a small bit of static electricity lining the motion in the way she had learned to do with Nate to mimic sensation in his sensors.

“Goodness is not in our actions either, or you would consider me a far worse woman than yourself.” Shadows dance in Hotaru’s own gaze at that. If Wessex considers thievery and killing to survive to be the traits of a bad person, what then would she make of Hotaru if she knew the Valkyrie’s past? “They call you a monster because you are a target with a name and a face, something tangible to direct their aimless hurt at. You’re a convenient vessel for their anger. Not a person. And as such their words have no weight.” It treks too close to her own old wounds, to days when her name was spat and hissed with similar vitriol, her mere presence inviting narrowed eyes and scornful comments. Hotaru does not envy Wessex the pain of having to grow accustomed to it. “You’re not here to make the lives of morons easy. Don’t give them the satisfaction of becoming what they see you as.”
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
Played by: Astor Offline
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#23
we're all stories unfinished and we die to find some fitting words to write
Hotaru speaks the truth; she knows it and Wessex knows it. That she’d done this, intentionally, to draw the ire of others away from her family is one thing and she can accept outsiders calling her whatever the fuck they want. To hear it from Edy was entirely different. Even though she knows the girl is childish and irresponsible. Even though she knows the Rapacious is volatile. Even knowing all that, it still cut as deep as Nephele’s chakrams.

Wessex smiles weakly.

Of course Ru doesn’t know who said that to Wessex, and some dark voice in the back of the demigod’s mind is certain that when the time comes, if the Outlander chooses another side that their words will not be the same. But that is -

No -

She tries to capture Ru’s hand after it zaps her a bit, pressing the back of her warm, flesh-and-blood hand to her cool lips and then squeezing it. “I’m okay with being the primary Ascended target. It’s when it comes from the very people I’m supposed to protect that it’s harder to… shrug off.” Because they were supposed to benefit from her so-called Monstrosity, not run from it. Not fear it.

Her gaze turns again towards the movement on the horizon, which is closer, but not alarmingly so. They still have a bit of time before Wessex has decided she’ll whisk them away. “Kiada has told me a bit about her past with a false god. What kind of world was it, that you think you’re far worse than me?” There, at the end, is a flash of the teasing Wessex that Hotaru knows. A glimpse of self-deprecation and in it, resilience.
WESSEX
Hotaru Kaito
the Valkyrie
Masseuse / Headmistress

Age: 33 | Height: 5'2 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
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#24
You won't go lonely into this fight, if you just hold me we will survive
If she hadn’t known before, she knows now. Immediately better understands the hurt behind the name, the sting of a blade thrust back into your chest when you’d offered it handle first for them to use in their own defense. There is no pity in her gaze as Wessex presses a cool kiss to the fine bones of her hand, only a deep sympathy and understanding. “The closer we hold people, the more power we give them to hurt us. Is there any chance it was said in the heat of the moment?” Far from making excuses for the unnamed Ascended, it is instead a doorway for Wessex to try and be free of the weight she is carrying.

It shouldn’t surprise her that Kiada has shared stories of their lives in Helovia with Wessex, but her mind recoils from it all the same. A life she has never shared with those who had not already been present to witness it. A secret kept tightly locked and vaulted far away from the comparatively innocent eyes of those in Caido. She had told Sunjata, once. And he had seemingly taken every vulnerable piece of information and crafted it intentionally to shatter her at every straining seam. It’s a terror worse than she has ever known to be asked in such a straightforward way, and it’s clear in the widening of her eyes, the temporary flash of fear and vulnerability that is swiftly hidden in the turn of her face to the horizon, the veil of blonde hair against her temple. At least there’s a way to answer without revealing those weaknesses. A different side of the story to tell. “One where I stole for the thrill of it. For the power it gave me, long before I ever used it to bolster my soldiers. Where I manipulated the fools, the innocent, the helpless; earned their trust and then burned their kingdoms down after they let me through the gates.” Two such occasions, really. “Where I killed those who challenged me for my crown. Killed more on behalf of allies in wars I had no further stake in. Where I loved a Goddess enough to follow her word, concealing evidence of a killer she puppeted so he may continue his spree. A spree that would include my parents.”

Their bodies would haunt her forever, and still she had not hesitated to destroy the evidence left behind. Still she would believe in the words of her Goddess, saying it was necessary. A greater good that she would refuse to explain. “And still I would defend her. Love her. Worship her. Until I saw her ripped apart by another God - one who murdered my children and leagues of citizens, and whose portals would keep me from their remains.” Her voice goes dead and cold at the end, each step seemingly robotic. Is it any surprise then that she does not pursue the lady of the night here? That The Voice terrifies her? With all she has lost, trust is something she can never summon again.
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
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#25
we're all stories unfinished and we die to find some fitting words to write
Pursing her lips, Wessex considers the question - in the heat of the moment? Her head tilts from one shoulder to the other, remembering some bits very clearly while others are, even now, a bit murky. “There are things said in the heat of a fight - and then there is saying that I am what the people remember and fear. I am the Monster the Voice unleashed. It was meant to bleed to me dry. But I’m still pretty sure she meant it.” Shrugging, Wessex sighs unnecessarily and both figuratively and physically tries to wipe from the forefront of her mind with a wave of her hand.

Listening as they walk, both ears on Hotaru and both eyes on the horizon, the Wraith remains quiet in the rise and fall of her voice, the warmth and deathly cold of it. And you know what? She does not find the fault the Outlander thinks she will find.

“If you think I wouldn’t burn someplace down if it would save us, that I don’t parade my strength for the thrill of it sometimes, or I haven’t killed people who tried to take what was mine -” scoffing loudly, Wessex shakes her head. “You, my Outlandish friend, are sadly mistaken.” Her voice drops and she considers their similarities and their differences. “We’re quite alike. But you’ve had worlds and multiple lives to live - I had the bubble of the Grounds.  You’ve seen and done - what? - three times as much as me?” Did it matter, were they truly counting?

A sly smile sneaks up on her. “Maybe I’ll catch up. By the time all this bullshit is said and done.”

Maybe she'll think Wessex a monster then.
WESSEX
Hotaru Kaito
the Valkyrie
Masseuse / Headmistress

Age: 33 | Height: 5'2 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 3 - Strg: 38 - Dext: 38 - Endr: 54 - Luck: 40 - Int:
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#26
You won't go lonely into this fight, if you just hold me we will survive
Disappointment in this other woman cloys in her throat like smoke, and she squeezes Wessex's hand anew at the embittered tone. "Then she is all the more wrong for it. And there is nothing wrong with being monstrous, not in these times. If all she does is benefit from it, then she is foolish to condemn it anyway." They were on the same side after all, both Ascended, both disciples of The Voice. Who then would shy away, frightened and hateful, of the actions of their demigod who fought on their behalf?

The Wraith's assurances are everything she needs to hear in that moment, and she maneuvers closer to place her head on the woman's arm, cheek brushing cloth just enough to give that moment of connection without being jostled by the pace of their feet. "If you do, I'll be here. And we can be a little fucked up together." A quiet vow in the dying light, a friendship that she prays will make it through what is to come. An acceptance of each other and the dark things they've both done and will be forced to do before this is all through. If it is ever truly through at all.
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
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#27
we're all stories unfinished and we die to find some fitting words to write
Is this the true meaning of love? Seeing dark truths, hard truths, fears, and vulnerabilities, all naked and pale and ghostly in front of them; phantoms of the future and echoes of the past and still saying, I accept you for you. Wessex is drawn into silence by Hotaru’s final words, no more words of protestation or explanation necessary. What else is left to say?

There is companionship in the lingering silence between the two women, each mind perhaps drifting to their respective recent troubles until the thing on the horizon stirs again, this time morea active and larger than before. Wessex frowns, tight-lipped and storm-covered again as she glances down at Ru, loathe to disturb this quiet comfort, but knowing it might be safer if she did.

“I don’t want to call this to an end but without knowing what that is -” the conclusion is easy to guess as she drifts off and sighs, reaching again for her hand. “But best to play it safe. Come on, let’s go to grab a drink at my place.”

No VlamVloed, no Torchline, just a safe space for them.

{fin <3}
WESSEX


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