Amalia
the archangel
There is a moment where Amalia has no idea what to do with the offered arm. A trick, she wonders, or something else? A glance at his face shows a perfect mask of friendliness, and so the girl decides to roll with it, awkwardly settling her arm within his. It's not something she's used to, and it takes a few steps for her to fall into rhythm, but when she does it feels bizarrely natural. Arm in arm they push their way into Torchline proper, the Angel somewhat mystified by this whole turn of events.
"Hmm? Oh, right." Distracted as ever by the liveliness of the city (is that a juggler?), it takes a second for Amalia to process the Eye's follow-up question. Straightening a little, she turns towards Cian. "I would like to join the Order. Properly." The shadow of a building eclipses the sun, letting the halo above the Angel's head flicker brightly as they walk. "I thought I might work with Finn, doing research on what's to come. Or Gideon, reaching out to the people who live beyond Stormbreak."
"Hmm? Oh, right." Distracted as ever by the liveliness of the city (is that a juggler?), it takes a second for Amalia to process the Eye's follow-up question. Straightening a little, she turns towards Cian. "I would like to join the Order. Properly." The shadow of a building eclipses the sun, letting the halo above the Angel's head flicker brightly as they walk. "I thought I might work with Finn, doing research on what's to come. Or Gideon, reaching out to the people who live beyond Stormbreak."
we drink the poison our mind pours for us
and wonder why we feel so sick
and wonder why we feel so sick
