Amalia
the archangel
They arrive, and Amalia is both relieved and terrified as her friends and... peers? Compatriots? file into the room. Seren is first, the young daughter of Safrin a beacon of starlight (quite literally), causing Amalia to catch her breath with surprise at just how much she resembles her mother. She greets the girl warmly, smiling as she takes a seat, then turns to Ronin and a very grumpy Remi, not particularly surprised though also not sure what has gotten the Lullaby upset today. Nothing food won't mend, she hopes, casually sliding a plate of cookies in front of her friend just in case.
Then there's Mildew, who Amalia has only met once before, and Phoebe, who she hasn't seen in what feels like months. And that is it: the entirety of the chosen (except Delphia) gathered in one place, representing the pantheon of Old Gods in an array that is both exhilarating and overwhelming. Amalia is the last to take her seat, after gathering a small plate of food she won't eat. And even though the table is round she feels as though she's at the head of it: a daunting prospect that dries her mouth, even as she clears her throat, trying to find a way to break the awkward silence.
"So, ah... thanks for coming." Her voice sounds squeaky in her ears, and she clears her throat again. "I thought it was important we all have the opportunity to talk. Especially with... well, y'know. War." It's a heavy word, and it falls like lead from her lips, tasting just as bad. None of them really want a war.
But of course, it isn't for them to decide.
Dark eyes flicker between each of the faces gathered here: her allies, her family, the only other ones who understand what it is to carry the weight she holds. It makes her feel a little lighter, knowing she isn't alone. "This has been coming for a long time, and I know- gods, I wish it wasn't." A weak laugh leaves her, dark and tired; she shakes her golden head. "But with everything happening, I think it's important that we have... well, that we're a team. Outside the Order, outside everything else - because at the end of the day we're the closest to the Gods. And it's our responsibility to protect Their world."
She's hitting her stride, her voice stronger, the waver almost gone. "There's a lot to be done. These relics, wherever and wherever they are - they have to be found before they fall into the Voice's hands. She already has a piece of the Core - the metal we pulled from Tanau, which unleashed the infection, and which I believe played a role in allowing her to bring souls back from Mort's realm. With tools of the Old God's champions who knows how strong she'll be come. I've been researching them, but there's precious little information. If anyone does have more knowledge, please, let's share it. We're equals in this. And we need to work together if we're going to stay ahead.
"Obviously we will all have different roles in the seasons to come, but that doesn't mean we can't work together. We're a family at the end of the day- and I want us to be one. I... I hope you all feel the same."
By the time she stops speaking her eyes are bright with righteousness and her hair is flush with golden flowers. Amalia has taken on more of an Angelic appearance in this moment than in any before, and she can only believe that her brethren, her allies, her family, feel the same.
SORRY FOR THE WAIT. No posting order.
Then there's Mildew, who Amalia has only met once before, and Phoebe, who she hasn't seen in what feels like months. And that is it: the entirety of the chosen (
"So, ah... thanks for coming." Her voice sounds squeaky in her ears, and she clears her throat again. "I thought it was important we all have the opportunity to talk. Especially with... well, y'know. War." It's a heavy word, and it falls like lead from her lips, tasting just as bad. None of them really want a war.
But of course, it isn't for them to decide.
Dark eyes flicker between each of the faces gathered here: her allies, her family, the only other ones who understand what it is to carry the weight she holds. It makes her feel a little lighter, knowing she isn't alone. "This has been coming for a long time, and I know- gods, I wish it wasn't." A weak laugh leaves her, dark and tired; she shakes her golden head. "But with everything happening, I think it's important that we have... well, that we're a team. Outside the Order, outside everything else - because at the end of the day we're the closest to the Gods. And it's our responsibility to protect Their world."
She's hitting her stride, her voice stronger, the waver almost gone. "There's a lot to be done. These relics, wherever and wherever they are - they have to be found before they fall into the Voice's hands. She already has a piece of the Core - the metal we pulled from Tanau, which unleashed the infection, and which I believe played a role in allowing her to bring souls back from Mort's realm. With tools of the Old God's champions who knows how strong she'll be come. I've been researching them, but there's precious little information. If anyone does have more knowledge, please, let's share it. We're equals in this. And we need to work together if we're going to stay ahead.
"Obviously we will all have different roles in the seasons to come, but that doesn't mean we can't work together. We're a family at the end of the day- and I want us to be one. I... I hope you all feel the same."
By the time she stops speaking her eyes are bright with righteousness and her hair is flush with golden flowers. Amalia has taken on more of an Angelic appearance in this moment than in any before, and she can only believe that her brethren, her allies, her family, feel the same.
SORRY FOR THE WAIT. No posting order.
she's just like the weather
can't hold her together
can't hold her together
