[SE] Show me my silver lining
for Amalia
Maea Valair
Hollowed Grounds Ambassador / Loreseeker

Age: 29 | Height: 156 cm / 5'1 ft | Race: Ancient | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 22 - Dext: 22 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 20 - Int:
Played by: Chan Online
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Posts: 3,025 | Total: 5,767
MP: 1897
#1
MaeA
Happily talking to Ludo about all the different games the festival had to offer, Maea strolled about the festival grounds with not a care in the world. All her problems had been exiled for the day, a matter for another day. This one was set aside for music and laughter, dancing and merrymaking, and she'd had this craving for sweets for days now that could not be ignored any longer.

She made a beeline for the stall she knew would have just the thing, one she had visited every year since she was allowed to attend and often had to be pulled away from with fingers sticky and mouth powdered white from flour or sugar - or both. Bursting with flowers and bread, sweets and smiles, the Chandrakant's always had a loyal customer in the Valair household, in more ways than one.

But... when the stall came into view this year, it was a ghost of what it should have been. It was the same place, the same painted sign, the same bread and treats... It was just less than it used to be. Less opulent, less crowded, less sunny and cheerful. And the girl behind the counter was a raincloud gone astray, looking on the verge of tears under the weight of the forced smiles and whispered comments of other patrons who also noticed the change.

"Harpies" Maea muttered, as she followed a pair of not so discreet ladies with disapproving eyes. Couldn't they at least get out of earshot before dropping their comments? Her jaw set with something akin to determination, and as the albino girl approached the stand her smile was bright and cheerful, seemingly unconcerned by Amalia's lack of energy or the diminished glory of her wares.

"Hi there, Amalia! I've come for the usual, if you have any pastries left? I'm really glad to see you here, you've saved Fiat Lux for me this year too!"
you're so cold, but you feel alive.
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#2
AMALIA
you're staring at the sky
watching stars collide
Too young, too lonely, too anxious, too sad, Amalia stands behind her counter and works as others enjoy the fair. Though she has some amount of help - two older women, her grandmother's friends, in fairness likely better equipped to handle marketing than the girl - she cannot seem to free herself from the wooden shield, the tabletop a staunch defense against the flighty fun of the festival. It is less true moroseness than insecurity: her stall is beautiful, but not as beautiful; her bread is good, but not as good. Devas Bakery has not been represented ant Fiat Lux for years, and the knowledge of her inadequacies as a Chandrakant gnaw at the girl from the inside out.

But at least these insecurities distract her from other, greater problems.

So it is that Maea finds her: bent below the counter top to pull fresh loaves from her small traveling oven, her long gold hair escaping its plait as she rises, a comet of flour streaked across her cheek. Surprise crosses her expressive face at the sight of them, but Amalia quickly regains her composure and dons her customer service mask.

"Happy Fiat Lux, Maea... Ludo." Amalia had spotted the pair earlier, among the crowd: how could she not, with the mortal acting as such a beacon, clad in white with a god upon her back? Bowing slightly to the deity, she lets a small, genuine smile light her hollow face. "Of course- always, for you." Turning away, Amalia busies herself with searching for a tray of sticky buns, her heart beating quickly in her breast. Her last encounter with Ludo had been positive, beautiful, and the memory of it rises quickly to her mind, but it is tainted now by a sliver of shame. What would her grandmother say to see her here, sulking and stewing, a rain cloud on this sunniest of days?

And then there is Maea- Maea who was never quite her friend, but has been a part of her life since childhood, woven into the threads of her story with seamless, constant ease. And now, with this council nonsense and the Spire breached, Amalia cannot help but think of the older girl's part in it all. Seeing Maea enter the obelisk alongside Roana and the other Outlanders, betray and defy the people she grew up with, Rory, and Evie, and the gods...

A silent sigh escapes her lungs. "I'm trying," she whispers to her ghosts, before turning back to face the odd pair, the brittle smile back on her face. "Sticky rolls with cinnamon syrup." Wrapping two roles in paper, she offers them to Maea before turning another, genuine smile upon the porcelain-masked god. "And for you, Ludo?"


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