fonscorvus:
( @emberfists ) ♥ ( X )
The UNMISTAKABLE presence of a certain stouthearted adolescent with kunzite eyes capable of deprecating with a mere withering glance is befuddling. From a conscientious sibling to altruistic friends, the perilous world from whence the venturesome blonde came offered her MUCH. What is it about this inhospitable wasteland that could have enticed her?
Regardless, palpable bemusement aside, the abstruse elder finds herself daunted and even somewhat petrified by the inexorability of an encounter with the resilient youth. Left abashed and terribly contrite in the wake of their last, she finds herself rendered nonplussed at present. Though she’d rather flee ( and oh how she abhors that timorousness within herself ), she willfully refrains from doing so. Whilst ineluctable apprehension causes garnet eyes to avoid meeting her progeny’s lilac ones, a discernible frown tugs at unpredictable lips. Her hubris revolts at the uninhibited candor with which she acknowledges the lionheart, but she still speaks.
❝ I thought about what would happen if we ever crossed paths again. No matter how many times I did, I never managed to find the right words. Even now - even HERE in a place I never expected to see you, I can’t find them. I imagine it’s just another disappointment to you. ❞
No longer does Yang have the instinct to arm herself when she realizes who is standing in front of her. Ember Celica remains in its dormant state as she stares back at the woman she’d once longed to meet, once thought she wanted to meet more than anything. She’s grown since then; she’s learned. She knows that the woman before her is nothing that she had imagined she was as a lonely child missing two mothers.
`It’s not my fault that you abandoned me.` Part of her still wants to say it out loud, to declare it where Raven will hear her truth. But she knows better than to rely on her for affirmation by now.
”You’re right,” she says instead, simply. Her gaze is blank; she should have known Raven would come here, more desperate and pathetic than anyone. There’s no anger to muster up, only exactly the emotion her mother expected. And maybe something softer, something she doesn’t want to acknowledge. Because if she can’t be angry, she’ll be damned if she doesn’t at least stand her ground in this way. ”You are just another disappointment. I guess you just couldn’t run far enough away.”












