Threads of verdant in the perfect embroidery that entrails the meadow that fills the vision. They compose the very roots of the world, but no stars shine in that place. The wild flow of water, the sounds of a cascade. For her that place became home … oh, yes, one year ago. A favored guest in her company, the cup of hot tea on the table being the first thing one could see. It’s a limbo, a place that acts like a bridge between life and death … and the femme presented in the chair is the guardian between both. Tied to the tree of life, shackles of unheard chains of eternity; sometimes fate was cruel, a vestige of the echo of the goddess of life like any aria ended their life at that path, one being chosen for the role. That place was laid beyond the comprehension of many people and she anticipated many of the hesitation of someone unknown to that place. ❛❛ I see many crossing but It’s been a while since I had a visit … Here, I pour you some tea. Hope you like osmanthus. ❜❜
The gentle wind cradles the sound of the leaves of the trees that once touched the ground dissipates into thin air, a gentle respite as she enjoyed the liquid on the cup that warmed larger fingers. ❛❛ I would say, in normal circumstances, that I’m curious as to why you ended up here … But I won’t annoy you with such unnecessary details. You will be here for a while, they’ll wake you up soon enough. ❜❜ Many things were left in the dark to suture wounds. Ah, it’s almost painful how some people decide to remember those who have departed. The smile drawn on her visage, now pale, becomes a pout like a little girl. ❛❛ I guess her methods of training haven’t changed at all. I’m so sorry you have to go through that. ❜❜ But who is the woman to say, when she had to leave so soon ?
Layla slowly opened her eyes, green hues now widening as they they saw just where she had ended up; where was she? She didn’t recognize this place in the least...was she dead? She must be. After all, last she recalled was...something, someone in front of her, an excruciating pain, someone screaming her name...
Yes, there is no way in the least she was still alive, she figured to herself. And she lacked many feelings about the subject. She was dead. Simple as that. And at this point, she rather lacked much care for the fact she was now deceased...
While she no longer desired it as a younger version of herself did long ago, she...also did not particular y wish to avoid it. For better or worse.
Hm, so in this world, there was an afterlife...she was surprised she was allowed within it, to experience death the same as natives of this world given her otherworlder status, but given how much this world bent her to abide by it’s rules, she supposed she should not be too surprised.
Her expressions shifts to perplexed upon the sight of the woman before her, blinking a few times in confusion- and then furrowing her brows, taking on her usual more cold demeanor towards strangers she usually had.
She says simply, looking down at the cup in front of her before hesitantly picking it up and sipping it. Osmanthus tea isn’t a favorite of hers, but she’s had worse tea. This was decent, she supposed.
“...I’ll...wake up soon? Aren’t I dead? Is this not some gateway to the afterlife or whatever?”
She asked, raising an eyebrow at the woman before her. How was she not dead? From what she could recall of her blurred and messy memories, she certainly took a fatal blow...did she not? Was her memory perhaps failing her? Ugh, she hated not knowing these things. It was so irritating. Her own mind, failing to provide her the information she desired. How annoying.
“Her methods? Are your referring to Crystal? How do you know her? Who are you anyway? Some guardian or whatever of who knows what?”
