This blog needs some sprucing up, and I'll get to that soon enough. For now, I want to announce that I'll be adding some R/sident Ev/l muses eventually. So that should be fun!
* To my mutuals and followers on all my RP blogs, I'm sorry. I'm gonna keep things casual until I have thr energy to update all my blogs, pages, and such. I'll probably limit which blogs I use and stick to RPing with mutuals.
* My OC canon has changed a bit so I need to change details.
* I want to rebrand and maybe make my main here my multi? Or at least rework my multi and move some muses there!
* Lastly, I have to redo all my tags. The reasons why are hard to explain sbsbshs
* Thank you all for your patience. I'll try to slowly move back to being more active. RP is what I love, and as I start to cope better with my mental health, I hope to provide fun for myself and for all of my wonderful mutuals!
Wintergrove Academy, a school for the richest families around. The hallways were long and spacious, windows twice as tall as they were wide, a balroom, multiple gymnasiums, a well-kept pool, and far more. It was, by all means, the height of luxury. Any wealthy family in the surrounding towns who wished to pass their status down to their children would send them to Wintergrove. The Richmans were no exception. In fact, they set the standard themselves.
In the town itself, they were the wealthiest. Their business and politics had shaped the town for generations, destroying opponents by any means necessary. To be blunt, they were rotten people, who's influence spread to the school which they funded. Without the Richmans, the academy was nothing. That was no secret.
Notorious as they were—their evil out in the open for all to see—many of the townsfolk still adored them. Some shred of a positive reputation was key for the Richmans. Everything they ever did—even adopting Sydney at age two—was to uphold this.
Their children were merely pawns to uphold the family's appearance, a burden which doubled for Sydney. Her life was nothing but a game, hard work, strain, and studying all meant to win the approval of her family. She was a brilliant young girl, heavily involved in the arts at school, with straight As and unwavering resolve.
Stuck-up as she appeared, underneath her fancy clothes and expensive schooling was a terrified girl, desperate to please the people around her.
But she was never enough, and if anyone made that clear, it was her elder sister, Amber Richman.
While her family had influence on the school itself, Amber was a queen amongst her peers, ruling over them with an iron fist. She was far from the only bully at school, but her rein was nothing to underestimate. Her clique alone had its own, smaller groups, of course. School social life wasn't as one-dimensional as a film may imply. Still, none came close to the terror that was Amber and her two closest friends.
Fear struck all who saw them, and for Sydney, this truth rung louder.
That day, like many before, the trio stopped Sydney in the hallway. Amber mixed a sweet tone with her bitter words, backhanded compliments and passive aggressive striking Sydney where it hurt. Still, as her friends (Bianca and Cassidy) left the sisters alone,, Amber insisted she was simply trying to help, that her insistant mockery was constructive and loving.
❝ Well, if you shall pardon me, dear sister, I must make my way to the chorus room... ❞
❝ D'aaaw, is someone hoping to get a solo this year? ❞ to anyone listening in, she seemed genuine enough, a certain sweetness to her voice with just barely masked the bitter aftertaste. Regardless of her tone, Amber was sure to shut her sister up a second before she spoke in response, ❝ If didn't know you'll fail, I might think that's, like, admirable or something. Instead I'm cringing. You're just going to embarrass yourself, Sydney. ❞
She circled around the other girl, looking her over with a disapproving gaze.
❝ Your hair ribbons—which are childish, by the way—aren't tied correctly, one of your socks is falling down, your blouse looks just simply horrid... at least let me help you. One of us has to stop our family from looking bloody stupid. ❞
Seeing Sydney flinch, she dropped the sour look, stepping closer to help adjust her attire.
❝ We have a reputation to uphold. Our family has done so much for you, making effort is the least you could do. Thank god you have me around to actually be patient with you. Eugh... ❞
Admittedly, Kireina thought it was the end of the line for her that day. She never planned on coming back or becoming a goddess. The reason why she gave him her choker was for sentimental value.
Killian didn’t need to know that though.
She shook her head a bit and tried to quickly answer his last question, mostly because she didn’t want him to question whether she truly knew or didn’t. It would’ve been embarrassing.
“Anyways, yeah…I’m here to stay, and I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon. On another note,” she pointed at his injured arm and had a more worried look, “we should probably head back and get that taken care of, along with the rest of the injuries you might have.”
❝ Yeah, it's... getting hard to stay upright, ❞ he noted with a dry laugh, shaking his head, ❝ I'd rather not look at it myself, I'd rather not see how bad it is. ❞
He walked a bit closer, head rested on her shoulder. His eyes felt heavier with each moment, but with Kireina there, he knew he'd be alright. She'd get him to safety, away from the snow and somewhere warm.
...He felt warm already, being beside her (though, maybe that was hypothermia. He wouldn't know, but he hoped not).
❝ I can walk with some help, I think, ❞ he added, ❝ think we can talk? To help me stay awake? ❞
Kireina muttered a quiet “thank you” as she took her choker back. Thankfully, it was still in tact after Killian’s confrontation with Takeshi.
On top of the gem was a small, gold plate. At first glance, it almost looked like it was just apart of the design, but in actuality, was a button of sorts. She pushed down on it, causing the gem to crack open like a door.
She opened it up and revealed a small, pearly white ball stored inside of it, which had a soft golden glow.
“See this?” Kireina held it a bit closer to Killian, “this is my star ball. All kitsunes have them. Many of us use them to store our souls in, so they’re one of our prized possessions. As a result, we’re required to aid the person who holds it.”
She closed the choker and placed it back on herself, “that person so happened to be you, angel.”
❝ So, you knew all along...? ❞ he asked, clutching his broken arm with his hand. Black liquid was still escaping the wound, after all, and he didn't want to bleed out when they'd finally reunited.
❝ That you might be okay... is that why you gave this to me? ❞ she was a genius, if so, making that plan so quickly. Fate was on their side that day, getting him to her just in time to receive the choker.... not that he really believed in fate.
“Well…” Kireina scratched the back of her neck, “I wouldn’t say I ‘cheated death’ per se.”
It’s true. She did die. However, it wasn’t for a very long time. The process was a bit complicated and they’d be there all day if she tried to explain her.
It was better to cut to the chase.
“I was actually given a second chance by some gods uh…y-yeah, long long story, I’m a goddess now. So, I’ve got that going for me,” she laughed nervously.
“That probably beckons the question of how I’m here at such a convenient time, so I’ll gladly answer that.”
Kireina raised a brow, “you uh…wouldn’t happen to have my choker on hand, do you?”
Killian blinked, then again, wiping tears away with his hand. Was he bearing her right? He must have been mishearing her, and yet...
With all the otherworldly light and the ability to return from death, he had to face the facts; things were weird. It was best to just accept that and keep going.
❝ Oh, you were always a goddess to me, ❞ he laughed, albeit weakly. He would have cracked another dumb joke, too, if it hadn't been for her question.
Choker... ah! How could he forget? He'd been wearing it ever since that day.
He reached behind his neck, struggling a bit to unclasp the necklace. One arm or not, though, he managed to get it off, leaving the choker in her hand just like she'd done before she passed.
❝ I told you, I'm hardly an angel... ❞ and knowing what powers he had, that statement only held more true.
Killian looked up at Kireina with a weak smile, tears streaming down his face. He held her hand tightly, looking over her in complete awe. She looked beautiful. Was he biased? Perhaps, but that didn't erase the truth. She was stunning, beyond a shadow of a doubt, and here she was in front of him... alive.
Why she'd shown Takeshi mercy, he knew not, but that was her choice to make. Besides, he couldn't care, not then, not when he finally had her back.
He'd missed her so much....
❝ I should have known you'd come back, ❞ he mused with a small chuckle, letting go of her hand. He placed his hand on her cheek, then continued, ❝ You're strong, love, strong beyond words. If anyone can cheat death, it's you.❞
...Well. Where to even start? Everything went by in a blur, Killian's emotions shifting by the second. Anger, confusion, sorrow... bittersweet joy. The moment he'd known it was her, the crying had started all over again, a smile creeping onto his face.
The man struggled to stand up. With only one good arm to help him, that was only natural. He couldn't get up fast enough, blood pumping as he struggled. The moment he stood, he was already headed toward her, stumbling along the way.
With his good arm, he reached to his neck, hand gently grasping the gem of the choker she'd left him with. He brushed his finger against it to ground himself, to help remember that this was real, that she was okay. Then, hand shaking, he let go, reaching out for her hand as he finally reached her. Blinded by the light she'd become, it took a moment to even find her hand.
The brightness hurt his eyes but he pushed through it. At last, her hand was back in his, and for once he felt that life was on his side.
Or, rather, hers (quite literally for that matter).
Killian had no time to process what had happened (and that was becoming a pattern, huh?). Before he knew it, he was blinded by the brightest of lights, a splitting headache coming along with it.
He didn't know what dragged him and Takeshi forward. He had no means of seeing it, but he took the chance he had in a split second. Gripping the hand on his collar, he managed to pry it off, rolling away to his left despite the excruciating pain in his broken arm.
He tried to open his eyes, but quickly regretted it, shutting them tightly on instinct alone. He hated it, being so unaware of his circumstances. For all he knew, this thing was out to kill the both of them.
Overcome by adrenaline from everything thus far, Killian was caught entirely off guard by Takeshi's grasp. In fact, it was as though he'd blacked out for a moment, and the next thing he knew, he was being forced to the cliff's edge as the other shouted at him.
How could someone spew so much b u l l s h i t ?
Through pitch black tears and the same liquid oozing from his mouth, Killian managed a laugh, and then another, trying to pry Takeshi away with his good arm. In his weakened state, though, it was near impossible to do anything.
All he had were his words, which he pushed out with a bitter tone.
❝ Yeah, sure, I'm an idiot and I know it, but here's the thing, mate, I think you're leaving some shit out, ❞ he chuckled, wincing at the pain in his arm, ❝ did she mean to kill em? I mean, you're allowed to be pissed either way, but I doubt someone would banish ya for just being mad. Were ya mad, or attacking her? Because based on the fact that you murdered her, im leaning toward option two. ❞
❝ Do us all a favor and quit acting like ya got the moral high ground We all got shite going on. ❞ he snapped, ❝ Ya think I don't get what it's like to be left behind? To have everyone around me leagues above me all the time for just existing, even when I'm trying my bloody hardest? News flash, I do, and I didn't kill no one for it. So put away that victim card, ya arse. ❞
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