#( amara. )

[sternmadchen]

⋄ ⋄ ⋄ OPEN STARTER

' ¿Te estás escuchando? ¿Celosa yo? Pfft, ya quisieras. '

[polarisleigh]

The stained glass windows in the common area are reflecting colors across Amara’s notebook, turning her notes several shades of red, green, and orange. Her pen scratches across the yellowing paper, and Amara relishes in the sound. If Light were here, they’d love the colors, probably. Her heart sinks as she’s once again reminded of her fallen lover, but she doesn’t let it bother her. There’s another person sitting at the same table who happens to have the book that Amara needs to finish up her studying. “Excuse me,” she calls softly, her voice surprisingly hesitant for someone who killed without a second thought. “Could I borrow that when you’re done?”

[amaraxricci]

                                        AMARA’S CLOSET

                                                   chicago day of giving gala

[swordmaid]

ICHOR.

[superschitt]

[thxmackermxnn]

when. 19.3.2021 where. amara’s sold property; who. @afrowc

          Thomas doesn’t usually ask questions in his line of work. It didn’t matter if a client wanted a suspicious villa hidden in the forests or a rich bachelor hideout with rooms for sexual endeavors, as long as they paid the cash, Thomas’ lips were sealed closed. He stands in front of a property in the early afternoon with a suit and a coat on, squinted gaze looking at the house that much reminds him of his childhood home - filled with secrets, sold off to be forgotten and now bound to be destroyed. Venturing off to the landfill of memories, he vividly remembers the match he’d lit to set his own father’s ruins on fire and visualises the same deed done here, even if on more formal grounds.

                           Amara Rowe.  £ £ £ £ £ £. Signature. Stamp. 

          That’s what one of the documents show, an empty form for eviction and destruction sitting in another. Both their names sit on this property, himself as its designer, herself as its inheritor. As Thomas sees Amara approach amidst the bulldozers, wrecking balls and few construction workers, he grits his teeth at the sight of the Pestilence Power. While he knew her late husband better, Thomas got glimpses of the woman before him only on occasions such as balls and events organised in favor of the Truce, which now sits broken and echoes war. He wonders when will the moment come when they’ll ditch the documents in hand and fake smiles on their features and point guns at each other in these times of chaos. Only time will show.

          “Pleasure seeing you here.“ Thomas’ voice drips with formality and a faint note of sarcasm. He extends his hand as the gentleman he was, however. “I think it comes as a surprise for both of us that your buyers want to destroy this thing. Shame.“ he says with a click of his tonge, the blueprints of all the hidden rooms in the estate still in his mind. A lot had changed since he joined Famine and Thomas can only imagine what he could find in the labyrinths her husband once ordered. This property still had his name as a designer and issuer so he had to make sure he destroys them with his own hand without rising unnecessary questions. “It’d be nice to hear you’re here for more than just a signature. Sentimentality, maybe?“