[♖] The help comes slowly and she’s almost hysterical with anxiety when the sirens come into hearing; the paramedics clad in white and urgency laced in a foreign language undecipherable were almost too much to bear. Outside, their steps are urgent against dampened cobblestone, and Selphy catches sight of the large timepiece in the central city that clocks midnight. It feels, almost like an omen about the limited time she and the stranger shared – a kind of disgusting, ironic poetry that gnaws like a constant dull ache.
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[௹] — Nothing is seen, with darkness being the only exception.
Her ears seem blocked by water where words become muffled and non-distinct. Quite pleasantly so, yet she loathes the suffocation of the mutter that fails to breach the surface of her ears. They sound like a song, not a good one, though. If this was a painting, she’d have slashed the canvas with her paintbrush over and over and over again until the fabric gives in. Even if it tatters and frays at the edges — she can’t hold back the aggression.
She’s never felt this, not in a long time.
A song of a steady tempo plays, with the same deafening note repeating each time it beats. It’s her heart, apparently, for when her eyes are closed she pictures a flatline. It isn’t though. She can’t decide whether she’s grateful or not, yet she should be and she finds herself indecisive. Eyelids stay heavy, with burden weighing upon them — yet they flutter open easily, to a view of fluorescent rings above her head: casting a halo in her vision that she can’t dismiss.
The room is one she’s not so used to: a public healthcare service with common folk, when she usually resides in private hospitals and often relies on machinery in her own bedroom. Though she doesn’t exactly mind, she can hear the chatter of people around her and their voices reverberating in her mind. She doesn’t know who brought her here, and she’d like to thank them — but it seems quite impossible to seek a person; a stranger.
Hopefully the stranger has Lina’s paintings in her possession, too.
Even the dragon once was a prince in another lifetime
Theeeeee Valentine children as requested by selphv! They’re the trainer classes Lady and Marquis. Erich Areleous was Cain Valentine up until he renounced his privilege in the family and adopted a new identity.
YOU KNOW WHAT I THINK ABOUT YOU (IT'S THAT I LOVE U AND YOU ARE RAD) YOUR MUSES ARE ON POINT AND EVERYTHING IS ON POINT WE GON BE TIGHT FOREVER BRUH, KNEW WE WERE GONNA BE TIGHT FROM THE FIRST TIME WE WENT YOOOOOOOOOOO
WE TIGHT WE COOL, WHENEVER U FEEL ALONE REMEMBER THAT U GOT A BUD ACROSS THE OCEAN CHEERIN U ON! GO TESS GO! OG FRIENDS BABY. :DDDD
Fire has long, thin fingers, and his skin is pretty rough and calloused from all of the time he’s spent traveling and living on his own. More than anything, though, Fire’s hands are always moving. Even when he’s not actually using them to sign something, they never stand still. They’re constantly in motion: tapping on a table, or lacing around one another, or adding emphasis to every gesture and expression he makes.
“If you couldn’t tell, Eely lives, breathes and eats KagePro. She starts off her day by listening to the music and then reading the manga at night. It’s insane.”
