≫ Earth can represent balance, a strong presence set firmly. Steady, solid and unmoving – oh but when it shakes, it holds no qualms and destruction is never a stranger. Everything crumbles and wherever you teeter, eventually you slip. She’s used to walk a rocky path, no such thing as knowledge of an easy life and for now she knows pressing forward is the only way to attain her goals. Death had been in no way kind, she can remember Meganada’s fangs around her and its weight deterring her every move. A smile for a farewell sufficed, however. Tender, so gentle she can be reassured this is the end and fear no longer should plague her mind. Soreness remains, and she can barely recognize this as another reality, everything is in a blur and keeping herself together is taxing.
She couldn’t tell if this was her imagination or if this Heat was any real. If so, why her head would play such crude prank when he had brought nothing but harm to the tribe? She remember what he did, plain as daylight despite all the hazy (and unfairly invasive) memories.
She can never presume they had a close bond. Comradeship feels like a shallow concept, it falls through her fingers and can only acknowledge him as familiar but never as someone that should cause further than nostalgia. He’s been with there longer that can she recall, at Serph’s side – she never noticed until later how his factions were a tad lonely when placing aside the fire burning within. Was it wrong not reaching for him and accept who her comrade had been in the last days of the Junkyard? Confusion takes a grip on the asura, unsure what should she make of this visage. She’s angry for a fact, betrayed even though she has no right to say so and her incapacity of understatement deepens further the turmoil in her head.
“I doubt you’re trying to look for them to apologize, huh? Is running away now your sort of thing? I finally can say I don’t know you…” She reaches for his arm, slender fingers grip tightly around it to prevent his departure. Cold sweat falls down and although lips part, her throat is too dry to even dare uttering a single word. Pink pierces through red in a way, yet irises tremble whilst holding on his gaze. She’s nervous, as if in any instant she’d be engulfed by his flame. Eyebrows knit in a frown, determined to withstand his slow burn if needed.
Justice must be brought, somehow. For Serph and Sera.
“You killed Serph.” For having plenty to say she couldn’t place it properly, no sentence can arrange appropriately what she feels – not now and doubted later it could be possibly attained.
“You killed my leader…” ‘Our Leader.’ “You don’t have any right to be here! Did you think I would let you be?! THAT I’LL IGNORE WHAT THE HELL YOU DID TO US!? I’ll make you pay… for everything…”
It could have been anyone else, honestly. Yet, destiny (Or whatever, he doesn’t really care about it at all. Brutally honest with that) pulls some strings, disorders the “peaceful” path he had a few minutes prior this encounter and changes everything. Wish some quick-change would have appeared. Wrap his head with a sheet, cut some eyeholes, now you can call him a ghost, but it also seems like a divine joke, some kind of cosmic punishment of sorts, or probably just a bad joke, nothing more and nothing else. (Like his entire life. Had pinched him together out of faux data and played with him like a Lego.) And still, even knowing the real truth about all things, he had swallowed it hook, line, and sinker.
The silence is uncomfortable, but of course he won’t break it. Doesn’t need to, knows full well she’s going to do that in a few, always been like that. Have been comrades for ages, he would like to say he knows all her quirks, but that would be a lie. Never focused (or was willing to waste energy) on it, but he knows enough to draw that kind of hypothesis, despite how reckless he could be.
All of those he has experienced left an acute hollow within him, tossing him aside like a scraped paper or whatever. He kept him for himself, not like they would care. Sera didn’t, nor Argilla. To an extent, Serph. Though out of everyone, he was the ... most reasonable, it was his leader, after all.
And she speaks, lamenting over something she already answered herself, shrugs it off with a roll of shoulders, not saying a word until —
“What do you know, anyway. You have always been annoying,”
—And swats her arm away, “Don’t touch me,” He only halts because he knows she has something else to say, but probably she will spout the same thing over and over, going in circles and making a wreck on her mind, just like him. However, what does he know, truly? His life is not his, technically speaking. All this anger he’s feeling is but rows and columns of complex codes he has yet to understand. Probably never will, but that’s the least of his problems. He’s here, and that’s the only certain fact he can prove.
"What would you do, anyway. Push me with your disgusting body? Leave me alone, seriously. You don’t know anything about me.” After that, he hastens his pace.
