[center][IMG]http://i.imgur.com/QWuwBAI.png[/IMG][/center] --- [indent][i]Wait.[/i] But Magdalena doesn’t want to wait. She’s tired of waiting, tired of the idleness that stirs her soul in complacency, of every switching interval of time and second that tolls away the perpetual evil that has painted a crude clock against her heart. It’s a macabre decoration of the soul that gradually begins to descend with every stroke of that elongated hand, the seconds are agonizing and the hours are long, the days are shadowed memories and the years become nothing more than long forgotten stories of used to be’s and once upon a times. There’s an aquamarine tar sluicing through her veins and it’s cutting across marrow and stinging her skin and lighting up the deep punctures of violet. Gone are the bisque edges and jagged browns against a pale complexion and she bids their departure with a saddened simper that drags down the edges of her face when small fingers trace across indigo hued capillaries. But in her moment of gratitude, in which she cannot help or fathom, Magdalena who is smaller than most and yet demanding in her desires for pain, willed her treads to still. She wouldn't be able to discern that flicker of emotion that flashed across Olivia’s eyes, startling and within haste, much like the eternal spark of lightning she commanded by her heart. Magdalena’s brow contoured in a play of confusion, slightly perplexed but not bothered by the fixation of paralysis that corded her limbs tight as well, committed to her place by the strange whirl of her constant obscurity that snaked across skin and festooned to the shadow Olivia cast. It’s like being bound in a singular spirit continent: a mass of black that isn’t writhing but stilled and patient in whatever this is. Blue eyes spark, as if bidding fire to her mouth with the vermilion colour curling like a snake around twin irises, her skin summons a small lick of flame and soft, supple lips curl against her cheek. Her face burns in a tumble of emotions she can’t begin to label or give acknowledgment too, there’s too little time to properly categorize each and every single one that is given homage to her heart and eyes; though temporary, they leave their mark. Magdalena’s nerves flair as if summoning a warning; a pulsating heat that thrums across her veins and chases away the rest of the potion through her system in a sudden rush that leaves her skin tingling. The sudden exhilaration brings affront a memory that was somewhere lost within her, bidden by the influx of sensibility in flesh contact.[/indent] ---- ａ ｍｏｔｈｅｒ'ｓ ｌｏｖｅ» [indent][i]Gabriele Abendroth had never wanted daughters, she had only ever wished for sons. Women in her family were seldom blessed with luck and fortunate, as if eternally affixed with curses and hardship, inflicted by love and never proffered such sensation. Gabriele had wept the day her twins had been borne, holding each to her bosom so they could hear the fracturing of her heart within her breast, her tears mistaken in that hospital for souls. It was the first time she ever held her daughter and it would be the only time in many years to come from that unfortunate birth. Magdalena had been a quiet child, standing often next to her carbon copy twin who had the fascination of plucking her babe curls from her scalp. Gabriele often blamed herself because of that, doting upon her sons and granting them soft kisses and honeyed words. Maggie had to seek affections form her father, who in his committed job and career had barely the notion to pat her head and allow her to play in the streets. They trusted the little brown haired boy. But it was on the day when she held her mother’s hand and made it bleed over and over again with her nails, when her brothers and father left in a march to their graves, that Gabriele had bent down to scoop up her child and kiss her saltine cheeks for the first and last time.[/i][/indent] ---- ｏｕｔ ｐｏｓｔ» [indent]What seems like minutes is barely configured in actual seconds, leaving Magdalena barely anytime to want to jerk away from the taller girl’s sudden affection, it isn’t black hair she sees, but blonde, curled and long like her mother’s. It makes her chest hurt. She doesn’t know why she’s crying, perhaps in pain from the reddened saturation of her lips, or in an emotion she doesn’t know personally, but her shadow seems to swell with it. The petite figure is left to watch her friend turn and leave, the image of her mother banished, unable to beseech to her why, but would she really want to know? Her blue eyes merely watch as she goes before she seeks out her moment of rest, cheek still blazing and impression-ed with her kiss.[/indent] ---- ｂｏｓｓ ｂａｔｔｌｅ Ｉ» [indent]There’s a pain in her chest that cinches tight and burns, as if racking her lungs into fractures that fight to puncture her lungs and heart; the pressure is immense from where the Caudata’s attack had slammed into her; sending ripples of continuous malady that made her vision blurred. She wheezes, fingers grappling through waves of muck and sludge, her nails scraping against sodden stone that slicks and stains her fingers black. She barely registers Olivia coming to her aide again, her weapon being thrust into her trembling fingers and her frame pulled from the pestilent waters teeming with the tiny, skeletal insectoids coming to their figures. Pain numbs her entirely to acknowledging anything aside from the bruising agony in her torso, her lashes fluttering in attempt to gain purchase of her mind before a smog clogs her throat and lungs, making them inflate against her cracked ribs and her teeth to grit against each other in a grimace. Magdalena coughs against the substance blackening her teeth and tongue, combined with her blood and dripping from the corners of her lips as she heaves against the tar trying to grasp purchase against her insides. She has barely any time to hoist her chakram up front in the sudden flash of scales and dark waters, using it as a sort of brace before the Caudata utilizes its massive size against them, the force of the impact cutting her cinched fingers upon her circlet. She jerked and fought against the writhing touches of tiny claws and sluicing tendrils across her arms and rubbing across her throat, her sudden movements chaffing her back against the ledge, her uniform providing only a small amount of comfort against the hard, unforgiving stone at their backs. In the confined space her breath labours and panics, bidding her eyes to clench shut against the panic rising in a vicious, bloody cry against her lips. [/indent] ---- ａ ｌｉｇｈｔ ｉｎ ｔｈｅ ｄｏｏｒ» [indent][i]They’re in the dark again and it’s his body this time that presses against her, a constant weight against her fragile bones. There’s a void beneath her and one in her heart where every touch and bite descends to wilt away with her internal extremities - faulted and dying by poison filled kisses and teeth like serpent fangs piercings her lips and tongue. When she fights him, he just hits harder, and when she denies him, he just gets angrier. But while on the surface she is dead and lax and willing, inside there’s a demon waiting to be unleashed and it breaths in her hate and anguish and feeds off of it - saves it for later. The light from the door, peeking between the cracks, is a mocking glimmer of salvation and waiting escape, in which trembling fingers reach for and brush cracked nails across the purposeful fissures. The door never opens, it won’t, no matter how many times she wishes and wills it with her drowned eyes and begs with her cracked lips. It’s always closed.[/i][/indent] ---- ｂｏｓｓ ｂａｔｔｌｅ Ｉ» [indent]A scream tore through her panic, wrenching eyes open and her sliced fingers to grip tighter on the chakram now blotted with her weeping crimson and the black taint of the fiend. A righteous bellow tore through her ears, made teeth sliver and slice into the pout of her lip as the pressure finally was alleviated from her battered chest. Magdalena drew in sharp, ragged breaths that rattled against her bones and throat. She fought for a breath that didn’t surrender her body to pain, but each inhale was a fixed increment of torture that made her chest cavity struggle against the momentum of her gasping sounds. She used her weapon to hold herself up, prone over the gleaming blades as she cast blue eyes up to the manic simper of their savior. Pure rage and lust boiled there within eyes she had never glanced into, but memories served kind hands and a plea to remain and this was not the same man. There was a kinful blood lust and desire that Magdalena knew all too well, the relinquish of your soul in the yawning jowls of something horrid, foul, and ever the dark pleasure of sadistic means. The masochist in her thrummed alive, bidden by the display Aaron put forth in a psychotic splendor, it was terrifying, it was ugly, but it was something to witness when the ebonette blood continued to spill in constant, thick torrents over the scene. It was pitiful to watch as the Caudata struggled against the vicious attack, scales still boiling and now sliced open by the ceremonial twists and lashes of dual blades now thick and heavy with taint. She willed her blue eyes else where, unable to observe the malicious spectacle no matter how much she knew it personally, the haze of red was unrelenting in truth. She was coughing repeatedly, her fingers stained black and red and nerves singing in their pain from minuscule slivers in her skin, when Kimberly approached. His frantic blubbering was uncharacteristic of him in every way as he searched her body for wounds and lesions. Magdalena reached out for him then, light fingers grazing against his armour - Lena. It was a moniker she was unaccustomed to, however, she had heard it before she knew. Somewhere in the past of flashing fists and exchanged blows.[/indent] ---- ｏａｋ ｒｉｄｇｅ» [indent][i]“Lena!” Her mind reeled, eyes blinking rapidly against the harsh lights then before a visage swam across her vision. “Ow.” Warm hands probed across her brow, indicating to the harsh throbbing ringing her temple and cheek bone. “You were supposed to dodge that,” he muttered, trying to catch attention of her blue eyes that averted his stare constantly, never permitting him to stare into them. Her mind was still trying to process certain events, and Kimberly never spoke this much, which made the entire situation surreal. Warm hands brushed across her sweat deluged hair, mindful of her reddening brow that began to swell. There was a gentleness to them, callouses on each gesture that slid down her cheek and swept across the line of her jaw, she winced. “That hurts too.” “You’re distracted today.” It was an accusatory speech, one she would never think of him to say, but there was something within his stare that wasn’t his. As if another stood there and was glancing at her repeatedly, searching, looking for something she couldn’t fathom. Blue eyes finally slid over his face and the intensity of his glare made her flinch. “You can tell me, Lena.”[/i][/indent] ---- ａ ｖｏｉｄ; ａ ｓｐｅｌｌ» [indent]Magdalena could only nod her head, unable to speak past her newly acquired wounds in this bought. It seemed as if Kimberly had finally returned to normal, the same stoic individual that constantly sought after the safety of his friends. She fought every urge and impulse to retract and jerk her hand back to her side, but the sudden warmth spreading and spindling across her skin made her still immediately. She felt a tickling sensation across her arms as spiritual energies suddenly came to, her former pains gradually beginning to bar away from her skin and body, ribs began to mend slowly and her internal woes became bearable but not completely renewed. Somewhat revitalized, Magdalena breathed in deep, despite the air still stewing with infecting spirits, but it was without a cracking anguish in her chest and she was grateful for it. But as soon as the warmth came, it was gone, sectioned off suddenly when Kimberly bid them both well enough and turned to face the Caudata with obvious intent. Magdalena flexed her fingers, only some still bleeding now though most of the cuts had been smoothed over with pale skin and barely noticeable scars. She turned to Olivia, searching her Captain for any serious blemishes before she gaped her lips and coughed around her voice finding way to her throat. “What should we do?” She inquired, her stare distracted by Kimberly beginning to grapple with the foe, his strength almost succeeding in completely rending the beast’s arm from its bulbous body. But desperate times bid the creature to nearly descend into a barrel roll to dislodge the giant attacker completely, it made something in her chest cinch tight, almost suffocating as she struggled to summon her spirits, their wavering shadows and darkness absent from her frame unlike they usually were. But there was nothing but a screeching void, a hollow drone of nothingness instead of heat and dark obscurities. Panic assuaged her insides, made her fingers tremble suddenly as she called to them again and again, she had seen Aaron and Kim bring forth their own, so why were hers no longer forth coming? Magdalena’s breath quickened, her chest rising and falling into rapid inhales and exchanged exhales. She felt empty, hollow, alone, even her own shadow was no longer present as if terrified and fearful despite their own origins and powers. There was nothing, nothing at all. [i]She was suddenly, utterly, nothing.[/i][/indent]