[center][url=https://fontmeme.com/cool-fonts/][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180626/ccf27b0e68775755979bfbb418081ca8.png[/img][/url][/center][hr][hr] The last few days for Salem had been a living fucking nightmare, to say the least. She needed a spa day, but that was out of the questions. Spas were relaxing, but they didn’t allow her to yell, punch, and kick things. That was why she was headed to one of the various training rooms in the Guild headquarters. Well, not just any random old room: Her room. It seemed odd that the Guild leader would keep this one particular room to herself, but it held sentimental value to Salem. She walked down the corridor leisurely, pulling her hair back into a ponytail lazily as to keep it off of her face. Soon enough, she found herself at the wooden door, opening it slightly before flicking on the light. The temperature of the room was cool, though the memories of her father were warm and still fresh in her mind. This had been the last place that they had had a true conversation before his death, the last place she had really seen him. Salem had spent many a day training here, but this time, she just needed to think and let out her frustrations on the inanimate objects around her before she started taking them out on the people around her. People that annoyed her the most - such as David. There were wrestling matts covering the floor, a punching bag in the center of the room. Targets could also be found along the walls, training dummies as well. It was one of the more simple training rooms that the Guild had, but it served its purpose well. Salem took off her jacket, exposing a grey tank top underneath, as she tossed it into the corner. The blue haired woman made her way over to the wooden table littered with various supplies before picking up a roll of tape to wrap her knuckles. She scanned the room once more, always on alert if someone decided to walk into the room with her, though it was very unlikely. She walked to the punching bag now, adjusting her stance before punching it once. Something, however, was off. She needed to channel her anger, and so she started to think about various things. The first would be her fathers death. His voice ringing in her head to tell her to not let her emotions get the best of her. She had failed his instructions however, buy going to the meeting with Aloysius last night; By not crying, by not strangling him. She hit the punching bag in a fast repetition, the adrenaline coursing through her now. She was angry at her father for leaving her his mess, leaving her period. Angry at him for dying, and even more angry at herself the more she thought about it. Because rather she wanted to admit it or not, his death was her fault. She kept hitting and kicking at the punching bag now, losing herself in thought as sweat started to appear on her forehead and other various places. The next thing she thought about was Elizabeths death. Though she and Liz had never been particularly close, the Elizabeth was a part of the Guild. She had still meant something to Salem even if they weren’t necessarily friends. That would lead her to think about Circe. Cirvce was the one that killed Liz, and she had to pay for it. Sure, she had told Aloysius that the choice was his, but Circe better get down on her knees and pray like hell that Salem didn’t get to her first. Liz’s death also lead her to think about Zeke. He had notified her of Liz’s death through [i]text[/i]. That was the kind of information that was supposed to be delivered in person. The least he could have done was picked up the damned phone. But no, he had decided upon the texting method. Salem couldn't really do anything about this, however. It just annoyed the shit out of her. Salem was hitting the punching bag unnecessarily hard now, though she didn’t notice as her muscles started to burn. Her tanktop and jeans were now clinging to her body, her hair starting to fall around her face again despite her previous efforts. The main thing bugging her was Aloysius, however. Their meeting last night. She had let her emotions get the better of her. She had showed weakness in front of the enemy. Hell, she had taken the weakness one step further. Not only did she show weakness, but she cried in front of the enemy. For crying out loud, she admitted that she still loved Aloysius, even if she had done so in Spanish where only she could understand it. They had been friends, and then they had dated all those years ago. Even though he was the enemy, she still cared for him. She added that to the list of things that she would never admit aloud. Al had been her first love, and he still knew how to pull at her heartstrings. He had taken a piece of her when he defected from the Guild. Aliira was her best friend, but Al had been her person. Aloysius had been the person that she would call whenever she needed something: Rather it be a heart to heart conversation or just a 2am taco run. But that Aloysius was gone now. He disappeared years ago, and Salem was still trying to accept that fact now as hot tears streamed down her face once more. She let out a small growl through her gritted teeth, hitting the punching back over, and over, and over, with all of her strength. The truth was, Salem had come to a conclusion about Aloysius. They had a bond - no one could deny that; but it was a strange bond. They needed each other for the other to have a purpose. They coexisted rather they realized it or not. Al needed Salem to run the Guild: He needed her to be his punching bag, so to speak. Salem needed Al to be the enemy, or else the efforts that she had put into catching him over the years was pointless. Aloysius still had a piece of her. They had knew each other when they were both more carefree - more human and less shut off from the world. She had loved him, cared for him. There had been a point in her life where she would do anything for Aloysius, and him, her. Al had the part of her that knew how to show emotion, the part of her that was kind and caring; the part that laughed and smiled. To her, Aloysius was the last remainder of her old self. Living proof that she could still be… normal; not just the cold hearted bitch leader of the Guild. The truth was: Salem was scared if she killed Aloysius that she would lose a part of herself. She would lose the part of herself that he had, and she would lose the person that had meant so much to her. If she killed Aloysius, she would never see his smile again; never hear his voice or laugh. It pained her more than she cared to admit. Her decision was to never let him get the best of her again, in any way, shape or form. A decision to never show weakness to the enemy or anyone else again. If people thought that Salem was cold hearted before, they had another thing coming to them now. She let the tears fall upon her face now as she stopped to wipe them away in her frustration. She unwrapped her knuckles now, sitting down cross legged on the floor as various memories flooded her mind. For now, she just wanted to be left alone to feel her raw emotions. So there she sat alone, crying.