[center][img]https://i.gyazo.com/e733675fdccb10e2ac7c5210f3161a2a.png[/img] [img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/201114/bc6f475fea3cb608b073822f0c581099.png[/img][/center] [hr] She sits. Stable. Still. Solid. Centered at the base of all, she sits quietly, letting Wind breathe through her, Water shape and caress her boundaries, Fire flow within her veins carrying Purity and Refinement. She knows of Time and Distance, cataloging both in innumerable measure to the scales of the meager life she nurtures. And so much life it is. The greenery, holding silent vigil where once awash with the roar of wildness, before the clouds of toxic ink shore and twisted it away. Those that crawled along the ground, dug within it, furtively living beneath the poison, too. And of course, the great Sancti of man— each and every last foot that pounded upon stone, upon steel, upon the walls that they had erected into and from her flesh, her essence shaped and extruded to protect them. She is surely aware of them, as they rise to her heights and desperately cling to what boons she could still give them, leveling all of their heart, their cunning, and their mulelike stubbornness against the shadows that veiled her. How could she not feel her angriest sons and daughters fighting? No, that's not right. Not hers... but nonetheless shared with her. How? Despite agreeing with the sentiment, she's no mother. She is her, obviously, and yet— She is at the greatest height of the world, and at its deepest trench. Ever-present in both mountain peak and secluded, sealed cavern. It does not make sense to her thoughts when she tries for them, yet her mind understands it. A connection to all things, vast and so far beyond the reckoning of even the smartest among them, let alone someone as simple as she— yet for all she cannot name, define, or compartmentalize it, she can [i]feel[/i] among that expanse in a way she had not when succumbing to those sterile white lanterns. Maybe it is her simplicity that allows for it. A kinship. She and this primal essence have a kinship, her heart decides, unbidden by the brain's usual monologue. Both are solid, both are honest, both are centered within their world. They lend a weight to themselves, material and metaphysical, that stabilizes and serves as a foundation for all they take upon themselves, all they are surrounded by. She has tapped into something much akin to her, in personality, in temperament, in way of being. Her and her new friend would probably get along great. Their strengths, together, could make a great change. To tap into something so vast in any respect made it seem a cinch in comparison. Would it be that easy? No. Definitely not, but this would always be there, always bolster her, always provide the bedrock upon which she could build her every dream into reality. She carried it within her as it carried her upon itself, just like all the others that breathed and walked. Green eyes open, as the seated girl noticed this. She found herself, as she sat, within the depths of an oak forest. At the back of her mind she could still feel the enormity she had toured, and a wave of wry amusement passed over her as she realized just how lost she'd gotten. To vibe with something so omnipresent as ..rth, one needed to spread their profile a bit— zoom out to get it all into frame. Finding a tiny little sapling again could get tricky, [color=00a99d]mhm, mhm[/color]. But now she had drawn things back into square one, cognizant of her context. The songbird perched on her head was light as its feathers. The fox in the bushes, wandering across in search of good hunting, carried himself with such care and lightness of tread. The ancient trees, once acorns in yet older soil, breathed and drank and spoke with voices too slow and soft to hear. This was where she had been hiding away, then. How nice... But having pulled herself back together from that wide reach, Selma knows that this is soon to end. Green eyes open, this time for real. [hr] [color=00a99d]"Wuuuugh. [i]No.[/i]"[/color] She replied, frank as a girl ever could be, to the first words she heard. [color=00a99d]"I feel like I spent about three days at work without any sleep. Don't worry, Crystal, I don't [i]wanna[/i] move."[/color] Every muscle she knew how to use and some she didn't know were a [i]thing[/i] felt tight, wound together into scouts' knots by the procedure, her body's reaction to whatever had been done. They felt less like meat and more like hardwood... maybe steel cable. That IV drip hadn't gone too far into the vein, had it? [color=00a99d][i]Nah, that's not how that works, dummy.[/i][/color] Having been briefed on the general outline of the surgery ahead of time, she fought the urge to feel around her navel for the Armagus implanted within— twelve-cylinder Nox engine that, if she heard right, came in [color=39b54a][i]green[/i][/color]. It felt like a weight within her gut, for certain. A heavy, cold stone that somehow... permeated her, now that she thought of it. Maybe that tautness wasn't entirely muscles needing a good hard stretch. She felt like shit, that much was certain. Barely thinking straight and sore for days, but beneath that? Well, the word she couldn't get out of her head was [i]sturdy[/i]. She felt, beneath the cloud of pain and haze of disjointed consciousness, that she could probably handle the workload she'd just bemoaned if she had to. Ars Magi, huh? They really were a cut above your average jane... Her eyes, while contemplating this, slid over the other four, stuck in the same situation. Not three. Not three? Chie Crystal Rivka Me Whoooooo is this one? [color=00a99d]"Hey, where'd you come from? We don't know eachother yet, last I checked— I'm Selma."[/color] Sturdy. Still. Stable. Solid. Not Subtle.