shylarah

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

No, none of them had a choice. Not really -- not one that mattered. She'd had no say in what happened to her, what she'd become. "I follow no creeds." Words she would never had uttered at the Seminary sprang unbidden to her lips. "I have one thing in this godsforsaken world that no one can touch, and they may shape me as they see fit and against my wishes but they cannot make me believe." Ziotea looked down at the child, not so much shorter than she herself, and the wolf's grin returned, this time with a wild gleam in her eye. "If my strength failed me I would die. Or someone else would. We are all of us destined for death in the end. And I will go fighting with my last breath, because I can no longer remember how to flee." She tilted her head. "I could die for my warband. If you have the strength to languish in an ether factory on the behalf of your friends, then you are braver than I -- and far more cruel."

The girl's last question was unexpected and unpleasant, and the thought of her spying made Ziotea angrier still. The air around her shuddered. "Omestrian eyes are a curse on the street. Omestrian hair, all the more so. I am only half Omestrian, yet I am marked more than most. If not for the power that keeps me from feeling chill, I would have perished as a child. It might have been better that way. Certainly it would have been simpler." She scowled. "The factories are full of Omestrians suspended in agony. The stories are nothing compared to the real thing. And where is their god? I told you. I will not believe, not when it is not deserved." Her anger roiled within her, seeking something to destroy.

"You asked what would happen if I made a mistake and my warsiblings paid the price? I have made many, and nearly always, they were the ones to pay for it." She tossed her spear aside and shrugged her shield onto her shoulder, a precise burst of force pushing the steel box from under the bed. "I was never strong enough. I was only stubborn. Stubborn and destructive." Hardly a thought and the steel shattered, showering the room in jagged fragments. Her instructors would have let the younger girl fend for herself, but Ziotea remembered how that had been. She sheltered them both with shield and paling. "I destroy whatever comes near. Friend, foe, it doesn't matter. That is what Omestris means to me. Do you understand? Abandonment and destruction. I will give no loyalty to something like that."

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

@Lovejoy Yeee~

Adelon: Steeling the Faith (High-Casual)

@Mogtaki Cecil would probably assume male, then. Especially since Adrian(na) looks like one.

@Vena Sera I honestly have no idea what do do with Amune right now. I'm having some trouble writing/focusing in general. I'll take a look at stuff probably Friday -- tomorrow's gonna be busy unless I just end up being a hermit (and I might) but if people wanna go ahead of me that's fine.

Adelon: Steeling the Faith (High-Casual)

@Pascal Pretty sure Wyth and the other cat can smell otherwise, but they're not telling anyone.... *amused*

Drawing Characters!

@Mae holy crud that's gorgeous wrinkles.

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

"Don't call me that," Ziotea groused at the boy with a frown. She followed without comment, noting the turns, the places where ambushes might be set, the places that would be easier to defend. She glared at the third cot like it was offensive, and made a noise of disapproval as Vahn again called her "my lady". "Stop fussing with the sheets and get out," she told him, bothered by his fretful timidity. Had she ever been so grovelling? She didn't think so. Even at her most frightened, she had always been angry.

He bowed and left and nearly slammed into Rose as she entered. Ziotea watched her, trying to sort out the complicated emotions she felt. Respect for the girl's determination. Jealousy, perhaps, for having escaped when she herself had not. Disgust, because in the end it wouldn't matter. There were other things, but she couldn't put names to them.

And then surprise at the strange prosthetics, followed by a guess at what had happened. "Frostbite," she said quietly, not quite a question. "And no modern facility to handle setting the implants, or perhaps someone with limited skill." Rodion would wonder what they were made of, how they worked, why they were different from most replacement body parts, and the thought of what he would do if he were here made a faint smile flicker across her face. But Ziotea was less interested in those answers. She noted that the fingers resembled decorations in the ballroom back at the Seminary, and moved on.

"Don't thank me; I listened for my own reasons." Ziotea looked away for a moment. "I might be wondering why I bothered coming myself," she added softly, before again meeting the child's gaze. "You were right to challenge me. I would have tracked you down otherwise, once I sensed you here. But you should have done it before we reached the bedrolls, if you meant to keep your friends safe." She gave the child a cold, wolfish smile. "You probably wouldn't have survived it without Essa's help, but I might have lost interest after." She considered the girl again, the anger directed at her comfortable, even familiar. "You said it yourself: we are enemies, you and I. Not because of anything either one of us did, but because of who we are." She leaned on her spear with confident nonchalance. "Listen close, little briar. You are brave, and I can respect that. I would kill you anyhow, if Essa was not here, but she's stronger than I. Perhaps she's right, and the Church knows she's here and doesn't care, but that could change. She won't be enough to protect you forever. She will die, or someone stronger than her will come along, and they will crush her and take your friends back to the Scarlet House, and you...." Ziotea trailed off, remembering not the ether factories but rather Rodion's face during one of their misguided efforts. "You are too strong to leave at that, and you are too old to become an Inquisitor. Whatever suffering and humiliation you saw there, it is nothing compared to what your fate would be now. It is not something I would wish on anyone, however vile. So by all means, become as strong as you can, but if you should find you are not strong enough...killing you now would have been a mercy, compared to the living death that awaits you." The twisted smile faded from her face, and she spoke with simple intensity. "Be sure you die, rather than let them take you."

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

@Lovejoy No worries!

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

@CollectorOfMyst *glomps* I mean, you don't always. Sometimes. But they're worth the wait, unless I'm feeling really impatient.

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

@Lovejoy I cannot like this enough. Lemme guess...frostbite? Vahn is adorable. SO MANY THINGS. *twirling* <3

A note, though. Zt's hair is less scarlet and more orange. Natural red, not...red-red. ^.^;; Pretty much the exact shade in her char pic, actually, or so I've come to see it. I might've called it red in the very beginning.

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

@Lovejoy ^Post _post post post POST!