05-28-2018, 01:03 PM
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★ WHEN MY HEART IS MADE FROM GOLD AND FORGIVENESS SEEMS TOO BOLD
Hazel was just the slightest bit lost. Since Starry’s passing, the clan was dragging, pulling this invisible weight that everybody could see but was unable to get rid of. Some bore heavier weights than others, the grief clinging to them so heavily that they looked like they might collapse. They wore it bravely; they kept walking and tried talking, kept moving through the motions like an actor reading from a script. She wasn’t as bogged down as some, and felt the shift in mood in full rather than with the detachment. It was sudden and infectious, seeping into her skin and curling around her bones, tugging at the happiness she tried so hard to hold on to.
Hazel knew full well that Bastille carried around Starry’s pendant; she could hear it clinking against that coin he always wore. It took away the unsettling ability he had to just appear without prior notice, and she wasn’t sure if it was odd or not that she could hear him coming. She wondered what else he carried with that pendant, because it wasn’t just the little metal pieces dangling from the chain that pulled his head down.
She’d known from the moment she met him that he was capable of great leadership. It was intimidating and imminently fascinating, and it hadn’t taken long before it had captured a large portion of Hazel’s curiosity. It was obvious to her that he didn’t want the skill he so clearly possessed, despite having risen to the occasion anyway. It was almost like he split himself in two between his position in the clan and the boy he was supposed to be. Hazel saw a different side of him when they were alone; when there was no one around to expect anything from him but a story. Everything about him would be softer, from the tight line of his shoulders to the tone of voice he took on when he opened the cover of the book they were reading. He would look…alive when he read, like it brought a special sort of pleasure that nothing else could. Hazel missed that. He was avoiding her now - again - and she didn’t really know what to do with herself.
Now, she didn’t know what to make of him. He was radiating the quiet, trigger-sensitive power that he always did, but this was more...radioactive. More unstable. The glass around his red button was rapidly breaking, and he looked like he wanted to be anywhere other than that spot. Hazel felt the unease ripple stronger across her nerves, being able to pick out the signs of him being close to snapping. But she didn’t know all the signs, and that was what drove the discomfort that hummed under her skin. Suite and Margy and Bastille all had telepathy, and could clearly communicate without so much as a second glance at the other, and Hazel was just...out in the cold, completely out of the loop. She was aware she had joined far too late to be part of the little family bond the trio had formed, and that was alright with her. She just wanted to be able to help.
As it was, she was already late to the meeting, which was...kind of becoming a habit. Yikes. The cocoa feline settled down in a little spot to herself, curling her tail around her body so it rested over the tips of her forepaws.
Hazel knew full well that Bastille carried around Starry’s pendant; she could hear it clinking against that coin he always wore. It took away the unsettling ability he had to just appear without prior notice, and she wasn’t sure if it was odd or not that she could hear him coming. She wondered what else he carried with that pendant, because it wasn’t just the little metal pieces dangling from the chain that pulled his head down.
She’d known from the moment she met him that he was capable of great leadership. It was intimidating and imminently fascinating, and it hadn’t taken long before it had captured a large portion of Hazel’s curiosity. It was obvious to her that he didn’t want the skill he so clearly possessed, despite having risen to the occasion anyway. It was almost like he split himself in two between his position in the clan and the boy he was supposed to be. Hazel saw a different side of him when they were alone; when there was no one around to expect anything from him but a story. Everything about him would be softer, from the tight line of his shoulders to the tone of voice he took on when he opened the cover of the book they were reading. He would look…alive when he read, like it brought a special sort of pleasure that nothing else could. Hazel missed that. He was avoiding her now - again - and she didn’t really know what to do with herself.
Now, she didn’t know what to make of him. He was radiating the quiet, trigger-sensitive power that he always did, but this was more...radioactive. More unstable. The glass around his red button was rapidly breaking, and he looked like he wanted to be anywhere other than that spot. Hazel felt the unease ripple stronger across her nerves, being able to pick out the signs of him being close to snapping. But she didn’t know all the signs, and that was what drove the discomfort that hummed under her skin. Suite and Margy and Bastille all had telepathy, and could clearly communicate without so much as a second glance at the other, and Hazel was just...out in the cold, completely out of the loop. She was aware she had joined far too late to be part of the little family bond the trio had formed, and that was alright with her. She just wanted to be able to help.
As it was, she was already late to the meeting, which was...kind of becoming a habit. Yikes. The cocoa feline settled down in a little spot to herself, curling her tail around her body so it rested over the tips of her forepaws.
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WITH EVERY HEARTBEAT I HAVE LEFT
i will defend your every breath; i'll do better