05-28-2018, 08:10 PM
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[sup]c) miithers[/sup]
★ WHEN MY HEART IS MADE FROM GOLD AND FORGIVENESS SEEMS TOO BOLD
Hazel's eyes were wide with wonder and hope - twin pools of molten gold glowing ever so faintly in her excitement, the same reaction she had when she realized Bastille could speak it, too. She watched Margy intently, practically hanging on the next words that fell from her lips. Margy had been speaking quietly, and it was possible that Hazel had misunderstood; after all, there were similarities to English in the language.
Not to mention that Margy looked a little dazed, which was...a little concerning, actually. "Margy, are you okay?" Hazel asked, brows pinching. Margaery had a similar look to the way Hazel's head felt the night of her flashback, and that was just not okay. She didn't want to shake her out of anything, though. Something told her that wasn't going to end well. So the girl waited, only a bit impatient, dragging her teeth anxiously over her bottom lip. Latin was such an important thing to her - if Margaery could really speak it, then...that made three of them! Deus, the number of things to do with it would be limitless, and Hazel was excited, so excited -
And then Margy was speaking, the foreign language rolling off her tongue like it had been there the entire time. Hazel smiled so wide her eyes crinkled and her face hurt, because wow, wow, there were officially two people in the Ascendants that could speak Latin!
"Illud est mirabile, Margy." The girl breathed, elated and practically glowing. "Latine loqui non posset de cognatione mea." She added a bit wistfully. Actually, if her Mother had been able to speak it, that would have been the worst sort of nightmare imaginable. Hazel was glad that she couldn't. "Sis felix nimis." She tacked on. Her past was still a secret of sorts, and any sort of clue was not to be risked. Though...every day Hazel felt the guilt grow inside her, because these people were quickly becoming very dear to her, and she was keeping a massive secret from them. And Margaery's question didn't help - Hazel could feel the information bubbling at the base of her brain, but she held it back.
Her gaze became a little more guarded as she shook her head. "Et nota quod in tota vita mea. Nullus docuit me." She shrugged, wanting to divert the topic as quickly as possible. The origin of her ability was something she'd rather not discuss, partly because it segued into other, darker parts of her history and partly because it stirred something deep in her soul that she didn't care to explore at that point.
Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Hazel regarded Margy with a thoughtful expression. "If you were taught by - " Suddenly she paused, voice trailing off as the familiar sound of metal-against-pendant entered her ears. She turned, and found Bastille standing a few feet away. Immediately, Hazel's expression lit up again and her tail lifted, because: "Bast! Did you know that Margy speaks Latin, too? That makes three of us!"
The girl waited, hoping for a positive reaction from him, because this was good news, but found nothing in his expression. In fact, the harder she looked, the more she saw just the opposite of what she was wishing for. There was a twisted irritation there, and briefly, Hazel flashed to their most recent time together. It had been a little later at night than usual, and she was already tired from the day, but Bastille still sat and read to her. She could tell he was trying to be patient, despite her slow pace. He was so different during that time - so much softer around the edges. Eventually, Hazel had fallen asleep there on his floor, listening to him read. It felt safe there; safe and protected.
They hadn't done that for a few nights, now. Hazel missed it. A lot. She couldn't understand why he looked so jealous, his face pinched and tight, and - Hazel blinked, watching in utter confusion as his eyes warmed to tropical blue and green for a fraction of a second and the earth splintered beneath him. Hazel stared, completely at a loss, because she had no idea what was going on, and he seemed upset. The only time his powers slipped was when his emotions did, too.
"Well, I guess Margy will make a much better teacher than me, anyway."
Hazel eyes went wide again. "Guess Margy'll make a better..." She trailed off, mouth parted on the words. She shook her head ever so slightly, brain struggling to wrap around the words and what they meant. She glanced at Margaery, grasping at straws and trying to piece it together. The Latin, him teaching her to read, Margy, him getting upset...what was this all -
Oh.
She started forward, an apology on her lips: "Bastille, wait a second, that's not what - " She flinched back at the sparks flying from his paws, even though he had made no move towards them. Hazel looked again towards Margaery, just a bit desperate and helpless in the situation. Crap, when had this gone so badly? He sounded jealous, and rejected, and Hazel literally wanted anything but to end those sessions with him. But then he was gone, and Hazel was staring at open air and a splinter in the ground.
"I think I messed up, Margy." The girl whispered.
("illud est mirabile, Margy." - That is amazing, Margy.
"Latine loqui non posset de cognatione mea." - None of my family could speak Latin.
"Sis felix nimis." - You are very lucky.
"Et nota quod in tota vita mea. Nullus docuit me." - I have known it all my life. Nobody taught me.)
Not to mention that Margy looked a little dazed, which was...a little concerning, actually. "Margy, are you okay?" Hazel asked, brows pinching. Margaery had a similar look to the way Hazel's head felt the night of her flashback, and that was just not okay. She didn't want to shake her out of anything, though. Something told her that wasn't going to end well. So the girl waited, only a bit impatient, dragging her teeth anxiously over her bottom lip. Latin was such an important thing to her - if Margaery could really speak it, then...that made three of them! Deus, the number of things to do with it would be limitless, and Hazel was excited, so excited -
And then Margy was speaking, the foreign language rolling off her tongue like it had been there the entire time. Hazel smiled so wide her eyes crinkled and her face hurt, because wow, wow, there were officially two people in the Ascendants that could speak Latin!
"Illud est mirabile, Margy." The girl breathed, elated and practically glowing. "Latine loqui non posset de cognatione mea." She added a bit wistfully. Actually, if her Mother had been able to speak it, that would have been the worst sort of nightmare imaginable. Hazel was glad that she couldn't. "Sis felix nimis." She tacked on. Her past was still a secret of sorts, and any sort of clue was not to be risked. Though...every day Hazel felt the guilt grow inside her, because these people were quickly becoming very dear to her, and she was keeping a massive secret from them. And Margaery's question didn't help - Hazel could feel the information bubbling at the base of her brain, but she held it back.
Her gaze became a little more guarded as she shook her head. "Et nota quod in tota vita mea. Nullus docuit me." She shrugged, wanting to divert the topic as quickly as possible. The origin of her ability was something she'd rather not discuss, partly because it segued into other, darker parts of her history and partly because it stirred something deep in her soul that she didn't care to explore at that point.
Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Hazel regarded Margy with a thoughtful expression. "If you were taught by - " Suddenly she paused, voice trailing off as the familiar sound of metal-against-pendant entered her ears. She turned, and found Bastille standing a few feet away. Immediately, Hazel's expression lit up again and her tail lifted, because: "Bast! Did you know that Margy speaks Latin, too? That makes three of us!"
The girl waited, hoping for a positive reaction from him, because this was good news, but found nothing in his expression. In fact, the harder she looked, the more she saw just the opposite of what she was wishing for. There was a twisted irritation there, and briefly, Hazel flashed to their most recent time together. It had been a little later at night than usual, and she was already tired from the day, but Bastille still sat and read to her. She could tell he was trying to be patient, despite her slow pace. He was so different during that time - so much softer around the edges. Eventually, Hazel had fallen asleep there on his floor, listening to him read. It felt safe there; safe and protected.
They hadn't done that for a few nights, now. Hazel missed it. A lot. She couldn't understand why he looked so jealous, his face pinched and tight, and - Hazel blinked, watching in utter confusion as his eyes warmed to tropical blue and green for a fraction of a second and the earth splintered beneath him. Hazel stared, completely at a loss, because she had no idea what was going on, and he seemed upset. The only time his powers slipped was when his emotions did, too.
"Well, I guess Margy will make a much better teacher than me, anyway."
Hazel eyes went wide again. "Guess Margy'll make a better..." She trailed off, mouth parted on the words. She shook her head ever so slightly, brain struggling to wrap around the words and what they meant. She glanced at Margaery, grasping at straws and trying to piece it together. The Latin, him teaching her to read, Margy, him getting upset...what was this all -
Oh.
She started forward, an apology on her lips: "Bastille, wait a second, that's not what - " She flinched back at the sparks flying from his paws, even though he had made no move towards them. Hazel looked again towards Margaery, just a bit desperate and helpless in the situation. Crap, when had this gone so badly? He sounded jealous, and rejected, and Hazel literally wanted anything but to end those sessions with him. But then he was gone, and Hazel was staring at open air and a splinter in the ground.
"I think I messed up, Margy." The girl whispered.
("illud est mirabile, Margy." - That is amazing, Margy.
"Latine loqui non posset de cognatione mea." - None of my family could speak Latin.
"Sis felix nimis." - You are very lucky.
"Et nota quod in tota vita mea. Nullus docuit me." - I have known it all my life. Nobody taught me.)
★ — hazel — "speech" — seven months — the ascendants — tags — ★
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WITH EVERY HEARTBEAT I HAVE LEFT
i will defend your every breath; i'll do better