06-16-2018, 12:57 AM
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[sup]c) miithers[/sup]
★ WHEN MY HEART IS MADE FROM GOLD AND FORGIVENESS SEEMS TOO BOLD
Hazel was all too aware of the fact that she’d been neglecting Arion recently.
In realizing that her friends were hurting, Hazel had been attempting to disappear without actually disappearing. She still made her rounds along the border when a joiner popped up and she still talked to others, she just didn’t go looking for it. She had stopped actively seeking conversation. And...it wasn’t really that hard, either. She’d been locked in her room for days and days back home; this was nothing.
The only key difference between the Ascendants and home was the lock on her door. Here, she had freedom. Here, she had choices. That in it of itself was exciting enough, to be honest. She could pick different places to go and avoid people if she really wanted to. Her favorite places to go were the pebble shoreline (though she stayed far away from the water), the flower fields, and just around the side of the observatory that faced west - she could catch the sunset sometimes if she was lucky. In those quiet, isolated placed, Hazel would untie the bandana from her forearm and run her fingers over the ugly pink scar, thinking about how she needed to tell someone someday and how she was ever going to do that if the people she wanted to tell could hardly look at each other.
But Arion was a different case.
One might think that the young horse would follow her everywhere. They seemed fairly inseparable at the start, anyway. But now? Now Arion followed Octavia - Bastille’s coal-black Arabian. And Hazel had to give it to Arion: she was cute. A real heart-stopper. What she found funny, though, was that Arion would hang around with just about anyone that showed him attention. Octavia hardly gave him a second glance before turning her muzzle in the other direction. Still, Arion trailed after her like a love-struck yearling. It was...downright unnatural, if you caught mii’s reference. The other oddity was that he’d taken to Bastille surprisingly well. Hazel had sort of chalked it up to the boy simply talking in the Thoroughbred’s direction.
Hazel was undoubtedly a bit bitter about it all, and it wasn’t solely because her horse was hanging around someone else when she could really use a shoulder to lean on. It was also because the guy her horse was hanging around happened to show up at the border without a pulse, and then pop up a minute and a half later, heartbeat and all, but also because he constantly drank himself into a stupor and was always on some sort of drugs but never mind that he was their leader, or anything.
Whatever. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t looking for him right now. No, Hazel was on her way to find the egotistical bastard that was supposed to live at the outer post. She had even painted him a mural on the inside of his stall when she’d needed to test her paints.
She was rounding the corner of the small stables, pulling the door open and foregoing the fact that if Arion was in here, the door would be open quite a bit more. “Arion,” She cooed softly. “Malum habeo - ”
Having pulled the door open enough to slip inside, Hazel’s bribe fell short at the sight of who was already here: Bastille. Immediately, she wanted to run; but in which direction? Toward him, or away from him? He looked like shit, with pale, clammy skin and shaking bones visible from where she stood. It didn’t take a professional to know that something was up. Concern swamped any sort of growing anger in her stomach. Her hesitation lasted all of a few seconds before the girl made up her mind, swallowing against some of the nerves. She had talked to him a few days ago - she could do this. She could do this.
“Hey,” She said, voice soft and non threatening as she hovered a foot or two away from him. “Deus, Bast, what’d you take? What’d they give you?” It wasn’t a demand - she had a feeling she wouldn’t get an answer out of him. Still, she inched ever closer, undaunted because he needed help. “Hey, let’s get you some water, yeah? Then we’ll have Rin or Rad look you over.” She really didn’t know what she was doing, alright? She didn’t know if water would make it worse, or better. She just knew that blowing up at him right now would be an outright horrible thing to do, even if it was horrendously disappointing and frustrating to find him like this. She gritted her teeth against the thoughts threatening that bubble of anger. “Can you walk?”
In realizing that her friends were hurting, Hazel had been attempting to disappear without actually disappearing. She still made her rounds along the border when a joiner popped up and she still talked to others, she just didn’t go looking for it. She had stopped actively seeking conversation. And...it wasn’t really that hard, either. She’d been locked in her room for days and days back home; this was nothing.
The only key difference between the Ascendants and home was the lock on her door. Here, she had freedom. Here, she had choices. That in it of itself was exciting enough, to be honest. She could pick different places to go and avoid people if she really wanted to. Her favorite places to go were the pebble shoreline (though she stayed far away from the water), the flower fields, and just around the side of the observatory that faced west - she could catch the sunset sometimes if she was lucky. In those quiet, isolated placed, Hazel would untie the bandana from her forearm and run her fingers over the ugly pink scar, thinking about how she needed to tell someone someday and how she was ever going to do that if the people she wanted to tell could hardly look at each other.
But Arion was a different case.
One might think that the young horse would follow her everywhere. They seemed fairly inseparable at the start, anyway. But now? Now Arion followed Octavia - Bastille’s coal-black Arabian. And Hazel had to give it to Arion: she was cute. A real heart-stopper. What she found funny, though, was that Arion would hang around with just about anyone that showed him attention. Octavia hardly gave him a second glance before turning her muzzle in the other direction. Still, Arion trailed after her like a love-struck yearling. It was...downright unnatural, if you caught mii’s reference. The other oddity was that he’d taken to Bastille surprisingly well. Hazel had sort of chalked it up to the boy simply talking in the Thoroughbred’s direction.
Hazel was undoubtedly a bit bitter about it all, and it wasn’t solely because her horse was hanging around someone else when she could really use a shoulder to lean on. It was also because the guy her horse was hanging around happened to show up at the border without a pulse, and then pop up a minute and a half later, heartbeat and all, but also because he constantly drank himself into a stupor and was always on some sort of drugs but never mind that he was their leader, or anything.
Whatever. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t looking for him right now. No, Hazel was on her way to find the egotistical bastard that was supposed to live at the outer post. She had even painted him a mural on the inside of his stall when she’d needed to test her paints.
She was rounding the corner of the small stables, pulling the door open and foregoing the fact that if Arion was in here, the door would be open quite a bit more. “Arion,” She cooed softly. “Malum habeo - ”
Having pulled the door open enough to slip inside, Hazel’s bribe fell short at the sight of who was already here: Bastille. Immediately, she wanted to run; but in which direction? Toward him, or away from him? He looked like shit, with pale, clammy skin and shaking bones visible from where she stood. It didn’t take a professional to know that something was up. Concern swamped any sort of growing anger in her stomach. Her hesitation lasted all of a few seconds before the girl made up her mind, swallowing against some of the nerves. She had talked to him a few days ago - she could do this. She could do this.
“Hey,” She said, voice soft and non threatening as she hovered a foot or two away from him. “Deus, Bast, what’d you take? What’d they give you?” It wasn’t a demand - she had a feeling she wouldn’t get an answer out of him. Still, she inched ever closer, undaunted because he needed help. “Hey, let’s get you some water, yeah? Then we’ll have Rin or Rad look you over.” She really didn’t know what she was doing, alright? She didn’t know if water would make it worse, or better. She just knew that blowing up at him right now would be an outright horrible thing to do, even if it was horrendously disappointing and frustrating to find him like this. She gritted her teeth against the thoughts threatening that bubble of anger. “Can you walk?”
★ — hazel — "speech" — eight months — the ascendants — tags — ★
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WITH EVERY HEARTBEAT I HAVE LEFT
i will defend your every breath; i'll do better