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i never had nobody touch me like i'm glass
Rubbing messily at her eyes with the heel of her palms, Hazel tried to ignore the itch and discomfort crawling along her skin with the scratch of grit and dirt. Her face was sticky with tears, and her cheeks burned with the shame of someone finding her in such a state of disarray: knees smudged with grass stains, eyes bloodshot and lashes wet. But it was all distant, pushed to a tiny spot on the horizon by the overwhelming amount of utter self loathing that engulfed her body.
Because it didn’t matter that she could make the earth tremble with a twitch of her fingers. It didn’t matter that she could bend the element to her will, because she’d never have the strength to use it against anybody. The concept of calling upon the very substance of the planet to swallow an enemy or crush a rival poured over her with dread, her breath hitching for the moment. She caught herself, trying to find a balance, trying to get to a place where she could open her eyes and see the scars on her arm and not think of a time when kitchen utensils ripped her open.
Not that it was much use. She couldn’t bare to look at herself at all without hearing Titanium’s words scream in her mind, letting her know how well she had it in comparison to the other girl’s life. Hazel curled, pressing her forehead to her knees and wrapping her arms overtop her head, fingers digging into her scalp.
Suddenly the itch under her muscles lessened, the weight on her chest lightening. Footsteps shuffled the grass and a familiar voice rumbled against her ear drums, worried and sleepy. Hazel pried her eyes open, squinting against the sun’s dying rays, trying to make out Bastille’s face. He was asking her a question — if she was okay. Which was a bad question, honestly, because she wasn’t, but.
“Yeah,” Hazel whispered, voice uneven. “Yeah. It’s not a panic attack this time.” You don’t need to baby me. The words went unspoken because, if given, they would sound bitter. She didn’t quite look at him, instead finding comfort in watching his hands. Part of her wanted to reach out and touch him, while the other part knew very well that she was just beyond the capability and mental sensitivity of handling that amount of sensation.
His line on her powers went unacknowledged, the memory of Bast’s own elemental struggles brief and fleeting in her current state. She might’ve said something — could have commented — but then Imperia was approaching, swift and sure-footed, and Hazel...well, she panicked, just a bit. Imperia hardly posed any threat as it was, more or less resembling a forest nymph to Hazel. But it didn’t really matter when her intent was clear. Hazel was scooting back, pushing herself farther from the two before her panic could bubble over into something unrecognizable. The earth fractured underneath her hands, unstable and rumbling.
Then something colorful and jagged scraped her fingertips. She didn’t pause to see what it was, leaving the orange topaz to glint in the sunset, too wrapped up in her own ongoings to notice the precious metal. “Sorry,” She apologized, watching a bit frantically as Bast aimed to grab Imperia and hold her back. “Sorry, sorry — I didn’t mean...sorry,” She spoke fruitlessly, burying her head in the valley of her knees once more. She just needed some sleep, some comfort...then she might be alright.
ooc i love shitty posts at 12:58am that i didn’t proofread
Because it didn’t matter that she could make the earth tremble with a twitch of her fingers. It didn’t matter that she could bend the element to her will, because she’d never have the strength to use it against anybody. The concept of calling upon the very substance of the planet to swallow an enemy or crush a rival poured over her with dread, her breath hitching for the moment. She caught herself, trying to find a balance, trying to get to a place where she could open her eyes and see the scars on her arm and not think of a time when kitchen utensils ripped her open.
Not that it was much use. She couldn’t bare to look at herself at all without hearing Titanium’s words scream in her mind, letting her know how well she had it in comparison to the other girl’s life. Hazel curled, pressing her forehead to her knees and wrapping her arms overtop her head, fingers digging into her scalp.
Suddenly the itch under her muscles lessened, the weight on her chest lightening. Footsteps shuffled the grass and a familiar voice rumbled against her ear drums, worried and sleepy. Hazel pried her eyes open, squinting against the sun’s dying rays, trying to make out Bastille’s face. He was asking her a question — if she was okay. Which was a bad question, honestly, because she wasn’t, but.
“Yeah,” Hazel whispered, voice uneven. “Yeah. It’s not a panic attack this time.” You don’t need to baby me. The words went unspoken because, if given, they would sound bitter. She didn’t quite look at him, instead finding comfort in watching his hands. Part of her wanted to reach out and touch him, while the other part knew very well that she was just beyond the capability and mental sensitivity of handling that amount of sensation.
His line on her powers went unacknowledged, the memory of Bast’s own elemental struggles brief and fleeting in her current state. She might’ve said something — could have commented — but then Imperia was approaching, swift and sure-footed, and Hazel...well, she panicked, just a bit. Imperia hardly posed any threat as it was, more or less resembling a forest nymph to Hazel. But it didn’t really matter when her intent was clear. Hazel was scooting back, pushing herself farther from the two before her panic could bubble over into something unrecognizable. The earth fractured underneath her hands, unstable and rumbling.
Then something colorful and jagged scraped her fingertips. She didn’t pause to see what it was, leaving the orange topaz to glint in the sunset, too wrapped up in her own ongoings to notice the precious metal. “Sorry,” She apologized, watching a bit frantically as Bast aimed to grab Imperia and hold her back. “Sorry, sorry — I didn’t mean...sorry,” She spoke fruitlessly, burying her head in the valley of her knees once more. She just needed some sleep, some comfort...then she might be alright.
ooc i love shitty posts at 12:58am that i didn’t proofread
HAZEL ELISE CAELUM — THE ASCENDANTS — KUIPER CORPORAL — TAGS
© MADI
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WITH EVERY HEARTBEAT I HAVE LEFT
i will defend your every breath; i'll do better