07-23-2018, 07:13 PM
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i never had nobody touch me like i'm glass
Hazel didn’t deserve the people she had in her life.
For the past couple days, she’d kept to herself — staying in either her room or Arion’s stall. It wasn’t so much wanted isolation as it was necessary; the heavy emotions that plagued her every waking moment triggered unwanted tremors and ruptured rock. When she was outside, it resulted in mysterious precious stones of different color. Most of the time they were embedded in bedrock, surfacing in broken chunks of glinting gems.
Hazel had chalked it up to an emotion-based power, which...sucked, quite frankly. Every time Titanium leered at her cowardice or poked fun at her past, the earth trembled. Fissures split the dirt and fractured like ice. Anger brought on rubies of rich, blood red, while terror brought citrines the color of orange juice. Titanium constantly murmured the names of gems when Hazel’s focus wavered.
What was most stressing was the concept of hurting someone. Any stimulation that pushed her past the breaking point could result in far more than cracks in the earth and colored rocks. So she’d avoided most everyone — Bastille especially. The bond was already a transaction of emotion, and Hazel didn’t really need a landslide of extra feelings. Not to mention Titanium seemed to grow more present whenever she was near him, a constant stream of nonsensical flirtations slipping into Hazel’s brain.
On her third day of successfully avoiding most of the clan, Suiteheart had discovered her in the stables. With her was a ukulele — a new, shiny, untouched ukulele. It wasn’t worn and smooth to the touch, but apparently, it was...hers? Suite had gone and paid a merchant to get Hazel her own ukulele. Which she did not deserve.
For the first twenty minutes, Hazel had undoubtedly cried, smiling through tears for...the first time. She’d handled the instrument reverently, trying not to break it. The strings were taut and wiry with lack of use — it felt like too much pressure could easily snap them. They were as delicate as the string that attached her to the earth. The ground had popped and rolled, jolting under her wave of gratitude and disbelief. No gemstones appeared through the floor, but she didn’t think much of it. Even Titanium was silent.
Now the girl sat against the walls of the bunker, golden sharpie tucked behind her ear as she played with the strings of the ukulele. Doodles and designs were half drawn on the mahogany wood, unfinished. Her hand had started to cramp so she resorted to picking out notes and songs that Suite taught her. She hummed along, toes wiggling against the grass and curls bouncing with the nod of her head. Her mood had improved drastically over the, surfacing in the form of pebbled of fools gold and fractured topaz gems.
Voice raspy and louder than when she usually practiced, she sang along to the twang of her instrument: “Oh, Saturday sun — I met someone out on the west coast. I gotta get back, can’t let this go.” Past worries melted under the sun as she cradled her newest treasure to her chest, fingers rhythmically striking the chords. It was almost a substitute for art, in a sense, giving her that happy high she needed so badly. Forget her anxiety, forget her past and forget Titanium. She could stay like this forever, under the afternoon sun with the wind brushing against her skin like nothing else mattered.
“Oh, Saturday sun — I met someone. Don’t care what it costs, no ray of sunlight’s ever lost.”
ooc what’s that? In need of a human au? good, me too
For the past couple days, she’d kept to herself — staying in either her room or Arion’s stall. It wasn’t so much wanted isolation as it was necessary; the heavy emotions that plagued her every waking moment triggered unwanted tremors and ruptured rock. When she was outside, it resulted in mysterious precious stones of different color. Most of the time they were embedded in bedrock, surfacing in broken chunks of glinting gems.
Hazel had chalked it up to an emotion-based power, which...sucked, quite frankly. Every time Titanium leered at her cowardice or poked fun at her past, the earth trembled. Fissures split the dirt and fractured like ice. Anger brought on rubies of rich, blood red, while terror brought citrines the color of orange juice. Titanium constantly murmured the names of gems when Hazel’s focus wavered.
What was most stressing was the concept of hurting someone. Any stimulation that pushed her past the breaking point could result in far more than cracks in the earth and colored rocks. So she’d avoided most everyone — Bastille especially. The bond was already a transaction of emotion, and Hazel didn’t really need a landslide of extra feelings. Not to mention Titanium seemed to grow more present whenever she was near him, a constant stream of nonsensical flirtations slipping into Hazel’s brain.
On her third day of successfully avoiding most of the clan, Suiteheart had discovered her in the stables. With her was a ukulele — a new, shiny, untouched ukulele. It wasn’t worn and smooth to the touch, but apparently, it was...hers? Suite had gone and paid a merchant to get Hazel her own ukulele. Which she did not deserve.
For the first twenty minutes, Hazel had undoubtedly cried, smiling through tears for...the first time. She’d handled the instrument reverently, trying not to break it. The strings were taut and wiry with lack of use — it felt like too much pressure could easily snap them. They were as delicate as the string that attached her to the earth. The ground had popped and rolled, jolting under her wave of gratitude and disbelief. No gemstones appeared through the floor, but she didn’t think much of it. Even Titanium was silent.
Now the girl sat against the walls of the bunker, golden sharpie tucked behind her ear as she played with the strings of the ukulele. Doodles and designs were half drawn on the mahogany wood, unfinished. Her hand had started to cramp so she resorted to picking out notes and songs that Suite taught her. She hummed along, toes wiggling against the grass and curls bouncing with the nod of her head. Her mood had improved drastically over the, surfacing in the form of pebbled of fools gold and fractured topaz gems.
Voice raspy and louder than when she usually practiced, she sang along to the twang of her instrument: “Oh, Saturday sun — I met someone out on the west coast. I gotta get back, can’t let this go.” Past worries melted under the sun as she cradled her newest treasure to her chest, fingers rhythmically striking the chords. It was almost a substitute for art, in a sense, giving her that happy high she needed so badly. Forget her anxiety, forget her past and forget Titanium. She could stay like this forever, under the afternoon sun with the wind brushing against her skin like nothing else mattered.
“Oh, Saturday sun — I met someone. Don’t care what it costs, no ray of sunlight’s ever lost.”
ooc what’s that? In need of a human au? good, me too
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