07-25-2018, 03:18 PM
For Versailles, her memories are enough of a vision to ground her and hurt her and cut her binds all at once. She has no souls, no facets, nothing except the brooding entity that sparks occasional fires and misfires within her body, living and reliving what only past she has. She's noticed things have gotten rather odd as of late, memories of her mother resurfacing more and more when she'd once promised she would move on and forget - a promise she has clearly broken after all the nostalgia. She wonders if mother is looking down on her.
She can't help it - the smallest sounds keep reminding her of home, of better times or worse times, of mother and daughter against the world. Mother had raised her to be a warrior, hard of heart and strong of soul; mother had raised her to look at the world with narrowed eyes, looking for the best way to survive when they were not the largest predator in the forest. Versailles, be nimble. Versailles, be quick. Don't talk. Don't speak. Don't look.
Don't look.
That had been the last she heard of mother, running away from tragedy - it changes every time she tries to remember. It's a fire licking at her heels. It's water rushing to pull her back into the deep. It's stones tumbling down from overhead. It's a tree falling, falling to her death. It's the ground giving way from under her weight. It's ice splintering beneath her paws. It's hungry growls and angry groans and flesh ripping from bone. She can't remember which it is -
All she can remember is a last goodbye, an air-splitting cry, sobbing failure and desperation and self-sacrifice. All she can remember is the sound of her young pawsteps taking her as far away from the bloodshed as possible, then silence. The period after that, she'd spent traveling alone, finding ways to survive in the wilds without her mother's guidance. Even then, she'd broken her promise. When Versailles first came to the Ascendants, she'd promised she wouldn't need to remember mother, especially when she had met Bast - she thought she could push away her past and look forward like mother always wanted her to.
Instead, everything that has happened thus far had only made her remember more. Versailles wonders if it's a burden, a curse for leaving her mother behind when she should've broken that rule the first time she ever heard it - she should've turned back, should've stood her ground. Maybe then, they'd either both be alive... or dead.
She lets this thought jog through her head for the umpteenth time - she's always thinking, always wondering, always deep inside of her head that she doesn't even notice Bastille or Myliu until she hears the younger Ascendant's voice gently chiming in the air. Her golden gaze rises from where it had been watching the ground to land on both - to focus on her brother, Bast - does she have any right to call him that? Through thickening guilt, she wonders if she should even acknowledge the connection between them if that same connection doesn't feel... strong. These people, these Ascendants, they know him better than she does. She doesn't have the right, the history, the -
"Bast." Coward. She pushes the question to the back of her head and makes her approach, opposite of Myliu. She's already had a bad impression with the young guy once, and it's enough to shoo her back into her hole. For a moment, she stands and stares at Bast, stares at who she can see, and the air feels bitter with things left unspoken and unsaid. There's still so much tension between them, so much tension that Versailles can almost see it flickering in the air like embers. She thinks she's supposed to know him, she's supposed to be the one who knows him most - but she doesn't, and that's the end of that argument.
In the end, she parts her jaws to try and say something, closes them again, repeats the motion a few more times as she tries so desperately to come up with something to say... but instead, she finds herself retreating back into the shadowy corner of her brain, too afraid to take one step forward when she doesn't even know if it will take her anywhere. Instead, she sits down and offers him a shrug of her shoulder, head hung and eyes low. "Hi."
She can't help it - the smallest sounds keep reminding her of home, of better times or worse times, of mother and daughter against the world. Mother had raised her to be a warrior, hard of heart and strong of soul; mother had raised her to look at the world with narrowed eyes, looking for the best way to survive when they were not the largest predator in the forest. Versailles, be nimble. Versailles, be quick. Don't talk. Don't speak. Don't look.
Don't look.
That had been the last she heard of mother, running away from tragedy - it changes every time she tries to remember. It's a fire licking at her heels. It's water rushing to pull her back into the deep. It's stones tumbling down from overhead. It's a tree falling, falling to her death. It's the ground giving way from under her weight. It's ice splintering beneath her paws. It's hungry growls and angry groans and flesh ripping from bone. She can't remember which it is -
All she can remember is a last goodbye, an air-splitting cry, sobbing failure and desperation and self-sacrifice. All she can remember is the sound of her young pawsteps taking her as far away from the bloodshed as possible, then silence. The period after that, she'd spent traveling alone, finding ways to survive in the wilds without her mother's guidance. Even then, she'd broken her promise. When Versailles first came to the Ascendants, she'd promised she wouldn't need to remember mother, especially when she had met Bast - she thought she could push away her past and look forward like mother always wanted her to.
Instead, everything that has happened thus far had only made her remember more. Versailles wonders if it's a burden, a curse for leaving her mother behind when she should've broken that rule the first time she ever heard it - she should've turned back, should've stood her ground. Maybe then, they'd either both be alive... or dead.
She lets this thought jog through her head for the umpteenth time - she's always thinking, always wondering, always deep inside of her head that she doesn't even notice Bastille or Myliu until she hears the younger Ascendant's voice gently chiming in the air. Her golden gaze rises from where it had been watching the ground to land on both - to focus on her brother, Bast - does she have any right to call him that? Through thickening guilt, she wonders if she should even acknowledge the connection between them if that same connection doesn't feel... strong. These people, these Ascendants, they know him better than she does. She doesn't have the right, the history, the -
"Bast." Coward. She pushes the question to the back of her head and makes her approach, opposite of Myliu. She's already had a bad impression with the young guy once, and it's enough to shoo her back into her hole. For a moment, she stands and stares at Bast, stares at who she can see, and the air feels bitter with things left unspoken and unsaid. There's still so much tension between them, so much tension that Versailles can almost see it flickering in the air like embers. She thinks she's supposed to know him, she's supposed to be the one who knows him most - but she doesn't, and that's the end of that argument.
In the end, she parts her jaws to try and say something, closes them again, repeats the motion a few more times as she tries so desperately to come up with something to say... but instead, she finds herself retreating back into the shadowy corner of her brain, too afraid to take one step forward when she doesn't even know if it will take her anywhere. Instead, she sits down and offers him a shrug of her shoulder, head hung and eyes low. "Hi."