09-01-2018, 10:57 PM
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BASTILLEPRISONER AURELIUS
BY THE GRACE OF THE FIRE AND THE FLAMES
These days it felt like everyone was dying all around him, and it rang with an ominous familiarity. There was Echo's curse crawling across his skin as he went through the motions on autopilot, forcing himself to accept the loss of Margy and Suite (he knew it was for the better but he could not always hold onto that knowledge or believe in it), followed so promptly by Roy, Moon's injury, Thea getting sick, Oni's fucking issues, and now this. Bastille was fairly certain that he could not turn one way without running into someone slowly deteriorating right in front of him. There was more than just the memories Echo bore pulling at him, however: there was something more, itching under the surface. He felt acutely as if he had been here before, and sometimes he woke up in the middle of the night unable to remember where he was, Hazel's name dying on his tongue.
He couldn't claim to have expected any better, but he could admit that he had let himself hope, a little bit. Convinced himself that he might not bring them all down with him. And here they were.
He hadn't seen Carolina in weeks, had given up searching for her or Wash; they'd likely picked up and took off, possibly to search for their friends, possibly to (unlikely) go home. The sudden flare of her aura in the Observatory was a curiosity, but he didn't get to wonder at it for long before there was an outburst of movement and shouting.
Bast's gaze was cold as it scanned over the situation briefly, his steps only stopping for a moment on the threshold of the wound. He stares at Moon and feels at once incredibly tired, but he keeps coming forward anyways, ignoring his yell for everyone to leave. He agreed, but he also thought Moon needed to leave, too. Which he said, bluntly, [b]"Moon, get out of here; you need to take care of yourself, here."
His attention flickered to Carolina, her terror and fight response washing over him in waves, trickling down his spine. The empath considered for a moment before he was pushing back against her emotions, coaxing them to mellow and soothe to something more calming, the subtle drag of emotional manipulation trying to calm her. "Let me see, Car," he said, voice low and even as he took a step towards her, evidently unconcerned with the prospect of her lashing out. [b]"Okay? It's Bast. You're home."
He couldn't claim to have expected any better, but he could admit that he had let himself hope, a little bit. Convinced himself that he might not bring them all down with him. And here they were.
He hadn't seen Carolina in weeks, had given up searching for her or Wash; they'd likely picked up and took off, possibly to search for their friends, possibly to (unlikely) go home. The sudden flare of her aura in the Observatory was a curiosity, but he didn't get to wonder at it for long before there was an outburst of movement and shouting.
Bast's gaze was cold as it scanned over the situation briefly, his steps only stopping for a moment on the threshold of the wound. He stares at Moon and feels at once incredibly tired, but he keeps coming forward anyways, ignoring his yell for everyone to leave. He agreed, but he also thought Moon needed to leave, too. Which he said, bluntly, [b]"Moon, get out of here; you need to take care of yourself, here."
His attention flickered to Carolina, her terror and fight response washing over him in waves, trickling down his spine. The empath considered for a moment before he was pushing back against her emotions, coaxing them to mellow and soothe to something more calming, the subtle drag of emotional manipulation trying to calm her. "Let me see, Car," he said, voice low and even as he took a step towards her, evidently unconcerned with the prospect of her lashing out. [b]"Okay? It's Bast. You're home."
[B]ASTRAL SERAPH — THE ASCENDANTS — [color=#e2e2e2]TAGS — [color=#e2e2e2]MOODBOARD — [color=#e2e2e2]PLAYLIST
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]