09-24-2018, 11:20 PM
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HAZEL ELISE CAELUM ★ THE ASCENDANTS ★ COCOA FELINE ★ GOLD EYES ★ IMMORTAL ★ 3 SOULS ★ 11 MONTHS
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Hazel had a knack for death. It was no talent or revered skill, and it certainly wasn't usefull. In fact, this savvy seldom appeared, unless someone was mortally wounded and their time on Earth was limited. She never reached the victim in time, never saved them; was only painfully aware of their imminent end and could do little more than stand back and watch as people fruitlessly tried to save them.
Unfortunately, it wasn't uncommon for this kind of event to grace the Ascendants; and recently, it had happened with someone she'd rather it hadn't. Bastille's "Minutes of Death" act held little amusement in her eyes, as it might've in his. It had only brought her to the cusp of nonexistence, and without his return, Hazel probably wouldn't be standing where she was in the moment. There were other events of that particular day that had affected her nearly as much as his death did, but the fact that she couldn't get it out of her head was unimportant.
Feyre's shriek was what startled Hazel out of her hasty craft of bracelet making. It was ironic: the owner of said shriek was actually the person she was hoping to give the bracelet to, but she supposed it wouldn't be much help if the girl didn't exist. Hazel moved in the direction of the scream immediately, waiting for the icy chill of Death's claws. Fortunately, even as she pushed a body that didn't have the space to be pushed to top speeds, she felt nothing drag along her spine. Relief soaked her veins as much as possible, though the friction of adrenaline hardly allowed it to settle before it was vaporized.
"Feyre?" Hazel called, skidding to a halt around the ruins of the ancient temples. Never mind that she was seeing spots and breathing too heavily, but she'd lost the sound of the young witch's scream. "Feyre - where are you?" Her voice laced with urgency, Hazel picked her way through the ruins. Suddenly a burst of orange flared from around the corner of a temple, and without further thought, Hazel raced towards it, ready to round it and find a young girl mauled or severely wounded. Instead, what she found was...not Fey.
Not the original, anyway. Hazel recognized the aura quickly enough, but the body... "Feyre...?"
[/td][/tr][/table]Unfortunately, it wasn't uncommon for this kind of event to grace the Ascendants; and recently, it had happened with someone she'd rather it hadn't. Bastille's "Minutes of Death" act held little amusement in her eyes, as it might've in his. It had only brought her to the cusp of nonexistence, and without his return, Hazel probably wouldn't be standing where she was in the moment. There were other events of that particular day that had affected her nearly as much as his death did, but the fact that she couldn't get it out of her head was unimportant.
Feyre's shriek was what startled Hazel out of her hasty craft of bracelet making. It was ironic: the owner of said shriek was actually the person she was hoping to give the bracelet to, but she supposed it wouldn't be much help if the girl didn't exist. Hazel moved in the direction of the scream immediately, waiting for the icy chill of Death's claws. Fortunately, even as she pushed a body that didn't have the space to be pushed to top speeds, she felt nothing drag along her spine. Relief soaked her veins as much as possible, though the friction of adrenaline hardly allowed it to settle before it was vaporized.
"Feyre?" Hazel called, skidding to a halt around the ruins of the ancient temples. Never mind that she was seeing spots and breathing too heavily, but she'd lost the sound of the young witch's scream. "Feyre - where are you?" Her voice laced with urgency, Hazel picked her way through the ruins. Suddenly a burst of orange flared from around the corner of a temple, and without further thought, Hazel raced towards it, ready to round it and find a young girl mauled or severely wounded. Instead, what she found was...not Fey.
Not the original, anyway. Hazel recognized the aura quickly enough, but the body... "Feyre...?"
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© MIITHERS
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WITH EVERY HEARTBEAT I HAVE LEFT
i will defend your every breath; i'll do better