05-05-2018, 04:55 PM
★ WHEN MY HEART IS MADE FROM GOLD AND FORGIVENESS SEEMS TOO BOLD
Though her time in The Ascendants had been short, Hazel felt she had met a fair amount of its inhabitants. It wasn’t a very large clan, but it was growing. At the moment, it’s size of population was...cozy. Comfortable. There wasn’t such an overcrowding that she had no privacy, and at the same time, she didn’t have to walk too terribly far to find someone.
As for the people themselves, it was clear that some of them put on a performance for the sake of sparing others their personal demons. Hazel definitely did - even if she was a terrible actress. She appreciated the polite concern and careful questions some (Margaery) asked. It was never so intrusive that Hazel felt completely vulnerable.
That being said, she was aware that people weren’t always upfront at first. And honestly? That was fine with her. She could handle decent conversation with people’s external persona. It wasn’t as if she had any room for hypocrisy, anyway.
However, some characters were simply puzzles. Bastille happened to be one of those. He didn’t have a “happy face” that he wore when presented with something new. He didn’t tiptoe around things, either. He was vague but straightforward, angry but quiet about it. He seemed like the strong leader archetype, but reluctant to actually take up the role unless it was forced upon him. He acted like he wanted to be friendly, but...there was something there. Some sort of apathy in his eyes that said he was protecting something soft inside. It peaked Hazel’s ultimate interest: she wanted to know what that soft thing was.
It was a stupid curiosity that resembled wanting to touch and hold a live flame. This boy radiated quiet danger that wasn’t quite burning, but simmering. The world and its colors wavered around him like asphalt on a summer day. The danger simmered low, waiting, like a predator waiting to pounce, like the breath of silence after a trigger pull but before the bullet struck. And Deus, Hazel wanted to lay her fingers over the simmering heat so badly.
The girl watched him with vibrant golden eyes, the barest movement pulling her eyebrow into an arch at his words. “Uh, no, not...really.“ Hazel stuck her thumbs into the belt loops on the front of her overalls. She opened her mouth, wanting to say that she’d been in her room trying to move things around so she had a proper space to sleep, but the more she thought about it, the more it sounded like she was bitter about being shoved in a cluttered room. Which, she wasn’t - not by any means.
“All I’ve seen of the territory is what was visible from the fields, so...there was a flower patch, a lake, and...” Hazel paused, teeth grazing over her lower lip and gaze falling to the floor as she thought. “Oh!” She looked up, eyes glittering with intrigue. “And a dark, uh, something, just through the trees over the flowers.” She had wanted to go see what the strange shapes through the trees were, but had been stuck cleaning her room. They were ruins, though she had yet to figure that out.
As for the people themselves, it was clear that some of them put on a performance for the sake of sparing others their personal demons. Hazel definitely did - even if she was a terrible actress. She appreciated the polite concern and careful questions some (Margaery) asked. It was never so intrusive that Hazel felt completely vulnerable.
That being said, she was aware that people weren’t always upfront at first. And honestly? That was fine with her. She could handle decent conversation with people’s external persona. It wasn’t as if she had any room for hypocrisy, anyway.
However, some characters were simply puzzles. Bastille happened to be one of those. He didn’t have a “happy face” that he wore when presented with something new. He didn’t tiptoe around things, either. He was vague but straightforward, angry but quiet about it. He seemed like the strong leader archetype, but reluctant to actually take up the role unless it was forced upon him. He acted like he wanted to be friendly, but...there was something there. Some sort of apathy in his eyes that said he was protecting something soft inside. It peaked Hazel’s ultimate interest: she wanted to know what that soft thing was.
It was a stupid curiosity that resembled wanting to touch and hold a live flame. This boy radiated quiet danger that wasn’t quite burning, but simmering. The world and its colors wavered around him like asphalt on a summer day. The danger simmered low, waiting, like a predator waiting to pounce, like the breath of silence after a trigger pull but before the bullet struck. And Deus, Hazel wanted to lay her fingers over the simmering heat so badly.
The girl watched him with vibrant golden eyes, the barest movement pulling her eyebrow into an arch at his words. “Uh, no, not...really.“ Hazel stuck her thumbs into the belt loops on the front of her overalls. She opened her mouth, wanting to say that she’d been in her room trying to move things around so she had a proper space to sleep, but the more she thought about it, the more it sounded like she was bitter about being shoved in a cluttered room. Which, she wasn’t - not by any means.
“All I’ve seen of the territory is what was visible from the fields, so...there was a flower patch, a lake, and...” Hazel paused, teeth grazing over her lower lip and gaze falling to the floor as she thought. “Oh!” She looked up, eyes glittering with intrigue. “And a dark, uh, something, just through the trees over the flowers.” She had wanted to go see what the strange shapes through the trees were, but had been stuck cleaning her room. They were ruins, though she had yet to figure that out.
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WITH EVERY HEARTBEAT I HAVE LEFT
i will defend your every breath; i'll do better