IN THE WAKE OF SATURDAY ; open, ooc prompt

[Suiteheart]

[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 530px; min-height: 9px; font-family:; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; padding: 20px"]So much had happened over the course of a few days. She had been transformed into a polar bear. The bond between she and her wife was reborn. She had gotten into a verbal argument with Roy and Maes in front of all of the Ascendants.

What else?

Oh, yeah! She finally came clean about her past and her identity to everyone. Wow, that had been one of her greatest fuck-ups, hadn't it? Out on patrol only to slip on rocks and mess her locket up. Pictures of her family and wife took to the wind. Her secret was out before she could even process what had happened.

Would she do reverse things if she could? Truthfully, no. For so long, the guilt had been eating her from the inside out. Despite disliking coming clean to everyone, it did make her feel lighter than before. And she supposed the fact that everyone still loved and accepted her helped.

These thoughts swirled around in her head as she sat in the Observatory, looking at her locket. She had fixed it with the help of Hazel. A deep scratch decorated the back of the heart-shaped piece of jewelry (somewhat ironic given everyone she'd been through with her wife), but it was okay. The most important thing was that she had salvaged her most prized possession. 

[BASTILLEPAW]

[div style="background-color: white; width: 100%; font-family: Georgia; color: #576a6e; text-align: center; margin: auto"]WALKING STORM™
angstendants — #demotebast2k18 — rapsheet

[div style="line-height: 110%; word-wrap: break-word; text-align: justify; color: black; padding-top: 10px; font-family: Georgia; text-size: 6pt"]
How was Bastille's week going? Not great, frankly. He felt wonderful after getting some damn sleep for the first time in days, devoid of headaches and pent up energy, so ironically he actually seemed to be in a slightly better mood. However, there was the minor issue of bringing down mass chaos and evidently having little to no control over his powers once they started to get out of hand. That was a bit of a downer. He was doing his best to ignore the issue, frankly, but that was sort of difficult to do when random storms and earthquakes seemed to follow him at will. Yesterday he'd created a mini tornado on a patrol, and it had literally followed him the entire way. This shit was getting ridiculous.

This time, there was no gust of wind to mark his arrival; instead, the ground started shake very, very slightly. It was only a baby earthquake, not quite the menace that had shook the entire observatory a few days ago, but Bast still looked a little sour when he felt it. Deciding to try to ignore it into nonexistence, he settled beside Suite and studied the locket. "You fixed it," he pointed out by way of greeting, noting that after another few moments of ominous rumbling, the earthquake slowly subsided.

[Margaery]

[color=#b14767]"You fixed it?" Margaery echoed softly, the next to arrive. She gazed between the pair thoughtfully before taking a seat near Bastillepaw, her stormy blue eyes now fixated on the locket. When the thing had broken, Margaery had been devastated. The gift, while so incredibly small, had been an extension of her very love towards her wife and to see it resemble nothing more than trash had hurt her. Greatly. She supposed she was glad that it had been repaired but she knew that it would never be the same again-  not with that deep scratch marring it's once beautiful, silver surface.

The chocolate point admittedly didn't know why she was here. Every one of her nerves were on high alert and she was resisting the burning desire to distance herself not from Suiteheart, but the bear that she occupied. Through their bond, she was certain that her wife could feel her distress just as she had hers. Before everything had gone to hell, their connection had been good, now, it only magnified the awkwardness of their relationship as Margaery dedicated her very existence to running from Suite. [color=#b14767]"Who fixed it?" She inquired almost skeptically, dismissing her thoughts to steal a glance at the polar bear's large claws. Surely they lacked the nimble ability to salvage the piece of broken jewelry... then who did Suite enlist in to repair the thing? [color=#b14767]"And the pictures?"

[Suiteheart]

[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 530px; min-height: 9px; font-family:; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; padding: 20px"]Dark eyes lifted from her silver locket as Bastillepaw arrived, a small earthquake following at his heels. The look on his face said it all, and a frown decorated her own features at his gloominess. She wished she knew how to control elemental abilities, but she didn't even know how to control her own powers. Ugh, helplessness was the worst emotion in the word.

Suiteheart gave a nod of her head at his words. "Yeah. Turns out, it wasn't so difficult. I'm just... not very good at fixing stuff," she laughed, but her words were true. She had never been good at repairing anything despite how hard she tried.

When Margaery arrived, Suite almost sank into herself. She could feel everything, and it made her sick to her stomach. She wanted her wife to love and accept her, but that was too great of a task. Still, despite never wanting to be angry with her lover for this, a small spark was trying to ignite. She bit it back though, still able to control the feral thoughts that often plagued her mind. 'Not this time.'

"Haze helped me fix it," she explained, holding the locket out toward Margaery. It was almost as good as new, minus the scratch. Still, if she could just find some polish or something maybe... well, maybe she could cover it up. But that was much easier said than done. "And the pictures are inside. Me, you, and the kids. Right where they're supposed to be." In her metaphorical heart. Always there, just like the real thing.

She watched Margaery's stormy eyes for a few fleeting seconds before returning them to the ground, the sky, the walls, anything but the chocolate point. She couldn't look upon her wife without feeling guilt and sadness. It hurt. Everything about it hurt. She knew Margy would eventually feel these emotions if she searched long enough, but there was no point in hiding them.

[★ HAZEL]

★  WHEN MY HEART IS MADE FROM GOLD AND FORGIVENESS SEEMS TOO BOLD

Luckily, Hazel showed up after the mini earthquake, despite the fact that the smallest of tremors could probably be felt out towards the flower patch. She’d spotted Suite and Margy - well, no, scratch that. She spotted Suite, because a massive white fluffy bear was hard to miss, and her attention had next fallen to Margaery, and then a sulking Bastille (but...what else was new, apparently).

Trotting over to the group, Hazel either took immediate notice of the sixteen different kinds of emotional tension swirling around the three and decided to ignore it, or she was oblivious. In this case, her steps slowed just the slightest bit in their approach, her heart skittering in its place. Teeth grazing her bottom lip, Hazel sat down, turning her attention to the minimal conversation taking place.

Oh! The locket! Hazel’s head lifted a bit, her ears perked. “I hope it’s alright,” She said, anxiety tingeing her tone. It was clearly a very valued object, and Hazel would be distraught if she’d managed to screw it up somehow. “We couldn’t find a way to get rid of the scratch, but everything else is good as new. There’s no damage to the pictures, either. We took them out beforehand just in case something happened, but it didn't, so...they're still there.” Her gaze flicked from the locket to Margaery, sensing the nerves rolling off her in waves. Maybe conversation would be a welcome distraction.

★ — hazel — "speech" — six months — the ascendants — tags — ★
c) miithers

[Character Graveyard.]

LUNAFREYA N.F.

✯ — take these broken wings and learn to fly

space

The previous week had been okay for Luna. She had felt stressed from being captured by Beck but that stress was slowly going away. The female found herself approaching a few of her fellow Clanmates and she decided to silently take a seat.

space

✯ — Luna. The Ascedants. Easy. — ✯

#psychosocial.

[Margaery]

Margaery was selfish. Deep down, she knew that Suiteheart lacked the ability to control what had happened to her and yet, the chocolate point still continued to blame her, allowing her own fear towards bears to project on the being that was supposed to be her wife. She wondered, vaguely, if Suite knew of her childish behavior and simply chose to ignore it. That wouldn't surprise her... Suiteheart had always been the better person - though she'd never admit it - and would gladly allow Margaery to act as she pleased if it meant that she resembled anything close to content.

The truth of the matter was that Margaery was far from content and sitting here, gazing between her wife, the locket, and her clanmates, she realized what she needed to do. Darling, I'm sorry, She sent down the bond, an apologetic expression touching her lips. And then, she raised her mental walls and cut off her side of the connection. She didn't want Suiteheart to continue feeling her turmoil of emotions, her pain, her trauma. Her wife had too many battles of her own to fight and Marg was only succeeding in hurting her, not helping her. This would be for the best, she decided.

[color=#b14767]"Hazel did a fantastic job," She offered faintly, behaving as if she had not just isolated herself from the one creature that knew her best, [color=#b14767]"Thank you." Her last statement was directed in the direction of the younger girl, an appreciative smile present upon her lips. [color=#b14767]"I hung up some pictures of us myself the other day," She continued, hating herself for behaving so nonchalant in the face of the atrocity that she just committed. You're awful, Margaery... absolutely awful. Perhaps you two should have stayed apart, Some twisted part of her whispered, causing her to visibly flinch.

If she had the same handle of control on this as she did her vampirism, her walls wouldn't stay up long... but at least the lack of foreign emotion would hopefully give Suite some room to breathe.

[Suiteheart]

[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 530px; min-height: 9px; font-family:; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; padding: 20px"]"Alright?" she echoed Hazel, arching a nonexistent eyebrow. "Kiddo, you did more than alright. It's perfect. You're awesome." A smile curved her lips as she spoke. She had always enjoyed Hazel's company, and now that she had fixed her most precious treasure, she loved Hazel even more (if that were even possible). The large polar bear sat and admired the locket, happiness swirling around her despite Margaery's emotions looming heavily against her own.

Lunafreya arrived shortly thereafter, and Suiteheart nodded a greeting to the serval. She noted her co-workers silence, wondering if something was wrong. Luna had never been the most talkative, but complete silence was usually unheard of. She opened her mouth to say something, but quickly closed it as she felt something terrible.

Darling, I'm sorry.

Suiteheart froze. She held her breath, unsure of what was happening, and when it did, it felt like she would never breathe again. The sadness and worry, the fear and disgust, the love and the loss - it was all gone. Something deep within her broke, no, shattered. Before the walls rose completely, a small, pleading message found its way to Margaery: Please, don't. I love you. And then, there was nothing. She felt cold, hollow. A hitched breath escaped her, and it took every fiber of her being to hold back the storm swirling in her mind and heart.

Everything that she had been working so hard for... gone, gone, gone. She could not force herself to look at Margaery, for she knew she would cry. The one she loved most had just isolated herself without reason, and it was impossible to describe the loss she felt.

Margaery's voice reached her when she spoke aloud, but Suiteheart could not make out the words. Her dark eyes had gained a faraway look, but she saw nothing. Her gaze was as hollow as her chest felt. After a few fleeting heartbeats, she regained her voice, but it was strained and barely audible. [color=#73B1B7][b]"What...? I'm sorry, I didn't - I didn't hear you."

[BASTILLEPAW]

[div style="background-color: white; width: 100%; font-family: Georgia; color: #576a6e; text-align: center; margin: auto"]WALKING STORM™
angstendants — #demotebast2k18 — rapsheet

[div style="line-height: 110%; word-wrap: break-word; text-align: justify; color: black; padding-top: 10px; font-family: Georgia; text-size: 6pt"]
Bastille smiled slightly at Suite's response, but then Margy was arriving and he could already sense the corresponding shifts in both of their auras. Thankfully, things were not too tense quite yet -- Bastille had a feeling he'd start tensing up himself out of awkwardness, or frustration for lack of ability to help them, or from pure empathy alone, maybe. He hated seeing them this out of sorts, and it was lowkey driving him crazy that he couldn't do anything about their suffering, but focusing on that was only going to set him off. These days, setting him off usual resulted in storms, so he would rather avoid that situation.

Hazel's name was a welcome distraction -- interesting, that they both seemed familiar with her. Of course, Suite and Margy were generally pretty fucking welcoming, and he wasn't surprised that they'd encountered the golden girl yet. It felt vaguely strange that he didn't know about it, though he wasn't sure why -- was he offended Hazel hadn't mentioned it, or distraught that his... friends were making more friends in secret? Neither were situations that ever would have bothered him before, and for a brief moment Bastille had a fucking internal crisis. Why did he even care?

There was Hazel a moment later, however, and he watched her as she spoke up until he felt the shift in Margy's aura beside him. He couldn't quite describe it, but there was something changing, warping, and his gaze flashed to her in vague concern before Suite let off a pulse of pain so vivid that he didn't even have to look at her to sense it. Alarmed, he looked at her in concern, expecting to see blood, but there was nothing. "Suite," he said, without thinking, before his thoughts caught up with him and he realized that he had literally nothing to base his concern on other than the agony that was rolling off of her in waves. At a lost, he suddenly pushed at her with telepathy, experimentally nudging up at her thoughts with a sudden, Suite, what was that?

His gaze flickered to Margy, but he was starting to feel that same helplessness, and the ground started to subtly shake once more as he glanced between them. Briefly, his stare went to Hazel, and then just stopped there as he tried to focus instead on preventing the earthquake from getting any more aggressive.

[Suiteheart]

[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 530px; min-height: 9px; font-family:; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; padding: 20px"]"Suite."

Bastillepaw's voice slowly filtered toward her, but it sounded so faraway. It was like her mind and body were in two separate places, and she could not make them reconnect. It took ages for his voice to finally register in her head, and the only response she offered him was a slow blink. Words failed her after she had asked Margaery a question, and try as she might, she could not force sentences forward. She was at a complete and utter loss for words.

But good thing her mind was still adequate.

Bastille's telepathic message reached her at once, and somehow, it managed to rope her back in. Everything came together again, and she wasn't sure if that was a good thing. She didn't feel any better either, just increasingly hollow. Numb.

She's gone, Bast.

Simple. Cryptic. It made no sense as Margaery was still amongst the group. The chocolate point was still standing, and she betrayed no emotions. It was as if separating the bond had been as easy a closing the room to her door before she slept for the night. Something about how easy it was angered Suite. Did their relationship not mean more to her? Oh, if only Suite knew Margaery had done it to try and protect the former.

[color=#73B1B7][b][i]She's gone. She separated our bond. I can't feel her... And she doesn't care anymore.