01-05-2021, 09:19 PM
give my all to watch you fall
Hello? The voice calls out back to her through the bleak dark.
Yes, ‘hello.’ Exactly. She wants to respond, wants to be irritated at her own words being parroted back to her. But she knows that voice. She knows, too, that her irritation is not with Aquaria, not really. The low burn sparking like kindling in her chest is self-made and could rage without control if left to grow. Titanya forces a slow inhale of the briny air that rises off the water that is splashing and slipping around her feet. Nerves that feel like live wires slow their frenetic transmissions of emotions like worry and fear. When she exhales, her muscles loosen and the tension between her shoulder blades almost disappears. She is ready to face the darkness and what emerges from its depths with a clearer head and softer tongue.
It is easier than ever, she finds, to quiet the anger that lives alongside the seal of War within her.
“Aquaria,” she names the sea-borne mare as she gets closer. Her voice is steady despite all the potential chaos that exists like a raincloud of unspoken words at the back of her throat. “It’s Titanya. Here, come closer to the shore. It’s marginally easier to see here.” Hopefully not too easy. Is the slight rounding of her belly noticeable yet? Can she angle herself just right to avoid prying eyes and questions? Perhaps this darkness is a blessing in disguise, she muses.
When the Dame moves in, the sabino tries to meet her gaze. Does she know what is happening? Likely not, based on her tentative ‘hello.’ The same need to solve the mystery rises within her. If they are in danger, she wants to make sure her family is safe. Ischia, the land itself, is the least of her concerns.
“It was just an eclipse during the Alliance,” Titanya says, sharing the extent of what she knows. “I can’t imagine why or how it is still lingering.” Her amber eyes shift to take in as much as she can see. The bioluminescent water only stretches out so far before the blackdark closes wholly in. There is an eeriness that permeates everything, too, but this she tries to shrug off only as base instinct rearing its ugly head. She’s no child, and she’s not afraid of the dark.
Yes, ‘hello.’ Exactly. She wants to respond, wants to be irritated at her own words being parroted back to her. But she knows that voice. She knows, too, that her irritation is not with Aquaria, not really. The low burn sparking like kindling in her chest is self-made and could rage without control if left to grow. Titanya forces a slow inhale of the briny air that rises off the water that is splashing and slipping around her feet. Nerves that feel like live wires slow their frenetic transmissions of emotions like worry and fear. When she exhales, her muscles loosen and the tension between her shoulder blades almost disappears. She is ready to face the darkness and what emerges from its depths with a clearer head and softer tongue.
It is easier than ever, she finds, to quiet the anger that lives alongside the seal of War within her.
“Aquaria,” she names the sea-borne mare as she gets closer. Her voice is steady despite all the potential chaos that exists like a raincloud of unspoken words at the back of her throat. “It’s Titanya. Here, come closer to the shore. It’s marginally easier to see here.” Hopefully not too easy. Is the slight rounding of her belly noticeable yet? Can she angle herself just right to avoid prying eyes and questions? Perhaps this darkness is a blessing in disguise, she muses.
When the Dame moves in, the sabino tries to meet her gaze. Does she know what is happening? Likely not, based on her tentative ‘hello.’ The same need to solve the mystery rises within her. If they are in danger, she wants to make sure her family is safe. Ischia, the land itself, is the least of her concerns.
“It was just an eclipse during the Alliance,” Titanya says, sharing the extent of what she knows. “I can’t imagine why or how it is still lingering.” Her amber eyes shift to take in as much as she can see. The bioluminescent water only stretches out so far before the blackdark closes wholly in. There is an eeriness that permeates everything, too, but this she tries to shrug off only as base instinct rearing its ugly head. She’s no child, and she’s not afraid of the dark.
@[Aquaria]