[OPEN] Hurricane

[Ellyse]

don't you tell me to deny it; i've done wrong and i want to suffer for my sins.

  Her demeanor is an unusual one - emotion is a fickle, useless complication, and so she conceals it with a mask of unyielding indifference as often as possible. Her heart is guarded, fiercely so, and she had made certain to portray herself as anything but passive, though the one emotion that habitually found its way to the surface of an otherwise unshakable façade was pure, unadulterated fury. Ferocious is her temperament, burdening her with the weight of consequence and the consequence of her actions, and inevitably, her biting words. Though she has found a way to wield her ire carefully and to redirect it into something productive, there had been too many times in which it had inexorably exacerbated the magnitude of its repercussions, and too often, it hurt the ones her heart pined for most.

  Yet, with time, she had begun to master it – to manipulate it, to withhold it, though she did not care to most of the time. She loathed the idea of placating anyone by silencing herself; her words were seldom filtered and in her youth, she could not be bothered in most circumstances to hold her tongue. Alas, time had gone on as it inevitably does, and with it she had learned how to manipulate her words, striving to be productive yet blindingly honest. She would not compromise her convictions, but she would not let herself be foolish merely to protect her own delicate ego.

  The sun slowly sets, its radiant light falling beneath the jagged line of foothills on the horizon, illuminating the full, feathery clouds that linger above. The soft cerulean sky is soon alight with magenta, tangerine, and lilac, casting a warm shadow across the plain, highlighting only her sharpest features in the muted light of dusk. Her features hardly change when he flinches away; she had expected nothing less – after all, he had just turned away from her not once, but twice. He could not have predicted her to be so bold (or perhaps reckless?)

  The hardened lines of his face shift and change again, causing the ridge of her brow to furrow, wondering how profoundly frustrating and mysterious he intended to be. If it had been any other time, if it had been anyone else – she would not have stayed. She did not have time nor energy to waste; why was he any different? Her chest ached with the familiar throb of frustration, perplexed as to what about him captivated her – but there was only the dull but quickened pace of her heart in response.

  Just from .. around.

  An eyeroll, and a scowl of skepticism (though partly in jest – her eyes still held the same contented warmth).  ”Surely you do not think I am stupid enough to believe that. But so be it, keep your secret,” she muses. For now. She would not be shaken so easily. ”I was born here – or somewhere near here, at least.”

  A pause.

  ”These lands used to be different. Completely different, actually – but the magic changed, and Beqanna grew angry with us for wielding our power so recklessly. We were all stripped of our abilities, and the land was torn away from us and changed. Where I am from no longer exists.” Her heart aches for a moment; she wondered where her father was. Her sister. Her mother. She had not seem them in far too long. ”Now – now I reside in Tephra, a land to the east, bordering the sea. It is uncomfortably hot, humid, and filled with volcanic ash,” She mutters tersely, and then, ”but it is home.”

Ellyse

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