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Thread: [IC] Princess-Champions of Hyperborea

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    Default Re: [IC] Princess-Champions of Hyperborea

    Alina Who Was A Rider smiled through jagged teeth at Alina Who Was Nothing. And she held up this single piece of herself which was all that was left, and she opened her mouth to deny it too and finally be by herself after so, so long. But no matter how she twisted it in her knife hands and no matter how she squinted or turned her head, the argument would not come. She supposes she should have seen this coming, because this shimmering, tiny thing smells like fresh rain and ink paints, and there's only one name she could give it: Love. Not her heart or her desires or her memories, these are things she stole from the world, they could not belong to anybody who could call herself Alina. But this thing was something Alina had given to the world. If there was no Alina, then how could Queen Halcyon smile like that? How could Rita von Catabas have laughed with so much joy? How did a dragon and a traitor Rider, of all things, become so trusted? She had no power to deny these things were true, and so she could not deny Alina Cascade. So she reached out into the darkness and she plucked the pieces she'd stolen, the hair and the heart and the eyes and the grace and everything else, and she put the girl back together who must exist, because of all these people she'd touched said she must.

    Drip. Drip. Drip. Alina's hand feels fragile and painful already. But it feels! And that means it's real. She gasps, and air fills her lungs. She's soaked. She's cold. She's caked in mud. But she's here, in her mother's bedroom in Summerveil and not anywhere else, with her hand clenched tight around a jewel as dark as nothing. Her eyes aren't working right. When they look around, what they see is still indistinct and shadowy. There's a want of darkness and emptiness. She pats her chest with her free hand and feels the glass armor protecting her heart. She runs her fingers through her half soaked hair. She listens to herself gasping for air. All of it is so wonderfully, incredibly real. She's so wonderfully, incredibly solid! She did it. She did it! She wants to laugh, though the sickness of the room makes it sound choked.

    Dimly, she can hear the sounds of fighting. Ugh, moving makes her feel sick. She needs to get out of here. She'd feel better if she could just get out of here. But Rita's fighting Kaja with her lights and... why does her brain feel so slow? She's real, right? Yes, she is. She has to be. She touches her face again, just to make sure.

    [Alina's Sense has been damaged by her unmaking; she's still partway caught in unreality, and this place isn't doing her any favors]
    Last edited by PhoeKun; 2019-06-12 at 02:44 PM.