The blond seeker moved into her room, silent as she ever was when holding the stack of articles from various locales. She began to sort through them as she stopped near the fireplace. Each page that was deemed unwarrantable of her attention, was simply cast aside from her hands into the fire -- until one headline stopped her and she turned completely still.Â
Eventually, she moved further into the room, through the door and into her bedroom. She turned and stood at the desk in the corner. There, on the wall, were countless articles concerning a certain vigilante as well as news of a man known as the Ribbon Maker. There were once other reasons why the two sets of news were on the wall together. Now, the Viper and Ribbon Maker had something new in common. They were both dead.
M'lissa Keht set the article down onto the table. Her hands were set at either side after removing her visored turban and setting it aside. She continued to read the words over and over again. Was it true? Was it real? Or was this another nightmare that she could wake from? No amount of wishing seemed to wake her. But there were points that she tried to linger on in the text. He was unknown when he should not have been. She tried to hold onto that idea. She tried to find comfort in it -- to tell herself to remain patient and wait before reacting. She tried until her hands turned to fists and inevitably no amount of paced breaths wishful thinking could help what was brewing.
A chair was left in splintered pieces against a nearby bookshelf. The table was upturned and the flowers within the vase were scattered along with the soil, dirtying the floor they landed on. She began to rip the articles one by one from the wall until her hands landed on one article. Brass Blades Assaulted, Prisoner Escapes.
The page was handled far more carefully then, clutched to her chest as she finally relented. She succumbed to the angry, hurt sobs that left her slumped on the floor. "Why...?" she demanded in question. If the article was at all to be believed, which she was determined to think it could not, there was no one left to answer.
Eventually, she moved further into the room, through the door and into her bedroom. She turned and stood at the desk in the corner. There, on the wall, were countless articles concerning a certain vigilante as well as news of a man known as the Ribbon Maker. There were once other reasons why the two sets of news were on the wall together. Now, the Viper and Ribbon Maker had something new in common. They were both dead.
M'lissa Keht set the article down onto the table. Her hands were set at either side after removing her visored turban and setting it aside. She continued to read the words over and over again. Was it true? Was it real? Or was this another nightmare that she could wake from? No amount of wishing seemed to wake her. But there were points that she tried to linger on in the text. He was unknown when he should not have been. She tried to hold onto that idea. She tried to find comfort in it -- to tell herself to remain patient and wait before reacting. She tried until her hands turned to fists and inevitably no amount of paced breaths wishful thinking could help what was brewing.
A chair was left in splintered pieces against a nearby bookshelf. The table was upturned and the flowers within the vase were scattered along with the soil, dirtying the floor they landed on. She began to rip the articles one by one from the wall until her hands landed on one article. Brass Blades Assaulted, Prisoner Escapes.
The page was handled far more carefully then, clutched to her chest as she finally relented. She succumbed to the angry, hurt sobs that left her slumped on the floor. "Why...?" she demanded in question. If the article was at all to be believed, which she was determined to think it could not, there was no one left to answer.
