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I’ve killed people.
The forest glade was a tranquil place, one she had returned to more than once, now. Though it was winter, much of the Shroud remained verdant, especially since the Calamity. So it was with this place. She sat, white silken cloth draped about her in the loose guise of vestments, and slowly ran her fingers over her harp strings. She could feel the subtle tension of them, the energy… the music. Waiting to come to life, every bit as real as the earth’s pull upon an object held in hand. Potential. Power.
It’s not like I’ve ever lied about it, denied it. Hells, I’ve killed a lot of people. Bad people, good people, whatever.
Soft footsteps made her ear twitch, though no alarm coursed through her. The same footfalls as always, as when they were young. Deliberately, unnecessarily a bit clumsy. So she’d hear him coming. Though perhaps it was more necessary, of late. Her senses were less sharp than when she lived her life in fear… a trade-off well worth it, she thought. Most of the time.
Can’t rightly remember a time when that wasn’t a thing, death. Killing. Murder.
Kian appeared shortly thereafter, emerging as he always did, in front of her. He looked like he could have melded into the woods… yet here, a bright blue feather, and there, a ruby stud on his ear. Obvious things, so she’d see him coming. As though he wanted to be sure not to startle her. Scare her off. Some people would have found that funny, the idea that she could be frightened. He knew her better. Even now.
She was always frightened, at least a little.
Heh, didn’t even know that word, murder. Didn’t exist back home. Murder has a negative connotation, see. Like it’s maybe something you shouldn’t do.
“Hey Star. You look good.†He grinned at her, and she smirked, tail swishing a bit. He laughed, shaking his head, brown gaze still fixed intently upon her. “No, I mean it. There’s something… different. Or maybe not different… maybe, hmm, familiar? Yeah… familiar.â€
Her smirk widened, and she gave a little snort. “Hsst, Kian. Do all Bards talk so much?â€
He laughed again.
“You tell me.â€
Anyroad it’s not like you can change the past. And even if you could, you’d change yourself, and then what would be the point? You’d just be killing the you that you are, and after everything I’ve done to survive, that would be some fucking irony.
Her gaze followed his, down to her harp. It gleamed upon her lap, sturdy, chrome-bright, steel-solid. An instrument designed for battle, made to be slotted onto the complex war bow that had been an instructor’s gift. At the Academy. So long ago, it seemed now. An ostentatious gift, meant to impress a beautiful, hopefully-grateful young woman. She’d shown her gratitude, yes… and the gift served her yet.
Of course there’s more than one way to kill yourself.
Her fingers traced along the frame, the minute and elaborate golden scrollwork. The stylized notes, the celestial imagery. It could have been gaudy but instead was simply lovely, a work of art, gleaming under the dappled sunlight. Her fingers touched the strings… and Kian’s breath caught. Emerald eyes lifted to meet his, finding them slightly narrowed in concentration. Wind breathed through the glade, carrying the myriad sounds of the forest.
You can cut off parts. Feel yourself drain away. Clip your ears, slice your palms. Snip your hamstrings. Pop your eyes. Spike your gut.
Sounds of life, of freedom. Of joy, and cruelty. Of fear and light, of hate and ecstasy. Of innocence. Of death. This was the great forest, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands, and life here was so vibrant that you could taste it, but these truths were everywhere. Everywhere there was life, no matter how noble or terrible it was. Life carried its own rhythm, its beat, a song neither good nor bad, neither right nor wrong. A song that simply was.
You can sever everything you were, and hide and run from it for so long, and for the love of every fucking God and Goddess you spineless bitch let me out LET ME OUT LET ME OUT
Anstarra’s fingers lowered to the strings, and began to play.
…
...
Ahhh.
Yes.
…
Her fingers stilled the strings, and she opened her eyes. It was quiet. Very quiet. The kind of quiet that follows an explosion, or the coughing roar of a great beast. No animals called. No birds chirped.
Even the wind was silent.
Her heartbeat, her breath, felt inordinately loud as she lifted her gaze back to Kian. He met it, though his eyes were wide. Very wide. She knew that look upon him. Her lips twitched, and she licked her lips and swallowed, before finally breathing out a laugh.
“Something familiar?â€
His brows rose even more, and his own laugh was breathless. The same laugh that first time, when she jumped on him, the murderous kitten, the huntress, jumped on him and didn’t kill him. He nodded.
“Yeah. Familiar.â€
He shook his head slowly, and blinked as a bead of sweat got in his eyes. He wiped it off, and sat back, down in the grass, resting his arms on his knees. She remained quiet, still… feeling. That electric tension. That violence. Her breathing still very controlled, letting it all slowly seep out of her..
“I think… you might have something, there.â€
Mmh… yeah. It’ll do.
“Well done… Bard.â€
For now.
The forest glade was a tranquil place, one she had returned to more than once, now. Though it was winter, much of the Shroud remained verdant, especially since the Calamity. So it was with this place. She sat, white silken cloth draped about her in the loose guise of vestments, and slowly ran her fingers over her harp strings. She could feel the subtle tension of them, the energy… the music. Waiting to come to life, every bit as real as the earth’s pull upon an object held in hand. Potential. Power.
It’s not like I’ve ever lied about it, denied it. Hells, I’ve killed a lot of people. Bad people, good people, whatever.
Soft footsteps made her ear twitch, though no alarm coursed through her. The same footfalls as always, as when they were young. Deliberately, unnecessarily a bit clumsy. So she’d hear him coming. Though perhaps it was more necessary, of late. Her senses were less sharp than when she lived her life in fear… a trade-off well worth it, she thought. Most of the time.
Can’t rightly remember a time when that wasn’t a thing, death. Killing. Murder.
Kian appeared shortly thereafter, emerging as he always did, in front of her. He looked like he could have melded into the woods… yet here, a bright blue feather, and there, a ruby stud on his ear. Obvious things, so she’d see him coming. As though he wanted to be sure not to startle her. Scare her off. Some people would have found that funny, the idea that she could be frightened. He knew her better. Even now.
She was always frightened, at least a little.
Heh, didn’t even know that word, murder. Didn’t exist back home. Murder has a negative connotation, see. Like it’s maybe something you shouldn’t do.
“Hey Star. You look good.†He grinned at her, and she smirked, tail swishing a bit. He laughed, shaking his head, brown gaze still fixed intently upon her. “No, I mean it. There’s something… different. Or maybe not different… maybe, hmm, familiar? Yeah… familiar.â€
Her smirk widened, and she gave a little snort. “Hsst, Kian. Do all Bards talk so much?â€
He laughed again.
“You tell me.â€
Anyroad it’s not like you can change the past. And even if you could, you’d change yourself, and then what would be the point? You’d just be killing the you that you are, and after everything I’ve done to survive, that would be some fucking irony.
Her gaze followed his, down to her harp. It gleamed upon her lap, sturdy, chrome-bright, steel-solid. An instrument designed for battle, made to be slotted onto the complex war bow that had been an instructor’s gift. At the Academy. So long ago, it seemed now. An ostentatious gift, meant to impress a beautiful, hopefully-grateful young woman. She’d shown her gratitude, yes… and the gift served her yet.
Of course there’s more than one way to kill yourself.
Her fingers traced along the frame, the minute and elaborate golden scrollwork. The stylized notes, the celestial imagery. It could have been gaudy but instead was simply lovely, a work of art, gleaming under the dappled sunlight. Her fingers touched the strings… and Kian’s breath caught. Emerald eyes lifted to meet his, finding them slightly narrowed in concentration. Wind breathed through the glade, carrying the myriad sounds of the forest.
You can cut off parts. Feel yourself drain away. Clip your ears, slice your palms. Snip your hamstrings. Pop your eyes. Spike your gut.
Sounds of life, of freedom. Of joy, and cruelty. Of fear and light, of hate and ecstasy. Of innocence. Of death. This was the great forest, the Shroud, the Cursed Lands, and life here was so vibrant that you could taste it, but these truths were everywhere. Everywhere there was life, no matter how noble or terrible it was. Life carried its own rhythm, its beat, a song neither good nor bad, neither right nor wrong. A song that simply was.
You can sever everything you were, and hide and run from it for so long, and for the love of every fucking God and Goddess you spineless bitch let me out LET ME OUT LET ME OUT
Anstarra’s fingers lowered to the strings, and began to play.
…
...
Ahhh.
Yes.
…
Her fingers stilled the strings, and she opened her eyes. It was quiet. Very quiet. The kind of quiet that follows an explosion, or the coughing roar of a great beast. No animals called. No birds chirped.
Even the wind was silent.
Her heartbeat, her breath, felt inordinately loud as she lifted her gaze back to Kian. He met it, though his eyes were wide. Very wide. She knew that look upon him. Her lips twitched, and she licked her lips and swallowed, before finally breathing out a laugh.
“Something familiar?â€
His brows rose even more, and his own laugh was breathless. The same laugh that first time, when she jumped on him, the murderous kitten, the huntress, jumped on him and didn’t kill him. He nodded.
“Yeah. Familiar.â€
He shook his head slowly, and blinked as a bead of sweat got in his eyes. He wiped it off, and sat back, down in the grass, resting his arms on his knees. She remained quiet, still… feeling. That electric tension. That violence. Her breathing still very controlled, letting it all slowly seep out of her..
“I think… you might have something, there.â€
Mmh… yeah. It’ll do.
“Well done… Bard.â€
For now.
![[Image: MBLxxyE.gif]](http://i.imgur.com/MBLxxyE.gif)