Unaware of the reaction that her innocent question could have caused in the fellow spirit Elys blinks in uncertainty. Time doesn’t teach her empathy after all and if it does isn’t enough to make a lonely child understand the source of emotion.
One step closer, her red irises move up seemingly making the attempt to show the concern of the white illusion in regards of such ambigous answer and return into a stare to the other along with a slight smile.
“Is that so? And is fun be here?”
"I wonder… If is good belong to sowhere. Yes.“
After all the infinite and as well invisible chain in her heart only makes her spin in an endless tale, no ties to the mortal world but at the same time no freedom to move by her own. Like a broken marionette trying to catch the reflection of the moon on a water’s mirror.
{ ✘♟✘ }
Oh, nervous, nervous, disgustingly so. But nevertheless, she would have to respond to the startling child. But which tone to use? Surely a soft one, a meek one. No one hurt people who used meek voices, never. Only because they weren't afraid, only because they weren’t-
Who was she kidding?
Perhaps, if she talked enough, the girl would leave, if she answered all her questions. Ah, yes, that would be …right.
❝ Ah, um, I guess… ❞
❝ Why do you…wonder? Don’t you have somewhere? ❞
Oh, oh no. She had spewed out the question before, and without thought. As of late, such had been a normality; however, that did not mean it was excusable. She was supposed to be ending a conversation, not continuing one. Ah, ah,this would reflect badly, she could feel the fear starting up again already…
The spirit remains with there puzzled; always with a trace of soft naiveness, print from the old good days in where her reality was intact and not shattered as currently is.
Her white heart changed after walk by the road of humanity but didn’t reached her core. Impure innocence, like the master piece of a mad artist after dying; stained with red drops and ink born from insanity.
The portrait of love and hate; a three colour canvas.
Insensitive at the obvious fear coming from the one in front of her, stares at the figure quietly with those red orbs like scarlet petals of a delicate rose that are in her pale face.
”Your tomb? Do you like here or are you tied to this place, Miss?”
Ah, that curiosity always speaks for her. Yet it can’t be satisfied by simple answers, nor be to serve and explore the infinity of the space does it. Due to almost none human interaction such illusion can’t bond with someone else easily, the living is scary… as well the undead but her truth is closed and no one will see it.
{ ✘♟✘ }
Question strikes embarrassment into maiden’s heart, and the fear is washed away at the reminiscence of her cowardice. Hands shift once again to her uniform, tugging the skirt hem downwards beyond its usual length. Optics begin flickering for an escape to the question, once again setting her enormous amount of pusillanimous character upon a golden pillar for all to see.
Lips begin to form sentences, working their way around the syllables precariously, as if she’s afraid to make a mistake in her quiet phrase. Finally, visage produces sounds of an answer.
Although, not a very good one.
❝ I, um…Yeah. ❞
Despite the answer being only inconclusive and prone to holes within wording, this is all she will give to the small child in front of her. It may not answer the question, but it saves her face and prevents disgust upon the girl’s part. Therefor, answer is given to be the final one, without explanation or complexity that the child so craved.
Whimsical time gaps that leads to uncertainty and at times are able to write a good tale worth to hear. From the deep of that darkness whose singings of melodies similar to a dirge take place in the paleness of her tiny existence; she awakes in the new script that needs a character.
There is someone else, could be a mere coincidence that the other holds an air similar to the Abyss’s child? Blinks a few times, observing her surroundings before move her lips to pronounce a greeting.
Be friendly with others is a detail engraved within her heart, more than politeness is a need. To be loved even a bit in a way, but never will let anyone know that reason.
▬“Hey… um… Hello~! May i ask in where are we?
I can’t recognize this realm at all.”
{ ✘♟✘ }
Muscles long since dissolved stiffen, body tensing in fright.
Endless nights and spent alone with neither friend nor foe to communicate with has wired her hardware for desperation for contact, as well as expectant upon silence but for the sound of her voice. The quiescent doesn’t expect the persona of child to cross her gaze, nor does she enjoy it, for her fear is imminent. As well, neither is such a softly wonderful voice expected so much so that it could be compared to the full moon that now strung it’s gaze overhead.
Still, the spectre does not relax, she merely stares at the girl with optics widened and roseate lips parted. Hands clutch at navy fabrics, eaten away at by insects and flying creatures chipped fingernails ripe with decay creaking. Though, all this is shrouded by illusions prompted by the subject of purpose. She studies for a moment, the child.
And she remembers when she used to dream of stardust, of it driving into her veins and expelling itself from them because it knew it didn’t belong there. She remembers when she used to dream of words, of them stringing themselves through the eyes of countless needles and stabbing themselves into her chest. But then they would fall, to the floor, to the endless black void residing in the cusp of subconscious. It was of no surprise, after all.
There was no stardust strewn through her arteries, and no poetry sewn to her heart.
A sigh coming from tattered organs pushes itself through pink epidermis, legs cross, and she floats above the peak of the wall reminiscence of memories clouding her rotted head.
