[Judged] i am no void

[Bexley]

Fight Type: BATTLE
Prize: n/a! just exp
Contact Made: yes!

Character #1: @Bexley
Bonded: n/a
Magic: n/a
Armor: n/a
Weapons: n/a
Current Health: 21
Current Attack: 19
Current Experience: 27

Character #2: @aion
Bonded: n/a
Magic: discipuli frostbite magic
Armor: n/a
Weapons: n/a
Current Health: 10
Current Attack: 10
Current Experience: 16

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MADE A GRAVEYARD FROM THE BONE-WHITE AFTERNOON.

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All this anger and nowhere to put it. For once Bexley feels all herself, and, in conjunction, utterly Machiavellian.

A day and a half walking from Solterra to Ruris, and most of it drenched in wet, stunning sunlight. On each side steps a member of the Day Court regime on their way to Veneror. The eagle’s letter remains strapped to Seraphina’s leg. Eik walks in a slow, self-conscious saunter. Hair braided, headaches blooming in her temple with obnoxious reoccurrence, Bexley follows-the-leader over plains and valleys, sloshing through creeks, their destination naught but a phantasmal monument in the fair distance, and in her heart something stubborn and wild still asks for more.

More, she realizes as it comes into view, lies in the Steppe.

Ah, all her capricious wants, served to her on a silver platter. How long has it been since she felt bone-crunch, tasted salt-iron on her tongue - since she felt really evil, really monstrous, in the manner her heritage has always asked of her?

Long enough.

Bex splits from the rest of the regime, announcing her departure in a low murmur, to find some lonely refuge in the blood-bathed stone. Refuge. A disagreeable word to describe a barbaric place, but Bexley has realized, over time, that violence is discomforting only to those who do not recognize it as intimately as she does - people who don’t see bleached skulls tattooed on the insides of their eyelids, who don’t see their own obsessions on a loop, nothing but blood and blood and replay.

Enviable.

Overhead the sky swirls with insidious dark clouds. If Bexley is Machiavellian, the scene unfolding around her would be the work of Botticelli - winds blowing and flowers crushed to the dirt and light, misty drizzle coming down onto the dry earth - but that gauze of gold-touched rain is too faint to hide the silhouette that stands across the Steppe, a chimeric amalgamation of white and shadow. Bexley draws to a stop. Interest raises her brow. Her blue gaze is fervid - it glows with intent.

For a moment, her heart ceases its bleeding, if only in preparation for the real bleeding to follow.

Fuck the world, huh? Bex drawls, something like laughter tinging her already-indelicate tone. Me too, buddy.

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@aion <3  

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Summary: Bex (in a bad mood as per usual) wanders off from her field trip w/ the regime, sees Aion also being grumpy on the step, teases him just for the #drama

Attack Used: 0
Attack(s) Left: 2
Block Used: 0
Block(s) Left: 1
Item(s) Used: n/a

Response Deadline: 6/17/18
Tags: @aion, @kay, @Sid, @inkbone, @Lauren, @Sparrow