[AW] IMPORTANT - [MEETING] ~ When ages fall.

[Florentine]

i'm a pretty flower girl
check out my pretty flower curls

Florentine wears many wounds. A scar wove its lazy, disjointed way up a slender limb. It was as stark as lightning and as ugly as misfortune could make.  For all her limb glowed, hot and pink, flushed with healing, the Dusk queen stands upon it as if it bore her no pain at all.
 
In silence she stands before them, atop Praistigia cliffs, with the sea that roared behind them, and the citadel stood sentinel at her left side. It watches the proceedings with bleak grey skin and window-eyes dark with knowing. Though her people were likely gathering (as she had so called them) she does not open her eyes to look at them. Rather, her eyes are shut tight, lashes pressed close where her golden hair snags within them. Florentine is wild up here, with a mane thick and free, untamed by wind, untamed by time. In the darkness of her mind she searches, but all she finds are empty boxes, the spaces where memories might once have been.
 
Her eyes open, to look upon the gathering faces, there are some she knows, names given to her since her time in the hospital, but the rest are a mere warmth in her chest. They are memories she cannot reach, friendship she thinks she should know but cannot recall.
 
With a breath, the Dusk Queen (for that is what they say she is) sighs. Her eyes drink in the chaos that the appearance of the gods has brought upon this land. “I thank you all for coming. I understand that, by now, many of you may have known of my accident.” It had been an incident of magic and misfortune – of prehistoric monsters and warriors with skill enough to save her life.
 
“It has left me wounded physically.” And Florentine might then feel eyes upon her limb, upon her left wing that twists and rises upward like a finger reaching for the stars. It was a graceful thing, but it was not natural.
 
“Yet it is the wounds we cannot see that have affected me most.” Then she turns for Asterion and the look she gives him is not that of a sister looking upon a beloved brother. It was of a girl at odds with herself, incapable of remembering even those of her blood, her family, her friends. Her gaze is soft, affectionate, but absent.
 
She takes a breath and says, quite softly, quite simply. “How can I rule when I cannot even remember my family?” A sadness, deep as a lake, opens within her. But it is but a drop compared to the ocean of grief she should have felt – had she not forgotten.
 
“So, I am stepping down as your queen. You need someone who can lead you, who knows what it is to be themselves and therefore what it means to be a Terrastellan. I am appointing Asterion as your sovereign. Forgive my resignation.”
 
With that the Dusk girl retreats, her spot vacant as she looks to Asterion once more. “Long live the King.”

@Asterion
 
((With immediate effect, Asterion is appointed Sovereign of Dusk. I thank you all so much for being so wonderful, time for me is incredibly short right now and I do not wish for Dusk to suffer as a result. It is not fair to any of you. Griff and Asterion have been active and consistent in Dusk and I wish them both the absolute best <3. Love to you all, please keep Dusk as the lovely, wonderful place it is and support Griff and Asterion. Flora and I will still be around here and there when i can manage. Obsi <3))

florentine
rocking your pretty flower world