ᵖʳᵒˡᵒᵍᵘᵉ

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⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖


In a landscape wrought with desolate destruction, hints of civilization remain through skeletal spots of exposed architecture. Gleaming in the light of the morning sun everything seems to be covered in a thin sheen of moisture, as if torn asunder by some unforgiving wave. Mist coalesces around rubble and unmoving body—encroaches the area and sends glittering beams of light dancing. In the bleak of blue tinged dawn a dagger lays amidst a puddle of watered down blood.

Wicked steel both thin and sharp makes up the tapered point of the blade itself, while a curved handle made of some sort of pale bleached wood complimented it. Deep in the recesses of the grain lays the evidence of slaughter, brown haphazard flecks coat the base of the handle, a centuries worth of tradition and innocent lives lost. The oceans most treasured gift lies nestled at the end— a blue pearl of the most pristine condition. Flowing away from the gem were wood engravings meant to mimic the very motions of its calling. Some weathered twine was wrapped around the blade as if for better grip.

For a moment only silence accompanies the dreary landscape of sorrow, salt permeates the air filling ones lungs, and drying out the tongue. Then a series of clicks echo out, the sound is rhythmic following a pattern and featuring the sort of cadence found when walking. In a smear of carmine a figure carefully steps around soulless vessels and ruins, she's a direct contrast to the setting of overpowering blue. Flowing hair of valiant red as well as intelligent eyes of orange. Golden hair accessories gently sway in the solemn breeze.

Her tread pauses in that carmine tinged puddle, ripples cascading away from the disruption of her heel and obscuring the visage of that damned knife. She smiles kindly, lips wide and teeth glinting. Forgiveness pours out from her words, amnesty weaves around her tone, and the prospect of life is placed in the crest of her bare unblemished palm. An offering. You take hold of the hand of salvation.


⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖


"Really, already?" Slouching against the rich red upholstery of the booth against the window, a pout curls your expression as you audibly groan in disappointment when your eyes lazily trace after Himeko's trek on the laminated flooring. Feet kicking out subconsciously your heels drag against the matching carpeting scuffing against the material. One finger coming up to gingerly rub at a the end of a drooping leaf which had been encompassing your peripheral vision, you gently press it between forefinger and thumb.

Himeko lets out a simpering giggle her black gloved hand coming to cover her lips as she angled her body to face the puddle of complaining you had become. Eyes narrowing in intrigue she padded froward the crimson underside of her toga catching in the fluorescent lighting of the trains interior.

"Well you knew we would be departing soon didn't you?" Blinking at her reproachfully you refrain from sticking out your tongue childishly.

"Yes I knew that, but I just figured we'd be staying just a bit longer," When you look past the lush shrubbery the surface of Jarilo-VI stares back, the swirling storms of ice and wind now disguising what lies below the planet. Before your eyes lied a plethora of glimmering stars, compacted balls of gas speckling the oil slick black emptiness. Leaning closer towards the window a heavy sigh fogs up the clear pane. Something bitter sunk low within your chest as you looked away.

Himeko stays unnaturally quiet, eyes peering into the vast cosmos, as if seeing some sort of answer you'd never be able to decipher. Corner of her mouth twitching her face swivels onto you, a small hum seeping by.

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