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Derelict


Unwillingly
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          A torrent of cold rain falls down onto the veteran as she trudges through the snow in the dead of night— A rain that caused even some of the hardiest animals to take shelter from such conditions. She didn't know why she went in the direction she did, what on Atlas urged her to head there, not even what she should do upon arrival. Yet, there’s some gut feeling calling her there. Leading her, like a desire that has clawed away at her person with nothing but regret.
         Word had quickly spread of her disappearance. 
Have you heard? The princess went missing… They whisper. Some say she stepped down... Others say she was overthrown by her own council. Whenever she visits common towns or cities, she’d usually be met with glares or scowls of those she didn’t even recognize. It hurt more when it was from those who she once called a citizen. Once she had been a proud and straight-spined leader. Now, however, she’d be recognized as nothing more than a pathetic wanderer.

 

          She approaches the hulking walls of the Federation. Vines and moss had grown on it over years, though they're now frozen over and lifeless. Her gaze moves up before she continues, each step only adding a sense of abandonment and a depressing feeling of nostalgia. The gates are left open and the square is empty at this time of night, which seemed to give the city an eerie atmosphere, contrasting with what she remembered it as.

          Stopping, she looks around. Usually, the square is filled with drunken laughs from the tavern or random chatter from the Sutican denizens, but there isn’t now. Silence replaces laughter and talking. Luckily, she wouldn’t need to worry about needing to hide or go unseen— The only chance of her being seen is through the window of a home. After all, there’s nothing suspicious about a hooded figure roaming the streets in the middle of the night, is there?

          She walks the streets, where tiny snowflakes collect on her clothes. Her mind wanders as her gaze remains low. History repeats itself, she thinks. She likes to believe that leading the federation simply comes with misfortune, but another part of her is saying that what happened to her was more than just a coincidence— that it was more than just an accident. Perhaps it was a chance. A chance to start anew. She has started anew, but she's yet to convince herself she's taken the lighter path.
 

 


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          She stops as ice cracks under her boots, looking at the home which she once lived so happily in. She stands face to face with the frozen door as if expecting a familiar face to step out and greet her, but he doesn’t. Instead, the door stares back at her just as she stares at it, completely static.

          Soon, she lifts a hand and grips the frozen handle of the door, turning it. Ice cracks off and falls as the door lets out a squeak something akin to a screaming piglet. She steps in slowly, leading a small trail of snow in after herself. The room is dank and dusty. It’s clear that the furniture within had not been moved or even touched in a very, very long time. The mere smell of the room nearly made her recoil, but she moves deeper into the room regardless.

          She heads upstairs, quite reluctant to lift her eyes and look around  in fear of memories she'd recall in this very room. She focuses on the patterns of the stone floor briefly before lifting her head, observing the room. It was just as expected, yet completely untouched.

          The first thing she noticed was the bed. Even the covers and blankets remained in the same spot they had been in since she had last slept there— Alone, that is. The windows are cracked and scratched but are otherwise unbroken while the nearby furniture and tables collect dust and dead insects. After a moment of inspecting the area, she looks to the nearby bed.

          “Atlas…” she mumbles to herself, stepping forth as she looks down to the bed. Something crawls beneath the dusty blankets, so she slowly reaches down and yanks them up. Two field mice stare up at her momentarily before skittering away, leaving her alone once more.

          She kicks off her boots and removes the heavy coat she wore, dropping it on the floor carelessly. She goes to hesitantly lay down in the bed, moving to her side on the left near the wall. The bed creaks harshly as she does such.

          She sneezed almost every minute or two as her nose became increasingly itchy due to the amount of dust in the room, but her eyes soon grew heavy enough to shut. Despite this, she remained awake for quite some time, listening to the chill of the wind and skittering of mice.
          She stares at the empty spot beside herself, trying to remember the face that once stared back at her, but can hardly move her thoughts away from who used to occupy the space. She pretends that he stares back at her, but he doesn’t.

 


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The mice will have to accompany her tonight.

 

Spoiler

ok hi i was really nervous to post this, but i guess I thought it would be good writing practice, got some feedback from a few people on it :)) feel  free to write an RP response to this !! It's basically a one-shot of cyrene visiting her old home in sutica and mourning the loss of her old hubby, dael'ran ? anyways, hope you enjoyed!!

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((Typing off my phone, sorry)) 

Theodora remains awake in the dead of night, reading from one of the many books that kept her company. The citizen glances out the window, her home lit by the light of a warm fire. Upon the sight of the hooded figure she’d shut the drapes that hung from the windowsill. After all, what good could a stranger in the dark bring?

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A particular 'Ker looks over an old map of Sutica. "Perhaps I'll visit." He mumbles to himself, barely audible. He then quickly thought better of it. Retaking his seat at his desk, he tried to continue to write in his journal, yet the words that had come so easily to him prior, seemingly had disapatted into fragments of abstract thought. His hands wandered to the mess of a table he sat at. A sketchbook, a knife, several letters, and a whole slew of papers. Perhaps feeling nostalgic, he reached to a dusty drawer, and withdrew an old Cerulean Watch Codex. He then began to read.

 

((good work, enjoyed the writing))

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A new figure glanced through town to town before reaching his home again. Sutica.

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Utaria crawled up into a window of the library, calling back to her wife and daugther to join her. Casting a glance back and down towards the square, she’d notice a hooded figure. She’d mumble “What crazy bastard is out in this weather?”

 

((This was a sick read!

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