chezel_

A former council member of Haelun'or cackles at the missive.

A young woman huffs, her brow furrowing. "Okay, but was it burnt toast or a mouse?"

Penelope de Astrea grins. "Glad to be included in the depictions!"

Penelope de Astrea hisses in sympathy. "Well, rest easy."

Seraphite Viradiraar grins, letting out a sharp whistle before her eyes light a soft green, the missive catching fire before quickly becoming ashes. "They put this out, yet I still made council....interesting!" She comments, remembering her points of negative 488.

Any one could ask Seraphite why she had nearly given her life for Tahlia, and any could ask why the Viradiraar protected the 'ame. The answers to those questions? Well, no one, not even Seraphite herself, would be able to answer. Seraphite had put out Malin's Flame for Tahlia, for vengeance- maybe even for some relief. She spoke to the mali'ame after the fall of Ando, and still she took her side, still she protected Tahlia. "Llun, oem'ii." The 'aheral whispers, her gaze shifting to the sun slowly drifting beneath the horizon. "May those dammed Aspects take mercy on you."

"If he was there, you already know what happened to him." Though Seraphite hadn't known Zolvan well, the two only crossing paths from time to time, his death struck her- unlike the many she knew to have happened. As the city fell, the actions from it shaking the ground all stood on, Seraphite knew any who entered would not return. Convincing people of such would be much harder, she came to find. "He's long gone."

A particular mali' watches the events unfold, her face rather stoic as she does, though she makes no comment on something she believed inevitable.

A certain Viradiraar reads the missive over with wide eyes, a smirk slowly donning her face. "Well then." Is all she says, folding up the missive before sliding it in a drawer to keep safe.

With a huff, Penelope de Astrea takes the treaty and pins it on the board in her room, clapping and quietly celebrating to herself at the news.

"That's rather disgusting." Is all a certain Viradiraar mutters, burning the missive.

Penelope de Astrea looks over the missive with a chortle, her head falling into a few nods. "I like this!" She exclaims, smoothing out the paper before pinning it to a board in her room, stepping back to look at it as a grin takes her lips.

Seraphite Viradiraar sighs as she sees the depiction, then hands the missive to her mal'maronn [@SacredSource] with a huff. "Larehan ito kae'leh." She leaves with that, moving to relay the news to her lari'maronn. [@latte]

R! <3

Seraphite Viradiraar found the resignation rather easily, the paper dainty between her fingers. A short huff of laughter leaves her at the words on it, the corners of her eyes becoming crinkled with the smile on her face. "Took you long enough, mal'onn." Seraphite huffs, folding up the paper and sliding it into a drawer to store it for later. "The city is rusting- rusted as I said. No longer silver, but a cheap minic of it. A shell of what it use to be- what it could've, but never was, and never will be."