SIX. (
swordproof) wrote in
faderift2018-04-01 08:32 pm
Entry tags:
want a meaning from the back of my broken hand
WHO: Six and Adalia
WHAT: Unaware family bonding!
WHEN: After the return from the Sunless Lands
WHERE: Gallows
NOTES: N/A
WHAT: Unaware family bonding!
WHEN: After the return from the Sunless Lands
WHERE: Gallows
NOTES: N/A
[ Waking up each day without the feeling of warmth in her chest and strength inside of her doesn't get easier. Each morning she kneels at the end of her bed and clutches the amulet of Sarenrae to her chest, hoping and praying that she'll feel something, anything, despite all the information she's been told about the strange changes that overcome people who are brought here through the Rifts. Her Anchor burns in her hand, a constant reminder, and Six can do no more than hope, desperately, that something will come back to her.
Eventually, she makes her way out and wanders to the Gallows; it's a familiar pathway now, especially with all the training she's been doing. It's an easy road to walk with a greatsword strapped to her back and there aren't too many people there to stop her or bother her - she finds a space to cut and train by herself, trying to focus, trying to summon the familiar feeling of her powers, as if she can bring Sarenrae back to her with force of will alone.
It had happened before. It was how she made her Oath to begin with, with tears on her face and mud under her fingers. The thought does no more than make Six push herself even further, bringing her blade down in wide arcs that cut through the dummy before her, slamming down and making her muscles ache. She's burning all her energy, all her strength, trying to find the point of exhaustion where she might feel the flood of divine energy to return Sarenrae to her.
All that she gets is tears as she continues to swing her sword, the sobs coming between each gasping breath, the amulet around her neck moving with the awkward shift of her body time and time again, a constant reminder - of her losses, of her failings, of the ache of a scar across her back that she can never forget. ]

no subject
The very idea leaves her feeling just as lost and alone as she had felt when she had woken up that first morning, remembering the day before, rain prickling down through the clouds. She had fallen asleep next to his grave, her fingers still messy and broken, her back bleeding and all the energy taken from her. All she had was the token of Sarenrae around her neck and the knowledge that she couldn't let this happen again, not to anyone else. She had suffered enough and she had to make sure that no one else felt the same.
It takes her a moment to even register a voice beside her, gasping breaths the only thing that fills her ears. Her hands are trembling as she holds the sword aloft, hesitating before her next swing, barely aware of the fact that tears are rolling down her face. Slowly, carefully, she turns to look over, barely recognising Adalia for who she was. ]
No. I need to keep fighting.
no subject
I don't think fighting is going to help in this situation, Six, ❰ she says gently, reaching slowly for the sword. ❱ Let's put the sword down and we can talk.
no subject
What else will help? [ There's tension thrumming through her, exhaustion and hurt and anger colouring her features, but she stops. ] What else is there?
no subject
Let's just start by breathing together, alright? Here — ❰ she takes six's free hand, gently, bringing it up to press against her chest. her breaths are deep and measured, deliberate. ❱ Match my breathing. Don't think about anything but that.
no subject
The touch to her hand anchors her a little, ironically, feeling the gentle thud of Adalia's heartbeat. She pauses, still taking quick, heavy breaths before she forces herself to calm. ] As you say. [ And she does focus, as best she can, trying to match her breathing with Adalia's slow, even breaths. ]