Guest Star:
Aza-Vela 💙
O, how lovely has this eve been so far. Worry has been put to sleep, perhaps kept at a distance as well. Soft hands shaking ever so mildly are carrying a clay cup to bring the gift of hot remedy to the desired recipient. The lovely doll in rags holding this cup is being careful with her steps so as to not stumble and waste away such a soothing brew. A maiden sitting on the log, eyes on an open scroll, is meant to have the refreshment for body and spirit.
The mild crunching of meddled dirt and twigs perk up the face of the alluring woman. Her attention on the streams of ink has been put into a pause. The strolling form of this beauty in rags accompanied by what is being carried leaves the sitting one to smile. She lightly pats the empty space on her left side to invite the cup-carrier to sit down beside her. The doll obliges but not before stopping and giving the maiden the piping hot gift. The maiden accepts, a thumb lightly stroking the back of one of those shaking hands to comfort her friend who she has been ever so sisterly to for so long.
“Thank you,” confessed the gifted lady, enjoying this soothing spread of warmth in her bare hands. Her voice is as regal as a queen.
“Did you... did you already have one for yourself?”
The doll nods as she sits just a few inches to the left of the scroll-reading, gift-given friend of hers. The sight of the maiden blowing on the hot beverage and soon gently clamping her ruby red lips on the rim of the cup is pleasing to the quiet one. Bluish-green eyes are soon upon what her friend has been occupied with. The other takes notice.
“Oh. Well... I am better understanding these old texts, for you and I,” revealed the maiden, still holding the cup with both hands.
The doll narrows her eyes a bit, unable to comprehend what is inked on the old parchment with much of its bundled roll close to her. She musters to speak, fighting her coyness that has been haunting her ability to be heard properly for so long, even to this very eve.
“W-W-W...... Why?”
Although weak, her voice is quite sweet as if that of a princess who has taken a long break from being a thoroughly-punished plaything.
The maiden takes another hearty drink of the soothing gift. Once done and a delightful sigh has been freed, she secures the cup in her right hand. Her left hand with its fingers, all warm from the once-held vessel, carefully holds up that small chin of her sisterly friend. Her bewitching blue eyes, brilliant as a snowflake, are aiming to bring comfort and clarity to the confused young lady.
“You and I have been arms of the apocalypse for so long, Thea. What we can do so well was tempered with the means to unmake things, to end life. However, it has never been limited to accomplishing those horrid goals. With enough wisdom and leeway on how to go about things, we can also achieve the opposite. And so, my dearest, I humbly ask you this: what if you and I can create rather than just destroy?”
Thea, the doll in rags, gently meets the chin-holding hand of her friend with a loving clasp on its back, the former soon striding up to hold her creamy cheek. Thea’s sealed pink lips squirm as if holding back sadness. But truly, it is a wave of blissful disbelief being suppressed. She takes a deep breath with a great desire to actually free something less vague and more confident. But it would be a whisper, not a loud proud clamor.
“I... I would love that, Aza. I would love to create... finally.”
Aza, the blue-eyed tea-indulging reader, cannot unmake her smile upon Thea. The red-haired sisterly ray of sunshine is irreplaceable, invaluable, inconceivably important to this tormented beauty. Torment, that is something they have shared for too long. Even after their escape from the ungodly regime, the harrowing heyday of being nothing more than tools to bring the worst and be given the worst still haunts her as she knows it still also haunts Thea.
No longer will they have to commit such atrocities and be one on the end of plenty, black and barbaric each act. Aza will not allow herself and Thea to go through all of it again. Their powers to unmake things will be far more disciplined, only to be wielded in the utmost of need. With the scroll on her lap, Aza can perhaps pave the way to a better tomorrow for both of them. Much less of atom collapsing or being rearranged to something terrifying but remodeling something terrific instead. So Aza does sorely hope.
The golden-haired lady frees her hand from uniting with Thea’s cheek and sips on the hot tea again. The eagerness to share this warm wealth with her sister overwhelms her. She must let some of it loose through being the ever-caring elder out of the two of them. She moves her cup-bearing hand closer to Thea.
“P-Please, Thea, have a bit more tea with me. I insist.”
Thea, although hesitant for a few seconds, does not want to be rude towards Aza. She obliges after her doubt is dragged back into the depths of her broken being. Hands soon retrieve what she once gave away. Pink lips open lightly, letting the breeze behind them cool off the steamy surface. The inevitable follows, delighting herself with the tea. The cup soon reaches half-full. Aza waits for Thea to finish, wanting to free the hands of the other. Thea gives the cup back to Aza, sliding herself a bit closer.
“Thank you,” Thea whispered before placing her head to rest on Aza’s left shoulder. Free away a merry sigh.
Aza feels like melting from how doting this beautiful doll next to her is. Even if it would harm her badly in ways no other folk would fathom to go through, Aza will go through hell and back to protect this red-haired angel. She sips on a fair helping before gently leaning the nearest cheek of hers on Thea’s head. Brilliant blue eyes are upon the streams of ink on the parchment.
“You are ever so welcome, my Thea.”
The lovely eve with its peace proceeds.
a n i r o l e p l a y / B r o k e n A n g e l