𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄!

fate does not discriminate between the written & that which has become prophesized to be. however close the flames burn to the priestess born beneath the lunar eclipse, be it blessing or curse that she is to forever see what others cannot, what others never will, she has long since given everything that was herself to anchor the future of septimont. for a world without the dark tide, for a future seamless as it was bright.

she does not speak of that which controls causality, but rather with inclination towards the unknown. this one was not suspected to arrive so soon, but rather, with threads laid out by iuno herself; later in accordance to her plans... but the night does not wait, nor do the endless questions that riddle the people & rays of dancing moonlight itself. slender leg folds over the other behind the table at which she remains seated, a passing glance as the moon's gaze finally wanes & she gestures towards the oracle's cards before her.

solemn melody fills the air, carrying with it the heaviness of regrets still yet attached to a life long beyond them. she remembers only but parting words once spoken to him; having completed the her part of the promise to fulfill his finale, their partnership had thus wilted, like flowers adrift within the realm of the dead. baton lowers as the music is slow to cease, half lidded gaze falling upon him indifferently. the conductor has no intention of composing another score for him, or allowing herself to become yet another dissonate note within one of his own yet unwritten.

she cannot wither, she cannot die. only replay these movements to the crimson finale. she is unafraid of death & harbors no resentment in starting over-for she has done this time & time again.

perhaps her curiosities truly lie within questioning significance itself- what will you grant them? those inconsequential existences of blind will without the anchor of survival? she has only known the complete loss of those she loves, never to see them again.

life to her is a score teetering precariously 'pon achieving the quiet. erasing the clamor of thought so that only then can one truly appreciate the perfect melody echoing through the lycoris sea & the paradise that is soon to arrive...

in a world where each sound is seamlessly shaped by her very hands, the conductor finds no dissonance within immediate reach. alas, a string of crimson notes, much like ‘their’ fate rise to the score's calling, a sound most intriguing to the ears softly flowing as each one falls like the last only to bloom into death's welcoming embrace as a patch of lycoris at her feet. overseer only pauses when the faint sound of footsteps breach her peace, baton held high before drawing close as if to find safety, held staunch against her chest.

muted eyes wander not over the figure accosting him with such claims, but the greyed outline of scenery that befalls all around them. to his side, one of the hunters seems to be partaking in one of her many games-the world is her virtual reality, after all. or so she has sworn by. the other seems to be choosing between the value of different cards held calmly within gloved hand. perhaps gauging if her threads might usher the round in a beneficial direction. he does not know where blade has wandered off to, but elio seems less than satisfied with the current predicament. qiuyuan merely affords the soft, calm edge of a smile, sipping at the porcelain cup lifted to his lips before gently patting at the cushion just beside him.