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@ftxruby

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{ + } aaronxlee, grim-kris, jongfe
The female leaned over the counter just a little bit to survey the dining area, a chin on her palm. The hours of the day were passing by and it was nearing closing time for the bakery--she noted this after having watched the windows filter light and then disappear into the darkness. It was fortunate that Red didn't have to do any deliveries after her shift since it was her day off, but it did make waiting for the last customer to leave rather... mundane.
When the last of her co-workers had left, her smile bid them goodbye before she returned to her duties. Her hands worked to put things back in their places and lock some things in the back rooms. However, those tasks were sooner done than expected and the girl took a glance at the clock. Fifteen minutes until closing time, and the customer stilled looked to be taking their time at the small table. Red walked over there after taking a breath and reciting the lines her supervisor had once told her in her head, that she was not to try and be too brash or impatient with customers or else they would be driven away and angry.
"Excuse me, we'll be closing in about fifteen minutes," she spoke, and the person nodded before gathering their stuff and leaving with an apologetic smile. Perfect.
As the store was about to be closed so Red could finish storing everything, somebody had stumbled into the room, snow clinging onto their clothing but melting onto the floor. With a swallow, she silently debated over what to do before quickly going behind the counter to get some paper towels in hopes that they'll help dry the new person off.
"Uh... are you all right?" The huntress asked slowly.
( apologies for disappearing; i had exams ~ ~ sends out messajis )
The woman had been blessed with a fantastic opportunity to learn more about being a nurse and about how treat the many kinds of patients. Them being children, adults, teenagers and older people. She had a certain fondness for the last kind of people who would talk to her about their lives and routines. Many doctors and other hospitalâs employees would turn annoyed and bored with those same stories, but not her. There she saw a chance to meet people and know they worked, how their mind worked. And, that for her was one of the main causes why she accepted to be a trainee nurse in one of Seoulâs most known hospital.Â
"Ruby Yang?" With a smile on her lips, the female entered the small room and closed the door behind her so no other patient, doctor or nurse would disturb them. Her dark long hair was the first thing that caught the nurseâs attention, right after that were her girly and childish features. In short, her cuteness. "What brings you here, miss Yang? Tell me about it."
More irritated than anything at the situation, Red had to remind herself that the more she complied, the more likely she would get out of here as soon as possible. Time was money--she was wasting time here waiting, hence she was wasting money. If one of her bosses hadn't sent her here, she would be perfectly all right and working. All the female could really think about was the rent that would be due soon for her shabby apartment. While it would've been okay to remain homeless in the Homelands, it didn't seem very normal here. There were too many... Laws, regulations, societal values that stopped her from just giving up on this mundane society here and now.
"Yeah, you got me. I got sent here for having cold symptoms, so I wasn't able to work," the huntress offered a smile toward the other woman before the edge her lip twitched a bit. The one that had just entered wasn't human, that much was obvious; but she wasn't a Fable either, which made Red wonder who she had in the room with her. Her instinct told her to put her guard up despite the other's apparent friendliness--for all she knew, it could very well be a facade. Before she could reel herself in, the words had already left her lips, though not loud enough to penetrate the white walls. "You're not human, are you? At least not human like those mundies--not full human."
...all these mundies make me homesick.

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          â I can only see the world in shades of scarlet.                And after spending the night in the wolf's trap,                                 The echo of the moon rings loudly in my ears.
little red riding hood or ruby yang ; â˝ â˝ â˝ â˝ ; reblog/like/follow
â ďź hail the queen ďź â¤ ftxvictoriaâ˘
The Hesse was fortunately not too far from Un Fabuliste, which was where Red resided for the time being, but it was the onslaught of winter that made her journey far more perilous than it should have been.
She braved herself through the falling snow, though, her companion steed by her side as they walked the blanketed fields. It was far too cold to make the animal carry her through the lands, and her only goal was to find warm shelter for the night. As the horse gave a neigh, Red reached out to rub a hand across his neck--it really was getting too cold. Once they had arrived in a small town and found themselves in a cozy inn and stable, the pair rested for the night.
This pattern continued for several days, up until they reached the draw bridge for the castle she was supposed to deliver this precious item to. Whatever was contained inside the carefully sealed box was unbeknownst to her, but the girl could only hope that it didn't spell trouble. She let her companion horse be taken (rather reluctantly, might we add) as guards led her through the structure's grand halls and into the throne room. This was a rather unusual event, for in all the royal palaces that she had been to, the guards had just taken the package before locking her outside--not that she minded, but she got her money then.
"Let go of me," Red hissed to a male that had taken hold of her shoulder rather roughly, and the touch reignited a memory within her that she only desired to forget. When forced down, the huntress tore herself away from human touch and let her knees touch the floor.
"...your highness," she greeted once, in a voice that held no intent of truly submitting. Princess Elisa had been hailed across the Homelands as a virtuous woman; there was nothing short of some bitterness going through Red, whom had her own innocence taken away at a young age. Such a comparison... was nothing easy to compose herself from. The mere thought alone felt like a personal attack, but she bit her tongue hard (the pain distracted her) while the guard announced her presence and purpose.
Happy Valentines Day
dollwinkjung:
From:Â Me
To:Â You
{`blinking as she catches the ticket between two fingers, red quirks a brow up from the contents of the 'coupon.' she's never been one for this type of physical affection, but it's the sentiment of this gesture that makes the female smile and bow to the other.} Thank you so much! I don't believe we know each other, so... {`laughs and pockets the gift.} I'm Ruby; nice to meet you.
It was evident by the Hatterâs obvious nonchalance as his legs swung ever so casually to the rhythm of the autumn wind that blew in his own direction. Violently pink hair that shifted to his very movements. Now the Hatter was one who was patient to the extent that he expected his own results to develop in such a sense.
Those violet eyes lingered briefly for a moment as he took sight of something in particular. What was this? His airplane had returned? How strange! Immediately his digits grasped the paper, quickly pulling apart for his own curiosity was his true infatuation.Â
The words that lit in those candescent hues caused the male to simply sit up straighter, flexing the paper in his hold. âHmm.. hmmâŚ.â And those legs had swung in childish mirth as it always had; as he always would have. Velvet tiers that were hidden beneath the surface of those sublime features as he presented himself as nothing more than a mere child in such a situation nonetheless.
Quickly a pen was plucked from his own ear, the words etched into the paper once more as it was placed upon his thigh. Elegantly scripted â for what it was worth â for what he was worth. âBut of course you see! Though these words are heard, now a conversation must happen for us to converse and such. Yet such a method has yet to lead to very much. Perhaps you and I, might find a way to communicate. Who are you, may I ask? Are you as lost as I?â
The paper was then folded in a different manner â similar to his earlier creation as the plane was sent in the other direction â the direction in which it had come in through to his own grasp.
Was it unreasonable to expect a response back? There were many interactions that were lost in the midst of things, like the wind (quite literally in this case), yet Red was here waiting for the paper plane to land in its proper place. It seemed quite impossible at this point--for who would be able to send it back in the same direction without being within sight, especially in the one who was trained to seek those who were hidden--but there were many impossible things that happened back in the Homelands ever day, things that were beyond the mundy explanation here on Earth.
Alas, though, this was Earth and not the Homelands.
The female placed her arms on the table and groaned silently into the space they held. Boredom was such a wretched thing, as was exhaustion, and the two combined were no less than an almost lethal combination. She was half-wishing for a new set of assignments and half-wishing that the coffee she ordered would get to her table by now. When Red lifted her head up and sat up straight, properly as to not draw wandering eyes, she saw the plethora of people with steaming cups in her hand that were not hers. Caffeine was a bit of a lifeline these days, shall we admit.
However, her attention was distracted when she saw an object flying her way, seemingly past the apathetic visages of all the mundies in the cafĂŠ. It was quite strange that they paid no heed to the paper plane on its route to her table, but perhaps that was best; after all, what would've happened if the message was intercepted midway through? An end to a conversation! Such things wouldn't do, and so the girl opened the plane (the design was different but she paid almost no heed) to read the elegant script lying within its folds.
Ah, what a peculiar manner of speaking. For a moment, she felt a warmth of familiarity rise within her, for she knew that this speech was somehow known to her already... The memory was lost, as many others were in the grander scheme of her mind; right now, she was more intent on understanding the strange sentence structure and word choice as presented--for Red was not the brightest of the bunch.
"Am I lost? In what way are you asking? I know the way around this city, but... Nevermind. You can call me Ruby, and you are?" And once that was done, the female took two tries to fold the paper correctly before sending it off in the direction it had come to her in, taking the chance and hoping it would land in the correct place.
@Girls_Day_Minah âĄ

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oo15 || Shattered w. Ruby
Hazel eyes widened at the thought of a possible recognition from the huntress, Â if the other did acknowledged of her then it could be alright to assume she was somewhat tied to the beautiful eyes so similar to the womanâs own that had been haunting Katherine for months now every time she closed her own orbs. It didnât matter if the witch told herself she did what she had to do, the simple thought of having hurt one beyond repair by being merciful enough towards the owner of those pure, innocent and hopeful eyes she wished to forget.
As the otherâs grip tightened around the adversaryâs wrist, Kate took a deep breath to fight against the primal instinct to struggle to make the other girl let go of her or worst, use her unique ability to throw the other across the way. The red-haired knew that if the encounter happened months ago, that was exactly how she would had reacted at the time, now being able to recreate the events of a poltergeist haunting seemed a lot more like a curse than an actual âgiftâ.
Kate didnât need any more reason to make the girl doubt about her intentions, her first priority was cross the portal and help those injured on the other side in order to redeem herself before her conscience and her own witchcraft, that with normal spells and potions that she hasnât practiced for such a long time. The petite woman wanted to be a witch again, not a murder⌠Murderess which made everything sounding even worst at her own ears, witchcraft was much more than anyone could ever tell, it was dangerous and attracted darkness, specially the witchâs darkness.
âI need to cross the portal, please, you have to let me go.â Katherine step down her pride to look at the otherâs eyes and beg her once again, not even flinching at the sound of the metallic piece of the knife being withdrawn, if the witch didnât managed to cross the portal she surely deserved any kind of fate the universe put the huntress to decide. âNo, you need to let me go because I have enough of medical knowledge to be helpful to the people on the other side, I mean no harm to any of them.â
Dragging her teeth across her reddish bottom lip at being called a puppet, Kate only could feel shame, disgust and rage at herself for have being so stupid and so easily to toy with, she knew one day would come were she would pay for all of her offenses whatever it takes, it was one of the basic laws of the universe: what goes around always came around. However, she thought none could ever punish her better than herself.
To live to redeem herself while bearing the weight of so many deaths on her shoulders and forever chained to the consequences of her actions seemed the accurate punishment than any other kind of sentence to the atrocities she committed.
âBecause you still have a little life in you yet, Â if you killed me youâd become exactly what I was and we both know youâre better than that.â Kate muttered, her voice sounding so serene that it verged the lack of emotion, but it was still as soft and truthful as ever, the witch thought the truth was the only thing she could rely on at that moment. âAnd we also know that I deserve much worse than death for what Iâve done.â
Her words almost tipped Red almost the edge--almost. Already was her grip tighter on the other woman, knife poised and ready to take the essence of life that the Adversary was pleading to protect, and she would have drawn the knife against such an inviting throat if not for the haunting nature of the words echoing inside, you'd become exactly what I was.
"No!" The huntress spat the foul word so hastily that one would think just the utterance of it was poison on her lips. Her intentions were justified, were they not? Aslan had specifically told them, though his words were soft with lack of conviction, to kill if that was what it came down to. He was a peaceful lion but not a foolish one--for he knew that the only thing to come from necessary war was nothing less than casualty. She was not the same as the horrible, pathetic woman (if she deserved to even be called that) in her grip, the very person who had destroyed the very metaphorical ground that Red had once stood on; someone who had murdered for the sake of selfish gain, to aid darkness in its conquest for the Homelands.
But, where was the red flare?
Where was the red flare in the enemy's aura that would tell her that all Red was hearing were lies?
Where was that affirmation? That justification?
Impossible. It was goddamned impossible. There was no way that such a ruthless monster could have a tremendous change of heart within a mere few months. Red did not dare weep outwardly, but there was something reminiscent of a coiled sob enveloped in the bars of her rib cage. More than anything, she wanted to take revenge for the family she lost, for the homes and the flowers and the trees that had been burnt down in their wake--for the survivors that had to live with those images carved into their memories. For those who suffered much like she did in the wake of war. However, she couldn't, not when she remembered the pleading eyes of a lion whose pride had been torn down by the Adversary's dominance.
"Death would make it fair," the brunette gritted her teeth, voice trembling yet alive with a resonating timbre, a renewed yet vindictive vigor. "After all, how can I be sure that you're not just a good actress? That you won't go back and wreck havoc on the Fables if I let you go? I don't know that."
Her arm brought the blade closer to the other's smooth flesh, neck exposed. Red knew perfectly well that the vital tubes laid just under this skin--all it would take to end it would be to shove the knife inside and cut off her airways, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She didn't draw the knife away, but she didn't press it down either. What was the line of justifiable killing? What was slaughter?
{`itâs not surprising that heâs managed to catch her attention; music always did touch even the loneliest, desolate souls. he was yet to find one who wasnât lured into a web of dazzling notes. breathing slowly, he plucks the white bud of an earphone from his pocket and sticks it in his ear; the tune flows in his mind and soothes the madness of the Piper. only then does he allow the flute to rest at his lap, and his other hand to wave back. the smile is upon his face again â cunning, it looked like. or so heâd been told in the past, anyway. he liked to think of it asâŚdeceivingly charming (who was he even fooling nowadays?).} Hello! {`the greeting is undeniably cheery â thatâs what people are supposed to act during the holidays, right? impatient, he pushes himself off of the bench and minimises the distance between them with long, unhurried steps. no need to rush, he mused, one earbud dangling in front of him, allowing him the liberty of hearing her through the noise made my the arrival of another year} Happy New Year, miss. Does no one else have the pleasure of being in your company but me?
{`truthfully, red's not the music type. she's never been a musically-inclined person, even amongst all the romanticized souls out there, so the only reason she's even acknowledged the tune billowing around her ears is to find the source. however, when the female turns to look at the unfamiliar individual, something in her tells her that she should run... or at least stay away, physically or emotionally. when he begins to briskly walk toward her, red offers a smile and scoots over to allow him room if he chooses to sit down (she hopes he doesn't).} Hey there, sir, and happy new year to you too! {`the words, ever so coated with sugar, make her quirk a brow before she offers a soft laugh.} I'm not one to really celebrate holidays anyway, so I wasn't attending parties or anything like that. {`truth be told, she has almost no friends, but he doesn't need to know that.} What about you? You sound like you should be playing a concert somewhere.
â ďź day 005. ďź â¤ character development â˘
resources and abilities
Where did they learn their abilities? Hunting and its other learned skills were something that came along as a survival instinct that was fine-tuned. After Red had left home, she needed to feed herself, no? Of course, in the beginning, the girl was extremely clumsy--she missed fleeing prey, cut herself on her own weapons, left bits of fur or feathers on the flesh while skinning, and was terrible at camouflaging. It had taken her a while, but she eventually got the hang of it. She got rid of the red cloak that made her stand out horribly in the forest, improved her methods and techniques for weapons (particularly knives and bow and arrows), and was finally able to properly feed herself.
As for the lie detector ability, she has no idea where it comes from, but she's had it since the aftermath days of meeting with the wolf.
If they have an income, where does it come from? She does have an income and it comes from her two jobs, delivery girl and bakery cashier. It's not much to live by in context to other parts of the metropolis, but it's enough to get through life.
Do they have a job? Do they like it? How do they feel about their co-workers? Red has two jobs. She's relatively neutral about both, leaning more towards liking them since they both give her much needed distractions. The delivery job gives her the needed adrenaline or thrill of riding her motorcycles through the many cars in Seoul while the bakery job lets her be around a more relaxing environment--pastries and the warmth/smell of them. The girl has no co-workers she particularly likes or dislikes, unless they give her a harder time than necessary; when that happens, she gets bitter for a while before letting it go.
â ďź day 004. ďź â¤ character development â˘
( Favorites and Habits )
What are some of your characterâs hobbies? What do they do with their time? Truthfully, Ruby doesn't leave much time for herself--considering she has two jobs to support herself at the moment. When she does have time, she's usually too exhausted to do anything too tedious, so she does all her chores or just sleeps herself away.
Favorite color? I don't think she has a favorite, but there is both a good and bad attachment to red.
Favorite music artists? Movies or TV shows? Books or authors? Actors? She doesn't have any favorites--mostly because she's not educated enough to read and understand the material deeply or correctly, nor can she keep up with any music artists and movies/television due to... Not owning a television or computer. She's seen glimpses of them every now and then on screens and advertisements she's passed by, but she doesn't recognize any celebrity by name.
Political stance? Are they active in politics or do they not care? She doesn't have any particular political stance, nor is she active in politics. She does what she has to when she's called into the government office (usually for delivering something or helping out with an interrogation). I'm not sure if the very nature of being in an alliance is political in itself, to be honest, but if it is--that means that she aligns herself with what she believes to be justice. Red will probably hate systems that have been implemented or ruled by dictators (such as some in the current modern world) due to her experiences with the Adversary.
What are some of their pet peeves? Red is not fond of wishy-washy or rude people, nor is she fond of those who are self-pitying and "depressed" (both in clinical and emotional contexts). Having spent a while lingering in her own pain, she eventually got tired of crying and decided to change--though it was a much more difficult process than the girl had ever anticipated, and one can argue that she didn't change at all--which explains her lack of patience for others who keep insisting that they can't.
What sort of gifts do they like? She likes thoughtful gifts. Anything flashy makes her think of the elite and rich, whom she has a slight resentment toward.
What is their favorite time of day? Favorite weather? Season? Her favorite time of the day is early morning because she found that the most calm when she lived in the forests of Un Fabuliste and hunted. It was that kind of solidarity that helped calm her mind, and that was also the time of the day that not many were on the streets of Seoul, unlike the later hours. She likes sunny days best, especially during Spring. Summer is too rainy and humid for her liking.
Where do they like to spend their time? She actually really likes the bakery! Aside from rude customers and occasionally mean bosses and co-workers, there's not much for her to dislike in her work place. Aside from that, Ruby is fond of the parks or mountains, anything resembling the nature she once lived in.
Favorite food? Favorite drink? Hot drinks, soft drinks, or alcohol? She finds herself liking dukbokki, hot noodles, and soups the most--anything that's homely and warm, except for hot days. That's when she has the sweet tooth for pastries, patbingsoo, and ice cream. Her default drink is always water; she doesn't have a preference for anything else, so if given, she'll drink it. No heavy alcohol, though.
Favorite animal? She doesn't have any particular favorites--she just hates wolves and is iffy about dogs. Any sort of canine, really.
Do they have any pets? Do they want any? She cannot currently afford pets, but she wants to have one in the future.
What relaxes them? Typically something exhilarating that can get her mind off things, which are sometimes even on the illegal side--speeding, roller coasters, et cetera. Red is the type that comforts herself by distraction, so if she's provided too much idle time or a task is too boring, her mind will wander and make her tense.
Do they have any bad habits? Red's worst habit is speaking before thinking, which can be derived from letting her emotions get the best of herself. She's long learned to tone it down a bit, especially due to the nature of her two jobs and her role in the alliance, but it does come out occasionally when she's infuriated or annoyed enough, or when she's desperate to say something to someone else that she just blurts out (the first thing) whatever's on her mind.
{ + } leejihyun-demigod started following you
{`the girl likes to believe she has an admirable worth ethic. she's never been someone to take off work for the sake of taking off work, but perhaps that is because she has nothing to do otherwise. however, seeing as how paranoid some individuals in these parts seem to be to any show of illness, her boss at the bakery has taken it upon herself to stop red from doing her job, instead insisting that she go see a doctor. the huntress has health insurance, yeah, but she dreads the doctor and all their strange tools--yet here she is, swinging her legs while seated in a brown thinly-padded chair awaiting her turn to be checked out by one of the doctors or nurses. curse this cold.}

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â â ăof illusions and reports ă âś ruby and garrick
It would seem that he had not been the only one to perceive the waning morale of their forces. Stubbornly clinging to something as intangible and capricious as hope had its limitations; fable and mankind alike could not survive and thrive on it alone despite being a powerful tool that could give a man purpose.  Years of leading warriors born and bred to clash swords as well as shed crimson blood taught Garrick that so long as people were given a reason to continue fighting, they would rise from the ashes and the putrid filth in order to become an unstoppable force. If one were to give a person who has lost everything there was to lose a reason to push forward and fight for a better, brighter tomorrow, they would have at their disposal the bravest and strongest of souls to chase away the darkness that threatened to immerse their world into chaos.
Rubyâs words echoed and bounced off the corners of his mind, creating a repetitive and hushed sound that sent his thoughts into disarray. ââŚbut itâs the only thing we have. Hope, I meanâ. As much as the dragon blood wanted to believe the messengerâs words, there was something inside of him that firmly thought the contrary. Whenever the manâs eyes deeply bore into anotherâs, he did not see hope. Hope had lost its place within the hearts and spirits of those who were fortunate enough to escape the devastation and occupation of their motherland at the hands of the Adversary, leaving nothing but a sense of despair and disillusionment that crippled their resolve. In their eyes the warrior saw an ever growing void that ate away at their will to rise again and defy their oppressors; he saw broken spirits. NoâŚthis was not the working of hope.
âThere is a difference between hoping and resigning to oneâs own fateâ. The man ran his fingers along the strong curvature of his jaw, wondering if their fate had been resigned to meeting and gathering in secrecy to discuss the state of mind and morale of their troops. As much as discerning the enemyâs next steps were vital to conjuring counter measures and effectively planning their movement, Garrick easily concluded that they would hardly succeed in achieving anything so long as the men and women fighting this war did not have purpose.
âRuby, â his tone had become solemn, underlining the magnitude of the situation at hand. âHave you gazed into the eyes of our brother and sister-in-arms and seen the slightest glimmer of hope? That is not hope you see, that is survivalâ. Perhaps it was a little difficult to understand when one used the concept of surviving as an opposite to hope or hoping. âNo longer are we fighting or hoping, we are merely surviving â that is our greatest weakness at this point in time. If we intend to make a stand and battle those who have oppressed our people, I fear that we will be sending weary souls and broken spirits to the slaughterâ. The German paused for a long moment, tongue momentarily darting out to wet his dried lips until he slowly straightened his posture, adopting a more dignified and strong stance. âHope is what we need the most right nowâŚWe need to give them purpose again. Only then will we be able to retaliate and stand a fighting chance against our enemiesâ.
Another pause, followed by a quiet sigh as the taller man gazed intently at the woman who stood before him. After a moment or so, Garrick brought a hand to the back of his neck, gently rubbing the tense muscles beneath his calloused fingers while glancing out the window in the living room. âOne would have to be foolish to believe that the Adversary is up to nothing. Although they have been relatively quiet and passive for quite some time, I have reason to believe that they are in the midst of planning their next move. It is only a matter of time before they strikeâŚâ The old fable folded his arms across his chest once more and glanced at the red clad messenger, dark brown eyes seemingly peering right into her very being. âWhat concerns me now is whether or not our forces will be capable of standing their ground once they choose to do so, what with the current state of the armyâ.
Red froze when she heard her mundane alias sounded out in such grim context--had she said something wrong? The female had a tendency of doing that quite a bit, particularly when she was in a rush or her emotions had gotten the best of her, but she had been sure that they had been kept in control this time around. There was always something about being around Siegfried that made her want to keep on the down low. Perhaps it was the very thought of stirring her own alliance member's anger that made her pause and think for once in her goddamn life. However, listening to what the male had to say made something stir from within and she saw it all: what she was fighting against. The fires, the ash, the soldiers that had marched across the lands back home...
To have the Homelands restored to its former glory was all she ever wanted. To see Un Fabuliste renewed with the vigor of life threading through every form walking the ground.
"But if we're just surviving, then isn't it be easier to just be with the Adversary?" Her response was impulsive, brash, but she knew it rung true. There wasn't much going to anyone in the Good right now. If survival was someone's first instinct, wouldn't it have made sense to be on the side in power? After swallowing a lump in her throat, the huntress spoke again. "The fact that we're all still on this side now... Has to mean something, doesn't it?"
She couldn't say anymore, not even if she wanted to. She was barely surviving on the threaded thoughts lingering in her bare mind; they had already left her lips in a flurry, and she was left with nothing. Red felt reluctant to even look at her companion, instead facing the tapestry with feigned focus to distract her from being able to see the truth emanating from Siegfried. However, with the amount of experience she had in differentiating liars from honest people, she could even hear the resonating timbre of truth in the echoing deep voice that she couldn't even deny it to herself anymore. They were precariously hanging over a cliff they couldn't climb off of anymore.
"...does anyone else in the Good know? Maybe you can write that on your report instead," though superficially the girl had changed the subject, it was lingering on her mind. Her voice had become distant, as if she were standing in a faraway place rather than in Siegfried's work room. To deliver such a status would further demoralize their forces, but the truth was necessary to prepare for battle--something Red recalled taking part in decades ago just before arriving to the mundane world. "Would it better to tell them or lie a little? I am afraid of what impact saying the truth may have."
oo15 || Shattered w. Ruby
Katherine Batts used to be a dreamer, oneâs overall good and kind girl that used to nurse sick and injured small animals back to health, who helped lost strangers into the right direction, who held hope as her fuel that kept on pushing her forward to mend the broken pieces that was left behind after her motherâs death, she was the kind of girl that used to defend others who were unable to defend themselves. The little witch was feisty, but not for a single second she stopped believing.
But as she grew up, everything seemed to get harder and harder to the point of hoping hiding itself in the very core of her empty heart. It was meaningless, nothing could ever bring her mother back, she came to that realization when there were no more tears to shed but the pain was still there. Betsyâs confession triggered her agony, she could never thought one day she would be able to hate a person with such a passion, the red-haired never thought that with only a look someone would be able to twist the gut that ordered her to kill.
Katherine never thought she would be able to wish for someoneâs death, but John Bell was her only exception and when The Bellâs witch finally shed his blood, it was time to allow Betsy to go away, to recover from the trauma that came as a consequence to that experience, she should continue to keep her one and only best friend safe. Betsy went away without even looking back, without communication, without her.
For the longest while there were no more heavy sighs, no more irregularly heart beats or headaches. Kate couldnât feel anything, anything at all, that was until she got tricked into join the Adversary; the witch never thought she would feel that kind of darkness, that she would want to cause pain into someone else to the point of destruction, but she felt her lips grinning upwards in such satisfaction and even pleasure at the feeling of taking someoneâs life.
She was killing herself bit by bit⌠And dragging so many people with her that life almost felt like a funeral house, she had almost forgotten she was a witch by now.
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In war, there were no dreams. Hope was already dangerous territory to tread on. Almost all the Fables went with survival instinct, flight or fight--unique to members of the Good was a general sense of justice and, perhaps, vengeance (as was the case with Red). That was all anyone really needed to keep going during a time like this; the huntress was barely put together from the last few events within the preceding months, but she was stable enough to put on the field.
It had been but one day that the girl was in this post. Rest was almost non-existent, but adrenaline kept her and her partner on the tips of their toes. There was no letting your guard down, not even for a second. The smell of decomposing bodies reminded her of the consequences of breaking this rule, and she could only shudder at the mere thought of her being in such a similar position. At the instance that Red was called out and shown the escaping enemy by gesture, she immediately swooped in to stretch an arm forward and pull that person back. Seeing the other's face made her mind reel and she almost let go, almost.
She knew her.
( A young woman on her knees. Ash falling between pale fingers. Cries of a lost child echoing. A sliver of red. )
"You..." Red trailed off, tongue grazing her dry lips as she continued to look at the woman before her. The huntress didn't know who, but recognized her from memories she tried to keep at bay. Here was the figure of one of her nightmares, the one she found standing victoriously on the burnt remains of everything Little Red had ever known. A woman who singlehandedly destroyed someone's world. A woman who singlehandedly destroyed her world.
"Why--" The female's voice trembled momentarily--such an unusual sound on confident lips. The more that the two stood there, the more searing anger and resentment built up inside of her being until it could no longer house it. When her partner came about, presence to her side, Red waved him off to go take care of other things--this Adversary was a foe that she had to face alone. If not for a fight or a kill, then for answers... Pathetic justifications. Anything that would make the demons leave, or fill the holes of the story.
She listened to the poor girl's begging tone and though she could see the truth in her words, the huntress could not make herself believe them. Someone who could help the enemy destroy the lives of innocent people could not have such a great change of heart in such a short period of time--after all, Un Fabuliste had burnt to the ground mere months ago. Red's eyes were blazen, narrowed while her teeth ground against each other and her arms forcefully tugged the Adversary woman back. Despite the truth, the nature of the young girl's abilities still had to be concealed.
"Why?" And here, Red slowly drew a knife from her belt, still clean from slaughter. "Why should I let you go? So you can crawl back to your puppet master? So you can escape to kill those who have managed to make it across?"
The weapon was trembling between her fingers.
( There were desperate pleas that went unheard. Burnt debris everywhere. The roar of a lion that shook the forests. The ground quivered underneath Red's knees. )
"Give me one good reason I shouldn't kill you right now."