#about luce

Bea and Nell. Always them. Always. Maybe they're not my favorite, but they're most important. Ulf. He gave me my start, told me I had talent. Nadia. Adam... had a place too. Stupid fucking frat boy.

What gave you the impression I like people?

I remember coming home from home one day and Bea was in the kitchen with our mother. They were cooking something... Nisa was showing her how to make one of our grandmother's favorite recipes. I think Nell was there too, goofing off with our dad in the kitchen. Bothering Mom and Bea while they were cooking, laughing about something silly that Nell had done earlier that day. I can still remember what they were cooking. Hünkar Beğendi. I can't remember the last time I had that. Or the last time we felt like that. Maybe it would smell like that.

Or maybe it would smell like the fire, the first fire that mattered. I’d just moved out to my cabin and I was finally alone, I was finally by myself. It was just me and Iggy and it was exactly what I wanted. And I let the flames burn and rage in the middle of a storm. It smelled like rain and pine and fire and smoke. It was everything that I wanted. I don’t know if my fire will ever smell like that again.

None of this matters. Those days are gone.

What’s with the weird hypotheticals here? If I ever found a flower like that, I’d be pawning that shit off. I don’t want a weird memory flower, but I bet people would pay some good money for one.

When I was young... probably 12, maybe 13-- I wished that Bea would get a taste of her own medicine. She was always just so much... better than me. At everything. At people. At making our mom happy. At performing. At fire magic. God, her fire, it was something else. I close my eyes and I can still see the way the flames danced for her. They listened to her in a way that mine never have. And it pissed me off. How easy she had it. Because it seemed like she did, it always seemed like it came so fucking easy to her. So, I wished that one day she would know what it's like, to be... less than. To lose her spark.

Fuck, I wish she'd never lost her fire.

Back in high school, I once wished this shitlord who kept making comments about my ass during P.E. would get what he was coming for him. I saw him at a bar a few years later and punched him in the face. Call it karmic justice.

OOC:

This is actually quite pertinent to the next sorta arc I'm exploring with Luce and the new round of plots on her plot idea page I'm coming up with. So, expect to see her updated plot page sometime soon :D

But, on to the answer. Luce believes very strongly in karmic balances in the universe as a result of being a spellcaster in a very witchy home. She has, unfortunately, taken this to a bit of an extreme over the past year. Luce does nothing by haves and this has resulted in her thinking that some people just deserve to die and that she should be the one to arbitrate that, then pendulum swinging to "no, I don't have the right to determine that and I deserve to suffer and lose my magic for thinking that sort of thing." Luce, like all the Vurals, is dealing with quite a bit of survivor's guilt and that is also impacting how she views herself, her life, and her role in the world.

I won't go into too much detail, but at the moment, Luce is questioning whether or not she has done enough with her life to be deserving of it.

OOC:

In White Crest? Nowhere!

It's not a place so much as it's the company. Luce feels safest when all three of the sisters are together. She is well aware of how dangerous this town is, how swiftly death can come for them at any time. And she's also very aware of how powerful all three of them are. Individually, they are dangerous. Together, they can conquer even death itself. She feels safest when she's with her sisters and when she knows they have her back.

OOC:

Continuing the "If I make things in photoshop, the chatzies won't hurt me" theme, I made this for Luce!