#curodiluo

[10:04:19 AM] נαωи-~: wow now im going to die

[10:04:19 AM] נαωи-~: thank

If I get 10 ‘Accents’ I’ll record myself saying all this~

out of honor —

Darkness.

It enveloped the very core of her being. She couldn't see, nor could she hear or feel. Nothing.

Could this be the afterlife, she wondered. If it was so, then why did she feel so hollow and--

Empty? 

Surprisingly, she was only left with vague recollections of the final moments of her life before she was cruelly robbed of her consciousness. The memory of the agonizing pain that surged within her body. The memory of a light that had once shined brilliantly, dimming and fading into nothingness. And the memory of a young man's hazy visage that was laced with quiet tears. She could not remember this man's name nor his face, but she remembered the desire to reach over his cheek, wipe away the tears she resented so much, and tell him with her last breath: "Don't cry. It's not like you." 

But death had already claimed her soul before the words could be said.

"--!!"

A small gasp escaped her lips and Stella's eyes had suddenly awaken from the void. Her senses slowly returned along with her awareness, and she could perceive the outer world once more. She could feel grains of sand cushioning her head, cool water washing against her light skin, the taste of salt gracing her rosy lips, and the calming sound of small waves crashing against the shore all around her.

"...What is this place?"

Still lying on her side against the warm, wet sand, she steadily absorbed her surroundings with weary violet irises -- the placid beach she had woken upon, lush green vegetation, the sky illuminated with the soft hues of sunset, and a group of bungalow houses stationed by the coast of the sea. It was nothing like the world she once remembered...

                Which was--?

Carefully, she sat up from her position, brushing away the white sand that had crusted against her skin. A dull ache throbbed within her head, and she firmly pressed her temples with lithe digits in an attempt to relieve the pain. She figured she'd stay a bit longer and let the headache pass before venturing towards the coastal town ahead. But before she could close her eyes once more, she had noticed that there were no traces of blood on her form. The chest wound she remembered was inflicted upon her had vanished. Gone without a trace.

Yes the holiday season,

[One that comes around yearly. It’s purpose? To deliver presents to those under the nice list, regardless it mostly focused on children.]

[This would be her first Christmas away from her guild, no matter; a change in tradition never pains anyone. So, to make a good impression, the mage cooked up some treats for the jolly gathering. Now, just because she dons armor of class did not mean she rose from greatness, nor did it mean that the knight is familiar written stones or royal conduct. She's just an associate, one who takes pride in the mastery of a one-handed weapon.]

Baking on the other hand is not something the dame is talented in.

[Metal coated digits carried a tray filled with cut-outs of trees, snowmen and Christmas ornaments. The cookie's exterior overflowed with icing and sprinkles to obscure the human sight away from the crispy edges. Her results were everything a baked treat should not be:]

Hard

Tasteless

Dry

     "Well you're not from around here, are ya?"