#lordspeaker 01

Amalie has reduced herself to nothing rather quickly. After all, being offered a wooden knife of all things had felt like some sort of insult, one that she had vehemently rejected by turning the useless thing to nothing. After all, a wooden blade lost its edge near immediately, and Amalie made better use of the thing by channeling it for her powers, fixing a scraped knee into nothing more than a faded mark on her freckled leg. 

Now, left without a weapon, or any sophisticated (or subtle) way of defending herself, Amalie is left anxious, on constant edge and ready to put her claws to someone’s face. Sick of feeling that way, she had slunk her way towards Archimedes, unwilling to crowd herself in Fibonacci, though it was more likely to be successful. The energy is unlike something she’s known before, and Amalie rapidly becomes more interested in observation than she is in scrounging for a weapon that will suit her needs. 

So enraptured, that she only notices that she is not truly alone until the last moment. The startle is half dramatics, and half her attempt to feel a bit more grounded.

“These places have the heart of a haunting.” It’s no truth, but Amalie has always had a thing for energy. “Perhaps it’s the unknown. Either way, this is the fewest cobwebs I’ve seen in one of these for some time. If this is your’s, it looks like it’s doing well.”