#masamunc

                   @masamunc​​ said: " You are the one /he/ spoke of then. Curious                     perhaps this alliance will be far  more fruitful than I considered."

                  H e; pronoun of unknowability. Who were they vocalizing about, he inwardly queried, for they were myriad of  plausibilities.  -  Adamant composure  depicts him, shinigami of wintry quietus, as  an authoritative militant structure  -  Cold and unyielding as the most vehement of tempests  ---  with teal illuminant optics cuttingly meticulous as the providence  of sacredness. Attention  paralleling the  towering man addressing  him,  indifferently  so,  whilst he examined their physical ensemble. Large and without a doubt  powerful. A First-class soldier, he’s read, of the Shinra industry. He deems it awfully particular how this distinct  man, labeled as human notwithstanding his demeanor fluctuating otherwise, could perceive him sans complexity -  At least until he had detected their portentous spiritual energy. He’ll have to tread gingerly from present to their sequential succession. “ Possibly -  Though pray tell ... “ features of the youth intensify  in rendering stringency,  providing a tale of tenacity; standing his  ground firm. 

" --no!"

  the word is pulled from the very bottom of her lungs, breath and all. rem doesn't even register the pain that runs up her forearms as her elbows connect with the tiled floor of her home. she's scrambling backwards, heels digging painfully into the cold surface of the floor in hopes to put some space between her and the hallucination of the general. sweat glistens across the surface of her flesh, roots of her hair darkening as her heart thunders in her chest; this wasn't real --- he wasn't real. there's a few things that causes the turk to lose her composure and allow fear to seize up her muscles and have an error message flash across the inside of her brain.

 shoulders press against the back of the stainless steel fridge, knees bent and thighs tensing; the ache in her head makes her teeth grit together, molars grinding as the pain begins to ebb and flow. she can feel her breathe shudder and she's almost certain the crimson has faded from her iris and mimicks those mako-hued blues like those of the general. she's trembling at the edges of her very being, lungs trembling with each struggling breathe she tries to pull into herself. her head gives a little shake, and rem can feel her pupils flicker -- it used to be a parlor trick to scare the new recruits but now? it's involuntary -- she wants to pull her eyes from their sockets.

 " --y-ya ain't real.. da says so.. y-yer a mem'ry... a fuck'd up mem'ry!"

   the fear breaks her voice, the scream reaching an octave higher than what she's happy to admit. she reaches to the side of her, hand disappearing between the cabinet and the side of the fridge; fingers curl around the handle of a hand gun, the first weapon ever issued to her when she joined the ranks of the turks. rem gives a yank, pulling it free from it's taped station before her thumb pulls the hammer back and her middle finger curls around the trigger.

 " so stay in m'fuck'd up mem'ries!"

!!!

♕ -  “Not this time! Are you here to cause trouble for whatever sneaky goals you’re hiding under those wings?”

 The raven hummed and tapped his cheek as he sat there, staring at the white haired man with mismatched eyes. One gold and one onyx, but the onyx had completely consumed the whites of his eyes. Despite this, black seemed to shimmer. “...There’s a face that I never thought I would stumble across.”

  ❝ how badly are you injured? ❞  the fiends are particularly vicious today, and even she bears the marks of their assault. magic is not her specialty, unfortunately, so though she’d rather heal the gash along her forehead, stella is forced to keep her battle scars.