#prase opal

Every plea seemed to fall on deaf ears as Moss continued her onslaught. "This place is changing you!" Prase shouted, only to be met with another swing of Moss' sword. She dashed forward with the sword's motion, catching Moss off guard. Prase took the opportunity to make a deft swipe to the back of Moss' leg before making some distance between them.

She then summoned her bow and drew the string back. Just a few minutes remained; if she could just stall her, it would all be over soon enough. Then they could finally just talk things out! They can get out like they planned, and everything between them could be like before.

Prase turned heel and pointed her arrow at the ground. I don't want to hurt… you." Her voice died off as soon as she lifted her gaze, followed by a quiet gasp. Moss was standing, nay, wincing in place, her fingers gripped where Prase's heel had struck her. Her knees were bent, as if threatening to give out from under her.

"I-I'm sorry," Prase stuttered, "I didn't mean-" Her words were stopped short at sight of the tip of Moss' mahogany brown braid lashing. She could only blink in disbelief before a barrage of wooden darts were sent flying her way. Knowing she couldn't avoid it, she quickly dropped her weapon and raised her arms to shield her face and gem.

She didn't even didn't even have a chance to register the pain shooting through her before she found herself slammed in to the cold hard ground. Prase's eyes shot open. Moss' hunch over form loomed over her. Her knees her firmly planted on either side of Prase's torso, effectively locking her in place. Her sword was tilted to the optimal position for decapitation.

Almost any other gem here would have shut their eyes, waiting for the darkness to envelop them. However, Prase could tear herself away from her assailant's eyes. There was nothing there. They were only dim, cold, and wolfish. The glint in her eyes that Prase would always see past Moss' hardened exterior was nowhere in sight.

"Moss, I know this isn't you," Prase said softly, her voice hoarse from her previous shouting. Her eyes were soft as she spoke, like she was suddenly at ease with her predicament. "I know… because the Moss Opal I love would never hurt me."

Upon uttering those words, there was a change in the opal above her. Something flickered in the back of her eyes. Prase's heaving chest fluttered with hope that she finally got through to her.

"What are you waiting for?! Finish it off!" A deep voice boomed over the crowd.

That was all it took for the flicker to go out, causing Prase's heart to sink. The Moss she knew was stuck down almost as soon as she appeared. Now all that was left was this stranger she couldn't recognize.

With a quick twist of her wrist, Moss angled her sword and plunged it deep in to Prase's abdomen. A shrill, bloodcurdling scream filled the arena, silencing the audience. In only a few seconds, Prase's form was replaced with a lime green cloud. Her smooth green gemstone clinked when it hit the ground.

Moss watched as it rolled to a stop in the dirt. Only then did reality come crashing down on her. Her sword hit the ground with a metallic clank and she recoiled her shaking hands in to herself.

"And the winner of the match is… Moss Opal!" the announcer announced, followed by the crowd erupting in to cheers.

That's my daughter!" a familiar voice proclaimed, his voice ripping through the celebrating.

Moss craned her neck up to catch sight of the speaker: a moss agate adorned in dendrites that perfectly mirrored her own. Pride and approval shone in his dark eyes.

His approval.

Her gaze fell back down to Prase's gem. It didn't matter if that's what she gained. The price for it could never be matched.

With a melancholy sigh, she placed a hand on the window sill and looked out to the dark sky. The moon's phase resembled her eyes: a narrow shard. It almost seemed to carry an air of sentience from were she was, to her at least. It was sharp and dangerous, as if it could turn an cut a tear through the very heavens itself. To think that every gem on Homeworld could be looking at the same moon. Do they see it that same way she does?

Every gem. The same way. "Prase..." she whispered softly. "I'm sorry," she said, nearly inaudibly. At that moment, the breeze of the night picked up, brushing over her lips as if trying to carry her message. Even if it was just her imagination, she couldn't formulate what else to send her intangible messenger off with, or rather right way to word it. There were few worse ways they could have parted. Prase, being undignifingly dragged by her collar, and herself in a state she strove to relinquish. Moss grimaced at the memory of Moonstone's two spinels' yowls of pain as she thrashed against their restraint and the sheer panic written across Prase's face as she departed with the remaining spinel and former commander. "I couldn't protect you. Please forgive me..." Moss closed her eyes and focused on the howl of the wind past the bars. Expecting a reply was nothing more than wishful thinking. Longing for her partner's soft voice seared deep with in her chest.

A new sound, high and almost melodic, a deviation from the hum of the cell, caused Moss to snap her eyes open. Hope sparked with in Moss as she gazed upon the vast barren plains beyond the holding facility. A warm, measly breeze blew through the bars, accompanied by the same tune, and brushing back her side braids over her shoulder. Moss lowered her head, spark smothered before it could ignite. It's just the wind.

"Lights out in five!" a guard barked as he went down a cell block. He held a war axe that scrapped against the bars and walls as her took the head count. He was about to be on his way until he heard a disturbance in the cell he had recently passed. He growled and gripped his axe tightly as her marched over to the source.

When he reached the cell, he glared in to it, expecting to find a gem to challenge his word. Instead, his brow furrowed when he only saw the back of a gem. Short, green, a feminine figure, and... whistling? He hit her cell bars with the flat end of his weapon, causing the gem on the other side to flinch and turn around. "Shut it if you know what's good for you, song bird," he said in a testy tone.

What she said could be considered a rather large understatement. The room that she stood in that was once neatly furnished with only the finest amenities was thrown in to disarray. Fractals of cracks adorned each wall, including a glass sliding door who's shards threatening to collapse like a deck of cards. Mats, pillows, sheets, and tapestries were all either burnt or shredded to a near unrecognizable state. Craftwork was shattered, lighting mechanisms were blown out, and all forms of seating were overturned or reduced to scrap. Perhaps most notably of all, the metal padlocked door to the hall bore quite a large dent, as if blunt force had bent the metal out of shape.

In the middle of this ruin, a green opal sat there on her knees, sharply bent forward and eyes fixed on the hard marble floor. The tattered white mesh she wore over a thigh length slip hung loosely from her slender frame. Open wounds, cuts and gashes, could be seen through the tears in her thin attire. Her legs were dotted with a slight purple hue that clustered together and appeared more black near her joints. Thin, off-white markings embellished her exposed back and collarbone, yet none came too close to her gem.

The sound of metallic heels clicking against the marble echoed off the walls, slowly drawing closer to her position. She clutched her sides tightly, dread overcoming her with every footstep. "Oh, but I know, lovely. It was just an accident." The sound stopped short of only a few inches of Prase's lowered head. "Wasn't it?" After only a few seconds, a frown tugged at the gem's lips. No response.

Prase didn't dare to even blink. Her mouth was dry and throat felt tight. She didn't respond. She couldn't. Anything she did was wrong, just like her. An impatient sigh told her that a response was in fact expected. She parted her lips slightly, only for a shooting pain to come across her right cheek. The force of the shoes contact caused green gem to fall on to her side and writhe while clutching the side of her face.

"No matter," the gem continued. She crouched down and placed one hand on the opal's shoulder and two fingers over her lips. "Unfortunately, this can't go unpunished." A kiss as cold as ice was given behind the opal's ear, elicting a shudder from her. "I'm sorry, my sweet, but how else will you learn?" The green gem could only give her a stifled squeak as her only form of protest. The gem looming over her only gave a small laugh. "You're cute when you're speechless like this," she cooed in to the opal's ear.