#seaprayer

“We woke in the mornings

to the stirring of olive trees in the breeze,

to the bleating of your grandmother’s goat,

the clanking of her cooking pots,

the air cool and the sun

the name first comes from her headstrong and steadfast ‘brother’, senel coolidge. while she’s heard of a girl, kidnapped and locked up in the bandit’s lair, not once has the name reached her ears. her sense of justice is what drives her in the beginning, a sense of duty demanding that she save this girl, regardless of whether or not they’re acquainted.

it’s been a long while since she last feared losing her life for the sake of another. she has no qualms running headfirst into danger, not if she can protect, even save another by doing just that. at the first opening, she slips away from raynard and coolidge, completely undetected in the chaos borne of their battle with the bandits, the stampede of their enemies' approaching footsteps. they would only hinder her, she thinks as she enters the hideout--

--and crashes down into the tunnels beneath, her descent courtesy of an admittedly well-placed trapdoor. while she wants to scream her frustrations, there’s little point in taking such action-- instead, she wanders the tunnels, wondering about the nature of the girl she’s attempting to save.

what is she like? is she kind? standoffish? will she appreciate a complete stranger charging through a legion of bandits to save her? does she even need saving?

she crashes right into coolidge as her mind remains occupied-- and ends up conceding to their logic, begrudgingly agreeing to aid them in their efforts. they share a common goal, if for different reasons, and there is little reason to work separately if that goal would be achieved faster by joining forces. with raynard and coolidge both at her side, they make quick work of the bandits and reach the room confining shirley, guided by sandor’s tip. 

( the soft, terrified voice that floats through the door alleviates her earlier worries, and replaces them with a set of new ones )

she can do little but watch as coolidge attacks the door, eres fuelled by his anger, his desperation to free shirley. even she knows when one must back down, however-- blood seeps from his split knuckles and his teeth wear against his bottom lip, frustration and fury evident on his face as herself and raynard step in, stopping him ( though, upon further consideration, it’s shirley who stops him in his tracks )

they swiftly decide that their next move is to hunt down sandor, and make him talk. he’s rather easy to find, in the end.

the ensuing battle with moses is, without doubt, a frantic one-- coolidge is desperate to retrieve the key ( and she can’t help but wonder what about her drives him to go so far ) yet their unit is newly-formed, each member unused to his or her teammates. she doesn't quite understand how they pull off their victory, considering how well-knit a team moses sandor and his galf make. by all rights, there's no way they should have emerged victorious, no way they should have been able to take the key. any victory celebrations are cut swiftly short by sandor's second-in-command, and as the five of them stare out over the red-clad army force, she prays they aren't here for shirley.

she’s surprised by the wave of gratitude that washes through her as the key is tossed in coolidge’s direction. they return to the room and, distantly, trained ears hear the bandits' cries of war, and the clash of weapon against weapon. the unidentified army is working to their advantage, it seems, as escaping will undoubtedly be easier amidst the chaos below.

her hopes are dashed as shirley cries out from behind the door, and they barge in without a second thought. there’s far too much to take in, and as she glimpses towards the ball of swirling mist, she can see the limp form of a blonde girl contained inside.

she knows, somehow, that the girl she sees in there is shirley.

yet, moments later, she’s gone.

upon meeting the girl for the first time properly, following a harsh battle with her mystery-shrouded captor, chloe is glad to get the chance to know her better. or, rather, get to know her at all, considering she has little prior knowledge of the girl. while they venture through the subterranean passages, coolidge is nothing if not overprotective of the girl, who has remained meek and quiet. though she is concerned for her well-being, not a step is made out of line-- it’s a very real possibility that coolidge will lash out, and the two of them have certainly fought enough.

being quiet is not a bad thing, however. she’s able to discern the majority of shirley’s emotions through her body language and facial expression, and as the topic of the merines and the kingdom of terises arises, the flicker of discomfort across her expression is not something that goes undetected-- the topic is changed far too quickly for any substantial information to be gleaned.

the arrival of the oresoren drags out into the open what is undeniably a love for cute objects and creatures. it’s both refreshing and relieving to find that she has something in common with shirley, though in her case she has kept such affections under heavy lock and key.

as coolidge and raynard aid the oresoren in their digging efforts, shirley displays more sociability in a few short minutes than she has since she awoke in the secret passage. perhaps her subdued attitude was due to their large group? it’s noted that the girl is far more willing to entertain norma’s endless questions with the group surrounding her halved in size. it’s infinitely more surprising, however, when the blonde quite brazenly slaps norma, desperate to retrieve her brooch.

perhaps it’s such a display, combined with the revelation of why it’s so important to the blonde, that makes her stand up and scold norma, expression twisted into a frown and tone firm. soon enough, as the treasure hunter once again displays incredible levels of absurdity, she’s loudly objecting to norma’s backhanded attempts at getting her hands on shirley’s brooch.

some things about shirley remain veiled in mystery-- the brooch’s origin, her sister, a steadily growing list. she doesn’t quite have the time to think about it as they flee from the so-called “long long demon”, casting glances back in shirley’s direction ever so often until she decides it’s better to just fall back, keeping pace with shirley without much of a problem.

( she isn’t quite sure where it comes from, but she finds herself determined to protect the meek blonde )

it’s all for much the same reason that she rushes to hold off the long long demon alongside coolidge, that she positions herself in front of shirley when they escape the cavern ( through the door that the blonde opened-- on her own? ) as they face down their pursuer.

too many distractions present themselves as they mull over their next move-- raynard’s incoherent babbling about the now-fallen monster, the slight drops of rain ( oh how she hates it ) pull her attention away long enough that she doesn’t notice coolidge slip away with shirley in tow, unaccompanied by any of their strange group.

( how cowardly. )

when they next encounter coolidge, it’s both his comment and her fury at his earlier stunt that fuels her punch. sat on one of raynard’s sofas, she finds herself even more angry upon hearing that coolidge’s stunt has lost shirley to vaclav’s forces. even though the threat presented by vaclav is very real, she knows how ruthless the man is-- she can’t help but worry for shirley’s wellbeing as she teams up with raynard, heading out to port-on-rage in order to find the infamous ‘jay the unseen’.

her thoughts don’t leave the undoubtedly terrified blonde once.

the second time she encounters shirley, a wave of relief washes through her body upon seeing her unharmed. of course, the situation is at coolidge,  rather dire, considering she’s still in vaclav’s clutches. even if she’s still angry at the stubborn alliance marine, she’ll put aside their differences for shirley’s sake. it’s perplexing, how much she finds herself caring for a girl she’s scarcely even spoken to.

she’s forced to disregard such thoughts as they’re enveloped by the cover provided from jay’s bomb, as they find stingle in the mist rather than shirley. while his prowess with the sword is undeniable, and eerily familiar, she’s forced to disengage, darting back into the waterways alongside coolidge-- raynard and norma soon join them, and they venture deeper in, searching for shirley.

she moves on instinct when she catches sight of two crusandi soldiers cornering shirley and the unknown blonde, and the satisfaction she feels when a single demon fang renders them both unconscious is undeniable. however, not everything goes quite as smoothly-- the other girl present, fenimore, hesitates for too long. 

( but being labelled as their enemy is something that doesn’t sit right-- it’s then that she knows she’s missing something crucial )

melanie’s voice rings through the air, and as shirley turns chloe catches a glimpse of the shock, the fear, settled in her expression. she can only imagine what the terrors have done to someone they so vigorously pursued, and she regrets her lack of action, that she couldn’t get both shirley and fenimore out of danger quicker--

it’s those regrets that remain steadfast in her mind as the wave of water crashes over her, and she blindly flails, gasping for help. briefly, she thinks she catches sight of shirley diving in after them, hair glowing a brilliant blue beneath the surface-- there isn’t enough time for her to truly decipher what she’s just witnessed as her valiant efforts to keep herself afloat lose their effectiveness and she sinks, eyes sliding closed and mind blank.

when she wakes with a jolt, her first thought is whether or not shirley is safe.

their third encounter is in the depths of the ruins of frozen light. the woman contained in the ruins’ depths looks so much like shirley it’s impossible to not make the connection. this woman, stella, is undoubtedly shirley’s aforementioned elder sister ( and her suspicions are confirmed by vaclav himself, looming over them with smugness dripping from his tone )

they lose. she can’t see much from her position on the ground, stinging cuts in all the worst places and aching muscles preventing her from rising-- she can’t see norma, but she can see the top of raynard’s head, the mop of red that sandor calls his hair, coolidge’s glove as he remains lying at vaclav’s feet.

shirley, cashel gripping her left arm and stingle her right, expression twisted in a mixture of pain, worry and fear.

there’s a pang in her chest at the sight. such an expression belongs nowhere near shirley, whose voice is full of concern for her weakened brother. while initially unidentifiable, her attention is drawn to vaclav as he threatens the scared girl, offering her an ultimatum from which only he truly benefits. it’s rage, then, that demands she rise, put a stop to all of this.

she’s still too weak to stand.

it always seems to be the case-- when there’s something she desperately wants to protect, to make right, she’s never strong enough. instead, she’s forced to watch as vaclav stamps on coolidge’s back not once but twice, not a shred of mercy for the wounded fighter. all she can do is listen as vaclav speaks, telling them with mirth in his voice that coolidge and shirley are not flesh and blood.

with how deeply they care for one another, she thinks, such a connection isn’t at all necessary.

they’re moved to the back of the chamber after shirley’s begrudging agreement to vaclav’s terms-- she’s found some strength in her, resting at coolidge’s side with teeth gritted in frustration and unable to stand fully rather than kneel. she doesn’t even notice as the blonde’s name slips from her lips, tone somewhat mournful.

they can do little aside from watch as shirley joins her sister in the large tank, filling slowly with water, lit up from beneath the surface by the light emanating from the blonde sisters’ hair. whatever vaclav expects from shirley, now confirmed to be the merines, he doesn’t get it. no seal is broken, judging by his steadily rising irritation and his barked orders. more water floods through into the tank, and suddenly shirley’s face twists in pain. raynard’s exclamation informs them all well enough-- seawater is poison to the blonde.

chloe can’t say she’s surprised when vaclav shows no intention of being merciful.

the tank soon shatters, and she can barely see shirley’s limp form in the leftover puddles before golden light floods her vision and whisks coolidge away. the others all light up, claiming that shirley is guiding them out, that they should follow-- she, on the other hand isn’t so sure, despite the lack of any solid proof.

❝ but what about shirley? ❞ is the question only she asks. she’s told without hesitation that there is nothing they can do, that they need to hurry. 

as she ( begrudgingly ) complies with raynard’s urgings, she glances back in the direction of the tank, mouthing an apology as she enters the escape hatch.

upon crossing paths at the bridge chloe valens feels sorrow for shirley fennes-- afterwards, what she feels is respect.

they step into the highest level of the bridge, each worn down by battle, yet no closer to giving up. mount zeriques stands proud in the distance, its image a backdrop for the ensuing battle-- or, it would have been, were it not destroyed by the nerifes cannon. when she speaks, her voice is steeped in both terror and concern ( for both her country and the unconscious girl trapped within the machinery )

vaclav soon kneels before them, defeated, and the operator wastes no time in fleeing. both shirley and stella are free from its confines, the former having awoken, drowsiness slowing the motion of her eyes fluttering open. a sight of relief sweeps through the group-- cut short by vaclav, the remote in his hand a very real threat.

walter appears, commenting not only on the fact that shirley appears to be well, but the fact that the cannon is unstoppable-- something that draws an involuntary gasp from her lips. she’s on the verge of panic, she knows she is, yet shirley stands at that moment and declares that they cannot let the cannon fire.

it’s more shocking, more worrisome when she demands to be connected to the machine once more, hoping that she can halt the cannon’s fire herself.

she’s soon connected to the machine once again, eyes closed, seeming far too limp in its clutches-- when chloe speaks, once again uttering the merines’ name, her voice is weak, shaky. the tense silence is soon shattered by shirley’s cry of pain, followed by the resounding thud of her form hitting the floor, ejected from the machine.

it’s stella who ends up stopping the cannon’s fire, and chloe is eternally grateful.

( there’s also a part of her that wishes she hadn’t, seeing the pain on coolidge and shirley’s faces )

every moment afterwards is frantic, as coolidge yells for stella to stay with him, to stay alive-- no matter how many healing artes raynard and norma throw out, however, nothing appears to work. shirley’s woeful cries are cut short by walter, barking out something about her brooch, pointing out that the stone once saved her life.

when she agrees, there’s so much hope in her voice it hurts.

throughout the joyful exchange there’s a sinking feeling in chloe’s stomach, one that refuses to leave. the weakened woman speaks to her sister first, wise words tumbling from her mouth, and when shirley responds the waver in her voice is clear ( along with alarm, fear )

despite their desperate, panicked cries, stella’s eyes slide closed. she breathes her last, coolidge and shirley at her side, begging for her to stay.

the pain in her chest grows at the sight, until it feels no less than suffocating.

they exit the bridge, eyes downcast.

( chloe hopes that shirley’s mood takes a turn for the better, and soon. she knows how painful it is to lose family. )

in the intermittent two weeks, shirley appears to have recovered from stella’s passing-- though chloe knows that forced smile all too well. she wore one much the same at her parents’ family, at all of the official meetings as the head of the household. she’s suppressing her grief, something nobody should do.

the merines doesn’t linger in werites beacon, however. she steps up, brave and tall, and declares that she’ll be living in the ferines’ village aboard the legacy-- as she’s the merines, she has a duty to her people. a resolve that, as a knight very much bound to her duty, she can certainly admire.

she’s determined to be a provider of emotional support to her people, despite her lack of merines’ powers-- she wants to do whatever she can to aid and nurture her kin.

chloe respects her, immensely.

when chloe faces shirley at the altar of the sea, she feels a very real sense of fear-- for both the merines and for her own life

their rush up to the altar’s summit is one filled with tension-- the cold bodies of passed ferines, gadorian-issue swords wedged into the dirt, terrified gadorian soliders fleeing for their lives; all contributing to the heavy atmosphere.

when they reach the top, the expression on shirley’s face is like none she has seen before-- and while she confesses she hasn’t known shirley for long, the expression is not one that belongs on the gentle merines’ face. her hair glows the same brilliant blue as it does when submerged in water, and the air around her is so different. it’s unsettling-- almost as much as fenimore’s lifeless form.

she demands answers from the knight captain, and the answer she gets is one that makes her feel nothing short of fury. his order is one that goes disobeyed, one that she doubts she could bring herself to do regardless of circumstance. the entire situation feels far too much, and with the emergence of shirley’s teriques a crushing feeling overtakes the atmosphere. she can see the warning signs as they appear; not a word leaves shirley’s mouth, walter and maurits’ hair taking on a glow similar to the merines’ ( and while she would much rather call the woman before her ‘shirley’, her harsh words and unfeeling disposition are of a different woman, one she has not once met )

while her words sound scolding even to her own ears, in truth she is worried-- worried for senel, weakened and sprawled out on the ground, and shirley, the merines.

despite her overwhelming concerns, she braces herself for battle when walter steps forward, yet while her determination may be clear her mind is not.

losing her eres is a jarring experience, and being hunted down by walter’s sentinel guards as they make their return to werites beacon makes their trip no easier. her mind is plagued the entire trip back, desperately trying to make sense of the events recently unfolded-- and worrying for the wellbeing of the kindhearted ferines, absent from where she should have stood at the altar, replaced by an unfeeling avatar of the ocean itself.

( she only manages to distract herself when coolidge collapses, and in the rush she forces herself to focus on the present )

crossing paths with shirley at both the mirage palace and the wings of light, chloe feels hopeful-- and has faith that the ferines will come back to where she really belongs

they may be worn down, yes, but in terms of their resolve they stand as strong as ever. despite the enemies blocking their way and the obstacles hindering their progress, they approach what appears to be the throne room. even as walter appears from seemingly nowhere, sentinels in tow, she catches glimpses of a near-completely still shirley surrounded by the throne’s eerie glow.

( she looks ethereal )

she stays back with the rest of the party as coolidge approaches shirley, watching apprehensively. while she knows it’s for the best that only he ventures closer to the merines-- no, shirley-- considering her present stigma against the orerines ( and thinking back on her kind’s history discovered down in the quiet lands, she cannot blame the ferines-- yet they need to come into the present, rather than live in the past )

from where they stand, the exchange between the duo is a barely-audible one. it’s unsettling, not being able to hear a single word, and she finds her foot tapping against the patterned floor, eyes searching for something to distract her. her search ends in failure as her eyes continually wander to the throne, to the beautiful blue wings adorning shirley’s back, to her hand-- outstretched and ready to attack. she knows that the blonde would never, and while she may not be able to hear their words she can see shirley’s expression. hesitance, fear, concern; all just barely concealed behind her stone-cold mask, tainted by doubt.

the teriques disappears and relief floods her-- the threat has passed, and she is so, so thankful that all appears to be well. she does not much relish the thought of jay making good on his promise. that relief is soon torn away, as maurits’ voice rings out with painful truths ( that she knew, she has known all along, and even with such knowledge she has placed her faith in their reckless ‘ leader ‘ ) and chloe doubts she has ever wanted someone to disappear more. shirley’s home is with them, even as her quiet tone betrays her disbelief and the betrayal she feels-- chloe cares not for the distinction between races, even as shirley speaks of it as if her entire life depends on it. in the end, people are people. shirley is shirley.

( the others’ attention is torn away as senel is blasted back, and even as she moves with them her eyes remain on the merines’ form-- not even she can hide her mournful expression. none of them deserve this pain. )

their trip through the wings of light is an arduous one, winding pathways and countless enemies, yet not one of them appears tired. it is their determination that drives them, their dedication to their mission-- no matter what, they will save shirley, bring her home. the light of shirley’s teriques shines from far above them, another driving force as they advance ( though they are soon stopped by walter, and by now chloe has come to understand that no matter the course of action, she cannot save him. he is too far gone, and holds within him too much hatred for senel to see her as anything but one of his teammates )

( she cannot help but think of how torn shirley would be as she watches him take his final, shuddering breath, and a hand finds its place over her heart. she prays for him. )

spirits are all but high upon reaching the altar, seeing shirley stood atop the huge device. amidst tooth-and-nail battles with maurits, she cannot help but keep a careful eye on the merines-- not out of distrust, never out of distrust. there is little time for them to react if something happens, after all. a knight must be prepared to protect that which is important, and such a mantra repeats itself incessantly even as shirley rises into the air, lifted by her teriques, and chloe is surrounded by crackling power. if she so much as twitches, pain lances through her, yet she cannot rightfully stop struggling. even as the others talk behind her, as she idly responds to the conversation, as spirits drop further and realisation settles in.

coolidge uniting them once more does not surprise her, and as she funnels her power into an attack on the cage that holds him she cannot help but wish she were strong enough to do what he intends to.

the moment they share is tender, though soon interrupted by norma ( oh how she expected that ) shouting indignantly their way-- all seems fine as the cages holding them are dissipated and the two return to the group, where they truly belong, though maurits steps up once more and she can merely blink before electricity courses through her veins and she falls to her knees. her ears ring and her body feels so heavy that when she finally looks up, the first sight that graces her eyes is a bolt of lightning crashing down on shirley, and suddenly chloe is biting back a scream.

their situation only sours, maurits’ acsension and descent into madness witnessed by them ( and whatever he did, she is suddenly so weak, and of course coolidge can stand. she encourages him, regardless of the anguish she feels )

shirley and coolidge fight back, inspiring words floating down to the base of the staircase, and she finally feels as though she can stand. she waits for none, blade settled in the palm of her hand as she steps forward, barking out her support, encouragement. she steps up beside them, beside them all, for their final battle-- and amidst the clash of forces, she finds her shoulder brushing against shirley’s ( they share a smile, breathless and strained, but she is finally at shirley’s side. from all that time ago, it seems as though she has finally completed her mission. )

gazing out over the ocean, for a moment, all seems peaceful.

during the brunt of schwartz’ black mist, chloe becomes determined to befriend shirley.

it has come to chloe’s attention that shirley is truly a wonderful person. each minute with her is time well-spent, each activity ( though so far few in number ) is enjoyable, made so by her presence alone. it is peaceful, and yet so much is shattered by alcott’s presence, by his true identity. the serpent that coils around his arm is unmistakeable, ink unfading. it is then that her spiral begins, she can feel every negative emotion bubbling to the surface, boiling in her veins. her aggression increases, as does her hatred-- for herself, for alcott. for the world, one which has destroyed her so, led her astray and dragged her true purpose from her mind. each time her mind settles on alcott-- no, stingle-- her hatred builds, frustration mounts. if it were necessary, she would mow down whoever stood in her way for a chance at stingle’s throat.

she leaves coolidge for dead in the rain, and she hates that she made good on that thought.

( in her mind, she can once again see shirley’s torn expression. no matter how kind and benevolent the merines is, surely she cannot care for a murderer. tonight she has taken a life, she thinks as she walks away, en route to take another )

in the depths of her heart, she is immensely thankful for the fact that they appear as she is poised to strike the final blow. she can barely see past the dark mist that seems to emenate from her very skin, obscuring the image of her friends ( no, she destroyed that, she destroyed that ) and as they spout words of support, of comfort and reassurance her hands fly to her ears, gripping her hair, blocking her hearing as the mist swirls harsher. a vengeful apparition of her younger self appears, one who chants a mantra of ‘ kill, kill, kill ‘ and, looking back, she despises the fact that she listens.

it is shirley who breaks her out of her trance, who makes her understand. this is not who she wants to be, not what she wants to do. slowly but surely, that voice drags her back to the light, and she finds strength in her friends’ support.

she bests the darkness within herself.

when she returns alongside coolidge and mournfully admits that she will be returing home, she is most certainly not expecting the slap across the face that she gets, the tears pricking at the corners of shirley’s eyes as she asks, pleads-- ‘ i want to be friends with you ‘, spoken so earnestly that she cannot help but sniffle, for she has felt the same way for so, so long. doing a poor job of fighting back the tears, she decides that she is home.

( she finds herself seated beside shirley at the fountain plaza a few days later, a conversation holding much depth giving way to familiarity, to shirley repeating her name with such a gleeful tone-- chloe doubts that she could be any happier. )

in the peaceful time that follow schwartz’ defeat, chloe knows without a doubt that she has fallen head over heels for shirley fennes-- and that is something about herself that she will never change.

@pledgedheart - @seaprayer || Send me ‘Kiss’ and my muse will kiss yours somewhere according to their feelings for your muse!

They had a day off together that matched their schedules. Finally. But instead of having a bake/cook off, they cuddled. Rose had done some stupidly dangerous jobs during their time apart and had come home more wounded than ever. The wounds didn’t hurt too much but she always over-exaggerated when she’d move saying it hurts like hell until Alisha would kiss them better. Throughout the day Rose had received many kisses and she thought she’d at least return the favor.

Slowly sitting up, Rose kissed Alisha’s forehead, her nose, then her lips. The two were sappy together and that’s just how Rose loves it. Alisha makes her happy, and she hoped that Rose makes her just as happy. The two are declared life-long partners even if it was only shared between a few close friends within the castle and even outside of it.

Grabbing Alisha’s left hand she kissed the back of her hand and looked into her lover’s eyes. Kissing every knuckle, Rose lingered on her ring finger for a moment then moved to her fingertips and then pressed her lips to the palm of the other’s hand and slightly upwards to her wrist.

Rose moved a bit over towards the end of the bed while going under the covers. A giggle and a “Rose not-” came from Alisha but Rose lifted up Alisha’s leg that was closest to Rose was and bent it slightly. She pecked the girl’s knee then went down to her foot and kissed that as well. Before heading back out of the sheets the tickled her partner’s feet causing her to giggle. They were even more dirty minded than Rose.

On her way back up Rose kissed Alisha’s stomach then her upper chest by her collarbones and laid there. The two now faced each other and Rose pulled Alisha’s face down to meet hers for yet another searing kiss.

Alisha was basically Rose’s everything. Her friend, her family, her partner, her hope, her will, and also her main reason to come back and her reason wake up every morning. And boy is Rose happy about that. She never thought someone like Alisha would come into her life in this way, but that thought was proved wrong about that over and over again, many many years ago.

“And that takes care of you!” One last hard kick and the monster was sent flying into the nearest tree. “A girl just can’t take a decent walk, can she? Huh...” As Theo turned to continue down the path, she noticed a blonde girl nearby. Had she.....had she been watching the whole time? 

“You ready, Shirl?” He handed her a party popper, ready to surprise Chole the moment she entered through those doors. Repede was in position and ready to pull the rope that will drop all the confetti. It was time to surprise her.

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