"Actually, I'd like to meet this Darnos figure, he seems like the sort of person I would get along well with. Aside from that, let's use Selina as a frame of reference for comparison shall we? Both versions of her are relatively similar. RotMG Selina had to deal with bullying and now has to deal with homophobia and a powerful enchantment. TA Selina had to deal with bullying, parental neglect, torture and assault. She now has to deal with weapons-grade sexual urges and the prospect of possibly getting sent to hell simply because of her genealogy as well as the possibility that her sex drive may result in her killing her wife's corporeal form. I think the recommendation has a rather good basis, all factors considered."
"Life is moving rather quickly now, isn't it?" Cyrielle softly remarks quite wistfully, yet unknown even to herself, was specifically why it was wistful... did she now long for the slow trickle of time that seemed to pass when she was still terminally ill? The solace within her own thoughts broken up by her social interactions? Or did she simply wish for this rapid cascade to have occurred earlier, the comforting feeling of optimism towards the future now beating within her chest, filling the nihilism with hope and happiness? How ironic... in her darkest hours which seemed to stretch into the infinite endlessness of eternity, others always commented on how dissonantly cheerful and chipper she seemed... now, in the most brilliant solstice she had ever experienced, she was noted as being cold, possibly even emotionless... what had happened? At what point did the cynicism smother the light within her eyes? At what time did the bloodshed corrupt her dreams and icily incinerate them to ash? Was this what she was now? A hollow shell filled more with empty sarcasm than the ecstatic energy... A vestige of her former self... Was she better off dead? After all, at least when she as doomed, waiting for the guillotine to cut loose and plunge like the circumpolar misericorde of death itself there was no stress... no need to push herself towards her future, for her future were not her dreams, they could ever be, after all, they were strangled by the motionless green string and impaled by the shrill, electronic shriek that forever loomed ahead of her... Now, she had to face reality, put aside her fantasies and pursue what she intended to claim... Was that what killed her soul? Or was it the death and betrayal... the subterfuge behind closed doors and the elimination of her targets. When she had once stated that she fought a far different war to the other, she wasn't lying... it wasn't against the Layar. Well, usually it wasn't. It was with their collaborators, the traitors to humanity. Assassination. Torture. Blackmail. Interrogation. Sabotage. Those were all banalities to her within that maelstrom of deceptive illusions... Maybe it was. Maybe. What had killed her soul? To kill another does not necessarily mean to kill one's own soul. No amount of crimson could tarnish what is immaterial. Was it the guilt? Or rather, the lack thereof, try as she might, the most negative thought she could conjure was simply regret. Not regret at her one actions either. Simply regret that they did not have a perspective that would allow cooperation. No guilt. No remorse. Just a slight degree of regret. Yet she knew not all of that combined could oppress her spirit.So, what broke her? What extinguished the brilliant luminance? The answer was simple: Nothing. The light in her eyes shined far brighter than before, they were merely covered. Her dreams weren't missing, merely confidential. Her soul wasn't dead, merely hidden. And she knew that. After all, she was the one who put on the facade in the first place. The one who decided to adopt that verisimilitude of near-psychopathic pessimism. To be perfectly honest, she was far happier than she was before, she simply decided not to admit to it. Sort of, no one did ask, so it wasn't so much that she refused to admit it as much as she was simply equivocating. Why? Because it amused her. She was just as capricious as before, so she decided she might as well try something new. Partly at least. The other part was because optimism is a variable that can easily be lethal to its vessel, to reveal it immediately is suicidal. So she did not. Elegant within its simplicity was the reasoning that established this masquerade. Of course, it can't go on forever and eventually someone would find out. Such as Richard, after all, he had seen her more playful side and more importantly, he also ignores the fourth wall, so he could just read this right now. Reading what is plainly stated isn't much of a challenge, now was it? Cyrielle had already acknowledged that. Of course she would have acknowledged it. She wrote this post after all. Maybe~ I'm not going to tell~ I guess you'll have to figure that out yourself Richard~ Whether I wrote this, or if it was just a narration~ But then again, my usual writing style is better than this. Of course, that may just be to misdirect you~ Who knows~ Oh, and have fun quoting an extract from the second half of the expositionary padding~ Yes, I'm calling it padding, mentioning happiness and optimism early on before asking why my optimism is gone pretty much spells out that the latter rhetoric and ensuing train of thought is about something that didn't even happen and present for the sole sake of adding length. Oh and before Nuriel slaps me for breaking the fourth wall, I'm considering kissing her quite a bit~ Nothing questionable that would trigger a fade to black or a karma roll, though I've always wanted to try it out (french kissing that is) with her ever since I kissed Conny since I might as well kiss everyone else in the same shipping chain as me. As with everything, there is a reason, in this case, since my offer in itself is on the other side of the fourth wall, she can't actually make me concede that I made this offer without breaking the fourth wall herself~ ^‿‿^
Author
Topic: Super academy IC (Name pending) (Read 394428 times)