#alma rem axisa

[senseoverblood]

Sudden Recall [Pre-Stormblood]

Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk--

Alma sighed softly as she stared down at the scroll before her. Quill tip resting in a small bottle of ink, levels ever changing. Tapping the bottom with a mute sound which, while less potent in sound as it would be normally, was still more than enough to drive anyone inside the room crazy.

Words failed her this evening, refusing to come to mind without massive pushing. Despite all that has happened in her life, she found it hard to commit to written word. 

Silk draped around her shoulders, most of her long hair pinned upon her head in a bun using a pin-- or six. Though not all of it would be willing to stay trapped, those pieces rested along her neck and shoulders. Done in the hopes to keep the locks out of the ink and from her face.

Within the next few hours, Alma would be returned to the capital where she would meet her new assignment and all the challenges we would bring with him.  The scroll was littered with the thoughts of this move, the light she saw the deal she had been provided, and the doubt that it brought.

Suddenly the door opens and a young man bursts through.

“Get up!” The female blinks, tilting her head as she rested the quill in the pot.

“Ta da?” She sang, confusion filling her voice and face, as she stood and crossed her arms. No knocking, no announcement-- nothing. 

“L-lord Z-zenos! He w--wishes to meet you!” Well.. he managed to speak, at least. The confusion remained on the woman’s face. Was-- was this new information for him? Did he really think she didn’t know about her new charge? 

“Yes?” She questioned, shifting her weight, “I’ll be going so once I land to--” She was cut short.

“No!-- I mean he’s here!” Arzen had finally managed to catch his breath. It took a moment before is clicked, her arms falling to her sides.

“Now-- why!?” She quickly began to collect her items. Grabbing her quill from it’s resting place and putting the small lid on the ink pot. Screwing it closed before putting the pot itself to rest on her desk. Quill not placed on a dark dotted cloth, which she wrapped around the tool with crazy speed. Placing it into a long box and closed it, latching it locked and slipping it into her bag while putting her finger to the scroll.

The ink was far from wet but not dry either, cursing she grabbed the long bit of parchment and rushed over to her now empty dresser. Opening one of the drawers, the young Garlean slipped the still open scroll inside. Thankful the new container was long enough to avoid messing up her work as she pushed it back into position.

Alma turned her attention back to the young man whom still stood in her room.

“Let me change--“

“He won’t accept that.” Alma huffed, eyes hardening.

“I’m not meeting him like this...” The idea struck panic into her being.

“You have little choice Alma. Now-- come with me.”

She glared at him for a moment before she nodded.

“As you will.”

[thealtroster]

The cold Seems to grow in my soul, it's consuming me Confused And I'm losing myself in a storm Growing jaded Being pushed, being pulled, I'm unraveling Can't find myself when I'm constantly forced to conform

_____________________________________________________________

Never thought I would see the day where I find a song that matches both Alice and Alma. Alma being a ‘defective’ pureblood Garlean, placed into a series of situations she wished nothing of and seeing her own people for who and what they are rather than the words they hide behind. Alice being a ‘princess’ and saw as a sacrificial lamb by her own people in hopes to avoid being killed out. Built to believe she was something special and being openly lied to for the duration of her childhood and into her adult life. 

Also, Alma’s hair is like 10 times longer then it shows here.. just toooo lazy to edit it all the time.