#and chinhands aggressively into the void

[magitekelite]

✦ @painsrequiem :     He twisted Kefka's little mind-controlling crown between his fingers- a little treasure he happened to plunder. Seymour had revealed it unto Terra out of partial curiosity and the rest to make a statement. Despite their shared desire for the world's end, the maester and jester's methods differed greatly. Ensuring she watched, Seymour snapped the slave crown in half.

when the maester had requested for but 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 , she had agreed plainly , following him despite protests from those of his world who seemed to know him far greater than her .  it is not as if she is woefully oblivious or brazenly ignorant ; the girl born with the gift of magic is no stranger to the machinations of ambitious men , of their boundless pride and impassioned egos .  she took considerable care to the concerns , though she did not think it would be kind of she judged based on the 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳𝚂 𝙾𝙵 𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂 rather than the impressions 𝙾𝙵 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 .  this new world is incomprehensible —— warriors from different realms , across space and time ; there are even some who have perished living as if they have yet to breathe their last .  all so strange ...  it should make no sense , yet here they are .  this man in particular is villain to those she called friends ... ... but she , too , had worked for enemies not long ago , against her will , yet the sword wielded and the flames cast were still her .  and he 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃𝐒 , same as she .  perhaps he had his reasons — it did not absolve him , of course ... but perhaps she wishes to understand these reasons as much as she wishes for anyone to understand her as well .

her movements halt the moment he stops , side-by-side as she waits , curious as to what occasion prompted this private conversation .  terra knew so little of him beyond what he is willing to convey , and she supposes in that regard she bears another similarity .  lavender irises fixate on him until a familiar object is pulled from his sleeve , its 𝙱𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙳-𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝙰𝙳𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚂 and 𝙼𝙴𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙲 𝙶𝙻𝙴𝙰𝙼 immediately recognisable to its former bearer .  her vision blurs of all else but its frightening glow .  she cannot think , cannot speak .  any noise is drowned by the heartbeats that fill her entire being .  the crown is nowhere near her cascade of curls , but it is as if the chains of her past bind her again ... ... 𝐒𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 .

she thought impulse would take over and she would resist or run away .

to her own horror , she does neither .

she stands there and stares ... and stares ... and stares ...

... until nauseating enchantment is shattered when the slave crown 𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐍 .  one step is taken back , then another .  it takes her yet another moment to realise she is trembling at all before weak knees cave in and her feeble frame collapses onto the ground .  it takes all of her strength to force her haunted gaze away from what remains of the device to the man who destroyed it .  she is uncertain of what she feels .  𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁 or 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙵𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽 ?  𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚁 or 𝚁𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙴𝙵 ?  questions fill her mind , but in a whisper , all she can manage is one .

❝ why ... ... ? ❞

she doesn’t understand him .  perhaps she never will .