LAST SACRIFICE (PIPMAN)
12-06-2014, 07:18 AM
What had Azalea seen in this woman, that she had chose to stand by her side during that awful day, rather than at her own aunt's side? She knew that she had never been a traitor to her own family and doubted Syrinx had ever treated her badly, and yet still Azalea had stood by the side of the family whose patriarch had defiled her. Eyes narrowed in recognizable distrust as she watched this woman, curious but wary all the same. The pain that emanated through her chest was very real and unshakable. Epiphron had loved her brother deeply, despite his imperfections, and she knew there was nobody save for Chrysanthe who hurt as much as she did over his loss. Roman chuckled at Epiphron's words and she found a slight smirk tugging at her own lips. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism -- it was unsafe to show pain, especially to those who could very well be considered enemies. Though she did not blame Roman for the wrong-doings of her father, it was difficult to not feel some kind of wariness in speaking openly with an Armada. There was a burning desire to continue the conversation in the direction she knew it might be heading, but a sigh fell from her lips. Somehow, Azalea reminded her strangely of Neo now; she admitted she had felt wronged somehow, like she'd never truly fit into the family. How stupid it sounded. Her own father had been as much a brother to her as Syrinx ever had, and she had been no different to her. "I can't help but wonder," she'd comment conversationally, though her tones were guarded still. "what started all of this.." There had been so much leading up to that battle -- so much that had torn the two families apart. But how had it all began? It was all hazy in her mind, and she found herself swaying slightly even as she stood there now, painful memories coming back to her. A moment of silence would follow, before she would shake her head. "Forgive me," she would utter, throat suddenly feeling dry. "I suppose there is no need to dwell." She'd mourned for nearly an entire season, and nothing had changed; sulking over it would only hurt her worse, and she'd never been the kind to wade in her own sorrow. |