Meteion (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
perfectlygoodbird) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
aionlogs2022-07-31 05:02 pm
perfectlygoodbird) wrote in aionlogs2022-07-31 05:02 pm
closed
WHO: Meteion and Estinien Wyrmblood
WHAT: In avoiding the Kenoma, a bird runs into another problem.
WHERE: Venera
WHEN: 26th of Soviseri.
WARNINGS: This will only end in tears, with Meteion a shard.
.
The bird has been doing her best to keep a low profile ever since the events of the Sovereign's Moon had come to an end. She'd spoken to no one, though that had hurt. Hurt in ways that Meteion had not comprehended until now, when she was well and truly alone. There wasn't anyone she could trust any more. Not after the things she had done--but she also had no one to blame for that but herself. Meteion had made her choices now, like she had made them so long ago. Her sisters were no more, though, and despite the assurance she'd had from Cid that the Final Days had not been her fault...was that something the bird truly believed?
Not now. Not yet. She couldn't.
Meteion tugs the edge of her mantle further up over her head. She can't really hide her legs or tailfeathers--not without leaving a trail--so she keeps to the side streets, trusting in the fact that she is small and unobtrusive to hope that prying eyes simply pass over her.
WHAT: In avoiding the Kenoma, a bird runs into another problem.
WHERE: Venera
WHEN: 26th of Soviseri.
WARNINGS: This will only end in tears, with Meteion a shard.
.
The bird has been doing her best to keep a low profile ever since the events of the Sovereign's Moon had come to an end. She'd spoken to no one, though that had hurt. Hurt in ways that Meteion had not comprehended until now, when she was well and truly alone. There wasn't anyone she could trust any more. Not after the things she had done--but she also had no one to blame for that but herself. Meteion had made her choices now, like she had made them so long ago. Her sisters were no more, though, and despite the assurance she'd had from Cid that the Final Days had not been her fault...was that something the bird truly believed?
Not now. Not yet. She couldn't.
Meteion tugs the edge of her mantle further up over her head. She can't really hide her legs or tailfeathers--not without leaving a trail--so she keeps to the side streets, trusting in the fact that she is small and unobtrusive to hope that prying eyes simply pass over her.
no subject
There had been a few in Achamoth willing to do so, but there had been more of a sense of...what could Meteion do in turn, for them. Not a sense of helping just because one could. (Well. Meteion herself was of that sort, but when she was in her right mind and not subjugated under her sisters' yoke, that was simply the way she was.)
"Soothing, I can definitely do." That elicits a small laugh from her, but it's a happy one. "I suppose that is where I have some skill already. Reaching out, giving calm, but not forcing it. Save if I'm going to be attacked, I suppose." It's a whirl of thoughts in Meteion's head, and that brings her to a bit of stream-of-consciousness thoughts in her speech, but even gaining more direction from without wouldn't be a bad thing. If anything, she's confident that Estinien would not steer her wrong.