In which the reader is forced to wait while I try and figure out what's coming up next. >-<
“Patience, Kyra.”
She got goosebumps at Chelsea’s calm voice, tears escaping down her face. The pain of the gold was immense but she couldn’t place why-- skin contact hadn’t affected her before. Chelsea’s chuckled reached her as she took in a shuddering breath. “I assumed it would pain you mais than you believed.”
The dark cloth over her eyes slipped away and she blinked a couple of times. Chelsea sat across from her, scraping a jagged faca on rock, making earsplitting screeches. A wicked grin spread on the older girls face. “They are looking, you know. But they don’t have very much time.”
“So cliche,” Kyra hissed out. “The time limit, the shed, targeting me; you’re turning into a typical villain.”
“I’m starting small,” Chelsea murmured, inspecting the edge of the blade. “I’m not aiming for death, I’m aiming for heartbreak.”
Kyra’s face contorted, confused, and Chelsea leant closer. “I know that promise you made to Eric. From two years ago? Imagine if he found you break that promise.”
“He’d understand! He will understand!”
“No. Not if he finds a suicide note.”
“I never wrote--”
“But I did. Shifted his memories so that the letter he found is from you. And it’s not like you’ll be able to explain. Your time is up.”
Kyra yelled out as she unwilling moved toward the knife, dragging it towards her arm. Chelsea’s glowing crimson eyes bored into her, and as hard as she fought, she still couldn’t stop. Shakily, her hand made a deep slash in her wrist, then slowly continued up her forearm. “Stop,” she muttered, then screamed out. “Stop!”
Miraculously the faca clattered to the floor, and she grasped her bloody arm tightly. Viciously glaring at the villainess, she stood, but instantly became nauseous, leaning against the mural for support. “Have fun,” Chelsea muttered, stepping out of the shed.
Slumping to the ground, Kyra’s breathing shallowed, her heartbeat slowing. A pair of boots came up to her vision and she glanced up to see Revenge calling out. To her, it was like an old movie: black and white, with no sound. Painfully she accepted unconsciousness, her last thought being Forgive me.
P.S.: I need one sentence, from any artigo Fin's been in (doesn't matter if it's mine, yours, or another person), that shows her relationship with the other OC's and her other friends. Message any sentences you find straight to me. :3
“Patience, Kyra.”
She got goosebumps at Chelsea’s calm voice, tears escaping down her face. The pain of the gold was immense but she couldn’t place why-- skin contact hadn’t affected her before. Chelsea’s chuckled reached her as she took in a shuddering breath. “I assumed it would pain you mais than you believed.”
The dark cloth over her eyes slipped away and she blinked a couple of times. Chelsea sat across from her, scraping a jagged faca on rock, making earsplitting screeches. A wicked grin spread on the older girls face. “They are looking, you know. But they don’t have very much time.”
“So cliche,” Kyra hissed out. “The time limit, the shed, targeting me; you’re turning into a typical villain.”
“I’m starting small,” Chelsea murmured, inspecting the edge of the blade. “I’m not aiming for death, I’m aiming for heartbreak.”
Kyra’s face contorted, confused, and Chelsea leant closer. “I know that promise you made to Eric. From two years ago? Imagine if he found you break that promise.”
“He’d understand! He will understand!”
“No. Not if he finds a suicide note.”
“I never wrote--”
“But I did. Shifted his memories so that the letter he found is from you. And it’s not like you’ll be able to explain. Your time is up.”
Kyra yelled out as she unwilling moved toward the knife, dragging it towards her arm. Chelsea’s glowing crimson eyes bored into her, and as hard as she fought, she still couldn’t stop. Shakily, her hand made a deep slash in her wrist, then slowly continued up her forearm. “Stop,” she muttered, then screamed out. “Stop!”
Miraculously the faca clattered to the floor, and she grasped her bloody arm tightly. Viciously glaring at the villainess, she stood, but instantly became nauseous, leaning against the mural for support. “Have fun,” Chelsea muttered, stepping out of the shed.
Slumping to the ground, Kyra’s breathing shallowed, her heartbeat slowing. A pair of boots came up to her vision and she glanced up to see Revenge calling out. To her, it was like an old movie: black and white, with no sound. Painfully she accepted unconsciousness, her last thought being Forgive me.
P.S.: I need one sentence, from any artigo Fin's been in (doesn't matter if it's mine, yours, or another person), that shows her relationship with the other OC's and her other friends. Message any sentences you find straight to me. :3
Alias: Arwin
Age: 16
Occupation/Alliance: Hero
Appearance: Long black hair, laranja eyes, 5' 5"
Powers/skills/weapons: powers over the element earth, martial arts, and her family heir loom (a magic staff)
Personality: Withdrawn, optimistic, kind, brave, courageous, shy, cynical, hard-working, loyal
History: After being given into the care of her grandparents without warning Lana's parents mysteriously went missing. Lana discovered their family heir loom when she went looking for her parents a ano later. She took the heir loom into her possesion after leitura a note left with the heir loom por her parents. When she was fifteen she left her grandparents to train her powers. After training for three years and discovering many things Lana returned to her grandparent's house to find them gone. From that point on Lana decided that secrets only killed people rather than kept the safe.