[ the sea of worlds is vast and deep, easy to drown in. But to Bernkastel, it isn't threatening at all. It's more like a refuge, one with infinite paths of escape from boredom. So, when she opens her eyes, it only takes her a moment to orient herself to the familiar scene around her.
She stays quiet for a while, simply observing the glow of the fragments drifting by. The sea has no physical properties, yet it feels like she just walked out of a prison door into the clear-lit air outside for the first time in a century. Of course, her enforced stay on that world with its suffocating Mist hadn't been that long, but... a cage is a cage to one accustomed to going and leaving when she pleased.
And that thought had barely taken form — when Bernkastel realizes she isn't alone. Something — no, someone — else is here.
Her breath hisses through gritted teeth when she spots it. Her. That discordant presence who shines far too brightly in this darkness. Bernkastel stares into that face which is too much like her own, and she feels the earlier calm shatter underneath the weight of anger and too many memories. ]
... Still here? For someone who claims to despise me, you seem very determined to follow me around.
[ after those months in Anatole, the instinct to flee has almost vanished. But when Bernkastel feels her nails digging into her palms, she knows it's not completely gone.
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She stays quiet for a while, simply observing the glow of the fragments drifting by. The sea has no physical properties, yet it feels like she just walked out of a prison door into the clear-lit air outside for the first time in a century. Of course, her enforced stay on that world with its suffocating Mist hadn't been that long, but... a cage is a cage to one accustomed to going and leaving when she pleased.
And that thought had barely taken form — when Bernkastel realizes she isn't alone. Something — no, someone — else is here.
Her breath hisses through gritted teeth when she spots it. Her. That discordant presence who shines far too brightly in this darkness. Bernkastel stares into that face which is too much like her own, and she feels the earlier calm shatter underneath the weight of anger and too many memories. ]
... Still here? For someone who claims to despise me, you seem very determined to follow me around.
[ after those months in Anatole, the instinct to flee has almost vanished. But when Bernkastel feels her nails digging into her palms, she knows it's not completely gone.
Just disappear. Just drown. ]