#mv; kaida; the shadows speak

[multiplanetarysystem]

//Working on a ref for it, but Kaida has...a lot of scars in the places she keeps covered normally. Most of them are burn scars shaped like claw wounds, left by the White Goddess' creations. She doesn't exactly hide them, per say, but considering most of her ONS partners never see her again afterwards? She doesn't exactly worry about getting hit with awkward questions.

She wouldn't make any decision that led to them differently, however. Kaida earned them while fighting for the future of her people, a future she knows she won't see fully.

[multiplanetarysystem]

"...You act like you've never seen white hair before. Could you stop staring, please?"

[multiplanetarysystem]

"...Why are you looking at me like that???"

[multiplanetarysystem]

Two Truths and a Lie: Khaida's Deepest Fear, Fondest Memory, and Favorite Animal!

[Going with Kaida, since she’s the version on this blog!]

1. Deepest Fear: I’m afraid of running out of time.

2. Fondest Memory: Hmm...when Ni and I managed to get to the top of Tokyo Tower. Like, past where people are actually allowed.

3. I love cats. A lot. They’re warm and fluffy and great for cuddles!

[multiplanetarysystem]

She woke in a cold sweat. The man she’d crashed with the night before was already gone, a fact she was thankful for as her hands went to her throat, making sure it was still intact as her breaths came in quick, shallow movements. It was fine, she was fine, it had just been another vision. Another glimpse at the fate that awaited her. She heard a whine, a whimper, as Uigite dragged himself out of her shadow. The shadow-beast nudged her tear-stained face, worry in the noises he made.

“I know...I know it’s...it’s not the now. But...” She started crying again, burying her face in her arms as she curled up in the unfamiliar bed. It was another half hour before she could drag herself out, getting dressed in her clothes from the night before. Uigite retreated back into her shadow, into his little realm, and then she moved to face the morning.

She had too much to do, and her time grew shorter and shorter...

[multiplanetarysystem]

The small woman has the hood of her cloak drawn up, hands on the strap of a satchel worn crossbody, making her way to...somwhere. And muttering under her breath in the way of someone less than happy that they’re doing anything. Good hearing would let someone catch snippets of ‘Christmas’ and ‘why me’.