gather courage to return x leon|reaction|sortofopen

[анзие (Anz)]

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the devil may cry at the end of the night

[attr="class","anziescroll"] It- wasn't Nat. It wasn't Nat's name ringing across the grounds, and Leon's knees are weak from the sheer relief that pulls him powerfully into sweet emotion burning in the corners of his eyes, and Leon's hands curl tight around the handle of his chair. The two names: Alexis Rhondal and Yucca Ephedra. They echo still, ringing Alexis Rhondal and Yucca Ephedra - names that ring dim in the back of some old, forgotten memory - he knows them, maybe. Knows them now, anyway, swimming in the same dead sea they were left in to drown. The same dead sea that harbors years and years of victims, twenty three for the past sixty-eight years and that amounts to hundreds, that bursts through into the thousands. Bodies in salted liquid sinking far, far down below into murky darkness where phantom hands can reach for the living's feet. Twenty-three more every year. But this year, it would not be his brother. Relief. Sheer relief, that's what the emotion is. Give me the courage to return, Leon thinks, and sees his dear brother's solemn eyes amid the crowd. Their gazes meet, and Nat offers a smile that is on the verge of snapping into the same emotion that threatens to overwhelm Leon now. Leon wishes he has the time to talk to him, say goodbye - properly. Give me the courage. He sees Finn, but Finn isn't looking; his gaze stays straight ahead - tall, proud, and Leon thinks he knows why. Are you trying to look for them in the mess? Finn will leave him, someday. Won't he? Zeus- Where is he? He's just a little dizzy, a little strange but it's okay. It's okay. He has to believe that this is okay. He searches the crowd for Arissa, his twin, and she stands tall and strong and dominant in the dozens of hunched shoulders and weary eyes; when they were younger they used to play at being able to read each other's minds. He would touch with extreme care her temples and she would do the same; they would rest their foreheads on the other's, fixed gazes so firm on each other that Leon knew all the shades of blue that made up the unique color of his sister's eyes - that Leon was completely and utterly certain of her. Certain that she would be forever his twin, at his side - his equal. His equal, none less. They've never been so distant in their life. When did we grow so far apart? Like she shares the same thought (or hears me, he thinks with some childish hope) her gaze flickers up to his, and Leon thinks, Blue, blue eyes. Her lips flicker up in the tiniest little smile, and Leon feels his shoulders drop with the relief that comes with knowing without a single doubt that someone has his back. Give me the courage, 'Riss.

[attr="class","anzieside"] [attr="class","anziehover"] leon krigel victor of the 67th games i’ll be as honest as you’ll let me i miss your early morning company

Feel free to hop in I guess