I will always find you {WT, Lyndis}

[Sleepy Fluttershy]

Florence Karmickelle.

Many people dream of silence and claim it is poetic. There is something powerful in it, this is unquestionable. However, Florence always found more comfort in the buzzing afternoon crowds in her district. Quiet means alone while noisy gives a person the wonderful feeling of safety and sympathy.

And she smiles as she keeps walking along the street that led to her house. She could be with her father and sister soon - the neighbour who babysits Val is probably waiting for her to take the baby back already. The girl speeds up and rushes to her destination, thinking of her toddler sister's sweetest smile and adorable speaking attempts.

However, when she runs into her neighbour's door, the kid is nowhere to be found. The woman smiles softly and tells Florence that there is nothing to worry about, one of her children has just gone to bring the little girl back home. Florence counts the minutes that could have passed since that occurred and rushes to her house immediately. This is the time when her father usually begins his drinking routine. If he accidentally does anything to her sister... But it is her fault. She knows her neighbour can only keep the kid until two o'clock and then she has to work. She shouldn't have been late - five minutes of talking to her friends make all the difference.

As soon as she jumps onto the porch, she understands that all her worst fears have come true. The door is wide open. Her father is sitting on the chair with his mind long drowned in the bottle and the baby crib is empty. Val is nowhere to be found. And her dad can't help her find the little girl in this pitiful state.

So the only thing left to do is run out into the street and run around, screaming, hoping to hear a sound of a toddler chattering.

"Val!"

But her desperate yell is left unanswered.

"Val!"

Where are you, sis?

[WT]

"Are you sure you don't want some tea before you go?" Mahdi's mother asks over her shoulder as she disappears around the corner to catch the whistling kettle.

Mahdi catches your eye. The two of you rush through a wordless conversation, with you quirking one shoulder and him waving his head back and forth, until you call back "Sorry Mrs. Zaman, my family is expecting me!" in what you hope passes for a reasonable time frame. It's a blatant lie—unless you specifically plan otherwise, your family never expects you home until dinner—but also a tried and true excuse.

"If you're sure!"

You return the thumbs-up Mahdi gives you and wave off the sheepish smile. At the end of the day, being on friendly terms doesn't actually make you friends; he has no obligation to want a tutor to stick around longer. Anyway, for all you know he has other plans or simply needs some time alone or has some other reason that has nothing to do with you. It's not like he's shoving you out the door; you chit-chat amiably—say hi to your sisters, let me know if you want me to look at this again before you turn it in, wow isn't the weather getting nicer this month—as you finish packing your notebooks and he walks you out.

As soon as the door clicks closed, you press the heels of your hands against your eyes. It's been a rough month, living on three or four scattered hours of sleep each night and crashing for so long on the weekends that you wake up with your mouth dry and your head aching. Momentum keeps you upright, but in the moments when you finish a task or find yourself suddenly alone, it becomes difficult to ignore how heavy every part of your body feels.

You haven't been standing like that long, a handful of breaths at most, when an unexpected noise distracts you. You lift your head and blink to clear your eyes, but only a still street meets them. For a moment, you're unsure that you heard anything at all. Then it comes again, a little clearer: "Val!"

Well. That doesn't sound good, but it is something to focus on. You run a half-conscious nervous hand through your hair and shrug your slipping bag more securely onto your shoulder, then set out, walking cautiously at first as you judge the direction and picking up speed as you go.

You find the source a short way down the next street: a young girl with a cloud of bright red hair and terror in her voice. Even without the screams, panic radiates off of her; she's running, but fitfully, more like looking for her goal than chasing one. Whoever Val is, they're nowhere in sight.

"Hey!" Not wanting to charge her down, you wave as conspicuously as you can, only breaking into a gentle jog once it looks like she's noticed you. When you're close enough to talk without yelling, you pull back down to a walk. "Do you want help?"

[Lyn𝛿is]

[Googlefont="Calligraffitti"]

Lithe Stront

In the northernmost reaches of the fair realm of Panem, there lies a land known to its inhabitants only as District Six - a land where the summers are wet and the winters long, and the rising sprawl of the Institute towers above all of us, cloaking the landscape with the sharp winds of mystery.

A boy stands against those winds, spurred into action by their tantalizing scent. Ducking inside the old, squat bell tower of the Institute, the seemingly ordinary boy sheds the disguise of his civilian clothes. Donning a colorful mask, dark tracksuit and scarlet cape, the boy transforms, unlocking the full extent of his mental powers. The tireless investigator of mysteries, the unerring seeker of truth and justice - he is The Crimson Flame, a being equipped to fight in the endless battle between Good and Evil.

Undeterred by the settling twilight, he prowls the streets that encircle the Institute, his heightened navigational senses taking him along cobblestone paths familiar beneath his feet, when suddenly -

"Val!"

- his ears pick up on a young maiden's cry of distress, about a block to the west. He makes a beeline toward the source of the call, and finds a girl running down the street, voice laced in fear.

Perhaps she has gotten lost, or has been beset by some dastardly villain; regardless of the circumstances, he will take it as his duty to save her. He sizes up the unknown man waving at her from the other side of the intersection. Will the man become a trusted ally, or his destined nemesis?

"Hey! Do you want -"

"Fear not, fair damsel!" He reaches out his hand, his cape billowing in the evening wind. "I am the Crimson Flame, and I have come to render my assistance!"

Sleepy Fluttershy WT