Member Spotlight award goes to Daedalus, who is just fantastic in every sense of the word! Always one for interesting and exciting plots, Dae is a long time player here at CWM and one we're always happy to see hanging around in the chat. He handles some very interesting characters, so be be sure to track him down and demand some of the most fun threads! Also, Dae for President!
Lying had come easily to the woman over the vast millennia of her existence. Everything about her identity and existence had been a lie since the moment she emerged from the painful process that Y D'draig Goch had subjected her to. Tyr Vanth had grown accustomed to lies and deceit, and often justified her actions by merely placing herself in the paws of a lion in sheep's clothing. Without that deception she would be outed, and unable to influence the herd to her own ends. Shepherds would swoop in the moment she got close, and she'd be relegated to picking off weaklings and the sick.
Emilia had forgotten what lying felt like. The way that it caused one's heart to beat a few steps faster, and the sour taste the words left in her mouth. Deceiving Faith had reminded her. The first had come early, earlier than any truths that were given. Faith believed Emilia to be her maternal aunt rather than primeval being who'd mothered her bloodline. The subsequent had come in every word of mourning that slithered out from between Emilia's lips. Yet, Tyr Vanth would be remiss to say that no small part of her was joyed to learn of the death of John Khorun. His very existence had been a clear and present danger to Faith and her child, and while she hadn't wanted life to evacuate him part of her knew that death was the only solution.
Though lies had been an integral part of Emilia's existence, she hadn't lied about being concerned for the woman she considered as a daughter. Every one of her many offers of hospitality and safe harbor had been honored; Faith needed a safe port in the storm that Khorun's death and Robbie's evacuation of her life had conjured. A snort flared the woman's nostrils at the thought of anyone abandoning one of her daughters because they weren't enough. Even the woman's driver turned back to regard his employer, but quickly refocused on the road once he realized that the pointed look she offered was for him.
Should Robbie Rider ever return to earth, his visit would be as short as it was igneous.
Ruminations of vengeance hadn't been her reason to appear at Faith's step in the middle of the night, however. Emilia had grown worried for the woman's health in the weeks since she took up residence in the house that Robbie constructed to be her home. Thankfully the curse that she was preparing to sour the property hadn't been completed, else that bit of magic would have surely been the capstone of a rather wretched year. Instead the material components would be devoted to ensuring Robbie's sojourn among the stars was fraught with bad luck. Perhaps even death. Curses were a costly thing to perform, and to simply abandon one so close to completion was a crime in and of itself.
Another snort rumbled from Emilia's nose as the limousine pulled into Faith's driveway; for the second time in as many minutes she'd forced her mind off of a tangent that it threatened to follow. Perhaps age was finally catching up to her. As the long drive came to an end at the foot of Faith's porch she finally got a good look at the beautiful woman that she had loved so fiercely, and her heart sank. Gaunt cheeks. Slimmed curves. Blonde hair. Had Tyr Vanth not also forgotten how to weep, surely her eyes would be filled with tears. Rather than tears, however, her face adopted a look of soft sympathy. It was an expression that few had ever seen, and only in sarcasm.
Once the door had been opened for her and Emilia stepped out, Faith would have seen the impeccable steve madden long sleeved shirt and dark chinos, as well as the designer purse. Louie Vitton, this time. Who had the time to worry over what handbag was hooked into her elbow, however? There was pain in the house before her. Pain that she meant to assuage.
"My dear, you dyed your hair. Blonde is a good color on you," her tasteful smile became more visible as she approached. Faith sat on the steps of her porch, so Emilia was quick to do the same, "how are the two best ladies in New York finding their new home?" No need to delve into the heavy stuff until Faith decided to go there. Months had passed since John's demise, and while Emilia hadn't ever truly known love she'd seen what it did to survivors all too often.
"I'm here to help, darling. Anything you want or need, all you have to do is ask. Even if all you want to do is sit here in silence, for a spell."