God gave you style and gave you grace
Characters: Grace/Aideen Storm (chaostorm)
Date/Time: Oct 3, post-snake incident
Location: Section 1 Housing
Rating: PG
Summary: The snake attack sends Grace into a bout of thinking. And complaining. And pouting. And determination.
------
It was a rare moment in Grace's short existence in Edensphere that she truly stopped to wonder about the place. She lay on her Section One bed and stared at the ceiling. Her brown eyes bored holes into the shoddily-made thing. Why... She closed her eyes. She had run off to help with Dash's announcement of the situation. She had felt the call and had followed, yet... Her eyes opened.
She couldn't do anything. She froze at the scene. Nothing had come.
Grace let out a sigh. Storm. She could remember that. Serenity had mentioned a man with that name. He would know. He could explain the issue. Storm. Her eyes closed as she breathed slowly. Storm had to know. How else could he explain the Stairway to the Apprentice Scavenger? It was the only way. He had to know. Her mind drifted from a shadowy figure her mind summoned to represent Storm to the weapon's stall. They had all sorts of things for those types but nothing for her. Nothing to trigger anything inside her to come into full bloom.
The woman sat up, purple hair tumbling around her shoulders, midway between violet and crimson. She didn't want to admit her weakness. She couldn't. She wasn't sure how much the others had bought it, but keeping innocents away had hidden her lack of power easily.
Frustration ran through her faster than a wildfire. It didn't make sense. She had power. She could remember calling it forth from her dream. She could remember teasing that man about it. Grace's eyes narrowed.
"It makes no sense. Why is it that I cannot do it?" She examined her hands. She had been holding something in her dream. Small knives - no, that was inaccurate. It was something else. She knew she had an inner fire. The sense had never truly vanished, but she had presumed most had it. That sort of thing, the people here were far from normal after all, was to be expected, right?
She rubbed her temples.
What would it cost her to remember her power? Her specialty? The reason she had run to the fight, ignorant of her own lack of ability? She frowned and flopped back onto her bed, hair nearly completely crimson.
"I will not be one of the weak." She announced to no one in particular. "I refuse." A pout crossed her face. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't she have done anything? She could have been of use! But no. She had to stay behind and keep idiots from getting into the fight! She could have been useful!
Grace rolled onto her side, glaring at the wall. The only way she could try figure this out would be to find that Storm. He would know what was going on. It was really her only option. She could feel it! She could. But... Her left hand raised into her field of vision. But she had to figure out how to get the fire that seemed to burn at her fingertips to express itself.
Date/Time: Oct 3, post-snake incident
Location: Section 1 Housing
Rating: PG
Summary: The snake attack sends Grace into a bout of thinking. And complaining. And pouting. And determination.
------
It was a rare moment in Grace's short existence in Edensphere that she truly stopped to wonder about the place. She lay on her Section One bed and stared at the ceiling. Her brown eyes bored holes into the shoddily-made thing. Why... She closed her eyes. She had run off to help with Dash's announcement of the situation. She had felt the call and had followed, yet... Her eyes opened.
She couldn't do anything. She froze at the scene. Nothing had come.
Grace let out a sigh. Storm. She could remember that. Serenity had mentioned a man with that name. He would know. He could explain the issue. Storm. Her eyes closed as she breathed slowly. Storm had to know. How else could he explain the Stairway to the Apprentice Scavenger? It was the only way. He had to know. Her mind drifted from a shadowy figure her mind summoned to represent Storm to the weapon's stall. They had all sorts of things for those types but nothing for her. Nothing to trigger anything inside her to come into full bloom.
The woman sat up, purple hair tumbling around her shoulders, midway between violet and crimson. She didn't want to admit her weakness. She couldn't. She wasn't sure how much the others had bought it, but keeping innocents away had hidden her lack of power easily.
Frustration ran through her faster than a wildfire. It didn't make sense. She had power. She could remember calling it forth from her dream. She could remember teasing that man about it. Grace's eyes narrowed.
"It makes no sense. Why is it that I cannot do it?" She examined her hands. She had been holding something in her dream. Small knives - no, that was inaccurate. It was something else. She knew she had an inner fire. The sense had never truly vanished, but she had presumed most had it. That sort of thing, the people here were far from normal after all, was to be expected, right?
She rubbed her temples.
What would it cost her to remember her power? Her specialty? The reason she had run to the fight, ignorant of her own lack of ability? She frowned and flopped back onto her bed, hair nearly completely crimson.
"I will not be one of the weak." She announced to no one in particular. "I refuse." A pout crossed her face. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't she have done anything? She could have been of use! But no. She had to stay behind and keep idiots from getting into the fight! She could have been useful!
Grace rolled onto her side, glaring at the wall. The only way she could try figure this out would be to find that Storm. He would know what was going on. It was really her only option. She could feel it! She could. But... Her left hand raised into her field of vision. But she had to figure out how to get the fire that seemed to burn at her fingertips to express itself.