➹.11
[When Alleria woke up this morning, the first thing she noticed was that there were a lot of new pieces of furniture in her room. They were familiar, though, and upon closer inspection, she realizes that they are Turalyon's. But this isn't Turalyon's room, so ... did that mean he had moved all this in here in the middle of the night? With the help of the castle, surely.
Grunting, she pulls her journal out and jots a quick filter to him.]
[Turalyon]
This is presumptuous of you, General. At least come to my quarters to discuss it, yes?
We have other things to discuss, anyway.
[/filter]
[Alleria hadn't seen Turalyon in over a month.
At first, it was because she was too busy finding ways to exact revenge upon Arthas. And then, after their defeat at his and Riful's hands, she'd been too embarrassed by her failure, and that she'd allowed her desire for vengeance get the better of her again.
The furniture in her room was too much, though, and if this was his way of saying he'd like to see her again, well, she'd take it. But he'd taken too long to show up at her room, or even respond to her filter for that matter, and Alleria Windrunner did not enjoy being ignored.
And so, she strolls up the eight floors that separate them, intent on giving the Paladin a piece of her mind. How dare he be so presumptuous as to fill her room with his things in the dead of night, and then even refuse to give her the common courtesy of a response --
It's when she sees that there is no nameplate in front of his door that what has actually happened hits her.
Alleria's heart thrums loudly in her ears, until it's the only thing she can hear, and she has to place an unsteady hand on the solid wood of the door -- no longer Turalyon's door, just a door -- to keep her knees from just collapsing under her.
He'd told her, on Draenor. He would never leave her. Never --
And now this castle, this place --
And Turalyon went back. Back to the portal storm, back to the dimensional rift.
Back to die.
And she was to stay here. She was to stay in this damned place while he died, alone, and without her. This place was their last chance at happiness together, and now --
Now ...
Swallowing hard, Alleria slips her shaking hands into the satchel at her side, producing her journal.
The following is written, the letters slanted with effort.]
High General Turalyon is gone.
[That done, she simply closes the book and lets it tumble from her fingers to the floor, striding resolutely back down the stairs, through the lobby, out the door, through the castle grounds, into the woods. If anyone greets her, she will pay them no mind and just continue on, her pace never faltering, even as she scales a tree.
Only once she's high enough, sure that she's hidden among the familiar safety of limbs and branches, does Alleria cover her face and allow herself to weep.]
[ooc. she's not responding to journaltiems, but feel free to respond anyway I GUESS? also open in person, if you're uhhhh into that ;;]
Grunting, she pulls her journal out and jots a quick filter to him.]
[Turalyon]
This is presumptuous of you, General. At least come to my quarters to discuss it, yes?
We have other things to discuss, anyway.
[/filter]
[Alleria hadn't seen Turalyon in over a month.
At first, it was because she was too busy finding ways to exact revenge upon Arthas. And then, after their defeat at his and Riful's hands, she'd been too embarrassed by her failure, and that she'd allowed her desire for vengeance get the better of her again.
The furniture in her room was too much, though, and if this was his way of saying he'd like to see her again, well, she'd take it. But he'd taken too long to show up at her room, or even respond to her filter for that matter, and Alleria Windrunner did not enjoy being ignored.
And so, she strolls up the eight floors that separate them, intent on giving the Paladin a piece of her mind. How dare he be so presumptuous as to fill her room with his things in the dead of night, and then even refuse to give her the common courtesy of a response --
It's when she sees that there is no nameplate in front of his door that what has actually happened hits her.
Alleria's heart thrums loudly in her ears, until it's the only thing she can hear, and she has to place an unsteady hand on the solid wood of the door -- no longer Turalyon's door, just a door -- to keep her knees from just collapsing under her.
He'd told her, on Draenor. He would never leave her. Never --
And now this castle, this place --
And Turalyon went back. Back to the portal storm, back to the dimensional rift.
Back to die.
And she was to stay here. She was to stay in this damned place while he died, alone, and without her. This place was their last chance at happiness together, and now --
Now ...
Swallowing hard, Alleria slips her shaking hands into the satchel at her side, producing her journal.
The following is written, the letters slanted with effort.]
High General Turalyon is gone.
[That done, she simply closes the book and lets it tumble from her fingers to the floor, striding resolutely back down the stairs, through the lobby, out the door, through the castle grounds, into the woods. If anyone greets her, she will pay them no mind and just continue on, her pace never faltering, even as she scales a tree.
Only once she's high enough, sure that she's hidden among the familiar safety of limbs and branches, does Alleria cover her face and allow herself to weep.]
[ooc. she's not responding to journaltiems, but feel free to respond anyway I GUESS? also open in person, if you're uhhhh into that ;;]