Lotus Blossom

Astra reached out her hand to him. "This could've ended better." She tilted her head, almost playfully. "But it could've ended much worse." Her smile pained her face. This was what she wanted, wasn't it? Was her love for Mark stronger than her love for freedom? She was grounded, and now, firmly on land. She was filled with what many wish to achieve. But could a Willshaper ever sacrifice flight? "I'll find you one of these days, Corin."

Astra gave him a resigned smile. "I have seen the worlds in many shades," it was true, what she said. "I wish to see the canvas, the colors. I wish to wield the paintbrush." She shrugged, contentedly, "But my ship has sailed, Corin." "I've landed." She turned over her shoulder to make out the outline of Mark in the distance.

"Play it risky and you might get an unlucky hand," Astra smiled, "It's always safer being the dealer." Astra dragged loose strands of hair away from her eyes. "I never escaped any chains," she said breathily, "Though I believed I did. I called the binds others imposed on me my own to live my self-restricting fantasy, I suppose." She held eye contact with Corin. "There is more power in identifying your limits and being caught in them than being ignorant of chains but free."

"It depends." She glanced about. "Where are you going now?" She said when she turned back to him, voice softening.

"Someone's hurt," Astra clenched her fist behind her back, smiling coldly into Corin's eyes.

Astra raised an eyebrow. "So that's where your priorities stand?" She took a step forward. "I didn't realize you cared so much about them," she scoffed.

"It's been a while since the casino, hasn't it?" Her face shaped into a tight smile, eyes stone.

As she wandered about the newly reunited, breathing in the new life waiting for her with Mark, she paused. There was something lingering in the back of her mind that had to be dealt with. No regrets. She filled herself with self-assuredness and assumed her regular demeanor to go approach the traitor. Astra approached quietly, savoring the moment's tense silence, before speaking. "Corin?" @Edema Rue

oh wait for a final post? did @The Stormfather have a grand finale yet? bc astra's will very much link with his

"You mustn't. The games were filled with unspoken favors. We'll start anew today." Astra gently tightened her clasp on his hand and then loosened, assuring him of something she didn't know herself.

Astra watched with dull, scowling eyes as Kayra retreated joyfully into the crowd, joining her newer acquaintances who she would, someday, dispose of apathetically. She raised an eyebrow at Aeryn, who lightly bowed her head, the corner of her mouth twisting into a knowing smile. "Till we meet again, my dearest. You are a true Ay daughter, carry the name with pride," Aeryn twinkled. She left on her own terms, fading into the shadows of her own high-end crowd. Astra grit her teeth and didn't ease until they had both gone. This wasn't the welcome she had dreamed of. She thought the worst outcome was if no one came for her, so why did it hurt more when people did? She locked eyes with Mark, seeking comfort in his gaze. "We'll find somewhere for us," she repeated. She held his hand, "Let's go with the rebels. Let's go together. No one else must die again." She smiled weakly, looking about the ruins and debris. "We may not have a home in a place, but we'll have one in each other." A weighty promise from a Willshaper like her. But this time, it didn't feel like lying.

Astra cradled Mark's head in her arms as she pressed the flower into him, spilling endless light from the petals. She lightly trailed her nails through his hair, then toyed with the hem of his clothes. They were so close to freedom when he was so close to death. All the other tributes had everything to fight for, but there was nothing waiting for Mark and Astra. They led dark lives, and their sacrifice repelled all. It was hard enough to cling to each other, trembling from the future. It was hard enough. "Astra?" a salted, deeper voice called out. Astra looked up from Mark to see a tanned, almost reptilian skinned girl about her age with dark oiled hair in thick coils that cascaded down her shoulders. Her lips were unnaturally red and her eyes caught the gold of the sun. They were squinted, not from light, but from what used to be humor. Now, they seemed more to be filled with sweet nostalgia. The mirth once in her light smirk was gone, and replaced by the friendliness of shared triumph. After the shock of her shining beauty faded, Astra could make out the points of struggle and vulnerability. Her curves were full but tilted, as if limping. Her skin had suffered scars and a gash stained her right eyebrow with blood. Kayra. Kayra had come back. Kayra had come back to save her. The girl smiled warmly, but it made Astra uneasy, as if Kayra had listened carefully to her thoughts. She approached where Astra was sitting, holding Mark. Astra remained wary. I have battled for so long in these games. I will not fall again. Not for this. Not for her. Kayra held out a hand, but Astra wouldn't take it. "I heard you went to the games," Kayra began, almost as a coo, "These arenas are slaughterhouses. When a rebellion was trying to be organized, I thought, if Astra were in my place, she would do it too." She winked. Astra stung with bitterness. Those were the same words Kayra had said after the betrayal. If you were in my place, you would do it too. She said that after she left her. How could she come back like this? Repeating those words? "I wouldn't," Astra whispered. "I suppose we'll never be sure," Kayra smiled, retracting her hand when she accepted that Astra wouldn't take it, "But I did. I came back for you to set you free." "I set myself free," Astra snarled. "I fought against the peacemakers to break open the gate," Kayra shook her head, almost condescendingly, but from a good place. Astra did not doubt that it was from a good place. Still, she was sour, for some unknown reason. She clung to the past. "I got the first gate open, I could've opened the second. I fought for my freedom, and they fought for theirs too," Astra nodded to the other tributes, "And they fought for mine. Whatever saving you've convinced yourself you did, it was too late, and too useless. We fought our way out. We sacrificed ourselves. There is no one here braver than these tributes," Astra looked at Mark, "He would've kept fighting until he died if only for us." Kayra scoffed, "You're right. You wouldn't have come for me. You flit about from place to place, person to person, with no true ground. Obsessed with gambling, liquor, bets, auctions. Your heart and moral compass belongs to the black market. It's who you are Astra. You've always been selfish. It's in your blood." Kayra looked over her shoulder, "Speaking of, there is someone here you should meet." An older woman stepped forward. Her long hair was pinned up in a silky bun with a ceramic flower. She presented herself neatly, but in her face burned a fire of defiance, the same fire that raged through Astra's eyes. Her face had smile lines and frown lines, freckles and scars. She seemed frail yet strong. She seemed to be held captive by a young spirit. "Astra..." she said, almost trying the word on her lips, "Do you know me?" She didn't. And she didn't have the energy to continue this uncomfortable conversation. "Astra," the woman repeated, more insistently this time. The woman was persistent and firm, just like her. "No," Astra replied curtly. "Aeryn," the woman said, lost in space. After a pause she turned back, "Do you know the name?" "I haven't heard of an Aeryn, ma'am." "Your father truly was a mess after your mother died," the woman shook her head with displease. "My father?" "Yes, the artist and drunkard. He wasn't always sick and crazy, you know. Before he met your weak mother, he was a fine gentleman." "Did you know him then?" Astra's fingers clasped Mark's for stability. "Why, my dear. He was my son." The woman smiled crookedly. Astra's jaw clenched. "Did you know I was alive?" Astra demanded. "Yes, always." "Why didn't you take care of me?" tears slid down her face, "I was a child. I was told I had no one left. That my entire family was gone. My father always told me, before he went insane, that his mother didn't know who his father was. He told me my grandmother had died and that my birth was the cause of my mother's death. He told me I had no one, and then he left. Where were you?" Astra raised her voice. "I was watching," Aeryn replied politely. "Watching for WHAT? Watching to see what it would take for a young teenage girl alone in the world to break?" "You didn't break," Aeryn comforted her, "You were quite successful, really. You owned most of the casinos, and world hopped everywhere. A true storyteller." "WHY DIDN'T YOU WANT ME? You should've been there earlier, not now." "We all should've done many things, but I wasn't going to lose another Ay girl to the games." "Another?" Astra narrowed her eyes. "My twin sister. Amyra Ay. She wasn't like us. I was hot tempered when she was kind. She was selfless, a Windrunner. You were born to be a Willshaper though, Astra. You were born to survive." Astra used the back of her hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She embraced Aeryn, then shifted gaze to Kayra. She extended a hand and Kayra shook it, but a moment later, they too were holding each other tight, as if this moment was the last. "I can't go back with you," she said as she pulled away. "Either of you."

YAY ORANGE ORANGUTANS UNITE let's... make a pm ig? also how are we dealing with genres are they assigned or chosen haha mb we alr had a pm i just was blind

don't look at me i am very lost

Astra, glanced about through the bloodbath, watching the stampede of tributes flood the gate. Alone, quiet, for a moment, she released her blade. She peered through the opening of the gate, now that the battle had moved on, suffocating in the corridor. From the corner of her eye she saw an injured peacekeeper stagger towards her, weapon in hand. She scoffed and pushed herself through the gate with a snarl. And what she saw on the other side was absolute chaos. Ten heartbeats. Rivia, the fight isn't over yet.

Quickly, she transported herself to the gate with Light. It was rage dripping from her now. Astra nodded firmly and gripped her shardblade. With the constant flow of stormlight from the flower, she used her power to wrench the gate. I need to do this. She whispered through gritted teeth. I need to do this for everyone. The gate wouldn't cut open at first. I'm doing something wrong. No. It would work. She would swing again. Sweat and blood slicked down her muscles as she wielded Rivia. Nothing is right. Nothing is fair. So sometimes, you have to cheat at cards to win the set. The dust and pain obstructed her view. Her thoughts clouded her pounding mind. And still. And yet. Her nails clawing into the hilt of the blade. And with the last blow, the gate swung open. "Mark!" She called. She wanted him out, she wanted him safe. But with the new light, he was the safest of them all. He had to stay behind just a bit longer. Those injured had to get out. How she wanted to call for him to leave through the opening in the gate. But it wasn't right. There were others among them. "Mark," she continued shouting, "Get everyone out! I'll follow you!" She spun around to defend against another peacekeeper. She wasn't selfless. This wasn't self-sacrafice. But there was nothing waiting for her. And now, she wanted a certain person to lose his bet. Was she selfish for wanting to be remembered as strong?

Astra glanced back, her arm already sore from skillfully maneuvering her blade across the battlefield in a tight dance to the death. Without her plate, she felt heavier and beaten down, but adrenaline and defiance powered her swiftly forward against and around the peacekeepers. She wouldn't let them, or any one else, chain her down and restrain her spirit. She was a Willshaper, after all. When Mark charged for attack, she took her cue to dart in another direction and catch them by surprise, slicing limbs and dodging swings. She had forgotten what it was like to fight. She called upon skills she taught herself underground in bar fights or casino squabbles. She forgot what it was to fight against her own death, and breathe in the true worth of life, feeling the bloody dust fill her lungs. She kept a moment's look at Mark, to ensure his safety. But now, now that she was carried away, when she glanced back Mark seemed depleted and in critical condition. She used transportation to pull herself to him as quick as she could. "Mark-" she grabbed his shoulder, supporting his trembling body, "Here." She pressed the flower filled with stormlight to him.

AH i wish but my schedule is very packed i don't know if i'd have the time to do it

A hand flashed to her mouth, and she grabbed Mark's arm, using her right hand to summon her shardblade. It came quickly. She must've been nervous.

"He... Well, if he doesn't escape, he's also going to get killed. Whoever made that thing that took control of him... well, their not going to be happy he's free. I'd bet that in a few minutes a peacekeeper strike team with allomancers, surgebinders and Ruin knows what else is going to burst into the arena and slaughter us all. If we have that little time remaining, I don't know who to trust. But I sure as hell am willing to go down a staircase and get off of the platform with absolutely zero cover where we're rusting vulnerable to attack!" Mark raises his voice, then quickly looks embarrassed. "Sorry. This place... It's getting to me." "Let's," Astra glanced about worriedly, "Let's just go." She stared at Corin. "We'll talk when this whole thing is over," she said briskly, though her eyes lingered on his for a moment longer. @Edema Rue

"Look who showed up," Astra scowled. "No," Astra said quickly, grabbing Mark anxiously, "Why do you trust him?"

"That's a hard promise to keep," Astra smiled bitterly, looking over at Tinker.