[It is difficult to tell how old this newly birthed aion is until one has gotten close. Though womanly curves have been blunted by a naturally petite form compounded with poverty and malnourishment, there is a hint to be found from the front, despite the fact that the sight comes with the discerningly large scars splashed across her torso- one above her heart, one straight through her sternum, and another more over her stomach. Though her body looks haggard, skin sallow and expression haggard, there is potential for vibrancy, in her hair and her eyes… perhaps a young woman in her second decade of… a rough life.
One who looks up to find another woman crouching in front of her, reaching out…]
Where-
[Her voice is uncommonly low and raspy, but the words are interrupted by a sudden cough, a wet inhale as she chokes on a bit of fluid from her “chrysalis”. The cough seems to take all the energy out of her, it leaves her panting, until she finally can reach back, groping for support heedless of her nakedness.
Doing so reveals the only remaining injury on her body, two fingers crooked and obviously broken. Not the bruised up, mangled swelling of an accident- the calculated, man-made snap of delicate bones designed to make even the more reticent of subjects talk.]
Where am I… ?
[This place is so bright with crystal and reflections that it hurts her eyes, she can’t tell, but there is something absent, a painful pulse of power she is afraid to feel that means the one thing she needs to know is-]
no subject
One who looks up to find another woman crouching in front of her, reaching out…]
Where-
[Her voice is uncommonly low and raspy, but the words are interrupted by a sudden cough, a wet inhale as she chokes on a bit of fluid from her “chrysalis”. The cough seems to take all the energy out of her, it leaves her panting, until she finally can reach back, groping for support heedless of her nakedness.
Doing so reveals the only remaining injury on her body, two fingers crooked and obviously broken. Not the bruised up, mangled swelling of an accident- the calculated, man-made snap of delicate bones designed to make even the more reticent of subjects talk.]
Where am I… ?
[This place is so bright with crystal and reflections that it hurts her eyes, she can’t tell, but there is something absent, a painful pulse of power she is afraid to feel that means the one thing she needs to know is-]
The Gate… How far are we from Hell’s Gate?