停止关怀 — open

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with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair

Hazel's mother was a bitter, broken woman that she would just as soon forget. Hazel could only associate her with nightmares and fear and the acrid taste of panic on the back of her tongue; the coppery scent of blood and the shatter of glass. A deeper part of Hazel knew there was a time when Mother wasn't all bad, that she had at one point held a considerable amount of love within her. But now? Now Hazel could hardly remember what Mother's kindness had been like at all. The closest person she now considered a mother was Margaery. (Suite was more like a big sister.) Margaery was what it must feel like to be maternal. Hazel had seen her go through pain and death for her little ones and still find it in her heart and mind space to smile at them, knowing they and Suite made up her entire world. Hazel wondered what it felt like to be wanted like that. To be loved in that way, to that depth.

What drew her to the gathering crowd was either one of two things: Bastille's sudden surge of anger, or Versaille's familiar aura lining the edge of her vision. Whichever it was, Hazel abandoned her task to greet the much-missed girl while struggling to get her head above Bast's subdued anger before she drowned in it. Vi's return helped with that, giving her something else to focus on and soothe over the jagged edge of the bond. Hazel cast a fleeting concerned glance at Bastille before directing her attention to Vi.

"I'm glad that you're back!" Hazel chirped, smiling brightly at the girl. She let her eyes slide over the mask, the glowing markings - and decided that she liked this new look, as long as Versailles was still Versailles. "Can I get you anything?" Hazel added, brows knitting.

HAZEL E CAELUM — KUIPER CORPORAL — MOODBOARD — PLAYLIST — TAGS

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