From the ashes Malodian rose. It was funny the way in which it happened. Things would happen slowly and they would happen quickly, but never in between. The young woman was feeling less young than usual, but it didn’t matter. They would change if she wanted them to. They would change if she didn’t. The clockwork angel couldn’t help what couldn’t be changed and couldn’t change what she could help. Everything would shift and rage on, and everything would change. The automaton wouldn’t bother with too much of it. It was starting to get real old real fast.
Good thing that everything was changing. Alice had stuck with the gypsies, finding herself oddly intrigued by the medicine man that had lead the exodus and saved them all. There were others, sure, but she knew not of them. The gypsies in Scotavia had fared well thanks to the medicine man. Hawthorn had done them well. Alice only wanted to do them justice, and that could be a problem. The clockwork angel had her own issues and her own problems to deal with. She was a mammoth, and that was the first issue she took hold of. Still, looks weren’t everything. She could look manly, and everyone who pointed it out could get over it.
Two years later, it was Alice that spent time avoiding time with the actual family. There was the boys and Pompeii, Hawthorn and the children. They had their own little pack, and she was there to be on the fringes. It didn’t matter much… it didn’t look like it mattered a lot. She would come and go, she would replace what she ate. It was the company of the group the clockwork angel was drawn to. She could move to the group and fall into it, she could make her way over… she was welcome. It felt like it was welcome.
The creature moved with a certain gentleness in her step. Alice has never been a villain, no matter how hard she tries. The creature wishes she was tougher, she wishes she was more… more angry? It would almost be better to have the ugly sort of energy as a driving force. She wishes it was that simple, to flip a switch and become… bad? Bad was such an ugly word. In reality, the clockwork angel needed a cause to fight for. What was the use of rebelling without one?
Our automaton made her way across the ground with a spark in her eyes. There was a waterfall here, the creature could hear it. Alice believed it was just a matter of finding it, seeking it out and making it hers. The clockwork angel needed to see this place for herself, needed to get her boots on the ground and find it. That was what the no longer so young woman with the manly silhouette was doing for the moment—living for it. Trying to find out which of these places would be the best when it came time for the gypsies to do what they did best. Alice needed to scout and seek and find… it was only fair. She’d pull her weight.
ALiCE
hound’s
gypsy | seven | unattached
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