Fakest = not a word.
mall-caps;text-varient
mall-caps;">IT'S ONLY cript;">FOREVER, NOT LONG AT ALLSpeaking of the detached part of their strange family wound her emotions tight as she hoped he would simply accept it and move on. At first he did, crossing to her and holding her arms tightly enough to make her stop and face him. It was nice to hear that he had missed her. It was nice to know someone would. But it faded as he addressed her words, and she then realized why he held her in that place. If he hadn't, she might have tried to leave; as it was, she was forced to listen. Before, she would have been furious to hear the what he had to say, speaking in their father's voice to try and make her understand. After all that had happened since, she simply stared. Emotions faded into the depths of her as her eyes gained the glossy sheen of a corpse who no longer saw the world. Her features turned in the faintest, fakest smile, similar to the prince's own plastic grins. "Yes. Of course." She didn't believe she was bound to any of them, for their actions spoke so much louder than the blood of true traitors to their family. These children had done no wrong apart from being born, but it did not stop her disgust, just as it had not stopped her rage as she met the orange man born to the wolf pack Pixie resided in. It hadn't been anyone's fault other than Gabriel's, but she had yet to truly blame him.
It was best for her to simply forget.
More relief, as he confirmed her hope that he wouldn't go. He wouldn't leave. He wouldn't leave for anyone, and it caused her to truly smile, though she felt sad all the same. "Good. If I ever go again, I don't want you to follow." If she had believed he would have stayed behind, perhaps she would have left sooner. Now she didn't want to. She didn't want to risk involvement with those bastard children of other places, and Inferni was the only place that could protect her from them. But if she ever did get the urge to run, to leave as she had in the past, she was glad he wouldn't chase her. Her confusion was evident as his cheer faded into nothing, ears hiding amongst sun-bleached locks of gold. Something was wrong, but she couldn't fathom what, and it wasn't until he explained that she realized the problem. Her confusion disappeared, replaced by fear as panic settled into her chest.
"He can't. He can't." She stepped away, turning her back to Ezekiel as she tried to fathom a life without her father's lead. Halo was the Centurion, and it was her understanding that the Centurion was the one to step up as Aquila when the old one left. Halo Lykoi, her outside-born cousin fathered by a traitor. They didn't get along. Her fingers twisted curled hair in tight spirals. "He can't leave me here with her, she'll never let me stay." It wouldn't be long until she found herself forced from the home she loved so much, labelled a traitor. Or better yet, dead like traitors should be. Frustration ruled her actions as she dropped to a crouch, staring at the dirt while she attempted to organize her life; if Halo came torule, she would need a new home. "Maybe he would let me stay in the mountains with him. Oh, that's silly. Of course he would; he has no one else." Her whispered words were spoken to the dirt.
<style>
.ns01 {margin:0px auto;width:450px;background-color:none;background-image:none;background-position:top middle;background-repeat:no-repeat;border:none;padding:0px;font-family:times new roman, sans-serif;font-size:13px;line-height:16px;letter-spacing:.5px;text-align:justify;margin-top:15px;}
.ns01-ooc {font-style:italic;font-size:11px;margin:2px; padding:0px;text-align:left;}
.ns01 p {text-indent:25px;margin:0px;padding:5px 10px;}
.ns01 b {font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:1px;}
.ns01 i {font-style:italic;letter-spacing:1px;}
</style>
[/html]