Closed [The Stone Gardens]Practising in the Night

[Fallon]

12th Spring 513AV
An Ungodly hour - 1st Bell

Had it always been like this? To be quietly sneaking out of the Squire dormitories at an ungodly hour. To tiptoe quietly around the hawks that ever watched the suites, and to sneak out unnoticed with little more than a shirt with the sleeves rolled up, trousers and boots? Of course not. It was only in the past seven days that it had turned like that, that Fallon had lived in a state of a half life, a slightly untrue life, a hidden and secretive life. And it was ever since she found herself calling upon her power less than a few nights before, that she began to crave its usage. Not to cause harm or ill intent, she was far above such ideas and had yet allowed herself to be corrupted by the call of it. No, it was a deeper feeling. A feeling that was absent within her and that was longed to be renewed. To simply practice without the prying eyes of others, and for a moment live in the past and a happier time.

And it was perhaps of the occasion like this that Fallon had urged herself forward. Unarmed and absent of her furry companion Orvin and without a coin to her name, with a single glass ball grasped tightly in her hand. She had to practice. She had to remember and understand what had been left behind all those years before. Quietly she slipped down the winding hallway, her feet trying to be as light as possible on the stone. Even with the torchlight it was always dark, and it was the crackle that covered most of the sounds that existed there- if there were any. She could hardly tell if the eyes of the city were watching now, she had fallen back once more into old habits. But instead of being able to practice in the security of her own room, she could not. Rules were set in place that forbid the practice of magic within the dormitories, and as she was unwilling to bring herself to practice in front of the eye of other squires.

Fallon quickened her pace and dipped into the stone garden, her eyes tracing about the silhouettes and the strange shapes that existed there. She took careful steps, her foot fall marking her presence to the observant that may of existed there. If there was anyone. It was highly unlikely that anyone would appear here at this hour anyway. She looked around the scene, and her stage in which she could practice in peace for at least a few bells. In theory at least. Inhaling deeply, Fallon cleared her mind of thought, the hand holding tightly to the glass ball now being held before her. Her left hand trembled for a moment as she paced around and towards the rippling stone fountain. It was quiet, peacefully so. It allowed her thoughts to truly clear as she reached into herself. She felt her Djed ripple, the inner power slowly being drawn out. She felt the threads of her astral tremble, the strings that held her in place loosening and slacking. Her arm turned numb as felt, the astral counterpart tremble, slowly pulling away and as it unthreaded itself. She gave a small grunt of displeasure as she nerves twinged before the dull numbness consumed it.
Steady, no rush. Take it slow.

She caught a glimpse of the moonlight breaking through, a light being cast across the garden, the creeping darkness racing back as her frame was caught a glow in the light. Her left arm went limp and lifeless, the occasional uncontrollable twitch coming from it. But there was something else more unusual going on. The astral hand reached for the glass ball that had been balanced there, and picked it up slowly. It quivered there for a moment, before lifting gently into the air. To many, this would of seemed bizarre, a strange act of magic if people even recognised it as so. Projection, the art of sending out the astral form and allowing it to perform remote interactions. She inhaled deeply as the ball lifted above her, catching the pale moon in the red glass, as the nag of the Djed called to her. For the moment however, it was fine to continue. For Fallon Skylar had only just begun.

[Rozz]

There were times when little Rozz thought little of her current occupation and in that very absence of thought, she would continue on her way as if such frivolity as though never existed. A machine, void of anything that could be remotely described as human. In a dream like numbness she would walk wherever her legs would carry her. This had nothing to do with illness of mood, or sadness or vanquishing those little things that made her who she was, her persona and emotion. No, in fact she was in a perfectly good mood. Often it seemed that, despite the amount of time she terribly over thought every living moment, Rozz was still a very much impulsive character. One who had the capability of making good decisions, yet somehow never managed to put them into action.

Her purpose in the stone garden that night was unknown to many, including Rozz herself. A simple wish. A little bit of fresh air. There were those times where, despite being in the most tranquil state of mind, she would still make those rash journeys into the darkness where she would be at one with her thought and it seemed that during those times, she found the greatest peace in simple thoughtlessness.

The girl weaved though the darkness, humming s little tune beneath her breath, using what little knowledge of musical theory she had to craft a meticulous tune. Much built simply on basic scales which she knew from childhood and the rest simply came to her in a tide of inspiration. A mellow melody erupting in gentle sounds from her throat. Low notes that brought about a warm tingle in her upper chest. Frivolously she would run up and down a clearly unnamed minor scale, voicing tones and semitones in a waltz rhythmic. The dynamics of the melody abruptly swelling, before retracting into prolonged notes,much like the nature of rolling waves at sea. Her voice, though lacking technique and skill, spun a hushed tale of the midnight wind in swirls and rounded motions. Soon the format of question and answer overcame the whimsical piece. A hoot of a phrase, fallowed by another mirror image of it, with just the slightest alteration to the ending. She was careless, but the music somehow flowed out of her as if embodying an unstoppable force. And stopping it was the farthest thing on her mind now.

Soon she found herself skipping steps and twirling and grinning wildly with the joy which the sound brought her. Sound that hopefully was quiet enough not to be heard by any other soul which might so happen to be roaming the streets at such an ungodly hour, yet plentiful enough to her own amusement. Soon she relinquished any sense of order about the notes. The little knowledge of musicianship lost to the wild and impulsive composition of the girl. Key changes and intervals which lacked thought. The very registry of them in her mind was abandoned, she simply sang to her self much like a bird may sing to the moon.

It was only upon arrival at the stone garden that the melody ceased and pure thought took over Rozz. Her very step becoming softer, her presence yet smaller beneath the black coat which would keep the chill of the darkness, for it seemed Rozz was always cold, at bay. A certain stealthier approach to the night, even if she had absolute zero proficiency at such.Perhaps it was simple weariness of the location and the ghosts which might sit atop the individual stones. This wasn't exactly a graveyard, but even so it failed not to give her the creeps when light was scarce.

Happiness in solitude. Tranquillity in one's own company. This was the shady dealing at hand.

Perhaps the ability to make good decisions has never been the ace up Rozz's sleeve, the accidental making of good choices however had it's particular way of simply happening. For it was indeed a correct choice to remain beneath the cover of night. Her quietness was indeed the very best of things she could now do and despite no ghostly presence of wild, imagined nature taking it's liberty at haunting the little round objects in the ground, the one other soul in the garden was that much of material existence. A real ghost, though equally as wild and imagined it seemed, fro the longer Rozz watched those shady dealings of the other, the more she managed to convince herself that this was all indeed a dream. An incredibly vivid dream - not that she was ever graced with those.

She steadied her breathing abruptly, feeling her heart rate quicken as the breaths she took became more shallow and completely silent. Her body gently trembling as ever so slowly she neared the figure to take a better look at the wonderment that occurred. Every step so very slow, placing her foot on the cobbles as it it was the paw of a cat, allowing the ground to sing into the soul of her shoes at each point. Only the slightest ruffle of clothing as she did so.

Wide eyed, Rozz observed the creature before her. A girl of her age, dressed plainly with her back towards her. And what the girl was performing was no doubt magic. A strange sort of control over a glass ball that freely levitated about her. Concentration painted on her face, thus Rozz concluded that she must have somehow controlled the movement of the ball in with her eyes. Eyes or perhaps her will. A strange sort of magic which Rozz herself had not yet the chance to come across, not even knowing the name.

At that moment, to the girl's dismay, her clothing gave out an involuntary rustle and if the stranger had not yet noticed her presence, she no doubt would now. She never claimed any proficiency at this sneaky business.

[Fallon]

It became a dance, gentle steps in the moonlight, strange flecks catching its light. Fallon’s eyes followed the ball, her astral hand guiding it and lifting it above her. Her feet took quick steps after it, as it twirled around, and she remained unaware of those that watched in the darkness. She felt herself lift, as a sense of freedom took hold. She threw away worry, as she turned about upon the side of the fountain that she balanced upon, feet coming together as she let the flow control her. The dream became a reality. Her right hand stretched out, tracing shapes in the air as the ball came racing round once more, the light being caught once more. Her eyes were closed as she focused more, feet turning as she went onto her toes.

Fallon became the dancing ghost of the stones. A visage that would play upon the imagination of those who saw her. A simple performer within a dream that resisted the chill of the night. Hot breath escaped her lips, a plume of mist filling the dark air. It was her time to perform and practice her art.

It was so simple, yet equally unreal. A lithe figure twirling in the light, balanced upon the edge as imagination took hold. Pale skin casting a shadow across the ground, as the partner of this dance whipped round once more. She felt the energy bubble as she reached deeper into her depths and drawing out those strings. She teetered for a moment at the edge of the fountain, inhaling in the crisp air as her mind wavered. Her face was calm, her lip curled as she felt the long, familiar hold of magic come forth. An old friend, an ally that was always there, despite the times she held it simply as a curse. It was always there, always leading her back to the past and saving her when she needed it most. But importantly it served as reminder of who she really was.

Yet, even the best dreams must come to an end. Some more abruptly than others.

Fallon turned she heard the rustle, her eyes widening as she looked upon the girl. Their expression matched for a moment, though no doubt for very different reasons. The ball fell from the astral hand, her shoulders hunched in as if to protect herself. But it was those eyes that spoke a different story. Fear, worry, concern, but most importantly a rising instinct that came from within. One that would no doubt be found upon a creature that had found itself cornered. But just as quickly did it rise up, was it broken again by the sound of smashing glass. The eyes of Fallon tore away from the girl, and to the fragmented glass ball that was strewn across the pebbles.

The dream was shattered.

Her lip trembled for a moment as she felt her astral hand slink back to her physical. Her face winced as she felt the nerves burst into life, the numbness subduing as the threads began to knit themselves together. Her fingers tensed, as her eyes once more looked upon the girl. What had been seen? What had not been seen? Did it appear as little more as a dream to this stranger? Or had she simply been discovered without a way out? Fallon swallowed, her eyes trembling as thought crumbled away. Her mind tried to grasp onto a sense of reasoning as she stood upon the fountain edge, her heart that had slowed for only a moment had now begun to race. Quick breaths came upon her lips as she tried to find a sense of calm.

What could be done? Nothing.

Fallon had been caught. There was no escaping that. The look upon the face of the girl confirmed that, with those finer looking clothes in comparison to her plainer and simpler wear. And it was no doubt that her face could be picked out in the crowd now. She winced again as the final strings attached themselves once more. There was however one clear option that begun to ring out in Fallon’s mind, and one that she was so use to doing. Run. Run and never look back. Yet there was one small issue with that thought. Fallon had simply frozen up, her legs no longer behaved her wishes and so she was left simply paralysed with the emotions that raged within. Yet, Fallon summoned what little courage she could from deep within and brought it forth. With a single, simple question.
“What did you see?”

[Rozz]

"Nothing!" came the instant reply though her voice had been louder than she wished for. Instead of a whisper it was a broken tremble of a reassurance that indeed embodied a complete lie for she had seen it all. She saw the dance. She watched the ball drop to the bound in a sparkling array of shattered glass. And too did she see the girl use her djed in some strange way to infiltrate the ball and to give it invisible wings.

Her chest tensed abruptly as if her very veins wound about her heart, constricting it mercilessly. Transfixed into the ground she stared blatantly at the other, eyes wide open. A mind that now worked so quickly to figure out the best possible escape root out of the situation. A mind that was so very numb as if a thousand thick needles were thrust into it and despite all these though that passed though it, she was very much incapable. Her body beckoned to turn and run and if it wasn't for the fact she got herself into this mess in the first place, she probably would have apologised politely, wished the girl a 'good day' and fled for the safety of solitude in some other area. Instead however, her feet were rooted into the ground and a silly smile blossomed on her face. A terribly awkward smile that didn't really convey any kind of happiness.

It was then that her very own mind began to speak in thirst person to her. A moment where she had no choice but to summon that stronger presence within her, beneath which she so frequently hid in wake of adversity. A second Rozz which she imagined to be so much better with words, so much more capable of dealing with the situation. If the stranger was at least a few years older, things may have took quite a different turn.

"Is it... magic?" she asked finally after a moment of complete muteness. No longer thinking, she just acted the way she imagine that stronger girl within her to act. "Did you to that with you djed? And if so then... well of course that's the case. I'm stupid. But... how?"

It was that moment that she wanted to show the girl her own magic, Morphing. The one thing she had left from that one very special person in her life. That one person who no longer had been part of it. But it was that numbness of mind that prevented her from doing so.

[Fallon]

Fallon’s back straightened, her face for a moment dipping into shadow. Those eyes looked down, almost as if holding onto the disbelief in the words of the girl. She watched the nervous smile sprout and grow, whilst Fallon’s own turned sharp and cold. Lies, all lies. The girl saw all, there was no denying that. Thought seeped in; control was established as she carefully pulled her shattered mind back together. She felt her jaw tighten, her nostrils flaring as she sought control once more. Her simple question of asking had broken the silence, but upon doing so it had ripped the scene apart. A flurry of questions were asked, and she simply looked upon the girl with unwavering eyes.

Fallon was silent, her hand clenching into the fist in the wake of the girl’s twittering. Had it been a different situation, had the scene been lighter hearted, had Fallon not allowed herself to be caught, then she would of- without a doubt- acted differently. She would have laughed, and simply sent the woman on her way. But right now that was far from possible.
“You twitter like a bird,” she brought forth words once more. It was cold, sharp, filled without warmth “what do you think it is? A dream or an illusion?” She was not about to answer simply, doing so would only expose her further. If she was not exposed enough already that was.

Her eyes turned away once more as she descended down from the side of the fountain, every step now filling the silence that existed. Her eyes turned to that of the broken glass, her attention now focused solely on the shards. Her face changed again, this time to one of pain as she crouched down next to it. A flash of sorrow filled her as her fingers touched at the shards, a moment of disbelief hanging above her. But it was a different sort this time, one that struck into the core. Her lip trembled as she carefully picked up the shard and brought it to her face, her eyes catching the light that shone through it. It turned in her fingers before she grasped it tightly in her palm.
This is all wrong!

Yet with that moment of calmness, did a deep outburst come from within. The hand was raised, rage and anger filling her every action . The hand was raised and the glass thrown to the floor before it splintered apart. The fist shook, before falling to one side. Defeat consumed the rage, but what was the cause was no doubt a mystery to the girl who watched.
“Shyke…” she managed to curse as her head hung.

[Rozz]

The stranger's eyes pierced straight though her, sold and stern as she stood there, transfixed into the ground. Unable to do much else but simply to stare back, to look upon the girl's porcelain feature. The tensing of muscle beneath skin as her jaw tightened, the flare of nostrils which was a physical manifestation of anger. Or so thought Rozz. She saw nothing but anger that made her wish to avert her eyes. Perhaps it was fear that allowed no such thing. Fear that caused Rozzy, who moment by moment became smaller and smaller within herself, to closely observe every most detail. Every behaviour, every trait.

“You twitter like a bird,” snapped the other. A passive kind of snap that was so very cold, so very saturated with dominance over Rozz. A tightening of fists. “what do you think it is? A dream or an illusion?”

At the spite of those words, Rozz regressed further. Perhaps she was no longer a child, but in confrontations where she had not the liberty of the upper hand, she acted like one. A regression into the shadow. A look upon her face which seemed that of a beaten puppy that in sorrow and anger now growled, in fear of being hit again. She peered from beneath her brow, shoulders hunched, hands in pockets. A gulp in her throat, a tensing of the chest. "I'm not stupid you know." she growled beneath her breath. A tone that was so very different from her natural, melodic voice. A low tone, dry and quiet. "I know about magic. I've just never came across your particular discipline." In all honesty, she had no intention in revealing her own secret. The nuit once said that any secret that bore any real value, was one worth keeping. he would instruct her not to share the knowledge he had bestowed upon her. But at the same time she demanded to be thought of as an equal to this strange magician before her. She refused to be deemed inferior, even if she was naive.

For a moment she wished to be reckless. To explode with such recklessness and to give not a though about the repercussions. Within her, she already began growing a greater sense of her djed, preparing herself to manipulate the energy. Growing a greater awareness of each and every cell in her body which she could rewrite to morph into something different, something alien. But that was only a momentary weakness. Much like strong alcohols, she only took a sip before returning to her senses. Or perhaps it was something else that returned her senses to her.

Rozz observed as the girl before her averted her attention, not for a moment taking her eyes off her in fact. Keen eyes of such a bland blue hues, they observed as the girl picked up a shard of glass and then threw it against the ground in a glistening array of shattering. A glitter that scattered with a sharp twang, sending minute shards into the air as if they were droplets. Light flexed within them whimsically. “Shyke…” she managed to curse as her head hung.

If there was one thing Rozz had astoundingly little proficiency in, it was rows, especially with new acquaintances. Hell, she rowed badly full stop, for to Rozz, rows and debates were two different things. She had the heart of a lion when it came to standing up for that she believed in. However where the goal was obscured, when there was little to stand up for, her heart of a lion would reduce into that of a mouse. Thus she took another step backwards, willing not to avert her eyes. She could simply not look away, even if the need to do so beckoned mercilessly. A deep wish that she may never again run into this stranger for she may burn with embarrassed and somehow a wish to talk to her, even if just for a few more moment. Tongue tied, she simply stared.

[Fallon]

Fallon stared at the glass for a while, still perched upon her haunches, her eyes unwavering from the shards that caught the light. Her mind was too convoluted with emotions to really grasp upon anything properly, even the words of the girl seemed little more than a distant echo to her ears. She inhaled deeply felt the rage rise up once more, bubbling away before it was released with a simple exhale. She kept herself like that for a while, her eyes focused only on the glass, a memory that was now shattered and no doubt beyond repair. A precious item that was broken by her own clumsy hand. She had no one else to blame but herself for this scene of misfortune.

Her head turned to the girl, watching the hesitation fill her frame, the fear and urge to run filling every notion. And perhaps it was for the better that the girl should find the need to make flight, air was turbulent, and she had laid witness to an unusual performance. Or more importantly had laid eyes on Djed and its manipulation. It therefore came as no surprise that the girl sought escape, or perhaps at least- in the mind of Fallon- to expose her to the Knights as a mage and little more. Worry gripped on tightly to Fallon once more, a gentle frown forming on her face. She no longer looked as fierce as she did before, the anger having now washed away with any element of calmness that she could have tried to grasp onto. She met the eyes of the girl for a moment, a brief tremble of a fear deeper than she was letting on.

“I guess, you’re going run off and tell the Knights now?” she released a bitter laugh, her eyes wincing as she felt the strains once more reach her heart. She had just come to Syliras, she made the promise to stay for good this time, but now this? Did she have to break her word again? And so soon too, “Going to tell them you found a mage? A witch that was whirling around magic?”
She turned her head way and shook it, she could barely think straight as it was, and talking it seemed was far from going to help the situation. Much like trying to play on the defence now would do little good. There was no point in bringing up the barriers between her and the outside world. She was already caught and seen, and so could only dwell in the state of defeat. She felt her heart tighten once more, and she clenched her eyes shut. It gave her a moment of respite from the world, a moment that was vital for thought.

“Its projection if you must know,” Fallon spoke with a sigh, her hand rising to her eyes.
What else is there to lose now anyway?
Her fingers rested there for a moment as she tried to gather some sense of thought, a notion that she could use to guide her properly. Preferably before she fell into a state of uncontrollable panic and was driven by irrational thoughts. She released her hand turned her attention once more to the broken glass. Her shoulders slumped as she carefully reached out for the shards once more, careful and delicate fingers picking them up and placing them into her other hand. She gave a hiss when she jab her finger with one of the pieces, and flinched out of reflex. The pieces that she was holding onto chinked once more against the floor with the top of her finger slashed open. She winced again if not at the stinging pain then at the blood that begin to bloom out, before sucking in a deep breath and proceeding once more with the glass.
“This is all wrong, all wrong,” she mumbled to herself as she held back a choke.

[Rozz]

“I guess, you’re going run off and tell the Knights now?” the other released a bitter laugh. “Going to tell them you found a mage? A witch that was whirling around magic?”

Rozze's fists tightened at this remark. Her teeth clenched as she looked to the girl from beneath her brow. Shallow residue of that old, child like rebelliousness within her breast that now made her look so very small and so very angry in the almost impassivity of the mask of her face. A gravelly stern look. Her eyes however were liquid, manifesting as two glowing orbs in the darkness, the eyes of a kitten that had been struck again and again, hacked at relentlessly by some sordid hand. Her very pride was hacked at.

This continued conversation was perhaps the only thing that kept the girl transfixed in her place, immobilised by greed and pride and the tightness in her chest. And her pride hollered in agony as the though drifted though her mind. Run off to tell the knights? Who do you take me for! her inner voice screamed at her. I'm not just any odd kid who happened to stumble upon that which makes no sense to her. If only... if only you knew my secret. I too have a secret! And suddenly she became a little bigger within her self. A wave of self assertion, powered perhaps by the intricate workings of her own mind in wake of adversity. Yet she would not look away, being looked down on. That was simply not the case. She demanded love and if not than respect and she would prove herself, she would earn it. Suppose the other was simply insignificant to her life, which was most likely the case, she wouldn't allow even this littlest of splotches upon her timeline to think thought she did not approve of.

They all have to love her! Every single last one of them. Whoever they were, human beings. No matter how little and insignificant to her, for they all seemed so much greater. It's not the case of lacking self justification or self validation in Rozze's case. Simply self validation, no matter how great, was simply not enough for her. She yearned for acknowledgement at all odds and that acknowledgement she would receive. Even if the endeavour would be a long one and waged on borderline harassment. If tonight she would not prove herself worthy to the stranger, than she would seek her out and prove herself somehow - alternatively sink away, never to look upon that face again. And if she was to be treated with transparent loathing for this encounter, if she was to be looked down upon as something lesser, than somehow - even if it would be a pricey assay, for no one would ever speak of little Rozz Potato to lack ambition and determination, even if she was suspended on the axis of simple laziness - she would change it. Even if such was a simple thought, she would combat it with pleasant and sweet words and knowledge imparted upon her tender, childish constitution of the past, by those beloved bygones. Somehow... somehow she would accomplish it.

For now however it was time to grow a pair, as it was no longer little scared Rozzy who stood there, disinclined to acknowledge her age, her numerical maturity, enslaved by old habits of timid nature. From that shell of a girl who was barely 5ft3, a blossom sprouted, swelling, turgid and red. Red like the heart that beat within her chest just a tad too fast. And she was no longer Rozz but Lee. The bigger one, the braver one. A kind of metal morphing of a sort, for she would not dare to display her secret so openly and easily. She feared the beautiful nuit too much to reveal that sacred secret he had entrusted her with. And with such an abrupt metamorphosis her chin lifted as her keen eyes, now somehow more alight than beforehand, if only marginally, observed the girl before her. A turgidity of her persona, somehow sprouted from that timid thing she was.

“Its projection if you must know,” the stranger sighed in capitulation. “This is all wrong, all wrong,”. Rozz watched her as she began to gather the glass and mumble to her self. her attention averted.

"You've been at it for long?" a simple question but it seemed her mind was always so very blank when it came to such scenarios. Keeping up the very vague strands of conversation all together was quite a difficult endeavour which she indeed deserved applause for. Her hands, the only things that were not overcome with this second presence within her. Nervously they snatched at the corners of her dress. Impervious were they to her inner voice of season, as if filled by a life of their own.

[Fallon]

Each shard was vital, each piece was needed. Even those that had spun off into the darkness were important. It was her only way of maintaining a state of calm, a life line to having some form of control in this case. Not that it did much good. She did not see the pride of the girl flare up, she did not know of the thoughts that went through her mind. Of the craving of attention that she so desperately wanted. For Fallon’s mind was too transfixed on what lay broken before her. Yet as every shard was picked up did another fall, a vicious cycle that she could not escape from. Just like she could not escape from the eyes of the girl who watched and silently judged. She heard the question, but did not answer straight away. It had become a struggle to bring forth anything that was outside of her incoherent mumblings and the occasional word being spoken that rung true.
“Idiot.”
“Stupid girl.”
“Look what you’ve done Fallon,” were some of the few that rose up on the occasion. She swallowed, and inhaled, trying to fill her tightening chest and calm her panicked heart.

“Depends on your meaning of long,” her head once more turned to the girl “Long for one might be short for another.”
A light sigh left her, her brow turning into a frown as it turned into a state of almost hopelessness. A vulnerable state that Fallon did not like being in. A state where she could be manipulated and controlled to do whatever the other wanted. There was no doubt the thought of simply running and escaping in her face, her eyes briefly drifting round and looking for a way out. How she wished everything to simply be different.

She felt her chest tighten, her hand trembling over a piece. Her mind having simply frozen, after having only momentarily glanced at those hawk-like eyes. She had become little more than prey, which left her with little choice on how to react. She had been left to suffer in a pathetic state by her own hand. With all the wisdom, knowledge and guidance, her mind had become clouded, her judgement blurred, and all her more normal natures lost. Her head snapped away, her shoulders hunching in as she cocooned herself- if not physically then mentally. There was no escape and the consequences had to be taken.

Not one after all ever escaped the consequences of their actions.

“Is there… something you want?” she managed to say.
An all she could say, for not long after her throat sealed itself shut and any form of communicating was lost. Short of simple shakes of the head. She had to get out of this state. She knew she had to. She had to drag out the cool and calm side that rested hidden with the turmoil, that deep courage that she was always told of having. For without it Fallon had no chance in fighting back.

[Rozz]

“Is there… something you want?” alas came the question.

And at that the realisation came. No there was absolutely nothing she wanted. This untimely encounter was little more than an accidental mistake, resulting the the shattering that needlessly disrupted the night. Thus with a nod she excused herself. Perhaps this cowardice wasn't quite the best decorum upon her behalf but none the less it was necessary and with little more than a hushed words she turned on her heal and left, forever banishing this memory.

Well eternal banishing was perhaps the furthest thing away from truth even if she somehow managed to convince herself of that to be the case. In reality her mind pondered. It spun upon the axis of it all, wish in that perhaps she could have somehow done things differently. Perhaps at least helped to pick up the glass, perhaps said a kind word or two. perhaps even engage in something vaguely resembling the coherence of conversation between two acquaintances. It was obvious that the pair had a shared interest in magic, thus making them probably the oxymoron of unlikeness when treading upon the faint outlines of a backbone of friendship. Perhaps such could have been built. Instead however she had to simply go and embarrassed herself in such a derogatory fashion. Shameful! Simply shameful!