Post by Amara Reedman on Dec 18, 2016 18:00:32 GMT -6
Amara was strolling just outside of Vytal City, just beyond the wall known as the Waters of Life, taking a bit of time to herself in order to enjoy life outside the city. Sometimes this was her escape, more often than not seeing her slip away from school - or her partner - in an effort to be alone. This area, in particular, was situated on Vytal’s northwestern point, just along the shore. There were some trees, tall but shorter than most, with wind-torn bark and lush green leaves. A gentle breeze swept through, not enough to make conditions uncomfortable, but blowing with enough force to cause Amara’s hair to toss about like the mane of an unbroken mustang thrashing about.
She felt wild.
Walking along the shore, the Freshman found herself kicking anything she could - rocks, large shells, pieces of debris that washed up from the city - parallel to the waves sweeping upon the pebbled sand. She had contemplated removing her shoes, letting the sand stick and water splash freely against her bare feet. After considering the small amounts of metal and glass she had seen as she walked, alas, Amara decided otherwise. Wouldn’t want to risk cutting open her foot, especially this far from the Academy. There wasn’t an infirmary out in the middle of nowhere. Her shorts, rising high and exposing her slender legs, made up for that though. Every time a larger wave crashed against the beach, her legs would shiver in the mist.
As she usually did, Amara strutted around in clothing she felt was imperative to giving her the mobility and protection she actually needed. Shorts were the easy part. Her top was a white sleeveless blouse paired with a black underbust corset - her usual thing, really. A white jacket replaced her typical black one, however, a smart move given the rising temperatures of the island. It was uncharacteristic for this time of the year, or so she heard, begging the question - why? There was a lot of speculation. Actually, speculation was all there was, despite meteorologists trying their best to come up with a decisive answer. Most people were worried it had something to do with the Wills, with more and more reports reaching the desks of Kingdom leadership every single day. It was a little nerve-wracking.
Thinking back to the day the first of the Wills attacked Vytal, Amara felt her stomach twist in one agonizing instant. She winced, almost dropping to her knees, as her arms hugged against her core. That was one of the first times she had ever feared for her life, and it was the first of many events that would ultimately drill it into her head that current events were far from ordinary. The Grimm were becoming more powerful, and the Kingdoms growing weaker. It was only a matter of time before the scales tipped and mankind, once again, had to fight back or be pushed from their homes. This was Amara’s calling. She would complete her training and dedicate herself - her entire being - into ensuring the people of Remnant were kept safe.
She’d fight them all off if she had to.
Amara eventually strolled upon a large rock sticking from the sand, the perfect seat on the shore to take in the ocean beyond and the skies above. She crawled up on it, the stone reaching an overall height of about five feet, before settling herself down. The surface was moist from the ocean spray, but warm to the touch from the beaming sun. There was just enough room for Amara to lie down and stare up at the sky and observe the clouds. Flopping into her back, Amara let out a loud and exaggerated yawn, tucking her arms behind her head for support while also crossing her legs. Her mind was full of many thoughts for the moment, but the one that pestered her the most was - if the Great Architect existed, why were they letting this happen to the world?
The very thought made Amara’s brow furrow with frustration.
“Whoever you are, way up there!” She belted out as loud as she could, all in one breath. “You really, REALLY suck!”
« Amethyst Ingram ◈ 704 ◈ you suck! »
She felt wild.
Walking along the shore, the Freshman found herself kicking anything she could - rocks, large shells, pieces of debris that washed up from the city - parallel to the waves sweeping upon the pebbled sand. She had contemplated removing her shoes, letting the sand stick and water splash freely against her bare feet. After considering the small amounts of metal and glass she had seen as she walked, alas, Amara decided otherwise. Wouldn’t want to risk cutting open her foot, especially this far from the Academy. There wasn’t an infirmary out in the middle of nowhere. Her shorts, rising high and exposing her slender legs, made up for that though. Every time a larger wave crashed against the beach, her legs would shiver in the mist.
As she usually did, Amara strutted around in clothing she felt was imperative to giving her the mobility and protection she actually needed. Shorts were the easy part. Her top was a white sleeveless blouse paired with a black underbust corset - her usual thing, really. A white jacket replaced her typical black one, however, a smart move given the rising temperatures of the island. It was uncharacteristic for this time of the year, or so she heard, begging the question - why? There was a lot of speculation. Actually, speculation was all there was, despite meteorologists trying their best to come up with a decisive answer. Most people were worried it had something to do with the Wills, with more and more reports reaching the desks of Kingdom leadership every single day. It was a little nerve-wracking.
Thinking back to the day the first of the Wills attacked Vytal, Amara felt her stomach twist in one agonizing instant. She winced, almost dropping to her knees, as her arms hugged against her core. That was one of the first times she had ever feared for her life, and it was the first of many events that would ultimately drill it into her head that current events were far from ordinary. The Grimm were becoming more powerful, and the Kingdoms growing weaker. It was only a matter of time before the scales tipped and mankind, once again, had to fight back or be pushed from their homes. This was Amara’s calling. She would complete her training and dedicate herself - her entire being - into ensuring the people of Remnant were kept safe.
She’d fight them all off if she had to.
Amara eventually strolled upon a large rock sticking from the sand, the perfect seat on the shore to take in the ocean beyond and the skies above. She crawled up on it, the stone reaching an overall height of about five feet, before settling herself down. The surface was moist from the ocean spray, but warm to the touch from the beaming sun. There was just enough room for Amara to lie down and stare up at the sky and observe the clouds. Flopping into her back, Amara let out a loud and exaggerated yawn, tucking her arms behind her head for support while also crossing her legs. Her mind was full of many thoughts for the moment, but the one that pestered her the most was - if the Great Architect existed, why were they letting this happen to the world?
The very thought made Amara’s brow furrow with frustration.
“Whoever you are, way up there!” She belted out as loud as she could, all in one breath. “You really, REALLY suck!”
