"It's so annoying having a claw for a hand. I keep accidentally cutting things on accident and I have thought about getting declawed like a cat..." I sigh a slight bit without noticing.
“I know exactly what you mean…! I can’t even write anymore, or… well, I’m learning to write with my other hand, but it’s really hard to do. Not to mention how big it is compared to the rest of my body… I have to be careful not to crush things with my hand, and hardly anything fits without me clawing a sleeve off. I’ve been wearing cloaks more often thanks to that.”
She has long accepted that it was something that she must live with, but even if she was talking to herself… at least somebody gets it.
(I’m afraid it might be a reboot and that lowers chances of Pyrrha being in it OWO)
/ it does seem to look that way, with mitsurugi and sophitia looking young and beautiful have you seen the concept art that’s out goddamn. maybe it’s going the mk9 route where it’s an AU reboot, but who the heck knows with this series at this point. i’m gonna wait until we get more information, but i’m just so hype that it even exists. i mean, it’s been how long since SC5? i’m just so happy that we’re getting a new game (hopefully) next year.
“Are you real?” Of course she is real, she was standing in front of her, but it seemed impossible, how could it be? In fact, Pyrrha places her hand cautiously upon the hilt of soul edge, slowly drawing it from its scabbard subconsciously “Sorry if that question o-offends you….”
“....it’s okay. I’m real.” she assured. And the other her is real as well... which meant the sword that she held... which once again brings about the question of ‘How?’ in her mind. That sword was destroyed, she knew. But he... he’s real. She can feel it. Her hand cradles not the hilt of her sword, but the tough exterior of her right forearm. Even within Soul Edge’s presence, her soul resonates in recognition. It was a strong, powerful pull... but she had to stand firm. “Um... you don’t have to draw your sword, Pyrrha. I don’t want to fight.” Strange that she had to assure herself of this.
Oh, how many unpleasant thoughts crossed her this day! How many ideas to drop in unannounced, to claw her way back into her former protege's life, to remind her that she will NEVER be rid of her! None had come to fruition. No, again she elects to watch, ever torn between bitterness and odd SOFTNESS towards the girl. And so, a pitch-black crow with ruby eyes perches on Pyrrha's window, carrying a plain pouch that contains an elegant hair brooch in shape of a dove, decorated with turquoise.
The sound of crows was something that always alerted Pyrrha to her presence.
Whether it would be a flock of ravens or a single crow perched near her, she has often associated it as a sense that Tira was close by. Tira was watching. When life has, in a sense, slowed down for her, she tends to look around her surroundings once she’s seen a crow or a raven out of habit.
Maybe it was futile of her to look for a sign of Tira now. After all of this time... she wouldn’t be surprised if she had dropped watching over her completely out of anger. Out of disappointment. Out of bitterness. Or a combination of the three. Pyrrha would never completely know with her, but still... oddly enough the sight of a murder of crows brought her a odd sense of... safety. A curious word that she would associate with Tira, but the often foreign feeling of being watched over often brought about that feeling within her.
Today though, when she happens to look out her window, she notices a lone crow perched upon the windowsill. Black as night with eyes red as blood, Pyrrha gasps to herself once she realizes that this was no ordinary bird. Tira. This was one of Tira’s birds. With haste, she slowly gets up and approaches the bird at her window, noticing a pouch it carried in its beak.
“...is this for me?” she asked, receiving no reply. At first, she reaches her hand -- left, still human -- out before stopping abruptly. Pyrrha looks down at her hand for a moment, then shakes her head. If she was to receive this gift, then she’ll do it right. Instead, she switches hands, the obsidian claws of her dominant hand opening up to the bird to drop the pouch upon her palm. Once it has done so, it simply stares at her as she opens the pouch to see its’ contents.
“How pretty...” she voices, tracing her finger along the shape of a dove in her admiration. There was an array of feelings that washed over Pyrrha then: Surprise most of all, that Tira would bother getting something so beautiful for her birthday. But then again, she felt grateful. Grateful that the woman would still bother to remember after all that’s happened. It once again brings about that odd sense of safety within her... and true familiarity as she smiles to herself.
“...thank you, Tira. For remembering.” she thanked. When she looks up at the window again, the crow is already gone.
KICKS DOOR DOWN FOR PYRRHA'S BIRTHDAY-- Part 33 1/3!!! Mi-na would dismissively wave her hand at the young Grecian girl before taking a hold of her wrist. Already assuring her after the past two years that she would fix it-- for that would be far more important matters to attend to! "Alright! So I've got everything planned out this year! There's a festival going on downtown, with FOOOOD, clothes-- err, other cute stuff? You'll see!" Her treat, for the first time in forever, most importantly.
She figures that she should give up expecting Mi-na to fix her door.
Without so much as a word, Pyrrha is whisked away once more, with Mi-na apparently planning the whole day out in a... festival? She had to blink a few times at that. Pyrrha didn’t know that there was a festival going on currently, much less during her birthday. She tends to avoid... crowds, for experience’s sake... for starters. And for her own comfort. The list could go on if it could.
But since Mi-na has bothered to even plan this for her birthday, something that she has been touched by, then Pyrrha settled for staying close to her friend while they go to said festival. Who knows what it will bring? Perhaps it could even be fun.
“I-I hope the food will be good...!” she blurts out as she’s being pulled down to the festival. She’s trying to be more optimistic.
"H-how?" Pyrrha has long known that soul edge has been driving her to insanity, but this seemed to be it, the last drop of it gone. Was what appeared before her an apparition? Perhaps a trick of the eyes? Or maybe even a cruel illusion of soul edge? Pyrrha was confused upon this, and simply starred with fearful eyes.
She is not looking upon a mirror, is she?
The longer that she stares at the other, the more confused that she becomes. What sort of sorcery was this...? The same face, same body, same hair, same eyes... the familiar terrified look within them... it was all hers. Right down to her freckles, it was her. Completely. Bewilderment wouldn’t even begin to cover what Pyrrha was feeling right now. Was this... her imagination? An illusion? Similar questions run through her mind, just as with this... other self. Though Pyrrha had the same question of ‘How?’ in her expression, she is rendered speechless.
There were so many years that she needed to make up for with her daughter. And, but of course she was going to spoil her in every way she can. Noting Pyrrha's enjoyment in the past during their little baking lessons, Sophitia would have most of it prepared before requesting for her presence by her side. "It's almost ready, I think it just needs a little more love and care from that of your own hands." She chuckled, as a wide selection of cake decorations were shown to her then.
When her mother was at the helm in the kitchen, she tries to keep a respectable distance.
Pyrrha has never claimed to be any good in the kitchen, much less good at baking. A not so odd thing, for a lost daughter of bakers. But still, there is a little bit of shame there that she couldn’t help but feel. So when her mother bakes, she tries to stay out of her way so that she could work in peace. Even so… there is a desire to at least learn. So for little moments in time, she is taken under her mother’s wing in baking.
Baking seemed like the perfect excuse to rightfully bond with her mother. It was an unspoken language that almost felt familiar to her. She enjoyed not only her lessons, always direct and gentle in her instruction, but of the act itself. Was Pyrrha often scared of messing up a recipe or by burning herself? Of course. But the act itself was in some ways, cathartic for her.
Often has the mere smell of freshly baked bread brought upon a sense of home. Actually baking things brought about a sense of… unity with her family. A bonding act of something she felt she was meant to do in another life.
When her mother calls upon her, she assumes that the cake is done. Pyrrha couldn’t help but have a little spring in her step as she excitedly comes over to her side. As she arrives, she is met with… decorations! Little decorations that often adorns the cakes that her mother sometimes makes for the sake of the bakery. The connotations were not lost on Pyrrha, and her eyes widened at the realization.
“I-I… I can decorate my own cake…?” she stammered in surprise.
Though she sounded uncertain, already her green eyes shimmer in excitement as she looks upon several decorations that caught her eye. This will actually be fun!
SNEAKS IN SOME RICEBALLS NEARBY HER ALONG WITH A DRAWING, blows the gentle sis a kissu. Tries to hide in the shadows-- but them pigtails still sticking out and blowing her cover.
Itsuki isn’t stealthy at all.
The first thing that she noticed was, of course, her pigtails. They stick out even in the shadows that she tried to hide in. The second thing was what she brought in with her. She sees a group of riceballs together with a drawing that Itsuki must have made for her. With a small smile creeping on her lips, Pyrrha giggles a little at her antics. “You don’t have to hide, Itsuki.” she called. “Why not enjoy some of these with me? You came all this way, after all.”
It was always nice of her to remember her birthday, even when she didn’t have to. She’s grateful, truly.
Though things at home have been relatively quiet, there is a part of her that feels more at peace in recent years than she has in the past. Somehow she’s not looking over her shoulder as much as she used to on this day. At least her uncle baked her a little cake for today that she can enjoy.
DESPAIR: Situations that would usually arouse anger, instead bring about sadness and depressive feelings. You are the sensitive type. You feel pain more than others and will allow thoughts and encounters to fester and eat away at your sanity. Your gentle soul require careful handling.
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