[ Before he can reach her, Alice withdraws her sword, her will and desire to partake in some matter results into her own mana flowing through her sword. She wishes she could use it like the vorpal blade; in her mind she can picture her knife and how it cuts through the air with a blue incandescent streak. The more she discovers her mana, the more she seems to unlock it. Unwittingly, Alice has charged it, as she flicks her wrist, holding the sword in one hand. Stand tall, that's what she has been instructed by Assassin, rather than her usual stance of hunching over, ready to pounce or flee.
He startles her as soon as he approaches her. Her eyes dart back and forth between Sion and the dragon, Alice taking uneasy steps back from him. Even now, she's not sure what to make of him each time he approaches her. But the mural-
Alice has an excellent visual memory. She remembers glancing at it and how pretty she thought it was and like anything she admires, a beautiful image is absorbed into her mind just as much as the horrible ones. What he asks of her has her frowning- no, she looks visibly upset. It would, indeed, be salt in the wounds and Alice, all too familiar with the feelings of loss finds herself hesitating. ]
My mind's eye?
[ She doesn't say it to him, the expression on her face says it all. My vision is corrupted. Everything she sees is tainted and distorted from Wonderland's influence.
"We are relying upon you."
She doesn't want to hear this. How can they rely on her? She can't even aim correctly! But now isn't the time to say this to him or argue further about it. She doubts herself and for once, Alice doesn't bother hiding her real emotions on the matter, the look of hesitation. I can't do this.
From the depths of her mind, it doesn't take long to hone in the image of the phoenix, how beautiful she once was. Alice would simply land her eyes on a clearing, allowing her imagination to draw the picture out. The warm hues of the creature, whisping together to take a shape as Alice recounted each little detail of the painting. Her feathers, feet, head, and the long tail Alice found the most beautiful. There is no incantation for Alice's illusions, but for once, it isn't a dark illusion that she casts, it's of what she remembers, trying her damndest to separate from this world's memories from Wonderland's birds.
To her credit, even with the ghostflower comb's magic that induces fear, the illusion, at least, she creates is perfect, fueled by Alice's imagination and memory of the image she can recall. As she pictures the image of the phoenix in her mind taking flight, so does the illusion. Everyone outside of Alice's illusion will need to confirm that it is a real vision, not just exclusive to her.
The mana starts to drain from her body, but Alice holds firm, keeping one hand on her sword. Queens cannot move, they must stay in their place as they cast the spell and so, Alice is left there, allowing her spell to work, trying to quell the feeling of guilt.
She mutters "I am sorry" to herself, low enough to where only she can here it and no one else. ]
no subject
He startles her as soon as he approaches her. Her eyes dart back and forth between Sion and the dragon, Alice taking uneasy steps back from him. Even now, she's not sure what to make of him each time he approaches her. But the mural-
Alice has an excellent visual memory. She remembers glancing at it and how pretty she thought it was and like anything she admires, a beautiful image is absorbed into her mind just as much as the horrible ones. What he asks of her has her frowning- no, she looks visibly upset. It would, indeed, be salt in the wounds and Alice, all too familiar with the feelings of loss finds herself hesitating. ]
My mind's eye?
[ She doesn't say it to him, the expression on her face says it all. My vision is corrupted. Everything she sees is tainted and distorted from Wonderland's influence.
"We are relying upon you."
She doesn't want to hear this. How can they rely on her? She can't even aim correctly! But now isn't the time to say this to him or argue further about it. She doubts herself and for once, Alice doesn't bother hiding her real emotions on the matter, the look of hesitation. I can't do this.
From the depths of her mind, it doesn't take long to hone in the image of the phoenix, how beautiful she once was. Alice would simply land her eyes on a clearing, allowing her imagination to draw the picture out. The warm hues of the creature, whisping together to take a shape as Alice recounted each little detail of the painting. Her feathers, feet, head, and the long tail Alice found the most beautiful. There is no incantation for Alice's illusions, but for once, it isn't a dark illusion that she casts, it's of what she remembers, trying her damndest to separate from this world's memories from Wonderland's birds.
To her credit, even with the ghostflower comb's magic that induces fear, the illusion, at least, she creates is perfect, fueled by Alice's imagination and memory of the image she can recall. As she pictures the image of the phoenix in her mind taking flight, so does the illusion. Everyone outside of Alice's illusion will need to confirm that it is a real vision, not just exclusive to her.
The mana starts to drain from her body, but Alice holds firm, keeping one hand on her sword. Queens cannot move, they must stay in their place as they cast the spell and so, Alice is left there, allowing her spell to work, trying to quell the feeling of guilt.
She mutters "I am sorry" to herself, low enough to where only she can here it and no one else. ]