[ Doesn't look at them for the rest of the duration of her image. She keeps her unblinking gaze on the phoenix, shoving any voices that chime in on her work.
"How long will you be able to hold onto such a pristine and beautiful image, Alice?"
She can hear the Cheshire Cat come in, Alice doing what she can to ignore him, knowing that she would see the creature filter in, out of the corner of her eyes and possibly become part of the illusion.
I can't do this for much longer. Out of fear it will become tainted with her psyche, Alice does what she can to hold it, feeling her body begin to tremble in anxiety as well as the comb slowly exerting her. It would expose her for what she really is, Alice thinks, a raving lunatic if the image began to filter and become a twisted version of the beautiful phoenix. Alice finds herself wincing, watching the poor creature being cleaved at the side of his neck.
As it goes to the sky, so does Alice's gaze, along with her illusion, sending it right after the dragon, Alice trying to imagine how her voice would sound. Wouldn't it sound beautiful? Wouldn't it beckon her love to stay with him? This is too cruel! She wished she could hear her family's voices again, imagining their voices that moment to press it into her illusion of love and reassurance rather than her parents' cries as they burned alive that night.
This is too much!
Alice is far too absorbed into her illusion and those feelings to notice that mana beam. It's bright, but so is her illusions, her mind at that moment delving further and further, brightening the image of the phoenix that she does nothing and doesn't even notice that direction of the beam that comes to her. Suddenly, the illusion starts to lose it's brightness, nearly fading to dust and Alice standing there, wondering where the sharp pain is coming from in her shoulder. Maybe she held onto her sword too tight? But then... why does it feel wet all the sudden? Rain?
It's only by luck Alice drops her gaze down to her sword, to see if it was secure, just out of the corner of her eye to notice the bright color of red blooming through the white of her jacket. Suddenly, the sharp pain in her shoulder makes sense and it grows to hurt more. Alice, who had gone through many things in her young life, didn't find the pain unbearable, neither did she wince or cry out as she notice the deep lash across her chest, to her shoulder.
Don't move, don't move...!
She does try to hold herself and her ground that half of minute of confusion and determination to hold her ground. She had been through worse, why would such a deep cut matter? Or was it a cut? It had to be a cut, the fabric was tearing. Her free hand drawing to her chest, the effort to stay where she is fails and the illusion is gone as Alice draws a breath and finds herself falling from her standing point. ]
no subject
"How long will you be able to hold onto such a pristine and beautiful image, Alice?"
She can hear the Cheshire Cat come in, Alice doing what she can to ignore him, knowing that she would see the creature filter in, out of the corner of her eyes and possibly become part of the illusion.
I can't do this for much longer. Out of fear it will become tainted with her psyche, Alice does what she can to hold it, feeling her body begin to tremble in anxiety as well as the comb slowly exerting her. It would expose her for what she really is, Alice thinks, a raving lunatic if the image began to filter and become a twisted version of the beautiful phoenix. Alice finds herself wincing, watching the poor creature being cleaved at the side of his neck.
As it goes to the sky, so does Alice's gaze, along with her illusion, sending it right after the dragon, Alice trying to imagine how her voice would sound. Wouldn't it sound beautiful? Wouldn't it beckon her love to stay with him? This is too cruel! She wished she could hear her family's voices again, imagining their voices that moment to press it into her illusion of love and reassurance rather than her parents' cries as they burned alive that night.
This is too much!
Alice is far too absorbed into her illusion and those feelings to notice that mana beam. It's bright, but so is her illusions, her mind at that moment delving further and further, brightening the image of the phoenix that she does nothing and doesn't even notice that direction of the beam that comes to her. Suddenly, the illusion starts to lose it's brightness, nearly fading to dust and Alice standing there, wondering where the sharp pain is coming from in her shoulder. Maybe she held onto her sword too tight? But then... why does it feel wet all the sudden? Rain?
It's only by luck Alice drops her gaze down to her sword, to see if it was secure, just out of the corner of her eye to notice the bright color of red blooming through the white of her jacket. Suddenly, the sharp pain in her shoulder makes sense and it grows to hurt more. Alice, who had gone through many things in her young life, didn't find the pain unbearable, neither did she wince or cry out as she notice the deep lash across her chest, to her shoulder.
Don't move, don't move...!
She does try to hold herself and her ground that half of minute of confusion and determination to hold her ground. She had been through worse, why would such a deep cut matter? Or was it a cut? It had to be a cut, the fabric was tearing. Her free hand drawing to her chest, the effort to stay where she is fails and the illusion is gone as Alice draws a breath and finds herself falling from her standing point. ]