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 Posted: Sat Apr 26, 2014 3:40 pm
Actions spoke louder than words.
Hel still held this notion close to her core. Growing up it had been nothing but action. Words had no place in her world, but coming to Amityville had changed this idea that had been so engrained in her. During her time at Amity, she learned the power of words as well. Words that could make or break others. Words that carried weight, and could cut worse than any weapon ever could. She had been on both ends of kind and unkind words. She had dished kind and unkind words, and she had been on the receiving end of kind and unkind words. She knew the impact, whether it be good or bad, and through learning this, she respected the power of words.
Still, though, she held to the idea that actions spoke louder than words. She had let this get away from her over the past year. She’d been so caught up on focusing on words, she often let slip what others were doing for her, and would become upset when the words she wanted to hear were not spoken. She was missing the actions, and if she had been paying more attention to the actions, she would have realized the answers she had wanted were there. She had let a lot of things get away from her over the past year, but it was time, now, to reestablish what she valued.
Being out of Amityville for these past few months helped to reaffirm that the school chapter of her life was over, and the start of a new chapter was beginning. On the verge of starting her guild and moving forward, she needed to get a firm grasp on what was to come, of the future and of herself.
Hel needed one last push.
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Posted: Wed Apr 30, 2014 6:39 pm
She was over the transition, but to get to where she wanted to be, she needed one last push. Maybe this was what could be called ‘finding one’s self’. But…maybe not quite as drastic. Hel knew she was in sight, she just needed the extra push to grasp her. Oddly enough, she felt she may have found it in the talk she had with Mot over dinner on Frightday night.
It was a Spookday now though, and with nothing pressing to do, Hel was still at home. She headed downstairs from her room, walked into the entry way to slip on her more worn walking boots, and headed out the front door. She passed Mot, who was lounging on the porch with a pout because the country life was draining him, and she ruffled his fluffy head before she hopped off the porch and headed to the woods. She loved walking still, and with acres upon acres of land to do so, she did. She loved her home. The cottage was her pride and joy, in addition to the beautiful land her home rested upon.
It was funny, she supposed, that even though she disowned her own family and tried to distance herself from them and what she grew up as, that there were things from her upbringing that carried over. Like having a home in the country.
Hel continued on her way, the clear grassy land soon turning into trees as she entered the wooded area. The reaper walked, and walked, and walked, her mind drifting here and there until she came upon one of the many streams on her lands, and at the water’s edge she stilled, and just stared at the water as the sound of running water filled her ears. The sound kind of reminded her of something…her brows furrowed briefly as she recalled it. Her gaze went unfocused as the sound of the stream turned into a pot of boiling water, and she recalled the memory:
Hel was sitting at the kitchen table of her family home, stuffing her face with all kinds of food. Her appetite had gone through the roof since she returned, and she swore she was…growing, someway some how, and not just in accomplishments. Her mother tended to the large boiling pot which contained the stew her family would be eating for dinner later. She had returned home immediately after passing her second year exam, just to check in of sorts…but also to be able to come home and say she was accomplishing something during her time at Amityville. Things her family never dreamed of before. Hel always wanted that recognition, and she was receiving it. She was no longer stuck in the shadows of her sisters, and she was being recognized for something other than her dual-toned nature.
She had received a great surprise as well, when out of the blue her mother had just started to speak. She told her youngest that she was proud of her, that she had grown in her short time at Amityville thus far, she spoke to her of when she had been born, of when her mother had been uncertain and even fearful of her youngest when she came from her pumpkin cursed. Her mother spoke of how Freya boldly stepped forward and welcomed her into the world, of how she held her tiny dark fingers in her pale hand, and how this would affect how her mother treated her. The talk then turned towards urging Hel to continue to pursue whatever it was she wanted, and what the future may bring.
It was a great and triumphant return home, especially after that talk. It truly was…but something about it had felt off to the ghoul. She missed Amityville a lot and she found that while those words were something she had been wanting to hear for a very long time…they didn’t satisfy her, deep down.
Then a wedding happened…and then her wings were taken from her by a hunter, and then down the road, the curse took over her appearance entirely, and after that she had cut her hair for the first time ever in her life. The symbol of a Valkyrie’s prowess, her hair, cut short with a few quick snips, and after she had gotten over the shock, she’d never been so happy with it.
Somewhere in there, during this passage of time, the feelings she had kept deep down since she was a wee scareling bubbled up. She was angry with her family. So angry. She was angry for also being held down and back. For always being put in the shadows of her sisters. She was mad they never had any expectations of her and for her. She was mad they were so closed minded and only cared about petty and trivial things. They would never grow outside of the community in which they lived.
They would forever be ignorant fools.
She’d never go back.
She didn’t want to see them again.
She didn’t care.
She’d cut them out and move on with her life.
It had been a very rash and bold decision she had made at a time in which she had been very angry. She wondered, now, if it had been too rash, too harsh…but she let herself think about, without anger, if she truly wanted to see and speak to her family again…
…She didn’t.
She didn’t feel that thin bond she had anymore. She didn’t feel any connection. If they saw her now…maybe they wouldn’t even recognize her. She didn’t associate herself in any way with them anymore. Maybe it was cruel. She thought of her mother, who was possibly wondering what happened to her youngest daughter, and she felt a bit guilty. A bit…but maybe, since she had never heard anything from them, since they never came to Amityville…maybe her mother just knew.
Hel gasped, startling herself out of her gaze. Her eyes widened. Maybe her mother just knew…and maybe her mother had let her go to live her own life. Maybe…
Maybe. She’d never know. She didn’t care to. She was letting it go.
She had a parental figure in her life now who she felt more close to than anyone in her family, aside from Freya, of course. This parental figure was filling the gap, and maybe it was a bit sad her ‘family’ only consisted now of her sister and a Famine Sage but…
Hel was happy with that. Happier than she’d ever been with anything regarding familial matters.
The reaper’s posture relaxed from when she had surprised herself earlier, and her eyes lidded as she stared out over the stream.
She was happy with the way things were right now, and Mot was right. She was her own person, and what her family had valued didn’t reflect on her anymore, nor did she have anything to prove to them.
This was her last push.
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