gunah | (no subject)

(no subject)

A flower falls even though we love it;
Weed grows even though we do not love it.

Yeah. It's a thing. I'll show you a trick later.

[Because she thinks lighting herself on fire wouldn't be very conducive to a relaxing imagination session.

She does wonder, though, what Shuyi is trying to do. She's not unfamiliar with illusions, as there are people in her world that can create them, but something tells her Shuyi isn't quite trying to do the same.

She'll find out soon enough, she figures.]

[ Shuyi has no skill with illusions, unless it's of the verbal kind, but then those are called something else. Something less magical. This is nothing of the sort.

If allowed, she would shift her hands so that she may press an index finger against the inside of Hanna's wrist and adjust the other woman's hands to do the same. This way they can hear each other's heartbeats, mismatched for now until Shuyi makes the conscious effort to match her company's. This is easy. As easy as breathing by now. Her own hand may be calloused, with layer upon layer of raised scars, more fitting for a stoneworker than a girl, but her grip is gentle and her humming reverberates through her entire body right down to the tips of her fingers.

The melody is strange but subdued, steady and changing in tune very slowly. It has no words. ]

[Hanna had always loved music. It had been her passion, once, before the world shredded her dreams.

The melody is low, rhythmic, something altogether foreign. The beat is strangely calming, perhaps because it reminds her of what she once was: a girl chasing after a rhythm to call her own.

Shuyi's skin doesn't seem suited for someone to work with such a calming technique, but Hanna makes no comment. She knows more than anyone how looks can deceive.

She continues to stay silent, not wanting to break Shuyi's concentration. She can manage to say quiet at least.]

[ Hanna isn't ailing or suffering from fatigue, unlike the people she commonly tries to help, but there's still some benefit in returning to a calmer state of mind.

Consciously and gradually, she slows her own heartbeat to the pace of one deep in slumber, the fingers placed on the other woman's wrist sending the signal (is it chemical or is it closer to magic?) for Hanna to follow suit. The exercise isn't foolproof even for someone of her own kind so she can't guarantee that it would work for Hanna, but that won't stop her from trying.

Her humming dissipates into silence without a clear end and when she opens her eyes and smiles, it's as if the tune still lingers in the air, just waiting to be recalled. ]

How do you feel?

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