» text

[tilfrosset]

Type: Text
Sender ID: tilfrosset (Jill Warrick)
To: Public
Subject: Clive's Departure
Warnings: Possible mentioning spoilers for the end of FF16? Let me know if you want to avoid them.

Good evening, all. This is Jill Warrick.

While I do not enjoy announcing bad news, I am aware he had a fair number of acquaintances who should be notified that Clive Rosfield has left. It seems his last day here was yesterday, perhaps early this morning.

[If this all sounds cold and businesslike, it's on purpose. It's far easier to pretend that she hasn't been crying her eyes out all day through text than any other method of communication.]

With that said, though we did not have plans for a grand event, I must also announce that there will be no wedding. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause.

[Inconvenience? Sounding like she's putting others out as if she's not the one who lost her other half. But of course, years of hardening her heart against emotional disruptions sure taught her how to fake it until she makes it. Or at least attempt to, badly. She's experienced loss before, but this? It's different.]

Comments

[tilfrosset]

[She's far too busying heaving as much ice towards Cid as possible to protect her eyes from the flash that blinds her. Jill screams, her voice hoarsely entangled with Shiva's, and throws an arm across her face to protect herself. A bit too late for that, plus it opens her torso up for Cid's next act, one Jill takes the full brunt off.

It's enough, though. Enough to knock Jill off her feet and along the wooden floor of her apartment, where she skids to a stop just before hitting the wall. Thank the gods for friction. Thank them also that she seems to have been shocked (literally and figuratively) into submission, where she's back to the non-glow of a Dominant in semi-prime, but looking rightfully roughed up. Her hair lies everywhere, her shirt and skirt are ripped and torn, and her cheeks are tear-streaked and ruddy.

But she's breathing. That's a good thing.]

[ramuhs]

[With a heaving breath he stares down at Jill with a complicated expression before his aether blinks and fizzles out around him as he shifts back. Instinctively his hand goes up to his mouth, but fortunately he didn't use enough of his aether to cause a coughing fit, so nothing comes. So instead he rubs his face briefly before he moves off of her, taking a moment to catch his breath.]

Oh, Jill... I'm so sorry.

[He'll slowly reach down and gently touch her cheek with the back of his hand before lightly brushing away those tear stains, and Torgal will slowly approach with a slow whine, nosing her. Acts that he feels are far too familiar, shared between Benedikta and Clive in a time that feels so long ago now. And of course he can't just leave her like this, so whether she's conscious or not he's already taking off his jacket to at least put over her first.]