Day 21: Calamitas in THAT dress.
I've been meaning to draw someone in this dress and I was planning on an actual oc, but, y'know, Calamitas. I think it'd be neat for her to actually do girlish things like wear dresses and whatnot, because we ALL know she'd wear suits for her formal attire (or just go in her regular outfit).
I think it'd be a neat thing to explore eventually, with her slowly letting herself experience things again, so maybe she'd actually wear things like dresses or use ties for her hair (outside of ones for practical use). Just sort of live the life she should've when she was younger rather than... well, what happened, I suppose.
I don't think she'll ever recover that part of herself.
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She hardly waited.
The door was crumbling, no longer fully supported by the magic that formed it. With its caster long buried, it would take a mere thousand years for these memories to crumble into dust, forgotten and unable to be recovered.
She recalled the scents of home. How the few flowers on the cabinetry released a scent all too similar to brimstone, how the sizzling of meat in the kitchen clued her into if they were going to eat something from the overworld or under, how the ash in her mouth tasted somehow different, simply because it was here.
Because it was home.
The rooms still flowed into the others the same way. The walls may be cracked, the paint may be faded, and the dust may be layered, but it was always the same. Nothing about it had changed, except for one of the people who'd lived here before.
She'd changed greatly, having undergone over five centuries of life since her return to this place.
Yet, she still remembered the laughter that once filled this home. The life she once held with everyone else within it. It was nothing to grieve. Though, she still missed those she shared it with.
Slowly, she walked through the dining room, and the table she used to sit at and eat with her family was crumbled into splinters. It was far too shaped to remain whole, but the hardened ash making it up was as coarse as ever.
She found her feet carrying her to the stairs, slowly ascending them whilst lost in her own memories.
The cadence of her steps echoing through the old house sounded similar to her father's slow, mechanical movements, unlike her mother's, which were faster and more erratic. She no longer hated comparing herself to her father, since she could understand everything he'd done. She just wished she didn't.
Reaching the top of the stairs, she found a multitude of rooms that had broken or missing doors. Perhaps this place had been ransacked at some point... But likely not. No one traversed beneath the Third Hill. No one without a death wish, and no one explicitly searching for loot. There was only magic here, nothing more than a dream for an archeologist in a thousand years, searching for lost tomes of sorcery.
She found herself looking through the doors as she passed by them, seeing old rooms and even older memories. Sieg has once accidentally punched a hole through the wall to Hoen's bedroom. That's how he learned his magical talent. Mother was quite happy for the first night, but when he began to do it daily she quickly lost her temper with him and made the house punch him back whenever he struck it. Calamitas was too young to truly appreciate her mother's whimsy.
She passed the memory by.
Hoen knocked a vase over once. The only vase in the house, bought on a whim by her father to impress mother. Mother had come home to a destroyed vase on the floor and three kneeling children, looking sullen and guilty for destroying it. Calamitas was too young not to be blamed by the two older boys, though, mother had merely laughed and kissed the three of them on the forehead.
She let the memory go.
She remembered an old memory, of a day she didn't look fondly on.
"Cal! Hurry up, or we'll leave you behind!" The raucous voice of her infuriating brothers had once shouted from the front door.
"If I'm going out, I'm going to make a good first impression!" Calamitas, child that she was, was too focused on that when she was before the mirror, combing through her hair.
"Are you being for real!? We're not meeting anyone! We're just looking at the stars, which you've begged for, remember? Have you even changed out of your bunny pajamas!?"
Calamitas remembered pausing with her brush, looking down, and seeing her bunny pajamas. She spent the next half a minute gritting her teeth and angrily brushing through the knots in her hair, though it wasn't very effective. "Those darn jerks..."
The memory floated away, and Calamitas was stood before that very same mirror.
It had tiny cracks on one side. Calamitas looked at herself from an angle she never anticipated. She took up the entire mirror with her adult figure, having grown too much from those days of being blissfully unaware of what the world held.
She recalled the angry face she once held as she rabidly brushed her steadily growing hair and smiled tenderly.
It was a very old memory, but seeing how much everything had changed truly put it into perspective how much she was no longer that little girl. But...
It was still the same mirror, despite it being cracked.
It was still the same house, despite being aged.
And she was still her, despite everything she'd done.
(I was somehow inspired by my own art to write a tiny snippet for it, so, uh, here you go, lmaoo Also this is day 19 of my daily art shit)
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