<div style="width: 100%; height: 550px; font-size: 12.5px; line-height: 23px; text-align: justify; box-sizing: border-box; background: url(https://wallpapercave.com/wp/HUODHX7.jpg); background-size: cover; background-position:center; padding: 15px; color: #fff; font-family:times;"><div style="height: 450px; overflow-y: auto;"><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span style="font-size: 26px"><i>Emmy</i></span></span></span><br/>
<span style="font-size: 26px"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><i>Mid June 2022 <br/>
Early Afternoon<br/>
Operations Room <br/>
(direct) -&gt; Idris, Addy<br/>
(indirect) -- Alissa, Tristan, Iris, Mother</i></span></span><br/>
<div class="bbImageWrapper lazyload js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="/proxy.php?image=https%3A%2F%2F64.media.tumblr.com%2F3ac96c09d2139207d227067c8ca75a7b%2Ftumblr_nlmoir603s1so2m4no1_250.gif&amp;hash=f964b5dd3d8801e3dead59c1c74b0594" title="tumblr_nlmoir603s1so2m4no1_250.gif">
<img alt="tumblr_nlmoir603s1so2m4no1_250.gif" class="bbImage lazyload" data-src="/proxy.php?image=https%3A%2F%2F64.media.tumblr.com%2F3ac96c09d2139207d227067c8ca75a7b%2Ftumblr_nlmoir603s1so2m4no1_250.gif&amp;hash=f964b5dd3d8801e3dead59c1c74b0594" data-url="https://64.media.tumblr.com/3ac96c09d2139207d227067c8ca75a7b/tumblr_nlmoir603s1so2m4no1_250.gif" data-zoom-target="1" height="" src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" style="" title="" width=""/>
<noscript><img alt="tumblr_nlmoir603s1so2m4no1_250.gif" class="bbImage" data-url="https://64.media.tumblr.com/3ac96c09d2139207d227067c8ca75a7b/tumblr_nlmoir603s1so2m4no1_250.gif" data-zoom-target="1" height="" src="/proxy.php?image=https%3A%2F%2F64.media.tumblr.com%2F3ac96c09d2139207d227067c8ca75a7b%2Ftumblr_nlmoir603s1so2m4no1_250.gif&amp;hash=f964b5dd3d8801e3dead59c1c74b0594" style="" title="" width=""/></noscript>
</div>
<br/>
<br/>
<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Emmy had almost been startled and failed to register the embrace of her older sister and Addy's scent drive into her nose before she blinked back into consciousness and focused her sight on the red mane filling her peripheral view. She could only raise her right forearm to Addy as the girl commended her efforts. Emmy however didn't feel the same. It may not have been a total disaster, but it certainly wasn't a display of The Cabal she'd known nor the family Mother threaded togetherin a weaving of fate. Neither group decided to show up today... just a bunch of vessels &amp; strangers. Ironically enough, the ever-distant Alissa was probably the only one who was genuine and true to her authentic self. Tristan would only ever be as well as his sister was now that she was back, it felt like the Tris she'd known was now once more abducted by guilt. Oh right, she'd almost forgotten to respond to Addy.</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"> "Not good enough apparently. It's fine, I'll sleep after I find out what <i>this </i>is. Later."</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"> Addy seemed more annoyed by Idris' voice yet again. Emmy's eyes went to Addy's face and saw the girl head out with mild contempt. Did she really have any weight to throw? They all left after all, even Addy. Sure, Emmy was pissed at one of the eldest sisters, but deep down a part of her could relate to the outcast treatment Idris seemed to be getting. But also, a part of Emmy was satisfied. Idris needed to realize the magnitude of her leaving. <br/>
<br/>
When Emmy heard Idris rolling a chair over beside her, the brunette had already released an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes in lassitude. Emmy was already preparing mentally for some sarcastic quips to return to her when she'd asked if she could speak for a moment. Swiftly, Emmy turned her chair to Idris with a disposition of bolshier. </span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">"Idris really I--" </span></span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">She stopped. She knew that look. It was a look she'd seen on herself many nights in the bathroom mirror alone for four years. But it was also a look she'd never seen on Idris before. Idris looked wounded, not of the flesh.. but of the soul. Her entire body language was something Emmy didn't even have to soup herself to breakdown: the girl was carrying a lot of hurt. In that moment, Emmy wanted so bad to be her usual spicy self, and deliever some justice of sarcasm and karma. But the volcano seemed idle for the moment. Instead Emmy was met with a wall of emotion, a tsumani really. Her throat tightened at seeing her trademark look on someone else for a change, let alone a sibling. Let alone the sibling who was supposed to be with her that night. <br/>
<br/>
Something told Emmy, that in this moment if she were to cast Idris away.. the damage could be gradually decaying to irreparable. Like a poison. Emmy would know. It's what happened to her when she woke up one morning years ago and truly realized she was own her own. </span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">"You think a puppy dog demeanor is going to just make me want to talk to you now?" </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Emmy says, internally clashing with herself over the two sides yearning for control. After a moment she sighed.. not so much relented. Not yet. </span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">"What do you expect me to say Idris? What do we have to talk about? If you feel whatever about leaving or carry some sort of guilt or shame don't. As you can see, I'm fine. I made it. I've been making it."</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"> Fine of course was releative, seeing as how most siblings had already jointly recognized Emmy might not have been taking care of herself in ways. She could empathize, seeing your baby sister with cuts and bruises knowing she could accelerate her healing is worrysome. But also, seeing your baby sister who has been literally stuck in the same place for years on end seem scarily sane and okay is another grave indicatior that everything might not be as it seems. Emmy knew that's what they all thought, even Idris. </span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">"Fourteen. I was fourteen. Iris fifteen. Had we been <i><b>any </b></i>other teen on the planet..."</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"> Emmy refocuses after a sigh.</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"> "You left. You all did. What's worse is I <i>knew </i>it was coming... I could see it all over you all. To choose a life away, knowing you had the luxury of one. I didn't. Not even an explanation. I didn't deserve even that much?"</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"> A tinge of fire erupted deep within her. Emmy closed her eyes. <br/>
<br/>
<i>No, control. Focus. </i><br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">"You know in that night Mother was killed, I actually allowed myself to believe you when you said it's going to be okay?"</span> It was the last time Emmy would feel safe and secure from that point. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">"Even when you looked at me like I failed... like I was a failure...even when you questioned me then like you all question me now." </span></span></span><br/>
<span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"></span><br/>
<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"><i>Which I am. <br/>
You failed, Keylee. <br/>
It's why they left you. Alone. </i></span></span><br/>
<span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"><span style="font-size: 15px"><i>Mind the volcano. </i><br/>
<br/>
Emmy realized her fists were balled airtight, her forearms trembling as she released her firm grip in realization of this. She was tired. So very tired. Tired from lack of rest. Tired from isolation. Tired from expectations. Tired from trying. Tired from anger. And yet and still, she operated from sheer willpower and subconsious resolve.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">"I did what I could to keep the faith. And look what came of it. So honestly if you just want a reason to pity then <i>save it</i>. " </span><br/>
<br/>
She knew she was projecting. She wanted to care. But, if she was going to drown in a pool of lava it might as well be on her accord and strength. The baby gem was hardened way past its intention.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">"So whatever it is that's eating away at you... was it worth it? I can clearly see it on your face. So what is it, Idris?" </span></span></span><br/>
<br/>
<br/>​</div></div></div>