the lines which had fallen from the elder’s mouth carry veracity. because while nyx is nothing close to a good person, and hardly ever performs genuine acts, even she can’t find it in herself to deny. it’s an opinion, but to her, it’s a fact. though she gets the feeling plenty would beg to differ. believers exist, claiming that all good deeds will be acknowledged in the end. but who knows for sure? she admires those people for their faith.. yet even that won’t get them anywhere if things aren’t as they thought. they’ll die for their theories, for ideas they’ve got no way of proving until it’s too late. some will call it brave.. say there’s nothing to life if you can’t put your confidence in something. but nyx? she thinks it’s pathetic. a waste of energy, of patience. carrying out a good deed and being repaid for it half a century later isn’t efficient to her. and her thoughts on this seem to be quite big at the moment. her mind pieces it together like some elaborate thing, like it makes sense, like it won’t change. truthfully, though, she’s naive in that sense. thoughts are always subject to change, apparently. it’s unfortunate that this is how her brain works. instead of coming up with simple concepts, she’s the one who brainstorms obscure hypotheses. this is why she tires so quickly. she’s damaging herself. draining the life right out of the soul she thinks she doesn’t own anymore.
except she’s definitely got one. that’s why she gave in. why she answered the call of help. it was like a scene in a movie, really. one second nyx is enjoying a meal and the next she’s performing the heimlich. hadn’t even hesitated. strange for someone who says she’s selfish, ain’t it? ‘ i only care about myself. ’ a lot of the time she’ll act like it, too. but she’s got her moments. those times where the sincere, pure being in her shines through. people always act so.. humble, in situations like this. they brush it off like saving a life isn’t something huge. the idea of faith becomes more and more stupid to her by the minute. these strangers rely on the ones around them to help when they’re in need. not everyone will come to your rescue, though. next time she might not be so generous. because she’d just saved a life, and received nothing in return. not a single thank you. the crowd that formed to watch disperses and goes back to their tables without sparing a second glance in her direction. it’s heartbreaking. but.. since when did she care? ❝ they should feel indebted to me. ❞ she’s glaring. people always say life is precious. guess it’s not like that for everyone. and she might be a pretty good piece of evidence. ❝ i didn’t see anybody else rushing to their side. ❞
⊰ ✿ ⊱ — Call her vacuous, mindless even for not understanding the ways of others. Beguile was the ways of others but did no suspect come to mind when speaking of the latter. She had good will, though she wouldn’t claim it herself. Instead mistaken was it for purity, goodness where delved in the abyss of it all was the tears she’d shed over the years. Was she silly to miss that ? What it too unfair for her not to understand that not everyone saw eye to eye. Peace was deadly, uncontrollable even if it was wished for in the world — in her world. Demand caved in good will ; for most, it seemed that way anyway. goodness out of the picture when it came to putting their own needs in front of others ; it took away from true morals, the bliss from helping another. ( could people no longer see that goodness came with giving ? ) intolerable it seemed for flora. To know that there were such ungrateful people out there that didn’t care for a single good deed. A life laid out on a golden platter they must have had unlike most that walked the streets. A cold and agonising wait for reassurance left them dreading interactions because these lower class people were only worthless were they not ? Instead, the lesser were aimed at with words of dread, cunning smiles and freedom which they could obtain because they didn’t have to fight each day to keep their life the same. Where was the honour in that ? to eat off the hard work of others only to take credit for it instead. Mistakes could not happen in that world. oh no, because that would mean having to say sorry. ( and such great people wouldn’t ever want to degrade themselves to such a level. )
Maybe her judgement was blinded by WANTING to see the good in all ; whereas when those are ungrateful towards someone who had good will. ( because she had silver in her eyes, strong morals of meaning where to be good was to act well. To be helpful was to help. ) She too understood why she herelf held so mch importance for good deeds. Lived’ a time of o’ lonely isolation ! she wanted to let that burden free. There were too many risks that she would undertake if she didn’t learn to give and understand when she didn’t get anything back ; but for others where she did not know of their own sadness cased a swift brew of unsettlement and anger instead. An obstreperous normality to words of regret. ❛ Maybe so… ❜ There’s a sigh in her tone ; warm tresses falling down the soft shape of her face and lips tugged down into a frown. Even flora understood there was people too far up in their minds to see those who are willing to help and ignore it as though it was customary service. ❛ But do know
—
i thank you for what you did, even if they dont do it themselves. Sometimes being nice doesn’t always pay off, but just look at is as though it is a fruit tree ; if you don’t try and see, how will you know which pieces of fruit are ripe and which ones the ones that still need time to grow ? you wont be able to tell. So even though this time your help wasn’t noticed, next time may be a different story. ❜