Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
· 🙤 •° · ︻╦デ╤━━╾ ·°• 🙦 ·
╔═════ °• ♔ •° ═════╗
❝ An old friend taught me that! ❞
╚═════ °• ♔ •° ═════╝
RUN. RUN, RUN, RUN. FASTER. Flare sprints down the sidewalk beside the main road. Dark plumes of smoke pump out of the nearby factories and drown the sky in gloomy clouds. Industrial machinery and first-generation cars hum as they speed down the street.
Flare weaves through the crowds of people bundled in coats and hats. Many turn to throw her a suspicious glance, before shaking their heads and looking away, resuming their mundane trek onward.
She's practically flying across the pavement—running as fast as humanly possible without careening into anyone walking past. Adrenaline floods her veins. The only audible sounds are her heart hammering and her feet pounding against the pavement.
It is a shame to say that this whirlwind of panic is nothing new. The terror has, in some twisted way, knitted itself into the tattered rags of a cyclical normalcy that plagues Flare's life—proving as inevitable as the shifting of seasons. Inescapable.
Because, for the past five years, she has been running.
It all started when Flare somehow time traveled all the way back to the peak of the Roman Empire. Shortly after, landing in the middle of a battlefield with deadly fireballs soaring overhead did they begin hunting her: strange, masked figures dressed in suits and ties, and never seen without a briefcase.
After escaping the warzone, Flare wandered aimlessly throughout the forest. Hours and hours passed until the sun rose. She thought she was going to die there, alone, with nothing to eat or drink—forever stranded in an unfamiliar place while walking the path of a slow and painful death.
Then, by some impossible string of luck, she emerged from the woods an eternity later to find herself on the outskirts of the Roman Capital. The sight of civilization made tears spring to her eyes. It felt like the biggest relief in the world.
But unbeknownst to her, the hardship was only just beginning.
Flare attempted to communicate with the people there, but found it impossible due to her lack of fluency in the Latin language. After speaking in what sounded like tongues (ancient Romans had no idea what English was back then), coupled with her odd clothing, it didn't take long before the citizens began accusing her of witchcraft. Needless to say, outrunning mobs of furious Romans was an exhausting task.
Their suspicions of her "sorcery" only grew stronger when she made the mistake of getting cornered in an alley, and had to resort to warping away with her pyrokinesis. Afterwards, she ended up having to flee the capital in order to save her life, and resorted to hiding out in a small village nearby.
