[ There was a time where fighting was all Celes ever knew. While not born to fight, she was certainly made that way, and was quite good at it to say the very least. At one point, she may have been more cold toward those running away, barking at them to fight like their lives depended on it.
But strength didn't always mean the ability to be able to fight, she had come to realize, and she wasn't the same woman she was even a few months before.
Running alongside a group of unknown faces, her sword clattering at her side, the blond shot a quick look, and a quick bolt of magic, behind her, at their assailants. They were fast; they scarcely turned the corner and were confronted again with more masked men. They couldn't fight this force, that much was clear, but it they could hold them off until reinforcements arrived...
...If they arrived. ]
Dammit...
[ Unsheathing her sword, she faced down their assailants, her blade glowing gently. ]
Come on, keep moving! I'll cover your escape!
( B1. )
[ Celeste Winters, pale, athletic, and more than a bit severe. She was the mysterious sort in the media's eye, calm and collected, a perfectionist, and a woman of few (albeit somewhat opinionated) words. A real beauty, but cold as ice when the cameras were off. The opera star-turned contemporary superstar might have been a bit of a diva. Some said she ruined the lives of interns on a somewhat regular basis, and that her demands were beyond ridiculous.
This was, of course, blown out of proportion, as is what the media does, but not by too much. Lounging on one of the benches, a book held in her hand, the blond did her best to try to stay composed. Celeste took in a sharp breath from her nose, no longer reading the words on her page, but, rather, eyeing what was going on not too far from her. This was her time to unwind, and even though she was on vocal rest to prepare for her next performance, that didn't stop her from very, very loudly clearing her throat. ]
( B2. )
[ A sigh. This again? Were they really going on again about the tour bus being haunted? Seriously? Putting her cell phone down on the table, she cast a harsh look over her shoulder. ]
Would you knock it off already? No one actually believes any of that. Maybe instead of wasting your time telling ghost stories, you could be practicing. Your last performance was a disaster. You were pitchy, your dancing was sloppy, and not to mention—
[ Crash. Celeste jumped to her feet as something shattered not too far from where she sat. The blond woman looked around wildly, her shoulders held stiff, and pale complexion just a bit lighter. ]
Celes Chere | Final Fantasy VI
[ There was a time where fighting was all Celes ever knew. While not born to fight, she was certainly made that way, and was quite good at it to say the very least. At one point, she may have been more cold toward those running away, barking at them to fight like their lives depended on it.
But strength didn't always mean the ability to be able to fight, she had come to realize, and she wasn't the same woman she was even a few months before.
Running alongside a group of unknown faces, her sword clattering at her side, the blond shot a quick look, and a quick bolt of magic, behind her, at their assailants. They were fast; they scarcely turned the corner and were confronted again with more masked men. They couldn't fight this force, that much was clear, but it they could hold them off until reinforcements arrived...
...If they arrived. ]
Dammit...
[ Unsheathing her sword, she faced down their assailants, her blade glowing gently. ]
Come on, keep moving! I'll cover your escape!
( B1. )
[ Celeste Winters, pale, athletic, and more than a bit severe. She was the mysterious sort in the media's eye, calm and collected, a perfectionist, and a woman of few (albeit somewhat opinionated) words. A real beauty, but cold as ice when the cameras were off. The opera star-turned contemporary superstar might have been a bit of a diva. Some said she ruined the lives of interns on a somewhat regular basis, and that her demands were beyond ridiculous.
This was, of course, blown out of proportion, as is what the media does, but not by too much. Lounging on one of the benches, a book held in her hand, the blond did her best to try to stay composed. Celeste took in a sharp breath from her nose, no longer reading the words on her page, but, rather, eyeing what was going on not too far from her. This was her time to unwind, and even though she was on vocal rest to prepare for her next performance, that didn't stop her from very, very loudly clearing her throat. ]
( B2. )
[ A sigh. This again? Were they really going on again about the tour bus being haunted? Seriously? Putting her cell phone down on the table, she cast a harsh look over her shoulder. ]
Would you knock it off already? No one actually believes any of that. Maybe instead of wasting your time telling ghost stories, you could be practicing. Your last performance was a disaster. You were pitchy, your dancing was sloppy, and not to mention—
[ Crash. Celeste jumped to her feet as something shattered not too far from where she sat. The blond woman looked around wildly, her shoulders held stiff, and pale complexion just a bit lighter. ]
T, that wasn't funny! Which one of you did that?!