[se] don't lose your sheen

MELITA

Melita couldn’t help the infinite wrinkling of her nose over the prospects of the Grounds, given she suspected there wouldn’t be any found. “It’s too bad, I guess. It could’ve been not shitty once.” But in between the monsters, the upheavals, the struggles for power, the war, and anything else traumatic and ridiculous, the world had been turned over and not in a good way.

Trusting the Honeybee at all might’ve been another brash endeavor, but she permitted a fanged grin as the staff jostled the rock open, and all the archaic, primordial designs in the void couldn’t have matched the pinnacle of red dazzling before them. “Oooh gimme,” she hooted with extended fingers, eager to grab and take. “What’re you going to do with yours?”

You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun

PHOEBE

"I suppose once upon a time it wasn't. Long before we were here." she said with a sigh. Before the first war. Before the Voice. Before. That was the epitome of what the Hollowed Grounds represented. It was a before place, not a now place. So why this Jack thout the Hollowed Grounds was a worthwhile venture, she and Melita might never know.

But the Nightingale laughed at Melita's excitement and insistence, handing her up one half of the rock. "Here you are, we split the spoils." she said with a grin as she stood. "I don't know. My niece agreed to help me craft something though." she said with a shrug. "What about you?"

Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?

MELITA

Melita had a difficult time imagining what the Grounds must’ve been like before the Voice, before they were all clustered together with nowhere to go. “Oh well. Its someone else’s problem now,” she uttered, a shrug of indifference coasting through her shoulders. Worlds without barriers. Had the gods been different then? How had the world worked and laid out? Maybe one day she’d pry open those books littered in Stormbreak – actually find out the history of this earth.

But not today.

Because that was for rubies and goodies.

Hands greedily grasped hold of the beautiful gems and jewels, grin avaricious and Cheshire. “Maybe a nice ring,” and she could put one into brass knuckles and punch someone’s face with it! Who wouldn’t want a broken nose or a shiner from a ruby? Or another dagger, because people always needed more than...like five. “You could fashion it into a necklace.” Seemed like a Phoebe thing.

You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun

PHOEBE

"That's true." Phoebe agreed with a sigh. Though frankly she didn't know anyone who called the Hollowed Grounds home anymore. Hence the confusion about this expedition Melita was to go on. Either way it didn't matter in the moment. There were rubies to be had!

"A ring would be nice." she agreed with a smile. Of course she had no clue that by ring Melita meant brass knuckles. Not that she would have minded. Whatever floated her boat. It was no skin off her back nor her business. "Maybe" she said in response to the comment of a necklace. "Or maybe a hair comb." Though really the conjecture was pointless. She would wait and see what Flora said.

"Thanks for coming on this little adventure with me." she said with a grin. But now it was time to head back home.

Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?

MELITA

Already contemplating violence with her newest find, her mind was far and away from the Hollowed Grounds. “A hair comb,” she muttered, as if the notions of brushing one’s hair or making it the height of fashion had never dawned on her. Shrugging her shoulders, she pocketed the crimson flares of minerals with astonishing speed – as if greedy little goblin fingers or a crow brain had been activated and ready to fly. “You’re welcome!” She chirped in return. “We can head back if want,” because the Honeybee was busy forming a thousand other scenarios and necessities for these shiny figments.

{FIN}

You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun