This world's got everything to offer but it owes you nothing

Drinking from a bitter cup, burying the bottles with the bones

The answer that lifts from the sand wears an innocence and an ignorance Colt simply doesn't buy. She knows exactly whose voice it is attached to and how capable its owner can be. The sound of it pulls Colt's attention that way, her head turning first before she loses track of it, her body soon following, angling better towards the source. "Not the creature," she clarifies. The words drag themselves past the tight clench of her teeth, scraping off along the way until they're rough and thin. "You."

There's something uniquely aggravating about being forced to direct a scowl at thin air. That Nova maintains her invisibility even still only rankles Colt further, the choice feeling less like precaution now than evidence of her further fucking around. "You almost got us all cleaved in two because you thought this was the time to crack a joke, Nova. This isn't a game. It isn't a fucking good time. These are our lives on the line." Tightness seats itself on her shoulders after she slides her weaponry back behind her. One freed hand cuts sharply toward the wreckage of the caravan. "You saw what this thing did." The gesture lingers. "Those are bodies lying in the sand." The carnage remains sprawled across the desert near them, a lesson written in splintered wood and blood already drying into the wind and heat. A few bad decisions, a few seconds too slow, that's all it takes to be the same.

---

Colt

I kept the pain, now I only feel alive inside the flame

I will not be another flower, picked for my beauty and left to die.

'You.'

The clarification snaps against her emotions like a slap in the face, her spine straightening to hear the vehemence of the tone. Her relationship with Colt hasn't been great. Nova still partially blames her for Vesper's absence, for making him sad enough to leave her and Caly, for not being as awesome as she'd thought; but the rancher has never spoken to her like this. She's never sounded so angry. 

Unaware that she was still invisible, Nova crosses her arms against the attack, lips pursed and eyes narrowed as Colt berates her for attracting the attention of the creature. She doesn't laugh as the woman points the wrong direction, doesn't seem to realize that the woman can't tell that she hadn't been trying to get anyone hurt. 

Her eyes scan the wreckage, spotting the bodies now that she's closer. The blood and death doesn't bother her, but it does show her how close she'd been to getting them killed - to getting herself killed - and Nova has to look away, not wanting to think about that even when Colt tries to shove her face in it, not wanting to acknowledge how little she'd managed to do to prevent it. 

"I didn't think it would hear me..." she mutters, a stubbornness lacing her tone even if no one can see the set in her shoulders or the furrow of her brows. "And everyone else turned out okay..." Other than the dead bodies. She glances to Kaisel and Liam as they depart. As much as she doesn't like Kaisel, she's not sure she would have wanted him dead because of her.

Nova

I will be wild, difficult to find, and impossible to forget.

Drinking from a bitter cup, burying the bottles with the bones

"That's right," her voice pursues Nova's swiftly, little breathing room allowed when it so easily could have been a final breath here. "You didn't think." Harm does not require an invitation. Thoughtlessness can leave behind as many bodies as malice, and it's all the more cruel for not bearing any proper consideration. "If you don't know shit about the thing except it's dangerous, why risk anything other than your every thought." Her hand snaps back to her side, palm slapping her pantleg with the same sharpness of her voice.

A stillness grips her for a moment, appearing to calm. In actuality, she's fighting back the rising incredulity that rears up inside her, the force of it threatening to unseat her entirely. Fingers curl in against fabric, drawing wrinkles that mirror the tension of her patience. "Everyone else only turned out okay because of Ronin and Remi!" Colt spits out, unable to reconcile how they'd shared the same experience, yet Nova stands so close to the grave and manages little better than a shrug. "They saved our asses this time, but this easily could have gone another way." Her lips tighten at the edges, gaze narrowing as she regards the emptiness where Nova should be standing. It beckons a disapproving shake of her head, her arms folding against her chest, as though putting another barrier between herself and the stupidity of the whole situation.

"Fuck's sake Nova, you're not even taking this seriously." Her words slip out past her teeth, as cold and furious as a blade. "You think yourself invincible? All powerful?" A scoff at the girl's arrogance, unable to imagine another explanation for it. "Your mother might be a god, but you aren't." Her words are not gentled, but they've grown thinner, exhausted in the way one gets after having to explain fire is hot. "Grow up." The plea buried inside the words is tamped flat beneath the weight of her irritation. "Or one day it'll be you turning the ground red, and you've got far too many people that care about you to be so reckless."

Colt

I kept the pain, now I only feel alive inside the flame

I will not be another flower, picked for my beauty and left to die.

With no excuse for her carelessness, Nova mounts her defense in an invisible flinch that hardens into the set of her jaw, eyes choosing not to look at Colt when she's battered by the reprimand. She could probably have argued that she didn't think it was dangerous before seeing the bodies, but that wouldn't be the truth, not when she'd seen the vicious length of its claws and the eyes that looked less than friendly. The corpses would have just confirmed the strange instinct tingling in her thoughts. In truth, she hadn't thought much beyond the excitement of something dangerous and new, and she won't be making that mistake again, even without Colt's harsh words.

She raises her eyes as Colt stills, getting a face full of outrage gripping the woman, her words digging the knife deeper in Nova's gut. She'd been useless, only managing to blow hot air while the demigods cleaned up her mess. Even Kaisel landed a crucial hit while she'd done nothing. It's embarrassing and frustrating and so shameful that a flush creeps up to stain her invisible cheeks. An indignant mutter falls heavy in the space between them, unable to convey the depth of her wounded pride. "I know that."

The next accusation doesn't feel fair and Nova straightens her spine against the assault. "I am taking this seriously!" In fact, she's taking it more seriously than anything in her life. She knows people could have died - she knows she could have died. Any signs of the playful teasing are long gone, suffocated by the crushing reality that Colt appears determined to force down her throat.

"No." The word is small, a piece of delicate fabric against a raging storm, ripped away before it has a chance to land. It's a pathetic representative of the self-awareness she's become more acquainted with in recent weeks, something she's sure Colt wouldn't know or understand, something she wouldn't care about.

But just when she thinks the woman might be done eviscerating her in the sand for a poorly timed joke, the words 'Grow up' pierce her chest with all the cruelty of a blunt arrow. She falls quiet, eyes downcast as if she might see the fletching sticking out, like she might see the physical proof of her pain. The mention of her loved ones should be a gentle hand to soften the blow, but it feels like someone snapping off the end of the arrow, determined to lodge it deep enough to take root.

Her glittery boots and colorful outfit feel suddenly childish, a gross reminder of who she is and all the ways she seems to be focusing on the wrong things, disappointing people. Sniffing loudly, she crosses her arms against the chill. Nova rocks back in the sand, wanting to find distance from the juvenile part of her being attacked. "I should go," she whispers to no one in particular, still looking anywhere but Colt or the bodies littering the sand.

Nova

I will be wild, difficult to find, and impossible to forget.

Drinking from a bitter cup, burying the bottles with the bones

Nova's words land like a spit of rain over a fire. Not enough to douse it entirely, but enough to turn the blaze into something lower, smokier. The anger remains, but its edges have gone dull and low. Each thing out of Nova's mouth still managed to sound petulant. Claims to already know, which leaves Colt to wonder if she's just unwilling then. States she's taking it seriously, while still using invisible lips, as if this is nothing more than a round of hide and seek.

For a long moment, Colt says nothing. Then a breath leaves her, long and heavy, carrying with it some measure of the heat she'd been holding onto. "Yeah, if you've no interest in helping look for survivors, that's probably for the best." Her gaze drifts past the place where Nova stands hidden, settling on the splintered caravan and the bodies half-swallowed by sand.

Without waiting for an answer, Colt turns toward the wreckage. Her stride is long and filled with purpose, and each set of heel into the ground helps press the ire back into a manageable shape. When she nears the wreckage, joining Kaisel and Liam, she filters wordlessly into their flow. Boots sink softly into the sand as she picks her way through the debris, eyes searching for movement, for breath, for anything that might still be saved. Hopefully Nova proves to be one of them.

Colt

I kept the pain, now I only feel alive inside the flame

I will not be another flower, picked for my beauty and left to die.

The silence does nothing to ease her suffering, embarrassment turning to shame and darker still to devour the light of her. When Colt finally speaks again, it spurs her into action, a quiet unknown nod of her head that's nothing compared to the buoyancy she usually possesses. She feels drained and numb, hollowed out and aching as if she'd fought a thousand monsters and lost every battle. 

Whether it's to look for survivors or to force herself to stare into the vacant eyes and imagine them as her own, Nova's feet begin to move of their own accord. They guide her through the remnants of the caravan, paying little attention to what surrounds her. She doesn't hide the shift of sand beneath his boots or the soft sniffles that flow from her invisible form where no one can see the heavy weight of her thoughts.

[FIN]

Nova

I will be wild, difficult to find, and impossible to forget.