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Character of the Season
Once known as the Butcher of Whitebrim, he's now The Butcher of Dygra, stepping forward as the first created demigod of the Ancients. There is no question that Astaroth casts an intimidating silhouette. Tall, domineering and dangerous, if looks could kill you'd be dead already, but to get up close and personal with the Grounds' resident cannibal tells a much different story. Dripping with charm and clad in only the finest attire, Asta is a gentleman monster, as polite as they come and committed to his role as security for the Dusklight and those who have earned his loyalty. Be careful of that smile, though - those teeth are sharp.
Congratulations, Asta!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
OG Skinning provided by Kaons, with functionality and many custom plugins made by Neowulf!
“Okay, see, that wasn’t bad at all,” Melita could utter with all the confidence in the world after their skijoring runs; like she hadn’t narrowly avoided catastrophe and Kaisel hadn’t soared like he was a professional. She even donned a wicked grin for her efforts, pretending her body wasn’t wincing after the monumental attempts to not faceplant into the snow. Portions of her frame were certainly tight and she had some aches and pains where she didn’t know such muscles existed, but nonetheless, successful (no one died) efforts.
At that, she glided into Safrin’s Mirror with little hesitation. Any misgivings had been forged onward long ago due to Iskra’s influence, the power of mischief, and the incoming tales Flora surely had. Tucking her hair upwards into a messy bun and letting the crimson tassels far where they may, she launched directly into the warmth of the pool, her Ludo-inspired bikini, complete with patterns of cats, robes, and the herald’s mask, making a modest and ridiculous fashion statement all at once.
As the warm water swarmed around her and began tending to the aches, she leaned back against the edges and stone, smile beginning to build until it was a seditious and proud demeanor, casting endless curiosities towards the new demigod. “All right. Tell me everything.”
Flora’s grin flashes bright enough to belong somewhere much warmer than Halo, all aqua-eyed mischief and snow-bright triumph as she nods at Melita like, yes, obviously they have both survived something terribly athletic and therefore deserve immediate praise, applause, and probably compensation. "Honestly? It went way better than I thought it would," she says, because as much as she would love to pretend she’d had absolute faith in the whole thing from the start, she is not currently trying to lie through her teeth while wearing a ring that would burn her finger off for doing so. "I am hella sore though, so this was the perfect idea."
Following Melita into Safrin’s Mirror in a black bikini that feels scandalously inadequate against Halo’s biting air until the hotspring swallows her in glittering warmth, Flora lets out a long, indulgent sigh as the magic-laced heat slips over her skin and starts unthreading every ache skijoring had apparently stitched into muscles she’d been pretty confident she hadn’t owned yesterday. Her blonde curls are piled messily atop her head, gold jewellery glinting against steam-damp skin as the starlit water twinkles around her, and as she sinks down with the kind of blissful expression usually reserved for expensive wine, divine compliments, or perfectly timed gossip, she flashes Melita a look so mischievous it practically has little devil horns.
"Okay, soooo," Flora begins, drawing the word out as she leans back against the stone and lifts one hand from the water, droplets sliding from her fingers like tiny stars falling back into Safrin’s Mirror. "I called to Safrin basically just looking for some sort of item, because people have been shady AF lately and I wanted to try and combat that, and she basically said there weren’t enough items in the world to do what I wanted." Her eyebrows lift slightly. "Which I thought was just her way of saying no, right? Like, okay, cool, love that for me, but then she started saying how it was such a shame that there wasn’t a Safrin demi ruling Torchline anymore, and so I thought she meant she wanted to appoint someone to co-rule. But then.."
Flora lets that hang for just a moment before her smile sharpens into something bright and delighted as she bounces her eyebrows at Melita, because given that Mel already knows the ending, there's no use in drawing it out. "Kai was super happy for me, obviously. My dads were real assholes about it, though."
The rumors are terrible and cruel But honey, most of them are true
“Gods, don’t I know it. I think I hurt more muscles just trying to stay on.” But she wouldn’t have been able to endure that particular brand of humiliation. Better to fight – which was always her go to mantra of life anyway. Besides, the hot springs make up for the airs of their foolish indulgences, winding around every pulled and disfigured portion, so she sighed happily, letting the gentle waves babble against her features until Flora began to disclose everything. Then she was rapt and attentive, leaning forward, hanging on every word.
Of all the possibilities wandering through her head as soon as she’d received the newly christened demigod’s letter, she hadn’t meandered along these particulars. “People? Shady? Do tell,” a glutton for gossip and busybody qualities, she had a feeling there were two in consideration to settle into such a claim, but the Honeybee would take more.
Not enough items in the world. No way to counter the lies and masquerades without another ploy. Of Torchline without its banner. Hadama gone back to the sea. Everything lining up in its proper order. She grinned then, eyes reeling towards the embankment, the soft area around them, blessed by the herald herself. Melita’s own issues with Safrin stemmed from all the exploits with her uncle; and truth be told, they all knew a lot of it was his own doing. But the way everything twisted and turned…would Flora be doomed for that too? She glanced back at Flora though, the smile charitable for her friend’s achievements, raising a few fingers to cue off the statements. “Okay, first of all, congratulations. That’s huge. Also on your engagement, by the way,” because she hadn’t forgotten, there’d just been a shit ton going on. “Second, what did you get for magic?!” a buzz of excitement to follow, humming naturally to herself at the pinpointed ventures and the possibilities. “Also third, I can understand why your dads were probably upset,” given everything they’d gone through. “But,” before Flora got vexed, “That doesn’t mean you’ll have the same experiences.”
Flora grins brightly at that, though the expression tips almost immediately into a playful roll of her eyes as she sinks a little deeper into the glittering warmth. "Ugh, just people who are clearly lying to me about things so that my ring goes off," she says, lifting one hand from beneath the water so the gold on her fingers catches the hotsprings’ starlit gleam, droplets sliding over the band. "And then they try to weasel their way out of it, like I’m going to be dazzled by semantics and suddenly forget that my jewellery just called them shady." Her nose wrinkles as the amusement thins into something more genuinely annoyed, and with a huff that stirs the steam in front of her lips, she adds, "And then all that drama with Colt at my birthday."
The congratulations catches her in a softer place, though, tugging her expression luminous before she can quite armour it with sass, and Flora turns her head coquettishly with her chin angled just so, smile blooming over her mouth at the acknowledgement of both her divine promotion and engagement written into the stars. "Thank you," she purrs, and if the words come wrapped in an absurd amount of pleased sparkle.
At the mention of her magic, though, Flora’s grin sharpens wickedly, and she leans forward through the steaming water with her aqua eyes widened, every inch of her suddenly lit up with the kind of dangerous excitement that says she has been given both a weapon and a party trick and fully intends to make both everyone else’s problem. "I can replay entire scenes that have happened to people," she says, "so I never have to take anyone’s word for shit ever again." Flora pauses performatively before sinking back a touch as the starlight in the water ripples around her. "It’ll be perfect for catching people out on their shit, obviously, but it can be really sweet too, like getting to see happy memories replayed."
As for her dads, Flora sinks back against the stone wall of the pool, the heat curling around her shoulders as her smile settles into something less glittery and more careful. She nods, because no, she isn’t stupid, and she isn’t pretending not to understand why Ronin and Remi might look at Safrin’s hands on her life and see teeth instead of stars. "No, I can too," she says, letting one hand drift lazily through the water while her rings send fractured gold through the shimmering surface. "But like...Ronin literally had sex with Safrin. Like, is it any wonder she got jealous and possessive over him?" The question lands with all the rhetorical certainty of a woman who feels no particular need to diagram the obvious, especially not when Safrin’s history of wanting to ensnare the men around her using sex includes Melita's uncle. "Anyway, since I don’t plan on sleeping with her or being weirdly in love with her, I think I’ll be good."
The rumors are terrible and cruel But honey, most of them are true
A plump, round-bodied bird flaps down nearby with more enthusiasm than grace, followed immediately by several others. Ningos quickly claim every available perch, their fluffy forms puffed up against the cold as they wobble into place.
They chirp loudly and constantly, hopping from ledges to shoulders to packs with no sense of personal space. One pecks inquisitively at a strap while another settles somewhere inconvenient, blinking wide eyes as though daring anyone to object.
Even when shooed away, the Ningos only flutter a short distance off before returning, undeterred and endlessly persistent. Whether they eventually lose interest or continue their cheerful harassment, they show no signs of leaving quietly.
Ningo
Areas Found: Halo — Common
A fat all-white bird that produces high-quality meat. Its feathers are often used to line jackets and hats because of its insulating qualities.
Challenge Rating: Moderate
HP: 70 | To Hit: +20 | Dmg: 8 Movement: Walk 20 ft.; Fly 30 ft.
SPECIAL SKILLS
Down Harvest: yields premium meat and dense feather lining prized for winter gear; Alarm Waddle: when startled, a flock moves in unison with loud honks, distracting predators and masking allies’ movement; Winter Roost: tightly packed roosts share body heat, reducing exposure effects for nearby creatures
TRAITS
Insulating Down: exceptionally warm feathers ideal for cold climates; Cold-Hardy: unbothered by most natural cold and light snowfall; Snow Camouflage: all-white plumage blends seamlessly into winter terrain; Ground Forager: adept at finding seeds and shoots beneath crusted snow
ACTIONS
Peck: a quick defensive jab of the beak; Wing Flurry: a burst of wingbeats that kicks up snow and loose down to obscure vision; Warning Honk: a sharp call that alerts the flock and may startle approaching creatures
The Honeybee’s eyes widened a fraction, then settled back into their usual and habitual wickedness; a little gleam of mischief as she took it all in. People being shitty and shifty wasn’t anything new – though without a war at present, it just seemed to be on purposeful and stupefying measures. While Flora didn’t name anyone, Ludo’s demigod had floated around the periphery long enough to catch more than just glimpses; snagging at details and strings when she could. Not involved in the slightest, but enough to have information and provide some musings when and where she could. “Ohhhh yeah. That was some shit. And on your birthday of all days,” as if that had meant the wounds were clearer and sharper. “Do you have that all resolved now?”
She winked at the thanks, leaving it there and out in the open, lowering herself a little further so the warm water touched at her chin and she could feel the mending, assuaging pulses of its heat massage its way into her muscles. Flora’s magic had her captivated though, and the vicious edges of her grin pulled tighter. “That’s brilliant. So you can just show them up. Call it all right out.” How satisfying that would be, she wondered, to pull the veil right across the frame and display the shittiness for what it really was. No more lies. No more duplicity. “Or yeah, enjoy it,” she laughed, partially sorry she’d immediately jumped the gun on how it could be armed and ready, instead of relishing and savoring. Maybe both.
Safrin herself was another blade though, all starry and serrated, so the Honeybee grew quiet, listening instead of toiling or preaching. Others had given her misgivings too once she’d accepted what Ludo had presented – thinking how much Remi had suffered under its nuances – but she hadn’t been contorted into the same array. She didn’t have to send souls to Mort’s Realm. She was amusement and chaos and a distraction from any other hellish ramparts. So the world didn’t take everything so seriously. The herald’s involvement with Flora might be like that too; no need to seduce or pull or produce multiple children. Humming a little, and taking a deep breath, she persisted in a curious facet. “Did she say what she wanted you to do?”
All that, and then the ningos. Rolling her eyes and losing all the softness from seconds before, she sneered at the fat fuckers. “I swear, these things have been around everywhere.”
Flora shrugs hard enough that the starlit surface around her breaks into little ripples, the glittering warmth lapping against her shoulders as her mouth twists into something that is almost a smile if one squints and ignores the knives tucked behind it. "I mean, I guess?" she says, because sorted feels like a very generous word for anything involving Colt, Sohalia, and the specific brand of social rot that had tried to seep into her birthday like spilled wine on white fabric. "I basically told her it was shitty of her to poach my friends without having the balls to tell me to my face. I didn’t hear from her after that, but then she sent Sohalia a fucking dagger as if Soh had done something wrong by telling me the shit Colt was trying to pull, so I dunno that it’s sorted, but it’s definitely done, I guess." Or, so Flora thought, not to know that the misunderstanding that had started all of this was currently being revealed.
Melita’s enthusiasm pulls Flora’s expression bright again, though, the annoyance burning away beneath something sharper and far more delighted as she widens her eyes and nods. "Yeah, I can’t fucking wait for the next time someone tries to gaslight me about something that happened." The grin that follows is all teeth and sparkle, though after a moment, Flora lets some of that shine slip from her face. With a smaller breath and a self-conscious little wince, she lowers her voice, her fingers turning beneath the surface so her rings flash and vanish through the twinkling water. "So when you became a demigod for Ludo...did you feel...like, weaker?"
Shaking her head about the question about Safrin, Flora lifts one shoulder again, softer this time. "Nope," she says. "And honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s less about doing something and more like... y’know, just being her demigod. Like she said, just having one of her demigods ruling Torchline." Her lips purse thoughtfully, though the look in her aqua eyes keeps its glittering edge. "Because other than Vesper, who I literally never hear about, Safrin doesn’t really have anyone anymore." Even if she’s only there to be something bright on the coast, a shiny reminder with a crown and saltwater in her curls, Flora can’t quite make herself mind; there are crueller shapes to be made into than a star held high enough for Torchline to see.
The ningos ruin the moment and Flora glances toward them with a sneer that matches Melita’s beautifully, her nose wrinkling. "Honestly, they’re as bad as the hels are," she mutters, rolling her eyes as she sinks lower into the hotspring.
The rumors are terrible and cruel But honey, most of them are true
Melita grimaced as the tale spun along; Colt had said as much before, but hearing it from Flora’s end, and the movements and expressions associated with it, sounded as though it wasn’t really over or sorted. Sifted, perhaps, like grains of sand and others stuck in a blockade; waiting to be found of value or discarded. Whether or not any of them took the opportunity to nestle into anything but daggers was up to them, and so the Honeybee hummed under her breath, eyes narrowing a little as she looked across the water. “Oof. Well. Would you use your new magic on either of them then?” To see the truth behind the cloaks and veils, where it likely wound somewhere in between?
Followed through with Flora’s own excitement to galvanize said incantations – so maybe the opportunity would come up sooner rather than later. For half a second, her teeth shown in those twisting venues of destruction and mayhem, her mind already working through how she’d like to toy with such weaponry, before it flickered and faltered somewhere along the line of the demigod’s question. “Oh. Yeah.” She paused, taking a deep breath, fingers gliding through the scope of the springs, like she could pull the answer from the ether and it would sit better in her chest. “It was like being stronger and not at the same time. You have all these new gifts and talents, but not all the…fortitude to back them up? Like. Don’t go enter a battle tournament,” she winced, shrugging her shoulders like it hadn’t been a major wound and life-altering event. “It doesn’t last forever, but you still have to be a little careful.”
Whether or not Flora would actually do that was another thing – obviously Melita hadn’t.
Safrin not having ambitions spurned on the Queen though gave her pause, a quiet little ‘huh’. Maybe it was just all about power and having that force and ferocity behind the Torchline name. Or something else would churn up eventually, as it always did in Caido. “I hope you enjoy it nonetheless,” she returned with a grin instead, shooing one of the ningos away with her hands.
Flora tilts her head, blonde curls shifting against the damp warmth gathered at the nape of her neck. "What do you mean?" she asks, fingers idly skimming over the surface of Safrin’s Mirror so the starlit water bends around her rings in tiny fractured halos. "Just to hear how it went down myself?" It isn’t that she has any reason to think Sohalia lied, but then again, if someone is going to go behind her back, Flora supposes there’s a certain satisfaction in seeing it with her own eyes, in making the memory unfold whether or not the person responsible had been brave enough to want her watching. Not that she was to know the opposite would in fact be true.
At Melita's answer, Flora’s expression shifts immediately, the theatrical edge of her face softening into something sharply relieved. "Exactly," she says, the word coming out with more force than she means it to, because there’s something almost embarrassing about how much better it feels to hear Melita say it plainly instead of having to pretend that new magic and divine favour should make everything inside her feel cleanly triumphant. The warning about battle tournaments has her chuckling despite herself, because of course Melita would say it with the kind of shrug that tried to make dying in one sound like an inconvenient bruise. "I for sure won’t," Flora laughs, rolling her eyes at Melita with a look that is entirely affectionate and entirely understanding, as if there is a whole conversation tucked into the space between them about impulse control, bad decisions, and annoying emo wolf-boys with lightning magic.
The grin returns easily enough at Melita’s hope, brighter now and less strained around the edges, and Flora lets herself sink back into the magical heat with a pleased little tilt of her chin. "I definitely think I will." Then, glancing at Melita with renewed curiosity, she angles her head again, aqua eyes narrowing just slightly. "Do you have Rescue?" she asks, slipping one hand beneath the water and then sending a wave over the lip of the pool toward one of the ningos. "The one where you can call in other demigods? It's the other ability I have so far."
The rumors are terrible and cruel But honey, most of them are true
“Exactly~,” she hummed and sing-songed, snapping her fingers and letting them roam freely against the water. She’d heard Colt’s end of things, and could imagine the truth lingered somewhere in the middle on all sides, but to be able to see it for herself? And decipher how it’d all really gone down, through thick and thin and dramatic components? Who wouldn’t want to sit in? “I think I’d use it every chance I got. Unless it was going to be y’know, super boring or something.” But she shrugged, leaving the matter up to the newly forged demigod anyway.
She gave a light smile afterwards though, grateful Flora didn’t tread any further on the lines Melita had yet to delve into – not much farther than initial runs and rampages anyway. She’d yet to have her vengeance. She still jumped at lightning. But she’d grown more powerful and potent from that day onward, which she hoped signified something about power and prowess, about how they could bend themselves back together again. That death, while rampant in Caido, wasn’t always such a permanent fixture.
But that was because of Ronin – though she’d made sure his efforts hadn’t been in vain.
As for Rescue, she tilted her head, then flicked a bounty of water at the closest ningo too, watching as they all cooed to one another and barely took flight, shaking the droplets off with a brush and rush of feathers. “I don’t. I know a bunch of others do though.” Lifting her eyes in thought, she gave a deeper breath, longer and lower. “People would want me to help them slay shit, then summon a demigod, and then they would summon another one…and pretty soon I’d wonder why they’d even bothered asking me to come.” She shrugged, shimmying the bother off her shoulders; despite it sticking like a claw or a thorn deep into her sides. “Maybe one day though. When I’m over it,” and she winked, still uncertain. Her own insecurities had made a mess and nest of those notions too.
Flora just grins at that, shaking her head as if Melita has badly underestimated the sheer entertainment value of being able to pry open reality’s receipts whenever she pleases. "Nah, I don’t think it’ll be boring," she says, the steam pearling against her cheeks while the starlit water laps glitter-bright against her collarbones. "Even in times when it’s like...oh, I need to recall a memory to know what groceries I’m supposed to buy, like, that’s still cool, y’know?" Because sure, yes, obviously there are grander and more devastating uses for the magic, and Flora is absolutely not going to pretend she isn’t already looking forward to the next time someone tries to dress a lie up prettily and hand it to her like a gift, but there’s something delicious about the little uses too.
As Melita continues, Flora’s brows raise, the easy mischief in her face quieting as she realizes the answer is running deeper than she’d expected it to. Her mouth tugs into a faint frown, not because she disagrees, but because the shape of the feeling makes sense in a way she doesn’t particularly like; she has never thought of Melita as weak, not once, and the idea that anyone might make her feel like an opening act before the real power arrived sits badly beneath Flora’s ribs. "I kinda know what you mean," she says after a moment, letting out a small sigh as her fingers drift through the surface of the hotspring, scattering the reflected starlight into loose, broken pieces.
"Not as a demigod, obviously, but like... back when all the Family shit was happening and I went to bargain with Dahlia, everyone acted like I was insane for doing it, like I should have just left things up to the Ronins and Remis and Deimoses and Sunjatas." Lifting her eyebrows, Flora gives Melita a look that says surely she understands this without needing it explained to death, because if anyone knows what it feels like to be underestimated until the world is already on fire, it is probably the Honeybee. "But like...they aren’t the only ones capable of doing shit, y’know?"
The seriousness doesn’t vanish so much as sharpen into something crooked and warmer, Flora’s grin returning with a tilt as she settles back into the heat and lets the magic of Safrin’s Mirror ease away another bright thread of soreness from her shoulders. "Well," she says, her voice turning lighter again as her eyes gleam across the water, "at least this way I can still channel you when I need you." And not just to help her beat boys at swimming races.
The rumors are terrible and cruel But honey, most of them are true
“Ah, you’d never need a list again,” she smirked and snickered, imagining turning back time or notions simply to watch and discover things again. Or even to revisit fond memories – pieces of her sister she’d forgotten along the way, or if she could remember the sound of her mother’s warm laughter, the trill of stories as she mended clothing or tended to her herbs. Most of those seemed so far gone, in another world, another portal, another region long since gone, and she gave a quiet sigh to the smile enriching her features. “And you could always see people you’ve lost, y’know?” One didn’t need to beg and plead at the Festival of Lights or hope Remi could bring someone to sit for a spell.
Not wanting it to become something melancholic, she tilted her head and breezed another splash at one of the younger ningo, watching as they flew upwards in some scattered display of stupidity. She listened though, taking in the parallel gestures of those who thought better or worse or strived and tried and never seemed to gain the recognition, or always believed to be inferior. Which wasn’t them - Flora had done hordes and the Honeybee had strived - but it went against the grain in peculiar ways. “Nah, I get it. And they weren’t. Plenty of people got things accomplished without having to always battle their way through something,” even though that was her favorite solution, and she gave half a grin in response. “And I know why they wanted to channel others – because it would be faster and easier. But like, why couldn’t they become better themselves too?” Everyone else put the effort in to become bigger and bolder and brawnier. “I couldn’t imagine being Hadama or Remi and Ronin all the time, being yanked around at the drop of a hat or the first sign of a monster. Or having so many dependent on you.” Instead she’d been pulled for races, and they’d all seen how that had turned out.
The lightness from Flora prospered a laugh though, and she wrinkled her nose in fondness and shared exasperation. “True. And now you can really understand channeling from another angle,” she gave a light-hearted wink, settling back against stones and letting the warmth slide over collarbones and up towards her jaw.
Flora nods at first, the grin already curling over her mouth before the thought properly finishes taking shape, because the magic might be useful for catching lies and carving straight through all the pretty little evasions people like to layer over the truth, but that hadn’t been the first thing she’d wanted to do with it at all. "The first thing I used it for was to show Kaisel what it looked like from my point of view the first time I kissed him," she admits, and for all the heat already flushed over her skin from Safrin’s Mirror, there’s no mistaking the extra colour that rises beneath her cheeks as she glances toward Melita with a small shrug that tries very hard to be casual and only succeeds at being almost embarrassingly fond. "He’d been nearly asleep when it happened, so it was nice, y’know? To show him what it was like from my side." The softness of it lingers despite her best efforts, caught in the damp gold at her throat and the way her smile turns less sharp around the edges, and because Melita doesn’t exactly seem like the type who needs a big gushy performance made of affection, Flora keeps the offer easy, almost offhand, even as she means every word. "So if you ever wanted something like that for you and Iskra, I’d happily help, and then just like... close my eyes, or something."
As for the rest, Flora’s eyes widen immediately, and she nods with fierce, emphatic agreement, sending another shimmer of ripples out through the starlit water. "Yeah, exactly." Because that is the part people always seem so determined to skip over, the part where the so-called obvious heroes and legends and near-immortal walking disasters are not the only ones who get to matter, not the only ones with hands and teeth and the capacity to make something happen instead of sitting prettily in the background waiting to be saved. The idea of being pulled into every fight just because someone else has decided the stakes are high enough to justify borrowing her life makes her exhale wearily, her shoulders sinking deeper beneath the surface as she gives Melita a look that is half apology, half confession, and entirely serious beneath the steam-glossed glitter of her expression. "No, I know what you mean."
For a second she worries the thought sounds terrible before she has even said it, but then again, Flora has never found much use in pretending not to think the things that sit plainly behind her teeth. "Is it terrible that I kinda hope I don’t get channelled for things like that?" she asks, brows lifting as if she already knows the answer might be complicated. "If someone is in the middle of a fight and wants receipts, I’m all about it. Like, yes, absolutely, summon me in for dramatic evidence, emotional devastation, and maybe a very well-timed side-eye." Her mouth twists, humour flashing over the anxiety without quite hiding it. "But being channelled randomly to put my life on the line against some monster? Especially if it’s some stupid fight that absolutely didn’t need to happen?" Flora shakes her head, gold earrings catching the light as her nose wrinkles. "For that, I'm happy to let the Ronin's and Hadama's deal with it." Wrinkling her nose, she tilts her head. "Or, probably not Hadama even. He seems to have just ghosted since he went back to the Underwater City."
The rumors are terrible and cruel But honey, most of them are true
The admission garnered a proper incline of her head in a duplicitious manner, catching Flora’s blush with the shape of her grin and a delicate laugh; not to tease her, but to imagine that was an initial response. For sentimentality, and not the forthright longing to pierce someone on their own actions and words. Maybe Melita had spent far too long on the roads to perdition, for it to be glory and wounds first and foremost in her mind. “I bet he was all for that,” she winked, because Kai seemed the type to be enamored all over again and then wrap it back on eternity and infinity. “Do you guys have your wedding all planned out?”
The offer wasn’t expected though, and she nearly gulped down some of the hot water nearby on a sputtering effect, pretending it’d been the ningos nearby inspiring the movement instead of surprise. Partially due to her own inexperiences with said gushy performances – and because of how they’d gone about it immediately thereafter. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you,” she prolonged instead, because she wasn’t certain she’d want anyone in the nearest vicinity for that rolled back montage.
The shared ferocity landed though, and they could lament about how the world shaped individuals across Caido – to be either heroic and defiant or fallen apart and forgotten. Melita was determined to not be amidst the leagues of misplaced and ambivalent sorts; resolution to sedition and ensuring her footprints were embedded with chaos, destruction, and the promise of something potent, unhinged, remained firmly embedded in her soul. Neither of them were damsels, even if they sometimes found themselves in distress, but their prowess, their edges, could be different from the rest of the brawny sorts. Even if, a majority of the time, all Melita wanted to do was blow pieces up.
But as Flora persisted, she grew quiet again, letting the water sift against her in a soothing, mending, assuaging way, tending to the needles and nettles while her mind could be stoked. It's not a terrible thought, but that’s just it too,” she murmured, having never thought about it in that context before, despite having risked her own life many, many times. That others would be willing to jeopardize another’s in a fight they hadn’t asked for, in a stake where they had no gain, no foothold, nothing at all – her jaw clenched minutely, nostrils flaring, and she clenched her fist beneath the water, letting her fingers tighten before retracting. “I don’t think they even bother with that thought. Summoning people for a fight at the asscrack of dawn. Calling upon others for sieges they had nothing to do with. Why is it better for us to, potentially, die for their cause?” Maybe it’d be better if it was an agreed upon fragment beforehand, but in the Honeybee’s experience, they’d all been surprising manifestations. “I guess if you’re immortal, it’s fine, but still,” it didn’t mean there wasn’t suffering. “Being able to watch someone’s petty shit would be so much better – you’re right.”
Huffing a breath and releasing it long and low over the water, she rolled her eyes at the Hadama notions. “I wondered where he’d gone after all that.”
