Evie
this floral patterned imagery makes me feel like hell
I know I'm not your type but I adore your vibe
I know I'm not your type but I adore your vibe
Maea may not be their problem to solve, but only time would tell if Evie stuck to that notion herself, given her problems with trying too hard to fix everything in the past. Especially when it comes to making amends for her own behavior and choices - never giving herself grace for why she’d had to resort to such cloak and dagger actions for her own safety.
As for Sunjata, she hems and haws for a moment, clicking her tongue restlessly. “Sometimes simple and sweet is the best approach,” she admits, recalling complex plans and backups that had never been needed or had only convoluted a situation, “but also - at least it’s not our problem. Not yet.” For surely it would be soon, whether Sunjata prevails or not.
Speaking of problems that are actually theirs…Evie’s frown deepens at the warning to brace herself, taking the papers he hands her. Dantalion’s first letter alone has her sucking in a sharp breath of alarm that has Micah sitting up at last, a big-cat chirrup of concern reaching toward her. Evie doesn’t have the wherewithal to respond, eyes too busy consuming each word with heat growing visibly in her cheeks from frustration and affront alike. Deimos’ responses had been perfect, and Dantalion’s second letter is a relief, but her hands shake by the time she gets to the last one wherein she then has to force herself to fold them neatly along former creases lest she give into the urge to crumple them in her fist.
“What in the world was he thinking?!” She abruptly holds the papers back out to Deimos so one of her hands can smear over her face and into her hair, trying not to lose her temper immediately. “Why are people so allergic to either being honest or keeping their feet out of their mouths?!” Because Noah had clearly chosen the latter, and for what? Surely this wouldn’t make his quest any easier, and it had strained Halo’s relationship with the Grounds to boot - something Evie takes incredibly personally, as evidenced by the heavy flush of her cheeks. Turning fire-bright eyes on Deimos, her lips twitch with the desire to spit her more vitriol, if Micah had not made it to her side to wind around her calves with a soothing rumble. Taking in a deep breath as her hand falls to his head, Evie cracks her neck and closes her eyes a brief moment. “Okay. Did you speak to Noah already?” She needs to know where to start their plan of attack.
As for Sunjata, she hems and haws for a moment, clicking her tongue restlessly. “Sometimes simple and sweet is the best approach,” she admits, recalling complex plans and backups that had never been needed or had only convoluted a situation, “but also - at least it’s not our problem. Not yet.” For surely it would be soon, whether Sunjata prevails or not.
Speaking of problems that are actually theirs…Evie’s frown deepens at the warning to brace herself, taking the papers he hands her. Dantalion’s first letter alone has her sucking in a sharp breath of alarm that has Micah sitting up at last, a big-cat chirrup of concern reaching toward her. Evie doesn’t have the wherewithal to respond, eyes too busy consuming each word with heat growing visibly in her cheeks from frustration and affront alike. Deimos’ responses had been perfect, and Dantalion’s second letter is a relief, but her hands shake by the time she gets to the last one wherein she then has to force herself to fold them neatly along former creases lest she give into the urge to crumple them in her fist.
“What in the world was he thinking?!” She abruptly holds the papers back out to Deimos so one of her hands can smear over her face and into her hair, trying not to lose her temper immediately. “Why are people so allergic to either being honest or keeping their feet out of their mouths?!” Because Noah had clearly chosen the latter, and for what? Surely this wouldn’t make his quest any easier, and it had strained Halo’s relationship with the Grounds to boot - something Evie takes incredibly personally, as evidenced by the heavy flush of her cheeks. Turning fire-bright eyes on Deimos, her lips twitch with the desire to spit her more vitriol, if Micah had not made it to her side to wind around her calves with a soothing rumble. Taking in a deep breath as her hand falls to his head, Evie cracks her neck and closes her eyes a brief moment. “Okay. Did you speak to Noah already?” She needs to know where to start their plan of attack.
