MELITA
Waiting was not a particular brand of anything Melita liked, but she stayed glancing along the railing, avoiding the normal huffing and puffing she might’ve concocted with a friend or family member. Though she was still more attentive to the designation of trinkets, gilded eyes flickering immediately to the boxes. “Oooh,” she echoed immediately, already enamored with shiny bits and bobs. But these put some of her rock collecting habits to shame – and if she’d ever have the patience to endure such craftmanship she might’ve bothered to try (alas; something would be broken). “These must take ages,” and then her gaze went to the dead butterfly. “Do you use that for décor too?” Because eh. Bit macabre for her tastes.
Though...she'd probably be amongst the first to put an enemy's hand on a pike, if given the chance. So maybe it all depended on circumstances and all that.
As for Torchline and the Ark, she laughed quickly; though, she had to wonder if the recent appearance of the ship aligned with Flora and Jack’s recent murder incident…and the smile faded rapidly. “Safrin with her tits out? Yeah that’s the one.” Melita shrugged, as if this were commonplace, but not wanting to disclose much more of the enigma; she didn’t have all the facts either, and certainly wasn’t going to spread Vox’s side of the events. “Torchline is nice anyway. A good reprieve during Deepfrost too.”
This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
