flora
Jack had any number of different weapons tucked away in his cabin, but there was one in particular Flora was after. To call it a mace would have been far too generous; it was a gnarled and thick piece of wood that Jack had hammered various rusty nails into (no doubt part of the rust had been there before, while the other half it had come by naturally thanks to all the blood left to dry on it). Depositing Seven onto her side of Jack's bed, Flora plucked up the weapon from where it was stored behind a chest of drawers with a smile that curled on her lips like cigarette smoke.
Making her way carefully down the ladder—she'd snubbed Bassian's help if only because she recalled there wasn't much room on the houseboat to begin with—Flora let herself fall the last few rungs.
This portion of the houseboat wasn't familiar to her as Hotaru had forced her back to sleep after only a few seconds of being awake, but she'd been on enough small vessels to be able to find her way toward the stairs which would presumably lead her into the small bedroom area. Gripping the handle of the branch which had been taped and re-taped in order to make it easier to grip, Flora glanced around. What she'd remembered as being such a chaotic and violent scene was now rendered absolutely harmless. The messy duvet and scattering of pale feathers on the ground were the only signs that anything at all had happened here.
And gods if that didn't make Flora burn with fury, as if the wounds left in her heart and mind were somehow minimized by the lack of their mirror here.
"Did you find them?"
Making her way carefully down the ladder—she'd snubbed Bassian's help if only because she recalled there wasn't much room on the houseboat to begin with—Flora let herself fall the last few rungs.
This portion of the houseboat wasn't familiar to her as Hotaru had forced her back to sleep after only a few seconds of being awake, but she'd been on enough small vessels to be able to find her way toward the stairs which would presumably lead her into the small bedroom area. Gripping the handle of the branch which had been taped and re-taped in order to make it easier to grip, Flora glanced around. What she'd remembered as being such a chaotic and violent scene was now rendered absolutely harmless. The messy duvet and scattering of pale feathers on the ground were the only signs that anything at all had happened here.
And gods if that didn't make Flora burn with fury, as if the wounds left in her heart and mind were somehow minimized by the lack of their mirror here.
"Did you find them?"
How can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22?
Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
