Kaisel
Don't need a sign, nothing divine's gonna save me
The arch of his 'brow lifted higher and higher as she spoke. He wasn't close enough with her to recognize the nuance of her violet veneer. She had always drifted in the distance, just one of many bright lights in his memories. She was a friendly face, but he could barely even call it a familiar face, especially after all these years. The humor between them, the ease of her company, was nothing but the past and the complementary manner of their personalities. This heavy shit though, that was something that only good friends could easily navigate.
Still. Wasn't she being a bit too blasé about it all?
He'd unspun his bandage this whole time and had unknowingly paused all efforts the more she spoke. With it uncoiled in his lap, he reached for another sip of his drink, too sober he realized to dwell on the idea of her being dead. He'd thought she would have had some sort of joke, a play on words, but there were no smiles now. "Gods, Flora." The correct use of her name came out almost like a swear. It was the manifestation of the anger that flared inside him, as it always did when the Family was at hand. It seemed he couldn't turn his head without hearing about something else they had managed to spoil. His lip threatened to curl up in disgust, but he straightened it with another sip of his drink, though he set the glass back on the table a touch too hard.
"I'm grateful you're back among the living," he sighed, no comedic sarcasm to be found. "I'm guessing they, Pierce, didn't apologize for... overstepping?" It wasn't as much that question as the absence of what he was asking. Was she safe now, or would Piece be hunting for her to make sure she stayed dead, mistake or not?
This was why everyone plastered on fake smiles for Dahlia around the town. Their power was a terrible thing. Loathe as he was to admit it, Flora could kick his ass 10 different ways, and they had killed her without even actually trying to. What could they do? His little fighting match seemed like a joke in the shadow of their oppression.
Still. Wasn't she being a bit too blasé about it all?
He'd unspun his bandage this whole time and had unknowingly paused all efforts the more she spoke. With it uncoiled in his lap, he reached for another sip of his drink, too sober he realized to dwell on the idea of her being dead. He'd thought she would have had some sort of joke, a play on words, but there were no smiles now. "Gods, Flora." The correct use of her name came out almost like a swear. It was the manifestation of the anger that flared inside him, as it always did when the Family was at hand. It seemed he couldn't turn his head without hearing about something else they had managed to spoil. His lip threatened to curl up in disgust, but he straightened it with another sip of his drink, though he set the glass back on the table a touch too hard.
"I'm grateful you're back among the living," he sighed, no comedic sarcasm to be found. "I'm guessing they, Pierce, didn't apologize for... overstepping?" It wasn't as much that question as the absence of what he was asking. Was she safe now, or would Piece be hunting for her to make sure she stayed dead, mistake or not?
This was why everyone plastered on fake smiles for Dahlia around the town. Their power was a terrible thing. Loathe as he was to admit it, Flora could kick his ass 10 different ways, and they had killed her without even actually trying to. What could they do? His little fighting match seemed like a joke in the shadow of their oppression.
Here only the strong survive
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
