[SE] If I hit the bottom will I break?

melita

and she recklessly plays with matches

As if suddenly remembering why they were there, she watched Iskra tilt some of his water into the sea, and then she followed suit, watching as the dregs of liquor poured amidst the swells and waves. Her own mother wasn’t one for any of the spirits – though she’d damned well earned it – and then Melita finished off the last of the swigs, hoisting it upwards for Ampere, before placing it amongst the empty portions along the hull.

Her brow arched at the underestimating of strength, rolling her eyes and shaking her head soon after, struggling not to give over a thousand other litanies and curses to coincide. She shouldn’t have felt hollow or sunken in over the notions of last year again and again and again, but it was such a sticking point, a nuisance, a broad stroke of her failure that it maimed more than she’d like to admit.

Though the next admittance came forth as one of the heaviest sighs she’d ever unleashed, and by then she’d already procured another bottle. Leaning back against one of the boards, so her head rested firmly on the side of the boat, she stared up at the evening sky, the spread of stars and clouds. “What a grand idea. Did you want matching scars?” Glancing back his way though, she could tell he didn’t quite suffer as much (a good thing); no slashes and puckering across his chest, like hers, spiderwebbing out in thin lines towards her heart. “Maybe Sah figured out how not to murder someone immediately.” Her jaw clenched tightly, eyes narrowing back at the sky, listening to Fangorn drifting asleep nearby and the soft breaths of Sila coasting somewhere near her shoulder.

But when it came to Iskra’s impending axe and Ampere’s once-wielding bolts, the Honeybee knew she’d have to eventually get over that sudden, inherent fear. She hadn’t had it before – and it was unlike her to let death shape the foundations of her consternations and discomposure. Propping her feet up on some old equipment, she didn’t let the silence shield her, mind rampaging through a series of intervals. “Yeah. And then you electrocute your enemies,” came on a feral grin. “Like Vesper, mm? He seemed to piss you off.”