She waited. Melita wasn’t full of patience. One might say her impulsivity was a core part of her character, but she’d still stand by and listen to someone like Flora, whom she knew and cherished and respected, to explain the side of sense and rationality. Well, or what had been lingering and leading to those circumstances. The Honeybee had always made her stance known on the Flora and Jack front, but also hadn’t been amidst the many who’d beckon for the Doubletake to find someone else – one of those who could grant her observations and opinions, and then wait. If Flora had been happy in this eventual unfurling saga, then the demigod would have still watched, skeptically, until something else fell apart.
Nor did she need the explanation, the silence and trailing off enough to segment it wasn’t a story for this time, nor ever, if the younger woman didn’t want to give it. Melita’s only rationale towards heartbreak was one of devastating loss of her family – not whirlwind romances – so she pretended to tend back to her ship, narrowing her eyes at the underside and wondering how to peel off some of the other residue still clinging to the hull, when Flora’s voice finally rang through.
She huffed a laugh at the notions of finger pointing, rolling her eyes. “I know not many like accountability here, but it’s hardly your fault if Jack’s leaving made other people be pieces of shit.”
The news about the bar made her brows rise, snorting at how the Marin Triplets had somehow become involved. Was it loyalty towards their father, or just because they could? She’d leaned more towards the latter, at least on the little bits and pieces she knew about them (Nova, pain in the ass, and Vesper, content to stir shit). “Do you….want revenge or…,” but then the answer came thereafter, rebuilding the bar and rebranding simultaneously. “I mean. I guess,” she shrugged. “Let me know if you want help or anything.” She’d still want to kick their asses, but a lifetime and cycle of vengeance was something she held firm beliefs in.
Her eyes narrowed at the echo sharks for half a moment, wrinkling her nose at the laughter, before Flora summoned Frey. It didn’t surprise her, from either the action nor the herald summoning, once a part of that life too, watching as the deity assured the lavender found its flare again. “Can I try something?” she grinned, sparking a denizen of potential in her chaotic little mind, before lifting a finger to boop Flora on the shoulder. “And…are you happy now?”
Nor did she need the explanation, the silence and trailing off enough to segment it wasn’t a story for this time, nor ever, if the younger woman didn’t want to give it. Melita’s only rationale towards heartbreak was one of devastating loss of her family – not whirlwind romances – so she pretended to tend back to her ship, narrowing her eyes at the underside and wondering how to peel off some of the other residue still clinging to the hull, when Flora’s voice finally rang through.
She huffed a laugh at the notions of finger pointing, rolling her eyes. “I know not many like accountability here, but it’s hardly your fault if Jack’s leaving made other people be pieces of shit.”
The news about the bar made her brows rise, snorting at how the Marin Triplets had somehow become involved. Was it loyalty towards their father, or just because they could? She’d leaned more towards the latter, at least on the little bits and pieces she knew about them (Nova, pain in the ass, and Vesper, content to stir shit). “Do you….want revenge or…,” but then the answer came thereafter, rebuilding the bar and rebranding simultaneously. “I mean. I guess,” she shrugged. “Let me know if you want help or anything.” She’d still want to kick their asses, but a lifetime and cycle of vengeance was something she held firm beliefs in.
Her eyes narrowed at the echo sharks for half a moment, wrinkling her nose at the laughter, before Flora summoned Frey. It didn’t surprise her, from either the action nor the herald summoning, once a part of that life too, watching as the deity assured the lavender found its flare again. “Can I try something?” she grinned, sparking a denizen of potential in her chaotic little mind, before lifting a finger to boop Flora on the shoulder. “And…are you happy now?”
melita
then I became the fire
