[ME] every single hot take is cold as ice

Melita

Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down

Iskra’s penchant for asking about plans that the Honeybee had barely construed in her mind, much less cemented into anything tangible, never failed to instigate a laugh. Melita should have a murder list; gods, that would be incredible. That would require some amount of thought and planning though, and the world knew she’d be far too powerful if she was organized. “Maaaaybe,” but the grin would report ‘no’. She’d be much more apt to simply appear out of the blue, ready to cull monster bullshit (or if she glanced up, maybe mentioning like ‘hey is that a fucking dragon?’).

But then the bonfires were different colors, and he was grabbing her hand, promising a dance. Her eyes widened, mouth dropping in a slight inhale of disbelief (glimpses of the past, she’d realized, portions of the old Iskra that weren’t so dormant after all, little light catches in her heart where she remembered him being carefree), before they were racing off. Her limbs flew – more than eager to be drawn into the antics and infernos, giggling at the bounce of his strides. She only glanced down to ensure she wasn’t tripping and faltering over the sand; light and airy as she spun, waving at Sohalia as she bounced by. then tried grabbing Iskra's free hand to see if she could get him rambling through too. “Hey Soh!”

to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun