you must burn brighter than ever
Melita didn’t know it at all either. She could only ever get bits and pieces along gossip trains or from Flora herself – the trauma ends of it, mostly. Death had a bizarre way of winding through Caido; taking bits and pieces upon the return from Mort’s Realm. She’d had her own – and she was certain there was a weight in there from shared forces and vitriol amidst the Captain, the Doubletake, and their unfortunate demises, something never quite taken away from shared abyss, violence, and vehemence. But then again, perhaps that was why Flora deserved peace now, and while she kept all of this to herself, she tilted her head, gazing back at Kaisel with an arched brow – because after all this time, repose still seemed like a difficult option for this world. “Then you’ll fight for it, mm?” she grinned instead, dropping another rag into a bucket and snagging at another.
The statements thereafter earned a loud snort, mostly in defense of Iskra, but also remembering the curse he’d had before (which, had, in hindsight and in present, been fucking hilarious). “Absolutely not,” came on the pretense of a miff, holding her jaw and nose upwards in some seditious, haughty manner. Maneuvering over to another harsh portion of mud, she rolled her eyes, gave another low breath, fighting back her own insecurities. “I don’t think he’d flip, and given his own track record, he can’t really say shit.” In fact, they’d be pretty standard and normal in comparison to the litany of fucked up relationship patterns Sunjata had concocted and implemented over the years. “I just haven’t ever talked to him about it either.” She shrugged; it was far more common for her to spout off or rant or vent or screech than dive into anything resembling familial burdens. “Maybe I’ll start there though. Maybe.” Like it wasn’t set in stone or anything, but the resemblance of a plan.
Though that didn’t mean she missed the gossip thereafter – gaze swinging back over to see his features warp at the memory, toss in a dry laugh for her part. “Not one bit of that surprises me. Which one was more overprotective?” One might argue they had reason to be, given everything Flora had gone through.
Then there were the prospects of gifts and items, and she tilted her head, listening as she tackled the larger grime. “Ooh, that’d be neat though,” contemplating memories, what one would want to keep, what had already faded, only to be snagged and renewed again. “You could do the same with her family too. Enzo and everyone.” Pausing, she considered further, finger tapping on her chin. “Flora’s got all kinds of weapons and the like – and that would be useful in another way. I don’t think everything has to be sharp or piercing.” Though, yes, she was partial to it – but the Doubleake had so many defenses and measures and guards to lean against; why not something filled with cherished moments instead of harsher outlooks? Gods, perhaps all this nonsense had made her sappy too. Gross.
His last sentiment made her pause again though, nose wrinkling. “Great, now I have to think of gifts.”
The statements thereafter earned a loud snort, mostly in defense of Iskra, but also remembering the curse he’d had before (which, had, in hindsight and in present, been fucking hilarious). “Absolutely not,” came on the pretense of a miff, holding her jaw and nose upwards in some seditious, haughty manner. Maneuvering over to another harsh portion of mud, she rolled her eyes, gave another low breath, fighting back her own insecurities. “I don’t think he’d flip, and given his own track record, he can’t really say shit.” In fact, they’d be pretty standard and normal in comparison to the litany of fucked up relationship patterns Sunjata had concocted and implemented over the years. “I just haven’t ever talked to him about it either.” She shrugged; it was far more common for her to spout off or rant or vent or screech than dive into anything resembling familial burdens. “Maybe I’ll start there though. Maybe.” Like it wasn’t set in stone or anything, but the resemblance of a plan.
Though that didn’t mean she missed the gossip thereafter – gaze swinging back over to see his features warp at the memory, toss in a dry laugh for her part. “Not one bit of that surprises me. Which one was more overprotective?” One might argue they had reason to be, given everything Flora had gone through.
Then there were the prospects of gifts and items, and she tilted her head, listening as she tackled the larger grime. “Ooh, that’d be neat though,” contemplating memories, what one would want to keep, what had already faded, only to be snagged and renewed again. “You could do the same with her family too. Enzo and everyone.” Pausing, she considered further, finger tapping on her chin. “Flora’s got all kinds of weapons and the like – and that would be useful in another way. I don’t think everything has to be sharp or piercing.” Though, yes, she was partial to it – but the Doubleake had so many defenses and measures and guards to lean against; why not something filled with cherished moments instead of harsher outlooks? Gods, perhaps all this nonsense had made her sappy too. Gross.
His last sentiment made her pause again though, nose wrinkling. “Great, now I have to think of gifts.”
Melita
