mama bore a girl with a gun for a mouth
Another somber turn twisted at the inquiry; and she could feel some age-old rancor stirring against her ribs. She couldn’t recall a time where she’d ever been numb - there was always a collective threshold of emotion brewing below the surface – usually rage. Her eyes flicked back and forth, from Sunjata, then to Iskra, then to her own plate, pondering over the platitudes, the way someone could even relent to nothingness. What would it be? Just an echo? A void? An intangible, weightless thing of indifference? Then what would be the point of existing, without all the - the Nate comment made her jaw clench, a thought interrupted, then a long breath unfurling in between bites of food. “Well, that fucking sucks,” she offered as a balm of sympathy, not even verging on the I-told-you-so now. “I bet Frey can fix it all.” Because what else was the alternative? “And yeah, just let us know.”
Unaware she’d dropped anything profound or awful in response to the initial inquiry, she’d kept it safe. Especially when Iskra had offered nothing on his own end, leaving her to wonder inwardly on more than one thing – what else was she supposed to have said? She had no intention of granting her uncle any intimate details, and they (well, she was) were sorting through meanings and figments and fragments. The fact that she was here, inviting and trying at all, was a monumental step for an individual who usually only relied on herself. Now she seemed to not be doing or saying enough.
But she caught that slight shift in Iskra’s posture, brow furrowing in confusion as she glanced his way, mouthing a ‘what’ but not expecting much of an answer. Turning back to address Sunjata’s question, she felt that slide of dread pitch its way into her bones again, mulling it over for a grin. “Well, I was inspired by Ronin’s bolts. I think it’d be awesome to just start blasting.” Using finger guns for emphasis, she gave another slight smile, a light laugh at Iskra’s comment. “Exactly,” she snapped with her thumb and middle finger, leaning back and taking another sip of her drink because she was starting to need it. “Already have cannons for my ship, why not just for me?” As a little treat.
As for Jack, she snorted. “Maybe like once or twice? I can see why he asked for us to go. Though...not like…the actual reason for going after a banshee.” To be fair, Melita hadn’t required a motive at the time either – lured easily by vehemence and violence. Still striving to keep the conversation light, she wrinkled her nose, pondering through her other actions recently. “Oh, and Koa and I blew up some of Kaisel’s underwear. Revenge and all that. Did you know they have demigod day of the week ones?” she looked incredulously from Sunjata to Iskra, giving the latter a warning look of ‘don’t even think about it’, before rounding over to her uncle once more. “Yes, you were Wednesday,” with a roll of her eyes.
Unaware she’d dropped anything profound or awful in response to the initial inquiry, she’d kept it safe. Especially when Iskra had offered nothing on his own end, leaving her to wonder inwardly on more than one thing – what else was she supposed to have said? She had no intention of granting her uncle any intimate details, and they (well, she was) were sorting through meanings and figments and fragments. The fact that she was here, inviting and trying at all, was a monumental step for an individual who usually only relied on herself. Now she seemed to not be doing or saying enough.
But she caught that slight shift in Iskra’s posture, brow furrowing in confusion as she glanced his way, mouthing a ‘what’ but not expecting much of an answer. Turning back to address Sunjata’s question, she felt that slide of dread pitch its way into her bones again, mulling it over for a grin. “Well, I was inspired by Ronin’s bolts. I think it’d be awesome to just start blasting.” Using finger guns for emphasis, she gave another slight smile, a light laugh at Iskra’s comment. “Exactly,” she snapped with her thumb and middle finger, leaning back and taking another sip of her drink because she was starting to need it. “Already have cannons for my ship, why not just for me?” As a little treat.
As for Jack, she snorted. “Maybe like once or twice? I can see why he asked for us to go. Though...not like…the actual reason for going after a banshee.” To be fair, Melita hadn’t required a motive at the time either – lured easily by vehemence and violence. Still striving to keep the conversation light, she wrinkled her nose, pondering through her other actions recently. “Oh, and Koa and I blew up some of Kaisel’s underwear. Revenge and all that. Did you know they have demigod day of the week ones?” she looked incredulously from Sunjata to Iskra, giving the latter a warning look of ‘don’t even think about it’, before rounding over to her uncle once more. “Yes, you were Wednesday,” with a roll of her eyes.
Melita
of both beauty and battle cries
