mama bore a girl with a gun for a mouth
The lighter mood seemed to remain over the darker dirges, and she gave herself a little mental pat on the back – bolstering the heights of the dinner simply by talking about potentials and gossip. She sat straighter, parsing along the rest of her kebab and pondering on getting more, content over their agreements and accords. It wasn’t to diminish her uncle’s current situation; but gods could they be some downer qualities. They’d move forward and ahead when he was given his quest, and then go from there. And judging by the look on Iskra's face after her silent inquiry, more prying to come.
Her brow arched at the insinuations, another tiny menacing grin beginning to round along the corners of her mouth. “I did insist on confetti being used too,” at which she wouldn’t elaborate on the how or why; they’d have to see it in action for themselves. As for the Cannoneer, she pondered over that notion with a certain angle and twist of her nose, uncertain if she liked it or simply wanted to remain the buzzing nuisance. “But if I can’t bludgeon them, then what’s the point?” she offered instead, not one to soften her blows. She wasn’t the demigod of kindness or goodness after all.
Mildly surprised Iskra had been around Jack (he didn’t seem the type to meander towards the grumpy, broody, clearly murderous individual), her brow arched, granting a slight ‘hm’ under her breath. “Or it was the banshee that was quicker. She did try to choke him to death.” Giving that consideration up into the air, she shrugged, while some mercurial nuance began to claw its way through her mind. “What were you killing with Jack?”
Her uncle’s reaction to the Wednesday underwear of it all brought her right back to the forefront of the stupefying conversation; a proud smile flickering over the response. “Ohhhh faces and names. Some had poses.” Whether she was disgusted, impressed, or both, she didn’t say, though she reached over to clap the Heartless on the back too. Agreeing with Iskra on the name forefront, she tipped her drink towards him in a show of accordance. “Could be worse. You could’ve been like…Tuesday.” Taking another sip, she contemplated further. “Didn’t even see Noah on them. But Remi, Ronin, Hadama…,” she made no mention of Ru. “The Rae one in Halo…”
Her brow arched at the insinuations, another tiny menacing grin beginning to round along the corners of her mouth. “I did insist on confetti being used too,” at which she wouldn’t elaborate on the how or why; they’d have to see it in action for themselves. As for the Cannoneer, she pondered over that notion with a certain angle and twist of her nose, uncertain if she liked it or simply wanted to remain the buzzing nuisance. “But if I can’t bludgeon them, then what’s the point?” she offered instead, not one to soften her blows. She wasn’t the demigod of kindness or goodness after all.
Mildly surprised Iskra had been around Jack (he didn’t seem the type to meander towards the grumpy, broody, clearly murderous individual), her brow arched, granting a slight ‘hm’ under her breath. “Or it was the banshee that was quicker. She did try to choke him to death.” Giving that consideration up into the air, she shrugged, while some mercurial nuance began to claw its way through her mind. “What were you killing with Jack?”
Her uncle’s reaction to the Wednesday underwear of it all brought her right back to the forefront of the stupefying conversation; a proud smile flickering over the response. “Ohhhh faces and names. Some had poses.” Whether she was disgusted, impressed, or both, she didn’t say, though she reached over to clap the Heartless on the back too. Agreeing with Iskra on the name forefront, she tipped her drink towards him in a show of accordance. “Could be worse. You could’ve been like…Tuesday.” Taking another sip, she contemplated further. “Didn’t even see Noah on them. But Remi, Ronin, Hadama…,” she made no mention of Ru. “The Rae one in Halo…”
Melita
of both beauty and battle cries
