Tell me I got something to believe in'
It’s a mixed bag of reactions. Not out loud—in voice, everyone’s in agreement, no further proof needed by any of them. It’s more sway than she expected, and reminds her that she’d not given Thalassa the same power, which causes Colt’s lips to scrunch to the side for a moment in consideration of what that says about her. Given where she’s ended up, she should have listened to the Ancient’s first warning, same as these girls are doing.
The quiet parts thought. The things they don’t say, those vary. It seems some know him in varying degrees, and others very little. Flora, in particular, draws lines that Colt never meant to give shape to. ”No, I wouldn’t say that.” She falters, trying to take back what she’s already given. He’s got plenty of similarities to his father, and Colt doesn’t even know the half of it, and even though she still doesn’t dislike Jack either, the comparison suggests something undesirable there and she hates the clash of it on him.
”He’s…he’s better. Just—” she sighs, because what warning did she try to give them? Would it be better to warn them of her, and all her selfishness, just to cut her down to size if she can’t push him back up. ”Maybe don’t kiss him, is all.” Don’t fall for him, she means, not unless you wanna break.
She downs her second drink too quickly again, ducking behind the burn as they pull a name out of Mel. Colt, actually, does not know what it’s like to have a friend become more. She has always rushed in or rushed out, as if it might save her time, and yet here she is with nothing to show for it but empty hands looking for something to do, always. ”He did a good job fighting that giant toad with me in the swamp,” Colt offers up of Iskra amid glancing back at the table, considering if she could stealthily get a third glass without calling too much attention to her thirst.
Willing herself to stay put and instead rotating the glass idly in her hand, Colt huffs out a laugh. ”Bet he wanted to see your top off,” Colt reasons, then shrugs, ”I mean, who doesn’t?” Frowning though, Colt wonders, ”What’d he do afterwards?”
Her brows climb now, surprise choking out, ”they burned it down?” Over that she nearly tacks on, though her tone does a fine enough job of it. To think, she’d felt bad for them, and it was all just a ruse? A lie then, when she’d asked Vesper that day on the docks, or at the very least a very specific truth. It hollows her a touch, to recognize a memory is more rusted than she realized, wondering how many other times it’d been the same for other things said.
Yeah, she needs that drink now.
Bumping off her cushion with an aggressive stride, Colt openly swipes up the champagne and pours generously. ”Should’ve trampled him too,” Colt says dryly of Soh’s bucking adventures. ”Is it supposed to be that complicated?” she has to beg to wonder of the group, as much on behalf of Soh as other inquiring minds.
The quiet parts thought. The things they don’t say, those vary. It seems some know him in varying degrees, and others very little. Flora, in particular, draws lines that Colt never meant to give shape to. ”No, I wouldn’t say that.” She falters, trying to take back what she’s already given. He’s got plenty of similarities to his father, and Colt doesn’t even know the half of it, and even though she still doesn’t dislike Jack either, the comparison suggests something undesirable there and she hates the clash of it on him.
”He’s…he’s better. Just—” she sighs, because what warning did she try to give them? Would it be better to warn them of her, and all her selfishness, just to cut her down to size if she can’t push him back up. ”Maybe don’t kiss him, is all.” Don’t fall for him, she means, not unless you wanna break.
She downs her second drink too quickly again, ducking behind the burn as they pull a name out of Mel. Colt, actually, does not know what it’s like to have a friend become more. She has always rushed in or rushed out, as if it might save her time, and yet here she is with nothing to show for it but empty hands looking for something to do, always. ”He did a good job fighting that giant toad with me in the swamp,” Colt offers up of Iskra amid glancing back at the table, considering if she could stealthily get a third glass without calling too much attention to her thirst.
Willing herself to stay put and instead rotating the glass idly in her hand, Colt huffs out a laugh. ”Bet he wanted to see your top off,” Colt reasons, then shrugs, ”I mean, who doesn’t?” Frowning though, Colt wonders, ”What’d he do afterwards?”
Her brows climb now, surprise choking out, ”they burned it down?” Over that she nearly tacks on, though her tone does a fine enough job of it. To think, she’d felt bad for them, and it was all just a ruse? A lie then, when she’d asked Vesper that day on the docks, or at the very least a very specific truth. It hollows her a touch, to recognize a memory is more rusted than she realized, wondering how many other times it’d been the same for other things said.
Yeah, she needs that drink now.
Bumping off her cushion with an aggressive stride, Colt openly swipes up the champagne and pours generously. ”Should’ve trampled him too,” Colt says dryly of Soh’s bucking adventures. ”Is it supposed to be that complicated?” she has to beg to wonder of the group, as much on behalf of Soh as other inquiring minds.
Colt
Tell me that you'll love me 'til you leave me
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
