MELITA
It wouldn’t have much mattered in how many times Melita had tried to claw her way back to Clementine. It had been in different worlds, different places, different tracks of life – no gods to pull someone back from the afterlife, no one like Ronin to bless a stranger with another breath. It’d been their mother, Clem, and Melita, until it dwindled down to just her in a span of weeks. Perhaps it was why she wore survival like it’d been burned into her veins. Sometimes it was all Melita knew or understood; how to rake claws down throats, siege, and assault. Not meaning to dim the situation, she gave a light smile. “Yeah,” shrugging it off and away because she’d worn that mantle for years, and no amount of movement was going to make it flutter off.
Half-tempted to cannonball again just to get away from the brooding fixtures, merch and Kaisel seemed to be the right combination, a distraction, a deterrent from deeper implications. She leaned across her float again and laughed, knowing in some detail about the underwear situation. “Okay, but you could imagine him getting some Remi and Ronin pjs for all of you. Then everyone could wear them around your big house. It’d be grand.” Maybe she’d put the idea in his head next time she saw him, if he hadn’t already conjured up the clothing.
Pausing, smile warming up to more mischief, she indulged into more of the gossipy circuits. "What's the worst thing he's had though?"
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun
Disappear into the sun
