What am I then when everything I've known is washed out
The humor doesn’t stick, although she’s grateful for the distraction. The attempt matters more than the results, and when she’s in a better state of mind, it might come creeping back in like a dog asking forgiveness. The acknowledgement of how much ass she’s using does much the same, and she doesn’t hold it long, especially because she doesn’t entirely agree with it. She’s trying not to go into this with her head in the clouds just because she’s lost her footing, but there’s still a lot for her to figure out and decide. Including, is she actually gonna do this? She keeps mentioning it, slipping it out like a love note and bracing for the heartbreak, but everyone just keeps sealing it with a kiss and giving it back, so she’s begun to collect shades of lipstick instead of the expected tears.
When Flora mentions a contact potential, and what could be made from it, that Colt holds onto. ”Y’know, you got more sides to you than a crooked barn in a windstorm,” she remarks, the appreciation drawn out slow as her gaze slides across the Doubetake, seeing her in a fresh light. She’s sorely misjudged Flora more than once now. ”I’ll be sure to see a cactus about its thorns.” Her lips quirk to the side, the start of a smile twitching there.
She makes to rise about the same time Flora steps off her lean. Colt kicks her stool in with a toe, leaving the station back to the weaponsmith. ”If you know any sailors that don’t mind hooves on deck, I’d appreciate the connection. The ones I got now, they don’t go out that way.” It’s ships and men she’s had connections with for years to sell her cattle, but the route is worn and set with time, and the shipments large to make it worth their hassle. What she needs next, to take what remains to Hak Etme, it’s smaller, and there’s no trade benefit for the sailors once they get to the desert. She could pay, a pretty price, but she’s being mindful of her spending, and she’ll avoid the cost of convenience until she gets desperate enough.
”And if you know anyone crazy enough to try with me, I could use all the hands I can get to wrestle a place like that under heel.” She glances around, the port and the hum of Torchline an impressive beast of trade and politics. ”I expect you’ll be seeing me around more, either stocking up, or limping back here if it goes tits up.” Assuming she does this…it’s sounding like she’s doing this…fuck, is she really doing this?
If she fails, a beach is not so different from a desert, and maybe she could carve something of her own outta here if worse came to worse. She’s not sure she can ever return ‘home’ to King’s End, not when just the thought of it puts her teeth on edge right now. Maybe in time that’d pass, but it’s hard enough to see past the feelings to the desert, much less back around to the ashes of what she’d once had.
When Flora mentions a contact potential, and what could be made from it, that Colt holds onto. ”Y’know, you got more sides to you than a crooked barn in a windstorm,” she remarks, the appreciation drawn out slow as her gaze slides across the Doubetake, seeing her in a fresh light. She’s sorely misjudged Flora more than once now. ”I’ll be sure to see a cactus about its thorns.” Her lips quirk to the side, the start of a smile twitching there.
She makes to rise about the same time Flora steps off her lean. Colt kicks her stool in with a toe, leaving the station back to the weaponsmith. ”If you know any sailors that don’t mind hooves on deck, I’d appreciate the connection. The ones I got now, they don’t go out that way.” It’s ships and men she’s had connections with for years to sell her cattle, but the route is worn and set with time, and the shipments large to make it worth their hassle. What she needs next, to take what remains to Hak Etme, it’s smaller, and there’s no trade benefit for the sailors once they get to the desert. She could pay, a pretty price, but she’s being mindful of her spending, and she’ll avoid the cost of convenience until she gets desperate enough.
”And if you know anyone crazy enough to try with me, I could use all the hands I can get to wrestle a place like that under heel.” She glances around, the port and the hum of Torchline an impressive beast of trade and politics. ”I expect you’ll be seeing me around more, either stocking up, or limping back here if it goes tits up.” Assuming she does this…it’s sounding like she’s doing this…fuck, is she really doing this?
If she fails, a beach is not so different from a desert, and maybe she could carve something of her own outta here if worse came to worse. She’s not sure she can ever return ‘home’ to King’s End, not when just the thought of it puts her teeth on edge right now. Maybe in time that’d pass, but it’s hard enough to see past the feelings to the desert, much less back around to the ashes of what she’d once had.
Colt
Don't care if there's pieces left to mend, If I stay broken I can't be broken again
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.
