Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
Politics were a hard no in Melita’s book. She wouldn’t function well in those diplomatic acts, trying to act like someone she wasn’t as they went ‘round and ‘round deciding upon regional matters. The Honeybee understood weapons and fighting and surviving; her suggestions usually blistered from those components, rather than the vast array of tactful, discrete, and judicious maneuverings. She was much more apt to say ‘cause fuck ‘em, that’s why’ over building lasting bridges between components, which again, was why she wasn’t involved in governmental affairs.
So while they might have drawn on Colt first, she huffed. “But can you shoot faster? Make every shot count? Is that how it’s going to be every time?” Her brows lifted, waiting to see the Accepted’s reaction. When Melita plunged into her armaments, it was because she knew her own might and weight – and even then, it hadn’t always worked to her benefit (see tournaments). It was understanding how far strength went and how aspects could grow – but Colt must’ve known and understood that she didn’t have the means to combat the whole of Torchline, for instance. “Shit always happens around here, and if you make enemies of every other place…,” she shrugged. She trusted the other woman could fill in the blanks.
She leaned back against her railing again, drumming her fingers on the wooden portions. “Yeah, hindsight’s a real bitch, especially when the smoke clears.” And one realized they’d been drifting in on hurricanes and typhoons while everyone else had already shifted away, drawn back into their shelters, smug, content. She’d led a similar life of raised hackles and sharp tongues, thrown knives and imminent explosions. One could argue all of them were justified, but sometimes it hadn’t scarcely mattered. “I get why you offered it. Sohalia had experience in leading and seemed to be interested.” Until suddenly she wasn’t; and therein laid the puzzle. If they peeled away all the knots and unknowns, what might they find? What would anyone admit?
As the conversation spurned to the Luminary though, her eyes narrowed, speculation bright. “Could be.” Friendships were complex, and people even more so. “And some of it might never make sense to you – but that’s where it’s at right now. As for the rank stuff, it depends on the person.” Which she understood wasn’t helpful in the least, but it was also about comprehending the relationships around them. “I bet some leaders here wouldn’t care, and others, way too much. Airing on politeness is probably the best way to go.” That way – well, maybe not as many feathers would be ruffled.
So while they might have drawn on Colt first, she huffed. “But can you shoot faster? Make every shot count? Is that how it’s going to be every time?” Her brows lifted, waiting to see the Accepted’s reaction. When Melita plunged into her armaments, it was because she knew her own might and weight – and even then, it hadn’t always worked to her benefit (see tournaments). It was understanding how far strength went and how aspects could grow – but Colt must’ve known and understood that she didn’t have the means to combat the whole of Torchline, for instance. “Shit always happens around here, and if you make enemies of every other place…,” she shrugged. She trusted the other woman could fill in the blanks.
She leaned back against her railing again, drumming her fingers on the wooden portions. “Yeah, hindsight’s a real bitch, especially when the smoke clears.” And one realized they’d been drifting in on hurricanes and typhoons while everyone else had already shifted away, drawn back into their shelters, smug, content. She’d led a similar life of raised hackles and sharp tongues, thrown knives and imminent explosions. One could argue all of them were justified, but sometimes it hadn’t scarcely mattered. “I get why you offered it. Sohalia had experience in leading and seemed to be interested.” Until suddenly she wasn’t; and therein laid the puzzle. If they peeled away all the knots and unknowns, what might they find? What would anyone admit?
As the conversation spurned to the Luminary though, her eyes narrowed, speculation bright. “Could be.” Friendships were complex, and people even more so. “And some of it might never make sense to you – but that’s where it’s at right now. As for the rank stuff, it depends on the person.” Which she understood wasn’t helpful in the least, but it was also about comprehending the relationships around them. “I bet some leaders here wouldn’t care, and others, way too much. Airing on politeness is probably the best way to go.” That way – well, maybe not as many feathers would be ruffled.
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
