Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
The silence after her questions was telling – so she didn’t press much more into it, her brow arching, waiting for a response, and then letting it sink into the denizens and resin of the ship. “Depends on what the fight is,” she reckoned, making a case to study her fingernails, then glance back up to Colt. “But on this one, probably not. There are going to be worse things than rank disputes and liars. You can probably find someone else to take it on.” Individuals far more trustworthy and willing, not so directly tied or mauled to individuals. There were often many who wanted to make a name for themselves, to carve deep into the earth with all their boldness and grit. She presumed Colt was one of them, to be doing this at all. Maybe Sohalia wouldn’t have survived those plains of desert sands anyway – a land too harsh for those easily softened by other pressures. “You could take it as a blessing – sounds like she might’ve been a real pain in the ass to work with. At least it shows you she wasn’t up to the task.”
The Honeybee couldn’t speak for diplomacy – but she’d been in her uncle’s presence enough to understand it was a necessity, and when one couldn’t employ it, sometimes there were deadly, nefarious arrangements elsewhere. Knowing one’s way around with pretty words and gestures and negotiations skills wasn’t something she’d prefer – drawing a knife was much, much easier – but no one would be inviting Ludo’s demigod into any sort of tactful, foreign policies. “Do you have people willing to go into the desert? Could start there, see if any of ‘em would want to step up. Or weed them out.”
She could hear the way Colt kept herself mired though, and she shifted her glance to stare openly at the Accepted, snorting loudly. “But here’s the thing, and you probably don’t want to hear it,” but Melita was Melita, and she was going to say it anyway. “If you let it be fucked now, it’s going to be fucked later. May want to try an apology with Flora. Not to make it worse, but it’s not great to try and lead a new region with a target already on your back,” even if it was difficult, fresh, and new. The Doubletake was the type to let wounds fester and rot, dragging the ache further, and would willingly make Colt’s life harder just for shits and grins.
The Honeybee couldn’t speak for diplomacy – but she’d been in her uncle’s presence enough to understand it was a necessity, and when one couldn’t employ it, sometimes there were deadly, nefarious arrangements elsewhere. Knowing one’s way around with pretty words and gestures and negotiations skills wasn’t something she’d prefer – drawing a knife was much, much easier – but no one would be inviting Ludo’s demigod into any sort of tactful, foreign policies. “Do you have people willing to go into the desert? Could start there, see if any of ‘em would want to step up. Or weed them out.”
She could hear the way Colt kept herself mired though, and she shifted her glance to stare openly at the Accepted, snorting loudly. “But here’s the thing, and you probably don’t want to hear it,” but Melita was Melita, and she was going to say it anyway. “If you let it be fucked now, it’s going to be fucked later. May want to try an apology with Flora. Not to make it worse, but it’s not great to try and lead a new region with a target already on your back,” even if it was difficult, fresh, and new. The Doubletake was the type to let wounds fester and rot, dragging the ache further, and would willingly make Colt’s life harder just for shits and grins.
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
