mama bore a girl with a gun for a mouth
“Ah, you’d never need a list again,” she smirked and snickered, imagining turning back time or notions simply to watch and discover things again. Or even to revisit fond memories – pieces of her sister she’d forgotten along the way, or if she could remember the sound of her mother’s warm laughter, the trill of stories as she mended clothing or tended to her herbs. Most of those seemed so far gone, in another world, another portal, another region long since gone, and she gave a quiet sigh to the smile enriching her features. “And you could always see people you’ve lost, y’know?” One didn’t need to beg and plead at the Festival of Lights or hope Remi could bring someone to sit for a spell.
Not wanting it to become something melancholic, she tilted her head and breezed another splash at one of the younger ningo, watching as they flew upwards in some scattered display of stupidity. She listened though, taking in the parallel gestures of those who thought better or worse or strived and tried and never seemed to gain the recognition, or always believed to be inferior. Which wasn’t them - Flora had done hordes and the Honeybee had strived - but it went against the grain in peculiar ways. “Nah, I get it. And they weren’t. Plenty of people got things accomplished without having to always battle their way through something,” even though that was her favorite solution, and she gave half a grin in response. “And I know why they wanted to channel others – because it would be faster and easier. But like, why couldn’t they become better themselves too?” Everyone else put the effort in to become bigger and bolder and brawnier. “I couldn’t imagine being Hadama or Remi and Ronin all the time, being yanked around at the drop of a hat or the first sign of a monster. Or having so many dependent on you.” Instead she’d been pulled for races, and they’d all seen how that had turned out.
The lightness from Flora prospered a laugh though, and she wrinkled her nose in fondness and shared exasperation. “True. And now you can really understand channeling from another angle,” she gave a light-hearted wink, settling back against stones and letting the warmth slide over collarbones and up towards her jaw.
Not wanting it to become something melancholic, she tilted her head and breezed another splash at one of the younger ningo, watching as they flew upwards in some scattered display of stupidity. She listened though, taking in the parallel gestures of those who thought better or worse or strived and tried and never seemed to gain the recognition, or always believed to be inferior. Which wasn’t them - Flora had done hordes and the Honeybee had strived - but it went against the grain in peculiar ways. “Nah, I get it. And they weren’t. Plenty of people got things accomplished without having to always battle their way through something,” even though that was her favorite solution, and she gave half a grin in response. “And I know why they wanted to channel others – because it would be faster and easier. But like, why couldn’t they become better themselves too?” Everyone else put the effort in to become bigger and bolder and brawnier. “I couldn’t imagine being Hadama or Remi and Ronin all the time, being yanked around at the drop of a hat or the first sign of a monster. Or having so many dependent on you.” Instead she’d been pulled for races, and they’d all seen how that had turned out.
The lightness from Flora prospered a laugh though, and she wrinkled her nose in fondness and shared exasperation. “True. And now you can really understand channeling from another angle,” she gave a light-hearted wink, settling back against stones and letting the warmth slide over collarbones and up towards her jaw.
Melita
of both beauty and battle cries
