mama bore a girl with a gun for a mouth
She thought of weddings with blight vitriol splattered all over the terrain, and couldn’t help but laugh to herself. “All right, well, if I have your permission,” and she gave another small smile in return, lined with mischief. “What if I just chucked him over the side of the mountain, hm?” Would anyone complain? Maybe Sah’s kids, but eh.
Implications over their deaths seemed to have drawn them both into quieter depictions – hard not to, when memories were sharper over knives and lightning-drawn scars. If Melita noticed Flora’s withdrawal, she didn’t mention it, pointedly looking nowhere near the Hot Take, but at swirling waters with pools of constellations or in the short distance of snow. “Yeah,” she agreed, only smiling at the semblances of Iskra’s willingness, the safety of trying beneath another who wouldn’t hurt or maim, but tucking that down into her knees too as she folded over again. “That’s understandable. Even when they’re gone…it’s not like they actually are, y’know? I’m sure it’s the way our minds still want to protect us, but gods,” sometimes it went too far and a mere thunderstorm would send her into places she didn’t want to revisit.
Ideas of stealing Ronin’s abilities and twinning did leave her amused, even if it rougher around the edges. Though the glint in Flora’s eyes and the suggestions measured had her laughing much more, letting that echo against her skin and across the veneer. “Oh, you’re asking the wrong person for that. I’d only encourage it.” Her grin widened, impossibly chaotic, imagining a course of scenarios to make her adversaries have an absolutely horrendous day. Abilities that might do more than hinder, hamper, and hobble; she’d want them so curtailed they might as well wished for an early grave. Lowering her voice as if involved in the newest conspiracy, her gaze brightened, seditious and playful. “What were you thinking?”
Implications over their deaths seemed to have drawn them both into quieter depictions – hard not to, when memories were sharper over knives and lightning-drawn scars. If Melita noticed Flora’s withdrawal, she didn’t mention it, pointedly looking nowhere near the Hot Take, but at swirling waters with pools of constellations or in the short distance of snow. “Yeah,” she agreed, only smiling at the semblances of Iskra’s willingness, the safety of trying beneath another who wouldn’t hurt or maim, but tucking that down into her knees too as she folded over again. “That’s understandable. Even when they’re gone…it’s not like they actually are, y’know? I’m sure it’s the way our minds still want to protect us, but gods,” sometimes it went too far and a mere thunderstorm would send her into places she didn’t want to revisit.
Ideas of stealing Ronin’s abilities and twinning did leave her amused, even if it rougher around the edges. Though the glint in Flora’s eyes and the suggestions measured had her laughing much more, letting that echo against her skin and across the veneer. “Oh, you’re asking the wrong person for that. I’d only encourage it.” Her grin widened, impossibly chaotic, imagining a course of scenarios to make her adversaries have an absolutely horrendous day. Abilities that might do more than hinder, hamper, and hobble; she’d want them so curtailed they might as well wished for an early grave. Lowering her voice as if involved in the newest conspiracy, her gaze brightened, seditious and playful. “What were you thinking?”
Melita
of both beauty and battle cries
