problem creating skills are where I really shine

mama bore a girl with a gun for a mouth

The more they talked, the more Melita wondered if this was some horror story. She could never imagine a world where she’d shaped someone to be a perfected beacon of what she wanted and craved and desired, with no say on their end. It sounded like a trap, a noose, a snare, dangling by some cruel edges and daggers in the way maybe only people like Jack could surmise. She’d once worked on that ship – knew he loved it, but as property and a vessel – not as a creature ordained to serve him. Something felt very unsettled in her gut, just beyond her ribs, a discomfort as she wrapped her arms around her legs again, tucking her knees into her chest. “So like, do you think she’d ever be able to escape him?” Flora had. But who saved ships from their Captains?

Her eyes chanced briefly to Flora, watching at the brittle smile, before the glance flickered away again. That woman had lived and breathed and died for Jack, and then had managed to cut her ties and chords from him. No small effort. A sharpened and pierced growth from the lovesick girl to the strong leader – but that journey –

The Honeybee sighed, not wanting Jack to be something that always haunted the narrative. He’d like it too much. Determined, she plastered another grin on, meant to be mischievous and sincere and steer the tides away from the aggravating. “All right, happier things. What do you guys need for wedding gifts?”

Melita

of both beauty and battle cries