KIADA
your battleworn tongue doesn't say the truth anymore
that you are ruined
All she receives in response is a sharp head nod, and while Kiada believes she’s prepared, she’s not for the untamed fury that immediately ascends onto her. Melita is graceful, where Kiada fumbles, and she silently curses herself for such a thing. She grits her teeth, gripping onto the wood and preparing for what kind of attack Melita chooses, suddenly watching the staff extend out of her right hand. Kiada, in turn, tries to avoid it by stepping and swinging her left leg back – but before she has a chance to move her hand in response, she feels the sharp crack of the staff against her knuckle, the joint already turning bright red and sore.
Kiada swears quietly under her breath, but she maintains control enough to hold onto the wood still and use the momentum from trying to avoid the attack, to swing and plant her leg toward Melita – aiming the side of the wood to hit Melita’s right side if it’s left open, before she tries to retreat out of Melita’s reach. Her hand throbs with the movement, and she curses under her breath further as her heartbeat races, pulsing through her hand. She accepts the pain, however, finding it a better feeling than the nothingness she’d felt for the last few weeks.
It’s benefitting, for the both of them. Where Melita thinks she’s punishing Kiada for the wrongdoings of her past, she knows she’s already atoned for them. Why else would she have suffered such a terrible, long, horrible life? If it makes the fiery girl feel better, Kiada is happy for it. And she’s happy to feel the frustration and wildness pulsate in the air around them. Somehow, somewhere, that cracked piece of her fills with something other than a cold, dark wind.
Kiada swears quietly under her breath, but she maintains control enough to hold onto the wood still and use the momentum from trying to avoid the attack, to swing and plant her leg toward Melita – aiming the side of the wood to hit Melita’s right side if it’s left open, before she tries to retreat out of Melita’s reach. Her hand throbs with the movement, and she curses under her breath further as her heartbeat races, pulsing through her hand. She accepts the pain, however, finding it a better feeling than the nothingness she’d felt for the last few weeks.
It’s benefitting, for the both of them. Where Melita thinks she’s punishing Kiada for the wrongdoings of her past, she knows she’s already atoned for them. Why else would she have suffered such a terrible, long, horrible life? If it makes the fiery girl feel better, Kiada is happy for it. And she’s happy to feel the frustration and wildness pulsate in the air around them. Somehow, somewhere, that cracked piece of her fills with something other than a cold, dark wind.
and you wonder why he lets you
the butcher
touch him,
the sun
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
