"Flatterer," she purrs playfully, sending him a coy qink that emphasizes how frivolously she is taking this encounter. It is amusing to flirt with the citizens of this land. They are far more accepting of her antics, even reciprocating at times without ever feeling as though they are committing to something serious. Loren is handsome enough, though he's certainly not her type. Lacking a few of the essential curves that generally drew Hotaru's eye. His compliment still strokes her ego, appealing to the vanity and narcissism her mother had lovingly gifted her with. Though she could never compare to her mother's beauty, manipulation, or ostentation, she likes to think that perhaps she can follow in her steps nonetheless.
The man is far too kind to be playing in her claws, but he doesn't seem quite as defenseless as he portrays either, not with his sharp eye and rapid deductions. "You shouldn't offer your time and services so lightly, Loren. You'll never know who will take you up on them to their full extent." The wicked gleam of teasing is softened only by the small, sincere smile she aims his way. Hotaru does appreciate it in her own way, though it's more of an appreciation for the well of information he can be to her. At least she won't have to crack him open like a weak acorn between her ravenous teeth to get to those delicious little morsels of knowledge he hides inside. If she deigns to ask him anything that she would not feel utterly comfortable asking Rexanna or Deimos. Which is unlikely.
Ah, but he is just as curious and inquisitive as she. Normally Hotaru would barter for such a release of information, but the name of a dead land scoured and left to ruin doesn't matter to her anymore. It is an old scar, one that has infected her far beneath the skin, but he cannot make it any larger. "Helovia," she says simply in the face of that knowledge. Giving him the equivalent of a blade of grass instead of a dagger that he can place beneath her chin. Ah, Hotaru. Always looking for the worst in people.
Loren fortunately - or perhaps unfortunately, for the woman who thrives on chaos - does not deliver. He expresses concern for the state of the roses, explaining the Blight in looser terms than the ones she had been given regarding Kiada. Humming contemplatively, she turns to gaze out on the pricks of red on the landscape as well. "My niece contracted it," she murmurs. "That is the only reason I do this. I have been burned and betrayed by many Gods in my life, and these ones are too foreign to me for my loyalty. But I would do anything for her, even if that means getting my hands dirty in the boring way." Not that Hotaru would have had any qualms about dirtying her hands with blood either, not if it saved Kiada, but if the forces of this realm bid her to plant flowers well...it's not the most invigorating activity, but she'll do it.
The man is far too kind to be playing in her claws, but he doesn't seem quite as defenseless as he portrays either, not with his sharp eye and rapid deductions. "You shouldn't offer your time and services so lightly, Loren. You'll never know who will take you up on them to their full extent." The wicked gleam of teasing is softened only by the small, sincere smile she aims his way. Hotaru does appreciate it in her own way, though it's more of an appreciation for the well of information he can be to her. At least she won't have to crack him open like a weak acorn between her ravenous teeth to get to those delicious little morsels of knowledge he hides inside. If she deigns to ask him anything that she would not feel utterly comfortable asking Rexanna or Deimos. Which is unlikely.
Ah, but he is just as curious and inquisitive as she. Normally Hotaru would barter for such a release of information, but the name of a dead land scoured and left to ruin doesn't matter to her anymore. It is an old scar, one that has infected her far beneath the skin, but he cannot make it any larger. "Helovia," she says simply in the face of that knowledge. Giving him the equivalent of a blade of grass instead of a dagger that he can place beneath her chin. Ah, Hotaru. Always looking for the worst in people.
Loren fortunately - or perhaps unfortunately, for the woman who thrives on chaos - does not deliver. He expresses concern for the state of the roses, explaining the Blight in looser terms than the ones she had been given regarding Kiada. Humming contemplatively, she turns to gaze out on the pricks of red on the landscape as well. "My niece contracted it," she murmurs. "That is the only reason I do this. I have been burned and betrayed by many Gods in my life, and these ones are too foreign to me for my loyalty. But I would do anything for her, even if that means getting my hands dirty in the boring way." Not that Hotaru would have had any qualms about dirtying her hands with blood either, not if it saved Kiada, but if the forces of this realm bid her to plant flowers well...it's not the most invigorating activity, but she'll do it.
the horror you have seen is not who you are
