WESSEX
the wraith
“Yeah, that bar is going to remain outside,” Wessex manages with an eye roll meaning mostly ‘whatcha gonna do?’ People will be people. And she remembers LongNight being far more bearable some years when she was able to drink herself to sleep. The problem comes with the Outlanders not having the need for silence ingrained in them since birth. Alcohol makes them rowdy. Alcohol makes them loud and prone to even more stupid decisions than usual. So that’s about it, Wessex thinks, eager to get back to the Temple proper and start whispering the word. “Good. If anything happens, make sure someone grabs the shells…” A pause. She swallows. “I will be the last one in. But if I tell you to close it before I’m in - do it. Don’t worry about me. The other Ascended will be able to verify whether or not it’s me if ‘I’ come knocking.” That nasty little part of her sneers and says that the midwife would be more than happy to leave her out with the monsters if she could get away with it, but none of that makes it past her ‘issuing directions face.’
Taking a last look around the chamber, Wessex turns to go, then turns back quickly. “Anything to add?”
she's pullin' the trigger
cause it's me and the moon, she says
and i have no trouble with that
