but there's chaos brewing
underneath my skin
Her heart softened at the appearance of Remi and Ronin, a small smile for both of them (gone and fleeting, weren’t they, all these damned relationships, friends, allies, comrades?), before her eyes caught the pale woman again, ignoring Nate altogether. Maea’s appearance and actions really just made her want to retch, and there were a few moments where she thought to turn her head and mime the motion. That’d be a layer of petulance no one needed or required (yearning to do it all the same). Instead, she opted for a shudder, then looked away, glancing over the remains, the place where a boxing ring would be in place. There were a few she’d like to punch now.
When Sunjata chose to address her, with a bright smile and a pondering of if she was staying in Torchline, her brow furrowed, arms crossed again. “I’m still living at the bar.” Which just meant she’d been completely forgotten. Ignored. Not even remotely noticed by someone who claimed to be her kin. Her gaze went to Maea again, jaw clenching, nostrils flaring, and then growing silent.
She’d like to pout and set off a wave of fireworks, but it wasn’t worth it. Enough had been said. She listened to directions, and then opted to follow after Remi, and since she lacked magic, grabbed a shovel. She gathered her muscles, her strength, her accord, her frustration, and then settled into digging holes, making way for beams.
--
Melita goes to dig holes!
When Sunjata chose to address her, with a bright smile and a pondering of if she was staying in Torchline, her brow furrowed, arms crossed again. “I’m still living at the bar.” Which just meant she’d been completely forgotten. Ignored. Not even remotely noticed by someone who claimed to be her kin. Her gaze went to Maea again, jaw clenching, nostrils flaring, and then growing silent.
She’d like to pout and set off a wave of fireworks, but it wasn’t worth it. Enough had been said. She listened to directions, and then opted to follow after Remi, and since she lacked magic, grabbed a shovel. She gathered her muscles, her strength, her accord, her frustration, and then settled into digging holes, making way for beams.
--
Melita goes to dig holes!
trying to hold in the storm
instead of making waves
MELITA
