WESSEX
the wraith
She hasn’t been to Halo in a while, at least since she’s been sick; every now and then someone offers her a small nod or a wave and the Queen returns it, more than a little surprised that people still ‘remember’ her. Though maybe she shouldn’t be, maybe she isn’t as great at reading people as she once was. Maybe she’s losing her edge. At least it feels good to be out of the Grounds. Faintly feel that crisp, knife-sharp air. Enjoy a change of scenery, because she can. Ruling is hard. Shit gets old.
She pulls the hood of her cloak over her head, trying to hide her tell-tale blonde cut. Putting her head down and concealing more of her decidedly non-Halo-appropriate clothing, she tries to blend in, walking around the Citadel until she turns down a street she doesn’t recognize. Somewhere about halfway way, there’s a man on a bench. It isn’t until she almost passes him that she realizes he probably feels similarly to to herself.
“Rough day?” Wessex asks as she pauses, one foot still in front of the other.
she's pullin' the trigger
cause it's me and the moon, she says
and i have no trouble with that
