It's Lord of the Flies in my mind tonight
Now that is something she’s not heard before and it causes both a snort and a deep chuckle. “Can I get that in writing?” she jests (no but really, the deeply disguised part of her that craves approval desperately wants that right now) before moving on to a little more self-deprecation. “Cause I’ve got some people who would die on that hill.” Shrugging, she quickly brushes that comment off too. “But what leader doesn’t?”
The Kraai seems to go one of two ways - boisterous and rough around the edges, or the complete opposite. Though the world around seems loud, the Wraith feels like this booth is creating a quiet bubble all its own, something oddly close and… intimate.
“It isn’t entirely my own fault. I’ve made my fair share of shit choices. But life is a balancing act so I suppose all I can do is try to make up for them.” One step at a time. One saved Outlander at a time. One Sparkbird, one building, one smile. With no worries of ‘goodness,’ required for a happy afterlife she knows she’ll be welcomed with open arms to the Voice’s realm. But the wistfulness in her voice tell of many things she would like to do before them.
Taking another sip, Wessex swills the amber liquid in a practiced manner and then looks at Aurelia with an arched brow. “So what was your home like?” Time to steer away from talking about herself for a bit.
The Kraai seems to go one of two ways - boisterous and rough around the edges, or the complete opposite. Though the world around seems loud, the Wraith feels like this booth is creating a quiet bubble all its own, something oddly close and… intimate.
“It isn’t entirely my own fault. I’ve made my fair share of shit choices. But life is a balancing act so I suppose all I can do is try to make up for them.” One step at a time. One saved Outlander at a time. One Sparkbird, one building, one smile. With no worries of ‘goodness,’ required for a happy afterlife she knows she’ll be welcomed with open arms to the Voice’s realm. But the wistfulness in her voice tell of many things she would like to do before them.
Taking another sip, Wessex swills the amber liquid in a practiced manner and then looks at Aurelia with an arched brow. “So what was your home like?” Time to steer away from talking about herself for a bit.
