Aurelia
and that the world is always our fault
when we did nothing, how did we do wrong?
when we did nothing, how did we do wrong?
Aurelia glances down at the smoke she's puffing on absently. This is her choice of cigarette, actually - she doesn't know if Rigby will like them, but she thinks they're better. In a way, it's her attempt at being considerate. Maybe make strides towards amends, or - Gods forbid - trust. "They're sweet. Like... well, see for yourself," she shrugs her hand toward him in a gesture that seems to say 'go for it'. He'll find that the taste is sweet, though there's no underlying malevolence behind that. It's not such a strong flavor as to be off-putting; a barely-there taste of something like... a tart, maybe.
She watches him settle back into the chair and she folds her arms over her chest, contemplating the amusement she could garner with being just as vague as he is. But, she relents instead. "It was ... fine. Mowed down some encantados with the ship. Did some exploring. Got a few things. Fell out of a tree. All in all, pretty standard levels of chaos," she nods decisively.
As she goes to put away a few cluttered things into a drawer where she thinks they go, she finds a deck of cards. A clever grin tugs at her features and she holds them up so Rigby might see. "Hey," she turns back toward him anyway and brings the deck over to the table he's sitting near. "Let's play a game."
"Loser cleans up your mess," she arches a brow at him in expectation. Without bothering to wait for agreement, she begins to set up the cards.
She watches him settle back into the chair and she folds her arms over her chest, contemplating the amusement she could garner with being just as vague as he is. But, she relents instead. "It was ... fine. Mowed down some encantados with the ship. Did some exploring. Got a few things. Fell out of a tree. All in all, pretty standard levels of chaos," she nods decisively.
As she goes to put away a few cluttered things into a drawer where she thinks they go, she finds a deck of cards. A clever grin tugs at her features and she holds them up so Rigby might see. "Hey," she turns back toward him anyway and brings the deck over to the table he's sitting near. "Let's play a game."
"Loser cleans up your mess," she arches a brow at him in expectation. Without bothering to wait for agreement, she begins to set up the cards.
and I've been thinking that when we thought
the world would break us, that we weren't wrong
the world would break us, that we weren't wrong
