Maeve
The smile that curls on her lips for Aurelia is of the easy sort. One that settles there without issue simply because it's for the other woman. Maeve releases her hand so she might continue to clear their path, cutting a swath through the dense greenery that reaches for them despite the fact that none of these surrounding plants are sentient, threatening to snag on their clothes either way. "It's for my weapon. A proper magical one. The bow Remi made for me is lovely, but I want more options."
She pushes a few of the dangling vines out of her way, letting them swing behind her as she presses forward, steps following behind Aurelia's. "And it can be whatever length I prefer. It'll be for a whip. So it should be rather long. Around eight feet or so." Anything longer would be hard to manage, but shorter wouldn't allow for proper flow or reach. "As for why it has to be sentient, I'm really not sure. It's what Safrin asked for and I'm not in the habit of questioning her on such things." It was best not to if she wished to stay on her goddess's good side.
Aurelia's apprehension isn't unfounded. Maeve knew just how finicky the damn things could be. It's how she got one of the few scars on her body after all. When one of them yanked her into the water, causing her to hit her head rather hard, leaving a small scar at her temple. As Aurelia begins her story, Maeve listens raptly, eyes widening as she weaves the tale seamlessly all while guiding them forward. The scar was familiar. It was one of the few that Maeve had seen the one time they were together. There were others than she didn't get to commit to memory, but the familiar longing to stirred in her all over again.
"I can see why you aren't a fan. I can't say I am either. I told you about the one that tripped me, right? Before I got slung into the tar pits with Rigby?" Maeve questions as they press forward, unsure if she shared that part of the story or not. Certain details of that day were fuzzy now, but it felt so long ago now. All of it did. She pauses at the sound of rustling, glancing up above them as a small swarm of Modilu Flies flit about above them, wings taking on a soft pink hue and Maeve blinks in surprise. "Have you seen these little guys before?"
Her curiosity is clear in her voice and the wings shift from a steady shimmering pink so a mix of pink and orange instead. Well, wasn't this interesting.
She pushes a few of the dangling vines out of her way, letting them swing behind her as she presses forward, steps following behind Aurelia's. "And it can be whatever length I prefer. It'll be for a whip. So it should be rather long. Around eight feet or so." Anything longer would be hard to manage, but shorter wouldn't allow for proper flow or reach. "As for why it has to be sentient, I'm really not sure. It's what Safrin asked for and I'm not in the habit of questioning her on such things." It was best not to if she wished to stay on her goddess's good side.
Aurelia's apprehension isn't unfounded. Maeve knew just how finicky the damn things could be. It's how she got one of the few scars on her body after all. When one of them yanked her into the water, causing her to hit her head rather hard, leaving a small scar at her temple. As Aurelia begins her story, Maeve listens raptly, eyes widening as she weaves the tale seamlessly all while guiding them forward. The scar was familiar. It was one of the few that Maeve had seen the one time they were together. There were others than she didn't get to commit to memory, but the familiar longing to stirred in her all over again.
"I can see why you aren't a fan. I can't say I am either. I told you about the one that tripped me, right? Before I got slung into the tar pits with Rigby?" Maeve questions as they press forward, unsure if she shared that part of the story or not. Certain details of that day were fuzzy now, but it felt so long ago now. All of it did. She pauses at the sound of rustling, glancing up above them as a small swarm of Modilu Flies flit about above them, wings taking on a soft pink hue and Maeve blinks in surprise. "Have you seen these little guys before?"
Her curiosity is clear in her voice and the wings shift from a steady shimmering pink so a mix of pink and orange instead. Well, wasn't this interesting.
But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush
I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
