gratuitous violence; unnecessary, satisfying, heartbreaking
Longheat nights are both sweet and salty in Torchline, and Ronin appreciates the ruffle of the sea breeze in his hair as they sail, swift and silent, over the Maw. He has never been this far out before into the Arclight, and the way the waters below turn blacker than black is as beautiful as it is unnerving. "I hope you don't mind having our little meeting like this," he murmurs to Maeve, smiling across at her.
He has taken them via his nimbus, the cloud more than capable of holding two, and given that Ronin's legs are dangling over the edge of it, there's plenty of room for the Queen at his side to stretch out. "I've been feeling drawn out here, lately. Maybe I just miss Torchline," he says, a little bashful in his admission. (The truth, of course, is the sea monster lurking in his blood, but he doesn't know anything about that, yet).
"Shall we stop and have tea?" he asks, gesturing to the picnic he'd been sure to bring.
He has taken them via his nimbus, the cloud more than capable of holding two, and given that Ronin's legs are dangling over the edge of it, there's plenty of room for the Queen at his side to stretch out. "I've been feeling drawn out here, lately. Maybe I just miss Torchline," he says, a little bashful in his admission. (The truth, of course, is the sea monster lurking in his blood, but he doesn't know anything about that, yet).
"Shall we stop and have tea?" he asks, gesturing to the picnic he'd been sure to bring.
RONIN
