where'er the goddess turns her melancholy gaze, Man his loathsomeness displays
Her mouth thins, tips of canines - blessedly blunt, unlike the cruel individuals they speak of - peeking beyond the paling color of her lips as some hateful grimace contorts further on her face. Her hands are too well-trained to shake, but the warm brown of her skin is pallid around straining knuckles. “Why we wait for a signal from some vague external source to end their reign of terror is beyond me. But I follow where you lead us, Ronin.” In all things large and small. Today, that means pouring the next vial; though Anju eyes it with less disgust, the idea of being both Abandoend and Ascended is still distasteful, and she is grateful to be dumping the contents out.
“Thank you. I respectfully disagree - I am no scholar or strategist, off the immediate field - but I will do my best to honor the dead by continuing their efforts.” Which may mean cracking more books than heads, as she’s used to, but Anju has perseverance in spades.
“Thank you. I respectfully disagree - I am no scholar or strategist, off the immediate field - but I will do my best to honor the dead by continuing their efforts.” Which may mean cracking more books than heads, as she’s used to, but Anju has perseverance in spades.
ANJU
