REXANNA
i was born with a knife in one hand
There’s a familiar smile that crosses her pale face as he mentions that they wreaked havoc. Though the look on his face is nearly a mix of something akin to confusion – unsure if he should be proud or concerned over the events that had taken place. But she watches regardless, listening, a band of outcasts keen on revenge and righting the wrongs that had been done to them. She was familiar with that, she had raged like a storm for much of the same.
And she nods, watching the board before them as he moves the Basin piece into place and her brows lift. And her eyes drift up to the Reaper’s face with a hint of surprise. “Oh.” She pauses, uncertain how to continue – a million questions on the tip of her tongue. So she settles for silence during the story, allowing him and letting him tell it – sitting on the edge of her seat with every new revelation.
Though she grows confused when he mentions they weren’t satisfied. Her head tilts slightly as she bites on the inside of her cheek a small amount. She doesn’t know what it would have been like – to be a band of outcasts, thrown out of their home by invaders, only to be gifted a piece and be unsatisfied with the result. But she’s sure that eventually they came to terms with it – it had felt as so when she stepped through the icy tundra that had been her home.
He mentions that he was a General, and she nods, eyes drifting up to his face. “Who was ruling at the time?” She asks softly, wondering if she knew the names, heard the stories. But the question falls from her mind the minute a smile crosses her face as the mention of Thieves stealing Mirage. And for a moment she shares in the pride of what it must have felt like. It fades immediately when he mentions they had taken him instead.
“Deimos.” She nearly whispers as her brows furrow and she searches his face. “For how long?”
And she nods, watching the board before them as he moves the Basin piece into place and her brows lift. And her eyes drift up to the Reaper’s face with a hint of surprise. “Oh.” She pauses, uncertain how to continue – a million questions on the tip of her tongue. So she settles for silence during the story, allowing him and letting him tell it – sitting on the edge of her seat with every new revelation.
Though she grows confused when he mentions they weren’t satisfied. Her head tilts slightly as she bites on the inside of her cheek a small amount. She doesn’t know what it would have been like – to be a band of outcasts, thrown out of their home by invaders, only to be gifted a piece and be unsatisfied with the result. But she’s sure that eventually they came to terms with it – it had felt as so when she stepped through the icy tundra that had been her home.
He mentions that he was a General, and she nods, eyes drifting up to his face. “Who was ruling at the time?” She asks softly, wondering if she knew the names, heard the stories. But the question falls from her mind the minute a smile crosses her face as the mention of Thieves stealing Mirage. And for a moment she shares in the pride of what it must have felt like. It fades immediately when he mentions they had taken him instead.
“Deimos.” She nearly whispers as her brows furrow and she searches his face. “For how long?”
and a wound in the other
