LILY
oh, cover your crystal eyes
and let your colors bleed and blend with mine
and let your colors bleed and blend with mine
She is grateful that none of them point out the obvious; it’s just enough for Deimos to ask and for everyone else to ignore it, though they all probably know what’s going on. There’s a sad smile from Remi and a stiff upper lip from Rex. This is her show, after all, so Lily gives her a hug (disappointed that she can’t seem to sap any warmth from the newly Ascended woman) and a quiet “Me too,” before the bride-to-be jaunts off again. “Not really,” she replies low and brusquely to Deimos, neither kind nor unkind, more of an we aren’t here to talk about this kind of thing.
Flowers? A easy enough task. Perhaps given because it doesn’t take much doing, just a general knowledge of pretty things and where to find them (there’s at least one in this room, two if you go for the sickly, pale look, and five if you’re bi heyyooo). She nods and sets to her task, for a moment able to remember the place to find holly and its berries, ranuculus, the cold-bearing camellias, and - and - and FUCK this is stupid, who wants FLOWERS in WINTER?!?
Lily laughs, a harsh, brittle sound that no one here has ever heard come out of her mouth. And it’s petty, holy fuck is it petty, but just the idea of going out and searching for pretty things in the cold makes the redhead angry. “I can barely keep warm and you want me to figure out what’s still alive out there?” She throws a look to the cavorting, apparently carefree Remi, absolutely blameless in this (they’re all innocent), but the necessary victim of her ire. “Mr. Magician here can do all kinds of shit, can’t he just conjure up a mini golden luxere to fucking prance down the aisle in front of you? Would that do?”
She sneers. There's more venom behind her teeth and it's all just dying to come out. Give her a reason, someone please, give her a goddamn reason.
