”Yea,” she concedes, ”it is different. It sounds worse.” She can’t really imagine being ridiculed by her own family, at least not in a way that was anything but playful. They called each other names and poked fun plenty, but it was out of love and not actual malice. At the end of the day while she doesn’t enjoy being hated by the gods or stared at funny for her magic, she’d pick that over her family doing it to her.
She laughs as he tells her ‘that’s the spirit’. ”You sound like my dad. Stepfather, technically, but regardless.” Her grin is wide, amused, the conversation light for that particular moment. Though she’d never known her real father, her stepfather had been good to her and they’d loved each other as if they were blood. But then he turns bashful...ashamed, maybe? Of what? Of the magic he has? She listens, curious, and then he adds that he’s never been the one in harm’s way. Ah.
”I want healing magic,” she says,matter of factly. ”I want to do more than just hurt and kill. If we are all the hunters, who is there to save us?” The words are sincere, because not everyone can be made of fire and brimstone; not everyone can seek blood and vengeance. They need some that come to the rescue when the rest of them are about to rip each other to shreds. They need some to save them from the hole in their chest the size and shape of an ursur tusk. ”You should be damn proud of all that magic.”
She takes a sip of her drink, finding it nearly empty but not bothering with a refill at the moment. Probably they didn’t need more, though she would keep going if prompted. This was the sort of night for getting drunk and stupid. For now she was just buzzed though and enjoying the conversation, even the dark and deep and hard parts. This was not one of them, though ”I intend to kick your ass,” she says with her playful grin and a wink. Honestly, with all that magic he could absolutely crush her, but she wonders if he actually used it offensively instead of just defensively.
She puts the cup down and leans forward, kissing his forehead in a quick gesture, not shy but simply friendly. ”You just start living. You start doing things that make you happy and not just things that make you numb for half a minute. You run the fuck away from the things that steal your joy.” It’s easier said than done, but still, no one said living was easy.
She laughs as he tells her ‘that’s the spirit’. ”You sound like my dad. Stepfather, technically, but regardless.” Her grin is wide, amused, the conversation light for that particular moment. Though she’d never known her real father, her stepfather had been good to her and they’d loved each other as if they were blood. But then he turns bashful...ashamed, maybe? Of what? Of the magic he has? She listens, curious, and then he adds that he’s never been the one in harm’s way. Ah.
”I want healing magic,” she says,matter of factly. ”I want to do more than just hurt and kill. If we are all the hunters, who is there to save us?” The words are sincere, because not everyone can be made of fire and brimstone; not everyone can seek blood and vengeance. They need some that come to the rescue when the rest of them are about to rip each other to shreds. They need some to save them from the hole in their chest the size and shape of an ursur tusk. ”You should be damn proud of all that magic.”
She takes a sip of her drink, finding it nearly empty but not bothering with a refill at the moment. Probably they didn’t need more, though she would keep going if prompted. This was the sort of night for getting drunk and stupid. For now she was just buzzed though and enjoying the conversation, even the dark and deep and hard parts. This was not one of them, though ”I intend to kick your ass,” she says with her playful grin and a wink. Honestly, with all that magic he could absolutely crush her, but she wonders if he actually used it offensively instead of just defensively.
She puts the cup down and leans forward, kissing his forehead in a quick gesture, not shy but simply friendly. ”You just start living. You start doing things that make you happy and not just things that make you numb for half a minute. You run the fuck away from the things that steal your joy.” It’s easier said than done, but still, no one said living was easy.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
