get the moonlight out of your hair

Lily sing me a song of a lass that is gone Given Lily’s distant past and less-than-distant past, she finds herself surprisingly content to just… sit here and talk with Harper. No pressure other than what she puts on herself, no expectations that it’ll lead anywhere other than them going their separate ways at the end of the night. And while, yes, she might fantasize about a certain dashing smile and blue eyes later, it feels nice to have a conversation with someone who seems as open to talking about themselves as she is (cough, cough, Sunjata). “I’m like Phoebe,” she says with a bit of a sheepish grin and half-apologetic shrug. “Given my past, it just seems natural. And like Safrin with you, they’ve been quite kind to me. I’ve met her, too - but not Ludo. Honestly… organized religion makes me… tense. Really tense.” Her cheeks puff out as she exhales dramatically. “Which is probably also why I like Frey. They don’t… care about what doesn’t fall under their umbrella. I don’t have to choose a side in this Old Gods - New Gods thing.” She shakes her head a bit sadly, briefly thinking about everything she’s heard and seen lately. “I saw enough discrimination and rules and piety in the Church. Being told you’re going to Hell for trying to make a living week after week gets old, you know?” That seems to be all the vulnerability she can handle at the moment, taking a sip of her drink to steel her spine. After all, it’s in the past and it can’t hurt her now. As Harper begins to tell her what’s happened in the past four hundred years, her jaw literally drops a little, as each war is announced, each group of people fights for themselves, cures for the main ailments of her time are found, and - can she believe it? - a black and a female president? Exhaling in awe (apparently she was holding her breath and didn’t realize it), blue-green eyes are wide and maybe on the verge of tears as she tries to take it all in. “That… that sounds amazing,” she says quietly. “That our infant country does all that? All the bad and the good?” Now the tears are slipping out and she laughs at herself because why in the world is she crying? A dainty pale hand brushes them from the corner of her eyes as she takes another sip, and realizes she’s finished with the drink. merry of soul, she sailed on a day over the sea to Skye