to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Melita didn’t hide. She was always a very obvious figure whenever she arrived or wandered anywhere – not scrupulous by any means. Instead, she was a firecracker, a sizzling, bristling, impulsive ember, winding her way over the shores, heart slightly lightened with the prospects of her family healed from the latest afflicting clutches. There were always other things, other moments, other presses of time and anguish doomed and damned to come (Sunjata still hadn’t told her of his recent role alteration, and that bit into her knuckles just a bit while she walked and adhered to orders). The youth made no mention of Ludo and the repairs from before, arriving with her bag over her shoulder, with her faithful Fangorn at her ankles, with her eyes scanning, searching, out of habit for the rest of the crew. No Eloise – and that seemed like a bizarre punch to the gut. She hadn’t known the woman well. But she’d been a part of the Ark, and now there were missing figments; more than just the tangible reaches.
Jack didn’t say anything about it, and the slightest bit of wonder, of scrutiny, contorted its way through her mind. She didn’t either, uncertain how or why or when to bring it up, gaze going over towards a newcomer instead – a cheerful wave granted and given to a new face. A quick glance to Saiden - and was he missing an eye??
Thereafter, there were tasks to be chosen. So, ever foolish, ever defiant, ever ridiculous, Melita’s chin jutted upwards. “I’ll take your challenge.”
--
Melita remains her idiotic self and will take The Secret.
to be the sun
MELITA
