HOTARU
she is a flower, but she isn't soft
when her petals fall, they hit like bullets
when her petals fall, they hit like bullets
"You cannot rule their lands for them my dear," she points out, serene but unbending. "They know they are welcome here, and you have proven your own personal loyalty in times of crisis. There is nothing more you can do politically." They have their own Queen after all, though Hotaru knows how Wessex struggles to get them to see reason herself. "I believe we are headed for war regardless - the tension between the Gods will not hold out for long. All we can do is try to determine exactly what protecting Halo will mean when it comes to that." Will it be the land? The buildings? The people as a whole, Ascended included? Did Morgan intend to swear Halo as a ruling entity on the side of The Voice? These are questions she does not envy the Warden, ones she'd faced in different forms in her own ruling days.
No wonder she needs a massage.
Hotaru chases the shivers with her fingertips, up along her scapula to hook over the tips of her shoulders and along the fronts of her trapezius muscles. This is where the knots are found anew, and she begins working along their edges to encourage them to loosen before she targets their centers. Even as she focuses here, she can't help the laughter that curls in her chest, genuine and surprised into being. "Frey is happy to teach, I don't think being less than perfect would dissuade them. Part of the fun is in the corruption, is it not?" Though perhaps Morgan would not feel the same, Hotaru isn't sure of the Warden's proclivities there. Fingertips skirt over the base of a scarred up bite mark, and she freezes for a moment, eyes dropping to the lighter sections on Morgan's dark skin. It is not disgust that makes her pause, but grief and envy. And then she continues, swallowing hard, amusement lost. "Though of course, they are dual-deities now. I'm sure with what you're hoping to achieve, you won't have to worry about performing."
No wonder she needs a massage.
Hotaru chases the shivers with her fingertips, up along her scapula to hook over the tips of her shoulders and along the fronts of her trapezius muscles. This is where the knots are found anew, and she begins working along their edges to encourage them to loosen before she targets their centers. Even as she focuses here, she can't help the laughter that curls in her chest, genuine and surprised into being. "Frey is happy to teach, I don't think being less than perfect would dissuade them. Part of the fun is in the corruption, is it not?" Though perhaps Morgan would not feel the same, Hotaru isn't sure of the Warden's proclivities there. Fingertips skirt over the base of a scarred up bite mark, and she freezes for a moment, eyes dropping to the lighter sections on Morgan's dark skin. It is not disgust that makes her pause, but grief and envy. And then she continues, swallowing hard, amusement lost. "Though of course, they are dual-deities now. I'm sure with what you're hoping to achieve, you won't have to worry about performing."
