WESSEX
There’s a moment of surprise when Wessex hears fuck yeah coming from the face she’s always thought of as so innocent. Her face lights up like a christmas tree before echoing back with enough conviction for the both of them, “Fuck yeah.” Though honestly, she’d forgotten that they’d shut down for a bit, overwhelmed, she assumed, by the use of their power. A flash of guilt sears through her and she bites the inside of her lip in regret. “I didn’t even know that could happen,” she confesses, looking down at the ground. “But we’ll try to keep that from happening again.” All of them. They have to look out for each other.
“Why not both?” the General asks with a slight tilt of her head. “Eventually. The Voice’s generosity is boundless when we know what we want and have purpose.” After all, she only ever wants them to be their brightest, and Azrael is a special sort of bright. All love and Goddess-goodness, they are probably the closest of the three of the demigods to their Lady’s nature: clever, curious, kind, tending towards tinkering and building.
Rounding the corner, the two of them find the old foundations of the Barracks and Wessex pauses where she can try to imagine all of it, at once. “I have a quick question, Az. And I’m sorry to have to ask it, but might as well get it out of the way now and then we can move on to more pleasant things.”
Also, she thinks as an afterthought, Bastien will probably kill her if he hears what she asked them.
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
