Hotaru
It’s both a privilege and a curse to be one of the few privy to Deimos’ boyish mischief. Mostly a curse because nobody would ever believe her if she told them. He’s lucky he’s cute, as the saying goes, because even as she is bullied and teased she can’t help her own laughter. This time she at least is capable of setting the crossbow down before his vengeance is enacted, whipping her hair around into what will surely become a birdsnest the likes of which will take her hours to fix.
Sputtering and vaguely grateful for the blindfold keeping her eyes safe from the whip of her hair, the Valkyrie reaches for one of the last remaining two, hoping to end it swiftly. Except it feels like another staff, and she hesitates. Would Deimos have done two of the same to throw her off? For a split second she nearly says it, but the moment she lifts it, the weight on the end is off and holds her tongue. It dips far more than the staff. But if it has a tip, it could be nearly anything. Too short to be a pike, but it could be a glaive or a halberd. So she is forced to investigate it with her fingers again, careful now that she knows it will be dulled but still sharper than rounded wood. “Spear, and screw you for doing two poles,” she sputters through her hair trying to invade her mouth, and gripping the spear she whirls in a full circle, even if she knows Deimos may be beyond reach. It’s better odds than throwing it.
Sputtering and vaguely grateful for the blindfold keeping her eyes safe from the whip of her hair, the Valkyrie reaches for one of the last remaining two, hoping to end it swiftly. Except it feels like another staff, and she hesitates. Would Deimos have done two of the same to throw her off? For a split second she nearly says it, but the moment she lifts it, the weight on the end is off and holds her tongue. It dips far more than the staff. But if it has a tip, it could be nearly anything. Too short to be a pike, but it could be a glaive or a halberd. So she is forced to investigate it with her fingers again, careful now that she knows it will be dulled but still sharper than rounded wood. “Spear, and screw you for doing two poles,” she sputters through her hair trying to invade her mouth, and gripping the spear she whirls in a full circle, even if she knows Deimos may be beyond reach. It’s better odds than throwing it.
what I did, do, to me and you, keeps me awake
if I were a ghost, you'd be the proof
if I were a ghost, you'd be the proof
