[Se] I need color

Melita

I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles

Melita could argue that the Voice didn’t have anything good planned for her research either – based on sickness, disease, death, LongNight…the list might’ve continued had she been allotted as much information as others. Perhaps that too, in some way, was for the best – head in the sand, buried under simpler factions of mischief and dominion. She held her tongue regardless, studying and perusing her wares, finishing up with the vegetable, content with the polish, sheen, and shine. “Power does a lot to people, doesn’t it?” She murmured quietly, thinking methodically for once, content to sigh and sift through the remains of her work, pondering over starting another portion of the lantern’s panes.

and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me