EVIE
Her imagination runs wild with her strapped helplessly to it at the leading phrase he hands her, and she can’t hide the laughter that bubbles up behind her grinning teeth. “Stop, if you get my started I’m going to be useless trying to bake,” she manages to get out between bubbling fits of hushed giggles, envisioning chariots pulled by giant blind rats that swerve and bumble into each other, tangled in their leadlines. Only the quiet foray into seriousness seems to stifle it fully, though her smile is warm and free of any weight or worry in the aftermath. “I know. I’ll never stop training for the worst case scenario, but I know who I am in the end.” And she always has, even when she had to hide it away. And Deimos, Amalia, Sam…they have all loved her either for it or in spite of it. So why try to force herself into an unnatural mold now of all times?
The prospect of a shield makes her balk at first, envisioning Amalia and all her softhearted, strong-willed glory. Always in the baker’s shadow. But wasn’t that just proof that even healers and bakers and bookmakers could take up arms to keep their loved ones safe? Amalia had abandoned hers, but maybe Evie could take it up instead. “A shield could be a good idea. I’d still be able to use my knives with one too.” Good thing she and Deimos hadn’t brainstormed a secondary weapon for her yet, now they’d have to change their approach.
Bouncing on her toes to expel her excitement as Deimos grabs the last few items, Evie rolls her sleeves up and flexes her fingers. “Oh, absolutely. If we did chocolate chips we’d never get them into the oven.” They’ll be eating the dough regardless, of that she has no doubt, but chocolate chip cookie dough would never have made it past the bowl. She begins measuring out the dry ingredients, mixing them with a simple spoon before gesturing to the eggs. “Wanna crack them while I beat them in?” Though it seems at odds with their normal roles, Evie knows she has a hell of an arm, and that Deimos is more than delicate when the time calls for it.
The prospect of a shield makes her balk at first, envisioning Amalia and all her softhearted, strong-willed glory. Always in the baker’s shadow. But wasn’t that just proof that even healers and bakers and bookmakers could take up arms to keep their loved ones safe? Amalia had abandoned hers, but maybe Evie could take it up instead. “A shield could be a good idea. I’d still be able to use my knives with one too.” Good thing she and Deimos hadn’t brainstormed a secondary weapon for her yet, now they’d have to change their approach.
Bouncing on her toes to expel her excitement as Deimos grabs the last few items, Evie rolls her sleeves up and flexes her fingers. “Oh, absolutely. If we did chocolate chips we’d never get them into the oven.” They’ll be eating the dough regardless, of that she has no doubt, but chocolate chip cookie dough would never have made it past the bowl. She begins measuring out the dry ingredients, mixing them with a simple spoon before gesturing to the eggs. “Wanna crack them while I beat them in?” Though it seems at odds with their normal roles, Evie knows she has a hell of an arm, and that Deimos is more than delicate when the time calls for it.
Don't look up, just let them think
There's no place else you'd rather be
There's no place else you'd rather be
